A Christmas Wish for the Shipyard Girls

by Nancy Revell

  When they reached the steps to the asylum, Pearl caught the sunlight glinting off the plaque at the side of the entrance. She took the last few drags on her cigarette, marched over and stubbed the fag end out on the polished brass. Bill heard her mumble something, but not what. Then again, he didn’t need to. He could take a good guess.

  After walking up the stone steps and through the main doors into the warmth, Pearl suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, squeezing Bill’s hand and yanking him back. She pulled him over to the side of the foyer.

  ‘Pretend yer talking to me,’ she hissed.

  Bill automatically looked round. He caught a glimpse of a smartly dressed blonde woman talking to another smartly dressed but younger woman.

  ‘And dinnit look!’ Pearl said, glaring at him, forcing him to keep his attention on her.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Bill asked.

  ‘It’s his bloody daughter, Miriam,’ Pearl said. She had moved slightly to the side so she could see past Bill. She was glad her fake husband was so tall and broad as he was doing a good job of blocking her from view.

  ‘Who’s she talking to?’ Bill asked. He was staring at Pearl, whose eyes narrowed as she scrutinised the two women who stood chatting by the reception desk.

  ‘One of the doctors … well, I think she’s a doctor here,’ Pearl mumbled.

  ‘Do yer think it could be Henrietta’s doctor?’ Bill asked, looking at Pearl’s anxious face, her eyes fixed on the women behind him.

  ‘Could be … It would make sense,’ Pearl said.

  ‘So, my great-aunty’s doing well by the looks of it,’ Miriam said. Relegating her mother to the role of a more distant relative still felt odd, despite the fact she had been doing so for years. ‘I’ve certainly noticed a huge difference in her.’ Miriam eyed Dr Eris. She was a handsome woman. Very self-assured. She could see why she’d been able to bag Helen’s doctor. ‘Although, of course, she’s still pretty delusional – still insisting I’m her daughter. Poor thing. I suppose that’s what sometimes happens when you’ve been a spinster your whole life. You fabricate a family.’

  ‘That could be the case,’ Dr Eris said. ‘But I wouldn’t go as far as to say she’s delusional. More the case that she’s told herself a lie for so long, she now believes it to be the truth.’

  ‘Isn’t that what delusional is?’ Miriam snapped. She much preferred her mother’s old doctor. He would always agree with whatever she said.

  ‘I’d like to see if she maintains this level of lucidity through to the New Year,’ Dr Eris continued. ‘If she does, she might even be well enough for an afternoon outside the asylum. Supervised, of course.’

  Miriam had to stop herself laughing out loud. That was never going to happen.

  ‘Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, my dear. You’ve been my great-aunty’s doctor for a relatively short time. Remember, I’ve been visiting her here for many, many years.’

  ‘And that’s the point.’ Dr Eris wasn’t going to back down. ‘I believe Miss Girling has become institutionalised. That’s why I think the next step will be to introduce her to the outside world. Gradually, of course.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Miriam said. She’d have to chat with her father. It looked like he’d have to get her dear mama another doctor.

  ‘Let’s have a chat when you’re in next,’ Dr Eris said. ‘If you ring beforehand, we can have a proper talk privately in my consultation room.’

  ‘Damn!’

  Pearl suddenly bobbed back so that she was standing squarely in front of Bill. Seeing Miriam walking in their direction, she whispered, ‘Pretend I’m upset,’ before flinging herself at Bill and burying her head in his chest.

  Bill put his arms around Pearl and held her close. ‘There, there, it’ll be all right,’ he said, doing as Pearl had asked while he watched Miriam carry on walking past them and out of the front entrance.

  He continued to hold Pearl. He was in heaven.

  ‘She gone?’ Pearl’s muffled voice rose up from his chest.

  Bill waited a beat, revelling in the feel of having the woman he was besotted with for one more moment.

  ‘Yes, she’s gone,’ he said, reluctantly relinquishing his hold.

  ‘Hi, Henrietta.’

  Pearl hurried into the room. She was feeling uneasy after nearly bumping into Miriam. She wanted this done with as soon as possible. No hanging around. With any luck she could leave this forlorn place today and never come back.

  ‘Ahh, Pearl, how lovely to see you.’ Henrietta was sitting at a little round table she’d had put in her room. ‘My Little Match Girl, forever faithful.’ She gestured for Pearl to sit down on the spare chair opposite her.

  Not for much longer, Pearl couldn’t help thinking.

  ‘Do you want a glass of water?’ Henrietta had a jug on the table, next to a pile of books.

  ‘Aye, go on,’ Pearl said. ‘My mouth does feel a bit dry.’

  Henrietta got up and fetched two clean tumblers from a little cupboard above her sink.

  ‘Henrietta, I’ve got something I want to ask yer,’ Pearl said as Henrietta carefully poured out two glasses.

  ‘Oh dearie me, that sounds rather ominous,’ Henrietta said, sitting down. ‘Let me guess …’ She put a finger to her temple, as though thinking. ‘It’s to do with the past? I know how much you like to talk about the past.’

  Pearl saw something in Henrietta’s eye that she hadn’t seen before. It was as though she knew. Knew everything.

  ‘Aye, it is, Henrietta,’ Pearl said. ‘It is about the past.’

  She took a deep breath.

  ‘I want to knar the truth about something. If I ask yer a question, will yer promise to tell me the truth?’

  Henrietta let out a tinkle of laughter.

  ‘The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’

  Pearl forced a smile.

  ‘Exactly.’

  Bill was sitting outside on the bench, looking out over the snow-covered lawn. There were only the faintest indentations from where a bird had landed, otherwise the blanket of white was unspoilt. He had grown to like this place. It was not the dark, frightening madhouse people believed it to be. Seeing it through the seasons, first summer, then autumn, and now winter, he thought nothing could be further from the truth. It was quite beautiful. And very tranquil. And as he sat and waited for Pearl, enjoying the peace, his mind wandered to the future – to a future that he hoped could be.

  ‘Bill!’

  He looked round and saw Pearl coming out of the entrance, scrabbling around in her bag for her cigarettes.

  She glanced over at the plaque for one last time. No wonder. No bloody wonder.

  Bill hurried over.

  ‘So? How did it go?’ he asked, hoping she’d tell him she’d not been successful and that they’d have to come back.

  ‘It went well,’ she said, grabbing his hand automatically. ‘Very well.’

  Bill’s heart sank as they crunched up the gravelled pathway, still partially covered in snow.

  ‘Sounds like we need to celebrate, then, with a drink and a nice bit of nosh?’ he suggested. Might as well. If Pearl had got what she’d wanted, there’d be no more days out as a pretend married couple.

  But then again …

  Bill’s thoughts moved again to the future he had just been imagining.

  And with that thought, his spirits lifted and he glanced at Pearl and smiled.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Monday 20 December

  Helen looked up from her ledger to see Marie-Anne bossing around one of the new girls, telling her where she wanted a length of rather tatty tinsel to go. She’d found a box of old Christmas decorations in one of the cupboards and had asked permission to put them up. How could Helen refuse? Scrooge would have had nothing on her if she’d said no.

  She looked over at Bel, who was typing away. Or rather bashing away. Her face looked as grim as the weather outside. Sleet and rain were presently lashing down against the windo
w.

  Just as Helen was bending down to get her cigarettes out of her handbag, the phone rang.

  ‘Miss Crawford speaking,’ she said distractedly.

  ‘Helen! It’s John here. So glad to have caught you!’

  Helen’s heart missed a beat. Stop it! She wished her body would wise up.

  ‘John! Lovely to hear you. How’s things?’

  ‘Good. Good. You?’

  ‘Yes, all good. The usual frenzy before Christmas.’

  There was an awkward silence.

  ‘I’m glad I’ve managed to catch you. We seem to keep missing each other,’ Dr Parker said. He would have liked to add that she never rang him back these days, but didn’t.

  Helen was thinking just the same thing. ‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘You’re ringing about the christening.’

  ‘I am,’ John said. ‘I just wondered if you could pass on the message to Polly – let her know that I’m definitely coming, barring any kind of emergency.’

  ‘And Claire?’ Helen couldn’t help crossing her fingers that Dr Eris couldn’t make it. She scolded herself again. It shouldn’t matter. They were just friends.

  ‘Yes, yes, Claire wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

  I bet you she wouldn’t.

  ‘She’s really looking forward to meeting everyone.’

  ‘Dear me, John, you’ll be telling us we’ll all need to buy ourselves hats soon!’ The words were out before Helen could rein them back in.

  Dr Parker forced out an unconvincing laugh. ‘I think it’s a bit early for that.’

  It was on the tip of Dr Parker’s tongue to ask if Helen would be bringing Matthew, but he didn’t trust himself with how it might come out.

  ‘So, you keeping all right?’ he asked instead.

  ‘Yes, yes, nothing much new to report,’ she said.

  ‘I saw your mother the other night,’ he said. ‘She seemed in good form.’

  ‘What? In the Grand?’ Helen let out a burst of hollow laughter. ‘Or need I ask. Where else would my dear mama be.’ She paused. ‘What were you doing at the Grand?’

  ‘Oh, I was there with Claire …’ He hesitated. ‘And my mother and father.’

  ‘Really?’ Helen couldn’t hide her incredulity. ‘My goodness, John, I think I am going to be shopping for a hat sometime soon. Meeting the parents?’

  Dr Parker laughed a little nervously. ‘More of an early Christmas get-together.’ Why was he making less of it? ‘You know, what with working over Christmas.’

  ‘I’m sure that was the reason,’ Helen said. She surprised herself at how jokey and light-hearted she sounded about it all when nothing could be further from the truth.

  ‘Dr Parker!’

  Helen heard someone shouting for him in the background.

  ‘Always in demand,’ she laughed. ‘Get yourself off. I’ll tell Polly you’re coming – and Claire, too, of course.’

  ‘Yes, thanks, Helen. See you there.’

  After she’d hung up, Helen sparked up a cigarette. God, Claire was well and truly getting her claws in. Not that John seemed to mind. Not one bit.

  If Polly hadn’t asked her to be a godmother, she might have made an excuse and cried off.

  She puffed on her cigarette and thought.

  And thought.

  Crushing the butt into the ashtray, she picked up the phone.

  ‘Good afternoon, Matthew Royce speaking!’

  ‘Matthew … Helen here.’

  ‘Helen! You’ve just cheered up my day and as always sent my pulse racing!’

  Helen sighed. Matthew loved playing the thwarted lover. Everything to him was a game.

  ‘How’s your schedule looking on Friday? Christmas Eve?’ Helen asked.

  Matthew didn’t miss a beat.

  ‘As of now it is clear. I am free for your ladyship.’

  ‘Well,’ Helen said stonily, ‘I need an escort for a christening.’

  ‘Little Artie’s?’ Over the past few months Matthew had slowly got to know Helen and the people in her life.

  ‘That’s the one,’ Helen said, rotating her cigarette packet.

  ‘I’d be more than happy to oblige,’ Matthew said.

  ‘Good,’ Helen said. ‘St Ignatius Church. No later than two.’

  ‘At your service, my dear.’

  Helen could hear in his voice that he was smiling and she hung up.

  The klaxon had just signalled the lunch break.

  ‘Can I have a word?’

  Helen looked up to see Bel standing in the doorway.

  ‘Of course, come in.’

  ‘I just wanted to check it was all right if I got off an hour early on Thursday – it’s Lucille’s nativity.’

  ‘Of course, the nativity. Did you manage to get her angel costume sorted?’ Helen smiled. Bel had told her about Lucille’s growing excitement about Christmas, and about being in the school’s nativity.

  ‘It’s nearly there – thanks to an old sheet from Agnes, and Kate donating scraps from a couple of white dresses she’s been making … I was also going to ask if I could take the morning off on Christmas Eve? I don’t want you to feel I’m taking advantage.’

  Helen waved her worries away. ‘Of course not, don’t be daft. Are you needed to get everything ready for the christening?’

  ‘No, no,’ Bel said. ‘Agnes is happily working herself into a frenzy on that front.’

  Helen chuckled. ‘I guess she’s over the moon about having another grandchild.’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she could have slapped herself. ‘God, I’m sorry, that was so insensitive of me, Bel. I wasn’t thinking.’

  This time it was Bel who waved Helen’s concerns away. ‘Don’t worry. Besides it’s true. I just wish I could oblige.’

  Helen looked at Bel and saw her despair.

  ‘I really don’t know what to say, Bel. I don’t want to say don’t worry, it’ll happen, because I think it’s insulting. Who am I to make such assumptions? I have no idea if it’ll happen or not.’ She stopped. ‘Oh dear, I don’t think that’s what you want to hear either.’

  Bel smiled sadly. ‘There is no right thing to say. I just have to toughen up and accept that there’s nothing I can do about it – be thankful for what I’ve got and not mope about what I don’t have.’

  Helen thought that was easier said than done, but didn’t say so.

  ‘So, if Agnes is in command of the christening …?’ Helen asked.

  ‘Santa Claus,’ Bel declared, ‘is coming to town. And if I don’t take Lucille, well, quite simply, there’ll be another war on.’

  Helen laughed.

  ‘Don’t you sometimes wish to be that age again – when everything was so simple? No worries.’ She wanted to add ‘no heartache’, but didn’t.

  Bel manufactured a smile, not wanting to say that despite all her present difficulties she would never want to be that age again. When she had been Lucille’s age her life had been neither simple nor without worries.

  ‘Yeah!’ Dorothy shouted over on seeing Polly bustle into the canteen. Bel was behind her.

  ‘Where’s Artie?’ Angie demanded when she was within shouting distance.

  ‘He’s with his nana,’ Polly said, reaching their table and sitting down. Bel went to get them a cup of tea.

  ‘You all sorted for the christening?’ Gloria asked. She thought about how Hope’s christening had been a rushed affair as she had tried her hardest to arrange it without Vinnie knowing.

  ‘Yes,’ Polly said, ‘just about. Not that I’ve had that much to do as Ma has taken charge. Honestly, she missed her vocation as a drill sergeant.’

  Everyone chuckled. There was no arguing with Agnes when she had her mind set on something.

  ‘And there’s no way Tommy can get leave?’ Martha asked.

  ‘Not a cat in hell’s chance,’ Polly said. ‘But I didn’t expect for one minute he’d be able to.’ She looked up at Bel walking over with two cups of tea.

  ‘Thanks to my very p
ersuasive sister-in-law here,’ she smiled at Bel as she took her tea and made room for her, ‘Mr Clement is going to take a couple of photographs so that I can send them to Tommy.’

  ‘So, what brings you in today?’ Gloria asked. ‘I know where I’d be on a day like this.’

  ‘Sorting out my start date,’ Polly said, taking a sip of her tea.

  ‘Yeah!’ Dorothy shoved Angie. ‘See, I told you she’d come back.’

  Polly looked at Angie and thought she didn’t seem quite herself.

  ‘So, when are you coming back?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘In the New Year. Once I’ve got Artie onto the bottle.’ Polly groaned. ‘Which I’m finding easier said than done.’

  ‘And is Tommy all right about you coming back to work?’ Rosie asked, finishing off her shepherd’s pie.

  ‘Not really,’ Polly said.

  ‘And yer ma?’ Gloria asked.

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Looks like you’ve got resistance?’ Hannah said.

  ‘Most definitely,’ Polly said, ‘but they can’t stop me.’

  ‘Just off to the lav,’ Angie said, getting up and hurrying off.

  Polly waited until she was out of earshot.

  ‘Is Angie all right?’

  She looked at Dorothy and then at the rest of the women.

  ‘Not really,’ Dorothy said. She exhaled theatrically. ‘To cut a long and very dramatic story short, as we all suspected, Ange is in love with Quentin. And we’re also sure Quentin is in love with Angie.’

  ‘Well, we’re not totally sure,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Yeah, and we don’t want Angie to get hurt,’ Martha chipped in.

  ‘Regardless,’ Dorothy continued, ‘I’ve told Mrs Kwiatkowski, who’s known Quentin for ages, to find out – and to make sure Quentin’s not going to lead our Ange up the garden path, use her and then fling her aside.’

  ‘Not that Angie would let Quentin use her,’ Gloria butted in.

  ‘Precisely,’ Dorothy said. ‘And that’s where it all gets a bit complicated.’

  She gave Polly a quick résumé of what had happened last Monday.

  Looking up, she saw Angie coming back into the canteen. God, she’d never known anyone get themselves to the loo and back as fast.