Till the Sun Shines Through (29 page)

Katie Cassidy, as she quickly became known, was a fighter, however, and two weeks later left hospital with Bridie weighing four and a half pounds. Ellen and Mary had been busy while Bridie had been in hospital, knitting and sewing tiny garments to fit the little mite who was too small to fit newborn baby clothes.

That first night they had Katie home, Tom put his arms around Bridie and together they looked down at their sleeping daughter. Tom felt he would explode with joy and he pulled Bridie closer, kissing her gently. ‘There's only good times ahead of us now, darling,' he promised. ‘Only good times.'

Bridie smiled at Tom. She trusted him totally and if he said they would be good times ahead then there would be. Maybe it was a good thing that neither of them saw what the next few years would bring.

Little Katie Cassidy continued to thrive, though she didn't grow much. For the first time, Bridie realised and understood her mother's anxiety over her when she was younger.

Tom, though, was delighted by his baby daughter and laughed gently at his wife's fears. ‘Don't be fretting over her size, my darling,' he said. ‘Isn't it said good things come in small parcels? And isn't she fine and healthy? That's what matters, surely?'

But Bridie couldn't help worrying: those damp, unsanitary houses were a breeding ground for disease and squashed together as they were, anything remotely infectious spread like wildfire.

Mary understood, for she felt the same over her two wee boys, though they were far more robust than their cousin Katie, who they were both enchanted with. Ellen and Sam, too, were captivated by the wee baby and both stood in as surrogate grandparents. But still the silence from Ireland continued, even though Bridie had written to her parents and told them all about Katie.

When she suggested Tom do the same and write to his parents, he'd refused. Unbeknown to Bridie, Tom, had received an acknowledgement of his marriage, which his mother had addressed to the Mission hall. It was venomous and abusive and much of the abuse was directed at Bridie. They didn't know her, they said, and had no intention of knowing her, but they were aware of the type of girl she was. Did the two of them know, Tom's mother asked, or did they even care that they could hold their heads up no more? The whole family was a laughing stock. They were bowed down with shame.

Tom threw the letter away in disgust and knew he'd never damage Bridie's fragile confidence by showing it to her. He had no intention of writing again to his parents, who appeared to care more for their standing in the community than his happiness, and he would not allow them to taint Katie's birth with more malicious rubbish. He thought Bridie was wasting her time writing to hers as well, but in her heart of hearts, Bridie hoped the letter might just melt her mother.

Bridie desperately wanted her daughter to be accepted into the family, to be made welcome in her mother's home. But then would she ever let her go there, as young as she was, with Francis on the doorstep? No, by God, she wouldn't. She hated that man with a passion and she knew only through his death would she be free of him. While he lived, he corrupted everything.

Rosalyn had stopped writing to Bridie now, but her letters before she had stopped had been confused and unhappy, asking what she'd done to offend or upset Bridie so much that she could dismiss the years of friendship they'd shared. Her comments hurt Bridie, but not enough to pick up a pen and write back. She knew she was being unfair, but Rosalyn's father was Francis and while she couldn't help that, Bridie couldn't stop her skin crawling when she thought of him, or any member of his family. She couldn't write to Rosalyn as if nothing had happened and they were girls together again.

But, despite her mother's silence and Rosalyn's reproach, Bridie was so pleased to be a wife and mother that it shone out of her. She was determined to do the best she could. Tom felt it was a joy to come home to such a happy wife and smiling baby and would play each evening with wee Katie while Bridie put the finishing touches to his dinner.

The guilt Bridie felt was still there, and she knew would probably never leave her, but it was lodged deeper within her now, and she promised herself she would make sure neither Tom or Katie would ever suffer because of it.

Not only was she a happy and contented mother, she was a passionate and responsive lover. She never spurned Tom, or claimed she was tired, or had a headache, in fact she seemed to enjoy their lovemaking as much as he did. He knew this wasn't the case with a lot of women and he counted himself a lucky man.

‘The
Evening Mail
claim there are two million unemployed now,' Tom said one night, shaking the paper in impatience. ‘1935, and things are getting worse. Many of the people are starving and no one seems to care. The Mission can only do so much.'

‘I know,' Bridie said. ‘And any weans dressed respectable at all are often wearing
Evening Mail
outfits. Now Mary's Jamie has started St Catherine's, he said a man comes around and looks at their shoes and clothes. If he thinks a child needs it, he comes back with boots and stockings.'

‘They'd pawn them for the price of a decent meal,' Tom said dejectedly. ‘I often think that's what happens to some of the families we try to help with warmer clothes. And then I think would I act any differently if I was as hungry as many of them are?'

Bridie gave Tom a kiss. ‘You do your best, love,' she said, for she knew he took his work seriously. ‘And maybe some of the stuff you give out is pawned, but the
Birmingham Mail
boots and stockings can't be because they're stamped. Pawnbrokers wouldn't take them. They'd get into terrible trouble if they were found out. Jamie said some children get jumpers and skirts or trousers as well and not everyone is grateful for it either.'

‘Aye. Pride, you see.'

‘Pride,' Bridie said scornfully. ‘I'd rather have less pride than let my children freeze to death.'

‘Easy to say when we're not in that position,' Tom reminded her gently. ‘We're the lucky ones, Bridie.'

Bridie knew they were. Tom didn't earn much at this job, but it was better than the dole and if it wasn't for Peggy McKenna popping in whenever she took the notion, she'd be able to manage their money better.

Nobody was surprised, though, that in those mean little streets with the gangs of unemployed man in clusters about them, little fuss was made of the Silver Jubilee on 6
^th
May. ‘When you're living hand-to-mouth and never sure where the next bite is coming from, where's the money for party fare, or any form of jollification at all?' Ellen declared one evening when she popped around with Sam.

Sam, usually such a quiet man, agreed with his wife, but went further: ‘If you ask me, this government would be better if they'd spent more time studying Germany and what's happening there, and less on a celebration to benefit just a few.'

There were disturbing tales coming out of Germany over the way the Jews were being treated: some of them had escaped to Britain and what they said was shocking, too shocking, many believed, to be true.

‘Do you think these things we're hearing from Germany are facts then, Sam?' Tom asked. ‘You don't think it's just scaremongering?'

‘No, I don't,' Sam said. ‘I don't like this chap Hitler. He's not building up his armies for the fun of it.'

‘But
is
he? Isn't it just propaganda?'

‘No, I'm pretty certain it isn't.'

‘Well,' Tom said. ‘I just hope you're wrong.'

But Bridie knew Tom respected Sam's grasp of the situation. Ellen and Sam now had a wireless and could listen to the news as well as read about it in the papers. Bridie knew Tom would love a wireless, but he said first Bridie had to have a gas cooker which he was saving up to buy her. Bridie didn't mind cooking over the fire; it was what she was used to anyway, but Tom insisted she have one of the new stoves. ‘When that's bought and installed,' he told her, ‘then we can start putting money away for a wireless. We can only afford to save for one thing at a time.'

Bridie knew that it was sensible of Tom to think this way. She too had a horror of debt and God knows she had enough to shell out, trying to placate Peggy McKenna, as well as to save some money herself. Sometimes the money to buy a new pair of shoes for Katie, or a coat, or even just to survive, had to be borrowed from Mary. This money would be paid back as soon as Bridie could manage it and without Tom being aware of it at all. He'd not like that way of going on any more than Bridie did herself and it might cause him to ask awkward questions she'd be unable to answer.

She would hate to upset Tom; he was such a good husband and a wonderful father. It wasn't too hard to enjoy fatherhood, however, for Katie was proving to be a dream of a child, with a sunny disposition. Ellen said it was not to be wondered at. ‘A happy mother means a happy child,' she declared, delighted to see Bridie so content after all she'd been through.

If it hadn't been for Peggy McKenna, Bridie would have been happier still. But though Peggy still frightened her, she refused to let her destroy her life totally. She knew this was what the woman wanted: to strip away the contentment and love she had for Tom and Katie and reduce her to a blubbering wreck.

Bridie would never let her do that. She was too secure with Tom and her delightful child for Peggy to get a foothold in there. But, despite this, she felt a fluttering of alarm when she missed a period around Christmas time, suspecting there might be another baby on the way and dreading Peggy finding out.

She was thrilled at the prospect of another child, however. Katie, now eighteen months old and both walking and talking, needed a playmate. She kept the news to herself till she could be more certain but hoped it would be a boy for Tom. He always said he didn't care what sex a child was and he had been over the moon when Katie was born, but she knew most men wanted a son and heir.

In January 1936, the King died and his son Edward VII succeeded him. ‘I don't see what difference a new king will make to people like us anyway,' Ellen said. ‘I mean will it give people jobs so that ordinary folk can feed and clothe their families and provide a roof over their head?'

Bridie agreed with Ellen's sentiments, although she was so contented and happy in her own life that she felt almost guilty when she knew for many families there was only poverty and misery.

Though they hadn't a lot of money, it didn't seem to matter that much. They had simple, inexpensive tastes and when Bridie told Tom in early February that she was pregnant again, far from being worried about the added expense, he was ecstatic.

Bridie was over four months gone when Peggy spotted her coming out of the doctor's one day and, although there was nothing physical which revealed Bridie's pregnancy, her suspicions were aroused. A few discreet questions asked of the neighbours, who didn't realise there was any secrecy about it, proved her suspicions to be true. She was furious that Bridie should seemingly go unpunished and be able to have more children after the heinous thing she had done in getting rid of a baby. Determinedly, she set off for the house.

Bridie had been expecting her for days and yet she jumped when the entry door opened. She hadn't seen Peggy approach and no one, except those on official business, ever knocked. Bridie turned and saw the smirk on Peggy's face and felt her heart sink.

She didn't ask what Peggy wanted; she'd know soon enough. She never knew when she would turn up. Sometimes she would leave her alone for a week or two and other times she seemed to be never off the doorstep.

‘So you're sticking your fingers up at God again,' Peggy spat out. ‘Dear Christ, the brazen cheek of you is amazing.'

‘What's up with you?' Bridie said, though she knew full well. ‘I'm having a baby, that's all.'

‘“That's all” she says,' Peggy mocked. ‘Well, God will not be cheated. One day, he'll take those children from you, just see if he doesn't. He'll take his vengeance on you for the child you murdered.'

Bridie opened her mouth to tell Peggy she was wrong, and that her God wasn't like that, just as she had a horrifying mental picture. It was of God descending from Heaven in the shape of a large bird and snatching up Katie and the blanket-clad new baby in powerful vicious talons and flying away with them.

Peggy, watching her face, knew that she'd hit home and she went on, ‘Stands to reason. God will not stand by and see you rear two more children decently after murdering your first.'

‘Peggy, what sort of malicious pleasure do you get out of hounding me like this?' Bridie snapped.

‘No pleasure,' Peggy said, ‘and I'm not hounding you. It's more in the nature of warning you.'

‘Well, you've warned me,' Bridie said wearily. ‘Now get out and leave me alone.'

‘You mind your manners,' Peggy said menacingly ‘or your parents might find a letter on the mat one of these fine days and don't you ever forget it. I'll go when I am good and ready and after you've given me three shillings to take with me.'

‘Three shillings! God in Heaven, Peggy, why do you think I can give you money like this? I gave you four shillings only last week.'

‘Then be thankful I've only asked for three this week,' Peggy said with an evil smile. ‘Come on, cough up.'

Bridie paid up, knowing she had no choice, and also knowing that to last the week herself, she'd have to borrow from her sister again which would mean another lecture on managing her money better.

But while Bridie worried about the money Peggy extracted from her, far more upsetting was the way Peggy spoke about harm befalling her child. During the day, if Bridie kept herself busy – easy enough to do with a small child in the house – she could push such threats to the back of her mind.