Many a Tear Has to Fall, page 27
‘Don’t you think I’ve spent enough time thinking about doing just that?’ said Maggie, reaching for another scone. ‘I’ve listened to what other people have said about Tommy. Perhaps I need to hear the truth from him now.’ Emma was silent as she refilled their teacups. ‘I can’t say I’m keen on speaking to the priest,’ continued Maggie. ‘When have I had anything to do with Catholic priests? I’ve had little enough to do with vicars in my own church.’
‘But you’ve met Father Francis at Nellie’s house when you went there with Betty and Irene.’
‘That was different. I hardly ever spoke to him.’
At that moment the kitchen door opened, and Owen appeared in the doorway. ‘We’re here!’ he cried.
Dot loomed up behind him with Georgie by the hand. His face was pressed against her skirt as she helped him up the step. ‘You’re back then, Mags,’ she said. ‘This is Georgie.’
Maggie thought it was a while since she had seen her sister looking so happy. ‘Hello, Georgie!’ Maggie hoped her voice sounded normal, because she was not feeling a bit like her normal self.
Owen skipped over to Maggie and rested an arm on her knee. ‘Have you brought me anything nice from town?’
‘Owen, you don’t ask,’ rebuked his mother.
‘Auntie Maggie doesn’t mind my asking if I give her a kiss.’ He smiled up at Maggie.
Despite her emotions being in turmoil, she could not prevent a smile and, putting an arm around her nephew, she bent over him and kissed his cheek. ‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ she said.
‘Now go and get changed,’ said his mother. ‘Then you and Georgie can watch television for half an hour.’
Owen said, ‘Auntie Maggie will be Georgie’s auntie as well, won’t she?’
‘She will,’ said Emma.
Georgie lifted his head and smiled shyly at Maggie, and she realized that next time she went into town she was going to have to buy two Dinky cars.
As soon as Maggie saw Jared, she could tell that he was not convinced that it was in Maggie’s best interest to see the priest.
‘Do you really want to find out what he has to say about a man who deceived you, or are you being pressurized into it?’
‘If I don’t go I’ll always wonder if I should have done.’
‘OK, I’ll take you there and pop in and see Marty and Irene at the same time. When you’ve finished, you can come round to theirs.’
She thought that suited her down to the ground.
Maggie had always enjoyed visiting the Gianellis’ house in the past because there was such a welcoming feel about the place, but as she stepped over the threshold that evening, her pulse was racing. She was shown into the front room. To her relief, Nellie’s brother did not look like a priest, but was dressed in dark blue corduroy trousers and a pale blue shirt, open at the neck. He looked much less intimidating in his casual clothes. He was helping one of the Gianelli children to do a jigsaw. Nellie told Maggie to sit down, beckoned her daughter out of the room and closed the door behind them.
Francis smiled at her. ‘It’s good to see you again, Maggie. You’re looking well.’ He reached into the pocket of the jacket hanging on the back of his chair and took out an envelope. ‘Tommy wanted me to give you this.’
Maggie gazed at the envelope and saw that her name and address were typewritten. ‘Why didn’t he just have it posted?’ she asked.
‘He wanted to make sure that you would definitely get it. It seems he has more faith in God than the Royal Mail.’
She glanced at him. ‘God? Tommy never gave me the impression that he was religious.’
Francis said gravely, ‘A near-death experience affects people in different ways.’
At the mention of near death, Maggie felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Tommy’s injuries. ‘Monica said that he was OK.’
‘He is, but it’s doubtful whether Tommy will ever be able to work as a motor mechanic again due to the damage to his pelvis.’
She turned the envelope over between her hands. ‘So what will he do?’
‘Read the letter. I think its contents will surprise you. I can leave you alone to read it now if you wish. You might want to give me a message to pass on to him.’
‘Thank you. I’ll do that.’
Francis stood up and left the room.
Maggie took a deep breath and slit the envelope open with a finger and removed several sheets of paper. The fact that they were typewritten surprised her. She placed them on the table next to the jigsaw puzzle and flattened them out and began to read.
Dear Maggie,
I know this letter is a long time coming but I honestly believed that you would never want to hear from me again. (Honestly! Maggie thought. Did he really know what ‘honesty’ meant?) Lately, though, I’ve had the impression from a couple of people that you might actually be prepared to read something that I have written. I’m hoping you will forgive me for my lack of communication and for a load of other stuff as well. Mainly for not being honest with you. If you’d had a father like mine, then you might have become a habitual liar like me. (Blaming someone else for something he should have controlled.) From the moment I broke a gas mantle when I was four years old and owned up to it and was whacked for my honesty, I thought twice about admitting to anything that seemed likely to result in punishment. Sometimes it was ignorance that got me into trouble, but other times I was just reckless and greedy. I’ve always run away when trouble stared me in the face and when stuck I’ve lied my way out of a fix. I’m a coward, and the only brave thing I’ve ever done was save little Johnny Schofield’s life. There are still times when I can’t believe that I actually risked my life for someone else.
Anyway, I didn’t intend to deceive you as much as I did. (Then you shouldn’t have done so, she thought crossly.) The name Timothy Murphy I adopted because I liked it, and believed if any of my enemies came looking for me they’d be trying to find me under the name Tommy McGrath. So I’d already reinvented myself before we met. As for the rest, I fancied you when we met on the train, so I wanted to impress you. When we got talking, I began to think that here was a girl out of the ordinary whom I was getting on with and I’d like to see again. I never intended it to get serious, but it did, and that was when I realized what a hole I had got myself into because sooner or later you’d want to see Jerry and meet my mother. (Too true, and you should have thought of that from the beginning.)
I told you that Jerry and I were going to stay with Mam because I did not doubt that if I told you the truth – that I was planning to dump him on my brother and sister – you would consider me a right selfish sod. Which I am. Even if I’d explained why I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, you probably wouldn’t have agreed with me. As for the truth about Bernie, that was so complicated, I couldn’t even begin to explain the ins and outs of it all to you.
The same with my getting involved with a gang of thieves. The truth about that was, when I was an apprentice on very little money, some of which I had to hand over to my father, my pockets were always to let. I liked to have money in my pocket to impress the girls, and so I was easily led astray. My having money impressed Bernie all right, and before I knew it we were married.
A big mistake. And now I come to my getting involved in borrowing cars. I would occasionally use one I had repaired, but return it to the garage in time for it to be collected by its owner the following day. Not long after Bernie and I were secretly married, I borrowed a car too many, and if I had not left Liverpool in a hurry, I would have ended up in prison sooner than I did for driving the getaway car in a robbery. So I escaped to Ireland and then went on to Australia.
I just didn’t have the guts to tell you about my past and being wanted by the police because I didn’t want you to know what a louse I was. At least you and I had some good times together. I would have liked them to last longer, but our Marty’s wedding put an end to that. I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with me after hearing the truth from those who know me best. I should have told you the truth myself. I’m sorry I hurt you.
She paused at this point and took several deep breaths before continuing reading.
Prison could be a lot worse. I’m reading more books than I’ve ever done and have learnt to type because some reporter said I’d had an interesting life, so I’m having a go at writing my adventures down with her help.
The judge took into consideration some of the time I spent in the prison hospital as part of my sentence. I was also given a shorter sentence than is normally meted out for my crime, and that means I’ll be out of here by Christmas 1961. The reason why he did so was due to certain mitigating circumstances, such as my bravery in saving little Johnny at the risk to my own life, as well as my having recently lost my wife and being left with a motherless little boy. I’d shaved off my beard and was wearing my best cherubic expression. The thought of spending years in prison frightened me to death, so I was hoping to rouse sympathy in the breasts of the women in the jury.
Maggie gave a twisted smile, easily able to imagine him doing so. He was incorrigible.
So, Maggie, I’ve been thinking a lot about what to do with the rest of my life, and I have this idea it should have something to do with music and writing. If I could work from home, I won’t need much help with Jerry now he’s at school. What with Marty’s wife Irene having a baby, I can’t be expecting her and my brother to continue taking care of Jerry. Besides which, the poor little sod wants to live with me. Marty showed him the newspaper cutting saying I was a hero. Jerry likes the thought of his dad being a hero. He knows I was injured and can’t do all that I used to, and wants to look after me. Kids, they can always surprise you.
Maggie smiled grimly, thinking she could agree with that all right. Knowing she must surely be nearing the end of the letter, she read on swiftly. So far there had been no mention of his having loved her and that he had once said that he would marry her.
This next piece of news will surprise you and I hope you’ll be pleased for me. Due to our Peggy’s husband Pete managing to remember the licence-plate number of the hit-and-run car, the bobbies traced the driver who, as it turned out, had been drinking. Anyway, his insurance company has paid me a large sum of money because of my injuries, which means Jerry and I should be all right for dosh for a while when I get out of prison. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to write a bestseller. I’ve also thought of writing music reviews for the newspapers. And I am planning to have my name changed by deed poll – it will be a clean slate for this Timothy Murphy!
I wouldn’t mind seeing you again, Maggie, if that’s not asking too much? I still have feelings for you.
Tim
Maggie folded the letter with trembling fingers and placed the sheets of paper in the envelope. No mention of love, only that he wouldn’t mind seeing her again and that he still had feelings for her.
She left the room, guessing that she would find Father Francis in the kitchen, so she went in that direction. He was sitting at the table with his sister and her husband, drinking sherry.
‘Would you like a glass, Maggie?’ Nellie asked.
‘No, thanks. Jared is waiting for me at Marty and Irene’s and I know he likes to spend some time with Owen at bedtime.’
‘I’ll see you out, Maggie,’ said Francis, getting up.
He accompanied her to the front door. ‘Is there any message you’d like me to pass on to Tommy?’ he asked.
‘Thank him for his letter, and tell him I need to think over what he has said before I reply to it.’
Francis nodded. ‘I’ll tell him that. Is there anything more you’d like to ask me?’
‘No thank you.’ She walked off down the drive and took out Tommy’s letter and reread it as she made her way to the Leeds–Liverpool canal and across the bridge. By the time she reached the library, her eyes were sparkling as she read snippets of it for the third time, trying to imagine what he had really been thinking when he had written certain passages. This reporter who apparently was going to help him write his book, was she another woman he had charmed?
Irene opened the front door to her. ‘Everything all right?’ she asked, sounding as if she really cared.
Maggie did not answer. ‘How’s Marty?’
Irene led the way up the lobby. ‘You can see for yourself how he is. I could kill that Dermot.’
‘I don’t blame you for feeling like that,’ said Maggie.
Irene ushered her into the kitchen. Jared looked at Maggie. ‘Are you all right?’
She nodded and glanced at Marty, who had his leg up, his foot resting on a pouffe. ‘How is your leg?’
Marty shrugged. ‘Fortunately it isn’t broken, but he chipped the bone with his great big hobnailed boot and my leg is swollen. But I’ll survive.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. He was horrible. I’m glad that Josh almost choked the life out of him.’
‘Sit down, Maggie,’ said Irene. ‘You’re looking done in.’
Maggie sank on to the sofa. ‘It’s been a bit of a day.’
‘Would you like a sherry?’ Irene asked.
‘Thanks.’
‘What did the priest have to say?’ asked Jared.
‘You don’t have to talk about it in front of us if you’d rather keep it to yourself,’ Marty said swiftly.
‘He didn’t say much, just gave me a letter from Tommy, although he signed it Tim.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He’s changing his name to Timothy Murphy by deed poll. Also, the letter was typed. Did you know he could use a typewriter, Marty?’
‘I knew he was learning to type.’
Irene handed a glass of sherry to her.
Maggie downed the sherry in one go. ‘There was a lot in his letter. Did you know he’s writing a book?’
‘No!’ Irene stared at Marty in astonishment. ‘Did you know? Peggy hasn’t mentioned it.’
‘He hasn’t mentioned it to me either,’ Marty said, shaking his head. ‘Did he say what it was about, Maggie?’
‘His life so far. Apparently some woman reporter told him he’d had an interesting one.’ Maggie toyed with the sherry glass.
‘Sounds just like Tommy. Full of himself,’ said Irene. ‘More sherry, Maggie?’
Maggie held out her glass. ‘He did go half across the world to Australia when he was on the run from the police, and admits that he was led astray by a desire for money because the girls like a bloke who had money to spend,’ she said softly. ‘Then, of course, he could have women readers reaching for their hankies because his wife died young, leaving him with a child to care for. Then, on top of all that, he hit the headlines saving a little boy’s life at the risk of his own and suffered injuries and, because of that, he ended up in hospital and prison.’ She sipped the sherry that Irene had poured into her glass.
The two men glanced at each other and raised their eyebrows.
Irene said, ‘You sound sorry for him.’
‘Do I?’ Maggie shrugged.
‘Where do Marty and I come in this book he’s writing?’ asked Irene.
‘He didn’t say, but I’m sure you will come into it,’ said Maggie. ‘Maybe I will, too. Of course, he’ll probably fictionalize parts of it, but it sounds like it could be a warts-and-all story because most likely he believes nobody wants to read about a goody two-shoes.’
‘You’ve got it all worked out,’ said Jared, staring at his sister as if seeing her for the first time.
‘Have I?’ She was not so sure. In fact, her emotions were in turmoil.
‘Did he say he was sorry for lying to you and hurting you? That to me is the most important thing he should have said in his letter.’
‘Yes, he did. He made excuses for his behaviour, but I expected that, and don’t we all make excuses when we’ve done wrong?’ said Maggie, draining the sherry glass.
‘I hate to admit it, but I can’t help but admire his having a go at something completely different,’ said Marty. ‘He’s not going to be able to fix cars again, and the money he’s been awarded for his injuries won’t last forever.’
‘You can’t admire him!’ cried Irene. ‘After all the trouble and embarrassment he’s caused you and the family!’
Marty shrugged. ‘There have been times when I’d like to throttle him, but then I’m no saint.’
There was silence.
Jared said, ‘Time we went, Mags, if I’m to read Owen a story before he goes to sleep.’
Maggie stood up. ‘Thanks for the sherry. I hope your leg gets better soon, Marty.’
‘Don’t be a stranger, Maggie,’ he said, reaching out to her.
They shook hands.
On the way home, her brother said to Maggie, ‘I hope you can draw a line under this whole thing to do with Marty’s brother now, Mags.’
Maggie rested her head against the back of the car seat. ‘Shall we drop it for now? As I said earlier, it’s been a bit of a day.’
Jared glanced at her. ‘You aren’t feeling sorry for him, are you?’
She glanced at him. ‘What d’you think?’
‘I don’t know what to think. I mean, Marty admitting that he can’t help admiring his brother – after all he’s done – took me by surprise! He needs his bumps feeling.’
Maggie yawned. ‘I’m tired.’
‘You need a holiday. We’ve forgotten you originally came home from London because you were ill. I mean, what were you thinking of, making Eccles cakes for all and sundry?’
‘I enjoy baking. It’s soothing. I’ll enjoy getting away to the cottage this weekend, so don’t fuss.’
‘OK, as long as you take note of what I’ve said and don’t have anything more to do with Tommy McGrath,’ he said. ‘After all, he’s not the only pebble on the beach now, is he?’
Thirty
Maggie was rolling out pastry when she heard the telephone ringing. She had been at the cottage a fortnight and, although she had been kept busy at the weekends, weekdays were quieter, giving her plenty of time to think about Tommy’s letter, which she had yet to answer. The questions she kept asking herself were: Did one good deed make up for a number of bad ones? And was the writer of the letter the real Tommy McGrath or the make-believe Timothy Murphy? Soon she was going to have to come to a decision as to whether she needed to visit him or not.
