The Grace Girls (32 page)

‘How’s your Heather getting on?’ the girl asked now, and a little note in her voice told Kirsty that she’d had a few more drinks due to the festive period than she normally would have. Normally Eileen would be far more reserved, and unwilling to quiz another girl in so blatant a manner. ‘Somebody was telling me she’s moved to an office in Glasgow.’

‘Oh, she’s fine,’ Kirsty said, and then went on to elaborate at great length all about the big shipping office and the important job her sister had, just to annoy the competitive Eileen. A few minutes into the conversation Kirsty felt a hand on her shoulder.

‘I’m just heading out to have a few words in the office,’ Larry told her, squeezing her shoulder and giving her a friendly wink. ‘I won’t be long.’ He gave a nod in Eileen’s direction, then moved out from the table in his easy, confident manner.

‘Who is that?’ Eileen asked in a shocked tone, her eyes following him as he strode purposefully out towards the entrance hall. ‘He’s like a film star . . .’

Kirsty felt elated now, unable to believe how the tables had turned with her old workmate. ‘His name’s Larry Delaney. Actually he’s my manager,’ she said in a deliberately casual tone.

‘So, you’re still singing?’ Eileen said, her voice high with surprise.

Kirsty nodded and finished off her second Babycham. ‘It’s all different now I’m with Larry,’ she said, putting the empty glass back down on the table. ‘All different venues, we’re travelling a lot further out to the bigger places. Glasgow and Edinburgh and all that.’

‘So, he’s your
manager
,’ Eileen said thoughtfully. ‘He’s
not your boyfriend then?’ She clasped Kirsty’s arm, craning her neck to see over to the door. ‘Oh, here he’s coming, b
ack – no, he’s stopped to chat to another fella at the door.’

‘Boyfriend?’ Kirsty repeated vaguely, raising her eyebrows but saying nothing either way.

‘He’s gorgeous,’ Eileen said. She put her head to one side thoughtfully. ‘A wee bit old maybe – but still better than most of the fellas in here. And very well dressed.’

‘D’you think so?’ Kirsty said. ‘I never really thought about it . . .’

‘He’s not married, is he?’ Eileen asked now, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Kirsty shook her head. ‘Not a bit of him,’ she said dismis­sively. ‘Larry Delaney’s not the marrying kind.’

‘He looks the playboy type, right enough,’ Eileen said, a dreamy look on her face. ‘Expensive clothes, big car and everything.’

‘Not at all,’ Kirsty said, laughing. ‘He’s a right down-t
o-earth type.’ She paused for a moment, for the right effe
ct. ‘Mind you – he does have a big fancy car, and it’s lovely and comfortable. He picks me up in it regularly.’

‘I might have guessed,’ Eileen said, standing up. She gave Kirsty a long, knowing look. ‘That’s what the big change in you is all about, Kirsty Grace.’ She thumbed in La
rry’s direction. ‘Don’t try kidding me – it’s quite obvious he’s your boyfriend. I could tell the minute he spoke t
o you. You can’t fool me.’

‘How d’you mean?’ Kirsty said.

‘The way he looked at you. Och, you know fine well what I mean!’ the girl said, giving Kirsty a little friendly push on the arm. ‘Anyway – good luck to you. You’re definitely on to a good thing with him. If you get fed up with him, just let me know.’ She went off in the direction of the ladies’ toilet now, ever so slightly unsteady on her high heels. Kirsty sat for a while, gazing out over the dance floor and digesting Eileen Connor’s words. It was funny, because her old workmate had definitely hit the nail on the head by saying all those things about Larry – the very things that had been going round and round in Kirsty’s head since the night of the dream. But she had convinced herself that the sophisticated Dubliner Larry Delaney was definitely far too old for her – and in a very different league. But now she wasn’t quite so sure about that at all. If Eileen thought they were a couple then maybe it wasn’t such a strange idea after all. Maybe young fellows just weren’t mature and interesting enough for her. Maybe, Kirsty thought, she was like her Auntie Claire who was more suited to older men.

Chapter 36

‘
You’re very quiet, hen,’ Sophie said, as she glanced across the fireside at her elder daughter. The radio programme they had been listening avidly to had just finishe
d. ‘Are you all right?’ Fintan was outside with Pat and Michael in the surprisingly mild night air, tinkering with the car engine by the light of several torches. Sophie thought they were stone mad, and had wondered why they couldn’t wait until the morning to do whatever tinkering had to be done. But, she concluded, that was men for you.

Heather gave a little sigh, and then put the back of the new red jumper she had just started knitting down on her lap. ‘Och, I’m fine, Mammy,’ she said, giving a tight little smile. ‘I’m just a wee bit fed up . . .’

‘Is it about Liz?’ Sophie asked, her voice gentle and low. ‘It’s bound to be a bit of a shock to you.’

The small effort of a smile drained from Heather’s face n
ow, and she wondered if her mother had heard
something.
‘D’you mean about her getting engaged?’ she said lightly.

‘I mean about her having to get
married
,’ Sophie said firmly.

There was a painful little silence, as Heather realised that her mother must have been waiting all day for her to say something. ‘Who told you?’ Heather asked in a small v
oice, wondering if Kirsty had dared to say anything. She
’d kill her if she had! Sometimes her younger sister let things slip, forgetting who she was talking to.

‘Liz’s mother,’ Sophie confirmed. She looked her daughter square in the eye now, as this was a serious matter – as serious a matter as you could get when it came to young girls who were barely out of school. ‘I met her after Mass this morning. There wasn’t too many around in the chapel, and I saw her lighting a candle, so I went over to have a wee word with her and to wish her all the best for Christmas and the New Year.’

‘And what did she say?’ Heather asked, her brown eyes ‘She asked me what I thought about Liz getting engaged, and I just said that quite honestly, I hadn’t heard a word about it.’ There was a little pause, which indicated that Sophie knew that Heather had deliberately said nothing. ‘So, I obviously gave her my congratulations, and said I must send down a wee present for Liz and Jim, when suddenly Mrs Mullen went into floods of tears.’

Heather’s hands flew to cover her mouth, as she pictured the scene. Poor Mrs Mullen must have been distraught, because it was very rare for any woman in Rowanhill to show their feelings like that in public – especially in the chapel. ‘Is she not happy about Liz getting married?’ Heather ventured now.

‘She’s not happy about the circumstances,’ Sophie said. ‘There’s not too many mothers would be.’ She sat forward in her chair now. ‘Mrs Mullen said they haven’t two pennies to rub together. It’s that bad Jim had to get a loan off his brother to buy the engagement ring. And neither Mr
s Mullen or Jim Murray’s mother has any room for them.
They’re going to have to rent a room off his granny.’

‘Oh, God!’ Heather said, remembering that Gerry had told her the same thing last night. Whether it was because he had been drunk and rambling on, or whether she just felt so awkward with him, the dire situation that Liz was now in had not really struck her. Now, listening to her mother, she realised that Liz and Jim getting married was not going to be the joyous occasion it should be.

For some reason Heather was feeling peculiarly guilty about the situation – and she knew it was daft to feel like this, considering it was nothing whatsoever to do with her. She supposed it was because Liz was her best and oldest friend, that people might think she had been behaving the same way herself. ‘It sounds a right disaster,’ she said now, ‘the whole thing.’

‘Well,’ Sophie said, ‘unfortunately that’s what happens when two young people get up to things they’ve no business getting up to. They don’t think that they might have to pay a price further down the road.’

Heather slowly nodded her head, her gaze turning to the orange coals in the fire.

‘I’d no idea that Liz and him were up to things like that,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m as shocked as you.’ She swallo
wed a lump in her throat. ‘I feel as if I don’t know Liz at all . . .’

‘She’s your friend and you do know her, Heather,’ Sophie said kindly. ‘And what’s happened between them is nothing at all to do with you.’ She hesitated. ‘I had the very same thing happen to a good friend of mine.’

Heather looked up at her mother in surprise.

Sophie nodded her head. ‘It’s nothing new, hen. Girls and boys have been making mistakes since the beginning of time.’ She leaned down to the scuttle to lift a few lumps of coal and throw them into the dying fire. She rubbed her hands together now, to remove any little bit of coal dust. ‘In a lot of ways it’s nature that takes over, and some people are too weak to fight against it. All down through the ages. In some creeds and cultures the girls get married off very young, for that very reason. Our Lady herself was supposed to have been a very young girl when she had Our Lord, and then she had to marry Joseph to make it look better – a man who was twice her age.’

Heather stared at her mother, amazed at what she’d just heard. She had fully expected Sophie to go mad about Liz, maybe even call her terrible names. That was the way mothers were supposed to react to these things. The way her Auntie Mona would definitely react when she heard – look how she’d gone on about Auntie Claire the other night. ‘It’s terrible, isn’t it?’ Heather said, tears suddenly coming into her eyes.

‘They’ll work it out, hen,’ Sophie said in a soothing voice. ‘And when the little one comes along, all the bad feeling will be forgotten. It’ll be hard for the first few years and then they’ll make as good a go of it as the next.’

‘You’re probably right,’ Heather said, feeling much better about the whole affair. She picked up her knitting needles, ready to tackle the jumper
again.

‘Is that all that’s wrong with you, Heather?’ her mother probed. ‘You don’t seem yourself at all this evening.’

Heather sighed. ‘Och, I suppose I’m just feeling a bit sorry for myself. I feel that I’ve nobody to go out with now this has happened to Liz. She was the one that organised all the nights out, gathered the rest of the crowd together, and I never realised how much I depended on her.’ She stopped to disentangle a length of red wool. ‘And Kirsty’s all wrapped up in her singing at the minute, so she’s not bothered about going out either. I don’t think I’m going to have much of a New Year.’ She held the knitting up. ‘I’m turning into a right old maid – nothing more exciting to do than sit in every night doing my knitting.’

‘It’s not that bad,’ Sophie laughed. ‘You could be like me – stuck at a sewing machine for half the day every day.’

‘But I’m only nineteen,’ Heather moaned, ‘and only a few weeks ago, I had the social life that a nineteen-year-old should have, and now everything’s changed.’

‘It’s not just the business with Liz that’s changed things,’
Sophie gently pointed out. ‘Don’t forget you were going out with Gerry for quite a long time. You had him to go out wit
h at the weekends, and you’re bound to feel a differe
nce now you’re not. It can take a wee while getting back into a routine with friends.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Are you maybe havin’ second thoughts about finishing with him?’

‘Definitely not,’ came the quick reply. ‘We were never really that suited. For the last couple of months I was only going out with him to keep Liz and Jim company.’ She halted, wondering whether to mention him calling to the house drunk last night. She decided against it. Her mother might just mention it to her dad, and there would be ructions if he knew that her ex-boyfriend had been drinking too much. ‘I know it sounds daft, but I don’t really want to go out to any of the local dances where I might bump into him, because he’s still hoping we might get back together.’

‘What about the girls from work?’ Sophie suggested. ‘You said they’d asked you to go into a show with them. Why don’t you go?’

Heather raised her eyebrows, considering it. She’d had a great time out with them in Glasgow at the Christmas staff meal, and they had been keen on her joining them again.

‘Maybe I should,’ she said. ‘I might give Sarah a ring tomorrow.’

Chapter 37

Larry came striding back to the table a few minutes later, just as the lights dimmed further and the band struck up the lively Dean Martin song; ‘That’s Amore’.

‘D’you want to think of heading home soon, Kirsty?’ he said, checking his watch and yawning.

‘
Home
?’ Kirsty said in a shocked tone. ‘But we haven’t even had a dance yet.’

‘Did you want to dance?’ Larry asked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. As if all the other couples dancing around the floor had just been brought to his attention.

‘Not if
you
don’t want to,’ Kirsty said, all defensive now. She had presumed that Larry would want to enjoy the Christmas party spirit. She had presumed that’s why he had brought her out. ‘I just think it’s a bit of a waste of a good band and a good dance floor
not
to dance. But I suppose you never brought me here for that . . . even if it is Christmas.’