Kate saw the warm kindness reflected in his blue eyes, and gulped loudly. Oh lord, she was going to cry if this carried on. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, nor to the loving, open-hearted quarrelling that these two people seemed to thrive on. Since the night Florrie had seemingly vanished from the face of the earth, she had been living a kind of twilight existence. Unable to accept that she might never see her mother again, she had purposefully damped down all emotion in an effort to overcome the undescribable sense of loss that remained with her every waking moment of the day. Outwardly, she had tried to maintain a façade of normality for the sake of the children and her father, knowing that if she were to go under, they too would crack under the strain… Oh, stop it, stop it! Who are you trying to kid, anyway? The voice of reason came back at her. Everyone else had adjusted to their new lives. It was only she who refused to believe she would never see her mum again; even Billy, young as he was, maintained his nightly vigil only out of habit. But what else could she do? Shrug her shoulders and give up the search? It was what her dad and Alex were always telling her to do. Anyone listening to them would think it was the family pet that had gone missing instead of…
‘Are you all right, love?’
Startled, Kate looked up at John and forced a bright smile to her stiff lips. ‘Oh, yes, thank you. I was just wool-gathering. Please don’t let me stop you from going about your business.’
‘There you are, lad,’ Bridie said triumphantly. ‘In other words, get going! Me an’ the lass want a quiet word in peace without you hanging around like a demented leprechaun.’ And off they went again, the pair of them sparring over her head, and with a wry smile Kate turned her head and stared into the flames.
She hadn’t cried since that first night, not once – she was afraid to. Sometimes, mainly at night when the rest of the house was asleep, she would feel the tears beginning to form, but she always managed to keep them in check. The inner compartment of her mind, where reason prevailed, told her constantly that she was doing herself harm by not giving vent to her grief, yet she seemed powerless to change her self-imposed restrictions.
‘Well, I can take a hint! I’m off. But, before I go, are you sure you wouldn’t like a drop more milk in that stuff that me gran passes off for tea?’
Making an effort, she smiled back. ‘No, thank you.’ She desperately wanted to accept his offer, but could not offend the kindly woman. ‘And I really must be going. I can’t risk losing my job, not on top of everything else.’
Bridie jerked her head at her grandson, and, realising he couldn’t put it off any longer, John reluctantly made to leave. Pulling his cap down over his eyes, he clicked his fingers at the dog, saying cheerfully, ‘Come on, Spud, we’re being thrown out.’ But for once the dog didn’t respond. His eyes flicked almost furtively towards the tall figure before he snuggled his head down again in Kate’s warm lap.
‘Well, I’ll be blowed!’ John cried in amazement, then the warm smile that came so easily to his lips spread into a wide grin of delight. ‘You’ve certainly made a friend there, miss. He’s normally beating the door down to get out.’ He clicked his fingers again, and with much reluctance the dog moved away from his new-found friend, his soulful eyes casting an accusing glance at his master. ‘I’ll make some enquiries down St George’s Street… About your mother, I mean. You never know, someone might know where she is.’ He jingled some loose change in his pocket, then cleared his throat self-consciously. ‘Um… Will you be coming back to see us? You know, to see if I was able to find anything out?’
Before Kate could answer, Bridie said sharply, ‘Of course she’ll be coming back.’ Then, as if to verify her words, she asked tentatively, ‘You will, won’t you, lass?’
The kindness and genuine concern was nearly the undoing of Kate. Swallowing painfully over the lump that seemed to be swelling in her throat, she said quietly. ‘I’d like that, Mrs Kelly. I’d like that very much.’
From the doorway, John beamed with satisfaction, lifted a large box containing the shop’s daily supply of pies from the floor, then with a cheery ‘Ta-ra’ he left the house, the disgruntled dog following behind.
‘Now then, you’re not too hot there, are you, me lovely?’
‘Oh, no, Mrs Kelly, I’m fine, really,’ Kate lied bravely. Yet, despite the heat from the fire and the mug of black tea she was trying hard to drink without grimacing, she felt more at peace than she had done in a very long time. Resisting the urge to undo the top buttons of her blouse, she smiled across at the elderly woman. ‘I still haven’t thanked you properly for all your kindness. I don’t know what I would have done if you and your grandson hadn’t come along when you did.’
‘Aw, away with you, child. Sure an’ if we hadn’t helped you, someone else would have. Some of the places round these parts may be rough, but they’re mostly decent folk just trying to earn a living and get by the best way they can like the rest of us.’
She stopped her chatter for a moment and gazed at the girl sitting in her Dermot’s chair. My, but he’d get a gliff right enough, would her Dermot. Her husband of more than fifty years had always had an eye for a pretty face and his grandson took after him. She grinned broadly as she recollected John’s casual attitude towards the girl. Lord, but men were stupid creatures! Anyone with half an eye could see he was taken with her, and who could blame him? She was a lovely lass and no mistake, but that tale she’d spun about coming down here to find her mam, and the woman missing since October last… Bridie’s first thought had been that the woman had probably run away of her own free will, either to another man or to try her luck on the streets. But on seeing the picture that Kate carried around so lovingly, she had quickly changed her mind. No woman who looked like that would have to resort to the streets. If that was the life she was after, she’d have had no trouble in being set up in some fancy house with her clients seeking her out, instead of the other way around. But that notion had soon been quashed. Any woman who could inspire such love and devotion as this one obviously would never have left her children without a word. Her husband, aye, there was many a woman who had upped and left a tiresome husband behind without so much as a by-your-leave, but children – now that was a different story altogether.
She had a strong premonition: whatever the reason for the lass’s mother’s departure, that poor unfortunate woman had had no hand in it, of that Bridie was sure. Which left only one alternative. The woman was probably dead and, like many before her, had been tossed into the Thames, washing up God knows where, her face and body eaten away by the thousands of sea creatures that lurked in its murky waters. The disturbing thought brought her bolt upright, her heart pounding rapidly. Less than an hour ago she hadn’t even known of Kate’s existence; now it seemed she’d known her for ever, and her troubles mattered to Bridie.
Afraid that Kate would see the morbid thoughts mirrored in her face, she heaved herself from the chair and over to the range where she busied herself over the simmering pot. Scooping up a large ladle of porridge, she brought the steaming bowl back to the table, saying heartily, ‘Here, come to the table an’ get this down you; you look fair starved. An’ don’t you be taking any notice of what me grandson says. There’s nothing wrong with me porridge!’
‘Oh, no! I mean, it’s very kind of you, and I’m sure the porridge is delicious, but I must be getting to work.’ Kate struggled to extricate herself from the armchair, and when a strong arm almost hoisted her from its depths, she smiled wanly, then grinned, and to her surprise heard herself laugh aloud.
She let herself be led towards the table and sat down heavily on one of the four straight-backed chairs, still laughing so that tears started to trickle from her eyes. Then she wasn’t laughing any more, the tears of mirth swiftly turning into a torrent of wild uncontrollable anguish. Holding her hands to her face, Kate felt the hot, almost burning, tears rain down her cheeks, trickling through her fingers, the globules of water making tiny splashes on her burgundy skirt.
Bridie pulled up a chair, put a comforting arm around her heaving shoulders and waited patiently until the spasm had passed. When her sobs finally subsided, Kate felt drained yet curiously at peace. It was as though all the hurt, all the worry and anger of the last eighteen months had been dissolved, washed away on a tide of healing tears. When Bridie thrust a large cream-coloured handkerchief into her hand, she took it gratefully, wiping her eyes and nose. Her face felt tight with dried tears.
Sniffing loudly, she said, ‘You must think I’m an awful fool behaving like this. I don’t normally cry in front of strangers… In fact I don’t normally cry at all. I must look dreadful!’
Bridie surveyed her mottled face and puffy eyes, and smiled gently. ‘It had to happen sooner or later; either that, or the poison would’ve turned inwards. I knew a woman once who bottled up her grief, thinking that if she ignored it the pain would go away by itself. But it doesn’t happen like that. She ended up covered in boils and abscesses, an’ a more terrible sight you’ve yet to see. That’s why the good Lord gave us the relief of tears. A good cry or a good laugh is the best medicine in the world. Now you’ve had the first one, we’ll have to make sure you get plenty of the second.’
Dabbing at her eyes, Kate managed a watery smile, still shuddering slightly from the unaccustomed bout of crying. Oh, but it felt good. She felt good. Cleansed somehow, and refreshed, and strangely not uncomfortable at being seen in such dire straits. It seemed impossible to believe she had only just met this woman, this wonderful, kind and comforting woman. Kate had never been given to easy familiarity, preferring instead to let an acquaintance grow slowly without hurry until it seemed natural to apply the word friend. But this woman and her grandson had quickly gained an entrance to her heart; an entrance she had thought to have closed for ever.
Seeing there were no more tears to come, Bridie inclined her head towards the bowl of porridge. ‘Eat up, lass, afore it goes stone cold, and no arguments,’ she added warningly as Kate started a feeble protest. ‘An’ once you’ve got some food sticking to your bones, we’ll have another talk.’
Dutifully Kate did as she was bid, thinking that she would surely throw up if so much as a morsel of the thick, stodgy mess passed her lips. To her amazement she found she was ravenous and within minutes she had scraped the bowl clean, much to Bridie’s delight.
There now, didn’t I tell you you’d feel better? I’ll fetch another mug of tea an’ you can tell me all about your mam.’
Clutching another mug of tea, Kate took a deep breath and began to talk, and as if a deluge had opened up, the stumbling, shaky, words came pouring from her lips. Haltingly at first, then gaining confidence, she unburdened herself. Things she had buried in her mind came tumbling out, such as the unhappy atmosphere in the place she called home. She talked of Billy’s nightly vigil and her worry for her sisters. Always the quieter one of the family, Sally had retreated even further into her own private world, barely speaking unless she had to. Now she was asking if she could go away to boarding school, so desperate was she to get away from the house that was no longer a home but simply a place to dwell.
Alice on the other hand had reacted completely differently. Always the outgoing one, she had been causing Kate more and more worry of late. Since leaving school six months earlier, Alice had had two jobs, neither of which had lasted longer than a fortnight. And, despite her protestations of being unfairly dismissed, the truth was that she didn’t like work of any description, and each day it was becoming more and more difficult to get the recalcitrant girl out of bed to get Billy ready for school while Kate was at work. Though just turned fourteen, Alice considered herself a young woman and was deeply resentful at being told what to do. She especially resented having to look after Billy and the house in Kate’s absence. But that wasn’t Kate’s only worry regarding her sister. For Alice was already attracting the boys and enjoying every minute of the new, heady, experience.
Then there was her dad, who waited for her every evening, wanting to know how her day had been, whom she’d seen and talked to, demanding every inconsequential detail to make up for his own unproductive existence. Kate gave a shuddering sigh. If only he had made some friends over the years, or had a hobby to occupy him, he wouldn’t have to feed off other people’s lives. He wasn’t interested in what his younger children did during the day, seeing their lives as dull as his own. Alex had no time for his father, so it was left to Kate to try and fill the gaps in William’s lonely life. At such times when she was tired or not in the mood for talking, he would go off into one of his sulks, taking offence where none was intended. She closed her eyes wearily. It seemed as if everything had been left up to her, and she didn’t know how much more she could take.
‘And what about your brother?’ The innocent question made Kate jerk; the reaction wasn’t lost on Bridie’s shrewd eyes.
‘Alex?’ Kate’s voice had risen, as she tried to shy away from the scene she had witnessed on the quayside. ‘He’s my half-brother, actually. My dad was married before… I mean, before he met my mum. Oh, dear, I’m rambling on like an idiot!’ She lifted the cup and took another sip of the acrid tea. How could she tell this woman about Alex, when she didn’t understand him herself? At times her brother frightened her, and she didn’t know why. He was never unkind to her, quite the opposite. He seemed to go out of his way to please her, as if he were making up for Florrie’s absence, yet with each new kindness she became more and more uneasy. This last year he had taken to stopping out at night, sometimes not coming home for a few days, and at these times the whole family seemed to breathe easier. It was thought generally that Alex had found a woman, which in turn had caused her father fresh anxiety, seeing this as a threat to the easy life he had become accustomed to. But now, with the memory of the other side of Alex’s nature stamped vividly in her mind, she didn’t know what to think of him any more. His attitude towards their dad had often led to rows between him and Kate, but those instances she had put down to simple bad temper brought about by frustration at his father’s smothering dependence on him. Yet that other facet of his character she had witnessed down at the docks had been one of pure evil, and try as she might, she couldn’t shake off the awful memory.
Bridie eyed Kate shrewdly. It was obvious the girl was keeping something back, and she had a good idea it was the brother who was causing the problems. All in all, it seemed she had her plate full, one way and another. Briskly she took the half-full mug from Kate’s hands. ‘There, love, there’s no need to force it down. Well now, you’d best be on your way if you don’t want to find yourself out of a job. Just wait up a minute an’ I’ll walk along with you.’
Knowing it was useless to argue and loath to leave her company, Kate happily waited until Bridie was ready. Arm in arm they walked down the street, past the parade of shops where Bridie was greeted by all and sundry and in turn introduced Kate as ‘my friend’. This gesture gave Kate a warm feeling of belonging, and she hugged the new sensation fiercely to her breast.
‘Well, sure isn’t that a bit of luck?’ Bridie gestured at the oncoming tram. ‘Here, let me have another look at that picture.’ With the photo in her hand once more, she shook her head in wonderment. ‘Eh, lass, I don’t know why you bother carting this around with you. You’ve only to stop folk an’ ask if they’ve seen a woman who looks like yourself.’
While they waited for the passengers to alight from the platform, Bridie pulled her shawl tighter, a large wicker basket on her arm that contained a mountain of vegetables. ‘Now, lass, you get yourself off to your shop an’ I’ll get about me own business. I should have cooked these at home overnight,’ she said indicating the vegetables. ‘Me husband’s always saying I make work for meself, but the truth is, it’s better for business if folk can see the soup’s being made fresh. And there’s always enough left over at the end of the day to be heated up for the first few hours of the morning rush.’ She sighed. ‘Life’s strange, Kate, strange and often wonderful. Look at me. Over fifty years a
go we had to leave Ireland because of the famine, an’ here I am now earning me living selling the very thing that was the cause of driving me from me mother country.’ Clutching Kate’s arm, she said softly, ‘Just remember that, lass… about life, I mean. None of us knows what’s in store, or why things happen, but there’s usually a reason, even if we can’t always see it at the time.’
Knowing she was referring to her mother, Kate bowed her head, then, as if the person she used to be had been resurrected, she grinned broadly and said, ‘I’ll have to be watching my step, because I’m getting awfully careless. First I lose my mother, and now I’ve lost my hat!’
Gladdened by the levity in the girl’s tone, Bridie smiled back. ‘Aye, I have the same trouble meself at times. Mind, it’s usually the sign of old age creeping up… Oh, here, get yourself on board quick before it goes without you.’ She pushed Kate towards the scowling conductor.
The downstairs being full, Kate hurried up to the open top deck, blowing out her cheeks in relief at the sight of the many empty spaces on the slatted benches. Leaning over the side, she waved and shouted. ‘I’ll come back as soon as I can, Mrs Kelly. Oh, and can I bring my sisters and brother with me?’
‘Aye, lass, aye.’ Bridie half ran alongside the moving vehicle. ‘Bring them, the whole lot of them; you’ll be more than welcome.’
Kate craned her neck in an attempt to keep the grey-haired woman in sight for as long as possible, and when she could no longer see her, the feeling of emptiness returned, making her slump dejectedly. For a short while she had felt like she used to: young and alive and happy! Staring ahead over the bonnets and flat caps of the other passengers, she started to think of the red-haired man who had come to her rescue, smiling as she brought his open, honest face to mind. Then she frowned as something he had said earlier came back to her.
Bow Belles Page 9