Young May Moon Read online

  The trip in the rowing-boat across the river was quite an experience. A chain ferry would soon be in place to transport freight as well as folk, but meantime the town was reluctant to lose its ferryman, the last of a long line, with his shaggy beard, twinkling eyes, if rheumy from the wind, ancient cap and fisherman’s smock. The swish of the oars as the boat headed for the far side, the cries of the swooping gulls overhead, the breeze whipping May’s hair free of its constraints, was exhilarating. The boat was packed with passengers, and as they sat shoulder to shoulder on the plank seats, Paddy was able to watch May’s expressive face at close quarters.

  All too soon the boat arrived at the mooring, and old Noah, despite his great age, leapt nimbly out and helped them ashore. There were people waiting for the return journey.

  ‘Back in a while,’ he called, as he made ready to row back.

  May and Paddy strolled along to the huts and joined a queue of people with baskets to fill.

  Bobby Blowers had a ruddy face, a shock of silver hair and an explosion of a laugh, which caused his big belly to wobble.

  The smoked fish looked like washing hanging on lines, and Bobby had a fine selection. ‘On the bone – or does Jenny want me to fillet some for you?’ he asked.

  May had to back tactfully out into the fresh air outside the hut while Bobby wrapped the haddock in newspaper. The smell of fish was overpowering, she thought. Paddy lingered to buy some sprats, too, which were packed in a barrel with crushed ice. There was a glut of these tiny fish this summer.

  ‘Fresh caught early this morning,’ Bobby beamed.

  May suddenly recalled the camera in her bag. ‘May I take your picture, Bobby?’ she enquired, producing it.

  ‘Of course you can, my dear – there won’t be no smell to that! The local photographer took one yesterday, and he says he’s going to print my face on postcards and sell ’em to the tourists! Make sure you get the sign in the picture, eh?’

  Others followed suit with their cameras, and Bobby enjoyed his moment of fame.

  When they arrived back May exclaimed, ‘Oh, I must get one of Noah now! I want to remember this summer for ever!’

  Noah seemed pleased to oblige, but it was difficult to focus on him, with passengers stepping ashore, and others waiting to get on the boat.

  ‘I probably included some extras,’ May remarked ruefully to Paddy as they crossed the road to the cinema, to glance at the forthcoming attractions advertised on the billboards outside. ‘A camera attracts people who want to be in the picture.’

  ‘It will add to the atmosphere,’ he observed. ‘Like the cannibals in The Navigator!’

  The haddock was served with a poached egg on top. With new bread, warm from the oven and spread with pale golden butter, this was indeed a feast.

  ‘Smile please!’ was repeated often over the next few days. Jenny, rolling an empty milk churn; Percy scything nettles in the paddock; Pomona and Danny peering out from the branches of a tree; Paddy whittling a piece of wood; Brigid hanging out washing and trying to hold down her skirt in the breeze, and Brendan polishing the bonnet of the car. These were all spur of the moment snaps.

  Carmen, on the other hand, insisted on elaborate poses. Somehow, Carlos always seemed to be lurking in the background, which was disconcerting, but May could hardly say that to her mother. Toby was grumpy and out of sorts on bank holiday Monday. ‘She’s getting stout – but how can I tell Jenny not to give her titbits?’ May worried. ‘She’s so kind to us all.’

  ‘Maybe it’s nearing the time for Dog Toby to retire, too, like old Smokey,’ Paddy suggested. ‘I’m still willing to have a go at a wooden Toby, but Mum could probably do a better job sewing a glove puppet for you, to use as a stand-in.’

  ‘I could handle that – easy!’ Pomona put in quickly.

  ‘We’ll see how it goes today, eh?’ May said, thinking wistfully: why can’t things go on for ever, in the same old way?

  Despite all the gloomy predictions in the press, the general worries about the country’s financial state, the bank holiday crowds appeared as jolly as ever and determined to make the most of their time by the sea, even though it was a cloudy, breezy day. August had not got off to a good start, but when they looked back on it years later, they would recall that 1925 was actually one of the driest on record.

  All the deckchairs were taken for the Punch and Judy show. ‘Hold on to your hats, ladies!’ advised the irrepressible Pomona.

  ‘Is my mum out there?’ May asked, when Paddy peeped in to the booth to see if she was ready to begin the show. He shook his head. She added: ‘Would you take some pictures for us?’ He nodded this time. She passed him the camera.

  May wanted a record of this special date, because she accepted that this might be their last summer season for quite a while. She didn’t yet know what the future might hold, but at least she had carried out her father’s last wishes, she thought.

  Eleven

  POMONA HAD BEEN bubbling with anticipation for days; preparations were well under way for Miss Gertrude Ederle’s attempt to swim the English Channel. She was pictured in all the newspapers. It made a nice change to see her smiling face rather than the grimmer photographs of protest marches of the unemployed, she thought. She was swimming on most days herself, Danny wisely didn’t try to compete, but borrowed his father’s pocket watch to time the lengths she managed when the pool was not too full of visitors.

  On 18 August, May agreed they would take the day off from the Punch and Judy. Pomona and Danny passed the headphones back and forth as they listened to the commentary on Jenny’s wireless in the Swan kitchen. Toby snoozed and snored in her box by the stove, obviously appreciating a lazy day, too.

  After eight hours and forty-three minutes, Miss Ederle had battled for over twenty-three miles in turbulent water and was showing signs of sea sickness. Her swimming coach, Jabez Wolffe took the decision to pull her out of the freezing Channel into the accompanying boat.

  ‘He shouldn’t have touched her – that means she’s disqualified,’ Danny said.

  Pomona burst into tears herself, while her heroine’s sobs faded as the broadcast was curtailed.

  ‘She’s a brave young lady, and she won’t give up, I reckon. She’ll have another go.’ Brigid said, trying to cheer them up. ‘Did you read in the paper that she’s suffered from increasing deafness since a childhood illness? She was advised to stop swimming, but she refused. She’s very determined. Like you, Pom!’

  Later, in an interview with the press, Gertrude Ederle insisted that when she next attempted to break the record, she was not to be taken from the water however distressed she might appear. She later added that she had no complaints about her coach’s action. ‘I am not a person who reaches for the moon as long as I have the stars….’

  Those words made a lasting impression on the young Pomona, and May.

  ‘There’s always next year,’ Jenny said comfortingly, as they drank their bedtime cocoa.

  Sometime after midnight Jenny tapped on the girls’ bedroom door. May had only just managed to get off to sleep due to Pomona’s laments about the failed Channel swim. The tentative knocking didn’t disturb her sister from her slumbers.

  Yawning, May tiptoed to the door, opened it. She took in the fact that Jenny was still in her day clothes, having only just finished her evening chores after the pub closed.

  ‘Can you come, dear? Your little dog seems to be in distress.’

  In the kitchen Toby was panting and scrabbling at the old jumper in the orange box which Jenny had provided for her bed.

  ‘What’s up, d’you think, Jenny?’ May asked, in alarm.

  ‘Why, I believe she’s having pups. Didn’t you know?’

  May shook her head in disbelief. ‘We thought she must be too old for breeding. That’s why Dad thought she was perfect to be Dog Toby. The one we had before, kept running off.’

  ‘Didn’t you say, oh, it must be a couple of months ago now, she went off with another dog along the beach?’


  ‘I wasn’t there, but Paddy got her back, thank goodness. D’you think…?’

  ‘Seems likely, doesn’t it,’ Jenny said. ‘Now, what do we do? Shall I fetch Percy? Though he’ll probably say, let nature take its course.’

  They were startled when they heard the latch being lifted on the back door. ‘It’s only me,’ Paddy said reassuringly, as he entered, torch in hand. ‘I noticed the light was on in the kitchen, and thought something might be wrong.’ He spotted Toby, now growling uncertainly in her bed. ‘Oh, what’s up?’

  May clutched her old robe round her. She thought, I must look a sight! She said, ‘Jenny thinks … Toby’s about to have pups!’

  ‘All right, old girl,’ Paddy said gently. He bent over the little dog. His hands gently felt her distended stomach. The growling ceased, and Toby licked his fingers. ‘Is it her first litter?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ May floundered. ‘We were told she was past … that sort of thing. Dad rescued her from a cruel owner; we don’t know anything about her early days.’

  ‘You look as if you know something about the process,’ Jenny addressed Paddy. ‘So how about I make you both a nice mug of tea, and leave you to it – you can always give me a call if there’s any complications. I don’t think it’s fair to crowd round the poor creature, eh?’

  ‘It might be a long night,’ Paddy said to May, as they sipped the hot tea. ‘D’you want to put something warmer on, while I hold the fort?’ He’d hastily dressed, pulling on a heavy jumper over his short-sleeved shirt. It might be August, but, after all, they were near the sea, which made for chilly nights.

  ‘I’ll borrow the knee blanket from the old chair,’ May replied, ‘and put that round my shoulders.’ She added, ‘Jenny’s right; you do look as if you know what’s what.’

  ‘My grandfather keeps a pair of collies, I helped with a litter last time we were staying with him. Don’t interfere unless necessary, but be there, that’s what Grandad says. It’s just occurred to me – are you squeamish? I mean.…’

  ‘You mean,’ she said, sounding sharp and defensive, as she had when they first met: ‘Have I seen an animal give birth before? Well, of course I have, being brought up on Aunt Min’s farm!’ She wasn’t going to tell him she’d not hung around to see the house cow drop its calf, but had rushed to fetch her capable aunt. She’d only been about Pomona’s age at the time.

  ‘Shush,’ he advised her. ‘We ought to whisper.’

  ‘I am whispering,’ she returned crossly. ‘You started the conversation!’

  There was a sudden upheaval in the dog’s box, Toby was panting and whimpering alternately.

  May poked Paddy in the ribs. ‘Go and see!’ she hissed.

  ‘Nothing happening as I far as I can tell,’ he reported. ‘There might be a big pup causing the hold-up.’ He stroked the dog soothingly, and moistened her mouth with a drop of water from her bowl. ‘Pass that old newspaper, May – she needs to be doing something.’

  May watched as Toby shredded the paper with her teeth and rearranged it to make a cosy nest. All was quiet now, apart from the loud ticking of the kitchen clock. The hands were moving on to two o’clock.

  Almost an hour later the first pup arrived, but was instantly rejected. ‘I’ll move that one away,’ said Paddy tactfully. Then in swift succession, came two smaller white pups, with distinctive black and brown markings, which Toby accepted.

  May and Paddy were joined by a sleepy Pomona, who had been alarmed to find herself alone in the bedroom. Jenny reappeared behind her.

  ‘Why didn’t you call me?’ Pomona demanded, put out. Jenny sat down in the rocking-chair and invited Pomona to sit on her lap. ‘You’ll catch cold, dearie – where’s your dressing-gown?’

  ‘I was – abandoned!’ Pomona said, glaring at May.

  ‘Sorry – but haven’t you noticed what Toby has in her box?’ May replied. ‘Stay where you are. Toby doesn’t want any fuss.’

  Pomona rested her head on Jenny’s shoulder as May and Paddy tidied up. ‘If there’s a girl pup, I’ll call her Gertie,’ she murmured.

  ‘How I would have loved one like you,’ Jenny said softly, cuddling her close. ‘Now, shall we all go back to bed? Toby’s cleaned the pups up, and they’ve snuggled down together. It’ll be time to rise again, before we know it.’

  Paddy tugged gently at May’s long plait, which was hanging over one shoulder. ‘Goodnight, May. See you at breakfast.’

  A substitute Toby, a joint effort by Brigid and Paddy: a wooden head and cloth glove, danced on stage.

  ‘You see,’ Paddy said to May, ‘we make a good team, don’t we?’

  May had to agree, they did. Tucked in her pocket was a little poem, another secret between them both, called – what else? The Punch and Judy Lady.

  At the end of the show, Pomona called boldly: ‘Three cheers for Young May Moon, Professor Jas Jolley’s daughter!’

  The audience clapped and cheered as May poked her head shyly through the curtains. There was a clicking of cameras, including the girls’ box Brownie. It would always be Jas Jolley’s show, but May, emerging to take a bow in her green dress and Mary-Jane shoes, was definitely in charge.

  Twelve

  ‘I SEE YOU made the front page of the local paper,’ Carmen remarked to May at practice a few days later. She sounded displeased.

  May blushed. ‘It wasn’t my idea – I didn’t contact them.’

  ‘Your so-called friends, I suppose!’

  ‘Mum, the reporter mentioned you. Said I was the daughter of the fiery Spanish dancer Carmen Maria Rivera, now dazzling audiences at the end-of-the-pier show. Why did they use Carlos’s name?’

  ‘There’s nothing Spanish about Jolley!’ Carmen flashed back. Then she gave a conciliatory smile. ‘It was a good picture of you, though. One for my scrapbook. How is your photograph album coming along?’

  ‘I am collecting the first prints today from the chemist,’ May said proudly.

  Carlos emerged from his corner, carrying his guitar. ‘I meet you back at the hotel for breakfast,’ he said to Carmen. He gave his customary nod to May. ‘You were at your best today,’ he complimented her. ‘Your big moment will soon come.’

  ‘Don’t hurry away,’ Carmen said to May, after he had gone. ‘I have something I must tell you.’

  May had a feeling that she knew what this might be. Her mother had mentioned the fact that she had spoken to Aunt Min on the telephone recently. Did Carmen intend to get custody of Pomona, and to take her back to Spain? At the beginning of September their summer season would be at an end. Pomona was due to return to her old school, and they’d be home with Aunt Min and Grandpa. It would also be the parting of the ways with the O’Flahertys, whose contract with the little theatre was almost over. There would no more shows until Christmas. Carmen and Carlos would be on the move, too.

  ‘I must get ready for my show soon,’ she reminded Carmen. ‘And as I said, I have my snaps to collect first.’

  ‘Aunt Min will not allow me to take Pomona back with me. Perhaps it is just as well, because I have not the time or patience for one so young. It is different for you. You may decide for yourself. You have the chance to make a good career from dancing, although you have a great deal still to learn. You would be the young Carmen, not the young May Moon as your father called you, against my wishes.’

  ‘Do I really have a choice?’ May demanded. ‘How can I … abandon my little sister, she’d never forgive me!’ Unconsciously, she used the word abandon, as Pomona had, dramatically, the night the puppies were born.

  She expected a spirited response, but was taken aback when Carmen’s eyes filled with tears, which she furiously blinked away, smudging the kohl she had used to enhance them. ‘May, I thought of you both every single day, while I was away.’

  ‘Why didn’t you contact us then?’ May demanded.

  ‘Your father would not allow it. My letters were returned.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’


  ‘He was bitter, and I cannot blame him. I was not a good wife. I was a reluctant mother. But I did – oh, I do love you! I thought I could make it up to you. What future is there for you here? The economy of the country is in decline. What qualifications do you have – only those of the Punch and Judy. This is fun in the summer, but what do you do in the winter?’

  This was the conclusion that May herself had reluctantly come to. ‘I intend to go back to school – like Pomona! Well, to a secretarial college, if I can. Dad left us fifty pounds each; he wanted us to be as independent as possible. I’ll be allowed to use that to pay for training now that I’m sixteen.’

  ‘You would prefer to be a typist, rather than a dancer?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. But I need to be able to support my sister. She’s clever enough, I think, to go to university.’

  ‘Then my plea falls on deaf ears?’

  ‘Oh, Mum, no! It means a lot to me to know you didn’t forget us. I think I can understand and forgive you now. You and Dad – you weren’t suited; you made each other unhappy. Neither of you was to blame for that. One day, I’ll visit you in Spain, I promise! Dad never encouraged us to think of ourselves as half-Spanish, but, of course we are. We must keep in touch from now on, will you promise that?’

  ‘Come here,’ Carmen cried, holding out her arms. ‘I promise, I really do!’

  May ran from the chemist’s shop to the beach, clutching the folder of photographs – she hadn’t had time to look at them yet.

  ‘I was wondering if something had happened to you!’ Paddy had been anxiously keeping an eye on the time.

  ‘I had to sort something out with Mum. Sorry!’

  ‘Did you quarrel?’

  ‘We actually came to an understanding. Don’t worry, all’s well.’

  ‘You smell very nice!’ he exclaimed, as she brushed past him into the booth.

  ‘It must be Mum’s perfume – frangipani. She gave me a real hug!’ She still felt a warm glow inside from that.