The Grace Girls (18 page)

‘Who else is visiting tonight?’ Heather whispered as they walked along the brightly lit, low-ceilinged corridor to Lily’s ward.

‘Mona and Pat as usual,’ Sophie whispered back, ‘and probably some of the boys. There’s usually a good few of them in every afternoon and night now they’re on school holidays. Father Finlay has been coming in regularly and so have a lot of the kids from school.’

‘I think the whole of Rowanhill has been in to visit her,’ Kirsty said smiling. ‘She’s one of the most popular wee girls in the place and in the school.’

The ward was busy as usual, with small groups around each of the twenty beds. Lily was halfway down on the left-hand side, the top of her bedside cabinet full of flowers and cards.

‘There’s Pat and Mona,’ Sophie said, giving them a small discreet wave of her gloved hand, ‘and Patrick and Declan are there, too.’

As soon as he saw them, Pat moved the boys to collect spare chairs from the surrounding beds to accommodate the extra visitors. After the initial bustle of taking off coats and gloves and assorted outdoor garments, they all moved towards the white-painted bed with the high safety-sides, where Lily was propped up on pillows and grinning delightedly to see them, her bright eyes flitting from one to the other. She had on a fancy new pink nightdress with white gathered lace and ribbons at the neck. Her long, curly blonde hair had been brushed and tied back in her customary ponytail.

Heather caught her breath at the sight of her cousin, thinking how tiny she looked amongst the stiff white sheets and the pale blue, basket-weave blanket – but like the others, she smiled and hid the little pangs of sorrow.

‘Well, how’s the wee blether-box the day?’ Fintan said, leaning over the bed to give his niece a careful hug.

‘Fine, Uncle Fintan,’ Lily said in a strange, thin little voice. ‘The doctor says I’m an awful lot better.’

‘An’ you’re lookin’ it, too, darlin’,’ he said in a voice hoarse with emotion. ‘That oul’ school hasn’t been the same without ye, Lily. Your teacher told me that on the last day before the holidays. She said all the other children were sayin’ how the country dancing display wasn’t as good this year.’ He halted then gave her a wink. ‘And Willie fairly missed you, they’d to get him a new partner from the class below, and he said she wasn’t a patch on you. The way they’re talkin’ I think the whole school have missed you.’

Lily blushed slightly at the mention of Willie, as her brothers often teased her about him being her boyfriend. Thankfully, nobody reacted to her classmate’s name.

‘Have they really all said they missed me?’ she said, looking very pleased at the thought.

‘Missed ye?’ Fintan repeated incredulously. ‘They’ve me driven up the wall asking about you. And the teacher said you could tell the difference without you there. Sure, the class were as quiet as mice – it wasn’t the same at all.’ Lily gave a little giggle now, and he was delighted to see her response.

‘Are you going to move over and let the rest of us in?’ Sophie joked now, elbowing Fintan out of the way. ‘How are you, hen?’ she said, giving Lily a cuddle. ‘You’re looking a whole lot better today.’

Heather and Kirsty moved in after their mother, hugging Lily and showing her the presents they had brought her, and reading all the get well cards and letters that had been sent in by the children and adults in Rowanhill.

‘You’re a fly wee thing,’ Kirsty teased. ‘Picking the right time to be in the hospital. Gettin’ all these presents now and then you’ll have piles more next week for Christmas.’

‘They might be lettin’ me out for Christmas!’ Lily said, her voice sounding a little stronger. She looked at Mona with big wide eyes. ‘Aren’t they, Mammy?’

Pat turned away, pretending he was looking at somethin
g across the other side of the ward. Mona knew instantly that he was leaving the delicate business to her. ‘Now, they didn’t say for definite, Lily,’ she said, her face pained, and her heart even more pained. ‘They said we’d have to see. You have another few days yet.’ The thought of Christmas this year was like something way, way off in the future to Mona. She had become so used to taking things a day at a time – and often an hour at a time.

‘But my arms and legs are movin’ again!’ Lily said. ‘Look!’

Everybody’s gaze moved now to the bottom of the blue-covered bed. A very slight – but very definite – movement could be seen under the covers.

‘Well done!’ Sophie said, starting them all off in a carefully muted clapping session, so as not to disturb the other patients and their visitors too much.

‘And my arms . . .’ Lily said, her blue eyes dancing with excitement, but her voice now beginning to show signs of strain. ‘I can lift them up a wee bit as well.’ She suddenly started to cough – a choking, breathless kind of cough – and those at the top of the bed moved aside to let her mother in.

‘Take it easy now,’ Mona said, coming to stand beside her. She leaned over to dab the side of Lily’s mouth with a folded tissue. ‘Just take easy breaths like the nurse showed you . . .’

‘She wasn’t just an ordinary nurse, Mammy,’ Lily rasped, ‘she was a
phys-i-o-ther-apist
– so she was.’ She leaned back in her pillows, taking deep breaths as she had been instructed.

A few minutes later Lily was back to feeling reasonably comfortable, and everyone relaxed around her bed again, chatting and showing her the presents they’d bought.

Heather took the cardboard, teenage dressing-doll with the imitation hair out of the box, and held outfits up to Lily to allow her to pick what the doll should wear. She and Kirsty took turns dressing the doll, making a great, exaggerated show of hiding it from the boys when it only had its underwear on. Each time they did it, everyone tittered with laughter. When Mona called a halt to the laughing for fear of disturbing other patients, and of getting Lily too excited, the Enid Blyton book was produced.

‘There’s an older girl called Margaret,’ Lily whispered to Kirsty and Heather, ‘who’s allowed out of her bed, and she comes up and sits beside me
and reads to me because I can’t hold the book myself. Sometimes she just holds the book out for me and I read it.’ She stopped. ‘I’ll probably ask her to read me the book you brought me tomorrow.’

‘Where is she?’ Heather asked in a low, conspiratorial voice, which she knew would engage Lily’s attention further. ‘Now don’t try to point or move yourself . . . just describe where she is so that we know what she looks like.’

‘Nosy got hung!’ Kirsty said to her older sister in the childish banter they used when they were young. ‘She’ll know we’re talking about her if everybody looks around.’

‘Look to the right,’ Lily said, giggling, swivelling her blue eyes dramatically in the direction, ‘and down three beds. She’s wearin’ a green dressing-gown and she has her hair in two pig-tails.’

‘Clocked her!’ Kirsty said. ‘She’s sittin’ up in bed reading all her get well cards to her visitors. She looks a right wee bookworm – and you forgot to mention she was wearin’ glasses. You forgot to say she was a specky-four eyes!’

Lily giggled some more. ‘Oh, you’re terrible!’ she said, her brows coming down in mock disapproval. ‘Margaret’s not a
real
specky, for your information – she only wears them for readin’.’

‘Well, she looks a right wee specky from where I’m sittin’!’ Kirsty teased.

Lily started laughing in a heartier manner now and after a few moments the coughing came back with a vengeance.

‘Come on now, my wee darlin’,’ Pat said, going over to comfort her. ‘Will I give you a drink of Lucozade?’

Lily nodded now, trying unsuccessfully to control the spasms. Tears started to trickle down her cheek with the effort, but after a while the coughing subsided again, and she was able to take a drink from a plastic feeding-cup, supported by her father. All the other visitors watched them anxiously, whilst making half-hearted attempts at light conversation to keep the atmosphere as normal as possible.

Mona caught Sophie’s eye and shook her head, tears glistening in the corner of her eyes. Whatever problems life had thrust in their direction before was nothing compared to the devastation that this illness had wreaked on the whole Grace family. This vicious, silent germ had crept into the most vulnerable part of their lives, the very centre of the family’s heart.

Lily.

This precious little daughter – the apple of their eyes – who had come after the four boys, when they had almost given up hope of ever having a girl.

When she’d settled down again, Pat leaned across the bed, his arms around his little daughter, and whispered soothingly into her ear. ‘You’ll be fine soon, Lily – you’ll be all fine for Christmas. And Santie’s going to bring you the biggest surprise you’ve ever had in your life.’

The little face lit up again, and she looked directly into
her father’s eyes. ‘
You’ll
get me home in time for Christmas
, Daddy,’ she whispered, ‘won’t you?’

Chapter 23

Two nights later, just as Sophie and Heather were clearing up after the evening meal, Pat Grace came to the kitchen door.

‘Is the big fella in?’ he enquired in his rich Irish accent. ‘Or is he up at the school?’ Pat was much more serious these days since Lily’s illness. His usual jocular manner with males and flirtatious manner with the women had all died down.

‘Oh, he’s inside having a second cup of tea by the fire and listening to the news,’ Sophie said, stepping back to let her brother-in-law through. ‘If you go on in to him, I’ll bring you a cup in a few minutes. What’s the news of Lily today?’

‘Still sore and stiff . . . but movin’ a little bit more every day, thanks be to God.’

‘Who’s going in to the hospital tonight?’ Heather asked.

‘Just myself and Mona,’ Pat replied. ‘The boys were in this afternoon, so they can stay at home and the older ones can have a quiet visit tonight.’

‘Kirsty’s out rehearsing,’ Heather said, ‘but Mammy and Daddy and me were thinking of going in to see her for half an hour.’ She hesitated. ‘That’s if you don’t feel it’s too much for her.’

Pat nodded and smiled, although the smile didn’t quite reach his weary eyes. ‘She’ll be delighted to see you,’ he said softly. ‘When you and Kirsty are around, the rest of us could go home as far as she’s concerned.’

Heather’s eyes suddenly filled up, and her throat felt ti
ght. ‘She’ll be home soon . . .’ Her head moved downwar
ds and her dark hair came over her sad face like a curtain.

Pat nodded again. ‘How’s the job going in Glasgow?’ he asked now. His tone was as friendly as usual, but his manner was distracted and his eyes flickered towards the hallway.

‘Och, it’s fine, Uncle Pat,’ Heather said in a falsely bright voice, shaking her hair out of her watery eyes. ‘The work is great and the people are nice and friendly.’ She didn’t bother to elaborate as she could see Pat had more on his mind.

‘Good girl,’ Pat said, turning out into the hallway. He tapped on the living-room door before walking in.

Fintan got to his feet immediately and switched the wireless off. He indicated to the seat at the opposite side of
the fire. ‘Well,’ he greeted his brother, ‘any news this evenin’?’

‘Ah, nothing much,’ Pat said, sitting down. ‘She’s comin
g along slowly . . . feckin’ oul’ polio.’ He paused, then let out a long, low sigh. ‘I don’t suppose you got in touch with Claire, did you?’

Fintan sat back into his chair, his face lightly flushing at the mention of their estranged sister. He rubbed his hand over the light stubble on his chin. ‘Well,’ he said in a low voice, ‘I asked Sophie to phone her up on Sunday . . .’

The job Fintan had delegated to his wife had been an awkward one for two reasons. The first was practical – the complications involved in using the public phone box, sorting out the correct coins to pay for it and then the business of finding the code for Glasgow and dialling it. The second part was even more difficult – having to speak to the younger sister who had turned her back on her Catholic family.

Or, as Claire put it, the sister the whole family had shunned for marrying out of her class and her religion.

Whatever the rights and wrongs of the arguments, Fintan had been pathetically grateful to his wife for agreeing to make the difficult call.

‘And how was she?’ Pat asked, looking decidedly awkward
himself now. This was just the sort of conversat
ion he dreaded, and usually avoided at all costs.

Fintan pursed his lips. ‘By all accounts she started cryin’ the minute she heard Sophie’s voice . . .’ He paused. ‘She wanted to know what was wrong . . . that there must be something wrong for anybody to phone her.’

Pat nodded, his gaze now on the floor, and his forefinge
r pressing on the point at the bridge of his nose. This was all very painful to hear, because Claire and he had been the closest out of the family before the rift had occurred – before Mona had made her feelings plain to everyone. ‘I suppose she would say that . . .’

‘Sophie felt she might as well tell her straightaway,’ Fintan went on, ‘she said there was no point in tryin’ to make small talk on the phone all the way to Glasgow.’

Pat lifted his eyes to meet his brother’s. ‘How did she react to the news about Lily?’