Mother’s Only Child by Anne Bennett Page A

Surely Barney didn’t think…he couldn’t imagine…He came nearly every night to see her father and that was all, she told herself. He’d never given her more than a cursory glance. He had no one to advise him that the locket was an unsuitable gift, that was all it was. She dropped the locket in the drawer of her dressing table and threaded the ring on the chain, for it was rather large for her finger and she didn’t want to wear it openly till Greg was home and the engagement announced properly.
    There was great jollification on New Year’s Eve at Maria’s house. The men who’d come before Christmas were joined by several others carrying instruments—a fiddle, banjo, accordion and bodhrán. They played the polkas and jigs they’d learnt in childhood.
    Maria joined her female neighbours at the dancing. Then suddenly, as she wheeled around the room, she was caught up around the waist by one of the men not playing. Other men took hold of women until thewhole room was a mass of people dancing. Even Bella, Maria saw, was inveigled into getting on her feet.
    Sarah seemed to be enjoying herself as she sat before the fire, a smile playing about her mouth, and Sam’s face was one beam of delight. Eventually Maria stopped, a rosy hue to her face and gasping a little with the unaccustomed exertion.
    ‘Phew, I need a drink,’ she said to Dora, who was sitting by the table laid with goodies.
    ‘Another one has need of a drink too,’ Dora said grimly, indicating Con’s wife, sour-faced Brenda. ‘She has upset half the room and has watched every drop that has passed Con’s lips. Will you give her some stiff glasses of poteen to maybe loosen her up a bit? Anyway, the face on her would turn the milk sour.’
    Maria laughed. ‘Oh, Dora, I couldn’t, and maybe she’d be worse if she had the drink on her.’
    ‘She couldn’t be worse, and if you care about Con at all, do all in your power to get that woman totally bottled,’ Dora said with an emphatic nod. ‘I’ll help you.’
    Maria, Dora, and Bella—who joined in, seeing what they were at—plied the woman with drinks all night. In the end Con nearly had to carry her home. ‘At least she went with a smile on her face,’ Bella remarked.
    ‘Aye, but I wouldn’t have her head in the morning.’
    ‘It is New Year’s Eve,’ Bella remarked. ‘They’ll be a fair few the same.’
    ‘Aye, and one of them my father,’ Maria remarked. ‘Good job I’ve kept my wits about me for I have the feeling Mammy will be the very devil to settle tonight too.’
    Cold and blustery weather heralded 1942. First, there was snow descending from the leaden skies like a blanket of white, the blustery winds causing drifts as high as the windowsills, and piling on the roads to freeze at night, turning the place into a skating rink. The thaw in February was followed by rain, peppering the roads like bullets, driven by powerful winds to hammer on the windows and soak any unfortunate caught out in it in seconds.
    Maria was glad to reach the mugginess and doubtful heat of the workroom. Often her sodden coat, like many others, would steam over the gas fire in the staff room, especially lit for that purpose.
    The girls all grumbled about the weather. ‘It’s every day the bloody same,’ Joanne said morosely. ‘And the constant grey skies would put years on a body.’
    ‘I must admit, I am fed up constantly feeling damp,’ Maria said. ‘The spring can’t come soon enough for me.’
    But the weather ceased to matter the day Maria got the letter inside the birthday card from Greg, saying there was every likelihood he would get a spot of leave towards the end of the month. That day she had met the postman on the way to the bus stop and read the letter on the way to work.
    ‘What’s up with you?’ Joanne asked as she took her place beside her in the workroom. ‘You’ve got a dirty great smile plastered over your face.’
    ‘I got a letter from Greg,’ Maria said. ‘He thinks