The House by Princes Park (50 page)

Clint was about to leave. He kissed Daisy chastely on the cheek. There wasn’t much passion between them. Perhaps they knew each other too well, like brother and sister. Neither had had a relationship with another member of the opposite sex. Ruby wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad.

Just as Clint left, Matthew appeared carrying a tiny, three-wheeler bike. He waved to her, and Brendan immediately abandoned the ball and made for the bike. Matthew sat him on the seat and Moira and Daisy showed him how to turn the pedals with his feet. Heather shouted she was going to make some tea, and Matthew came and flopped down beside Ruby on the grass.

‘I thought you were madly busy,’ she said.

‘I am. I pretended I was going somewhere vital and came here instead. It’s too nice to be stuck in an office. These days, I spend too much time indoors. It goes with the job.’ He removed his dark jacket and loosened his tie. His white shirt was beautifully ironed. At first, she’d been impressed, thinking it was Greta’s work, but it turned out they went to the laundry. She asked if Greta was coming.

‘She didn’t mention it this morning, just that she was going to lunch with that friend of hers, Shirley.’

‘What’s she like, this Shirley?’

‘Dunno, Rube.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve never met her.’

‘I thought she only lived next door?’

‘No, Woolton somewhere. Greta met her in the hairdresser’s.’

‘But... oh, never mind. I must have got it wrong.’ She
hadn’t though. Ruby distinctly remembered Greta saying that Shirley lived next door, but it wasn’t worth an argument. It was a relief to know that Greta was all right again, had been so for months, though it would have been nice to see more of her.

‘You look nice,’ Matthew remarked. ‘Is that a new frock?’

‘No, I bought it for Washington. There’s scarcely been an opportunity to wear it since.’ It was the turquoise Indian cotton with beads around the neck.

He lay back on the grass and rested his head in his hands. ‘Have the students gone?’

‘The last one left at the weekend. It feels odd, knowing I won’t be having more. Normally, I’d be expecting the foreign students to arrive any minute.’ Months ago, they’d held a family conference and had decided the students could be dispensed with at the end of term now that the house was rent-free. On Monday, Moira was starting a summer job as a waitress so she could contribute towards her keep, and Daisy had reminded them she was getting married in less than a year and her contribution could only be relied on until Christmas – she and Clint were going to live in London, the only place for a person with a film career in mind.

Brendan had hurt his foot on the pedals of his bike. He gave a little whimper and trotted over to Ruby who rubbed it until it was better. ‘Is that OK?’

‘Yeth, Bee.’ He returned to the bike, giving the ball a kick on the way as if to confirm the foot was in perfect condition.

Heather came out with a tray of tea and chocolate biscuits and handed them around.

‘I wish you could do that to me, Rube,’ Matthew said gloomily.

‘Do what?’

‘Make me better.’

She glanced at him sharply. ‘Are you ill?’

‘No, but I’m bloody fed up.’

‘What with?’ She hoped he wasn’t going to say, ‘Greta’.

‘Me job. It’s not my company any more. I’m just an employee like everyone else, responsible to those on high.’

‘You should be thanking your lucky stars, not complaining. Sit up and drink your tea.’

He eased himself to a sitting position. ‘Thanks for the sympathy. I knew you’d understand.’

‘What is there to understand?’ Ruby said cuttingly. ‘Most people would give anything to be in your position.’

‘Yes, but Rube, it’s not
exciting
any more. I know exactly what I’ll be doing from one day to the next.’ He turned towards her, brown eyes wistful. ‘You know what I’d like? To start again, by meself, like I did before, except this time I’d have more than a few bob in me pocket.’

‘Why not do it, Matthew? There’s nothing stopping you.’

‘Isn’t there?’ His laugh came out like a bark. ‘D’you think Greta would be pleased if the money suddenly dried up? Her favourite occupation is shopping. She’s got enough clothes to sink a ship.’

‘
I’d
help,’ Ruby offered. ‘I could type letters for you.’

‘You can’t type.’

‘I can learn.’

‘Oh, Rube, I don’t half wish...’ He paused and said no more. Ruby didn’t ask what the wish was because she already knew. She wished the same herself.

When Greta let herself in – she still had a key – the house appeared to be empty, but there were voices in the garden. Everyone had gone outside. Instead of joining them, she went into her old bedroom, sat on the bed, removed her sunglasses, and looked in the mirror at her red, swollen eyes. It was obvious she’d been crying and the tears had made little shiny rivulets on her powdered cheeks.
Heather’s compact was on the dressing table. Greta picked it up and the shiny marks were quickly obliterated, but there was nothing she could do about her eyes. She’d have to keep the sunglasses on.

An hour ago, she’d said goodbye to Charlie Mayhew for the last time. At that very moment, he was on his way to London. This time tomorrow he would be back in America. She would never see him again.

Charlie had been as upset as she was. They’d grown fond of each other over the last six months – well, more than fond. They were a little bit in love, but he had a wife and three young children and she had a husband and twin daughters but, Greta thought darkly, she may well have been childless for all she saw of them.

Making love for the final time had been bittersweet; both wonderful and terribly sad. She had sobbed in his arms that she didn’t want him to go and he had cried a little too.

But he’d gone. He had to, and that Greta understood. It meant she had no choice but to return to her empty life. What was she to do with herself from now on? She lay on the bed, her head sinking into the soft pillow, and hoped someone would come in, ask what was the matter, make a fuss of her. She would say she didn’t feel well to account for the red eyes.

No one came and there was laughter in the garden. She recognised Heather’s low-pitched chuckle. She must have stayed off work for Brendan’s party. Had Greta been living there, she would have stayed off too. They’d have had great fun getting everything ready. For the briefest of moments, Greta considered leaving Matthew and coming home. In no time at all, things would return to how they’d always been. The thought was tempting, except she’d have to go back to work and there’d only be the usual few pounds a week to spend. Greta felt torn between the idea of being a wealthy lady of leisure, albeit an unhappy one,
and resuming her old, hard-up life, with Mam fighting a continual battle to make ends meet.

The lady of leisure easily won and Greta felt slightly better. She’d made a choice and it showed she had some control over her life. And it helped, knowing she could always come home if she felt
too
unhappy. Mam would welcome her with open arms.

Greta sat up and combed her hair. Her eyes already looked better. She went into the kitchen, where the door was wide open, and the first person she saw was Matthew, lying on the grass beside her mother. When had he ever come home during the day for
her
? Never! And there was something familiar about the way the pair were chatting so easily, as if Mam was his wife, not her.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Heather and Moira had their heads together, giggling helplessly over something. Her sister and her daughter, obviously the best of friends.

Brendan must have been given a bike for his birthday and Daisy was following him around, arms stretched protectively over his head in case he fell off.

Everyone was having a fine time without her, they probably hadn’t noticed she wasn’t there. She no longer meant anything to her family.

She turned on her heel and left. No one had seen her come, no one had seen her go. She wouldn’t be missed.

At Daisy’s request, it was the simplest of weddings. Her frock was cream jersey, calf length, without a single adornment, worn under a sky-blue velvet fitted jacket. For the first time, she wore lipstick, and carried a posy of white Christmas roses tied with blue ribbon. The only bridesmaid, Moira, carried a similar posy tied with pink to match her own plain frock. Clint had bought his first formal suit, dark grey, and throughout the ceremony, his handsome face was sombre.

Matthew, the sole male member of the O’Hagan clan – not counting Brendan – gave the bride away. There were only twenty guests, including the young couple’s immediate families and a collection of friends.

The January day was icy cold. Heavy grey clouds lumbered slowly across the dull sky and several people remarked it looked as if it might snow. The guests were dressed appropriately for a winter wedding. Ruby had treated herself to a new coat, bright scarlet, and was relieved it wasn’t the sort of wedding that required a hat, though neither Greta or the loathsome Pixie Shaw seemed to think so. Pixie’s great fur contraption looked as if it was designed to be worn on the Russian Steppes, and Greta’s face could hardly be seen behind a jungle of green feathers.

She found it all very moving. Daisy and Clint looked so unworldly. They didn’t know much about anything and she wondered how they would cope in a big city on their own. One of their artist friends had arranged for them to
live in a cheap bedsit in a place called Hackney. As a sort of honeymoon, they were spending their first two nights in a hotel by Piccadilly Circus.

Snow had started to fall by the time the short service was over, and everyone returned to the house for the buffet meal that Pixie had insisted on helping to prepare, giving her the opportunity to remark that everything reminded her of her grandma’s house before the war.

The newly married couple only stayed a short while. After barely an hour, Daisy appeared in the living room, still in her wedding dress, with her best coat on top, and wearing a woolly hat and gloves to match. The lipstick had worn off and she hadn’t bothered to renew it. Clint stood awkwardly behind with a suitcase.

‘We’re off now, Gran. The taxi’s waiting.’

‘Already, love?’

‘The train takes four hours and we’ve got to find the hotel. The underground looks very complicated.’

‘Have you said goodbye to your mother?’

‘Yes, Gran. She’s in the bedroom.’

‘Have a lovely time now.’ Her heart ached unbearably as she kissed them both. They were scarcely more than children. ‘Don’t forget, Matthew’s arranged for all your things to be delivered on Monday. Make sure you’re in or you won’t have any bedding to sleep on.’ The bedding, wedding presents, Daisy’s painting gear, clothes, all the other things necessary for a place that contained nothing except furniture, had been packed in a crate to be collected early Monday morning by one of Medallion’s lorries.

‘Don’t worry, Gran. We’ll be there.’

‘’Bye, love. Bye, Clint. Look after her now.’

The guests crowded into the hall and watched the sturdy young woman and the slender young man go through the snow and climb into a taxi.

Ruby looked around for Heather, but she was nowhere to be seen. She found her in the bedroom, face down on
the bed, sobbing her heart out. ‘Oh, love!’ She sat on the edge of the bed and laid her head against Heather’s dark hair. ‘I know how you feel. I feel the same myself.’

‘She looked so
young
, Mam,’ Heather wept. ‘And she’s not a bit hard, like some people. You can tell from her eyes. She’s always been so good. Daisy’s never given me a moment of trouble. Oh, I know she was useless at school, but at least she tried.’

‘She’ll be all right, love. She’s probably tougher than we think.’

‘You know, Mam, I could kill Ellie. She knew when the wedding would be. Daisy asked her to be bridesmaid and was dead upset when she didn’t even send a card.’

‘She didn’t send a card for Christmas either.’

The door opened. ‘So, this is where you are!’ Greta cried. ‘I thought you might have decided to go to London with Daisy.’

‘Heather’s a bit upset,’ Ruby explained.

‘I’m not surprised. I’ll cry buckets when my two get married. Mind you, for all I know, Ellie’s already married. She might even have another child.’ Greta smiled. ‘It doesn’t upset me any more. I’ve too much to do. I’m going to Grenoble skiing next week with the girls.’

Not only had Greta learnt to ski, she’d learnt to drive and play bridge. The ‘girls’ were a group of fortyish women with nothing else to do with their time except play cards, attend coffee mornings, and hold dinner parties. Ruby considered them an idle, useless lot.

She’d changed a lot had Greta since she married Matthew, not just her personality, but also her looks. She was becoming prettier as she grew older. Gone were the childish, frilly clothes she’d always been so fond of. Now she wore chic, expensive outfits that clung to her shapely figure, and her hair was expertly cared for by one of the best hairdressers in Liverpool. Regular visits to a beauty parlour had taught her the most flattering way to apply
make-up, so that she was always impeccably and beautifully turned out. Today, she wore an oatmeal tweed suit over a green silk blouse that matched the feathered hat she’d taken off when she got in.

‘Would you like a nice, stiff whisky, Heather?’ Greta asked.

‘No, thanks.’

But Ruby insisted it would do her good. ‘Fetch one for me while you’re at it. Then I’d better see to the guests.’

Daisy and Clint sat opposite each other on the London train. Clint had found a newspaper and was doing the crossword.

‘Two across, four letters, O.T. prophet.’ He groaned. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Old Testament. Does Esau fit?’

‘Isn’t Esau a donkey?’

‘No, that’s Eeyore.’ Daisy giggled.

‘I’ll leave it for now. Here’s a ten-letter one, three down. Author of
The Forsyte Saga
.’ He frowned. ‘I should know that. I’ve got an A level in English.’

‘Galsworthy,’ Daisy said promptly.

He looked at her curiously. ‘For someone who has such a hard job reading, you’re pretty smart, Daise.’