Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit. Anne Bennett
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the very devil of it,’ Stan said. ‘We were both helpless.’
‘Yes, we were,’ Paul said. ‘However, this situation cannot be allowed to continue. Unfortunately, I am tied up all over Christmas and into the New Year, but in the spring, when the weather is a little more conducive to crossing the sea, I will go over and see the situation first-hand.’
Stan had been so relieved, but before that plan could be put into action, he received another letter from Molly at the very start of the New Year.
She never mentioned her grandmother, though she said a lot about Tom, the kindness of the townsfolk, her friendship with the McEvoys and particularly her best friend and ally, Cathy, who had devised this plan on how to keep in contact.
When Molly received the first letter back from her granddad she felt his love and concern for her could almost be lifted from the page. Kevin had drawn her a picture he had obviously signed all on his own and it was of their old house and all of them in it, including their parents. It saddened Molly and she was glad to turn to Hilda’s letter. The woman always had the ability to make her smile and, as she wrote as she spoke, it was just like having her in the room.
In rural Ireland, particularly on the farm, one day seemed very like another to Molly, and it was hard for her to visualise what was happening in other places, particularly the city she had been born in. When Molly had left Birmingham it had been a very depressed city in many ways, and from what her grandfather told her in his letters in 1936, it was in no better shape.
And then, in late January, the King died. Molly remembered the dour, bewhiskered King, whose picture had been plastered everywhere in Birmingham in the weeks prior to his Jubilee celebrations the previous year.
No one in Ireland was the least bit bothered about which king or queen would be sitting on the throne in England, but it seemed that those in Birmingham at least had a lot to say about it. They weren’t that concerned about the old King dying so much as who was to succeed him and that was to be his handsome and flamboyant son Edward, who would then be known as Edward VIII.
‘Handsome is as handsome does, I always say,’ Hilda wrote in her letter.
The point is he is too flippant in my opinion to be a good ruler. Never taken his duties that serious, like, and now that he is the King he will have to show what he is made of. The first thing he will have to do is dump that American divorcee Wallace Simpson that seems intent on hanging on to his coattails. His days of gallivanting around the world with her are gone and the sooner he realises that the better it will be for everyone.
Molly’s granddad said much the same, but it seemed the new King had no intention of knuckling down like people expected him to. Even the Irish papers had got hold of the story in the end.
‘He is handsome, you have to admit,’ Cathy said one Sunday in early February. She had the Irish Times spread out on her bed and both girls had been scrutinising it.
‘Oh, I think everyone agrees with that,’ Molly said. ‘But as Hilda said, being good-looking doesn’t mean he will be a good king. And he can’t have that woman as the Queen,’ she said, jabbing her finger at Edward’s escort who was gazing up at him with adoring eyes, though, even through the grainy newsprint, Molly thought her eyes looked calculating. ‘I mean, she’s another handsome one. Beautiful, in fact, and up to the minute with fashion, might even be really nice, but none of that will matter because the British people will never accept her. Queen Wallace, can you imagine?’
Cathy laughed. ‘Doesn’t sound quite right, I must admit, but we could talk about it till the cows come home and it won’t make a bit of difference. And meanwhile, there is something else happening next week that I think will prove to be far more entertaining – like your birthday, for instance.’
‘Yeah, and thanks to you I will have cards from everyone,’ Molly said. ‘I know I can’t put them up or anything, but I will get them and that is more than I had at Christmas. I’m so grateful for you all doing this, Cathy, you having the idea in the first place and your parents providing the wherewithal. I don’t know if you realise how much I appreciate it.’
‘Course we realise,’ Cathy said. ‘You have told us enough times. Didn’t Daddy say last time you started on that if he heard one more thank you from you then you could buy your own stamps.’
Molly smiled. ‘Yes, he did.’
‘Well then, think on,’ Cathy said, jumping to her feet. ‘Come on, let’s go to Swan Park and see if the snowdrops and crocuses are out yet like Bernadette said they were.’
‘You’re on,’ Molly said, knowing that in the main it was always wiser to fall in with Cathy’s plans.
However, Molly had a surprise awaiting her the following week. Stan had been to see Paul Simmons on receipt of Molly’s letter outlining the new arrangements to ensure that she received her mail, and Paul was irritated by the subterfuge and thought it sounded draconian to deprive an orphaned child of letters from family and friends.
‘She says nothing about that,’ Stan said. ‘But I know she is not happy. I have known my granddaughter for nearly fourteen years and she can’t fool me. I reckon she will be back here as soon as she is able.’
‘She will need money for that.’
‘There is the fund you set up for her,’ Stan said. ‘I told the grandmother nothing about it for I know whose pocket it would have lined, and Molly knows nothing about it either, of course.’
‘Maybe she should be told now then,’ Paul said. ‘From what I remember she is a mature and sensible girl. Ted was always on about her, on about you all. Great family man, was Ted.’
‘Aye, he was.’
‘Tragic loss.’
‘Aye.’
‘This will never do,’ Paul said impatiently. ‘Going all melancholy when it should be Molly we are thinking of. You say she is nearly fourteen?’
‘Aye, twelfth of February.’
‘Yes, well,’ said Paul. ‘While it is good for her to know that there will be money accrued for her for when she is twenty-one, that can seem an age away when you are fourteen. I think I will arrange for her to have some money of her own and a fourteenth birthday seems just about the right time to do that.’
‘It is so very kind of you,’ Stan said. ‘There just aren’t words.’
‘You don’t need any words,’ Paul said. ‘I am a rich man and it pleases me to do this. And I wouldn’t be here to enjoy those riches and gladden my parents’ hearts if it hadn’t been for Ted. That debt will not be repaid while one of his family is in any sort of need, and that is Molly at the moment.’
‘Paul Simmons is the most generous, open-hearted and genuine man I have ever met,’ Stan said to Hilda later. ‘I tell you, it would have been a terrible tragedy if he had died on the battlefield.’
‘I agree,’ Hilda said. ‘Thank God he didn’t.’
Molly was excited as she made her way to Cathy’s house the following Sunday because she was looking forward to seeing the cards she knew would be waiting for her. Since the system had begun she would have her letters written by the time she arrived for Sunday tea so that she might not waste any of the time she spent with Cathy. Cathy would post the letters first thing on Monday morning so that they would arrive in Birmingham on Tuesday or Wednesday. Hilda and her granddad would write straight back and they would reach Buncrana post office by Friday or Saturday at the latest.
Molly was so glad to receive the replies, though they often reduced her to tears. If she could, she would wait till she reached the farm to read them and then she would then reread them over and over until she could repeat them word for word.
She was surprised to find four envelopes and one in a handwriting she didn’t recognise waiting for her that day, and as it was a special day she decided to open the letters there. Nellie and Jack had come to watch.