'Exactly. That's why I'd like to see Mrs Stewart. Tell her a few home truths.'
'Nanny!' Ruth stopped her before she could say more. 'Gordon and I are willing to adopt the child.'
There was a long silence. Nanny looked at first disbelieving then puzzled, but she watched and listened carefully as Ruth said slowly and calmly, 'We are going to adopt the baby with the utmost secrecy. We all know that it is best for an adopted child never to learn the truth. Such children suffer dreadfully, knowing their true parentage - that their mothers were deserted, unmarried women of feeble morals.'
At this Nanny’s hackles rose. 'There are unfortunates, Ruth. Flora is not one of those children of low moral fibre,' she said.
They had evidently established a rapport in Ruth's absence. Ruth must choose her words with care. 'Precisely. Gordon and I and you, Nanny - will know where the child came from; the stock. We will have no fears that the child could turn out to be a thief or an imbecile. This is more than most adoptive parents can know-'
Nanny came in fast, interrupting her. 'A child is a child. An adoptive one is no less likely to turn out badly if it has a good home.' She was incredulous. 'You say Gordon suggested this? As soon as he heard about it?'
'Of course.' Ruth looked away. Nanny had an uncanny knack of ferreting out the truth.
Nanny said, 'But they are on the same ship. They docked at the same time and received their mail when they arrived. How could Gordon have known that Andrew would not immediately come home to Flora and shoulder his responsibilities?’
Ruth had not foreseen this. Blood rushed to her head before the quick clarity of thought that always came to her rescue. 'Gordon does not confide everything in me, Nanny. He is a man of decision. When I gave him the news he told me to leave the ship for a couple of hours to rest and to eat. I'd driven all that way.'
'Did he ask Andrew for an explanation when you were gone?' Nanny asked.
Ruth paused for a second or two, then, 'I can only assume so. And I can only assume that Andrew denied it and Gordon believed him.'
Nanny's face fell. 'So, who to believe?-Flora or Andrew?' she said. 'But if Gordon had any doubt, I can't think why he'd suggest a secret adoption.'
'I can,' Ruth said quietly. 'Gordon has always wanted a child. A child is something to live for, especially in times of danger.' She stood up, went to the corner cupboard and took out a bottle of claret which she had placed there earlier. She brought it to the table and put it front of Nanny.
'Can you uncork it, Nanny?' she said and a Machiavellian excitement thrilled the pit of her stomach as she saw the relief on Nanny's face. 'We both need a little sustenance.' She gave a small, tight smile to cover the growing sense of her own power of control. Once Nanny was sure she was doing it for Gordon, it would be easy.
Nanny fished a corkscrew out of the drawer and expertly withdrew the cork as she said, 'But even if Flora agrees, how are you going to conceal it? It is not easy to hide a young pregnant woman.' She quickly found two wine glasses and poured.
Ruth smiled, watching her. She would only have a sip or two of wine and Nanny would finish the bottle. If Nanny went to Flora this evening certain that this was the best course for everyone, then the first hurdle was crossed. Ruth sipped her wine and put the glass down. 'It will all depend upon Flora's co-operation,' she said. 'She must be convinced that this is her best course of action.'
'How and where-?' Nanny took a long draught from her glass.
Ruth looked down at her hands for a second, then up with a pleading look at Nanny. 'Nanny, dear, it's a lot to ask of you ...' She took a deep breath and bit her lip. ‘... but would you take Flora in until the birth? Deliver the baby at Ivy Lodge?'
'Yes. But ...'
'Keep your apartments here, of course. Go back and forth as normal. I will take Bessie on as nursemaid and you can teach her …'
'You don't want to keep Flora here?' Nanny sounded doubtful. Ruth came back firmly, 'No. As soon as she can be moved you will drive her to Ivy Lodge. It would be too distressing for all of us if she were to remain here.'
Nanny said lamely, 'Ivy Lodge is off the beaten track. There is no public transport. Flora will be house-bound.' Ruth was safe now. 'Nanny! Flora is not going to be fit to go anywhere. The doctor says she will be unable to walk far, in fact bed-ridden very soon. Far better for her to be under your wing. An expectant mother needs rest, peace and quiet.'
'I know, but ...' Nanny said.
'You will deliver the baby at Ivy Lodge. As soon as the child is born, you will bring it to me.'
Nanny looked puzzled. She took a quick sip of wine. 'How will you explain the arrival of an adopted baby in the dead of night?'
Ruth sighed. 'Gordon and I are not going to explain. We will accept the child as ours from the moment of its birth.'
'How?'
'If all goes smoothly, then a few weeks before the birth I shall let it be known that I am expecting a child. I will say that I was not even aware of my condition.'
Nanny's eyes flew wide open. 'You are going to feign a pregnancy to deceive the staff? But the doctor-?' 'I'm perfectly healthy. You are a qualified nurse and midwife.'
Nanny said as she topped up her glass, 'I will do anything for Gordon, but I'm amazed he's asked you to do this when you are newly married and with every prospect of having your own children.'
Ruth snapped, 'Nanny! Impertinence!' then, to mollify her, 'Gordon will have the child he's always hoped for and nobody will know it is not his own. We have to keep it secret I'm sure you can understand that.'
'What about registering the birth?'
Ruth sighed. 'I will register the baby as my own, Nanny.'
Nanny said, 'What about Flora?'
'As soon as the baby is handed over she will be given a hundred pounds to leave the estate and make a fresh start. A long, long way from here. She cannot come back to this area,' Ruth said.
'But …’
'But nothing!' Ruth snapped. 'If she has money she will be able to put it all behind her. She may marry in a few years' time. Her husband need never know. It happens all the time, you know that. How many unmarried women have you delivered? Some of the most respectable women you will ever meet have their little secrets.'
'I was going to say that Gordon is a magistrate. He must know that he is breaking the law in giving false information on the birth certificate. That's all.' Nanny drained her glass and put it down. 'I'd better see if the potatoes are done,' she said. She put on her apron, went to the stove, opened the door and took out a tray of golden-brown crispy roast potatoes. 'Done to perfection,' she said. 'I'll take Flora's tray up before I put ours out.'
'Don't say anything of this to Flora until you are sure yourself, Nanny,' Ruth said. 'We don't want to give her false hope. For unless it is done this way, it is simply not going to happen.'
'I'll speak to her later,' Nanny replied, glancing at the half-empty bottle of claret as she took Flora's tray over to the stove and began to ladle soup into her bowl. 'I'll mull it over, over dinner.'
'Anything I can do?' Ruth asked, as if she had not given another thought to Flora. She was hungry after all the effort of the last few days, when she had barely touched food. 'Do you think we could manage another bottle between us, Nanny? Or perhaps a small brandy?'
Five weeks had passed since Flora had moved in to Ivy Lodge with Nanny, and there, the arrangement was working well. There was only one other delivery scheduled for Ivy Lodge. It was for next week and the girl would be company for Flora. Nanny slept at Ivy Lodge and spent her days doing her nursing rounds, or, as today, at Ingersley, where she was busy turning one of the attic rooms into a nursery.
Ruth was obliged to show willing and offer help, and when Nanny said, 'When I first came the whole attic floor was the nursery wing,' she replied, 'Yes, Nanny. And it looks as if everything - clothes, toys, cots, furniture - has been stored up here.' She glanced idly round the box room. 'This top floor can hardly be classed as an attic, though.' There were 'seve
n small rooms, each with its own box room, as well as a bathroom, landing and four large, sloping-ceiling bedrooms for the family's use.
Nanny opened the cupboard and took out crib bedding and frilled white drapery which every spring had been laundered, wrapped in tissue paper and put away again, waiting for the first Campbell baby since Gordon to use them. She held them to her cheek and buried her nose in the folds of linen. 'I'm sure I can still trace the scent of Gordon, dear,' she said.
Ruth turned her back and went to the window, raising alarm signals in Nanny, who had been trying for weeks to get Ruth involved in the preparations. It was not the first time that Ruth had turned her back, and Nanny was becoming worried. Ruth had not yet been to see Flora. Now she said sharply, 'I'm worried about your commitment to the adoption, Ruth. I do wish you would show more interest.'
Ruth still had her back to Nanny as she replied in a bored voice, 'I am interested. I have started to mention heartburn and sickness to everyone. I've seen a knowing look on Lucy Hamilton's face. It's a wonder she hasn't said anything to you.' She stood on tiptoe the better to see something outside.
She obviously wanted to leave to Nanny all the counting and sorting of the mounting piles of small garments. Ruth had not done a single stitch whereas Nanny, in such spare moments as she had, cut out, sewed and embroidered Viyella nightdresses and fine linen pillowcases and sleep suits. It was as if Ruth found the whole business of motherhood a bore.
Ruth continued, 'Everyone will have guessed by now. In fact I intend to announce it very soon. We can't hide these preparations from servants. But when -what exactly shall I say? When is the baby due?'
Nanny was losing patience. She said, 'We can't be sure of the birth date. Babies come when they please.'
'All right,' Ruth drawled. 'I'll try to contain myself until I have the child in my possession.'
Now Nanny warned her: 'You are expecting a lot of Flora. Many girls change their minds at the last minute.'
Ruth turned, her face pale with fury. 'Is this what she says? How dare she threaten me?’
Nanny would not be intimidated. 'It's not what she says. But I know young mothers well enough to say that Flora may change her mind.' Nanny had seen in Flora nothing but gratitude, but she had a growing sense of the wrongness of the arrangement that had seemed expedient a few weeks before. Now she said, 'Why don't you visit her? Assure her that her child will be better off as a Campbell.'
Ruth changed her tone, softened and said, 'You know I can't risk that. And I can't have her here. It would be impossible.' She picked up a small heap of vests and, handling them carefully, took them to the nursery cupboard. 'I'm so wound up, Nanny. I'll probably go into labour before Flora does.'
Nanny said gently, 'I think we should have a contingency plan for when the baby is born.'
But Ruth was not going to give an inch. 'The contingency plan is that Flora will be given a hundred pounds and told to leave the area. What more could she expect?'
'Adoption societies by law must give a mother six weeks to decide.'
'Once the baby is mine, there is no proof that Flora ever had a child and I did not,' Ruth said. 'I would deny everything, Nanny.'
'There are certain physical changes,' Nanny reminded her.
'All right! I don't want to listen to the gory details of childbearing. How soon after the birth would a woman be fit to travel?'
When Ruth was in this mood, there was no point in talking things over. Nanny said, 'Two weeks if everything runs smoothly.'
'Tch! Chinese women have them in the paddy fields and carry on working,' Ruth said. 'I'll give her two days.'
'What?'
'Or there will be no money. And I will have her turned off the estate.'
'I hope you are joking,' Nanny said.
'Then make sure she goes far, far away, Nanny,' Ruth said as she walked out of the little attic room.
Nanny put on the nursery table the little heap of clothes she would inspect carefully for any broken threads or missing ribbons or buttons. She prayed that Ruth was behaving in this manner because she was in a high state of nerves about the whole business. She tried to convince herself that many a mother did not experience the deep bond between herself and her baby until it was born.
In the middle of her reverie, before she could begin to inspect the baby clothes, there came the now-familiar sounds of the aeroplanes from the 602 Spitfire squadron at Drem, flying overhead. There must be another German attack on shipping and the docks on the Forth. Nanny was not blase, but the attacks were a daily occurrence and her heart no longer came up into her throat at the sound. These were much louder than usual, though -lower and fast approaching. She went to the window and now her heart did leap into her throat.
In that freezing February weather a German Heinkel 111 was coming towards the house, roaring above the park, the sunlight flashing off the windscreen, thick smoke pouring from a port engine. It was only a few yards above the winter-bare branches of the elms, heading straight for Ingersley. The noise was deafening. Above and behind it, pursuing it to the death, shooting flaming tracers of fire, came a Spitfire, its powerful engine whine as familiar now to everyone in the area as the sounds of the Brent geese that were taking to the air in a clumsy panic ahead of the fighter planes. Nanny instinctively ducked and put her arms over her head. The Heinkel cleared the roof. Nanny ran across to her own bedroom and saw the enemy plane going down in the direction of Ivy Lodge on the farthest reach of Ingersley land. Then both hunter and hunted disappeared from view. There was no explosion.
The nursery preparations could wait. Flora's baby was not due until mid-May. But she was a child of sixteen who had to live in hiding, and it was not right. Nanny flew like a youngster down the stairs to their living floor, put on her outdoor things and went down to the hospital's casualty area. She was needed.
A nursing sister said, 'The ambulance has gone. A doctor and two nurses are with them. There's no need for you to turn out.'
Nanny said, 'Thank you. But I'm going that way anyway. If they need extra help, I'll offer.' Flora needed her. Though she was improving under Nanny's supervision, she still suffered pain in her back from the pressure of her enlarging abdomen. Nanny would have called in a doctor but Ruth said, 'No! Not unless she is really ill. Then I'll have her sent to one of the big maternity hospitals in Edinburgh.'
Nanny hurried to the front of the house, where the Armstrong Siddeley stood. The frozen gravel crunched like broken glass under her sensible Gibson shoes. She reached the car, pushed down the icy door handle and climbed in. Then she surprised herself by calling out, 'Dash it!' when the motor coughed wearily and refused to turn. 'Dash again!' she said as she got out and dragged the starting handle from behind the seat. She rammed it into place under the radiator. She was used to it now - a hard down-stroke, keeping her thumb curled alongside her fingers, then let go as the handle swung up. The engine started at once. Nanny withdrew the handle and climbed back in, slammed the door and headed off towards the north entrance.
Lucy Hamilton was at the farmhouse gate, staring down the road. She was carrying her pregnancy well. Only a slight thickening at her waist and a widening of her hips and bottom showed her five months. Looking neat and fit in her maternity wear, she waved Nanny down and called out, 'I want to see what's going on. Can I come with you, Nanny?'
Nanny had not realised when this secret adoption was first put to her just how many lies she would have to tell, but Lucy was not to know -nobody was to know -anything at all about the connection between the Campbells and Flora.
Nanny was always out and about in the area, with ten expectant mothers to attend to. Professional etiquette and a patient's confidentiality forbade her from talking about her patients so she wound down the window and said to Lucy, 'I'm afraid not, dear ...' and with a quick wave of her hand drove off at speed through the gates, to the road and the four-mile journey to Ivy Lodge.
A mile further on, two cars were stopped at a police post. Nanny crept slowly forwa
rd until she was level with the official - a man she had not seen before. An army of new officials had been brought in since East Lothian was designated an exclusion zone because of the number of operational airfields, camps and military installations.
'Identity card?' the officer said. She handed it over.
He scrutinised it. 'Where are you going?'
'I'm a nurse,' she said. 'I have patients to see. Do you need any more details?'
He said, 'No. We're only stopping people from crowding into the area. The police are up there already, and the air force are on their way.'
She covered the last two miles quickly while pondering the problem of whisking the baby up to Ingersley if the country lanes as well as main roads were to have road blocks and inquisitive officials. So far they had been allowed to move around freely within the zone. Leaving the area was no problem -it was the incoming people who were checked.
Nanny drove down the rough road to Ivy Lodge, a two storey house built of local sandstone, set well back from a road so narrow and deeply rutted it was impossible to travel by horse and cart. It was even difficult on foot, for it was a mile from the nearest paved road. Nanny knew every inch of it, though, and her wheels went spinning over the frozen puddles without once skidding off the track.
She found the house unusually quiet. Often she would hear Flora singing now that her difficult pregnancy was being carefully managed. She had a beautiful voice and would sit at the piano for hours, singing and trying to learn the accompaniment. Flora was a sweet and good girl.
In the kitchen the fire was lit in the cottage range, a spark guard was in place and a kettle simmered at the back of the stove. Nanny went out again and, shading her eyes against the glare as she scanned the fields, saw Flora being guided painfully slowly down the hillside by a man who was himself leaning on a stick. Flora raised her arm in recognition but so feebly that Nanny ran towards them and was out of breath when she reached them.
The Weeping Tree Page 19
