After the two women had cleared away the breakfast, Ma said, ‘Wait for me in the front room, Cara, and I’ll help you get ready for the wedding.’
‘But—’
‘No, don’t argue. I’ll join you in a minute.’ When Cara had gone, she turned to her husband. ‘Will you keep an eye on Niamh, Patrick? You and I are the only ones who’re ready, and very nice you look too.’ She went across to pat his cheek.
He pulled her into his arms and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. ‘You look lovely today. Are you sure you’re not the bride?’
‘Get on with you!’ But she smiled at him, because she knew he meant it, though she had never been lovely, even in her youth.
She looked disapprovingly at her son-in-law. ‘While I help Cara get ready, you need to do something about your appearance, Fergus my lad. I’ve laid out your Sunday best and your sons’ best clothes, too. Go upstairs with your Da and get changed, boys. You’ll not be going to school today.’
The two of them cheered.
She gave Fergus a little push. ‘And hurry up about it. We don’t want to be late. I had the devil’s own job persuading Father Benedict to marry you, as it was. He said to be there at nine o’clock sharp.’
‘But I thought we four were just making a quick trip to the church to get married? You said you’d arranged for Mrs Bell next door to keep an eye on the baby and the boys would be at school.’
‘Well, I changed my mind, didn’t I? It might be a small wedding, but the whole family is going, and I’ll carry the baby today, not Cara. We’re dressing up for it because we’re not cheating Cara of a special day. It means a lot to a woman, her wedding does.’
She stared round so fiercely as she said this, no one dared to protest. When she made another shooing movement, Fergus took his sons upstairs.
As Mrs Grady joined her in the front room, Cara said, ‘I don’t have anything special to wear today, Mrs Grady, so there isn’t much getting ready to do. I sponged down my blue dress, to get the stains off, but that was the best I could do.’
‘Call me Ma, like Fergus does, from now on, dear. And you do have something special to wear. I got Mrs Sealey to speak to your aunt, who sent this.’ She gestured to the large, well-worn carpet bag which had been delivered late the previous day.
Cara had been exhausted and ready for bed after a nearly sleepless night with little Niamh the night before that, and hadn’t paid it much attention when a lad delivered it to the house. When it was whisked into the front room without an explanation, she’d assumed it was something the Gradys had bought for the trip to Australia.
‘I didn’t say anything because you were asleep on your feet, but your aunt persuaded your mother to sneak out one of your good dresses for you to wear today, and a few other things too. She and your aunt said to tell you they were delighted to hear that you were getting married, and they wish you and your husband well in Australia.’
But they hadn’t offered to come to her wedding, had they? Cara thought bitterly. But perhaps … ‘Did they send a note with it?’
‘No. I’m sorry.’
‘What about my father? Was he delighted about me getting married?’
Ma patted her in wordless sympathy. ‘Your aunt told Mrs Sealey they hadn’t said anything to him about this, and why would you want his approval anyway? The man’s a cruel monster and if I ever meet him, I’ll tell him that to his face, so I will. Now, open your bag and let’s be seeing what they’ve sent you.’
Cara’s fingers were trembling as she opened it. The bag was so full, things spilled out. Tears came into her eyes as she found her new maroon skirt and bodice carefully rolled up on top. She shook them out, delighted that they weren’t badly wrinkled, pleased that her mother had sent this outfit, which Cara had chosen with such care. She’d never even had the chance to wear it before being turned out of her home, so it was brand new.
She held it to her chest and buried her face in its soft folds for a moment, then went back to the bag.
Into it were squashed some of her everyday clothes, both winter and summer garments, as well as petticoats and underwear, stockings and two pairs of shoes.
But though she searched carefully, there was no note hidden anywhere in the bag. Not one word from her mother.
‘No crying, darlin’,’ Ma said softly. ‘This is your wedding day and I want you to have some good memories of it.’
But Cara could see that Ma’s eyes were also brimming with sympathetic tears. On an impulse she hugged the older woman. ‘You’re the most generous person I’ve ever met, Ma. I know this must be painful for you, coming so soon after your daughter’s death.’
‘Nothing we do will bring my Eileen back, but I can see how much you love her child, and that comforts me.’
But was Fergus regretting his decision to marry again? Cara wondered. He’d hardly said a word to her since his abrupt proposal, even though he was nearby most of the time. With so few days before they left, he’d stopped going to work now in order to sell or otherwise dispose of the furniture and household items. He’d worked in the back yard the previous day, making a bigger box for his tools. It was a beautifully made thing, the wood smooth and new.
Ma helped Cara to dress, marvelling openly at the beauty of the clothes and underclothes. When the bride was ready, the older woman stood back, staring at her, looking rather shocked now.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I hadn’t realised …’
‘Realised what?’ Cara looked down at herself, worried that something was wrong.
‘I didn’t realise how much of a lady you were.’
‘I’m not a lady now.’
‘You are so. You behave well in a difficult situation, and today you look dainty and ladylike. Fergus is a lucky man in more ways than one.’
‘I’m the lucky one, to have found someone willing to overlook what happened.’
Ma gave Cara a shake. ‘Don’t ever say that again. You didn’t do anything wrong, some man did. May he rot in hell!’
‘My father said I must have encouraged him. He’s a friend of my father still.’
‘Cara, we’ve lived closely together for weeks, and I’m old enough to tell the good girls from the bad. You’re a good one. And remember this: you and Fergus are marrying because you both need each other. Patrick and I need you, too, to raise our grandchildren. So this marriage is a good bargain for every single one of us. That’s not a bad starting point for a new life, now is it?’
‘I suppose not.’
‘And don’t ever again apologise to anyone for what wasn’t your fault.’
‘Thank you.’ The words were muffled but Ma returned the hug that went with them and the two women stood closely together for a few moments.
Then footsteps clattered down the stairs and the clock in the kitchen chimed the quarter hour.
‘Ah, will you listen to me going on when we’re in a hurry.’ Alana gave Cara a push towards the door. ‘Let’s go and show them how nice you look, and I’ll check that they’re decent. Then we must set off for the church.’
It felt wrong to Fergus to be wearing his Sunday best on a weekday. Well, everything felt strange at the moment. He wasn’t going to work, items he’d struggled to buy were disappearing from his house one by one as he sold them, usually for far less than he’d paid for them. And he was getting married today for the second time.
In the slow, dark hours of the night, he sometimes wondered if this was all a dream – or perhaps a nightmare.
He turned as he heard the door to the front room open, waiting for Cara to come and join them in the kitchen. But he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.
She flushed under his gaze, but he couldn’t stop gaping at her. She wasn’t beautiful, not exactly, because her face was too narrow and her nose a trifle long, but she looked pretty and so ladylike today, he felt as if she didn’t belong here, as if she was a stranger he’d never met before.
Her skirt was very full, with material bunched towards the back, a style he’d seen grand ladies wearing when they went shopping in town. No woman he’d ever associated with wore clothes like that.
Her hair was done differently today, too, and she must have found time to wash it, because it was gleaming. Such a beautiful colour of hair, neither red nor brown, but with red-gold glints when the sun caught it. She had a dainty little hat perched on the top of the glorious mass of hair coiled at the back of her head. The hat was tilted slightly to the right, which gave it a bit of a cheeky look.
Her bodice was tight-fitting, pulled in at the waist, then the material flared out for about a hand’s width over the top of the skirt. It showed how full her breasts were and how small a waist she had, that bodice did. Why, he could almost span her waist with his hands, he was sure. If he dared touch her, that was.
There was a little frill of lace at the neck, white against her soft skin. He had an urge to touch both skin and lace.
How could he be going to marry someone so pretty and ladylike?
‘Well, Fergus Deagan, has the cat got your tongue?’ Ma asked sharply.
He jerked to attention, realising she was expecting him to compliment his bride. He tried to think what to say. ‘You, um, look lovely, Cara.’
Pa came forward, beaming at them. ‘What a handsome pair you two make!’
But Cara was looking at Fergus so anxiously, he guessed suddenly that she was even more nervous than he was and needed further reassurance. Only he couldn’t think of anything to say.
She hesitated then went to pick up little Niamh.
‘Here.’ Ma held something out to Fergus.
He took it. A wedding ring, a plain band of gold, very narrow. He looked at her in consternation. He should have thought of that.
‘It was my mother’s,’ she whispered. ‘It was the last thing I had to sell when we came to England, but we managed to keep it. Patrick knew how much it meant to me. You’d bought a ring for Eileen before I could tell you about this one, so I kept it. I’ve checked and it fits Cara as if it was made for her.’
‘Thanks, Ma.’
She smiled and turned to Cara. ‘I’ll carry the baby today.’
Before she took the infant, Ma gave him a poke to make him move forward. ‘Go on! Offer your arm to your bride.’
So he did, and felt Cara’s hand position itself on his arm as lightly as a little bird. On a sudden impulse, he put his free hand over hers, wanting to touch her. The hand quivered but she didn’t pull it away.
‘Well, let’s get going now,’ Ma prompted.
As the two of them led the family out into the street, Fergus whispered to Cara, ‘Are you sure about this? We’re not pushing you into something you don’t want?’
He watched her studying his face carefully. She was taller than Eileen, and moved more steadily, taking bigger steps, so it was easy for them to walk together, surprisingly pleasant, too.
‘Yes, I’m sure, Fergus. I have no one else who cares about me like your family does. I’m honoured to join it. It’s you who’ve been pushed into this.’
‘I don’t mind. It’ll make things easier for all of us.’
She looked disappointed, then her face went expressionless, but he’d seen that he’d upset her and cursed himself for sounding so offhand.
‘I’m no good at compliments and words,’ he blurted out in an attempt to mend things. ‘But you do look pretty today and – and I think we’ll be all right together.’
She gave him a sad half-smile at that. ‘I don’t want meaningless words, only the truth about everything. I’ll do my best to be a good wife.’
He nodded, able to respond to this statement of simple fact. ‘I’ll work hard for you and I’ll do my best to be a good husband.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘I may not be good at compliments, but I definitely won’t lie to you, Cara, because I’m not good at that, either.’
She nodded, one quick, firm nod, but that nod made him feel better, it seemed to say he’d been accepted by her, for all their differences.
Then he realised they were standing at the church entrance in a cold wind, staring at one another while Ma and Pa waited patiently behind them with the boys. He hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped walking, had been so intent on reassuring Cara. He led the way inside, realising that she was now holding more tightly to his arm, as if nervous.
No wonder. From the front of the church, the priest was scowling at them. Fergus drew himself up and scowled right back.
Everyone knew that Father Benedict didn’t approve of Catholics marrying non-Catholics, or of special licences. It was Ma who’d persuaded him to marry them, and he’d only agreed because she’d promised to see that any children were brought up Catholic. She’d told Fergus the priest had admitted grudgingly that he supposed it was better for the young couple to marry than to live in sin.
Young people! Fergus was coming up to thirty-two, ten years older than his bride. He didn’t feel young, he felt old and weary.
As for sin! Father Benedict was always going on about how sinful people always reaped the punishments they deserved. What sin had poor Eileen committed that she deserved to die so young, or poor Cara either, that a man could attack her and she be blamed for it?
He waited as the priest cleared his throat and began the ceremony abruptly. It passed in a blur as Fergus repeated words which didn’t lodge in his brain.
It seemed to him afterwards that the real vows had been the promises he and Cara had made to one another at the church door.
And he really would try hard to be a good husband.
But he didn’t feel like a husband in some ways. He hadn’t felt the need for a woman since Eileen died and he didn’t want Cara in that way, either. He still felt sometimes that he’d killed his wife, even though she’d been the one to push for another child.
He didn’t want to kill another woman and Cara was only twenty-two, wasn’t she? Very young, except she sometimes had a sad, older look to her when she was lost in thought.
Once they’d signed the register, Fergus took the marriage papers and folded them neatly, putting them in the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he offered his bride his arm.
‘Welcome to the family, Mrs Deagan,’ he said as they began to walk home.
That made her smile, a genuine look of pleasure this time. He liked making her smile.
He liked how she looked, too. He hadn’t expected that.
When they got home, Cara was surprised to see a cake sitting on the table and two big bottles of ginger beer, the sort made and sold to her neighbours by the widow in the corner house. Mrs Piper also took in lodgers employed at the railway works and had a dozen other small ways of turning a penny. She’d bought a few of their household items, and Ma had given her some of the stuff that wasn’t really saleable.
‘She’s a battler, that one,’ Ma had said. ‘A good woman.’
Cara had been watching how Mrs Piper managed, wondering how to get a start at earning a living once Niamh didn’t need her. Now she wouldn’t need to worry about that. She was a married woman. It was for her husband to be the breadwinner.
Unless anything happened to him. No, he was young still and healthy. Well, fairly young. Ten years older than her.
The two boys ran over to stare at the cake and exclaim at how delicious it looked.
‘Don’t touch it!’ Ma called, smiling at everyone’s surprise and delight. ‘I got Mrs Piper to collect the cake for me and she sold me the ginger beer. A wedding should be celebrated properly.’
The two boys, who’d been unusually quiet during the walks to and from church, went to stand beside their grandfather. But their eyes kept going to the cake, which was a large, expensive one, the sort that sat proudly in the cake-shop window, to be bought for special occasions by families with money to spare.
The family had never bought one before, but all the children in the neighbourhood had pressed their noses to the shop window and speculated about what such a cake might taste like.
Cara looked across the room and hid a smile as she saw Mal lick his lips.
She lost the desire to smile when Sean shot her a resentful glance and pulled his little brother further away from the cake.
Fergus muttered something and went across to speak quietly to his older son, who then switched his scowl to the floor between his feet.
The baby began to cry, a few soft wails which grew louder by the minute.
Mr Grady said gently, ‘From the sound of that young lady, she’s hungry again. You sit down and feed her, Cara. I won’t let these rascals eat all the cake.’
‘I’d better take off this dress first.’
‘No, don’t do that,’ Alana said. ‘You look so pretty in it. Besides, it buttons down the front so you’ll manage.’
Their frankness about the details of everyday life sometimes made Cara blush, but she was more used to her role now, so picked up the shawl and let Ma help her arrange it to cover herself modestly. While they were doing this, the men and boys looked everywhere but at Cara.
The baby was interested only in the milk and was now big enough to make loud sucking noises and knead Cara’s breast with her soft little hands, which made feeding her even more of a public event.
But she was such a little darling, Cara would have done anything for her. She still felt dreadfully sad at times about the loss of her own baby, but Niamh filled a gap in her heart, a need to love as well as a need to have a child to love her.