The Ballroom on Magnolia Street

by Sharon Owens

  ‘I am getting engaged, Shirley, because I am the proper age to do so.’

  ‘Bully for you! Have you set the date? Because we have. Engaged means nothing if you haven’t set the date.’ Shirley blew her nose on a paper napkin and sighed deeply. The last thing she wanted, when she was feeling so vulnerable, was a row with her sister. But Kate could be very irritating when she wanted to be.

  ‘Calm down, Shirley,’ said Declan. ‘Think of the baby. You mustn’t get upset.’ And he hugged her again. He looked crossly at Kate.

  Kate was almost hysterical with indignation and alcohol, but she could smell defeat. An engagement ring was little more than a pretty lump of glass unless the wedding venue and reception had actually been booked. It was just a sad attempt to put a thin veneer of respectability on sex before marriage. Only a completely gullible female would trade the comforts of her young body for a cheap engagement ring from the local jeweller’s. (That was the opinion of the older generation, anyway.) Kate looked at Kevin with panic in her eyes.

  ‘When are we getting married?’ she gasped at him.

  ‘Whenever you like, Kate,’ said Kevin, very quickly.

  ‘Well, now, as Shirley said, we’re getting married in the spring. And I’ll do everything I can to make Shirley happy,’ said Declan, trying to diffuse the situation.

  ‘I think you’ve done enough,’ muttered Mrs Winters. ‘And by the way, what’s the rush with you two? Is this one preggers and all?’ She poked Kate in the arm with a serving spoon that still had some cream on it.

  ‘I am not preggers! How dare you?’ shouted Kate. ‘You’re getting cream on my best dress. Honestly! I’m not clueless enough to get myself up the duff to a mere schoolboy. Of all the insulting things to say to me on the day I announce my engagement! You see, Kevin? I told you they were all mad.’

  ‘Well, it’s a miracle you never did have a baby before now,’ cried Shirley. ‘You needn’t think you’re getting away with playing the innocent virgin. Don’t you dare look at me like that. And I’m not up the duff to a schoolboy. I’m in love with Declan, he’s my first and only lover, and we’re getting married. And yes, we went to bed together, and I’m not ashamed of it. It was lovely, if you must know! So there!’

  Declan blushed furiously and Kevin winked at him and nodded his head to a job well done.

  ‘Don’t you bloody well lower yourself with talk like that on a holy day,’ cried Mrs Winters. ‘We don’t require that level of information, thank you very much! What is the priest going to say about this?’

  ‘Oh, God! Stop the clock! I wondered when the poor priest would be dragged into this. Won’t he be made up, there’s another little Christian baby in the world? The birth rate is collapsing in the West, don’t you know? Anyway, I only did what was natural and normal. I didn’t start a war! You wanted a grandchild! Didn’t you? Well?’

  ‘Oh, my poor heart! Lord God, I have failed thee!’ Mrs Winters blessed herself three times.

  Declan wished he could beam himself and Shirley out of the room altogether, like they did on Star Trek. He decided to give the discussion five more minutes, and then he was going to take Shirley home to his place. His mother had told him he could do that, if things got too heated.

  ‘Well, what can I do about it now, Mum?’ said Shirley, calming down a little. ‘We’re trying to make the best of things. Please be reasonable.’

  ‘I’ll have to ask Father Damien’s advice,’ sniffed Mrs Winters.

  ‘Ask him why there are no women priests, while you’re at it,’ Shirley muttered. ‘Second-class Christians, we women. Obviously, with our hormones all over the place, we aren’t capable of saying Mass without bursting into tears.’ And then she ruined her great speech by bursting into tears again.

  ‘Oh, yes, always the clever madam! Always knowing better than the rest,’ said her mother, bitterly. ‘If you’re so clever, why are you in this mess? Tell me that!’

  ‘Right! That’s enough! Shirley, pet, can you get your coat and some night-things. I’m taking you out of this house tonight.’ Declan stood up and set his napkin down on the table.

  ‘Where to?’ Shirley was confused now, and very tired.

  ‘You can stay with us until we get a place of our own,’ he told her. ‘There is just no need for all this fuss. I’m sorry, Mrs Winters, but there isn’t. Shirley’s carrying a child, for God’s sake. Don’t shout at her.’

  ‘Sit down, would you?’ said Mrs Winters, quietly. ‘What did you expect me to say? You know what they’re like round here. They love a bit of scandal. We’ll be the talk of the street.’

  ‘It’s not a scandal, Mrs Winters. We’re getting married. Anyway, it’s Shirley you should care about. Not the neighbours. If you don’t mind me saying so. Why can’t you support her, like my parents are doing?’ He thought of how reasonable they’d been when he told them the news last night. Marion had just hugged him and said she would do everything she could think of to help, and Eddy said he was glad Declan was doing the responsible thing by his girlfriend. They told him not to worry; to enjoy Christmas, and then in January they would start to make plans for the wedding.

  Mrs Winters wasn’t used to being spoken to so directly. These middle-class types were very forward, she decided. Well, Shirley would fit right in with people like the Greenwoods if this was their shocking attitude to morality.

  ‘Is this true, Declan Greenwood?’ she asked him, after a minute’s silence. ‘Are you going to make an honest woman out of our Shirley? What age are you anyway? You’re only a cub yourself.’

  ‘Please don’t worry, Mrs Winters. I’m twenty. My parents are already helping with the plans. My mother, Marion, said that she would take care of everything. Weddings are her speciality. You won’t have to worry about a thing.’

  Mrs Winters mentally cancelled her own plans to emigrate. Maybe this wasn’t the fiasco it had looked a moment ago. If his parents were helping with the arrangements, there was more chance he’d go through with it.

  ‘Why’s a young lad like yourself so eager to venture up the aisle?’ asked Kate, now more composed, and ever curious to the workings of the male mind. ‘You’re only a pup, like me ma said.’

  ‘My own parents are very happily married. I’d love to have a marriage like theirs,’ Declan said, quietly. ‘I did plan to get married some day. To be as happy as they are.’

  ‘How do you know it will be happy?’ asked Kate, and Shirley wanted to punch her sister in the face. Hard. ‘How do you know it will work out?’ she persisted.

  ‘I just do,’ said Declan. ‘We’ll make it work. We’re both reasonable people.’

  There was another silence. Whatever Kate and her parents claimed to be, it was not reasonable. Suddenly, there was a loud burp, and they all turned to Kevin, whose face was a picture of relief.

  ‘Better out than in,’ he gasped. ‘Sorry about that, everyone. Are we really getting married, Kate?’ Kevin was still in shock.

  Kate sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘Yes. We are. Definitely.’

  He punched the air with delight.

  ‘Will you fetch my husband in here, Kevin, please, or we’ll be going to a friggin’ funeral, not a wedding.’ Mrs Winters had started to weep with relief. The Christmas napkins were working overtime, mopping up all the tears.

  ‘Two weddings,’ said Kate smugly, as Kevin bolted out of the door.

  ‘Sweet Jesus and His Holy Mother,’ sobbed Mrs Winters. ‘What a Christmas this is turning out to be. If your father thought he was robbed for a box of crackers, what’s he going to say when he has to cough up for the nuptials of you two eejits? I’m going upstairs to lie down. Tape the soaps for me, Shirley, would you? Hilda Ogden’s leaving Coronation Street.’ She left the room muttering another prayer to herself. Shirley was relieved. Her parents hadn’t coped too badly, after all.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ said Kate, looking from Shirley to Declan and back again. ‘Talk about dark horses.’

  ‘Dark horses, yourself. I didn’t
know you were even dating Kevin.’

  ‘There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,’ said Kate, mysteriously.

  ‘No, there isn’t. You stupid twit! I even know what you owe. Eight thousand pounds, would you believe, Declan?’

  ‘You nosy cow!’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t leave your statements on the bathroom floor.’ Shirley yawned. She was so tired, she wanted to lay her head on the table and sleep on the remains of the dinner.

  ‘How dare you interfere in my private affairs,’ scolded Kate. ‘And by the way, I’m the eldest, so Daddy will be funding my wedding as a priority. So don’t be getting any fancy ideas for your wedding.’

  ‘Get real, Kate. What do you mean, the eldest? It’s not the eighteenth century, you know. It’s first come, first served, nowadays.’

  ‘You’re wrong. I am the eldest, and therefore entitled to the biggest wedding.’

  ‘Look! Brain donor! It’ll be turkey and ham for forty at the very most, no frills whatsoever. And you can buy your own dress in Smithfield market, second-hand. Dad’s a cleaner, for God’s sake. What’s he going to do? Rob a bank?’

  ‘Actually, Mum and Dad said they’d be happy to host our reception at their restaurant at their expense. And provide your wedding dress too, Shirley. Mum has hundreds of them in her store.’

  ‘Declan!’ Shirley was in raptures. ‘Oh, that’s lovely of her! Tell her I’m really delighted. Not that I’ll take something very expensive. I definitely won’t.’

  Kate’s jelly legs returned with a vengeance, at the very idea of Shirley showing off in a fancy gown from Mrs Greenwood’s bridal boutique. The world had changed too much, too quickly.

  ‘I was going to tell your parents not to worry about all the expense, but they left the table too soon,’ said Declan.

  Just then, Mr Winters and Kevin returned from the garden. Mr Winters was shivering violently.

  ‘Daddy, Declan just said his family are going to pay for Shirley’s wedding.’

  ‘Well, isn’t that the best news I’ve had in a long time? Cheers, Declan.’ Some colour returned to the older man’s face. He removed his yellow hat and sat down again.

  ‘So,’ continued Kate. ‘That means there’s more money in the kitty for my big day. Daddy dear, brace yourself! Kevin and myself are also getting hitched.’

  Silence descended upon the room. Everyone froze. Only the candles in their red-glass holders flickered and wavered in the draught. Mr Winters was bug-eyed from whiskey and shock. They all stared at him, praying his heart would be able to take the strain.

  ‘If I’d known there was two weddings coming up, I wouldn’t have bought them blasted crackers,’ he said, eventually. ‘Twenty pounds would have paid for six plates of egg mayonnaise.’

  ‘Oh, Daddy!’ Kate was in agony, knowing that Shirley was correct about the money situation. Her poor father would drop dead if he knew the list of things Kate wanted to buy. The best champagne, enormous bouquets of hothouse roses and trailing ivy, a silver Rolls-Royce to the church. It just wasn’t going to happen. Not if her father was paying. And how could she fund a fairytale day on her own, with eight thousand pounds of personal debt already? And half that amount again, she owed to the bank. She bit her lip.

  Mr Winters noticed that his wife was not sitting at the table.

  ‘Where’s your mother?’ he said quietly.

  ‘Upstairs. Lying down. But Daddy…’

  ‘I think I’ll just go and join her,’ he said, shuffling out to the hall.

  The two couples listened to the stairs creaking beneath his slow ascent. Kate glared at Shirley. Her father hadn’t formally agreed to pay for her big day, and she was in debt to her ears. She couldn’t pay for it herself. She’d have to save up. She didn’t want to wait for five years until she had savings of her own. She wanted to set the date right away, preferably before Shirley’s shotgun marriage took place. She wondered what to call a wedding that was quicker than a shotgun wedding. A rocket wedding? She wanted a rocket wedding. The two of them could fly to Las Vegas and get married at the weekend in the Little White Chapel. Anything that would prevent Shirley from tying the knot first.

  ‘Well, that was a lovely meal,’ said Kevin, brightly. ‘Will we wash the dishes, Kate?’ He lifted a few plates and began collecting napkins. ‘Lovely mince pies.’

  ‘Leave the dishes, Kevin; let’s go out for a walk. It’s far too warm in here. I’ll get our coats.’ She hobbled out to the hall, holding on to the backs of chairs. The others hardly noticed her distress. They were all caught up in their own thoughts.

  Kevin decided he would ask Kate to move in with him. He had a three-bedroom house in Finaghy all to himself and although it was neat and tidy, it was not a cosy home. It needed a woman’s touch.

  Declan was working out sums in his head, wondering if he could afford to rent a flat on the outskirts of the city. Well away from this claustrophobic little street. Shirley would never cope with her pregnancy in such a hysterical household. She needed plenty of peace and rest.

  ‘Kevin!’ Kate summoned her boyfriend, like he was a dog. ‘I’m ready!’

  ‘Fair enough.’ He pushed a couple of dishes along the table, to show that he was willing to tidy up but that there was no time, and followed Kate out to the hall. He smiled at the other couple on the way past. ‘Congratulations again, Declan and Shirley. I wonder which of us will be married first.’

  ‘I wonder,’ said Shirley, knowing full well that Kate was prepared to marry a homeless drunk off the street rather than let her sister have her big day first. She might have known that something like this would happen.

  When the front door closed, Declan hugged Shirley tightly and told her not to worry any more.

  ‘She’s a spiteful cow, Declan. She never said congratulations to me. Not once. She’s just raging that I beat her to it. And Mum and Dad are going to be totally useless. It’s hysteria or depression with them, and nothing in between. I told you it would be like this.’

  ‘I know it’s hard work, love. But it won’t be for much longer. I’ll rent a flat right away. I promise. Soon we’ll have a cosy little place of our own, where no one can bother us, and we’ll have lovely nights just curled up together in bed, listening to music, and making our plans for the future.’

  ‘I hope so. I hope so.’ Shirley went into the kitchen to make tea. On the way she bumped into the stereo, and the record that Mrs Winters had threatened to burn dropped onto the turntable and crackled into life.

  ‘I love that song,’ said Declan. ‘Come on and we’ll dance!’

  ‘There’s not enough room.’

  ‘Then we’ll stand very close together. Come here.’ He put his arms round her, and they swayed gently in each other’s arms beside the brightly coloured debris on the dining table. ‘I love this time of the day when things are winding down and the place looks lived in.’

  ‘I love you. You’re too good to be true. I’m so lucky.’

  ‘I am not, Mrs Greenwood-to-be. I’m the lucky one. And by the way, I love you, too.’

  Then, the ugly man with no teeth sang the most beautiful love song of the decade and Shirley felt utterly at peace. Kate and her parents could rant and rave and moan and complain all they liked about the new baby. But they couldn’t touch it or take it away from her. Shirley finally had something that was hers and hers alone. Well, hers and Declan’s. Kate might move heaven and earth to make her wedding more spectacular than Shirley’s, but she was surely not prepared to have a baby as well, was she? Shirley didn’t think so. She smiled a huge smile. She was completely happy.

  January arrived, and the Winters’ home was a flurry of excitement. Mrs Winters had finally emerged from her holy statue-laden boudoir and was on a manic high. She had prayed non-stop for days and had consulted with the priest and several relatives and friends, and everyone seemed to be okay about the baby. So, she was okay, too. She was on the phone constantly, telling everyone that both of her beautiful daughters were enga
ged to be married. Both of them! And what a total surprise, she gasped, a thousand times, at British Telecom peak rate. They were dating their young men for only a month or so before Cupid shot his arrow. She even told the young man from the department store about it, when she called in to return a skirt. He was fascinated. Well, she explained, it was a family tradition, that wedding proposals came quickly to the women.

  ‘I’m pregnant,’ Shirley casually told the girls at work, one morning over scrambled eggs and toast in the canteen.

  ‘Holy guacamole! Is it Declan’s?’ squeaked Amanda.

  ‘Of course it’s Declan’s,’ said Julie.

  ‘You know it’s Declan’s,’ said Shirley. Indignantly. ‘I’m not a prostitute in my spare time, you know.’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ cried the girls. ‘Oh. My. God.’

  ‘I know it’s a bit sudden, but there you are,’ said Shirley. ‘I’d be very grateful if you could all support me in this. I’m feeling a bit delicate.’ She looked at the faces of her stunned colleagues, and tried hard not to laugh.

  ‘Is this young pup going to marry you? That’s what I want to know’ Amanda had read too many hard-luck letters to think like an optimist any more.

  ‘Don’t be so old-fashioned,’ said Shirley, keeping them in suspense.

  ‘Is he, pet? We only want to know, so we can buy a present,’ soothed her friend. ‘We’re not making moral judgements.’

  ‘Yes, we are getting married. Sorry for teasing! In April. You’re all invited, of course. I may need one of you to be my bridesmaid, now I come to think of it. Kate is acting very strangely these days. She may be committed by April.’

  ‘She’ll get over it. What did your da say?’ Julie asked.

  ‘He keeps saying, “I’ll be in the front room, counting my life savings, if anyone wants me.”’

  ‘Aw, typical father!’ said Amanda. ‘They’re all the same.’

  Marion told Eddy to start house-hunting for the young couple. Somewhere far enough away from Derryvolgie Avenue, so that Declan could feel independent. But near enough for Marion and Eddy to pop in every day to help out a little bit when the baby came, if they were needed.