by June Francis
Grace breathed a sigh of relief as she leaned back in the passenger seat. ‘Are you all right, Dad?’ she called over her shoulder.
‘Fine, lass. I’m in clover. I really appreciate you giving us a lift, Kyle,’ he said.
‘My pleasure,’ Kyle assured him. ‘Have you enjoyed your outing?’
‘It was the gear!’ exclaimed Norman. ‘And tomorrow I’m to have a visit from your uncle Douglas, Grace. Apparently, he mentioned to Ben at the wedding that if Ben ever needed to get in touch with him, he was to ring him at work and he gave Ben his work’s phone number.’
Grace was flabbergasted. ‘I knew nothing of this. Why did Ben telephone him?’
‘Well, you do now, lass. I think Ben just wanted me to have a new visitor to talk to, and he knows how fond I am of your uncle.’
‘What about Aunt Polly? She still won’t have anything to do with me.’
Norman said, ‘She doesn’t have to know anything about it, so keep your gob shut and don’t say anything to Beryl if you see her out hereabouts. She just might let it slip and I don’t want Douglas getting into trouble with Polly.’
‘All right, Dad. I had planned to be out tomorrow.’ Grace turned to Kyle. ‘Do you think it’ll be fine for me to drop in and see your Jane and little one tomorrow afternoon?’
‘I should think so. We’ve got Anne and the children staying with us up from Essex,’ he said. ‘You might like to give Milly that news and she and the twins could come along as well. Come for tea. You do remember that Anne’s husband is Jane’s brother. You probably know, too, that Milly met Anne and Andrew on a ferry across the Mersey.’
‘Will do,’ said Grace distracted for the second with the idea of Uncle Douglas’s visit.
* * *
The following morning, having left her father in bed longer to recuperate from yesterday’s outing, Grace baked some fairy cakes for her dad, uncle and Simon to have as a special treat while she was out. Grace would take some cakes to Jane’s as well. She set out at three o’clock to collect Milly on her way and waved to her uncle as he rode past her on his motorbike. Milly was waiting for her on the step with the twins.
‘You’ve baked too,’ said Milly. ‘I’ve made a walnut and coffee sponge cake.’
‘Lovely,’ Grace said. ‘I’ve baked fairy cakes.’
‘It’s going to be a right feast,’ said Milly. ‘The kids will scoff plenty!’
Grace and Milly hurried along, chatting of this and that all the way to Kyle and Jane’s home, which was a large house overlooking Newsham Park. Kyle helped to lift the pram into the entrance hall before opening the second door on the left and standing aside to let Milly and Grace go ahead of him, as he carried the twins inside. A fireguard was in place of a glowing coal fire, so the twins were leaned against Milly’s legs near a scattering of toys and the other children who were playing on the hearth rug. The largest child, who was Anne’s daughter, picked up a rag doll and handed it to Milly’s daughter who was dressed in a pretty pink frock, white leggings and a cardigan.
‘Here, you can play with this,’ she said, and a delightful smile lit up her heart-shaped face framed by flaxen curls. ‘I’m five and will be going to school this year. My name’s Chrissie.’ Her blue eyes stared up at Milly. ‘What are your babies’ names?’
Milly lowered herself to the girl’s level and said, ‘John and Mary.’
Anne, Jane’s sister-in-law, came over at that point and said, ‘It’s incredible how they’ve grown.’
‘Time does fly past. I mean Chrissie’s just told me she’ll be going to school this year,’ said Milly.
‘I know. We’re reached another stage in life and I’m going to have to reschedule my days to fit in with taking her to school and picking her up, feeding the baby and giving some of my time, as well, to housework and shopping,’ said Anne. ‘I’ve told Andrew I don’t think I could cope with any more children.’ She faced Grace. ‘You look as if you haven’t far to go now. When is the baby due?’
‘September! I’m praying all goes well and that my dad lasts at least that long.’ Grace gave a shuddering breath.
Anne’s expression altered and became grave. ‘Milly told me. I’ll put you and your family on my prayer list.’
‘Thank you,’ said Grace, kneeling on the rug and reaching for some coloured wooden blocks and showing baby John how to build with them.
It was not long before the women were able to leave the children playing reasonably amicably with Chrissie watching over their fair play; the women sat at the table and enjoyed a cup of tea, sandwiches and cake. Anne’s husband, Andrew, also joined them. After the first cup of tea they saw to the children, although Chrissie had already begged for two fairy cakes, one for her and one for her brother.
Anne had told her daughter to mind her manners, but Jane had given way to her niece’s plea and then made up plates for the other children and drinks of milk in beakers with straws.
‘Do you and Andrew have any time to yourself?’ asked Milly.
Anne said, ‘We’re fortunate in having Jimmy’s aunt living next door to us in Southend, as you know. She’s willing to babysit once a week, so we can go to the flickers or the theatre.’
‘Andrew, you’re a newspaper reporter, is that correct?’ said Grace.
‘Yes, why do you ask?’ said Andrew.
‘I just wondered what you thought about what was going on in Germany,’ Grace said.
Andrew frowned. ‘I don’t like what I’m hearing from our Foreign Correspondent over there. Hitler started conscription earlier this year. He’s definitely looking for trouble.’
‘But surely the League of Nations can do something to stop him?’ said Grace.
‘No country wants outright war so they’re putting their hopes in diplomacy,’ interjected Anne. ‘Now that might work if Hitler was a reasonable man, but he’s not.’
‘So, what do you think will happen next?’ asked Milly, glancing at her children, and then back at Andrew.
‘Hitler will lie through his teeth, bidding his time until he has trained troops and weapons of war ready, and then he’ll make his move and other countries will be caught on the hop. Churchill is right and we should be preparing for war.’
The three women looked horrified. ‘What about the German people, surely they don’t want another war?’ said Grace.
‘Germany’s economy is in a mess and anyone of note standing against Hitler and his gang disappear, most likely murdered. As for the ordinary people, they’re suffering and still smarting after being defeated in the last war and losing their colonies abroad. The Jews are being persecuted because Hitler is blaming them, saying they’ve got rich at the expense of the German people.’
‘So, our next government needs to do something,’ said Grace, thinking of the forthcoming general election later in the year.
‘We need someone with courage, who is also patriotic and honourable and can stir our nation to do what is right,’ Andrew said. ‘What we’re likely to get is an appeaser because most British people don’t want another war… and then there are the British fascists, who admire Hitler and Mussolini.’
‘Such as Sir Oswald Mosley,’ said Milly. ‘I’ve read about him in the Echo.’
Andrew nodded, and then said in a low voice, ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be talking to you like this, worrying you.’
‘Ben and Dad discuss Hitler and Germany between themselves,’ said Grace. ‘I know they think such things should be kept from women, but what is happening over in Europe will affect us too if the worse comes to the worst.’
‘Yes, women had their part to play in the last war,’ Anne said. ‘We need to be prepared for the fight on the Home Front.’
‘Kyle lost his father in the last war,’ said Jane. ‘We really do need to stop Hitler now before it’s too late.’
‘Ben’s brother Martin was declared missing presumed dead,’ said Grace.
The women looked at Andrew, but he was silent, and it was left to Jane to say, ‘Let�
�s be prepared for whatever happens, while at the same time making the most of the time we have now and live in hope and pray for righteousness to triumph.’
‘Here, here!’ said Grace firstly, with tears in her eyes, thinking that she could at least be thankful that it was unlikely her father would live to see the horrors of another war if peace went to the wall.
The mood was altered by John knocking over the building blocks and Mary, his twin, bursting into tears. The adults now gave their attention to the children once more. After all, it was the children who were the future.
Chapter 22
Liverpool: September 1935
Grace was thinking about the threat of war, it seemed a long time since that tea when Jane’s brother had talked about what was going on in Germany and she soon put it out of her mind when her waters broke, and she went into labour on a Saturday evening towards the end of September. Fortunately, Ben was home, and he ran to fetch the midwife, Maggie, who lived a few streets away. Ben was obviously stressed, so, feeling sorry for him, Maggie returned with him straight away bringing along her black bag. Maggie then proceeded to give Ben firm orders to boil a kettle and to make a pot of tea for the whole household, including the mother-to-be and for herself. He was then to boil another kettle and air the baby’s vest, nightie, matinee coat, nappy and shawl, before removing himself from the bedroom and staying out of the way.
Norman, who was just as on edge as Ben, suggested the pair of them and Simon get on with crocheting the border of the rug for Ben and Grace’s bedroom, which had been forgotten about since the households had moved in together. Meanwhile, Grace was settled as comfortably as possible in bed, while the midwife sat at her bedside having set out the instruments she might need. Grace remembered Maggie from Milly’s labour, and tried to listen to her as she told her not to worry and how to breathe through the contractions.
‘I don’t think you’re going to take long,’ Maggie said.
Grace just did her best to let the pains pass over her like waves on a shore. She tried to distract herself by remembering that time on the beach with Ben on their honeymoon, but it was impossible. Then suddenly the pains altered and she had an urge to push before she felt a fierce pain and was told the baby’s head was out. Grace tried to see her child but found it difficult as she had the urge to push again. Then a few minutes later she heard the baby cry.
‘What is it?’ Grace asked.
‘A darling little girl,’ said Maggie.
Not long after, Maggie wrapped the baby in a towel, and placed her in the crook of Grace’s arm against her breast so that Grace was able to feel for herself that her daughter had twenty tiny fingers and twenty perfect toes. Her hair was damp; Grace could not decide whether it would be blonde or light brown, but her eyes were blue and there was a dimple in her dainty chin.
‘Oh, she’s beautiful,’ murmured Grace. ‘Can my husband come in and see her now and then my father and stepson?’
‘Shortly,’ replied Maggie. ‘We haven’t quite finished here yet.’ She latched the baby’s rosebud mouth onto a nipple and watched, occasionally adjusting the baby’s position, until the tiny mite suckled. ‘That first milk is extra special.’
Five minutes later there came a knock on the bedroom door and Grace heard Ben asking if he could come in.
‘Just a minute,’ said Maggie, and as she spoke, she placed the baby still wrapped in the towel, into a Moses’ basket on a stand. ‘Have you brought your daughter’s clothes?’
‘I have a daughter!’ exclaimed Ben, a choke in his voice.
‘That’s what I said,’ replied Maggie, opening the door wide, so he could enter.
He handed her the baby garments and then went over to the bed and bent and kissed Grace. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Now I am. I thought you might like a daughter, what with already having a son.’
‘I’m delighted to have a daughter, but more importantly you have both come through the ordeal safely.’
‘Go on and see her then,’ Grace laughed.
Ben turned away to where Maggie held out the baby wrapped in a shawl. ‘I’ve yet to dress her, but you have a hold of her for a few minutes.’
Grace watched her husband’s face as he gazed into their child’s face in wonder. ‘She has my mam’s dimple. How she would have loved her.’
‘I hope Simon will love her,’ she said.
‘I have no doubts about that,’ said Ben, handing the baby back to Maggie. ‘I’d better go and tell him and your dad.’
Ben did not have to go far because Simon and Norman were halfway up the stairs.
‘A precious little girl,’ Grace heard Ben say.
‘Can we see them?’ Norman asked.
‘In a few minutes, the midwife is just dressing the baby.’
‘All went well – is Grace all right?’ asked Norman.
Ben smiled and nodded.
Maggie opened the door. ‘Come on in, gentlemen.’
Grace was sitting propped up with pillows and the baby in her arms. ‘Say hello to the latest member of the family,’ she said, a smile in her voice.
Simon was at the bedside first and reached out and took hold of one of the baby’s hands. ‘Hello, little sister,’ he said, gently shaking the hand. ‘Gosh, how small your hand is compered to mine.’
Norman sat down in the chair Maggie had vacated, and, with tears in his eyes, he kissed his daughter’s cheek. ‘All’s well,’ he said. ‘I feel truly blessed. A daughter, a son-in-law who is like a son to me, a grandson, and now a granddaughter.’
‘Oh, Dad, I’m so grateful.’ Grace wondered whether she would ever be as happy again as she was in that moment.
Chapter 23
Liverpool: January 1936
Grace lifted her daughter out of her cot, changed her nappy and dressed her, then put her to the breast. Irene was now almost four months old and had been christened at the beginning of November, a fortnight before her grandfather had passed away in his sleep. Norman had lasted longer than Grace had thought possible, despite the fact that he had stopped the radiation treatment some time ago, complaining that it made him headachy and sick. To alleviate the pain of the growing cancer, he had paid for morphine injections, which a visiting nurse had administered. She had felt lost and disappointed, having convinced herself that he would still be on the scene for his granddaughter’s first Christmas. Simon had experienced his loss deeply especially on his birthday and at Christmastide comparing it to last year’s, but the boy took some solace in his new important role as big brother to baby Irene. Grace had found strength in her Christian faith and Ben’s emotional support, having already replaced her father as her rock since their marriage. Yet she could never forget the years her father had supported her.
Grace rested her chin against her daughter’s fine blonde hair and swallowed a lump in her throat, thinking it was a sad start to the year as the King had died yesterday, 20th January 1936. His second son, the handsome Prince of Wales had been proclaimed King Edward VIII. The Prince was popular and even the anti-monarchists were looking forward to the celebrations when he would be crowned king. The country even had hopes of a wedding to a suitable bride soon, as Edward was forty and still unmarried.
Later in the day, she met Milly for a walk to the shops and the talk quickly turned to the new monarch. ‘I had a letter from Anne recently, and she wrote that Andrew told her that the new King has been seen around a lot with an American woman who is married, but also a divorcee. It is rumoured by some that Edward wants to marry her, and she is in the process of divorcing her second husband – a Mr Simpson. The press have known for a while, but were told to keep it out of the newspapers and off the wireless… but it’s been reported in the American newspapers and some of the European ones too.’ Milly confided.
Grace’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened with shock. ‘He must be mad. The prime minister and the Church aren’t going to allow the King to marry a divorced woman!’
‘Apparently he’s in lo
ve with her and isn’t prepared to give her up,’ said Milly.
‘So, what does Andrew think will happen?’ asked Grace.
‘Well, he thinks there won’t be a coronation until the government have their say. It’ll be in all the British and Empire newspapers this week. He says Edward’s had affairs with married women before he met Mrs Simpson…’
‘What’s her first name?’ asked Grace.
‘Wallace. Peculiar name, isn’t it?’
Grace nodded. ‘I wonder what she looks like.’
‘No doubt her picture will be in the Echo tomorrow.’
‘Has she any children?’ Grace asked.
‘If she has, Andrew didn’t mention them. She’s one of those socialites who mix with the rich and famous, and just think of having a good time.’
‘I bet she doesn’t have children then,’ said Grace laughing. ‘They’d have stopped her gallop, and so would her first husband, if there had been children around.’
‘If she has, it’ll be in the papers,’ Milly said, stopping outside the butcher’s on Whitefield Road.
Grace stopped as well and put the brake on the pram, thinking she could keep her eye on the pram through the butcher’s window. She bought stewing steak, thinking to make a casserole, and as soon as she paid for her purchase, she hurried outside after Milly who had bought three mutton chops and a quarter of mince.
‘Have you a visitor for dinner this evening?’ asked Grace.
Milly nodded. ‘Jimmy’s mam is coming. The mince is for the twins—’ She paused and glanced about her. ‘Where’s Fergie, by the way?’
‘I left him at home because he didn’t budge from in front of the fire when I called him,’ said Grace. ‘He went out with Simon after school yesterday and rolled in the wet grass apparently, so I’m wondering if he has a chill. I’d hate to lose him. After losing Dad, Simon would be miserable all over again.’ She paused. ‘Anyway, I’d best nip along to the post office and buy some stamps. Beryl’s had a baby boy and I want to send her and Davy congratulations.’
