The year was 1921, and although the First World War had ended three years previously, many people in England were still living with the after effects. Times were hard but on the whole people were happy. Community spirit was high, and people looked out for each other. Birmingham was one such place where people made sure their neighbours were looked after and would share their last scrap of food with anyone else if need be. The war had taken many of their men, but with the help of their families and community, a number of those who had returned home were growing stronger day by day.
One thing though that had never changed about Birmingham, even throughout the war, was the way it welcomed people. It opened its arms and made them feel as though this city was the place they had always called home. It made them feel as though this city was the only place they would ever want to call home for the rest of their days. But not everyone would find joy in this city, while others would find it where they least expected it.
Saoirse O'Reilly set down her bag and glanced around the poky flat she now called home. Taking a rubber band out of her coat pocket, she gathered up her long auburn curls and secured them into a bun at the back of her head. Her hair was the first thing people usually noticed about her; after all it was hard to miss those fiery locks, especially because they were a lot longer than the fashion of the time dictated. But to Saoirse, her eyes were the thing she liked most about herself. They were hazel with flecks of brighter green, and they changed shade with her mood. Her mother used to tell her that her face might say one thing, but her eyes would always tell a different story, and Saoirse sort of liked that. It was as though even when she had to be polite and act as society expected, her eyes and their secret shades would forever speak her truth.
She let out a breath and wiped at the sweat beading on her top lip. The inside flat might have technically been colder than outside, but lugging boxes and bags up the stairs had warmed her up rather a lot. Right about now, the heat in her body was the only thing filling her with any warmth in this place. The decor most certainly wasn't. The brown wallpaper was peeling from the top corner and there was a huge patch of damp on one of the walls. She walked towards the small dirty living room window and took out a handkerchief to wipe at it with. The grime was so thick that rather than clear any of it, the handkerchief seemed rather to smear it all to one side, but at least she was now able to glance out of the window. She grimaced, unable to decide whether that was a good thing or not, as she watched a man urinate right outside on the street right underneath the lit lamppost, splashing up the wall without care of being seen. So perhaps this flat might not be the homeliest, but she was hopeful that with a little bit of care and attention she could make it somewhere nice to live. Perhaps hopeful was the wrong word to use. Maybe overly optimistic might have been a better choice. She sighed, trying not to feel a little deflated. Saoirse's own start in life had not been a good one and she tried to remind herself that nowhere on earth could ever be as bad as that hellish place she had once been forced to call home.
"I know it's not the Ritz like, but it's only a startin' place."
Saoirse turned and smiled at her fiancé as he spoke with the thick Scottish burr that she found unbelievably attractive and strangely relaxing as well. Tall and heavily built, he had not worked up even a little bit of a sweat and he had carried a lot more up than she had. She leaned back against his chest as he put an arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head. He was the reason for her being here, and he was worth it too.
She had first met Joe Eddison six months ago when he had bumped into her, quite literally, on her way home from work. He had sent her flying across the pavement and had offered to buy her a cup of tea and a cake in a nearby cafe by way of apology. Since that day, they had been near enough inseparable. He was tall and slim with hair the colour of sand and brown eyes that had mirrored the sky above them when he had pulled Saoirse to her feet. Their relationship had been a whirlwind one with Joe proposing to Saoirse just one month into them seeing one another, but they both knew it felt right. Saoirse had never been so happy, and she believed herself to be incredibly blessed to have a partner who looked at her the way Joe did. He made her feel safe and important which was something she had not felt for many years. When Joe had been offered a job with better wages than the one he was employed at currently, Saoirse hadn't even thought twice about coming to Birmingham with him. After all it wasn't as though she had any family ties to keep her where she was.
"Sure you're not regretting taking this job and giving up the chance to go back to your family in Glasgow?" she asked, turning her neck to peer at him.
"Not at all," he smirked, kissing her soundly on the lips. " I could be sleepin' on the streets and I wouldnae care as long as I had you. And besides, they can visit once we're settled somewhere else. My Ma's already desperate to meet her future daughter in law."
The thought of meeting Joe's family filled Saoirse with equal measures of dread and excitement. She had spoken to the woman briefly on the telephone and she sounded lovely; truly as warm and genuine as her son, but Saoirse was worried that once they met her and found out about her childhood, they would want nothing more to do with her. She decided she wouldn't think about that now though.
"You're the sweetest, do you know that?" she turned and snaked her arms around his neck.
"Aye, I've been told a few times," he chortled, nuzzling his nose against hers. "I don't know about you but I'm ready for bed.
"You've not eaten dinner yet."
"I'm knackered; I think I'd rather just get some sleep. You comin'?"
"I'm going to stay up for a little longer," Saoirse decided. "I just want to try and unpack some of these boxes and make this place look a little more like ours, but you get yourself to bed; you've got work in the morning."
"Alright love," Joe smiled. " But don't stay up too late cos the bed's cold without you in it. "
"I won't," she promised.
The winter sun shone annoyingly bright through the living room window causing Saoirse to open her eyes and squint. She turned her head and groaned as her neck protested in agony to her having slept on the uncomfortably lumpy sofa all night. She couldn't remember what time she had eventually nodded off but all she knew was that had it been summer, the birds would have been singing their dawn chorus. Despite reassuring Joe that she wouldn't come to bed too late, once she had started unpacking their belongings, she had been unable to stop until everything had a place of its own. Then, tiptoeing quietly around the flat as Joe slept, she had promised herself she would just do a little cleaning while she was still full of energy. However, well into the early hours of the morning she had washed the curtains and hung them over the living room door to dry, smiling at how pretty the pale green colour was now that they were clean once more. She had crawled on her hands and knees scrubbing at the threadbare grey carpets until the stains of the previous tenants were a distant memory, and when she eventually collapsed onto the sofa to rest for a few minutes before bed, she had fallen asleep with a satisfied smile.
Stretching her arms above her head, Saoirse noticed the blanket that covered her legs and she smiled as she brought it to her nose and caught a faint scent of Joe's spicy cologne. His shift started at six and she hated to think that he gone out into the dark and cold without a warm breakfast in his belly, but she would make up for it by making sure she cooked his favourite for dinner that night. But first she would need to go out to the shops and actually buy the ingredients because their cupboards were empty aside from some milk and porridge oats and not much more. The opportunity to have a look around her new neighbourhood was an exciting prospect but the effort required to heat up water for a bath was something Saoirse definitely didn't possess that morning, so she made do with a cold strip wash to freshen up instead. Once dressed and her wild hair tamed into some sort of neatly acceptable style, Saoirse headed out for her first proper look around her new home.
Small Heath, it turned out, was a lot like Bootle. Walking through the tenement blocks and terraced houses, she had to manoeuvre her way through children running wild in hand-me-down clothes and bedding blowing in the wind as housewives used the dry winter weather to get their beds changed while they could. The main shopping street was busy and chalkboard signs sat proudly outside every shop advertising the best deals, and mothers walked together with their prams and baskets as they did their daily shopping. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and as Saoirse walked around there were a lot of curious glances in her direction. At first, she had wondered if perhaps she had something on her face or she had torn her stockings, given the way people were staring and muttering in her direction. Eventually it was the buxom older lady who ran the fruit and vegetable shop who asked Saoirse outright if she was new to the area.
"…Because even if I didn't recognise your face, which is unusual because I know everyone around here, that accent of yours most certainly gives you away."
"I am new around here actually," Saoirse nodded politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear nervously. " I just moved here from Liverpool yesterday. "
"Liverpool, eh? What made you move here then?" the woman asked as she bagged up the potatoes and carrots Saoirse requested, pausing briefly to shout at a young boy who had snuck in to try and steal an apple. When the little boy looked at her through long lashes, the stern looking facade crumbled and the woman told him to take his apple and bugger off before she gave him a good hiding, but she couldn't control the amused twitch of her lips as the little lad scarpered off, shouting a breathy thank you.
"Oh, my fiancé got a job as assistant foreman in the BSA factory, and it was too good of an opportunity to turn down," Saoirse explained. " We're living up off Garrison Lane. "
"The two of you? Living together? Alone?" the woman eyed Saoirse almost haughtily. "Can't say I'd be happy with either of my girls moving in with a man they're not married to. "
Saoirse flushed with embarrassment because she knew she was living in sin, but it wasn't as if she had anyone in her life who cared either way, and after being denied happiness most of her life she had grabbed it while she had the chance. When she had initially stalled at the idea of moving in with Joe, that had been his reasoning and it really was rather sound in all honesty. Life was short and she knew that more than most, so she had taken the leap and she didn't regret it.
"Oh, ignore that old bag," a young woman's booming voice sounded next to her. " Marge, everyone knows that before you were married you had more men than hot dinners so cut the girl some slack, eh?"
"You cheeky cow," Marge let out a laugh that came right from deep in her stomach and ended in her throat with the choking rasp of a heavy smoker. " She is right though, girl, I've been around a bit in my time and I bloody well enjoyed it. But take a leaf out of my book when I tell you that it's alright to let them have a taste of the goods but give them the whole thing to eat and they'll be gone before you can even think about setting a date."
"Judging by that ring on her finger, I reckon he's planning on staying," the young woman grinned at Saoirse, yanking her hand up to look at the simple band on her ring finger. " Christ, when my husband proposed to me the best he could manage was a piece of string and I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. Perhaps I should divorce him and tell him to try again cos I realise I was well and truly duped now."
"Keep tight hold of that, love," Marge peered over her stall to get a good look at the ring. " Cos around here someone'll chop your finger off so they can get that and not think twice about it. "
"She's having you on, don't worry," the younger woman with dark hair and almond eyes smirked. "I'm Mary Sheeran; the most Irish name there has ever been thanks to my very Irish and very Catholic mother. What's your name then Miss Fancy Ring."
"I'm Saoirse. Saoirse O'Reilly."
"Oh Christ, you win on the Irish name game for sure," Mary snorted. " At least yours is a bit more unusual than Mary cos I know at least nine just on my street alone, but I ' ve yet to meet any Saoirses. "
"If it makes you feel any better, I've never met another either," Saoirse chuckled, reaching out for her bag from Marge and handing over some money. "It's nice to meet you."
"You wanna watch this one," Marge cackled as she passed Saoirse her change. " She's a right gossip. "
"Says you," Mary pulled a face. "Say anything in this shop and before you get to the next shop the whole of fucking Birmingham knows about it. Look at her face; she can't even deny it cos it's true."
"Well, I can't help that my mouth just opens of its own accord, can I?" Marge chortled.
"Yeah, you can say that again," Mary smirked. " Anyway, I'll see you later Mum; try not to offend any more customers and I'll see you at six for dinner. "
Saoirse almost choked when she realised that the duo were mother and daughter, but then she wondered how she had not noticed that they both had the same eyes that twinkled playfully as they joked with each other or the same dimple in their chin.
"Come on, Saoirse," Mary took her by the arm. " I've decided that seeing as we look to be about the same age that we're going to be friends, cos I'm well and truly fed up with the gossips and slappers around here."
"You're only saying that cos you can't keep your gob shut long enough to keep any friends," Marge snorted, laughing loudly as her daughter gave her the middle finger before dragging Saoirse back outside onto the street.
Mary, who it turned out was aged twenty-three as well, walked Saoirse here, there and everywhere introducing her to everyone they came across, and soon enough Saoirse began to feel like she wasn't sticking out like a sore thumb any longer. Mary told Saoirse all about her three children, who in her words she loved to death, but they were little hooligans and she sometimes wished she had never had them; especially not so young.
"Honestly, I said to our Pete the other day, that unless he starts putting something on the end of it– if you catch my drift– then he's not coming near me again cos I don't wanna be popping out any more kids. My fanny's practically cringing thinking about it."
Saoirse couldn't help but find Mary's outspokenness endearing. It almost made her feel as though she had known the other woman for a long time. It almost made her feel as though she was already a good friend and not someone she had just met only half an hour before.
"So, when are you two gonna get married?" Mary asked, waving to another young woman who she told Saoirse was her sister- in- law, and a right snooty cow who thinks she's too good for the area. " She's a right fucking one honestly. If we weren't family, I'd punch her in the face. Anyway, so will the wedding be soon?"
"Oh no," Saoirse shook her head. " I mean we haven't really spoken about it but we're not particularly in a rush or anything, especially now that we've just moved. I've not even got a job yet, so we definitely aren't thinking about paying out for a wedding."
"Oh girl, that's why you need to get married as soon as possible because then you won't have to go to work cos you can get yourself up the duff," Mary grinned. " Why do you think I've popped three out one after the other? "
Saoirse chuckled but inside she felt sick at the thought of ever having children. After her own tumultuous childhood, she knew that the thought of raising children of her own terrified her. It was just the responsibility of it all. It would be so easy to ruin a child's life like hers had been ruined.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she wasn't particularly paying attention to where she was going and walked right into something which sent her sprawling onto the floor rather indelicately. It turned out that the some thing was actually a some one and when a man with slicked back hair and curious eyes reached out a hand to help her up, she took it without hesitation, completely unaware of Mary's horrified look.
"Are you alright, love?" the man asked, bending down to help retrieve her basket for her. " You might wanna watch where you're walking next time cos if I was a lamppost that could have really hurt. "
"I'm awfully sorry," Saoirse apologised genuinely. " I hope I didn't hurt you? "
"Nah, it'd take more than a slip of a girl to hurt me," the man grinned, and with a polite nod of his head he was gone.
"Here two minutes and you're already looking for trouble," Mary ' s eyes followed the man as he manoeuvred through the crowds of people before falling back on Saoirse. "Do you even know who that even was?"
"Should I know?" Saoirse frowned. Judging by the look on Mary ' s face she should.
"That," Mary looked at her pointedly. " Is Arthur Shelby. "
Saoirse shrugged, wondering if the name was supposed to mean something and Mary looked appalled by her lack of reaction. With a sigh, Mary grabbed her by the arm and insisted that Saoirse come back to her house for a cup of tea because quite clearly there was a lot she needed to learn about life in Birmingham.