like hitting him and he knew he could have floored him easily but he wouldn’t humiliate Mary further.
‘Goodnight, Mary,’ he said coldly and turned away abruptly.
‘Goodnight, Richie, and thanks,’ Mary said grimly. Without looking at her husband, she turned and walked the remaining yards to her own home. She was seething inside.
Chapter Four
T HERE HAD BEEN NO further conversation between them. Cutting his nose off to spite his face, Frank had gone straight to bed without any supper. Mary, with her face set with suppressed anger, had unpacked her shopping and had then started to mend the jacket and blouse.
It had been very late when she had finally gone to bed, leaving the jacket draped over the back of a wooden kitchen chair and the blouse that she had washed and starched in front of the dying fire to dry.
She awoke with a slight headache but resolved that she was going to enjoy the day, come what may.
The kitchen was clean, tidy and warm when Frank and the children got up to a breakfast of fried salt fish, eggs and bread and butter, a rare treat. The food seemed to put Frank in a better humour.
‘Well, this is a treat. This is what I call a breakfast,’ he said with some satisfaction, attacking the fish. Perhaps she was trying to make up for her behaviour last night, he thought, but he still didn’t trust that Richie Seddon. He’d be keeping his eye on him today. However, it certainly was a good breakfast and the bits of rags she’d bought at Paddy’s Market looked well on her. He was looking forward to the day. Plenty of food and drink and all free. Oh, he was going to make the most of it all right. He deserved a bit of enjoyment.
By ten o’clock they were ready to go and Mary had to admit they all looked smart, herself included. Maggie still didn’t look well though, she thought as the old woman appeared dressed in a black skirt and blouse over which she wore a three-quarter-length coat of black wool that had seen better days but was what she always wore for church. The outfit was completed by an out-of-shape black felt hat.
‘Don’t you look smart, Mary!’
‘Thanks, Maggie. It took me half the night to get this stuff ready but it was worth it.’ The blue and green tartan jacket looked very well with her dark blue skirt and the blouse, with its high starched collar that emphasised her long slim neck, made her skin seem almost translucent. She had piled her hair up on top of her head in the fashionable cottage-loaf style. The only thing that marred her satisfaction with her appearance was the fact that as she had no hat and she couldn’t appear in church with her head uncovered, she would have to wear her shawl over the new outfit. Still, she would carry it over her arm until they got to church.
‘We’d better get along to St Anthony’s or we’ll be walking with the bride,’ Maggie stated, ushering the children towards the door.
The Joneses had no money for carriages so Violet and her father would walk to church as many brides did. None of them minded; it was a chance to show off their wedding finery to the neighbours.
The church was full and Mary noticed that all the women had made a big effort to turn themselves and their families out as decently as they could. She also noticed with annoyance that Hetty Price had far outdone both the bride and her mother in an eye-catching cherry-red costume trimmed with black braid and a matching red and black wide-brimmed hat. Trust her. Why couldn’t she have had a bit more sensitivity and kept the obviously new outfit for Christmas Day? Katie was eyeing Millie’s new green coat and hat and black buttoned boots with envy.
But Mary forgot her irritation as the notes of the organ thundered out and Violet, resplendent in a pale blue fine wool dress and Sally Price’s blue and white hat, trimmed with ribbon and artificial flowers, walked up the aisle on her father’s arm, smiling and nodding at
‘Goodnight, Mary,’ he said coldly and turned away abruptly.
‘Goodnight, Richie, and thanks,’ Mary said grimly. Without looking at her husband, she turned and walked the remaining yards to her own home. She was seething inside.
Chapter Four
T HERE HAD BEEN NO further conversation between them. Cutting his nose off to spite his face, Frank had gone straight to bed without any supper. Mary, with her face set with suppressed anger, had unpacked her shopping and had then started to mend the jacket and blouse.
It had been very late when she had finally gone to bed, leaving the jacket draped over the back of a wooden kitchen chair and the blouse that she had washed and starched in front of the dying fire to dry.
She awoke with a slight headache but resolved that she was going to enjoy the day, come what may.
The kitchen was clean, tidy and warm when Frank and the children got up to a breakfast of fried salt fish, eggs and bread and butter, a rare treat. The food seemed to put Frank in a better humour.
‘Well, this is a treat. This is what I call a breakfast,’ he said with some satisfaction, attacking the fish. Perhaps she was trying to make up for her behaviour last night, he thought, but he still didn’t trust that Richie Seddon. He’d be keeping his eye on him today. However, it certainly was a good breakfast and the bits of rags she’d bought at Paddy’s Market looked well on her. He was looking forward to the day. Plenty of food and drink and all free. Oh, he was going to make the most of it all right. He deserved a bit of enjoyment.
By ten o’clock they were ready to go and Mary had to admit they all looked smart, herself included. Maggie still didn’t look well though, she thought as the old woman appeared dressed in a black skirt and blouse over which she wore a three-quarter-length coat of black wool that had seen better days but was what she always wore for church. The outfit was completed by an out-of-shape black felt hat.
‘Don’t you look smart, Mary!’
‘Thanks, Maggie. It took me half the night to get this stuff ready but it was worth it.’ The blue and green tartan jacket looked very well with her dark blue skirt and the blouse, with its high starched collar that emphasised her long slim neck, made her skin seem almost translucent. She had piled her hair up on top of her head in the fashionable cottage-loaf style. The only thing that marred her satisfaction with her appearance was the fact that as she had no hat and she couldn’t appear in church with her head uncovered, she would have to wear her shawl over the new outfit. Still, she would carry it over her arm until they got to church.
‘We’d better get along to St Anthony’s or we’ll be walking with the bride,’ Maggie stated, ushering the children towards the door.
The Joneses had no money for carriages so Violet and her father would walk to church as many brides did. None of them minded; it was a chance to show off their wedding finery to the neighbours.
The church was full and Mary noticed that all the women had made a big effort to turn themselves and their families out as decently as they could. She also noticed with annoyance that Hetty Price had far outdone both the bride and her mother in an eye-catching cherry-red costume trimmed with black braid and a matching red and black wide-brimmed hat. Trust her. Why couldn’t she have had a bit more sensitivity and kept the obviously new outfit for Christmas Day? Katie was eyeing Millie’s new green coat and hat and black buttoned boots with envy.
But Mary forgot her irritation as the notes of the organ thundered out and Violet, resplendent in a pale blue fine wool dress and Sally Price’s blue and white hat, trimmed with ribbon and artificial flowers, walked up the aisle on her father’s arm, smiling and nodding at
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