Daughter of Mine (47 page)

‘Oh Scott!’

‘You’re not crying?’

Lizzie gave a sniff and dashed the tears from her eyes with her fingers. ‘Only a little,’ she said. ‘I can’t find the words to tell you what all this means.’

‘It had to come by ship, so that is why you’ve had to wait a while,’ Scott said, and Lizzie was overcome by Scott’s thoughtfulness, his kindness, and when he swept her into his arms she went without a moment’s hesitation. For the first time their lips met and Lizzie felt an explosion inside her and knew that the things both were hesitant to talk about had been decided by that kiss.

Scott led Lizzie to the sofa and, sitting beside her, picked up one of her hands. ‘We need to do some straight talking, Lizzie,’ he said, ‘because I know that you’re the woman I have waited all my life to meet. I love you with every part of me. There isn’t a way I could ever hope to show you how much I love you. I’ve known this since the first time I met you, I think, though those first few visits were tinged with guilt. I know for years you thought I was dead, lost to you, and I don’t expect you to feel as deeply as I do, but have you any feelings for me at all?’

‘Oh Scott,’ Lizzie said. ‘You don’t know how I’ve longed for you to say something like this. I thought I’d misinterpreted the way you looked at me sometimes.’

‘You mean there is hope for me?’

‘More than just hope,’ Lizzie told him. ‘I too have never loved anyone before.’

‘Not your husband?’

‘No,’ Lizzie admitted. ‘He knew, I think, that I didn’t. I married him because it was easier than trying to find a future on my own. Britain was a strange place then, and millions were out of work. I’d lost my job through illness, and my place to live too, because I worked in
a hotel. Steve offered me marriage, begged me to marry him, and it was easier to agree than try and figure things out myself. But never before have I felt this fluttering in my heart that I get when I look at you. I want you to put your arms around me and hold me tight, and I want you to kiss me properly.’

‘Oh God, Lizzie,’ Scott said. ‘You shall have all that, my darling. You’ll have everything you want, but there are serious implications too. Tell me truthfully how you feel about the colour of my skin?’

Lizzie looked at this honourable and considerate man, his love for her reflected in those deep, dark eyes, and she said, ‘You deserve honesty. When you appeared in my life and told me about your brother, I was devastated and, yes, embarrassed to be seen with you, embarrassed to walk the streets. But I see that as stupidity on my part and ignorance on the part of anyone else who views it differently. Now, I’d be proud to be seen with you.’

‘Would you consider marrying me?’ Scott asked. ‘Please think carefully before you answer. All in all, we’ve known each other such a small amount of time, and marriage will mean us all living in America. And there’s something else: I am not a Catholic.’

‘I know that.’

‘And I’ll not turn,’ Scott said. ‘However, I’ll not stop you practising your religion, nor any children we might have.’

‘Scott, I want to marry you,’ Lizzie said. ‘I always understood that when a woman married a man she went with that man to the ends of the earth if necessary. The religion bit is difficult because, if I’m to be
married in the eyes of God, it must be done in a Catholic Church, and they do not like mixed marriages. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. As for not knowing each other long, well, we’re not a couple of teenagers who don’t know our minds, are we? I have never felt this way before and I don’t expect to ever feel this way again.’

‘You don’t know how happy you have made me,’ Scott told her. ‘I feel ten feet tall; I feel like telling everyone, shouting it from the rooftops, but I’ll content myself by asking you if you will accept this and do me the honour of wearing it? I see you have no engagement ring.’

Lizzie had been given an engagement ring by Steve. As he’d boasted the night Tressa got engaged, the night she’d told him it was over, his ring for Lizzie was larger, more lavish, and, she guessed, far more expensive than the one Mike had bought, and Lizzie had never liked it. To her it was like Steve was showing off, showing the world how much he loved his wife. She would have appreciated Steve’s company more, cuddling her before the fire, listening to the wireless, or just talking, or risking Flo’s wrath, or going to the pictures, or taking in a show now and again, and not to have to share her husband with prostitutes.

She’d taken the engagement ring off and put it in her case the day the priest took her to the convent, and had never worn it again. She intended giving it to Niamh when she was older, but the one Scott presented her with was exquisite. The centre was a sparkling blue sapphire, surrounded by diamonds that twinkled in the lights, and she slipped it on her finger and kissed Scott
on the lips. ‘I’ll be proud to wear it,’ she said.

She felt incredibly lucky to have another chance like this. And yet she knew there were problems and possible heartache ahead. She didn’t know how the children would take to Scott as a father figure, and more particularly whether they would view moving to America as an opportunity or something to dread.

But when Scott kissed her, all her apprehensions fled, and when he gently teased her lips open she groaned with longing, and how she wanted to take this further. But she knew that any minute the children would be in from school and she pulled away with difficulty. ‘The children will be here soon,’ she said in explanation. ‘Can you help me put all this food away, and then…then I will cook a meal fit for a king. A meal to celebrate the fact that you have made me the happiest woman on God’s earth.’

Niamh noticed the ring straight away, as Lizzie knew she would. Scott had gone out for a walk so that Lizzie could talk to the children alone. ‘If I’m here they might feel constrained and not be totally honest about how they really feel, and after all it is a lot for them to contend with.’ It was just another sign of his thoughtfulness that Lizzie so loved him for, so she sat with the children and told them all of their plans to marry. ‘Scott will be your new daddy,’ Lizzie told them. ‘Will you mind that?’

Niamh considered this and eventually said, ‘No, I don’t think so, Mammy, Scott’s all right. I suppose we’ll have to live in America too?’

‘Will you mind that?’

‘No,’ Niamh said. ‘I’d quite like that.’

‘Tom?’

‘Scott’s better than all right,’ Tom grinned. ‘He’s great, but if we have to live in America then he’d better start teaching me baseball. I don’t want to go over to America and be called dumb cos I don’t know the rules.’

‘You’re dumb anyway,’ Niamh said. ‘Will you shut
up about sport. We’re talking about Scott.’

‘Well so am I, stupid.’

‘Children!’ Lizzie admonished. ‘Stop arguing. Goodness, I’m not sure Scott will want to adopt you if you go on like this.’

‘Adopt us?’

‘To be your daddy, yes.’

‘Right,’ Niamh said.

‘What is it, Niamh?’

‘You’ll wear his ring then,’ Niamh said slowly, ‘like, Scott’s engagement ring now?’

‘Aye.’

‘What about the rings Daddy gave you?’

‘They’re still precious to me, Niamh,’ Lizzie said gently. ‘But, you see, I can’t wear them when I’m married to Scott. I thought to give them to you when you’re sixteen. Would you like that?’

‘Ooh, Mammy, yes. Yes I would.’

‘That’s settled then.’

‘Can I have our Dad’s watch then?’ Tom asked.

Lizzie remembered when Tom was sitting on Steve’s knee he would always put the watch to his ear to hear the loud tick. Because Steve had been killed cleanly by a sniper’s bullet, the watch on his wrist had been intact and returned with his effects. So she was able to say, ‘Of course you can.’

‘What can I have?’ Georgia asked.

‘Nothing,’ Niamh said. ‘He wasn’t your daddy.’

‘That’s not fair.’

‘Yes it is. You’ve still got your daddy.’

‘Well then,’ Georgia said mutinously, ‘I’m not going to any America.’

‘You’ve got no choice,’ Tom taunted her. ‘You’re just a baby.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Oh yes you are’.

Lizzie scooped Georgia up just before her booted foot struck Tom on the shin. ‘Stop it,’ she said. ‘And you stop teasing, Tom. God, you wear me out. Maybe I’ll go to America and leave the lot of you behind.’

Lizzie was sorry she’d said that when she saw the look on Tom and Niamh’s faces. They remembered a time when their mother hadn’t been there. But it did ensure that for the rest of the evening they behaved like angels.

When Celia came home and was told, she too admired the ring and extended the warmest congratulations to them both, for Scott had returned from his walk. The sumptuous meal was followed by peaches with condensed milk dribbled over them, while Niamh and Tom plied Scott with questions about life in America.

‘Why don’t you two go out tonight?’ Celia suggested to Lizzie as they washed the dishes while Scott tucked Georgia into bed. ‘Sort of celebrate. You know I wouldn’t mind seeing to the children.’

‘You don’t have to look after me,’ Niamh protested. ‘I can see to myself.’

‘And me,’ said Tom, and Celia was grateful Georgia was in bed as she would undoubtedly have chimed in too. ‘Aye, well,’ she said, ‘I’m here anyway, so why don’t you take advantage of it?’

Scott, coming into the room at that moment, said, ‘We could go to the pictures if you’d like to.
Brief
Encounter
is showing at the Gaumont in the city centre.’

‘How d’you know?’

‘It’s not far from the hotel where I’m staying,’ Scott said, ‘and I saw it when I took a walk out the other evening. I went to see the bomb damage. The city centre sure took a pounding.’

‘Aye, it did,’ Lizzie agreed. ‘There were times I thought it might all be razed to the ground.’

‘Well, would you like to see
Brief Encounter
?’

‘I wouldn’t mind.’

‘Well get a move on then,’ Celia said, and Lizzie made a face at her before opening the door to the stairs, but her insides were jumping with excitement. She was determined to make herself look good for this man of hers, and to wear a pair of the nylon stockings she’d received that day.

‘D’you think it’s all right, Celia, Mammy getting married and all?’ Niamh asked when Scott and Lizzie had gone.

‘Why not?’ Celia said. ‘Your daddy has been dead for years, and whatever your mammy does now she can’t change that. But she’s still young.’

‘She isn’t,’ Niamh protested. ‘She’s over thirty.’

Celia laughed. ‘Believe me, Niamh, thirty isn’t old. When you’re thirty yourself, you’ll know this.’

But thirty seemed an impossible age to a twelve-year-old and Niamh still looked doubtful as Celia went on, ‘Your mammy needs to begin to live a little, have a bit of fun in her life, and you do like Scott, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, he’s all right.’

‘He’s a mean footballer,’ Tom said. ‘And he’s going to teach me to play baseball.’

Niamh gave him a withering look. ‘We’re talking about important things.’

‘So am I,’ Tom said. ‘Tell you what, though, I can’t wait to go to America. It sounds terrific.’

Niamh had to agree with her brother about that, for Scott had gone out of his way to paint an exciting picture of the future awaiting them on the other side of the ocean. ‘Yeah,’ she said, hugging her knees with delight, ‘I can’t wait either.’

Later, after the children had gone to bed, Celia sat down in the room and tried to lift the depression she’d felt settle all around her and be happy for Lizzie. Hadn’t she suffered enough, and shouldn’t she have another stab at happiness? What sort of friend was she? All right, she knew Lizzie leaving and taking Georgia with her would leave a large, gaping hole in her own life, but she also knew she’d never tell her that, or admit how lonely she would feel.

Scott and Lizzie held hands all the way home, and when they got to the entry Scott turned Lizzie round. The look in his eyes turned Lizzie’s insides to water and she leant against him with a moan of desire. The kiss was as tender as it was mind-blowing and Lizzie wanted more. Scott unbuttoned her coat and slid his hands over her body, but outside her clothes, and though Lizzie wanted him to go further she didn’t press him. There was time enough. They would know each other’s bodies intimately in the end, but they could
wait and then their fulfilment would be all the more wondrous.

Violet was thrilled for Lizzie, though she knew she’d miss her sorely. ‘It’s not that I begrudge her, like,’ she said to Celia, ‘and it’s not that I don’t think she don’t deserve some good luck, the poor sod, but Christ I’m going to miss her.’

Celia nodded. ‘I feel exactly the same,’ she said.

‘What you going to do?’

Celia shrugged. ‘I haven’t really thought.’

‘You can always bide here, you know,’ Violet said. ‘I got an attic room that will be going spare in a few months when our Carol marries, and she won’t mind sharing with you for a bit.’

‘Thanks, Violet,’ Celia said. ‘Lizzie asked me if I wanted to go to America with them, but you know I’ve never had a yen to see the place.’

‘Nor me neither,’ Violet said. ‘Nasty horrible place, full of gangsters if the films are to be believed. Give me good old England any time, and that offer to stay here stands till I hear otherwise.’

Scott thought Lizzie deserved a proper courtship, and after that first time they went once to a variety show and a couple of times to the cinema and a fair few times out for dinner. Sometimes, just being near Scott made Lizzie’s whole body tingle for his touch. She ached for the feel of his hands on her and longed for him to kiss her properly, and she knew no man had ever truly touched her heart before.

And yet sometimes she was beset with doubts for
all she was leaving behind: not the place, but the people. How could she just abandon Celia after all they had gone through? And what about Violet and all the others down the yard who’d always been on her side, and Tressa and her family in Ireland that she might never see again.

And then she’d see Scott, and he’d smile at her or catch her around the waist, or kiss her, and her doubts would vanish, for she knew if she didn’t have this man her life would have no meaning.

Scott insisted they do the job properly. Father Connolly disapproved strongly of mixed marriages and so Lizzie asked the kindly Father Peters, the curate, to see them. He too disapproved, for the church dictated he had to, but he conceded that there were more mixed marriages now than before the war. ‘You weren’t thinking of taking instruction to be a Catholic,’ he asked Scott.

‘No, Father. I couldn’t do that,’ Scott said.

‘You’ll need to take instruction anyway if you want to marry Elizabeth. You need to understand what being married to a Catholic means.’

‘I understand that, Father,’ Scott said. ‘And I’ll put no obstacle in Lizzie’s path. We have a Catholic Church and school not far from the store back home. I would never hamper either Lizzie or the children following their religion.’

Despite himself, Father Peters was impressed with the man, and so were Tressa and Doreen when they went up for tea one Sunday. As the cousins played in the garden, the women listened to Scott and Lizzie and their plans for the future. Later, with the men off to
the pub, Doreen and Tressa both said what a thoroughly nice and kind man Scott was. ‘You don’t mind about the colour and all?’ Tressa asked.

‘Not now,’ Lizzie said. ‘But I have to admit I did at first. No, I don’t even see the colour, I see the man behind it.’

‘Wonder what your mammy will say?’

‘What can she say? I am over twenty-one.’

‘Hmm. As if that ever made any difference in Ireland.’

Lizzie grinned at her, knowing her cousin was right. ‘Anyway,’ she said, eyeing her up. ‘What’s happened to you?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Well, Mike’s been home how long now and you’re not pregnant yet?’

‘Nor won’t be,’ Tressa said with feeling.

‘What d’you mean?’ Lizzie said. ‘Doesn’t Mike fancy it any more?’

‘As if it’s any of your business,’ Tressa replied, giving Lizzie a push. ‘If you must know, he’s using something.’

‘Tressa!’

‘I know,’ Tressa said. ‘But he said I haven’t got to know anything about it, and then the sin is his, not mine.’

‘Why, all of a sudden?’

‘Why d’you think?’ Tressa cried. ‘We have got six already. Surely that’s enough souls for the Catholic Church.’

‘And he was all set to have a football team,’ Lizzie said. ‘Now you barely have enough to play five-a-side.’

‘Aye, and that’s the way it will stay,’ Tressa commented grimly.

Scott insisted they go over to Ireland and meet Lizzie’s parents. ‘We don’t need to ask permission, but it would be nice to get their blessing.’

Lizzie thought that that was like asking for the moon. ‘Look at it from their point of view, Violet,’ she said. ‘The man I’m marrying is black and the brother to the man who attacked me and brought shame on the family, and, added to that, Scott’s a Protestant.’

‘That’s a negative viewpoint to have, Lizzie,’ Violet said. ‘Think of Scott’s good points.’

‘I know his good points,’ Lizzie said. ‘I don’t have to be convinced.’

‘Neither do they. They’re not marrying him.’

‘I know that, but it’s bound to be awkward.’

‘Look, Lizzie, what odds?’ Violet had said. ‘You’ll be there for a few days, and after you marry you probably won’t see them again for one hell of a long time. You’ve coped with worse. Haven’t the pair of you fine broad shoulders?’

Violet, as usual, spoke good sense. Lizzie didn’t expect her parents to fall on her neck and say Scott was the very man they’d have chosen for their daughter, and welcome him as warmly as some favoured son. It would be unreasonable to expect anything like that.

Niamh and Tom were happy enough to be going back to Ireland when they knew they’d be returning from it, and Georgia was dreadfully excited at the prospect of going on trains and boats. It was Celia who was proving difficult.

‘What are you afraid of?’

‘Do you have to ask?’

‘Come on, Celia, don’t let those perverted nuns ruin your life.’

‘I don’t consider it ruined, just because I don’t want to go to Ireland. Anyway,’ she added, ‘you’ll hardly want me there.’

‘Course we do. I’ve told my parents all about you. They’ll be expecting you.’

Lizzie said nothing about the impassioned plea from her brother to bring Celia with her, and in the end, with the children and Scott adding their voices to Lizzie’s, Celia agreed grudgingly to accompany them.

Lizzie’s estimation of how her parents would feel were accurate, for Catherine thought it strange that her daughter was marrying a man with skin as dark as coal. ‘I expect he’s marrying our Lizzie out of a kind of duty, with his brother doing the dirty and all,’ she said.

‘Aye. That’ll be it all right,’ Seamus agreed gloomily. ‘And all she can expect in the circumstances.’

‘And of course he’s no Catholic.’

‘Well he wouldn’t be, would he?’ Seamus said. ‘I suppose we’re lucky he’s not into some voodoo mumbojumbo.’

Johnnie was irritated by his parents’ small-town mentality, but he said nothing. It wouldn’t do to be at one another’s throats and the atmosphere uneasy when the man came. God, it would be bad enough anyway.

Seamus and Catherine tried to welcome Scott, but their greeting was artificial and forced and Lizzie was glad Johnnie was there; and glad too of the children, who saw nothing amiss and fell upon their Uncle Johnnie eagerly and covered up the awkwardness.

Lizzie could see that while Seamus and Catherine welcomed Niamh and Tom they were more than reticent with Georgia. They didn’t know the child, of course, but this was their opportunity to get to know her. ‘This is Niamh’s and Tom’s granny and granddad,’ she told Georgia. ‘You can call them the same.’