Sister's Trio Squad

Chapter 34

Chapter 34

"Then you must do as you're told, but you can call me Ma when he's out.' They'd had a long discussion over just what Ellen would call her. She'd found out from Lewis that he'd always insisted on both girls calling their mother either Mama or Mother. She'd told Ellen that if she didn't feel as though she could call her Mother, then she must call her Step-Mother.

'Step-Mother!' Ellen had echoed. "That always sounds so wicked, like in the fairy stories. I'll call 'Are you sure?' you Ma.'

For a reply, Ellen had hugged her and she had laughed. Ellen was a little precocious but she had a warm, affection ate nature and now that she felt secure and loved, she was a bright, pleasant child with an open, forthright manner and generous nature. Although she could be stubborn and wilful at times.

'Now will you go away! Oh, Lord! She's here and she's

got Ernest with her!'

Ellen screwed up her nose as though smelling something unpleasant and then disappeared. With a last pat to her hair, Margaret went into the

hall to greet them.

Elizabeth didn't acknowledge her greeting, but Ernest muttered something she took to be 'Good Afternoon'. It didn't help that Elizabeth, once she had thrown her fur-trimmed coat carelessly over a chair, was wearing a dress in the identical shade to her own. The fact that she wore pearls while Elizabeth wore three strands of dark brown beads, resembling small nuts, did not go unnoticed either.

'So, you've finally asked us here to tell us what we had to hear from strangers!'

'Surely not strangers, Elizabeth?"

'Outsiders then! We're not used to being treated like this, are we, Ernest? But I expect we'll have to get used to it. Obviously you have no conception of etiquette let alone common, ordinary manners!' The word 'common' was emphasized.

Margaret ignored it. I'm truly sorry, but Ellen got quite carried away. You can be sure your father has spoken to her about how mistaken her behaviour was. She's very impetuous and I've also told her how hurtful her behaviour must be to you both.'

"That child will be nothing but trouble, you mark my

words!'

'She's been as good as gold and her school report is

excellent.'

'Where is my father?"

'At work.'

'Hasn't he got the nerve to face me himself?'

'Yes, but it was I who talked him out of it. I thought that just you and I should sit down and talk. I didn't know Ernest would be coming as well."

'What is there to talk about? Seeing that Ellen has broadcast it from the rooftops, the whole neighbourhood already knows you're to be the second Mrs Vannin! It's a wonder you didn't put it in the Liverpool Echo and the Walton Times, and I don't see that there's anything to talk about, we have absolutely nothing in common!'

We have your father and his welfare in common.' Margaret had known it wouldn't be easy, but she could see that Elizabeth wasn't going to be placated.

'Not really. I have my own husband and my own household!'

'Don't you care about your father at all?"

For the first time Elizabeth looked discomforted. 'Of course I do. We both do, don't we Ernest? We only want what's best for him.'

'We do, dear, you're right.'

It was the first time she'd heard Ernest Winskill string more than two words together. And you don't think I'm what is best for him, do you? Please, let's be honest, at least then we'll both know where we stand.'

'No, I don't! We don't know where you come from, what kind of a family you have - except of course that awful pair that Father threw out!'

That I threw out! I don't consider them family!' Margaret stood up. She had intended to make an effort with Elizabeth but now she considered it futile. She didn't like her at all and the feeling was mutual. Elizabeth was a spoiled, selfish snob. 'I come from a decent family. My father had his own business and was a respected citizen of Clonmel, which is where I come from."

'I thought as much. The daughter of a small-time mer chant in some God-forsaken town in the sticks and in that dreadful country where they are always butchering someone!'

Although she had vowed to stay calm no matter what the provocation, she felt her temper beginning to rise. Just who did Clizabeth Winskill think she was? Her manners were appalling and she certainly couldn't be called Christian, not by a long stretch of the imaNancytion. The fact that Elizabeth had had more money than she, certainly hadn't made her a better person. 'If you cared to read the papers, you would know that Ireland is in

the middle of a civil war and that before that we suffered four years of war and destruction at the hands of people like you!"

Elizabeth wasn't a complete fool. She read the danger signs and realized that she was treading on unsafe ground and that she wasn't in possession of all the facts on the 'Irish Question' as her father always termed it. "Well, that's as may be, but we haven't come here to discuss politics!

'No, I asked you here to say that I hope we can at least be civil to each other, for your father's sake. We'll never be friends, I see that now, although I had hoped it would be different. But you resent me too much.'

What Elizabeth resented was not so much that Margaret O'Maxwell was becoming Margaret Vannin, as the extent to which she depended on her father for her expenses. Expenses that Ernest's salary didn't stretch to and which she wouldn't give up without a fight. She'd never taken much notice of Margaret when she'd only been housekeeper, but now she was seeing an astute young woman with a mind and a brain she suspected to be far

more agile than her own. 'Elizabeth never expected her father to marry again. It's been a shock.'

'I'm sure it has, Ernest.' Margaret smiled at him and he smiled back. He was pleasant enough, but totally dominated by his wife. And it takes time to get over such shocks but I... we hope that you'll continue to

visit us, after all this is your home." She had the nerve to patronize her, Elizabeth thought. "This has never been my home since the day I married, and especially after my mother, God rest her, died!'

Margaret ignored the slight. You will be coming to the wedding?'

Elizabeth sniffed disdainfully and Ernest opened his

mouth as if to reply and then thought better of it. 'It would look very strange if you were both missing. My mother and brother are coming over from Ireland, both my sisters will be here and Ellen is hoping her father will relent and allow her to be bridesmaid." 'Bridesmaid! I've never heard anything so utterly

utterly... farcical! He's old enough to be your father and you want to turn it into an even worse spectacle by having that little wretch as bridesmaid! We'll be the laughing stock of the whole district.'

Margaret bit back the words that sprang to her lips. "That was the same argument both your father and I used. But we have promised she can carry a small posy and have a new dress. Ellen will get over it. Will you be coming?' she persisted, although she couldn't have cared less whether they came or not, in fact she could imagine how Nancy would react to Elizabeth. They'd probably come to blows. 'Oh, I suppose so, but only so as not to let father down.'

'Good. I'll have Violet bring some tea in now that that's settled.'

"That won't be necessary, we have to go. Ernest has a

very important meeting and I have a hair appointment."

As you wish. I'll see you both next Friday then. Three

o'clock at the Blessed Sacrement and then back here for

a family meal.'

Elizabeth got up, smoothing down her skirt. 'My coat, Ernest.'

He dutifully helped her into it and followed her out.

Margaret stood at the front door watching them as they descended the steps and Ernest solicitously helped his wife into the car. Well, if Madam Elizabeth thought she could come running up here every time she wanted money for some frippery or other, she was in for a shock. She'd soon find out that Margaret wasn't one to lie down and be walked all over like Ernest Winskill!

They'd all gone to see Lisa off. Andy, Bernie, Archie and Eileen. Bernie had laughed and said anyone would

think she were going off to Australia or somewhere instead of just Liverpool for a couple of days. She settled back in her seat, thinking of the last time she'd made this journey. Oh, there was so much she had to tell the family and she was dying to see them and hear all their news and gossip.

She felt quite smart, thinking that the new hat she'd bought toned in quite nicely with her tweed coat. The hat was pale grey trimmed with a large black bow and she wore Eileen's white blouse and the new red skirt Bernie had persuaded her to buy. She wasn't at all sure about the skirt. Red was a colour she never wore as it clashed with her hair, but Bernie had said that with it being a skirt, not a dress, it would look just fine and that she was going to a wedding not a wake, and it did brighten up her outfit. She'd had to borrow some money from Andy and she hadn't liked that. She'd been laid off again at the factory for a few weeks. 'It's just a slack time right now. It'll pick up again soon enough,' Robbie Frazer had told her. But she was getting rather depressed; she wanted a permanent, steady job.

Andy had just laughed at her protestations that she'd pay him back next pay day, but she still felt badly about it, although he'd never bought her a present in all the time they'd been courting. Not even on her birthday. He'd taken her out to the Waverley Hotel instead, which Bernie insistedwas far grander than some trinket from Woolworths. She had also said that it wasn't strange that he'd never bought her anything. For one thing there wasn't the money to spare and for another the men she knew didn't buy flowers and the like. Archie said men who bought flowers were 'Jessie's'.

Lisa looked down at her feet. There hadn't been enough money for new shoes, so she'd polished up her old ones as best she could, but they looked scuffed and worn. She could only hope no one would notice. Nancy was sure to be dressed to kill and anyway everyone would be looking at Margaret. Besides, she wasn't earning a fortune and she wasn't marrying someone with money. That turned her thoughts to Andy. She wasn't marrying anyone. She began to think about her relationship with him, but finding it unproductive and depressing, she fell back on her usual method of blocking out her predicament, spinning a web of romantic daydreams as the train sped southwards towards the Border Country.

She was going to be late if she didn't hurry herself up. Nancy looked at the clock. If she were going to catch the train from Euston, Edward should have been here by now. She glanced in the mirror. She would have loved to have gone in the beautiful sable coat that she'd seen in Harrods window, but then probably even Lewis Vannin's money wouldn't have run to the price they were asking for it. Her sage green, wool coat - the collar and cuffs trimmed with fur would have to do. Underneath she wore a dress of a paler shade of green and over her short, shining hair she wore a cloche hat of pale green velour. She was quite satisfied with her appearance and was certain she'd outshine everyone else, except Margaret. It wouldn't do to take Margaret's glory away from her and if she knew her sister, she'd have chosen something extra-special for the occasion. Especially now that expense need not be spared. 

'Nancy! Nancy!' Rose Weston's voice rang through the house.

Edward must have arrived. She snatched up her hand bag and the small overnight bag she'd bought and ran down the stairs. Where have you been? If we don't hurry I'll miss my train."

He wasn't smiling. In fact he looked ominously serious. 'Come out to the car.' He took her bag and her arm and led her to the car and settled her inside. 'What's the matter?'

He lit a cigarette. 'George phoned me. I've been with him. Anne Robins, Delia's understudy, has been hurt in an accident, and as you had the good luck to be made second understudy, tonight the stage is all yours - if you want it. Delia herself isn't feeling well.'

'If I want it! Oh, you know I do!' This was a chance in a million. Delia ill, too. Of course, Delia wasn't as young as she used to be and she was probably tired out..

'What about the wedding?'

'Oh, Damn!'