Love Me Tender. Anne Bennett
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Bridie said gloomily one day, and added, ‘I suppose our soldiers will be fed all right and it won’t matter if the rest of us starve.’
‘I don’t think it will come to that,’ Kathy said. ‘And at least with rationing it will be fair; rich or poor will all have the same.’
‘Huh, we’ll see.’
Kathy couldn’t make Bridie out; she never seemed happy about anything or anyone. She decided to change the subject. ‘Have you heard from Pat at all?’ she said.
‘Aye, though he never has much to say.’
‘Their letters are censored, I suppose,’ Kathy said. ‘Though Barry is usually able to drag up something to amuse the weans.’
‘He writes to the weans?’
‘Aye, he always includes a wee note, you know. They miss him so much, especially Lizzie.’
Bridie gave a snort of disgust and said, ‘If you ask me, he spoils that girl.’
‘I didn’t ask you.’
‘Well, if I can’t express an opinion…’ said Bridie, rising to her feet.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Kathy. ‘I’m all on edge, worry I suppose, and with Christmas nearly on us and hardly anything in the shops it’ll be a lean one this year, and strange without Barry.’
The conversation was cut short by the children bursting through the door, Lizzie dragging Maura Mahon after her. ‘Maura,’ said Kathy, addressing the child in surprise, ‘I thought you were away?’
‘I was, Mrs O’Malley,’ Maura replied. ‘Mammy came to fetch me home. She said there was no point in it.’
‘Your mammy told me you were staying just outside Stratford.’
‘Aye, a tiny wee place called Preston upon Stour.’
‘And did you like it?’
‘No, I didn’t, no one likes it, not even the teachers,’ Maura said vehemently. ‘It was cold and damp all the time and there was nowhere to go and nothing to do.’
‘So the country isn’t nice then?’ Lizzie asked.
‘No it ain’t, it’s blooming awful,’ Maura declared. ‘Mammy says I haven’t to go back.’
Lizzie didn’t care why or how Maura had come back; she was here and that was all that mattered. Her prayers had been answered. Life was almost back to normal again and if only her daddy was home, it would be nearly perfect.
The rationing of basic foodstuffs began on Monday 8 January that year, with every person allowed four ounces each of bacon, sugar and butter per week. Kathy knew it was only the beginning, and she wondered how she would stretch it all to last. She herself was allowed extras like orange juice, cod liver oil and vitamins, because she was pregnant again. She was glad in a way because she still pined for the baby she’d lost, but her pleasure in a new life beginning inside her was tinged with trepidation. She thought back to her last pregnancy, which had been trouble free at first. There had been no reason at all for her little son Seamus to be born so prematurely. ‘Just one of those things,’ the doctors had told her, which was no help at all. She was terrified of it happening again and this time Barry wouldn’t be there beside her either. But then it was no use worrying. Weren’t they all in God’s hand at the end of all? And yet another mouth to feed on army pay would not be easy. Barry had earned good money making guns at BSA, especially with the overtime he was almost forced to work, but now, as a serving soldier, his pay was substantially reduced and Kathy was glad she’d been prudent enough to save some of his earnings in the post office. Eamonn said it was scandalous that men fighting for their country were so undervalued, but nothing could be done.
Kathy was amazed and pleased to find that both Rose and Maggie were pregnant too, all three babies due in late July. Sharing their pregnancy pulled them closer together, but Bridie, as soon as she discovered it, would be ready with the cutting remarks Kathy knew only too well. She found out one day in late January when they were all together in Mary’s house and she overheard Kathy discussing morning sickness with Rose.
‘God in heaven!’ she exclaimed. ‘Are you on again?’
Kathy stared at her sister-in-law. Though she’d told Rose and Maggie and her parents, she’d dreaded telling Bridie. ‘Aye, aye I am,’ she said, almost defiantly.
‘Well, what kind of a bloody fool are you?’ Bridie burst out. ‘Christ, as if you haven’t enough on your plate.’
‘I’m only having a baby, for heaven’s sake, like plenty more.’
‘Aye, and there’s a war on, in case you haven’t noticed.’
‘Leave her be,’ Rose said. ‘Like Kathy said, she’s not the only one.’
‘Not you and all,’ Bridie exclaimed. ‘Mother of God, what’s the matter with the pair of you? And as for you,’ she said, addressing Rose directly, ‘what are you trying to do, populate the whole of the bleeding earth by yourself? I mean, Pete’s only three and Nuala just a baby herself.’ She shrugged and went on. ‘Well, if you want to go through life with a clutch of children hanging on to your skirt, that’s your look-out.’
‘That’s right, it’s our business,’ Maggie broke in. ‘You live your life and we’ll live ours. And you might as well know, I’m expecting as well, so what are you going to say to me?’
Bridie gave a mirthless laugh and said, ‘Well, all I’ll say is that your old man must have plenty of lead in his pencil.’
‘Bridie!’ Mary cried. ‘Less of that talk.’
But Bridie wasn’t finished. ‘Unless, of course, the wedding was rushed forward for a reason.’
‘You malicious cow!’ Maggie cried. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, let me tell you, my baby is due on the thirtieth of July. Not everyone’s the same as you, you know.’
‘What d’you mean?’ Bridie snapped.
‘Well you didn’t wait till the ring was on your finger, did you?’
Bridie was white with fury. The reason for her rushed marriage had been covered up and Maggie had only been a child then, so it must have been discussed by them all since. She glared over at Kathy and Maggie cried, ‘Don’t be blaming anyone, Bridie. No one said a word to me, but I’m not stupid. I was eleven years old and well able to count to nine, but you’d only been married six months when Sheelagh appeared. Now treat me like a bloody simpleton why don’t you, and tell me she was premature?’
‘Come on now,’ Mary said, flustered by the way the whole conversation was going. ‘Let’s not have all this snapping and snarling at one another, but save our bad temper for the enemy.’
Bridie for once had nothing to say. She threw them all a look of pure hatred and flounced out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Later, Mary said to Kathy, ‘I wonder if she’s jealous of you all. I mean, there’s been no sign since young Matt. Maybe she wants one herself and that’s what makes her so crabby at times.’
‘I think she was just born that way, Mammy,’ Kathy said. She thought over what Barry had told her before he left and went on, ‘and I don’t think she wants any more but the two she has, not really.’
A few months later, the three expectant mothers listened, horrified, to the news that Hitler had invaded France, not through the Maginot Line that the French had thought impregnable, but through Belgium. German paratroopers had blasted their way through the Belgian defences, and the road through the country lay wide open.
It soon became clear that many soldiers of the British Expeditionary Force were trapped on the shores of France, and when the news finally broke on 31 May, Operation Dynamo was revealed. Many small, privately owned boats of all shapes and sizes were pressed into service to run a shuttle