A Mother's Spirit (40 page)

For a moment he remembered the Christmas party where he had been given a ball, and the gift had been spoiled for him because he had seen his mother kissing one of the sailors from the camp. Now, looking back on it, a kiss didn’t seem half as bad as what she had done later, and he’d had to learn to accept that in time. Anyway, a ball was still a ball, and the finest one he had ever seen. It made him a very popular boy indeed and secured him a place in any game going.

His mother had also bought him a shiny brown satchel for grammar school and it hung on the back of his door. Every day when Ben saw it he felt a thrill of pride. Sometimes, though, he would have a shiver of fear that he might have failed the second part of the exam, which had been harder than the first. He really wanted to pass, not only for himself but to make his parents proud of him, and he knew that he would know soon because the results would be out the week after the school closed for the summer.

Kevin left school for good that July and was anxious to start working life straight away, but Molly insisted he had some time off first. ‘Once you start you will be working until you’re sixty-five and, believe me, the novelty will soon wear off. Spend some time with Ben. Try and take his mind off those results that will be out any day now.’

Kevin didn’t mind that at all because he was really fond of his young cousin and they went into the city centre one day to look at the bomb damage, which was considerable. The Bull Ring was still there, but not quite the same, and the shops still had little in them.

‘I suppose it will take time to get back to normal, like Paul said on VE Day,’ Kevin told Ben.

‘Bound to. I reckon it will take years to get it back the way it was.’

‘Molly said that it will never be the same again,’ Kevin said. ‘She said the world will have changed and moved on, and there is really no point in looking back to the way things were.’

‘I suppose not.’

‘She can’t wait for the war to be over properly and for Mark to be home again,’ Kevin said. ‘Because until the Japanese cave in, as far as the RAF are concerned, the war is not over.’

‘Well, there is no sign of that,’ Ben said. ‘Dad said it could go on for years yet.’

‘God, I hope not.’

‘Me too.’

‘Come on,’ Kevin said. ‘Let’s go home and go up the park. There is nothing to see here.’

‘All right,’ Ben said. ‘And I haven’t got to be home till about half five. Aunt Izzy is coming round to cook the dinner, but that’s about the time Dad’s home.’

‘Come on then,’ Kevin said. ‘That’s ages yet and Molly’s given me some money for chips for both of us.’

‘Oh boy, that’s even better news.’

Ben got home that evening before his father, and Isobel came out from the kitchen when she heard the door. ‘There’s a letter for your father from the Education Department,’ she said. ‘I’ve put it behind the clock.’

‘Is it the results, d’you think?’

‘Can’t think of any other reason they’d be writing to him, can you?’

Ben shook his head. He felt as if a large stone had lodged itself in his stomach and he looked at Isobel with eyes full of foreboding. ‘What if I haven’t passed?’

‘You probably have,’ Isobel said. ‘You have certainly worked hard enough. But if you haven’t it won’t be the end of the world, will it? I mean, the world won’t stop spinning on its axis or anything.’

‘I want Mom and Dad to be proud of me.’

Isobel held Ben’s shoulders gently as she said, ‘They are proud of you, Ben. A child does not have to do something to make their parents proud, and that won’t change if you have failed your eleven plus.’

For all her encouraging words, though, Isobel hoped that Ben had passed, not for her own sake, but because it mattered so much to him. She was as anxious to hear Joe’s key in the door as Ben was, but she hid it better.

Eventually, though, he was there, and strode across the room, took the letter from behind the clock and split it open straight away. Ben’s eyes were full of trepidation as he watched his father scanning the sheet of paper he had withdrawn from the envelope. Then Joe threw down the paper and lifted Ben high in the air. ‘You’ve done it, you clever, clever boy,’ he cried. ‘You have passed.’

All through the meal, Ben felt as if he was floating on air. He knew he had pleased his father because he couldn’t stop going on about it, and even Isobel had hugged him tight and told him how proud she was too, and he felt warmed by their so obvious happiness at his achievement. It didn’t matter a jot that he hadn’t got his first choice of St Philip’s and that he would be going to Bishop Vesey, and Joe was relieved that he wouldn’t be facing such a long journey morning and evening.

After the meal, Ben said, ‘I will write to Mom now, if you don’t mind. I want to do it when I am really excited so she might be able to feel it a bit.’

‘I don’t mind in the least,’ Joe said. ‘I have to go home with Isobel anyway.’

‘You don’t, Joe,’ Isobel said.

‘Oh yes I do,’ Joe contradicted. ‘So no argument.’

It was as they were going to the bus stop, arm in arm, that Joe suddenly said, ‘I can’t believe it. My boy going to grammar school.’

‘He deserved it,’ Isobel said. ‘He worked hard.’

‘Yeah, he did,’ Joe agreed. ‘I’ve saved all my clothing coupons and most of his to get him fitted out with the uniform.’

‘They’ll likely have sales at the school,’ Isobel said. ‘They’ll know the situation as well as the rest of us.’

‘I’d not want him to start in second-hand clothes,’ Joe said rather stiffly.

‘Will you listen to yourself?’ Isobel said. ‘Surely it’s the quality of education that is important, not the clothes. Anyway, Kevin wore a uniform of sorts, though not as stringent as that of a grammar school, and every night he had to take it off and hang it up. His uniform was always the better-looking of his clothes. He always grew out of them before they were worn out though sometimes the trousers took a bit of a pasting. Anyway, Ben will need other clothes as well as his uniform, so how are you going to get those if you have used up his supply of coupons?’

‘I don’t know anything about all this,’ Joe admitted. ‘Will you give me a hand when the time comes?’

‘Of course I will,’ Isobel said. ‘And here is the bus at last.’

Unless the weather was very cold or wet, they got off the tram at the edge of Pype Hayes Park and walked across, then skirted the golf course. It was their chance to be together, because they had already decided that there would be no canoodling in front of Ben.

They walked hand in hand through the park that warm and balmy evening and suddenly Isobel sighed and said, ‘I am so happy, Joe, but I wish the war would end totally very soon. Molly is concerned about Mark and I don’t blame her. After all, it is the first of August on Wednesday.’

‘Well, I don’t know what they would have to do to Japan to force surrender,’ Joe said.

Only a few days later, on 6 August, the Americans dropped an atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima, killing an estimated
seventy-eight thousand people. It sent shock waves all around the world. It was hard even to visualise so many killed by one bomb.

Everyone expected Japan to surrender, but when there was no response, another bomb was released over Nagasaki on 9 August and it was estimated that that one killed thirty-five thousand.

Now surely Japan would bend to the inevitable. No country could just stand by and see so many of its people killed. As Isobel said, ‘We have made and released a devouring monster and it could be justified only if it brought a speedy end to the war that had already claimed so many young lives.’

But it didn’t. The world looked on in disbelief as there was still no response from Japan, and so on 13 August, Allied aircraft launched a huge attack on Tokyo, and Japan surrendered the next day.

‘The war is finally over, but at what cost to the Japanese people?’ Isobel said a few days later scrutinising the newspaper.

‘We can do nothing about the decisions governments make,’ Joe said.

‘I know.’

‘And the Japanese were the aggressors.’

‘I know that too,’ Isobel said. ‘Don’t mind me. I am totally out of sorts today.’

‘Anything I can do to help?’

She smiled. ‘You help by just being there. But I would love to go for a walk, if Ben doesn’t mind?’

‘Why should I mind?’ Ben said. ‘I got a couple of good books from the library today, as it happens.’

‘I’ll likely not be too late,’ Joe said, ‘though I might as well take Isobel home while I am about it.’

‘That’s OK,’ Ben said.

Isobel had come to a decision. They had barely reached the street when she said, ‘You don’t have to take me home every night, you know.’

‘We’ve been through this, Isobel.’

‘I’m not talking of me going home on my own,’ Isobel said. ‘I am talking of the fact that I have a three-bedroomed bungalow that I rattle round in, which is plenty big enough for all of us.’

‘I couldn’t take that offer, much as I would like to,’ Joe said. ‘If I moved in with you I would ruin your reputation.’

‘I don’t care about that.’

‘You must care.’

‘I don’t, honestly,’ Isobel said. ‘Once I craved respectability above all else, but it is a very cold bedfellow. One thing this war has taught me is that life is very short and you have just the one crack at it. We really shouldn’t waste any of what we have and live life to the full. Both of us should have this second chance of happiness but I would put no pressure on you. If you didn’t want to share a room with me until you are free, I would understand that.’

‘And what would you do if I did that?’

‘I would wait for you until you were ready.’

‘You would do that for me?’

‘Yes.’

‘But what are you getting out of this?’ Joe said. ‘What do you want, Isobel?’

‘I want to make you happy,’ Isobel said simply. ‘And I would do whatever that takes. I would welcome you into my bed, if that is what you wanted.’

‘You’re not worried about making a name for yourself?’

‘Not in the slightest,’ she said emphatically.

Joe looked at her incredulously, hardly able to believe that, after Gloria, he could love another person so much, or so deeply, and he held her tight as he said, ‘Oh Isobel, you are very special, and my own darling, darling girl, and you have achieved your objective, because you have made me happy. In fact, you have made me the happiest man in the world.’

Hi to all my readers. Many of you have written following the publication of
A Daughter’s Secret
in March 2008, saying how much you enjoyed hearing stories about the Sullivan family whom you had met in
A
Sister’s
Promise
. I hope
A
Mother’s Spirit
is no exception.

This is Joe’s story. As the second son he knows the farm will never be his and after his father’s death he strikes out for New York to find his fortune in this brave new world, that promises so much.

Research for this book has been quite phenomenal. Having not had the funds or time to visit New York, I had to rely heavily on the internet. I also used books such as
The Search for Prosperity
by Richard Garrett which deals with emigration from Britain between the years 1815–1930;
Modern America
by Chris McDonald and Jon Nichol goes back to the First World War and traces America’s progress through the years.

Joe arrived in 1921; I had to research Ellis Island where all the steerage passengers were first sent. They had to pass a medical and have a good understanding of English and be able to pass some basic tests before they were allowed on American soil. Prohibition was in operation then too, so that had to be researched and as Joe arrived in November, I had to look into Thanksgiving, the reason for it and the special food prepared. Once Gloria was finished with school, I had
to delve into the world of the flappers of the 1920s. There was a terrific amount of entertainment to be had in New York at the time and apart from the movies the most popular amongst the young were the dance halls. There girls danced the daring charleston and the shimmy and wore dresses just below, or shockingly just above, the knee and many wore heavy cosmetics, smoked and had their hair bobbed.

It was a fascinating insight into America. I cannot claim this as an original thought of mine, but a fellow writer once said that ‘research for a book is like the iceberg effect’. Although the writer has to know as much as possible about a subject to write about it convincingly, the reader is fed only a little of that information, which is blended into the story.

Research about pre-war London and London during the blitz also proved more difficult than I had anticipated and my lovely editor helped there. I also used maps and street plans and the books
London Life in the Post War Years
by Douglas Whitworth and
30s and 40s Britain
by John Guy.

I had already done a lot of research on Ireland and the farm that Joe and Gloria returned to, as this is the third book in the series, but I did dip into
Rekindling a Dying
Heritage
by Evelyn Ruddy, which I have used many times before. I also skimmed
The Donegal Corridor
by Joe O’Loughlin and relied heavily on
An Atlantic Memorial
–
The Foyle and Western Approaches 1939–1945
, now threadbare I have used it so often. It documents Derry through the war years and the American service men that lived in Springtown Camp. Last but my no means least I used
Sutton
Coldfield in the Forties
by John Bassett, although I still remember much of how Sutton Coldfield was as I grew up just beside it in the late 1950s, and later lived there for 14 years before moving to North Wales.

So that was it and another book is born, but the series wouldn’t have begun at all if it hadn’t been for my very astute agent suggesting it in the first place. Thanks, Judith. Immense
thanks must also go to the great team at HarperCollins, like my editor Susan Opie and Yvonne Holland for the terrific job they did on the copy-edits and my publicist Kiera Godfrey. The book would be a much poorer one without them, believe me. So thank you all so much.

And I must not forget Judith Evans, who is in charge of all the bookshops in Birmingham International Airport, and Peter Hawtin, regional sales manager at HarperCollins, who together were instrumental in my writing for the publishing house in the first place. Thank you both. I would also like to say hi to my dear friend Judith Kendall, who reads everything I write and says that a packet of tissues should be given away with each book. I suppose that could be arranged.

My family is very special to me, my son and three daughters, their relevant partners and their families. I love them all so much, although I am quite horrified that my beautiful grand-daughter was old enough to take her GCSEs this year, and that her
little
brother is off to secondary school after the holidays. Even the baby of the family, seven-year-old Theo, the one that this book is dedicated to, will join his brother in the juniors in September. I must be getting old, for the days just seem to gallop past at an alarming rate.

My husband Denis needs a particular mention and special thanks because he is my rock. He helps and supports me in so many ways and probably knows me better than anyone, and yet he’s still around – amazing! I am so glad that I married him all those years ago.

Heartfelt thanks though go to you, the readers, because without you there would be no point in my carrying on writing anything. So many of you now write and say how much you have enjoyed the books. That is very much appreciated and I hope that you continue to enjoy them. Immense gratitude to you all.