Forget-Me-Not Child

by Anne Bennett

  Mary knew Stan was an honest man who would put her right about things and she went see him expecting nothing, only to find Matt, like all workers, was in a scheme where he paid four pence a week, the employer three pence and the government two pence, which entitled him to seven shillings for fifteen weeks, but he had to be deemed unfit to work in the first place by a doctor. It might have ended right there because Mary hadn’t money to spend on a doctor who might say there was nothing wrong with Matt at all, and then they would get nothing and still have a doctor’s bill to find, and this was what she said to Stan.

  ‘Oh, you don’t have to pay for this doctor, Mary,’ Stan assured her. ‘He’s on the panel. That means part of the scheme and paid out of the contributions.’

  ‘And what if they find nothing wrong?’ Mary asked for in her heart of hearts she thought Matt was suffering from extreme sadness, because she was suffering from that too, only she had forced herself to get on with life for the sake of the two left to her and the sadness receded slightly to a constant but bearable ache. She had tried talking to Matt who would look at her with rheumy, anguished eyes and just mumble, ‘I can’t, Mary. I just can’t.’

  ‘I think he’ll find Matt is too sick to work,’ Stan said. ‘It hasn’t got to be anything physical, but there again he’s not a well man, Mary. When I called to see him last time I was shocked at his appearance. He was skin and bone.’

  Mary shook her head. ‘I know, he won’t eat.’

  ‘Well, there is something radically wrong when a fit man shrinks away to nothing,’ Stan said. ‘Let’s get the doctor to have a look at him shall we?’

  Matt didn’t want to see any doctor and it took the combined efforts of them all to convince him to agree to it, but when the doctor called Mary was on her own, because Barry and Angela were both at work. The doctor was as aloof as most of them were, but he wasn’t there to be a friend but to find out if there was something wrong with Matt, or just the loss of his sons that had caused this malaise and weight-loss. She had to admit that the doctor seemed to know his stuff and he checked Matt all over and asked him loads of questions and then he faced him and said directly, ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Known what?’ Mary demanded. ‘What you on about?’

  Matt ignored Mary and it was the doctor he addressed as he said, ‘Not long all told.’

  Mary looked from one to the other and said, ‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ And then all of a sudden the men’s faces were so grave she didn’t know whether she wanted to hear what they were going to say. But even as she mentally backed away she told herself it was yet one more thing to be faced. She swallowed the nervous lump that had formed in her throat, faced the doctor and said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘Your husband, Mrs McClusky, has a tumour in his stomach,’ the doctor said gravely.

  Mary wasn’t totally sure what a tumour was, but it didn’t sound a great thing to have and so she said, ‘So can you take it out?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘Nothing happens,’ the doctor said, and went on to say to Matt, ‘I can give you something for the pain.’

  ‘You never said you were in pain,’ Mary said to Matt almost accusingly.

  ‘I was, but I was in such agony at losing the boys anyway,’ Matt said. ‘That hurt so much, any other pain didn’t seem to matter. And then you were suffering too, so how could I load it on you?’

  ‘And were you in a lot of pain?’

  Matt shrugged, but the doctor said, ‘A great deal of pain, I would have said, judging by the size of the tumour now.’

  ‘Aye,’ Matt said. ‘The pain was bad enough at times but still nothing to the loss of two sons drowned in the Atlantic Ocean.’

  The doctor raised quizzical eyes to Mary and she said, ‘Our two sons were lost at sea, making for America to join their older brothers. They travelled on the Titanic.’

  Everyone knew about the loss of life on the Titanic and Mary saw the doctor’s eyes widen in sympathy and he quite knew why the man before him had ignored the pain he must have had for some time. Not that it would have made any difference to the outcome, but maybe he could have made him more comfortable.

  ‘Is that really all you can do,’ Mary said, ‘just give him painkillers?’

  ‘The man can’t work miracles, Mary,’ Matt said. ‘I’ve come to the end of the road and that’s all there is to it.’

  Mary had not realized the doctor would be able to do nothing. Doctors were important and powerful and to seek their advice usually cost more money than she ever had, and what was the point if they could offer no cure? Matt on the other hand seemed to accept his fate and he just asked the doctor, ‘How long have I got?’

  ‘It’s impossible to be absolutely accurate, Mr McClusky,’ the doctor said. ‘However, the tumour has grown very large and seemingly quite quickly, so I would say months rather than years.’

  Mary gave a gasp of shock as she realized that soon she would lose her man, who had been by her side for many years. They had shared in good times and lean ones and she knew she would miss him a great deal.

  Matt looked across at her and gave a wan smile as he said, ‘Best tell our Barry and Angela to get a move on planning that wedding if they want me at it.’ And only Mary saw the tears glittering behind his eyes.

  Angela and Barry were devastated to hear what the doctor had said when Mary told them as soon as they arrived home from work. Angela felt tears spring to her eyes because she loved Matt and she would miss him very much. She remembered when she was small and he was fit and strong he would lift her up onto his broad shoulders and carry her around the room. He had a special smile just for her and called her his wee little lassie. However, she didn’t let the tears fall because she knew it would be worse for Mary and felt she had to be strong for her, but Mary had had time to come to terms with the doctor’s prognosis. Her tears were spent, helped in part by Matt who had urged her not to take on so. He said everyone has to die some time and he’d had a fairly good innings.

  And because Matt accepted his imminent death so well, everyone in the family took their cue from him. The Gaffer could hardly believe the report the doctor left with him and he came to see Matt and was sad to see that he had deteriorated further since he’d last seen him. Matt though had accepted his fate and so they chatted together about old times and the years they had worked together.

  When the Gaffer left Matt he sought out Barry in the factory. ‘Sorry to hear about your father.’

  Barry was touched by the Gaffer’s such obvious concern and he said, ‘Thank you. It was bad news, you know. We thought he was just still grieving over my brothers. Mammy said she feels bad she didn’t see how ill Daddy was, but she was distracted by the loss of the lads as well. Neither of them were thinking straight at the time.’

  ‘Of course not,’ the Gaffer said. ‘That’s quite understandable and Mary is not to blame herself in any way. Now this is something else I don’t want to load onto her either. With the doctor’s diagnosis she is entitled to money but there are forms to fill in and I called at the Post Office on my way back here and got them. But they are so detailed I think they might flummox your mother.’

  ‘I’d say so Gaff,’ Barry said. ‘Mammy can barely read, let alone fill in forms. Angela and I will see to them.’

  ‘Yes,’ Stan said. ‘You’ll soon be head of the house, young Barry. You must look after your mother.’

  ‘You haven’t really to remind me of that, Gaffer, I would do that anyway,’ Barry said a trifle stiffly.

  ‘Of course,’ Stan said. ‘No offence intended.’

  ‘None taken either.’

  ‘Good,’ Stan said. ‘Good. Now if you pop into the office before you leave here tonight I will give you the forms.’

  EIGHT

  News of Matt McClusky’s illness was sweeping the factory and many patted Barry on the back and said they were sorry to hear it and asked him to pass on their best
wishes to his father. When he came home and said this Mary shook her head as she said, ‘I know there are no secrets in the back-to-backs, but how they have heard of this so quickly beats me. I mean, two women asked me if it was true that Matt was very sick when I was at the grocer’s.’

  ‘I had a customer quiz me too,’ Angela said. ‘And Maitland’s is a step from here.’

  ‘Ah well, you know the three quickest ways to spread news?’ Matt said.

  ‘Yes, we know,’ said the other three, for they’d heard it often. And they chorused together, ‘Telephone, telegraph and tell a woman.’

  They laughed gently for it was Matt’s stock phrase and Mary marvelled, but was pleased to see Matt taking part in family things again and realized it was probably pain that had paralysed and exhausted him. Now with the strong pain-killers prescribed by the doctor, the life that he had left was more bearable and her conscience smote her afresh for not realizing how sick Matt was.

  Mary didn’t say this, but what she did say was, ‘Well this woman has said nothing about your illness and yet I know it will be common knowledge across the county by the morning, and the one who probably doesn’t know yet is the priest, and if he gets the news from other people’s tittle tattle, when he does come I will be given a lecture. We need to see him anyway to bring the wedding forward.’

  No one asked why. They had decided on a six-month mourning period before marriage out of respect for the two drowned boys and so as they had declared their feelings for one another in May their wedding was set for mid-October. Now there was a real chance that Matt might be dead by then.

  And so the following day Mary went along to see the priest and told him about Matt and saw by his face he hadn’t known, and he said how sorry he was to hear it, and Mary wished that she could believe one word coming out of his mealy mouth.

  When she said they had decided to bring the wedding forward she saw his eyes narrowed in suspicion and he said, ‘Is there another reason for this untimely haste? Barry and Angela are very young as I said initially.’

  Mary bridled and though usually she was respectful to the priest she was angry enough to forget that as she snapped, ‘If you’re implying what I think you are, then all I can say is you’ve got a mucky mind. My Barry and Angela love one another, but they know right from wrong. I have just told you that my man is dying, the man is father to both of them and they love him dearly and they want him at their special day, and it is Matt’s dearest wish that he walks his daughter up the aisle and that, and only that, is the reason for bringing the wedding forward.’

  The priest was outraged. ‘Mrs McClusky!’ he almost roared. ‘That is no way to speak to a priest.’

  Mary was completely unabashed. She shrugged and said, ‘Maybe it isn’t, but it can’t be right implying that our young people have been up to something they shouldn’t.’

  ‘I was merely asking …’

  ‘No you wasn’t,’ Mary contradicted. ‘You was judging and there isn’t anything to judge.’

  Suddenly she lost patience with the man and said, ‘Now I haven’t time for this. Are you going to marry Barry and Angela or aren’t you, because if it offends your sensibilities then I’ll pop along to St Chad’s and ask them to do it?’

  She didn’t mention this altercation with the priest at home nor did she say that she had rendered the priest almost purple in the face with rage. And he was angry with her for he knew if she did go to St Chad’s and said he refused to marry two of his own parishioners it would reflect badly on him.

  Mary watched his face working and guessed many of the thoughts running round his head and knew she had him over a barrel. No need for anyone to know that and she said only that the wedding was rescheduled for mid-August and that didn’t leave them much time to organize anything and it was a good job they wanted nothing lavish.

  Mary was right, the news spread like wildfire. There was a constant stream of visitors to the house for Matt had been a very popular man, and with the wedding of his youngest son Barry to add to all that had happened to him, there was a lot of feeling in these visits. Father Brannigan was less welcome than most and he was stiff with Mary initially, but when he saw Matt, he knew he should have come to see him sooner or at the very least enquired after him when he hadn’t been seen at Mass and excused Mary for her outburst, thinking she had a lot on her plate. As for Mary, she was surprised how little it mattered to her that the priest was friendly with her or not.

  However, she knew they would soon need the services of a priest so she tried not to antagonize him further and so the visit passed well enough and he promised to call again and possibly hear Matt’s confession if he’d like that.

  Matt gave a wheezy laugh, ‘If you want, Father,’ he said. ‘And I know it’s your job and all, but sitting here day after day has been the most sinless time in my life. I think my soul must be only the slightest bit grey at the moment.’

  Mary was smiling as she opened the door for the priest and even he had a grin on his face and she was glad she had kept details of their disagreement from the others so that Matt was able to behave quite normally towards him.

  Angela thought it was very hard for her to get totally excited about her wedding. As spring gave way to summer, which was proving to be a warm one and mostly dry, she was aware that as each passing day was one day nearer the day she longed for, when she became Barry’s wife, it was also nearer the day when Matt would breathe his last and she would say goodbye to the only father she had ever known.

  Barry too was affected by the imminent death of his father and he was also terribly worried about finance. He didn’t earn that much as an apprentice, but it was better than nothing and he was concerned that when he qualified he might be laid off as his brothers had been, and if that happened he didn’t know how they would survive. At the moment they were all right with Angela working at Maitland’s shop and bringing home a pile of groceries every week as well as her wages. And the extra seven shillings a week they had been awarded due to Matt’s illness was a godsend, though Mary saved most of it, knowing it was money she could not rely on, but it did mean she could afford to get the medicine to make Matt’s life a little easier and dull the pain that he said was like a wild beast tearing his insides out.

  Angela knew that Barry was worried about money and so when they went for a walk one sunny evening in late July, she assured him her job at Maitland’s would be safe even after she married because George had told her so. ‘He said he can see no problem at least till the babies come.’

  ‘Huh, not too many babies I hope,’ Barry said. ‘God, Father Brannigan would scald me alive if he heard me, but I have no desire to see the body pulled out of you with a baby every year.’

  ‘Barry, I long to hold your child in my arms,’ Angela cried.

  ‘I know,’ Barry said, slipping his arm around her. ‘And when you do I will be the proudest man in the universe. And I want to be the best father in the world and see that the child wants for nothing, and how can I guarantee that if we have too many mouths to feed?’

  ‘But doesn’t the Church say that we must be grateful for what God sends?’ Angela said, quoting the Church’s mantra. Planning your family if you were a Catholic was expressly forbidden.

  ‘I know what the Church says but the Church hasn’t to provide for them,’ Barry said. ‘And you haven’t seen the ragged-arsed urchins running the streets. I mean, when I was growing up I was always adequately fed, but some of these children look as if they have never had a square meal in their lives. Their arms and legs are like sticks and they beg for any leftover food at the factory gates when we leave at night. Some get their wives to put up extra and share what they have left but it’s so little and there’s so many of them. It breaks your heart to see them.’

  ‘Ah, it must do,’ Angela said. ‘Poor wee children.’

  ‘Yes and I never want my child to suffer like that,’ Barry said almost fiercely. ‘You’ve no idea Angela. One chap was telling me he lives near the coal yard
and every day at the crack of dawn a gang of them are there with their buckets because when the lorries come out laden with coal, some falls off when they go over the cobbles and they scrabble around and fight each other for these scrappy bits of coal. I never want our son or daughter to be forced to do that either.’

  ‘But how will you stop babies?’ Angela asked. ‘If we love each other and show that love, don’t babies just come from that?’

  ‘Yes, but there are ways of preventing that without spoiling the fun altogether,’ Barry said with a coy smile.

  ‘What ways?’

  ‘Don’t you be worrying your pretty head about that.’

  ‘I bet it’s something the priests wouldn’t approve of.’

  ‘Almost certainly,’ Barry said. ‘And if you knew more you would just worry over it.’

  ‘And you won’t?’

  ‘I won’t give a tinker’s cuss,’ Barry said. ‘Look, you’ll be my wife and we will decide when we’d like to add to our family, not some unmarried priest. Agreed?’

  ‘Yes Sir!’ Angela said with a mock salute and a cheeky grin, and Barry caught her up around the waist and spun her round and Angela felt she might burst with happiness.

  The days folded one into the next and the kindness of people came to the fore, like the women down the yard who pooled resources to make a cake. A girl she barely knew from Grant Street, who’d got married the previous year, was willing to loan Angela her dress. And Mary took some of the money hoarded from the seven extra shillings a week she was getting from the Insurance and took Angela down to the Rag Market in the Bull Ring on the Saturday before her wedding, set for 17th August. George had given Angela the day off as the Rag Market sold fish through the week and it was only Saturday when it sold clothes, but it was definitely where the bargains were to be found, and Mary bought the softest, loveliest underwear, a silk nightgown and stockings and the prettiest white shoes.