Gracie (4 page)

‘All in good time, Gracie, all in good time.’ Fred McCabe interrupted her quickly. ‘Your mother’s inside but your sisters are both out gallivanting, what with it being the weekend. You are coming in, aren’t you? Not just passing by?’

‘If you want me to … if Mum won’t mind. I want to talk to you.’

‘When we get inside. Mustn’t leave your mother out, eh?’ Fred smiled at his eldest daughter and patted her shoulder affectionately.

‘It’s nice round here, all peaceful and homely,’ Gracie said, putting off the moment she would have to face her mother once again. She looked around at the small, neat estate of pre-fabricated bungalows that had been erected just after the war to house many of the local residents who had been bombed out of their own homes. The small properties were all identical in design and colour but most showed their inhabitants’ identity via the lace curtains at the windows and flowers in the postage stamp-sized front gardens.

‘It’s really handy for everything,’ Gracie continued. ‘Blimey, you’ve got the buses on the doorstep and shops round the corner; and the airport within spitting distance for you.’

‘We were lucky to get housed here, what with me working at the airport. Now I walk over the road and there I am. I can even pop home for lunch if the mood takes me, and the pub is just down the road for when I need it.’

He laughed and Gracie joined in conspiratorially, even though she knew her father had never touched a drop of alcohol in his life. His only vice was the familiar old brown pipe that was either clamped between his teeth or in his hand being emptied and refilled almost ritualistically. At night it was always placed upside down in the large chipped glass ashtray that lived on the draining board. Gracie wondered nostalgically if it was still there in the new place or if her mother had succeeded in banishing it outside.

‘And I have a shed! It’s not big enough to turn round in but I’ve always wanted one,’ her dad said, grinning.

‘That’s good, Dad. You deserve it.’

‘I don’t know about deserve it but it’s nice to have my own little hidey-hole after a lifetime of living with all you girls,’ he laughed.

‘How are the twins?’ Gracie asked. ‘I saw Jenny some time back – I bumped into her in the high street. She looked really nice but she was as shy as ever, chalk and cheese that pair,’ she added, referring to the twin sisters who were four years her junior.

‘Jenny said she saw you, that you were doing well at that hotel with your friend. I was pleased to hear it. We’ll soon be on our own here; the twins are both engaged and planning a double wedding in a couple of years time. That should save me a few bob, two for the price of one. They both seem like nice lads …’

‘Oh, Jenny never said a word about it to me …’ Gracie smiled sadly. ‘I suppose I’m not invited then. Me being the black sheep and all.’

Her father put his arm around her waist and gently edged her to the front door, which was ajar. ‘Now, that’s not like you to be self-pitying. You’re jumping to conclusions again, they haven’t even set the date yet! And to be fair, we’ve lived here for nigh on eighteen months now and you haven’t come to visit us.’

‘I know. I really do know, and I’m sorry but …’ Gracie began.

‘Come on,’ Fred McCabe said quietly. ‘Let’s go inside and break the ice.’ He put his head inside the door and called out. ‘Dot? Are you there, Dot? We’ve got a visitor …’

Pushing the door right back he slipped his muddy boots off, hung his coat on the hook on the back of the door and stood back to let his daughter pass. Following his nudge, she turned through into the neat sitting room, at the same time as her mother appeared in the doorway opposite that led through to the kitchenette. Both women stopped in their tracks on different sides of the room.

Rather than meet her mother’s eye immediately, Gracie scanned the room.

There was very little there that was familiar to her, apart from a couple of ornaments on the shelf over the gas fire, the large wooden mantle-clock that had belonged to her grandparents, and the lace tray-cloth that had pride of place on the sideboard. The furniture was noticeably second-hand but it was in good condition and the room was immaculately clean and tidy. However, it was as if she was in a stranger’s home, and Gracie felt a wave of sadness engulf her.

There was no disputing that Dot McCabe was Gracie’s mother. Both were tall and slender with brown hair, matching brown eyes, full lips and obvious cheekbones, but whereas Gracie was a naturally happy soul with a ready smile, her mother definitely wasn’t. It showed in the frown lines etched across her forehead and around her permanently downturned mouth.

She was dressed in top-to-toe dark grey with a faded navy blue apron tied around her waist and lisle stockings rolled down to her ankles. Dot McCabe’s whole persona shouted misery and Gracie could feel it sucking her in from across the room.

‘Well, well … Look what the cat’s dragged in, the prodigal daughter …’ her mother said, without changing her expression.

Although she forced a smile Gracie could feel the familiar griping ache in the pit of her stomach. Despite her hoping otherwise, nothing had changed.

‘Nice to see you too, Mum …’ Gracie said as she stared at her mother, her expression neutral. ‘I like the new place, real cosy isn’t it? And so convenient for Dad’s work.’

‘Is that why you’re here? To have a good nosey round?’ Dot held her arm out and waved it around with a flourish. ‘Well, this it. Not quite a flashy big seafront hotel but we make do. Beggars can’t be choosers.’

‘The hotel’s not big and it’s not flashy, and I think this is really nice. It must have been a relief to get out of the Westcliff flat …’

‘You didn’t have to put up with it as long as we did, you left us to get on with it …’ the woman said angrily.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Fred interrupted, trying to break the tension. ‘You two sit down and have a natter.’

Dot McCabe glared at her husband. ‘About what? About why our own daughter can’t be bothered to visit her family? About how she thinks we’re beneath her now she’s got hoity-toity friends? What else?’

‘About anything, Dot. You and Gracie could just catch up on all your news now she’s here at last. Family is family,’ he smiled.

‘Gracie doesn’t think she is any more’.

‘Actually I wanted to talk to both of you together …’ Gracie forced herself to stay calm and looked from one to the other. ‘Please? It won’t take long and then we can have tea.’

As she held her hands out to try and appeal to her mother, Dot reached forward and pointed.

‘What’s this?’

‘It’s an engagement ring, that’s what I want to talk to you about. I’m getting married. His name is Sean Donnelly.’ Gracie smiled and kept her voice calm; she knew she had to somehow get her mother on side.

‘Oh congratulations, Gracie, that’s good news! Tell us about the lucky young man,’ her father said quickly, as if to pre-empt his wife’s response.

‘When’s this happening?’ Dot asked.

‘We haven’t set a date yet, we only got engaged on New Years’ Eve. I’ve known him a long time – we used to work together at the Palace before I went to Thamesview.’ Gracie started talking faster and faster in a bid to deflect her mother. ‘He’s a chef – well, he’s an assistant chef but sometimes he gets to be in charge. It’s a good job and he earns well, he works strange and long hours but that’s the nature of the business for both of us. We both work hard.’

‘We’re pleased for you, Gracie, you deserve a nice young man and I hope he deserves you,’ her father smiled again. ‘Tell us some more about him …’

Fred was doing his best to stop the conversation getting contentious and Gracie was grateful to him for it but like King Canute trying to hold back the water, he didn’t stand a chance of success; despite her telling them all about Sean she could see her mother was just itching for her chance to have another go.

‘Does he know about you?’ Her mother interrupted sharply, unable to hold it in any longer.

‘I told you, we’ve known each other for a long time, so he knows me really well. We were friends for years before we got serious …’ Gracie deliberately misinterpreted what she knew her mother was asking.

‘You know what I mean,’ Dot snapped. ‘Does he know about the baby?’

‘Well, of course he doesn’t,’ Gracie laughed sarcastically. ‘Why would I tell him that? It was such a long time ago. It’s all done and dusted, old news, my baby son – despatched and forgotten, the way you always wanted it.’

‘Not for us it’s not forgotten. Such a shameful time for us all, but I’m pleased you realise at last how shameful it is. You must do or you would have told him …’

‘Yes, okay,’ Gracie interrupted to stem the flow of remonstrations, ‘but it’s history now, you got your way and it’s over. If I could change it all I would but I can’t, I can’t go back in time and not be so bloody stupid. I can’t go back and get my baby back either so no one won, did they? Oh, apart from the chosen couple who bloody well got to have him …’

‘We know all that, Gracie, and I know it upsets you,’ her father said, ‘but don’t swear. We don’t like it.’

‘Sorry Dad, but she’s enough to make a saint swear sometimes,’ Gracie said, almost petulantly. ‘Anyway I’m here because Sean wants to meet you, to make it formal. I’d like to bring him round but I have to know you won’t say anything to him …’

Her mother smiled slightly and shook her head. ‘Ah, so that’s why we’re being graced with a visit. Now you want us to save your skin. I knew there had to be a reason …’

‘I just don’t want you to say anything about it. It’s history – we’ve all got on with our lives since then. You’re here and settled, and I’m happy with my life and I don’t want anything to spoil it.’

‘So you think I’d do that, do you? You really think I’d broadcast something like that to all and sundry? That I’d tell anyone about it?’ Gracie was surprised to see her mother looking hurt, as if she was really shocked that her daughter could think something like that.

‘I don’t know, Mum – you don’t like me very much, do you?’ Gracie said with sad resignation.

Dot McCabe looked directly at her daughter and stared her down for a few seconds, before turning away without answering. Gracie then looked at her father and sniffed loudly, a gesture full of unspoken meaning.

‘I’ll make the tea,’ her father said as he backed towards the kitchen door.

‘Oh no you don’t, Freddie, you stay right here! I can’t believe our own daughter thinks that way about us. Tell her, tell her she’s being cruel and ungrateful …’

Fred McCabe frowned and thought for a few moments before answering. Gracie could see he was stuck in the middle, where he had always hated to be, and was racking his brains for a way to keep the peace.

‘Your mother’s right, Gracie, that’s just nonsense. Why would we say anything out of place to your fiancé? To anyone for that matter? Why would we want it all out in the open now? You bring him round and we’ll all be nice as pie and twice as sweet …’ he laughed and turned to his wife. ‘We’ll welcome him and you. We want to meet him if he’s going to be our son-in-law.’

Still standing on the far side of the small sitting room, her back right up against the wall and her feet together, Gracie’s mother folded her arms tightly and protectively across her chest.

‘Providing you’re not expecting us to cough up towards the wedding. We’ve got the twins’ wedding to save for, we can’t take on any more expense; not that you’d be interested, but we’re strapped enough as it is.’

Gracie smiled slightly and shook her head; she was determined to stay calm. She had to somehow get her mother on her side, and if that meant not saying what she was thinking, then that was what she would do.

‘Of course not. Me and Sean are doing it ourselves. It’s not going to be a big knees-up wedding and reception or anything, just a quiet ceremony at St George’s and a small reception at the hotel. Ruby’s organising it as a wedding present …’

‘She would be, wouldn’t she? That Ruby has always been more important to you than your own family.’ Dot paused for a second and then suddenly opened her eyes wide and stared at her daughter closely. ‘You’re not in the family way again, are you?’

Gracie shook her head. ‘No, I’m not – and if I was then I wouldn’t tell you, not after last time. This time it’s all going to be done by the book.’

‘Oh stop it, you stupid girl!’ her mother snapped. ‘Last time you were little more than a child yourself, with no man to marry you. We did what was best for you – which is more than can be said for soldier boy, who disappeared off, never to be seen again …’

‘No Mum, you did what was best for
you
,’ Gracie said calmly. ‘Anything rather than have the neighbours know. That baby was my first-born, he was your grandson, your first grandchild but you gave him away to strangers …’

‘It was for the best as we saw it at the time, best for everyone, but especially for you,’ her father interrupted. ‘You can’t blame us for what we did. We thought it was right then and, if I’m honest, I still think it was right, but I think it’s also time to stop talking about it. Both of you. It can’t be changed, so there’s no point in going over it again and again.’

Gracie shrugged and looked into the middle distance. He was right. The same ground had been covered each time she and her mother had been face to face until eventually Gracie had stopped visiting and the rift had widened. But now she needed to know that all would be well when she and Sean went to see them to announce the engagement formally.

‘Okay, I’d love to put it behind us,’ Gracie said. ‘But can you just promise me you won’t mention anything in front of Sean when I bring him round? I really want this to work with him – he’s a nice young man and I want to be married and have a baby that I can keep, I really do …’

‘We won’t say anything but, be warned, secrets always come out and then it’ll end in tears.’ Her father shook his head and waved a finger at Gracie, the way he used to when she was a child. ‘Your mother and I won’t say a word – today is the last time it will ever be mentioned, but you should think about telling your young man yourself. It’s not a good idea to start your married life with secrets,’ he said wisely.