The Grace Girls (62 page)

At lunchtime Heather rushed to collect her coat and sca
rf to get out of the office before the others, and then she headed down into the city centre on her own. She really wasn’t in the mood for company and she still wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do about Sarah. Like the situation with Kirsty, she knew it couldn’t go on for ever, but she wasn’t ready to hold out
the olive branch just yet.

She bought a
Woman’s Weekly
magazine from a news-stand outside the Central Station and then she walked the few yards down to The Trees restaurant. As usual it was pretty busy, and she had to queue by the door until a table became vacant. She was just looking at the small menu deciding what to have, when she heard Danny’s voice over in the queue.

‘That good-looking, dark-haired girl,’ she could hear him telling the waitress, ‘she won’t mind us joining her, because she works in the same office as us.’

A few moments later, Heather had the two lads seated beside her, and after she’d listened to their latest jokes and heard everything that they’d got up to over the weekend, she relaxed and began to enjoy their light-hearted company.

When they’d finished their main course, Maurice went off upstairs to the Gents, leaving Heather and Danny on their own.

‘I wanted to ask you something,’ Danny said, both his voice and face unusually serious. ‘I’ve been asked to a wedding out in Rutherglen in a fortnight’s time, and the invitation is for me and a partner . . .’ He paused, then cleared his throat. ‘I wondered if you would like to come with me? I’ll buy the present and everything, so it won’t cost you anything. You just need to come looking your lovely self.’

Heather felt her throat tighten. ‘Do you mean me to come as a friend . . . or as a girlfriend?’ she asked.

Danny’s face suddenly reddened. ‘I’d love it if you were actually my girlfriend . . . but then you already know that, Heather, don’t you?’ He halted. ‘Maybe we could go to the wedding and see how we got on after that. What d’you think?’

Heather was silent for a few moments. ‘I’m sorry, Danny,’ she said, tears suddenly pricking at the back of her eyes, ‘but I really don’t think I’d be very good company for you the way I am at the minute.’ She swallowed hard on the lump that had formed in her throat. ‘I think you should ask somebody else . . . somebody who would enjoy a nice day out with you.’

Heather felt terrible refusing this lovely, friendly little fellow, but she knew she would only be leading him on by accepting his invitation. She’d already been down that road with Gerry – and she wasn’t prepared to go down it again with another lad who she knew really liked her when she wasn’t sure herself.

Danny nodded his head and managed a brave smile. ‘Och, it was worth a try anyway,’ he said, trying to sound light-hearted. ‘I’ve a few girls on my list . . . but you were the one at the very top.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ she whispered. ‘But I’m not ready to get friendly with another boy for a while . . .’ A tear suddenly dropped on the tablecloth and Danny quickly handed her the paper napkin that was by the fourth, unused set of cutlery.

‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ he told her, patting her hand. ‘My timin’ was never very good with these sorts of things . . . but it’s not worth gettin’ upset about.’

Then, right on cue, Maurice appeared back at the table, and after a wink from Danny he launched straight into the joke they had both planned if his workmate had been given the big knock-back that he had feared from Heather Grace.

Chapter 61

The
following Friday afternoon Lily Grace was discharge
d from hospital. A small party was organised for her that evening, and all her school friends and neighbours gave a great cheer as they watched her step out of the ambulance and then walk very carefully down the path and into the house on the arms of her mother and father.

The journey back home was only the beginning of another road that would take months going backwards and forwards to the physiotherapy department in the hospital, and daily exercises at home. But as always Lily Grace was determined.

She was already back up on her feet and walking around – albeit painstakingly slowly – and her arms were now strong enough to hold her books and write and draw. It had been a long and difficult journey for everyone involved, but she had been one of the lucky children who had survived the polio scourge and not one of the thousands who had been wiped out by it.

She sat laughing at
Mr Pastry
and then she watched a new game show on the television, then Mona helped her upstairs to get changed into her fancier clothes.

Around seven o’clock aunties and uncles and cousins and one or two neighbours arrived at the house to welcome Lily home for good and she sat up in the corner of the couch, with Whiskey curled up in her lap. She was all dressed up in new jeans and a bright pink jumper that Mona had knitted for her during the cold winter nights when she despaired of her only daughter ever coming home again. She had her curly blonde hair tied up in two pigtails, decorated with pink and white checked ribbons.

Her four brothers hung about the house for a while, and when it started to get a bit crowded Michael and Sean went
outside with a cousin to have a look under the bonnet of Pat’s car. They stood chatting in the cold, fiddling around w
ith points and plugs to see if they could work out what was causing the rattling noise when the car started.

The younger brothers, Patrick and Declan, went backwards and forwards with cups of tea and tiny glasses of dark-red, sweet sherry and bottles of beer for the guests, while Mona bustled around with plates of sandwiches and apple tarts and slices of the Christmas cake she had kept especially for this occasion.

Sophie and the girls appeared around half past seven after Heather had got in from work and had eaten and changed into more casual clothes. They came carrying iced buns that Sophie had baked that afternoon and a big cream cake that Kirsty had bought at the baker’s shop next door to where she worked.

To all intents and purposes, it looked as though Heath
er and Kirsty were just the same as always as they laughed and chatted with everyone. Only they knew that they never spoke directly to each other if they could help it, and they never met each other’s eyes. Kirsty was very hurt at her sister’s attitude to her relationship with Larry, and she couldn’t understand it. Apart from the fact there was a bit of an age difference, there wasn’t anything else wrong with him.

Kirsty hadn’t mentioned the connection between him and Helen McCluskey to Heather – or to anyone. She had decided early on that there wasn’t really any point. As Larry had said, David was now living with his mother and the man who was more likely to be his father, so there was no need to dredge that all up. There were bound to be plenty of other men going around who had been accused wrongly of being fathers – and what was the point in advertising it?

Even if Heather had known about David, Kirsty would still have expected her sister to stand by her, to listen to her and to sympathise with her and maybe advise her. But the thing that Kirsty missed most about her sister was sharing the wonderful, exciting bits about Larry with her.

At this delicate stage in the romance – where neither her parents nor her friends knew – Kirsty would have loved to have sat in the kitchen or lain on her bed upstairs chatting with Heather, telling her how it felt when Larry Delaney kissed her and held her and whispered in her ear that he loved her. Instead, she would have to keep all those special things to herself – and that hurt very much.

It hurt that her only sister had distanced herself from her when she needed her most.

There was a great buzz around Mona Grace’s house, almost like a birthday party, and it was exactly what Lily needed to bridge the gap between her coming out of the busy hospital to the relative quietness of her home. It also helped to distract her from missing all the friends she’d made in hospital between the nursing staff and the other young patients, the friends she’d made in a dire and adverse situation, the friends who had helped to get her through the dark, early days when the polio was doing its worst.

Heather sat beside her mother and father on the kitchen chairs that had been lined up against the wall, and shortly afterwards Fintan’s brother Tommy and his wife Janey from Wishaw brought chairs over to sit next to them. Kirsty sat over on the couch beside Lily and Whiskey and Patrick.

Mona came over to Sophie’s group carrying slices of Kirsty’s cream cake on side plates, and after dishing them out, she went back to the kitchen to get her own plate to join them.

‘Have you all had enough sandwiches and everyt
hing?’ Mona asked through a mouthful of cream, looking gratified whenever everyone told her that they had. She finished her cake then turned to Heather. ‘And are you back to your old self now?’

Heather nodded. ‘I’m fine thanks. I went back to work on Monday.’ She picked at a few stray crumbs on her plate.

‘You haven’t been back out to Glasgow since?’ Janey Grace suddenly asked. She was one of those small, bland, mousy-haired Scottish women who you would hardly notice most of the time, but who was quite capable of stirring things up – especially when she was coupled with the fiery-tempered Mona. Both women were more ardent in their love of the Catholic Church and in discussing the rudiments of their housework than Sophie was, and when there was a family gathering they tended to gravitate towards each other. Their conversation usually ran along the lines of the health of their respective parish priests and the disgraceful way that certain parish members let the side down.

‘Oh, I’m in Glasgow every day at work,’ Heather said politely, presuming that Janey wasn’t as up to date on the nieces and nephews as other family members were who lived closer.

‘I know you work in Glasgow,’ Janey said, smiling over at Sophie. ‘I wasn’t talkin’ about your work, I was referring to you visiting the rich relations out in Giffnock – Claire and the husband.’

Fintan, Pat and Tommy Grace suddenly got up from their chairs and went into the kitchen, and Sophie wasn’t sure whether it was a coincidence of timing or whether they didn’t want to have any part in the conversation regarding their sister.

Heather looked over and saw her mother’s anxious expres­sion, and she knew that Sophie would want her to avoid any conflict with her aunts, especially with it being Lily’s special night.

‘No,’ she said in as light-hearted a manner as she could muster, ‘I haven’t been back out to see Claire and Andy recently.’

‘I’d say you’ll be missin’ the nuts and the fancy glasses of wine,’ Janey said, leaning towards Mona, her tight little face smirking with amusement. ‘Just the same way that Andy McPherson must often be missing a good dinner.’

Heather felt her blood run cold. Mona had obviously heard all the details of their visit out at Claire’s and repeated it back to Janey with great delight.

Janey looked over at Mona now and shook her head. ‘All their posh ways, and she can’t even have a dinner on the table for her man comin’ in from work!’

‘Everyone has their own way of going on,’ Heather said, unable to stop herself. ‘And I think the way they live is actually very nice. They have a beautiful house and they made us all very welcome, and Claire really looked after me the day I took not well.’

‘It’s the least she could do,’ Mona stated now. ‘You’re her brother’s daughter. You surely don’t think she was going to turn you away from the door when you were sick and didn’t know anybody else in Glasgow?’

Heather bit down hard on her lip and took a deep breath. She knew perfectly well that nothing she said would make Mona or Janey agree with her, so there was absolutely no point in saying any more.

‘I can knit again now,’ Lily informed Kirsty, holding up a set of small plastic red needles and a ball of yellow wool that had been one of her rejected Christmas presents a few weeks ago. She had a little basket on the floor beside her filled with different coloured balls of wool.

‘So, what are you going to knit?’ Kirsty said, shifting Whiskey further along the couch. She lifted up a ball of black wool and placed it beside the yellow one.

‘I don’t know . . .’ Lily said, pondering the matter.

‘You could always knit yourself a nice scarf,’ Kirsty sug­gested, amusement flickering in her eyes. ‘That black and yellow would go lovely together if you did it in stripes.’ She started to laugh aloud now. ‘You’d look
like a lovely big bumble-bee!’

‘You cheeky thing!’ Lily said, wagging her finger like a teacher at her cousin.

‘You’re only supposed to say nice things to me tonight – I’ve decided that if people aren’t nice to me all the time, I’ll just go back and stay in the hospital.’ She giggled away for a few moments, then her face suddenly became serious as she remembered. ‘Did you not like Frankie the porter that was on my ward?’

‘D’you mean the wee Teddy boy that was goin’ out with the dental nurse?’ Kirsty teased.

Lily tutted and folded her arms. ‘He was really nice – and if you’d been nicer to him and not laughed at him, he might have finished with his girlfriend and started goin’ out with you . . . and then you could have brought him round here to visit me.’ She smiled now. ‘You could even have got married to him, and Heather could have been your bridesmaid and I could have been your flower girl.’

Kirsty shook her head and laughed, delighted that Lily was
back to her old, devious ways of getting what she w
anted. ‘You should be a fairy-tale writer,’ she told her young co
usin, ‘because you have the greatest imaginatio
n.’ She prodded Lily gently on the arm. ‘I wouldn’t have taken that Frankie in a lucky-bag! And I’d love to have seen what the dental nurse was like – she must have been desperate to take him an’ all.’