by Ellie Dean
She came to a halt, standing there in the deserted scullery, hearing the lively chatter in the kitchen above her as cold reality washed over her. There had been times when she’d wondered about his hearing, for he didn’t seem to notice the sirens or the exploding bombs, nor even the terrible shrieking of enemy fighter planes as they streaked overhead. William slept through air raids and the clatter and noise of a busy house. Yet he responded to her voice and touch, returning her smiles and becoming fractious when he needed changing or feeding. Perhaps he was just contented – a naturally sweet-natured baby who was used to loud noises and took no notice of them?
Julie pulled back the covers and lifted him out of the pram. He waved his arms about and grabbed a strand of her hair in his fist, dribbling with delight. She clicked her fingers close to his left ear, and then to his right. He didn’t respond – but then perhaps he was concentrating too much on pulling her hair to notice.
She blinked away her tears and held him close. All the excuses in the world couldn’t allay the fears that had lain dormant until today. But now they’d been woken, she had no choice in the matter. She would have to ask Dr Michael to check him over.
‘But we’ll leave all that until Monday,’ she whispered to him. ‘With Rose coming home tomorrow, we don’t want to spoil things for Peggy.’ She took a moment to compose herself and then carried him upstairs.
Peggy couldn’t bear to see Anne’s distress, and she’d left Martin at her bedside, seeking refuge in the almost deserted corridor outside the ward. She could absolutely understand that a surgical ward was no place for a young baby – and yet it was all so unfair. Poor Anne, and poor little Rose Margaret; they needed one another and should be together in these first few very important months, but Anne’s leg injury made that impossible.
She peeked through the round window in the swing door and watched as Martin put his arm around Anne, their tiny daughter lying between them. Dear Martin, he was such a good man and he was trying so hard to do the best for his little family. However, he could only snatch a few hours away from the airbase, and even these short respites were often interrupted by enemy raids.
She sighed as she watched them. At least he was no longer flying, which gave Anne some comfort, but airfields weren’t the safest place to be these days, and his new role as Air Commodore meant he was often sent to other bases, and he could be away from Cliffehaven for days at a time.
Peggy turned from the window and hobbled back down the corridor. Her feet still troubled her, and she hated going out in Ron’s slippers, but the stitches would be taken out the next day and she hoped that would be an end to it. There were so many things to be done, so many people who needed her, and she was frustrated at being so hampered.
She reached the vast hall and made her way down the steps and into the sunshine. It was a lovely Sunday afternoon, with a brisk breeze coming from the sea, and fluffy white clouds scudding across the blue sky: a perfect day for Rose Margaret’s homecoming, if it hadn’t been for the regular noisy comings and goings of the RAF planes from the local base.
She eyed the pram she’d left by the steps. All her children had been carried in it, and although it was a bit battered and shabby, it was right that the next generation should use it. With a wry smile she settled comfortably on a low pillar at the bottom of the steps, took the packet of Park Drive out of her pocket and lit a cigarette. It could be a while before Cissy settled down to marriage and babies; she was having far too good a time at Cliffe airbase and hardly ever came home now. And yet Peggy had few qualms over Cissy’s undoubtedly hectic social life, for despite her rather dizzy ways, she had a sensible head on her shoulders and wouldn’t do anything rash that might jeopardise her reputation or her freedom.
Peggy smoked her cigarette, her thoughts drifting to Julie, who was living proof of how hard it was to raise a child without the benefit of a husband. The poor girl worked long hours and was often exhausted by the time she came home. Yet she’d proved to be a caring, attentive mother to little William, and was never too tired to look after him, even if he woke in the night.
Peggy was glad Julie had fitted in so well at Beach View and that she and the other girls got on famously. She was even making friends through Kath Carter, and Peggy had been delighted to babysit while they went to the pictures or the theatre. A young woman like that needed friends and the stability of a good, settled home after all she’d been through. There was still sadness in Julie’s eyes, and Peggy could only hope that time and distance would eventually chase that sadness away. How the girl would cope if the father turned up and took William from her didn’t bear thinking about, for it was clear that she loved William as her own.
‘There you are!’ Martin’s voice broke into her thoughts. He smiled at Peggy as he carefully carried Rose Margaret down the steps. ‘I’ve never felt more nervous,’ he admitted as he handed her over. ‘All those stairs and slippery corridors to navigate – I was convinced I’d drop her.’
Peggy returned his smile. ‘She was in the safest pair of hands I know,’ she assured him as she tucked the baby warmly into the old pram. ‘How was Anne when you left her?’
Martin smoothed his handlebar moustache and adjusted his heavily decorated uniform cap. ‘Tearful, which is hardly surprising,’ he said sadly. ‘But I’ve promised she’ll see Rose every day without fail, even if I’m not around.’
Peggy began to wheel the pram across the broad turning circle towards the large pillars that had once held ornate iron gates. ‘Don’t worry,’ she murmured, enjoying the feel of pushing a pram again. ‘I’ll make sure they have as much time together as possible.’
‘That is very good of you, Peggy. I wish I could be more help, but . . .’
‘You have heavy responsibilities, and it’s my pleasure to look after her, so we’ll say no more about it,’ she said firmly. They walked in silence for a while, enjoying an easy companionship and the lovely day.
‘I went to see my parents last weekend,’ he said as they reached the line of small shops which were shuttered and abandoned on this Sunday afternoon.
Peggy glanced at him, hearing the bitterness in his tone and knowing how deeply hurt he was that his parents still couldn’t accept her Anne as his wife – not even now they had their first grandchild.
‘They said all the right things, of course, but with my sister’s wedding arrangements in full flood, they found plenty of excuses not to come and visit.’ He dug his hands into the pockets of his dark blue uniform jacket, his chin tucked close to his shirt collar. ‘I do so wish they’d at least try to accept things.’
Peggy remembered his and Anne’s wedding, and how his snooty family had kept themselves to themselves before leaving the reception early – and how tempted she’d been to give that toffee-nosed mother of his a piece of her mind. She hadn’t, of course – it would have spoiled the day for Anne – but Peggy had never forgiven Martin’s family for snubbing her daughter, and it was probably best they stayed well away from Cliffehaven, for she might not be able to hold back the next time they met.
‘Perhaps, once Rose is a bit bigger, you could take her to see them,’ she suggested. ‘After all, who can resist such a sweet baby?’
Martin nodded. ‘Maybe,’ he murmured, ‘but I wouldn’t count on it. Ma and Pa are very set in their ways, and once they’ve made their mind up about something, nothing short of an earthquake would shift them.’
Peggy simmered with resentment but said nothing. This was a happy day and Martin’s family could go hang for all she cared. She wasn’t going to spoil Rose’s homecoming by giving them another thought.
Chapter Thirteen
‘HELLO, DUCKS.’ MAUD looked up as she continued to wipe the damp cloth over the black-and-white tiles. ‘You’re early today,’ she said cheerfully.
Julie usually enjoyed Maud’s welcome, but she was too on edge this Monday morning to stand about gossiping. ‘Is Dr Michael in yet?’ she asked.
Maud sat back on her heels, her expression
immediately alert. ‘You don’t want to be bothering him at this time of the morning, dearie,’ she said. ‘He’s been up half the night with poor old Mrs Wells and needs a bit of time to hiself before the rush starts.’
Julie dithered and then decided she simply couldn’t wait any longer. Carefully crossing the damp floor, she went into the waiting room. Thankfully there was no sign of Eunice and, emboldened, she tapped lightly on his consulting room door.
‘Come in.’
Julie closed the door behind her and shot him a tentative smile as he stood to welcome her. ‘Please, don’t get up,’ she protested. ‘You look ever so tired, and I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to ask your advice about something.’
He waved her to the chair in front of his desk and sat back down, his dark eyes regarding her questioningly. ‘What is it, Julie?’
‘It’s about William,’ she said quietly. As she told him all the worries that had plagued her over the weekend, she immediately felt better about things. It had been so hard to bottle it all up, to say nothing amid the excitement of Rose coming home.
‘I’m not a specialist in these things, Julie,’ he said when she’d finished, ‘but I know a man who is, and I think you should take William to see him as soon as possible.’
Julie twisted her hands in her lap. ‘So you do think there might be something to worry about?’
He smiled his gentle smile and rose from his chair to come and sit on the corner of the desk. ‘I think you’ve worried yourself enough and now it’s time to get an expert opinion. Whatever the outcome, you’ll feel much better for it.’
‘You’re right,’ she replied softly. ‘I’ve barely slept all weekend.’
He grinned and returned to his chair. ‘I know just how you feel,’ he replied, reaching for the telephone. ‘But try not to worry. I’ll call Sam Watson now and see if he can fit you and William in later today. Why don’t you go and make yourself a cup of tea, and I’ll come and find you when I have some news.’
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, ‘but could we keep this to ourselves? I don’t want your father or Eunice using this as an excuse to dismiss me.’
‘Good heavens,’ he spluttered. ‘You’re far too valuable to dismiss – and William’s care is a private thing. Don’t you worry, Julie, anything you say to me in here will go no further. Now make that tea and try to relax.’
Julie left his room and headed for the small staff kitchen which was on the other side of the large square hall.
‘You look much happier,’ said Maud as she carried the bucket to the sink and poured the dirty water down the drain. ‘Had a face like a wet weekend, you did earlier.’ She grinned up at Julie, her dentures slipping. ‘Dr Michael’s lovely, isn’t he? Ever so kind, and I reckon he’s taken quite a liking to you, young Julie.’
Julie had no intention of getting drawn into this and merely returned her smile. ‘A cup of tea, Maud?’ she asked instead, reaching for the cups and saucers.
‘Better not,’ Maud replied with a grimace. ‘That Eunice will be here in a minute and I haven’t finished tidying the waiting room.’ The bucket clanged as she stowed it beneath the sink, and then, armed with duster and polish, she waddled off.
Julie made a pot of tea and took a cup to Michael, who acknowledged it with a nod as he carried on talking on the telephone. She left him to it and returned to the kitchen, her nerves in tatters.
Having drunk two cups of tea, she felt slightly better, and, rather than hanging about doing nothing, which would give her too much time to think, she began the Monday morning ritual of checking the contents of her medical bag. She replaced cotton wool and gauze, scrubbed her instruments until they shone, changed the lining in the bag and buffed up the leather. Old habits die hard, and she found some comfort in the familiar weekly task.
She heard Eunice come in and head straight for the waiting room, where it sounded as if poor Maud was getting a tongue lashing for leaving smears on her desk. Then she heard Michael’s voice, and his purposeful footsteps approaching across the hall, and suddenly all her nervousness returned.
He came into the kitchen and placed his cup and saucer on the drainer. ‘Don’t look so worried,’ he said kindly. ‘I’ve spoken to Sam Watson, and he’ll see you and William at five-thirty in his hospital consulting room.’
‘How much will it cost?’ she asked fearfully.
‘His initial consultation will cost nothing.’ He smiled at her look of surprise. ‘We were at med school together, and he owes me several fairly hefty favours which I’ve called in.’ His smile became a grin. ‘Sam was a bit wild back then, and I could tell a tale or two, but he’s turned into a first-class paediatrician who specialises in ears, nose and throat.’
‘Thanks ever so,’ she murmured.
‘Would you like me to come with you? Only I know how daunting these consultations can be, and it’s likely you’ll be so tense, you won’t take in half of what he tells you.’
‘Would you really?’ she breathed. ‘You don’t mind? But what about your evening surgery?’
‘I’ve already spoken to Father, and he’s agreed to do it.’
Without thinking, Julie grasped his hand. ‘Thanks, Michael. I really appreciate everything—’
‘Sister Harris.’ Eunice appeared in the kitchen doorway, her expression stony as her gaze latched onto the entwined hands, which swiftly flew apart. ‘You have a busy day and there is no time for dawdling,’ she snapped. ‘Dr Michael, your first patient is waiting.’ Turning sharply on her heel, she stomped away.
Julie blushed as she caught Michael’s twinkling eyes.
‘Oops,’ he said. ‘I think we’ve upset our estimable Sister Beecham. We’d better get on, or we’ll never hear the end of it.’
Julie knew for certain that Eunice would make her pay for that little indiscretion and steeled herself for the awkward moment when she’d have to face her again. ‘I’ll meet you outside the hospital at five-fifteen,’ she replied quietly.
Michael strode off and Julie took a moment to compose herself before picking up her medical bag and following him. The waiting room was already packed, the redoubtable Eunice behind her desk. Julie noted the frosty glare but hoped Eunice was too much of a professional to start an argument in front of the patients.
She took the list from Eunice and quickly scanned through it, noting it was even longer than usual. ‘I will need to finish me round by four o’clock this afternoon,’ she said firmly. ‘These six patients can either be dealt with by the volunteers or wait until tomorrow.’
Eunice’s cold blue eyes regarded her for a long, silent moment. ‘Why do you need to leave early?’
‘I have something important to do and can’t be late.’
‘Nothing is more important than your patients, Sister Harris.’
‘Maybe not, but in this instance, it’s vital I finish early.’
‘Why?’
‘That,’ said Julie quietly, ‘is none of your business.’
The gaze was steely. ‘I do not approve of your conduct,’ Eunice said, quietly, obviously aware they could be overheard, ‘and if I see you behaving in that way with Dr Michael again, I will have you dismissed.’
Julie didn’t flinch beneath that glare. ‘Please rearrange me schedule, Sister Beecham,’ she said flatly, ‘or I will be forced to do it meself.’
Eunice’s mouth thinned as she snatched the list and turned her attention to adjusting all three schedules. She handed it back with little grace and Julie hurried out of the waiting room as Dr Sayers Senior buzzed for his next patient.
Both babies were yelling fit to bust, and as Harvey sought refuge in the cellar from the noise, Peggy and Mrs Finch hurried to change their nappies as the formula warmed. Blessed silence fell as Rose and William greedily latched onto their feeding bottles and both women sighed with relief.
‘There are times,’ said Mrs Finch, ‘that I’m glad I don’t have that new hearing aid. I’d forgotten how a baby’s cry can go right through one’
s head.’ She softly ran her finger over William’s fair hair and smiled tenderly. ‘But it is rather lovely having these young ones in the house. Reminds me of when mine were little.’
Peggy smiled and nodded as she hugged Rose, but she could see the wistfulness in the older woman’s eyes and knew she still yearned for her own sons and their families. It must have been very hard for her when they’d left for Canada – harder still now there were grandchildren she would never see. Families could break your heart, she thought sadly.
Harvey had obviously deemed it safe to return and was now slumped by Peggy’s feet, his watchful gaze flitting between the two women.
She looked down at him fondly, knowing he’d taken on the role of guardian to the babies, and that he spent a good deal of his time lying by the pram as they slept. ‘Good boy, Harvey,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll give you a treat when I’ve finished here.’
He waggled his eyebrows and thumped his tail on the floor in anticipation.
Peggy looked back at Mrs Finch. She’d been worried that it all might be too much for the old lady, but she’d rolled up her sleeves and willingly joined in the endless round of feeding, changing and washing, and now seemed very contented as she fed William. ‘I tried to get the new hearing aid mended,’ she said. ‘But it’s beyond repair.’
‘I’m so sorry, Peggy. It was terribly clumsy of me, and I know how expensive it must have been, but my pension comes through next week, so I can pay you back.’
Peggy knew how meagre that pension was. ‘No you won’t,’ she said quickly. ‘It was a gift, and I’ll not take a penny for it.’
Mrs Finch eyed her over her half-moon glasses rather sternly, and then broke into a warm smile. ‘Then I’ll just have to find another way of paying you back.’ She looked down at William, who’d fallen asleep, and took the half-empty bottle away. ‘He doesn’t eat enough,’ she fretted, lifting him to her shoulder and patting his back. ‘No wonder he’s so small.’
