When Daddy Comes Home (8 page)

The tears streamed down her face as she walked the short distance to the gate lodge. She let herself into the house that now felt unbearably quiet and went straight to her bedroom.
Once there, she clutched her pillow for comfort and wept for the loss of the companion of her childhood.

Her only comfort was that she knew that she had returned the dog’s love with this final gift, of allowing her to slide, secure in the love of her mistress, into a painless last sleep.

A
ntoinette was going on her very first date and suddenly she felt like a carefree teenager. Derek wanted to take her for a meal in a new restaurant that had opened in Belfast. It was a Chinese one, the first there had been in the city, and Antoinette, who had only heard about this strange food, was excited at the thought of it.

At the dance hall in Belfast the Saturday before, a stocky blond man of about twenty had asked her for the first dance then hardly left her side. It was not until a slow tune was being played that he said, ‘You don’t remember me, do you? I danced with you nearly a year ago at the marquee in Lisburn.’

She looked more closely at him. ‘Oh, yes! I remember you,’ she said as she realized he was the round-faced boy who had led her on to the dance floor for the last waltz. ‘You were a bit forward, weren’t you?’ she said, but smiled to show she didn’t mean it nastily.

Derek smiled back at her and as the evening progressed, Antoinette realized that a year had changed him from a nice boy to a young man with social skills. He bought her soft drinks, none of which had a trace of the smuggled vodka that Antoinette had come to like but she was having too good a
time basking in the admiration she could see in his face to care. Her eyes sparkled back at him. She liked the way he looked. In his sports jacket and cord trousers, he was different from the crowd she was used to.

‘I’ve been looking out for you ever since that night we danced together,’ he confided to her.

‘Really?’ It was hard to believe. She was more used to trying to avoid sweaty hands when their owners had become worse for drink than having an admirer seek her out with real interest. She felt dazzled by him – he was no boy looking for a quick grope, but a young man who wanted to get to know her properly and spend time with her. When he asked her if she would be interested in going out for dinner with him, she was overwhelmed and tried to hide her excitement as she accepted.

It was the first time she had been asked out for a proper date, something she knew all the girls who made up her group at the dances hoped for. She wanted to share her pleasure with her mother, wanted her to be happy for her but some instinct told her that Ruth would not be pleased.

The weeks since her husband’s return had taken their toll and now Ruth’s face seemed permanently set into an expression of discontent. The good humour that her husband had shown on the eve of Judy’s death had quickly faded and once again he was seldom home at the weekends without giving any reasons.

If Derek had only wanted to take me out on a Saturday, she thought, as she went home that night. Then I wouldn’t have to tell my mother or my father anything about it. But there’s no excuse I can come up with for being out late on a week night. No – I’ll just have to tell her, and hope that she gives me permission.

She knew that the reason she was allowed out on a Saturday night was not just because that concession had been granted before her father had returned. Although he might have liked to stop her he had not yet come up with a good enough excuse as he knew very well that Antoinette’s contribution to the household bills eased the burden on him. If he pushed her too far and she left, he might have to increase his own contribution.

As she had so many times, Antoinette wished she had a normal family. She longed to have two parents who wanted what was best for her, instead of a father who tormented her with his bullying and a mother who had little interest in anything except keeping the peace at the cost of her daughter’s happiness.

I could make something up to explain why I want to go out, Antoinette thought. I could tell her I’m going to the cinema with a girlfriend…No, it’s no good. She knows I don’t have any close girlfriends. She’d never believe me. She’d make me say who it is, ask me to bring her to the coffee shop to meet her…

The girls in Antoinette’s group only met to frequent the dances, as it was impossible to go to dance halls alone, and they had little contact with each other outside their socializing, as Ruth knew very well. It would be hard to fake a sudden friendship.

At sixteen, Antoinette knew friendship was dangerous. It brought with it questions and she didn’t want to give answers about her past or her present. She seldom allowed herself to feel any loneliness or to want the friendship of another girl of a similar age. She remembered only too well how the girls at her school, some who had known her for several years, had turned against her when the facts of her pregnancy came to light.

Antoinette understood that the girls she went to the dances with would disappear from her life the moment they had a boyfriend. She accepted their lack of interest in her and felt relief that she aroused so little curiosity.

I’ll tell her, she decided, and then see what happens.

The next day, she found her mother on her own in the kitchen.

‘I’ve been asked out,’ Antoinette said, as casually as she could. ‘A young man named Derek wants to take me to dinner on Thursday. I said I could go. Is that all right?’

Watching carefully, she saw conflicting emotions on her mother’s face: there was worry and fear, as well as a reluctance to refuse Antoinette such a simple and normal request.

What is my mother so afraid of, she wondered. She knew that they were both afraid of her father, in their different ways, but nevertheless she had the instinctive feeling that there was another aspect to her mother’s fears. After all, normal friendships and normal relationships meant questions that Antoinette would have to answer. Perhaps, one day, Antoinette would tell someone the truth and the whole carefully constructed edifice, the life that Ruth had tried so hard to build and to believe in, would come crashing down.

Antoinette watched her struggle with her doubts, but then Ruth relented with a sigh. ‘All right, you can go. I can see how much you want to, and as you’ve already said yes, I don’t suppose I can stop you.’ Then she added, ‘But I think it would be better if Daddy thought you were just going to the cinema with a girlfriend. Get this boy to bring you back to the coffee shop after the meal as I’m working the evening shift so you can come home with me.’

‘All right then. Thank you, Mummy.’ If that was the price of a night with Derek, then she was willing to pay it, even though she had been looking forward to being driven home to the gate lodge in Derek’s car. Deep down, she knew her mother wanted to keep the peace within the house and that once again Ruth had taken the easy option of becoming an accomplice to her husband by pandering to his dominance.

She pushed aside the niggling question of why her father would have minded her having a date to the back of her mind. She also avoided asking herself why her mother had suggested hiding the fact from him. Deep down she knew the answers to both and she was not ready to cope with those answers yet, so she pushed them away and hid them from herself.

The night before her dinner date, Antoinette inspected her wardrobe, looking for a suitable outfit and discarding dresses one by one. She looked finally at her favourite yellow dress but Derek had already seen her in it, so that was no good. Like most girls of her age who loved clothes, she valued quantity over quality: shopping and being seen in new outfits was what mattered. Feeling that the clothes she had worn to the weekly dances would not be quite suitable, she persuaded herself without much difficulty to break into her savings. She had already found there is nothing quite as seductive as new clothes wrapped in tissue then placed in a smart carrier bag with the logo of a well-known boutique emblazoned on the side.

The next day she left the house early to go to the boutique where she had already seen the outfit she wanted on an elegant mannequin in the window. On the way, she kept her
fingers crossed that the two-piece she had her eye on would still be there and, more importantly, that it would be in her size. She arrived at the shop one minute after opening time and saw to her relief that the coveted outfit was still there. Once the shop assistant had taken it off the mannequin, she found to her delight that it was a size twelve, her size.

As she preened in front of the mirror in it, she felt it was just the perfect outfit for her date: a straight navy skirt with a matching jumper trimmed with white cuffs and a large white sailor collar.

My white shoes and matching handbag will be perfect with it, she thought as she handed over the money. Then she went to Woolworth’s and browsed through their Rimmel range. She chose a pale pink lipstick of a similar colour to the half a dozen she already owned. Finally she treated herself to a bottle of Blue Grass perfume and, delighted with her purchases, took herself for a coffee at a nearby café.

There she sat, surrounded by her bags, lost in a dream that she had been welcomed into smart society. She was invited to parties where, dressed in fabulous clothes, she was the centre of attention. She saw herself glass in hand, elegant in high heels, regaling a crowd of admirers with witty stories. Other girls, with envious eyes, asked her for fashion tips.

She came back to earth when she glanced at her watch and saw it was time to go to the coffee shop to commence her lunchtime shift. At work, tables had to be laid, cutlery polished and glasses wiped but all the time Antoinette had a wide smile plastered to her face as she served and cleared tables. She couldn’t stop thinking about the evening ahead.

Derek was going to collect her from the coffee shop. Work finished at five thirty; she had made an appointment at the hairdressers next door, for she wanted her hair as well as her
clothes to be perfect. Her make-up could be done in their mirror while her hair was being blow-dried and tweaked into shape. Then she could change at the coffee shop and sit with a frothy coffee in front of her, looking nonchalant while she waited for Derek to arrive.

Her mother had arrived for the evening shift when Antoinette returned with her hair freshly styled and her make-up carefully applied.

‘How do I look, Mummy? Do you like my new outfit? Do you think Derek will like it?’ she asked.

‘Very nice, darling,’ was Ruth’s only comment, and she had to be content with that.

Derek turned up at exactly on time and Antoinette introduced him to Ruth. Ruth was the manageress and, unlike the waitresses who had to wear uniforms, wore her own clothes. Derek smiled as he was introduced to her, clearly at ease with her.

She must look like his mother’s friends, thought Antoinette with relief, seeing acceptance on his face. She felt proud of her mother that evening: Ruth’s refined accent and smart suit gave the impression that her background was not just respectable and middle class, but safe. After all, normal parents would care about their teenage daughter and want to protect her; they would want to meet the man who was taking their daughter out and expect their curfew to be kept.

Ruth seemed to know what Antoinette wanted from her, and instinctively became the gracious lady handing the care of her daughter over to someone else for the evening. It was a mother Antoinette was seeing for the first time. As she left she felt like any other teenager on her first date.

The restaurant was everything that she had heard it was. Other restaurants in Belfast favoured brick walls adorned
with hunting prints but this place was painted magnolia, and the pictures were of white-faced women with startling red lips, wearing elaborate clothes. Their abundant black hair pinned into large knots exposed long delicate necks while their slender hands clasped richly coloured fans. The pictures of the exotic women from another continent and the strange tinkling background music captivated her as she felt she had been given a glimpse of a different culture; one far older and more mysterious than her own.

‘This is lovely,’ said Antoinette, as they were shown to their table.

‘I’m glad you like it,’ said Derek. ‘Would you like a drink?’

He ordered some wine and then the menus came. When the menu was placed in front of her, Antoinette was bewildered by the list of meals that bore very little similarity to anything she had ever eaten before. Seeing her confusion, Derek gallantly offered to order for her and within a few minutes small china bowls filled with a clear chicken soup thickened by sweetcorn arrived.

She put the large china spoon into her mouth and gingerly swallowed. A smile of pleasure lit her face. It’s delicious, she thought, simultaneously surprised and delighted: if it’s all like this, then I think I must like Chinese food.

After the soup came something called chop suey. To cater for taste buds of Northern Ireland, a fried egg had been placed carefully on top. She poured a small amount of soy sauce on the side of her plate, scooped up the food with some difficulty and, as she placed it in her mouth, beamed with pleasure.

‘You enjoying yourself ?’ Derek asked with an equally broad smile.

She nodded, and wondered what he would say if he knew that this was not only her first Chinese meal but the first time
she had ever been on a date. But, with female wisdom, she withheld that piece of information. Maybe she would tell him when she got to know him a little better. Instead they talked, a little stiffly, about the dances they had been to and the kind of music they liked. They were little more than teenagers but they were trying to be adults, talking in the kind of way they thought adults did.

After she had swallowed her second sticky liqueur and drunk her final cup of coffee, it was time to go. After all, she had a curfew to keep and she knew, as Derek helped her on with her coat, that he respected her more for it. She felt her cheeks glow with pleasure when he suggested taking her out that Saturday. There was a film he suggested she would like and, not caring what it was, she readily agreed.

She returned to the coffee shop in time to meet her mother.

‘Did you have a good evening, dear?’ asked Ruth when she saw Antoinette.

‘Oh yes, it was wonderful,’ she replied happily. ‘We had a terrific meal…’

She was bursting to tell her mother all about her date, but her mother interrupted her. ‘Good. But, you know, it’s better if you don’t tell your father what you’ve been up to. It would only cause trouble. Perhaps you’d better change out of those clothes before we go home. You understand, don’t you, Antoinette? There’s no need to make your daddy upset.’