Anne Bennett - Daughter of Mine

I would like to dedicate this book to my second

daughter, Bethany Bennett, with all

my love

Cover Page

Title Page ANNE BENNETT Daughter of Mine

Dedication I would like to dedicate this book to my second daughter, Bethany Bennett, with all my love

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Books By

Copyright

About the Publisher

Lizzie Clooney and her cousin, Tressa, almost danced along Colmore Row to the Grand Hotel where both girls worked. ‘Imagine, a Christmas social,’ Lizzie said, her eyes shining at the thought.

‘Aye,’ Tressa replied, almost hugging herself with delight. ‘And to be held on the nineteenth of December before the hotel gets really busy. I mean, we have to grab this opportunity while we can. It isn’t as if we are meeting Catholic men on every street corner.’

Lizzie knew her cousin had a valid point, for although they enjoyed all the delights of Birmingham, the city they’d now lived in for nearly two years, they’d never encouraged any of the boys who’d pressed them for dates, certain they’d be Protestants. Never could Lizzie or Tressa contemplate marrying someone of another faith, for they both knew such a person would never be accepted into their families, who lived in Donegal in the north of Ireland.

Small wonder really, when you looked at the history of the place. Hadn’t there been enough trouble between the Orangemen and Catholics there to last anyone a lifetime, without them adding to it? ‘Everyone had better watch out,’ Tressa said warningly, but with a bright smile plastered to her face, ‘for I’m after catching a rich and handsome man at this social.’

‘Tressa!’

‘Well, I am. Are you not?’

‘No,’ Lizzie said, and then added more honestly, ‘well, not really.’

‘Are you mad?’ Tressa demanded. ‘This is our chance. D’you want to be an old maid all your life?’

‘No, of course not,’ Lizzie said with a laugh, ‘but I don’t want to get married yet a while.’

‘Well I do,’ Tressa declared. ‘If one takes my fancy, that is.’

‘You be careful,’ Lizzie cautioned. ‘You’ll get talked about.’

‘Och, will you listen to yourself?’ Tressa said contemptuously. ‘We’re not in a little village in Donegal now, Lizzie, where everyone knows everyone else’s business and would condemn you without judge and jury if the notion took them. I think if you ran naked down the city streets here, there would only be the mildest curiosity.’

‘Tressa!’

‘Oh don’t worry,’ Tressa said. ‘I’m not intending doing that.’ There was a slight pause and then with a twinkle in her eye, Tressa added, ‘Not straight away at least,’ and the two girls laughed together.

‘Think of it,’ Tressa said later. ‘Our futures might be decided by that night.’

‘Heaven forbid!’

‘What’s up with you?’

‘What d’you mean?’ Lizzie said. ‘Why do you want to tie yourself down so soon? For the first time in my life, I have freedom to do as I please, and money in my pocket to spend as I choose. I have bought new clothes, been to theatres and cinemas and dance halls. I don’t want to be tied to a house, doing the washing and cooking and cleaning without a halfpenny to bless myself with, for a long time yet.’

‘Don’t you think about it sometimes?’ Tressa asked.

‘Think about what?’

‘Being head over heels, besotted by someone?’ Tressa said. ‘And sex and things.’

‘Sometimes,’ Lizzie admitted. ‘I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t. But I don’t dwell on it. Sex an’ all verges on impure thoughts, anyway.’

‘You don’t confess it?’ Tressa said incredulously.

‘Aye, sometimes.’

‘You’re mad. No one can help their thoughts and I’m telling no priest what I’ve been thinking about. It might turn his hair white, or else give him a heart attack.’

‘And then he’d fall out of the confessional and roll down the aisle,’ Lizzie said, and the two girls collapsed helpless with laughter at the thought, and then, when the laughter had abated somewhat, Lizzie continued, ‘I wonder what penance he’d give you when he recovered himself?’ and that started them off again.

Through all the hilarity, though, Lizzie realised Tressa’s religion sat very easily on her, while she worried about every mortal thing. Maybe she’d fare better if she could view life in the same way as her cousin. But then she’d always thought Tressa had her life well sorted, and that had been the way of it throughout all of their growing up.

They’d been born within two days of each other: Lizzie on the 5 thJuly 1912 on her father Seamus’ farm in Rossnowlagh, Donegal, and Tressa two days later above the grocery store in the nearby village of Ballintra, that had become Eamon’s when he married the grocer’s daughter Margaret. She was an only child and so had inherited the whole business on her father’s death.

Lizzie and Tressa had always been the best of friends, but even before they’d begun the national school together in Ballintra, Tressa had been the boss. The point was, Tressa was the youngest in her home. She had two brothers, Will and Jim, followed by two sisters, Peggy and Moira, but then her mother had suffered two miscarriages before Tressa’s birth and so much was made of Tressa when she was born hale and hearty. But, as there were no other children after her, she’d been petted and spoilt in a way Lizzie’s mother Catherine never approved of. Catherine believed that to spare the rod was to spoil the child and her children were taught to do as they were told and promptly, or they’d know the consequences.

That was the problem. Lizzie had learnt quickly to do as she was told and Tressa had learnt, just as quickly, how to get her own way. Her parents, and certainly her older sisters, had always given in to her and she expected everyone else, and certainly her cousin Lizzie, to do the same. She’d lay plans before her in such a way and coax and even bully until Lizzie would find herself wavering and finally giving in to whatever Tressa wanted.

By the time they’d left school, this was firmly ingrained. But although Lizzie had plenty to do at home, for her mother believed Satan made work for idle hands, Tressa had a different life altogether, for there was no opening in the shop for her. Since she’d left school at fourteen she’d hung about the house, only helping the odd times when they had a rush on.

Her father wasn’t keen on her taking on any other sort of job either. ‘You’d shame me,’ he’d said. ‘People will say I can’t afford to keep my own daughter at home.’

‘Quite right,’ Margaret nodded in agreement. She didn’t really want this child, this true gift from God, to leave her side. She wanted her near all the days of her life, and when she eventually married Margaret wanted her to marry in the village, where Margaret could take pleasure in helping rear any grandchildren, like she had with the others.