Gypsy Wedding (2 page)

‘Then that’s both of us with a real skill, Liam. You with your woodworking and me with my needle.’

‘We’ll be the envy of everyone on the park when we’re married.’

And I’m the envy of everyone right now
, thought Vicky as her gaze once more fell on Liam.

‘I’m off for a dance,’ said Shania, interrupting her sister’s reverie. ‘Coming?’

Vicky shook her head. ‘I’m going to sit this one out.’ Besides, she had no need to try and attract a boy any more. She’d caught the biggest and best prize of all: her Liam.

Around them the warm evening air was filled with noise, laughter and music and the space around their trailer was crowded with a colourful swirl of people who were making the most of celebrating Liam and Vicky’s engagement. Not that they needed much of an excuse. They’d party at the drop of a hat but a betrothal, a christening or any major milestone in a gypsy’s life had to be marked with a full-on shindig, and given the status of Vicky’s family as Johnnie was one of the elders, travellers from far and wide had come to join them. And the party exactly reflected their friends who were attending: raucous, brash and fun. Everyone was having a wonderful time.

The marquee was right in the middle of the site, just by the trailer that the O’Rourkes lived in, and the party was being enjoyed by babies and grandparents and every age in between. The menfolk dressed in clean shirts and slacks or jeans but the girls – the girls were something to behold. Traveller girls liked to look their best at a gathering like this and they all wore their favourite or newest dresses, which were all in the brightest fabrics. There were reds and oranges, yellows and lime greens, purples and pinks; every shade of the rainbow was on display and every dress was either made from satin or Lurex or sparkled with sequins or crystals. The disco lights bounced off the dresses in the same way it reflected off the revolving glitter ball above their heads. And, just like Shania, most of the girls were exposing as much of their bodies as they could in order to attract the attention of the lads. Even the youngest of the girls knew how to pout and pucker and use her body to maximum effect. Poor lads, thought Vicky as she watched. They were never going to stand a chance if a girl set her heart on one of them.

She wandered over to her mum, who was sitting on a garden chair by the door to their trailer, a glass of champagne in her hand, chatting to Liam’s mother Bridget and some of their other neighbours.

Vicky bent down and gave her mother a kiss.

‘Thanks for the party, Mammy.’

‘Get away with you,’ said Mary-Rose. ‘And why wouldn’t a mother give her daughter a party to celebrate her engagement? You and Liam will make us proud, isn’t that so, Bridget?’ She turned to Liam’s mother, who was nodding in agreement. ‘And just think, in a year or two we’ll be celebrating your wedding day.’ Mary-Rose’s face was lit up with the excitement of the thought. ‘I’ve been waiting for this day ever since you were born. My own daughter getting wed!’ She hauled herself out of her chair. ‘Give us a hug, darlin’.’

She put her arms around Vicky and pulled her to her big squashy bosom. As she enveloped Vicky, her daughter breathed in her mother’s scent: freshly washed clothes, the soap she used and Devon violets, her mother’s favourite perfume. This smell had been a part of Vicky’s life for all of her fifteen years. It was the smell that meant love and warmth and kindness. It was the smell that filled their trailer.

Suddenly Vicky realised that when she married Liam she would have to leave her family trailer for ever and live apart from her mammy. She buried her face against her mother’s neck. She wanted to get married, she truly did, but she couldn’t help feeling scared at what it meant to her life, and how much everything would change.

There was no going back now. She’d taken the first step towards getting married and the wedding now had to be the focus of her life. It was certainly going to be the focus of her mother’s.

Two years later …

Baby Kylie, the most recent addition to the family and a little sister for Vicky and Shania, had woken from her nap and was grizzling. Now eighteen months old she was more than capable of letting her family know if she was happy or miserable, or grumpy like she was at this moment.

‘I’ll get her,’ said Shania, jumping up from the rug she’d spread on the grass beside the trailer so she could sunbathe. ‘I expect she’ll need changing,’ she said as she adjusted the straps of her tiny bikini top.

‘Thanks,’ said Vicky, rolling over and reaching for her bottle of sunscreen. As the oldest sister it was really her job to look after Kylie but since Shania loved doing it so much it seemed a shame to deny her the pleasure.
She’ll make a wonderful mother
, thought Vicky. She caught sight of her sister’s shoulders as she disappeared into the shade of the trailer. ‘And when you come out again I need to put some lotion on your back. You look as if you’re beginning to burn. You don’t want to go to that wedding at the weekend looking like a lobster.’

‘I certainly don’t,’ Shania called out of the open door. There came sounds of rustling and then the baby stopped crying. All she needed was a bit of a cuddle and she was as happy as Larry. Such a placid child.

Vicky finished topping up the protection on her shoulders and lay back on the rug and let the peace of a perfect August afternoon wash over her. She could hear an insect buzzing nearby. It was probably on the big tubs of flowering plants her mother had placed either side of the entrance to their trailer. In the distance was the muted roar of the dual carriageway. There was a field between their trailer park and the road but the sound easily carried across the grass. The rumble of the traffic was so much a part of the soundtrack of the park that it was rare that she noticed it. Above her, out of sight in the flawless expanse of clear periwinkle blue sky, a lark was singing his heart out. She squinted her eyes to try to spot it but gave up after a few seconds as the sun was just too bright. Somewhere the lads were having a kick-about and she could hear the yells of triumph and disappointment as the game ebbed and flowed. She imagined that her two much younger brothers, Billy and Jon-Boy, would be right in the thick of it. They’d been going stir-crazy all week with the weather being rubbish so they’d been off out with their mates as soon as they’d grabbed their breakfast that morning. With them out of the way she and Shania had got their caravan cleaned in double-quick time, which was why the two girls now had time to laze about, soaking up the rays.

However, being idle was niggling at Vicky’s conscience. She should really be getting on the with dresses she was making for her mother and her sister for a friend’s wedding they were going to at the weekend but this weather was too good to waste. It was the first decent day in an age. Still, the weather forecast was set fair for the weekend, which would be nice for the prospective bride.
It should be the law
, thought Vicky,
that the bride should always have the sun shine on her on her big day
.

Vicky sat up. No, this wasn’t getting those dresses finished. She jumped up off the rug and followed Shania into the relative cool of the trailer. Baby Kylie was on the bench seat by the door, kicking her chubby legs in the air while Shania changed her nappy.

‘Who’s a good girl, then?’ cooed Shania. Kylie gave her a smile in response as Shania pressed down the sticky tabs, and then straightened the pretty pink smocked dress, all flounces and frills – another one of Vicky’s creations. With ease she swung the baby up off the changing mat and onto her hip.

‘I can’t wait to get married and have babies of my own,’ she said. ‘I think I’d like more than five.’

Vicky wasn’t surprised. If there was anyone on this planet who was born to be a mother, it was Shania. ‘I think Mammy would have liked more too but she always said that she didn’t fall pregnant easily.’ Vicky opened a cupboard and got out her sewing box and one of the two dresses she was working on.

‘I hope that doesn’t happen to me. I want ten.’

‘Oh my God, ten! You’ll be needing a big trailer with all them.’

‘What about you and Liam? How many kids are you going to have?’

Vicky took her sewing box from the kitchen counter. ‘Shan! I’m not even married yet. That’s putting the cart before the horse.’

Shania grabbed a feeder cup off the table with one hand and handed it to Kylie, who began sucking on the spout contentedly. She stowed the changing mat away, disposed of the dirty nappy, made sure she’d tidied up properly, then moved to the door. Vicky followed her.

‘When are you going to set a date?’ Shania said over her shoulder. ‘You’re almost seventeen.’

‘That’s hardly ancient.’

‘I want to be married when I’m sixteen.’

Shania put the baby on the rug where she sat placidly still drinking her juice and then plumped down beside her sister. Vicky sat on the aluminium step by the door, her open sewing box at her feet, the lime-green dress she was making for Shania draped over her knees.

Shania stretched luxuriously on the rug and then said in an artificially casual way, ‘I reckon Michael’s going to grab me at the wedding.’

‘You reckon?’

‘Sure of it. He keeps looking at me.’

‘You could do worse.’ Vicky concentrated on threading a needle

‘I know. He’s lovely.’ Shania sighed, wistfully.

‘You mustn’t look too keen, though. You’ve got to put up a fight if he does grab you.’

‘Oh, I will. It wouldn’t be proper to give in to a kiss right away. I’d look a right slapper if I did that. And think what Dad would say.’

Vicky, who’d started hemming the sleeve, put down her sewing as she contemplated just how angry he would be. No, her dad’s temper wasn’t a happy thought on a day like today. She smiled at her sister, pleased that she’d got her eye on a good man and even more pleased that her sister knew how to behave. She caught sight of her sister’s reddening shoulders. ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘You’ve forgotten about the sunscreen. You’ll be burnt to a crisp if we don’t get that on your back and then no one, not even the sainted Michael, will want you.’

She dumped her sewing onto her sewing box and moved over to the rug where she could help Shania slather on the factor twenty.

‘It’s so unfair,’ said Shania. ‘Why don’t I tan like you?’

‘Because you’ve got beautiful Irish skin like Mammy’s.’

‘But I always look as if I’ve just crawled out from under a rock,’ wailed Shania.

‘You so don’t,’ said Vicky. ‘You’re a beauty, you’re pale and interesting whereas me? I’m so dark after the summer I look like I could be related to that guy Jordan.’

‘Jordan?’

‘Yeah, you know him. In my year, hangs around with that bitch Chloe.’

‘Oh, him. He’s well fit.’

‘Yeah, but his dad is from somewhere in Africa.’

‘Can you imagine if we married a black man?’ said Shania.

The girls giggled at the enormity of the idea.

‘Can you imagine if one of us married a gorgio?’ said Vicky, going one step further. The idea of marrying a non-traveller was so unthinkable that they both shrieked. ‘Oh my God,’ yelped Vicky. ‘Dad would go ballistic.’

‘Mental,’ agreed Shania.

The family car drew up in front of the trailer; their parents were back from a shopping trip to the local superstore. Mary-Rose waved at her daughters and then heaved her bulk out of the white saloon. Their father got out of the driver’s seat.

‘Give your mammy a hand with the shopping,’ he said, although the girls didn’t need telling. They were already on their way over to help bring the groceries into their home.

Mary-Rose settled down in a plastic garden chair outside and pulled Kylie onto her lap while the girls ferried all the carrier bags inside and got busy stowing away the food in the fridge and the larder cupboards. They switched the kettle on as they worked and took their mother a cup of tea. Their father had decided to slake his thirst with a can of beer he’d liberated from one of the carriers as the girls had passed him by.

‘Oh, that’s grand,’ she said, accepting the steaming mug with a grateful smile. ‘I’m that parched.’

When the girls had finished Vicky went back to her dress, neatly sewing the hem on the sleeve and then nipping off the thread with her teeth.

‘Go and try this on, will you, Shania?’ she said as she handed the frock over.

Shania retreated to the tiny space that was the room she shared with her big sister. A few minutes later she emerged clad in the skimpy creation.

‘Oh, what a picture,’ said Mary-Rose, clapping her hands. ‘I love it. Give us a twirl.’ Shania pirouetted. ‘That colour’s lovely with your hair. Do you think it needs more sequins?’

Vicky put her head on one side as she considered her mother’s suggestion. ‘I’ve got plenty left. We could put some around here.’ She pointed to the bottom of the short bodice top that left most of Shania’s midriff bare.

‘Yeah, I’d like that,’ said Shania. ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’

‘Of course it’s not. Nothing is too much trouble for my sister. And not if it means she catches a certain someone’s eye.’ She gave Shania a nudge. ‘Now go and take it off – I don’t want to accidentally sew a sequin onto you!’

Her sister disappeared to change once again.