Towards a Dark Horizon (23 page)

Kit glanced over at her husband. He was standing with the Malloy family and, although they weren’t all laughing together, at least they weren’t arguing.

Kathleen came over to Ma’s chair. She had taken her veil off but she still had on her wedding dress. It had been hand sewn but very well done I noticed. Although the material was a thin shiny satin, the dressmaker had sewn the waistline with shirring elastic and there was a gathered overlay in front, similar to an apron.

‘You make a lovely bride, Kathleen,’ I said truthfully.

She smiled and blushed.

My heart ached for her. Please let her be happy, I thought.

Ma had taken off her black coat but her dress was also in black. She looked more suitably dressed for a funeral than a wedding but, as this was her usual mode of dress, no one took any offence.

Maggie appeared and spoke to Kathleen. ‘Chrissie is wanting to see you, Kathleen.’ She indicated the bridesmaid in the blue frock.

She gazed fondly after her. ‘Aye, she’s a right bonny bride, Kit.’

Kit returned her gaze and said, ‘Aye, she is – although she wasn’t so blooming in the early days of her pregnancy because of morning sickness.’

Maggie made a sympathetic face. ‘Bad was she?’

Kit nodded. ‘Mind you, I was the same when I was expecting my bairns so she probably takes it after me.’

‘I liked her dress, Kit,’ I said, trying to change the subject away from the perils and trials of morning sickness.

‘We got it from Maggie,’ said Kit.

Maggie then launched into the origins of the dress. ‘Aye, old Mrs Morris made it a few years ago for my first laddie’s wife and it’s been used by the other two brides. Now it’s Kathleen’s turn.’

‘Well, it’s lovely,’ I replied.

Maggie laughed. ‘Aye, Mrs Morris had to make it to accommodate my first daughter-in-law’s waistline because she was expecting a bairn as well. Then, lo and behold, did we not find out that the other two brides were in the same condition?’

Looking at the four Malloy men and their father I could well believe it.

I noticed the small back bedroom had been turned into a bar. The women had all been offered a small glass of sherry but the men had a crate of beer for themselves. Memories of the night of Dad Ryan’s wake swam into my mind but I pushed them away. This was a celebration and not a death I said to myself.

The men were getting merry and I saw to my dismay that Sammy was almost legless. He kept coming to the door and shouting over to his new bride. Meanwhile, she ignored him and stood chatting with Chrissie and Danny. Chrissie kept glancing at Danny with large eyes that were the best feature of her plain face. Maybe she was secretly hoping that it would be her turn next.

‘Where are they going to stay, Kit?’ No one had mentioned this thorny question that had hung in the air for the last few weeks.

Still, it seemed as if a solution had been found as Kit explained. ‘Well, for the time being, they are going to stay with Ma because she has the wee spare back room.’

Maggie butted in, ‘I was just telling Kit that old Mrs Morris is not long for this world. Now I’m really chummy with the rent man and I thought of asking him if Sammy and Kathleen can get her house.’

What a world, I thought – the old woman wasn’t dead yet but already there were plans being made for her house. Then I realised that, in this world of little money and no prospects of work, you had to stay one step ahead all the time. These people didn’t have the luxury of taking life slowly.

Maggie was still chattering on. ‘Aye, Mrs Morris is on her last legs, poor soul. Her house is tiny and just the one room but it would do the young couple for the time being. Mrs Morris is the woman who made the wedding frock. She was a great dressmaker in her day and she worked in a big house – a seam-stress to a lady something or other who had this whole army of servants.’

I glanced at Kit and she looked tired. She had taken off her brown coat and she was wearing a wool frock in a deep shade of green that, in her youth, would have suited her deep auburn hair. Tonight she simply looked pale and slightly faded. Did she have high hopes for Kathleen or did she view it as a wasted life? At not quite seventeen and now married and expecting a baby?

A roar of laughter exploded from the back room. Hattie said brightly, ‘The wedding breakfast is a huge success, Kit!’

Kit nodded but I could almost read her mind. ‘It is for some folk.’

Maggie had now attached herself to Danny and she was telling him some story, her arms moving around as if to emphasise her words.

Kit smiled. ‘She’s not a bad sort is Maggie and I suppose the men in the family are not all bad either. It’s just when they get a drink inside them then they become demons. If only they would stay sober.’

Hattie looked at me over the top of Kit’s head. She said nothing but her expression said it all.

I asked, ‘Has Maggie just got the four laddies, Kit?’ I wasn’t really interested but it was merely to break the spell of Hattie’s look and the ensuing silence.

Kit nodded. ‘Aye. Although she had twelve bairns, most of them died in infancy. Aye, she’s had a hard life – just like the rest of us.’

At that point, Kathleen’s three new sisters-in-law crowded around her and I noticed with sadness that they all looked worn out and dowdy. Kathleen’s beauty shone out like a beacon but was it her lot in life to become like them? No doubt these three women had all been lovely on their own wedding days.

Another roar of laughter came from the back room and Sammy staggered out.

‘Where’s my wife?’ He glared at the guests then collapsed on the floor.

His father came out and lifted him up. He smiled apologetically to Kathleen. ‘He’s not aye like this.’

Maggie’s voice was shrill. ‘He bloody better not be.’

I tried not to look at Hattie or Danny. I knew they would be appalled and Danny would be very angry.

There was something I was dying to ask – something that had been sparked by what George had said on my last visit. I said to Kit, ‘George said that Maggie wasn’t married to Mick. He said she was a common-law wife. What’s that Kit?’

For the first time that night, Kit laughed. ‘Och, you’re no’ to believe George. He might think it but look at it this way. Do you honestly believe Maggie would still be with Mick Malloy if she wasn’t legally married to him?’ She stopped and looked over at Maggie who was now gesturing some command to her daughters-in-law. ‘Oh, no, she’s married to him. A common-law wife is one that lives with a man but doesn’t get married to him. It’s quite common and, although the union is not legally binding, most of these couples do live together for years.’ She gazed at me intently. ‘You’re not thinking of doing that with that young man of yours, are you, Ann?’

It was now my turn to be appalled and I turned a bright red. ‘Oh, no, Kit. I was just … curious …’ I stammered.

‘Och, I’m just kidding you on, Ann,’ she laughed.

It was now time to leave. Hattie, Danny and I said our farewells to the assembled company – well, everyone except the groom. He was snoring loudly on the bed in the back room, surrounded by empty beer bottles.

Kit said, ‘Tell your Dad that we appreciate him coming – and Lily as well.’

Hattie had considered getting a taxi home but she didn’t like to show this display of money in front of people who had so little so we caught the tramcar back to the Overgate. When we were seated in its dubious warmth, Hattie turned to me. ‘Where is your father, Ann? I thought he would come back for the wedding breakfast but he left as soon as the service was over.’

‘He took Lily back to Granny’s because he thought Kit would have enough to feed without them, Hattie.’

Thankfully, she accepted this explanation but consideration for Kit’s feeding arrangements had nothing to do with it. After depositing Lily with her granny, he was rushing off to Margot.

The flat was taking shape but he said he had a hundred and one jobs to do for her. It was totally insane this new image and I wished he was back to the old father I knew and loved.

Hattie turned to Danny who was sitting behind us. ‘What do you make of the groom, Danny?’

His lips were firm and he didn’t smile. ‘I’ll tell you this – he’d better treat Kathleen right or else he’ll hear from me.’

For the remainder of the journey we sat in silence, all of us with our own private thoughts and recollections of the day that was almost over, of Kathleen’s wedding day – a day that saw the radiant bride in a hand-me-down, cheap, shiny dress and a groom who was legless in the back bedroom. Some wedding night!

It was strange but, for years afterwards, I was able to recall every detail about the thirtieth of April – the day Dad and Margot arrived at the house to inform us of their wedding.

I was on my knees, washing the kitchen floor, while Lily sat at the fire with her colouring book and crayons – just a normal Saturday afternoon.

Dad appeared first, looking handsome and slightly flushed. To my surprise, he was dressed in his new suit.

‘I’ve got some news for you both,’ he said, stuttering slightly in an effort to impart something important. ‘Margot and I have just got married!’

He went to the door and his new bride was waiting to come in. She looked stunning in a pale lilac dress with a matching hat, a tiny confection of tulle with a spotted veil.

I, on the other hand, was conscious of my old skirt and tatty apron plus the fact my hair was held back from my face with two large Kirbygrips.

She stepped into the room and immediately everything looked shabby and worn. It was as if a diamond had been set in a lump of lead.

Lily sat in silence and gazed at them with eyes as large as saucers while I stood by the side of my bucket like Cinderella.

Dad chided us both, ‘Well then, Ann and Lily, are you not going to welcome the new Mrs Neill?’

How did one welcome a new stepmother? With a kiss or a nod or a cup of tea?

I stepped forward and shook her gloved hand. Noticing with dismay the wrinkled state of my fingers. They resembled ten prunes.

Lily ran forward at the same time but she ignored Margot. Instead, she threw her arms around Dad’s legs and uttered something we couldn’t make out.

Meanwhile, I took advantage of this encounter to empty my bucket down the sink. Thankfully the house was clean and it smelled fresh as I had been on the last chore of the weekly clean.

I plumped the cushion up on the fireside chair. ‘Sit down, Margot, and I’ll make a cup of tea.’

She sat down delicately, looking as if she had been invited to Buckingham Palace and had stumbled into the garden shed by mistake. Although her expression gave little away, I could well imagine her comparison with her last house and this new unknown flat. Still, she wouldn’t be staying here.

Dad remained standing. ‘Don’t bother with tea for us, Ann. We’re having a quiet day today but we’re planning a get-together next Saturday for all the family.’ He stopped and looked at his new wife.

She resumed the story. ‘Yes, it’ll be in our house in Victoria Road. I’ll write the address down and we’ll leave it to you Ann to invite your grandparents, Hattie and Danny – Greg too if he can manage.’

Lily opened her mouth to speak but I gave her a warning glance and she remained silent.

Dad said, ‘We’re going away for a couple of days. I’ll speak to my boss and get Monday off work so we’ll see you all next week.’ On that note they departed, leaving behind a fragrant scent of some expensive perfume.

As our kitchen window overlooked the Hilltown, we looked out after they had gone. I was sure Lily was going to shout out at their retreating figures so I held her back. I expected to see them walk away down the hill but, to my amazement, they got into a taxi which had obviously waited for them – what an expense.

Then, as I closed the window, the reality of the situation hit me. Dad normally worked on a Saturday morning and got his wages at the end of the shift. On a normal weekend, this meant I would have my housekeeping money by now – but not today. He had gone off with his new wife and left us with my small wage from the shop. That was enough to pay the rent and keep some pennies for the gas meter but it wouldn’t stretch to a week’s shopping.

Lily had her own thoughts. They didn’t hinge on money but she was very unhappy. ‘What will happen to us, Ann? Has Dad left us on our own?’

I tried to sound cheerful. ‘No, of course he hasn’t, Lily. When folk get married they go off on a honeymoon and that’s what Dad and Margot have done. He knows you’ve aye got me to look after you.’

Lily looked doubtful and I didn’t blame her.

‘Come on – we’d better give Granny and Grandad the good news.’

There was no taxi for us as we made our way to the Overgate. It was a strange day of sunshine and showers. One minute the sun shone brightly with a brilliant glow and the next it was blotted out by black clouds that bunched up like dirty cotton wool.

Lily said, ‘We don’t need her address, Ann – we know where she lives.’

‘Aye, we know that but she doesn’t. Now remember not to tell her that we’ve been in her house before. Now mind that, Lily.’

Childlike, she clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Och, I forgot.’

‘Well, as long as you don’t forget when we visit them next week.’

My grandparents were just finishing their dinner when we arrived and Lily eagerly accepted a bowl of broth.

Granny was surprised by our visit. ‘I wasn’t expecting you today. Did you leave your dad with his dinner and decide to come and see us?’

Before we reached the house I had also warned Lily to let me tell them the news first and, although she hadn’t looked happy about it, she agreed. I hadn’t made up a speech on my way here and, because there was no way I could break the news gently, I just stated quite bluntly, ‘Dad and Margot have just got married, Granny.’

I then realised I should have broken the news more subtly because her face drained of all colour and she sat down. Grandad’s cup clattered against the saucer.

He was angry. ‘He’s done what?’

I went to sit beside Granny and she began to regain some colour in her cheeks.