Dreams Can Come True (8 page)

“It’s not that he loves me or anything and I’ll never love him like I loved my Michael, but I get lonely fer company, especially on a cold winter’s night when I lie in me bed.”

“Well, put a hot water bottle in yer bed, Alice, it’s less complicated than marrying. And yer years older than him anyway, yer know how people will talk.”

“I’m not that much older. Anyway he’s talking of retiring, so we can spend our days together. Visit places as friends. Now that Seamus, that rascally son of mine is living with that woman in Liverpool, I don’t see anybody of me own. Mikey traipsing off to foreign parts, Jack tied up with his horse racing. And you, well, yer have to make an appointment to see
you
. I want somebody I can really call me own.”

“I can’t see you two making a go of it,” professed Maggie. “He’s a pedantic old buffer, but you can be as bad.”

“What’s pedantic? You and yer big words, Maggie. If yer mean that we’re both alike with our tempers, just remember I’ve lived with him as his landlady for all these years. He’s not going ter change towards me, just ‘cos we’re married. It will be as if I have a big bear beside me, that I can cuddle up to in bed.”

“And what about the property? If he wanted, when yer legally married he could insist on saying that Seagull Cottage belonged to him.”

“No, that can’t happen. Jack’s name is on the deeds as well. He made sure of that so Mikey could inherit. No, if Mr. Arlington wants to marry me, it will be for companionship. But just to make sure, I’ll mention the inheritance. Then if that was his only reason, he can go ter Hell instead!”

Maggie laughed and squeezed her mother in law’s hand.

“Yer don’t change do yer, Alice? God help him if that’s all he’s after. Now, you get inside, you’ve the dinner ter make or he’ll be thinkin’ twice about marrying you.”

Maggie leant over the railings and stared across the estuary. They never changed, those far-off Welsh hills, not like life did. Always there, even if sometimes they were covered by cloud. So much had happened since she sailed up the river, all those years ago, but here her view was constant and would be in the future for all the generations that were to come.

She remembered how she would look across there and think of Molly, her sister. Did she go to Australia with the Filbey’s? Was she still there today? Then there was her brother Bernie, who had run away to sea when he was fourteen. He would be thirty four or five now. Was he married, settled down or beneath the ocean somewhere? In her heart she knew he wouldn’t be dead. Bernie was a survivor like her.

Now there was Mikey to worry about; off on a troopship to foreign parts. Her son, whom she’d nurtured from a little boy. Would he ever see this view again?

“Are we all ready now?” shouted Jack to his wife and daughter, as overhead he could hear sounds of a trunk being dragged along the carpet.

“For pity’s sake, Maggie, leave it and gather your other bags together. We’re only going for ten days yer know, you’d think we were going for a month or more.”

He hurtled up the stairs to find Maggie and Hannah still putting things into their valises. Jack became increasingly irritated. They had been up since cock crow that morning and the packet ship from Wales sailed off at two.

“If we miss that boat, there isn’t another until tomorrow. Now hurry, Fergal is waiting outside with the carriage. I don’t want to be putting the horses into a lather ‘cos of you two. Hannah, pick up those bags fer yer mother and hurry.”

Jack put the trunk onto his shoulder, tutting irritably. Why did women need to pack everything just in case? His own clothes were arranged neatly in a small valise!

Maggie and Hannah smiled wryly at each other. Jack just didn’t understand that they must take things in case of emergency. They were travelling to a land that wouldn’t have a village every two miles or so, as the Wirral did. There were many miles in between Dublin and Killala, with vast stretches of countryside where they might never see another soul.

Both women wore day dresses in a light woollen material. It was the middle of April and the time of the year that could be warm one day and chilly the next. Maggie’s dress was long-sleeved, edged with a pretty lace ruffle at the wrist, worn with gloves in case it got cold. Her dress was a deep green satin and round her shoulders was a heavy wool magenta-coloured shawl. She had brushed her hair into a centre parting, tied it into a chignon at the back and on her head was a satin-trimmed saucer bonnet. Hannah had on a mauve merino dress, in a similar style to Maggie’s, with a matching shawl and trimmed spoon-shaped bonnet tied under the chin with mauve ribbons. Neither wore hoops or a great amount of underskirts, as they might be required to walk along difficult terrain. Hannah had let her hair fall into heavy glossy ringlets and she carried a cream tasseled parasol by her side. Jack, in contrast had only dressed comfortably, in a dark blue suit of houndstooth check, with a small matching deer stalker hat.

Fergal clicked up the horses and the carriage bowled along merrily, following the route into Wales. Jack had asked Alice if she would like to accompany them on this short holiday, partly as a trip of nostalgia and also as a break which might do them all good. But Alice had declined the offer. She was much too busy planning her wedding and running the boarding house to be fussed with all that sentiment. She had left her homeland twenty-odd years ago and had no wish to return!

Fergal followed the Chester Road which soon brought them to the cross roads at Two Mills. There he bore right and drove down the road to Queensferry, the gateway into Wales. They were making good time. Jack, looking at his fob watch, felt pleased. This holiday they were taking would do them all the world of good. Well, he hoped it would. There had been a foiled attempt by the Fenians recently to cause mayhem at the Chester Barracks and there was talk of uprisings around Dublin. But as Fergal said, the targets were the British, not people like Jack who was returning to Ireland with his family. Fergal advised him not to sail from Holyhead though, but he wouldn’t be drawn as to why!

To say Maggie was looking forward to the trip was debatable. She was looking forward to being with Jack and Hannah, but there were so many things that she could have been doing if she had stayed at home to which her mind kept harking back.

Sheldon Property Company had recently bought Briggs’ farmland that he had put up for sale. The intention was to build affordable property for the locals, backed up by loans that could be repaid over twenty five years. Maggie had wanted a mix of houses: terraces, semi-detached and detached villas, and she had employed an architect to design just that. But already there had been snags with the parish council, who were drawing up a list of rules that the development must abide by; foundation depth, sewage pipes, water mains, to name just a few. Then there was the builder to be chosen, tenders for the job were coming in and, to Maggie’s exasperation, they would be picked by Mr. Arlington. He had argued that dealing with men in the building trade was not a job for a woman and on this, Jack had heartily agreed. Still, she would be back in time to deal with the architect. Mr. Hughes was a very agreeable young man.

Hannah sat looking out of the carriage window, watching the scenery go by. It would be good to visit new places; take her mind off her problems for a time. Three weeks had passed by since she had expected her monthly courses. Not that it meant anything really, because it had happened once before. It was just that this time there could be an actual reason. Hannah was conversant with the mystery of gestation, because Maggie had sat her down and explained it all a few years ago. To have a baby without a father though, would create a mighty scandal and Hannah knew she couldn’t marry Jeremy. His tour of duty would be for at least two years, so what was she going to do?

There were two options she kept thinking of. Throw herself on the mercy of her father, or find a woman who could get rid of the unwanted thing. The latter she hadn’t a clue how to go about, it was just something she had heard was a possibility. Still, she had ten days in which to make her mind up and it could be a false alarm anyway.

“Look Maggie, Hannah, over there, you can see the beginning of the Wirral. In a few minutes’ time you will be able to see our house in Neston. Come over by me, Maggie. You’ll have a better view.”

Sure enough, as the carriage continued along the road through the village of Flint, they could just make out the black outline of the colliery across the water. Though their house was obscured by the trees that surrounded their dwelling, they knew that Selwyn Lodge was over there, too. Maggie was delighted and moved to the other window, hoping to see the hills that she could see from her bedroom. But the road was lined with forest and thick vegetation, which for the moment made it impossible for Maggie to see.

“It’s another few miles yet to Llandudno,” advised Jack, who had taken the ship to Dublin from there once before. He usually travelled from Liverpool but wanted Maggie to experience the view of the Wirral from the other side of the River Dee. Besides, Llandudno was a spa town. If Maggie liked it, perhaps he could take her in the future for a short holiday there. They sat for a while in silence, enjoying the surroundings and looking out to sea.

The carriage eventually came to a steep incline and, though the occupants couldn’t see it, Llandudno lay below. It was a purpose-built resort town, fronted with grand Georgian style hotels looking over the Irish Sea. The beach was long and sandy, sheltered by the hill called the Great Orme and at its foot was a deep water harbour, where lay the “Irish Maid” packet ship.

Fergal drew up at the pier entrance and helped his passengers down, then handed the family’s trunk to a waiting porter. There was ten minutes left before embarking; no time to sightsee while they were there.

“Never mind,” said Jack, as Fergal turned the carriage round and saluted his employers before departing.“We can come here again for a holiday, don’t those hotels look grand over there? But we must hurry before they put the gangplank up. Time and tide wait for no man, or so they say.”

Jack had booked a cabin. Though Dublin was less than fourteen hours away, he didn’t want his women mixing with the
hoi polloi
. And he was glad he did, when Hannah began chucking back her breakfast. Strange that she should do that when she was usually such a healthy girl.

Dawn was beginning to light up the sky as the ship sailed into Kingston Harbour. They went on deck to look at the islands that were dotted around Dublin Bay. There was Dalkey Island, an island dedicated to St. Benedict, where the remains of a Celtic church and a Milasian fort could be seen. Another was Muglins Isle, where a lighthouse sat to warn seafarers of the jagged rocks around the bay. Then on to a train that would take them on the coastal route to the city. Jack had reserved a suite of rooms at the Sherbourne Hotel.

The sun was up by the time the family reached Amiens Station. It was only a short walk to their hotel, so a porter trundled a trolley behind them, bearing the family trunk and valises. They planned to stay for a day or two, see the sights, then hire a carriage with a driver, who would take them overland to Killala Bay.

Later, Maggie sat with Hannah on the plush sofas in the hotel’s foyer, waiting for Jack to return with their keys, noting the elegantly dressed ladies and the fine furnishings there. What a difference twenty years had made to her life, she thought; she wouldn’t have been allowed through the doors of the place all those years before. Dublin, in Maggie’s mind, was a refined and cultured city, with Trinity College, splendid buildings, streets with modern gas lighting and a river to promenade by. They would have a short rest, perhaps a little breakfast and then take in the sights before supper. Hannah in particular should be delighted with the place. She was always mourning the fact that she didn’t visit Chester anymore.

Maggie looked sideways at Hannah. She was looking very peaky and rather forlorn. It seemed that she’d had a falling out with the Adshead girls, because since the night she had stayed over at their mansion, Hannah hadn’t seen the two sisters at all. Jack had said it was something to do with Jeremy. That was all he would say and Maggie hadn’t dwelt upon it. She had enough to worry her on the business front, without looking for trouble at home. It was probably a silly quarrel between the young ladies and it would all blow over soon. Still, the girl was very pale and had lost her usual colour. A walk by the river would probably do her good.

“Mother,” Hannah broke into her thoughts. “Could I lie down when we get to our rooms? I still feel rather sick this morning, but perhaps an hour on the bed will do me good.”

“I was just thinking that meself, Hannah. You’re looking very peaky. Perhaps we should be lookin’ fer a chemist. Maybe some powders ter settle yer tum.”

“I’m sure I’ll feel better when I’ve had a rest. I’m looking forward to seeing around the city, aren’t you? Did you never come here when you were younger, Mother? Papa was saying he had visited sometime, but only when he was passing through.”

“No, I never had the pleasure, Hannah. I’ve told yer something of me background and when we get to Killala you’ll find out why. Ah, here’s yer father and I’m glad he’s brought a porter with him. It looks as if it could be a struggle ter get the trunk up them stairs!”