An Uncertain Heart

by June Tate

  As she poured her first cup, she was struck by a vicious pain that caught her unawares and she dropped the teapot, which clattered to the tiles on the kitchen floor and smashed, spilling hot tea over her leg. She screamed with pain.

  James came rushing down the stairs to find her doubled up. He saw the broken pot and the red mark on her leg. Realising what had happened he soaked a cloth in cold water and applied it to her leg, then rang for an ambulance.

  Holding her close, he talked softly to calm her.

  ‘I’m in labour,’ she told him as another pain gripped her.

  ‘Don’t worry, darling. The ambulance will soon be here and we’ll soon have you in good hands.’

  It was a long labour and, as every hour passed, James became more concerned. Margaret, who had been summoned to the hospital, tried to comfort him.

  ‘Babies cannot be rushed, my dear,’ she told him, ‘they come when they’re ready and not before.’

  But as time went on, the doctors became worried that the baby was suffering and they worked hard with Helen, helping her and urging her to push, although knowing she was exhausted, worried that delay was dangerous to both mother and child.

  At long last she managed to give birth, but the cord was round the baby’s neck, stopping it breathing. The doctor immediately unwound the cord, slapping the baby until to everyone’s relief it breathed and let out a cry.

  Outside in the corridor, James was beside himself with worry. He and Margaret walked up and down, sitting then standing, not knowing what to do. Each silently praying, neither speaking their innermost fears, lest they came to pass.

  Eventually, the doctor came out to speak to them. ‘Congratulations, Mr Havers, you have a daughter.’

  ‘My wife?’

  ‘It’s been a bit of a struggle but we got there in the end.’

  ‘What do you mean exactly? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Your wife is very weak after such a long labour. She will need time to recover. She also has a nasty burn, which is painful, but we’ll take care of that. Now, I’ll let you see her but only for a few minutes, she needs to rest.’

  His face drained of colour, James went into the room and looked at his wife, laying back on her pillow. She had dark circles under her eyes and was even paler than he was. He had never been more scared in his life as he took her hand.

  ‘Helen? Darling, I’m so sorry to put you through this.’ His voice caught in his throat.

  ‘Don’t be silly. This wasn’t your doing, the baby was in trouble, but darling, we have a daughter.’

  A nurse came over and showed him a small bundle wrapped in a blanket.

  James stared at the small face and tears welled in his eyes. He looked over at Helen.

  ‘She’s beautiful, just like her mother.’

  Helen gave a wan smile. ‘I feel far from beautiful at the moment, I’m so very tired.’

  The doctor quietly told James it was time to leave and so he leant over and kissed his wife.

  ‘I’ll come back tomorrow, darling. I love you.’

  Outside in the corridor, he wept.

  Margaret held him and tried to comfort him.

  ‘If I lost her, I don’t know what I’d do,’ he said.

  ‘But she’s going to be alright, James. She’s just weak, but thankfully everything is fine and you have a daughter!’

  He smiled amid his tears. ‘She’s so beautiful, Margaret. You wait until you see her, but I can’t see us having another, I couldn’t put Helen through that again.’

  ‘Oh, James, many people have said that and have gone on to have more. Time will take care of that. Come on, let’s go home. Tomorrow you’ll feel better and so will Helen.’

  Two weeks later mother and daughter were allowed home. James had filled the house with flowers and Margaret had been baking. James had finished the nursery, ready for his daughter, Rebecca. Everything was ready for their return.

  James collected his family from the hospital and drove home carefully. Then with great pride, carried his baby into the house where Margaret was waiting, kettle boiling, cups and saucers laid out on a tray.

  Helen kissed her mother. ‘It’s so lovely to be home, Mum.’

  ‘Now, you sit down, darling, and have a cup of tea and make yourself comfortable. Then you can do what you like, but it will give you time to unwind. Leaving hospital is always unsettling, I found.’

  Helen gazed at all the flowers and grinned at her husband.

  ‘The flowers are lovely, James. A few more and it would be like a funeral parlour!’

  He looked horrified. ‘Oh my God! That’s the last thing I wanted.’

  ‘I’m only joking, darling, but I have to say the florist shop must be pretty empty.’

  Still holding the baby, he came and sat beside her.

  ‘I just wanted to show you how much you’d been missed.’ Leaning forward he kissed her. ‘Welcome home, darling.’ Then looking down at the baby he said, ‘And that goes for you too, young lady.’

  Margaret disappeared into the kitchen to give them some privacy.

  ‘Now, Helen, you need time to recover so I’ve a lady to come in to do the cleaning and Margaret is in the spare bedroom and will be here to give you some moral support. I’ve been told all new mothers want their own mothers nearby with a first baby. Is that alright, darling?’

  Seeing his worried frown, Helen hastened to assure him.

  ‘That sounds marvellous,’ she said. ‘You have been really thoughtful and I do appreciate it. Now, please relax and have some tea.’

  The following weeks seemed to fly past. The baby, Rebecca, thrived, Helen was restored to health, apart from a nasty scar on her leg from the burn, and James was busy breaking in his latest horses. As September passed, the trees shed their leaves and the first frosts of winter made their appearance.

  Helen hadn’t been riding, she’d been too busy being a new mother, but she had taken Rebecca into the stables with her one day and she and James introduced her to Cleo, who didn’t seem particularly interested.

  ‘She’s just jealous,’ James declared. ‘Now I have two women other than her and she’s put out, aren’t you, my beauty?’ he said and made to rub her nose. To their great amusement, she flicked her head away.

  ‘There! What did I tell you?’

  ‘If she had two legs instead of four, I’d be really worried,’ Helen teased, ‘but I can hardly accuse you of being unfaithful with a horse!’

  Putting an arm around her he said, ‘I would never be unfaithful to you, my darling. Why on earth would I?’ He looked across at Cleo. ‘You might as well get used to the idea that you are no longer top of my list, girl!’

  As they walked away, Cleo whinnied and snorted loudly, as if in protest. They left the stables laughing at her performance.

  Chapter Thirty

  This year, Christmas was spent at the farmhouse. Both sets of parents drove over on Christmas morning in time to go to church whilst the turkey was cooking. It was a bright if cold day and snow had been forecast for Boxing Day. Larders were stocked for the holiday and knowing how heavy the snow could fall in the area, everyone was prepared.

  Rebecca was far too young to understand what Christmas was all about but the rest of the family rejoiced in opening gifts after lunch, drinking champagne and collapsing on the settees and chairs in time for the King’s speech.

  As they listened, James looked around the room at his nearest and dearest, silently thanking God for seeing him through the war, for meeting the amazing woman who was his wife and mother to his child. Thankful that apart from the odd moment he seemed now able to lead a relatively normal life. Thankful that Helen had stood by him and hadn’t walked away and left him when he’d thought he couldn’t ask her to share his life, carrying such baggage after the war. His business was slowly becoming established and he was a happy man, unlike many who had returned and were standing on street corners selling matches to make a living.

  The following week, Helen was reading
The Telegraph and saw that in the honours list Richard had been knighted for his services during the war and his contribution in the medical field. She was delighted for him, it was well deserved, but she couldn’t help but think his wife would now be insufferable!

  Ann Carson was beside herself with glee. Lady Carson! It did have a certain ring about it, she thought. She couldn’t wait to go to Buckingham Palace with Richard and see him kneel before the King. She would buy a new fur coat and hat for the occasion, after all she had to live up to her title also. She couldn’t wait until her first meeting with the other wives, when she would swan into the restaurant to meet them as Lady Carson. She would insist on buying champagne to celebrate, making sure they marked the occasion.

  Richard was delighted to be recognised for his work but he knew without his team, especially Helen, working with him, he could never have achieved his aims and was more than a little irritated by his wife’s high-and-mighty attitude.

  ‘Don’t let this go to your head, Ann,’ he said over dinner when she was crowing about being a lady. ‘It is me that is being knighted for my work, not you! If I find you using your title inappropriately, I will be more than displeased and I will not tolerate it. Do I make myself clear?’

  She sat up straight in her chair and glared at him. ‘I think I earned my title too, Richard – after all, I married you, looked after you during your early years. Surely I earned some recognition?’

  ‘You seem to have forgotten that we parted for a while, Ann. That in fact our marriage was all but over. If you hadn’t realised you couldn’t survive in society without me, you wouldn’t be here now, so less of the good wife. Just be thankful that I took you back into the home! If anyone deserves your title, it’s all of my team who worked with me in the field and here in London.’

  ‘Like the sainted Helen, I suppose!’

  ‘Indeed, she of all people. She worked with me under gunfire when sometimes we had to run for our lives, and in the operating theatre she is worthy of her own medal, to my mind.’

  Ann lifted her glass and said spitefully, ‘Well sadly it’s me that has the title, not her. What a great shame!’ She took a sip of wine with a smug grin.

  He gave her a withering look. ‘What a bitch you really are! But be very careful, my dear. I still have the keys to the flat in Chelsea, so behave before you find yourself back there.’ He rose from the table, donned his coat and walked out of the house.

  Taking another sip of wine, Ann was unconcerned. It was an idle threat on her husband’s part. About to be knighted, there was no way he could send her packing, it would cause too much of a scandal. No, she was safe for some time to come and no one, not even Richard, was going to spoil her elevated position.

  The great day arrived. A chauffeur drove them to the palace in a Rolls Royce hired for the occasion. Richard, resplendent in top hat and tails, Ann in a mink coat and hat, driving down the Mall looking out of the window of the car. It was all she could do to stop herself giving the royal wave to the pedestrians.

  She sat and watched her husband kneel to receive the sword on his shoulders and his knighthood, pass a few words with King George V, step back and walk away.

  Outside, the photographers took their picture with Richard holding his medal as she beamed at them, smiled lovingly up at her husband and kept saying in her mind … Lady Carson … Lady Carson.

  They were then driven to the Savoy for a celebration lunch, with some of Richard’s associates from the hospital. It was a happy occasion made perfect for her the first time she was addressed as Lady Carson. The only thing that spoilt her day was when they returned home and Richard received a telegram, which read Congratulations on your very well-deserved knighthood. Helen and James. But she wisely didn’t comment.

  Three days later, Ann walked out of a shop in Knightsbridge and stopped to gaze into the window when behind her she heard a familiar voice.

  ‘Good afternoon, Ann, or should I say Lady Carson?’

  Her heart seemed to miss a beat as she turned to face Clive Bradshaw. All her pomposity melted away as she gazed at the man who in the past had been her lover for two wonderful nights.

  ‘Clive!’

  ‘How are you, my dear? I was delighted to see your husband knighted in the honours list. That must have made you very proud.’

  ‘Thank you, Clive. It did. It was richly deserved. How are you keeping and how is the charity going – well?’

  ‘Thank you, I’m fine. As for the charity, we do miss you. For me it hasn’t been the same without you. I was sorry that you felt you had to leave.’

  ‘At the time, Clive, you gave me little choice, as I recall!’

  ‘And I have lived to regret it, I have to say.’

  ‘Really?’ Her voice softened.

  ‘Yes, really. Look, can’t we go and have some tea somewhere and catch up with each other’s news?’

  ‘I’d like that,’ she said, ‘it’s been ages since we’ve seen one another.’

  They settled in a nearby cafe, ordering tea and cakes. Clive brought her up to date with the charity business, then he asked, ‘How is life with you these days? Are you happy?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘I suppose so. Richard and I chug along. As long as he has all the comforts of home, meals on the table, etcetera, all is well in his world. He’s busy at the hospital, of course. Nothing much has really changed.’

  ‘Oh, come now, Ann. Being a lady must have some kudos for you?’

  She couldn’t help but preen for a moment.

  ‘Well, yes of course. I am given a table in restaurants very quickly, when I ring to book theatre tickets, I get great service.’ She gave a chuckle of delight. ‘I love it!’

  Knowing her as well as he did, Clive added, ‘Your social standing with the other wives too, no doubt, has elevated you?’

  She looked at him with twinkling eyes. ‘Some of them are really jealous. They try not to show it but I know they are. It’s very satisfying. Isn’t that naughty of me?’

  Clive started laughing. ‘Oh, my dear, you haven’t changed at all. It was that streak of wickedness that I loved about you.’

  She gazed across the table at him and softly said, ‘I’ve really missed you, Clive. Apart from our wonderful time in Birmingham, I missed those weekly luncheon dates we used to enjoy.’

  ‘So have I, Ann. So have I.’

  ‘Is there any real reason stopping us from meeting weekly again, just to sit and chat? I can’t see the harm, can you? I know you were shocked when I was living apart from Richard when I hoped we could have been closer, but having lunch isn’t doing anyone any harm, is it?’

  He saw the vulnerability in her eyes and recognised the fact that beneath her bluster, she really wasn’t truly happy and he felt sorry for her. He also still had strong feelings for this woman, even knowing her faults – and he was lonely.

  ‘No, I can’t see any harm in our meeting at all. It will do us both good.’

  They made an appointment for the following week and as they left, he kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘I’m so pleased we met today, Ann, and I look forward to our lunch date.’

  Ann watched him walk away, filled with excitement and delight at the outcome. She wouldn’t mention this to Richard, he’d only grumble at her having any tenuous link that might lead her back to working for a charity again. Besides, this was her secret, which made it feel somewhat naughty, and she liked that.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The spring arrived all too soon it seemed to Helen. Almost before she realised it, Christmas and New Year had flown by and here was April! What happened to the months in between? She sat drinking a cup of tea in her kitchen after she settled Rebecca outside in her pram for a nap. Her baby was now nine months old and gorgeous, James was busy and at the moment keeping well, breaking in new horses, and he now had Mick, a young man helping him, but Helen was restless. It wasn’t that she didn’t have enough to fill her day, what with the baby, the house and helping James with h
is bookings when necessary, which wasn’t that often; once he’d started training his horses, it took time before they were ready to sell on and it was this fallow time that Helen hated. Despite the fact that when she married James she’d been happy to give up her nursing, now she found she was missing it. She realised she had needed a break after her war years to recuperate mentally from the stresses and strains she’d encountered, but now she desperately needed more. She didn’t tell James of her restlessness, she knew he wouldn’t have understood, but Margaret, her mother, sensed the inner turmoil of her daughter, and that afternoon she called in to see Helen.

  Walking into the kitchen carrying some home-made cake, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat down.

  ‘How are you, darling? Rebecca is asleep, by the way. I peeped into the pram on my way in. Are you alright?’

  ‘I’m fine … well actually I’m not, to be honest. It’s odd, Mum, but I really miss nursing, something I never thought I’d say.’

  ‘Why are you surprised? It has been your adult life and you were good at it. You’re bound to miss it, especially now you are settled. So what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘What can I do? I have a baby and a husband to look after.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean you can’t find a way to satisfy your frustration. Why not apply for part-time work in the local hospital?’

  ‘How on earth can I do that?’

  ‘I could come and look after Rebecca a few days a week. I’d love it, and you could work so you’d feel happier. Have a word with Doctor Coombs, he would know if there was an opening, he goes to the hospital often.’