The House by Princes Park (39 page)

She sighed enviously. She would give everything she owned – not that she owned much – to be one of the people on the sands, able to run into the water, collect shells.

It was hard to concentrate when paradise was only fifty or so yards away. And now a ship had appeared, a tanker. Daisy rested her head in her hands and wondered where it was going. Somewhere exotic, a foreign port, with foreign smells, where people wore strange clothes and rode on camels.

Daisy’s longing to be anywhere else in the world rather than the place where she was now, was so strong, it felt like a sickly ball in her throat.

‘Haven’t you started on that filing yet?’

‘I was just looking through it,’ Daisy lied as she shuffled the pile of papers on her desk. She had been taken on to assist Uncle Matt’s secretary whom he claimed was overworked. Theresa Frayn had treated her nicely at first, but had long ago become impatient with her slowness. She had never known anyone take so long to do filing or type a simple letter. If it hadn’t been for Uncle Matt, Daisy suspected she’d have been shown the door months ago.

She began the painful task of sorting through the filing, putting the sheets in alphabetical order, conscious of Theresa glowering at her from across the room. The incoming letters weren’t so bad. They had bold letterheads and were easy to understand, but the carbon copy replies were difficult. As she tried to make sense of the words, Daisy had a familiar feeling of disorientation, as if the world had turned upside down.

‘Morning, girls.’ Uncle Matt came into the office. He was wearing jeans and an anorak which meant he would be visiting a site during the day.

‘Good morning, Matthew,’ Theresa said girlishly, fluttering her lashes.

‘Good morning, Mr Doyle.’ Gran had stressed she mustn’t call him ‘Uncle Matt’ in the office.

‘Tea!’ He pretended to gag. ‘I desperately need a cuppa.’

Theresa got to her feet, anxious to please her handsome boss, but Uncle Matt said, ‘Let Daisy do it.’ He grinned. ‘She makes a lovely cup of tea does our Daise.’ It was one of the few things Daisy could do efficiently.

The day wore on. Uncle Matt went out, more people appeared on the sands, more ships glided across the glistening water, in and out of the port of Liverpool. Daisy copy-typed a specification and made such a hash of it that Theresa Frayn ripped it to pieces in front of her eyes. ‘I’ll do it again meself,’ she snapped.

While Daisy was struggling with the typewriter, Ellie and Moira were walking home from school arm in arm, a boy on each side and two trailing behind. The Donovan twins were the prettiest girls in the sixth form and the fact they were so alike gave an added flavour to their already plentiful charms. They were usually accompanied by a court of admirers.

‘What’cha doing tonight?’

‘Fancy going to a disco?’

‘How about the pics? I’ll buy you some chocolates.’

The boys didn’t mind which twin responded, each being as appealing as the other.

Ellie giggled and Moira stuck her nose in the air. She wouldn’t be seen dead with a boy her own age, preferring older, more sophisticated men. Apart from Uncle Matt who was fifty-one and
too
old, she hadn’t so far met one that she liked, but she would, one day. It didn’t matter
when, she wasn’t in any hurry. It was Moira’s intention to gain three top grade A levels, go to university, and become a teacher. Once this ambition had been realised and she had worked for a few years, she might think about getting married and starting a family.

‘Come on, Ellie,’ a boy called slyly, ‘have a heart. John Perry said you’re an easy lay.’

Moira glanced at Ellie. ‘Aren’t you offended?’ she asked, but her sister just shrugged. If a boy had said that to her, she’d have slapped his face. They walked in silence for a while until Moira said, ‘Unless it’s true.’

Still Ellie didn’t answer, but smiled instead, as if she wasn’t a bit perturbed by the suggestion.

‘I know some nights you go upstairs to Liam Conway’s room.’ Moira was an exceptionally light sleeper. Ellie or Daisy only had to turn over for her to wake up. It was months now since she’d first heard her sister creep upstairs. Shortly afterwards, the bed in Liam’s room which was directly overhead would creak. About an hour later, Ellie would return. Moira hadn’t said anything, being a firm believer in letting the world go by with the minimum of interference. People, her sister included, were masters of their own destiny, and if Ellie wanted to sleep with Liam Conway, then it was up to her. She was, however, a little disturbed at the idea that Ellie was sleeping around.

‘Are you going to clat on me?’ Ellie said casually.

‘You know I won’t.’ Moira had never told tales in her life.

‘Not that I care, like. I just wondered. Another thing, don’t tell anyone this either, but when Liam goes back to Dublin in June, I’m going with him.’

‘They mightn’t let you.’

‘They can’t stop me. Anyroad, so as to avoid a fuss, I might just run away.’

‘That would be very inconsiderate, Ellie.’ Despite not wanting to interfere, Moira was extremely shocked. She
also believed people should have standards. ‘Mum would be terribly upset and it would break Gran’s heart.’

Ellie looked momentarily abashed. ‘Oh, I’ll come back, don’t worry,’ she assured her sister. ‘Dublin will just be the first of my adventures. I shall have loads more.’

‘Aren’t you worried you’ll get pregnant?’

‘I can’t. I’m on the pill.’

Moira could never quite understand her twin. Sometimes, she wondered if Ellie’s heart beat twice as fast as other people’s, if her blood raced around her body when everyone else’s merely flowed. She was never still, always agitated, impatient, wanting to do things first, be the centre of attention, be the loudest, the brightest, the most daring of all. Ellie had to have everything.

Yet she wasn’t happy. Moira was the only person who recognised the turbulent nature of her sister hid a dissatisfaction that would never be soothed by normal means. Ellie craved excitement, it was the reason why, years ago, she’d stolen things from school. Fortunately, the culprit had never been discovered. It was why she’d started sleeping with men, why she wanted to run away.

‘Did you do it with John Perry?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Where?’

‘Behind the gym, after school.’

‘Say if you’d been seen! You’d have been made to leave and couldn’t have done your A levels.’

‘Who cares!’ Ellie laughed. ‘Anyroad, I wasn’t seen, was I?’

Sometimes, Ellie would watch through the bedroom window when Clint brought Daisy home. All he did was kiss her, and then only the once. He didn’t realise what he was missing. Half the girls in the sixth form were crazy about him and would have gone much further than just a kiss.

Yet Clint stuck to Daisy, despite Ellie having made it obvious that she fancied him. She’d like to bet he was a virgin, which was no wonder, having the ugly, clodhopping Daisy for a girlfriend.

Before she went to Dublin, Ellie resolved she’d do her utmost to seduce Clint Shaw, show him what it was like to be with a real woman! It would be a problem finding the opportunity, they were hardly ever alone together, but that only made the task more exciting.

Ellie rubbed her hands together. She could hardly wait!

Ruby regarded the painting with dismay. ‘It’s very nice, love,’ she said, trying to put some enthusiasm into her voice.

‘It’s the view from the office window,’ Daisy explained. ‘I had to do it from memory.’

‘You’re lucky, having such a lovely view.’

‘I suppose,’ Daisy sighed. ‘Though I find it very distracting.’

Daisy was very easily distracted when she had to work. It had been the same at school when she’d always been bottom of the class, except for Art, which was surprising considering the dreadful paintings she turned out. The latest was particularly crudely done, the paint laid on thickly like tar. Instead of being smooth, the sky was full of ridges and for some reason the river was white and grey lumps. There was a strange figure standing in the water which Ruby eventually recognised as a dog and the other, even stranger figure, on the sand – more lumps – was presumably its owner.

‘What’s this, love?’ she asked, pointing to what looked like litter on the beach.

‘Children. They’re collecting shells and stuff. And that’s their mother with a pram.’

‘As I said, it’s very nice.’

‘Where shall I hang it? It still needs hooks and some
string. Ellie doesn’t like my paintings in our bedroom. She said they’re ugly.’

‘I’ll put it in my room, shall I?’ Most of Daisy’s unframed work went in Ruby’s room. Even Heather refused to hang her daughter’s paintings in a place where they could be seen. Ruby had put some in the students’ rooms and none had so far complained. ‘Leave it where it is for now, love,’ she said.

‘OK, Gran,’ Daisy said happily. ‘I’ll go and tidy the shed.’ She painted in the garden shed where Mrs Hart’s garden tools were still stored, including a roller that couldn’t be budged.

Mrs Kilfoyle, who taught Art, had suggested Daisy go to college for the subject, but Heather had put her foot down and refused. ‘I wouldn’t take any notice of Mrs Kilfoyle. She’s as daft as a brush. Our Daisy lazed her way through school. It’s about time she buckled down to some proper work.’

Daisy had meekly agreed. ‘Anyroad,’ she confided to Ruby, ‘I don’t want to leave one school for another.’ It was obvious she’d had enough. Not long afterwards, she arrived home laden with boxes of paint and squares of hardboard and set up work in the shed, where it was either freezing cold or like an oven depending on the weather. Even Heather felt guilty for not having provided the materials before.

‘Oh, Mam! She mustn’t have liked asking us to buy them. She waited till she was earning money of her own. I thought that O level was just a fluke.’

The paintings that emerged from the shed only confirmed that Heather had been right. The O level had indeed been a fluke.

Ruby’s heart bled for her unhappy granddaughter. How would poor Daisy cope as she grew older? She fervently hoped she and Clint would get married. A genuinely nice boy, he was clearly fond of her – and she of him, though it
would mean his mother, the loathsome Pixie, would become a member of the family.

Everyone had eaten, the dishes had been washed and dried, the kitchen looked unusually clean – a sight that Ruby always found slightly disturbing it was so unnatural. Daisy was out with Clint, and the twins were in the bedroom doing their homework. An evening in front of the television with Heather and Greta stretched ahead seductively.

Ruby was about to switch on
Coronation Street
, when Heather said, ‘Mam, I thought I’d better tell you, me and Greta booked a holiday in Corfu today. We’re going for a fortnight in July.’

‘How kind of you – to tell me that is,’ she said icily. ‘Well, at least I’ll know where you are when you disappear for two whole weeks.’

Heather looked taken aback. ‘We didn’t think you’d mind.’

‘I’d like to have been consulted first. I assume you’re not taking your children with you, that they’re being left with me?’

‘We couldn’t afford for the five of us to go.’

‘Oh, dear! But thank goodness you can afford to pay for two. I hope you both have a lovely time.’

‘We’ll cancel it if you like,’ Greta offered, sensing her mother wasn’t exactly pleased at the news.

‘Though we’ll lose the deposit,’ Heather warned.

‘I wouldn’t dream of putting you to any inconvenience. Fortunately, your holiday doesn’t clash with mine.’ Ruby had never made up her mind so quickly about anything before.

‘You’re going away?’ the girls gasped, more or less together.

‘I’m going to stay with Beth in Washington for a week
in June. It’s International Women’s Year and there’s all sorts of things going on.’

‘But how will we cope without you?’ Greta wailed.

‘Same way as I’ll cope without you.’

‘Have you booked the flight?’ demanded Heather.

‘No. I intended discussing it with you first,’ Ruby lied shamelessly. She was fed up being taken for granted. ‘All you have to do is get up early and make everyone’s breakfast, then do the dinner when you come home. I’ll change the beds before I go,’ she said helpfully.

‘Why couldn’t you have gone later, like us, when the students will have gone?’

‘You obviously haven’t noticed, Heather, but we have foreign students in the summer. The upstairs rooms can’t stay empty for three and a half months. We need the money.’

‘Actually, Mam,’ Greta grumbled, ‘We could do with the whole house to ourselves. I wouldn’t mind a room to meself, and neither would Heather, and the girls are too old for three to a room.’

‘If you’d like to ask your boss for a two hundred per cent rise, then we can have the whole house to ourselves.’

‘You’re being dead sarcastic tonight, Mam. Why can’t we get a cheaper house?’

Ruby guffawed. ‘With a room each for the six of us! Which planet are you living on, Greta?’

‘We could ask Uncle Matt to reduce the rent.’

‘Don’t you dare even
think
such a thing!’ Ruby angrily thumped the arm of the settee and the girls jumped. ‘We’re fortunate to get it as cheap as we do. It’s a lovely house and you’re not exactly cramped sleeping two or three to a room. Nowadays, Matthew could sell this place for thousands and thousands of pounds. You should be thanking your lucky stars, not complaining. Now would someone mind switching on
Coronation Street
? I’ve already missed half.’