Forget-Me-Not Child Read online

Page 10


  Angela had never owned such lovely things, and thanked Mary as they walked home. ‘You don’t get married every day of the week,’ Mary said. ‘And because we went to the Rag Market it wasn’t a big cost all together. You are getting married on a shoe-string, my girl, and it wasn’t what I wanted for neither of you, nor Matt either. We wanted more of a big splash.’

  ‘Oh I’m not interested in all that sort of razzmatazz,’ Angela maintained. ‘The important thing is that I am marrying someone I love and that’s Barry.’

  ‘It does my heart good to hear you say that because you truly are made for each other.’

  ‘I’m just glad that Daddy has come round about it now,’ Angela said. ‘It would have put a blight on the day if I was aware of his disapproval.’

  ‘I know,’ Mary said. ‘I think much of his testiness then was due to the pain he was in, he has admitted as much to me. But I didn’t know that and really went for him about the way he was when you announced how you felt about one another, which was no surprise to me and shouldn’t have been to Matt if he had eyes in his head. Mind, he did say it’s hard to think that just four months after two of our sons’ bodies are lying in the Atlantic Ocean we are going to be celebrating a wedding, almost as if their deaths were of no account. And yet his greatest wish in the world is to walk you up the aisle which will be the last act he will do for you.’

  Matt seldom walked far now, for the tumour had grown so big it made walking difficult and the way it was positioned made breathing difficult too. ‘D’you think he’ll manage it?’ Angela asked.

  Mary shrugged. ‘Who knows,’ she said. ‘I have the offer of the loan of a wheelchair and if he will agree to get into it to be pushed to the church, he has a chance but …’ and she spread her hands helplessly and added, ‘I think we’ll just have to wait and see how he is on the day.’

  ‘Yes,’ Angela said. ‘That’s all we can do.’

  Angela was such a beautiful bride it brought a lump to Mary’s throat. The two had gone up into the bedroom the morning of the wedding so Mary could help her dress. They had given themselves plenty of time because there was something special Mary had to give to Angela. But first there was the dress and no matter that it was loaned, she looked a treat and Mary told her so as she stood before the mirror, now hardly able to believe her reflection.

  Mary smiled at the look on her face as she said, ‘Now, you must have something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue.’

  ‘Well something new are all my fine underclothes and my shoes are new too,’ Angela said. ‘And I borrowed the dress and veil and I have the blue lace handkerchief George presented me with, but for something old …’

  ‘I have that,’ Mary said. ‘Something old and very beautiful and it belonged to your mother.’

  Angela gasped. ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s this,’ Mary said and she peeled off the tissue paper from the article in her hand and there in her palm lay a beautiful silver locket. ‘When your mother gave you into my care she said that if anything happened to her, then I must give you this on your wedding day, because she received it on hers, as it was a present from your father.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Angela said, slightly awed to be holding something that had once belonged to her mother. ‘Is there anything in it?’

  ‘Why don’t you look?’ Mary suggested, holding it out to her. ‘It belongs to you now.’

  Angela took it from Mary and pressed the catch and the locket opened. In one side was a miniature of the picture that stood on Mary’s sideboard that she said was a picture of Angela’s parents on their wedding day. She remembered as a child spending hours staring at the picture trying to remember something, anything about her real parents, but there wasn’t even a glimmer of memory there. But now she would carry them near her heart always for she vowed then and there she would never take it off.

  ‘That’s your hair,’ Mary said and in the other half of the locket there were three tiny, but absolutely perfect ringlets tied up with a red silk thread. Angela lifted them out gingerly. ‘Was my hair really like that?’

  ‘It was,’ Mary said. ‘Like a little doll you were. Connie always intended to have a photograph of all of you and a miniature from that for the other side of the locket, but that sort of thing is expensive and when you have a fine houseful of children there is always plenty to spend any spare money on.’

  Angela could well understand that but wished it had happened for she had no idea what her siblings had looked like. All she knew was that they were nothing like her because they had all taken after their dark-haired, brown-eyed father, so Matt told her, and she alone took after her golden-haired, blue-eyed mother.

  Angela thought of all the times when money must have been tight and she thought of the grinding poverty that had driven them to England in the first place. Though she couldn’t remember those austere times herself, Barry had told her how it had been for them and she was amazed that, due to a promise made to a friend, Mary had never felt tempted to try and sell the locket, or at the very least pawn it.

  So her gratitude was heartfelt. ‘Thank you, Mammy,’ Angela said. ‘Thank you for keeping it so safe, I will treasure it always.’

  The lump in Mary’s throat was back and to prevent the tears lurking behind her eyes trickling down her cheeks she said briskly, ‘Come, we must be away, for though it’s fashionable for a bride to be late, you can’t be so late that Barry thinks you’re not coming at all.’

  Angela gave a gurgle of laughter as she said confidently, ‘Barry would never think that.’ She hurried nevertheless and when they entered the room Matt was rendered speechless for a moment and then he said with awe, ‘Oh, my darling girl, you’re beautiful, so you are.’ He was immensely glad he had agreed to be pushed to the church in the wheelchair because it meant he might be able to walk the length of the church to the altar, to walk Angela down the aisle. This was terribly important to him for he couldn’t have loved her more if she had been his own and as her father he had to do this one last thing for her. He remembered how tickled pink he had been to have a wee girl in the family, when in the aftermath of the tragedy of losing an entire family he had known and liked so well he had realized Angela was theirs for keeps. She was so different to the boys and would love to climb onto his knee, wind her arms around his neck and kiss his leathery cheek. The boys had seldom done such a thing and it always gladdened his heart when Angela did it.

  It was only a short walk to St Catherine’s Church and a pleasant one that warm, sunny summer’s morning. It was far enough for Matt though, and Mary was well aware of that, and she padded the chair with cushions to make it more comfortable for him. As the wheels rumbled over the cobbles neighbours not going to the Nuptial Mass stood in the doorways and cheered them on their way.

  The priest was waiting for them in the porch and told them Barry and his best man Stan Bishop were already there. Angela had known Barry had spent the night with Stan so he wouldn’t catch sight of the dress, and Stan had assured Angela he would get the groom to the church well ahead of her, and he was a man of his word.

  In the porch Matt was eased out of his wheelchair and, biting his lip against the pain, he stood with his arm through Angela’s as the Wedding March began. Angela was aware that every step was agonizing for Matt and so their pace was slow down the aisle of that packed church. Barry slipped from the pew and stood before the altar with Stan and by the time Angela and Matt reached them, there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.

  Matt sank thankfully into the wheelchair Mary had brought for him. Angela stood beside her husband-to-be and threw back her veil. Barry looked at her and saw the radiance in her face and felt his heart miss a beat, and Angela felt her mouth was suddenly very dry and her own heart was hammering in her breast and she knew she loved Barry McClusky more than life itself, and she reached for his hand and squeezed it tight, for soon they would be as one, man and wife.

  The wedding had taken a great deal out of Matt
but there was no opportunity to rest once they reached home, for in their absence the neighbours had been busy and the house was decorated and the table was groaning with food, adding to the things Mary and Angela had prepared. The two-tiered cake was in the centre and Angela marvelled that people who had so little themselves would go to such lengths to make their day a special one.

  And it was so special. Even the weather was kind to them, which was a bonus for the previous few days had been unsettled. ‘Ah well,’ said Barry when she commented on this, ‘The sun shines on the righteous.’

  ‘Oh you, Barry McClusky,’ said Angela, giving him a push.

  ‘D’you see that, ma?’ Barry said in an appeal to his mother, though he had a great grin plastered to his face. ‘Not five minutes married and she’s abusing me already.’

  ‘Oh I saw it and I’d say she had reason,’ Mary said. ‘Sun shines on the righteous indeed.’

  The weather did make a difference though because they were able to spill onto the street from the cramped little back-to-back which couldn’t hold one quarter of all those who wanted to share in Angela and Barry’s special day.

  Later when everyone had gone home as it got dark, Mary said she was dropping with tiredness and so Barry helped his father to bed, and Mary followed suit, and Barry and Angela were alone for the first time, and Barry led Angela to the settee and sat beside her and said, ‘Hello Mrs McClusky.’

  ‘Hello Mr McClusky,’ Angela replied in like vein.

  Barry smiled and put his arm around her and kissed her lips and though the kiss was a chaste one, he felt the blood coursing round his body and heard his heart thumping against his ribs, and he knew he wanted to pick Angela up in his arms, carry her upstairs and ravish her, but he knew he would have to proceed a lot more slowly.

  He didn’t even know if Angela had any idea what went on in the marriage bed and he asked her gently. Immediately she felt a crimson flush flood her cheeks as she said almost in a whisper, ‘I know a little bit Mammy told me. I know about coming together to make a baby. She said it may hurt.’

  Barry nodded. ‘The first time it may hurt a little, but I’ll try to hurt you as little as possible. We’ll go up now and I may do things you might think are wrong, but they’re not, not now we’re married.’

  Angela was looking at Barry with large, apprehensive eyes and he laughed gently. ‘Don’t look at me like that. You trust me don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do, Barry.’

  ‘Come on then,’ Barry said, getting to his feet and pulling Angela up next to him and hand in hand they climbed the stairs. They elected to sleep in the attic as they both agreed the bedroom would be more comfortable for Matt and Mary at the moment.

  It was a novel experience for Angela because she had never slept in the attic and she had slept in the corner of the bedroom with Mary and Matt, which Mary had curtained off as she grew, for privacy.

  Barry was no stranger to the attic and he led his young wife across the oilcloth laid on the floor to the double bed Mary had insisted on buying for them, and he laid her down and began to slowly undress her until she lay naked, shivering and slightly embarrassed. She reached for the silken nightgown she’d laid ready, but Barry took it from her. ‘You have no need of this, my love,’ he said, as he threw off his own clothes, snuffed out the lamp and got in beside her, ‘I will warm you. Lie back now and let me love you properly.’

  And Angela did just that and was glad Barry had warned her, because his hands were all over her body stroking and caressing her most intimate parts. Even worse was the fact that she was enjoying it too. She wanted him to go on and on and when a little moan burst from her it was too dark for her to see the small smile of satisfaction that flitted across Barry’s face, for he knew he was awakening her sexuality. Angela had an ache inside that she didn’t fully understand and when she pleaded, ‘Barry, please …’ she didn’t really know what she was asking for.

  And then Barry entered her and there was one short, sharp pain but that was followed by waves and waves of exquisite joy that flowed all through her. And when it was over and she lay spent, she thought, so that’s sex. The one thing you must stay away from until you are married and no one ever even hinted that it could be so enjoyable. ‘Are you all right?’ Barry asked, a little concerned by the silence. ‘Did I hurt you?’

  ‘Oh no, my darling you didn’t hurt me at all,’ Angela said. ‘You loved me properly, that was all, and it was the greatest thing I have ever experienced and oh, Barry McClusky, I love you more than life itself.’

  ‘And I love you too my darling girl and let’s hope we have years ahead of us when I can show you just how much.’

  NINE

  The following morning, the glowing look on Angela’s face told Mary that whatever happened in the marriage bed the previous night had pleased her and she was relieved. She hadn’t been able to discuss such things with Barry, for it would have just embarrassed the pair of them, but she had hoped he would go slowly as Angela was so young and quite naive about sexual matters. Maybe he had worked that out for himself though! He seemed delighted as he walked to Mass that morning holding his wife’s hand, a wide grin plastered to his face.

  They were congratulated by many both before and after Mass that morning, especially by Angela’s friend Maggie that she didn’t see so much of now they were both working except for meeting after Mass. Maggie threw her arms around her friend and then Barry and wished them many many congratulations. Others were lining up to shake Barry by the hand and hug Angela and some even kissing her on the cheek, causing the familiar crimson flush to flow over her face.

  The wedding had taken it out of Matt and anxiety about him was draining Mary and yet she urged Barry and Angela to enjoy the lovely summer’s day. ‘Soon you will both be back at work,’ she said. ‘So make use of the time you have together. Looks like the sun is still continuing to shine on the righteous, as Barry maintains.’

  Despite her words though, Angela saw the lines of strain pulling Mary’s mouth down and she said firmly, ‘We will take a walk out this afternoon after I have eaten the dinner I will help prepare and I am quite determined on that.’ Mary didn’t argue as she well might have and protest she was all right and would manage fine, and Angela knew she would be glad of her help though she’d probably never admit it, so the women worked amicably together as they had done many times before and Barry sat beside his father and read snippets out of the paper to him.

  So it was much later as Angela and Barry walked through Cannon Hill Park that Angela said, ‘Do you think we should have let your father go to the wedding?’

  ‘Doubt we could have stopped him,’ Barry said. ‘He wanted to go so much he agreed to be pushed in a wheelchair, that’s how important it was, the prerogative of all fathers to walk their daughters down the aisle and to all intents and purposes he is your father. He’d have probably felt a complete failure if he hadn’t been able to do that.’

  ‘But he’s ill,’ Angela cried. ‘I mean he has gone downhill so fast, overnight, for he was a different man yesterday.’

  ‘He was putting on an act yesterday,’ Barry said. ‘It was our wedding day and he wanted nothing to spoil it.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Angela said, and added, ‘Your mother has seen the deterioration in him and she’s worried. She told me that though he says nothing she knows the pain’s worse and she’s going to get the doctor tomorrow.’

  ‘Mammy does right calling in the doctor,’ Barry said, ‘for he said he’d keep Daddy pain free as long as possible and it is all they can do for him now. And that’s really the point,’ he said to Angela. ‘We have to face the fact that my father and your foster father is dying. He has a few months at best and we cannot change that in any way. Now if I was the one dying …’

  ‘Oh don’t …’

  Barry smiled at Angela’s horror-struck face and said, ‘Just imagine if I was, I’d rather be let do things I wanted to do even if it shortened that life, because if you lay in bed and did no
thing you would still die anyway.’

  They began to make their way back and Angela was assimilating Barry’s words when he put in, ‘You know if you were to ask Daddy now, I bet even though he feels rough today, he won’t regret what he did yesterday. And it wasn’t just walking you up the aisle, though that was a big thing for him to do, but added to that was the party that followed the wedding that meant he didn’t get any rest at all.’

  ‘He seemed to enjoy that,’ Angela said. ‘Everyone was so pleased to see him.’

  ‘Yes, they were and he did,’ Barry said. ‘So if he pays for it now then he does. But the doctor should be able to make his life a little more comfortable.’

  The doctor did come the following day and upped Matt’s morphine and it eased the pain, but made him drowsier. But Mary wouldn’t let Barry and Angela waste their holiday sitting with him now when he slept so much of the time.

  Barry still hesitated and Mary gave him a little push. ‘Go on,’ she urged. ‘I will be fine, honestly … You just go on and enjoy yourselves while you have the chance.’

  They hadn’t any money but the weather was kind to them and Angela didn’t care where they went as long as they were together, for she was loving Barry more with every passing hour. They could only go where they could walk to and thinking it was no good going to the town looking at things they couldn’t afford to buy, they went the other way. Calthorpe Park was a favourite of hers anyway and they walked beneath the avenue of trees still in full leaf though there were a few leaves already littering the ground. She said, ‘On a warm day like this it’s had to think of these trees stripped bare in the winter.’

  ‘It’s hard to think of winter at all,’ Barry said. ‘I don’t know who does like the dark and the cold and the leaden skies, so let’s not think about things to come but enjoy this glorious day, which is ours to share and I am here with the most beautiful woman in the world, my wife.’ The words and the way he looked at her as he said them caused Angela’s stomach to give a lurch and her heart to begin hammering in her breast, and so when Barry drew her into the shadow of some nearby trees and kissed her, she melted into his arms and responded eagerly. They could have easily gone further for they both wanted to, but they controlled themselves with difficulty and Barry knew he had got himself a treasure, a woman he loved who enjoyed sex as much as he did.