Nell rose to the provocation. ‘That’s why I’m going! Because no one here can understand what it’s like to have this raw bloody hole inside me!’
‘It’ll be forever raw if you keep picking at it!’
‘See?’ retorted Nell. ‘Only a real mother would understand – so maybe I’ll go and find her!’
Thelma looked devastated – and angry. ‘You stand there with your false heroics as if no one else has ever gone through the mill …’ The look on her ashen face revealed that she had said too much, but it was too late now. ‘I’ll save you the trouble of searching for your real mother. You’re looking at her. The one who sat up with you all night tending your childhood illnesses, the one who cooked and cleaned and cared for you for twenty years – and the one who gave birth to you. So don’t you dare lecture me on what a real mother is.’
Nell felt close to fainting, her lips forming the questions that her voice was unable to utter. She flopped onto the edge of the bed, as Thelma condemned her.
‘See what chain of events you’ve started with your bloody-minded behaviour? You’ve pushed me into something I’d rather have kept private, and now I’ll have to relive it all. I’ll be lucky if your father doesn’t throw me out.’ Having obviously to drag it from herself, she related the tale, nipping at the skin of her cuticles as she picked over the past. ‘It was true about you being adopted. But your father was the only one of us to adopt. It was he who decided you should never know about me – you’re not to breathe a word to him that I’ve told you this. I won’t have him upset.’
Upset? marvelled Nell. But throttled by shock, she could only attend.
‘We’d both been so desperate to have a family for a long, long time,’ rushed Thelma, eager to get this over with in case her husband should intrude. ‘Your father thought that I was to blame for there being no children, and things got a bit … overwrought. Anyway, he had to go into hospital. Whilst he was away, I made a very stupid mistake. I had a fling with a complete stranger. It was only the once and I never saw him again. And then I found out that I wasn’t barren at all.’ She gave a deep sigh and gazed into mid-air. ‘I’ll never forget your father’s face when I had to tell him. He’d been in hospital for three months, so he knew you couldn’t be his … Anyway, I don’t want to go into all that. To cut a long story short, he forgave me, because he knew this was his only chance of having a family too, and we made arrangements that we should go away before anyone found out I was having you. It wasn’t that difficult because we were living in rented accommodation at the time. We made up a story about your father having to convalesce, which wasn’t far from the truth. We couldn’t pass you off as our own because the relatives were aware how long he’d been laid up, and I’d have been ostracised – you must promise never to breathe a word to them,’ she broke off to instruct Nell, who was so totally sandbagged that she could not have breathed a word if she had tried. But inside her head she was screaming, I don’t understand! How could you? Why when how?
Thelma made a speedy return to her theme. ‘They all knew how much we wanted children, of course. So, when we made up this story about discovering the perfect child in an orphanage, they accepted it without question.’ She interjected a bitter laugh. ‘The perfect child! Little did we know what you’d put us through …’
Nell remained speechless, but her mind leapt from thought to thought, like a mountain goat scaling the peaks, higher and higher, towards the zenith of hysteria. All those years of being led to believe that twaddle, having it drummed into her about how she had been chosen from hundreds of other babies, being made to feel a failure and a pariah for doing exactly the same as her mother had done – her whole life a total lie! At last she managed to gasp only one of the many things that ran amok through her brain: ‘How could you force me to give up my baby after you’d contrived to keep your own?’
‘You can’t possibly compare the two situations!’ Thelma was quick to defend herself. ‘I was a mature woman with a husband willing to forgive me, and both of us with no other chance of having a family. You were barely more than a schoolgirl, even now. I was suitably ashamed into doing the decent thing by going away to give birth, and not bringing the whole family into disrepute. You left it until the last minute – it’s a miracle no one found out, and only then thanks to our efforts!’ Despite her strenuous justification, she looked torn. ‘Perhaps if you’d come to me earlier about your condition I might have been more sympathetic, but there was no one to marry you, and you set us all into a panic, what else was I supposed to do? I’m only telling you now because I’m sick of the way you’ve been treating me. Sick of women looking down their noses and regarding me as a second-class mother because I couldn’t have children, sick of being forced to pretend when you really were mine …
‘Eleanor,’ she sat on the bed alongside her daughter and implored her, ‘try and keep a grip of what I said before, that you’ll have more children one day, when you’re older and with the right person. I do know how much it must hurt you. Having to pretend all these years that I’m not your real mother, it’s been agony sometimes. But please, please believe that everything was done for the best, and not, as you seem to think, to spite you. You’ll only destroy yourself with such thoughts …’ Having laid out her case, Thelma sat back, hands in lap as if she were posing for a photograph.
In a trice, Nell rose and, with her mother tripping after her, hefted her luggage down the stairs, grabbing her gasmask container when she reached the hall. Only then did she stop dead to glare into the dining room. Her father had not moved from the table. Nell stood for a few seconds more, to cast contempt for his share in the duplicity. Then she caught the look of terror on her mother’s face; and, in a wave of sickness, moved on.
Half-relieved that her daughter was intent on going, Thelma pounced on her handbag and handed something over. ‘I suppose you’ll need these then …’
Nell barely glanced at her mother as she took possession of her ration books, just thanked her and left.
Her mother might judge it a hasty decision, but it was not really. It took only a moment’s thought for Nell to gain direction, to the one place she would be assured hospitality. It was already crammed with lodgers, most of them soldiers, but with herself on night shift much of the week, being asleep through the day whilst they were out on manoeuvres, and vice versa on a night, no one should be inconvenienced. This being so, she went now to throw herself on the mercy of Ma and Georgie Precious, in the hope that in this happily chaotic household she would find some release. But every nerve end tingled with the things she had just learned.
As expected, the Preciouses were delighted to accommodate her snap arrival that evening, and to accept her explanation that she had fallen out with her parents over something irrelevant, not minding a jot that she dumped her luggage in the hall and in the same turn prepared to rush off to work. Their only complaint was that they had not seen her for such a long time.
‘We thought we’d done something wrong!’ bawled Ma, legs astride. ‘It must be over a year – by, how you’ve altered!’ Brawny arms folded beneath her large flowered promontory, she turned to her husband. ‘Hasn’t she altered, Georgie?’
‘Still as bonny as ever, though!’ The smiling old man danced forth to cup Nell’s face. ‘In fact, even more so.’ He cocked his head, trying to fathom what was so different about their young visitor.
‘I don’t suppose there’ve been any more letters from Bill’s mother?’ tendered Nell. Georgie shook his head, and looked momentarily sad, obviously thinking the same as Nell that perhaps Mrs Kelly had been killed too.
‘Well, even if there was, she’d grow bored awaiting your reply!’ declared Ma, and wanted to know, ‘What made you stop away for so long?’
‘Oh … just work really.’ A smiling Nell could not tell them about her baby. ‘In fact I’ll have to go there now. Is it all right if I settle up with you as soon as I get my pay?’ A good thing she had not yet handed this to her mother. ‘You can
have my food ration book now, though – I’m really sorry to inconvenience you like this.’
‘Behave!’ Ma used the ration book to deal Nell a vigorous thwack. ‘We’ll put you up as long as you like – eh up, here’s our lads off out on the prowl!’ A rowdy group of soldiers had appeared from the sitting room and made for the exit. ‘Come and meet our new lodger, boys!’
The soldiers descended with an appreciative whoop. Though desperate to get away, Nell endured all the introductions, perking up a little when one of them said, ‘Fancy a ciggy, Nurse?’
‘Ooh, yes please! May I save it for later?’
‘’Course you can,’ grinned the donor, and, ‘’Ere, have another for luck!’
‘Thanks, you’re a brick.’ Nell looked on warmly as the squaddies made their boisterous exit, leaving the door wide open behind them, there being no need for precautionary measures tonight with the sun not even set. ‘I must be on my way too.’
‘Hang on!’ Ma had seen another of her residents coming down the stairs. ‘You’ve met Nell, haven’t you, Mr Yarker? She’s coming to live with us.’
‘My cup runneth over,’ came the well-spoken utterance from the lugubrious middle-aged man, who, with barely a glance at Nell, made splenetic enquiry as to the soldiers. ‘Is that rabble gone from the sitting room?’
‘Yes, it’s all yours,’ trumpeted Ma.
‘Thank God! Perhaps before I go out fire-watching I can enjoy a page of my newspaper without the liability of being speared to death.’ The soldiers had erected a dartboard, and were apparently careless with their aim. ‘Allardyce!’ he called up the stairs. ‘You can come out now, the Zulus have gone – take some advice, my dear,’ he tapped Nell with the rolled-up chronicle, ‘stay well clear of this madhouse.’
‘Eh, don’t you be slandering my accommodation, you cheeky monkey!’ joshed Ma, threatening to hit him, then turning immediately to Nell and saying, ‘There’s a nice quiet room right at the top – will you come and see it now – Georgie, show her up!’
‘No, I really must get to work!’ pleaded Nell with a laugh, aware that Mr Yarker’s testy performance was a façade, and that he was really a good man and an heroic veteran of the Great War to boot. ‘I’m sure, it’ll be perfect – see you tomorrow morning!’ And with that she dashed off into the chilly evening.
On her way along the main corridor of the Infirmary, she was to meet a furtive-looking Cissie Flowerdew. Of too low an intellect to bear a grudge over the incident in the nursery, Cissie offered an ingratiating beam, but Nell was too intent on seeking out a more intelligent ear for her own troubles to issue anything other than a smiling word in passing.
After hearing what had happened since she and her friend had last seen each other that morning, a kindly Beata sought to lighten Nell’s burden. ‘And here’s me thinking I was hard done by, having to wear a brassiere fashioned out of muslin.’ She made wriggling adjustment of her large bust in its homemade garment, a product of the austerity controls. ‘I feel as if my bosoms should be on the cheese counter at the Maypole.’
Nell could not help but utter a grateful laugh. Still, she was in turmoil, as the other could tell.
‘I know it’s a shock, but try putting a different skew on it,’ urged Beata. ‘At least you’ve been given a sense of identity – she’s your real mother, that’s one thing you won’t have to wonder about any more.’
This did not mend things for Nell, who had always imagined her real mother as a special, rather tragic figure. Today she had been revealed as someone ordinary, and a liar. Anyway, that was secondary to Thelma’s real crime.
But with insufficient time to discuss this further, she gave a nod of thanks to her friend and they broke apart. Off both went to take instructions from the day staff, before proceeding with their usual round of duties, these being quite laborious at first, and so removing Nell’s mind from her tribulations. Whilst others her age might be out on the town, dancing with the glamorous GIs, she set to tending her elderly charges, all of whom must have their temperatures and pulses taken, be provided with bedpans and bottles – which must also be cleaned – a report filled out on each patient, and on top of countless other tasks to be undertaken before Nell could snatch a breather, there were churns of night-time beverage to be hauled from the kitchens. Still, work did make the hours fly, and before she knew it her watch told it was after two a.m.
All the same, she must remain vigilant towards those who slumbered. The blinds now drawn against a moonlit night, Nell moved purposefully through the dark from bed to bed with her hurricane lamp, listening for changes in her patients’ breathing, making sure that those with heart and chest conditions were securely propped with pillows and had not slumped down in their beds. Lingering briefly to gaze upon one of the permanent residents, she allowed her mind to blur, to anguish over questions that were only just now arising, such as the identity of her natural father – for surely he could not be the nameless entity her mother would have her believe? Had it truly been only the once that she had gone with him? To be conceived in such a way was appalling. Had Grandma known? Dear Granny, who had always treated Nell as no different to her other grandchildren; had she seen a likeness in her and guessed the truth? Her sense of existence exposed as a sham, a legion of other questions nipped at her heels. When the dust had died down, she must go back and compel her mother to reveal more.
The patient stirred, Nell’s gaze regaining instant focus, and thereto she enjoyed a moment of tender reflection. A long-time favourite, Connie Wood was more like an angelic child than a seventy-five-year-old lady, only three foot six of her, with tiny hands and feet, slumbering peacefully in the beribboned bed-jacket that Nell had knitted her for Christmas, wisps of remarkably shiny brown hair about her pink cheeks, abandoned at two days old by her mother, who had used the workhouse as a dropping place then simply moved on. How could she? thought Nell. Then, and how could you?
One year old, almost to the hour.
Brushing aside the wave of guilt and agony at having given William up, with a last fond look at Connie, she moved on, and on again, to ensure that all were equally at ease. Only after ensuring that her own charges were comfortable did she take a brief diversion from her patrol, going along to the male ward to ask if her friend Beata would like a cup of tea, and in doing so answering the summons to assist with Mr Brown.
There was no brute strength involved in rolling aside the frail old man who had recently been admitted, though much care and tenderness, for he had arrived suffering from a huge pressure sore that constantly roused him from sleep and meant he had to be regularly turned. Nell winced in sympathy, her firm but sensitive hands holding the patient to one side, whilst her friend attended his sore.
‘I’m sorry about having to hurt you, Mr Brown.’ She murmured reassurance to the aged soul as she bent over him.
‘Don’t say Brown, say Hovis!’ came the jaunty request.
Nell chuckled, though she had heard this many times since he had come in. ‘You’re very brave. It must send you through the roof, but we’ll soon have it better for you.’
‘I know you will, love,’ came the stoical reply. ‘You’re grand lasses.’ And he promptly emphasised his gratitude with a squeeze of Nell’s conveniently placed breast. Startled, but not unduly repelled, for she had come to accept that such gropings were part of the job, she displaced his hand with a stern rebuke. ‘That is not an acceptable way to take one’s mind off one’s pain, Mr Brown.’ And Beata was also to be censured. ‘Now I see why Nurse Kilmaster wanted me to be at this end.’
To the accompaniment of Beata’s wheezy chortling, the old man’s ordeal was finally brought to an end, and the nurses were trying to further decrease his suffering with strategically placed pillows when there came a thud like an enormous boulder being dropped, the reverberations going right through them.
Beata looked at Nell over the fragile form, and exclaimed to both nurse and patient, ‘I didn’t much like the sound of that, did you?’
‘Wasn’t me,’ negated Mr Brown.
Nell flickered a smile at him, but looked equally apprehensive too. She always looked apprehensive these days to Beata, but even more so now, as it became obvious that York was under attack – for simultaneous to the not too distant crump of high explosive came the sirens.
‘They were a bit late off the mark, weren’t they, Mr Brown?’
‘Don’t say Brown, say Hovis!’ rallied the old man.
Still devoting most of her attention to the patient, Nell tried to hide her disquiet under a veil of calm, and proceeded to ensure that he was comfortable, adding a few kind words before she left the bedside. ‘I don’t suppose it’ll be much, but if you can’t sleep we’ll bring you a cup of tea …’
But as they moved out of earshot, the hurricane lamps casting pools of light at their feet, she muttered worriedly to Beata, ‘Sounds as though it’s the real thing this time.’ There had been several hundred air alerts to date, most of them false alarms, and it had become policy not to evacuate the patients. Just to be sure, though, ‘Should one of us phone Sis – oh, good Lord, here’s Matron, it must be serious!’
Having hurried there at the first thud, Matron Fosdyke had come striding along each ward and finally into this one. ‘Stay where you are for the moment, Nurse,’ she instructed, pre-empting Nell’s query as to what to do with the patients. ‘I’m going back down into the yard to keep an eye on the situation – looks like it’s York’s turn at last, though!’ And she turned flamboyantly on her heel.
In her absence, Nell and Beata went about their usual business of settling the old folk, many of whom had been woken by the noisy vibrations, and, being so numerous, this required a great deal of the two nurses. The night sister did pop her head in briefly, but only to call, ‘I’m needed at the first-aid post, can you cope on your own?’
An Unsuitable Mother Page 19
