Keep the Home Fires Burning (33 page)

‘I can only imagine Marion’s pain when she knows of this,’ Polly said brokenly.

If she survives.
Sarah didn’t say the words but they hammered inside her head and she knew that though she was heartbroken over Tony’s death, she would be lost altogether without her mother.

From Victoria Road they looked over a sea of rubble. Here and there piles were still smouldering, sending curls of grey smoke into the air. Many others had people scrambling over them, moving bricks and charred and fractured roof beams to see if there was anything worth salvaging from the mounds that had once been their homes. Richard, Sarah and Polly clambered over fallen masonry, often hearing glass splinter under their feet, and tried to avoid curling hoses still dribbling into the gutters, and sodden burst sandbags bleeding onto the pavements. Yet their feet dragged for they didn’t want to take such bad news to those at home.

Marion’s life hung in the balance for some days. She didn’t regain consciousness until Easter Sunday morning. The doctor had worried that there might
be brain damage, so as soon as the hovering nurse noticed movement she went over to her. ‘Mrs Whittaker,’ she said with a wide smile wreathing her face, Tm so glad you are back with us.’

Marion had a terrific pain in her chest and her throat was so swollen it hurt her to swallow. She had no earthly idea where she was. She opened her mouth to ask the nurse but all that came out was a croak and the nurse brought her a glass of water, lifting her and supporting her while she drank it. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘I expect you want to know where you are. You’re in Lewis’s basement. The General Hospital was bombed and you had to be brought here. What can you remember?’

Marion cast her mind back and, in a voice still husky from the effects of the gas, she said, ‘There was a raid, and Magda smelled gas, and I had to go back to the cellar to turn off the paraffin stove. Tony, my son, followed me. How is he?’

The nurse had thought she would become inured to death, as she had been a nurse since 1938, but she’d never been able to come to terms with the death of a child and so she felt extremely sorry for Marion. She bent her head and busied herself tucking Marion in as she said, ‘Doctor will explain everything to you.’

‘So when can I see him?’

‘I’ll see if he’s free now, if you like?’

‘Please. I would be most grateful.’

‘Your parents are here too.’

‘My parents?’

‘Well, your father has been here hours and now your mother has joined him,’ the nurse said. ‘In fact, someone has been here all the time you were unconscious. You seem to have a very loving and supportive family.’

‘I have,’ Marion said simply. ‘And I know it.’

The nurse was glad that Marion had that support because her grief when the doctor told of the death of her son was so profound and deep it was painful to witness. Marion was filled with anguish and despair. Tears streamed from her eyes in a torrent and sobs shook her body as she remembered with shame every occasion she had shouted at Tony, or sent him to bed without his tea, or even beat him with the hairbrush.

And then she felt strong arms around her and her father was saying, ‘Oh, my darling girl …’

‘Daddy, oh, Daddy,’ Marion cried, clutching at him, glad of the solid bulk of him. ‘I can’t bear it, Daddy.’

‘You can, Marion,’ her father said firmly. ‘The others need you and you will not be on your own. Aren’t we all heartsore about the poor boy’s death?’

‘I didn’t know it would hurt this much,’ Marion cried. ‘I never thought anything could hurt this much.’

‘No, and maybe you will have a better understanding of the agony I have suffered over the years,’ Clara said, appearing on Marion’s other side. ‘But in your case your son’s death could have
been prevented, if you had heeded my warning about those gas pipes.’

‘Clara!’ Eddie gasped, shocked to the core. ‘How can you say such a thing?’

‘Because it’s true,’ Clara said, and added almost gleefully, ‘and if Marion examines her conscience she will know I’m right.’

‘You are going home,’ Eddie said unusually firmly to his wife, ‘where you can cause no further mischief and upset.’ He took his daughter’s hand and looked into her eyes, which were like pools of sadness in her head. ‘You take no heed of this. Tony’s death is not your fault.’

Marion, though, was racked with guilt. She’d known what Tony was like. Why hadn’t she made sure that he was safe on the pavement before going to turn off the stove? Whichever way she looked at it, she had led that young boy, her own son, to his death, and she wondered if she was ever going to forgive herself.

Polly, who came to see her with Pat later, would have none of it when Marion told them of her parent’s visit.

‘I was afraid of an explosion,’ Marion said. Tm disgusted with myself. I was putting the love of my house over the safety of my son.’

‘But, Marion, it wouldn’t just have been the house, would it?’ Pat said. ‘If it had exploded it would have killed, or at least badly injured, the kids outside. What you did saved the rest of them. Yours wasn’t the only gas pipe fractured that night,
you know. The whole area has been evacuated until they can repair the pipes and they must make sure any build up of gas has dispersed before they’ll allow you back. The others are camping out in a school hall on the Lozell’s Road for now. No, Marion, Tony’s death was an accident. It was tragic, and there’ll probably not be a day when we won’t miss him and wish he was still here, but if anyone was responsible it was the German bombers.’

‘Do you really think that?’

‘I know that,’ Pat said firmly. He thought for a fleeting moment of Bill, out in God alone knew where, unaware of the grievous blow his family had been dealt. He remembered the day they had enlisted, when he said it would tear the heart out of him to lose just one son, and Pat’s heart burned for him. ‘Bill needs to know,’ he said to Marion. ‘I could write to him, if you would like me to.’

‘Would you, Pat?’ Marion said gratefully and her eyes filled with tears again. ‘He will be so upset and there’ll be no one near him to give him any support.’

Pat knew no support in the world would lessen this blow for Bill, but he didn’t share that with Marion; he just told her to get well and strong again, for all the family was pining for her.

Marion saw that herself when her older children came to see her, their eyes red-rimmed in their ravaged white faces. They seemed shrouded in misery. Peggy and Violet, who also came, were little
better, and yet the hospital wouldn’t think about discharging Marion until she could go back in her own house, which didn’t happen until Thursday.

She arrived in the afternoon to a house cleaned from top to bottom by Polly and Sarah, who had taken time off from work.

Later that day Marion said, ‘You know what tortures me, Polly?’

‘What?’

‘D’you think Tony knew I loved him?’

‘Of course he did.’

‘He might not have done,’ Marion said, and her eyes were sombre. ‘I mean, I never said I did.’

‘Well, it ain’t summat you have to say, is it?’ Polly said. ‘They just know, don’t they?’

‘I don’t know,’ Marion said helplessly. ‘Our mam didn’t love us, did she?’

‘Our mam was one on her own.’

‘Yeah, but was she, though?’ Marion said. ‘When I think back all I ever seemed to do was tell Tony off. It was just that I was worried that he’d go to the bad. I mean, he got up to some pranks.’

‘Yeah, him and Jack together.’

‘Thick as thieves, they were, and that’s what I thought they were turning into when they stole that coal. I was frightened to death then and yet I never laid a hand on him that time. He reduced me to tears and it shocked him to bits to see me so upset. I knew he’d never do anything like that again.’

‘Yes, because he cared about your good opinion
of him,’ Polly said confidently, ‘because he loved you and knew that you loved him. Believe me, Marion, you never told Tony off unless he deserved it, and he would know that too.’

‘I did love him, you see,’ Marion said. ‘I loved him desperately, like I do all of them. I wish I could have told him just the once. It’s awful if you don’t feel loved by your mother.’

‘You’re thinking of our mam again and how she behaved,’ Polly said. ‘And you can never compare yourself with her. Her love shrivelled up when she lost Michael, and she had none left for anyone else. Your love was freely given to all your children and they’re all a credit to you – and I include Tony in that, God rest his soul.’

‘D’you know, I have been wondering why he followed me down that cellar,’ Marion said. ‘And I think it was because Richard had told him that he’d be man of the house when he enlisted.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Tony was very impressed by that and that night I think he was sort of looking out for me.’

‘See, what did I tell you?’

‘Oh, Polly, you are good for me.’

‘We’ll always have each other, you know that,’ Polly said, her voice thick with emotion, ‘and I’ll be right beside you at the funeral tomorrow.’

The following morning Polly and her daughters carried armloads of food from their house to Marion’s, for the funeral guests. ‘People were good when they knew it was for Tony’s funeral, and gave up some of their rations. And it’s amazing what could be found under many a grocer or butcher’s counter when they knew what it was for,’ Polly said, when Marion asked where all the food had come from.

‘But you and the girls must have worked your fingers to the bone to do all this, and Pat has arranged the funeral and everything. I feel quite useless,’ Marion said.

‘Marion, you are not long out of hospital and you were injured yourself, don’t forget,’ Polly said. ‘The funeral itself will be enough of an ordeal, believe me.’

It was an ordeal for them all. Marion looked at all the white faces and knew they were suffering in their own way as they walked together in a
sombre group to church. Richard took his mother’s arm and Sarah, Peggy and Violet took charge of the twins. Marion was surprised, though pleased, by the numbers that came. Neighbours and friends, Catholic and non-Catholic, nearly filled the church, along with Tony’s classmates and his teacher and the headmaster.

It was the first time that Marion had seen Jack since the tragedy and she was shocked at his appearance. It was as if the lifeblood had been squeezed from him and his dark eyes, usually alight with devilment of one kind or another, looked huge in his gaunt face. At the Requiem Mass Father McIntyre described Tony as full of life with a highly developed sense of fun, and Marion was very glad he didn’t go into details and recount the tale of him and Jack snaffling the Communion wine. But the priest’s words stirred memories for the twins, and they wept for their brother. Jack, who had never been known to cry about anything, also sobbed for the cousin he would never see again.

Richard, fearing his mother might give way herself with such an open show of distress from the children, squeezed her arm in a gesture of support. She smiled at him sadly but she was able to swallow the lump threatening to choke her and blink away the tears prickling in her eyes, because she knew that if she began to cry now she would be unable to stop.

At the cemetery, after Jack had dropped the
clod of earth on top of Tony’s coffin, he sidled up to Marion and said, ‘I’m real sorry about Tony, Aunt Marion.’

Marion looked down at the woebegone child and wondered why she had ever had such an active dislike of him. ‘I know you are, Jack,’ she said gently.

‘He was my best friend, Aunt Marion,’ Jack said. ‘I will miss him so much, and I’ll never forget him, not even if I live to be a hundred.’

‘I’ll miss him too, Jack,’ Marion said. ‘Every day of my life I will miss him, and yet I know that we must learn to live our lives without him, however hard that is, because that’s what Tony would want us to do.’

Despite Marion’s words to Jack, it was hard for her to live without Tony, hard even to believe she would never see him again. The whole family missed him, each in their own way. Sarah had been four when he was born and she remembered looking at him for ages as he lay in his cot or in his mother’s arms, and thought him so incredibly sweet. Marion remembered this and though she knew Tony would annoy Richard greatly sometimes, and tease the twins, there was no nastiness or malice in it; he was just mischievous. He had such a cheeky grin and infectious laugh no one was cross with him for long, even Magda, though sometimes they’d go at it hammer and tongs. What their mother would give to hear them quarrelling now.

Tony’s death made a large hole in Bill’s life too, and his hurt and pain could almost be lifted from the pages of the letter he sent Marion. He also felt a measure of guilt that he had exacted a promise from her that she would use the cellar whenever there was a raid, and hadn’t given a thought to the gas taps. If it hadn’t been for her mother, she wouldn’t have thought of them either.

No one would agree to use the cellar any more and Marion could hardly blame them. She was just glad that since that fateful raid there was only light and sporadic bombing. The children found it very hard to speak about Tony and, as if by tacit consent, avoided his name, fearful of upsetting their mother further.

Then one evening, recounting some tale, Magda let Tony’s name slip out and immediately clapped her hand over her mouth.

‘I don’t mind you talking about Tony,’ Marion said. ‘I won’t promise not to get upset, but that isn’t always a bad thing. Not to talk about him means that he might as well not have existed, and yet he was an important part of our lives for almost eleven years – all your lifetime, Magda, and yours too, Missie. We will all have our memories of him and if you want to share them, in the end it might help us all cope better.’

How Richard and Sarah admired their mother for that. They both knew that while Tony’s death had affected them, it had knocked their mother for six. At first their attempts to talk about their
brother were tentative and cautious. However, Tony had been full of life and mischief, and was often very funny, so that remembering the things he said and the escapades he had got up to meant the tears were frequently replaced by smiles. Marion found this strangely cathartic and it helped to fill the black hole.