by Ellie Dean
‘Aye, I know. Didn’t you get my letter?’ As Julie shook her head he gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Never mind, I’m here now, and there’s plenty of time to catch up on things.’ He looked down at the crutches, his smile fading. ‘Happen I’m not going anywhere in a hurry.’
Julie’s gaze drifted to the large, manly finger still coiled into William’s tiny fist. The pain in her heart was almost unbearable as she realised she was about to lose the baby she had come to think of as her own. Tears pricked as all the hopes and dreams of their future together died.
He must have read the agony in her expression, for he patted her hand. ‘Eee, lass,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’m reet sorry if I’ve caused you trouble, but he’s my son – mine and Franny’s. He’s what I fought for, what I lost me leg for. Happen it’s only reet he comes back with me to Yorkshire where he belongs.’
She understood, of course she did, but that didn’t make it any easier. ‘Who will look after him there?’ she asked tearfully. ‘I don’t want that Charity going anywhere near him.’
‘No need to mither, lass,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I heard what she said, and told her to say nowt more.’ His brown eyes twinkled with humour. ‘I’m not like me mam, Julie. I speaks me mind and won’t tek Charity’s bullying. She’ll not be looking after babby.’
‘Who then?’ she persisted.
‘Me, and me mam and dad. We’ll bring him oop on farm and teach him to be a good Yorkshireman.’ He looked down with a soft smile as William stirred in his sleep. ‘We’ll soon have him fit and strong again, and he’ll grow oop knowing he’s loved.’
‘I love him too,’ she said. ‘From almost the moment he was born, and I can’t bear the thought I might never see him again.’
His eyes widened in surprise. ‘Why, lass, you’ll always be welcome to visit. We won’t let him forget you, you can be sure of that.’
Julie knew she was clutching at straws, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘But will your parents be able to cope with such a young baby? His health is delicate and—’
‘There you go, mithering again,’ he said softly. ‘And there’s nowt to fret thee, lass. You’ll see.’ He looked over her shoulder and beckoned. ‘Me parents come down with me on train. Happen they’ve waited long enough to be introduced to their grandson.’
Julie turned as the middle-aged couple walked hesitantly towards her. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his face weathered by the elements. She was small and round like a cottage loaf, with apple cheeks and bright eyes. They both looked a little self-conscious in what Julie suspected were their best clothes, but they certainly bore no resemblance to the dreadful Charity.
‘How do,’ said Bill’s father. He was clearly a man of few words, and he turned away, clasped his roughened hands behind his back and leaned over the cot. He nodded with approval. ‘Seems a right little bobby dazzler,’ he muttered.
This was clearly regarded as huge praise, for Bill’s smile lit up his face.
Bill’s mother turned from the cot and placed her hand on Julie’s arm. ‘You’re to call me Edith,’ she said softly, ‘and you’re not to fret, lass. I’ll look after babby as if he were me own. I promise thee that.’
Julie looked into her sweet face and knew that William would indeed be loved and cared for by these good people. Yet the agony of knowing her time with him would soon be over was too much to bear, and she was finding it almost impossible to control the tears that threatened to fall.
‘Eee, lass, I know how painful this be,’ Edith crooned as she stroked her arm. ‘I thought I’d lost my boy too – but by some miracle he survived, and although ’tis hard for you to let babby go, our Bill has earned the right to raise his son.’
Julie’s battle with her tears was lost when Edith put her arm about her and drew her to her motherly bosom. The dam broke and she sobbed against her, her heart breaking.
Chapter Twenty-two
FROM THAT DAY on Julie began to withdraw from William. She found it almost impossibly distressing not to go to the hospital and sit with him, but she knew that if she faltered, it would only make their parting harder. She had to learn to live without him – but every hour of the day felt like forever, and her dreams were full of him.
Peggy, bless her, had understood what she was going through, and had quietly removed the cot from her room while she was at work, and placed the lovely pram out of sight in the dining room. The bedroom and hall seemed so empty without them, but it was the next step towards accepting that William was already gone.
‘I’ll take the pram back to the WVS centre,’ said Peggy. ‘Bill won’t be able to take it with him on the train, and I’m sure someone will appreciate it.’
‘Why don’t you keep it, Peg?’
Peggy smiled. ‘The old pram’s still got a lot of use in it, and it’s a bit of a family heirloom. It was good enough for the others, so it will do for this little one.’
Julie folded her arms tightly round her waist, resisting the overwhelming need to rush into the dining room and touch the pram one last time. The memories of wheeling William along the prom and down the High Street were almost too hard to bear, and she realised then that every corner of Beach View Boarding House was redolent with the echoes of the few happy months she’d spent with him here.
‘You’ve decided to go back to London, haven’t you?’ asked Peggy quietly.
Julie nodded. ‘I need to go home now I’m on me own again.’ She regarded Peggy through her tears. ‘You’ve been a diamond, Peg, and I couldn’t have managed without you and all the others. You gave me a home and loving support when I needed it most, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that. But London’s where I belong, and where I know I can learn to put all this behind me and begin again.’
Peggy put her arms round Julie and gave her a hug. ‘We’ll miss you,’ she murmured, ‘and I was hoping you’d be here when this little one arrives. I was rather counting on having the best midwife in the district.’
‘Don’t worry, Peg,’ said Julie, sniffing back her tears. ‘I think you’ll find me replacement will be just as reliable.’
Peggy frowned. ‘You’ve already started making plans to leave?’
Julie nodded. ‘But it’ll be a while yet, so you won’t get rid of me that easily.’ She pulled on the navy blue cardigan over her striped cotton uniform and picked up her medical bag. ‘I’ll see you tonight,’ she said and gave a watery smile before heading down to the basement to fetch her bicycle.
Julie cycled along the seafront towards the surgery, grateful for the sea breeze that chased away the shadows of another restless night and dried her tears. She came to the end of the promenade and stood watching the sea roll in glassy waves against the shingle as the gulls hovered and glided effortlessly on the breeze.
Once Bill’s father had returned to the family farm in the Dales, Peggy had found rooms for Bill and his mother in a nearby private hotel, realising that having them at Beach View would be much too painful for Julie. However, the mother and son had become regular visitors to the house, and Julie still found it difficult to sit and listen as they talked about William’s progress and their plans for the future. They had been here for almost two weeks now, and the time was fast approaching when William would be well enough to make the long journey north.
She gave a trembling sigh and tried very hard to see the positive side of things, for Edith was motherly and capable, and Bill was a good man, his every word and gesture proving that he would be a kind and loving father to precious little William, despite his crippling injuries.
She looked out to the horizon, remembering Bill’s almost dismissive account of how he’d sustained those injuries. Like so many men who’d been through the horrors of war, he was reluctant to go into any real detail, but he’d said enough to paint a very stark picture of what had happened.
He’d been in the desert on reconnaissance with two others when they’d been mown down by enemy fire. His comrades were dead, but despite having a bullet in his t
high, he’d managed to hide among the rocks of a nearby escarpment. With the Germans camped in the dunes below him, he was trapped for several days before he could try and make his way back to his battalion. Then he’d slipped and fallen, breaking his leg so badly he’d passed out with the pain, his identification papers fluttering away to be lost among the desert sands.
The Bedouin had found him some time later, delirious and badly dehydrated. They’d tended his wounds and revived him enough to make the long trek across the desert to an Allied camp where the medics had had little option but to amputate his leg, for gangrene had set in. It was weeks before he was coherent enough to tell anyone who he was.
After a long and difficult recovery in a military hospital in Cairo, he’d finally been repatriated, to find a stack of returned mail waiting for him – and the news that his beloved Franny was dead, but that his son had survived.
Julie gave a deep sigh and turned away from the seafront. Bill had certainly earned the right to be a father to his son, and she knew in her heart that he would make sure William knew who she was, and what she’d done for him in his precious first few months. It was time to accept that and move on.
It was still early and hardly anyone was out, but as she arrived at the surgery, she could see that Maud was already on her knees scrubbing the floor.
‘Morning, ducks,’ she said brightly, glad of the excuse to stop work. ‘Up with the lark, as usual, I see.’ She tilted her head towards Michael’s consulting room. ‘Doc’s already in, if you were wanting a word,’ she said with a knowing smile.
‘Thanks, Maud.’ Julie tiptoed across the damp floor, tapped on Michael’s door and went in.
‘Hello, you’re early,’ he said, standing up as she closed the door behind her. ‘There isn’t a problem with William, is there?’
‘No. His father tells me he’s coming along a treat.’ She adjusted her apron and sat down. ‘Firstly, I wanted to say how grateful I am for all the care you and Mr Watson have taken with him. I don’t think he would have pulled through without you both.’
His dark eyes became watchful as she hesitated. ‘What is it, Sister Harris?’
‘I’ve come to give you me notice,’ she replied. ‘Of course I won’t be leaving immediately, but I’ve been offered the chance to take up a post at me old place in London. They’ll need me to start in four weeks.’
‘But we need you here,’ he blurted.
‘No, you don’t,’ she replied softly. ‘You have three volunteers, Mrs Clough who’s only too delighted to use her nursing skills again, and Eunice. I also heard that another district nurse is starting in three weeks.’
He reddened and couldn’t meet her gaze. ‘That’s true,’ he admitted, ‘but there’s no guarantee she’ll be suitable.’
Julie grinned for the first time in days. ‘Oh, I think you’ll find she is,’ she replied. ‘Alison Chenoweth is an extremely good nurse and midwife, and although you may find her difficult to understand with that Cornish accent of hers, she’ll be an asset to the practice, I promise.’
His eyes widened in astonishment. ‘How on earth do you know so much?’
‘Alison worked with me in London and we’ve stayed in touch. I told her about the post here and she jumped at the chance. She’s a country girl at heart, and this place will suit her just fine.’ She didn’t add that Alison was an imp, and would probably sum up Eunice in a trice and see to it that she was kept on her toes.
‘When I said we needed you here,’ he began hesitantly, ‘it wasn’t the practice I was talking about.’
She regarded him warily as he leaned forward, his arms resting on his desk.
‘You see, I realise now that I shouldn’t have let others influence how I felt about things,’ he continued awkwardly. ‘I know I’ve been somewhat distant and rather formal of late, but I wasn’t at all sure about . . .’ He gave a helpless smile and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, you know.’
Julie took pity on him and gave him a warm smile. ‘I understand completely, Michael. You were led to believe that I was a young, single woman with a baby in tow who was looking for some poor sap of a man to give her a bit of respectability.’
‘That’s not quite how it was put,’ he protested.
‘I bet it’s close enough,’ she replied mildly. ‘But I was never looking for anything more than friendship from you, Michael – and if only you’d come to me and talked it over, I could have set things right between us.’
‘I see,’ he murmured.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, leaning towards him. ‘You’re a lovely man, with a deep sense of responsibility and care for your patients. But you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Michael.’
‘I never presumed—’ he protested.
‘I’m sure you didn’t,’ she said dryly, ‘but if you look at things from where I see them, you might find it easier to understand my feelings on the matter.’ She stood up and smoothed down her apron. ‘I like you, Michael, but I’m not the one who’s in love with you. You need to look closer to home than that.’
She let herself out of the consulting room and bumped straight into Eunice. ‘Dr Michael would probably appreciate a cup of tea,’ she said brightly. ‘And while you’re at it, why don’t you ask him to that fund-raising garden party? I know you happen to have a spare ticket.’
She left the surgery feeling lighter somehow, and as she set off on her rounds, she could feel the tug of London calling her home, and the first stirring of hope that she would come through this time of trauma a stronger, better person.
Julie took up her position on the platform at Cliffehaven Station. It was strange to think how much had happened since she’d arrived there all those months ago. Now the first of September had arrived, and Bill would be taking William to Yorkshire the following morning. She tamped down on the feeling of dread as she waited for the London train to arrive.
Alison Chenoweth emerged from the cloud of steam with a bright smile, dropped her cases and threw herself into Julie’s arms, her words of delight at seeing her again tripping over one another in her excitement.
Julie tried to translate what she was saying, and gave up. It was just lovely to see her again, and to catch up on all the news. She took one of her cases and they set out for Kath Carter’s house, where Alison would be lodging in the spare room.
Kath’s mother was out at work, but the three girls soon settled down in deckchairs to make the most of the end of summer in the pretty garden and to catch up on the gossip. Julie elicited a promise from Alison that she’d take very great care of Peggy, and then put her wise to the ways of the surgery and the budding romance between Eunice and Michael, warning her that Eunice could be tricky.
Kath promised to introduce her to her friends and show her round Cliffehaven, and they both listened as Alison talked about life at the hostel, Lily’s latest young man, Sister Preston’s engagement to a Canadian soldier, and the surprising news that Matron seemed to be getting rather close to one of the senior doctors at the hospital.
‘I be ’earin’ that Stanley you were engaged to got ’is call-up papers and ’e be gorn to be a soldier,’ said Alison some time later. ‘I ’ope ye be none too upset, Julie.’
Julie shook her head, surprised at her lack of caring one way or another. She’d hardly thought about Stan these past months. ‘I thought his job was considered a reserve occupation.’
‘That’s as maybe,’ muttered Alison. ‘But I heard tell he blotted his copybook, and were about to be kicked out of the force. Reckon he jumped afore he were pushed,’ she said with an impish grin.
Julie made no comment, even though she did wonder what Stan had done to get himself the sack. Then all thoughts of Stan were dismissed as she heard the grandfather clock in the hall chime half past seven. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said reluctantly.
Kath and Alison went with her to the door, and as she stepped onto the path, they gathered her into a tight embrace. ‘I’m going to miss you, Kath,’ Julie managed through her t
ears. ‘You’ve been such a good friend.’
Kath returned her hug. ‘I’ll write often, and don’t forget us down here.’
‘I won’t.’ She grinned through her tears at Alison. ‘And try not to wind Eunice up too much – she’s not really that bad.’
Alison pulled a face. ‘I’ll make me own mind up on that.’ She hugged Julie and then gave her a nudge towards the gate. ‘Get you gone, Jules, or I’ll be blabbering.’
Julie closed the gate behind her, gave them one last smile and wave, then hurried down the road. Reaching the entrance to the park, she turned, saw they were still watching, and waved again before she turned away and almost ran through the leafy gardens. It was a day of goodbyes – a day when she had to close the door on this chapter of her life, and steel herself for the next. But it wasn’t quite over – for the hardest goodbye was yet to come.
The ward was quiet, for visiting hour was long over, but Sister Black understood her need to be with William tonight, and kindly agreed to her having some time alone with him.
Julie stood by the cot and watched him play with his fingers. He’d filled out again, she noticed, and seemed to have grown in the long weeks since she’d seen him last. He was changing, she realised, his features becoming more defined, his hair darkening to his father’s brown. But his smile was still Franny’s.
She lifted him from the cot and he grabbed her hair, gurgling with delight as she held him. He filled her arms so perfectly, and his baby skin was soft and sweet-smelling. He had more teeth now, and his eyes were a much darker brown. Soon she wouldn’t recognise him at all.
She kissed his little face, breathed him in for the last time, then put him back in the cot. ‘Goodbye, my darling boy,’ she whispered. ‘You were never really mine, but you’ll be in my heart always.’
Julie did not go to the station the following morning to see Bill and his mother take William away from Cliffehaven, but spent most of the day with Eileen. Then she returned to Beach View Boarding House to pack her cases and prepare for her last night with the Reilly family.
