by June Francis
‘You’re right, but we won’t be able to spend the same amount of time like we have, just the two of us having fun,’ he said seriously.
‘No,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to try and make time, but I don’t suppose it’ll be easy.’
‘We’ll have more demands on us.’
‘Yes, I realised that a while ago – it’s why I gave in my notice at the dentist’s,’ she said. ‘I’d be no use to you, Dad and Simon, and even Fergie, if I were exhausted all the time.’
* * *
When they arrived in Liverpool, they headed for Elliot Street and St John’s Market to buy special ingredients for their first meal at home with Simon and Norman. Inside it felt colder than outside, so they quickly bought vegetables, fresh bread and cream buns, bananas and a couple of large ‘Jaffas’ to share. Then they caught the tram to West Derby Road and got off by Saxon Street where Ben’s house was situated. Grace felt strange not returning to her dad’s, but Norman had moved into Ben’s while they had been in Southport.
Ben took his door key from his pocket and opened the front door. Then he placed suitcases on the step and lifted the surprised and giggling Grace off her feet and carried her over the threshold with the shopping bags swinging from her arms. They almost hit Ben in the face as she linked her hands behind his neck.
‘Ye daft ha’porth,’ she said, a choke in her voice. Then she heard Fergie barking. The kitchen door opened, and the dog squeezed through the gap past Simon.
‘You’re home,’ he shouted, then added over his shoulder. ‘Granddad, they’re home!’
Without waiting for a response from Norman, the boy rushed down the lobby and flung himself at Ben and Grace. Unfortunately, Grace chose that moment to unclasp her hands and Ben felt her slipping from his grasp. The next second the three of them ended in a heap on the floor, almost squashing Fergie to death. The dog managed to worm his way out from under and immediately sought out Grace and began to lick her face. Ben seized Fergie and handed him to Norman who had arrived on the scene, just in time to prevent the dog from dragging out a package from one of the shopping bags. Norman then helped Simon to his feet with his free hand, while Ben hoisted his wife upright.
‘Well, that was some welcome home,’ said Grace, seizing both shopping bags and leading the way to the kitchen, pausing only to plant a kiss on her father’s cheek before entering the kitchen. A fire glowed red in the black-leaded range and a table covered with her best tablecloth and set with cutlery and plates for four, was another welcome sight. For a moment she could only wonder if they had cooked dinner for them, but she could not smell anything on the hob.
Then her father said, ‘I hope there’s dinner in those shopping bags, lass.’
‘Of course,’ she replied, shrugging off her coat and removing her scarf and gloves before unpacking the shopping.
* * *
The meal was devoured in no time despite the four of them talking almost non-stop as they shared their news. Afterwards, Simon volunteered to do the dishes while Grace and Ben went upstairs to unpack; Norman relaxed in front of the fire with Southport’s local paper. The layout of the house was pretty well much the same as the house her father had rented in the next street, although it was on the other side of the street, and of course, Grace would no longer be sleeping in the middle bedroom that overlooked a backyard, but in the larger front bedroom that gazed over the street. She had expected the bedroom to be very much a man’s bedroom, but as it was there was a floral eiderdown on the double bed, and the pillows were covered with frilled pillowcases. There were two doors in the alcoves each side of the bedhead.
‘You’ve blocked in the little fireplace,’ she said.
‘Well spotted,’ said Ben, placing the suitcases on the bed. ‘I had no need of it, and besides, I couldn’t afford coal for two fires.’
There was a dressing table in the bay window space in front of which there was a chair. On the dressing table was a cut-glass trinket bowl and two candlestick holders with white candles. There was also a washstand with a bowl and a pitcher underneath and on the rails either side of the stand were towels. There was a gas lamp on a bracket attached to the wall opposite the bed, as well as two pictures, one of a seascape and another of a path running through a wood.
‘Did you make the washstand?’
He nodded. ‘And the dressing table and the two built-in cupboards.’
‘You are clever,’ she murmured, going over to have a closer look of the pictures. ‘Did you paint these?’
‘No, my dad did.’
She whirled round. ‘He was talented.’
‘Yeah, my brother Martin was, too.’ He opened a cupboard and took out a couple of carved animals. ‘He carved these for me when I was just a kid.’
She peered closer at the paintings before taking the wooden animals from him. ‘These are so realistic, just like the paintings. I feel like I could walk into those woods and swim in that sea.’
‘Dad went to Liverpool Art School. They thought he could have won a scholarship to the Royal Academy in London,’ said Ben quickly. ‘But he wouldn’t have gone, his parents couldn’t afford it, and besides, it takes some doing making a living in the arts. Now, let’s drop the subject.’
Grace stared at his closed-off face, she went wordlessly over to the bed and opened her suitcase and started removing clothing. She wanted to ask which cupboard and drawers she should take, but Ben’s expression was still off-putting, so she tried a door and found its interior was empty but for several items on a top shelf, under which was a rail to hang coats, dresses and the like.
She removed a coat hanger and hung up a dress, then a skirt and a blouse and cardigan. Her nightdress she placed under the pillow on the same side of the bed she had slept on their honeymoon. She then thought of the clothes she had not taken on honeymoon and wondered where her father had put them, as she would need to sort and unpack them as well. She doubted they were still in the other house. Perhaps Ben would know. She glanced in his direction and their eyes met and she realised he must have been watching her every movement.
‘Do you know where the rest of my clothes are?’ she asked.
His expression relaxed. ‘Probably in the Gladstone bag in the parlour,’ he said. ‘Shall I go and fetch it for you?’
She smiled. ‘Yes, please.’
Then she glanced about her. ‘This is a nice room.’
‘The sun will wake you up mornings.’ He paused. ‘I’m glad you like the room. I wasn’t sure the wallpaper would be to your taste or if you’d prefer something fancier.’
Grace had not noticed the wallpaper, but now she took a proper look at it. Pale orange with a silvery white pattern on that was not small or fussy and didn’t it hit you in the face. It was a good background for the pictures. She checked the curtains, which were patterned in geometrical shapes of brown, beige, and cream, and decided she didn’t like them with the wallpaper. She thought the curtains from the old house would match better, but she would not say anything now, perhaps she could change them next week and see if Ben noticed. As for the floor that was covered in linoleum in a pattern that looked like wood grain. There was a rag rug either side of the bed in a mixture of fabrics and colours. They appeared well-worn and she wondered if Ben’s first wife had made them.
As if he could read her mind, he said, ‘Me mam made them for me.’
‘It must have taken her a while,’ said Grace.
‘We’d knock on the back doors of posh houses asking for any old rags they could spare. So, what do you think? I know the rugs don’t go with the décor.’
She reached out and took his hand. ‘I was thinking of making two new ones… but now knowing they are precious to you, I suggest we wash them in a tub once spring arrives. And while we wait, I could crochet a fringe with orange wool on both, so they match each other and the wallpaper.’
‘You can crochet!’
‘Of course, you silly man! I wouldn’t have suggested it if I couldn’t.’
‘Who are you calling silly?’ he teased. ‘I married you, didn’t I? I reckon that was clever of me.’ He pulled her close and hugged her. ‘Who taught you to crochet? Your aunt?’
‘No, I’ve only learnt since Dad’s been home more often. He used to crochet and knit when he was away on long trips. Apparently, he found it soothing, so I asked him to teach me. I could already knit.’
Ben said, ‘Perhaps you could teach me, and we could do a rug each and maybe Norman would help too.’
She freed herself from his grasp and knelt on the linoleum to inspect the edge of one of the rugs. Her opinion of Ben was now even higher – some men would have bridled against assisting in such a task – Dougie, for instance. She thanked God that he was hundreds of miles away and for her lucky escape. She prayed that he would meet someone who would suit him better.
Chapter 16
As Grace went about her household tasks during the days after her return from Southport, she sang as she swept and washed floors, and polished the furniture, thinking how the four of them had settled down so well together. Only occasionally did she wish herself and Ben back in Southport, just the two of them together. Then she told herself how fortunate she was in having a good home and husband, and her father looking so much better, content in Ben and Simon’s company, and in seeing his daughter settled.
A few days later Grace woke early. She left Ben fast asleep and stealthily slid out of bed and went downstairs and set and lit the fire, put the kettle on and made Ben’s carry-out of corned beef and Branston pickle butties and then mixed some tea leaves with condensed milk and wrapped it in greaseproof paper. Then she placed the lot in his knapsack along with a tin mug. She had just brewed a pot of tea when she heard footsteps on the stairs. A minute or two later Ben entered the kitchen. His thatch of hair was an untidy mess and he needed a shave.
‘What are you doing up so early?’ he asked. ‘It’s not even light yet.’
‘I woke early, and you were fast asleep, so I thought I’d get a start on the day and have a fire ready for you and do your carry-out.’
‘That was good of you,’ he said, warming his hands by the fire. ‘But didn’t you think I’d have liked a cuddle?’
‘You fell asleep straight away last night, so I really thought you needed your sleep,’ she said, offering him a cup of tea.
He took the cup and placed it on the mantelshelf and drew her towards him, slipping his warm hands up the back of her jumper and beneath her camisole, then he bent his head and kissed her.
The feel of his warm hands on her bare skin was delightful and she responded to his kiss with enthusiasm, then a voice said, ‘Morning, can I have a cup of tea and a warm by the fire, please?’ A startled Grace almost jumped out of her skin, and Ben withdrew his hands quickly, but still holding his wife, he manoeuvred her away from the fireplace.
‘You’re up early, son,’ said Ben, reaching out for a cup of tea.
‘I wouldn’t have been if you’d let me stay up later,’ grumbled Simon. ‘Granddad suggested me and him going into town and visiting the museum, then having something to eat out before going to the flicks.’
‘That sounds like a fun-packed day.’ Grace moved over to the table and poured tea into a cup and indicated that the boy add milk and sugar. She was still struggling against an urge to giggle, so left the room and went into the back kitchen where Fergie was standing by his feeding bowl. She decided once she had the house to herself, she would do the housework before taking Fergie for a walk and then do some shopping. She knew that she should go and visit her aunt, but she was just not in the mood, knowing that she would be bombarded with questions that she did not wish to answer, aware that what she said might be reported to Dougie.
Later on that day, Grace was taking Fergie for a walk before she tackled the day’s shopping, when she met Milly pushing the pram with the twins propped up either end, taking in the world around them.
‘Gosh, they’re all there, aren’t they?’ said Grace.
‘Yes,’ said Milly proudly. ‘Jimmy’s mother is so made up with them and now the weather has turned unseasonably mild, she’s suggesting we take them over to see her in New Brighton, so she can show them off to her friends over there.’
‘It would be a nice break for you, and you could take the pram if you go by train or ferry,’ said Grace. ‘You’ll have to walk into town, of course.’
‘We’ll definitely do that,’ said Milly. ‘We could even go on the beach if the weather continues mild. When you think it snowed in November and now it’s like early spring!’
‘Simon was hoping it would snow for Christmas,’ Grace said. ‘I think he’s going to be disappointed, though.’
Milly said, ‘How was Southport?’
‘Good, the food in the hotel was really tasty, and we had a nice bedroom.’
‘All went well, then?’
‘Mmmm… we both read part of the books you lent me.’ She paused. ‘My eyes have been opened I can tell you!’
‘Ben didn’t take against them?’
‘Not when I told him that you and Jimmy had read them,’ Grace smiled.
‘I wonder if he’ll mention doing so to Jimmy,’ said Milly thoughtfully.
‘Would he tell you if Ben did?’ asked Grace, feeling a tug on the leash as Fergie began to get impatient.
‘I’m not sure. Men aren’t like us women, are they? Men talk is exactly that – for men only.’
Grace did not deny it, but said that she had better be on her way as Fergie was getting restless, so they parted, with Grace agreeing to pop round later once she had run her errands. She went to the park first, and then she went to buy wool and crochet hooks and meat for their evening meal.
She was just returning from the shops when she heard her name being called. She looked about her and caught sight of her cousin Marion, and groaned. She was one of the last people she wanted to see and wished her to the other side of the world; she was bound to ask how her honeymoon had been and whatever Grace said was bound to be repeated to Dougie. Grace remembered it had been Marion who had seen Grace out with Syd all those years ago and believed it was her who had told Dougie.
‘What are you doing here?’ Grace asked.
‘That’s a nice welcome that is,’ said Marion.
‘Well, it’s not often you show your face round here,’ retorted Grace. ‘Are your mam and dad all right?’
‘They’re fine,’ Marion said, as she flicked a strand of dark hair away from her left eye. ‘I’m just wondering if you got to see the wedding telegram our Dougie sent you?’
‘What telegram?’ asked Grace with a sinking heart. ‘Are you trying to cause trouble like you have in the past?’
Marion punched her on the shoulder, quite hard. ‘Why should you think that?’
Fergie growled and would have gone for Marion if Grace had not pulled him back.
‘Don’t you hit me,’ said Grace, rubbing her shoulder. ‘I’m not a little girl that you can boss around anymore. If there had been a telegram from Dougie the best man would have mentioned it.’
‘Not if he thought it would upset his friend,’ chortled Marion.
Anger flashed in Grace’s hazel eyes. ‘I take it you read it, then.’
Marion sneered, ‘Of course. Dougie sent it to me first and then I put it in with the other messages to be read out. You should be ashamed of yourself, Miss So-called Innocent.’
‘What are you talking about? I’ve had enough of this,’ said Grace, turning on her heel and walking away, pulling on Fergie’s leash.
Marion shouted, ‘I remember word for word what it said, and I’ll write it down and send it to Ben. You’ll just have to hope you’ll get to it first.’
Grace halted and said, ‘Why do you hate me so much?’
‘I don’t hate you. I’ve heard it said that one needs to have loved first to hate and I’ve never cared for you. From the moment you came to stay in our house I loathed you. Always going around and taking all our mam’s attention, just b
ecause your mother died.’
‘You’d have wanted attention if your mother had died when you were my age and had no brothers and sisters. I never did you any harm,’ said Grace.
‘You wouldn’t understand, poor little motherless girl,’ taunted Marion. ‘When our Beryl was born, she got the attention Mam had given me – even Dad was made up when I was born, having a daughter after a son. Then Beryl arrived on the scene and babies always get spoilt. I was just the piggy in the middle. Happily, Dougie resented her as much as I did, as he’d had his nose pushed out of joint when I was born, so he and I joined forces when Beryl was old enough for us to lord it over. The last thing we wanted was another kid getting all the attention, as well as joining forces with Beryl.’
‘You’re sick in the head,’ Grace muttered.
‘What did you say?’ asked Marion, bringing her face up close to Grace’s. She drew back and hurried off to Milly’s and did not wait to be asked inside but stepped straight over the threshold, dragging Fergie with her. Once inside she rested against the lobby wall and took deep breaths.
Milly stared at her. ‘What’s wrong? Is it your dad?’
Grace shook her head and signalled to her friend to wait until you got her breath back.
Milly took her by the arm and helped her into a seat in the kitchen. ‘Now take your time and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
‘Thanks,’ Grace managed to say before leaning back in the chair, a hand gripping Fergie’s collar. He was sitting at her feet, staring at the twins propped up with cushions in a playpen, each holding a fluffy toy, one a teddy and the other a small white dog. There were other toys nearby and one of the twins was bouncing in a way that caused her to move a little towards a counting toy. A low growl rumbled in the dog’s throat causing Grace to rebuke him, even as she lifted him onto her lap and held him tight. When Milly entered the room carrying a tray, Grace asked whether she should put Fergie in the backyard.
‘If you think he’ll be all right there,’ said Milly.