by Nancy Revell
‘Great! So, I shall see you tomorrow at nine.’
‘Yes, yes, nine o’clock,’ Bel repeated. She still couldn’t quite believe she’d got the job.
She turned to leave.
‘Oh, do I need to bring anything with me? A pad or pencil?’
Bel immediately felt foolish for asking.
‘Just yourself!’ Marie-Anne reassured.
As Bel turned to open the office door a huge horn sounded out, making her jump.
‘You’ll get used to it!’ Marie-Anne laughed. ‘See you tomorrow!’
As soon as Bel stepped outside she saw that the whole yard had come to a virtual standstill.
A huge hook dangling from a nearby crane was still swinging, but the crane’s operator, a young boy who looked barely out of short trousers, was jumping out of the metal cabin and shouting over to a group of other young lads milling around a brazier, rolling cigarettes and joking around.
Spotting Polly and the rest of the women welders making their way over to a spot by the quayside, Bel hurried across the yard to join them. As she did so she saw a group of blacksmiths, their faces red and sweaty, blinking in the light as they emerged from the darkness of the forge.
Bel felt as though she had been transported into a different world.
As she reached the women, Dorothy was the first to spot her.
‘Pol’s not forgotten her bait again, has she?’
‘No,’ Bel laughed.
‘Everything all right?’ Polly asked, although she could tell by Bel’s demeanour that, thankfully, her sister-in-law was not the harbinger of any more bad news.
‘Yes, more than all right!’ Bel said as they all crowded around.
‘Go on then, don’t keep us all in suspense,’ Polly demanded. ‘What’s up?’
Bel looked at the women welders.
‘I’ve just got a job!’
Six dirty faces broke out into smiles.
‘Eee, that’s brilliant!’ Martha said. ‘Where?’
‘Here!’ Bel chuckled. ‘I’ve got Sylvia’s old job.’
‘Well, congratulations!’ Rosie said, although she too, like Marie-Anne, was surprised Bel would want to work in a shipyard.
‘Oh. My. God!’ Dorothy grabbed Angie’s arm in mock horror. ‘That means you’re going to be working within spitting distance of the Witch.’
Bel looked at Dorothy and Angie for an explanation.
‘Helen!’ they said in unison.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Polly sounded put out. ‘I didn’t think you were looking for a job – especially one here.’
‘Bit spur of the moment, really,’ Bel confessed.
‘Have you told our Joe?’ Polly asked.
Bel couldn’t keep the guilt from showing on her face – for not having told Joe, but also Polly.
‘No, I didn’t think I’d get it, to be honest. But Marie-Anne was really nice – said it didn’t matter I couldn’t type, and that she thought I’d be perfect for the job.’
‘Well, I’m sure Joe won’t mind,’ Polly said, although she did wonder whether he might feel that it should be him working in the yard, instead of the two women in the family.
‘When do you start?’ Martha asked.
‘Tomorrow!’ Bel’s eyes widened.
‘Blimey,’ Martha said.
‘Well, I think that’s a good thing,’ Gloria said. ‘No time to get nervous or anything.’
‘Oh, Gloria, I’m so sorry. I should have really asked you first. You’re not worried about me abandoning Hope, are you?’ Bel asked, guiltily.
‘Yer dafty, yer don’t have to check with me first. I’m just lucky I’ve had yer looking after Hope fer so long – ’n it’s not as if there won’t be anyone else to look after her.’
In fact, Gloria felt strangely relieved.
Like the fastest runner had just dropped out of the race, giving her the chance to reclaim the lead position.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Any more for any more?’ The ticket collector made his way down the carriage, looking from left to right, stopping occasionally to take someone’s fare.
Sitting on the eleven o’clock train to Ryhope, a village three miles south of the town, Helen looked out the window at the passing farmland. The local service, which went as far as Seaham further down the coast, was slow, but Helen didn’t mind. She had given herself most of the day off, glad to leave the interviewing for the new admin assistant’s job to Marie-Anne.
Opening her handbag and pulling out her compact, Helen checked her reflection. She was reassured to see that the attractive, made-up face that stared back at her showed no signs of what was really going on in her head.
When the train pulled into Ryhope station, Helen carefully stepped down onto the platform, making a point of closing the carriage door firmly behind her.
Soon, she thought, she would be closing the door on a part of her life that she never again wanted to revisit. When all of this was over and done with, she would happily wipe the past seven months from her memory for ever.
Thank God she had realised that there was a way she could erase from her life for good the debacle of her relationship with Theodore and start afresh.
Although, why she hadn’t thought of it beforehand, she had no idea.
It was the one thing, Helen thought bitterly, for which she had her mother to thank.
Overhearing her words last week, it was as though a light had suddenly been switched on – a light that had finally enabled her to see her way through the darkness.
‘Helen! It’s lovely to see you!’
Dr Parker put his hand out to greet Helen as she walked down the main pathway to the entrance of the Ryhope Emergency Hospital, originally built to cope with the hundreds of injured soldiers shipped back from Dunkirk. He had recently asked to be transferred here from the town’s main hospital, which was where he’d originally got to know Helen when her father was ill.
‘Dr Parker!’ Helen put out her hand.
When she had come to the Ryhope to tell Theo she was pregnant, and had instead found out he was married and had gone back to Oxford to be with his wife and children, Dr Parker had told her to call on him if she ever needed to. They were words that had come back to her this past week, and which had propelled her to ask him to meet her today.
‘Please call me John,’ Dr Parker insisted with a smile. ‘Otherwise I’m going to start calling you Miss Crawford.’
‘All right … John.’ Helen forced a smile; she was feeling more nervous than she’d anticipated.
‘Are you happy to walk around the grounds while we chat? Only, it’s such a beautiful day. I can’t remember the last time I felt the sun.’ Dr Parker lifted his face slightly to the skies, revelling in the feel of the sun’s warm rays on his skin.
‘Of course,’ Helen said, glad to be outdoors herself.
‘Not that I’m complaining.’ Dr Parker drew his attention back to Helen as they started to walk. ‘Not when I see the states some of our boys are coming back in.’
His face clouded over and Helen saw that her father’s former doctor had dark circles under his eyes, and his pallor was indeed that of someone who rarely went outdoors.
‘But,’ Helen said sadly, thinking of Tommy, ‘at least they have made it back.’
Dr Parker looked at Helen.
‘Have you lost someone?’ he asked, concerned. These days it seemed unusual to meet someone who hadn’t.
‘A friend,’ Helen said. ‘He’s been classed as “missing”, but I think we all know what that means.’
Dr Parker nodded. ‘Army?’
‘Navy,’ Helen said, her eyes stinging with the beginnings of tears. ‘A diver. A naval clearance diver.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I knew him from when I was small. He worked the docks for the Wear Commissioner.’
Helen paused for a moment.
‘I loved him,’ she said, simply. Her vision blurred with tears as they both walked in silence for a short while.
; ‘Come, let’s have a sit-down,’ Dr Parker said, taking her gently by the arm and guiding her to one of the wooden benches that had been placed around the hospital grounds.
They both sat quietly for a moment.
Helen dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.
‘Sorry,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘I keep feeling tearful and I don’t seem to have any control over it.’
‘Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing,’ Dr Parker said. ‘Better than keeping it all in. That doesn’t do anyone any good.’
Helen let out a little laugh as she rummaged again in her handbag for her compact and checked that her mascara hadn’t run. ‘It’s no good for your make-up, though.’
Dr Parker turned a little to face Helen. He had felt terribly sorry for her when he had seen her last and he’d had to give her the news that Theodore had gone back down south. He had guessed that Helen was Theo’s latest squeeze but had been unsure whether she knew he was married. Seeing the shock on her face that afternoon had given him his answer.
‘How have you been since I saw you last?’ he asked as gently as possible.
‘I’ll be honest, John, I’ve not been all that marvellous.’ Helen looked at Dr Parker and prayed she could trust him. Prayed he would not be affronted, or angered even, by what she was about to ask him.
‘I don’t know how to say this.’ Helen looked around to make sure no one else was near and could overhear them.
Dr Parker looked at Helen.
‘Well …’ Helen hesitated. ‘The thing is …’
Another pause.
‘The thing is … Dear me, this is difficult.’
‘Go on,’ Dr Parker urged.
‘The thing is …’
Helen finally spat the words out.
‘I’m bloody well pregnant.’
Dr Parker felt his heart sink. He liked Helen a lot. An awful lot. And even though they’d only really spent time discussing her father’s health, he felt as though he knew her.
‘Would I be right in guessing that the father is Theodore?’
Helen nodded.
‘Have you told him?’
Helen shook her head.
‘Is that why you came to the hospital a few weeks ago?
To tell him?’
Helen nodded again.
‘And the reason you’re here again today is because … ?’ Dr Parker let the question hang in the air.
‘Because I wanted to ask if you could help me.’ Helen took a breath. When she had first heard her mother’s words, she had immediately been struck by images conjured up from awful stories of backstreet abortionists, but they had been followed fairly immediately by an image of Dr Parker.
‘When I was here last you said to come and see you if I wanted to chat – or needed anything.’
‘And I meant it,’ Dr Parker said in earnest. ‘Have you thought about what you’re going to do?’
‘I have,’ Helen said, ‘but I don’t know how to go about doing what I want to do, which is why I have come to you.’
Dr Parker was quiet.
‘I don’t want to keep it,’ she said, almost in a whisper. ‘And I thought you might know of someone who can do what they’ve got to do.’
Dr Parker took Helen’s hands in his and forced her to look him in the eye.
‘Have you really thought about this, Helen? I mean really thought about it?’
‘I have,’ Helen said, feeling strangely comforted by his hands on hers.
Dr Parker leant forwards a little. ‘You do understand that such procedures are against the law? And that they are not always straightforward?’
‘Yes,’ Helen said. Her throat felt dry. ‘But not anywhere near as risky as if I were to go elsewhere.’
This time it was Dr Parker who nodded. He had done a short stint on the gynaecological ward at the Royal in town and had seen a few examples of what happened to a woman after being butchered by some backstreet abortionist.
‘Have you talked to anyone else about this?’ Dr Parker asked.
‘No,’ Helen said, sharply. ‘It’s not anyone else’s business.’
‘What about your mother?’ Dr Parker had met Mrs Crawford. She was a carbon copy of his own mother – completely self-obsessed, totally lacking in any kind of empathy, and without a single maternal bone in her body.
‘No.’ Helen’s reply was curt.
‘Your father?’
‘He’s in Glasgow for the foreseeable. He knows nothing about any of this. Nor will he. Ever,’ Helen stressed.
‘Any friends?’ Dr Parker asked. ‘It would be good for you to talk this through with someone.’
Helen thought about Gloria. She had gone to see her and Hope last night, had nearly told her what she was planning, but had thought better of it. Gloria, she was sure, would try and talk her out of it.
‘I don’t need to talk this through with anyone. I’ve made my mind up.’
Dr Parker looked at Helen.
‘All right, but we’re going to have to talk it all through.
It’s not as easy or as straightforward as it might seem,’ he explained. He felt the heavy weight of responsibility press down on him as he realised that he was the only person Helen had spoken to. How he dealt with this situation could and would have repercussions. Whether he helped her or not. If he refused to be a part of what Helen planned to do, she might well seek help elsewhere, and he dreaded to think of where that could lead.
‘First of all,’ Dr Parker said, ‘I have to ask you, is there no way you would consider actually having the child, either bringing it up yourself or having it adopted?’
‘No. And no,’ Helen said. Her face was set. Determined.
‘Have you considered talking to Theo about the situation?’ Dr Parker knew he was treading on potentially explosive territory, but it was something he had to ask.
‘Absolutely not. No way!’ Helen could feel her face flush. She still felt a huge well of anger whenever she thought of Theo.
‘Ethically,’ Dr Parker continued, ‘I have to say to you that it is his child as well, and as such some may argue that he should also be involved in the decision.’
‘Well, some people can argue until they are blue in the face, but this is my decision and my decision alone,’ Helen snapped. ‘That man … That lying, cheating coward of a con man has no right to anything. Anything at all.’
Helen could feel her heart thumping in her chest. ‘That’s all right.’ Dr Parker was still holding Helen’s hand. ‘And finally, we have to consider the role of those who can help you in all of this – after all, what you want to do is against the law.’
‘I know,’ Helen said, ‘although why it’s illegal is beyond me.’ She’d never thought about it until now. Why would she? She’d never have guessed in a million years she would find herself in such a nightmarish scenario.
‘I have thought about this,’ she said, ‘and I would, of course, be able to pay a considerable sum, knowing how big a risk it would be.’ Helen let go of Dr Parker’s hand and reached down into her handbag to get her cigarettes. Dr Parker pressed the palms of his hands together as though in prayer. He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his own.
‘I have done some research,’ Helen said, taking a cigarette from the packet of Pall Malls and lighting it. ‘From what I can gather, there have been lots of women’s groups and even male MPs who have been arguing the case for a change in the law for years now.’
Dr Parker nodded, knowing that there would be plenty of doctors like himself who would add their voice to such a campaign.
‘And it would seem that there is also a loophole in the law …’ Helen blew out smoke ‘… which stipulates that if a woman is deemed to be in danger of losing her life by going ahead with a pregnancy, then the termination of that pregnancy is legal.’
On hearing her words Dr Parker realised just how determined Helen was. This was not some spur-of-the-moment decision. She had done her homework.
‘I believe,’ she
continued, ‘it is called a “medically sanctioned” abortion.’
There was a short silence while Dr Parker thought for a moment. He knew from his time working at the Royal of a doctor there who could help – a gynaecologist who, for a decent wad of cash, had ‘helped’ other women of Helen’s social standing.
‘Yes, you’re right, Helen. The only problem is that your present condition is not putting your life in danger as such.’
‘I know,’ Helen said, taking another drag of her cigarette, ‘but from what I have gleaned it is not uncommon for those in the know – and, of course, with enough cash – to be able to find a doctor who might be able to embellish the truth a little … And that such embellishing can be done discreetly? I can, of course,’ Helen said quietly, ‘make sure that you too are given a generous sum for helping me out.’
Dr Parker’s head snapped round to look at Helen.
‘If I do this for you, Helen, it is as a friend. As a person who cares.’
Helen sat up with a jolt. Dr Parker’s eyes burrowed into her own and it was only then that she noticed their colour – a dark brown – and a seriousness she had never seen before.
‘Sorry, John, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t expecting you to do this for nothing.’ Helen hesitated.
Dr Parker watched as Helen tossed her half-smoked cigarette to the ground and sat quietly for a moment.
‘How far along are you?’ Dr Parker asked.
‘About ten … eleven weeks,’ Helen said.
This time it was Dr Parker who was quiet while he considered the options.
He knew that for the right price this particular doctor at the Royal would do what Helen wanted, and that with the world at war, any concerns about the legality of what she wanted done would probably be overlooked.
‘Give me a call on Saturday,’ Dr Parker said. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Helen stood up.
‘Thank you, John. Thank you so much.’
Dr Parker followed suit and got to his feet. He was surprised when Helen took his arm as they walked back to the hospital entrance. What a fool she had been to give herself to someone like Theodore. He knew that if Helen had a baby out of wedlock, and with a man who was already married, her life would, to all intents and purposes, be ruined. This was Helen’s way of getting her life back.
