Gracie

As Ruby closed the door, Gracie grinned again and swung her legs back onto the sofa. She leaned back, closed her eyes and thought back over her enduring friendship with Ruby.

When Gracie McCabe and Ruby Blakeley had first met on the maternity ward in Rochford Hospital in 1946, they were just two teenage girls who had naively got themselves into trouble and then had to give up their illegitimate babies. The two distressed girls had quickly bonded on the ward but had then gone their separate ways to restart their lives; they’d promised to keep in touch, but at the same time they had both really wanted to pretend the previous few months of their lives had never happened. Although Gracie at nineteen was three years older than Ruby, she hadn’t known that at the time because as far as everyone in the hospital knew, Ruby was a young war widow having a legitimate baby.

In their separate miseries, neither of them could have foreseen that their chance meeting was actually going to be the start of a close and enduring friendship; one in which their lives would be so entwined they would become closer than sisters.

It had been a few weeks after leaving the hospital when Gracie had, on the spur of the moment gone to see Ruby and, away from the constraints of the maternity ward they had quickly developed their friendship; from then on, despite the circumstances of their initial meeting, they had both constantly thought themselves lucky to have met each other.

Ruby had been fortunate in that her baby girl Maggie was adopted by George and Babs Wheaton, the couple with whom she had been billeted when she was evacuated from London during the war, and she saw her often. Gracie had not been so lucky. She’d been sent to a mother and baby home, where she was constantly reminded of her sins and from where her baby, an unnamed little boy, was adopted by total strangers and lost to her forever. She had put on a brave face after the event; the wound was hidden from sight but the pain was still there. It was a constant ache in her heart that never really went away.

TWO (#ulink_0a7a81e3-2b35-5eb9-be87-587a77df3d50)

‘Happy?’ Sean asked that afternoon when they were both sitting on the sofa in front of the gas fire, arms entwined, unable to stop smiling. Gracie had spent the morning catching up on her sleep and getting ready for her new fiancé to arrive after his shift at work was over.

‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘And you? Mind, you’d better be. You can’t change your mind now! I’ve got the ring on my finger and I’ve said YES. You’re committed now, no jilting allowed …’ Gracie jabbed her elbow in his side and laughed.

‘Of course I’m happy and you’re right, we can’t be changing our minds now. Neither of us. It’s official – you’re going to be Mrs Sean Donnelly, you’re going to be my wife! But we need to let our families know, to make it truly official. Will your parents mind that I didn’t ask your father first? I should have done that, shouldn’t I?’

‘No, I’ve told you before; they really don’t give a monkeys what I do. It’s been a long time since I was part of the family. Anyway, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need to tell them what I’m doing.’

Gracie’s tone was casual as she tried to shut the conversation down but she was suddenly on edge. She didn’t want to think about her family at that moment and she certainly didn’t give any thought to their potential role in the engagement yet she sensed that now they were going to be married, Sean would want to know more about the rift between them than she was comfortable with.

‘But getting wed’s something special, so maybe now’s the time to be putting all that right. We’ll go and visit together so I can meet your parents and your sisters. All this time us knowing each other and then going out and I’ve not met any of them, not a single one …’ he paused and looked straight into her eyes. ‘I’m just wondering, you’re not ashamed of me, are you?’

Gracie smiled quizzically, unsure if he was joking or serious. ‘Why would I be ashamed of you? It’s more likely to be the other way round, you being a good God-fearing Irishman and me a lazy old lapsed who only goes to church for weddings and funerals. I bet your family will hate you marrying an English girl …’

‘Oh Gracie, my lovely girl, they’re going to welcome you with open arms. I’m the golden boy of the family, don’t you know, the only boy with four big sisters who all adore their baby brother. I can get away with anything – even marrying a naughty English girl who doesn’t go to mass anymore. Or confession. I’m betting you don’t go to confession either …’

He laughed and pulled her into him. ‘We’re going to have to change that, you have to confess all your wrong-doings.’

‘I don’t need to go to confession, I never do anything wrong. You know, we should tell your family about the engagement right now. Let’s write to them …’

Gracie jumped up and crossed the room to the small bureau, hoping she’d distracted him away from asking any more about her family.

‘Okay now, here’s what I think,’ Sean said. ‘We’ll write to my parents in Ireland as you say and tell them the news, and then on my day off next week we’ll go and visit with your family and break it to them together. They live out by the airport now, don’t they? Right on the bus route.’

Gracie could feel the guilty panic rising as memories of the past came to the forefront of her mind.

She knew her easy-going father would be no problem, but her mother was a different kettle of fish. Gracie wasn’t sure she could trust her not to sabotage the engagement by either deliberately or accidentally revealing her secret to Sean.

All Gracie had wanted from her parents was for the past to be buried and forgotten but her mother had never been able to forgive her for the shame she had visited on the family.

On the few occasions when they saw each other the woman couldn’t resist sniping away over her daughter’s illegitimate pregnancy. She simply couldn’t forgive her, regardless of the passage of time, and it was the reason Gracie had had so little to do with her parents. It was easier to forget about her long-lost baby when she wasn’t constantly confronted by her mother bringing it up.

‘I know, instead of writing, let’s go to Ireland!’ Gracie blurted out, her voice gradually getting higher and faster. ‘Let’s go to Ireland and surprise them. I want to meet your family; we could take a small holiday. I’ve never been to Ireland, I’ve never been anywhere apart from London and Melton with Ruby. I know Ruby won’t mind if I’m away from the hotel for a few days …’

Sean frowned slightly as he looked hard at her. ‘A grand idea, I’m sure, but do I get the feeling you’re not wanting me to meet your family? In fact, I’m now really thinking you’re ashamed of me, Gracie. Do you think I’m not good enough for them? Not good enough for you yourself?’

‘That’s so daft and you know it,’ Gracie replied. ‘It’s just as I said, I don’t have much to do with them any more so telling them isn’t that important.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But you’re right and of course we’ll go and tell them … Soon. After we tell yours.’

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence from Sean where Gracie was unsure what to say, he stood up and walked over to the French windows that opened out onto the balcony.

‘Is it too cold to go out there, do you think?’ Sean asked, with his hand on the ornate wrought-iron handle.

‘Too bloody cold for me, that’s for sure,’ Gracie laughed, ‘but you’re welcome to go and freeze your ears off if you must.’

Sean shrugged his jacket on and stood the collar up round his ears before opening the full-length window and going outside. He quickly pulled it closed behind him, leaving Gracie rubbing her hands together in front of the fire and feeling as if her euphoria had been snatched away. She’d been so caught up in the dreamy planning, she’d stupidly not given a thought to Sean wanting to involve their respective families. With all his relatives being in Ireland and hers all but estranged they had never been part of their relationship and she had subconsciously excluded them all, but now she found herself wondering about Sean’s family and worrying about her own.

In Gracie’s mind, Ruby Blakeley was her family, the Thamesview Hotel was her home and she hadn’t thought much further than that.

As her new fiancé stood on the balcony, looking out into the darkness with his back to her, Gracie looked at his shadowy outline through the glass. He was standing perfectly still with his shoulders hunched up to his ears and his hands in his pockets.

At first glance Sean Donnelly looked very average and he didn’t stand out at all from the crowd. He was about five foot eight in his socks, with coarse black hair that already had a few premature stray white hairs, pale Celtic skin that glowed in the sun and the beginnings of a paunch – but he also had green eyes that twinkled when he laughed, an easy-going personality and he worked hard. His Irish accent had lessened over the years he’d been in England but it was still there in the background and Gracie loved listening to him when he was in full flow, telling embellished stories of happenings in the Palace Hotel where he worked. She had seen him grumpy, tired and occasionally fed-up but she’d never seen him lose his temper or get roaring drunk and he’d never been nasty to her, even when they occasionally bickered.

As she studied him, lost in her thoughts, he turned round and smiled at her. Gracie smiled back. Sean was a nice young man, perfect husband material in her eyes, and she was going to be his wife and the mother of his children. She wasn’t going to let anything spoil that for her.

Especially not her oft-regretted past and her unforgiving mother.

Grabbing her coat and scarf Gracie followed Sean outside into the cold winter air.

‘It’s not that bad for January, is it? I’m guessing the over-hang of the roof protects the balcony from the worst of it,’ he said as she stepped alongside him. ‘There’s a bit of a nip in the air but we can keep each other warm.’

Sean put his arm around her shoulder and together they leaned on the balcony railing and peered out into the silent winter darkness that engulfed the estuary. As they looked ahead Gracie adjusted her eyes. The water was dark and the night clear, with a sprinkling of stars in the sky and a few random lights on the water from the fishing boats out in the deep water. It was so beautiful she wanted to cry.

‘Leonora used to be out here every spare moment you know, rain or shine, watching for passing boats and ships. I once saw her sweep several inches of snow off her chair so she could sit with her binoculars. She was such a secret romantic and she loved it out here; she just wanted to be on one of the big passenger liners heading off to the great unknown.’

Gracie opened her eyes wide as she felt the tears welling up; not just at the thought of Leonora Blakeley’s lost dreams, but at everything. Her heightened emotions on this special day were making her reminisce too much. She raised a hand to her eye and surreptitiously wiped a big fat tear away, hoping that Sean wouldn’t notice.

‘Well, it’s a grand place to be, that’s for sure,’ he said. ‘Right on the seafront like this. Ruby’s a lucky girl to own this hotel at such a young age; it must be worth a fortune. She was so fortunate to inherit it too, especially with her and Leonora not even being related.’

‘Oh, she knows she’s lucky but she’s worked really hard as well. That was why Leonora left it to her, she knew she’d take care of it; and I’m better off too because of her …’ Gracie opened her eyes wide again. ‘I mean, I’m living here and I’ve got a blinking good job as well! Rube’s been good to me, same as Leonora was in her own way. I’m so lucky!’

‘Ah maybe, but it’s a two-way street. Ruby would have been up the creek with no paddle without you beside her after that Leonora woman passed on. Don’t you go thinking you owe her any more than she owes you. If anything, you should be entitled to more than you have from her.’

‘I don’t think about it like that,’ Gracie said firmly, wanting to shut down the conversation. ‘I’m just so pleased I met Ruby and that we’re friends. More than friends in fact; we’re probably closer than sisters.’

She knew Sean was making a clumsy attempt to be supportive but she didn’t like hearing him use that almost jealous tone when he spoke about Ruby Blakeley, her friend. In the beginning she’d dismissed it as natural envy of Ruby’s lucky circumstance but sometimes his comments went just that bit too far for her to be comfortable.

‘How did that happen by the way?’ Sean asked, oblivious to the tightening of Gracie’s shoulders under his hand. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known how the two of you met. Ruby was from London, wasn’t she? Apart from during the war?’

It was now or never; but Gracie hesitated. She would either have to tell him the whole sorry tale or stay silent forever. If she was going to marry Sean, she would have to tell him that she and Ruby had met as unmarried mothers on the maternity ward. Be honest, she told herself, tell the truth and shame the devil.

‘At the Kursaal. We met at the Kursaal just after the war when Ruby came to live down here. We were both young and daft, and we clicked. We became friends, almost immediately.’

The decision was made. Without even thinking about it consciously the words were out, the lie was told and Gracie knew there could be no going back. She sighed with relief that she had made her choice, even if it been an instant reaction rather than a well-thought out and measured decision. Now though, she knew she couldn’t ever tell Sean her shameful secret.

The flat where Gracie lived was on the top floor of the Thamesview Hotel, a long established ‘ladies only’ hotel on the outskirts of Southend, on the Essex coast. Leonora Wheaton had set it up before the war as a quiet and select establishment where widows and single women could go for a holiday at the seaside on their own without risk to their reputation. It was genteel and quaint and although there had been some recent upgrading, the essence of it had stayed. A few of the guests had been visiting for years. Sometimes they were accompanied by sisters, daughters, even maids, but no men were allowed to stay under any circumstances. They were allowed into the lobby or the small guest lounge by invitation but the foot of a male visitor could never be placed on the stairs that led up to the accommodation.

Leonora Wheaton had enforced that rule rigidly and Ruby was following suit because it was a formula that worked for the business.