‘Go on,’ she said more gently. ‘I’ll bring you a drink up soon.’
‘Ta, Kit,’ Tommy said, looking miserable. Then, in a low voice, milking his sister’s sympathy for all it was worth, he added, ‘It was probably making me get that wash that did it.’
‘What’s the matter, Spud?’ Jack, just coming through the door, was surprised his little brother did not raise a smile when he produced his weekly comic.
‘He’s not feeling well; he’s got another one of his sore throats.’ Kitty felt guilty for scolding Tommy earlier. ‘I got a couple of lemons from the shop. I’ll make him a hot drink.’
‘In this weather!’ Tommy exclaimed in a croaky, despondent voice. ‘I’ll melt.’ Then, without another word, he climbed the stairs to the middle bedroom he shared with Danny. Dad had the back room since Mam died, and Kitty had the big front bedroom containing just a single bed, a small table for the alarm clock and a chest of drawers for her meagre amount of clothing.
‘That’s a lovely cake, Kit,’ Jack said, taking off his cap, his jacket slung over his shoulder. He and his father nodded warily to each other as Jack entered the kitchen. ‘Did you make it?’
Jack was now a well-paid shipwright at Harland and Wolff’s foundry and marine repair works in Strand Road.
Every payday Jack put his wages on the table, and Kitty gave him back his spends. Not once did she hear him complain. Work had been scarce for Danny and Dad, and Jack was often the only one providing. Kitty supplemented the coffers with the odd catering job, and made delicious wedding or christening cakes, but although everybody around came to her, she could not charge inflated prices to people she knew were in the same boat as herself.
‘Aye,’ Kitty answered proudly, gazing at the cake she had moved to the sideboard for safety. She could feel her face flush warmly; it wasn’t very often she got a compliment in this house. ‘I’m going to take it over to Aunty Dolly’s later.’
‘You’ve surpassed yourself, Kit!’ Danny smiled.
‘Will you stay for your tea today, Jack?’ He didn’t always, and Kitty sneaked a look at her father whose head was still buried in the Echo.
‘Would be a shame to waste it.’ He answered her after a pause, and gave her a grin. It must have been one of their good days, thought Kitty, and pulled a seat out for her brother, taking his cap and jacket and hooking them on a peg behind the door.
‘If you wait until I’ve finished my tea,’ Jack said, sitting down to the table for his evening meal, after which he’d go back to his digs, ‘I’ll carry it over for you.’
It would be nice to have a chat with Aunty Dolly and Pop. Maybe, he thought, trying to suppress a warm smile, Rita would be there too …
‘It’s only us,’ Kitty called up the narrow passageway everybody referred to as a lobby, following Jack, who was carrying Nancy’s wedding cakes in three individual boxes, which Nancy had purchased specially from George Henry Lee.
‘Come in, Jack, and you, Kit.’ Rita shooed the sleeping cat off the chair and Kitty was surprised to see the kitchen almost full.
‘Oh, Mam, you didn’t tell us Kitty was bringing the cake over. Put it on the table here, Kit, so we can get a good look at it,’ said Nancy.
‘Hello, Jack, how are you?’ Rita, married now to Charlie Kennedy, gave a friendly smile as she tried to disengage her son, who was six years old, and his five-year-old sister from her skirt where they were playing a chasing game. There was only fifteen months between the two children and Michael was the image of his mother, with flame-red hair, though his eyes were hazel, unlike her green ones. Megan’s hair was fairer and she favoured her father’s looks.
‘All the better for seeing you, Rita.’ Jack gave her a warm smile. Despite herself, Rita felt herself blush. She and Jack went back a long way. Before she married Charlie, she and Jack had been walking out together. But that had all been a long time ago, she reminded herself. They’d been little more than kids. Now she was married to Charlie with two children. It was best to look forward and not back.
‘It looks like you’ve got your hands full there, Rita,’ Kitty said as she placed one of the boxes on the table ready for the family inspection. She felt nervous suddenly. She did hope they liked it. Nancy especially.
‘They never give me a minute.’ Rita’s laugh was easy-going, practised, and Kitty marvelled at her ability to snap on a smile at a moment’s notice. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without them, though.’
‘They’re thriving, Rita, and it’s a credit to you,’ Jack said.
Rita found it hard to meet his eyes and brushed off his compliment. ‘Thanks, Jack, they’re good kids. Let’s hope there isn’t a war. I couldn’t bear to part with them.’
Thinking of Tommy, Kitty knew exactly what she meant. If Mr Chamberlain decided that this country was going to war with Germany, the children were to be taken away to a place of safety. Kitty had heard the mothers talking in the shops and in the streets around. Many said that they would send their children away to God only knew where only over their own dead bodies. Others said that their children’s safety must come before any personal considerations. It was a choice no mother wanted to make.
‘It’s lovely to see everybody here,’ Kitty smiled as Jack placed the two bigger boxes on the table.
Pop and Dolly nodded with proud appreciation of a full house. ‘Only our Frank missing,’ said Dolly, ‘but he’ll be home tomorrow if he can get leave.’
‘I’d better be off, Dolly. Good to see you all. I’m looking forward to a slice of that cake on Saturday.’
‘Bye, Jack. Mind how you go, now,’ Rita said, as Jack made his way to the door.
‘You too, Reet,’ Jack replied as their eyes met. Rita looked away quickly and then he was gone. But she was aware that Jack had used the same shortening of her name that he’d always done. Jack was the only person that Rita would allow to call her that.
‘Have a seat, Kit.’ Eddy scraped back his chair and offered it to Kitty. A merchant mariner, he had managed to get leave for his sister’s wedding.
‘Hopefully he will get here before Saturday,’ Dolly said, pouring tea into another two cups while Kitty’s heartbeat fluttered at the mention of Frank Feeny.
‘You’re looking well, Kit.’ Eddy’s friendly smile flashed white against a rugged, windblown complexion, enhanced by three years of sea voyages.
‘I’m fine, Eddy.’ Kitty took the cup of tea from Dolly and sat at the table. ‘How’s yourself?’
‘We docked yesterday. I’m joining a new ship down the Pool on Monday.’ He sounded excited and Kitty couldn’t help but notice the pained look on his mother’s face. Kitty knew young men like Eddy were joining the services because they could not get jobs, but around here many had always gone away to sea. The thought of war made her feel sick. There were two million unemployed in this country and it seemed that joining one of the Forces was the only one way to get a decent day’s work. She knew that naval forces had been marshalling for months and the local docks had provided anchorage for ships of many nations.
‘I’ve got salt water in my veins, like Frank … and Pop, of course.’ Eddy looked over to his father, a Royal Navy veteran who had seen action in the Great War. Although he did not talk about it much the proof of all he had been through sat on his handsome face. The dark eye-patch he wore was a daily reminder.
‘You’ll have best bitter running through your veins on Saturday,’ Pop laughed. The Feeny house was always lively and full of laughter.
‘You know,’ Pop