It was during one of the visits to her granny in the middle of June, when Amy was thirty weeks’ pregnant, that Muriel was taken ill. One moment the old lady was laughing at something Sally had said as the three women sat with a cup of tea and a slice of Sally’s seed cake, the next she was clutching her chest and gasping for breath. Sally sent Abe galloping for Dr Boyce and Amy held her granny in her arms as Muriel slipped into unconsciousness, her last words, spoken in a faint whisper through blue lips, being, ‘I love you, me bairn.’
By the time the doctor arrived ten minutes later there was nothing he could do. Muriel’s valiant heart, which had been labouring for years, was still. Amy sat clutching her granny, shocked and numb. She could not believe the indomitable old lady wouldn’t suddenly sit up and finish her cake, apologising for giving them all such a scare. Death had removed every sign of pain from the wrinkled old face and Muriel looked as if she was sleeping peacefully.
Abe fetched Charles from the restaurant, and it was not until Amy caught sight of her husband and he took her into his arms that she began to cry. Then she found she could not stop. Dr Boyce gave her a sedative before Charles drove her home and put her to bed, but when he wanted to call their own doctor the next morning she refused.
‘All the pills in the world won’t bring her back.’ Amy touched her husband’s arm. ‘And I have to face that.’
‘But not all at once, dear.’
‘Yes, all at once. It’s the only way I can cope. I can’t shut it out. It’s happened. And there is our baby to think of. He or she is the most important thing in all of this. There is a train of thought that suggests medication has an effect on a child in the womb.’
‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Charles shook his head.‘I’m sure it would be all right for you to have something to help you sleep.’
‘I’d rather not.’
‘Very well.’ His voice was soft. ‘I won’t try and persuade you if you’ve made your mind up because I know it will be no use. And don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t a criticism. One of the things that first caught my attention about you was your independent spirit and strength. Most of the women I had known before I met you were used to being pampered and cosseted, they lived in ivory towers where the more unpleasant things of life couldn’t touch them. They would wilt under adversity.’
‘I think you were associating with the wrong sort of people then,’ she said very seriously.
‘And I think you are right.’ His arms went about her and he held her gently. They remained quiet for a moment or two, looking at each other.Then he said, ‘I wish I had a tenth of your strength, Amy. Do you know that? But you have married a weak man. How weak I wasn’t aware of until quite recently. That, perhaps, is my only excuse.’
Although he hadn’t said so directly she knew in her bones he was talking about his desire for the bottle, and in that moment she knew she hadn’t been wrong about his overnight business trips. She wanted to ask him where he went and how much he drank, but in spite of all his talk about her strength, she just didn’t have the energy for it, not with her grandma having gone. Nor could she face bringing up the subject of the business right now.These problems would have to be dealt with, but in a little while. After the funeral. Somehow the time between then and now was her granny’s. She leaned against him, saying, ‘You can be strong if you wish it, Charles. I know you can.’
He smiled at her but didn’t reply. A second or two later he patted her hand and walked to the door of their bedroom. There he turned and stared at her as she lay against the pillows. ‘Stay in bed today at least.’
‘I’ll see how I feel.’ She knew she wasn’t going to stay in bed. There was the funeral to arrange, for a start; her granny wasn’t going to have a pauper’s send-off. She would be buried with respect and then folk could come here for the reception. She had to contact her uncle and Kitty, and let May and her cousins know what had happened. And then there was Bruce. Perce was a different kettle of fish; she would let Aunt May inform her eldest son of his grandmother’s passing. There were a hundred things to do and she would feel better if she kept busy.
The six days between Muriel’s death and the funeral felt like six months to Amy, but eventually the burial took place on a warm summer’s day, the birds singing and the sun resplendent in a blue sky full of fluffy white clouds. Amy remained stiff and controlled throughout the short service and the burial in the churchyard, but her heart felt as though it was being torn out by its very roots. It didn’t help matters that Charles had vanished on one of his ‘business trips’ two nights before, returning the next morning very much the worse for wear. He’d excused his bleary eyes and sickly appearance by saying he had a bad headache and hadn’t slept well. Amy, upset and near the end of her tether, hadn’t challenged him, afraid she would say more than was prudent.
Charles knew how much she needed him at the moment, she told herself bitterly. How could he leave her just before the funeral? And what would happen when the baby was born if he couldn’t even support her now? Would he continue to disappear every so often when the fancy took him? Or, worse, would he take to drinking at home again with all the horror and difficulties that brought with it? She supposed she had been naive and foolish to believe their having a child together could change him, but she had thought so, deep inside. Or perhaps she had just hoped so.
Amy glanced at her husband as he sat, silent and appropriately solemn-faced in the smart funeral carriage beside her. Ronald and Kitty were sitting opposite them. Kitty had declined to accompany Ronald at first but when she’d learned that May had refused to attend, even going so far as to ban the children’s presence too, she had travelled up with him and come to the funeral.
The Prices were in the next carriage, quite overcome with the grandeur of the cortège, and Bruce was with them. Many of Muriel’s old neighbours and friends were following too.
Charles caught Ronald’s eye. ‘I’m glad Bruce was able to come,’ he said quietly. ‘I understand he’s working in Sheffield as an apprentice mechanic and you correspond regularly.’
‘Aye, that’s right.’ Ronald ran his finger round the inside of his starched shirt collar which was chafing his neck. He knew his mother had understood his leaving the town but he wished with all his heart he had been able to see her one last time. ‘He seems to have landed on his feet.’
Charles nodded. ‘He tells me the two of you get on well.’
‘Oh aye. Bruce is a good lad, always has been.’
As the two talked on, Amy listened to them with only half her mind.The circumstances had made seeing Bruce and Kitty again bitter-sweet. Her precious,
precious
granny was gone and it was hard to believe she would have to start living the rest of her life without her. She sat quite still in the carriage, her gaze fixed on her hands lying in her lap. What am I going to do without her? she thought. How will I bear it? And then the child in her belly kicked hard and instinctively she covered the place with her hand. She would have her baby and she would get used to the loss of the little woman who had been so much more than a grandmother. Her granny would expect that.
Sally said much the same thing later in the afternoon. Her grandmother’s friend was standing with her husband and Ronald and Kitty, and as Amy passed, she caught her arm, drawing her into their circle. ‘Your gran would be right pleased with how you’re coping, lass. I can tell you that. She was never one to wear her heart on her sleeve, was Muriel, but she thought the world of you. Oh aye, she did that. And with the little one coming she would have wanted you to knuckle down and get on with things.’
Amy nodded. ‘Yes, I know, Mrs Price.’
‘And she’d have been tickled to death with such a send-off, ’ Sally added with unconscious dark humour. ‘Put great store by a good wake, did your granny, but then you know that, lass. Aye, you’ve done her proud, right enough.’
Amy nodded but it was an effort. She wished this awful day would end and everyone would go home, but as yet there was no sign of this happening. Everyone was enjoying themselves too much for one thing. Charles had arranged for his kitchen staff at the restaurant to provide a wonderful spread which had been brought to the house, and with a good supply of beer, wine and spirits to augment the copious cups of tea some of the old ladies were drinking, it had turned into quite a party. But Kitty’s mother was right, her gran
would
have loved to think her departure from this mortal plain was accomplished with such gusto.
Amy smiled at Kitty and Kitty smiled back, mouthing silently, ‘You’re doing fine.’ It warmed Amy, especially because there had been an awkwardness between the two of them when they had first greeted each other at the church. She wished Kitty well, she really did, but everything was different and she hadn’t expected it to be. She had imagined herself perhaps confiding in Kitty and asking her advice about Charles’s drinking but now she saw that wasn’t possible. Kitty was with her uncle and likely to tell him everything and she didn’t want that.
Amy left the group and continued her duties as hostess. She noticed Charles and Bruce deep in conversation, a glass of whisky in their hands. Dear Bruce. Her eyes misted as she looked at her cousin. He was just the same as ever despite the air of affluence the smart suit he was wearing gave him. She had hugged him at the church as though she would never let him go but he didn’t seem to mind. She wondered now what he thought of Charles.
Charles had had several whiskies. They were apparent in his flushed countenance and overloud voice. She wished she could take the glass from his hand and order him to drink no more. She knew the signs. Soon he would become irritable and quarrelsome, it happened every time. And he had promised her on his oath that he wouldn’t touch any alcohol when he had insisted they couldn’t have a ‘dry’ wake as she’d requested.
She walked over to the two men but it was Bruce she spoke to. ‘I’m so glad you could come. Were they all right about you having the time off work?’
‘Aye, no problem. Not after I’d explained why.’ His voice low, he added, ‘My mam wouldn’t come then?’
‘No, and she wouldn’t let any of the girls come either.’
‘That’s a pity.’ He turned his eyes to where his father and Kitty were standing. ‘I can understand it though.’
Amy’s gaze followed his and she nodded. ‘I’m glad you’re doing what you’re happy at,’ she said quietly, ‘but it’s as well you got out when you did, for more than one reason. You wouldn’t have wanted to have to choose between your mam and your da and you’re far enough away now to be neutral.’
Bruce’s voice was wry when he said, ‘Aye, that hadn’t escaped me either. Mind, Mam’s not unhappy where she is, far from it. I think she actually prefers it with her mam and da although she would never admit to it; she likes to play the wronged woman for all it’s worth. But Da drove her mad most of the time as you know. Not that that would persuade her to give him a divorce. He’s written to ask her several times, you know.’
Amy shook her head, her face betraying her shock.‘I didn’t know.’ She hadn’t met one Catholic who had ever contemplated a divorce though perhaps she should have expected her uncle and Kitty would want to get married.
‘I think he could wait till hell freezes over and Mam will still dig her heels in but that’s up to them.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Amy smiled at him before turning to Charles. She gave him a straight look and then dropped her eyes meaningfully to the glass in his hand. He ignored her but she had expected him to.
It was as the first guests began to leave that Amy found herself alone with Kitty for a few moments. Ronald was deep in conversation with Bruce across the other side of the room and Amy found she felt more comfortable with her old friend without her uncle being present.
Kitty must have realised how she felt because she said straightaway, ‘I know it was a bolt from the blue, me and Ronald, but I’d always carried a torch for him. I’d never have let on, not in a million years if he’d been happy with May, but . . .’ She shrugged.
Amy didn’t know what to say. Eventually she managed, ‘He’s happy now. You only have to look at him to see that.’
Kitty grinned. ‘Oh aye, he’s happy all right.’ Then, her face straightening, she said, ‘And you, lass? Are you happy? Oh, I know this with your granny has knocked you sideways, but I mean with him. With Charles. Is everything all right?’
Amy stared at her, taken aback. She didn’t know if Kitty had picked up on something or whether she was enquiring because they hadn’t seen each other since the wedding, but suddenly it was natural to say, ‘Not completely. He’s got business worries and he’s drinking too much. Much too much, Kitty.’ There was a break in Amy’s voice as she said this and Kitty hesitated for a moment before taking Amy in her arms and hugging her.