it all on your own, though. I’ll give you a hand if you like.’
‘Would you?’
‘I would and gladly,’ May said. ‘And I say no time like the present.’
‘Now?’
‘Why not?’ May said. ‘Little Ruthie is asleep, Billy’s out playing and I have nothing pressing, so come on, let’s strike while the iron is hot.’
Afterwards, Meg was so glad that May was there with her ready banter to keep misery away, for every garment she lifted from the wardrobe, or drew from the chest of drawers evoked poignant memories of her mother.
But at last all was done and packed away in two tea chests, which Meg got from the attic; a cardboard box that May produced took all the combs, brushes and creams and so forth that littered her dressing table.
Meg was apprehensive about their father’s reaction, but she needn’t have worried. When she asked him to go upstairs to see what she had done, he went straight away and stood for a moment in the doorway.
‘You … you’ve cleared out Maeve’s things,’ he said to Meg.
‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘Only as far as the attic, though, in case you want to keep anything.’
‘I don’t need a keepsake to remember Maeve. She will be in my heart for ever,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m glad, relieved that you cleared her things away. I couldn’t bring myself to do it and I thought it would be too upsetting for you.’
‘It was a bit,’ Meg admitted. ‘But May helped me.’
‘She’s a good neighbour, that May,’ Charlie said.
‘None better,’ Meg agreed, and then took a deep breath. She didn’t know how her father would take to the idea of her wearing her dead mother’s clothes. ‘The point is, Daddy, what do you want me to do with Mom’s things now?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Well, Mom was going to buy me some new things for starting work,’ Meg said. ‘The ones I have now don’t fit too well.’
Charlie looked at his daughter and saw that she was right. Her skirts were far too short and her buttons were strained across her bodice. He was ashamed that he hadn’t seen these things for himself.
‘My boots pinch my feet too,’ Meg said. ‘But if you wouldn’t mind me adapting Mom’s clothes to fit me, Jenny could have my things and Sally have Jenny’s and it will only be the boys who will have to have new things for the winter – and Ruth, of course.’
Charlie drew in a deep breath. ‘I don’t say that it won’t cut me to the quick to see you in Maeve’s things, but if she were beside me this moment she would berate me for being stupid. She has no need of clothes and you have, you all have, so take what you need and I will learn to deal with it.’
Charlie’s eyes were like pools of pain and Meg cried, ‘Oh, Dad, are you sure?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘I’m not sure of anything much anymore, Meg,’ he said. ‘But I do know that it’s the sensible thing to do. Oh, Meg, Meg, I’ve been little help to you these past weeks.’
‘Oh, Dad, don’t,’ Meg said, embarrassed.
‘I know I’ve been selfish,’ Charlie said, ‘and I don’t blame you looking like that. My brothers have both been on about how I was behaving, but somehow I couldn’t see any way forward and drinking blurred it a bit. I missed your mother so much, and then the child … every time I looked at her, it brought it all back.’
‘I know, Dad,’ Meg said. ‘I feel Mom’s loss too, but it isn’t Ruth’s fault.’
‘I know that really,’ Charlie said, ‘but somehow I can’t feel for her the way I do about you and the others.’
‘Oh, Dad.’
Charlie looked at the tears sparkling in his daughter’s eyes. ‘Don’t take on, old girl,’ he said. ‘I’m doing my best and I’m determined to change. I reckon I have wallowed in grief long enough. Time to take up the reins again.’
Meg was delighted to hear her father’s words; if he meant them, their way forward would be easier. She thought of saying more about Ruth, but in the end said nothing. If he
‘Would you?’
‘I would and gladly,’ May said. ‘And I say no time like the present.’
‘Now?’
‘Why not?’ May said. ‘Little Ruthie is asleep, Billy’s out playing and I have nothing pressing, so come on, let’s strike while the iron is hot.’
Afterwards, Meg was so glad that May was there with her ready banter to keep misery away, for every garment she lifted from the wardrobe, or drew from the chest of drawers evoked poignant memories of her mother.
But at last all was done and packed away in two tea chests, which Meg got from the attic; a cardboard box that May produced took all the combs, brushes and creams and so forth that littered her dressing table.
Meg was apprehensive about their father’s reaction, but she needn’t have worried. When she asked him to go upstairs to see what she had done, he went straight away and stood for a moment in the doorway.
‘You … you’ve cleared out Maeve’s things,’ he said to Meg.
‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘Only as far as the attic, though, in case you want to keep anything.’
‘I don’t need a keepsake to remember Maeve. She will be in my heart for ever,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m glad, relieved that you cleared her things away. I couldn’t bring myself to do it and I thought it would be too upsetting for you.’
‘It was a bit,’ Meg admitted. ‘But May helped me.’
‘She’s a good neighbour, that May,’ Charlie said.
‘None better,’ Meg agreed, and then took a deep breath. She didn’t know how her father would take to the idea of her wearing her dead mother’s clothes. ‘The point is, Daddy, what do you want me to do with Mom’s things now?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Well, Mom was going to buy me some new things for starting work,’ Meg said. ‘The ones I have now don’t fit too well.’
Charlie looked at his daughter and saw that she was right. Her skirts were far too short and her buttons were strained across her bodice. He was ashamed that he hadn’t seen these things for himself.
‘My boots pinch my feet too,’ Meg said. ‘But if you wouldn’t mind me adapting Mom’s clothes to fit me, Jenny could have my things and Sally have Jenny’s and it will only be the boys who will have to have new things for the winter – and Ruth, of course.’
Charlie drew in a deep breath. ‘I don’t say that it won’t cut me to the quick to see you in Maeve’s things, but if she were beside me this moment she would berate me for being stupid. She has no need of clothes and you have, you all have, so take what you need and I will learn to deal with it.’
Charlie’s eyes were like pools of pain and Meg cried, ‘Oh, Dad, are you sure?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘I’m not sure of anything much anymore, Meg,’ he said. ‘But I do know that it’s the sensible thing to do. Oh, Meg, Meg, I’ve been little help to you these past weeks.’
‘Oh, Dad, don’t,’ Meg said, embarrassed.
‘I know I’ve been selfish,’ Charlie said, ‘and I don’t blame you looking like that. My brothers have both been on about how I was behaving, but somehow I couldn’t see any way forward and drinking blurred it a bit. I missed your mother so much, and then the child … every time I looked at her, it brought it all back.’
‘I know, Dad,’ Meg said. ‘I feel Mom’s loss too, but it isn’t Ruth’s fault.’
‘I know that really,’ Charlie said, ‘but somehow I can’t feel for her the way I do about you and the others.’
‘Oh, Dad.’
Charlie looked at the tears sparkling in his daughter’s eyes. ‘Don’t take on, old girl,’ he said. ‘I’m doing my best and I’m determined to change. I reckon I have wallowed in grief long enough. Time to take up the reins again.’
Meg was delighted to hear her father’s words; if he meant them, their way forward would be easier. She thought of saying more about Ruth, but in the end said nothing. If he
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