Rose of Tralee (54 page)

At these wise words, however, Colm looked mulish. ‘Haven’t I seen meself almost lose ye?’ he enquired. ‘Life’s too short to waste, alanna. We’ll go home to Ireland this summer so’s you can meet me mammy an’ Caitlin, an’ we’ll marry in September. Is that too soon for you?’

‘No.’ Rose sighed. ‘I think you’re right; we’ve wasted enough time.’

‘Well, since you seem to have made your mind up, I think it’s time I went home an’ told Mr O’Neill what’s brewing,’ Rose’s mother said, getting to her feet. ‘I’ll come an’ see you again tomorrow, queen, unless they’ve sent you home by then, of course. The
doctor seemed to think you’d mend fast, now you’ve come to yourself.’ She slipped out between the curtains and Rose closed her eyes for a moment – or so she thought.

When she opened them again, however, the curtains had been pulled back from around her bed and the ward was in darkness save for one light over the door at the end. She sat up on one elbow, her heart bumping, and immediately a nurse in a starched white apron came rustling up the ward. She came over to Rose, smiling. ‘Your young man left not five minutes ago,’ she whispered. ‘You were sleeping so soundly that I told him he’d just be a nuisance if he stayed. Now, could you fancy a nice cup of tea? I’ve just made a pot in the ward kitchen.’

‘Oh, I’d love a cuppa,’ Rose said longingly. ‘I’m hungry, too, Sister.’

‘I’ll fetch in some biscuits,’ the nurse said, smiling. ‘You’ll sleep all the better if you’ve taken food and drink. Why, very likely you’ll be home in a couple of days, because you’ll heal faster there, I dare say.’

‘I’m sure I’ll get better quicker at home,’ Rose said contentedly, when the tea arrived and was being deliciously sipped. ‘My feller – the one who was here just now – is a lodger wi’ me mam, so of course I’ll get better quicker when I’m wi’ Colm. We’re getting married as soon as I’m well enough, but we nearly split up for good an’ all ...’ and she began to tell the nurse all about the gold necklace and her terrifying ride which had nearly ended so tragically.

‘It’s like a story out of a book,’ the nurse said, sipping her own tea and keeping her voice low so as not to wake the other patients. ‘You’re a very lucky girl all round, Rose Ryder.’

‘I know it,’ Rose said. ‘Oh, don’t I know it! I’ve been
give a second chance, Nurse, an’ I’m grabbing it wi’ both hands.’

And presently, when the tea was finished and the biscuits crunched down, Rose snuggled under the covers, careful to keep her injured arm away from her body, and was soon fast asleep – and dreaming, in the happiest way, of Colm O’Neill.

18 July 1934

It was a brilliant day, with the sun beaming down out of the blue sky and every bird for miles around, by the sound, singing its little head off. Caitlin walked along with a prance in her step despite her great age – she was going on fourteen – glancing around her constantly, because the streets were far emptier than she had previously seen them and it meant she could have a good look at everything. It was very early in the morning, but an early rising had been essential, for they had a special place reserved for them at the grand opening of the Mersey tunnel which her father and her brother had helped to build, and they had been advised to arrive in good time to avoid the crowds. It stood to reason that there would be crowds, because the King and Queen would be there, so everyone, naturally, would want to get a good place, so’s they could boast, afterwards, how they’d seen the Royals.

But Caitlin would have an especially good place, because she was going to give the Queen the beautiful bouquet of sweetly scented flowers which she held in the crook of her arm. Her father had promised to put her well to the fore in the enclosure which held tunnel workers and their wives and families, and had bought her the white and gold lilies and dark red roses which she now held so carefully.
Colm had laughed when he saw the flowers, because his wife was Rose and his mammy-in-law Lily, but Caitlin had been far too excited to laugh. She had felt a little flutter in her stomach at the thought of her great moment, but now the moment was so near she wasn’t nervous, not really – why should she be? She had on her best dress, pale blue with a white Peter Pan collar and turn-back cuffs, and her new, light-weight coat over it, which was a darker blue. ‘It matches your eyes, queen,’ the lady in Lewis’s had said when she had tried it on yesterday. ‘You look a real treat.’ What was more, dear Rose had washed and set her curls so that they clustered round her face, shining like satin, and she had actually dabbed a little powder on Caitlin’s nose, because: ‘We’re sisters, and sisters should share,’ Rose had said, spraying some of her very own perfume behind Caitlin’s ears and giving her the daintiest little lace hanky to tuck into her coat pocket.

Caitlin had met Rose before, of course, because she and Mammy had come over, almost two years previously, for the wedding, and Caitlin had given the happy couple a present which she had saved up for and bought her own self. She had liked Rose very much then, and liked her even more now, because Rose had told her a secret last night, the most important secret anyone had ever entrusted her with. ‘We’re having a baby, me and your brother, in early December,’ she had whispered. ‘Won’t that be grand, now, Cait? You’ll be an auntie.’ But we’re not tellin’ the rest of the family until the tunnel’s been opened, so you’re the first to know.’

Thinking about the secret made Caitlin glance behind her to where Rose and Colm walked, hand in hand, and as she turned her eyes front again, her
father, intercepting the look, winked at her. ‘Nervous, alanna?’ he asked, across her mammy. ‘You needn’t be – you’re the prettiest girl I ever did see an’ the whole city will be after envyin’ you when you give the flowers to the Queen.’

‘I’m a bit fluttery, just,’ Caitlin admitted. ‘But whyfor should I be nervous, Daddy? I’m too excited to be nervous.’

‘I’m nervous,’ her father protested. ‘I keep t’inkin’ suppose the lighting in me tunnel fails on us when the royal party drive through? Or suppose the mayor’s late arrivin’ an’ can’t get through the crowds?’

‘Nothing’s goin’ to go wrong,’ Eileen said firmly. ‘And we’re goin’ to be so proud of you, alanna!’ She squeezed her daughter’s hand. ‘A friend of your daddy’s is goin’ to tek a picture of you wit’ his camera – imagine that! You’ll be famous, so you will.’

Cracky, on her other side, gave a muffled short and Caitlin immediately jabbed him hard in the ribs with an indignant elbow. He was only here because she’d begged and pleaded, he’d better remember that! When Daddy had written that he had been told he might bring his family to the opening he had also said he would pay for one of Caitlin’s pals to come over ... and she had not hesitated. She had chosen Cracky and he’d been like an old alley moggy who’d stolen the cream with a grin from ear to ear. He had told her excitedly that he’d never crossed the sea, never thought to go to a foreign land, even if it were only England. What was more, he was clad from top to toe in borrowed raiment, mostly lent by friends of the mammy, he had better not forget that, either, or the grand meals he’d eaten and the grand sights he’d seen.

But she was secretly rather proud of Cracky, who had somehow managed to behave himself so far for three whole days without once putting his foot in it. He had slept on a put-u-up in the front room of the Ryders’ house, had scrubbed himself daily from top to toe and was taking great care of his borrowed plumage, besides eating everything offered to him at a seemly pace, with no cramming of the gob or talking with a mouthful – yes, Caitlin mused, she had been proud of him. She cast him a darkling glance, however, to remind him that despite being a little lady, she could still give him something to remember her by if he misbehaved.

But clearly, Cracky was mindful of his promise. He gave her the sweetest of gently forgiving smiles – Caitlin nearly malavoked him there and then, just to show him – and straightened his dark-blue tie. ‘Sorry Cait,’ he murmured. ‘Sure an’ the daddy’s right; you look more like a queen than the Queen, so you do.’

Caitlin giggled; she couldn’t help it. That was what she liked about Cracky, she decided; he could always make her laugh. And he looked downright handsome today, too, with his hair cut neatly – again, by Rose – and his white shirt collar so stiff it could have cut his own throat had he but bent his head too fast.

‘Not far now,’ her father said and Caitlin saw Eileen grip onto his arm with whitened fingers. Mammy’s nervous, she thought wonderingly, and she isn’t going to hand over flowers to the Queen, she hasn’t been practising a little bob curtsy, or digging under her nails with an orange stick. The bouquet, which was fresh and beautiful because Mrs Ryder had sprayed it with water just before they set out. Rose and Colm were chatting quietly and behind them Mrs Ryder and Mr Dawlish were walking very
sedately, with Mrs Ryder’s hand tucked into the crook of Mr Dawlish’s elbow.

Rose’s Mam and Mr Dawlish were getting married in September, Caitlin had been told when they first landed in Liverpool, and when that happened the house would be less crowded, because Mrs Ryder wouldn’t need the lodging money so badly any more. Mr Dawlish was first officer on a transatlantic liner, and bringing home good money. And Colm had already got another job, since his work on the tunnel had ceased a few weeks previously. He had taken driving lessons, passed his test at the first attempt and now he drove a lorry from the docks to various destinations all over the north-west, carrying the goods which came from far-away countries. He enjoyed the work, which paid quite well, and best of all it meant he could sleep in his own bed each night.

But the best thing of all, to Caitlin’s mind, was that her daddy would not be staying in Liverpool but would be coming home with her and Cracky and the mammy when they returned to Ireland the following day. He had worked hard for six years on the tunnel and had gradually climbed the ladder of success – that was how her mammy had put it when describing her husband’s rise to her friends – until he was taking a great deal of responsibility and was very well thought-of by the senior staff.

He had saved and Mammy had saved, and then a cottage had come up for rent in Finglas and they had talked it over and taken Caitlin – and Cracky – to have a look at it. It wasn’t the one they had set their hearts on, things like that only happen in fairy stories, Caitlin supposed, but it was almost as nice – and it had more land.

‘We’ll take it, an’ I’ll grow ‘taters an’ cabbages an’
leeks an’ swedes,’ her father had said. ‘There’s a bit of an orchard already an’ we’ll put in currant bushes, gooseberries, raspberries . . . I’ll look after ’em when I’ve finished me work for the day, an’ I’ll get me a corrach so’s I can go fishin’ on the Tolka . . . sure an’ we’ll be happy as the day is long, Eileen me darlin’.’

Her father had known, Caitlin realised, that he would not get the sort of pay in Ireland that he had earned in England. Ireland was a poor country and did not pay its workers adequately for their toil. But he had applied for work with the Corporation, possibly as a road-mender, hoping he would be given a stretch of road near Finglas, and thought that with their savings, their garden produce and his earnings, such as they were, they would not starve.

‘And I’ll keep on earnin’, so I will,’ his wife had assured him. ‘And Caitlin will be out of school in the summer and she’ll no doubt earn too. Why, livin’ in Finglas she could get a job in service in Dublin an’ still get home o’ nights, for I’ll not have her sleepin’ away from home. Oh, we’ll be happy as pigs in muck, me dearest Sean.’

‘Pigs! Aye, we’ll have a couple o’ fatteners, an’ a sow or two down in the bit of orchard,’ Sean had said happily. ‘To say nothin’ o’ keepin’ hens, an’ maybe some geese.’

Caitlin was sure she would enjoy living in Finglas, but for the moment her thoughts were all on the King and Queen, the tunnel opening and, naturally, the moment when she would reverently place her flowers in the Queen’s arms. The Queen was rather old, but very grand, and so many people would be looking on! Not that they mattered; it was her own family who were important, this extended family of hers which now included Rose, Mrs Lily Ryder, Mr
Dawlish – and of course Cracky.

‘Not long now, alanna,’ her father said, giving her an encouraging smile. ‘There’s plenty people about despite it being so early, but mebbe a good few of ’em’s goin’ to watch the King an’ Queen openin’ the East Lanes Road. Surely they aren’t all here for the tunnel?’

‘Don’t worry, Daddy, we’re still plenty early enough,’ Colm called. ‘But we’ll be after havin’ a long wait before anything happens, so let’s find a good place and then we’ll eat out carry-out.’

‘Picnic. It’s a picnic, so it is,’ Caitlin corrected him. ‘I’ve seen it! Sandwiches wit’ cold ham an’ lettuce, hard-boiled eggs, cold fried sausages in soft white rolls, little pink rosy apples ...’

‘Oh janey, you’re makin’ me hungry all over again,’ Cracky groaned. ‘Is it far, Mr O’Neill?’

‘We’re almost at Kingsway,’ Sean told him. ‘See over there? That’s the tunnel entrance. Impressive, eh?’

‘Great,’ Cracky said almost absently. ‘Where’ll we have our carry-out?’

‘Boys!’ Caitlin said, disgusted. ‘All they ever t’ink of is their bellies.’

‘Down there,’ Sean said, pointing. ‘We’ll get as close as we can to the barriers.’ He turned round and grinned at his son and daughter-in-law, who were carrying, not without difficulty, two large covered baskets. ‘Go careful wit’ the grub, the pair of ye.’ Young Cracky’s hungry already.’

‘I wouldn’t say no to a bite,’ Colm admitted, putting an arm round Rose. ‘Follow me, Daddy, alanna, an’ we won’t go far wrong.’

In an untidy group they hurried towards the place that Sean was pointing out to them.

*

It had been the grandest day in the world, Caitlin thought ecstatically as she climbed into bed that night. She was sharing Mrs Ryder’s big double on the first floor this last night, so that Rose and Colm could be together, but the adults were still downstairs, talking over what had happened that day. Caitlin, however, had been glad enough to go to bed; almost fourteen she might be, but she was tired out and wanted to be alone to relive every lovely moment of this most momentous of days.