‘I hope you know what you’re doing, son,’ Jack Doyle muttered to himself as he stood outside the church whilst the photographs were being taken. Alice was an orphan with five younger brothers and sisters she was determined to take care of. Despite her delicate appearance, inside she was as hard as iron. It meant his Sean, only nineteen, was taking on a wife and five growing children. Even so, Sean looked serenely happy throughout the ceremony. Jack had never dreamt his charming, idle son had so much character.
‘Aren’t they a proper picture, Dad?’ His daughter,
Eileen
, squeezed his arm. ‘Alice looks like a fairy off the top of a Christmas tree.’
‘They make a lovely couple,’ Jack said gruffly. ‘How are you, luv? You’re looking a bit pale.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Where’s Nicky?’
‘Our Sheila’s got him. You know what she’s like the minute she sets eyes on a baby.’
‘I’ll be along to the cottage tomorrow to tidy up the garden and take a look at the Brussels sprouts,’ Jack promised. He went most weekends, mainly to keep an eye on her. ‘They should be ready in time for our Christmas dinner.’
The reception was held in Sheila Reilly’s house. After a quick sandwich and a fairy cake, most of the men departed to the King’s Arms. Despite the cold, Sheila left the front door wide open so the neighbours could pop in for a glass of sherry and a piece of wedding cake – seeing as virtually everyone in the street had contributed something towards the cake, this seemed only fair. Aggie Donovan, in her element, was put in charge of the cake to make sure it went round.
Guests spilled out onto the pavement. It was a brilliant December day with a touch of frost in the air, but the clear yellow sun seemed to convince everyone it was not really all that cold.
Nan Wright, her dress on back to front, dragged her old body as far as the front door and found she could go no further. She sat down on the step, enveloped in a hazy, happy dizziness and wondered what was going on. ‘Is the war over?’ she asked when the lovely red-haired lady from across the street whose name she couldn’t remember brought her something to eat.
‘Not yet, dear,’ said Jessica Fleming.
Paddy O’Hara was yanked from the pub and pressed to play his harmonica for the ever-increasing crowd outside the Reillys’. Paddy didn’t need much
persuading
. In fact, he would have felt hurt if no-one had asked. He tapped his way outside with his white stick, his dog Rover faithfully at his heels. Paddy was part of the ritual; the sweet quivering notes of his harmonica had accompanied every celebration which had been held in the street over many years. The men came out of the pub and stood listening, joining in the singing when it was something they knew. Nan Wright sipped her sherry and ate her cake and thought it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
At half past twelve, Jimmy Quigley came round the corner waving his stick in the air. ‘We won,’ he shouted jubilantly. ‘We won two–nil.’
‘Won what?’ folks demanded.
‘The bloody semi-final, that’s what.’ Dominic and Niall Reilly followed behind Jimmy. If everyone hadn’t known better, they would have said all three of them were drunk, even the little lads. They were grinning stupidly, as if they’d just won a hundred quid each on the pools.
‘What bloody semi-final?’
‘The semi-final of the Merseyside Junior Football Cup. It means St Joan of Arc’s are in the final in two weeks’ time.’
‘St Joan of Arc’s, in the final?’
‘I’ve been telling you for weeks, but no-one’s taken any notice,’ Jimmy said impatiently. ‘And you’ll never guess where they’ll be playing – Everton Football Ground. All the junior schools have been invited.’
‘Can we come?’
‘Can the street come?’
‘Are we invited?’
‘The whole of Bootle’s invited as far as I’m concerned,’ cried Jimmy.
‘I’ll just go and tell me mam,’ Dominic said blissfully. His mam had tried to insist he and Niall stay home for his
Uncle
Sean’s wedding and had been taken aback when both boys had adamantly refused.
‘I can’t let the side down, Mam,’ Dominic said in a horrified voice.
‘And he needs me to cheer him on,’ Niall assured her.
The house was packed with people when Dominic went in. Uncle Sean was in the parlour, looking incredibly grown up in his uniform with his new wife hanging onto his arm. He spoilt this impression rather when he noticed Dominic in the doorway and squinted his eyes and made a horrible face. Dominic made an even more horrible face back and went in search of his mam. He found her in the kitchen where she was hurriedly cutting sarnies. ‘We won again, Mam,’ he announced grandly.
‘That’s good, luv.’ Sheila glanced at him vaguely. She patted his head. ‘That’s good. Would you like something to eat?’
Women, thought Dominic disgustedly. They didn’t seem to know what was important in the world. He helped himself to three sarnies and a big chunk of wedding cake when Aggie Donovan wasn’t looking and went to join the men outside the King’s Arms where he knew he’d be appreciated.
‘Jess, I’d like you to meet Kate Thomas.’
Jessica Fleming turned swiftly at the sound of Eileen’s voice. Kate Thomas was the woman Sheila had described, albeit jokingly, as her father’s ‘girlfriend’. Jessica was aware she looked her very best that day, in her turquoise suit and matching pillbox hat with a little veil. She’d put her hair up for a change and wore the marcasite and mother-of-pearl earrings and pendant set which Arthur had bought her on their honeymoon in Paris – all her good jewellery, as well as her furs, had gone the same way as the house in Calderstones, to pay off the firm’s debts.
‘How do you do?’ she said with a vivid smile. No
contest
, a voice inside her said when she saw the tiny drab woman in her forties wearing a moth-eaten fur coat and a battered old hat. She had a nice face, shiny, as if it had just been scrubbed very hard, and clear hazel eyes. She shook Jessica’s extended hand firmly.
‘Kate’s the women’s overseer at Dunnings, the factory where I used to work,’ Eileen explained. ‘She gave me loads of legal advice when I had that trouble with Francis. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’ll take Nicky upstairs and put him down for his nap.’
Kate Thomas smiled at Jessica. She had a lovely smile which reached her eyes and made them sparkle. ‘Eileen makes me sound very knowledgeable. It’s just that I was married to a solicitor and picked up bits and pieces of information over the years.’
For some reason, Jessica had got the impression she was an old maid, and was slightly put out to discover she’d been married. She felt certain a man would find a widow a more attractive proposition than a spinster.
‘Have you been widowed long?’ she asked politely.
‘Oh, dearie me, I’m not a widow, more’s the pity,’ Kate said with a laugh. ‘I left my husband a long while ago. To be blunt, he’s an even more unattractive character than Francis Costello was. That’s why I found it so easy to relate to Eileen’s troubles.’ She began to chat eagerly about her eldest daughter who was in the WAAF and stationed in Chester. ‘We normally meet on Saturday afternoon if she can snatch a few hours away. This week it will have to be Sunday.’
Kate Thomas was gradually transforming in front of Jessica’s eyes, from an old maid who went to political lectures into a woman with three children and a lovely smile who’d actually had the guts to walk out on her solicitor husband. As if eager to assist in the transformation, Kate snatched off her hat and shoved it in her pocket, muttering, ‘I don’t know why I’m wearing that in here,’ revealing short, if untidy brown curls
Suddenly
, she looked not just nice, but pretty. Jessica began to feel alarmed, particularly when Jack Doyle appeared and put his arm around Kate’s shoulders and led her away without even noticing Jessica was there.
‘I want you to settle an argument,’ she heard him say. ‘What was Woolton’s job before he was made Minister of Food …?’
They had things in common, Jessica realised with a pang; politics, for one, whereas all she and Jack did was argue. They agreed about nothing. Still, she squared her shoulders and went in search of Penny, whom she found underneath the table in the living room, playing house with Sheila’s three girls. She had no intention of changing and pretending to be someone else just to catch Jack Doyle, no matter how much she wanted him.
At half past four, the bride having changed into a blue suit, the newly married couple left on their honeymoon, a single night in a hotel in New Brighton, a wedding present from Eileen to her little brother and his new bride. Sean’s friends were being accommodated in various houses in the area and would all return to Lincolnshire together next morning.
It was not quite dark, not quite time for the blackout, as everyone gathered outside to see Sean and Alice off. For a few precious moments, it was possible to imagine there was no such thing as a blackout as shafts of pale orange light fell across the cobbled street from the open front doors.
‘Tara, Sean. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
‘Tara, Alice.’
‘Good luck the two o’yis.’
Suddenly, the pair were gone, accompanied by a gang of other young people who were going with them on the train into town to finish off the celebrations there. Darkness fell, doors were closed, curtains drawn and everywhere fell silent. It was difficult to believe the
black
, empty street had been full of noisy, laughing people such a short while ago.
Inside Sheila Reilly’s house, bedlam reigned. The women were sitting in the parlour, six of them, finishing off the sherry, whilst elsewhere the children noisily ate the remainder of the food.
‘The divil’s got into our Dominic today,’ sighed Sheila. ‘There’s no controlling him. He’s infected all the other kids. They’ve all gone wild.’ Her eldest son had been responsible for all sorts of mischief ever since he’d come back from the football match almost out of his head with excitement.
‘He needs his dad,’ said Brenda Mahon.
Sheila winked. ‘So do I!’
There was a crash from the other room and everyone jumped and waited for the ensuing screams. When none came, they decided to ignore it. Jessica worried briefly about Penny, but her daughter had been kept safely under Siobhan’s wing all day, and anyway, she would never agree to stay quietly with her mother when she knew the other children were so evidently enjoying themselves elsewhere.
‘I used to love weddings and parties when I was little.’ Eileen transferred a sleepy Nicky to her other arm. ‘All you cared about was having a good time. Although I enjoyed meself today, I kept worrying about our Sean. Where on earth will they live when he’s home for good? I mean, there’s no room for a young married couple in Alice’s place in Miller’s Bridge. They’re already crammed like sardines in there.’
‘Have some more sherry, luv, and worry about it tomorrer,’ Sheila urged her sister. ‘Anyroad, me dad’s already keeping an eye out in case a house falls empty.’
‘There’ll be dozens already after it,’ Kitty Quigley warned. She’d only recently arrived and was still in her striped nurse’s uniform. ‘Accommodation’s dead scarce in Bootle with so many houses lost in the Blitz.’
‘They’ll be too much in love to notice where they’re living,’ said Kate Thomas, adding with a smile, ‘At least for a while.’
‘Who wants more sherry?’ asked Jessica.
‘Me,’ everyone chorused.
‘This is ever such a good make, Jess. Where did you get it?’ enquired Eileen. Like the others, she was beginning to look ever so slightly drunk.
‘Off Rita Mott who owns the garage. She gave me four bottles, all for nothing. She gets piles of stuff on the black market.’
‘You should have asked her to the wedding,’ said Sheila.
‘It’s a bit late to suggest that now. Anyway, your dad wouldn’t have approved. He can’t stand Rita.’
‘Talking of Jack, where is he?’ Kate Thomas demanded. ‘Where are all the men, come to that? Why is it there’s only women left?’
‘Do you realise,’ Sheila said slowly, ‘there’s six of us and not a single husband amongst us? Three are away in the forces, two have been done away with as it were, and in the case of Kitty, he hasn’t yet arrived on the scene.’
‘Xavier’s in the forces
and
he’s been done away with,’ Brenda said sourly.
‘Mine might have arrived on the scene,’ Kitty hiccuped. ‘I’ve got a date tonight with a sailor. In fact, I’d better go home and get washed and changed.’ She got reluctantly to her feet.
‘Keep your hand on your ha’penny this time,’ Sheila said darkly. She turned to the others. ‘She nearly came to no good on the steps of St George’s Hall last time she had a date.’
There was a full moon that night. It hung, glittering, in the navy-blue star-powdered sky as Jessica Fleming made her unsteady way home some hours later with her daughter. She wasn’t sure what time it was, but the
sherry
had all gone and Sheila’s house had gradually grown quiet as most of the exhausted children became sleepy.
‘It was a lovely wedding, Sheil,’ said Brenda in an unnatural, high-pitched squeak. Her two girls were fast asleep on the landing. ‘I had a lovely time.’
‘Me, too, Sheila,’ Jessica echoed. Dominic was teaching Penny how to play football with the teacosy. They were the only two left who were wide awake.
‘Me house is wrecked,’ groaned Sheila. ‘Though it’s all me own fault. I was enjoying meself too much getting pissed in the parlour.’
Kate Thomas was taking Eileen home in her car. ‘Are you sure you’re fit to drive?’ asked Jessica.
‘I drive better when I’ve had a few drinks, it gives me more confidence.’ Kate swayed slightly. ‘I’m only dangerous when I’m sober.’
Jessica gave Penny a cat’s lick of a wash and put her straight down in her cot. Despite the fact she wriggled her plump body in protest, she fell asleep the minute her head touched the pillow.
‘You’re beautiful, sweetheart,’ whispered Jessica. ‘I’m so lucky having you.’ She bent down and stroked the soft golden hair, noticing the way the slightly distorted jowels quivered with each swift intake of breath. She recalled all the weddings she’d gone to in the past when she’d been the only married woman present who was childless. No matter how well dressed she’d been, no matter how expensive the present she’d bought, she always felt inferior, second best.