Gracie

by Marie Maxwell

  The nausea was ongoing and she felt constantly unwell; she was convinced that, despite all the reassurances from everyone, something was going to go wrong with either the birth or the baby. With more than two months still to go she found herself just wishing it was all over.

  Gracie crept over to the window and peered round the corner of the net curtains to see who was down at the door but just as she peeked, her sister looked up and saw her.

  ‘Cooeee, Gracie … only me. Are you going to open this door or what? I’m freezing to death out here!’

  As she shouted up to her, the young woman below shielded her eyes with one hand and waved with the other.

  Just seeing Jeanette on the doorstep made Gracie feel nervous. The thought of having to sit and make conversation filled her with dread but there was no way out of it now she’d been seen, so she opened the window and waved back.

  ‘I’ll be there in a minute …’ she shouted down, annoyed that she’d let herself be seen.

  ‘Well, get a move on then, fatso, or you could throw a key down …’ Jeanette laughed.

  Although Jeanette and Jennifer were twins by birth they couldn’t have been more different in nature. Jeanette had always been the more demanding and troublesome one who, from the moment she was born, had screamed loud and hard if she didn’t get her own way. She was the one who made the most noise when she wasn’t invited to be a bridesmaid and she was the one who was making all the decisions about the joint wedding that she and her twin Jennifer were planning.

  Despite being younger by ten minutes, Jeanette had always been the leader, while her twin was the quiet thinker who no one really ever got to know, the one who, when things went wrong, would withdraw into herself for weeks at a time. It was because of that no one ever really knew what Jennifer was thinking or how she was feeling.

  When they were young, the four-year age gap between Gracie and the twins had meant that they were never really close, especially as Gracie had always struggled with her mother’s favouritism. From the moment they were born Dot McCabe had focused all her energy on the twins, with Gracie left to fend for herself. Then as the twins grew up and developed their own very different personalities Dot focused everything on Jennifer, the one who caused her the least problems; the one who could seemingly do no wrong.

  The three sisters were siblings but had never been friends and Gracie’s relationship with them was very superficial and occasional, especially after she had left home.

  Although Jennifer had called round a few times to see Gracie after the wedding, Jeanette had only ever been to the flat once, so, because she knew her so well, Gracie quickly surmised that her outgoing sister probably wanted something.

  She went downstairs to the shared lobby and as she pulled the door back, her sister bounced past her, taking the stairs two at a time.

  ‘God, it’s nippy out there! You took so long I thought I was going to freeze to the doorstep. I’ve lost my gloves and I need some warmth,’ she shouted over her shoulder.

  By the time Gracie got into the lounge, Jeanette was already settled in the armchair next to the fire and rubbing her hands in front of the flames.

  ‘Hello Jeannie. Nice to see you too …’ Gracie said, but the sarcasm in her voice went straight over her sister’s head.

  ‘Thanks, Gracie! I tell you what, I really need a cuppa after the morning I’ve just had. No sugar for me, though. I’m watching my waistline, it’s growing too quickly for my liking, and my bosom. Never mind June busting out all over, so is Jeannie McCabe,’ she laughed and Gracie couldn’t help but smile.

  ‘Is that because you’ve chosen your wedding dress?’ Gracie asked.

  ‘Actually that’s what I want to talk to you about, as soon as you’ve made me a cuppa. And I could murder a bit of cake as well, if you’ve got any …’ Jeanette smiled coyly and put on the little girl expression that she thought was cute and which men always found endearing, but which had always infuriated the rest of her family.

  Gracie sighed but didn’t say anything more. Feeling even more nauseous and light-headed than she had before, she went through to the tiny kitchen and made a pot of tea, taking it back on a tray with two cups, a jug of milk and a couple of rich tea biscuits on the side of each saucer.

  ‘That’s a bit la-di-dah, what’s going on with you? A tea tray? Are you turning into mum?’ Jeanette laughed again but Gracie wasn’t sure if it was humour or meanness. She always found her sister hard to figure out.

  ‘It’s just a tray and you either get your tea on a tray or we squeeze in the kitchen and stand up and drink it. I’m not running back and forth. You can take it or leave it. And no, there isn’t any cake.’

  ‘Well, that’s bleedin’ snappy, even for you. What’s up?’

  Gracie sat down heavily on the brown utility sofa and with great effort, lifted her swollen feet up on the red leather pouffe that looked like a camel. The flat was fully furnished by the landlord, and although Sean had wanted to put it out of sight in the cupboard Gracie had rather liked the exoticness of it. It made her think of pyramids and sand, and also reminded her of Leonora Wheaton and her dreams of far-flung places.

  As Gracie sat back on the sofa she sighed. She felt like a big fat frump alongside her fashionably turned out younger sister. Despite being newly washed her hair was as lank and straight as it had been when she was a child, her skirt was too tight, even with the stretch of elastic holding the fastening together, and the borrowed maternity smock that she was wearing over her jumper was like a billowing tent. She hadn’t wanted to spend money on unnecessary maternity clothes and she didn’t have the time to make anything so she just made do when she was indoors. But with Jeanette sitting opposite her looking perfect, Gracie felt more like a down-at-heel old tramp than a young woman expecting her first baby.

  ‘In case you haven’t noticed I’m expecting and I don’t feel well. I hate being like this, a useless fat lump. I just feel horrible all the time, hot and tired …’

  ‘You do look really fat and your legs are enormous, what’s going on with them? What are you going to look like when it’s due? We’ll need to hire a crane to get you out of the chair!’ Her sister laughed but Gracie wanted to cry.

  ‘You can be so bloody horrible sometimes, Jeannie …’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so touchy, I was only trying to cheer you up. I didn’t mean it like that, you know I don’t!’ Jeanette paused and looked at her sister critically. ‘But I mean, you are fat, more that you’re supposed to be. Are you still working or sitting around all day? That’d make you fat, I suppose, and eating too much …’

  Gracie was just a second away from giving her tactless sister a good clip round the ear but she bit back the response she wanted to give. She didn’t want an argument that she knew she would lose in her frame of mind.

  ‘Of course I’m still working, we need the money – but not for much longer. And I’m here doing nothing because today’s my day off,’ Gracie snapped. ‘I’m just lucky that I work where I do and that Ruby is so understanding. Most of the time I manage reception and do some office stuff, though if truth be told I sit behind the desk feeling sick and being no use to anyone.’

  ‘I could help out there if you like, you could put your feet up more often then?’

  ‘You’ve got your own job,’ Gracie replied.

  ‘I know but I hate it at that bloody Ecko factory, it’s just so boring. The only good thing there is the social club. I’d much rather wander round a hotel looking important like you do. Anyway, I have to change my job …’ Jeanette opened her eyes wide and bit her lip. ‘Gracie, I’ve called the wedding off! Mum and Jenny have both gone mad, I’m really in the doghouse with everyone and it’s difficult with Mick working at Ecko and being my boss and all …’

  ‘What went wrong? I thought it was all on for a big flash double wedding?’ Gracie asked her sister, more out of politeness than actual interest.

  ‘Boring. He became so bloody boring. It was fun being engaged at the star
t but then I got to know him!’ Jeanette laughed loud and hard, and Gracie found herself joining in. ‘I did the right thing and gave him the ring back, but now I’m in a fix because he’s still my boss and I’ve dumped him from on high. I was sort of hoping you’d see your way to helping me out.’

  Gracie shook her head. ‘So you’re here because you want a job? You didn’t just come to see how I am? What a surprise …’

  Jeanette laughed and batted her eyelashes. ‘I did want to see how you are, really I did, but I also thought I could kill two birds with one stone. Or three birds! A job would be nice, thank you very much, but mostly I really need somewhere to live for a bit. Mum’s being such a cow over the wedding and everything. She and Jen are like a pair of old crones together.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know where you can go. I hope you weren’t thinking about staying at the hotel, that’s not allowed …’

  ‘No, I wasn’t thinking of the hotel. Gracie, you’ve got a spare room, can’t I stay here? Just for a while. I can pay rent and that’ll help you when you have to stop working.’

  Gracie looked at her sister and laughed.

  ‘Jeannie, I give you top marks for bare-faced cheek. I never see you and then you turn up bold as brass and want me to give you a job and somewhere to live? You’ve got more front than Woolworths …’

  ‘I know, but you love me for it,’ Jeannie grinned. ‘Will you think about it? Please? I’ll go nuts if I have to listen to Mum and Jen going on and on about how selfish and horrible I am for mucking up their wedding plans. Never mind my feelings; and then at work I’ve got Mick looking sadly at me like a stray mongrel staring at a pig’s trotter in the butcher’s window. Pleeeease?’

  Gracie didn’t want to smile but she couldn’t help herself. Her younger sister had always been able to equally annoy and amuse her, right from the moment the twins had developed very different personalities. It had upset her that she had seen so little of them after the St Angela’s episode, her mother had seen to that, but after the fragile peace was brokered by the family going to the wedding she had at least had a little more contact with both her sisters.

  ‘I’ll think about it, okay? But it will only be for a little while, until you find somewhere yourself, because we’ll need the room once the baby’s here. And it would have to be up to Sean as well. We make decisions together.’

  Gracie wasn’t convinced she could cope with having her buoyant younger sister living there but she didn’t feel well enough for a pleading session so it was easier at that moment to take the line of least resistance. And she could also see the benefit of some extra money coming in.

  ‘Where’s Sean now?’ Jeanette suddenly asked. ‘Is he at work?’

  ‘Yes, but he’ll be home in an hour, and now you’ve reminded me I’d better go and start getting the dinner ready. Sean hates it when his dinner isn’t on the table,’ Gracie answered, hoping Jeanette would take the hint and leave but instead she jumped up.

  ‘I’ll do dinner for you. Tell me what it’s going to be and I’ll do it. You stay there and keep your feet up; it’ll help that bloody awful swelling go down.’

  Gracie was momentarily lost for words. Whereas Jennifer had always been caring and domesticated, Jeanette never usually did anything of her own volition, even when she was after something. But the thought of not having to drag herself into the kitchen was just too appealing for her to turn the offer down.

  ‘Are you sure? I made the steak and kidney pie yesterday, it’s in the larder, but if you can peel the spuds and shell the peas – that’d be a help.’

  ‘Whatever you need doing, I’ll do it. You look so rough …’ Jeannie pulled a face. ‘Sorry, no offence, but you do look dead on your feet. I don’t like seeing you looking so worn out, it’s not like you.’

  With that, Jeanette disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Gracie sitting with her feet up, feeling relieved and just a bit mean. She knew Jeanette was trying to get round her and she was taking advantage of it because she felt so unwell.

  It was proving to be a difficult pregnancy, which was a disappointment, because Gracie had been looking forward to being able to do everything properly instead of hiding it all away. She had wanted to savour her pregnancy, talk about it and enjoy the process but instead she had ended up hating every minute. From the early sickness that never went away, through to the grossly swollen ankles and aching back, she could only imagine how bad it would get in the run-up to the birth. She had never anticipated it being such a trial, especially after remembering the ease of the first pregnancy which she’d successfully hidden for nearly the whole duration.

  It was also a disappointment to her that Sean, the man who had wanted the baby as much as she had, was acting as if her sickness was an irritant to him. Instead of understanding he was either snappy to the point of rude or else he took no notice of her. She justified it to herself as him being over-tired from working so hard but it hurt her nonetheless. That wasn’t how she had envisaged her married life would be.

  She could hear Jeanette pottering in the kitchen and although she knew exactly what her motive was, Gracie decided to savour the moment. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes but instead of peace wafting over her there was once again guilt and memories; all she could think about was that the way she was feeling was retribution for giving baby Joseph up.

  As Gracie started to doze off, it all came flooding back …

  TWELVE

  1946

  Gracie’s welcome to St Angela’s mother and baby home had been even more frosty and judgemental than she had dreaded on the almost-silent journey there in Father Thomas’s old boneshaker of a car.

  Her mother had thrown a few things into a small case, handed it to her at the top of the stairs and then turned away, leaving Gracie to follow Father Thomas out to the car alone. Just before she climbed in she looked up at the window and saw her mother peering around the edge of the lace curtain, but the second Dot McCabe saw her daughter she dropped the curtain, without acknowledging her.

  The priest had indicated to her to sit in the back and she had sat bolt upright behind him, clasping her suitcase to her chest throughout the journey, which seemed to take forever. She had actually wanted it to take forever because she didn’t ever want to arrive at her destination, but eventually the car slowed right down. Gracie’s heart started to pound as they turned off the narrow country lane, pulled into a wide gravelled driveway and stopped in front of an imposing pair of iron gates. They were ornate, tall and wide and were boarded from behind, so no one could see what was on the other side. The high ivy-covered brick wall either side of the gates disappeared off into the distance and was bordered on the inside by tall conifers. Not knowing exactly what was behind the gates made it seem both attractive and frightening at the same time. It could have been either a lovely country house or a ghostly mansion like the ones in the horror films Gracie had seen at the cinema.

  ‘This is St Angela’s convent where you’ll be staying until after … well, you’ll be staying here until everything is dealt with and you can go back home again,’ the priest said, as an elderly man with his head bowed and eyes averted opened one of the gates wide to let the car through, then quickly closed it again. ‘You know this is the only option for a young girl like yourself? It’s not a punishment, Gracie, it’s a solution and I hope you never find yourself doing something so wrong again.’

  ‘No, Father …’ Gracie had answered, without really listening.

  Driving slowly along the unmade drive that led up to the house, she had been a little reassured by the sight of the grand old building that stood in the centre of what could have been a park. For a moment she was almost relieved; she had been expecting to be confronted by a prison or a workhouse. But although it looked impressive, the silence was eerie, and there wasn’t a single person to be seen either in the grounds or at the windows.

  Again fighting her urge to run somewhere, anywhere, Gracie had walked up the steps to the double front doors of the
main entrance, alongside Father Tom, his hand resting reassuringly on the small of her back. He rang the bell and they waited until a door was opened by a woman in ordinary clothes, who silently waved them into the vast unfurnished lobby, where the tiled floor echoed their every footstep.

  The moment the door had banged shut three nuns appeared as if from nowhere, hands clasped and heads bowed in front of the priest. But while he was greeted as a visiting dignitary by the deferential Mother Superior and taken straight to her office, Gracie had been quickly bundled off in the opposite direction with a nun either side of her. Although they walked close to her, neither of them touched her or looked at her. Gracie felt as if she was carrying a communicable disease rather than a baby.

  She was marched along in silence by the two women who, in their black and white floor-length habits, seemed to be floating as they swept quickly along the corridor, with a pregnant Gracie trying hard to keep up. When they reached the end of the second corridor one of them said ‘Stop’ in a voice that made Gracie immediately pause in her tracks. They turned sideways in unison and one of them produced a key from inside her habit, unlocked the door and gently pushed Gracie into a small windowless room that resembled a prison cell. There was a narrow bench running along the wall and a trolley in the corner that was covered over with a cloth.

  ‘Do not speak,’ Gracie was told when she tried to ask what was going to happen to her. ‘While you are here you do exactly as you’re told, and you’ll be treated without fear or favour by everyone here. Silence is not a request, it’s an order. You only speak when spoken to and follow our orders to the letter.’

  She was then given sharply issued instructions on what to do and as the nuns left the room, Gracie heard the click of the key being turned.