by Ellie Dean
April followed her into a large square hall that smelled of beeswax and disinfectant. The floor was laid with black and white tiles, the walls were half panelled, and there was a very large chandelier hanging from the ornate ceiling. Three doors led from this imposing hall and Peggy led the way through one of them into what was clearly a waiting room and reception.
The girl behind the desk looked frighteningly efficient and was immaculately groomed. This must be Doctor Sayer’s fiancée, the dreaded Eunice Beecham, April realised, taking in the perfectly made-up face and the rather superior expression.
‘We’ve come to register April,’ said Peggy. ‘She’s just arrived in Cliffehaven and is living with me at Beach View.’
‘Doctor Sayer isn’t taking on any more patients at the moment,’ said the snooty Eunice after giving April a calculating once-over. ‘She will have to be registered with Doctor Bradford. Does she have a letter from her own doctor?’
‘No, I do not,’ said April, who didn’t appreciate being talked about as if she wasn’t present. ‘But I’m happy to be registered with Doctor Bradford, and would like to make an appointment to see him as soon as possible.’
A fiercely plucked blonde eyebrow was lifted and blue eyes regarded her coolly. ‘Doctor Bradford is a very busy man. Is it urgent?’
‘No,’ April admitted. ‘But it is important I see him sooner rather than later.’
Eunice made sure they saw the large diamond engagement ring on her finger as she handed over a form to be filled in, demanded to see April’s identity card and then turned the pages of her appointment book. ‘He can see you at the end of the week during evening surgery at seven o’clock.’
April handed back the form she’d filled in and gave her a bright smile. ‘Thank you, I look forward to meeting him.’
‘Hello, Peggy. Nothing wrong, I hope?’
April turned to see a tall, well-built man in his thirties smiling back at them. Dressed in a lightweight tweed suit and polished brown brogues, he instantly exuded a sense of reliability.
‘Hello, Doctor Sayer. No, I’m all tickety-boo. We’re just registering April with the practice. She’s my latest girl, you know.’
‘I’m delighted to meet you, April.’ His handshake was warm and firm, his smile lighting up deep brown eyes. ‘Look, I have half an hour before the children’s clinic. Why don’t you pop into my surgery now and we can have a chat?’
‘I’ve registered her with Doctor Bradford,’ Eunice piped up. ‘She’s booked in to see him at the end of the week.’
‘Oh, well, I’m sure he won’t mind. He’s very busy at the moment and it seems silly for April to have to wait when I can just as well do the preliminaries.’ He stood back and indicated she should go through into his consulting room.
April glanced at the clock, then turned to Peggy. ‘You go home, Peggy. You’ve already wasted half the morning on me, and I can easily find my way round from here.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’
‘I am.’ She smiled at her and then followed the doctor into his surgery, all too aware that Eunice was glaring daggers at her back.
20
Peggy had just pushed the pram into the scullery and turned on the copper boiler to heat the water when she heard voices upstairs. Frowning, she gathered up Daisy and climbed the concrete steps to discover Bertram Grantley-Adams sitting in her kitchen, sipping tea and chatting away to Cordelia as if he owned the place. Cordelia was looking rather flushed, and Peggy immediately wondered if it was from pleasure, fury or embarrassment.
‘Hello, Bertram,’ she said coolly as she divested Daisy of her outdoor clothes and let her totter about the floor. ‘To what do we owe this dubious pleasure?’
Bertram leaped to his feet. ‘I have come to apologise most sincerely,’ he said. ‘My behaviour was unforgivable towards dear Cordelia, and I hope that you will receive this small token as a sign of my heartfelt remorse.’
Peggy eyed the beautiful bouquet of early roses which mirrored the bunch already in a vase on the table. It seemed he was determined to ingratiate himself into the house again – but it would take more than a bunch of flowers to do that.
‘Very nice, I’m sure,’ she said stiffly, laying them carefully on the draining board. ‘But you’ve left it rather late to come round with apologies and flowers, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, I know.’ He hung his head. ‘But I was taken ill later that night when I so shamefully mistreated Cordelia, and have only just been released from hospital.’
‘I’m sorry to hear you were so incapacitated that you couldn’t even write a note, or make a telephone call to Cordelia to apologise,’ Peggy said briskly.
Bertram slumped into the chair, his face suddenly rather pale. ‘I’m afraid I was rather,’ he replied solemnly. ‘They put me into the isolation ward because I had a return of the malaria I contracted during my time in Africa. Ghastly thing does rear its ugly head now and again, and quite knocks me senseless.’
‘Oh, I see,’ said a chastened Peggy, who only now noticed he’d lost weight and looked very drawn and pale.
‘He’s apologised so beautifully,’ chirped Cordelia. ‘The poor man has really suffered quite an appalling attack, so don’t be cross with him, Peggy.’
Peggy realised she couldn’t really carry on defending Cordelia’s honour when she clearly didn’t want her to. ‘As long as there is no recurrence of your behaviour that night, then I’m prepared to welcome you back to Beach View,’ she said stiffly. ‘But if you ever put that silly society above Cordelia’s comfort again, you’ll have me to deal with.’
He looked contrite. ‘You have my assurance that it will not happen again, dear lady.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she replied, still not quite forgiving him. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have Daisy to attend to and a pile of washing to get through.’
April left the surgery comforted by the fact that although he possessed poor taste in women, if Eunice was anything to go by, Doctor Sayer proved to be understanding and not judgemental. He’d asked questions about the baby’s father and hadn’t even raised an eyebrow at her answers, then had examined her, prescribed iron tablets to combat her anaemia, and filled in all the forms so she would receive the extra milk and rations to supplement her diet.
He’d also made arrangements for her to see the midwife, and took time to discuss the options open to her once the baby was born. April was enormously relieved that these important things had finally been dealt with in a kindly manner, for her experience at the clinic in Portsmouth had not encouraged her to talk about anything in the light of the doctor’s brusque disapproval. After he’d listened and advised, they came to an agreement that an appointment should be made to meet a Miss Franklyn from the Church of England Adoption Society early the following week.
April walked slowly down to the seafront, going over the day’s events. Was she doing the right thing by having her baby adopted? After all, she reasoned silently, Shirley seemed to be managing, and if factories were offering nursery facilities to working mothers, then surely she too could cope?
But did she want to be saddled with a baby that would command all her attention and radically change her life – to be reminded every day of Daniel and the way he’d betrayed her? Was she brave enough to snub her nose at a world that would shun her, and give up any hope of marriage? Certainly, no decent man would want to take her on with a brown baby in tow.
Her head ached with it all and her previous high spirits had ebbed by the time she sat down on a promenade bench to watch the sea and the swooping, raucous gulls. If only Paula was still alive she could talk it over with her and try to make sense of it all – but there was no Paula, and although she suspected Peggy might be the perfect person to confide in, there was no guarantee that she’d forgive her deceit and continue to support her once she knew the truth. The colour bar that existed so clearly in America was also becoming apparent to her here, for although the black GIs were welcomed as part of the All
ied forces, and given freedom they’d never experienced before, it was quite another thing for a girl to sleep with one and then present the proof to a world that simply wasn’t ready for it.
April took a deep breath of the fresh air and lifted her face to the weak sun. She had to accept she was on her own, and there was little point in driving herself mad by going over everything in endless circles, for it solved nothing. She must learn to deal with this calmly and sensibly, take each day as it came, look after her health and be guided by the doctor and the woman from the adoption society who had experience in such things.
She sat with her eyes closed, the sun warm on her face, the sounds of the gulls and the waves slowly bringing her an inner calm which strengthened her resolve to face the future and make the best of what lay ahead.
Feeling a little better about things, she opened her eyes and really took in her surroundings. She marvelled that although there were barbed-wire and gun emplacements strung along the promenade and the lovely pier was no more than a ruined skeleton, Cliffehaven seafront hadn’t really changed. The white cliffs still towered over the beach to the east, the tumbling grassy hills to the west still huddled over that end of the promenade, and the sea still rattled over the shingle as it dragged it back and forth.
It was almost as if she could hear the fairground music that had once come from the carousel at the end of the pier, and the laughter and chatter of people enjoying their seaside holiday as the aroma of toffee apples and candyfloss vied with the delicious smell of vinegary fish and chips wrapped in newspaper.
The thought made her hungry, and noting that it was almost two o’clock, she made her way to the Lilac Tearooms which was opposite the hospital, and enjoyed a round of cheese on toast accompanied by home-made pickles, and a small pot of tea. Feeling refreshed and more optimistic, she tidied herself up in the small powder room and set off for the telephone exchange.
The enormous town hall overshadowed the square red-brick building behind it, and as April approached it from the narrow alleyway she shivered in the sudden drop in temperature. There was nothing to alleviate the ugliness of this utilitarian building, for the doors and window frames had been painted a sickly corporation green, a huge telegraph pole strung with numerous wires towered above it, and not a blade of grass or bright wild flower softened the austere concrete courtyard at the front.
She hitched the strap of her gas-mask box over her shoulder, adjusted her sling and then rapped on the door. Her heart was thudding in the most ridiculous manner as she waited, but it was important she got this job, and she just hoped to goodness that Miss Gardener proved to be as pleasant as Peggy seemed to think she was.
‘It’s no good you standing out here,’ said the plump woman who was panting her way towards her. ‘Miss Gardener won’t leave the switchboard until I take over.’
‘Oh. I didn’t realise,’ stammered April.
Curious watery blue eyes trawled April from head to toe as lips were pursed and a bulging handbag was tucked more firmly between sturdy arm and thrusting bosom.
‘I suppose you’re here about the job,’ she said. At April’s nod, she gave a sniff. ‘Then you’re wasting your time,’ she said bluntly. ‘You can’t possibly manage the exchange like that.’ Her gaze fell on the plaster cast. ‘Besides, my niece is coming later, and she has experience.’
This was something of a shock as the woman from the labour exchange had said nothing about a second candidate. ‘Well, I’m here now, so I’d like to give it a go all the same,’ April said firmly.
‘Not from around here, are you?’ The woman’s expression was hostile. ‘These sorts of jobs are best for locals to do, and my niece has lived here all her life.’
‘Your niece is not getting the job, Bertha, so you can stop bullying that girl and get in here to start your shift. You’re three minutes late as it is.’
They turned to see a tall, thin woman standing in the doorway. Everything about her was grey, from her rigidly permed hair, to her low-waisted loose dress, thick lisle stockings and sensible shoes. A pair of wire-framed glasses hung from a silver chain around her neck and her long, pale face was devoid of make-up.
‘But I was held up because she was here,’ Bertha blustered.
The steely gaze remained fixed upon her until she’d edged over the doorstep and disappeared into the gloomy interior. It was then turned on April.
‘Are you the girl they sent from the labour exchange?’
‘Yes, Miss Gardener.’
The gaze slipped momentarily to the sling before fixing back on April’s face. ‘You’d better come in then, although I doubt you’ll be suitable with that arm,’ she said, turning on her heel.
April’s old headmistress had been a dragon, but Miss Gardener was frightening enough to turn water to stone. April felt as if she’d regressed to five years old as she followed her into the building and closed the door behind her, wondering how on earth Peggy could ever have imagined that they would get on with one another. Miss Gardener had to be seventy if she was a day, and she clearly regarded everyone as children to be bossed about and kept in order.
‘In here.’ The command was imperious as the woman strode into a room off the narrow hall.
April suddenly saw the funny side of things and had to fight back a fit of giggles. She and Paula had spent many an hour waiting in the hall to be reprimanded by Miss Gosforth, their headmistress. As frightened as they’d been, they hadn’t managed to keep from giggling, and the longer they’d had to wait outside that door, the worse it got – and this interlude with Miss Gardener had brought it all back.
She stepped into the room to find it was actually quite cosy, and served as a sitting room as well as a basic kitchen. There was a small cooking range, two sagging couches, a table, two chairs and a stone sink with a wooden draining board and highly polished brass taps. On the rug in front of the range fire lay a vastly overweight bulldog which grunted and snorted and dribbled in its sleep.
‘That’s Winston,’ said Mrs Gardener. ‘He’s getting on a bit now, so sleeps most of the time. He doesn’t appreciate strangers patting him.’
April couldn’t think why anyone would want to touch the dog, for it was the most unattractive animal she’d ever seen.
Miss Gardener sat down on one of the hard kitchen chairs and indicated that April should do the same. ‘Tell me about yourself,’ she said.
It was very warm in the room and there was a foul, lingering odour that April couldn’t identify, but suspected it came from Winston. She loosened her coat and left it draped over her shoulders as she gave an edited resumé of her home life and education, and her short time with the WRNS.
‘A fine institution,’ the woman said with a solemn nod. ‘It was a shame you had to leave due to a family crisis. Will you be returning to the service once your arm is healed?’
‘My family commitments make that impossible,’ she said smoothly. ‘Which is why I’m looking for something in the civilian sector.’
‘And what makes you think that managing a telephone exchange will suit you?’
April sat forward on the chair, eager to emphasise her keenness to have the job. ‘I have had a little experience of working in the small telephone exchange at secretarial college. I realise that the post is only available for a few weeks,’ she said earnestly, ‘but I’m quick to pick things up and am willing to work hard.’
The steely gaze appraised her. ‘You’d need to be quite dextrous with only one good hand, and I do have another candidate coming tomorrow.’
‘That other lady’s niece?’
‘Not on my watch,’ Miss Gardener replied with a delicate shudder. ‘That girl is far too flighty at the best of times, and is positively unreliable as her short interlude here last year proved.’
‘I’d like to be given a chance to at least try and see if it’s possible to work here,’ April pressed.
Miss Gardener was about to reply when a soft hiss came from the other side of the room accompanied by a
grunt. Both were swiftly followed by the most appalling stench.
‘Don’t mind that,’ Miss Gardener said airily. ‘It’s only Winston relaxing, and if you prove capable of the task of running the exchange, you’ll soon get used to it.’ She crossed the room to pat the dog and feed it a bit of chocolate.
Winston farted again as he shifted to gobble a second sweet.
The smell was making April feel quite sick, and she doubted she’d ever get used to it. She tried holding her breath, but that only made it worse, and she didn’t have a handkerchief to put over her nose. She tried to breathe through her mouth, but the taste was even worse than the smell and she felt her stomach churn.
Miss Gardener made cooing noises to the revolting animal and rubbed his fat belly until he’d settled back to sleep. Satisfied that Winston was comfortable, she turned back to April. ‘Come on then. I’ll show you the exchange and you can watch Bertha for a while to get some idea of what the job entails. But let me warn you, Miss Wilton, I do not stand for gossiping on the line, over-familiarity with our customers, or any form of eavesdropping. There’s a war on, and in an emergency, the lines must be kept free.’
April was only too pleased to leave the room and she hurried after Miss Gardener into the hall. Unfortunately the smell seemed to have been absorbed in her clothes and skin and she could have sworn it followed her down the corridor and into the main room.
The exchange was larger than the one at the college and took up most of one wall, but it didn’t appear too daunting, for the set-up looked the same. The large main board consisted of neatly aligned, numbered slots into which Bertha was plugging coloured leads from a panel fixed to a desk in front of her. This panel also contained brass switches and dials, and when someone called the exchange a light went on over one of the numbered slots and was accompanied by a low buzz. Bertha wore a pair of headphones which were attached to a mouthpiece that sat neatly on the swell of her large bosom, the wires from it dangling to what April knew would be a series of plugs beneath the panel.
