Mother’s Only Child. Anne Bennett
was hesitant with her father. Maybe he’d be hurt by this sign that Maria was leaving childhood behind; maybe he’d feel his permission should have been asked.
However, when she said this, her father smiled and squeezed her hand. ‘He did ask me, child, the time he came into hospital, when you took yourself off to powder your nose. He told me he’d loved you from the first time he’d seen you, but knew you were too young for him to speak and wouldn’t have done it just yet if things had gone to plan. Child, I want you to have a good, caring man by your side to share this burden you have taken on. Oh, I know Greg is in the army just now, but the war will not last for ever. He is a fine young man, one to be proud of, and he will make you a good husband.’
‘Thank you, Daddy.’
Maria doubted her mother took in the significance of the ring, but Barney did and he was shocked. He hadn’t been aware the relationship had gone so far in the short space of time they’d had together, for Maria had never mentioned to Barney that she was writing to Greg, nor that she’d taken to visiting Greg’s family.
‘Can you not be happy for me, Barney?’ she asked, noting his sullen face.
Barney could hardly tell her the truth. ‘You’re too young, far too young,’ he said.
‘For marriage, maybe,’ Maria said, ‘but this is engagement only.’
But it was enough. Barney felt sick to the pit of his stomach. ‘I have a present for you too,’ he said grudgingly, ‘though you’ll hardly want it now.’
‘Of course I will.’
Later, Maria looked at the dainty gold locket on the fine chain and thanked Barney with a peck on his cheek, though she wondered if she had been wise to accept it. It was like the gift a boy or man would give to his girlfriend. Surely Barney didn’t think…he couldn’t imagine…He came nearly every night to see her father and that was all, she told herself. He’d never given her more than a cursory glance. He had no one to advise him that the locket was an unsuitable gift, that was all it was. She dropped the locket in the drawer of her dressing table and threaded the ring on the chain, for it was rather large for her finger and she didn’t want to wear it openly till Greg was home and the engagement announced properly.
There was great jollification on New Year’s Eve at Maria’s house. The men who’d come before Christmas were joined by several others carrying instruments—a fiddle, banjo, accordion and bodhrán. They played the polkas and jigs they’d learnt in childhood.
Maria joined her female neighbours at the dancing. Then suddenly, as she wheeled around the room, she was caught up around the waist by one of the men not playing. Other men took hold of women until the whole room was a mass of people dancing. Even Bella, Maria saw, was inveigled into getting on her feet.
Sarah seemed to be enjoying herself as she sat before the fire, a smile playing about her mouth, and Sam’s face was one beam of delight. Eventually Maria stopped, a rosy hue to her face and gasping a little with the unaccustomed exertion.
‘Phew, I need a drink,’ she said to Dora, who was sitting by the table laid with goodies.
‘Another one has need of a drink too,’ Dora said grimly, indicating Con’s wife, sour-faced Brenda. ‘She has upset half the room and has watched every drop that has passed Con’s lips. Will you give her some stiff glasses of poteen to maybe loosen her up a bit? Anyway, the face on her would turn the milk sour.’
Maria laughed. ‘Oh, Dora, I couldn’t, and maybe she’d be worse if she had the drink on her.’
‘She couldn’t be worse, and if you care about Con at all, do all in your power to get that woman totally bottled,’ Dora said with an emphatic nod. ‘I’ll help you.’
Maria, Dora, and Bella—who joined in, seeing what they were at—plied the woman with drinks all night. In the end Con nearly had to carry her home. ‘At least she went with a smile on her face,’ Bella remarked.
‘Aye, but I wouldn’t have her head in the morning.’
‘It is New Year’s Eve,’ Bella remarked. ‘They’ll be a fair few the same.’
‘Aye, and one of them my father,’ Maria remarked. ‘Good job I’ve kept my wits about me for I have the feeling Mammy will be the very devil to settle tonight too.’
Cold and blustery weather heralded 1942. First, there was snow descending from the leaden skies like a blanket of white, the blustery winds causing drifts as high as the windowsills, and piling on the roads to freeze at night, turning the place into a skating rink. The thaw in February was followed by rain, peppering the roads like bullets, driven by powerful winds to hammer on the windows and soak any unfortunate caught out in it in seconds.
Maria was glad to reach the mugginess and doubtful heat of the workroom. Often her sodden coat, like many others, would steam over the gas fire in the staff room, especially lit for that purpose.
The girls all grumbled about the weather. ‘It’s every day the bloody same,’ Joanne said morosely. ‘And the constant grey skies would put years on a body.’
‘I must admit, I am fed up constantly feeling damp,’ Maria said. ‘The spring can’t come soon enough for me.’
But the weather ceased to matter the day Maria got the letter inside the birthday card from Greg, saying there was every likelihood he would get a spot of leave towards the end of the month. That day she had met the postman on the way to the bus stop and read the letter on the way to work.
‘What’s up with you?’ Joanne asked as she took her place beside her in the workroom. ‘You’ve got a dirty great smile plastered over your face.’
‘I got a letter from Greg,’ Maria said. ‘He thinks he’ll get leave soon.’
‘Embarkation leave, is it?’ another asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Maria said. ‘Probably. But I am not going to think of that. All I am going to concentrate on is my Greg coming home.’
She almost told them then about the ring, but she made herself wait. No one but her parents, Bella, Dora, Barney and Greg’s family had actually seen it yet. Maria wanted to have a bit of a ‘do’ when Greg came home and announce the engagement properly. When she had suggested this in a letter, he had been all for it, so she wasn’t going to spoil it now by telling, or showing anyone. She knew it would be all around the factory by lunch time.
In St George’s Army Barracks, Sutton Coldfield, Greg was lying on his bunk thinking of Maria and how wonderful she was, when the sergeant strode into the room. Greg leapt to his feet
‘Commander wants to see you, Hopkins,’ the sergeant said. ‘What you been up to lad?’
‘Nothing, Sarge.’ Greg could think of nothing he had done wrong.
‘Well, go and find out quick,’ the sergeant said. ‘Don’t keep him waiting.’
Greg thought back over the last few days for anything he might have done or said that was bad enough to be summoned by his commanding officer, but he could still think of nothing. Before he announced his presence he checked his boots, cleaning the toecaps with spit and a hanky, pulled his belt in, straightened his tie and knocked on the door with some trepidation.
‘Come in!’
As Greg opened the door and stepped in, the two people sitting in chairs across from the commanding officer turned. The big bullish man Greg had never seen before, but the girl beside him was Nancy Dempsey, a girl he hadn’t clapped eyes on for five months. This wasn’t the Nancy he knew, however. No mischievous light danced behind those black eyes, and there was no sulky pout to the lip. In fact her lip was split right open and her whole face was swollen and bruised. Greg stared at the man beside her with distaste. He had no time for men who raised their fists to women.
And when Nancy spoke her voice was thick and indistinct. ‘I’m sorry, Greg, really I am.’
Then