The Ballroom on Magnolia Street

by Sharon Owens

  He felt in his pocket for the statue, and was reassured to know it was still there. He wasn’t converted or anything like that, but he was intrigued. Was all religious faith just an ancient form of positive thinking, he wondered. And were the ancient monks in their beehive huts simply a bunch of peace-loving lads like himself; who made up the whole palaver about God, because they desperately wanted to get away from women and their endless chatter?

  They were interesting questions to ponder as he hung around the outskirts of Bundoran, waiting for something to happen. He was barely aware of the hours passing.

  He had been sleeping rough since his miraculous escape, slipping into Bundoran when it got dark, to buy fish suppers and bottles of milk. By now, the police in Belfast would be watching the hostel, the unemployment office, and the post office. What on earth was he going to do? He was nearly out of money.

  In his old life, he might have decided to bump off Timothy Tate. And Johnny Hogan too, for good measure. (The pair of them had brought him nothing but bad luck.) Go out on a blaze of glory. Back to jail for the rest of his days, his place in the criminal hall of fame assured. But he didn’t feel like that any more. Even Tate and Hogan were not worth a lifetime of prison stew. To his surprise, he decided he wanted a peaceful future. Some little luxuries would be nice, yes. A bottle of good whiskey now and then, sandalwood soap, comfortable shoes. But peace of mind was definitely his number-one priority now. He thought he might hitch a ride to Spain – give his wife a little surprise. Ask her for some cash to tide him over. A little favour, for her old man. No strings attached. Or maybe just make his way to South America and try to find work there. And so, his head full of half-baked plans, he pulled his by-now shabby jacket tightly around his shoulders and ordered a hamburger and chips, and a large pot of tea.

  24. Something New, Something Old, Something Blue, Something Gold

  April arrived in a series of blustery rain showers. Eileen Hogan was feeling fine, although James caught the flu and blamed it on all the stress he had suffered. Marion Greenwood decided to pull herself together for the sake of her family, and also because Declan and Shirley’s wedding could not be delayed another minute.

  Everyone was relieved when the original date was confirmed. There would be no postponement. The tumultuous concept of a double wedding finally began to sink in, and the girls’ mother wondered what she had done with all her free time before the big announcement. Relatives they hadn’t seen for years were calling in to visit, and they would often stay talking and reminiscing until midnight. Martha became something of a celebrity on the street. People would say, ‘There goes your woman with the two daughters getting wed,’ every time she went by their window. And the amount of shopping that had to be done was serious. Even though the Greenwoods were arranging the buffet reception and the wedding cake, Mrs Winters had to choose outfits for herself and her husband, flowers for the wedding party and the church, and dresses for the bridesmaids. The pile of gifts for Kate and Shirley had grown so large that they were afraid to leave the house unattended. Mr Winters was usually left behind to guard them while the women went shopping.

  Shirley had developed a craving for the scent of fabric conditioner, and spent a lot of time doing the laundry. She had a selection of bottles on the kitchen window sill, and she sniffed each one delicately before making her choice and pouring a capful into the drawer of the washing machine. She was also eating a lot of fresh fruit, since anything remotely only made her stomach heave in protest. Strawberries were her favourite, although they weren’t as filling as her mother’s pies and stews. She lost weight, and went to see her doctor about it, but she reassured her it would be okay. Declan took to bringing punnets of fruit and boxes of peppermint tea to the house when he came to visit. He was very polite to Shirley’s parents, but he was not allowed to see Shirley alone in her room. They had to sit downstairs in the lounge, while the rest of the family waited in the kitchen. Shirley thought it was very sweet.

  ‘The horse may have bolted already,’ said her father, ‘but there’s no call to get rid of the gate altogether.’ No one was quite sure what he meant by that but they said nothing because he was coping much better than they’d expected. ‘I told you, it’s the quiet ones,’ he said from time to time, tapping the side of his nose.

  Then Shirley was summoned to Romance And Ribbons for another attempt at choosing a gown. Marion was feeling much better by then, and was back behind the counter of her boutique, although she had installed a state-of-the-art security system in the building and customers now had to ring a doorbell to get in. Kate went along too, with orders from her father not to take advantage of Mrs Greenwood’s very generous offer of a bargain-price gown. Kate said nothing at the time. She didn’t think Romance And Ribbons would have anything grand enough for her. She was already getting quotes from three bridal-wear designers in England, and five hundred pounds would barely cover the deposit.

  Shirley was a little nervous when she arrived at the salon. Kate was with her, which was good, but she was still slightly worried when her big sister rang the doorbell. Shirley didn’t want Mrs Greenwood to think she was not worthy of her handsome son. She had no reason to feel that way but the notion was making it hard for her to choose a dress. And now, her bump was starting to show, which left simple silhouettes out of the running altogether. A puffball of a skirt, it would have to be. And Shirley hated fussy clothes. The whole world knew she was pregnant, but she didn’t want to look pregnant on her wedding day. Not that she was ashamed of the baby, or anything. She was actually getting used to the idea of having a child, and she talked to her bump when she lay in bed each night. It was like having a little friend with you all the time, so that you never felt alone. She hoped the baby was a girl, so that they would have lots of things in common, as the child grew up. She also hoped that if the baby was a boy, he would grow up to be as gorgeous as Declan, and not take after his grandfather, Eddy, who was a little on the plain side. Kate had told Shirley that genetic characteristics could skip the generations, and her child could be as plain as a barn door, but that was just Kate stirring the pot.

  She sighed and was glad that Kate would be doing most of the talking today. Sometimes it was good to have a motor-mouth for a sister. It took the pressure off Shirley, when she wasn’t in the mood for conversation. They hadn’t met Marion for a while, as Shirley was beginning to feel tired in the evenings, as well as trying to cope with the morning nausea. She fell asleep on the sofa all the time. It was only lunchtime now, and she was yawning already. The door clicked open and they went in.

  Mrs Greenwood, herself, was looking like a film star with her white, bubble curls and her heavy make-up. She wore very strong perfume, a pinstripe suit, and a pretty little silver bracelet on her left wrist. For the want of something to say, Shirley commented on the bracelet.

  ‘Oh, this,’ Marion said. ‘I’ve had this little thing for years and years. It’s only costume, but of great sentimental value.’

  The truth was that Johnny had only recently given it back to her. Just two weeks ago, in fact. He’d kept it on his bedside table for twenty years, waiting for the opportunity. Marion had decided to wear the bracelet during the run-up to the wedding, as a way of including Johnny in the preparations. She knew it was a silly notion, but it felt the right thing to do.

  ‘Now, let me fetch some teas, and we’ll have a little chat about styles. You go ahead and have a look round. You’re very pale, Shirley. Have you had any lunch? I’ll see have I any cookies.’

  Shirley was looking extra-pale today, because she had wisely decided to leave off the black eye-pencil and the red lipstick, so as not to stain the bridal gowns. But she was too tired to bother explaining that to her future mother-in-law.

  While Marion was busy in the tiny kitchenette, Kate and Shirley walked along the rails, looking at the gowns. There were dresses of every size and description, and a huge cupboard full of glass tiaras and satin shoes, pretty drawstring handbags and silk flowers. Shir
ley was overwhelmed, but Kate was disappointed.

  ‘The thing is, this is all far too fancy for me,’ whispered Shirley.

  ‘Are you mad?’ said Kate. ‘There’s nothing here I would even consider wearing. It’s all far too plain. I want a fairytale dress.’

  ‘Do you think we should buy similar dresses?’ asked Shirley. ‘Something from the same range? So that we match?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Kate was sure about that. ‘We’re not identical twins. I’m going up the aisle like a flower-show float. I want a train on the back, and a crown on my head, and a full skirt, and beading and bows and frills and covered buttons and –’

  ‘Here we are,’ said Marion, coming back with a little tray bearing three elegant china cups of tea, and a plate of fancy biscuits. ‘Any thoughts so far?’

  The sisters tried on gowns, all afternoon. The shop was closed to the public that day, so they had plenty of time. But nothing seemed to work. The girls’ pale skin looked almost blue beside the bright whites, pale creams and shimmering ivories of the dresses. Even the magnificent gown Marion adored did not suit either of them. Kate tried it on first, then Shirley. They tried adding shawls, fabric roses, and clip-on collars. But the results were always disappointing. Even Marion had to admit that she was beaten. The two sisters would have to be dipped in a bath of fake tan, to give them a bit of colour. Marion suggested a little trip to a new tanning salon in East Belfast, but the sisters weren’t interested. Kate declared that fake tans were as common as muck, and Shirley worried about the baby getting radiation poisoning or feeling too warm.

  Then Shirley spied a navy velvet evening dress at the very back of the rail. It had long sleeves, a scoop neckline and a full skirt. The dress was the same colour as the sky on summer nights. Shirley felt a spasm of happiness in her chest. She excitedly announced that she had found her dress.

  Marion was not impressed. ‘Oh, dear, I don’t think so, Shirley, pet. It’s blue!’

  ‘It’s beautiful. I love it.’

  ‘But it’s blue.’

  ‘I think it will suit me.’

  ‘It’s an evening gown, Shirley, not a bridal gown.’

  ‘Can I try it on? Please?’

  ‘Well, if you like. But I don’t think…’

  Shirley disappeared into the fitting room with more enthusiasm than she had felt all afternoon. The dress was a perfect fit. You couldn’t see the bump at all, and the colour made her eyes look much bluer than they really were. She began to feel optimistic about the ceremony for the first time. She came out from the curtained changing room and gave them a little twirl.

  ‘I’d like this one,’ she declared. ‘If that’s all right.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Marion, flatly.

  ‘If it’s not too expensive?’ said Shirley.

  ‘No, it’s not too expensive. Not that cost was ever going to be a problem.’

  ‘Are you disappointed?’ asked Shirley.

  ‘Well,’ said Marion, thinking of her own modest wedding dress, ‘I wanted you to have a very special day, that’s all.’

  ‘I will have,’ said Shirley. ‘Thank you very much.’

  ‘It is a bit plain,’ Kate observed.

  ‘Oh, but I’ll wear several strands of beads. A pearl choker, maybe? And I’ll have a big bouquet of flowers,’ said Shirley. ‘Sunflowers!’

  ‘Sunflowers? Real ones?’ Marion was shocked. ‘Those big, untidy things?’

  ‘Yes, a big bunch of sunflowers. I don’t mind if they’re real or artificial.’

  ‘Will you wear a tiara?’ said Kate. ‘You’ll have a tiara, surely?’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘So, you’re definitely not going to wear white?’ Marion wanted to be sure.

  ‘I’m pr– I mean, I’m expecting. Everyone knows I’m expecting. It just wouldn’t be right,’ said Shirley. ‘It would be a fraud.’

  ‘You don’t have to be a virgin to wear white!’ cried Kate. ‘It’s not a rule of law. Is it, Mrs Greenwood? Even if you’re not preggers?’

  ‘No, it’s not a rule,’ said Marion, moving the silver bracelet round and round on her wrist. ‘But it is traditional.’

  ‘Well, then,’ said Shirley. ‘Let’s be different. Let’s have a big splash of colour. I feel confident in blue. I just feel silly in the other dresses. Like a little girl playing with the dressing-up box. I’m sorry, but that’s how I feel.’

  ‘Okay, then. If you’re really sure,’ said Marion. She hadn’t the energy to fight about it. Shirley’s hormones must be going haywire; that was the reason for this madness. Oh, well, she thought. Let her get married in blue, if it makes her happy. Marion had stopped fussing about little things since the kidnapping. Her priorities had changed. The fact that Declan was getting married at all was the main thing. The details were not important.

  ‘I’m definitely sure. I always thought white wedding dresses were boring, anyway,’ said Shirley, admiring herself in the huge mirror. ‘And patronizing to women. I mean, the men don’t have to wear white, do they?’

  There was an awkward silence in the room. Dozens of white gowns, hanging in their protective plastic covers, seemed to shrink away from Shirley’s declaration that they were boring. Marion coughed nervously. A hot flush began to spread over Shirley’s face and shoulders.

  ‘Well, maybe they should wear white,’ faltered Shirley. ‘The grooms. And all the guests, too. Everybody in white. Like film stars…’

  ‘You know what, Shirley?’ said Kate, eventually. ‘I think you might be onto something here, with this colour thing. Mrs Greenwood, do any of these dresses come in gold?’

  ‘Now that you come to mention it, I do have one gold dress. It’s very lavish – you might not like it. I ordered it some years ago for an actress, but then the wedding was called off. It cost a fortune, I remember. She paid half and we called it quits.’

  ‘An actress, eh? I’d love to see it.’ Kate was thrilled.

  ‘I’ll get it. One moment, please.’ Marion went off to the stockroom with a spring in her step, hoping that this marathon session would soon be over.

  ‘Are you sure it won’t bring you bad luck, Kate? A cancelled wedding, and all that?’ Shirley whispered.

  ‘Not at all. You make your own luck in this world,’ said Kate. ‘Someone else’s loss is my gain.’

  Marion brought the gown into the salon. It was absolutely dripping with frills and lace and glitter-tipped rosebuds, with a long train and matching veil.

  ‘What do you think?’ she said brightly. ‘I thought it was very Princess Diana.’

  ‘I’ll take it,’ said Kate, checking the label. ‘It’s the right size. How much will you take for it?’

  ‘Not a penny. It’s a gift.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t. Really.’ But she could.

  ‘Sure, take it. I was going to give Shirley a gown costing a thousand pounds. And the blue one costs only two hundred. So, you might as well get the benefit of the saving.’

  Kate tried on the gold dress and flounced around in it for over an hour until the talk dried up completely, and Marion had to chase the two of them out of the door, so she could get home to safety and Eddy and the children. The thought of Shirley looking shy in a blue dress, with her new baby on the way, and thirty-year-old Kate simpering like a spoilt child in her outrageous gold creation, was just too much for Marion to cope with by herself.

  25. A Ghost at the Feast

  ‘So, you haven’t told him? I know I said not to but I thought perhaps you might have changed your mind? I had my hopes up, waiting for you to get in touch.’

  Silence.

  Johnny and Marion sat in the shade of a rose-covered trellis, in the Botanic Gardens. It was mid-April. Declan’s wedding was just days away.

  ‘I haven’t told him, Johnny, and I don’t think I can.’

  ‘I know it’s very hard for you, Marion. But why not?’

  ‘Well, we were talking about the wedding, recently, just Declan and me. I wanted to be sure that he’s happy
to be getting married so young. And he said that myself and Eddy were an inspiration to him. How happy we are, and how much we still love each other. It’s one of the reasons he’s getting married to Shirley.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘He really believes in marriage, Johnny, which is a very unusual quality in a young man, these days. They normally say they don’t want to be tied down. Not at twenty, anyway. They seem to have some misguided notion that they are going to play the field for a decade before settling down with a world-famous glamour model.’

  ‘Are you trying to say that I would be a bad example to him?’

  ‘I just don’t want him to become disillusioned with marriage.’

  ‘Oh, Marion, he won’t.’

  ‘How do you know? You don’t know anything about him. When he finds out I got married because I was desperate, there’s no telling what he’ll do. Children are very emotional at that age. Every feeling they have is exaggerated by their hormones.’

  ‘You weren’t exactly desperate, Marion. Come on! Eddy was an old flame. He wasn’t a stranger.’

  ‘I was desperate, Johnny. You have no idea. I was worried sick. And Eddy saved me from God knows what. Adoption? Poverty?’

  ‘But you love Eddy now?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do. I loved him all along and just didn’t know it. But I wasn’t in love with him, the day I accepted his proposal.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell Declan that. Tell him you loved Eddy very much.’

  ‘If that was true, why would I be carrying another man’s child? What would that say about me and you? What we had together? That it was just based on physical attraction? I betrayed Eddy completely. You must see that.’

  Silence.

  ‘You’re wearing my bracelet.’

  ‘I don’t know why. I’m too sentimental, I suppose.’

  ‘You still care for me a little bit? Don’t you?’