Mother’s Only Child

by Anne Bennett

  The schools opened, but the children were often sent home, for there was no power. Many roads became impassable and trains were either delayed or cancelled altogether. Supplies weren’t getting through to the shops so even the rations couldn’t be relied on, and there was further rationing on coal.

  Few buses were running, including the one down to the Dunlop factory. Barney, by preference, would have stayed in bed, but Sean said they couldn’t afford to lose money and so they walked, along with many others, wading their way through the drifts and trying to keep their feet on the icy roads.

  Martha worried about them being in wet clothes all day, for when they returned at night, they were grey with fatigue and soaked to the skin. Patsy would often come in from school in the same state and soon the house smelt permanently of damp and steaming clothes. Some of the younger girls at the convent were sent home, but those studying for the matriculation or Higher School Certificate were encouraged to continue to come to school. Patsy wouldn’t have dreamt of having any time off, only too aware of how little she had given her studies the previous year.

  She had plenty of time now to study, for most of the girls left her alone. This wasn’t just to do with her neglect of them, but also because of the things Chloë had whispered to them of Patsy’s exploits.

  ‘…With a married man, and a relative into the bargain,’ she’d said, aghast. ‘Smoking and drinking, no less, and plenty of sex too, I imagine, for all she tried to say there wasn’t.’

  Chloë had envied Patsy’s illicit carry-on while it had remained a secret, but the envy turned to outrage when it had all come to light, and it seemed suddenly sordid and wrong. ‘My mother says I am not to have anything more to do with you,’ she told Patsy.

  Patsy was saddened, for they had been friends a long time, but she told herself she deserved no better. Patsy wasn’t the only one grounded at that time. It was such an effort to go anywhere that most people were content to stay in if they had the choice. Even Barney had to forgo many of his evenings at the pub. Being unusually sober didn’t improve his temper any, and he frequently took his bad humour out on Maria, snapping and shouting at her often, for little or nothing. Patsy saw Maria bore it with little complaint.

  ‘Don’t you mind?’ she asked one day.

  ‘Patsy, I mind so much about the things Barney does that I cannot change,’ Maria said. ‘Shouting at me doesn’t even seem worth caring about.’

  ‘Why don’t you at least shout back?’

  ‘That wouldn’t help and it might frighten Sally,’ Maria said. ‘She’s nervous enough of her father as it is.’

  ‘I would say that’s because he virtually ignores her.’

  He did, and it hurt Maria. Sally had given up on her own father, but loved Sean. Both her and Deirdre would clamber all over him at every opportunity. He had immense patience, treated both children the same, and would play with them and read them stories endlessly.

  The big freeze went on until mid-March and then the thaw began. Icicles disappeared and the snow began to drip from the gilded trees and run down the hedges from the crusted tops. The snow on the ground softened and turned slushy. Often there would be a roar like that of an express train and snow would slide from roofs to lie in sodden lumps in streets and gardens.

  The drains were unable to cope with this amount of melted snow and there was much flooding. Martha and Sean were more fortunate than many, being halfway up a hill, but, even so, their cellar didn’t escape and Martha and Maria had to attack the offending seepage with mops and buckets. Even the children were glad to see the back of the snow.

  With the warmer weather, towards the end of March, spring felt only just around the corner, though Patsy couldn’t really enjoy the spring that year. She was up to her eyes in revision and often looked strained and white with exhaustion. She really seemed to have taken almost a dislike to Barney, which Maria thought odd when she’d once thought him such a grand fellow. Maria wondered if Barney had done or said something to offend, but hesitated to ask. She was getting on better with Patsy now, but both were feeling their way and she didn’t want to rock the boat.

  Patsy had even said to her once, ‘Why don’t you hate me, Maria?’

  ‘Why should I hate you?’

  ‘I gave you such a hard time,’ Patsy said candidly. ‘And I more than hated you—I loathed you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘That’s just it,’ Patsy said. ‘I don’t know. I mean, you’d never done anything to me.’

  ‘Your mother said you were jealous of Sean’s affection for me.’

  Patsy pondered this for a moment and then went on, ‘Mom’s probably right. I know I was angry about a lot of stuff then. That seems really stupid now.’

  ‘That’s called growing up,’ Maria said with a smile.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose,’ Patsy said. ‘I’m glad we are friends now, though.’

  ‘Me too.’ And she wasn’t going to disturb that by asking if Barney had offended her in any way.

  She’d never risk asking the man himself. During the big freeze, Barney had been unable to visit his brother, so in April he had gone over for a week. While their marriage had not been a bed of roses before he left, after he returned it was worse still. It was hard now to remember the man who was once so full of fun, or how gentle and understanding he had been with her father. There wasn’t even the spark of gentleness in him now.

  These days the most innocuous of remarks could result in a tirade. Many times she had wished Barney would give up the drink—or at least drink less, and less often—but when he couldn’t go out some nights in the freeze, he was worse, and often lashed out at her when they were in the bedroom. This she kept hidden from everyone.

  Deirdre and Sally turned two and as before the two girls shared a party, on Saturday, 9 August. The two of them, one so fair and one so dark, were the greatest of friends and a delight to all of the family.

  For the life of her, Maria could not understand how Barney could be immune to the charms of his small daughter, but he was. That was why, when she told Barney the morning of the party that she was pregnant again, she expected no burst of enthusiasm, which was just as well. All he did was look at her with glowering eyes and say, ‘Let’s hope you get it right this time and give me a son.’

  Maria had the urge to lie down and weep, she felt so demoralised by Barney’s reaction. Martha and Sean more than made up for it, though. ‘I thought there was something about you,’ Martha said. ‘A sort of bloom. When’s it due?’

  ‘In February,’ Maria said. ‘Sally will be two and a half,’

  ‘A nice age,’ Martha enthused. ‘Won’t she be delighted?’

  ‘I hope so,’ Maria said. ‘But I’ll say she won’t be on her own. In fact, she might not get a look in at all with wee Deirdre, for I think she will be just as excited.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll say,’ Martha agreed. ‘Was Barney pleased?’

  She saw the shadow of disappointment flit across Maria’s face before she said, ‘He’ll probably be satisfied if I give him a son this time.’

  ‘Well, that’s one thing no one has any control over,’ Martha said grimly. ‘Barney will have to be content with whatever God sends, like many more.’

  Ten days after the girls’ party, the results of the matriculation exams were sent to the convent. Patsy wished she had someone to walk up with her to get them, for it was lonely and a little scary on her own. She’d always imagined that she would go up arm in arm with Chloe, but she barely spoke to her any more.

  She needn’t have worried about the results, however. She had passed everything with flying colours, and Sean was like a dog with two tails.

  In September, Patsy entered the sixth form at the convent and settled down to study for her Higher School Certificate. Tony went into the secondary school of the abbey that September. He’d point-blank refused to take the eleven-plus. ‘I aint clever enough and I don’t need no bits of paper to tell me that,’ he’d said. ‘I think all this book learning is fl
ipping stupid anyroad, and I’m going down the Dunlop with Dad when I leave school.’

  Theresa Margaret McPhearson was born in the afternoon of Thursday, 5 February 1948. While Maria was captivated with the tiny wee thing, she knew she’d have disappointed Barney once more and wondered if she’d suffer for it later. But she was immensely glad she’d had another child. She knew from experience the burden laid on an only child, and she would not wish that on any child of hers.

  Patsy brought Deirdre and Sally in to introduce them to the new addition to the family. ‘She’s my sister,’ Sally said possessively; this had been fully explained to her.

  ‘And mine,’ Deirdre said. The girls normally shared everything.

  ‘No,’ Sally said almost triumphantly. ‘Just mine.’

  ‘That will do, Sally,’ Maria chided gently, for she had seen the wobble of Deirdre’s bottom lip. ‘She is your sister, but Deirdre’s cousin, and both of you can help me care for her.’

  ‘World War Three averted,’ whispered Patsy, and Maria smiled.

  Tony and Paul, when they came home from school, were delighted with Theresa too.

  ‘Ain’t she small?’ Paul breathed. ‘I can’t ever remember our Deirdre being that little.’ He touched the baby’s hand delicately with one stubby finger and was delighted when Theresa grasped it tight and folded her fingers over it. ‘She’s holding my hand, Maria,’ he cried. ‘That means she likes me, don’t it?’

  ‘All babies do that, stupid,’ Tony informed him.

  ‘I ain’t stupid, and how do you know that anyroad?’

  “Cos our Deirdre did it to me when she was a nipper and our mom told me they all did.’

  ‘But I’m sure she will like you,’ Maria said. ‘Why wouldn’t she?’

  ‘I can think of plenty of reasons.’ Tony said with a grin.

  Paul punched him on the arm with his free hand. ‘Shurrup, you.’

  Tony ignored him and instead asked, ‘Can I hold her, Maria, just for a bit? I’ll be real gentle.’

  Later, Maria contrasted the boys’ reaction to that of her husband when he came home from work. He barely looked into the cradle and only said, ‘Another bloody girl.’

  ‘Aye, a fine and healthy wee girl,’ Maria snapped, hurt by his reaction. ‘Can’t you take joy in that? How can you not be moved by such a tiny thing?’

  ‘I’m just not that way inclined,’ Barney said. ‘It seems like I’ll have to wait for ever for my son.’

  Theresa was three months old when Sean told Maria she should go up to the council offices and see where they were on the housing list. Maria had put her name down the day after she had arrived in Birmingham, the same day she had got her ration books.

  ‘We are not that overcrowded, but with our own four children and your two as well, you might be in with a chance.’

  Maria knew she should feel pleased. Everyone surely wanted their own front door, their own place, but she was wary of moving away and living just with Barney. She seldom complained about her husband, and though he did give her the odd slap now and then, she guessed it was the proximity of Sean that made him go no further than that. But the arrangement to stay with Sean and Martha was never meant to be a permanent one.

  ‘I’ll see about it,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll need some money behind your for furnishings for when you do get a place,’ Sean said to Barney later. ‘Any news on selling that house?’

  Barney shook his head. ‘Market’s dead at the moment.’ In actual fact, Barney had made no enquiries as to selling the house, for renting it suited him fine. Every month, the agent would send him a nice cheque, which he would cash, putting the money in the tin. His stash of money was severely depleted now, and the extra was always useful, but he knew better than to tell Sean that.

  ‘I would see about it, if I were you,’ Sean advised. ‘If you were to contact the agent and tell him that you could use the money, he might try harder. Thank God you have the money from the boatyard, so you can make a start, at least.’

  ‘There isn’t a lot left from that sale,’ Barney said. ‘There were the fares and all over here.’

  ‘Only yours. I paid for Maria,’ Sean pointed out.

  ‘Still and all, there were all sorts of expenses.’

  Aye, like gambling debts and beer, Sean might have said, but he didn’t. It frustrated Sean that he couldn’t take Barney to task more. It upset him greatly to see his beloved niece so careworn and unhappy as she often appeared.

  However, when he had suggested doing that a time or two. Martha discouraged him, remembering Maria’s word the day after that first beating and the panic in her eyes. She didn’t dare tell Sean that she was afraid that Barney might hit Maria. If he thought he had laid a hand on her, there would be no holding him and the consequences then did not bear thinking about. So she told him that if he were to upset Barney, she was sure Maria would bear the brunt of the man’s ill humour.

  She was pretty sure Barney did still hit Maria now and again, for she had seen marks on her face, although she was getting more skilful at covering them now. It haunted Martha that he might really hurt her if Sean was to go for him.

  Sean was well aware of the surly, ill-tempered way Barney already spoke to his niece, which she just put up with. For her sake, he would often bite his tongue where Barney was concerned, though sometimes he felt less of a man doing so. However, after Barney’s words about the boatyard money he decided to contact the agent in Derry himself and see what was what regarding the house. Maria and Barney couldn’t move anywhere with no money.

  The mood in the country was more optimistic at that time. The Family Allowance being paid out from 1946 of five shillings for second and subsequent children, was proving a boon, particularly for those with big families. The rationing of bread was lifted in 1948, and jam was also declared off ration. In July in London there was the first Olympic Games of peacetime but, more importantly, for the average man in the street was the arrival of the Health Service on 5 July.

  It cheered everyone too when a baby boy called Charles was born on 14 November to Princess Elizabeth, who was heir to the throne. Maria was three months pregnant herself by then, and delighted about it, despite the fact that Therese would be only fifteen months old when the new baby was born.

  ‘It will be hard work at first,’ she said to Martha, when she expressed concern about it, ‘but Sally is a great hand, you know, and often appears older than her years. Anyway, I am thrilled and sure, won’t they all grow up together?’

  The lady from the council visited the day after the royal prince’s birth. Maria told her that she was pregnant and the woman noted it down in the file she had. ‘You have two other children, I believe?’ she said.

  ‘Aye.’ Maria said. ‘Sally is three and Theresa nine months.’

  ‘And is your husband is in full-time work?’

  ‘Aye, at the Dunlop.’

  All this was written down too, and then she enquired about Sean and Martha and the names and ages of their children.

  ‘Is there a chance of a place?’ Maria asked, as the woman was putting all the papers in her case.

  ‘It’s all based on a points system,’ the woman said, ‘but the fact that you have been on the list for nearly three years and will soon have three children, plus the fact that, as your husband is working, you will have no difficulty in paying the rent, will undoubtedly make a difference. Have you a preference for a particular area?’

  Maria shook her head. ‘I hardly know the city at all,’ she said. ‘But I wouldn’t want to be that far from the Dunlop.’

  ‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ the woman promised. ‘You will be hearing from me in due course.’

  When Sean heard of the woman’s visit he told Barney to redouble his efforts with the agent in Derry. When he had been in touch with the man earlier in the year he’d been astounded to hear that Barney told him there was no rush to sell the property, and that he had been receiving a nice cheque every month from the people renting it.
Sean knew where that money had been spent: what hadn’t been tipped down Barney’s neck had been laid on the card table. Sean had told the agent the situation had changed and the money from the sale of the house would soon be needed, but there had been no luck so far.

  Then in early December, Barney had a letter from Ned, who made him an offer for the house. To get the boatyard up and running the way he liked it, he needed to be on the spot.

  ‘It’s just perfect,’ Barney said, ‘for the tenancy runs out in just over a fortnight.’

  The transaction was completed in the New Year and this time, mindful of what had happened to the money from the boatyard, Sean insisted that Barney deposit it in the Municipal Bank.

  It was early March before Barney and Maria were given the keys to a house in a road called Westmead Crescent, on the nearby Pype Hayes estate. It was on the corner and had a lawn in front of the bay window. On the other side of the path to the door were small trees and shrubs.

  Barney turned the key in the front door and they stepped into a small hall with stairs facing them. Without a word, Barney mounted them and Maria followed him. Three doors opened off the small square landing. Two of the rooms were double sized and even the smallest room wasn’t tiny.

  ‘No bathroom,’ Barney said.

  ‘Must be downstairs,’ Maria said. ‘Shall we go and find it?’

  It was off the fair-sized kitchen, though the toilet was outside, next to the back door. Looking through the kitchen window, Maria saw the large and wellkept garden, with fruit bushes at the very end, and she could imagine her two little girls and the third child, as yet unborn, playing there in safety. Maybe they could buy a swing if they had money enough.

  ‘I like it,’ she said. ‘And with the rent at twelve and six a week, we can well afford it.’

  ‘You will wear yourself out with all this gadding about shopping,’ Martha said to Maria a week later. ‘You are only two months from giving birth. Why don’t you take it steadier and leave some of it until you’ve had the baby?’