Across the Mersey - Annie Groves [59]
Sam’s mother had died shortly after Luke had been born, and Jean could remember how hurt she’d been at the way her mother-in-law had turned away from her new grandson the first time she saw him. Afterwards she’d put that down to her being poorly, but maybe there had been more to it than that, and Sam’s mother had resented Sam for being alive whilst her elder son was dead.
‘Well, like I just said,’ she insisted to Sam, ‘our Luke never said anything about you being a coward.’
‘He may not have said it, but it’s what he was thinking. I could see that from the way he was looking at me. And besides, if he hadn’t thought it then he’d have listened to my advice and stayed put.’
‘Sam, that’s nonsense. Luke thinks the world of you, and he always has done. It’s just that he wants to do his bit and to be part of what his friends are doing. It must have been hard for him, listening to all the other lads talking about enlisting.’
She knew immediately that she had said the wrong thing, but it was too late. She could see the tips of Sam’s ears burning dark red with anger.
‘Hard for him? Don’t you think it was hard for me when every lad in our street had gone off to war but for me, and me with me mam hating me for being there and not being our Reg? He was always her favourite.’
Jean searched her mind for something to say that would comfort him and realised that she could not think of anything, not for a pain that went so deep and which had been kept secret until now. Tears blurred her vision; not for Luke but for the young lad her Sam had been.
He’d always had a bit of a soft spot for Vi’s Jack, and had blamed Vi for favouring the other two over him and now suddenly she thought she could understand why.
‘Well, if he was then she was daft, if you ask me,’ she said resolutely. ‘There’s no one who can hold a candle to you for being a good husband and father, Sam.’
When he shifted his weight from one foot to the other in the familiar way that told her that he was taking in what she was saying even if he appeared not to be, she continued determinedly, ‘And it’s not only me that thinks so. It gets on me nerves at times, the number of women that tell me how lucky I am to be married to a chap like you.’ She summoned up a frown and deliberately made herself look severe. ‘Aye, and I’ve a pretty fair notion that more than one of them wouldn’t mind stepping into me shoes if they thought they might get the chance, especially that Dolly Nesbitt wot works in the chippy. Always had a bit of an eye for you, she has.’
‘What, her with the brassy-looking hair that wears all that lipstick? Do me a favour, Jean.’
Jean smiled to herself. She could see that he had begun to perk up a little bit. Not for anything was she going to tell him just how, over the years, she’d looked at her good-looking, tall, broad-shouldered husband and worried that some flighty piece might try to get her hands on him. Not these days, of course. She was too sensible for that now, what with them with a grown-up family, an’ all.
‘Come on in, love,’ she urged Sam. ‘It’s beginning to feel really damp with the dew coming.’ Jean rubbed her arms to take the evening chill out of her flesh, and then smiled when Sam reached for her, putting his arm around her and drawing her into his side.
He felt so warm and solid, so safe and strong, no one who didn’t know him as well as she did could ever guess how vulnerable he could be, especially not Luke, who had always looked up to his father. Sam had never been one to talk about his own youth to his children – he just wasn’t that sort. Jean leaned gratefully into his warmth.
‘Our Luke is so young, Jean. All I wanted to do was to keep him safe.’
‘I know, love.’
‘Looked at me like he hated me, he did.’
‘He’ll be missing you, Sam. Allus thought the world of you, our Luke has, right from the start. Remember how it was always you that could stop him crying when he was teething and not me?’
She could feel his chest