For Many a Long Day (15 page)

Her main task was to ensure there was no disorder or dislocation while the displays were being done. Mr Magennis, Joe and Daisy looked after the
counters while she and Harry, assisted by Stanley and Susie, dressed the models and draped swathes of new fabric. Trying to create something eye-catching week after week was not easy. She often wondered how they kept it up.

Even though all the materials had been prepared late on Saturday afternoon and Harry had made sketches of what they’d planned to do, it was late in the morning before they’d finished. She checked that Daisy and Susie had had a tea break earlier, then slipped quietly upstairs herself.

The staff-room, in Miss Walker’s time little more than a repository for cardboard boxes and unwanted furniture, had been transformed and it had been entirely Susie’s idea. First she’d persuaded the boys to rearrange all the storage above the shop to take what was in the room itself, then she’d got them to freshen the walls with a coat of distemper, paint the surround of the fireplace and varnish the bare floorboards.

That made a big difference, but Susie wasn’t satisfied. Having draped the two sagging fireside chairs with brightly coloured remnants and seen how much better they looked, she’d got Joe to use his carpentry skills to mend the chairs. She then re-covered them herself and made a remarkably professional job of it.

When he’d viewed the result, Mr Freeburn had been impressed. A few days later, he produced a
third fireside chair for them, so that they would
all
be able to sit comfortably for those few minutes when they arrived upstairs weary after work, before the effort of going home.

Ellie took out her letter. Indifferent to the now pleasant surroundings, she dropped into the nearest chair, tore open the envelope and drew out the folded sheets. She read it quickly, sighed, and read it again. It was neither better nor worse than she’d expected. It didn’t tell her anything about what he was doing or what he was thinking, or how he felt about this new life he was making in a new country.

He did say he missed her and longed to be with her. Unfortunately he’d used the same words, in the same way, in every letter he’d written since last October. It reminded her of the way mothers say the same things to children, night after night, when they put them to bed: ‘Goodnight, sleep tight. See you in the morning.’

She smiled suddenly as she remembered Polly’s less genteel version when she herself was being put to bed a long time ago: ‘Goodnight, sleep tight. Don’t let the bugs bite.’

She picked up Polly’s letter and devoured it, dropped it to the floor and covered her face with her hands. She thought longingly of her. Long or short, her letters never disappointed. They were so alive, whether she was on top of the world or out of her mind with fatigue, or beside herself with
frustration over the behaviour of the boys. With a letter in her hand, Ellie could see her, feel what she was feeling, but there were times when the distance between them brought such an ache of loss, it was almost unbearable. Nothing but a flesh and blood Polly would do.

She thought of what Daisy would say. She was always so quick to support her, so ready to encourage her not to spend her precious days waiting for George to write, or send her ticket, or say he was coming home. Daisy was a comfort, yes, but it was advice about what to
do
that she needed and she knew it had to be someone older and wiser than Daisy.

When the answer came to her, she couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t thought of it sooner. She would tell Rose all about her problem over George and ask her if they could have a word, even if it was her birthday. She knew her friend well enough to know she wouldn’t mind and she could be sure Rose would have wise words to offer her.

Whether it was the thought of Rose, or the sight of the bunch of flowers Susie had put in a vase on the mantelpiece, she felt her spirits rise. She got to her feet and picked up her handbag from its hook.

‘That’s what that display needs,’ she said aloud. ‘At the bottom right hand corner. Red or yellow to offset the grey.’

Half an hour later, after consulting Harry and
cheered by her new idea, she set off for the nursery men’s trestles in the marketplace to see if she could find what she needed.

Monday was not a market day, but at this point in May people were busy with their gardens and the nursery men were well aware of the fact. When Ellie rounded the corner into the marketplace she found almost as many vans and trestle tables as on a regular market day, but today they were almost all selling plants, flowers, shrubs and young trees.

What she needed was a plant in bloom for the corner of the window display of men’s suits and suiting fabric. Something to contrast with the pale greys and blues and particularly the very pale grey with the fine chalk white stripe which was displayed in many of the magazines this season.

It was still too early for roses, even the early varieties, but some of the nursery men now had enormous greenhouses and were growing small bush varieties in large pots. Under one of the trestles she caught sight of some bright red blooms. Hoping that it wasn’t a salvia, or dahlia, or one of the other perennials that would never tolerate the shop window for a whole week, she hurried forward, gathered her skirt around her and got down on one knee to have a good look.

To her delight, it was a healthy bush rose with pretty little pale green leaves and some bright red
buds just unfurling. It was rather expensive, but she was sure Mr Freeburn would refund at least part of the cost from the petty cash. She often bought flowers and foliage plants for the windows and this wasn’t totally different. If he paid half she’d willingly pay the other half and take it home when it stopped flowering.

She was just leaning forward to pull the tub out from among its fellows when she collided with a leg, a brown, dungareed leg with a slight smell of oil clinging to it.

‘Och, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,’ said a familiar voice, as a hand came down to steady her. ‘Ellie Scott. Will you say a prayer for me while you’re down on your knees there.’

Ellie laughed and grasped his hand, got to her feet and saw Sam Hamilton looking down, amazement and pleasure in his bright blue eyes. She had never before noticed how blue they were.

‘Is that the one you want?’ he asked, nodding at her choice.

‘Yes, it’s a nice shape and it’s going to flower soon. Probably tomorrow if it’s indoors.’

‘An’ what about those two?’

‘Nice plants, but a bit further behind. Should bloom next week.’

‘Now isn’t that just great,’ he said, clearly delighted about something. ‘I think this must be a lucky day for me, having an expert to advise me
when I need to buy two presents. You see, it’s my birthday and I want one for Rosie and one for Emily.’

Ellie put her hand over her mouth and laughed. For a minute or two she just couldn’t stop. It wasn’t
that
funny, but when she looked up at him, he had begun to laugh too.

‘Sam Hamilton,’ she began soberly, ‘has no one ever told you that on
your
birthday your sisters are supposed to give
you
presents, not the other way round?’

‘Ah well, ye see, I’ve been giving the pair of them a bad time,’ he explained more soberly, ‘and today I made up my mind I ought to go and see them and say Thank you. I can go and see Emily tonight in Stonebridge and then Rosie in Dromore on Sunday. And those two wee bushes sittin’ beside your one will go down well.’

‘And what about a birthday present for you, Sam?’

‘Would you like to give me a birthday present?’ he asked his eyes suddenly sparkling.

‘Yes, I would,’ she replied, wondering what he might have in mind.

‘Well, the last time you and I were at a dance, I had the first and the last. D’ye remember?’

She nodded happily.

‘Then, for my birthday, you can give me
two extra.
Four altogether,’ he said firmly, holding up
four rather grubby fingers. ‘That’ll leave you enough for all the rest of the Tennis Club queuing up to dance with you in between. Is it a deal?’

‘Yes, it’s a deal,’ she said, as he picked up her plant and handed it to her.

‘I’m sorry I can’t carry that back to the shop for you,’ he added, glancing at his watch, ‘but I’ve got to go and see a man about a motor. I’ll see you and Daisy at the club one of these nights,’ he said, ‘I’ve hardly been yet this season, but I’ll have a bit more time now.’

He tucked his two plants awkwardly under one arm, paid for them and hurried off down English Street a plant now under each arm. As he passed, he gave her a quick backward glance and such a smile as to leave her thoughtful all the way back to the shop.

Having started off so beautifully with warmth and sunshine, May suddenly turned wet at the end of the second week. For all the young people at Freeburns, including Joe, who had finally been persuaded to join the Tennis Club, it was a great disappointment. On several evenings it was obvious by closing time that no play would be possible while there were other evenings when they all went hopefully to the court, only to be rained off later.

There was, however, no possibility whatever of the Annual Tennis Club Dance being rained off, for this key event of the season, a nine to two affair including a sit-down supper, was held in the City Hall, a large building which provided various civic offices as well as a ballroom, reported to have a beautifully sprung floor, and a stage fitted with deep red velvet curtains which swung back just like the ones in the Ritz Cinema.

None of the three girls had ever been to a dance in the City Hall before. Susie was so excited about
the prospect of her first grown-up dance she could think of little else. Since the advent of Frank, Daisy had been to many dances, but none as yet in the City Hall. She was almost as excited as Susie, who’d been allowed to go because she’d be accompanied by not only Ellie and Daisy but also her brother Richard, a member of the organising committee.

Ellie herself had not danced since the night she and Sam Hamilton had won the Tennis Tournament the previous September and she had to admit to herself she felt nearly as excited as her two friends. For reasons not clearly known to herself, she did her best not to make it obvious to either of them.

It was Susie who insisted neither Ellie nor Daisy could go cycling home at two o’clock in the morning in their best dresses. She had spoken to her mother and persuaded her brother to go and stay with his older brother and sister-in-law in Abbey Street, thereby leaving an extra spare bedroom at the house in Beresford Row. They would all be able to get ready together, she said, and if it should rain that evening, her father promised he would drive them up the City Hall himself.

The evening of the twenty-sixth of May, however, was warm and pleasant, as perfect a summer evening as one could wish. Although Ellie and Daisy had been given a bedroom each, next door to Susie’s own room, it was only a matter of time before Ellie’s
room, which looked out over the trees on the Mall, became their joint dressing room.

Susie’s excuse was that the long mirror on the back of the wardrobe door was the best in the house while Daisy just appeared in her slip when she heard the voices next door. But Ellie wasn’t in the least put out by this invasion, far from it, she found a great comfort in the presence of her two younger friends. After all their talk about the dance in the staff-room at Freeburns it seemed very appropriate for them to be together now, doing each other’s hair, sharing powder, or lipstick, or scent.

Susie’s mother was so kind to them, smiling wistfully when she mentioned her own dancing days, admiring their dresses and ready to provide anything they might need. In a quiet moment she thanked both Ellie and Daisy for all they’d done for Susie, a much happier girl now than when she’d left school labelled a failure. She’d be only too pleased to have them both again, should there be another big dance they all wanted to go to.

‘Chauffeur reporting for duty, ma’am,’ said John Sleator to his wife, as he came into the sitting-room where Ellie and Daisy sat politely and Susie hopped up and down, quite unable to keep still. ‘You’re in luck, there’s a Daimler tonight. Came in this morning and Richard and my best mechanic worked on it all day, so we could drive you in style tonight.’

‘My goodness,’ said Susie, staring down from
the first floor window to where the gleaming vehicle was parked outside, ‘Is that it?’

‘That’s it, Susie dear. A 1927 Double Six 30. Not as sensational as the V12, but both King George and Queen Mary ordered one of these when they first came out. Fit for royalty and for three lovely ladies. All thanks to Sam Hamilton who found out what was wrong with it. Now, time to go. Sorry I haven’t got a peaked cap.’

There was a flurry of goodbyes and thanks. Mrs Sleator reminded Susie to make cocoa for her friends when they came in. ‘Have a wonderful time, all of you. Oh, and Susie, don’t forget your alarm clock, you know I can never waken you myself.’

‘Right, Mummy, I promise. Thank you for letting me have Ellie and Daisy to stay, it’s been lovely. They are so good to me,’ she said, kissing her mother briefly and making for the door.

John Sleator drove the long way round to the City Hall and when they arrived within sight of it, he was delighted to see that there were
NO PARKING
notices outside. Then he laughed to himself. As the event was being run by the Royal Ulster Constabulary, it was hardly surprising they’d thought of controlling the traffic.

He glided to a halt in front of the entrance, jumped out, opened the rear door of the vehicle and handed out his three young ladies. The looks on the faces of the uniformed constables by the main
door, clearly impressed by the Daimler and by its contents, was worth all the effort. As he drove home to his wife, he wore a broad grin. It was the sort of story you could be forgiven for telling more than once.

Although it was broad daylight outside, the ladies cloakroom was a blaze of light, already crowded with women of all ages, wearing dresses that ranged from the very latest styles in short frocks to long skirted creations in silk and taffeta brought out once again for this yearly occasion.

‘D’you not think we’re a bit early to go in?’ asked Daisy anxiously, ‘We wouldn’t want to be the first.’

‘That’s probably why this cloakroom is so full,’ suggested Ellie, ‘they’re all saying the same thing,’ she went on, as they struggled through the press of bodies to hand over their coats.

‘Oh, do let’s go in,’ said Susie. ‘Even if we are the first.’

Ellie herself was finding the crush, the strong odour of perspiration and scent, the airlessness of the cloakroom, very oppressive and the longing in Susie’s tone was so obvious. The dear girl had waited for months. What did it matter if they did turn out to be the first?

‘Why not,’ replied Ellie, looking into the shining eyes.

They squeezed out through the crowd and
breathed again on the cool airy staircase, crossed the landing and stepped into the dimly lit ballroom. The floor was empty, but as they entered, the band struck up the first number of the evening and the three young men standing with their backs to the entrance turned round and came towards them, revealing themselves as Sam Hamilton, Frank Armstrong and Richard Sleator.

Whether they had been waiting together, or whether it was just chance, Ellie never discovered, but as Sam Hamilton held out his arms to her, she had a sudden feeling that the evening was going to be a happy one.

They moved around the floor as if they’d been dancing with each other for years, saying little, taking in the fairy lights and the festooned decorations, the familiar faces of other couples on the still uncrowded floor. The bank of fresh flowers edging the stage gave off a fresh garden perfume. Above them sat the band, lined up in their smart dinner jackets, playing as if they would never tire.

‘Well, that’s number one,’ said Sam smiling down at her at the end of the first sequence. ‘First and last and two for my birthday,’ he added, reminding her of their agreement, ‘and maybe a bonus for fixing the Daimler,’ he added lightly, as he walked her back to Daisy and Susie.

It was almost two hours later before Sam claimed his next dance. Ellie had been partnered for
every one in between and had enjoyed all of them. First Harry, then Stanley and Joe, Richard Sleator and Frank Armstrong and, to her great surprise, the Club Secretary, Charles Merrick, the precise little man with the neat moustache who’d apologised to her for failing to find her a tennis partner for the afternoon of the tournament last year.

‘Are ye not tired yet? You’ve danced every dance. How do you do it?’ he asked, as they moved easily into a slow waltz. ‘And you standin’ all day?’

‘And what about you? Don’t you stand all day too?’ she came back at him, ‘and bending over as well.’

‘Sometimes I get a wee lie down,’ he said, his eyes twinkling.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

‘Mind you, the concrete’s pretty hard and John doesn’t provide cushions.’

‘I’ve got plenty of cushions,’ she retorted, laughing, ‘all shapes and sizes, but very little chance to sit on them.’

‘We could go up on the balcony and watch for a wee while. See how Susie is gettin’ on, until they call us for supper.’

She nodded slowly. ‘I hate to admit it, but I
am
tired but I still don’t want to miss anything.’

‘Well, we can see everythin’ goin’ on from up there, better actually than down here.’

They made their way up the two flights of
shallow stairs to the next floor and stepped down the steep aisle between the rows of cushioned seats to the very front of the balcony. Here and there in the dimmer corners behind them entwined couples were quite oblivious of their passing.

They leant over the broad edge and looked down, picked out all their friends as they appeared, said what a great band it was, how beautiful the lights and decorations were, and then sat back comfortably with a sigh in their cushioned seats, the long day catching up on both of them at last.

‘Did your sisters like the wee rose bushes?’ Ellie asked, when the silence between them seemed to have gone on for rather a long time.

‘Aye,’ he beamed at her. ‘That was good luck meetin’ you that day. You were a great help.’

‘Oh Sam, I only encouraged you to choose what you’d have chosen anyway,’ she said dismissively.

He shook his head vigorously. ‘It wasn’t just that, Ellie. I’d had a bit of a shock that day. Ye helped me get over it.’

She looked at him, startled, concerned by a tone she’d not heard in his voice before. She waited to see if he would go on.

‘Last year, I was engaged to be married, Ellie, and the girl broke it off,’ he began, looking down at his large hands. ‘I’d the furniture bought an’ we were just waitin’ for a house we could rent. I was that upset I thought of goin’ to New Zealand. I had the
plans made, though my two sisters told me it would do no good. The only way was to face it here.’

He paused for so long, Ellie wondered if he’d be able to continue.

‘You said you’d given your sisters a bad time,’ she prompted gently.

He nodded again. ‘I blamed myself for what had happened. I thought it was me had done somethin’ amiss and I couldn’t face thinkin’ about it every day, comin’ and goin’ to work, aye an’ at work too. I never knew when it was goin’ to come over me. I just wanted to get away from the thoughts of it. That day I met you in the market I’d found out it wasn’t me at all. It was somethin’ she’d done.’

He paused and laid his hand on hers as if to underline the point he was about to make.

Ellie didn’t move her hand away. She just waited, anxious for him to finish the tale, for it had taken away the ease from his body and the sparkle from his eyes.

‘Ellie, the worst of it was I nearly made a terrible mistake.’

‘What was that, Sam?’

‘I nearly let that woman drive me away from here. From this place I love and my home and my family. If it hadn’t been for Da and Rosie and Emily, I’d a’ been away months ago.’

‘Oh Sam, that
would
have been so sad. You’ve a good job and you’ve friends and sisters here. You
might have been very lonely away on the other side of the world.’

‘Aye, that’s what Emily and Rosie said.’

‘I’m a bit envious of you, Sam. My sister’s are
all
away,’ she said suddenly. ‘When things go wrong for me, I so wish I had Polly round the corner.’

‘I can imagine that all right after this last year. Where is your Polly?’

‘Peterborough, Ontario.’

‘An’ does she like it there?’

‘That’s the trouble, Sam. You can’t always tell. Her husband Jimmy is with Quaker Oats. It’s only maintenance work, all he could get when his company in Toronto went down. She has three wee boys and they’ve not much money. I know she makes the best of things, but I often wonder if she wishes she was home.’

Ellie watched as he nodded vigorously. He seemed quite restored to his good spirits again after the tension and distress of telling her about what had happened to him. She was touched by his concern for Polly and the way he listened so carefully to all she’d said about her.

‘My granny always says you hear so much about those who go and make a great success, but you hear less about those who fail, an’ hardly anythin’ at all about those who come home, or those who spend their life wishing they
could
come home.’

‘That sounds like a very sensible granny,’ replied
Ellie, smiling at him. ‘I haven’t got a granny either,’ she went on matter-of-factly. ‘Does yours live near you?’ she asked, thinking how fortunate he seemed to be with his family.

‘No. I wish she did,’ he said sadly, ‘she lives in Belfast now with my Uncle James. She used to live over Banbridge way, a place called Ballydown, but then Granda died and she lost her great friends, Richard and Elisabeth Stewart, so Uncle James asked her to come and live with him …’

‘In Cranmore Park, off the Lisburn Road?’

Sam stared at her, eyes wide in astonishment.

‘How d’ye know that?’

So Ellie told him how she had spoken to a woman feeding birds in the park and how they had become friends.

‘I can hardly believe it,’ he said, shaking his head yet again. ‘And did you not tell her
you
knew a Sam Hamilton?’

‘No, it never occurred to me. There are so many Hamiltons around Armagh I never thought of you,’ she said, laughing herself. ‘She told me a lot about her family, but she said even her grandchildren were getting middle-aged these days. That could hardly include you. She
did
mention a Sam Hamilton, but that was her son. She said he always wanted to drive road-engines. I’m not quite sure what a road engine is, but it must be a long time ago. James, Sam, Hannah and Sarah. Four of them. She told me
a lot about each of them, but she didn’t get as far as grandchildren.’