by Kitty Neale
Sally’s mind went blank. What could she say? She shouldn’t have kept it, but when she packed to go to her aunt’s she’d found it in the back of her drawer. Remembering how Arthur had left it behind the night they made love, she had clutched it, holding it to her nose, trying to breathe in his scent. It was all she had left of him, and she couldn’t bear to part with it.
‘What’s the matter?’ Elsie asked, her voice concerned.
Sally just shook her head, unable to speak.
After moving the tray, Elsie sat on the bed. ‘Talk to me, Sally. I thought there would be a simple explanation, but if there is, I don’t know why you look so worried.’
It was no good, she couldn’t do it, couldn’t lie any more. Elsie had been so kind, taking her in, looking after her, when all the time she had deceived her. The baby kicked against her ribs, as if sensing her fear. ‘Oh Elsie, you’re going to hate me,’ she burst out.
‘Hate you? Why on earth would I hate you?’
Taking a deep breath, Sally said, ‘I lied when I said I didn’t know who my baby’s father is. I do know.’ She paused, lowering her eyes, cringing at what was going to happen next when Elsie heard the truth. ‘It’s Arthur’s baby,’ she whispered, too terrified to look up.
If she could have imagined Elsie’s response, she would have expected her to explode with anger. Instead, bending hastily forward, she pulled Sally into her arms.
‘Oh Sally, Sally,’ she cried. ‘You’re having my Arthur’s baby! I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you tell me? Why have you kept it to yourself?’
‘Because Jenny’s pregnant too. In fact, she must have had her baby by now.’
‘What! Jenny’s had a baby?’ Elsie’s brow creased. ‘I don’t understand. How do you know, Sally?’
‘Because she told me she was pregnant before they left for Australia. How could I ask Arthur not to go then? I knew the baby would need its father.’
Elsie drew back. ‘None of this makes sense. If what you say is true, Arthur would have told me.’
‘He was supposed to write and tell you as soon as they arrived in Australia.’
‘Well, I did have a letter from him then, the only one I’ve received, but there was no mention of Jenny being pregnant. And anyway, if it’s true, why didn’t he tell me before they left?’
‘He didn’t want to hurt you. He said you were upset enough about him going to Australia, without finding out that you wouldn’t see your first grandchild.’
‘Oh son, son,’ she groaned.
‘I’m sorry, Elsie.’
‘No, love, there’s no need to be sorry. I don’t blame you – after all, you only did what you thought was for the best. But if Jenny’s had a baby I just can’t understand why Arthur hasn’t told us. There’s something wrong out there, I just know there is, and I’m worried sick.’
After a few moments Elsie heaved a deep sigh, then pulling Sally briefly into her arms again and giving her a gentle pat on her back, she stood up. ‘I still can’t take this in, really. You’re actually having my grandchild.’
‘What do you think my mum will say, Elsie?’
‘I don’t know. But she’ll be here this evening so we’ll soon find out. Your gran’s still got bronchitis so she’s coming on her own. Bert’s going to pick her up.’
Sally closed her eyes, nervous at the thought of her mother’s reaction. ‘I’m dreading telling her.’
‘Leave it to me, love. I’ll tell her. Now come on, you look exhausted and I think you should have a little nap.’ With a small smile, she added, ‘Try to stop worrying, Sally, everything will be all right.’
As the door closed behind Elsie, Sally’s taut nerves snapped. All the pain of losing Arthur, all the guilt she felt at Harry’s death, rose to the surface. She tried to hold back the tears, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, but they oozed out of the corners, running down her cheeks and soaking the pillow. She didn’t see the glow forming in the corner of the room, didn’t see the translucent shape, and only when she felt a feathery touch on her cheek, did her tears stop.
‘Hello, how’s Sadie?’ Elsie asked when Ruth arrived that evening.
‘A bit better, but she was up half the night coughing. How’s Sally?’
‘She’s still not eating a lot, and she’s nervous about the inquest.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind having her? She could come home with me now. You look surprised, Elsie, and I don’t blame you, but I’ve been wracked with guilt since Harry’s death. I can’t bear thinking about what he might ’ave done to her if the police hadn’t been called. Christ, Elsie, if I ’adn’t made her leave home, she’d ’ave been safe. And why did I make her go? Because I was worried about the bleedin’ neighbours!’ She hung her head. ‘I’ve been a rotten mother, Elsie.’
‘Don’t be silly, of course you haven’t. Most single girls who get pregnant are shunted off somewhere. And anyway, I don’t mind Sally staying here. You’ve got enough to do at the moment looking after Sadie.’
‘Well, maybe she can come home when her gran’s a bit better.’
‘We’ll see. Now I’m going to make you a cup of tea. Don’t go upstairs to see Sally just yet. I’ve got something to tell you, Bert too,’ she added as he came into the room.
‘Oh yeah, come up on the pools, have we?’ he joked as he sat down.
‘It depends on how you look at it, Bert. Now I’ve had time to think about it, to me it’s better than winning the pools.’
Elsie smiled to herself as she hurried out of the room, not giving them a chance to ask any questions. It was true: once the news had sunk in she found she was filled with joy. A grandchild, she was going to be a gran! Sally would still be unmarried, they couldn’t change that, but at least Ruth would know who the father was now. She was hoping that after the initial shock Ruth, like her, would be pleased. It was funny really; with Arthur being the father it made her feel that in some way they were related. Oh, son, why don’t you write? she thought for the umpteenth time.
Carrying the tea tray through to the sitting room she passed the cups around, before quietly breaking the news.
‘What!’ Ruth exploded, choking on her tea.
‘I’ll bloody well kill him,’ Bert growled.
‘Calm down, love. You’d have a job to do that, considering he’s in Australia.’
‘But to run off and leave the girl when she’s pregnant,’ he said in disgust.
‘No, Bert, he didn’t know Sally was pregnant when he emigrated. Sally didn’t know herself until January. Anyway Jenny was already pregnant when they left.’
‘I don’t believe this!’ Bert roared, jumping to his feet.
Elsie took a deep breath. This was harder than she’d predicted. Bert was pacing the floor like a caged animal and Ruth was looking stunned, her cup halfway to her lips. ‘Sit down, Bert, and I’ll start at the beginning,’ she urged.
It took her some time to explain it all to them, but at least they were quiet, waiting for her to finish. She glanced at Ruth now and saw that tears were running down her cheeks. ‘Don’t cry, please don’t cry,’ she begged.
‘It’s all right. I think they’re tears of relief really. It was awful not knowing who the father was, and I just couldn’t believe it of Sally. Oh the poor kid, when I think of all the awful names that I called her.’
‘I’m so sorry. I too can’t believe it of my Arthur,’ Elsie told her.
Ruth gave her a watery smile. ‘I can’t take it in really, it seems unbelievable, your son being the father. If it wasn’t so tragic it would be funny. Here we are, best friends, both going to be grandmothers, and sharing the same grandchild.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Elsie said again.
‘Christ, it’s a rotten mess, ain’t it?’ Ruth said, pausing and biting her bottom lip. Then with a deep sigh, she added, ‘Well, we’ll just have to make the best of it. Sally will still be a single mum, but she’ll ’ave us to help her, won’t she?’
‘Of course she will,’ Elsi
e assured her. Then, turning to Bert, she asked, ‘Haven’t you got anything to say?’
He growled low in his throat, his hair standing on end where he had raked it through with his fingers. ‘What do you expect me to say? I’d still like to get my hands on my son. Making one mistake is bad enough, but two …’ He shook his head in disgust.
‘I just wish he’d write, Bert. We’ve only had one letter from him since he went to Australia. I just don’t understand it.’
‘I don’t either,’ Bert told her, turning his head as the door opened.
Sally stepped nervously into the room, clutching the front of her dressing-gown ineffectually over the mound of her stomach.
Elsie was surprised at the speed with which Ruth got to her feet. She appeared to fly across the room. ‘Oh Sally, I’m so sorry, darling,’ she cried, throwing her arms around her daughter.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Arthur climbed out of the truck, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Holding up a hand to shade his eyes from the sun he gazed at the flat landscape. Just dark red earth, as far as the eye could see, miles and miles of desert, and he marvelled at how alien it looked.
Taking a swig from his canteen of water, he turned to look at Joe, and seeing that he had the map spread out in front of him covering the steering wheel, asked, ‘Where are we heading for now?’
‘Well, I dunno about you, Arthur, but I don’t fancy going any further into the interior. How about we make our way down to Adelaide?’
Arthur shrugged his shoulders. They had been travelling for months, drifting as the mood took them, picking up the odd bit of casual work here and there. Canberra, Wagga Wagga, then skirting along the Murray River for a while until Joe got the whim to go further into the interior. But now it seemed it had lost its thrall and he was itching to get back to the coast. Arthur nodded. It didn’t matter to him where they headed for. ‘Yes, Adelaide sounds all right to me.’
‘Jump in then, and we can put a few miles in before dark,’ Joe urged, and pointing at the map, he added, ‘with any luck we may reach Broken Hill.’
As the truck bumped along, Arthur was deep in thought. He enjoyed travelling with Joe, but somehow the sense of adventure had worn off. He was tired of drifting from place to place, though Joe looked happy to carry on indefinitely. He never seemed short of money, spending it like water despite the small amount they had earned. Arthur tried to keep his expenditure down to a minimum, but was worried about his dwindling funds. Should he settle for a while in Adelaide, try to find work?
‘Are you all right, mate?’ Joe asked, breaking into his thoughts. ‘You seem a bit down in the mouth today.’
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit fed up with travelling, that’s all,’ Arthur assured him.
‘Have you got that girl of yours out of your system now?’
‘Who, Sally?’
Joe took his eyes off the road as his head snapped round. ‘Sally, who’s Sally? I thought you said her name was Jenny.’
‘Er, yeah, Jenny. Sally was a girl I knew back home in England.’
‘Oh, I see. Nice, was she?’
‘Yeah, gorgeous,’ Arthur told him as a picture of her rose in his mind. I wonder how she is, he thought, closing his eyes against a sudden wave of homesickness.
‘Are your parents dead, Arthur?’ Joe asked.
‘No, of course not. What makes you think that?’
‘Sorry, mate. It’s just that you never talk about them. Whenever I try to bring up the subject of England, you clam up.’
Arthur had to admit that Joe was right. He couldn’t bear to talk about home; in fact, he avoided thinking about it as much as possible.
‘Are you still homesick, Arthur?’
With a deep intake of breath, Arthur turned to look at his friend. ‘Yeah,’ he sighed.
The light was starting to fade as they reached Broken Hill, and finding the mining town had a boarding-house, they rented a room and sank onto their beds gratefully.
After a short rest, Arthur pulled a clean shirt out of his now battered case, deciding to have a bath. As he reached into the back pocket for his shaving gear, his hand touched the old letters from home, and for the first time, instead of ignoring them, he pulled them out.
‘I’m going for a beer,’ Joe said. ‘Coming, Arthur?’
‘No, mate, I’ll join you later,’ he told him, sitting back down on the side of the bed. He fingered the envelopes then flipped them over, looking at the addresses on the back. One was from his mum, the other from Ann. Taking a deep breath, he threw down Ann’s and ripped open the one from his mum. Quickly scanning the contents, his eyes widened. So they were going back to live in Wimbledon. Dad must be doing really well, he thought. He read on, smiling at all the gossip, his expression changing when he came to the last page. Raking his fingers through his hair he shook his head in disbelief. Sally was pregnant.
His face darkened with anger. Christ, he’d only been in Australia for about six months and she’d already found another bloke, and got herself in the club. Sinking back on the bed, he saw Sally’s face behind closed lids. He had tried so hard to put her out of his mind, still unable to believe her change of attitude. She had been like a chameleon, loving him one minute and then totally dismissing him the next. How could he have got it so wrong? Yet look what a mug he’d been with Jenny. She had certainly made a prize fool out of him, so why not Sally?
Drearily picking up the letter, intending to read it again, his eyes suddenly fixed on the date. Bloody hell, what an idiot, it had been in his case since February! Something clicked in his mind and his thoughts raced. He’d left England in November and by February his mother wrote that Sally was pregnant. Screwing shut his eyes, he tried to work out the dates. Was it possible?
Sitting up abruptly, he burst out aloud: ‘It’s mine, I’m sure it’s mine! Oh, Sally,’ he moaned. When would she be having it? Think, come on, think. He counted the months again. Bloody hell, it was due in August, she’d be having the baby in August – and it was already the first week in June. He had to get home and quick, he just had to. But how?
It didn’t take him long to realise that it was impossible. He just didn’t have enough money. The only thing he could do was to find work, well-paid work, and save every penny. All right, it would take a while, but what choice did he have?
‘Joe, I want to go back to Sydney.’
‘Christ, you must be joking. Why?’
Arthur rested an arm on the bar, thinking furiously whilst rubbing his forehead with his other hand. Should he tell Joe, explain the situation? But if he did, he knew that his friend would offer to drive him back and that didn’t seem fair. Finally he said, ‘After all the places we’ve seen, I’ve decided that I prefer Sydney. It’s time I settled down. I can’t drift around for ever and I need to make some real money.’
Joe scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘Well, if that’s how you feel, I won’t argue – but are you sure you don’t want to see Adelaide first?’
‘Yeah, I’m sure. Look, Joe, you don’t have to come with me. I can get a train from here to Sydney.’
‘I know that, mate, but I’ll miss you. We’ve had some good times, haven’t we?’ he said, taking a swig of beer.
Arthur smiled at his friend. Yes, they’d had some good times. It was strange really, neither of them had talked much about their past. He knew Joe was from England too and had been in Australia for about eighteen months. His parents lived in Sussex, somewhere near the South Downs, and he had a younger brother who was at University, but other than that he knew little else.
‘Fancy another beer, Arthur?’
‘Yeah, why not,’ he answered.
It was late by the time they staggered back to the boarding-house, but thankfully they could still get in, the landlady just smiling indulgently as the two men, holding each other up, fell inside the door. Arthur slumped onto his bed, too drunk to undress, and almost immediately passed out.
Joe sat looking at his mate. Although he�
�d had a good few pints, he wasn’t as drunk as Arthur, and was still puzzling over his reasons for going back to Sydney. It didn’t ring true somehow. Yes, he could accept that he was a bit tired of travelling, and that he needed to make some decent money, but what was the matter with Adelaide? It was a big place and sure to have plenty of job opportunities, so why go back to Sydney?
He stood up, intending to switch off the light, when he saw the letter on top of the chest of drawers. Walking stealthily across the room he picked it up, returning to sit on his bed. Was this the answer? Was there something in this letter?
When Arthur woke up the next morning he sat up slowly, groaning at the pounding in his head. It took him a few minutes to register that Joe wasn’t in the room, and another couple to realise that his friend’s belongings had gone too. Standing up, unsteady on his feet, he saw a note propped on the empty bed.
In capital letters Joe had written: BYE MATE. HAVE A SAFE JOURNEY HOME. Arthur glanced at his watch; it was nine-thirty. He couldn’t believe it. Why had Joe left like this, without even waiting for him to wake up?
Unable to take it in, he shook his head. Joe was fine last night and had wished him well on his journey back to Sydney and he hadn’t been upset, he was sure. They had both been pretty drunk, he knew that, and even a bit maudlin at times. Had something else happened that he couldn’t remember?’
He hurried downstairs, finding the landlady in the kitchen. ‘Excuse me, could you tell me what time my friend left this morning?’
‘Yeah, it was real early, just after six o’clock. He paid for the room, and said you’d be leaving later.’
‘Did he say anything else, or leave me a message?’
‘No, love. He just paid the bill and went.’
‘All right, thanks,’ Arthur said, returning to his room none the wiser. He had a quick wash, and as all his gear was still in the suitcase, he shoved in his dirty shirt and shut the lid. With a last glance around he made his way downstairs and after handing in the key, headed for the station.
