Many a Tear Has to Fall, page 10
She raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m not a kid! I’ll be twenty next birthday and I’ve lived on my own for several years.’
‘I’m still your guardian,’ he said firmly. ‘I have to look out for you until you’re twenty-one.’
Maggie rolled her eyes and said no more on the subject, but instead asked if anyone wanted a cup of tea and went and put the kettle on, thinking of her next date with Tim and wondering how his mother was coping with Jerry and if, when the weather improved, he might suggest them taking his son out for the day. She was certain the break from her grandson would do Tim’s mother a power of good.
Eleven
Mary McGrath gazed through the kitchen window at her grandson, who was kicking a ball about in Marty’s backyard with her granddaughter, Josie. She glanced at Marty. ‘I can’t believe you still haven’t told Bernie’s mother that her daughter’s dead and Jerry is living with you.’
‘It’s a difficult thing to tell a mother,’ said Irene.
‘That I can agree with,’ said Mary. ‘But it’s no excuse. She needs to know. I’m feeling really on edge about it all.’
Marty turned on her. ‘Why are you worrying? It’s our Tommy who’s to blame. I’m bloody annoyed with him!’
‘Don’t swear, son,’ said his mother, clicking her tongue against her teeth. ‘It doesn’t sound nice.’
‘You can’t blame him for getting angry, Mam,’ said Peggy. ‘How would you have felt if Jerry had turned up on your doorstep out of the blue with a note from Tommy asking you to look after his son?’
‘He must have been really stuck about what to do,’ Mary said.
‘You know why he didn’t come to you, don’t you?’ continued Peggy. ‘It’s because he knew our Lil wouldn’t have tolerated having Jerry staying at your house.’
‘Her baby is due soon,’ said Mary. ‘You can’t blame her, and our Tommy will have thought about her being pregnant.’
‘Tommy doesn’t know Lil’s having a baby, just like he doesn’t know I’m expecting now,’ said Peggy hesitantly.
Her mother stared at her. ‘That’s news! When did this happen?’
Peggy said, ‘It’ll be here in time for Christmas.’
Mary took a deep breath. ‘A Christmas baby.’ She smiled. ‘Congratulations, love.’ She kissed her daughter, but within minutes recommenced talking about Tommy. ‘Anyway, Tommy probably gave thought to me no longer being a spring chicken.’
‘I suppose there could be something in what you say, but it’s more likely he didn’t want to face you,’ said Peggy, spooning sugar into her tea. ‘The least he could have done was to write to Bernie’s mother or one of her sisters or brothers, himself. He must have one of their addresses.’
Mary reached in her pocket and took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘I know what your father would say if he was here,’ she said in a muffled voice.
‘Never mind what Dad might have said,’ Peggy muttered. ‘Our Tommy mightn’t have turned out the way he did if it wasn’t for the way Dad treated him. It’s Marty who has to make the decisions in the family now, so don’t you be telling anyone about any of this, Mam.’
Mary’s head shot up. ‘You don’t have to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, our Peggy! I won’t go gossiping. We’ve all suffered in this family because of what Bernie did. Your father was not to blame for that!’
Marty looked up at the ceiling but kept his peace.
‘Still, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead,’ continued his mother. ‘As for that family of hers, maybe it’s best to let them live in ignorance if that’s what you and Marty think is best.’
‘It’s what Pete’s mother thinks,’ Peggy said.
‘Enough, both of you,’ said Marty.
But his mother could not shut up. ‘What about Father Francis?’ She drummed her fingernails on the table.
‘Marty has already spoken to him,’ said Irene, who so far had kept out of the discussion.
‘Have you, son?’
Marty nodded. ‘He’s of the opinion that only by my producing the death certificate could we speed things up. Obviously our Tommy gave no thought to providing me with evidence that Bernie really is dead.’
His mother clicked her tongue against her teeth again. ‘He doesn’t know about you and Irene wanting to get married, does he?’
‘No, but he should have thought her mother and sisters might want proof of her death.’
‘I’ve just thought there’s another possibility as to why he hasn’t given you proof,’ said Peggy, her eyes alight. ‘Bernie might have left him and Jerry and not be dead after all?’
There was a stunned silence.
Then Irene said, ‘But that would mean Tommy’s letter was a pack of lies.’
‘But it could be the reason why her mother and sisters haven’t ever been round here asking if we’ve heard from our Tommy. Bernie could have been in touch with them and told them a pack of lies,’ said Mary.
Before anyone could comment on this latest thought, there was a noise at the back door. A moment later, Josie appeared. ‘Jerry’s burst the ball on a sticky-out nail,’ she said.
Jerry came up behind her. ‘It wasn’t my fault. It was hers.’
‘Who does he sound like?’ said Peggy, shaking her head.
Neither her brother nor mother bothered saying ‘his father’. ‘We have to find Tommy, and the sooner the better,’ Marty said firmly.
Jerry gazed up at him. ‘You don’t have to go looking for my other daddy. He said he’d come back when he’s made lots of money. You wait and see, he’ll be here.’
‘That’s just it, sunshine,’ said Marty emphatically. ‘I don’t want to wait and see. If I took you to London, would you be able to find the house where you stayed when you were living there?’
Jerry frowned. ‘Dunno. But the lady might know.’
‘What lady?’ asked his grandmother, looking surprised.
‘The lady on the train. She and other daddy talked a lot,’ said Jerry.
Mary turned to Marty. ‘Has Jerry mentioned this lady before?’
‘No.’ Marty frowned down at Jerry. ‘This lady – did she get on the train with you and your other daddy?’
Jerry shook his head. ‘She was sitting in the carriage already.’
‘So they didn’t know each other?’
Jerry nodded and then shook his head.
‘Which d’you mean? Yes or no?’ asked Marty, exasperated.
‘I fink they’d seen each other before.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘She said he’d helped her pick up some cigarettes she dropped and mentioned his beard.’
‘Holy Mother of God!’ exclaimed Peggy. ‘Our Tommy has grown a beard. I bet he thinks he won’t be recognized now when he visits Liverpool again.’
‘He won’t look like my little boy any more,’ said Mary dolefully. ‘I’ve never liked beards.’
‘He’s not a little boy, Mam,’ snapped Peggy.
Marty sighed. ‘Jerry, d’you remember anything else the lady and your other daddy talked about?’
The boy screwed up his face.
‘Think hard, Jerry,’ His grandmother said coaxingly. ‘And I’ll buy you something nice.’
‘What?’ he asked immediately.
‘A Dinky car for your collection,’ Peggy suggested. ‘And I’ll buy you some sweeties.’
‘Can I have some sweeties too?’ asked Josie.
‘Hush, love,’ said her grandmother absently.
‘Well, Jerry?’ asked Marty.
He heaved a sigh. ‘She wore a lovely long frock like a princess in a pantomime.’
‘Never mind that!’ said Marty. ‘What did they say to each other?’
‘He told her he’d swam in the canal.’
‘What would he tell her that for?’ asked Peggy, looking surprised.
They all stared at Jerry, who chewed on his lip.
‘Is that all?’ asked his grandmother.
Jerry blew out a breath and then he smiled. ‘He told her that he jumped off a sand hill. Did you know he did that, when he was a little boy like me? I’d like to do that.’
‘Now why would he be telling her about stuff he did as a child?’ asked Irene.
‘With his conceit, he was probably telling her his life story to pass the time,’ Peggy suggested sarcastically.
‘I don’t remember ever taking him anywhere where your father would have allowed him to go jumping off sand hills,’ said Mary.
‘He could have gone with some of his mates,’ Marty muttered.
‘I don’t see how this is going to help us find him,’ said Irene.
‘Do I get my Dinky car and sweets?’ asked Jerry.
‘We’ll see,’ said his grandmother.
‘We can always try that place in London where they keep the records of births, marriages and deaths to get a death certificate,’ said Irene, wanting desperately to know for certain whether Bernie was alive or dead. ‘We know Bernie’s married name and that she was living in London at the time she died, so that’s a start.’
‘I told the lady that my mummy was in Heaven,’ said Jerry.
‘She’ll be lucky being allowed through the pearly gates,’ Mary muttered.
Ignoring that comment, Irene said, ‘It would be a real help if Jerry could remember what was happening the day his mummy went to Heaven.’
‘He won’t remember,’ said Peggy. ‘He’s only a child.’
‘I do remember!’ cried Jerry. ‘I wanted my mummy and I couldn’t go and see her ’cos it was foggy outside. Really, really foggy. Other daddy said he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face.’
Peggy groaned. ‘So what? I bet they have loads of foggy days in London town. There’s even a song about it. This isn’t getting us anywhere.’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ said Irene, her eyes alight. ‘I bet if we were to get in touch with Maggie Gregory, she’d remember a day that was worse than any other a couple of months or so ago.’
‘Maybe, maybe not,’ said Peggy.
A silence fell.
‘What about my sweeties?’ asked Jerry, tugging on Peggy’s arm.
She stood up and held out a hand to him. ‘Come on, then, let’s go to the sweet shop.’
‘What about my Dinky car, too?’ he asked.
‘You’re going to have to wait for that,’ said his grandmother. ‘You carry on thinking, and see if you can remember anything else your other daddy might have said to the lady on the train.’
Marty and Irene exchanged glances which spoke volumes of their belief in their chances of getting married any sooner than they first had hoped.
Twelve
Maggie hurried across Lime Street in the direction of the Empire, hoping that Tim would be on time so they could be in their seats before the curtain went up.
She was pleased to see that he was standing outside the theatre. She thought that was another tick in his favour. His being early at the meeting place last week was not a one-off. She liked a man who didn’t keep a girl waiting.
‘You all right?’ he asked, pulling her hand through his arm.
‘Yes. How has work been?’
‘Still busy, I’m glad to say. It could be that I’ll eventually have to hire someone,’ he said, heading towards the theatre entrance.
‘That’s great! I couldn’t be more pleased for you. Would you say that the automobile is here to stay then?’ she teased as they entered the foyer.
‘I’d bet on it. I reckon the day will come when most families will have a car. The government is going to have to build more motorways to cope. One of my customers told me about the Preston by-pass, which opened just before Christmas, and another motorway is being built between London and Leeds. It’ll be a while before that’s finished, though.’
‘My brother has a van and a car,’ Maggie said as they joined the queue to show their tickets. ‘He has his own building business. He and my sister-in-law and nephew have gone up to their cottage in the country this weekend. I was invited to go with them but I told them I had a date.’
‘So did your brother ask who with?’
She hesitated. ‘Yes, but I-I didn’t say too much. He’s my guardian and can be a bit over-protective.’
‘Why would you need a guardian?’ Tim asked.
‘Because I’m under age and my mother left me some money.’ She pulled a face. ‘My mother didn’t trust me to be sensible, so she tied some of it up in a trust fund until I’m twenty-one.’
He gazed at her. ‘But the way you look, he doesn’t keep you short.’
‘He gives me an allowance but he’s not over-generous and I did earn enough money while modelling to pay my way and afford the odd treat most of the time.’
‘You always look like a million dollars, and I appreciate you treating me this evening.’
She laughed. ‘You treated me last week. But I’m soon going to have to be very careful about what I spend until I find another job.’
He bought a programme from an usherette and they followed several people into the auditorium. Their seats were in the mid-stalls and they managed to sit down as the safety curtain went up.
‘Just in time,’ he whispered in her ear.
Maggie enjoyed the concert as much if not slightly more than The Merry Widow, because she was sharing the experience with a companion who appeared to be enjoying the acts that were supporting Paul Anka, who was at the top of the bill. There was an impressionist, a magician, a ventriloquist, a comedian and a singing and dancing double act, as well as the Canadian pop singer, who wowed the audience with his renditions of ‘Diana’, ‘Don’t Gamble with Love’ and ‘All Of a Sudden My Heart Sings’.
Maggie was delighted that not once had Tim said that he would have preferred an evening of jazz at the Cavern to that evening’s concert.
‘I like a variety show, don’t you?’ she said as they left the theatre.
‘They were all good,’ said Tim. ‘Shall we go and have an oyster and champagne supper at Connolly’s?’ he suggested. ‘My treat this time.’
Maggie groaned. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I come out in a rash if I eat shellfish.’
‘Hell, that’s a shame,’ he said.
‘Isn’t it just! I go all blotchy and I’m not a pretty sight,’ she said ruefully.
‘Then what would you like to eat?’ he asked.
‘I love duck the way the Chinese do it.’
‘Then let’s go to the Cathay on Renshaw Street.’ He took her hand and tucked it into his arm. ‘I think I’ll have a curry.’
‘Have you looked up any of your old friends since you’ve been back?’ asked Maggie.
‘I’ve been too preoccupied with work.’
‘But you might bump into someone sooner or later,’ she said.
He shrugged. ‘If I’m honest I’d rather not. Probably you don’t remember what it was like here during the war and afterwards. It was all a bit … chaotic. Some of us went a bit wild at times and got into mischief. I want to put those times behind me. I want a different kind of life now.’
‘You mean now you’re a father and have Jerry to consider?’
He nodded.
She would have liked to have known more about the younger Tim, but obviously he didn’t want to talk about the old days. ‘How is Jerry? Are he and your mother getting used to each other now?’
‘As much as they ever will. It will be better for both of them when he starts school.’ He changed the subject. ‘So this cottage you mentioned belonging to your brother and his wife, where is it?’
‘Actually, it belongs to Emma. It’s in Whalley, near Clitheroe, and come Whit week I’ll be going up there with them. My brother extended the cottage so there’s more room for her to cater for hikers and visitors to the ruined abbey nearby.’
‘When you say cater …?’
‘She does lunches and teas for passing trade, and also sells her jams and pickles and knitted garments, such as witch dolls.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Witch dolls?’
‘She doesn’t call them that, any more, but you’ve heard of the Pendle witches, haven’t you?’
‘No.’
They had reached Lewis’s corner and stood a moment under the statue of Sir Jacob Epstein’s Liverpool Resurgent, unveiled in 1956 to celebrate Lewis’s centenary. It was a favourite meeting place for shoppers and courting couples alike, although the nude statue was seldom given its official title by Liverpudlians.
‘I’d never heard of them either until Emma came on the scene. She calls them wise women sometimes, and makes up little bags of herbs and recipes to go with them. If you’re interested, I’ll borrow Emma’s book and you can read up about them.’
‘No thanks, I have no time to read,’ said Tim. ‘She must make some money out of them to go to all that trouble.’
‘I think she must. We seldom discuss the subject. I suppose if I was to help her with the business, then I’d need to know more about it.’
‘D’you think it’s likely you’ll be getting involved?’
She did not immediately answer because they had arrived at the Cathay, so went inside. Fortunately the restaurant had begun to empty out after the mid-evening rush and they were shown to a table by the window.
After ordering their meals and drinks, they talked about the show they had seen, and naturally that led on to a conversation about their favourite pop music. By the time their meals arrived they were on to films. As they ate, he told her that he watched scarcely any television, as his mother didn’t have a set, and neither had there been one in the flat in London. The only programme he said that he regretted not seeing was The Quatermass Experiment, because he had heard from one of his customers that it was good and he liked science-fiction.
It was while Tim was ordering more drinks that Maggie glanced out of the window and saw Pete and Peggy Marshall walking on the other side of the road. For a moment she thought of knocking on the window to draw their attention, but then she changed her mind, realizing it was highly likely that they would catch sight of Tim and ask questions. She noticed that they had stopped outside Pollard’s, the childwear shop.
‘What are you staring at?’ asked Tim.
