While their parents went upstairs to get ready for church, the girls went into the cold kitchen to make tea and toast and chat about their plans for the next few days, referring every now and again in whispered tones to the shocking situation that Liz was in. Later, when their mother and father had gone off to Mass and they were on their own, curled up in the chairs at either side of the now-roaring fire, they were able to talk freely.
‘I was delighted when Liz asked me to be a bridesmaid,’ Heather told her sister, ‘but I nearly died when she said that Gerry was going to be the best man. It’s not as if I can refuse, it would look terrible, and she might think that I’m just trying to get out of being bridesmaid because she’s expecting.’ She gave a weary sigh. ‘If you were me, how would you feel about having to spend the whole day sitting and even dancing with your ex-boyfriend?’
Kirsty took a bite of her toast and crunched it while she was thinking. ‘Blidey annoyed,’ she finally stated. ‘But with no choice. You’ve got to do it.’ She paused. ‘You’ll probably get invited along with a partner, so why don’t you ask another fella to go with you? It means you’ve got a ready excuse to go over and sit with him and dance and that kind of thing.’
Heather looked sceptical. ‘Who would I ask? And anyway, if I did ask somebody to come with me to the wedding, they would only think I fancied them.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘I haven’t the foggiest who I could ask . . . and the invitation will likely be just for me. Liz said it’s a small wedding, so they won’t be looking for single people to bring partners.’
‘Well, don’t forget I might be there if the band’s free to play at the wedding,’ Kirsty reminded her gleefully, ‘so I’ll keep a close eye on him.’ She paused. ‘Maybe Gerry will bring his new girlfriend and then you won’t need to worry at all. He’ll be too busy looking after her, because she won’t know anybody.’
‘That’s true,’ Heather said, her dark head nodding, but she didn’t sound wholly convinced. ‘It’s just that when I met Jim coming off the train with Liz on Friday, he was going on about how he thought Gerry would still be keen if I changed my mind –’
‘Och, don’t heed that Jim Murray,’ Kirsty said scornfully. ‘He just wants to see everybody else tied down now, just because he’s landed himself in hot water with Liz.’ Just as she said that, Kirsty suddenly remembered her dream, and felt all funny thinking about it again. Surely, she didn’t really fancy a much older man? How could she?
She wondered now if she should mention it to Heather – just casually ask her what she thought of him, and get the opinion of somebody her own age. But she stopped herself. Heather had only met him briefly once, and didn’t know him well enough to offer any kind of opinion. She would only go on Larry’s looks and his snappy kind of business manner – the things that Kirsty herself had first noticed about him. Heather wouldn’t know anything about Larry’s good sense of humour, his intelligence and the lovely cologne that he wore – so maybe it was best to say nothing.
The girls sat opposite another while reading their annuals and dipping into a box of Quality Street, then Heather looked at the clock. ‘We’d better get dressed so that we’re ready for my mammy and daddy coming back from Mass. They said we’d all go over to Mona’s to give Lily her present and see what else she got.’
‘There’s no big rush,’ Kirsty said lazily, her eyes fixed on the cartoon book. She reached across for another chocolate, and then unwrapped the crinkly purple cellophane and popped the caramel and nut sweet in her mouth.
Apart from feeling a tiny bit squeamish with all the chocolate, she was nice and comfortable now by the lovely crackling fire and couldn’t be bothered moving even if it was to see Lily. Another ten minutes wouldn’t make any difference. ‘They’ll probably have a cup of tea and something to eat before they go and my mammy will want to check on the goose and everything. You know what she’s like.’
‘Come on, lazybones!’ Heather said, suddenly grabbing the book out of her hand. ‘I’ll race you up the stairs.’
Chapter 33
Lily Grace was definitely not in a festive mood – in fact, she was decidedly grumpy considering it was Christmas Day. ‘That telly’s a load of rubbish,’ she complained, her perky little nose and eyes peeping out from under the quilt that covered her on the settee. Whiskey was curled up at the opposite end of the sofa, his head resting on her feet. ‘I thought children’s programmes were on the whole day, but it’s only for a wee while. It’s a rotten swiz so it is.’ The latter comment was one she’d picked up from the new Billy Bunter book that her brother Sean had bought her, and moaning gave Lily the chance to try it out.
‘Never mind complainin’,’ Mona told her briskly, knowing that commiserating with Lily only made her worse. She tucked the pink satin quilt tidily around her daughter, and then planted a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’ve loads of other things you got from Santie to keep you occupied, you’ve got your books and your jigsaws and everything. And there’s plenty of children in this street would be delighted to have a television in their house. Now, just read one of yer books and relax.’
Lily tutted and shifted about under the quilt, then she stretched out as much as her stiff, useless legs would allow, causing Whiskey to whimper a protest. ‘But my arms get too sore tryin’ to hold the books,’ she moaned, ‘and anyways, I’ve nobody to play games with, my daddy and the boys are all at Mass.’
Lily had just discovered that she was missing bits of the busy hospital routine, where there was always somebody to talk to and some of the older children to read to her or play games with her. Even if she couldn’t actually lift the pieces in games like snakes and ladders, the other person took her turn for her, so she could still take part and follow her own progress. She had physiotherapy sessions where she was wheeled up and down the corridors and then up and down floors in the big hospital lift. In between times, there were nurses and porters coming up to her bed asking her how she was doing and making jokes with her, and some of them even brought her the odd packet of sweets or toffees. The first quiet minutes she’d had in the house now alone with Whiskey and her mother had suddenly made her yearn for the hustle and bustle of the hospital.
‘They’ll all be back from Mass soon,’ Mona said, ‘and Heather and Kirsty will be callin’ over with Sophie and Fintan.’
Lily immediately perked up. ‘Good,’ she said, ‘I’ll be getting my presents off them as well.’ She frowned. ‘I hope nobody else buys me another daft cookery set. Imagine buying me kid-on pots and pans and things, when I can’t even get out of bed to use them! And it’s not only that – they’re not for a girl of ten. Things like that are for weans that think they’re really cookin’ things.’ She gave an exaggerated, weary sigh. ‘That was an absolutely useless present!’
‘Now, Lily,’ her mother warned, her hands on her hips, ‘Mrs McLaughlin is an old woman, and it was kind of her to think of you at all. You should be more grateful. I think you’re gettin’ a bit too spoiled.’
Lily moved further down beneath the warm quilt. ‘I don’t care if she’s old,’ she said in a muffled voice, ‘it was still a stupid present to buy me.’
The much maligned goose was a good one. Tender, moist and full of flavour – packed with the traditional Irish potato-and-onion stuffing and surrounded by golden roast potatoes and the usual variety of plain vegetables that the Grace family liked. It was all so good that the girls forgot to make the usual connections between the dreadful, soggy parcel that had been so quickly dispatched to the cold depths of the garden shed, and the delicious, fragrant meat they were now tucking into around the kitchen table.
After the sherry trifle they all moved into the living-room where they listened to the radio for a while. Some time later, after a cup of tea with mince pies and slices of the Christmas cake that Mona baked for all the families every year, Fintan and Sophie moved themselves to go to Pat’s for a game of cards.
‘Are youse sure you won’t come?’ Sophie checked with the girls, fe
eling slightly awkward at leaving them to their own devices on Christmas Day.
Heather shook her head. ‘I’ve been over twice today already, and Lily will be getting ready for bed soon.’
‘Anyway, it’s boring, and we only end up gettin’ told off for laughing and wasting the game,’ Kirsty put in. ‘But you can tell Lily I’ll come over and have a few games with her tomorrow morning.’
When their parents were gone, Kirsty went over to the polished wooden radiogram, took the crystal vase with the plastic roses on it from the top, and lifted up the lid. ‘We might as well take advantage of the peace and play a wee bit of our own music,’ she said gleefully, ‘without havin’ to listen to my daddy moaning about it all the time.’ A few moments later ‘The Yellow Rose of Texas’ came belting out and that was followed by Bill Haley and the Comets singing ‘Rock Around the Clock’. The sofa was pushed back and both girls got up to dance to the music until they were falling into chairs, breathless with the exertion and laughter.
A while later, as they sat listening to a radio programme, the front doorbell rang.
‘Who could that be?’ Kirsty said, checking the time on the clock. She got to her feet. ‘It can’t be my mammy and daddy back yet surely, it’s only quarter to eight.’
‘Maybe they want to collect something,’ Heather suggested. ‘Or maybe it’s Liz, wanting to have a chat about the wedding again.’
‘That’ll be interesting,’ Kirsty said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. ‘We’ll all have to sit around again like stuffed ducks kiddin’ on that we don’t know Liz is expectin’. If it is her, I’m going into the kitchen to listen to the radio there, I couldn’t be doing wi’ listening to her yappin’ on about how brilliant Jim Murray is.’
She went out into the hallway, and could see a tall, dark-headed figure she didn’t recognise through the small panes of glass at the top. Surely it wasn’t Larry Delaney again, she thought. She smoothed her hair down and took a deep breath before opening the door.
Standing on the doorstep, looking unusually dishevelled and obviously drunk, was Gerry Stewart.
‘Is Heather in?’ he said, supporting himself on the door-frame. ‘I was out for a wee walk, and I thought I would call in to see her.’
‘Well, I don’t know how pleased she’s going to be when she sees the state of you, and you’re lucky my father’s not in as well,’ Kirsty said, folding her arms across her chest and shaking her head. ‘Heather!’ she called along the hallway, not knowing whether to laugh or be obviously critical of him. Still, she thought, it livened up a fairly quiet Christmas evening. ‘You’ve got a surprise visitor . . .’
Chapter 34
Mona came back into the kitchen where the rest of the group were watching the last two left in a game of cards. Not wanting to disturb them, she looked back into the living-room where the lads and a few of their friends were sitting in the dark, engrossed in some sports programme on the television. She stood at the door looking at the black and white screen for a while, but not taking in anything that was happening on it. Then, when she heard a bit of cheering from the kitchen, she took it as a signal that the game was finished, and went back in to rinse out the few cups and glasses that were waiting to be washed in the sink.
‘That room is that packed with lads, you’d swear you were in at the pictures,’ Mona said to Sophie, thumbing back in the direction of the living-room. ‘But at least it keeps them all quiet, and you know where they are.’
‘It’s great,’ Sophie agreed, coming over to dry the things for her. ‘I don’t think it’ll be too long until we get one ourselves. I can see Fintan getting more interested in it every time we come over to watch yours.’ She lowered her voice now. ‘How’s Lily?’ she asked. ‘Has she settled for the night?’
Mona crossed her wet fingers and closed her eyes for a moment as though in prayer. ‘Hopefully,’ she said, giving a small strained smile. ‘I hate to say it, but it’s been a mixed blessing having her home. We hardly slept a wink last night, worrying about her – listening to her breathing and our hearts nearly stopping every time she gave a cough.’
‘She looked tired when Pat lifted her up the stairs,’ Sophie commented, ‘so you’ll probably all get a good night’s sleep tonight.’
‘I hope so,’ Mona said. She suddenly stopped and then tears started to well up in her eyes. ‘I think maybe we were all expectin’ too much . . . we built ourselves up, and then it’s been hard to take it when she’s complainin’ about everything. She’s been going on all evening about how she never got taken in to see Santie in his grotto this year. How could I take her into a big shop in Wishaw or Motherwell? We’d have had to carry her in, and then have everybody gawking at her as if she was some kind of invalid.’
‘Sure, you couldn’t,’ Sophie agreed solemnly.
‘She’s too young to understand that she’s just cross because she’s still very weak and sore, and that she’s frustrated at not being able to move.’ Mona rummaged for a hanky in her cardigan pocket and then dabbed at her streaming eyes. ‘We thought havin’ her home for Christmas would mean that she was fine . . . that she was back to normal. But she’s not fine at all, Sophie. She’s still a very sick wee girl.’
Sophie patted her sister-in-law’s shoulder. ‘Don’t let things get on top of you, Mona. Lily has improved a hundred per cent since she first took bad, and we all see improvements in her every day.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Sure, a few weeks ago she could hardly talk, and now she’s chatting away like a wee budgie.’
Mona nodded, looking slightly mollified by the comforting words.
‘Was Lily delighted with all her Christmas presents?’ Fintan asked, as the game came to an end. ‘She has some pile of stuff out there.’
‘Oh, indeed she was,’ Mona said, smiling now, ‘especially when somebody played the games with her. The boys were good, they all took turns playing with her the whole day.’ She laughed. ‘Poor Patrick even sat playing scraps with her this afternoon, sorting out all her cherubs and angels into piles, and then she had him trying to do some kind of a crochet set. It came with the crochet hooks and wool and everything.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know who got it for her, but you’d think they’d have more sense than to buy her something fiddly like that when she can hardly lift her arms. She got all annoyed with it, and flung the basket with all the wool and everything across the room.’
‘Ah, she’ll soon be back to her oul’ self,’ Fintan said, patting Mona’s arm.
‘I hope so,’ Mona said, ‘because you begin to feel as if it’s all your fault she’s so miserable – as if you should be able to make everything all right.’
Wouldn’t every parent like to make everything all right for their family?’ Fintan said. ‘Especially the little ones – but there’s only so much we can do. After that,’ he gestured towards the ceiling, ‘it’s up to the man above.’
‘And there’s times we’d feckin’ well like to know what He’s thinkin’,’ Pat cut in. ‘Because I’m none too pleased with Him at the minute after what He’s done to my poor wee lassie. I might as well tell ye, I’m none too pleased with Him at all.’
‘Don’t be saying things like that, Pat,’ Mona snapped. ‘And don’t be lettin’ the boys hear you either.’ She shook her head despairingly. ‘It’s bad enough wi’ all that’s already happened in the Grace family to make them toe the line – if they heard you talking such blasphemy we’d have no chance.’
There was a little silence, as everyone pointedly ignored Mona’s jibe about Claire.
‘Listen, Mona,’ Sophie said now, ‘why don’t you go and sit down at the table, and I’ll bring you over a nice hot brandy?’ Then, before her almost teetotal sister-in-law could argue, she said, ‘It’ll do you good, and it’ll help you to sleep, medicinal like.’
There was a moment’s hesitation. ‘If I have one – will you have one as well?’ Mona checked.
‘I will,’ Sophie said, smiling. ‘Sure, isn’t it Christmas night? If we can
’t let ourselves go a wee bit tonight, when can we?’
‘I just thought I’d come down and have a word with you about Liz and Jim,’ Gerry said, as he sat at the kitchen table, drinking the cup of tea that Heather had poured for him. ‘I know we’re not going out any more, and I’m not trying to get back in with you or anything . . . but you’re the only one that knows them as well as me.’
Heather stood with her back to the cooker, holding her own cup of tea between both hands. She had tried to keep Gerry at the door, but he had ended up rambling on in such a loud voice that she felt it was easier to bring him inside for a few minutes. Despite pleading with Kirsty to stay in the kitchen with them, her sister had given a derisory laugh and gone back into the living-room saying, ‘He’s your visitor – you entertain him.’
‘I think they’re off their heads getting married,’ Gerry stated now, his face a picture of misery. ‘Jim Murray had no intention of getting tied down – I know that for a fact. He even told me that he was going to dump Liz after Christmas.’
‘Well, that was obviously just big talk,’ Heather said quietly. ‘Fellas often say things like that to their pals, in case they look soft in front of them.’
‘I don’t care whether he was talking big or not, the fact is Jim’s too young and they’ve hardly got a penny to their names.’ He looked up at Heather. ‘D’you know where they’re going to have to live?’ When Heather looked blank, he went on indignantly: ‘His granny’s spare room! What a start to married life. What do you think of that?’
The Grace Girls Page 22