When the Clouds Go Rolling By

by When the Clouds Go Rolling By (retail) (epub)

  He did so and went to light the lamps.

  Gabrielle adjusted her skirts and then looked at Eudora. ‘Well, what were you doing visiting the old cow?’

  Eudora tutted. ‘Really, Gertie, have you still not forgiven her?’

  ‘Don’t call me Gertie. You haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘She asked me to visit her. I think she sees me as a link to you and she doesn’t have long to live. If your religion means anything to you, you should give her peace of mind before she passes over.’

  Gabrielle was silent, wondering about the forces that had brought her here to Lime Street at the same time as her old rival. Did God have a hand in it, or was it the devil? She came to a decision. ‘If I’m going to see her then it has to be now. Tomorrow I might change my mind.’

  ‘But I’ve just come back from there!’ exclaimed Eudora. ‘Do you know what time it is?’

  ‘You don’t have to come with me. Just lend me your car,’ said Gabrielle.

  Freddie, who had been listening to their conversation, lifted his head. ‘Make a decision, ladies, I can’t stay here much longer.’

  Eudora sighed. ‘Take us back to the O’Tooles’ house, Freddie dear.’

  To his delight it was Clara who answered the door. For a moment she just stared at him as if she could eat him. Then he said, ‘Hello, love. Can we come in? I’ve got your aunt here with me.’

  She reached out and clutched him and gazed at the shadowy shapes of the two women adjusting their hats. ‘You’re serious?’ she whispered.

  ‘Too right I am. Aren’t you pleased?’

  ‘Of course! I can’t wait to see Gran’s face.’ Her voice trailed off as the taller of the women approached.

  Clara could not see her face clearly but when she spoke, her words were beautifully articulated. ‘So you’re Dennis’s daughter. I’m so pleased to meet you.’ Gabrielle surprised her by engulfing her in a scented embrace. ‘I think you deserve a medal.’

  ‘Fo-for what?’ stammered Clara, staring over her aunt’s shoulder at Freddie.

  ‘Coping with Mam, of course.’ Gabrielle kissed her niece on both cheeks before releasing her.

  Clara pushed a lock of hair that had come loose behind her ear. ‘You’d best come in. Gran’s in the kitchen. I only hope…’ She did not finish what she was thinking.

  ‘Right!’ Gabrielle squared her shoulders, adjusted her hat once more and tilted her chin. ‘You lead the way, luv.’

  Her aunt’s use of the word luv took Clara by surprise, but her step did not falter as she walked up the lobby.

  Clara could scarcely contain her emotions. ‘Gran, I’ve a surprise for you,’ she managed in a croaky voice, wondering whether daughter and mother would recognise each other after all these years.

  ‘The prodigal has returned, Ma,’ said Gabrielle.

  There was no break in Bernie’s laboured breathing – she had dozed off and was unaware of her eldest daughter’s presence. ‘Holy Mary, mother of God, what does she look like?’ muttered Gabrielle, scowling. ‘I know. She reminds me of the old sow on the farm.’

  ‘That’s a lovely thing to say about your mother,’ said Eudora, who had slipped into the kitchen after her.

  Gabrielle shrugged and placed her handbag on the table. ‘When I imagined seeing her again, it was never like this.’

  ‘Strange, isn’t it?’ said Eudora, walking over to the old woman and gently shaking her shoulder. ‘Mrs O’Toole, wake up. You’ll never guess who’s come to visit you,’ she cooed.

  Bernie’s breathing seemed to catch in her throat and for a moment it seemed as it might stop altogether and then her heart continued its laboured beat. She opened her eyes and blinked sleepily at those gathered there. Her gaze fixed on Freddie and then Eudora. ‘Yer’ve done it,’ she wheezed. ‘Yer’ve brought my Denny back to me.’

  ‘Don’t be so daft, Mam. Even Edie’s not that bloody brilliant. She can’t perform miracles,’ said Gabrielle.

  ‘Sadly, that’s true,’ sighed Eudora.

  Bernie’s face sagged with disappointment and then her eyes lifted and she gazed at the tall, black-clad figure a couple of feet away.

  ‘Better late than never, hey, Mam?’ said Gabrielle.

  ‘Yer came!’ Bernie’s face looked almost luminous.

  Not so her eldest daughter’s. ‘I thought I’d like to hear you beg for my forgiveness after all these years,’ she said harshly. ‘You really were a lousy mother.’

  Bernie flinched and her chest heaved as she struggled with her breathing. ‘I’ve bloody changed me mind,’ she gasped. ‘I think… yer’ve a lot to be grateful to me for. Yer… yer… wouldn’t be dressed to the nines… if it weren’t for me. Yer could have ended up like yer sisters: three dead from consumption, another from septicaemia and another in childbirth from a stupid, careless midwife coming from laying out the dead and not washing her hands. So yous be grateful, girl, that I drove yer away.’

  ‘Holy Mary, you still can’t do it, can you?’ shouted Gabrielle, bending over her. ‘You couldn’t then and you can’t now. It sticks in your throat, saying sorry for all the times you beat me.’

  Bernie’s face quivered as if it was about to collapse.

  ‘Stop it!’ cried Clara, shoving her aside and placing an arm about her grandmother’s shoulders.

  Bernie reached up and clung to her granddaughter’s hand. ‘Yer wrong,’ she whispered. ‘I am sorry. Will that do yer, girl?’

  ‘It’ll have to, won’t it,’ said Gabrielle, her voice trembling now. ‘I hope your conscience is clear and you’re ready to meet St Peter at the pearly gates.’ She took a deep breath. ‘As for me, I’ve got a man to find.’ She glanced at Freddie. ‘You! Get me back to my hotel. I’ve finished here.’

  Clara stared at her with tears in her eyes. ‘I wish I’d never written to you. Where is your conscience? Where is your forgiveness?’

  The blood rushed to Gabrielle’s cheeks. ‘Don’t talk to me like that, girl. No doubt she pampered you, the daughter of her only son. You didn’t have my life with her. I’m out of here.’ Without another word she walked out of the kitchen.

  Freddie placed a hand on Clara’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. ‘You did what your gran wanted, love. You’ve nothing to berate yourself about. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  Eudora looked at them and said quietly, ‘Come, Freddie. Time we were going. Give your grandmother a dose of my tonic, Clara. It’ll calm her down. Forgive me if I have done anything to bring you pain.’

  Clara nodded, too upset to speak.

  For several minutes she did not move, and then she fetched the tonic, poured some in a glass and placed it in Bernie’s hand. She seemed so weak that Clara helped to raise it to her lips. She drank and then rested her head against the back of her chair and closed her eyes.

  Clara left her a moment to wash the glass and put the bottle away. She felt all knotted up inside, furious with her aunt for being so unforgiving. Then it struck her that the kitchen was extremely quiet. She hurried over to Bernie and bent over her. She fumbled for her grandmother’s pulse, only to find that she had gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‘I wonder if he was there,’ said Clara, crunching into a slice of toast.

  ‘Who? Where?’ asked Mary absently.

  ‘Dad, when Gran passed over.’

  ‘Oh, don’t start talking like that, Clara.’ Mary stood up and said briskly, ‘With your gran dead you’ll have a bedroom to spare. I know someone if you’d like to take in another lodger. You’re free to do what you want now.’

  Clara stared at her and said coolly, ‘It’s early days to be thinking like that. I’ve a funeral to arrange and people I need to get in touch with.’ It was with a sense of relief that she thought of Freddie, who should arrive at the house sometime soon. The doctor had been and written out the death note and Clara had been to early mass and spoken to the priest. It would be tomorrow before she could visit the undertaker’s. Thank God it was Sunday a
nd she didn’t have to go to work.

  Mary left her alone and Clara decided to stew the rabbit she had bought for their Sunday lunch. Gran would hate for it to be wasted and Freddie might eat her share. She sighed, thinking of the old woman laid out upstairs on her bed. It had been a struggle getting her body up there but, between them, she and Mary had managed. Clara found it strange that she should still be listening out for Bernie’s laboured breathing. It was going to take some time getting used to her not being around but, as Mary had said, Clara was now free to do what she wanted. At the moment, all she wanted was to see Freddie.

  Clara did not have long to wait. Three-quarters of an hour after Mary had left the house there was a knock on the front door. She hurried to answer it and was so relieved to see Freddie’s smiling face that she flung herself at him.

  ‘Hey, that’s a nice welcome,’ he said, swinging her up in the air.

  ‘I’m just so glad to see you. Wait till I tell you what’s happened!’

  He set her down on her feet and gazed into her eyes. ‘Your gran…’

  ‘Dead. Almost straight after you went.’

  ‘Let’s go inside.’

  Once in the kitchen, he sat on the sofa and pulled her down onto his knee and held her close. ‘I won’t say sorry. She’d lived to a good age and…’

  ‘I know what you mean. I just wish Aunt Gertie could have forgiven her. You’ll tell Mrs Black?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I don’t know when the funeral will be yet but you’ll come, won’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘Mrs Black is bound to want to come, too. I don’t know about your aunt. We dropped her off in Lime Street.’

  Clara’s face hardened. ‘You didn’t tell her where I worked, did you?’

  ‘No.’ He kissed the side of her face. ‘She asked but one look from Mrs Black was enough for me to keep my mouth shut. You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife. She only said two things to your aunt.’

  ‘What were they?’

  ‘That you had to travel to get there and that one day she would seek forgiveness and remember this day.’ He grimaced. ‘I tell you, it sounded really ominous.’

  ‘What did my aunt say?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Clara looked into his eyes. ‘I suppose you couldn’t see her expression?’ He shook his dark head and kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘Well, I hope she’s regretting her hardheartedness.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bank on it,’ he said. ‘Now, before I kiss you properly, do you want me to get word to Seb about what’s happened?’

  ‘Please. I’ll let you know when the funeral is tomorrow. You’ll still be at Mrs Black’s in the next week or so?’

  ‘As far as I know.’ He drew her close and kissed her several times. She was aware of a rising passion between them but he went no further than canoodling. She nestled in his arms, aware that a long courtship might prove too much for their self control. One thing was for sure, her grandmother’s death signalled change in the coming months.

  * * *

  A couple of days before the funeral, on the 3rd of June, Liverpool welcomed the King’s Regulars home. They had fought at Mons and Ypres, and Clara stood in the crowd as the soldiers made their way to the town hall for a reception and wept for her father and all the young men who had died as she had not done for her gran.

  On the day of the funeral she was dry-eyed. She had sent word to Freddie and Mrs Black concerning its date and not heard back from them but she trusted in their coming.

  There were few people in church because Bernie O’Toole had not been a popular woman. Mary was working but the people who mattered where there. She was delighted to see Freddie, Seb, Mrs Black and, surprisingly, Robbie Bennett. She smiled at them as she followed the coffin, a lone slender figure in black. But when she sat in a front pew, she was soon joined by Freddie and Seb. She felt strangely detached from the proceedings, yet wanted it to be over as soon as possible. She was extremely conscious of Freddie sitting on one side of her and Seb on the other. Even so, it was a relief when the service was over and they came out to discover that the clouds had rolled away and the sun was shining. There was still the burial to face but she did not expect them to go with her, so she offered her hand to Seb and thanked him for coming.

  He took her hand in both of his and said seriously, ‘I felt I had to come. After all, you’re family.’

  His words touched her. ‘It means a lot to me.’ Her voice was husky as she gazed into his battle scarred face; he was wearing his silver eye patch. ‘How is your arm?’

  ‘I’ve been seeing a physiotherapist in Rodney Street and I’ll be visiting him this afternoon.’ He smiled and flexed his arm gingerly. ‘I’ve still some way to go but it’s improving. I’ve told James I’ll take him fishing soon.’

  ‘I’m so glad. How are Alice and the children?’

  ‘You’ll have to come and see for yourself soon.’ He hesitated. ‘I never thanked you for your part in saving Flora. I thank you now.’

  Clara smiled. ‘She’s family.’ She hesitated to ask about his mother but he seemed to read her mind. ‘Ma’s not here, I see. I did telephone the Stork Hotel, where she was staying, and left a message.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Gran said what she needed to say to her. It’s just a little sad that your mother couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive. I feel angry with her, but I hope it’ll pass.’ She hesitated. ‘There’s someone I’d like you to meet. You probably noticed the handsome, white-haired gentleman who was in church. He’s talking to Mrs Black now.’

  Seb nodded. ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Robbie Bennett.’

  Seb’s face lit up with interest. Clara linked her arm through his and hurried him over to Robbie and Mrs Black. ‘Excuse me, you two, but I’d like to introduce my cousin, Sebastian Bennett, to you Mr Bennett,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye.

  Robbie’s face brightened. He held out a hand to Seb. ‘I’m delighted to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise,’ said Seb, smiling. ‘You won’t know it but for years I believed you were my father.’

  ‘I wish I was,’ said Robbie sincerely. ‘I’d have liked a son but I never remarried.’

  Clara winked at Mrs Black and was about to draw her to one side and thank her for coming when someone tapped Clara on the arm. ‘Time for us to go, Miss O’Toole.’ It was the undertaker.

  Seb, Eudora and Robbie all kissed her. ‘I’ll leave you, Freddie, dear,’ said Mrs Black.

  ‘But how will you get into town?’ asked Clara.

  The older woman’s eyes sparkled. ‘Robbie and I are old friends and he can drive an automobile, so he’s running me there. Freddie can join me later.’

  Clara thanked the three of them for coming, wondering what Gabrielle would think if she knew that the man she was seeking had been at her mother’s funeral. When she and Freddie were seated side by side in the carriage, he asked her why she was smiling, Clara told him.

  ‘The joke’s rather on her, isn’t it?’ said Freddie, slipping his arm round her. ‘It would be even more so if she knew that he and Mrs Black had gone off together.’

  ‘But it’s not what I wanted for my aunt. I felt sorry for the young Gertie who ran away from home. I admired her for her courage and talent for going on the stage. I wanted us to have a proper aunt-niece relationship. Part of me still wants that for both of us. After all, who has she got to love her if she cuts herself off from the family and Mr Bennett decides that he wants to have nothing to do with her?’ asked Clara sadly.

  Freddie had no answer but thought his Clara was perhaps too soft-hearted for her own good. Yet he would not have her any different. He remembered her views on forgiveness and his face hardened as he thought of his brother. He was another who had cut himself off from his family and Freddie hoped he would stay away. But he would not be able to relax and think of a future with Clara until his brother was behind bars once more.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was the following Sat
urday evening and Clara was busy taking money and issuing tickets for the first evening showing. Her wrists were aching but there weren’t many left in the queue now and soon she would be able to relax. Tomorrow she would be seeing Freddie, who was coming over to take her out.

  ‘One in the front stalls,’ said the woman the other side of the pay box window, shoving a florin through the opening at the bottom.

  ‘Sorry, madam, there’s no more seats in the front stalls. We’ve a couple in the rear stalls,’ said Clara.

  The woman clicked her tongue in exasperation. ‘I suppose that will have to do. I am right in thinking that the Palladium Orchestra will be playing a medley of popular music tonight, as well?’

  There was something about the woman’s voice that caused Clara to look at her more closely and her heart did a peculiar little jump. She might have only seen her aunt once but she recognised her and her black hat with the red ostrich feather. Hell! What was she going to do? The last thing she wanted was a scene between Gabrielle and Robbie Bennett, who had expressed disgust at his former wife’s behaviour towards her mother.

  ‘Hmmm! I’m sorry. My mistake, there are no seats left in the stalls, madam,’ she said.

  Gabrielle frowned and then brought her face closer to the glass. ‘I know you. It is you, isn’t it?’

  ‘If you mean, am I your niece? Then yes, I am,’ replied Clara, her eyes smouldering. ‘Not that I’m proud of it. Gran died after you left, you know.’

  Gabrieile said sharply, ‘She’s no loss. Is that why you’ve decided not to let me in, because you blame me? You’ve got no right. This is a public place and you can’t stop me coming inside.’

  Clara tilted her chin. ‘I’ve no intention of preventing you from seeing the film, but if you’re going to make a scene I can call the doorman. There are a few seats left in the balcony. You can have one of them if you wish. It’ll cost you sixpence, madam.’

  ‘It’s not what I wanted. Isn’t there a box?’

  ‘No, madam.’

  ‘Will you hurry up and make up your bloody mind, missus,’ said a man’s voice behind Gabrielle. ‘We’re going to miss the music.’