The Grace Girls

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The Grace Girls Page 44

by Geraldine O'Neill


  ‘How are you feelin’?’ Kirsty asked in a genuinely sympa­thetic voice. She felt very sorry for the poor girl and all she’d gone through. Then she looked across the room at Heather, who still wasn’t back to her old self. Gerry Stewart’s death and all the drama surrounding it had really hit her hard. Kirsty suddenly felt very grateful that she’d not had anything terrible like that befall her. And she felt very lucky when she thought of the magical night she’d just had with Larry Delaney.

  ‘Och, I suppose I’m OK,’ Liz said, not meeting Kirsty’s eyes. There were times when she felt that Kirsty Grace could just be that wee bit flippant and sarcastic, and she wasn’t taking any chances on her being like that today. She definitely wasn’t in the mood for any of her old nonsense. Heather Grace was a different kettle of fish. She was far more serious and you always knew where you were with her. ‘I’ll be fine,’ Liz said, rubbing her nose again. ‘I’m just a wee bit run down and tired . . .’

  ‘You’ll be up and about soon,’ Kirsty said, ‘and things will seem different . . .’ She looked at all the grapes and chocolates on the bedside. ‘I’ll be up at the shops later if there’s anything I can get you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Liz said, sniffing into her hanky, ‘but I think I’ll be OK.’ Then she looked up at Kirsty. ‘What’s all this about you gettin’ stuck in the snow and having to stay out all night?’

  Then the conversation lightened up a little as Kirsty told the story with great gusto, embellishing the bits that would make them laugh and missing out the wonderful bits about Larry Delaney.

  ‘What a bloomin’ shame,’ Kirsty said as she and Heather walked home together, coats tightly buttoned and scarves high up around their necks against the winter chill. ‘It just seems like absolutely everything has gone wrong for poor Liz. And what I’d like to know is where was that Jim Murray? He should have been there beside her, holding her hand after all she’s gone through.’

  ‘I don’t think he knows what he’s doing at the minute,’ Heather said. ‘He’s lost his best friend and now he’s lost the baby him and Liz were expecting. All the plans they were making seem to be falling apart.’ She halted now as they passed a neighbour to nod and say ‘hello’. ‘I think Liz is worried about the wedding now . . .’

  ‘D’you mean that he won’t want to go through with it?’ Kirsty gasped. The thought hadn’t struck her. ‘Surely he wouldn’t let her down now?’

  ‘I don’t really know what to think,’ Heather said, sighing wearily. ‘I’m guessing that she feels Jim was only marrying her because he had to and now she’s worrying that he’ll feel trapped into having to do it.’

  They walked along the main street in silence for a while, passing the church and the chemist’s shop where Kirsty spent her working days. Then they turned off down towards the street they lived in.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Kirsty asked, glancing at her sister. ‘You’re still very pale.’

  ‘Och, I’m OK,’ Heather told her, pulling her scarf more tightly around her neck. ‘I slept a wee bit better last night . . . but I still keep thinking about everything that’s happened. Thinking that if I hadn’t finished with Gerry maybe everything and everybody else would be OK.’

  ‘That’s a stupid way to think,’ Kirsty said. ‘Things just happen. Look at Liz. She would have lost that baby anyway, and she’d still be in the same position whether you were still going out with Gerry or not.’

  ‘I’ve had a few people making digs at me about Gerry,’ Heather told her sister in a low voice. ‘When I was up at the paper shop earlier this morning, I was getting wee comments from two women about how broken-hearted he was when we split up.’ She shook her head. ‘And there’s the crowd from Rowanhill that were on the minibus that night, they must have seen us arguing at the party earlier on . . . then they heard Jim and Gerry arguing. I feel the whole place is talking about me and blaming me for what happened to him.’

  Kirsty thrust her arm through her sister’s and pulled her closer. ‘Don’t listen to them, it’ll be all forgotten in a few weeks’ time,’ she advised. ‘Even today, they’re only interested in hearing about the murders on the radio and reading about them in the newspapers.’ She paused. ‘Just keep yourself to yourself for a few weeks and they’ll all forget about it.’

  ‘But it’s hard to keep a low profile in Rowanhill,’ Heather said in a flat voice. ‘You meet people everywhere, at the shops, at Mass on Sunday –’

  ‘Why don’t you go to Claire’s next weekend?’ Kirsty suddenly suggested. ‘It would give you a wee break. You could go straight from work on the Friday and then stay until it’s time to go back to work on the Monday morning. She would be absolutely delighted to have you – it was one of the last things she said before we left.’

  Heather’s eyes clouded over in thought. ‘That’s not a bad idea,’ she said. ‘I might think about it.’

  ‘And if anybody says a word to me in the chemist’s shop about you,’ Kirsty told her, ‘I’ll take the nose off them, and they won’t ask again.’

  Heather smiled now. ‘Thanks. I know I can always rely on you, and it’s a really big help.’

  ‘Well,’ Kirsty said squeezing her arm, ‘I might have to rely on you as well.’

  ‘Why? What’s wrong?’ Heather asked, slowing down.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘Tell me!’ Heather insisted.

  ‘It’s Larry . . .’ Kirsty’s voice was a low whisper, but there was just the tiniest note of excitement in it.

  Heather came to a standstill. They were too close to their own house to finish the conversation walking quickly. ‘What’s happened?’ Her heart was sinking now, dreading what her sister might tell her.

  Kirsty looked around her to check there was no one about who might overhear them. ‘It’s a big long story . . . but he’s told me that he feels exactly the same about me.’ She paused.

  ‘But I thought you said you weren’t bothered about him anymore,’ Heather said in a shocked tone. ‘After that night in Hamilton, where he was horrible to you . . .’

  ‘It was only because he was worried about me being younger,’ Kirsty explained. ‘And he’s already had a bad experience with women and didn’t want to get involved with me.’

  ‘So, what’s made him change his mind?’ Heather asked, her brows knitted together.

  Kirsty hesitated, trying to find the right words to explain this wonderful turn of events. ‘It just happened. We were talking in the bar for ages last night . . . we talked and talked about everything and it gave us the chance to get to know each other really well.’ She halted, almost breathless with emotion just talking about Larry. ‘He’s not from the well-off background that I thought. In fact, there were loads of things I’d assumed about him that were wrong. The more we talked, the more we discovered we had in common.’

  Heather’s voice dropped. ‘Did anything happen when you were in the hotel on your own?’

  A little smile came on Kirsty’s lips at the memory. ‘He kissed me . . . and it was brilliant!’

  There was a silence. ‘Are you sure that’s all he did?’ Heather asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. ‘He wasn’t trying to take advantage of you or anything? Look what happened to Liz.’

  Kirsty’s smile disappeared. ‘No he was not!’ she hissed. ‘For your information, he was quite the opposite – a real gentleman. He’s nothing like that flamin’ Jim Murray, and I’m not that stupid that I’d go with somebody if I knew he didn’t care about me – and I certainly wouldn’t be goin’ around havin’ sex with him!’

  ‘Good,’ Heather said, but she still didn’t look at all relieved or happy. ‘I’m glad nothing serious has happened to you, because you and him are not at all suited. It would be worse than the way things went for me and Gerry Stewart.’ She shook her head dismally. ‘He’s far too old for you for a start –’

  ‘Shut up!’ Kirsty said, her eyes wide and glaring with anger. She couldn’t believe
that Heather could be like this towards her, when she’d been so supportive about the funeral and Liz and everything. ‘Larry’s age doesn’t matter a bit, and anyway, it’s not that huge a difference. It’s only about ten or eleven years – nothing like the difference between Claire and her husband.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Heather said, starting to walk on now. ‘It’s a total disaster, and my mammy and daddy will go mad about it. They haven’t the slightest clue that there’s anything going on between you. If they find out they’ll stop you going out singing with him and everything. They’ll be really mad to think that they’ve trusted you with him, and all the time he had his lecherous eyes on you.’

  ‘I thought you’d understand,’ Kirsty said, catching up on her sister. The anger she felt was now slowly dissolving into hurt. ‘I thought you’d be the one that would stick up for me . . .’

  Heather’s head moved from side to side, her dark wavy hair swinging as she did so. ‘The fact that I don’t understand shows you that it’s all a load of nonsense. It sounds to me as though that Larry Delaney has suddenly realised that he’s on to a good thing with a young girl who’s easily impressed. And he’s not stupid either, he’s probably told you all that rubbish about other women just to make you feel he’s a really good catch – that women are falling over themselves to get him.’ She paused. ‘He might just be saying all those things so that he can keep you on his books now that your singing career is taking off, and if Kirsty looked at her sister now, devastated at her words. ‘I have never heard you saying such terrible things before,’ she said slowly, ‘and you’ve got it all completely wrong. Larry loves me and he told me that last night.’ Her chin tilted defiantly. ‘And whatever you say, I know that I definitely love him.’

  Heather raised her eyebrows, a sceptical look on her face. ‘I think you’re being totally naïve and stupid and you’re only making a fool of yourself over that man – and I don’t want to hear another word about it.’

  Hot, angry tears sprung into Kirsty’s eyes. She took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘I don’t care if you are my sister – that’s the last time I’ll ever trust you again, Heather Grace.’

  Saturday evening was very quiet in the Grace household. Too quiet for Sophie, who had noticed the strained atmosphere between the two sisters.

  ‘Have you two had an argument?’ she asked Heather as they dried and put away the dishes that Kirsty had washed. ‘You don’t seem to have too much to say to each other this evening.’

  ‘No,’ Heather replied, rubbing the tea-towel hard across a dinner plate. ‘I think we’re both just a bit tired.’

  Kirsty appeared at the kitchen door with a used glass that had been left on the table in the sitting-room. She went over to the sink and after dipping it in the soapy water in the basin, she ran it under the hot tap to rinse it.

  ‘Your father and I were thinking of taking a run in to the hospital to see Lily tonight,’ Sophie told both her daughters. ‘So if either of you want to come with us . . .’

  ‘I’ll come,’ both girls replied at the same time, each thinking they might avoid having to stay at home with the other.

  Chapter 58

  There was still a palpable tension between the sisters as they walked behind their parents going to half past eleven Mass the following morning, Heather in her black and white checked coat and white hat, Kirsty in her camel coat with a brown angora beret. Things had thawed a little the night before as they all sat around Lily’s bed, laughing and joking, and it had been hard for them to openly ignore each other.

  There had been a slight awkwardness when Lily asked Kirsty all about being snowed-in at the hotel. ‘That’s dead funny,’ the young girl had said, shaking her head. ‘Because the snow wasn’t that bad here.’ She’d motioned to the window behind her bed. ‘I was watching the snow all day yesterday, and I was moaning that it was melting too fast for it to be really white.’

  ‘Well, it was really white up in the Clyde Valley,’ Kirsty told her, ‘and really, really deep.’

  ‘And you had to stay the night in the hotel?’ Lily had said, her eyes wide with interest. ‘That must have been great!’

  Kirsty had felt her neck flushing as all eyes were on her at that point, and she’d begun to feel guilty, as if she had made the whole thing up. The snow certainly hadn’t been as bad in other parts as it had been where they were, but she and Larry had told the truth and anyone in the hotel could verify for them. She had glanced over at Heather to see whether she had a disbelieving look on her face, but she was flicking through a School Friend magazine that Lily had given her.

  Later, the two girls played a game of Scrabble with Lily and managed to make it look as if they were the best of friends, arguing and joking over words, but their smiles did not reach their eyes. Both of them knew that it was all an act, and that a lot of work was going to have to be done to repair the damage.

  They walked into the church together on the Sunday morning, and sat side by side in the pew going through the motions as they had the previous night for the sake of their parents. When the priest came out on the altar and started the Mass, they stared down at their Sunday missals, each lost in their own thoughts and not seeing a single holy word. Kirsty Grace prayed with all her heart to God that he would let things work out between her and Larry. That he would forgive Larry for the sins he had committed with that Helen McCluskey and that everyone would understand about their relationship when it finally came out into the open.

  Heather Grace sat beside her, praying that Kirsty would see sense over this ridiculous, unsuitable romance, that Liz Mullen would be OK, and that people would stop blaming her for everything that had happened to Gerry Stewart.

  When they came out from Mass, Heather told them that she was going to call in at Liz’s for half an hour. ‘I just want to check if she’s feeling a bit better,’ she said, not looking at Kirsty, and obviously not inviting her to come along with her. ‘I’ll be back in plenty of time for my dinner.’

  ‘We’re having it earlier today,’ Sophie reminded her, ‘because your father and I are doing a run over to Wishaw to see his cousin Betty along with Pat and Mona this evening.’

  Kirsty’s heart suddenly leapt. If her mother and father were out, it might just give her an opportunity to see Larry. She said nothing until Heather had gone into Liz’s house, and they were walking towards the phone box. She started to rummage in her pockets and purse for change for the phone.

  ‘I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes,’ she told her parents. ‘I want to make a phone call to a girl from school that I should have rung over the New Year.’

  ‘Who’s that?’ Sophie asked curiously. She knew most of the girl’s friends.

  ‘Nancy Brennan,’ Kirsty said, naming one of her old school pals. ‘You’ve met her a few times, she’s been out to the house. She lives over in Carfin and I promised her I might take a run over some evening.’

  ‘Have you change for the phone?’ Fintan said, holding out a handful of coppers.

  ‘Thanks,’ Kirsty said, feeling guilty as she took the money from her father.

  Kirsty didn’t need to check the number on the little card she had in her pocket, as she already knew it off by heart. It rang out several times, and then Larry’s lovely Irish voice came on the line.

  The pips for the money sounded, then Kirsty hurriedly shoved four of the pennies into the slot. ‘It’s me . . .’ she said in a slightly anxious voice. Then she added, ‘It’s Kirsty . . .’

  She could hear the big, deep sigh on the other end of the line.

  ‘You must have read my thoughts,’ he said. ‘I was thinking about you all morning and hoping you might phone.’

  Kirsty’s heart lifted. She closed her eyes, saying a quick, silent prayer of gratitude to God for listening to her earlier pleas in church. ‘Well,’ she said, trying to sound casual, ‘I was just passing the phone box and I thought I would give you a wee ring.’

  ‘I’m missing you, Kirsty,’ he s
aid now, in a serious voice. ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday afternoon.’

  Kirsty glanced around her now, to make sure there was nobody outside the red public phone box who might be listening to her. It wouldn’t be the first time that people had listened into other people’s private conversations in Rowanhill. ‘And I’m missing you,’ she said in a low voice. Missing didn’t even begin to describe what she felt. It was so deep and serious she couldn’t find words for it.

  ‘Is there any chance of us meeting up?’ he asked. ‘Maybe going out for a couple of hours tonight?’

  ‘I could probably meet you for a while this afternoon,’ Kirsty suggested. ‘I could get the bus to Newarthill, and then if you met me there, maybe we could go for a run somewhere.’

  ‘That would be brilliant. When?’ he asked.

  A knock suddenly came on the glass of the telephone box, and Kirsty turned to see two girls she knew, waiting to use the phone. She motioned to them that she was nearly finished. ‘Would half past four suit you?’ she asked him.

  ‘Kirsty, darling, any time would suit me,’ Larry laughed. ‘I’ve just been punching in the time until I heard from you, and was dreading that if you didn’t phone I might have to wait until Tuesday night.’

  ‘Well, you won’t have to wait until Tuesday,’ Kirsty whis­pered. ‘I’ll meet you at Carfin Cross at half past four.’

  ‘He called in shortly after you and Kirsty left yesterday,’ Liz told Heather as they both sat on the edge of her bed. She was up and dressed today, in dark trousers and a white knitted jumper, but she still looked pale and drawn under her make-up and pink lipstick.

  ‘And how was he?’ Heather asked, deliberately keeping her voice low as she knew Liz’s parents were in the sitting-room and might hear them.

  ‘Still not himself,’ Liz said, biting the nail on her thumb. ‘He said he was going to have an early night last night, so he didn’t come round.’

 

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