18 July 1934
It was a brilliant day, with the sun beaming down out of the blue sky and every bird for miles around, by the sound, singing its little head off. Caitlin walked along with a prance in her step despite her great age – she was going on fourteen – glancing around her constantly, because the streets were far emptier than she had previously seen them and it meant she could have a good look at everything. It was very early in the morning, but an early rising had been essential, for they had a special place reserved for them at the grand opening of the Mersey tunnel which her father and her brother had helped to build, and they had been advised to arrive in good time to avoid the crowds. It stood to reason that there would be crowds, because the King and Queen would be there, so everyone, naturally, would want to get a good place, so’s they could boast, afterwards, how they’d seen the Royals.
But Caitlin would have an especially good place, because she was going to give the Queen the beautiful bouquet of sweetly scented flowers which she held in the crook of her arm. Her father had promised to put her well to the fore in the enclosure which held tunnel workers and their wives and families, and had bought her the white and gold lilies and dark red roses which she now held so carefully. Colm had laughed when he saw the flowers, because his wife was Rose and his mammy-in-law Lily, but Caitlin had been far too excited to laugh. She had felt a little flutter in her stomach at the thought of her great moment, but now the moment was so near she wasn’t nervous, not really – why should she be? She had on her best dress, pale blue with a white Peter Pan collar and turn-back cuffs, and her new, light-weight coat over it, which was a darker blue. ‘It matches your eyes, queen,’ the lady in Lewis’s had said when she had tried it on yesterday. ‘You look a real treat.’ What was more, dear Rose had washed and set her curls so that they clustered round her face, shining like satin, and she had actually dabbed a little powder on Caitlin’s nose, because: ‘We’re sisters, and sisters should share,’ Rose had said, spraying some of her very own perfume behind Caitlin’s ears and giving her the daintiest little lace hanky to tuck into her coat pocket.
Caitlin had met Rose before, of course, because she and Mammy had come over, almost two years previously, for the wedding, and Caitlin had given the happy couple a present which she had saved up for and bought her own self. She had liked Rose very much then, and liked her even more now, because Rose had told her a secret last night, the most important secret anyone had ever entrusted her with. ‘We’re having a baby, me and your brother, in early December,’ she had whispered. ‘Won’t that be grand, now, Cait? You’ll be an auntie.’ But we’re not tellin’ the rest of the family until the tunnel’s been opened, so you’re the first to know.’
Thinking about the secret made Caitlin glance behind her to where Rose and Colm walked, hand in hand, and as she turned her eyes front again, her father, intercepting the look, winked at her. ‘Nervous, alanna?’ he asked, across her mammy. ‘You needn’t be – you’re the prettiest girl I ever did see an’ the whole city will be after envyin’ you when you give the flowers to the Queen.’
‘I’m a bit fluttery, just,’ Caitlin admitted. ‘But whyfor should I be nervous, Daddy? I’m too excited to be nervous.’
‘I’m nervous,’ her father protested. ‘I keep t’inkin’ suppose the lighting in me tunnel fails on us when the royal party drive through? Or suppose the mayor’s late arrivin’ an’ can’t get through the crowds?’
‘Nothing’s goin’ to go wrong,’ Eileen said firmly. ‘And we’re goin’ to be so proud of you, alanna!’ She squeezed her daughter’s hand. ‘A friend of your daddy’s is goin’ to tek a picture of you wit’ his camera – imagine that! You’ll be famous, so you will.’
Cracky, on her other side, gave a muffled short and Caitlin immediately jabbed him hard in the ribs with an indignant elbow. He was only here because she’d begged and pleaded, he’d better remember that! When Daddy had written that he had been told he might bring his family to the opening he had also said he would pay for one of Caitlin’s pals to come over ... and she had not hesitated. She had chosen Cracky and he’d been like an old alley moggy who’d stolen the cream with a grin from ear to ear. He had told her excitedly that he’d never crossed the sea, never thought to go to a foreign land, even if it were only England. What was more, he was clad from top to toe in borrowed raiment, mostly lent by friends of the mammy, he had better not forget that, either, or the grand meals he’d eaten and the grand sights he’d seen.
But she was secretly rather proud of Cracky, who had somehow managed to behave himself so far for three whole days without once putting his foot in it. He had slept on a put-u-up in the front room of the Ryders’ house, had scrubbed himself daily from top to toe and was taking great care of his borrowed plumage, besides eating everything offered to him at a seemly pace, with no cramming of the gob or talking with a mouthful – yes, Caitlin mused, she had been proud of him. She cast him a darkling glance, however, to remind him that despite being a little lady, she could still give him something to remember her by if he misbehaved.
But clearly, Cracky was mindful of his promise. He gave her the sweetest of gently forgiving smiles – Caitlin nearly malavoked him there and then, just to show him – and straightened his dark-blue tie. ‘Sorry Cait,’ he murmured. ‘Sure an’ the daddy’s right; you look more like a queen than the Queen, so you do.’
Caitlin giggled; she couldn’t help it. That was what she liked about Cracky, she decided; he could always make her laugh. And he looked downright handsome today, too, with his hair cut neatly – again, by Rose – and his white shirt collar so stiff it could have cut his own throat had he but bent his head too fast.
‘Not far now,’ her father said and Caitlin saw Eileen grip onto his arm with whitened fingers. Mammy’s nervous, she thought wonderingly, and she isn’t going to hand over flowers to the Queen, she hasn’t been practising a little bob curtsy, or digging under her nails with an orange stick. The bouquet, which was fresh and beautiful because Mrs Ryder had sprayed it with water just before they set out. Rose and Colm were chatting quietly and behind them Mrs Ryder and Mr Dawlish were walking very sedately, with Mrs Ryder’s hand tucked into the crook of Mr Dawlish’s elbow.
Rose’s Mam and Mr Dawlish were getting married in September, Caitlin had been told when they first landed in Liverpool, and when that happened the house would be less crowded, because Mrs Ryder wouldn’t need the lodging money so badly any more. Mr Dawlish was first officer on a transatlantic liner, and bringing home good money. And Colm had already got another job, since his work on the tunnel had ceased a few weeks previously. He had taken driving lessons, passed his test at the first attempt and now he drove a lorry from the docks to various destinations all over the north-west, carrying the goods which came from far-away countries. He enjoyed the work, which paid quite well, and best of all it meant he could sleep in his own bed each night.
But the best thing of all, to Caitlin’s mind, was that her daddy would not be staying in Liverpool but would be coming home with her and Cracky and the mammy when they returned to Ireland the following day. He had worked hard for six years on the tunnel and had gradually climbed the ladder of success – that was how her mammy had put it when describing her husband’s rise to her friends – until he was taking a great deal of responsibility and was very well thought-of by the senior staff.
He had saved and Mammy had saved, and then a cottage had come up for rent in Finglas and they had talked it over and taken Caitlin – and Cracky – to have a look at it. It wasn’t the one they had set their hearts on, things like that only happen in fairy stories, Caitlin supposed, but it was almost as nice – and it had more land.
‘We’ll take it, an’ I’ll grow ‘taters an’ cabbages an’ leeks an’ swedes,’ her father had said. ‘There’s a bit of an orchard already an’ we’ll put in currant bushes, gooseberries, raspberries . . . I’ll look after ’em when I’ve finished me work for the day, an’ I’ll get me a corrach so’s I can go fishin’ on the Tolka . . . sure an’ we’ll be happy as the day is long, Eileen me darlin’.’
Her father had known, Caitlin realised, that he would not get the sort of pay in Ireland that he had earned in England. Ireland was a poor country and did not pay its workers adequately for their toil. But he had applied for work with the Corporation, possibly as a road-mender, hoping he would be given a stretch of road near Finglas, and thought that with their savings, their garden produce and his earnings, such as they were, they would not starve.
‘And I’ll keep on earnin’, so I will,’ his wife had assured him. ‘And Caitlin will be out of school in the summer and she’ll no doubt earn too. Why, livin’ in Finglas she could get a job in service in Dublin an’ still get home o’ nights, for I’ll not have her sleepin’ away from home. Oh, we’ll be happy as pigs in muck, me dearest Sean.’
‘Pigs! Aye, we’ll have a couple o’ fatteners, an’ a sow or two down in the bit of orchard,’ Sean had said happily. ‘To say nothin’ o’ keepin’ hens, an’ maybe some geese.’
Caitlin was sure she would enjoy living in Finglas, but for the moment her thoughts were all on the King and Queen, the tunnel opening and, naturally, the moment when she would reverently place her flowers in the Queen’s arms. The Queen was rather old, but very grand, and so many people would be looking on! Not that they mattered; it was her own family who were important, this extended family of hers which now included Rose, Mrs Lily Ryder, Mr Dawlish – and of course Cracky.
‘Not long now, alanna,’ her father said, giving her an encouraging smile. ‘There’s plenty people about despite it being so early, but mebbe a good few of ’em’s goin’ to watch the King an’ Queen openin’ the East Lanes Road. Surely they aren’t all here for the tunnel?’
‘Don’t worry, Daddy, we’re still plenty early enough,’ Colm called. ‘But we’ll be after havin’ a long wait before anything happens, so let’s find a good place and then we’ll eat out carry-out.’
‘Picnic. It’s a picnic, so it is,’ Caitlin corrected him. ‘I’ve seen it! Sandwiches wit’ cold ham an’ lettuce, hard-boiled eggs, cold fried sausages in soft white rolls, little pink rosy apples ...’
‘Oh janey, you’re makin’ me hungry all over again,’ Cracky groaned. ‘Is it far, Mr O’Neill?’
‘We’re almost at Kingsway,’ Sean told him. ‘See over there? That’s the tunnel entrance. Impressive, eh?’
‘Great,’ Cracky said almost absently. ‘Where’ll we have our carry-out?’
‘Boys!’ Caitlin said, disgusted. ‘All they ever t’ink of is their bellies.’
‘Down there,’ Sean said, pointing. ‘We’ll get as close as we can to the barriers.’ He turned round and grinned at his son and daughter-in-law, who were carrying, not without difficulty, two large covered baskets. ‘Go careful wit’ the grub, the pair of ye.’ Young Cracky’s hungry already.’
‘I wouldn’t say no to a bite,’ Colm admitted, putting an arm round Rose. ‘Follow me, Daddy, alanna, an’ we won’t go far wrong.’
In an untidy group they hurried towards the place that Sean was pointing out to them.
It had been the grandest day in the world, Caitlin thought ecstatically as she climbed into bed that night. She was sharing Mrs Ryder’s big double on the first floor this last night, so that Rose and Colm could be together, but the adults were still downstairs, talking over what had happened that day. Caitlin, however, had been glad enough to go to bed; almost fourteen she might be, but she was tired out and wanted to be alone to relive every lovely moment of this most momentous of days.
For Caitlin, as her father had promised, had a ringside view of the King and Queen, and had given her flowers, if not to the Queen herself, to a charming lady in a wonderful, flowing dress, who had promised to see that the Queen got them when she got down from her car in Birkenhead. ‘There’ll be no chance, now, of handing them to her,’ she said consolingly to Caitlin. ‘But you’ve got nearer to the King and Queen today than most people do even when they live in London and can visit Buckingham Palace every day.’ And she had given Caitlin the sweetest smile as she followed the other members of the royal party who were taking to the cars once more.
After that they had met a lot of Sean’s and Colm’s fellow workers and their wives and children, and then a large party of them, a great many Irish amongst them, had gone off to a spacious fish and chip cafe on the Scotland Road, where they had pretty well filled the place and had a supper which, Cracky had said blissfully, would number amongst his best and happiest memories of a very wonderful visit.
She had, throughout the day, been proud to be seen with Cracky. He had looked so smart, with his hair almost smooth, and if his face still reminded her of a bulldog burning to teach another dog a lesson, sure and he couldn’t help that, could he? Her mammy said a person’s looks didn’t matter, and wasn’t it the person underneath who counted, so though it was a pity that Cracky wasn’t handsome, with regular feature and even white teeth ... well, he was Cracky, her best pal, which was all that mattered really. And presently, Caitlin slept.
Rose and Colm climbed into their bed in the attic room and put their arms about each other, and Colm smoothed the curls away from Rose’s face and kissed along the line of her jaw and told her how much he loved her and how lucky they were. ‘For when I came to England I’d been dotty over the silliest, most selfish girl in the whole of Dublin, an’ I didn’t care for me own daddy overmuch,’ he whispered, though there was no need for quiet, since they were the only ones up here in the converted attics. ‘Then I saw Mona, an’ didn’t I nearly do the same t’ing again, fallin’ for yaller hair an’ a come-hither manner?’
‘I knew it,’ Rose said severely, snatching up his hand and pretending to bite his fingers. ‘I could see right through you, Colm O’Neill!’
‘Well, it didn’t take me long to realise that me daddy was a grand feller, a daddy to be proud of. And sure an’ I was even quicker to realise that little Rose Ryder was a pearl beyond price, so she was, an’ poor Mona just ... just a pretty face.’
‘Oh?’ Rose said, suspiciously sweet. ‘And I’ve not got a pretty face, then?’ As she spoke she picked up his hand again and fastened her teeth in his thumb. ‘Rephrase that,’ she said thickly, through thumb. ‘Or I’ll bite you so’s you’ll be scarred for life, you big jessy.’
‘Oh, oh!’ Colm shouted. ‘She’s disfigurin’ me! Help!’
He got his thumb back and a punch in the chest at the same time. ‘Shut up, you idiot, or someone’ll be coming up to see if we’re being robbed,’ Rose whispered, giggling. ‘I didn’t know you weren’t too friendly wi’ your daddy, Colm. Why was that?’
‘Well, I didn’t know him too well,’ Colm said after a moment’s thought. ‘It’s hard on the women an’ kids left behind when a feller comes across the water to work, an’ I t’ink I got to believin’ we could manage very well wit’out him. But he’s a grand feller, me daddy. I’ll miss him.’
‘Me too,’ Rose said soberly. ‘He’s got a good head on him, your daddy. If it hadn’t been for his far-sightedness, you’d not have gone for your driving licence, nor left the tunnel whilst the pay was still coming in regular. But now you’re safe in a good job whilst all the other poor devils is just starting out to find work.’
‘That’s it. But though we’ll miss Daddy, and the family, they’re startin’ on a new life which will be a deal better for all of them,’ Colm said. ‘And soon enough, alanna, we’ll be startin’ our own new life, because when your mammy becomes Mrs Dawlish she says they may move out an’ leave us to pay them rent an’ get ourselves some lodgers to make ends meet.’
‘Ye-es, but they won’t go too soon,’ Rose said after a rather doubtful pause. ‘I know I’ll be stopping work in a few months, but I’ve always had Mam standing by, if you see what I mean. When it’s just you and me running this place ... it’ll be different.’
‘It won’t be just you an’ me, don’t forget this feller,’ Colm said, laying his hand gently on Rose’s rounding stomach. ‘Believe me, alanna, he’ll make it all worthwhile.’
‘I know it,’ Rose admitted. ‘Mam’s longing to be a gran, too. I just wish . . . but it’s no use wishin’. Wishin’ butters no parsnips.’
‘You were wishin’ your daddy hadn’t died on you,’ Colm murmured. ‘I wish I’d known him, Rosie. But at least you’ve never let your mammy believe that you grudged her marryin’ again. You’re kind, so you are.’
‘I understand more how lonely she must have been, because when you stormed out that time I just wanted to die,’ Rose mumbled. ‘It did me good, that. If I hadn’t remembered how I felt I don’t think I could have been nice to poor Mr Dawlish when Mam told me they were engaged.’
‘There you are, then – everythin’ happens for the best, one way or t’other. Now are you goin’ to let me get some sleep, Mrs O’Neill, or shall I be goin’ to work tomorrer wit’ great bags under me eyes an’ me steps draggin’?’
‘Me, stopping you? I like that! But hasn’t it been a good day, Colm? One of the nicest days ever, I should think.’
‘Aye, pretty good. Well, tomorrer I’ll be drivin’ through the tunnel – think o’ that! Why, I’ll be deliverin’ in Birkenhead in a few minutes instead of havin’ to drive right the way round. And though I’ll be sayin’ goodbye to Daddy tomorrer, in a few months I’ll be a daddy meself. We’ve come a long way since first I come to St Domingo Vale, young Rosie, a rare long way.’
‘We have,’ Rose mumbled. ‘Oh, and you shouldn’t tek it for granted that we’re having a boy; it could be a girl.’
‘Oh aye? An’ pigs might fly.’
Colm lay very still, ready to dodge, to catch her and kiss her, but there was no retribution for his daring and presently he realised why. Rose was asleep.
Colm rolled over and put his arms round her. It’s a wonderful world, he thought contentedly. We’ll never be rich or famous, but we’ll be happy, me an’ Rose, an’ that’s a lot more important. He began to think of the future, of the child which would be born in nice time for Christmas, of the work in store when his in-laws moved out. I should be like Daddy, an’ plan an’ save an’ be farseeing an’ sensible, he was thinking. I’ll write a list tomorrer, I’ll put down just what we’ll be wantin’ ...
And Colm, curled round Rose, slept.