‘What happens if they’re not . . . not still living?’ His voice croaked with emotion as he spoke the unspeakable words.
‘They’ll still have to come out naturally. I can’t do anything at present. Not till we know for sure one way or the other.’
Archie found he was shaking. He couldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t even face going back into the bedroom. He’d give this dreadful news away, he just knew it. The midwife went back in to her patient and instructed her to stay in bed. He saw the little wiry lady out, and went into the kitchen to Mary.
‘It’s bad news, isn’t it?’
‘I think it could be. I don’t know how she’ll cope. After all this time. All the waiting. All the wanting.’ Suddenly, he could no longer hold back the tears. He knew men shouldn’t cry but this time, he simply couldn’t stop it. Mary put her arms round him and held him close. She was such a comfort. Her fine hair tickled him under the chin and her ample bosom was soft and comforting against him.
‘I love her so much,’ he sobbed.
‘Course you do, love. But it’s the babies you might lose, not her.’
‘How do I know? Maybe she’s damaged herself too much.’
‘She’ll pull through. Got a lot of strength, that one. You’ll see. Now, how about a nice cuppa?’
‘I s’pose so.’
‘You can take one up to Dora. She’ll be needing something to perk her up.’
‘It’ll take more than tea this time.’
Because Archie was starting his new job, he felt obliged to leave his wife in her mother’s care. There was no alternative but he felt terrible about it.
‘I’m so sorry to be leaving you, love,’ he said, emotion practically choking his words. ‘Your Mum’s promised to get word to me somehow, if you need me.’
‘It’s all right, love. You go on. Show ’em what you’re made of. Good luck.’ He kissed her forehead and left her, certain it could only be a matter of time before she realised her precious babies were no longer moving inside her womb.
‘I think the babies are dead,’ she whispered to Archie, a couple of days later. ‘I haven’t felt them kick or even move at all for ages.’
‘I know, love,’ he replied sadly. ‘The midwife said she thought so. But you’re going to be all right. That’s the main thing.’
‘But I so wanted these babies. Or even just one of them. What did I do that was so wrong?’ There was nothing to do but wait.
In early December, rumours were beginning to circulate that things were not right in royal circles. The new king, Edward the Eighth, was planning to marry the divorcee, Mrs Simpson. When the news finally broke that he was to abdicate in favour of his brother, Mary’s indignation knew no bounds.
‘How can he do it? Give up everything just like that? What about his duty? To all of us? It simply doesn’t seem right to me. I reckon he should just keep seeing her in private. I mean, all the kings have always done it haven’t they?’
From the mild mannered, rather straight laced Mary, it came as a shock to all of them.
‘I think it’s rather brave of him, and so terribly romantic,’ Dora announced. ‘Fancy loving someone so much that you’d give up being king for her.’
‘I’ve never taken much interest in royalty,’ Archie said. ‘Except of course, it means we shall have to bring out a new range of commemoration ware. In fact, we’ve already got a few plates ready for the coronation next year. Maybe they’ll become collector’s items.’
‘Dumped in the dustbin, more likely,’ Dora suggested.
‘All the same, we should get in first with the changes. Won’t hurt to get a few ideas on paper.’ The women continued to speculate while Archie was busily planning new designs for the rest of the evening.
‘At least the Duke of York’s decently married. Elizabeth is quite good-looking enough to be a queen, I suppose.’
‘Mum, you’re such a snob at heart,’ smiled Dora. Archie saw the flicker of light on her face and felt better. Poor Dora. Nothing seemed to interest her much these days.
‘She’s the snob. Pretty but very sort of condescending. Still, if you’ve got money like that and look like being a queen, I suppose you’ve got a right to be a bit snobbish. Wonder if she ever does the dishes? You sit still, love. Keep your feet up. I’ll do the dishes on my own. Won’t take long. I did the pots before we sat down.’
‘At least the new king smokes, so they say. Like a chimney.’
‘Shows it can’t be all bad, then doesn’t it?’ Archie said, lighting another cigarette. ‘Want one, love?’ Dora nodded and he passed one to her.
‘I may be losing my taste for smoking,’ she said rather miserably. ‘I seem to be feeling sick such a lot of the time.’
The days dragged on, Dora remained in her bed most days, still feeling extremely ill. It was two days before she went into hospital. The midwife had decided that there really was no hope for the babies and it was beyond her abilities to do anything in the home. She was given a dose of castor oil, making her retch and feel even worse. When Dora felt the first grinding spasms that heralded the labour pains, she was in a ward with a number of other women who were either giving birth, awaiting a birth or who had already delivered. Knowing there would be no baby to love at the end of it all made the pains so much worse to the point of being unbearable. The tiny boy and girl were delivered stillborn during the afternoon. By the time Archie visited after work, it was all over. Mercifully, it had been a short labour and Dora was now heavily drugged to give her the rest she badly needed.
‘How was work?’ she whispered to Archie.
‘Sod work. How are you?’
‘Tell me about work. I can’t bear to think of anything else.’
He tried to talk about the comings and goings of his day but there was a great wedge of cotton wool stuffing the back of his throat, preventing him from speaking. As soon as he saw her sleeping, he went in search of the doctor.
‘How is she?’ he demanded to know. ‘How is she really?’
‘She’ll survive, all right. Physically that is. I’m not sure how bad mentally she is scarred. The babies obviously meant a great deal to her.’
‘We can always have another one though, can’t we?’
‘I’m sorry but it is not advisable. There was some damage to her womb and possibly the ovaries too. There could be problems with conception and even if that part was successful, I cannot guarantee that she would be able to carry to full-term.’
‘I always knew having babies was a bad idea. But she wanted one so much. It’s just not fair is it? Her sister’s got two already and never had a spot of bother. Didn’t even want them much, from what I can make out. And she’s expecting again. It isn’t fair, is it? I’m sorry doctor. I just don’t know how I’m ever going to tell her.’ He still held the memory of the way he’d felt the night he’d learned about his scholarship place and his parents had told him it was impossible. Well, he’d managed it, if only for a few months. But he’d done it. P’raps this doctor was wrong. P’raps they might be able to have another child some day. He hoped and prayed that Dora wouldn’t want to find out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘I can’t face going back to that house,’ Dora said unexpectedly the next evening when Archie visited the hospital. ‘In fact, I don’t think I ever want to see it again.’
‘But I thought you loved the house,’ he protested.
‘I did once. But now, I know it’s the bad luck that’s been haunting us ever since we moved in.’
‘You’re being silly, love. The house hasn’t got anything to do with it.’
‘I can’t live there. Every time I go into that room I shall remember. That’s where our children were conceived and where they died. Please, Archie. Can we make a new start? I’m sure Mum and Dad will understand.’
How could he refuse her? All their hopes and dreams. His precious big house he’d always wanted. What was any of that compared to Dora?
‘I’ll see what they have to sa
y.’
‘This won’t make a difference to us, Archie, will it? We will try for another baby, won’t we? Just as soon as I’m better.’
It was with a heavy heart that Archie went back to his beloved house that night. He didn’t know what he was going to say to the wonderfully kind couple who had done everything they could to help them get the place. He broke the news to them.
‘I think it’ll be for the best,’ Mary said surprisingly. ‘We hadn’t told you, what with everything going on, but Henry’s being transferred to another branch. He’s got to work in Newcastle after next month. It’s a heck of a journey from here. I think it would be sensible to try and move nearer there for him.’
‘Really?’ Archie was confused. ‘But I thought you enjoyed this place as much as we do?’
‘Oh, it isn’t really us, all this fancy stuff, is it, love?’ she said to her husband.
‘Bit too modern for us. I think we might like to move to something a bit less grand. Something a bit more traditional. There’s always a place for you, though. Whatever happens, you won’t be short of a place to stay.’
‘Thanks, both of you. You’re the best parents anyone ever had. I can’t pretend it’s not a set back but we’ll all come through it won’t we? Trouble is, I’m not sure how Dora’s going to take the news that she might not have another chance to have a kid. I can cope easy enough, but I don’t think she will.’
‘She always has wanted children. Used to love playing with her dolls when she was little. Now our Margaret, she couldn’t be bothered with them at all. All she wanted to do was play at dressing up. She’s got two kids already and we think there’s probably another in the pipeline, if you get my meaning. Even said she was expecting at that party but it turned out to be a false alarm. Ironic really, isn’t it?’
‘That’s pretty much what I said to the doctor. You know, you’ve made me feel much better. Thanks again. How do you think we set about finding somewhere else to live?’
‘I’m going into town tomorrow. And I’ll see if there’s anything in the paper. And you’d better organise a “for sale” sign for here, Harry. Sooner it’s on the market, sooner it can be settled.’
Archie climbed the two sets of stairs to the flat roof terrace. The wind was blowing and he shivered. When they’d held their house warming party, some of the guests had come up here. There had been other occasions when they’d entertained up here, high above the six towns. There was a view right over the Potteries. He could see the fat kilns dotted round the landscape, looking like huge bottles dumped as leftovers from a giant’s party. The pall of smoke hung over everywhere, looking as if the same giants had over-indulged in smoking their pipes. It was no place to bring up a child down there at the bottom of the hill. No clean fresh air anywhere. But his dream was solid. Smoke or no, pottery and the Potteries was the only place his future could be satisfied. He punched his hands together. He promised himself he would get an even better house one day and that one would really be in the country, away from the smoke. He sighed gently and went to their room. He lay in the big double bed with his hand over the place where Dora should be. What did anything matter as long as she came back where she belonged? Their life together would be everything it should be, no matter where they were.
When Dora was ready to leave hospital, they arranged for her to go and stay with her two maiden Aunts for awhile. They were both nurses of sorts, health visitors in a different part of the Potteries, and would take care of her while the family arranged the move. As Archie was now driving the car, it was decided to favour Henry’s place of work for finding a house. They looked at a semi-detached house in Hartshill. It was still one of the slightly posher ends of the Potteries, high above the smoke that bellowed from the chimneys and kilns. Several of the managers from the larger companies had homes built in the area. It was an easy bike ride for Harry to reach his work and if Dora ever felt like going back to work, within easy reach for her, too. It was slightly further for Archie but having the car made that of little consequence.
The house, named Branksome after their honeymoon place, received several offers, all well above what they’d paid for it. All the same, the price they had to pay for the new house left them with very little spare cash. Because they were in rather a hurry, they didn’t wait for the best offer and accepted a cash deal. For Archie none of this mattered compared to getting his Dora back home. Christmas never really existed that year, but they managed a token celebration when they had moved.
‘Thanks, love. Thank you all of you,’ she said with heartfelt gratitude when they all sat down for their first meal together in the new home. ‘I don’t quite know how you managed it so quickly but I’m very grateful.’ She burst into tears and sobbed against Archie’s shoulder.
‘Do you good to get it out of your system,’ Mary said comfortingly.
‘But I so wanted my babies. Poor little things. They never had a chance. And a boy and a girl. Just what I always wanted. We can try for another, can’t we, Archie?’
Mary and Harry looked embarrassed. It wasn’t the sort of thing any married couple talked about at the meal table. Archie saw their faces and gave his wife another hug.
‘Come on now, love. You have to get your strength back. We can talk about the future later.’
‘But . . . Oh all right. I haven’t asked about you. You haven’t told me what the new job’s like. How’re you getting on?’
‘It’s going well enough. It’s much cleaner than Draper’s. We’ve got one of these new electric kilns. Makes so much difference. Just for the decorated ware, you know. They’re considering a tunnel kiln for the rest. Amazing really. The ware goes on stacking trolleys and gets fed through the tunnel in a continuous motion, firing the ware the whole time. And Leslie’s invested in a heck of a lot of machinery. Some of the lines are made completely by the machine. All the operator has to do is to put the clay in the right place. The machine presses it out into the shape and drops it down onto the belt. Then someone waits at the other end for the pots to come off. Amazing it is.’ They were all smiling at his enthusiasm. He stopped and looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry. I am going on a bit aren’t I?’
‘I’m interested. But tell me, all this automation, doesn’t that mean a lot less jobs?’ asked Harry.
‘I suppose so. There are still the women to put handles on cups and so on. But they still have to be fired and decorated. That’s the really time consuming work. Where the skill is.’
‘You would say that. That’s your end of the job.’
‘I know, but I still think it’s the way to go for the future. Keep the actual straightforward lines mechanised and let the skill show in making the more decorative stuff.’
‘I hope it works out for you, lad.’
‘Thanks. All of you.’
‘I like your enthusiasm, Archie,’ Harry said, touching his shoulder.
‘Do you think Dora’s got over the idea of having another baby?’ he asked later when Dora had gone up to bed.
‘I doubt it, lad. She’s always wanted one of her own. You’ll just have to accept that it’s still her biggest ambition.’
‘Oh dear. I see more trouble ahead.’
‘Have you let your parents know about all the changes? You know, in the situation at home?’
Archie reddened. He’d never given his own family a thought.
‘I s’pose I’d better go over and see them. They haven’t even got the new address. I’d better go over tomorrow night, after work. If that’s all right with you. I s’pose I should have let them know.’
‘Always knew she wouldn’t be much good to you,’ Frances told Archie the following night when he broke the sad news. ‘If you’d let us know you were coming I’d have got summat in for your tea.’ He glared at her words but held his tongue. He didn’t want to antagonise his mother any further.’ Frances still managed to ask any number of difficult questions about Dora and their future plans. Archie still dreaded the prospect of his wife having another baby. He tr
ied to fob his mother off by saying they were waiting to see the doctor before they knew if it was possible to have another child.
‘There’s plenty of kids around looking for a good home,’ Frances said. ‘Saves all the nastiness with trying to have your own. Specially if . . . well you know. That Mrs Savage in the next street for a start. She’s just had her ninth and they haven’t got two halfpennies to rub together. Funny how some folks can drop them like hens laying eggs and others can’t even manage one.’
‘Yes, well we’ll have to wait and see.’ Her words dug deep into Archie’s heart.
‘I could have a word with Mrs Savage. Dare say she’d be grateful if someone took their latest off their hands’. Archie shook his head in disbelief. He could just imagine what it would do to Dora to offer her a ready made baby at this stage.
After an hour, Archie was longing to get away. His mother made him feel almost guilty for having proved her wrong about his future. He may have taken a step backwards in his personal plans but he knew he was still determined he was going to succeed in his life as a producer of quality china.
He arrived home weary and hungry. Dora was resting in her bed. Mary had kept something hot for him, guessing that his own mother would never have food to give him. She knew the type. Selfish and always discontented with her lot. He told his mother-in-law about the visit and the difficult task of breaking the sad news. He also remembered, at the last minute, to tell her that he’d invited his brother over, the following Sunday. She seemed pleased and rested her hand on his shoulder as she spoke. Never had he experienced anyone outside this family having such gentle, physical, contact with another human.
William’s visit was a great success. Archie realised it was one of the few times he’d seen his brother away from their home and parents. They found themselves laughing and joking together for probably the first time in their lives. They even did a bit of gardening, under the strict eye of Harry. When they went in for tea, William flirted shamelessly with Dora, asking if she was sick of his brother yet. When she was, he told her, he would be more than happy to take over. Mary smiled at the lad.
Rough Clay Page 17
