The Grace Girls (26 page)

The three women went into titters of laughter.

‘That’s nice,’ Fintan said, ‘laughing at your poor oul’ father.’ He was laughing himself now, although slightly self­consciously. ‘Your mother said she needed a new teapot, so I bought her a nice fancy one – what was wrong with that?’

‘If a man bought me a teapot,’ Kirsty squealed, ‘I’d batter him over the head with it!’ Then the two girls fell against each other giggling, while Sophie and Fintan looked on in bemusement.

‘There’s the ambulance comin’ down the street!’ Kirsty suddenly said, and the laughter came to an abrupt halt as they all moved towards the front door.

As they waited for the ambulance to pull up, Heather pointed to the H-shaped aerial on her Uncle Pat’s roof. ‘I didn’t noticed that when I came in last night,’ she commented. ‘But I suppose it was a bit too dark.’

‘There’s more of them goin’ up every few weeks,’ Finta
n said. ‘I think the television’s eventually going to take over from the wireless.’

‘Mona was complaining that it’s not a great picture,’ Sop
hie said. ‘There’s times it’s like faint snow moving across
the screen.’

‘Well, at least you can listen to it as well,’ Kirsty pointed out. She dug her father in the ribs. ‘I can’t wait until we get one.’

‘Well, try and find some patience,’ Fintan told her, putting his arm jokily around her neck, ‘because you’ll be waitin’ a while before a telly comes into this house.’

When the ambulance doors opened, a cheer went up from the group gathered round Pat Grace’s gate, then everyone fell silent as first the wheelchair was brought out, and then the ambulance driver and the nurse came out carrying Lily, still wrapped in the blankets. She had her eyes screwed up against the piercing brightness of the winter sunlight.

‘Move away now, and let her through,’ Pat Grace instructed as he went forward to meet the little party from the hospital, Mona only feet behind him. When he saw the small white-faced bundle in the blankets, a big lump formed in his throat. He had been looking forward to her coming home all morning, for some ridiculous reason imagining her running about like her old lively little self. But seeing her now brought the severity of her illness into sharp focus. Seeing the brightest little light in his life being lifted into the wheelchair, just as he used to lift her as a small baby into a pushchair.

‘I feel far happier now I’ve seen her in her own house, and I think she’s lookin’ quite well, considering,’ Kirsty announced after the four of them had been over to see Lily. They were all sitting around the fire, with the radio on in the background, Sophie hand-stitching a hem on her own skirt and Fintan reading a novel by one of his favourite Irish authors, while the two girls were flicking through the Christmas editions of their weekly magazines. ‘She’s moving her arms and legs much better, and she’s well able to sit up now, with a couple of cushions behind her.’

‘Thanks be to God and his Blessed Mother,’ Sophie said, making the sign of the cross on her chest.

‘Did you hear Pat saying about the look on her face when she saw the television?’ Fintan put in. He laid his book, spine up, on the arm of his chair. ‘He said for once in Lily’s wee life she was speechless! Then she started going on about
Andy Pandy
and
The Woodentops
, and all these programmes she been hearing about.’

‘That was a great idea,’ Heather said. ‘It means that she’ll never be on her own downstairs in the evening while the television is on.’

‘And Mona has warned all the boys that Lily’s to choo
se whatever she wants to watch or listen to on the radio
over Christmas,’ Fintan laughed. ‘It looks like she’ll be ruling the roost, the very same as always.’

‘Thank God,’ said Sophie. ‘We’ll know she’s back to normal when she’s bossing the boys and Pat about.’

‘And the priest!’ Fintan said. ‘Did you hear Mona sayin’ that he’s coming out to the house tomorrow before eleve
n o’clock Mass to give Lily communion?’

‘No, I missed that,’ Sophie replied, her eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘I must have been chatting at the time.’

‘Talkin’ about the priest – are any of you going to Midnight Mass?’ Kirsty suddenly put in.

‘Your father and I thought we’d go in the morning,’ Sophie said, looking across at Fintan. ‘We’ve been on the go since early this morning, so we thought we’d head off to bed around ten or eleven tonight.’ She yawned now, shielding her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘But there’s nothing to stop you two from going on your own.’

‘Are you going?’ Heather checked with her sister. ‘I’ll go if you’re going.’ Midnight Mass was usually very nice and sociable. If it wasn’t raining, a group of them often met up outside the church afterwards and went back to one of the houses for a cup of tea and toast or maybe a bit of Christmas cake.

Kirsty shrugged. ‘OK then, we might as well get it over with, and have a long lie in the morning. Anyway, you always get a good laugh wi’ the drunks that come in after the pub.’ She went into peals of laughter at the thought. ‘D’you remember Michael Murphy last year? He hadn’t a leg to put below him, and then he missed the kneeler at Communion and banged his knee onto the floor!’

Heather started tittering at the memory. ‘And what about the year the choir got all mixed up and half of them were singing the wrong hymn?’

‘Enough now, ladies!’ Fintan warned, his face suddenly serious. ‘That’s no way to be talkin’ about the Church on Christmas Eve – it’s no way to be talking about the Church at any time.’ His eyes flicked from one to the other. ‘I’m very surprised at ye both now.’ The girls looked across at each other now, realising they’d gone too far. Their father was usually so easy-going that sometimes they forgot that religion was a touchy subject.

He nodded towards Heather. ‘You were happy enough going to the Legion of Mary for years.’ He looked over at his younger daughter now. ‘And up until a couple of years ago, Kirsty, you used to paint the statues for the crib every Christmas.’ He stopped for breath, and to calm himself down a little. ‘I don’t mind the odd little joke . . . but after all the problems we’ve had wi’ poor Lily and everythin’ – it’s to our religion we should be turning and not making a mockery out of it.’

‘Och, you know we were only kiddin’, Daddy,’ Kirsty said in a low, placating voice.

‘You know we’re not serious when we’re goin’ on about anything to do with the Church, isn’t that right, Heather?’

‘Of course,’ Heather confirmed. ‘We were only carrying on.’

‘Well, you might try to find something more suitable to be skittin’ about,’ Fintan said, but there was definitely a lighter note in his voice now.

They all halted now as the doorbell went.

‘Oh, that might be Liz,’ Heather said, getting up from the sofa. She turned back to Kirsty.

‘She said she wanted a wee word with you when she was here.’

‘What about?’ Kirsty asked, surprised. Liz was Heather’
s friend and although they often went out in a crowd to
gether, she normally wouldn’t have anything very privat
e or personal to say to Kirsty.

Heather shrugged. ‘I haven’t the foggiest what she wants, she never said.’ She looked at her mother. ‘If it’s all right, I’ll take her into the kitchen for a cup of tea and see if she wants anything to eat.’

‘There’s a fancy tin of biscuits in the bottom cupboard that I bought for Christmas, and if you like I’ll come in later and make you both a Snowball,’ Sophie offered.

‘That’s awful nice of you!’ Kirsty said, her face a pictur
e. ‘I made a cup of tea for everybody earlier, and nobody mentioned Fox’s biscuits to me!’

‘You’re not a visitor,’ Fintan said, winking over at her, ‘and you just have to wait until one comes, like the rest of us.’

Kirsty laughed, relieved that her father had let the argument go.

Chapter 29

Heather and Liz went into the kitchen, where they first of all exchanged Christmas presents and then Liz showed her the Mickey Mouse jigsaw puzzle that she’d bought for Lily. She’d left the end of the Christmas paper wrapping open, so that she could just slide the jigsaw out to show Heather. ‘Jim said the best thing to get her was something that other people could help her with – you know with her arms not being as strong as before. He said that it would keep her from bein’ too bored either in bed or lying on the couch all day.’

‘That was really sensible of him,’ Heather said, nodding her head in agreement. ‘She loves things like that, and it’l
l definitely pass the time. I was sitting with her this afternoon, while she was reading one of those pop-up picture books, and she had to have it propped up on a cushion, while she had a cushion under the arm she was trying to turn the pages with.’

‘That polio is a blidey curse,’ Liz said, wrapping the jigsaw back up again and sticking the ends down with the small roll of sticky tape she’d brought in her handbag. In certain things, Liz was very organised. ‘And Lily was lucky, because she looks as though it’s going to wear out of her system. We had a cousin from England that had it about five years ago, and he was in one of those iron-lung things for ages.’ Her voice dropped. ‘But he’s never been right since. He’s in a wheelchair and he can’t walk or anything.’

‘Well, the doctors are keeping a close eye on Lily,’ Heather reassured her friend, ‘and they said that all the right signs are there for a good recovery.’ She bent down to the bottom cupboard and took out the gold biscuit tin.

‘Well, I’m delighted for her,’ Liz said now. She tied the red string she’d brought around the wrapped jigsaw puzzle now that her friend had inspected it and deemed it suitable. ‘I’ll leave that on the windowsill,’ she said now, ‘and I’ll drop it in at Mona’s on my way home.’

‘So what’s brought about the big change in Jim?’ Heather asked as she struggled with the strong tape that ran all the way around the seal on the biscuit tin.

‘What big change?’ Liz said, a defensive look creeping into her grey-blue eyes. She took off her black-and-white checked wool jacket and hung it on the back of the kitchen chair, then she sat down with her thin legs crossed.

‘Well,’ Heather said, going into the drawer for a knife, ‘for a start, you’re always complaining that he never seems keen on going into your house, and yet he went in quite happily yesterday.’ She found a small bone-handled knife. ‘And sec­ondly, he was far nicer to you than he usually is.’ She glanced at her friend’s tight face. ‘And don’t go getting all annoyed with me for saying it, because it’s you that tells me all these things.’

A blush came to Liz’s face, and she gave a small embarrassed laugh. ‘OK,’ she said, nodding, ‘maybe there is a wee bit of a change in him . . .’

‘Well?’ Heather said, waiting. She tucked her wavy dark hair behind her ears, and then attacked the sticky tape around the biscuit tin with the knife.

‘Can you keep a secret?’ Liz said, looking anxiously at the door that led out to the hall. ‘We don’t want anybody to know until tomorrow.’

Heather put the knife and the biscuit tin down on the table, and turned to give her friend her whole attention. ‘What?’ she asked, not having the foggiest idea as to what her friend was talking about. ‘What’s going on?’

‘You’re not going to believe it,’ Liz said in a softer voice now. ‘Jim’s asked me to get engaged.’

Heather’s mouth opened and shut in shock. ‘Oh my God!’ she said, not knowing quite what to say. This was the last thing she’d expected, because the last few times she’d spoken to Liz, she’d been convinced that Jim would finish with her and start spending more time in pubs and at the dancing with Gerry.

‘Well,’ Liz said, with an injured look on her face, ‘you might say
Congratulations
or something like that . . .’ Her head and shoulders drooped now, the way they always did when she was upset.

Heather immediately felt guilty. ‘Of course I’m pleas
ed,’ she said, leaning across to put her arms around her friend. ‘If it’s what you want, then I’m delighted for you.’

Liz lifted her head and looked Heather straight in the eye. ‘It’s what I’ve always wanted – I’ve loved Jim since we were at school together.’ She paused. ‘You know I’ve always loved him.’

‘Well, if he’s asked you to get engaged,’ Heather said brightly, ‘then he must love you a lot as well – so it’s absolutely brilliant news.’

‘What’s brilliant news?’ Kirsty said, coming in the door. Her blonde curls bounced as she looked from one to the other. ‘Come on, come on!’ she demanded. ‘What have I missed?’

Heather shot a glance across at her friend, not wanting to say anything she might be blamed for later. If Liz wanted to tell Kirsty all about it, then that was up to her.

‘Oh, I’m awfully sorry – I’ve obviously butted in on some highly confidential information,’ Kirsty said, rolling her eyes, and closing the kitchen door tightly behind her. She sat down at the table beside them now and waited. She knew eventually that something would be said one way or the other.

‘You won’t breathe a word?’ Liz said at last, two pink dots appearing on her cheeks.

‘You promise, Kirsty?’

‘Of course I promise,’ Kirsty said indignantly. ‘Who am I goin’ to tell anything to?’

‘Plenty of people,’ Liz said, looking at Heather knowingly
. ‘
You work in the local chemist’s for a start, and it’s the kin
d of place everybody yaps about everybody else in.’