All the Days of Our Lives (57 page)

Katie focused on Marek’s face, the growing look of wonder mixed with disbelief, the tension as he read. He clutched the paper to him and said something in Polish. Then he became aware of Katie and Sybil, standing in helpless bewilderment at each end of the hall.

‘God be praised!’ he cried. ‘Look . . .’ He held out the paper, hardly able to speak, either. ‘It is from the Red Cross. It is our sister Ewa – she is in New Zealand!’

He and Agnieska hugged each other, both weeping, and Katie found tears running down her own cheeks and saw that Sybil was very moved as well. Agnieska sobbed, repeating some words over and over again, and it took some time before anyone was able to calm down. Katie went and put her arms round both of them and kissed them.

‘I’m so happy for you,’ she said. She understood now how easily this might not have happened, how equally likely it had been that Ewa was dead.

‘It says she is getting married,’ Marek said wiping his cheeks. He seemed stunned.

‘How marvellous,’ Sybil said gently. ‘You and she both.’

The morning of the wedding dawned as hazily bright and promising as any bride could hope for.

Katie arrived at the church in her pretty, lacy dress and veil to find her father waiting outside, looking very spruce and, she saw, rather dashing. She realized she was very nervous, and she could see that he was too.

‘Is everyone here?’ she asked.

‘I think so,’ he reassured her. ‘They’re waiting for you. Are you ready, my dear?’

She looked up at him. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘I wouldn’t have missed giving my little girl to her husband now, would I?’ He looked at her emotionally. ‘Bless you, Katie. Marek’s a fine man. Don’t take your mother and I as your married pattern – I mean, as if you would! But it can be so much better, believe me.’

‘I know,’ she said with a heartfelt smile. ‘Thanks.

‘Shall we go in?’

Katie gathered herself, then nodded. She walked into the shadowy, incense-perfumed church and began her walk along the aisle, under the gaze of those she loved best. Em was smiling at her, with Norm and Robbie at her side; Sybil, in a very wide-brimmed straw hat, Piotr and his Italian girlfriend Maria; Agnieska and the Arbuckles, who both beamed at her; and Maudie and John, who had Michael with them, in his little suit, gazing in wonder at his mother.

She walked towards the altar, ready to be wrapped in the words that would bind her and her husband together. Among those words would be her chosen psalm: ‘
But thy loving-kindness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life . . .
’ Each step drew her nearer to the end of the aisle, towards her future, where, tall and elegant in his suit, his eyes fixed on her alone, Marek was waiting.

1953

‘When’s Robbie coming, Mom?

‘Oh, Michael,’ Katie said, ‘if you’ve asked me once, you’ve asked me a hundred times already!’ She was busy in the kitchen with Sybil, piling sandwiches onto trays. ‘I told you – everyone’ll be here soon.’

‘There’ll be extra dogs as well,’ Sybil remarked.

‘Will there?’ Katie looked up, a dark curl of hair hanging over her forehead.

‘Well, Joan Lester is inseparable form that Highland Terrier of hers – and Mrs Rogers never goes anywhere without her dog: you know, big black Labrador.’

‘Dogs!’ Michael went off laughing happily. ‘Auntie Agnieska doesn’t like dogs!’

‘Well, your job will be to keep them away from her. And make sure Archie doesn’t lose his temper with them!’ Katie called after him. Archie, rather an elderly dog now, was sometimes short of patience. ‘Go and see if Marek’s all right with the others, will you?’

They were having their own Coronation tea. The big event had been on Tuesday – for which, like so many other householders, Sybil had taken the step of investing in a first-ever television set.

‘It’ll be nice for the children,’ she said, but Katie could see that Sybil was going to enjoy television as well.

They all crowded round for the eleven o’clock service in Westminster Abbey. How exciting it had been to see the young Queen in all her finery! And there had been a little party in the street, but the weather was poor. Sybil had already decided she’d like a get-together, and she and Katie agreed that the following Saturday would be a good opportunity.

‘We’ll just make it tea,’ Sybil said. ‘There’ll be quite a few children, and we can fill everyone up with jelly and cake!’

When the food was ready, Katie went to the back door. Everything was ready: the tables arranged optimistically out there, the cloths pinned at the corners, and all the chairs they could find, plus some borrowed from the Arbuckles. Further down she could see Marek, bent over, holding the hand of their little daughter, Dorothy, who was nearly eighteen months old. Nearby her half-brother Michael, now nine, and her brother Tomas, four, were both clinging to a rope tied from the branch of the tree and trying to swing on it at once.

‘Marek!’ she called, going out towards him. He turned, cupping a hand round his ear.

‘I’m just going up to get changed – they’ll all be here soon. I’ll take Do-do and clean her up too. I suppose she’s been trying to keep up with those two!’

‘It’s hard to stop her,’ Marek laughed. ‘When she wants to do something, she is like a tank!’

Katie laughed, reached up and kissed him, happy to see the contentment in his face. Marek was a complicated man, and sometimes subject to dark moods. She recognized that these could be especially bad on high days and holidays – Christmas and Easter, when he seemed often perversely gloomy. But in the main she had watched him blossom in their love for one another, in the gradual building of a family. And he had helped her blossom, too.

‘Come on, Dorota,’ she said. ‘Time to put on your pretty dress.’

‘No-o-o-o!’ Dorothy, a wonderfully healthy-looking child with dark, curly hair like Michael and brown eyes, clung to Marek’s hand, unimpressed at being dragged away.

Katie had to pick her up, and she wriggled, screaming in her arms, all the way to the house.

‘Tomas!’ Katie called to him. ‘I want to change your shirt.’

Tomas pretended he had heard nothing at all and carried on playing. Of their children, he was the one who closely resembled Marek, a pale, slender boy with a wide, face with strong cheekbones and big blue eyes.

‘I’ll be back for you,’ Katie muttered.

Upstairs she sorted Dorothy out and, once she’d calmed down, the little girl was keen to watch her mother change into her own dress. Katie put on a new sundress she had made, in pink-and-white candy stripes with a full, flowy skirt. She peered in the little mirror trying to see the full effect, and combed her hair. Dorothy made pleased-sounding noises.

‘Come on, you scallywag, let’s go down. Perhaps I shan’t bother changing Tomas – he’ll only be filthy again within five minutes.’

Sybil’s house was still home, but was not to be for much longer. The housing shortage was very acute and Katie and Marek had had their name down on a council waiting list since before Dorothy was born, but were still – like Em and Norm – stuck in the same lodgings. Not that it was a great hardship. Sybil had been very good to them. They knew that wherever they lived now, she would always be part of the family. They had gradually taken over the upper floors of the house. Katie and Marek had their room in the attic, with Dorothy in there still in her cot, and Michael and Tomas were in Marek and Piotr’s old room. Sybil had come to an arrangement with them over the rent, and they both helped out in the house and garden. Marek was still working at the factory and was doing well. One day, he hoped to follow his dream of nursing. One day, he said, he would make the break.

A succession of other single lodgers came and went in the smaller room at the back, and by and large the arrangement worked well. Sometimes, Katie thought, Sybil must get sick of having a young family about, and sometimes she and Marek had longed for their own place, where they wouldn’t have to take anyone else into consideration. But they knew that Sybil was like a mother to both of them, and a grandmother to the Wozniak children. Now, just days ago, they had been allocated a brand-new council house, out on an estate called Tile Cross, and they knew it was going to be wrench to leave Handsworth.

At the mellow mid-afternoon everyone started to arrive. The house and street were still decked out with colourful bunting, rippling in the breeze, from the celebrations earlier in the week and, seeing that it was not showing signs of raining, they started laying out the food. Katie was arranging plates of neat sandwiches on the table when Marek crept up behind her and caught her by the waist.

‘Ooh!’ she squealed. ‘You made me nearly jump out of my skin!’ She laughed as his hands were tickling her.

‘You look very beautiful,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘This dress brings out your curves.’

‘And you’re very naughty, she said. ‘You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on the children, not thinking about my curves.’

He was about to kiss her again when they heard voices and stepped back as Sybil appeared, leading two of her church friends into the garden, with dogs. The Wozniak children all headed straight for the dogs, excited.

‘His name’s Major,’ Katie heard one of the ladies saying. ‘He won’t hurt you – he’s very placid.’

‘And this is Wally,’ the other lady said, trying to keep tabs on a frisky Highland Terrier that was already, to the children’s delight, zooming round the garden. ‘I called him after my late husband . . .’ Archie stood watching this behaviour with disdain.

‘I’ll make the tea,’ Katie said, greeting the ladies and going into the house.

She was excited. It was going to be a lovely afternoon. Soon, as the tea was ready, the Arbuckles appeared from next door, Edna and Susan, with her hulking husband Percy and a large toddler named David. Soon afterwards, Agnieska arrived. She was no longer living with them, as she was in the nurses’ home at Dudley Road Hospital and was looking well, and a little more rounded these days. Her pale hair was long and pinned back prettily, and she was holding a bunch of pinks that she had brought for Sybil.

‘Hello!’ She embraced Katie as she let them in. ‘Oh – it is quiet inside here! Where are the children?’

‘In the garden. Sybil’s friends are here – dogs everywhere, so the kids are full of it.’

‘
Dogs?
’ Agnieska made a face. She had tolerated Archie, but was not an enthusiast.

‘I told the children they had to keep them away from you – it’s their job. But don’t worry, they won’t hurt you.’

‘Your friend is coming?’ Agnieska followed Katie into the kitchen. ‘With baby?’

Katie smiled. Agnieska liked babies as much as she disliked dogs. ‘Em – yes. We’ll get to see her at last.’

‘Her other son is quite old,’ Agnieska remarked.

‘Yes, he’s eleven. It’s a big gap. It seems to be a bit of a miracle. I can’t wait to see them both – Em only had her ten days ago! Oh, and she’s bringing someone else . . . Someone we were at school with.’

‘How nice!’

‘Yes, but I haven’t seen her in years. She’s up visiting, so Em asked if she could come along.’

‘It will make a nice party,’ Agnieska said.

More of Sybil’s friends arrived, and then Piotr with his Italian wife Maria, and their two little daughters, one also a babe-in-arms. He and Marek embraced, slapping each other on the back, and soon the garden was full of chat and laughter, and children roaring, and Wally’s excited yapping as the Wozniak boys chased him around and away from Agnieska.

They all sat and drank tea and began on the sandwiches, sitting around the tables under the trees. Katie wondered where Em had got to, and hoped she was feeling all right. It would be hard work for them all getting over here. Every so often she went into the house and listened to see if anyone was knocking. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Molly Fox coming, yet at the same time she was curious.

It was Michael, who had been looking out for them, who at last yelled, ‘They’re here!’ He was excited about seeing Robbie.

Katie dashed through the house and opened the door to see Em, cradling a baby in a white blanket and beaming at her, with Norm behind her. Michael seized Robbie and they dashed off to the back.

‘Hello!’ Katie cried. ‘Oh, you’ve made it at last! Oh, Em – isn’t she just lovely?’ The baby’s waxy little face lay surrounded by soft folds of blanket, her pale-mauve eyelids gently twitching as she slept.

‘Meet little Christine,’ Em said proudly. ‘Christine Elizabeth, after the Queen.’

‘Oh, lovely, and she’s so perfect – how heavy was she?’

‘Just under seven pounds,’ Em said happily, ‘and she’s feeding ever so well.’

‘Oh, sorry – hello, Norm,’ Katie greeted him. ‘Mustn’t forget the proud dad!’

‘All right, are you?’ Norm said in his rather timid way. She could tell he was shy and hoped the chaotic atmosphere out in the garden might put him more at ease. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Come on in . . . all of you.’ Katie had then become fully aware of the two people standing behind. One was a slightly built woman, with dark-brown hair cut shoulder-length and worn in a straight, plain style, and with slightly prominent teeth. Far more striking was the other, tall and magnificently built, with thick blonde hair piled on her head and wearing a peacock-blue dress that hugged her curves. Her build and way of standing seemed vaguely familiar, as did her face, but she could still hardly believe this was Molly.