Under the July Sun, page 7
‘S’pose you wantacupoftea?’
Cat hesitated, trying to translate what she had said. ‘Thank you. But don’t go to any trouble on my account.’
‘I won’t. It’sallreadyinthe pot.’ She sniffed and got up to get a cup and saucer from the dresser, but something attracted her attention in the garden. She opened the window and bellowed at the boy Cat had just met.
‘Put that bleeding rake down, Reggie! And both of yougetinoutathe rain!’
‘Ye must be Louis’ mother,’ Cat said as the woman poured out her tea.
‘No! I’m Lize’s Mother-in-law, formesins. Mrs. Collis is me name,’ she replied waving cat into a chair. Mrs. Collis sat down opposite Cat and lapsed into silence reading the newspaper she had spread out on the table. Cat wondered whether she should talk or remain quiet.
In the heat of the kitchen, Cat’s woollen coat began to steam, giving off a distinct and unpleasant odour of damp wool, so she undid it and slipped it over the back of the chair along with her headscarf. She picked up her cup and sipped the tea. It was very bitter and there was hardly any milk in it. The mud-coloured liquid slid down her throat scalding it, but she just didn’t feel she could ask her for more milk. Cat decided Mrs. Collis didn’t seem the sort of woman she could ask for more of anything.
In the silence, Cat felt she was making horrible swallowing noises, but Mrs. Collis didn’t appear to notice; it was as though she had completely forgotten she was there.
It felt like an age before Cat heard a key in the lock of the front door and a voice calling out to the children.
‘Reggie. Iris. I’m home.’
Thank Heavens, Cat thought, at least the voice sounded cheerful! Then simultaneously, the boy she had met before, followed by a flaxen-haired, blue-eyed girl of about seven, burst in through the back door just as the owner of the voice entered the kitchen pulling off her headscarf. Cat stood up.
‘Hello, who’s this?’ Lize asked her mother-in-law.
‘FriendaLouis,’ Mrs. Collis grumbled without lifting her eyes from the newspaper. Then she folded it shut and looked up at Lize. ‘Think she’s Irish. Yer later than you said you’d be and now I’m late meself.’ She stood up. ‘I’llbeyoff.’
Cat was trying hard to understand what Mrs. Collis was saying and as she was just deciphering the last sentence, Lize spoke. To Cat’s relief she understood every syllable Lize said as she had a very clear and slow way of speaking, in much the same accent as Louis.
‘Yes, I’m so sorry I got held up Mother.’ She turned to look at Cat. ‘You must be Cat,’ she said stretching out her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you. You’re very welcome. Very welcome indeed. Please, sit down and finish your tea.’
Cat sat with a fixed grin on her face, searching Lize’s face for any resemblance to Louis. Her hair was mousy brown and she was very thin. She had a distinctly hooked nose and blue eyes. She didn’t look like him at all and Cat felt strangely disappointed.
The children stared at Cat until Lize noticed.
‘Iris, Reggie, stop staring. Where are your manners? Go on now, sit up at the table, it’s time for tea.’
They scrambled up to the table and Cat, feeling awkward, wondered if she would be asked to join them. She hoped so, as her growling stomach reminded her that she had not eaten all day.
‘I’m so pleased to meet ye, Lize. I hope ye don’t mind me arrivin’ like this, but I did write. Ye may not have got the letter though.’
‘Oh yes I got it,’ she laughed. ‘But I just did not have time to reply, what with the move and everything. You know how it is. It went clean out of my head. Sorry.’
‘Well is it all right if I stay here for a bit?’
‘Yes of course. It’ll be company for me. My brother said you were a nice person, so you come with good recommendation.’ Lize smiled and started putting fish and chips on the plates.
Mrs. Collis put her coat on and began buttoning it up. ‘Well I’m off now Lize. D’ya want me to come tomorro' to help finish the unpacking?’
‘No, that’s all right. I can manage now thank you, Mother.’
Mrs. Collis said no more but turned on her heel, marched through to the hallway and left, slamming the door behind her. Reggie and Iris looked at each other, then at their mother.
‘She didn’t say goodbye,’ Reggie said
‘Who is she?’ Lize asked, ‘I think you are referring to your grandmother. Is that so?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry, Mummy. But grandmother still didn’t say goodbye.’
‘Don’t be cheeky and eat your food,’ Lize said and clipped Reggie round the head with her hand.
Cat thought the boy was right. The woman had just gone, and not even given the children a kiss. What a strange sort of grandmother she must be or perhaps this was just the English way. Well one thing was certain, she hoped she didn’t have to meet her too soon or too often.
10
Plumstead
November 1914
Lize watched Cat pegging out the washing. It was good to have another adult indoors, especially one that was proving so useful. She began buttering the children’s bread, daydreaming about how she would spend her day, when someone knocked on the front door.
She called out to Reggie asking him to open the door. The next moment Lize’s mother stormed into the kitchen and began shouting at her.
‘You crafty little bitch! Thought you’d steal a march on me did you?’
Lize continued buttering toast, but her hands shook. She put down the knife and began pouring tea, but the pot quivered noticeably as her mother continued shouting at her.
‘Not a word! Not a flaming goodbye or anything! I’m only around the corner, and you couldn’t as much as tell me you were going!’
‘No, that’s right, Mum, I didn’t.’ Lize put the teapot down, and glared at her mother. ‘This house was suddenly left to Louis by a Mrs. White. So I took the opportunity to get out of your house. You’ve done nothing but remind me since Charlie died, that I was getting it at a cheap rent. You certainly didn’t waste any time telling me you wanted your money on time the minute he was killed, and that his death did not make any difference – you still wanted your rent!’
Lize became aware of Reggie and Iris staring wide-eyed at them both.
‘Anyway, Mum, you can charge a higher rent now can’t you?’ Lize said pouring milk into the cups. ‘You were always so fond of telling me you could charge more for the house!’
‘Yes. I can and I will! Make no mistake about that my girl. And you needn’t think Louis will let you stay here once he’s back. If he’s thinking of inviting that Irish bitch to live over here permanently, you can bet your life he’s got other ideas in his mind.’
‘Like what exactly?’
‘You think you’re sitting pretty now don’t you? The older woman jabbed Lize in the shoulder with a finger. ‘But mark my words, Miss High and Mighty, you’ll laugh on the other side of your face one day. You’ll see. And you won’t be drawing his army pay for ever, you grabbing little bitch!’ She poked Lize again. ‘I brought him up! It’s me who should be reaping the benefit, not you.’ She pushed Lize. ‘All those years of putting up with your drunken father; spending every penny in the pub. Years of scraping money together to get some capital behind me ’cos he’d never provided it!’
Lize watched her mother’s lips opening and closing as she raged at her. She coldly met her mother’s gaze then turned her back and resumed buttering bread.
After a short while Lize very calmly turned to face her mother. ‘Oh and for your information Mum, the Irish bitch is already here!’
The back door opened and Cat came in. Lize stopped what she was doing and smiled at her.
‘Cat, this is my mother.’
Cat held out her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Ross.’
Jessie Ross stared at Cat; gave Lize a withering look, turned on her heel and marched out of the house.
‘Shut the door on your way out, Mum,’ Lize said.
Sighing, Lize put the bread on the plates. ‘Don’t take any notice of her, Cat. She can be really awkward when she chooses.’ She looked down at the children. ‘Come on now you two, eat up.’
Reggie picked up his toast and looked up at Lize with an innocent expression on his face and asked her.
‘Mum, who’s the Irish bitch?’
11
Monroe, Fethard
December 1914
Ned blew on his fingertips to warm them before beginning to dig out the rotten gatepost. As he worked his mind returned, as it always did, to Cat. He wondered what she was doing right now in London. Was she happy at Louis’ sister’s? Surely, he thought, she must miss them and would come home soon.
The postman called to him from the main road and said he had a letter from England, so Ned leaned the spade against the gate, wiped his hands on his trousers and hurried up the boreen to collect it. He was hardly able to contain his excitement as he saw Cat’s familiar handwriting and rushed back to the cottage to share the news with Maeve.
‘Maeve, we’ve a letter at last!’
‘Well read it man, g’w’on, read it!’ she said, wiping her hands on a towel.
Ned screwed up his eyes and began to read.
‘Seventeen Roydene Road, Plumstead, England. That’s the address, then she goes on to say,
“Dear Mummy and Dada
I have not been able to write before as it took a while to settle into my new accommodation and get into the swing of things.
I am, as you know, staying at Louis’ sister’s house, though it is not at the address given previously because she had moved by the time I arrived. The address at the top of this letter is where you should write to me.
The weather has been fine for this time of year, though I see little of the sun because I have two jobs.
My main job is at Woolwich Arsenal, where I am in the armaments shop packing bullets. This is fairly boring work, but it allows me time to sit and think of ye all at home. I was quite slow at first, but I am becoming quicker now. The more I pack, the more I earn.
The girls I work with are a friendly bunch, though it took me some time to understand what they were saying, and they me. I work from eight in the morning to six at night with a half hour for lunch. We have a uniform for work, so it does not matter too much what I wear, though my normal clothes seem very old fashioned over here. I shall have to spend a little on some new skirts and blouses, as I do not want to look as though I have just come from a field digging up potatoes.
My other job is taking care of the house and children for Louis’ sister, Lize who is a nurse in a hospital. She has been so kind to me. We have an arrangement that if I run the house and take care of the children, it allows her to work the nightshift at the hospital. In return I only have to pay her a very low rent.
It seems a good arrangement because it means I get to keep most of my earnings, so I shall be able to send you some money soon, Please God.
I have not seen Louis yet as he is still away, but I hope he will return soon.
Look after yourselves and love to all of you. Tell Ellie, if she’s thinking of following me to England, there’s plenty of work here for her. Just let me know.
I’ll write again soon, but until then, God bless ye both.
Your loving daughter, Cat.”’
Ned frowned and put the letter back in the envelope. ‘Well it looks as though she’s fallen on her feet,’ he said, scratching the back of his head. He was quiet for a while then said, ‘I’d better get back to work.’
He dared not look at Maeve for fear she would see the tears in his eyes and discover his vulnerability. He rose and walked slowly out of the cottage and across the yard to the gatepost he was replacing.
Suddenly he did not feel like bothering to mend it, and with a sigh, he dug into the black soil reluctantly and thought about Cat sitting in a dingy factory packing bullets. Jesus, is that what she’s been brought to, working in an old factory packing bullets? And what about when the war ends, what then? He thought she should be out in the fresh air with him now, digging up the spuds and laughing with him about some fresh joke.
Ned looked towards the Clashawly River and remembered the time before she left when they collected sallies in the sun last summer. It seemed so long ago.
Why was it he wondered, one child could twist up your heart so badly? The letter had upset him because he had hoped she would say she was homesick and was coming home.
Leaning on his spade staring into the distance, his thoughts were confused. What was the world coming to? Everything had gone topsy turvey. They’d had foreign soldiers sauntering about their streets, then his own countrymen had become savage murderers, his daughter frightened off overseas to live amongst a bunch of heathens and pack bullets for a living! It was not what he had planned.
Even Tom, he thought, was looking less enthusiastic these days, loafing about aimlessly after work. Ned decided the spark had gone out of their lives and that none of them had appreciated, until Cat had gone, that she was the axel in their machinery.
He had lost her for good and it hurt. It seemed she would probably never come home to live again unless something drastic happened or, he thought, if he demanded her return! But no. He could not do that, he needed another plan.
Tom appeared cycling along the main road, and then turned off to free wheel down the boreen towards Monroe. Ned waved and beckoned to him so Tom braked and dismounted, walking his bicycle to where Ned stood.
‘What’s up Dada? Are ye all right? Ye look a bit off colour.’
Ned drew himself up straight and dug in his pocket for cigarettes. Pulling out a packet he offered one to Tom and they lit up. ‘Tom, I want ye to go to England and bring her home.’
Tom looked at him, surprised by the request.
‘Dada, what’s got into ye?’
‘I just don’t like the way she’s livin’ out there with those heathens.’
‘Aw, c’mon now. How do ye know what she’s livin’ like, we haven’t heard from her yet?’
‘We had a letter today and I’m not satisfied she’s happy. She says she has two jobs, but neither are what I would have mapped out for her. She’s a country girl and she should be here with us courtin’ a nice Irish boy, not packin’ bullets from sun up to sun down in some old factory.’
‘ Ah! So that’s what she’s doin’?’
‘’Tis. As well as lookin’ after a house and the children for Louis’ sister. But that’s not the problem. ’Tis just that, well, if she’s lookin’ after other peoples’ children, she could be here lookin’ after some of her own.’
‘Ye cannot run her life for her, Dada. She’s gone now and whether she packs bullets or washes floors for a livin’ we have to accept it. She could not stay here. Not after what happened, ye know that.’
Ned didn’t want to listen to Tom’s reasoning and instead continued pouring out his thoughts to him.
‘We let her down. We could not defend her and I want to have a second chance at doin’ just that. So, Tom, I want ye to go over and fetch her back.’
Tom inhaled the cigarette smoke and looked at Ned. ‘I’ll think about it Dada, but I’m not sure ’tis the best idea ye’ve had.’
Ned stared into the distance at Slievenamon Mountain. ‘She loves this place.’ His lip quivered. ‘Yer mother cannot go on without her, ’tis killin’ her.’
‘Mummy has not said anythin’ to me.’
‘No, and she won’t. She’s too proud. But I can tell. And don’t ye go mentionin’ it to her. I know her better than anyone and I can tell ye, ’tis so!’
Tom looked away, embarrassed by the emotion in Ned’s voice. He started to wheel his bicycle away then stopped and turned back. ‘Ye know Dada, I get the feelin’ that Cat’s the only one ye worry about in this family.’
Ned looked at him, surprised by the remark, then took out his handkerchief and blew his nose.
‘What gives ye that idea?’
‘Ye constantly bleat on about missin’ all that Cat did for ye, when I do my very best after work to do all that she did, but ye never seem to notice all that I do.’
‘’Tis not so. And ye know it, Tom.’
‘I do not know it, and that’s the point. I just cannot seem to make up for her goin’ can I?’
‘Ye do fine son, ye do. I s’pose I just feel we let her down by not tryin’ harder to catch those swines. ’Tis me that cannot make it up, not ye.’
Ned turned away and busied himself digging out the gatepost as bitter tears slid down his face in the cold December wind.
12
Plumstead
Christmas 1914
Alone in her bedroom, Cat sat staring out of the window well into the evening. Rain hammered relentlessly down as the wind roared along the road and across the rooftops. She watched the trees thrashing about helplessly, their black arms appearing to reach out for mercy from the burgeoning storm.
She was thinking about home and smiled to herself, remembering how on nights such as this as children they all sat around the fire thinking up scary stories about the Banshee, trying to terrorise each other!
Suddenly she felt depressed as she remembered the sound of the train door slamming, and her family weeping on the railway platform the day she left Ireland. Cat buried her face in a pillow, hoping Lize would not hear her crying.
It was Christmas Day and she had gone to her bedroom early that evening, feeling she was intruding at the family gathering. Louis and Lize’s mother, and Lize’s mother-in-law had arrived that morning, and were now gathered in the parlour playing games. Every so often Cat could hear them shrieking with laughter and she felt the pain of being away from home.
Cat had realised her welcome had worn thin with Lize after the first couple of weeks. She felt Lize would prefer not to have her living there after all except, Cat reminded herself, that she was useful looking after the children and performing domestic duties.
