A Girl Can Dream. Anne Bennett
sip of her tea as Meg said, ‘It might upset me, but Mom’s things have got to be taken out of that room, haven’t they?’
‘They have,’ May said firmly. ‘You shouldn’t do it all on your own, though. I’ll give you a hand if you like.’
‘Would you?’
‘I would and gladly,’ May said. ‘And I say no time like the present.’
‘Now?’
‘Why not?’ May said. ‘Little Ruthie is asleep, Billy’s out playing and I have nothing pressing, so come on, let’s strike while the iron is hot.’
Afterwards, Meg was so glad that May was there with her ready banter to keep misery away, for every garment she lifted from the wardrobe, or drew from the chest of drawers evoked poignant memories of her mother.
But at last all was done and packed away in two tea chests, which Meg got from the attic; a cardboard box that May produced took all the combs, brushes and creams and so forth that littered her dressing table.
Meg was apprehensive about their father’s reaction, but she needn’t have worried. When she asked him to go upstairs to see what she had done, he went straight away and stood for a moment in the doorway.
‘You … you’ve cleared out Maeve’s things,’ he said to Meg.
‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘Only as far as the attic, though, in case you want to keep anything.’
‘I don’t need a keepsake to remember Maeve. She will be in my heart for ever,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m glad, relieved that you cleared her things away. I couldn’t bring myself to do it and I thought it would be too upsetting for you.’
‘It was a bit,’ Meg admitted. ‘But May helped me.’
‘She’s a good neighbour, that May,’ Charlie said.
‘None better,’ Meg agreed, and then took a deep breath. She didn’t know how her father would take to the idea of her wearing her dead mother’s clothes. ‘The point is, Daddy, what do you want me to do with Mom’s things now?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Well, Mom was going to buy me some new things for starting work,’ Meg said. ‘The ones I have now don’t fit too well.’
Charlie looked at his daughter and saw that she was right. Her skirts were far too short and her buttons were strained across her bodice. He was ashamed that he hadn’t seen these things for himself.
‘My boots pinch my feet too,’ Meg said. ‘But if you wouldn’t mind me adapting Mom’s clothes to fit me, Jenny could have my things and Sally have Jenny’s and it will only be the boys who will have to have new things for the winter – and Ruth, of course.’
Charlie drew in a deep breath. ‘I don’t say that it won’t cut me to the quick to see you in Maeve’s things, but if she were beside me this moment she would berate me for being stupid. She has no need of clothes and you have, you all have, so take what you need and I will learn to deal with it.’
Charlie’s eyes were like pools of pain and Meg cried, ‘Oh, Dad, are you sure?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘I’m not sure of anything much anymore, Meg,’ he said. ‘But I do know that it’s the sensible thing to do. Oh, Meg, Meg, I’ve been little help to you these past weeks.’
‘Oh, Dad, don’t,’ Meg said, embarrassed.
‘I know I’ve been selfish,’ Charlie said, ‘and I don’t blame you looking like that. My brothers have both been on about how I was behaving, but somehow I couldn’t see any way forward and drinking blurred it a bit. I missed your mother so much, and then the child … every time I looked at her, it brought it all back.’
‘I know, Dad,’ Meg said. ‘I feel Mom’s loss too, but it isn’t Ruth’s fault.’
‘I know that really,’ Charlie said, ‘but somehow I can’t feel for her the way I do about you and the others.’
‘Oh, Dad.’
Charlie looked at the tears sparkling in his daughter’s eyes. ‘Don’t take on, old girl,’ he said. ‘I’m doing my best and I’m determined to change. I reckon I have wallowed in grief long enough. Time to take up the reins again.’
Meg was delighted to hear her father’s words; if he meant them, their way forward would be easier. She thought of saying more about Ruth, but in the end said nothing. If he didn’t spend all the time in the pub and saw more of her, Meg thought he was bound to fall under Ruth’s spell, as the others had. Until that happened, she didn’t want to rock the boat. One day at a time, she told herself as she mounted the stairs to the attic.
Billy had his fifth birthday and there was a little tea party for him with all the delicacies that he liked. May had helped her to make a cake with five candles on it and had also given Billy a couple of toy cars that he was thrilled with. Meg bought him a small blackboard and a packet of chalks that she had seen in the Market Hall at a very reasonable price. Billy’s attention had been taken at the time with the animals at Pimm’s pet shop, so he hadn’t known a thing about it. ‘You can practise for going to school.’ She told him. ‘Only you’ll have a slate there, but it’s more or less the same thing.’ He unwrapped it and gave a cry of delight.
Billy’s fifth birthday seemed to bring the thought even closer that he would soon be a school boy and Meg realized that she would miss his company though Ruth would miss him more because they had become very good friends. And every Friday morning after paying the rent, rain or shine, she would push Ruth in her pram to the Bull Ring to shop for the bargain vegetables and meat. It was a hefty walk for little legs, so Billy would usually be hoisted up on the end of the pram for part of the journey there. He could sometimes hitch a ride back too. It would depend on how much produce Meg could pack around Ruth, or stuff into the large bag she had hanging from the pram handle.
Meg loved going to the Bull Ring now that she didn’t have to hang about to be given meat and vegetables no one else had wanted, but could buy from the costers, like any other respectable person. She seldom went to the Bull Ring without remembering her meeting with Joy. She knew it was unlikely she would see her again but, Joy or no Joy, the Bull Ring was an exciting place. Meg liked the noise, the riotous energy of the place, the special smells that rose in the air and the banter and cries of the costers.
Billy was always as good as gold on these trips because he knew that if he behaved himself there was a chance Meg would take him into the Market Hall to play with the animals in Pimm’s pet shop and see the clock strike. It was the highlight of his visit, and willing hands were always around to whisk the pram up and down the steps to the Market Hall, as if it weighed nothing at all. While Meg scrutinised the prices of the various goods on sale, Billy was entranced by the twittering canaries, the colourful budgerigars and the squawking parrot that called out incessantly, ‘Who’s a pretty boy, then?’ He also liked the fish swimming endlessly around their bowls and the baby rabbits and guinea pigs, but best of all were the mewling kittens and the playful boisterous puppies that nipped at his fingers.
When the clock chimed as a prelude to striking the hour it drew everyone’s attention. A sort of hush came over the place as the figures of three knights and a lady struck the bell denoting the hour.
Billy always gave a sigh when it was over. ‘I love that clock.’ he’d say nearly every week as they made their way home. Meg could have said she liked the clock too, for waiting for the clock to strike was the only time in the day that Billy stopped chattering for two minutes at a time.
Though Terry had been doubtful that his father would change that much, he had been pleasantly surprised. He no longer slipped into the pub on his way home on a Thursday, when one swift drink would turn into half