A Girl Can Dream

The Requiem Mass was a long one, but none of the children fidgeted or whispered together. Even Billy seemed awed by the solemnity of it all. And after it, as they began the short walk to Key Hill Cemetery in Hockley, where Maeve was to be buried, Meg caught hold of Billy’s hand. His very shiny eyes grew bigger when, after the murmured prayers around the graveside, the coffin that Meg had told him housed his mother was gently lowered into the prepared hole. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him as his father stepped forward and threw a clod of earth on top of the coffin. Thud. That seemed to Billy to bring home the fact that his mother really was dead. One by one the family threw a handful of earth onto the coffin.

‘You don’t have to do it, Billy,’ Meg told him kindly.

‘I want to.’ Billy shook his head emphatically and, dropping Meg’s hand, he stepped forward boldly. People started to cry afresh as the small boy took a handful of earth, but Billy didn’t cry till the clod hit the coffin. Then the enormity of it all seemed to get to him, the realisation that his mother was dead and gone, and he ran back to Meg and buried his face in her skirt as tears threatened to overwhelm him.

Charlie, too, felt stricken as he watched his children step forward one by one. Unbeknownst to Meg, the Mulligans had offered to take Billy and Sally back with them to what they said was a much better life in Irish countryside, and he had been very tempted,. They painted a powerful picture of the idyllic life the children would have and Liam Mulligan promised that Billy would inherit the farm one day if he took to the work. Charlie felt he couldn’t just dismiss the offer out of hand, but looking at the kids now, they were so lost and vulnerable. They were his children, he realised; they only had the one parent now. The children needed time to grieve for their mother; surely they could do that better in familiar surroundings with people that loved them.

He suddenly peeled Billy from Meg, lifted him into his arms and, carrying him like that, led the way to the Swan, where Paddy Larkin had given him the use of the back room. Rosie and her daughters had worked very hard to put on a good spread for the mourners, and Meg was immensely grateful to them as she took her place beside her father.

As tea and beer flowed, and neighbours got chatting, Charlie drew Meg into the corridor and closed the door against the noise.

‘Are you all right, Dad?’

‘Child, it will be many years before I am all right,’ Charlie told his daughter. ‘Indeed it might never happen.’ He gave a sigh and went on, ‘But I wanted to talk to you.’

‘Talk away then,’ Meg said.

‘It’s about the children,’ Charlie said, and he told her what Liam and Sally Mulligan had suggested, Meg gasped for it was just the very thing her mother said to guard against. Charlie hadn’t noticed her reaction and went on. ‘I know you don’t like Maeve’s parents and you want to keep us all together, but would it be selfish of us to keep Billy and Sally here when they can offer them a much better life in Ireland?’

Meg took a deep breath. She knew she had to remain calm and rational. He was clearly genuinely asking her opinion, so she had to push down her desire to tell him that she could see cruel malevolence in her grandmother’s gimlet eyes, and how much she hated her grandfather’s coarseness and belligerence, particularly when he had a drink in him. The thought of either Billy or Sally being beaten by that hulk didn’t bear thinking about. And there was also the promise she had made to her mother. But it was more than that: she knew the only way for them all to get over their loss was to stay together, so that they could offer support to one another.

She chose her words with care. ‘If I had to choose between health and happiness, I think I would choose happiness every time,’ she said. ‘Mom said she was desperately unhappy at home.’

Charlie nodded. ‘I remember. But I suppose people can change.’

‘Not those two,’ Meg declared determinedly.

‘So you don’t think they should be given this chance?’ Charlie asked her seriously.

Meg shook her head. ‘If you send them away I won’t be able to keep the promise I made to Mom and that will distress me greatly. But, more importantly, I think both Billy and Sally will be desperately sad.’

Charlie still looked hesitant and Meg took his arm. ‘Come on, Dad. Their place, the place for all of us, is in the bosom of the family where we are loved and understood.’

Meg saw with a measure of relief that her words had hit home as her father nodded his head. ‘You’re right. I think you are right.’ The image of his young ones standing by their mother’s coffin came into his mind again. ‘I don’t want to send the two young children away like that, however healthy it is. Their place is here – and more especially now, but have you no qualms at all about how you will cope?’

Meg put her hand on his arm. ‘Dad, I’ll never be another Mom, but I will do my best, and when I make mistakes I’ll learn from them. I know this is what Mom wanted above anything else, and that helps.’

‘Right,’ Charlie said, squaring his shoulders. ‘I am away back into the room and will tell Maeve’s parents that the children won’t be going with them.’

‘That’s the spirit, Daddy,’ Meg said, and she smiled with relief as she followed her father.

THREE (#ub82fe912-7441-5b58-9895-cb557561cea0)

No one felt particularly easy until the Mulligans had left. Charlie ran to the expense of a taxi to take them to the station as their train was leaving very early in the morning. But still the whole family got up to see them off, or, as Terry said, to make sure they really went. As Meg watched the taxi drive down the road she felt the sudden desire to dance a jig.

Terry had done his work well and soon Meg had her siblings all helping her with the weekly wash. Terry filled the large copper in the brew house, and when the clothes had had a good boil, Meg hauled the white shirts and the like into a shallow sink, She’d already added Beckett’s Blue to the water and Billy and Jenny swirled the clothes through there before wringing them out and taking them to Jenny who was operating the mangle. The rest of the clothes were heaved into the maiding tub and then Meg pounded them up and down with the dolly stick, That finished they all had a go at turning the mangle, while Meg hung the damp clothes on the lines criss-crossing the yard. This was all done to cries of encouragement from the women from the yard, who knew that Meg was keeping them busy for their own sakes.

And when the family wash was completed Meg fished out all the baby things their mother had put in a trunk in the attic and these too were washed in the sinks by hand for as Meg said, ‘There will be nothing new for this baby, so the least we can do is welcome her with sweet-smelling clothes and bedding.’

Later that evening Meg laid down the iron after pressing the last of the little smocked dresses and said to Terry, ‘You know, small as these clothes are, they are going to swamp Ruth. She is so incredibly tiny still.’

‘She must be all right to come home, though.’

‘Yes, she’s five pounds now.’ She began folding up the clothes. ‘I suppose I’m just nervous generally. I mean, I really want to bring Ruth home, it’s where she belongs, but I am worried how I’ll cope with everything.’

‘We’ll all help as much as we can,’ Terry said. ‘I think we’ll have to because I can’t see our dad giving you much of a hand with her.’

‘No,’ Meg said, shaking her head. ‘I can’t understand him. How can he blame a tiny baby for Mom’s death when it’s more his fault than her’s?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Nothing,’ Meg mumbled, not wanting to discuss the sexual side of marriage with a boy only twelve years of age. ‘Don’t mind me. I’m just cross with Daddy generally. I mean, we’re all suffering, but he just can’t seem to pull himself together. Where did he slope off to at dinner-time and where is he now?’ That didn’t need an answer. They both knew he was at the Swan. ‘Quite apart from anything else,’ Meg said, ‘he can’t afford to go to the pub every night.’

‘He says he is bought drinks,’ Terry pointed out.

‘Maybe he is being bought a few drinks at the moment,’ Meg said, ‘especially with Mom’s funeral just over, but that’s not going to go on for ever. And I doubt people buy him enough for him to get in the state he seems to be in some nights. I hear him stumbling around and muttering to himself.’

‘So do I,’ Terry said. ‘And I know it was agreed that you move into the bedroom with the baby while she is so small and needing night feeds so she won’t disturb us, but Dad disturbs us much more coming home drunk.’

‘Maybe he’ll take a grip on himself with another mouth to feed,’ Meg said.

‘Yeah,’ said Terry, with a rueful grin. ‘And maybe pigs fly.’

The following day, Meg and her aunt Rosie went to fetch the baby home. The nurse seemed a bit surprised and said, ‘I thought your father might be here with you today to discuss the little one’s care in the future.’

Meg’s eyes met those of her aunt, but she felt she had to defend her father. ‘He … he had to work,’ she said. ‘You know the funeral and all was a great expense.’

‘Of course, I understand,’ the nurse said, but Meg knew that she didn’t. It was small wonder: Meg herself didn’t fully understand why her father had never been to see his baby daughter since the day of her birth.

But she said to the nurse, ‘What do you mean about the baby’s care? She is all right, isn’t she?’

‘Oh, yes, she is,’ the nurse said, ‘but she is a month premature and so her feeds will have to be little and often – every two to three hours.’

Meg nodded and the nurse went on, ‘And she will be unable to regulate her temperature so you must ensure that she is kept warm. Be aware of that and add an extra blanket if the nights are cold. And guard against infection. Don’t let anyone nurse her if they have a cold or anything. In fact, keep visitors to a minimum for now.’

‘Little chance of that,’ Rose laughed. ‘Every woman in the street has been on pins all day, knowing the wee one is coming home. They mean her no harm, but want to welcome her properly.’

Meg nodded. ‘And they have all been good to us since Mom died and I’d hate to offend them, but if I see anyone with a cold, I will ask them not to touch her.’

‘Well, do your best,’ the nurse said. ‘And we will keep our eye on her too. So for now I’d like you to bring her in every week to be weighed to make sure she is gaining enough.’

Meg could see the logic of it but it was yet another thing she had to fit into her week. Rose had seen the resigned look flit over her face and said, ‘It doesn’t have to be you that brings the child back here. I could do it sometimes. Don’t be too independent. We can’t help you if you don’t let us.’

Meg smiled gratefully at her aunt and felt the burden of responsibility that had lodged firmly between her shoulders lighten a little.

Rose insisted on paying for a taxi as she said little Rose couldn’t be expected to travel home on a tram, which rattled alarmingly and was probably full of germs. Meg thoroughly enjoyed her second-ever ride in a car, while Ruth, snuggled tight against her, went fast asleep.

Rose was right about the neighbours eagerly awaiting the arrival of little Ruth Hallett. The children barely had time to ooh and aah over their little sister before they were invaded. Everyone brought something: matinée jackets, dresses, nighties, leggings or pram sets. One neighbour brought a rocking cradle and another an enormous pram she no longer needed, and a woman who had had twins five years before brought a selection of clothes that Meg was sure would fit Ruth because the twins had been tiny too.