‘But can’t you use them, Cissie?’ Cathy said.
‘No, girl, my fella wouldn’t drink this foreign muck. He’d rather have Red Biddy, but youse young ones are different.’
‘I don’t feel guilty about taking them,’ Cathy told Greg. ‘And I’m not going to tell it in Confession because I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. Everywhere was filthy and we had to clean for nearly an hour before we could start to lay up. Mr Owen said he couldn’t pay extra because it wasn’t the responsibility of the firm to have a clean hall and kitchen, and the people who booked us didn’t even thank us for the cleaning.’
Greg agreed that the women were entitled to take the money owed to them in kind, and they laughed together about Cissie’s words. They exchanged smiles, too, when Mary said, ‘How sophisticated! John Collins and my favourite crème de menthe.’
‘We got it to match your dress,’ Greg said, winking at Cathy.
Chapter Eighteen
Sarah was relieved to see her parents joking together but it did nothing to change her feelings towards Mary. Later in the evening her aunt commented on Sarah’s cream linen dress and the alice band which held back her hair, but Sarah looked at her unsmilingly, without speaking, and Mary decided she was gauche and turned back to charming the boys and Kate.
For the rest of the visit Kate hung round her at every possible moment, and Mary was flattered and pleased by the little girl’s devotion to her.
‘You’ll have to come and visit with us when you’re a little older,’ she told Kate, and the child was even more enchanted.
John also fell victim to Mary’s charm, and spent as much time as possible in her company, and Cathy and her parents poured out their affection for her unstintingly. This compensated Mary a little for the fact that Greg was avoiding her, and for the disconcertingly hostile glances she received from Sarah, but Sam was a favourite with everyone and he and Greg became firm friends.
Only once did Greg speak to Mary alone, and that was for a special reason. They had all gathered as usual in Cathy’s parlour, and talk had turned to Lawrie’s health and to how much it had improved.
‘As long as we don’t have fog,’ Cathy said. ‘Fog always causes trouble.’ She happened to glance at Mary as she spoke, and was amazed to see Mary dart an angry glance at Greg.
Cathy was unaware that when Greg was returning home after demobolization at the end of the war, he had been stranded in a London “pea soup” fog and Mary had tried unsuccessfully to seduce him. Now she evidently thought that Cathy knew of the incident and was making an oblique reference to it.
Greg’s face coloured but he said hurriedly, ‘We may have a mild winter. We’re due one.’
‘Aye, we’ve had enough bad ones the last few years,’ Lawrie said. ‘But the way I feel now, I could deal with anything, even fog.’
‘We’ll drink to that, Grandad,’ John said, raising his glass, and the awkward moment passed, but Mary remained unusually silent for some time.
The memory of her humiliation was like a sore in her mind, which she had covered by telling herself that Greg was impossibly provincial and by all the success she had enjoyed since then. But the thought that Cathy knew of it was unbearable to her.
The memory of that night, her love for Greg, and the thought that he had betrayed her to Cathy, all churned in her mind and filled her with bitterness and regret. For once she was unable to join in the merry conversation. Sam sat down beside her. ‘All right, honey?’ he asked, and she raised her head and forced a smile.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘A bit tired, that’s all.’
‘We’ll leave early then,’ he said. ‘Have an early bedtime.’
Dear Sam, she thought. Always watching out for her. She was very fond of Sam – she loved him. This crazy feeling for Greg was a kind of madness in her blood; once she was away from him she could forget him.
But she knew in her heart that, madness or not, it was with her until the day she died.
And he was Cathy’s husband! She watched with bitterness as Greg took a glass from her and they stood smiling at each other.
A little later Cathy and Sarah went out to prepare supper, and then while Sam and John and Lawrie discussed Roosevelt and Sally listened placidly, Greg drew Mary to the other end of the room.
‘Cathy knows nothing of the fog in London,’ he said quietly. ‘She thinks I met you briefly on the station and tried to persuade you to come home, but you wouldn’t come. That’s all.’
‘It’s a wonder you mentioned me at all,’ she said, an angry colour in her cheeks.
‘I had to tell your parents you were alive and well. They were so worried about you,’ he said. ‘I said at first that I saw you from the train but then I had to admit I’d spoken to you. I’m a poor liar, Mary, and I hated deceiving Cathy, but I thought it was better all round.’
‘Why did she say that about fog?’ Mary demanded.
‘Because it’s the truth. It does upset your dad. Anyway, Cathy wouldn’t go that way about it if she knew anything. She’s too straight.’
‘Quite perfect,’ Mary sneered, turning away to sit by her father and be comforted by his abundant, uncritical love.
When everyone had gone home, and Cathy and Greg were preparing for bed, she asked him about the glance from her sister. ‘Why did Mary give you that dirty look tonight?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know. I was surprised,’ he said.
‘What were you doing? I had my back to you when I saw her look daggers at you. There must have been some reason.’
‘I was only giving Kate some dandelion and burdock,’ he said. ‘And I looked up and got that look. Who knows with Mary?’
Cathy looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder,’ she said. ‘You know, Mam got hold of the wrong end of the stick about that letter. She thought it was because Mary was upset to see our family. Well, we know that wasn’t the reason that time, but I wonder if she does feel a bit jealous, and now and again she can’t help showing it?’
‘Perhaps,’ Greg said. ‘But we can’t keep the kids locked away.’ He gave a sigh of relief then said quickly, ‘I don’t envy Sam, dealing with her moods.’
‘Sam’s well able to,’ Cathy said. ‘He’s a good husband, the way he took her home early because she was tired. I was going to suggest having a dance to the records but perhaps we can do that tomorrow night.’ She kissed him and said goodnight, but Greg lay awake for a while thinking of his narrow escape. Blast Mary, he thought. I never wanted to deceive Cathy about that business and now I’ve had to compound it by deceiving her again. I’ll be glad when Mary goes back and I don’t care if I never see her again. She’s nothing but trouble. Sam deserves better than a wife who flirts with every man she sees.
Greg was still unaware of the depth of Mary’s feeling for him and that he was the only one who could arouse such a response from her.
The following night Mick was enlisted to wind the gramophone, and Mary and Sam, Cathy and Greg, and John and Sarah all danced to the records of Jack Hylton and Henry Hall. Cathy danced several times with Sam and there was much laughter when they danced an “exhibition tango”, but Greg was careful to dance only once with Mary, and then she danced chiefly with John.
Cathy and Greg had talked about their visits to the Grafton Rooms and Sam suggested that they should make up a foursome to go there on Thursday night.
‘We’ll have to ask Josie and Walter,’ Greg said firmly. ‘We go with them every week.’
‘That scatty girl!’ Mary exclaimed.
‘She’s not scatty now,’ said Cathy. ‘She lost four brothers during the war, including Frank.’ She looked challengingly at Mary. ‘We’re very good friends.’
‘Josie got the waitress job for Cathy,’ Sally said.
Greg was determined to include Josie and Walter in the party, and not to be part of a foursome which would mean dancing frequently with Mary. Even when dancing in the parlour she had pressed herself close to him, and he felt that in the crowded ballroom she
would be even more blatant. He was not flattered by her behaviour, remembering Mary in her youth and the constant succession of young men around her, and believing that she still craved for that adulation from any available man. She can do what she likes in America, he thought grimly, but she’s not going to do anything here to hurt Cathy.
Josie was reluctant at first, urging Cathy to go just with Mary and Sam, but finally she was persuaded.
The evening was surprisingly successful. Walter was shy and tongue-tied at first but as they sat down round a table on the balcony, Mary said patronizingly, ‘Do you dance, Walter?’
Her tone aroused his native independence and he said straight-faced, ‘No, I come because the chair’s comfortable.’ Sam gave a shout of laughter and Mary had the grace to smile, then Walter stood up and asked her to dance.
It was a tango at which Walter excelled and he swung Mary around and bent her back almost to the floor. She entered into the spirit of it and made her movements as exaggerated as his, and they came back to the table flushed and laughing.
That seemed to set the tone for the evening, and everything that happened seemed to be cause for laughter. Greg danced once with Mary. When they returned to the table, a man they knew slightly approached them.
‘Oh, God, here’s the lounge lizard,’ Josie whispered. He was a slim man, with dark hair plastered to his head with brilliantine, and a pencil-thin moustache. He spoke as though they were close friends. Greg was compelled to introduce Mary and Sam, and immediately he asked Mary to dance.
‘Looks a bit of a dago. Is he all right?’ Sam asked as Mary went to the dance floor with the man.
‘He’s harmless,’ Cathy assured him. ‘He just thinks he’s God’s gift to women.’
‘And Mary thinks she’s God’s gift to men,’ Josie laughed. ‘This should be good.’
Cathy glanced quickly at Sam, but he was laughing at Josie’s bluntness and asked her to dance. Walter claimed Cathy, and Greg sat back and watched the dancers. The lounge lizard brought Mary back after the dance and left after a deep bow. She sat down, fanning herself.
‘Phew. Isn’t he incredible? Why didn’t you rescue me?’ she challenged Greg. ‘I thought you’d come and excuse me.’
‘I couldn’t have caught you,’ he said. ‘The way you were swooping through the crowd.’
Mary laughed. ‘Watch out for him,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid he’ll be back.’ But when the next dance was announced and the man approached their table, they all quickly stood up and moved on to the dance floor.
Time flew and they were amazed when the Last Waltz was announced. They each danced with their own partner. The dance floor was crowded with couples but at one point Mary and Sam found themselves close to Cathy and Greg.
The music was soft and romantic and the lights were low. Oblivious to the couples around them, Greg and Cathy danced cheek to cheek, holding each other close. Involuntarily Mary drew in her breath and her hand tightened on Sam’s shoulder.
He steered her away and looked down at her. ‘Remember the ship’s ballroom where we met again, honey?’ he said. ‘I looked across the room and there you were. I know what they mean when they say “My heart stood still”.’
Mary smiled. ‘I was so unhappy, Sam,’ she said softly, ‘and you made everything right for me.’
‘I always will, honey,’ he promised.
The dance ended and the lights went up, and everyone stood applauding the band and looking about them self-consciously.
That evening at the Grafton Rooms was the only time that Mary spent away from her parents, except for the necessary time at the hotel, but the weather continued fine and Sam arranged several outings.
He hired a large car and drove Mary and Cathy, Sally, Lawrie and Kate, to Southport where they had tea in the Palm Room of one of the large hotels.
Afterwards Mary decided that she and Sam would take Kate to look at the shops and more tea was ordered for Cathy, Sally and Lawrie. When the tea was brought Cathy chatted to the elderly waitress, telling her about her own job with the catering firm.
When the waitress moved away, Sally sighed. ‘I wish I could be more at ease in these places,’ she said. ‘But I can’t. It’s silly at my age.’
‘There’s nobody any better than us here Sal,’ Lawrie said sturdily. ‘Hold your head up, girl.’
‘I always do,’ she said tartly.
Cathy said quickly. ‘I like Southport. I always enjoyed a day on the shore here when the children were small.’
‘Our poor Emily was here, remember? I wonder, is that nursing home far away?’ Sally asked. ‘Not that I want to go there,’ she added quickly. Her face was sad and Lawrie put his hand over hers.
‘Emily was happy here, love,’ he said, ‘and she had a happy death.’
Sally smiled at him and Cathy watched them with affection. How easily Dad can find the right words of comfort, especially for Mam, she thought. A moment later Mary and Sam arrived, laden with gifts for the family.
Kate had a heart-shaped little locket on a fine chain and a brooch in the shape of a dog. She wanted to show these to her mother right away, but the other gifts were left in their wrappings until later. They left the hotel and Cathy hung back to say goodbye to the waitress.
‘Cathy’s made a friend,’ Lawrie said with a grin. ‘She does that everywhere she goes.’
‘She’s not as shy as she used to be then,’ Sam said.
‘No. But, mind you, she was always friendly for all she was so shy,’ Sally said. ‘I think this job’s brought her out of her shell a bit.’
They walked down through the flower gardens to the Pier and Sally told everyone to breathe deeply.
‘This ozone is very good for you,’ she told them. They all looked well, slightly sunburned, and in Cathy’s case windblown too. Her hat had blown off twice and her hair was untidy. She looked at Mary and Kate and marvelled that they both looked as neat as when they set out.
Mary was wearing blue chiffon with a blue fur cape and a tiny pillbox hat in blue fur tilted over her right eye. Even her red-gold hair curling around it seemed undisturbed. I’m just naturally untidy, Cathy concluded ruefully.
They had a day trip on the Isle of Man boat, and another on the boat to Eastham. As they walked along from the boat, Cathy noticed that her mother’s arm was linked in her father’s and that they were holding hands, as they strolled slowly along.
She remembered then that their brief honeymoon had been spent at Eastham, and tactfully fell back to ask Sam to lift Kate up to see a liner in the river. They stood for a few moments, talking about the ships, until Kate exclaimed, ‘We’ve lost Grandma.’
‘We’ll soon catch them up,’ Cathy said, and they all ambled along until they came upon Lawrie and Sally looking into a small wood.
‘We’ll go up to the hotel when you’re ready,’ Sam said.
Sally said wistfully, ‘We were looking about for a little cottage that used to serve teas, but we can’t see it.’
‘It was a long time ago, girl,’ Lawrie said gently. ‘Forty-four years in October.’ They smiled at each other and Kate put her hand in Sally’s.
‘We thought we’d lost you, Gran,’ she said.
Kate was delighted with the tiny cucumber sandwiches and the dainty cakes served at the hotel, but before they reached the boat again she announced that she was hungry.
‘You’ve got to get used to that if you want to be a lady,’ Sam told her solemnly. ‘Did you know about Kate’s plans, Grandma?’ he said to Sally.
‘Hmm, we’re all as God made us,’ she said, with a glance at Mary.
Sally was nervous in motor cars and enjoyed the trips by train or boat more, but even on the train Sam booked first-class and they went to a luxury hotel in Morecombe for tea. ‘I’m too old a dog to learn new tricks,’ Sally told Cathy. ‘I enjoy the evenings in your parlour most of all.’
Lawrie was due to retire at the end of the month and the yard manager had told him that he would turn a blind eye if
he took time off while his daughter was home, so he was able to go on these trips. But Cathy hinted to Sam that they were tiring for him, and most of the time was spent at home.
The gifts from Southport had pleased everyone. Sally received a sapphire and diamond brooch, Cathy a gold bracelet and Sarah a gold locket. For Greg they had bought a silver cigarette case and for Lawrie a leather-bound set of the works of Charles Dickens. John and Mick both received silver-backed hairbrushes, and before they left Mary tried to persuade Cathy to have some of her clothes, but she refused.
‘They’d be wasted on me, Mary,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have the opportunity to wear them, and they wouldn’t look the same on me anyway.’
‘You’re just too independent, that’s what it is,’ Mary said. ‘You’re as bad as Dad.’
It was nearly time for Mary and Sam to leave but before that they had a serious talk with Sally and Lawrie.
‘We want to talk about money, Mr Ward,’ Sam said. ‘The last time we did that it had to be by letter and I don’t think I was able to tell you how much we appreciated your offer to send that money. Well, we’ve been damn’ lucky and we’re on our feet again now. I’d like to – well, open up again on that, now you’re due to retire.’
‘We’re all right, lad. Don’t worry about us,’ Lawrie said hastily.
‘It’s ourselves we’re thinking about really, isn’t that so, Mary?’ Sam said. ‘You know it says in the Bible “Honour thy father and thy mother,” and this is the only way we can do it. If you’ll let us send something, not to keep you, just to put a bit of jam on the bread if you like, it’d ease our minds no end, wouldn’t it, Mary?’
She slipped her arm through Lawrie’s. ‘Let Sam do it, Dada,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s the only way we can help. I can’t clean your windows or anything like Cathy does.’
‘And I can’t put up a shelf like Greg,’ Sam said. ‘But we want to be part of the family.’
‘You are, lad, you are,’ Sally and Lawrie both protested.
‘I’d feel I was if you’d let us do this,’ he said. ‘I’m sure my parents would take it if they were still alive.’
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