A Girl Can Dream. Anne Bennett

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      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 a dozen in the twinkling of an eye, but instead brought his wages home to Meg as he had done to Maeve and took out some pocket money for himself that would pay for his ciggies and beer.

      He began to go again to the football matches on Saturday afternoons with his brothers and Terry, and promised Billy he would take him along soon, and he gave all the children money to go to the thruppenny crush on Saturday morning. Meg was pleased to see all of them warming once again to the father who had been lost to them for a little while.

      Aunt Rosie, who greatly admired Meg and the way she had stepped up to take over the family, popped in one afternoon for a cup of tea and asked her if she had ever resented giving up her dreams.

      ‘No,’ Meg said. ‘Resent is the wrong word. I promised Mom I would look after them all and I want to keep my word, but I can’t help being envious of other girls who don’t have my responsibilities.’

      ‘And what of your own future?’

      ‘That’s on hold until all the children are grown and settled,’ Meg said, but she said it without the slightest shred of self-pity. Rosie was impressed by her maturity and she said this to Meg.

      Meg smiled. ‘Nicholas said almost exactly the same thing the day of Mom’s funeral.’

      ‘Did he?’

      ‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘I think in many ways he feels a bit like a fish out of water.’

      Rosie nodded. ‘Robert thinks that too.’

      ‘Well, he’s neither one thing nor the other,’ Meg said. ‘He hardly knows your lads or our Terry because he has never been allowed to mess around with them, and yet he never brings friends home from that posh school or talks about going to their houses or out with them at the weekend.’

      ‘Susan says he has lots of homework.’

      ‘I suppose he will have,’ Meg said. ‘But surely not every hour of every day? All this studying is making him look different and, however clever he is, no schoolwork is as good as having friends to knock about with.’

      ‘It does sound very lonely,’ Rosie said. ‘But the worm might be turning because your uncle Alec was saying that since the funeral Nicholas has been pulling against the apron strings and he hasn’t been as keen as doing his mother’s bidding as he was. Even argued with her, he said, and he had never heard him do that before.’

      ‘I’m surprised Uncle Alec has had nothing to say about it before now,’ Meg said.

      ‘He did try to have a hand in raising the boy at first,’ Rosie said, ‘but Susan made it plain that rearing her child was her business. A man can be too easy-going, and that is our Alec. The general consensus is that Alec is a decent enough fellow, but that Susan is rather snooty, and the way she keeps her lad to his books is neither right nor healthy. Turning him into a mommy’s boy, people say. And for a quiet life Alec has sat back and let her ruin the lad.’

      Meg hadn’t thought Nicholas ruined, just lonely, and so she was pleased when Terry came in the following Saturday morning after playing football in Calthorpe Park with his friends to say that Nicholas had not only turned up to play with them but had brought a proper leather ball. Charlie, who had just come home from work for his dinner, was also surprised at what Terry had said. ‘That’s a turn-up for the books, ain’t it?’

      Terry nodded. ‘I’ll say it is.

      ‘Never even knew he owned a football.’

      ‘Nor me,’ Terry said. ‘It’s brand-new, like: never been used.’

      ‘Is he any good at football?’ Meg asked.

      ‘No he ain’t,’ Terry said emphatically. ‘He’s flipping useless. Our Billy could play better than him. He don’t even play football at his school. He plays summat called “rugger”. Anyway,’ he added, ‘he said he’ll have to learn the rules so he is going with his dad to a match this afternoon.’

      Nicholas didn’t enjoy the football match because he barely knew his cousins. In the company of Uncle Robert’s sons, Stan and Dave, he felt like a baby. Dave was the same age as Nicholas but in September he had joined his father at Dunlop’s, where sixteen-year-old Stan had been working for two years. As they barely knew Nicholas they tended to talk mainly to Terry.

      And Nicholas decided it was all very well for his mother to crow on about how getting a good education now would mean a better job in the future, Nicholas thought, but in the meantime these were his relatives and the people he lived among, and he hardly knew them. He hadn’t made friends with many boys at school either, because most of them came from much more affluent backgrounds and he was nervous about their finding out he lived in a back-to-back house. There were bullies at the school who he was sure would make his life a misery if it ever got out. In contrast, there hadn’t got to be any pretence with his cousins, so he decided there and then to get to know them better, to take charge of his own life and try and make his mother understand that he wasn’t a little boy any more.

      By the end of October Meg knew she had to get some winter clothes for Ruth, when she did the usual Friday shopping. Charlie had given her the extra money she had asked for and Terry had told her to go ahead and not to rush back, that they could make something for themselves at lunchtime.

      Meg thought it was nice to be able to take her time and not have one eye on the clock, so after she had bought her usual purchases, she and Billy made for the Market Hall. As usual the pram was carried up the steps by willing helpers and Billy had his play with the animals at Pimm’s pet shop before they set off to look around the stalls for clothes for Ruth. They watched the clock strike midday and then Meg found a stall with some beautiful baby clothes, including a fair number of winter-weight dresses. Most were not new, but Ruth wouldn’t care about that. They were very pretty, for although they were mainly white or cream they had pretty designs on them or beautiful smocking or contrasting collars. There were fluffy little cardigans and warm pram sets with matching bonnets and bootees, and they were all so reasonable she was pleased to be able to buy a big bundle of clothing.

      ‘All for you, this is, miss,’ she told the baby, who rewarded her with a smile.

      ‘Well, long time no see,’ said a voice beside her.

      Meg swung round. ‘Joy,’ she cried. ‘How lovely to see you again.’

      ‘Yes,’ Joy agreed. ‘I come here most Fridays and have a mooch round and a bite to eat usually, in the café. Like to join me and we can have a natter?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t think …’

      Joy knew what was bothering Meg. ‘My treat today,’ she said.

      ‘Oh, СКАЧАТЬ