by Molly Green
‘Name’s Crofton Wells.’
‘Unusual,’ she murmured.
‘I’m used to it now,’ he grinned easily. ‘And you are …?’
She didn’t want to tell him her name but it would seem awfully rude if she simply ignored him, and she couldn’t think of an excuse not to. ‘Maxine … Taylor,’ she said reluctantly.
‘Maxine,’ he repeated, and it sounded special when he said it.
‘Shhhhh!’ someone near them admonished as the lights went out.
The orchestra struck up. She felt, rather than saw, Crofton Wells glance at her.
‘Are you feeling all right now?’
‘Much better, thank you,’ she whispered. ‘This is a wonderful seat.’
Then she blushed, grateful for the darkness, not wanting him to think she thought it wonderful because he was sitting next to her.
‘I’m glad you changed your ticket,’ he said softly.
A rare feeling of contentment stole round her heart and she settled back.
Disappointingly, Pearl didn’t appear again until almost the end. Then, after a rousing finale, the curtain came down, then immediately rose again to wild applause. Maxine’s hands stung with clapping. She stole a glance at Crofton Wells, who caught her looking and smiled. She smiled back, pleased to see he was clapping just as enthusiastically.
‘Did you enjoy it?’ he asked, looking at her as the lights came on.
‘Very much. This half was even better, although my cousin wasn’t in it as much as the first half.’
‘Ah, you have a cousin in the show. Who is it?’
‘Pearl Lovelace.’
‘Lovelace?’ Crofton Wells grinned broadly.
His eyes were a warm brown, reminding her of Johnny’s, though Crofton’s had amber flecks in them. She inwardly shook herself. She shouldn’t be studying him so closely – he might get the wrong impression.
‘Talking of unusual names …’
‘It’s her stage name,’ Maxine said laughing. ‘Although “Pearl” is real.’
She couldn’t help thinking what a nice man he was. The sort of man she would have liked if she hadn’t been such a fool. Her stomach turned over at the mess she was in. Who would want her now she was carrying another man’s baby? She could tell Crofton Wells liked her – maybe even found her attractive – but he’d run a mile if he knew.
‘Beautiful dress,’ he said, an appreciative twinkle in his eyes as he stood in the aisle and helped her on with her coat. ‘Seems a pity to cover it up.’
She felt the briefest touch of his fingers on her shoulders.
‘Thank you.’ She smiled as they joined the crowd towards the exit. In the foyer she held out her hand. ‘It was nice to meet you,’ she said.
‘But this isn’t the first time we’ve met,’ he said, taking her hand, and the words were so unexpected she took a step back. ‘I know it sounds like a bad pick-up line, but it’s true. I saw you on a tram once in town. It was only through the window, but it was you, wasn’t it?’
She gave a jolt of recognition. The man with the books under his arm who’d tried so hard to catch her tram. She remembered the odd feeling of disappointment as he’d receded into the distance.
‘I remember,’ she said, her face glowing, savouring the warmth of his hand, ‘though it must be a couple of years ago now. Fancy you recognising me.’ She tried to ignore the way her heart was beating a little faster than normal. ‘You looked very cross when the tram doors shut.’ She sent him a mischievous smile.
He grinned back and she noticed how his face lit up. ‘Yes, I was very annoyed. I’d promised a friend I’d go and see him in hospital and I didn’t have much time.’ Her hand was still in his and reluctantly she drew it away. ‘I had a feeling you were heading for the Infirmary as well … were you?’ She nodded. ‘In fact, when I finally got there I kept a lookout in case I saw you again,’ he chuckled.
Maxine’s eyes widened in astonishment.
Before she could reply he said, ‘Look, as we’ve ascertained we’re not strangers, would you like to have a drink somewhere?’
His words took her by surprise. She would love to, more than anything. Pretend they were a couple. Like all the other couples around her. But it was impossible. She wasn’t going to risk it. To give herself a few seconds to think, she pulled on her gloves.
‘I-I can’t,’ she stuttered. ‘I told Pearl I’d meet her afterwards.’
His face fell. Then brightened. ‘You could introduce me to your cousin. I’m sure she’ll be ready for a drink after all that singing.’
He’ll be married, of course. Another one, full of lies.
But what would be the harm? One drink and then you need never see him again. One drink to pretend you’re normal. To have a husband like other women who are going to have a baby.
Except he wasn’t her husband. And it wasn’t his baby growing inside her.
‘I’m sorry.’ She turned abruptly and felt him staring after her.
Chapter Fifteen
He hesitated. Let her go or run after her?
Stopping to think had lost him precious moments. He ran after her, but she’d disappeared into the crowd. He turned his head this way and that. She was a tall woman. He should be able to spot her. But she could be anywhere. Maybe jumped into a taxi, or a bus had just come along, or she’d nipped into one of the restaurants. Wherever she’d vanished, she’d made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t one bit interested and couldn’t wait to escape. The first time he’d set eyes on her through the tram window, even though it was only the briefest of moments, he’d been more certain than anything in his life that this was a woman he wanted to know. And now he’d spent time in her company he was even more certain. But he’d lost her for the second time.
Maxine Taylor was the first woman he’d been immediately attracted to since the divorce. Her face, not pretty in the classical sense, yet there was something even more lovely about her. The look of sadness in her beautiful turquoise eyes. Her mouth was made to smile, but he didn’t think she did much of that lately. She’d told him nothing about herself, only her name. And that might not be real. She’d even admitted her cousin’s name ‘Lovelace’ wasn’t.
Worst of all, as she was putting on her gloves, he’d noticed a shiny gold band on her wedding ring finger.
Just his luck.
He sighed. He’d feel better when he was back at the camp with a cigarette and a glass of whisky in his hand.
She’d planned to find Pearl after the show. Congratulate her. But all she could think of was to get out of the theatre as fast as possible. What a fool she’d been.
In bed that night her mind whirled. She realised it was hopeless, thinking she could have just one evening out amongst people and forget. Pretend she was the same as everyone. It would get her into trouble if she talked to strangers, joined in conversations … Someone was bound to discover her secret. Tell her parents. The realisation swept over her once again of how easy it would be for them to find out. Her mother would never forgive her.
She couldn’t get comfortable. Pearl’s little put-up bed was narrow and hard, though she hadn’t noticed it until tonight.
Her head throbbed. Only Pearl. No one else must know. Without warning, the image of Crofton Wells flashed in front of her. She had to admit she would like to have got to know him a little more. Funny how they’d been aware of one another all that time ago through a tram window. His brown eyes, warm with concern. So different from the uncaring grey eyes of Edwin Blake. Tears poured down her face and she angrily brushed them away. She plumped up her pillow and turned over to block him out, but the pillow was still not enough to muffle her sobs.
She heard the front door open and slam shut. Footsteps on the stairs. Pearl called out her name. Her door opened and Pearl’s head poked round.
‘Are you still awake, Max?’
‘Yes. Come in. I was hoping you’d be back before I went to sleep.’ Maxine sniffed and felt for her handkerchief underneath her
pillow.
‘What’s wrong?’ Pearl’s smile faded as she looked at Maxine’s wet cheeks. ‘You’ve been crying. Was I really that bad?’
‘No, of course not,’ Maxine smiled weakly. ‘You were marvellous. You lit up the stage and your voice carried right up to the second-floor balcony.’
Pearl’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t have the best seat,’ she said, sitting on the edge of Maxine’s bed and unclipping her earrings. ‘Oh, that’s better. They were killing me.’ She threw a glance at Maxine. ‘Did you really enjoy it?’
‘I really enjoyed it,’ Maxine said truthfully, on the brink of telling her about Crofton Wells.
‘Then what happened? Why were you crying when I came in just now?’
‘Because … because …’ How could she explain to Pearl?
‘You had a nice evening and then everything came rushing back to you when you came into an empty flat. Is that it?’
Maxine nodded. Pearl had been unexpectedly intuitive and she felt closer to her cousin at that moment than she had since they were children.
‘You know,’ Pearl said, shifting herself closer and taking Maxine’s hand, ‘I do understand.’ She said the words so quietly that Maxine had to strain to hear them. ‘More than you might think,’ Pearl added.
‘What do you mean?’
‘No one in the world knows this,’ Pearl whispered. ‘But I had an abortion two years ago.’
Maxine’s hand flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide. ‘Oh, Pearl. It’s illegal. How did you—?’
‘Somebody, a friend of a friend recommended. But it was a botched job and I thought I was going to die. It was terrible. The baby’s father scarpered. He was a rotter. I knew it, but I’d had a bit too much to drink that night and ended up … well, I don’t have to tell you the gory details.’
Maxine was numb with shock.
‘Pearl, I had no idea—’
‘No one did. That was the whole point. Can you imagine my dad? He’d have turned me out of the house. And Mam wouldn’t have been able to stand up to him. That’s why I had to get out – get a place of my own before I showed.’
‘I wish I’d known. I would’ve helped you.’ She looked at her cousin. ‘Did you have anyone?’
‘Yes, one of the girls at Woolies. I kept being sick and she guessed what was the matter. Luckily she had a couple of rooms in a boarding house and offered me a roof. She looked after me.’ Pearl gave Maxine an unwavering look. ‘I owe dear Jean my life.’
‘I’m so lucky to have you,’ Maxine said, her voice trembling with emotion.
‘And I’m glad you’re here and that I can help,’ Pearl said simply. Then she grinned. ‘But you’d better make the most of it. I’m off the day after tomorrow and won’t see you for a whole month. So you’d better be good.’
Maxine swallowed. She hadn’t realised Pearl would be on tour for such a long time with her new show. There was no point in telling Pearl about her meeting with Crofton Wells after all.
Maxine needed to make some plans. Make an appointment at one of the maternity hospitals to see a doctor to check that everything was all right, and to confirm she would be able to have the baby there. At least Johnny’s wedding ring would save her from one of the Salvation Army homes for unmarried mothers, or worse, The House for Fallen Women. But she’d have to tell another lie at the hospital – that her husband had only recently died. Thank goodness her mother rarely went into town, her father never, and Liverpool was a large enough city to swallow her up.
But it was February and she was starting to show. She could wear loose clothing for a couple of months more, but in her last two months she’d have to remain a prisoner in Pearl’s flat. And if Pearl was away during that time she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to cope.
She also needed to change her ration book to a green one for pregnant women. It would allow her extra fruit and eggs and a free full pint of milk a day, and cod liver oil and orange juice. Her cousin, thinner these days, would appreciate some extra rations when she came home.
Maxine sent a letter to the Liverpool Maternity Hospital in Oxford Street and within three days she had a reply telling her to report to Dr Hall the following Friday for an examination.
‘All is well,’ he said after an interminable examination. ‘We’d better put you down for 20th June.’
Maxine managed to hold her job until the middle of March when she couldn’t disguise her pregnancy any longer. At first Betty had remarked that Maxine was putting on the pudding, as she called it, but when March turned to April Betty remarked, ‘If I didn’t know you, I’d say you were up the duff, my girl. But if you are, you’re keeping the father very quiet.’
Maxine immediately flushed. ‘It’s all that Guinness you keep making me drink.’
Betty gave her a narrowed gaze. ‘Hmm.’
She didn’t say more, but Maxine knew she couldn’t carry on. She was always terrified that someone she knew would come in and go straight to her parents. But even that terror diminished when she thought of another person who might stride in at any moment. A tall man with dark brown hair and twinkling eyes who would look aghast when he saw her protruding stomach.
It was time to give in her notice. Graham Grant didn’t try to persuade her to stay and Maxine thought it likely he’d guessed her condition. Smarting with embarrassment, she muttered goodbye to Betty and George and escaped as quickly as she could to the relative privacy of Pearl’s flat – her life for the next few months. Relying on Pearl who was away half the time. All her own stupid doing. But there was no going back.
The thought of having to lie to her parents made Maxine’s cheeks flood red with shame. In the end she wrote to them saying she’d taken a few weeks’ leave from the hospital because tending to patients with such terrible injuries day after day was making her a nervous wreck. She was staying with her cousin for a rest but planned to go back to nursing as soon as she felt strong enough.
She wasn’t surprised to receive a letter of deep disappointment from her mother, but her father had scribbled a few lines on the end and told her not to worry, and to get better soon and come and see them. If only she could, but she was getting heavier by the week and only went out now to the small parade of shops nearby for essentials. She was desperately lonely, but she tried to keep busy by sewing nightdresses and blankets for the baby out of an old sheet and moth-eaten blanket of Pearl’s as she listened to the latest news on the wireless. Trying to get food down was a torment. She had to eat sensibly for the baby’s sake, even though she often thought she would choke. And when she couldn’t stand life trapped in Pearl’s rooms any longer, the baby would give a kick as though to tell her to buck up. That she’d get through it.
It was worse than she could possibly have imagined.
‘Pull your knees up. Breathe slowly. Don’t fight the pain. Push.’
A woman barked out orders, but Maxine kept getting muddled and forgot which instruction she should be following. If only Pearl hadn’t been away again. She’d never felt so alone.
A whole night rolled by. Maxine tossed and turned, the mound of her stomach making it almost impossible to get comfortable. She heard screams. Some other poor woman close by – until she realised it was herself.
When she felt she could bear the pain no longer she was faintly aware of someone who took her hand.
‘Doctor Williams here. You’re doing very well. The head is almost through. Try to push hard next time the pain comes.’
The pain’s never gone, she felt like yelling back.
But she did as she was told and pushed as though her life depended on it, and less than a minute later Edward Taylor came rushing into the world with his mother’s last effort.
‘It’s a boy!’
She’d known all along the baby would be a boy. She’d never imagined him otherwise.
The sound of a smack. A thin wail. And then as though the baby had gathered every shred of energy, came loud crying.
‘He
’s got a good pair of lungs,’ the midwife remarked as she wrapped him in a sheet. ‘I’ll take him to be cleaned up and then you can see him properly.’ She disappeared with the baby before Maxine could beg her to stay.
But I wanted to see him now. See who he looks like. She folded her hands together as though in prayer. Please don’t let him look like Edwin.
She broke down in sobs.
‘What’s the matter, young lady?’ Dr Williams said. ‘It’s all over. You have a fine baby boy. We must let your husband know.’
‘He’s dead.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Dr Williams said, his eyes sympathetic. ‘Happens all the time. Trouble is, there’ll be thousands of poor little buggers – excuse my French – that their fathers will never set eyes on. But at least he’ll be a comfort to you. Remind you of your husband.’
She managed to stop herself from retching by clawing at her handkerchief and practically stuffing it into her mouth. Under her eyelids she noticed Dr Williams regarding her with suspicion. He opened his mouth to say something but must have thought better of it, as he merely said, ‘I’ll be round to check on you tomorrow morning.’
‘You’ll be ready for a nice cuppa, love, I’m sure,’ said a short dumpy woman in a pink overall wheeling a tea trolley towards her.
‘I believe I am.’ Maxine smiled weakly as the woman poured her a cup and popped two lumps of sugar in without asking before she handed it to her.
‘Thank you, Mrs—’
‘Call me Doreen, dear. Everyone does.’ She gave Maxine a gummy grin. ‘I’m here most days. The mums are always pleased to see me as they say I make a better cup of tea than the nurses.’ She let out a peal of laughter which jarred Maxine’s ears, the sound was so incongruous amongst all the groans of pain and screams of babies.
Doreen bustled away, still chuckling.
When the midwife returned with her baby swaddled in a shawl, Maxine noticed his hair was exactly the same dark auburn as his father’s – and he looked the image of him. She swallowed the tears. There was no denying that he was the son of Mr Edwin Blake. The baby opened his mouth and howled.
