Anne Bennett
Far from Home

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my lovely husband Denis in

recognition for the way he battled lung cancer with

such courage and determination and also for the way

he kept upbeat throughout.

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

One

Kate Munroe’s feet dragged as she reached the house. After…

Two

The next morning, Sally woke with a jerk; she lay…

Three

By the time the three girls reached High Street and…

Four

The following morning, as Susie settled herself in the tram…

Five

Kate knew that if this antagonism her mother had for…

Six

The next morning, Kate got up in a really good…

Seven

Kate and Sally went to town first thing the next…

Eight

Kate was interested in where David’s family lived. He had…

Nine

Kate told Susie all about what had happened at the…

Ten

Phillip Reynard and all young men of a similar age…

Eleven

By the time Kate and David came back from their…

Twelve

Kate told David that he owed it to his family…

Thirteen

David arrived around midday on Sunday 24 December. When Kate…

Fourteen

New Year’s Eve 1939, the first New Year of the…

Fifteen

After Nick and David returned, Kate made a decision to…

Sixteen

Just a few mornings later, Kate was at work when…

Seventeen

Before they were able to find anything out about ARP…

Eighteen

Over the next weeks, as the summer took hold of…

Nineteen

November was only a few days old when Kate got…

Twenty

Four days after David and Nick went back, German bombers,…

Twenty-One

The citizens of Birmingham were not told of the fracturing…

Twenty-Two

The German planes returned the next night but in far…

Twenty-Three

Kate awoke from her drugged sleep some hours later. Her…

Twenty-Four

‘Mammy asks me in every letter when I am going…

Twenty-Five

Kate was unable to go to work until her stitches…

Twenty-Six

The short tram journey home was taken in virtual silence,…

Twenty-Seven

As they travelled to Ireland the following day, Helen wondered…

Twenty-Eight

Only two hours after the three women had left the…

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Books by Anne Bennett

Copyright

About the Publisher

ONE

Kate Munroe’s feet dragged as she reached the house. After a week’s work in the radiator factory she was always tired by Friday and the cold and dank late October evening didn’t help her mood. She was glad of the big, thick, navy coat, the light blue hat pulled on over her dark brown curls, and the matching gloves encasing her hands, which she had saved for weeks to buy.

She sighed with relief as she let herself into the entrance hall out of the biting wind, but it was very dark as she closed the door behind her because there was no light in the hall. ‘I haven’t bothered with the expense of having an electric light installed in here when the gas lamps were taken out,’ the landlady had told her when she moved in. ‘There’s a streetlight just outside, so I thought it would probably be light enough.’

Kate thought that was all very well, but the door into the house was almost solid, so the only light came from a half-moon window right at the top. The house was converted into flats and so the postman would leave any letters there on the hall table for people to help themselves and sometimes in these dark, autumnal days, it was hard to read who the letters were for in such dim light. It was the same that night, and Kate was shifting through the pile of envelopes, scrutinizing them carefully, when suddenly there was a scraping noise from the space under the stairwell and she called out a little nervously, ‘Who’s there?’

There was no answer and, gathering all her courage, Kate called out again, ‘Come on. Come out and show yourself.’

Through the shadowy dimness, she saw a figure emerge and move towards her. She relaxed a little: it was obvious from the outline that the figure was female and slight, but it was not until she got up close that Kate gasped in recognition. Her dark brown eyes were looking straight into the anxious blue ones of her young sister.

‘Sally,’ she cried. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to see you.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Kate said shortly, but suddenly her blood ran like ice in her body and she asked almost fearfully, ‘Are you in some sort of trouble?’

Sally blushed, even in the half-light Kate saw her cheeks darken, but she answered decidedly enough: ‘Not that kind of trouble. Not what you’re thinking.’

In relief, Kate let out the breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. ‘Tell you the truth, Sally, I don’t know what to think,’ she said in exasperation. ‘Let’s get this straight. Is anything wrong at home?’

Sally hung her head and twisted her feet on the floor, as Kate knew she did when she was troubled about something, and mumbled, ‘No, not really.’

‘Well, how “not really”?’ Kate said, feeling that she wanted to shake her younger sister. And then another thought struck her and she said, ‘I suppose Mammy and Daddy know you’re here?’

Sally lifted her head and Kate got her answer by the stricken look in her sister’s face, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. ‘Good God, they don’t, do they?’ she cried. ‘They know nothing about this?’

Sally shook her head and Kate sighed as she snapped, ‘Well, this can’t be gone into in the entrance hall. You’d better come up to the flat. Have you anything with you?’

Sally nodded. ‘The old brown case with the broken lock. It was all there was – I had to wrap a belt around it to keep it shut.’

‘Well, fetch it,’ Kate said. ‘And I hope you are fit enough to carry it, because I have no intention of doing it for you. I live on the second floor.’

They made their way upstairs and Kate listened to her young sister labouring behind her with the large case. Her own mind was teeming with questions; there was no way Sally should be in Birmingham at all and she could see problems ahead. She had obviously left the family farmhouse in Donegal in Northern Ireland in a hurry, without the knowledge or permission of their parents, and Kate had the feeling that she was the one who would be left picking up the pieces of her reckless, young sister’s decision.

She opened the door to her flat. Behind her she heard Sally sigh in relief. Kate ushered her inside and in the glare of the electric light saw her white and anxious face. ‘Look, put your case down and take off your coat,’ she said more kindly. ‘There’s a hook behind the door.’ She crossed the room as she spoke and drew the curtains, cutting out the damp, chilly night. ‘I’ll put the kettle on and make a cup of tea and you can tell me all about it.’

Sally didn’t answer, and when Kate came back into the room with two steaming mugs on a tray, she was standing in the same place. Though she had unbuttoned her coat, she hadn’t taken it off, and as she looked at Kate she asked, ‘Is this all there is?’

Instantly Kate bristled. ‘Yes,’ she said in clipped tones. ‘What did you expect? The Ritz?’

‘No,’ Sally said sulkily. ‘But you said …’

‘I never told you or anyone else that this place was anything better than it is,’ Kate said firmly. ‘And if you thought it was, then that was in your imagination. I’m a working girl, Sally, and this is all I can afford.’

‘So it’s just the one room?’ Sally said, still shocked by the bareness of the place her sister lived in.

‘Basically,’ Kate said. ‘Behind the curtain in the far corner is my bed, and beside that is a chest of drawers for my things with a mirror on top so that it doubles as a dressing table. There are hooks on the wall for anything that needs to be hung up.’ She led the way to two easy chairs in front of the gas fire and placed the tray on the small table between them. ‘Take off your coat and come and sit down.’

Sally obeyed. As she sat down in the chair Kate had indicated, she asked, ‘What about a kitchen?’

‘British kitchens are nothing like cottage kitchens in Ireland,’ Kate said. ‘Here a wee cubbyhole of a place with a couple of gas rings and a few pots and pans and bits of crockery on some rickety shelves passes as a kitchen. But,’ she added as she handed Sally one of the mugs, ‘here I have running water and a proper sink, which is more than I had at home. We even have a bathroom on the next floor down and we can have a bath just by turning on the taps. It has a proper flush toilet that really startled me the first few times I used it.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Sally said. ‘People say they have them in the hotels in the town, but I’ve never had an occasion to go into the hotels, never mind use the toilets.’

‘No, nor me before I came here,’ Kate said. Then she added, ‘This might not look much to you, but, let me tell you, it’s a lap of luxury compared to the place we were reared in. So, now,’ she added, fixing Sally with a steely look, ‘are you going to drink this tea I’ve made and tell me what the hell you are doing here, or are you going to sit there all night criticizing the place I live in?’

Sally felt suddenly ashamed of herself; she swallowed the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her, obediently took a sip of the tea and said, ‘I’m sorry, Kate. Don’t be too cross with me because I’m already feeling that I’ve been really stupid.’

And then she shivered suddenly, and Kate saw tears drip down her cheeks. She said impatiently, ‘Oh come on, Sally, cut out the waterworks. You know that won’t help. You’re cold and hungry too, I expect. You’ll feel a bit better when I have the fire lit.’

‘How will you do that?’ Sally asked, looking at the ugly monstrosity sitting in the hearth.

‘Like this,’ Kate said, and she turned a tap to the side of the fire, lit a match and, with a pop, flames danced at the bottom of the grille. ‘It’s a gas fire,’ she told her sister. ‘And when I come home on a winter’s evening, it has the room warmed in no time. It makes it look cheerier too. Now come on and tell me what this is all about. Did you have a row? Was that it?’

Sally shook her head. ‘No. It was … Oh, I don’t know. I suppose … I suppose I just got fed up.’

Kate stared at her. ‘Sally, you can’t run away from home because you’re fed up,’ she said. ‘God Almighty, we all get fed up – you just have to get on with it. And what exactly were you fed up about?’

‘You know,’ Sally said. ‘Being at the beck and call of Mammy really. It’s “Sally do this” and “Sally do that” morning, noon and night. But nothing I do pleases her.’

Kate laughed. ‘That’s just Mammy’s way,’ she said. ‘It’s the lot of daughters to help their mothers. I had years of the same when I was at home, especially after young James was born. At the time, if I remember rightly, you weren’t expected to do anything and were able to swan around the house like Lady Muck.’

‘But you got away.’

‘I was eighteen when I left home,’ Kate said. ‘And Susie had found me this flat, not far from her parents’ house and a job of work. I didn’t do as you did and up sticks and take off. You won’t even be seventeen till the turn of the year.’

‘Mammy’s on to me all the time,’ Sally complained. ‘And I never have any money of my own. She buys all my clothes and doles out the collection for Mass, as if I was the same age as James.’

Kate knew Sally had a point – she’d never had any money either. Just before leaving home her mother had taken her into town and bought her some new outfits and a nice smart case to put them in, and her father had pressed the princely sum of £10 into her hand. She had protested that it was too much, but he had insisted. ‘Take it, darling girl,’ he’d said. ‘You will be a long way from the support of your family and may have need of this before too long.’

Sally had obviously been thinking along the same lines because she said somewhat resentfully, ‘Mammy and Daddy couldn’t do enough to help you leave home.’

‘And I have told you why that was,’ Kate said. ‘I was older and wiser and doing it the right way, that’s why.’

She knew it wasn’t only that, though. She was sure her mother had guessed the feelings she had for her cousin, Tim Munroe. Tim’s father, Padraic, and Kate’s father, Jim, were brothers. On the death of their eldest brother, Michael, after the Great War, they’d split the farm between them, and so the families had seen a lot of each other. Tim was two years her senior, as familiar as any brother, and they had always got on well.

When she reached sixteen, though, she realized that she wasn’t looking at Tim in a brotherly way any more, or even in a cousinly way. She knew she truly loved him as a woman. She knew Tim felt as she did – she had seen the love-light in his eyes – but he hadn’t said anything about how he felt because it was forbidden for first cousins to enter into any sort of relationship, and marriage between them was totally banned.

Kate’s mother, Philomena, had soon become aware of how the young people felt about each other, but she’d not said a word to either of them. She had been a little alarmed, but she had told herself they were both young and she thought and hoped it was a phase they would grow out of, had to grow out of: they knew the rules of the Church just as well as she did. She watched her daughter and Tim covertly for two years, but if anything their feelings seemed to deepen as they grew older. She didn’t know what action to take for the best.

Then Susie Mason had come on her annual holiday to her grandparents’ farm. She had always been a great friend of Kate’s – Kate’s parents liked her too, and always made her welcome, although Philomena often wished she wouldn’t go on quite so much about the fine life she was having in Birmingham where she lived with her family. After she left school, she told them how she now had money of her own to spend and plenty to spend it on. Philomena would watch Kate’s enthralled face as she listened. She was always worried that Susie’s words might unsettle her – and indeed they did, because Susie brought the life and excitement of city life into that small farmhouse, and it contrasted sharply with Kate’s more mundane existence.

Susie worked in a factory, but even that was not so bad, she declared. ‘You think of the wages at the end of the week,’ she said with a nod of her head and a twinkle in her eye. ‘There’s the clothes you can buy real cheap, especially when you go round the Bull Ring, and then you can wear those clothes when you visit the music hall or cinema.’

She went on to describe some of the acts she’d seen in the music halls that were peppered about the city, and described the cinema, proper moving pictures that she said she went to see once, maybe twice a week. ‘Dancing is all the rage now,’ she told them in the summer of 1935, and she seemed to almost squeeze herself with delight as she went on: ‘Oh I just love dancing. I have started taking lessons to do it properly. You’d be great at it, Kate, because you have natural rhythm. Look how good you were at the Irish dancing, and there was me with two left feet.’

Kate, who would give a king’s ransom to see even half the things Susie spoke about, looked at her with dull eyes. She always waited excitedly for Susie’s annual visit and listened avidly to her news, but when she had gone it was as if someone had turned the light out. Kate would see the days stretching interminably out in front of her, each one the same as the one before. The only light in her life was her love for Tim, and she couldn’t speak about that.

Susie was off again. ‘’Cos as well as the waltz and quickstep and that, they do the new dances coming in from America, music to the big bands, you know?’

No, Kate thought, I don’t know. I don’t even know what she is talking about. How would I?

Philomena watched Kate’s face and suddenly felt sorry for her. She also saw that Susie might provide a way out of the situation as regards Kate and Tim. She hated the thought of her daughter leaving that small cottage and living a long way away, but she also knew that she and Tim had to be kept apart for their own good. And Kate had to be the one to go away because Tim couldn’t be spared. He was his father’s right-hand man and, as the eldest son, the one who would inherit the farm one day.

So to Susie’s great surprise, Philomena said, ‘Susie’s right, Kate. You were always a fine one for the dancing. You’ll have to go to Birmingham and see for yourself. Would you like that?’

Kate wasn’t sure she’d heard right. She stared at her mother, and even Susie was silent and seemed to be almost holding her breath. ‘Do … do you really mean it, Mammy?’ Kate said at last.

Philomena’s heart felt as if it was breaking, because she knew that once gone, Kate would in all likelihood never come back to live at home again, but then thinking of the alternative said, ‘Yes, of course I mean it.’

Kate had to get things straight. ‘For a holiday, Mammy?’ she asked. ‘I’d love that. Oh indeed I would.’

‘Well, just a wee holiday if you like,’ Philomena said, and Kate heard the resignation in her mother’s voice and the sigh she tried to suppress as she went on: ‘Though if Susie here could get you set on some place, you could stay a year or two and see how you like city life.’

Both Kate and Susie looked at Philomena in amazement, and then Kate’s eyes met her mother’s and suddenly she knew why her mother was anxious that she should leave her home and family and travel to Birmingham. And she wasn’t sure that she wanted to go, not for a year or two. Although she did hanker after more freedom, she knew that she would miss her family hugely. And she might never see Tim again, or at least for a good few years. On the other hand, she had to admit that it was torment seeing him so often and not even being able to speak of how she felt. At least she would be spared that.

‘So,’ Philomena said, ‘what do you think?’

Susie was astounded at Philomena’s apparent and sudden change of heart, but she decided she was going to do all she could to encourage such a venture because she thought Kate was wasted in Donegal. ‘I could soon get you fixed up with a job and a flat and such,’ she said reassuringly. ‘Oh, it would be such fun if we were together.’

Kate smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm, but she knew she was right. With Susie’s company, a job of work and all the distractions that Birmingham could offer, she would surely be able to get the feelings she had for her cousin into some sort of perspective. And so she had nodded her head and had ended up following Susie Mason to Birmingham three years earlier in the autumn of 1935. She had confided everything to Susie once she had arrived in Birmingham; though Susie was sympathetic, she thought that Kate would soon get over her cousin. However, Kate had been incredibly homesick and was determined to stay true to Tim. ‘If I can’t have Tim then I’ll have nobody,’ she declared. ‘I won’t settle for second best.’ She knew her attitude irritated Susie, but there was nothing she could do about that.

However, Kate knew that her young sister, Sally, had no idea of the real reason their mother had been so keen for her to leave home, and that was how Kate wanted it to stay, and so when Sally said, ‘So why was it so different for you?’, she put those memories to the back of her mind.

‘I’ve told you why that was, and as for Mammy not giving you money, she doesn’t think you need anything since she clothes you and feeds you. I never had any either, but if it bothers you that much, it would have been more sensible and more mature to tell them how you felt rather than rushing over here.’

And then a thought struck her and she said, ‘But hang on a minute, if you had no money given to you, how did you pay your fare?’

‘I took Mammy’s egg money.’

‘Sally!’ Kate cried. Philomena had full care of the hens on the farm and she sold the excess eggs. That was her personal money and she guarded it jealously. Though they all knew the cupboard she kept it in, no one would dream of touching it – till now.

‘That was stealing, Sally.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t have had to steal if I had been given a wage.’

Kate shook her head angrily. ‘No, you can’t get away with it like that, Sally. I bet you never even discussed getting any sort of wage for yourself, did you?’

‘She wouldn’t have agreed,’ Sally said mulishly. ‘You know what she’s like.’

‘You didn’t even try,’ Kate said. ‘So, you can’t be sure what Mammy would have done and Daddy might have supported you.’

‘He always sides with Mammy.’

‘No, he doesn’t,’ Kate said. ‘He did when we were small because he thought bringing up children was women’s work, as it is, but he was better with me when I had grown a bit, so I’m sure he would be the same with you. He’s very fair. Surely you should have tried to get them to see your point of view before you stole from your own parents?’

Sally was crying in earnest now but Kate had little sympathy for her. ‘And just how did you manage to walk out anyway, especially carrying a thumping great suitcase. I mean,’ she added sarcastically, ‘weren’t they the slightest bit curious?’

‘They weren’t there,’ Sally said. ‘Daddy and Uncle Padraic had been gone from early morning to Killybegs where they heard some farm equipment and animals were being sold after the death of the farmer.’

‘And where was Mammy?’

‘Helping at a birth. And James has been at school since September.’

‘And when you got here, Sally, what did you expect to happen?’ Kate asked.

‘I thought I might stay with you,’ Sally said.

‘And so you could if this had been planned properly and Mammy and Daddy had agreed and I had known in advance,’ Kate said. ‘Then I would have welcomed you for a week or two, because I would have some holidays due to me from work and I could have taken you out and about a bit. But I can’t do that at the drop of a hat. Like I said before, I’m a working girl.’

‘But they wouldn’t have let me come.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense.’

‘They wouldn’t,’ Sally maintained. ‘I heard Mammy say so last Sunday after Mass.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘She was talking to old Biddy Morrisey after Mass and she asked how you were and Mammy said you were well as far as she knew. Then Biddy sort of nodded over to me and said that I would be the next one on the boat to England and Mammy said I would not. She said I wouldn’t be let go, not even for a holiday, in case I didn’t come back.’ She looked up into her sister’s eyes and said, ‘And it wasn’t just something to say, you know. She meant every word.

‘And then yesterday she was yelling at me about something or other the whole time. I breathed a sigh of relief when she was sent for this morning, though she gave me a list of jobs to do before she left. All I could see was a lifetime of the same – living with Mammy and Daddy for ever, or if I should get married to one of those at home, all I would have to look forward to would be a lifetime of drudgery and a child every year. That has happened to lots of girls, as you well know, and I didn’t want it happening to me. I want to see and do other things. I felt quite stifled at home.’

For the first time, Kate felt immense sympathy for her sister – she could understand how frantic she must have been. ‘Stifled’ described very well the way Kate had felt before she had left Donegal; it had only been the intense but forbidden love she’d had for Tim that had made life bearable.

‘And whenever you write you always seem to be having such a fine time of it,’ Sally went on. ‘I just decided on the spur of the moment to come over and see for myself. It wasn’t something I planned or anything, it was just that I knew I would never get such a chance again. It’s seldom I have the farmhouse to myself.’ Then she glanced up at Kate and said, ‘I left them a note, tried to explain …’

‘I doubt that will help much,’ Kate said. ‘And I do feel sorry for you, but I can’t have you here, not like this. Really, this isn’t the way to get more freedom. Your best bet is to write to Mammy and Daddy and say how sorry you are and make your way home again sharpish. Later, when the time is right, I will plead your case for you.’

‘Oh, will you, Kate?’ Sally cried. ‘That will be grand. Mammy listens to you. But I can’t write to her. She will be so cross with me.’

‘Yes, and with reason, I’d say,’ Kate snapped. ‘Don’t be so feeble. Go home and face the music.’

‘I can’t,’ Sally cried in anguish. ‘And anyway, I haven’t any money left, or not enough for the whole fare anyway.’

‘Oh, Sally,’ Kate cried in exasperation. Keeping her temper with difficulty, she took a deep breath and said, ‘I cannot have you here and that’s final, so I suppose I shall have to loan you the money, but for now you write a letter to Mammy saying how sorry you are and promise that you will make it up to her. You know the kind of thing to say. And I would just like you to know that you have wrecked my evening good and proper, because I was going dancing with Susie Mason tonight, like we do every Friday, and now I will have to pop along to see her and cancel our plans. I shouldn’t think she’ll be best pleased either.’

‘Sorry, Kate.’

Kate sighed. Sally was an irritating and quite selfish girl, but she couldn’t keep telling her off. In a few days she imagined she’d be on her way home and not her concern any more and, though her parents had always doted on her, or until James’s birth anyway, she knew that her mother at any rate would roast her alive for this little adventure. So she looked at her sister’s woebegone face and said, ‘On the way home, for all you don’t deserve it, I will buy us both a fish and chip supper.’

‘Oh, will you, Kate?’ Sally cried. ‘I would be so grateful. I haven’t eaten for hours.’

‘That’s why you’re so tearful,’ Kate said. ‘A full stomach always makes a person feel more positive. I’ll get going now and I’ll not linger because I’m hungry myself. Write that letter and make sure you have the table laid and the kettle boiling by the time I get back.’

Susie was disappointed, but she could see Kate was too. ‘And she just turned up like that?’ she repeated, when Kate told her what Sally had done.

‘That’s right,’ Kate said. ‘She was waiting for me when I got in from work and admitted she’d sneaked out when both our parents were out of the house and James at school. Claimed she left a note explaining it.’

‘Explaining what?’ Susie said. ‘Why did she do it?’

‘Oh, that’s the best yet,’ Kate said. ‘She said she was fed up. Like I said, we all get fed up. The trouble is she overheard Mammy telling someone after Mass that she would never let her come here, even for a little holiday. I suppose it was like the last straw for her – and then she got the opportunity with everyone out of the way, so here she is. She can be very headstrong,’

Susie nodded her head. ‘She was always spoiled though, wasn’t she?’ she said. ‘I saw that myself when I came to stay with my granny when my mother was in the sanatorium that time. Even as a small child she usually got all her own way.’

Kate remembered that time well. Susie Mason’s mother, Mary, had been very ill when Susie was just ten and she had been sent to be looked after by her mother’s granny in Ireland while the older boys, Derek and Martin, stayed at home with their father. In Copenny National School, just outside Donegal Town, where the Munroe children all went, Susie was put to sit beside Kate, who had been strangely drawn to the girl who seemed so lost and unhappy. She had once confided to Kate that she was scared she would never see her mother again and Kate thought that the saddest thing. And so did Philomena when she heard. From that moment, Susie was always made welcome in their house.

Susie’s mother did recover, however, although Susie had been living in Ireland six or seven months before her father came to fetch her home. By then a strong bond had been forged between Kate and Susie. They wrote to each other regularly, and when Susie came back on her annual holiday, they would meet up whenever Kate could be spared.

‘My mother said that you do a child no favours by giving in to them all the time,’ Susie said to Kate.

‘And she’s right,’ Kate said. ‘But there’s not much I can do about that. And now I’d better go and get those fish and chips before I fade away altogether. Can you hear my stomach growling?’

‘Course I can,’ Susie said. ‘It sounds like a disgruntled teddy bear. But before you go, here’s an idea: shall we show your sister round Birmingham tomorrow?’

‘Oh, I don’t know …’

‘We may as well,’ Susie said. ‘I mean, you can’t send her home till you hear from your mother, so what are you going to do with her otherwise? If we go late afternoon, we can stay on to see some of the entertainment in the Bull Ring – if it isn’t too cold or raining.’

‘All right then, yes,’ Kate said. ‘It will make up for not meeting up tonight. We’ll come round about half two, then. Give me time to do the washing and clean up the flat a bit first.’

‘All right,’ Susie said. ‘See you then.’

So that evening, as they ate the very welcome fish and chips, Kate said to Sally, ‘How would you like to go into town tomorrow? We can show you round and then take you down the Bull Ring. You mind I’ve told you about it in my letters?’

‘Yes, oh, I’d love to see Birmingham,’ Sally said. ‘And you said the Bull Ring was like a gigantic street market.’

Kate smiled. ‘Yeah, like Donegal Town on a Fair Day, only bigger – but without the animals, of course,’ Kate said.

‘And yet it’s called the Bull Ring?’

‘I never thought of that,’ Kate said with a shrug. ‘I suppose they must have sold bulls there at one time. There’s all sort of entertainment on offer there when the night draws in. I’ve told you about it in my letters.’

‘Yeah. You said it was all lit up with gas flares so it was like fairyland,’ Sally said. ‘So what sort of entertainment? You never said much about that.’

Kate made a face. ‘I wasn’t sure Mammy would approve,’ she said. ‘It isn’t wrong or anything, but sometimes Mammy takes a notion in her head to disapprove of something and that’s that then, so I was always very careful what I wrote. Anyway, you’ll see for yourself tomorrow, though I’m warning you now we’re not hanging about too long if it’s freezing cold or raining or both. There’s no pleasure in that.’

‘I still want to go,’ Sally said. ‘Ooh, I can’t wait.’

Kate laughed. ‘You’ll have to,’ she said. ‘And first thing tomorrow we have to clean the flat and do the washing. It’s the only day I have to do all this.’

‘I’ll help if you tell me what wants doing,’ Sally said. ‘It won’t take so long with two of us at it.’

‘No it won’t,’ Kate said, getting up and pulling her sister to her feet. ‘Come on,’ she said suddenly. ‘You tidy up here and I’ll nip out and post your letter and then we can hit the sack, because what with one thing and another, I’m whacked.’

A little later, as they were getting ready for bed, Kate said, ‘Susie is coming with us tomorrow. We’re meeting her at half past two.’

Sally made a face. She would hate Susie to be annoyed with her, because she had always admired her when she’d come to Ireland on holiday. Sally remembered her as having really dark wavy hair that she had worn down her back, tied away from her face with a ribbon like Kate’s. It had been a shock to see that now Kate braided her hair into a French plait and fastened it just above the nape of her neck; she told her that Susie wore hers the same way.

‘Ah, I liked her hair loose – and yours too,’ Sally said regretfully.

‘We would be too old to wear our hair like that now,’ Kate told her as she loosened the grips and began to unravel the plait. ‘Besides, in the factory, I have to wear an overall and cap that covers my hair, so wearing it down isn’t an option for either of us any more. Anyway, it really suits Susie, because she always has little curls escaping and sort of framing her face. Most of the rest of us look pretty hideous.’

‘She’s pretty though, isn’t she?’ Sally said. ‘I mean, her eyes are so dark and even her eyelashes and eyebrows are as well.’

‘She takes after her mother,’ Kate said. ‘Her brothers look more like their dad. Pity about her snub nose, though.’

‘Ah, Kate.’

‘I’m not speaking behind her back, honestly,’ Kate said as she began to brush her hair. ‘She would be the first one to tell you herself. Anyway, her mouth makes up for it because it turns up by itself, as if she is constantly amused about something, so people smile at her all the time.’

‘I know,’ Sally said, ‘I can remember – and her eyes sparkle as well. I used to love her coming on holiday because she used to liven everyone up. And her clothes always looked terribly smart, too. I really like her. I hope she won’t be cross with me because I spoiled your plans for tonight?’

‘No,’ Kate said assuredly. ‘Susie’s not like that. Come on, let’s get undressed. It will be funny sharing a bed with you again.’

‘It will be nice,’ Sally said as she pulled her dress over her head. ‘Cuddling up in bed with you was one of the many things I missed when you left home.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought you missed anything about me that much.’

‘Oh, I did,’ Sally said sincerely. ‘I was real miserable for ages.’

Kate saw that Sally really did mean that, and she realized she had never given much thought to how lost Sally might have felt when her big sister just wasn’t there any more. But she didn’t want her feeling sad or to start crying again, and so she said with a smile as she climbed into bed, ‘Come on then. Let’s relive out childhood memories – only it might be squashed rather than cosy because you’re bigger now than the strip of wind I left behind three years ago.’

‘I think the bed was a lot bigger too,’ Sally said, easing herself in beside her sister. ‘Still nice though.’

And it was nice, Kate had to agree, to feel a warm body cuddled into hers on that cold and miserable night. She was soon asleep. Sally, though she was tired too, lay awake listening to Kate’s even breathing and the city noises of the night. Slade Road, Kate had told her, was quite busy most of the time because it was the direct route to the city centre. And it was busy, and Sally didn’t think she would sleep with all the unaccustomed noise from the steady drone of the traffic, overridden by the noise from the clanking trams and rumbling lorries. As she lay there listening to it, her eyelids kept fluttering closed all on their own, and eventually she gave a sigh, cuddled against Kate and, despite the noise, fell fast asleep.

TWO

The next morning, Sally woke with a jerk; she lay for a moment and listened to the city beginning the day. Then she climbed out of bed and walked across to the window. Though it was early enough to be still dusky, traffic had begun to fill the streets on both sides of the road, where horse wagons and carts vied for space with motor vehicles, and trams clattered along beside them. The clamorous noise rose in the air and filtered into the flat. The pavements too seemed filled with people and she watched some get off trams and others board them from the tram stop just up the road from Kate’s flat, while others hurried past with their heads bent against the weather.

She sighed as she leant her head against the windowpane. There were so many people and so much noise that she didn’t think she would ever get used to actually living here. She reflected on what it was like to awake in the farmhouse. The only sound after the rooster crowed was the cluck of the hens as she threw corn on to the cobbles in the yard, the occasional bleat of a ewe searching for her lamb, the odd bark of the dogs, or the lowing of the cows as they gathered in the fields for milking.

Birmingham seemed such an alien place, and yet Kate had seemed to settle into it so well. Now Sally was anxious to see the city centre; the previous evening she had been too distracted and it had been too dark to get more than just a vague impression.

In the cold light of day she wondered what on earth had possessed her to take flight. Why hadn’t she at least tried to talk to her parents? Tell them how she felt? Maybe if she had explained it right they would have agreed to let her spend a wee holiday with Kate the following spring when she would be seventeen. Well, she thought ruefully, God alone knew when she would ever get the chance again. She imagined, after this little caper, her mother would fit her with a ball and chain.

In her heart of hearts she had known she had made a terrible mistake as soon as she had seen the grey hulk of the mail boat waiting for her as she alighted from the train in Dún Laoghaire. Ulster Prince, she’d read on the side, and she had almost turned back then, but the press of people behind her had almost propelled her up the gangplank and on to the deck, which seemed to be heaving with people.

She hadn’t been on the deck long when there was a sudden blast from the funnels and black smoke escaped into the air as the engines began to pulsate and the deck rail to vibrate as the boat pulled away from the dock. Sally watched the shores of Ireland disappear into the misty, murky day, and wished she could have turned the clock back. She felt her insides gripped with a terrible apprehension, which wasn’t helped by the seasickness that assailed her as the boat ploughed its way through the tempestuous Irish Sea. Cold, sleety rain had begun to fall too, making it difficult to stay outside. Inside, however, the smell of whisky and Guinness mingled with cigarette smoke, and the smell of damp clothes and the whiff of vomit that pervaded everywhere made her stomach churn alarmingly, while the noise, chatter, laughter, singing and the shrieking of children caused her head to throb with pain. Like many of the other passengers, she’d ended up standing in the rain, being sick over the side of the mail boat. By the time she’d disembarked and thankfully stood on dry land again, she had never felt so damp or so wretched in the whole of her life.

She tried to gather her courage as the train thundered along the tracks towards Birmingham. She told herself that – even if she was cross with her – Kate would look after her and make everything right, because she always had in the past. But she was so unnerved by her own fear and the teeming platform that she was almost too scared to leave the train at New Street Station – she had never seen so many people in one place before.

She’d never heard so much noise either. There was the clattering rumble of trains arriving at other platforms and the occasional screech and the din from the vast crowds laughing and talking together. Then there were porters with trolleys loaded with suitcases warning people to ‘Mind their backs’. A newspaper vendor was obviously advertising his wares, though Sally couldn’t understand a word he said, and over it all were equally indecipherable loudspeaker announcements.

She felt totally dispirited as she breathed in the sooty, stale air, but she knew that if she didn’t soon alight, the train would carry her even further on, and so she clambered out on to the platform, dragging her case after her. She realized that the boldness that had enabled her to get this far had totally deserted her, and she had no idea where to go or what to do next. She looked around, feeling helpless and very afraid.

Most people were striding past her as if they were on some important errand; they seemed to know exactly where they were going, so she followed them and in minutes found herself in the street outside the station. If she had been unnerved inside the station, she was thoroughly alarmed by the scurrying crowds filling the pavements and traffic cramming the roads outside it. The noise too was incredible and she stood as if trans-fixed. There were horse-drawn carts, petrol-driven lorries, vans, cars and other large clattering monsters that she saw ran along rails – she remembered Kate had said they were called trams – all vying for space on the cobbled roads. And because of the gloominess of the day, many had their lights on, and they gleamed on to the damp pavements as she became aware of a sour and acrid smell that lodged at the back of her throat.

How thankful she had been to see taxis banked up waiting for passengers just a short way away. Not that she was that familiar with taxis, either; in fact she had never ridden in one before. It didn’t help that the taxi driver couldn’t understand her accent when she tried to tell him where her sister lived and she had to write it down.

Eventually, he had it, though, and Sally had gingerly slid across the seat, and then the taxi started up and moved into the road. She looked about her but could see little, despite the pools of brightness from the vehicles’ headlights and the streetlamps and lights from the illuminated shop windows spilling on to the streets, because low, thick clouds had prematurely darkened the late afternoon.

And then when Sally had arrived at the address that Kate always put on her letters home, the door had been locked, so she’d lifted the heavy knocker and banged it on the brass plate. No one came, and no one answered the second knock either, but at the third the door was suddenly swung ajar and a scowling young woman peered around it. In the pool of light from the lamppost, Sally could plainly see the scowl. And she demanded brusquely, ‘What d’you want and who are you anyway?’

‘Kate,’ Sally said, unnerved by the woman’s tone. ‘I want to see Kate Munroe. I am her sister from Ireland.’

The woman’s voice softened a little as she said, ‘Are you now? Kate never said owt about you coming.’

‘She didn’t know.’

‘Nothing wrong I hope?’

Sally shook her head. ‘I just wanted to give her a surprise.’

The other woman laughed. ‘Surprise?’ she repeated. ‘Shock more likely. Any road, she ain’t here, ducks. She lives upstairs but she won’t be in yet. She’s at work, see, and I think she comes home at six or thereabouts.’

‘Oh.’

‘You’d best wait for her here,’ the woman said, ushering her into the entrance hall. ‘I would take you into my place, but I’m off to work myself ’cos I work in a pub, see. I was getting ready, and that’s why I was so mad at you nearly breaking the door down.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Well, it ain’t your fault,’ the girl conceded. ‘But if I hadn’t opened it I don’t reckon you would have got in at all because I don’t think anyone else is in from work yet.’

‘So, can I wait for Kate here?’

‘Oh yeah, no one will stop you doing that,’ the woman said. ‘And she’ll be in shortly, I would say. Any road,’ she said, ‘I got to be off or I’ll be getting my cards. Might see you around if you’re staying a bit.’

It was very quiet when the woman had gone, and dark and quite scary, and Sally wished she hadn’t had to leave. But she didn’t want to take a chance on meeting any more of Kate’s neighbours until she had met Kate herself and gauged her reaction, since she had a sneaky feeling that Kate wouldn’t be as pleased to see her as she might have hoped. And so she had slunk under the stairwell and sank into a heap and, totally worn out, had fallen into a doze.

Sally had gauged Kate’s reaction very well. She had been very angry, and remembering that now, Sally decided to get dressed and start to help in the hope she might put her sister in a better frame of mind. She wanted them both to enjoy their day in Birmingham. She sorted out clothes from the case on the floor, as Kate had said there was no point in unpacking it, but, quiet though she was, Kate heard her and turned over. ‘You’re an early bird.’

‘Yeah, suppose it’s living on a farm,’ Sally said. ‘Anyway, you said that there was a lot to do today before we can go and meet Susie.’

‘And so there is,’ Kate said, heaving herself up. ‘And I suppose the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll be finished. So we’ll have some breakfast now and then we can really get cracking.’

Kate was impressed with the enthusiasm Sally seemed to have for cleaning and tidying the flat and coping with the laundry, an attribute she had never seen in her before. By the time they were scurrying up the road to meet Susie, everything was done.

‘Don’t you mind the noise of all the cars and stuff?’ Sally suddenly asked Kate as they walked along.

‘You know,’ said Kate, ‘I seldom hear it now.’

Sally looked at her in disbelief. ‘You can’t miss it.’

Kate nodded. ‘I know. It’s hard to believe but that’s how it is now – though when I first came I didn’t think I would ever be able to live with the noise. But now it sort of blends into everything else.’

‘And what is that place over there on the other side of the street?’ Sally said. Trees, bushes and green lawns could just be glimpsed beyond a set of high green railings bordering the pavement.

‘Oh, that’s the grounds of a hospital called Erdington House,’ Kate said. ‘I always think that it’s nice it is set in grounds so that people can at least look out at green, which I shouldn’t think happens often in a city. But then I found that it once used to be a work house and maybe the people in there had little time for looking out.’

‘Maybe not,’ Sally said. ‘But it might have been nice anyway because I imagine any green space is precious here, I have never seen so many houses all packed together.’

‘Remember, there are a lot of people living and working in Birmingham and they have to live somewhere,’ Kate said. ‘They have to shop somewhere too, and so while there are a few shops here on Slade Road, in a few minutes we will get to Stockland Green and you will see how many shops there are there – all kinds, too: grocer’s, baker’s, butcher’s, greengrocer’s, fish-monger’s, newsagent’s, general stores, post office; even a cinema.’

Sally was very impressed. ‘A cinema!’ she repeated in awe. ‘I’d love to see a film.’

Kate remembered how impressed she had been when she arrived here, knowing a cinema was just up the road. ‘You play your cards right and I just might take you tomorrow.’

Sally gasped. ‘Oh, would you really, Kate?’

Kate nodded. ‘And if there is nothing we fancy at the Plaza, we can always go to the Palace in Erdington Village – that’s just a short walk down Reservoir Road and over the railway bridge.’

‘Oh, anything will do me, Kate.’

‘Yes, I know, it’s just in case I’ve already seen it,’ Kate said. ‘Anyway, what do you think of Stockland Green? We’re coming to it now,’ and Sally was impressed to see that there really were all manner of shops virtually on the doorstep.

‘Oh, that’s a nice pub,’ Sally exclaimed as they came to the top of Marsh Hill where the Masons lived.

‘The Stockland,’ Kate said. ‘It does look nice, doesn’t it? Not that I’ve gone inside it, but Susie said that though it was built not that many years ago, it was based on the design of a Cotswold manor house.’ And then she gave a sudden wave because she saw Susie coming up the hill.

Susie had not seen Sally for three years because she had not been back to Ireland since Kate had joined her in Birmingham, but she was able to have a good look at her as she approached. The Sally she remembered had been little more than a child; she saw she was a child no longer, but a young lady. It was hard to believe that she was Kate’s sister, for they were so different.

Kate had always claimed that Sally was the beauty of the family, and while Susie had to own that she was pretty enough with her blonde curls, big blue eyes and a mouth like a perfect rosebud, she didn’t hold a candle to her sister. Kate didn’t see it in herself, but she wasn’t just pretty, she was beautiful. She also had a fabulous figure, while Sally was much plumper. Kate’s hair was dark brown, with copper highlights that caught the light, and her dark eyes were ringed by the longest lashes Susie had ever seen. She might have looked quite aloof, because she had high cheekbones and a long, almost classic nose, but her mouth was wide and generous and her smile was warm and genuine and lit up her eyes.

However, there was another quality to Kate, and that was her ability to see good in most people. She was a genuinely nice person, and it was her personality as well as the way she looked that drew people to her. The combination drew men as well, but Kate never took advantage of that – in fact quite the opposite, for she never encouraged them at all. At the dances she was lovely, polite and courteous, and danced with any man who asked her up, but it never went any further than that.

That had never bothered Susie much before, but three years had passed since Kate had come to live in Birmingham and Susie had met a man called Nick Kassel at the weekly dance. She thought he was one of the handsomest boys she had ever seen: his hair was jet black and so were his eyebrows, while his eyelashes ringed eyes of the darkest brown. He had a classic nose, beautiful, very kissable lips and an absolutely fabulous body, and it had seemed perfect when she realized that his mate, David Burton, was smitten with Kate.

However, Kate didn’t feel the same way about David. They met them every week at the dance and, though when Susie pressed Kate she admitted that she liked David, that was all she would agree to. So when Nick eventually asked Susie out, she had shaken her head regretfully; although she had longed to accept, she felt that after urging Kate to come to Birmingham, she could hardly just swan off and leave her, as she knew that Kate relied on her. Nick hadn’t really understood this and he had been quite grumpy when she’d tried to explain.

She had promised to redouble her efforts to try to get Kate and David together, but she knew that the time to talk about this was not on the tram on the way to town, especially with Sally there. So she pushed her concerns about David and Kate from her mind and there was a smile on her face as she greeted them both. ‘We don’t have to go into town to please Sally,’ Kate told her. ‘She is impressed enough by this place.’

‘You haven’t seen the cinema yet,’ Kate said. ‘The Plaza.’

‘The Plaza,’ Sally repeated, enthralled. ‘Even the name sounds exotic,’ she added, and was surprised when the two older girls laughed.

‘It’s all right for you two,’ Sally said hotly. ‘But I have never even seen inside a cinema. I can hardly believe that Kate is taking me in there to see a film tomorrow afternoon.’ And she spun around with the excitement of it all and hugged herself with delight.

Susie laughed. ‘Let’s go and have a dekko on the boards outside now and see what’s on.’

‘What about the tram chugging up the hill at this very moment?’ asked Kate.

‘What about it?’ Susie said. ‘There’ll be another one. Trams to town of a Saturday come every few minutes, you know that, and it won’t take us long to have a look outside the flicks.’

Kate gave in, and when they passed the chip shop, which was opposite the cinema, Sally said to Kate, ‘I can’t believe either that you have hot food like this on your doorstep – and such delicious food as well. Is that the chip shop you used last night, Kate?’

‘Yeah,’ said Kate. ‘There is one nearer down the Slade, but this one is better and gives bigger portions. And I was going to Susie’s anyway, so it seemed sensible.’

Sally nodded, but then they crossed the road and the cinema took all her attention. Just to stand so close to that wonderful emporium while they studied the boards outside gave her butterflies in her stomach.

‘The Lady Vanishes is on at the moment then,’ Kate said to Sally. ‘That all right for you?’

‘Are you kidding?’ Sally said with a squeal of excitement. ‘Going to the pictures is another thing I’ve never done in my life. I’d like to see anything.’

‘It’s just that it’s a Hitchcock thriller and that means it might be a bit frightening for you, that’s all.’

Sally shook her head. ‘No, I promise, I won’t be the least bit frightened.’

Kate smiled at the look of excitement on her sister’s face and she linked her arm and said, ‘Come on then, Sally. Birmingham, here we come.’

‘Yes,’ added Susie, taking hold of Sally’s other arm. ‘And if you think these shops are something special, girl, you ain’t seen nothing yet.’ And the three giggling girls hurried off to the tram stop. They had only to wait a few minutes before they spotted a tram at the bottom of the Streetly Road. As Sally watched it clatter up the hill, she said, ‘I saw trams when I came out of the train station last night, and I don’t mind admitting that I am really nervous of them.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Kate said with a laugh. ‘I was the same at first. Do you remember my telling you so in one of the letters I wrote when I first came to Birmingham. I was terrified the trams were going to jump off the rails when they took a corner at speed or something, especially as Susie had told me that there had been some accidents in the early days.’

‘Yeah, there were,’ Susie said, as the tram drew to a clanking stop beside them. ‘They are safer now, though,’ she assured her as they boarded.

‘We’ll take your mind off the journey,’ Kate promised. ‘Let’s go upstairs and it will be easier to point things out along the way.’

As the tram rattled and swayed down Slade Road towards the city centre, Kate and Susie told Sally all about the canals of Birmingham that ran behind the houses. ‘A lot of them meet at a place called Salford Bridge,’ Susie said. ‘But you’ll see this for yourself when we cross over the bridge in a minute.’

Once they were in sight of the canals, Sally admired the brightly painted boats she could see there, and was very surprised when Kate told her people lived in them. ‘When my Dad was young my Nan said he was always messing about on the canals. He learnt to swim in there when his brother pushed him in,’ Susie told them.

‘Bit drastic.’

‘Oh, I’ll say,’ Susie agreed. ‘He was glad after, though, because in the summer a lot of the boys used to strip off and go skinny-dipping in there. Still do as well.’

‘Oh, the boys do that in the rivers in Ireland too,’ Sally said.

‘I remember,’ Kate said. ‘And all the girls were forbidden to go near, never mind look.’

‘And weren’t you ever tempted to have a little peek?’ Susie asked with a grin.

Kate exchanged a look with her sister and admitted, ‘I was sometimes.’

‘And me,’ Sally said. ‘But I never did. I mean, Mammy would go mad if she found out, but really it was because I would have had to confess it to the priest.’

‘Oh, the priests in Ireland hold the morals of the young girls tight,’ Susie said. ‘And it annoys me sometimes that the boys have all the fun, but in this case – while I wouldn’t mind plodging in the clear sparkling rivers in Ireland – you wouldn’t get me near a mucky canal for love nor money.’

‘Nor me,’ Sally and Kate said together.

Sally turned her attention back to the sights. They were over the bridge now, leaving the canals to weave down behind the houses again. Kate said, ‘Now we are coming to Nechell’s, where you will see really squashed-up houses – I’d say not that much bigger than the canal barges.’

Sally agreed with her. ‘They don’t look real,’ she said. ‘And there are so many of them, all tightly squeezed together.’

‘Oh, they’re real all right,’ Kate said grimly. ‘They call them back-to-back houses. And you’ll see plenty more when we go through Aston.’

‘Yeah, Kate’s right,’ Susie said. ‘And we’re coming to Aston Railway Station now.’

Sally looked around her with interest. They passed a large brick building that Kate told her was a brewery and a big green clock that had four faces on it, standing in a little island all on its own; it was surrounded by all manner of shops, very like those at Stockland Green. Susie told her, ‘There are factories too. Small ones tucked in beside the houses.’

Sally shook her head. ‘It’s all so different from Ireland,’ she said. ‘You must have found it all strange at first, Kate.’

‘Oh, I did,’ Kate admitted. ‘And for a time I was really homesick, but it was something I knew I had to get over. But now I’ve made my life here and I wouldn’t ever want to go back to Ireland to live. And look, we’re passing the fire station now and soon we’ll turn into Steelhouse Lane and reach the terminus.’

‘Steelhouse Lane is a funny name for a street.’

‘Not if the police station is on the street too,’ Kate answered. ‘And opposite is the General Hospital and that’s another hospital that used to be a workhouse.’

‘Yes, and people have got long memories,’ Susie said. ‘Mom says there are old people today who still refuse to go in that hospital.’

And Sally could understand a little of the trepidation people felt when she alighted from the tram and stood before the solid brick building of the General Hospital. It had a great many floors and she imagined all the poor inmates housed in there when it had been in use as a workhouse. ‘Come on,’ Kate said to her sister, catching hold of her arm, ‘there are much more interesting places to look at.’

Sally tore her eyes away from the hospital and allowed herself to be led up the wide, tree-lined street with tram tracks running up the middle of it that Susie told her was called Colmore Row. They passed an imposing building with arched windows to the front and supported by ornate pillars. ‘Another station,’ Susie said to Sally. ‘That one’s called Snow Hill.’

‘And if you look across the road you will see St Philip’s Cathedral,’ Kate said, and Sally looked across and saw the church set in a little oasis of green interspersed with walkways and benches set here and there. ‘It isn’t the Catholic one,’ Kate went on. ‘And I don’t think it’s very big to be a cathedral. I thought it would be much bigger than it is.’

‘I would have thought so too,’ Sally said. ‘It’s pretty, though. I bet when the light shines through those stained-glass windows it’s lovely inside.’

Susie nodded in agreement. ‘We’re going to cross over the churchyard now because we want to show you the shops.’

The pavements on New Street were crammed with busy shoppers and the road full of traffic, and because the cloud was so low and dense, like on the previous day, many had their headlights on, glimmering through the slight mist. But the shops were magnificent, many of them with more than one floor and so fine and grand that Sally said she was a little nervous. Her anxiety wasn’t helped by the frightening-looking man in uniform standing outside the first shop they came to. ‘What‘s he doing?’ she said quietly as they drew nearer.

Susie and Kate laughed. ‘He’s a commissionaire,’ Susie told Sally. ‘He stands there to keep the riffraff out.’

‘Like us you mean?’ Sally said with a laugh.

‘No, not like us at all,’ Susie said in mock indignation, and with a broad grin she pushed open the door with a confident air. Sally, her arm linked in her sister’s, followed her more cautiously, blinking in the shimmering lights that seemed very bright after the dull of the day. Kate smiled at the rapt attention on her sister’s face as they wandered around the store, remembering how she had been similarly awed in her initial forays into the city centre.

The models were draped in all sorts of creations, fashion able clothes the like of which Sally had never seen, and in materials so sheer or so luxurious that the spectacle rendered her speechless for a moment. She loved the vast array of colours used. She remembered the dullness of the shops in her home town, where material for their clothes was purchased at the draper’s and run up by a dressmaker. ‘Nice, aren’t they?’ Kate said as she saw Sally gently touching a velvet rose-red ball gown.

‘Oh, far more than just nice,’ Sally said. ‘And the colours, Kate. Do you remember the way it was done at home: straight up-and-down clothes with no style to them at all?’

‘I remember it well,’ Kate said with a grimace. ‘And the colours on offer were invariably black, grey, navy blue or brown. But to be truthful, though we thought it would be fun to show you the store, most of what they sell is too dear for my purse. Susie has a bit more left over at the end of the week than me, don’t you?’ she asked her friend.

‘Yeah, because I still live at home,’ Susie said. ‘But I still have an eye for a bargain. I don’t want to throw money away.’

‘And the bargains are to be had in the Bull Ring, which is where we are going later,’ Kate said. ‘But for now come and look at the hats,’ and she led the way up a short flight of stairs.

There were hats galore, of all colours, shapes and sizes, displayed on head stands or on glass shelves. Most were breathtakingly beautiful, decorated with ribbons and bows or the occasional feather and veil. Others were frankly bizarre: artistic constructions that looked ridiculous and even comical.

Sally smiled at the thought of the stir it would cause if she was to wear any one of those to Mass at home. But still she said to the others, ‘Wouldn’t you love to try some of these on?’ And she spoke in a whisper because it was the kind of place where to whisper seemed appropriate.

‘Shouldn’t, if I were you,’ Susie warned. ‘Not with hatchet face looking on.’ Sally followed Susie’s gaze and saw a very haughty woman behind a nearby counter who seemed to be keeping a weather eye on them, and so they wandered back to the main floor. No one paid them any attention there because it was very busy and Sally watched the smart shop assistants standing behind gleaming counters, confidently punching numbers into gigantic silver tills. Sally had seen tills before, but never any so large or magnificent.

They visited other stores, too: Sally found the most entertaining were those that had no tills at all. There the assistant would write out the bill and put it with the money into a canister. This would be carried on wires crisscrossing the shop until it reached the cashier who would sit in a high glass-sided office. She would issue a receipt and this, together with any change, would be put into the canister and the process reversed.

After Sally had watched this a number of times, Kate said, ‘If I’d known that this would entertain you so much, I wouldn’t have bothered to take you to town at all. I could have just taken you to the Co-op by the Plaza and you could have watched it all afternoon – they use the same system.’

‘Do they?’ Sally said. ‘I think it’s a great way of going on.’

‘Maybe it is,’ Kate said with a smile. ‘But I want to pop into C and A’s as we pass Corporation Street on our way to the Bull Ring. Let’s see what you think of an escalator.’

‘What’s an escalator?’

‘You’ll soon find out,’ Kate said, taking her sister’s arm in a firm grip and leading her into the street.

‘They move,’ Sally exclaimed a little later. ‘They’re like stairs but they move up on their own.’

‘And down,’ Susie said. ‘Round the other side they go down as well. D’you want a go?’

Sally shook her head. ‘I’d be scared.’

‘Nothing to it,’ Kate said airily.

‘Oh, just hark at her,’ Susie said with a hoot of laughter. ‘Let me tell you, Sally, your sister was shaking like a leaf when she went on the escalator first.’

‘I was not!’

‘Yes, you were,’ Susie said. ‘I well remember it. Come on, Sally,’ she said, offering her arm for Sally to link, which she took gratefully. ‘Don’t let Kate get one over on you. Show her how brave you are.’

‘Right, I will then,’ Sally said, and stepped forward, boldly holding Susie’s arm.

After the initial tingles of nervousness, Sally enjoyed the escalator, and went up and down quite a few times and on her own too before Kate and Susie could get her off it. ‘I’ve had such a lovely time already,’ she said as they hurried along. ‘And now I have the Bull Ring to look forward to.’

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