Two Penn'orth of Sky (46 page)

‘And I must tell you, Mrs Fisher, that it wasn’t me who popped the question,’ Mr Mac said. He looked serious, save for the lurking twinkle in his dark eyes. ‘This forward young hussy put it to me straight that I needed a wife and that she would suit me best.’

Emmy choked over her sherry and began to giggle, but presently, mopping her streaming eyes, she said indignantly: ‘It wasn’t like that at all, Beryl, he’s having you on. Oh, I admit I asked him to marry me, but he had asked me, very improperly, if I would like a family. So then, of course, I felt I had to mention marriage, to make things respectable, like.’

‘Well, whichever. And whether you knew it or not, I’ve known for weeks that you’d fallen for Mr Mac,’ Beryl said comfortably. ‘You never were one who could hide your feelings, Emmy, my love. Every time Johnny or Carl were mentioned, you’d look that worried and anxious that I felt downright sorry for you. But every time Mr Mac’s name came into the conversation, your eyes went all dreamy and soft and half the time you stopped listening to a word I was saying, and drifted on into some dream of your
own. Oh aye,
you
may not have known you’d met your Mr Right, but I knew, I’m telling you straight.’ She turned her gaze on to Mr Mac, smiling slightly at him. ‘And as for you, Mr Mac, it weren’t difficult to put two and two together and make four, not after our conversation in the train coming back from Llandudno that day. I haven’t lived in this court all me life without learnin’ a good deal about people. I thought you were in love with our Emmy, but I weren’t sure whether you knew it yourself or not. Not until you come round askin’ her to go house-huntin’ with you, that is. Then I were pretty sure.’ Mr Mac and Emmy stared at Beryl, goggle-eyed. Then they both smiled, their expressions so similar that Beryl laughed aloud. ‘You’ll do,’ she said. ‘You’re two of a kind, you are. And how did young Diana take it? I guess the reason she lit out without waitin’ for her tea was so’s she could be first with the news.’

Diana would have found Charlie, if she could have done so, but it appeared that he and Lenny had gone off on some errand of their own. She could have told the other kids but wanted Charlie to be the first to hear her news. So, having scouted up and down the area for him, she decided she would go to Mrs Symons first. After all, the old lady had been a good friend to her and would be delighted that Emmy had chosen someone she both knew and liked. Of course, Mrs Symons had known Johnny Frost slightly, and had shared Diana’s opinion that he was weak, but she had not known Carl Johansson at all and had accepted Diana’s view of him, especially when Diana had told her that Carl might well carry his wife and stepdaughter back to Sweden with him. ‘And I’d miss all of you dreadfully, Mrs
Symons,’ Diana had said mournfully. ‘So I do hope Mam comes to her senses. Aunty Beryl says there’s as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it, which I
think
means that Mam might meet someone really nice one day. Still, there’s nothing I can do about it; I’m only a kid.’

So, knocking briskly on the Symonses’ front door and going in, Diana was confident that her old friend would share her feelings, and so it proved.

‘Mr Mac is a thoroughly nice, thoroughly good man who will make you and your mam very happy,’ Mrs Symons said positively. ‘And you say you’re to live in Sydenham Avenue? That’s an excellent area. When I was a little girl, we lived for a while in Buckingham Avenue. I was really happy there; my mama used to take me to the park and I had a great many little friends living nearby.’

‘Why did you leave?’ Diana asked curiously. ‘We left because my daddy was killed; if it hadn’t happened, I’m sure we would still be there.’

‘My papa was in business with a partner, a Mr Phillips,’ Mrs Symons said. ‘They had a company which imported fine china from all over the world, and were doing very well. Mr Phillips, however, was not an honest man, though my mama said many times that he could charm the birds out of the trees.’ She sighed sadly, looking back down the long years. ‘But my mama did not take to him and she was proved right when he disappeared one morning in early summer, taking with him all the profits from Gregg & Phillips, as well as all the orders which were waiting to be honoured. The receivers were called in . . . you won’t know what that means, dear, but it was the end of Gregg & Phillips – and we were forced to sell everything, our beautiful house, all the horses
and carriages, even the cottage in the country where we had spent our holidays.’

‘Oh, Mrs Symons, how dreadful,’ Diana breathed, awestruck. ‘Did the police ever catch up with Mr Phillips? Did your family ever get their money back?’ She stroked the old lady’s hand. ‘I am
so
sorry.’

Mrs Symons laughed and pinched Diana’s cheek. ‘You’re a kind little soul,’ she said. ‘No, Mr Phillips disappeared like a raindrop in a puddle, but my papa managed to revive the business, though in a much smaller way. We lived in a far humbler house and, naturally, in a far humbler style, but we never went hungry, and very soon there was enough money coming in to enable us to live comfortably once more. And then, of course, I met Adam Symons. It was love at first sight and, even though he was only a clerk in a shipping office, we married almost at once.’ She beamed at Diana. ‘And lived happily ever after,’ she ended.

Diana smiled back. ‘Well, if Mam had married either Johnny or Carl, I’d have gone away from Liverpool, but now I’m safe because we’ll stay here,’ she said. ‘Mr Mac – I’m to call him Uncle Ted, by the way – is going to buy a car, so if he sends it to fetch you, would you come out to Sydenham Avenue and visit us? Mam and I would be delighted and I’m sure Mr Mac would, too. And now I must go and find Charlie. I wonder what he’ll say when I tell him we will be moving out.’

What Charlie said in his head was ‘Thanks be to God’, but his mother gave him a glance so loaded with warning that he bit back the words, saying neutrally: ‘Well, ain’t that grand, queen! I’ve heared Mr Mac’s
flat is pretty large, so no doubt you’ll have a room to yourself.’

Diana, alight with excitement, told him about the house in Sydenham Avenue and Charlie mentally revised his feelings; it would be rare nice to be able to spend all day in the park, playing footie, muckin’ about by the lake, and going in and out of the palm house. They could pop in to Aunt Emmy’s for their dinner and though it would mean having to let Diana share their games, it was a small price to pay for the freedom of the park.

So Charlie approved of the wedding plans, though he was satisfyingly astonished to hear that Emmy was to marry Mr Mac, instead of Johnny or Carl. ‘But he’s
old
,’ he had said, when he and Diana had gone for a stroll along the Scotland Road. ‘Don’t you mind him being old, Di? An’ wharrabout Aunt Emmy? Don’t she mind?’

‘He’s not
that
old,’ Diana objected. ‘But I don’t think it matters, Charlie. Look at Mrs Symons. She’s old as the hills – older – but she’s me best friend, after you.’

Charlie did not argue the point; he had no intention of putting a rub in the way of the Wesleys’ leaving. They were all right, both of them, but the house was crowded enough without them, and anyway, he would be glad of a respite from Diana’s constant presence. So he agreed that Mr Mac was probably just right for Aunt Emmy and began to look forward to moving-out day.

Christmas came and went. March arrived and Diana bounced around the house, talking excitedly about the gown she would wear for her mother’s wedding. The house had been bought and Emmy and Mr Mac
had enormous fun furnishing it, though Diana rapidly grew bored and opted out of such shopping trips. The wedding date was fixed for 9th April. Mr Mac had closed the restaurant to ordinary customers on that day, in order that the wedding breakfast might be held there, and when the day dawned, bright and sunny, the excitement amongst the staff and the wedding guests was intense. Wedding breakfasts in the courts were entirely dependent on the weather, for the houses were far too small to allow for a party to be held indoors. That was why weddings were mostly held in June, July and August, when at least the weather was warmer and there was a good chance that the ‘two penn’orth of sky’ above the rooftops would be blue.

Emmy, dressing in her room, with her daughter dancing excitedly around, a vision in pink and white lace and tulle, found herself aflutter with nerves. Her first wedding had been wonderful, but she acknowledged now that the way she felt about Peter had been puppy love compared to the way she felt about Ted McCullough. She knew, without a shadow of doubt, that Ted was indeed her Mr Right. She supposed that Peter had been exactly right for the fluttery little butterfly she had been at nineteen, but now that she was a woman who had had to learn both strength and independence, she needed someone altogether different. In fact, she needed Mr Mac.

‘Emmy, time’s getting on, queen. I know they say brides always ought to be a bit late . . .’

Emmy’s heart gave a little jerk; the words Beryl was saying were the very same that she had used to hurry Emmy to her first wedding. For a moment she saw Peter’s face quite clearly as he had looked on that long-ago day, and she felt tears come to her eyes. Poor Peter, her first love . . . but not, thank goodness,
her last. Life had to go on and she knew that her happiness would have been Peter’s first concern. So she banished the tears, because they were for a past which could never return, and turned to smile resolutely at her friend. Beryl was looking her best in a bright blue skirt and jacket and a pink cloche hat, and, beside her, Diana looked sweet in rose-pink. Emmy was dressed in a cream linen suit with a string of amber beads round her throat and tan-coloured court shoes on her feet, and on her dressing table lay a modest bouquet of dark yellow roses. She picked up the flowers, then glanced in the mirror to check that nothing was amiss with her appearance. She could not regret leaving the little house in the court, though she would always remember the wonderful kindness of both Beryl and Wally in offering her a home at her time of greatest need.

‘It’s all right, Beryl, I’m ready to leave,’ she said, and reached up to give her friend a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘You’ve been wonderful, queen, better than any sister, and I’ve been very happy under your roof . . .’

‘Oh, go on with you,’ Beryl said, returning the kiss. ‘Now let’s get this show on the road. I dare say Mr Mac will be as nervous as a kitten, because though you’re an old hand at weddings, this is his first. Emmy, you look like a girl again, pretty as a picture. Why, Diana might be your sister.’

As she spoke, she was ushering mother and daughter downstairs, and presently Emmy stepped into the court, glancing upwards as she did so. ‘Oh look,’ she said, clutching Beryl’s arm, ‘the two penn’orth of sky that Mam talked about is all blue and gold. Oh, Beryl, it’s a sign, isn’t it? We’re going to be the happiest little family in the whole world!’