by Maureen Lee
It took less than half an hour to get washed, dressed and pack some of her things in the shabby cardboard suitcase she’d used when she was in the army, leaving behind the maternity clothes. Iris had left a lot of her things too. She tiptoed quietly around the house so Nerys wouldn’t hear, and crept out of the back door. There was a road behind the cottages that led to the village centre, where she hoped it would be possible to catch a bus.
She hadn’t been walking long when she heard the sound of a car, and a male voice singing ‘Ol’ Man River’. Seconds later, the car drew up beside her.
The singer, a man with a huge black beard and laughing eyes, rolled down the window. ‘Want a lift somewhere, pet?’ he asked in a strong Yorkshire accent.
‘The nearest bus stop, please.’
‘Get in then, pet. It’s only half a mile away. Give us your suitcase and I’ll put it in the back.
‘And where is it you’re heading on the bus?’ he enquired when he set off again, Nell in the passenger seat. She felt grateful to be off her feet, already feeling worn out after walking merely a fraction of a mile.
‘Liverpool,’ she replied. ‘I mean, I know a bus from Caerdovey won’t get me as far as Liverpool, but I thought it’d take me to a place where I could catch one.’
‘Not at this time on a Sunday afternoon, pet, but I can take you to a place where a bus leaves for Liverpool in another two hours, at eight o’clock. In fact it’s where I’m heading right now. I’m night manager at Butlins holiday camp in Pwllheli, about twenty miles away. Being so early in the season, we have guests who come just for the weekend, and an awful lot of them are from Liverpool.’
Nell told him it was the closest to a miracle that she had ever come and she would be eternally grateful. He told her his name was George Hurley and that he would eventually live in the camp when it got busier, but for now he was staying with an old army mate who’d lost a leg during the D-Day landings.
‘I’m sorry about your mate,’ Nell said. ‘I was in the army too – the Auxiliary Territorial Service.’
By the time they reached Pwllheli, they were good friends. Nell promised to do her very best to spend a week at the camp, if not this year, then next, and George said that if he ever went to Liverpool, he’d look her up.
The bus was a dead-posh charabanc with comfortable seats, and was only half full when it left for Liverpool. The other passengers were mainly young men who were very drunk and very noisy, but Nell fell asleep soon after they left the camp and didn’t wake up until the bus stopped at the Pier Head in Liverpool. From there she caught a tram to Bootle and went home.
Chapter 9
It was well past midnight when Nell let herself into the house in Amber Street. As expected, it was in darkness. ‘It’s only me,’ she called.
Minutes later, her father came downstairs wearing maroon silk pyjamas no doubt destined for a posh men’s shop, but that had fallen off the back of one of the lorries that featured so largely in his life. She’d like to bet that half the men in Bootle were wearing identical pairs.
‘Long time no see, luv,’ he said. ‘How’s the doctor’s missus? Did she have the baby?’ Strangely enough, Nell was really pleased to see him. He was much nicer these days. She remembered the day she’d come home from the army, when he’d been dead cruel. She reckoned the change in attitude was at least partly due to her starting her own business; he now considered her a chip off the old block.
‘Yes, Dad. She’s fine, she had a boy: William.’
‘Would you like a cuppa or something?’ He gestured towards the stairs. ‘I’ll wake your mam up if you like.’
‘I’d sooner go to bed, ta. Is me bed made up?’
‘It’s never been unmade, luv. Your mam even kept a hot-water bottle in it during the really cold weather.’
‘I’ll just go to the lavvy, then I’ll go on up.’
‘Righty-o, Nell.’ He patted her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you tomorrer. Your mam’ll be dead pleased when she wakes up and finds you home.’
Next morning, Mam brought her tea upstairs after Nell had explained that she had the curse pretty bad. ‘Me tummy really hurts.’
‘You don’t usually have trouble that way, do you, luv?’ Mam said sympathetically. She’d had her hair tinted, not a different colour, but to her original dark brown to hide the grey. ‘You have a nice lie-in, then. Your sanitary rags are in the drawer and there’s a jerry under the bed, save you using the lavvy. Just shout if you need anything.’
Nell had little difficulty getting used to being home where she was with people who loved her, even if they didn’t always show it. Their Kenny came in for a word at one o’clock when he was home for his dinner, and her sister Theresa dropped in after work.
The bed was warm, and more comfortable than the one in Caerdovey. Nell mostly lay in a dreamlike state without any idea what time it was, dozing off now and then, waking up to wonder where she was and finding she was in Bootle. Sometimes she remembered William and sometimes she forgot. The memory would come with a tug of the heart, the feeling of his body pressed against hers, his fresh soapy smell after Nerys had washed him.
She worried about Nerys, about walking out without thanking her, without saying ta-ra. When she felt better, she would write her a letter. Well, she might.
Dad was out all day. He came into the bedroom when it was dark smelling of ale. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘Did the doctor’s wife compensate you for giving up that nice little business of yours while you stayed with her in Wales?’
Nell poked her head out of the bedclothes. ‘We’re friends, Dad. You don’t compensate friends. I willingly gave up me time.’
Dad didn’t agree. ‘If you’re such a good friend, it’d be only fair if she compensated you,’ he argued. ‘But never mind. By the way, I’ve been offered a little Austin 7, which I wouldn’t want meself, but it’d be perfect for you. I take it you intend starting up your little business again.’
‘How much is it?’ She had nineteen pounds, four and sixpence in her Post Office account, which she considered a small fortune.
‘I’ve been offered it for nothing, in return for a favour, like, so it’ll cost you the same.’
‘Ta, Dad.’ She didn’t ask what the favour was.
He went away and Nell snuggled under the bedclothes. When she woke up next morning, she felt much better after a whole day in bed, though she was still bleeding and her breasts felt like concrete and hurt quite a bit. She supposed the milk was drying up.
She got out of bed and looked in her wardrobe for something to wear. It was May, almost summer, and apart from the nice red frock she’d bought for Ryan and Rosie’s wedding, she possessed just one summer dress, as well as a flowered dirndl skirt and two cotton blouses. She put on a blouse and the skirt and, after breakfast, told her mother she was going to church. ‘And I might go round and see Rosie O’Neill and little Bridie while I’m out.’
Mass was being said in St James’s church when she went in, attended by only a handful of worshippers at the front, all women. Nell knelt at the back with her head in her hands. She remained there for more than an hour, praying and thinking in turn. She prayed for her family and thanked God for returning Dad to his proper wife and improving his temper no end. She prayed for Kenny and her sisters and their children, for Maggie, and Maggie’s family. ‘And please, God,’ she whispered, ‘make William have a really happy life.’
Although she didn’t wish them any harm, she hesitated before praying for Iris and Tom. From the start there’d been no suggestion that after having had the baby she wouldn’t return to their house and their relationship continue as it had done before. Nell would still make the meals and, of course, help look after the baby now that he had arrived. She hadn’t anticipated having the feelings for him that she had now.
After Sunday, she didn’t think she would be made welcome. She recalled the horrible way that Tom had spoken to her after he and Iris had returned to find William had already been born. It wa
s as if she’d done something wrong, when things wouldn’t have happened the way they did if he hadn’t gone for a drive. And then to leave while she was asleep without saying goodbye! The idea of facing either of the Grants again made her shudder.
Her knees were hurting. She sat back on the pew and wondered seriously what to do with the rest of her life. For a brief moment she thought about demanding William back – legally the Grants wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if she insisted – but her son would have a far better life with them than he would with her, his real mother.
The years in the army had been the best of her life, but, thankfully, the war was over. She’d enjoyed running her ‘little business’, as Dad called it, and now he’d said there was a car available if she wanted it. Nell’s brow creased as she thought ahead. Yes, she did want the car, and she would start up her business again. There was still no sign of food rationing ending – in fact, for the first time bread and potatoes had joined the list of rationed foods when they had been freely available during the war.
She’d give her company a name, wear a smart white overall, have new cards made, start using a wider range of menus and have them printed too so customers could make a choice. And there was no way she could carry on the business from Amber Street. She would need to find a place of her own. Her spirits were gradually lifting as she thought ahead.
One thing, though – all her cooking utensils and other bits and pieces were in the Grants’ kitchen. She would collect them now, this very minute. And once she’d got them, she would never go back to the house again. As far as she could, she would try to put her son out of her mind for ever.
Adele Grant was slightly perplexed by her daughter-in-law’s behaviour since she’d returned home from Wales on Sunday with the new baby. Iris had always appeared to be an exceptionally level-headed person. Of course, she’d had a problem, very high blood pressure, the reason why she’d gone away to have the baby in the first place, to get some peace and quiet. Maybe, instead of the long rest doing her good, it had got her down, or perhaps it had been the terrible weather. Whatever it was, Iris had returned home quite obviously depressed and much too soon after the baby’s birth.
At first, Adele had been worried there was something wrong with the baby, with William, but he was a lively, healthy little chap and she had fallen in love with him immediately.
She was acting as her son’s receptionist once more. The Tuesday-morning surgery was extremely busy, but Tom’s surgeries always were. She was so proud of him, the care he took of all his patients, overloading himself with work. She’d been run off her feet since the door had opened that morning at half past eight.
The buzzer rang again to indicate that another patient had come in, and she went out to take their name and give them a number in the queue. She was pleased when she saw Nell Desmond in the hallway, although she thought she looked a bit peaky.
‘Nell!’ She kissed the girl on the cheek. ‘Have you come to see William?’ Adele rolled her eyes, aware of her own stupidity. ‘Of course, you saw him when he was first born, didn’t you? I forgot for the minute that you’d been in Wales with Iris. It was awfully good of you, Nell.’ She kissed her again. Nell was just about the nicest person she’d ever known.
‘I’ve come for me equipment,’ Nell said in a strangely subdued tone. ‘It’s in a cupboard in the kitchen. I just wanted to take it out the way, that’s all.’
‘Oh, I’m sure it won’t be in Iris’s way, dear. I’d ask her to come down, but last time I was upstairs she was bathing William. Of course, you can always go up and have a word.’
‘No thank you. If I could just have me things . . .’
‘Of course, dear.’ There was something really odd about this. She wondered if there’d been some sort of unpleasantness in Wales.
The buzzer went and another patient entered. By the time Adele had dealt with the woman, Nell was emerging from the kitchen carrying a cardboard box.
‘Thank you,’ she said, nodding.
Adele went ahead to open the door. It was then she noticed the wet marks on the front of Nell’s blouse, and she came close to fainting from the shock of it. ‘Dearest Nell,’ she murmured. She made a clumsy attempt to hug the girl, but didn’t quite manage it. ‘Nell, dear,’ she whispered, ‘if you bind your breasts tightly with bandage, it will dry the milk up.’
Nell walked away clutching the box as if she hadn’t heard.
Adele returned to the kitchen, heart racing, hardly able to breathe. So that was what had happened! She would never mention it to a soul, not even her husband, and certainly not to Iris or Tom.
‘Nell came this morning,’ Iris told her husband when surgery was over. ‘Adele told me.’ Adele had claimed a headache and gone home, which was very unlike her, and Tom and Iris were drinking tea in the kitchen. The baby was asleep in his pram in the corner of the room. ‘Lord knows how she managed to get home from Wales so quickly. Weren’t you supposed to be collecting her some time this week?’
Tom grimaced. ‘I’d arranged with the taxi in Caerdovey to bring her home on Wednesday. It’s not yet forty-eight hours since she had the baby and she should still be in bed. Anyway, what did she want?’
‘Her equipment, that’s all. She’d left it the dresser cupboard.’
‘If she’s collected her equipment, does that mean she won’t be coming back again?’
‘I reckon so. We’ve really hurt her. Do you understand that, Tom?’ she asked a trifle shrilly. ‘You shouldn’t have spoken to her the way you did. We shouldn’t have just taken William while she was asleep. It was terribly cruel.’
Tom studied the tea in his cup before answering. ‘I didn’t like the way she was holding William, as if she owned him, as if he was hers, when we’d always known he would be ours.’
Iris wondered how this usually soft and gentle man could sound so hard, cruel almost, when speaking of Nell, who was her dearest friend – or had been until the day before yesterday.
‘What was she supposed to do when William arrived and we weren’t there: ignore him, refuse to touch him, refuse to hold him, refuse to give birth until we got back?’ she asked. ‘You should have known better than to suggest we went out, Tom.’ How could he have been so stupid, on top of everything else?
‘We’ve had this discussion before, several times, over the last two days,’ Tom said coldly. ‘I was anxious for you. We both wanted a baby, but you wanted it the most. I visualised Nell refusing to hand him over.’
‘So, you told her in a really horrible way to let me have him. I wonder how she must have felt.’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Iris, can we please stop having this argument?’ Tom groaned. ‘What’s done is done. We’ve got William, though if I remember rightly we’d chosen the name Christopher if it was a boy; it’s still not too late to change it.’
The baby began to cry. Iris rose to her feet. ‘Nell chose William and I wouldn’t dream of changing it.’ It was the least she could do, she thought as she lifted him out of his pram. ‘Hello, darling.’ It was a horrid way of acquiring a baby, stealing him away from his mother while she was asleep. It was all supposed to have been so different. She would always blame Tom for the way things had turned out.
‘Is he all right?’ he asked.
‘Fine, probably just hungry.’ We’ll pay for this, she thought. One of these days William will find out the truth and turn against us.
Tom said, ‘I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved. But when I went into that bedroom on Sunday and saw Nell and William together, I was terrified, more terrified than I’ve been in my entire life, that we might lose him.’
That said, he burst into tears.
Nell’s car was stored at the back of a garage in Stanley Road. After work Kenny taught her how to drive, having learnt himself while she was away. She had put her name down for a driving test. Meanwhile, she enjoyed being left to herself in the parlour to draw up menus, design cards and try to think of a name for her business.
�
��I can get the name embroidered on the pocket of your pinafore,’ Dad said enthusiastically. ‘And have it painted on the car doors if you want.’
‘We’ll see, Dad.’
In the end she decided to call herself Crown Caterers. She thought it sounded classy, and her father agreed. ‘As if you were catering for the King and Queen, like,’ he said proudly.
Halfway through June, a month after William’s birth, Nell went to London to stay with Maggie. Maggie had been nagging her to come ever since she’d moved there a year ago. Just now, there was a room to let in the house where she lived in Shepherd’s Bush, and she’d talked the owner into letting Nell stay for a few days while a new tenant was found.
Nell wore her red dress, a black bolero that belonged to their Theresa and a black Greta Garbo hat that she had found on the floor of the wardrobe. She caught a train that arrived in London at six o’clock. Euston station was full of smoke and thunderously noisy. It was Friday, and Maggie had come straight from work to meet her. She flung her arms around her friend’s neck, full of questions.
‘What’s Iris’s baby like? Did you like Wales? Was the journey all right? You look awful pale, Nell. Have you really got a car of your own?’
Nell laughed. ‘Last Christmas you accused me of having rosy cheeks. Anyroad, the baby’s fine, Wales was okay once the snow went, the train journey was interesting and, yes, I have a car of me own. I’m taking the driving test next month.’
Maggie looked impressed. ‘You’re getting dead posh, Nell Desmond, particularly in that hat.’
