Honour Thy Father Read online

  Honour Thy Father

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  In loving memory of Ted.

  Chapter One

  Anne Redmond glanced out of the wide window at the small white clouds in the blue sky and the sunlight falling on a cherry tree covered in blossom at the end of the long garden.

  ‘This is how the first of May should be,’ she said, smiling at her husband and three children gathered round the breakfast table in the window alcove. ‘I hope you all remembered to say “White Rabbits”.’

  ‘I didn’t. That’s kids’ stuff, Mum,’ her ten-year-old son Gerry protested.

  His father laughed. ‘That’s right, son. You’re growing up now. Far more important to remember that May the first is Labour Day,’ he said approvingly. ‘I’ll take you to see the parade later. We always get a good turnout in Liverpool and it should be even better this year with the general election coming up later this month.’

  ‘I said “White Rabbits”, Mummy, and I told Julie to say it,’ Laura said loudly. Although only six and a half years old she was a stubborn, independent child and she looked defiantly at her father and elder brother.

  Her mother only smiled and said easily, ‘Then you and Julie should have good luck anyway, love.’

  In 1955 the wartime food shortages were only a memory. The older children had eaten cornflakes followed by boiled eggs and there was a rack of toast and a dish of marmalade on the table. Anne was sitting beside her youngest daughter trying to coax her to eat but the tiny, fragile child turned away from all she offered and would eat only a small piece of toast.

  With a sigh Anne lifted her down from her chair. ‘If you’re all finished you can go and play in the garden but hold Julie’s hand, Laura, and don’t let her sit on the wet grass. And don’t you attempt to climb the cherry tree, Gerry, or you’ll damage the blossom.’ No use telling her happy-go-lucky son to look after Julie, she thought ruefully. Her words would go in one ear and out of the other although he loved his little sister, but Laura was more reliable.

  John went upstairs and Anne began to carry the breakfast dishes into the scullery. At first the children just ran about the garden but then they gathered beneath the cherry tree trying to catch the petals which floated down from it like snow. Leaves like tiny fans were opening on the sycamore tree which grew beside it.

  ‘I wouldn’t spoil the blossom if I climbed the cherry tree,’ Gerry said. ‘I’d be careful.’

  ‘Mummy said you would and she loves the blossom,’ Laura said quickly. ‘Leave it alone.’

  ‘I’ll climb the sycamore then. I’ll climb right to the top,’ Gerry boasted.

  ‘Don’t you dare, Gerry. It’s too big,’ Laura exclaimed.

  ‘Don’t, Gewwy,’ Julie echoed, but he went to the tree.

  He was a big, strong boy, tall for his age with a fresh complexion, blue eyes and fair curly hair. Laura had blue eyes and curly hair too but her hair was dark and her character completely different from Gerry’s. He was placid and easygoing, usually content to be ruled by his strong-willed sister, but today he was determined to climb a tree.

  He scrambled on to the wall behind the tree without difficulty and launched himself at one of the branches. From there he climbed higher up the tree. ‘It’s the gear up here,’ he shouted. ‘I can see nearly to the Pier Head.’ He climbed even higher, then with the girls watching fearfully he began to crawl along a branch.

  The next moment there was a loud crack, then boy and branch fell together, Gerry bouncing off the lower branches and coming to rest on the grass, flat on his back with his left arm bent awkwardly beneath him.

  The screams of the younger children brought their mother racing to them, closely followed by their father.

  ‘Don’t move him. Have some sense,’ John shouted as Anne fell on her knees beside Gerry and attempted to take him in her arms. John pushed her aside and she turned to comfort the sobbing girls, lifting Julie in her arms and drawing Laura close to her.

  John hung over Gerry, frantically smoothing back his curls and shouting at Anne, ‘Why weren’t you watching them? He could have been killed.’

  Laura’s terror swiftly turned to anger and she flung her arms protectively round her mother’s waist. ‘It wasn’t Mummy’s fault,’ she yelled at her father. ‘She told him not to.’ She glared at him so ferociously that he seemed taken aback but before he could speak Gerry opened his eyes.

  ‘Oh, thank God,’ Anne exclaimed.

  John said gently, ‘You’ll be all right, son. We’ll get the doctor and he’ll give you something to take the pain away. Be a brave lad.’

  Laura sighed with relief but she still scowled at her father and when he said, ‘Ring the doctor, Anne. Tell him it’s urgent’, she kept her arm round her mother’s waist as they went back to the house.

  Within minutes, it seemed, the doctor arrived, closely followed by Anne’s brother Joe and his wife Sarah who was also John’s sister, and their two children David and Rosaleen.

  When the ambulance arrived, Anne and John went with Gerry, leaving the other children with Joe and Sarah. Aunt Sarah took Julie on her knee. ‘She’s had a fright, poor little mite,’ she said, cuddling the child, and Joe drew Laura to him.

  ‘You’ve had a shock too, pet,’ he said. ‘But Gerry’ll be all right. He’s broken his arm and bumped his head but he’ll be as right as rain soon.’

  ‘Daddy shouted at Mummy,’ Laura said resentfully, ‘but it wasn’t Mummy’s fault. She told Gerry not to climb the tree.’

  Anne was Joe’s beloved youngest sister and for a moment he looked grim, then he said gently, ‘Some people get excited when something happens and say things they don’t mean, then they’re sorry afterwards. Don’t worry about it, love. Your mummy understands your daddy.’ But Laura was not convinced.

  Her cousin David had sat down in the corner and opened a book but Rosaleen, who was only six months younger than Laura, flung her arm round Laura’s neck. ‘Should we play “three coppa’s out”?’ she suggested and the two little girls went into the garden to play.

  As they went, Laura heard her Aunt Sarah exclaim, ‘I could murder our John. As if Anne wasn’t upset enough without him shouting at her. Even the child noticed it.’

  Laura followed Rosaleen down the garden and heard no more but indoors Joe said soothingly, ‘Oh well, you know John, Sar. He speaks first and thinks afterwards but Anne understands him. Like Grandma says, actions speak louder than words and he’s a good husband otherwise.’

  ‘I’m not saying he’s a bad husband,’ Sarah said, ‘but he’s thoughtless and Anne’s too soft with him.’

  Joe laughed. ‘Whose side are
you on?’ he teased her. ‘I thought as his sister you’d be taking John’s part.’

  ‘Anne was my friend before she was John’s wife,’ Sarah retorted, ‘and I feel responsible because they met through me. Our John should remember, too, that it’s only eighteen months since your dad died so suddenly. He should be extra considerate with Anne.’

  ‘Yes, that hit Anne even harder than the rest of us,’ Joe said with a sigh. ‘She was so close to him. His baby.’

  ‘The trouble is Anne always puts the best side out,’ said Sarah. ‘She always seems so happy and light-hearted but I know how much she grieves for your dad and so should John.’

  ‘I’m sure he does,’ Joe said. ‘It was just a moment of panic, especially as it was Gerry and he spoke without thinking.’

  Julie had fallen asleep on her aunt’s knee and Sarah gently laid her on the sofa where she continued to sleep. Laura and Rosaleen were still playing ball in the garden. They were close friends although very different in appearance and temperament and were classmates at the parish school. Rosaleen, reckless and extrovert, was a beauty with curling auburn hair and brilliant blue eyes. In contrast, sturdy, dark-haired Laura seemed withdrawn but her quietness could never be mistaken for shyness. Her features and expression, the tilt of her head, even the way she stood already showed her stubborn and uncompromising character.

  Now they played together happily until they heard Laura’s parents arriving home and rushed into the living room to meet them. Laura went immediately to stand protectively beside her mother but her parents seemed to be on good terms.

  ‘Gerry’ll be fine,’ Anne said. ‘He’s had his arm set and they’re just keeping him overnight to rest.’

  ‘And to check him out in case he’s concussed,’ John said, but Anne gave him a warning look and nodded at the children and he added hastily, ‘He was very plucky. The doctors were impressed with him, weren’t they, Anne?’

  ‘Yes, we were proud of him,’ Anne agreed with a smile. Julie had woken and Anne took her in her arms. ‘Has she been all right?’ she asked Sarah anxiously.

  ‘Yes, she fell asleep on my knee but she was getting a bit hot so I put her down on the sofa,’ Sarah said. She patted Julie’s cheek. ‘You had a nice sleep, didn’t you, pet?’ Julie smiled shyly and nodded.

  Rosaleen began to pull at Laura’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s finish the game,’ she said but Laura clung stubbornly to her mother.

  Anne smiled at her. ‘Yes, go and finish your game, love.’ They went out and Sarah urged Anne to sit down and rest while she made her a cup of tea.

  The two young mothers had become friends when they worked together as young girls, soon after leaving school, and the bond between them was strengthened when each married the other’s brother. Now Sarah was solicitous with Anne, bringing her a steaming cup of tea and telling her not to worry about Gerry.

  ‘Children are very resilient,’ she said. ‘Gerry will soon bounce back.’

  ‘I’m sure he will,’ Anne agreed. ‘Nothing bothers Gerry for long.’ Julie rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and sucked her thumb. Anne smiled fondly at her. ‘I wish she was more like that,’ she said.

  ‘She’ll soon grow stronger,’ Sarah comforted her. ‘Don’t forget she had a bad start being premature, but she’ll soon catch up, you’ll see.’

  Anne looked at the child. ‘She grows more like my mum every day, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Well, you’re like your mum with that same Spanish look so I suppose Julie takes after both of you really,’ Sarah pointed out.

  ‘Yes, but I mean she’s like Mum was in character too,’ Anne said. ‘Very quiet and gentle.’ She smiled. ‘Very different to Laura. She’s as stubborn as a mule and she speaks her mind, young as she is. You should have heard her yelling at John this morning. Gerry’s different again. Sails through life. Doesn’t care if it snows.’

  ‘Strange, isn’t it?’ said Sarah. ‘No matter how many there are in a family, they’re all different. Look at your family. Seven of you and all different in character although some of you look alike.’

  ‘And the same with your family,’ said Anne. ‘All different.’

  ‘Me and our John are as different as chalk and cheese,’ Sarah agreed. ‘Even to look at and Mick’s different again, more like Gerry.’

  ‘I hope Gerry’s as successful as Mick,’ Anne laughed. ‘He must be nearly a millionaire by now.’

  Sarah looked thoughtful. ‘Our Kate, Anne. Do you think Rosaleen might be taking after her?’

  ‘Not a chance,’ Anne said. ‘Rosa’s full of life and high spirits but she’s nothing like Kate. She was a little faggot even as a child, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, and she was sly. Rosaleen’s not sly, just the opposite,’ Sarah said.

  ‘I think Rosaleen’s more like your Aunt Mary,’ said Anne. ‘Beautiful like her and the same colouring and look how she settled down with Sam. Any news from America?’

  ‘Not from Kate,’ Sarah said grimly. ‘She never writes but Aunt Mary said in her last letter that Kate’s third marriage is on the rocks now. I wish she hadn’t told us. It only upsets Mum and Dad and Grandma and they can’t do anything about it.’

  ‘Yes, it would be better if she said nothing, especially as Kate never writes,’ Anne said. ‘Leave them in blissful ignorance.’

  Sarah glanced at her. Anne’s pale, clear skin looked even paler and there were dark shadows beneath her brown eyes. ‘I’m a fool,’ Sarah exclaimed remorsefully. ‘I tell you to rest then I talk your leg off. I’ll take Laura and Julie back with us, Anne, while you have a lie down.’ Julie seemed sleepy again and Anne’s arm tightened round her. ‘I’ll keep Julie with me, thanks all the same, Sar,’ she said. ‘I want to be sure she has no ill effects from the shock.’

  ‘We’ll take Laura with us anyway,’ Sarah said. ‘It was a shock for her, too, poor child, and she can get over it playing with Rosa.’

  ‘Oh, Laura’s pretty tough,’ Anne said lightly. ‘She’ll soon shake it off.’

  Sarah said no more but when she and Joe left for home with the children she held Laura’s hand as they walked the short distance. When they arrived she gave Laura a large dish of ice cream with cream soda mineral poured over it. ‘I know that’s your favourite, love,’ she said. ‘And it’ll help you to get over the shock of Gerry falling out of the tree.’

  She made smaller dishes for David and Rosaleen and Joe joked, ‘They’re getting that, Laura, because they’d suffer from shock too if they didn’t get any.’ All the children laughed and Laura thought how nice her aunt and uncle were. I wish Uncle Joe was my dad, she thought, then felt uneasy. Too young to recognise her feeling as disloyalty she only felt that she loved her own dad really.

  Gerry soon returned home with his left arm in plaster and in a sling and enjoyed all the attention this brought him. As it was his left arm and he would soon be taking the eleven-plus examination he was allowed to return to school where his easygoing personality had made him popular, so he enjoyed even more attention.

  He was less pleased to be barred from the school football team and from other team games, but he still enjoyed wild games of cricket or rounders in the playground, using the bat one-handed. After school he often managed to slip out to play in the small park nearby, wild games of Relieve O or Kick the Can which meant that he often returned home with dirty and torn clothes, but John was proud of his son’s recklessness. ‘He’s a real boy,’ he announced fondly to the family.

  Julie caught a cold which developed into bronchitis and Laura often woke to hear her mother moving about as she cared for the sick child. She heard her Aunt Sarah remonstrating with her mother one day. ‘You shouldn’t try to do it all yourself, Anne,’ she said. ‘You should waken John to take a turn.’

  ‘He’d do it willingly,’ her mother said, ‘but I don’t call him because he works such long hours and I’d be awake anyway if Julie was bad.’

  ‘I’d look after Julie,’ Laura said eagerly but her mother seemed a
nnoyed. ‘Little pitchers,’ she said to Sarah then told Laura brusquely to go out to play.

  Sarah worked part-time in a sweet shop but she was able to collect Laura and take her to school with Rosaleen so that Anne could stay with Julie. Sarah also brought Laura home. One day after school they arrived to find John and Sarah’s grandmother, Sally Ward, with Anne.

  ‘Is Julie worse?’ Sarah asked in alarm.

  Grandma said firmly, ‘No, but John called in to tell us about Julie so I thought I’d come to let Anne get a night’s sleep. Nothing more tiring than disturbed nights with a sick child.’

  Sally Ward was a spare, upright old lady with white hair drawn back in a bun. Her late husband Lawrie Ward had fought all his life for better conditions for the poor of Liverpool and Sally had nursed the sick among them and comforted the bereaved. Her house had been destroyed by a bomb during the war and she now lived happily with her daughter Cathy and her husband Greg, who were John and Sarah’s parents.

  Anne smiled at her gratefully. ‘Grandma says she’ll sit up with Julie tonight and she’s brought a lovely meat pie and some cakes from your mum, Sar.’

  ‘She knew you wouldn’t have time for cooking, girl,’ Sally said.

  ‘I’m very lucky. Sarah’s done so much to help me and Laura’s helped too, haven’t you, love?’

  ‘That’s a good girl,’ Sally said approvingly. ‘There’s no better blessing than a good daughter, like your Nana is to me.’

  ‘What about me, Grandma?’ Rosa said pertly. ‘Am I a good daughter?’

  ‘I think we’ll have to wait and see about you,’ Grandma said but Rosa was unabashed. She linked her arm through Laura’s and they ran into the garden laughing.

  Laura was often puzzled about her relations at this time, confused by the fact that her parents were doubly related to her aunt and uncle.

  ‘Is Grandma your grandma too?’ she asked Rosaleen.

  ‘Yes, because my mum is your dad’s sister and Nana and Grandma are their mother and grandmother. Your mum and my dad are brother and sister too but their mum and dad are in heaven.’

  ‘You’re very clever to know all that, Rosa,’ Laura said, gazing admiringly at her cousin.