The House by Princes Park (47 page)

That night, after Neila had gone, she sat with Felix in the garden, nursing a sleepy Brendan in her arms. It was very peaceful, very still. The flowers shimmered in the golden light of the evening sun which was slowly setting into a mishmash of red, green and purple stripes, casting a dark, moving shadow across the grass, slowly stripping the blooms of their vivid colour. The air was heavily scented – Gran had flowers in the garden at home, Ellie remembered, that smelt wonderful at night. It was the first time in her life she had appreciated the beauty of nature and she thought it strange this should happen when she was on the point of leaving Fern Hall.

‘You should get central heating,’ she said.

‘Eh!’ Felix looked understandably taken aback by this strange remark.

‘Central heating. It would make the house much warmer in the winter, get rid of the damp.’ Now she thought about it, it was quite a pleasant house, gracious.

Felix’s face softened into a gentle smile. ‘I couldn’t afford it, Ellie. It takes me all my time to pay the bills I have now.’

Ellie felt guilty, something else that was a first. He’d paid for Brendan’s pram, his cot, mountains of baby clothes and nappies, and all the other things that were needed for a baby. It hadn’t crossed her mind to say, ‘thank you’, yet it wasn’t Felix’s job to provide for his brother’s child – a child he adored, always remarking how like Liam he was.

‘Can’t you turn the chemist’s into something else?’ she suggested. ‘A tea room, for instance.’ Lots of cars passed through Craigmoss on their way to and from Dublin or Dun Laoghaire, from where the ferry sailed to England – from where she and Brendan would sail tomorrow.

‘People need a chemist for their prescriptions. It would be irresponsible to close it down.’

She wanted to shake some sense into him. It was time
he put himself first, not conduct his life for the convenience of all and sundry. ‘Fern Hall could provide bed and breakfasts,’ she said. ‘It’s conveniently situated on the main road.’

‘I’m not very good when it comes to business,’ Felix said simply. ‘It takes me all my time to run the chemist’s.’

He needed a wife behind him, a pushy, determined wife, not the oaf-like Neila Kenny, who’d been his father’s mistress and was someone else he felt responsible for. She was about to suggest other things he could sell from the chemist’s, flowers for instance from the garden that could be put in buckets outside, but knew it was a waste of time. Life had beaten Felix and he’d lost the will to fight.

‘I’ll miss you and Brendan when the time comes for you to go,’ he said in his husky whisper.

‘I’ll come and see you sometime.’ Ellie genuinely meant it. ‘At least, I’ll try.’

‘You’ll always be welcome.’

It was a good job she didn’t tell people at home that Liam was dead – she’d said they were ‘incompatible’ – because she’d only been in Liverpool two days when he rang to say Felix had tracked him down in Geneva, worried where Ellie was.

‘He said you went to Dublin for the day and didn’t come back,’ Liam said accusingly. ‘Did you
have
to walk out without a word? I told him it was just like you and I wasn’t a bit surprised. He only wants to know if you’re safe.’

‘I’m quite safe, thanks, and I only left without saying anything because I was worried Neila Kenny would make a big fuss.’

‘And why should Neila Kenny make any sort of fuss?’

‘She was after Brendan, that’s why, because she can’t have children of her own. I think you should rescue your
brother from Neila Kenny, Liam. Did you know she was your father’s mistress for nearly ten years?’

‘Y’what?’ Liam gasped.

‘You heard. He inherited her along with Fern Hall and the chemist’s. Another thing, Felix bought all Brendan’s stuff, so you owe him loads of money.
I
can’t pay him back.’

There was silence for a moment while Liam digested these startling facts. ‘What’s he like, Brendan?’ he eventually asked.

‘Gorgeous. Everyone here loves him to death.’

‘I might come and see him some time?’

‘If you do, you’re likely to get some dirty looks from me family.’ Ellie gave the receiver a dirty look before slamming it down.

She couldn’t have arrived home at a better time, amid preparations for her mother’s wedding, with people too busy to question what she’d been up to, lecture her for turning up with Liam Conway’s baby and brazenly announcing she wasn’t married. Mum was pleased she’d got back in time to be a bridesmaid and was more concerned with getting her a frock the same as Moira and Daisy’s than anything. And it was true what she’d said to Liam; everyone loved Brendan to death, particularly Gran. An old cot had been unearthed from the cellar, a new mattress hurriedly bought, and mother and son were installed in an upstairs room, empty now that the students had gone for the summer. Unlike with Neila, Ellie didn’t mind a bit when Gran took Brendan off her hands every morning, allowing her to have a long sleep in.

Ruby felt as if Brendan had been sent by heaven to take her mind off the fact that the man she loved was about to marry another woman. If the other woman hadn’t been her daughter, she might have put up a fight, told him that
she loved him, forced him to admit he loved her back, insisted he was making a mistake.

She had no idea what had prompted Matthew to ask Greta to be his wife, but he had, and there was no going back, mistake or no mistake. She’d made a mess of things with Jacob, then with Chris Ryan, and the worst mess of all with Matthew Doyle. ‘You’re a soft girl, Ruby O’Hagan,’ Beth used to tell her, and Beth was right.

Greta and Matthew made a perfect couple. They had known each other for the best part of their lives. Greta had liked him from the start, in the days when Ruby had called him every name under the sun. Even Heather approved of the match, though Ruby knew it would break her heart to lose her sister now that the relationship with Gerald Johnson had fizzled out.

The sole topic of conversation became the wedding, which couldn’t take place in church because Matthew was divorced. Greta didn’t mind and although there was a time when Ruby would have minded very much, things had changed. Nowadays, all sorts of people got divorced and couldn’t be expected to remain alone for the rest of their lives, particularly if they were the innocent party, like Matthew.

Now that he was on his feet again, Matthew was paying for everything. A hotel had been booked for the reception – a new one in Paradise Street, very expensive. The menu was discussed endlessly, how many guests should be invited. Flowers were ordered, cars booked. Daisy knew of a pop group if they wanted music. Heather was to be Matron of Honour, Daisy and Moira bridesmaids. Moira was ordered home from Norwich for the weekend so she could be bought a dress – pale blue voile with a pleated bodice and a gathered skirt. Appointments were made at the hairdresser’s – there would be plenty of time for shampoos and sets because Greta wanted an afternoon wedding.

Ruby was dragged into town to help choose the bride’s outfit. Greta still had a weakness for frills and flounces and ended up with a cream lace, knee-length frock that made her look like a Barbie doll, and a mixture of feathers and flowers pretending to be a hat. Ruby bought her own outfit at the same time; a simple mid-blue sheath with a short boxy jacket. Looking in the mirror, she thought Matthew was right to have chosen the daughter not the mother, because the mother looked a sight; old, grey, with drooping eyes and a neck like a piece of old rope. She threw back her shoulders. She was even getting a hump.

Matthew was buying a lovely house in Calderstones. The solicitors were doing their utmost to exchange final contracts before the newly wed couple returned from their honeymoon in the South of France. So far, everything was going smoothly, but for Ruby nothing was going smoothly at all.

Beth couldn’t come to the wedding. ‘I’m speaking at a conference,’ she wrote. ‘I’d feel awful, cancelling, though if it were
you
getting married, Rube, I’d be there if it meant snubbing President Carter himself.’

She hadn’t seen Connie and Charles for ages and hoped an invitation to a wedding might tempt them back to Liverpool, if only for the day, but Connie rang to say Charles was too ill to travel. ‘It’s his heart, Ruby. He’s not allowed to drive any more and he’s not up to the train journey. Give Greta our love and tell her we’re sending a present.’

If that wasn’t bad enough, a few days later she saw in the
Echo
that Jim Quinlan had died. Over the years, she’d felt glad that he hadn’t been attracted to her as she had been to him. There’d been a time when she would have married him like a shot – perhaps because he was so different to Jacob. Or maybe, without realising it, she’d just been casting round for someone to love and Jim had fitted the bill.

Why do people have to grow old, die? she wondered, and for the first time in her life, Ruby was overwhelmed by an all-consuming sadness, feeling as if her own life was hanging by a thread, and asking herself the inevitable question, ‘What is it all for?’

Then Ellie returned from Dublin with Brendan, her first great-grandchild and, although Ruby never received an answer to her question, the sadness lifted, and she took the baby boy to her heart.

It was a daft idea, thought Heather, to have a Matron of Honour and three bridesmaids when you were only getting married in a registry office. For once, she’d kept her opinions to herself. After all, it was Greta’s wedding, not hers. As for that dress, it was far too short, and you’d think Mam would have talked her into something at least ballerina length.

And there was something strange, not quite right, about being joined together in Holy Matrimony in an ordinary room by a man in a suit – there were actually women registrars, which would be even stranger.

‘Do you take this woman...?’

‘Do you take this man...?’

‘I do,’ Greta murmured in the girlish voice that had hardly changed since she was a child. Heather felt her eyes prickle with tears, not because she was losing her sister, but she knew that, unlike Greta, she would never say those words again. She couldn’t have brought herself to say them to Gerald, nor to any other man on earth. She had said, ‘I do’ just once, to Rob, and she’d meant it for ever. Heather knew that she would remain Rob White’s widow for the rest of her days.

There was a dreadful smell coming from Brendan. The little monkey had dirtied in his nappy, and in the middle of a wedding too. He was perched in the crook of Ruby’s
arm making cooing noises. She worried that she hadn’t brought enough spare nappies, only three, and it would be hours before they could go home.

Considering it was a wedding, the atmosphere was rather flat. She missed the grandeur and dignity of a church, and wondered if second marriages always lacked the excitement of the first. The groom hadn’t smiled once and Heather looked as if the world was about to end. At least Greta seemed pleased she was about to become Mrs Matthew Doyle.

Ruby glanced across at the Donovans and the Whites. Their faces were sober, no doubt remembering the day they’d attended a different wedding which they had thought would be a beginning, but had turned out to be the end.

Thank the Lord she’d come home when she did, Ellie thought as she danced with a dead gorgeous chap called Gary who was a sculptor, or something arty. She was having a great time. The reception had been a bit boring, especially the speeches, but Grannie and Grandad Donovan had been so pleased to see her and had made a desperate fuss of Brendan. Ellie had felt very proud, as if she’d performed a miracle.

‘He’s our Larry’s
grandson
,’ Grannie Donovan said tearfully. ‘Is he like him or not?’

‘The spitting image,’ Grandad Donovan confirmed, making four different people Brendan had been declared the spitting image of that day.

At seven o’clock, the pop group arrived along with loads more people and the reception turned into a party. The Gigolos made up for in noise what they lacked in talent, but were easy to dance to – how come Daisy knew a pop group?

Not long afterwards, the bride and groom left for their honeymoon and the dancing stopped for the guests to
cheer them on their way. Moira came over and whispered to her twin, ‘I’ll never get used to Mum being married. It seems really weird. Just look, Matthew’s got his
arm
around her.’

‘I suppose it is a bit weird,’ Ellie agreed. She hadn’t been home long enough to give the matter much thought, though the news had initially come as a shock. ‘It means Matthew’s our step-father.’

‘Mum wants us to go and live with her in Calderstones. I don’t know about you, but I said “no”. I’d sooner stay in our old house with Gran. I think Mum’s a bit annoyed.’

‘She hasn’t asked me yet, but I feel the same as you.’ Ellie couldn’t imagine her mother looking after Brendan while she had a long lie in, unlike Gran.

The music started again. Unable to resist, the twins grinned at each other and began to dance on the spot, twisting and turning in rhythm with the loud, throbbing beat. In no time, two young men appeared; Gary the sculptor, and a pony-tailed individual wearing shredded jeans who paired off with Moira.

Ellie prepared to dance the night away, entirely forgetting she was a mother with a hungry baby to feed. She was annoyed, even if it was hours later, when Gran tugged at her sleeve and announced Brendan was screaming fit to bust. ‘Why can’t he have a bottle?’ she asked irritably.

‘He’s drunk both his bottles, love.’

‘Does that mean I’ll have to go
home
?’ Ellie was outraged.

‘I can’t feed him, can I? Anyway, his nappy’s soaking. That’s the fifth today. I sent out for some of them disposable ones, but I don’t like changing it again. The poor little chap needs a bath by now, else he’ll get a rash. I’ll ring for a taxi.’

‘Where is Brendan?’

‘With your other gran. He’s wet her lovely new costume.’ Ruby hurried away.

‘Have you got a
baby
?’ Gary looked at Ellie askance.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh! Excuse us a mo, there’s a mate over there I want to talk to.’

Gary vanished into the crowd, without mentioning the party he’d invited her to on Saturday night, and Ellie knew it would always be like this. Her time was no longer her own now that she was responsible for another person’s life. She couldn’t go out whenever she felt like it, do whatever she pleased, and men would keep their distance if they knew about Brendan, worried they’d be landed with another man’s child.