War Babies

by Annie Murray

‘Eh, you two – pack it in!’ Dolly yelled, wading in.

  ‘What in heaven’s name is going on?’ Gladys hurried out into the yard. ‘Dolly, you keep out of it – you’re in no state . . .’ All the same, both of them set about hauling the two scrapping women apart.

  Rachel stood, panting and tugging at Gladys’s arms as she tried to hold her back. She could feel the burning from her cuts beginning and a hot trickling sensation down her right cheek, but she couldn’t care less. She stared triumphantly at Irene, who was scratched all over her face, her hair dishevelled and a bleeding cut over her left eyebrow. None of her own pain mattered in the slightest – she was full of a delicious, swelling ecstasy, of having let all the tension erupt out of her. To make it even more satisfying, she knew she was in the right – so sod Irene!

  ‘You’re a stupid cow, Irene!’ she bellowed as Gladys hauled her back towards the house. ‘You’ll get your daughter back when she wakes up and not before!’

  ‘I should’ve thought you’d’ve had more sense,’ Gladys said, back inside. ‘Look at the state of you! But by God, that one’s had it coming to her.’

  Nothing seemed to shatter Rachel’s momentary, carefree mood. She peered in the glass on the wall. Her hair was wild as a madwoman’s and her gaunt cheeks were smeared with blood from cuts and punches. ‘God – what a mess!’ she said, but then found herself laughing at the sight, unable to stop, until tears ran down her cheeks.

  Gladys was buttoning her coat. ‘I’m going out,’ she said, with a disdainful sniff, ‘to get your husband his medicine. And by the time I get back I should’ve thought you’d have pulled yourself together.’

  ‘Danny –’ Rachel shook him awake. ‘Here – Auntie’s got this for you. You’d better take some.’

  Danny opened his eyes, utterly bewildered for a moment. He was still feverish but seemed calmer.

  ‘You haven’t been sick again?’ she asked.

  ‘No –’ He accepted the water she was holding out to him. ‘I think it’s stopped.’ He peered blearily at her. ‘What the hell’s happened to you?’

  ‘Irene,’ she said, measuring out the medicine for him. ‘We had a bit of a barney.’ She sank down onto the edge of the bed. ‘Here – open wide.’

  ‘I was dreaming I was back there again,’ Danny said, lying back, exhausted. He sounded vulnerable, almost tearful. ‘It’s being sick, like this – just the same. I had to keep walking along that road . . . So hot . . . Dust . . . Never felt so bad before . . .’ He was drifting off to sleep again. Rachel leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  She crept out of the room and down to the one below, where she found Evie lying in the bed, looking around her.

  ‘Hello, bab,’ she said. The little girl brought out a special tenderness in her. Rachel had never felt that her own mother liked or wanted her and for Evie it was even worse.

  Evie sat up. ‘Po,’ she said.

  ‘Come on then.’ Rachel sat her on the pot to relieve herself. ‘We need to take you back to your mom,’ she told her as Evie looked up at her. ‘Would you like a piece first?’

  The little girl nodded. Rachel led her down to sit at the table, near Tommy who was in his chair. Mo had fixed a wooden tray across it for him to play with things on and he was fiddling with some tin soldiers Gladys had bought him at the market. He brightened up at the sight of Evie and made his noises of welcome. He loved having other children around. Rachel cut her a piece of bread and scraped margarine over it.

  ‘Here you are – get that down you.’ And then we’d better go and face the music again, she thought, full of dread now that she had calmed down.

  Holding Evie by the hand, she knocked at Irene’s house. Irene came to the door, her own face dotted with angry red welts and scratches, though she had tidied up her hair. With satisfaction, Rachel noticed that Irene looked worse than she did. She wondered if Irene would start on her again, but suddenly she was all wheedling charm.

  ‘Thanks ever so much for looking after her,’ she said. ‘I never meant to leave her out there – it was a mistake. Course it was! Come on, Evie,’ she called in honeyed tones. ‘You come inside and we’ll do summat nice, while those other two’re out of the way at school.’

  Evie looked especially confused by this offer and still seemed dazed. She wandered up the step into the house. Irene leaned her voluptuous body against the door frame.

  ‘How’s your husband?’ she asked ingratiatingly. ‘Mrs Morrison said he’s poorly.’

  ‘He’s got malaria,’ Rachel said, feeling rather important. ‘He caught it fighting out east.’

  ‘Fancy,’ Irene said, determinedly unimpressed.

  Rachel paused. ‘Look – Netta’s coming round this afternoon with her kids.’ Netta, to her joy, was expecting again now and well on into the pregnancy. ‘Just for a cuppa, when school’s out. You can come too if you like.’

  Irene considered, a haughty look coming over her face for a moment, but if she was going to make a rude retort, she thought the better of it. ‘All right,’ she said grudgingly. ‘Ta.’

  Forty-Three

  That day Danny started sweating like nothing Rachel had ever seen before. It poured off him, soaking the bedclothes. His face was shiny with moisture. He assured her that this had happened before, was part of the illness.

  ‘It’s horrible,’ she said, when she went up late that afternoon. The room reeked of sweat. ‘I’d better change the bed.’ One thing they did have was sheets, thanks to Gladys. But she felt exhausted by the thought of all the washing.

  ‘Not ’til this bit’s over,’ Danny said, shivering. ‘No point. They’ll be soaked again in a few minutes. This is how it goes. I’ve just got to keep drinking.’

  Rachel brought him more water. ‘I’ve never seen anyone sweat so much,’ she said. ‘If you don’t drink, you’ll end up looking like a prune.’

  ‘Ta very much –’ He gulped down some more water and lay back. ‘Who was that here – I heard someone.’

  ‘Oh – it was Netta, my pal. Came round with her kids. And Irene.’

  ‘Irene? I thought you said you’d just socked her one?’

  ‘Yeah –’ Rachel was heading for the door. There was so much to do, Tommy to see to. ‘She socked me one an’ all – but . . .’ She shrugged. ‘You know.’

  ‘Stay –’ Danny reached out his arm. ‘Talk to me. I want you here.’

  ‘I can’t stop now,’ she gabbled, feeling under pressure. She could hear Tommy shrieking downstairs. ‘I’ve got to get the kids their tea, massage Tommy and get him off to bed – and Auntie wants me to help her with a load of stuff needs ironing.’

  Danny dropped his hand and turned away, closing his eyes.

  ‘Danny – love? I’ll be back a bit later. I will – there’s just so much to do.’

  But there was no reply.

  ‘Why did Evie sleep in my bed last night?’ Melly asked while she was having tea.

  Rachel paused, holding up a spoonful of potato for Tommy. He was not eating well today. There was already a mess of spat-out food on the tray of his chair and down his front. Her head was throbbing with tiredness and she was stiff with tension. There was the usual worry that Tommy was not getting enough to eat, combined with burning impatience at the slow, revolting process of trying to get anything down him. Rachel knew that Gladys, who was sitting nearby, sewing, was waiting to use the table.

  ‘She just needed somewhere to sleep,’ she said.

  Melly looked severely at her. ‘But why did she need somewhere?’

  Rachel thought of Danny’s turned-away face upstairs, looked at the swamp of spat-out food on Tommy’s tray. She took a deep breath, feeling she was about to explode.

  ‘She just did – all right?’ she snapped.

  Melly tightened her lips. ‘Why did you have a fight with Mrs Sutton?’ she asked, not for the first time.

  ‘Come on, Melly,’ Gladys said. ‘You want to shake yer feathers and get that tea down you. I’ve got things to do.’

&
nbsp; ‘But—’ Melly persisted.

  ‘Just eat up,’ Rachel told her. ‘Or the mice’ll have it.’

  Melly frowned even more at this.

  ‘I think Tommy’s had all he’s having for today,’ Rachel said briskly. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up, young man – ups-a-daisy! Out you come.’

  ‘There aren’t any mice,’ Melanie was muttering. ‘Only in the brew house. I saw one in there.’

  The evening seemed endless. Rachel was just longing to sit down with a cup of tea and close her eyes, but there were all the usual chores. She went up and down a couple of times to check whether Danny wanted anything. The sweating had worn off and he seemed quiet and drowsy. When she finally got to bed her head was still throbbing and she was longing to lie quite still and sleep. But she was churned up over Danny, feeling he was sulking and disappointed in her.

  He was turned away from her as she got into bed, but his body was cooler now. She lay a hand on his back. ‘Danny? You awake?’

  He made a faint, drowsy noise and seemed to shrink away from her hand, though she was not sure if it was deliberate.

  ‘I love you,’ she said tearfully. If only he would turn to her and be the old Danny, so sweet and so hungry for her!

  But there was no reply. She lay, feeling more alone than she had when he was away. At least then she had been able to concentrate just on the children. Now she spent her whole life feeling torn in two.

  As Danny recovered she tried to spend more time with him. But if she was upstairs she really had to take Tommy as well, not leave him on his own. It would be a chance for Danny to get to know him, she thought.

  A couple of days later, when Danny was sitting up, she carried Tommy up so they could be with him. Danny was even thinner now. His hair had grown out of its military crop but his face looked yellowish against the sheets. He was beginning to eat, though, and he was definitely on the mend.

  ‘Look, Tommy –’ She made a joke of them peering around the door. ‘There’s your dada!’

  Tommy squirmed and waved his good arm, a trickle of saliva running down his chin as he made his happy chirruping noises.

  ‘Look who I brought to see you!’ she said to Danny, and she got onto the bed with Tommy and propped him up between them, in the curve of her arm. She leaned round to kiss Danny.

  ‘All right, son?’ Danny turned to look at him. He was wary with Tommy, as if he did not know what to do with him.

  ‘You look a lot better,’ she said.

  ‘I’m all right. I’ll be up soon.’

  ‘D’you want a cup of tea?’

  ‘No, it’s all right. Stay here.’ He seemed worried that she would go and leave him alone with Tommy.

  There was still an awkwardness between them which she tried to fill with chatter.

  ‘You should’ve seen Dolly this morning – she’s a right one. Ever since she found out she was expecting again she’s been ordering Mo about, making him do everything for her. It’s all, “I can’t possibly do that, Mo, not in my condition.” She’s even sending him down the shops! I mean, I know she’s joking, sort of, but poor old Mo – he’s like a donkey ever since they knew they’re having another one!’ She turned to him, joking, ‘I’ll have to try that one, won’t I?’

  But Danny looked fed up. ‘We’re not going to be having another one, are we, at this rate?’

  She looked at him.

  ‘We’re never on our own, are we – there’s always some babby or summat getting in the way!’

  ‘But Danny –’ She looked across Tommy’s head. Tommy was looking from one to the other of them, intrigued by this new situation. ‘You’ve been so poorly – I mean, you haven’t been in a state to . . .’

  She was wracking her brains . . . When had they last made love? But they had, before he was taken ill. Almost every night, in fact. What on earth was he on about?

  Danny made an angry gesture. ‘But he’s here now. Why does he have to be up here with us? Can’t we have five minutes’ peace?’

  Rachel felt her own anger surge to the fore. ‘He’s a babby, Danny – they don’t just look after themselves, especially one like Tommy. And he’s your son, he’s—’

  ‘Is he?’ He choked out the words as if they had been waiting there. ‘How do I know he’s mine? No one in my family’s ever been like that before.’ He gestured towards Tommy’s legs. ‘Not a cripple.’

  Rachel gathered Tommy to her. She had such a huge, aching lump in her throat that she could not speak. Without looking at Danny she got off the bed and, holding her son close to her, protectively, she took him downstairs. Gladys was out. She strapped Tommy back in his special chair, putting his little bricks and toys on the tray. Sinking down by the table, Rachel lay her head on her arms and wept until she was empty from crying.

  Forty-Four

  By the next weekend, Danny was up and about again, though still looking tired and a faint shade of yellow.

  ‘You’ll be able to go back to work tomorrow, won’t you?’ Gladys said on the Sunday night. ‘Lofty’ll be glad to have you back after all this.’

  ‘Oh – I’m not going back to Jones’s,’ Danny said.

  Gladys looked up quickly. ‘What d’you mean? You’ve only just started! Lofty Jones gave you that job as a favour.’

  Danny shrugged. ‘He can give it to someone else as a favour then. I’m giving him my notice.’

  Once again, Rachel had a desolate, shrinking feeling. Danny had become a stranger who none of them could reach.

  ‘You want to settle to summat, lad,’ Gladys retorted. ‘You can’t go on like this.’

  ‘Everyone’s very good at telling me what I want!’ Danny flared up, getting to his feet. ‘I’m off down the Salutation. At least there’ll be no one nagging me there!’

  ‘Oh, yes – on whose wages?’ Gladys roared after him. ‘Life’s what you make it, lad – it’s not going to fall in your lap.’

  ‘Danny!’ Rachel protested. ‘Don’t go out.’ She had been hoping for a cosy night in, to go to bed early and make it up to him, to try and get close to him again.

  She flinched as the door slammed and he was gone. Danny seemed to want to be with other men whenever he could. There was no one else in the yard who had been away in the forces. Rachel now felt as if she didn’t count for anything with him. Her tears rose to the surface again but she swallowed them down. Gladys was not a person who invited emotion.

  ‘He’ll have to knuckle down sooner or later,’ Gladys said. ‘The world doesn’t owe him a living. And he’s got a family now.’

  Though she was trying to sound tough, she really sounded upset and bewildered.

  Danny went and got himself another job, in assembly with Coronet Cameras in Summer Lane.

  ‘Is it better than the other jobs?’ Rachel asked. Nowadays she found herself asking him questions she did not really want answered, just to get him to talk to her. Are you all right? she’d ask, or, What’s it like out?

  ‘It’s all right,’ Danny said. Everything he said sounded on the edge of anger. She was becoming almost afraid to speak.

  By the Friday night he had at least held the job down for the first week and received a pay packet.

  ‘Right,’ Gladys ordered him. ‘I want you helping me on the market tomorrow. I could do with someone to bring in some stuff for me.’

  Rachel hoped the market would do Danny good and as he went off with Gladys on Saturday with various bundles of stuff it felt almost like old times.

  It was a nice day for March and after they had gone she wheeled Tommy outside, well wrapped up, to watch the other children play. The younger Morrison boys were outside and they ran back and forth and up to his chair – ‘All right, Tommy!’ ‘Hello, Tommy!’ – touching his nose, making him blink and chuckle. He loved it and was all smiles. And Rachel adored every little blonde one of the Morrison lads, for being Tommy’s allies. She knew they would stand up for him out in the street too, if there was ever any trouble. Sometimes they wheeled him about for fun.r />
  She took a chair out and sat beside Tommy, turning her face up to the weak sunlight. After a moment she noticed Evie, wandering about by herself. She had one finger in her mouth and was scuffing along the yard staring at her feet, looking very subdued. Her skimpy frock was all stains, and she had only one scruffy old pump on her left foot, the other bare. Her hair was a bird’s nest of tangles.

  ‘She must be cold,’ Rachel said to Melly, her heart going out to the little girl. ‘Go and see to her, love, eh?’

  Melly went over in a motherly way and took the little girl’s hand. ‘Where’s Rita and Shirl – ain’t they playing out with you?’ Rachel heard her ask, but Evie just shook her head. She never said much at the best of times.

  ‘Take her inside and put your old cardi on her,’ Rachel said. ‘And give her a piece as well, Melly – she looks half-starved to me.’

  As the girls disappeared inside, Dolly appeared. ‘Ooh, you’ve got the right idea, bab – I could do with a sit-down, I can tell yer.’

  Dolly plonked a chair down next to Rachel. Despite being heavily pregnant she seemed active and fit, whatever she might protest to Mo. As ever she looked lovely with her dark, glossy hair pinned back each side of her face and red lipstick. Her belly was a rounded cliff under her baggy dress with its royal-blue-and-white swirls of pattern. She descended onto the chair with an outrush of breath and leaned back.

  ‘Oh – it’s good to sit down!’

  ‘Don’t you need more on?’ Rachel said. Dolly seemed to be dressed for summer, while Rachel, who had borrowed Gladys’s shawl to wrap around her, was still shivering.

  ‘Nah – this one’s keeping me warm.’ Dolly stroked her belly. ‘Any road, I’m not such a skinny whippet as you. You need to look after yourself, Rach, you’ve got that scrawny. Hello, little feller,’ she said, leaning over Tommy. His tongue slithered out and he gave his lopsided smile.

  Dolly fished in her pocket for her ciggies and matches and lit up, taking a contented drag and blowing out the smoke. She seemed about to speak when something else caught her attention.