Liverpool Taffy (49 page)

‘Good girl,’ Stuart said, taking the tray from her. ‘You’re not such a bad kid after all, our Lizzie. Oh, hang your Mam’s coat on the airer, would you? And we’ll see you in the morning.’

Biddy and Dai stayed in Edinburgh, in the end, for the best part of a week.

Biddy said nothing to Lizzie as to what had passed between her parents that stormy night, but next day Stuart and Nellie seemed to be as loving as ever, and when Biddy, highly daring, asked ‘Is it all right?’ Nellie had nodded and smiled so blissfully that Biddy realised whatever had happened in the study the previous evening had probably strengthened the already strong relationship between the Gallaghers.

Dai, in the woodshed next morning chopping wood and hoping that poor little Nellie had not had a hard time, told Biddy that Stuart had simply come up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. Stuart’s eyes, he said, were full of tears. ‘My dear Dai, there’s no one I’d rather have for a stepson,’ he had said, his voice full of emotion. ‘My poor darling Nell – the lengths she went to, and just so that I wouldn’t be hurt when I’m not hurt in the slightest! I knew she was keeping something from me, you see, and I imagined … dreadful things. Now I know the truth I’m just delighted that you felt you could turn to us, even before you knew of your relationship with my dearest Nell.’

‘Give each other a hug, we did,’ Dai told Biddy that evening, when they had gone out into the snow to give the dogs a walk before bedtime. ‘Stuart’s not the feller to hold a grudge, so pleased he was that Nell’s secret wasn’t a bad one he would have forgive her anything. Loves her deeply, does Stu.’

And Elizabeth was, quite simply, ecstatic. ‘A brother! Well, all right, then, a half-brother,’ she said to Biddy as the two of them worked side by side in the kitchen. ‘And you as good as a sister to me, Biddy! It’s what I’ve always wanted, a brother or sister of me own, and now I’ve got both of you.’

‘I’ll be a sister-in-law, not a proper sister,’ Biddy reminded her, but Elizabeth just laughed and nudged her in the ribs.

‘Who cares about that? You don’t know what it’s like, Biddy, having a Mam and a Da but no real uncles or aunts, let alone no cousins near enough to visit. I’m so pleased … and Mam says we will come to your wedding, even if it is just as friends. She says Davy will just have to get used to seeing her because she’s going to enjoy Dai’s company whenever she can, to make up for all the years she lost.’

But Biddy and Dai could not stay for Christmas, despite all the Gallaghers’ urging.

‘I’ve written to my Da, told him we’ll go back there for the holiday,’ Dai said. ‘And Biddy’s on pins in case Ma Kettle turns Ellen off.… Best get back.’

So just over a week after Biddy had left the shop to go to Grimsby, the two of them walked back into it again.

Ma Kettle was behind the counter and to Biddy’s pleasure, greeted her like an old friend and demanded to be introduced to the young feller she’d heard so much about.

‘So you’re gerrin’ wed, eh?’ Ma Kettle said, nodding wisely. ‘That’s a good girl you got yourself, young man. You tek care of our Biddy or you’ll ’ave the Kettles to deal with.’

‘And … and how’s Ellen going on?’ Biddy asked rather nervously, but she need not have worried.

Ma Kettle beamed. ‘She’s a good girl,’ she said in a surprised but self-congratulatory tone. ‘Eh, the lad’s a bright ’un – puts me in mind o’ Kenny when my lad were small. An’ you teached that Ellen to boil a good, flavour-some batch o’ toffee, I’ll say that for the pair o’ ye … and them fancy fudges, wi’ nuts an’ cherries in, they’re goin’ down well wi’ Christmas comin’ on. Oh ah, we shan’t let young Ellen an’ Bobby leave in an ’urry.’

‘And how does she cope in the shop?’ Biddy asked. ‘Because she was in a very posh department store before Bobby was born.’

‘She’s a natural wi’ our customers, young an’ old, an’ the little lad’s a joy to the kids an’ the grans,’ Ma Kettle said simply. ‘What’s more, Kenny’s right taken wi’ the pair of ’em. Never did like ’elpin’ in the shop, our Kenny, but I’ve noticed ’e don’t mind doin’ a turn be’ind the counter when young Ellen’s ’ere. Course, I’m real sorry you’ve gorra leave, chuck,’ she added hastily. ‘But we’ll manage.’

Ellen didn’t have much chance of a private conversation, but she and Biddy exchanged a few words when Biddy nipped into the boiling kitchen for a minute, to find her friend, swathed in one of the huge white aprons, beating vanilla fudge.

‘It’s prime ’ere, Biddy, I’m ever so ’appy. Ma Kettle’s ever so nice to Bobby an’ that Kenny – I wish you’d brung ’im round to the flat years ago, our Biddy, ’stead of tellin’ me about ’im all wrong. ’E’s quite nice lookin’ when you get to know ’im.’

‘You’re two very nice people, you and Kenny, and I hope everything goes on well for all of you,’ Biddy said sincerely. ‘Ma Kettle’s not a bad old thing, you just have to know how to handle her – and it seems to me you’re doing pretty well.’

Ellen dimpled at her. She was clean as a new pin, her hair was its old bouncy self and she was neatly clad in a grey cotton dress under the toffee-smeared apron. ‘You aren’t doin’ too bad yourself! I like that Dai.’

‘You don’t know him! Did you see him just now, as I slipped through from the shop?’

‘Aye. An’ I listened at the door. He’s right for you, Bid, I wish you every ’appiness. After all what you’ve done for me an’ Bobby, you deserve it.’

‘Yes, Dai is … is special. We’re going away now to spend a few days with his people on Anglesey, but I’ll be in touch when we get back.’

‘Have a good time; they’ll love you, never fear,’ Ellen said generously. ‘I’ll explain to Kenny.’

‘Kenny’s grown up; he likes me, but that’s all,’ Biddy said serenely. ‘Goodbye for now, dear Ellen. Give Bobby a hug for me when he wakes.’

The train was too slow at first and Biddy fidgeted and bit her nails in an agony of mixed boredom and apprehension. Then it seemed they were nearly there and the train seemed suddenly much too fast.

‘It’s all right, they’ll love you,’ Dai kept assuring her, but Biddy wasn’t so sure.

‘Why should they? They don’t even know me, and anyway, your Da was cross with you when you last met,’ Biddy said uneasily. ‘They’ll probably think I’ve caught you, that I’m just after a husband.’

He grinned at her, then leaned across and nuzzled the side of her face. ‘Silly Biddy! Besides, you are just after a husband, be honest. Any man would do so long as he kept you out of Ma Kettle’s kitchen.’

Biddy shook her head at him. ‘Don’t try and make me laugh, I’m too scared to laugh. Oh, oh, we’ve arrived! I wish I’d never come!’

‘Arrived? We’ve miles to go yet. Come on, collect your traps and we’ll get down and find ourselves a taxi.’

Biddy had stared in the train, but now, in the taxi, she got as close to Dai as she could and clutched his hand with feverish fingers. It was all so chilly and grey, so totally unpeopled! She was used to city streets, crowded housing, and people everywhere, this austere island with its grey stone cottages and slate-roofed houses frightened her.

‘Are we nearly there?’ she kept asking in a very small whisper. ‘Is it far?’

They arrived. Down the hill they went and there was the sea on their right, a cold December sea but still more familiar to Biddy, reared by the Mersey, than was the gentle rolling Welsh countryside. The taxi was old and slow; it chugged over the grey stone bridge and Dai pointed out the foaming waterfall dashing down to the sea. They passed the beach, pale in the wintry twilight, and then turned left, away from the sea, the cottages and the pub, crowding close to the harbour, and began to climb a long hill.

‘It’s that house, the one with the ship’s lantern outside the door,’ Dai said. Biddy could tell from his tone that he was half-scared now, half so homesick for this place that even the memory of the quarrel between his father and himself could not make him hold back any longer. ‘Put us down here … but don’t go,’ he told the taxi driver, ‘we may need you presently to take us on.’

It was the first time he had acknowledged that he might still have to back down, leave Moelfre and go to Sîan and her husband Gareth in the next village.

When it stopped they climbed a little stiffly out of the taxi and walked up the garden path. Dai waited in the porch a moment, then knocked on the door. There was a light in the room, softly burning, and someone came slowly across to the door and opened it.

A very young woman stood there, fair hair tied back from a pink-and-white country face, eyes fixed on them.

‘Dai!’ And then a gabble of Welsh which Biddy did not understand. It sounded threatening, but was probably nothing of the sort really, Biddy realised. Then the girl was ushering them in, calling something … and a man came in from the back, a large brown towel in his hand, his face still streaked with water. He must have been washing himself when they knocked, Biddy realised.

‘Dai! Oh, Dai bach!’

The man was very like his son, so Biddy guessed that it was Davy and there seemed to be no ill-feeling here. The two embraced, then Dai turned and took her hand, pulling her forward.

‘There’s sorry I am to be so rude to you, cariad. Biddy, this is my Da, Davy Evans. And this is … is Menna, who is his wife now.’

‘Aye married several months since,’ Davy said. ‘Wanted you to come to the wedding, we did. I wrote – did you not receive it, mun?’

‘Not until long after the date – at sea we was, Da. But I’m here now.’ Dai glanced across at Menna. ‘Menna, Da, this is Bridget O’Shaughnessy; she and I …’

‘Nice to meet you, Miss O’Shaughnessy,’ Davy Evans said, giving Biddy a smile and offering a hand. Biddy shook his hand and smiled at Menna, then Davy turned back to his son. ‘Dai, I wanted to see you at my wedding, but there was more beside. Menna’s in the family way, truth to tell, and we was wantin’ you home because Menna’s Da isn’t so well, see? A stroke he have had, very poorly he’s been. So Mrs Owens wants us to take over the pub … only we could do no such thing whilst I had no one to take over here.’

‘Take over?’ Dai sounded dazed. ‘What are you trying to say, Da?’

‘If you’ll come home, mun, an’ take over here, look after the cows and sheep, go fishing, same’s you used, then Menna and me can go back and run the pub in Amlwch. Good money there is in a pub, and easier, when a man’s getting on in years, to stand behind a bar and smile and be mine host, rather than sweat in a boat and see to the sheep an’ cows.’

‘We’ll have to think about it, Da,’ Dai said. He sounded offhand, as though the thought of such a rural way of life was more amusing than practical. ‘We’re getting married, Biddy and me. We’ve not thought of coming back here, only to say hello to everyone, so you could meet Biddy and she could meet you.’

‘It’s a good old place,’ Davy said. He smiled at Biddy and she saw he had a tooth missing in front which gave him a piratical air. ‘Like living here you would, cariad … and fresh air and good food for the kiddies, when they come along. A good life and your man beside you, not off on a coaster eleven months out of the twelve.’

‘I’m trawling now, Dad … distant water,’ Dai said. ‘I don’t know, we’ll have to talk it over, eh, Biddy? But we’ve not eaten since noon; do I go down to the Crown, book a room?’

‘No indeed,’ Menna said. She looked uncertainly from father to son. ‘Spare rooms we do have, and a stew on the stove which can stretch like a piece of rubber for us all. I’ll just peel a potato or two … a cup of tea, Biddy, while you wait for the meal?’

Biddy smiled at the other girl.

‘I’ll come and make it with you,’ she volunteered. ‘It’ll give the men a chance to talk.’

Later, when they had eaten, Dai put his arm round Biddy and took her walking in the wintry night. There was no snow here – it rarely snowed on the island, Dai told her – but the stars overhead twinkled frostily and the wind off the sea lifted the hair from Biddy’s head and tossed it behind her like blown spume.

‘A quiet, rural life it is out here, Biddy, and I’m not so sure you’d take to it,’ Dai shouted against the wind as they fought their way to the clifftop. ‘There’s folk in the village and sheep and cows in plenty – rabbits, too, and birds – but it’s not what you’re used to at all. If you’d rather, I can keep on with the trawling, or I can join another coaster … I don’t want to make you unhappy.’

Biddy thought. She thought of the dreadful danger which he went into, jauntily, every time the
Bess
sailed. Could she stand it? The constant fear, the knowledge of his danger, the fact that a quarter of all those who sail the sea in search of the fish die of drowning? But he loved the excitement, the danger even, and the beauty of Arctic waters, she knew that.

If she asked him to do so he would join a coaster, which was far less dangerous, and she would see him between voyages. But his heart wasn’t in a dirty little vessel nosing along inshore waters, he would lose all his pride in himself, all his gaiety and courage.

And what of me? she thought next. Biddy O’Shaughnessy, who has lived in the great city of Liverpool all her life and who loves it, understands it? What would I do out here, with the sea and the birds and cows which scare me and sheep about which I know nothing? There are people, but they speak a language I don’t understand and live lives which are strange to me. Could I bear it?

But she knew she could, because she would have Dai beside her. He would go out in his fishing boat and she would worry, but he knew the waters, understood his small craft; she could come to terms with a worry like that. And he would be happy in a way she had probably never yet seen him, because he would be his own master in his own place, at last.

‘Biddy?’

She leaned closer to him, so that she could feel the warmth of his body against her even through her coat. She kissed his chin, which needed a shave, and then her mouth found his lips. For a moment they simply kissed, then she drew back with a little sigh. ‘Dai, wherever you are I shall be happiest. You’re right that I don’t know much and will be a burden to you, but if you please, let’s live here, where you were born.’

He gave a shout of triumph and lifted her in his arms, squeezing her until she was breathless. Then he stood her down and took her hand. His delight and relief shone out of him – but he would have given it all up had she wished it, gone uncomplaining back to the trawling, or onto a coastal trader.