The House By Princes Park

by Maureen Lee

  ‘I’ve been happy most of the time.’

  ‘I’m glad. Now, I really must be going. I’ve intruded long enough. All this must have come as a terrible shock.’ She was putting on her coat, lighting another cigarette. ‘You need time to think, get used to the idea of your mother appearing out of the blue. Perhaps we could meet again sometime. I’m sure we have loads of things to say to each other.’

  ‘Perhaps we could,’ Ruby said politely.

  Olivia Appleby winced. ‘I’ll leave you my card. I’d love to have a photo of your daughters’ wedding.’ Her lips twisted wryly. ‘My granddaughters’ wedding. Oh, and I brought you something. I nearly forgot.’ She fished in her bag and brought out a little velvet box. ‘This is the ring that Tom, your father, gave me. It belonged to his “grandpop” – that’s how he put it. It’s engraved, “Ruby to Eamon, 1857”. It’s exactly one hundred years since Ruby and Eamon got married. Now you know where your name came from.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Ruby.

  They went towards the door, shook hands. Olivia Appleby was walking down the path towards a large, gleaming car Ruby hadn’t noticed before. She opened the gate, turned and waved. There was something terribly sad about her bent shoulders, her wan face.

  This woman was her mother! Yet she’d treated her like a stranger. She wouldn’t have expected Ruby to fall into her arms, shower her with kisses, but she must have hoped for something more than the cold welcome she’d been given, some enthusiasm towards the idea of them meeting again.

  She must be bitterly disappointed. How far did she have to drive, feeling as as she did? Ruby glanced at the card – Bath. She hadn’t asked all sorts of things, important things, about her father, Olivia herself.

  Ruby wanted to run down the path, persuade her mother to come back, ask the questions now. But she couldn’t. There was still a feeling of faint resentment that she’d come at all.

  Olivia had reached the car, opened the door, was about to get in.

  ‘Just a minute,’ Ruby shouted.

  The wan face brightened hopefully. ‘Yes, dear?’

  ‘Why don’t you come to the wedding? It’s the third of December, a Saturday.’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘I’ll send an invitation to the address on the card.’

  Her mother got in the car, smiling and nodding. ‘Thank you very much.’ She closed the door and drove away.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ Chris said that night. Larry and Rob had taken the girls out in the Volkswagen and they had the house to themselves, not counting the lodgers upstairs.

  ‘I’m thinking.’

  ‘Could you think aloud? It’s more sociable.’

  ‘Sorry.’ She wrinkled her nose apologetically. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her mother’s visit. Later, after he’d gone, she’d write to Beth, with whom she’d always shared the closest of her secrets.

  ‘I hope you’re not still cogitating on what colour frock to wear for the wedding?’

  ‘No.’ She laughed. ‘I’ve decided I don’t care. Any colour will do apart from khaki. Fuchsia would be nice.’ She’d always been drawn to bright colours.

  ‘You’d look lovely in khaki, but even lovelier in fuchsia.’ They were on the settee in each other’s arms. He traced the outline of her face with his finger. ‘You’ve got a very determined chin.’

  ‘You’ve got holy eyes. You’d have made a good priest. The women parishioners would have fallen madly in love with you.’

  ‘I doubt if having holy eyes will advance my career in the police force,’ he said drily.

  ‘I’ve never got anywhere with my determined chin.’

  He kissed her. ‘There’s plenty of time. Until then, could you point your chin in the direction of the bedroom and we can continue this conversation there? Better still, discontinue it and concentrate on other things.’

  Two hours later, a blissfully exhausted Ruby and Chris were in the kitchen innocently drinking tea when the young people arrived home – it probably never crossed their minds they did anything else.

  The day was bitterly cold. Tiny flakes of ice were being whipped to and fro in the bone-chilling wind, confetti for a winter wedding.

  Heather’s short veil was flung into a halo around her regal head, while Greta had to cling on to her longer one for fear she’d take off, be blown away, as it spread around her like two great, lacy wings.

  There’d been a gasp from the watching crowd when Ruby’s girls came out of the church. They had never looked so beautiful, and probably never would again, Ruby thought with tears in her eyes. Memories chased each other through her brain; Greta’s first words, Heather’s first determined, stumbling steps, playing with Jake in the garden of Mrs Hart’s house, starting school.

  But now her girls were married women. They belonged to someone else, two very nice young men whom Ruby felt convinced would make them happy. Their mother was no longer the most important person in their lives.

  ‘Sad?’ whispered Chris who was standing behind her while the photographer took pictures.

  Ruby nodded and he slipped his arm around her waist and squeezed. ‘It’s only natural to feel sad, but I’ll cheer you up tonight, I promise.’

  ‘Not tonight. Beth’s staying.’

  ‘And you’d prefer me out the way!’

  ‘If you don’t mind. Only tonight. She’s staying a week, but you can come tomorrow. Get to know her.’

  ‘I mind so much, I’m busting a gut, but I’ll just have to put up with it.’ He grinned. He was the most understanding man she’d ever known and she was the luckiest woman in the world. There wasn’t a single reason to be sad.

  ‘Who’s the lady in the mink?’ Chris asked.

  ‘Olivia Appleby, a friend from long ago.’ She hadn’t known the coat was mink until Martha Quinlan had remarked on the fact.

  Her mother had asked for their relationship to be kept to themselves. ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ she’d said over the phone, ‘but I’m not up to the questions, the explanations, the accusing looks. Perhaps later...’

  ‘I’ll introduce you as Olivia Appleby and say you’re a friend.’ It was the way Ruby preferred. She wasn’t up to facing people’s reactions, either. Even the girls didn’t know their grandmother was at the wedding. Only Beth knew the truth.

  Beth! She looked across at her friend who was standing with Connie and Charles. She’d lost weight and her lovely hair had been brutally shorn to tight little curls close to her scalp, reminding Ruby of a convict. Above the exaggerated cheekbones in the once plump face, her eyes held an expression that a convict might; desperate, lonely. She was wearing a lovely mohair coat with fur trimming and suede boots. Beth clearly wasn’t short of money, but she was short of other, more important things. It was obvious from her eyes.

  The photographer had almost finished and some of the shivering guests had begun to pile into cars to drive to the hall where the reception was being held. Ruby and Chris were being taken in an official car. Charles had offered to take the Quinlans, her mother was bringing Beth.

  Ruby made sure everyone was being looked after before getting in the car herself.

  ‘Gee, Rube! I had a great time.’ It was almost midnight when Beth threw herself into an armchair with an exhausted sigh. She already had a touch of an American accent.

  Ruby collapsed wearily on to the settee. She’d danced herself silly and had kissed more people than she’d done in her entire life. It had been an enjoyable day, but highly emotional.

  ‘I can’t remember when I last enjoyed meself so much,’ Beth said, ‘though for all the expense, it wasn’t as good as Connie and Charles’s wedding all those years ago.’

  ‘Martha said the same – and Connie and Charles.’

  ‘That day will stand out in me mind for ever.’ She looked curiously at her friend. ‘I’ve often wondered why you got so ratty with me when it was over.’

  Ruby made a face. ‘Because Jim Quinlan asked you out.’r />
  ‘You were keen on him?’

  ‘Excessively keen. I can’t think why. It was never reciprocated.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned that before.’ Beth looked surprised. ‘We usually told each other everything.’ She unzipped her boots, threw them off, and tucked her legs beneath her. ‘Have you got any wine? I feel pleasantly drunk and I don’t want it to wear off.’

  ‘I got some specially for my American guest. Red or white?’

  ‘Either.’

  When Ruby returned with the wine, she said, ‘I didn’t tell you about Jim because I was too embarrassed. I loved him, at least I had a crush on him, but he was only vaguely aware of my existence. Then he damn well went and asked you for a date. I was livid, I can tell you.’

  ‘There’s no need to tell me. I remember very well.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ruby said penitently.

  ‘How is Jim these days? I thought he might have come to the wedding.’

  ‘He has the Malt House to look after, doesn’t he? He’s never been the same since the war. According to Martha, it knocked the stuffing out of him. His wife doesn’t help. Martha claims she has affairs.’

  ‘Poor Jim!’ Beth sighed. ‘Why is it some people lead incredibly happy lives and others are dead miserable?’

  ‘If I knew that, Beth, I’d write a book about it and make a fortune. I suppose for most people it’s a bit of both.’

  Beth gave a short laugh. ‘That more or less describes me, but leaning heavily towards the dead miserable.’

  ‘Oh, Beth! What’s wrong?’ It didn’t seem fair. Beth was so nice - and so was Jim. Yet she, Ruby, was deliriously happy and wasn’t nice at all.

  ‘Can I have more wine?’

  ‘Help yourself – here, take the bottle. But promise not to get plastered.’

  ‘I’m not making promises I might not keep.’ She sighed again. ‘It’s Daniel, it’s my kids, it’s everything, Rube.’

  ‘Is Jake all right?’

  ‘Sort of. He’s at university in New York, I think I told you. I insisted he went there. Daniel was annoyed, but black people can lead relatively normal lives in New York, not like in Little Rock. I shall try to persuade Jake to stay when he finishes the course, though I’ll miss him dreadfully. He’s the one person who keeps me sane.’

  ‘I never think of Jake – or you – as black.’

  ‘Well, we are,’ Beth said flatly. ‘Daniel and his friends fight against prejudice all the time. They sit in the white section of buses and wait to get thrown off or barge into hotels or restaurants, knowing they’ll be chucked out, often brutally. No one cares that Daniel’s a top-class lawyer, only that he’s black. He’s forever coming home with his head split open, covered in blood.’

  ‘I suppose you could say that was admirable, Beth,’ Ruby said cautiously. It was the sort of thing she hoped she would do herself.

  ‘It is, it’s just that he wants me to go with him, other women do. He considers I’m letting him down, which I suppose I am.’ She looked appealingly at Ruby, her lovely velvet eyes moist. ‘But I hate violence. I can’t stand seeing the hate in people’s eyes, their faces all contorted. I’d sooner hide in the house, send Rebecca – she’s our housekeeper – to do the shopping. Daniel and his friends are contemptuous of me. They think I’m a coward – I freely admit that I am.’

  ‘What about the other children?’ She’d had two girls and another boy.

  ‘I hardly feel they’re mine.’ Her voice was desolate. ‘Daniel’s mother sets them against me – she’s never liked me much. I’m the wrong colour, the wrong wife for her son, the wrong mother for her grandchildren. She brought her children up to fight and she considers me weak and spineless. My way of dealing with prejudice would be to move to a place where people are more tolerant, where there’s no need to fight. Poor Jake is thoroughly confused. He doesn’t know whose side to be on.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say, Beth.’ It was far worse than she’d thought.

  ‘What is there to say, Rube?’ She shrugged helplessly. ‘Sometimes, I wish it was just me and Jake again.’ She smiled. ‘Except it never was just us, was it? It was you and your girls as well – and dear old Arthur for a while.’

  Beth was sleeping in the girls’ room. Next morning, just after nine, Ruby went in with two cups of tea. Beth was already awake. She sat up and stretched her arms.

  ‘I slept like a log. This bed’s lovely and soft.’

  ‘That’s Greta’s. Heather prefers a hard mattress.’

  ‘She would!’ Beth laughed. ‘What a little madam she was! Always bossing Jake around.’

  ‘Not to mention Greta, but she’s improved since she met Rob.’

  ‘Good old Rob. Give us that tea, Rube. I’m desperate. Me mouth feels like a sewer.’

  ‘You drank too much wine.’ Ruby sat on the bed. ‘Though you look better this morning.’

  Beth rolled her eyes. ‘Are you suggesting I looked awful yesterday?’

  ‘No, but your face is less drawn. Actually, Beth,’ Ruby said gratefully, ‘I’m glad you’re here. The house would have felt peculiar without the girls, knowing they’ll never live here again.’ There hadn’t been time to tidy the room since her daughters had got ready for their wedding. Nighties had been flung over a chair, the dressing table was littered with make-up, face powder had been spilt, the top left off a bottle of June. Ruby put her tea on the floor and went to screw it back on. Heather must have been too excited to be her usual neat and tidy self.

  ‘If I wasn’t here, I’m sure you’d have had other company,’ Beth glanced at her slyly. ‘Chris Ryan, for instance.’

  ‘He’s never stayed the night.’

  ‘I’m sure he’d jump at the chance if it was offered. Unless you’re worried about your reputation?’

  Ruby laughed. ‘Since when have I cared about my reputation?’

  ‘What if your lodgers found out and were so shocked they left?’ It was a relief to see Beth’s eyes dance.

  ‘The men wouldn’t. Mrs Mulligan might complain, but if she left I’d be glad to see the back of her. Mind you, she gave the girls a lovely tablecloth each for a wedding present, white damask.’ She loathed white tablecloths herself, finding it impossible to get the stains out. Dark, check patterned cloths were best – the stains could hardly be seen.

  ‘Where’s Tiger? I haven’t seen him since I came.’

  ‘He spends most of his time in the cellar. Remember that wardrobe he hid in during the raids? He just comes up for food now and then, has a weary stroll around the garden, then it’s back to the cellar.’

  ‘I’ll go down and say “hello” later. I’ve never liked cats, apart from Tiger. What are we going to do today?’ she enquired.

  ‘After Mass – do you still go to Mass?’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘If we get well wrapped up, after Mass, we could go for a walk in the park, then come back for something to eat. I don’t feed the lodgers on Sundays, it’s my day off, so we’ll have the place to ourselves. We’re going to the Quinlans for tea, and tonight Chris is coming.’

  ‘I’ll feel like a gooseberry.’

  ‘As long as you don’t look like a gooseberry, it doesn’t matter.’

  The week flew by. They went to the pictures, to dinner, wandered around the shops that were decorated for Christmas. Beth bought presents to take back home. Sometimes Chris came with them, but Ruby didn’t let on that it was better when he didn’t. Beth looked upon the years they’d spent in the house by Princes Park as a golden time when everything was perfect. She talked about little else; ‘Remember this, Rube. Remember that.’ Ruby had never been inclined to look back, particularly not now that the future seemed so sweet, but she willingly indulged her friend, laughed with her, remembered this and that, held her hand when she cried. She felt more comfortable if Chris wasn’t there during these nostalgic reminders of a period long before they’d met.

  One afternoon, they walked to the house in Toxteth where Beth used to
live. The woman who answered the door was young and had a baby in her arms. She had no idea who’d lived there before, and when Beth asked at the shop on the corner they knew nothing about a red-haired Irishwoman who’d been married to a tall man from Jamaica.

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s that,’ Beth sighed. ‘It would have been nice to see them. Now I’ll never know where they are.’

  On Friday, Beth’s last night, Ruby fed her lodgers early, and Connie, Charles, and Martha Quinlan came to dinner. Chris was on duty, or so he claimed. Ruby wondered if he was just being tactful. He would say goodbye to Beth next morning at Lime Street station where she would catch the London train.

  ‘It’s a pity you’ve come all this way and can only stay a week,’ Martha said to Beth. ‘And the girls are coming home tomorrow. You’ve seen hardly anything of them.’

  ‘I’d have preferred to stay longer, but it’s Christmas soon and I’ve loads of things to do.’ Beth looked wistful.

  ‘Perhaps next time you could come and stay a whole month.’

  ‘But don’t leave it another twelve years until you do,’ Connie put in.

  ‘Hear, hear,’ echoed Charles. ‘And bring Jake with you. We’d love to see him.’

  ‘He’d love to see you.’ There were tears in Beth’s eyes. She’d cried too much that week.

  She cried again when everyone had gone, sobbed uncontrollably because she didn’t want to go back to Little Rock. ‘I’d forgotten what it was like to feel happy. I almost wish I hadn’t come and been reminded.’

  Next morning, she managed to remain dry-eyed when Ruby and Chris saw her on to the London train. She was flying home from Heathrow.

  Ruby hugged her fiercely. ‘Come to our wedding,’ she urged. ‘We haven’t fixed a date yet, but it’ll be some time next summer.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  The train chugged out of the station and they waved to each other until it turned a bend and Beth disappeared.

  ‘I’ve had an idea where we should go for our honeymoon,’ Chris said, putting his arm around a dejected Ruby’s shoulders.