Shelter From the Storm

by Ellie Dean

  ‘There’s no need to get fulsome, Peggy,’ she replied with the ghost of a smile. ‘April is a foolish girl who should have known better. But I do sympathise with her plight – people can be far too judgemental, and don’t always know the true facts before they rush in with their condemnations and spread vile gossip.’

  Peggy saw a fleeting dart of pain in those grey eyes and wondered if Vera and Clarice had suffered from gossip and innuendo, and came to the conclusion that they probably had. ‘It’s always the same, war or not,’ she sighed. ‘I do wish more people would look at the mess the world is in and learn to embrace a gentler, more understanding view on things.’

  ‘That’s unlikely,’ Vera replied. ‘There will always be gossips and nosy parkers to stir up trouble.’ She set aside the cup and saucer and became brisk. ‘To that end, I have come up with a plan.’

  ‘What sort of plan?’

  ‘It’s clear that April and Bertha must be kept apart, and although it will mean changing shifts round, which April might find a bit inconvenient, it’s the only way forward.’ She folded her hands primly in her lap. ‘Would April be prepared to do the very early morning shift from five until one-thirty? Then I could take over until Bertha comes in at three-thirty.’

  ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if it meant keeping her job,’ said Peggy. ‘But won’t that make things awfully difficult for you?’

  ‘Not at all. I don’t sleep well at the best of times, and there are rarely any calls during the night unless there’s a flap on up at Cliffe aerodrome.’

  Peggy smiled. ‘Then I’ll have a word with April tonight.’

  Vera nodded and slipped on her overcoat. ‘Get her to telephone me this evening after eight o’clock, and we’ll organise things for tomorrow. Better to start straight away, I think.’ She gathered up her handbag and gas-mask box. ‘Now I must be away. Clarice and I are going to the matinee at the cinema. They’re showing Casablanca.’

  Peggy watched her stride away and then lit a cigarette to go with her cooling tea. Vera had been very understanding considering her age and reputation for being a stickler for correct behaviour – and if it wasn’t for that beastly busybody Bertha, they would never have had to have that awkward conversation. Now poor little April, who already had enough on her plate, must face the fact that her secret was out and for the next two weeks she’d be working the most unsociable of hours.

  Peggy mulled everything over, stubbed out her cigarette and wrapped the untouched slice of cake in a paper napkin to take home. She returned her cup and saucer to the tea table and quickly left the hall before she got roped into doing the washing-up.

  Shirley was working at the factory until late today, so April strolled up to the station to see Stan once her shift was over. A cup of tea and a biscuit would go down well after being shut in the exchange with smelly old Winston all morning, and she needed to stretch her legs and breathe fresh air.

  Afternoon tea with Stan had become a bit of a ritual, and she was looking forward to quietly talking with him and helping him care for his vegetables and flowers. It was so peaceful up there on the allotment, and it was very easy to imagine that they weren’t at war when the sun shone, the birds sang, and the scent of the roses drifted in the air.

  ‘Wotcha, April.’ Ruby stuck the garden fork into the ground, eased her back and brushed her hand across her sweaty face, leaving a smear of dirt.

  April grinned back. ‘Hello, Ruby. Looks like you’ve been busy.’

  She dragged the knotted scarf from her head and used it to wipe her hot face. ‘I’ve weeded and hoed until I’m fair worn out,’ she said, stuffing the scarf in her overall pocket and shaking out her dark hair. ‘Now I gotta get washed and be off to work. Mum and me are on the late shift now until next weekend.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame. I was hoping we could have a cuppa together.’

  Ruby’s smile was rueful. ‘Yeah, I’m sorry too, but I got wages to earn so I can save up for me bottom drawer.’

  ‘Have you heard from Mike?’

  Ruby nodded as she washed her hands under the standpipe. ‘He’s bored rotten, poor ducks. There ain’t nothing up there but sea birds, rocks and fish. But the other blokes are a good bunch by the sound of it, the locals are friendly, and the whisky never seems to run out, so I don’t really know why he’s moaning.’

  She dried her hands on her overalls and lit a fag. ‘If you’re wondering where Stan’s got to, he’s due back any minute from the doctor’s.’

  ‘Why? What’s the matter with him?’ April asked in alarm.

  Ruby shrugged. ‘Dunno, do I? But I suspect it’s ’is indigestion. I keep telling Mum to lay off the rich food and fry-ups, but she won’t listen.’

  ‘Perhaps if the doctor told her what it was doing to him, she might,’ said April.

  ‘You know Mum,’ Ruby said with a shrug. ‘Well, I’ll be off, see you tomorrow.’

  April returned her cheery wave and set about making a fresh pot of tea for Stan when he got back. She hunted out the tin of biscuits, and while she waited for the kettle to boil, she sat in the deckchair and enjoyed the calm and warmth of this early June day.

  His booming voice broke the silence as he greeted his fellow allotment holders, and before April could stir the tea in the pot he’d made his way through the vegetable patches to his shed. ‘Hello, dear,’ he said with a jolly smile. ‘I see you’ve got the kettle on. That’s a good girl.’

  ‘Ruby had to get to work,’ she said as she let the tea stew for a while, ‘so you’ll just have to put up with me for a bit.’

  ‘That’s no hardship.’ He sank into the other deckchair and took off his cap. ‘In fact, it’s a pleasure to have you to myself for a change.’

  April poured the tea and added just a few grains of sugar for Stan, mindful of his ever-expanding girth. ‘Ruby said you went to the doctor’s,’ she said, sitting beside him.

  ‘The old indigestion was playing up, so I thought it was time to sort it out once and for all,’ he replied airily. He sipped the tea and grimaced. ‘I suppose I’m going to have to get used to no sugar in my tea from now on,’ he muttered dolefully. ‘In fact the doc says I’ve got to cut down on all the things I like if I want to stay alive. Proper put the wind up me, it did.’

  ‘Then you must do as he says,’ she urged him. ‘You and Ethel are about to start a new life together, and think how awful it would be for her if anything happened to you.’

  He gave a deep sigh. ‘Yes, I know, you don’t have to read me the riot act – the doc’s already done that.’ His brown eyes regarded her solemnly. ‘It’s Ethel I’m worried about, though. She loves to cook, and enjoys putting on a spread for me.’

  ‘Ethel would rather have you by her side for years to come, and as long as you explain clearly what the doctor has said, I’m certain she’ll do all she can to help you.’

  Stan nodded, sipped his tea and then looked back at her. ‘And what about you, April? Who’s going to look after you once that baby’s born?’

  April felt the heat suffuse her face and she couldn’t look at him. ‘How did you know?’ she whispered.

  ‘I’ve got eyes in my head, April love, and have just been waiting for you to say something.’ He put his large hand over her fingers. ‘I know a troubled girl when I see one, April, and it seems to me that you need to lighten that burden.’

  His hand was comforting, but still she couldn’t look at him. She wanted desperately to confide in him, but she felt so ashamed of her lies and subterfuge that she didn’t know where to begin. ‘Everyone at Beach View knows,’ she admitted softly, ‘so I have had someone to talk to.’

  ‘That’s good. I’ve always been a great believer in sharing troubles.’

  April swallowed hard and finally found the courage to meet his gaze. ‘Stan, there’s something I have to tell you. I don’t know if it’s the right time to do it, or whether it will change things between us – but I can’t keep it to myself any longer.’

  ‘There’s
no fiancé, is there?’ he said gently.

  She shook her head. ‘No. But that’s not all,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve lied to you, Stan, and for that I am truly, truly sorry.’

  He frowned and looked back at her, his hand still tightly clasping hers. ‘Then it’s best we clear the air, don’t you think?’

  She saw no condemnation in his eyes, merely kindliness, and she knew then that she could trust him. ‘When I came to Cliffehaven, it was because my mother’s brother had written to her and suggested we stay with Peggy over his wedding celebrations.’

  Stan’s eyes widened and he leaned back in the chair and stared at her for a moment. Then he chuckled and finally burst out laughing.

  ‘So you’re not cross?’ she stammered.

  He mopped his eyes with a large handkerchief. ‘Cross? How could I be when you’ve made me the happiest man alive?’ He struggled out of the chair and pulled her into his arms. ‘Oh, April. Why didn’t you tell me straight off? You must have known I would never turn my back on you.’

  ‘I couldn’t,’ she admitted, emerging from his bear hug close to tears. ‘I didn’t know if you’d changed or what your circumstances were – and how you’d react to the fact that I’m unmarried and pregnant.’

  ‘Oh, you poor child,’ he groaned. ‘What a terrible burden you’ve been carrying.’ He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. ‘But it’s all right now,’ he murmured. ‘Everything will be all right now you’ve got your Uncle Stan to look after you.’

  April clung to him as her tears soaked through his uniform jacket and shirt. She felt as if she’d come home at last – that she’d found someone who truly cared for her, and who would be an intrinsic part of her life from now on.

  They reluctantly drew apart, feeling a bit foolish about the emotional reunion which had no doubt been witnessed by everyone on the allotment. Stan chucked her under the chin and grinned broadly. ‘Let’s drink our tea and get to know one another properly. If I’m to be that baby’s great-uncle, then I have a lot of catching up to do.’

  ‘Oh, Stan,’ she said on a sigh. ‘I won’t be keeping the baby.’

  ‘Whyever not? That baby’s a part of my family, and although it might cause a bit of a stir with Ethel, it belongs with us – just as you do. No baby will be given away, not while I have breath in my body.’

  April burst into tears again, sank into the deckchair and covered her face with her hands. ‘It’s not that simple,’ she sobbed.

  He ran his hand over her head and gently drew her towards him. ‘Then you’d better tell me why that is,’ he said softly.

  ‘My baby . . . my baby will be brown,’ she said in a rush as her tears flowed.

  He was silent for a long moment and she didn’t dare look at him for fear of seeing disgust on his face.

  Stan cleared his throat and tightened his grip on her shoulder. ‘Well, that could put the cat amongst the pigeons, certainly,’ he breathed. ‘But that baby’s still part of our family, and come hell or high water, I’m determined you should keep it.’

  April stared at him in wonder and rising hope. ‘But what about the scandal it will cause? And then there’s Ethel to consider. She’d have to agree to such a thing.’

  Stan nodded thoughtfully. ‘Good point – about Ethel, I mean – I couldn’t care less about the scandal.’

  ‘But she might, Stan – and you have to think how keeping the baby will affect all of us. This is a small town, and girls like me are routinely shunned and abused – look at how Shirley’s been treated. Think how very much worse it will be when people realise my baby’s brown.’

  ‘Aye, I hadn’t thought of that.’ Stan fell silent, his gaze fixed on a distant point at the end of the allotment.

  April’s soaring hopes slowly dwindled as common sense took over. It would have been wonderful to keep her baby, to nurture and raise it in a loving home with her Uncle Stan’s support – but he or she would forever bear the stigma of illegitimacy, and his colour would set him apart.

  She took a shuddering breath and reached for Stan’s hand. ‘I would love to keep my baby,’ she said softly, ‘but it would be selfish to do such a thing. My baby deserves to have two loving parents who are experienced in this world where colour and differences matter so much, and who can give him a solid identity without the stresses of being raised in a white family.’

  Stan sniffed back his tears but remained silent.

  She squeezed his fingers. ‘It’s not an easy decision, Stan – in fact it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do – but adoption is the right way forward.’

  His eyes were red as he turned to look at her. ‘You might feel very differently when it’s born,’ he managed gruffly.

  April nodded. ‘But I have to think what’s best for him. It’s the only way.’

  He looked down at their clasped hands and then regarded her tearfully. ‘You’ll have to be very brave,’ he rasped.

  She took a shuddering breath. ‘I know, but as long as I have you to turn to, we can get through it together.’

  He patted her cheek. ‘You have my promise on that, April.’

  She kissed his cheek and they sat there in silence for a long moment, absorbing all that had happened and coming to terms with it. She turned to him eventually. ‘What will you tell Ethel?’

  He sighed deeply and slumped back into the chair. ‘I will tell her that you’re my niece and that you’re pregnant. As you seem so determined to have the baby adopted, there’s no reason to go into any further detail.’

  April regarded him steadily, wondering if his reluctance to tell Ethel everything had something to do with her view on illegitimate brown babies. Suspecting this might be the case, she didn’t probe. The poor man had had enough for one day. ‘Then that’s what we’ll do,’ she said softly.

  The relief in his expression proved she’d been right, and as he gave her a watery smile and squeezed her fingers, her heart went out to him. He was a lovely, gentle man, and she felt blessed that she’d found him again.

  The telephone rang just as Peggy was mashing the potatoes to go over the shepherd’s pie. Leaving the task to Rita, she hurried into the hall and got to the receiver seconds before Ron.

  ‘It’s me, April. I’m ringing from the station.’

  Peggy frowned. ‘What are you doing there?’

  ‘Uncle Stan and I have had a long talk about everything and he’s asked me to stay on and share his supper as Ethel’s on late shift. I should be home by nine, but don’t worry if I’m not – we have a lot to catch up on,’ she continued breathlessly.

  Peggy’s heart raced and she exchanged glances with Ron as she gripped the receiver. ‘Did you tell him everything?’

  April was clearly aware that Bertha was probably listening in. ‘Yes,’ she replied shortly.

  ‘And Ethel’s at work, you say?’

  April was quick on the uptake. ‘Yes, and that’s all taken care of, Peggy. I’ll explain when I get home.’

  Peggy was hugely relieved to hear that, but she had other things on her mind. ‘There’s something I must tell you,’ she said urgently. ‘It’s nothing bad, I promise, but it is important. Could you make sure you’re not too late?’

  There was silence at the other end, but Peggy could have sworn she could hear a second person breathing down the line. ‘Just be home by nine,’ she said firmly. ‘That’s all I can tell you at the moment.’ She was about to disconnect the call when she changed her mind. ‘And I’m delighted everything has worked out with Stan. See you later.’

  She replaced the receiver and turned to Ron. Their eyes met and in that silent, tense moment they shared one thought. Was Stan capable of keeping such an important secret from Ethel?

  25

  April had tried to thank Vera for being so kind, but the older woman had merely told her she’d been a silly girl to get into such a dilemma, and that no more should be said about it. The early mornings hadn’t proved to be too onerous, and as her time at the exchange was drawing to
an end, April was simply grateful to still have a job. As for Bertha, their paths no longer crossed, and any suspicions she might have harboured had been nipped in the bud by Vera’s clever planning.

  The two weeks had flown since that emotional meeting with Stan, and although Ethel had made it patently clear that she didn’t approve of April’s subterfuge or her pregnancy, it seemed she was more concerned with Stan’s health. Great changes had been wrought at mealtimes since Ethel had put him on a strict diet, and Stan tried to put a cheerful face on things, but April could tell that he was utterly miserable, and suspected he sneaked a biscuit or two while on his allotment.

  Lucinda Downes had returned to Cliffehaven so it was April’s final day at the exchange. It was one of mixed emotions for she would miss coming here each day; miss having something important to do – and even miss Vera Gardener. And yet her plaster cast was due to be taken off today and there was Stan’s wedding to look forward to tomorrow.

  A caller came on the line, and as she connected him, Vera came into the room carrying a tea tray. ‘I thought you should have something before you go to the hospital,’ she said. ‘The tea they have in there is like dishwater.’

  April thanked her and they sipped the tea in silence until April had to disconnect a call and then put another through. She smiled at Vera as her last few minutes at the exchange ticked away. ‘It will feel strange not coming in any more. I won’t know what to do with myself all day.’

  ‘I expect Peggy will find something to keep you occupied,’ said Vera. ‘But it’ll be so much easier for you once that plaster is off.’ Her smile was unusually warm. ‘It’s good timing too, what with your Uncle Stan’s wedding tomorrow.’

  April smiled back at her. She wasn’t such a bad old stick once you got to know her. ‘It seems Stan’s told everyone that I’m his niece.’