Heroine Of Her Own Life

2. The Shipyard-4

On the top of the crowded tram, Lillian swayed as she bent over the seated Meg to ask, “Why not come to our football match tomorrow? We can have a meal after. It’s only up the road at Windsor Park. The fresh air will do you good.”

Lillian had become a bit of a joke to Meg’s sisters when she took up ladies’ football as an adolescent, but Meg had been grateful for her skills in the chaos of the shipyard that morning.

“Thanks. I would, but I’m going with David to walk his dogs, you know, for his job.”

“You two can tramp for miles. Off to Donegal and back, are you?”

“Not quite, we’re due to take the train to Portrush and walk to Portstewart and back.”

“Portstewart? I’ve an auntie and cousin up there. My aunt’s the postmistress.”

“Aye, I remember now— you go up there for your holidays.”

“Agnes Kerr, she’s my mother’s sister—the family are from there. Stop in and say hello. Auntie Agnes and Cousin Alice live above the post office. But Meg, don’t tell your sisters about my match tomorrow, especially your Annie.” Lillian, colour restored, winked at her friend, making Meg laugh.

She remembered that while her three older sisters made affectionate fun of Lillian and her football, Annie probed the subject without mercy.

“Here’s my call,” said Lillian before she turned and rushed to the stairs.

“Enjoy your match tomorrow,” shouted Meg.

Just before climbing down the stairs, Lillian shouted, “Enjoy the walk. Say hiya to Portstewart for me.”

Meg waved, but her smile quickly disappeared. After Lillian climbed off the tram, Meg watched her walk down the street until the tram sped away. She thought about Lillian Watson—who’d been allowed to stay in school until she was sixteen—and her family holidays. While the jolly Watsons—Lillian, her sister Beryl, their mother, and father— were able to afford train fare for holidays, and made a point of doing so; such outings were out of the question for the dour Prestons.

Worry seized her that Lillian had heard what those rough women had shouted at her. Meg had never talked to Lillian about the lingering harm Amy had done her with gossip, let alone Amy’s and Bill’s attack. Other girls, once friends, had stopped talking to her years ago.

Lillian’s remained a true friend, and yet, she must have heard the rumours, mustn’t she?

Meg tried to cheer herself with the fact that she and her brother were due for an outing the next day, but she could find no cheer, only worry and the memory of the man’s pulpy face and bloodied hair. Quickly she pulled the bell cord to stop the swaying tram as her stomach turned.