A Nest of Singing Birds

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by A Nest of Singing Birds (retail) (epub)


  ‘I’m made up with your mother-in-law’s house,’ Bridie said. ‘Mind you, I wouldn’t have got it if I hadn’t been leaving mine for someone else on his waiting list. People’d kill for a house the way things are. She’s a lovely woman,’ Bridie declared and looked over to where Sarah sat with Joe as usual close beside her, her hand clasped in his.

  ‘She’s a lovely girl too,’ Bridie said. ‘They haven’t got a brass farthing while Joe’s training but it doesn’t worry them. They’re in a world of their own.’

  Anne looked at Sarah and Joe, then rather wistfully to where John stood deep in discussion with Tony and Shaun. Nothing would draw Joe away from Sarah, she thought, but then gave herself a mental shake. Tony and Shaun were not staying close to their wives either. It was Joe and Sarah who were exceptional, not herself and John.

  She smiled tenderly as her mind went back to only a few hours earlier when she had been lying in John’s arms and to their tender lovemaking. As though her thought had reached him, he turned and looked at her and mouthed, ‘All right?’ Anne nodded happily and he turned back to Tony and Shaun.

  Bridie had gone to talk to John’s mother and grandmother and Jack to talk to Greg Redmond and Pat Fitzgerald. Theresa had taken Bridie’s place beside Anne who told her how well she looked.

  ‘I’m glad you think so,’ Theresa said cheerfully. ‘I’ve just found out I’m expecting again.’

  ‘Congratulations!’ Anne exclaimed. ‘What would you like this time?’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Theresa said, ‘but I hope it’s not twins. Anyone tells you, Anne, that twins are less trouble than two babies, don’t believe them. They’re hard work, trust me. I thought you might have started again. Gerry’ll be two next month, won’t he?’

  ‘We thought we’d get settled first,’ Anne said. ‘But now – I don’t mind.’

  ‘No. As long as the fellers pull their weight it’s all right. I make sure Jim does his share, I’ll tell you.’

  Later Eileen played the piano and several people sang. Fred came to where Anne and her father stood together. ‘Just like old times, isn’t it?’ he said happily.

  ‘Yes, it’s a great party, Uncle Fred,’ Anne said, squeezing her father’s hand and as Fred moved on Pat smiled sadly at his daughter.

  ‘Ah, well, Fred’s right, I suppose, girl. Life goes on. I look round and see all these young ones coming along and growing up and it’s how it should be.’

  ‘“The hungry generations tread us down,”’ Anne quoted and Pat said anxiously, ‘No. There’s none of them hungry, girl, thank God. You’re all doing well.’

  ‘We are, Dad,’ she agreed. ‘We’ve got a lot to be thankful for. We’re all happy.’

  ‘You always were, girl, and I hope you always will be. Happy Annie,’ Pat said, giving her a hug and a kiss.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The party at the Redmonds’ house on Saturday was on a much smaller scale as they had few relatives. The guests were mostly old friends and neighbours from the years in Everton.

  Anne and John went to the house near Breckfield Park in early afternoon and Anne helped to make sandwiches and slice fruit cake while John took Gerry upstairs and coaxed him to sleep.

  ‘I miss my big kitchen for a sit-down meal,’ Cathy said to Anne, ‘but if we lay everything out people can help themselves.’

  ‘There’s plenty of food anyway,’ Anne said. ‘And some real treats that haven’t been in the shops for years.’

  ‘Yes. Those parcels from America were a godsend,’ Cathy agreed.

  Peggy Burns, who had been Sally’s next-door neighbour until their houses were bombed, was the first to arrive, closely followed by another old neighbour, Josie Meadows.

  ‘God Almighty, Sally!’ Peggy exclaimed. ‘I never seen such a spread.’

  ‘We got parcels from America from Mary and Sam,’ Cathy said. ‘And parcels from our Kate and Gene and his family too. I told them they shouldn’t now the war’s over but they said they knew we still had rationing.’

  ‘Too true it is,’ Peggy said. ‘I believe we’re going to get less bacon and more sugar in the New Year. Mr Strachey’s going to announce it.’

  ‘It’s the bread units that get me down,’ Josie said.

  She turned to Anne. ‘My married daughter’s living with me,’ she said, ‘and her lads are terrors for jam butties. I’m sure they’ve got hollow legs.’

  ‘Is that Edie – the married daughter?’ Anne asked. Sally had told her that Josie’s husband had deserted her for another woman and the married daughter, Edie, had tracked him down and thrown an aspidistra at the woman.

  Josie shook her head and pretended to whistle. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘Our Edith has got a posh house in Bebington over the water. They don’t have no jam butties there. It’s jam in cut-glass dishes to match the accent and bread like wafers. Proper Lady Muck she is now.’

  Anne smiled, thinking of the aspidistra, and Josie went on, ‘No. It’s our poor Sophie that lives with me. Lost her husband two weeks before the war ended – left with two little lads, but she’s all right with me.’

  ‘I’m sure she is,’ Anne said. ‘You’ve been a friend of Mrs Redmond’s for a long time, haven’t you?’

  ‘Cathy? Yes, since we were young girls. She fell on her feet when she married Greg Redmond, but she deserves every bit of luck she’s had. She’s been a true friend to me, Cathy has, and never no different, no matter how she got on. Did you ever meet the other one, Mary?’

  ‘No. She’s been in America since before I met Sarah. I think she came home just before I started at the shop.’

  ‘Well, you haven’t missed nothing,’ Josie said. ‘She was another one like our Edie with her big ideas. Her and Cathy was like chalk and cheese and she wasn’t fit to tie Cathy’s shoelaces for all she thought so much of herself.’

  ‘I think she’s lovely,’ Anne said, looking over to where her mother-in-law stood, flushed and smiling, pouring tea from a huge teapot. ‘She made me very welcome and so did Mrs Ward. They all did. I think I’m very lucky.’

  ‘Aye, Sally Ward had a heart of gold,’ Josie said. ‘She was the one to turn to in trouble and Lawrie her husband. Did you know him?’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Anne said regretfully. ‘I wish I had known him because John idolised him and we can’t talk about him, not really.’

  ‘Everyone thought the world of Lawrie,’ said Josie. ‘My old ma used to say God broke the mould after he made Lawrie. It was a saying the old ones had. My old ma didn’t have a good word for many people but she did for him.’

  Anne looked over at John wishing that he was with her to hear these words but he was with Mick and a group of school friends with whom Mick had kept in touch.

  Gerry had woken and Anne brought him downstairs. Cathy and Sally were still urging people to eat more and when it was clear that everyone had eaten enough they all moved into the sitting room. Gerry was fully awake now and running about, with John beaming proudly at him.

  ‘He’s the image of your Mick,’ Peggy announced. ‘I hope he’s better behaved, Cathy.’

  ‘I was a model child,’ Mick protested and everyone began to talk of his exploits when he was a child.

  ‘You had your mam and dad’s hearts scalded,’ Peggy declared. ‘I never thought she’d live to see you grow up. I thought she’d be wore out.’

  ‘Say something, Mum. I’m being slandered,’ he cried.

  ‘Slandered!’ Cathy said, laughing. ‘You’re being flattered. Peggy hasn’t said the half of it.’

  There was general laughter and Mick wound up the gramophone and put some dance music on. There was no room to dance but the music made a pleasant background to the conversation.

  The new neighbours of the Redmond family mingled happily with old friends from Everton and Greg and Mick poured beer for the men and sherry for the ladies.

  Everyone was in harmony and Anne was enjoying herself. John was with a group of young men in the corner of the room when suddenly voi
ces were raised. John had recently joined the Peace Pledge Union and now was saying fiercely, ‘Do you know what happened when those atomic bombs were dropped? The devastation? The thousands and thousands of people who were just wiped out? And it’ll go on and on. People will be dying for years to come from the effects.’

  Some of the other young men were disagreeing with him but John raised his voice again. ‘It was an offence against civilisation. A disgrace to humanity.’

  Suddenly he was interrupted. Peggy Burns had been sitting in a low chair. Now she seemed to leap up to confront John.

  ‘They was Japs, wasn’t they?’ she screamed at him. ‘I wish they’d all been killed, every last one of them. Wiped off the face of the earth. What about my Michael? A fine big lad – and he was four and a half stone after they’d finished with him. Four and a half stone!’

  John knew about Peggy’s son who had returned broken in mind and body from a Japanese prison camp but he said stubbornly, ‘Two wrongs don’t make a right.’

  ‘Japs! You’re worrying about Japs being killed?’ Peggy accused. ‘Easy to see you wasn’t there. He’ll never get over it, my poor lad, and all the others what was killed by them. If I got me hands on them I wouldn’t leave one alive so don’t you talk soft, John Redmond. You was always a fool.’

  She burst into tears and there was a stunned silence until Cathy put her arm round Peggy and drew her out of the room. John looked round at all the shocked faces then followed his mother and Peggy. Mick picked up a record.

  ‘Here you are, Billy,’ he said to one of the young men. ‘Change the record.’ There was uncertain laughter until Billy read from the label, ‘I’m Painting the Clouds with Sunshine’ and there were cries of ‘Good choice’.

  Everyone began to talk and pretend that nothing had happened but Anne sat shrinking into a chair, feeling bitterly ashamed. She felt that she should have gone to John but she was too upset and too sorry for Peggy to follow him.

  The next moment she heard the slam of the front door and peeping through the curtain beside her saw him walking down the path. She shrank even further into the chair, keeping her head down and hoping that no one would speak to her. Fortunately she was shielded by a girl who sat on the arm of the chair, talking to someone who sat at her feet.

  Suddenly she was aware of Mick who had slipped into the space by the window, close to her. ‘Hello, Anne,’ he said. ‘John gone walkabout?’ She tried to smile.

  ‘I haven’t heard it called that before.’

  ‘Oh, he’s an old hand at it,’ Mick said easily. ‘He saved many a punch-up with me by doing his disappearing act and it stopped Dad from murdering him many a time.’

  ‘I thought it was a recent thing,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, no. Ever since he was a kid,’ Mick said airily. ‘A bit frustrating when you want to have something out with him, and hard on the shoe leather, but better for all concerned in the end.’

  Anne immediately felt more cheerful. Mick seemed to understand, she thought, and his casual attitude made John’s behaviour seem less important.

  ‘Very fond of my grandad, our John,’ Mick was saying quietly. ‘They both wanted to set the world to rights but John never heard the fable of the tortoise and the hare. Grandad was content to work quietly, helping people in his own neighbourhood, and when he tackled bigger issues he did it in such a reasonable way he got things done.’

  ‘John’s so impatient and he gets so worked up about things,’ Anne said. ‘Yet he says himself things are so much better for ordinary people now.’ She felt no disloyalty in saying this to Mick, who was obviously fond of John.

  ‘That’s true. A lot of the things Grandad hoped for have happened now but John will always find fresh causes. Always riding out on a white horse in the cause of right,’ Mick said, smiling. ‘But sometimes he’s like Don Quixote tilting at windmills.’

  Anne laughed aloud and he squeezed her shoulder. ‘So don’t worry,’ he said. ‘One adult cannot take responsibility for another. Everyone must be responsible for how they behave, no one else.’

  He grinned at her and stood up. ‘Where’s the offspring?’

  ‘Creating chaos in the kitchen, no doubt,’ Anne said, laughing and stood up. ‘I’d better see what he’s doing and tell him to stop.’

  She went into the kitchen, feeling more lighthearted than she would have believed possible a short time before. Gerry was sitting on Peggy Burns’ knee and she was feeding him with jelly. ‘By God, this fellow’s got a long drop, Anne,’ she said. ‘This is his third dish.’

  ‘He never knows when he’s had enough,’ Anne agreed, relieved that Peggy was so friendly. She showed no trace of tears and nothing was said about the incident but later Anne took advantage of a quiet moment to say softly to her, ‘I’m so sorry John upset you, Mrs Burns. I’m sure he didn’t mean to.’

  No matter how much she agreed with Mick, she felt that she must apologise to Peggy Burns for John.

  ‘Don’t you worry, girl,’ said Peggy. ‘I shouldn’t have flew off the handle like that but it’s just with our Michael, y’know.’

  ‘How is he?’ Anne asked sympathetically.

  ‘He’s still in hospital but he’s got shifted down to Walton so we can visit him now,’ Peggy said. ‘I think he’s putting a bit of weight on, only he gets these nightmares.’

  Sally Ward had come to the table and she put her hand on Peggy’s shoulder. ‘He’ll get over them, Peg. Don’t worry. It’ll take time but he’s on the mend now.’

  ‘Mend now,’ Gerry repeated, and while they were all exclaiming about his cleverness John appeared in the doorway. He walked over to Peggy. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Burns,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think of them as Japanese. I just thought – you know – people.’

  ‘Aye, well, I suppose I’m a bit on edge like with Michael or I wouldn’t have flew at you like that. Eh, this lad of yours can’t half eat.’

  Gerry held out his arms to John and Anne said quickly, ‘Mind, John. He’s all sticky.’

  He picked the child up and held him at arm’s length while Anne brought a wet flannel and wiped him.

  ‘You don’t want jelly all over your suit,’ said Sally.

  ‘No, it’s the only one I’ve got,’ he said, smiling at Anne, but she busied herself with Gerry. Everyone’s making it easy for John, she thought grimly, but I’m going to have this out with him if I have to lock the doors to keep him in while I do it.

  Gerry suddenly yawned and closed his eyes and Anne was glad to make his sleepiness an excuse to leave without going back into the sitting room.

  They said goodbye to Mick who was leaving the following day and he kissed Anne warmly. ‘Don’t forget what I said,’ he whispered. ‘You’re only responsible for yourself. Let John paddle his own canoe.’

  ‘I will,’ Anne said quietly. She grinned. ‘And tilt at his own windmills.’

  Peggy Burns kissed her too. ‘John’s a good lad, for all his queer ideas,’ she said. ‘He’s always been a good son to his mam and he’ll make you a good husband, girl.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Burns,’ Anne said, hugging her.

  Later, as they walked to the tram, she said to John, ‘I like Mrs Burns.’

  ‘So do I,’ he said. ‘I was sorry I upset her. She’s had a hard life and she was bombed out on the same night as Grandma.’

  ‘She had a lot of trouble even before that, your mum told me,’ said Anne. She braced herself for a discussion of John’s behaviour but before she could speak he suddenly chuckled. ‘Peggy’d have made a good spy though,’ he said. ‘She always gets information before anyone else. Did you hear her about the bacon ration?’

  ‘Yes, and the sugar ration going up.’

  ‘I’ll bet Mr Strachey’ll announce it soon but God knows how Peggy found out. I’m sure the Minister of Food doesn’t correspond with her,’ said John.

  ‘Stranger things have happened,’ Anne said, laughing.

  The chance of discussion had passed but Anne hoped the row with Peg
gy had given John the necessary jolt and thankfully abandoned her plans for a showdown.

  * * *

  John attended committee meetings several evenings a week but the weather was too bad for gardening so he spent more time with Anne. They held a family gathering for Gerry’s second birthday in January and John was the perfect host, and even seemed to be trying to be less indulgent with Gerry.

  He was still a happy, sunny-natured child but was growing daily more mischievous as he grew taller and stronger. He could open doors by standing on a stool and easily open cupboard doors and scatter the contents over the floor.

  ‘This is only natural at this age,’ Anne told John. ‘We’ll just have to be one step ahead of him.’ But this was harder than they expected. John fixed wedges across the doors, but Gerry soon learned how to move them, and although matches and many other things were put out of his reach, he managed to climb on to the kitchen table and reach them.

  When he had climbed for a box of matches and started a small fire in a cupboard full of newspapers, Anne smacked him and John made no protest. ‘He’s got to learn for his own sake,’ she said and was surprised when John agreed with her.

  Gerry was still John’s darling, though, and he bathed him and put him to bed every night and kept him with him as much as possible.

  Anne felt excluded sometimes but accepted the situation and told herself that at least John was not frustrating her efforts to bring Gerry up the right way now.

  John was interested in everything that was happening in the world and discussed events eagerly with Anne. The Liverpool Echo was delivered every evening and she tried to find time to glance through it before John came home and to listen to news bulletins.

  She took a weekly magazine too and the advice to young married women given in it was always to discuss a husband’s interests with him. Anne thought it was good advice but she sometimes wished that John was not interested in so much. The husbands in the magazine seemed only to be interested in ‘business’.

  John was very excited when the coal industry was nationalised in January 1947. ‘No more greedy owners drawing fortunes from the mines, while men are being paid starvation wages and often losing their lives to make those fortunes,’ he told Anne exultantly. ‘Miners will get a living wage now and there’ll be money spent to make the pits safe.’

 

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