Wedding Bells on the Home Front

by Annie Clarke

  He did so without waiting for permission and eased her onwards, and it was what she wanted – to be led – because she had no idea what she should be thinking or doing. She said, ‘I heard Mrs Pritchard at the wedding tea. She were saying to her friends that there was no smoke without fire, that I had changed my mind from Stan to Bob, so who knew what I was doing with who now. She said maybe it was Norris, so she must have seen me meeting him for me booze. I have to thank you for helping our Sid, for I waited, and watched through the window of the cloakroom, just for a moment. I knew, with two of you, it would be all right.’

  Ralph pushed her on, but she wanted to stop, for his leg must hurt.

  ‘Don’t fret about my leg. It’s remarkably fine. The walking stick is “just in case”. Mrs Pritchard is a fool. You were very young when you were with Stan. Then you met someone else. It was bound to happen.’ He wondered where he was getting all this from.

  Did it matter? It was just there, in his head, then his mouth, and actually it seemed to him to make sense.

  Beth remembered the cornfield where she lay with Bob and they did what they did, and it had been what she wanted. ‘It weren’t right, though, what we did behind Stan’s back.’

  She felt Ralph pull her to a halt, her ankle twisting on a large embedded stone, his fingers digging into her arm.

  ‘Oh Lord, Beth Smith, for you are Smith, not Jones. Do you think you are such a special person that a mistake is unforgivable? Don’t keep reliving it, rethinking it. If you do, it digs in. You’ve had a boyfriend, knew he wasn’t for you, but neither was the new one, the husband. It’s his loss. There’s fear, grief and anger: at him, at yourself, at the whole damned world. You think you cannot control anything. But you can. Feel it, face the misery, but only for a moment, then take a step forward, shedding it as you go.’

  They were in the lee of another hawthorn hedge that provided a bit of a barrier from the wind, but only a bit. Ralph continued. ‘I don’t know where I’m getting this, but I reckon it makes sense. Yes, shed it.’ He pointed back to where the smoke from the fire was rising. ‘I rather wonder … Look, it rises, it disappears. It’s gone. Move on. Thinking is overrated. Living isn’t, so live.’

  She just stared at him. ‘You know?’

  He grinned. ‘Remember me, the horrid lad who smashed a precious papier-mâché football, who made Fran’s life a misery. Well, that was me. My mother died, I was frightened, I missed her, got angry instead, sank in the memory of the loss. I didn’t want to see that Sophia and my father loved me. Even when we’re older we still make mistakes and relive them. Sometimes we learn from them, other times we just curl up and—’

  ‘—want to die.’

  ‘Oh yes. I suppose it was a bit like that when I was out for the count. I came round. I was told – later – to really live. So why don’t we both do that?’

  Ralph was looking across the beck, so deep and slow and slumbering. Beth stood by him, and his arm was round her shoulders. He whispered, ‘Be angry with Bob and Norris. Not yourself, not any more. Forgive them, or forget them, not sure if it matters which.’

  ‘You had a car accident and it made you come to your senses,’ said Beth, ‘but, Ralph Massingham, I’m not going to ride me bike into a tree to change meself.’ She bobbed a curtsy, and though her tone was strained, she was trying.

  Ralph laughed. ‘I’ll push you in the beck and haul you out, telling you it wasn’t your mistake that put you there. Heavens, girl, you pulled Mrs Bedley round. What else do you need to do to feel proud?’

  He passed over his handkerchief. ‘Your nose is running.’ She blew it, offering it back. He grimaced. ‘You can wash that and return it when you’re on track, eh? And if you ever want to talk, I’m the master of mistakes. Also, you have your gang, your work …’ Ralph looked at his watch. ‘Speaking of which, the aft shift is looming.’

  As they walked back, Ralph said, ‘Will you let me pay for the divorce, just to set you free?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, for that’s someone else setting me free, and that’s no way to sort it. You’ll be there to talk to, and that’s enough. You see, my marrers are happy being in love, so I canna disturb them.’

  As they approached, Beth slipped from beneath his arm. ‘Maybe you’ll need someone to talk to as well, so don’t you forget me, eh?’

  She walked ahead and he called, ‘Don’t forget to look at who is in front of you. Someone who isn’t in love with anyone else.’ This last he whispered, for Sid had come to meet them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The co-op toiled along the incline that marked the final fifty yards of Massingham Hall’s drive, with Maud Bedley muttering, ‘Why did we say we’d come? Clearing the hall all morning, and proggy-rugging all afternoon with this set of scamps? ’Tis Good Friday, and they were in school this morning for Bible stories and such like, so I’m hoping they’ll be awash with goodness.’

  ‘On that happy note …’ puffed Annie Hall as she led the way into the garage yard.

  Coming along behind her, Madge adjusted her royal blue eyepatch, stopped with a squeal of brakes and cheered. The others dismounted, staring at her. ‘Listen,’ she called, ‘I’ve just remembered ’tis only the lasses, for our Alfie is to take the lads to the field for footie.’

  Alfie looked up from polishing Ralph’s repaired roadster, which was back in the garage. ‘Too busy, I am. You tell them that.’

  ‘Not a chance, lad,’ Madge almost sang, wheeling her bike to the far end of the garage. ‘No Rolls-Royce?’ she asked.

  ‘Mr Massingham’s taken Sophia to the doctor.’

  ‘Why? Is she badly?’ It was Annie. She gripped Maud’s arm.

  ‘Reckon so. I heard a bit of a kerfuffle, and the next thing the boss was helping her out to the Rolls and she were bleeding from her forehead and as white as a bliddy sheet. Mr Massingham didn’t look much better. Fair shook me.’

  Annie Hall and the others looked at one another, then at Alfie. ‘Why didn’t the Massinghams send you down for us? We’d—’

  Alfie was shaking out the cloth and hanging it up on a hook above the workbench. ‘No, no, Mrs Phillips is here, and has an iron fist in an iron glove, cos she don’t know the meaning of velvet, and Viola’s here too. But I reckon Mrs Phillips would like to get on home, if you can take over. And don’t you be worrying, I were only joking, for I’ll grab the lads and run them ragged on the back field soon as I’ve done with this. But I reckon they’ll not be wanting to do much till Mr Massingham gets back, and I don’t want to neither.’

  It was only then that they saw the worry on the lad’s face, and knew it was reflected on their own.

  ‘Quick, quick,’ ordered Madge, unloading the proggy and hooky frames from the trolley. They each carried two, and scurried across the cobbles and down the steps before bursting into the kitchen. The heat from the range was welcome, and its gurgle and hiss were clear as day in the unnatural silence. The bairns had their heads down, but as the women entered they looked up, Mrs Phillips too.

  ‘By,’ Mrs Phillips said, ‘am I right pleased to see you. Is that Alfie on his way with the football?’

  Annie nodded. ‘In a minute or two.’ She heaped her frames in the corner of the kitchen.

  ‘What’s eleven times five, Eva?’ Melanie called out.

  ‘I don’t bliddy well care.’

  Annie and Madge said together, ‘Language, Eva.’

  Eva stuck out her lower lip. ‘I don’t bliddy care about that either, for Sophia fell and conked her head on the bliddy table. She bled, she did. It were red against her white skin.’

  Maud and Audrey took everyone’s macs to hang in the corridor, while Annie approached the table. ‘That’s quite enough language, Eva. Tell Melanie what eleven times five is, if you please.’

  Eva drew in a deep breath. ‘’Tis fifty-five. Remember the sounds. Eleven times five is fifty-five.’ The bairn beat the time on the table.

  Madge took it up. ‘So twelve times five is …’
/>
  The children looked up and finished it for her. Normality returned, and heads went down to their exercise books again.

  It was only then that Annie went to Eva and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her heart melted as the bairn rested her head against her arm. ‘Sophia is very tired,’ Annie murmured.

  ‘It’s us, isn’t it?’ muttered Abraham. ‘Will they send us to a home, those of us with no one?’

  Just then Viola came running down the stairs, entered and shut the door behind her. ‘Sorry not to be here. I was just sorting out Sophia’s bed, because she’ll go up the minute she comes in, and don’t be silly, Abraham. I heard the end of that, and if Sophia and Reginald can’t manage just at the moment, then the rest of us will sort it out, won’t we?’

  Annie and the others looked at one another, and without missing a beat Maud Bedley nodded. ‘Oh aye, we’ll fight over you, that we will, cos we’ll want all of you.’

  The afternoon drew on. The boys played footie, the girls continued with their rugs under the eagle eye of the co-op, and then they made scones, which came out of the oven as the boys tumbled in. Still, Sophia and Reginald did not return.

  After a couple of hours they heard the hoot of the Rolls-Royce as it entered the yard. No one moved; everyone waited. At last they heard footsteps and voices, and the door opened. Annie’s breath seemed to catch in her chest.

  Sophia entered, a plaster on her forehead, and an amazing smile on her face. The women looked at her, then at one another. The bairns scrambled from their stools and clamoured around her. Reginald came into the kitchen hot on his wife’s heels, and the boys gravitated towards him, standing as though blocking his way.

  ‘Well?’ Abraham demanded, his hands on his hips. ‘What’s amiss?’

  It was Madge who said, ‘Aye, took the words out of me mouth.’

  Sophia looked at Reginald, who nodded, and then she frowned, focusing on the children. ‘What I have to tell you is a secret, and must remain one until we have told Ralph, for his life will be changed.’

  The co-op looked at one another. A smiling Sophia; Ralph’s life changing?

  ‘We can’t keep a secret if you don’t tell us what it is, Sophia,’ said Eva. ‘’Tis no cause for you to smile, Mr Reginald, for we’re nearly peeing ourselves with worry.’

  Reginald laughed aloud then and put his arm around Sophia. Annie knew instantly, just as the other co-op women did, and why on earth hadn’t they seen it before? Viola was smiling as Madge breathed, ‘A …’ She stopped, frowning. Annie understood, for what if the news wasn’t what they thought? After all, Sophia was coming up thirty-nine, so why now?

  Reginald drew Eva to him and held her hand. ‘We’re all to have a baby.’

  The bairns looked at one another, and then at the couple. Tommy said, ‘That means you did – you know, that thing.’

  Sophia flushed.

  Abraham muttered doubtfully to Stephen, ‘Aren’t they too old?’

  Madge was pulling out a stool. ‘Sit yourself down – no, not you, Eva, I meant Sophia. You’re no spring chicken for this, so all this bliddy rushing around must stop.’

  As Sophia moved to the stool, Alfie came in and approached Reginald, his arm outstretched. ‘That’s a relief, and ’tis as well you have Viola. Better make her an offer so she doesn’t do a runner back to the Factory, now there’s to be another, eh?’

  Reginald Massingham nodded and shook Alfie’s hand. ‘Thank you for your sage words of advice. Now, has anyone put the kettle on? Especially if the mother-to-be is so dreadfully old.’

  Sophia slapped his belly with the back of her hand as Viola reached for the kettle. ‘It’s been simmering nicely, Mr Massingham, and I have no intention of leaving you all, so my agent can sit down and keep his big mouth shut. Though he may have a cuppa before polishing the car.’

  As Reginald followed his wife to the table, and the women plied her with questions about the expected arrival date, he suddenly paled. Madge was nearest and gripped him by the arm, hissing at Alfie to take his other side. ‘Bliddy hell,’ she added, ‘’tis the pregnant woman who usually needs smelling salts. Man up, Mr Massingham, for the Lord’s sake.’

  Again, the room fell silent, but then the women started laughing as Reginald was led to the stool and made to sit. Sophia murmured, ‘I’m the one who’s supposed to have the vapours, darling.’

  Annie hurried to the pantry and brought out the cooking brandy. Sophia shook her head. ‘Oh no, I think only the best. Perhaps, Maud, you’d fetch the decanter from the side table in the living room upstairs.’ The two women looked at one another, and in that look was a wealth of meaning, for Maud had been discovered by Sophia at that side table not so long ago, when she had been battling her need for alcohol. Sophia, however, had decided to believe Maud’s protestation of innocence, though both had known it was a lie.

  Maud nodded, for there was no chance that she would have a nip, not after Beth had been so steadfast in her support. She hurried up the stairs, across the hall and into the sitting room, grabbed the decanter and headed back, not in the least tempted, because she had finally accepted her pitman husband’s death.

  Meanwhile, Viola had found a glass for Reginald, but Sophia was insisting that all the adults had a nip too, excluding her, for it was the last thing she felt like, she confessed. At the same time, Viola brought out the jam she had been saving for each of the children’s birthday teas. What could be more fitting for such an occasion? she thought. But instead of being excited, the children had grouped themselves by the back door, whispering, their shoulders hunched. As the adults watched, Sophia went to them and crouched down. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’

  It was Abraham who was pushed forward as Tommy whispered, ‘Tell ’er.’

  Eva pulled him out of the way. ‘If you have your own bairn, why would you want us? And if we go with the co-op we’ll be split up, because they have small houses. So it’ll be an orphanage, ’cept for those who can go to their mams.’

  Sophia stood up, staring helplessly at her husband. Reginald was still white and shaken, but rallied to say, ‘Look, it will make no difference. We love you all – the babe will just be part of everything, and we will need you to be their sisters and brothers. Some of you will go home when the war is over, some will stay. Those who go will come back whenever they want, for what will the babe think if their brothers and sisters disappear?’

  ‘They’ll think we’re under bricks,’ whispered Melanie.

  Annie gripped Maud and Madge’s hands, and somehow kept her smile. It was Audrey Smith who leaned back from the stool, her whisper little more than a breath. ‘’Tis now I wish I could see inside their heads, so we can make sure we heal them.’

  When the co-op cycled down the drive at the end of the afternoon, leaving Viola to sort out the children’s evening, Annie called to the other three, ‘I’m going to St Oswald’s. I will see you tomorrow, ladies.’

  She set off, for she had to see Betty to tell her that she hadn’t forgotten the weight of her in her arms, that though she helped with the evacuees, and would soon help with the bairn too, her own sweet Betty would always be with her.

  From behind, she heard the others calling, ‘Hang on.’ She looked over her shoulder: they were pedalling after her, with Maud yelling, ‘D’you think we would leave you to go alone? Betty needs to know we all remember and miss her. By, we all miss our wee bairns now they’re grown. ’Tis time there’s a new one amongst us. Too many men away, not enough little ones. Even your Bobby, Madge, is growing fast, and into a higher class at school.’

  So, the co-op cycled on together, as they always did, Annie thought, and the comfort it gave her, and them all, was more than words could explain.

  Ralph returned to the Hall at about eleven o’clock, after the end of the shift. His lamp shone a miserable slit of light, but he could do it blindfold anyway. He couldn’t believe how quickly he’d got into the rhythm of sorting the coal on the screens, how much he’d missed the company, how good i
t was to see the lads clomping across the yard to the lamphouse. His leg had stood up well, while the cycling of the morning had been good exercise and he should make sure he kept it up. Standing at the sorting screens was just something he had to become used to again, though it made him realise that hacking at the face, and crawling down low seams, would be a completely different story.

  He was panting hard by the time he reached the top of the drive, and he swept through the entrance of the garage yard with sweat running down his back. He leaned the bike against the wall and patted it, knowing his hand was shaking, just like the rest of him, but it was tiredness after a good day’s work, and felt good. ‘Well done, you. But I think I need to hand you back to Alfie, for I’ll be giving you too much of a run every day, and one day you, or I, will break down. I’ve got to buy my own two wheels, that’s all there is to it.’

  There was no sound from Alfie’s flat as Ralph limped across the yard towards the kitchen. Sophia always left the light on for him, and he realised he hadn’t worried about her today as he’d sorted the coal, but now it all rushed at him. She was just too tired to deal with all these children, so they really did need another person to help.

  He headed down the steps, through the back door into the boot hall, and eased off his boots, leaving them on the newspaper. He entered the kitchen quietly, heading to the bathroom in the butler’s quarters, sluiced himself off and tidied up, then slipped into the pyjamas, slippers and dressing gown left out by Sophia, bless her.

  After he checked the range had been banked up, he headed up the stairs, went through the green baize door, and was about to pad across the hall when he realised the lights were on in the sitting room. Was someone up? He double-checked the clock on the side table. Just gone eleven thirty. It must be his father.

  He peered through the open doorway to see Sophia sitting on the sofa with his father, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. There was a plaster on her forehead. He closed his eyes. Oh Lord above, what now? The fire was glowing with tired embers. He entered and they looked up at him, straightening, as though bracing themselves. Immediately, he knew it was bad news, but what?