by Anne Bennett
Before she could query this strange sight, Sean pointed to the other side of the road and said, ‘That imposing building there is a public library. You can take two books out for nothing and keep them for a fortnight.’
Maria could think of nothing nicer, for though she had little time to read now, as a child she’d always read the books her father had bought her for school from cover to cover before the term began. There had been precious little other reading material in the house, except perhaps a paper.
But before she had time to digest this properly, Sean said, ‘And this is Mason Road and the public swimming baths.’
Maria was amazed. So much entertainment and all close at hand. ‘How far away is the house now, Uncle Sean?’
‘No distance at all,’ Sean said as the taxi turned left at a little crossroads ahead of them. ‘It’s just at the end of this road, in fact.’
The road was wide and lined with trees. Behind them were imposing terraced houses with steps up to the front doors and the taxi driver drew to a halt in front of one of these. Two young boys almost leapt on Sean as he got out of the car. Maria saw an older girl, but she stood a short distance away, by the gate.
‘Away out of that,’ Sean said, turning his attention to the boys after paying the taxi driver. ‘Where are your manners? Greet your cousin Maria properly.’
‘Hello, Maria,’ the two boys chorused, but the girl, Maria noticed, said nothing. ‘This young rip here is Tony,’ Sean said, pointing to the sandy-haired boy with the dark, mischievous eyes. ‘And this here is Paul.’ He was younger and quieter than his boisterous brother. His hair was blond, his eyes blue, and he was not so cheeky-looking. ‘And this young lady, of course, is Patsy,’ Sean said, drawing her close and putting an arm around her. Patsy, who had been regarding Maria with dislike, now had a look of triumph on her face as she leant against Sean.
She’s jealous of me, Maria thought suddenly. That’s what’s the matter with her. She decided to take no notice. It was something the young girl had to get over and if she didn’t, it hardly would matter for the few days she would be there. She followed her uncle through the wrought-iron gate, down the side of the little lawned garden. There were six steps leading up to the front door. As they mounted them, Maria saw the window of a cellar room peeping from below.
She’d been impressed by the road and she was equally impressed by the house. The front door opened on to a small lobby. Another door with stained-glass windows opened on to a hall covered with patterned tiles.
‘You have a fine house, Uncle Sean,’ Maria said. ‘How many bedrooms have you?’
‘Four and a bathroom up there,’ Sean said, jerking his head towards the wide staircase to the left-hand side. ‘And two large attic rooms above that.’
‘Wow, a mansion of a house.’
Sean laughed. ‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘Come on and meet Martha.’
To the right was a long corridor with two doors leading off it and another at the end, but Sean didn’t open the first door. ‘The parlour,’ he said, by way of explanation. ‘It’s Martha’s pride and joy. What’s the betting it will seldom get used.’ Maria thought he was probably right and it seemed an utter waste of a room to her, but it wasn’t her place to comment and so she kept quiet.
Sean hadn’t noticed, because he was opening the next door, saying as he did so, ‘Now this is lived in.’ Maria saw the newspapers on the table, some of the cushions from the comfy-looking settee on the floor and cigarette ends in the ashtray. ‘I come in here sometimes,’ Sean said with a wry glance at the children, ‘to try and get a bit of peace. It seldom works. You can only come here when the weather is mild,’ he added, ‘for we can only get coal enough to heat the one room, so we tend to all live in the breakfast room. Thank God there is plenty of space in it.’
He had his hand on the door at the end of the corridor as he spoke, when suddenly it opened from the other side. Maria didn’t need Sean telling her who it was, for Martha was the spit of her daughter only smaller and plumper. Her hair was dark and so were her eyes, and her face, like Patsy’s, was long. The difference was that Martha’s wide mouth was caught up in a smile of welcome, while Patsy’s wore a sulky pout.
Maria extended her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she said, but Martha brushed her hand aside and put her arms around Maria. ‘We have all heard so much about you, my dear. I feel as if I know you already,’ she said. ‘Come in, come in. You must be worn out with the travelling.’
She ushered Maria into the room, saying as she did so, ‘I’d have been outside to welcome you, along with the children, but I was trying to get everything ready.’
‘Please don’t concern yourself, or go to any trouble.’ Maria said, putting her case on the table and beginning to unfasten it. ‘Knowing of the food shortage here, I’ve brought some food over for you.’
There was a large cooked ham wrapped in muslin, a whole dozen eggs, a large piece of cheese, a round of soda bread and another of barnbrack, and even some butter in a covered dish.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Martha said.
Sean, with a wink at Maria said, ‘God! That must be a first if you are stuck for words, woman.’
Martha flapped her hand at him. ‘Don’t mind him,’ she said. ‘He is just as grateful as I am, even if he is too pig ignorant to say so.’
Sean let forth a gale of laughter, the laugh Maria remembered from her childhood that she hadn’t heard for years as he cried, ‘I’ll give you pig ignorant when I catch hold of you.’ Martha gave a squeal and tried to twist away, but Sean caught her easily and held her tight.
Maria, though she was glad her uncle had found such happiness, felt suddenly bereft and alone, for she knew there was not that warm, comfortable feeling between her and Barney any more.
‘Won’t you sit down for a minute?’ Martha said. ‘The meal will be on the table in a jiffy and Sean will take your case up.’
Maria was glad to sit on the settee, for she was weary. The fire blazing merrily in the hearth was very welcoming. As she sat, she looked around the comfortable room. A fluffy cream rug was pulled up before the gleaming brass fender, covering some of the lino, which was patterned with dainty little blue cornflowers. On either side of the fireplace were filled bookcases, a wireless to one side on a small table. But dominating the room was a large wooden table.
Sean said to Maria, ‘That’s done sterling service. It was one of the first items Martha bought with her first husband, and now the children do their homework at it, especially in the winter months when their bedrooms are like ice boxes.’
‘Some of us do homework,’ Patsy said disparagingly, with a glare at the elder of her two brothers. ‘Some thickos don’t seem to have homework at all.’
‘Who you calling a thicko?’ Tony said. ‘Anyroad, I do homework if it’s set.’
‘Doesn’t seem to be set much then,’ Patsy said and added, ‘I suppose they think there is little point.’
Tony glared at her. ‘Like our mom says, if you can’t say nowt nice, you should keep your gob shut.’
‘Why should I? Just ‘cos you say so?’ Patsy said sneeringly. ‘And you are stupid. Paul gets more homework than you, and he gets it done quicker.’
‘That will do, Patsy,’ Martha said, coming in from the kitchen. Though her voice was quiet, it was firm.
‘But, Mom—’
‘You heard what I said,’ Martha said. ‘Come and get the knives and forks and lay the table.’
‘Bloody great know-all,’ Tony said to Patsy’s retreating back.
‘Tony!’ Sean rapped out. ‘We’ll have less of that. If your mother had heard that she would wash your mouth out with carbolic. Anyway, I’m surprised at you arguing with your sister on Maria’s first night here.’
‘She started it,’ Tony protested.
‘Anyway,’ Paul put in, ‘Maria will probably get used to it.’ And he added in an aside to Maria, ‘Tony and Patsy is always at it, like hammer and tongs.’
T
he laughter resulting from this comment covered any awkwardness.
After the meal Maria tried hard with Patsy, asking her questions about her life, but Patsy made it clear Maria was not her favourite person by any means. She was too clever to be downright rude, but she still was able to make Maria feel she had no right to ask her any questions at all and any she did deign to answer she did briefly and brusquely.
When Maria went up the bedroom allocated to her later, to unpack her case, Martha followed her.
‘Can I have a word?’
‘Of course,’ Maria said. ‘Is there some sort of problem?’
‘Yeah, in a way.’ Martha said. ‘It’s Patsy. I’m sorry about the way she’s behaving in front of you.’
‘Oh, it’s all right,’
‘No, it’s not all right,’ Martha said. ‘I suppose you know it’s jealousy, pure and simple.’
‘I had worked that out,’ Maria said. ‘But soon I will be miles away.’
‘I know that,’ Martha said. ‘The problem is Sean has so effectively taken the place of Ted, something I thought would never happen. She doesn’t like sharing him, even with me sometimes. We have such few family you see, and I don’t suppose that helps. My mother and father, two younger brothers and a younger sister were all killed in a raid on Birmingham in November 1940, when Patsy was just coming to terms with her father’s death at Dunkirk. Then Ted’s father took sick with bronchitis the winter of 1942 and when the bronchitis turned to pneumonia and he died, his wife just sort of faded away. Ted was an only one, you see, and with him gone, and her husband, I think she lost all will to live. Anyway, she was buried alongside her husband and then it was just me and the kids.’
‘Oh, Martha, I am so sorry.’
‘It was grim,’ Martha admitted, ‘and though I weren’t the only one to lose my family by any means, knowing that didn’t help, and I was so incredibly lonely and sad. But you have to get on with it, don’t you?’
‘Aye,’ said Maria with feeling.
‘The losses of all those close to her affected Patsy most of all,’ Martha said. ‘She told me once she wasn’t going to love anyone any more, because whenever she did, they were taken from her. When I met your uncle, it took ages for her to drop her reserve with him and then, once he’d broken through that, she loved him unreservedly, just like she had her father, though she won’t call him “Dad” like the boys do. She’s terrified of losing the special place she has in his heart, but even recognising this, her attitude towards you can not be tolerated and I will speak to her.’
‘Please don’t say anything,’ Maria said. ‘Now I understand a little more. You mustn’t let this put a damper on your wedding day. I will be home in a few days’ time anyway, and she will have Sean all to herself again.’
However, despite Maria’s spirited words to Martha, she did find it difficult to live in a house where someone actively disliked her. Patsy was either barely civil, or icily overpolite, but the scathing and disparaging looks were nearly as bad as the words.
On Friday morning, Sean went to collect his suit from the cleaners and Martha the dress Maria had sent her, which she’d had altered to fit. The children had taken the day off from school and Maria, finding herself alone with them, commented to the two boys how lucky they were to be living so close to the village with its cinema, library and public baths.
Before either of the boys were able to speak, Patsy said, ‘It’s not so great. Aston was just as good. But,’ she added scornfully, ‘I suppose you would think anything was great, coming from a little tin-pot village.’
Maria refused to rise to the bait and just said pleasantly, ‘There is little in the village in the way of entertainment unless we make our own, but Derry is only fifteen miles away, where there are attractions galore. I just meant it’s handy to have them all on the doorstep.’
‘I bet Derry is nothing to Birmingham,’ Patsy went on. ‘After all. Birmingham is the second city.’
‘Well, I don’t know Birmingham,’ said Maria, ‘except for the little I saw as we passed through it in the taxi. I did see it has an awful lot of bomb damage and if you have not seen Derry you aren’t in a position either to make a comparison.’
‘Oh, aren’t you Miss Clever Clogs?’
‘That’s you,’ Tony said. ‘Swanking it up at St Aggie’s. Surprised you even talk to the likes of us.’
Patsy’s eyes narrowed. Tony was fair game. She could vent her spleen on him and leave Maria alone, and not have her mother on her back or Sean looking at her with reproachful eyes. ‘I wouldn’t talk to you if I had a choice in the matter,’ she said.
‘Don’t then,’ Tony said. ‘I would suit me. Be a bit quieter with you keeping your gob shut.’
Paul caught Maria’s eye and cast his own to the ceiling as if to say, ‘Here we go again.’
Maria had to nip on her lip to stop herself smiling as Patsy snapped. ‘Why don’t you crawl under the stone you came from?’
‘Why don’t you?’
‘You’re a grubby, stinking, horrible little monster,’ Patsy said, irritated by Tony’s calmness. ‘And I hate you!’
Not sure whether it was a wise move or not, Maria felt she had to try to intervene. ‘Come on, you two.’
The look Patsy gave her was venomous. ‘Keep out of this, you. It’s not your business and the sooner you go home the better I’d like it.’
And me, Maria thought. She felt she already had enough going on in her life without taking on board the problems of a teenager she hardly knew, and whom she wasn’t particularly keen on getting to know either.
She rose and said to Patsy, ‘I think I will go to my room until you are in a better temper.’
‘Huh, that’ll be the day,’ Tony said, with a hoot of laughter.
‘Shut your mouth!’
‘Shan’t, just ‘cos you say so.’
Maria shut the door behind her. They were well used to arguing this fiercely, judging by Paul’s reaction, and anyway, she didn’t care any more. They could go ahead and kill each other and she would leave them to get on with it.
‘What d’you think of the dress?’ Martha said a little later, lifting it from the box,
‘It’s lovely,’ Maria said sincerely, ‘and very different from the way I wore it.’
‘Well, I’m dumpier that you,’ Martha said, ‘and a dropped waist wouldn’t have suited me at all, so I had the waist raised and the leftover material made into two panels either side of the zip to accommodate my larger waist and bust.’
‘The woman has done a good job,’ Maria had to admit, admiring the workmanship.
‘She’s run off her feet with all this make do and mend,’ Martha said. ‘She told me when I took this in she hardly ever gets her hands on such lovely material and would enjoy working on it so much it would be a pity to charge me.’ Martha gave a rueful grin and said, ‘She did though, and a pretty penny too.’
The two women laughed together and then Martha went on, ‘Anyway, because of your generosity in giving me this dress I was able to go down the Rag Market and get enough material to make Patsy a bridesmaid’s dress.’ She drew the beautiful dress of royal-blue satin from the box too.
Maria admired the dress, intrigued by where Martha said she had got the fabric. ‘The Rag Market?’ she asked. ‘Where’s that?’
Martha laughed. ‘Terrible name, I know,’ she said. ‘And they don’t sell rags, though they do have a few second-hand stalls, but it is a place where the bargains are to be had. Next time, if you come on a longer visit, the two of us will go and have a butcher’s. What do you say?’
‘I don’t know when that will be, with Daddy the way he is,’ Maria said.
‘I know,’ Martha said gently. ‘But your daddy won’t always be there. But what am I saying? By then you’ll probably have a houseful of children around you.’ She raised her eyebrows speculatively.
‘I don’t think so,’ Maria said. ‘There’s been no sign yet, anyway.’
‘It’s early days.�
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‘We’ve been married fourteen months and it isn’t as if we are not trying,’ Maria said. ‘But I’m not going to think of it either today or tomorrow. I’m here to see my uncle make an honest woman of you and I intend to enjoy the whole experience.’
‘It’s made the day for Sean, you being here,’ Martha said. ‘And don’t worry, I love Sean very much and intend to make him happy.’
‘Well,’ said Maria, ‘you are doing all right so far, anyway. I’ve not seen Uncle Sean like this for a very long time. He’s like a dog with two tails, so he is.’
The wedding, at the abbey church, went without a hitch. Both Martha and Sean were short on relatives, but many old neighbours had travelled up from Aston. Some of Sean’s workmates were also invited, including Kenny O’Connor, who’d helped him get a job in the Dunlop factory. Everyone seemed intent on making the day special for Sean and Martha. Maria thought back to her own wedding day with sadness.
Later, back at the house, Sean introduced Maria to Father Flynn, who’d taken the Mass, and explained she was over from Donegal for the wedding.
‘I’m from Connemara myself,’ he told Maria. ‘I believe Donegal too is very beautiful.’
‘It is, Father,’ Maria said. ‘My home is in a little village called Moville on the Inishowen Peninsular, and we can look over Lough Foyle and Derry and all. It was beautiful once and will be again, I suppose, but now the docks in Derry has been given over to the navy, and naval ships, rather than fishing boats, fill the waters.’
‘Ah, this war has affected many lives,’ the priest said, shaking his head. ‘Terrible tragedies altogether.’
‘My uncle thinks it will be over soon,’ Maria said. ‘Do you see an end in sight, Father?’
‘Ah, if only I had a crystal ball, my dear,’ he said. ‘I don’t know, but I hope your uncle is right. I see you have a ring on your finger,’ he added, looking around the room. ‘Is your husband with you?’
‘No, Father.’ Maria went on to explain about her father’s accident and the effect on her mother’s delicate nerves, and Barney staying behind to see to things.