by Annie Murray
‘Whatever are you going to do, love? Who is he? Is he going to marry yer?’
Katie shook her head. ‘No. It doesn’t matter who he is. But he gave me money. And I’ll be able to work for quite a time yet. After that – I don’t know.’
She’d gone to Collinge’s that day, handed in her notice and walked into a job in a typing pool at another machine-tools firm, a job where she could be part of a crowd and not stand out. She already had good references from the Commercial School and didn’t stoop to ask for the glowing recommendations that Simon had promised. So far as she was concerned, she never wanted to set eyes on him again, the slimy bastard. She had to close the door on him. He was no help. He was nothing. As the day passed, she felt herself develop a hard shell of protection around herself. To her surprise, she wanted to wrap protection around the child. After all, it was all she had in the world now.
‘I’ll find another place to live,’ she promised Enid. ‘Only I just need somewhere for tonight. I don’t want to make trouble for you. You’ve been very kind.’
‘Well, Katie – I can’t say I’m not surprised at what you’ve told me. Shocked is the word – I’m shocked. But I’ve known you for such a time, I’m fond of you, bab, and your mother and I’ve been friends for years . . .’
‘Yes, that’s what I mean – I don’t want to cause trouble.’
‘And she threw you out?’ Enid’s good-natured face creased with distress. ‘I mean, it must’ve been a terrible blow for her. You’ve always been such a good girl, Katie. And your mother’s a lady. But surely she’ll change her mind, she’ll get over it. I mean, you’re her flesh and blood when it comes down to it. I should leave it a few days and then go and see her. Make it up with her. It’s hard for a mother to see this happen – but to wash her hands of you! I should have thought better of her. Give her another chance, and maybe she’ll give you one.’
Katie was silent. She remembered the look of vicious loathing on her mother’s face and her words: D’you think I’ve hauled myself out of the gutter for you to drag us straight back down there again?
‘I don’t know about that,’ she said.
‘Look.’ Enid got up. ‘You can stay here tonight – of course you can. I mean, I can’t put you up for the long term, but . . .’
‘Oh no, I know! Thank you so much.’ She felt tearful again.
‘But do as I say, love – go and see your mother. See if you both can’t come to some agreement.’
As she settled Katie into her spare room that night – the room that had once been her dead son’s – Enid said goodnight, then added, ‘I wish I could say it’s going to be easy, love. But the fact is, you’re going to have a struggle ahead of yer.’
Twenty-One
There was a thick fog the next evening when she came out of work. People were calling out to one another in exasperation at being bumped into or struggling to find the right turning.
‘Oi – watch it!’ a male voice snapped as Katie’s shoulder collided painfully with someone. She paused in the street to get her bearings.
The firm where she now worked, under the eagle eye of a Miss Poulter, who was in charge of the typing pool, was in Ombersley Road in Balsall Heath. It was not too long a walk to Sparkhill, but at this rate it would take ages.
Gradually Katie felt her way along to where she needed to turn off, coughing in the damp, acrid air, though at least the dark and fog made her feel safely hidden. All the time now she felt as if everyone could see that she was growing out at the front. She had not mentioned that she was expecting when she went for the job, though she did call herself Mrs O’Neill.
She passed a pub on one corner. The door opened to let someone out and for a second she made out a handwritten sign on the door: ‘NO BEER’ in large letters. But it made her think of cosy evenings she had spent with Simon in the corner of various pubs while he talked to her – yes, she could see, he had done most of the talking; had not, truth to tell, shown much real interest in her. At the time she had overlooked this and not expected anything else. Those evenings out they had had – to the pictures, or the occasional dance – and those stolen afternoons in Kings Heath, how precious they had seemed and how bitterly she remembered them now. It was remembering the good times, as they had seemed then, that hurt the most and made her long for things to be different. She had thought she was in love, that this was how it was. You met someone, fell in love and they loved you back, the way her mother had. But it had all been a lie. The hurt of his rejection bit deeply into her. She kept seeing Simon’s cold, contemptuous face as he handed her the money, as he would to a tart. That soon put a stop to any tender feelings she still had, of missing him. She was the one left raw and aching, and frightened and carrying his child. She boiled with the injustice of it. Any time she was alone for a few minutes she found herself ranting at him, pouring out all her hurt in bitter insults and accusations.
‘All I was to you was a bit of fun,’ she whispered furiously in that dark street. ‘A chance for you to get what you wanted and then throw me aside like rubbish! I was just a plaything – I might as well have been a common whore. You never felt anything for me, not like you said. You lied and lied . . . And now my life is ruined, and you’ll just go on, having everything on a plate the way you always have . . .’ Her hurt and rage rose up and choked her, so that she was weeping, struggling to be quiet about it. She had to stop and recover as the tears blinded her even further. She longed to hurt him back. But she knew it was no good – he didn’t care, and nothing she could say would make him care.
All day, during the back-aching hours of typing, she had been a bag of nerves thinking about her mother. Surely Enid was right – Vera would come round. If she went to her and talked calmly, told her mother how sorry she was . . . Vera had had all day to calm down – surely she couldn’t have meant what she said, so cruel and so final?
Reaching the house, Katie saw that the blackout curtains were drawn closed. She was about to walk in as she would normally have done, but she paused on the step, realizing she had better knock. Somewhere nearby a neighbour’s cat was yowling to be let in. Taking several deep, frightened breaths, she raised her hand and knocked.
Vera opened the door slowly. She had left the hall light off, so the only illumination came through faintly from the back room, showing her forbidding silhouette. Katie waited for her to say, ‘Well, come in then’, but Vera said nothing and stood blocking the doorway. It was impossible to see the exact expression on her face in the shadows, but after a few seconds she folded her arms.
‘Mother . . .’ Katie was about to embark on her apology, but Vera raised a hand to cut her off.
‘Here you are – there’s as much as you’ll need in here.’
Only then, as her mother turned, did Katie see the suitcase at the bottom of the stairs. Vera dragged it out onto the step.
‘There’s nothing else here that belongs to you.’
‘Mother!’ Katie’s voice rose to a wail. ‘You can’t just throw me out on the street like this! For God’s sake, have some pity. You can’t mean for me just to go and never come back! I’ve come to apologize . . .’
‘Apologize?’ Vera derided. ‘What use is that? It’s a bit late for apology. You’ve made your bed – now you can damn well lie in it.’
Katie gasped. ‘My God, what sort of mother are you? I’m your only daughter – don’t you care anything about your own flesh and blood? And this is your grandchild I’m carrying!’
‘Grandchild!’ Vera spat out the word as if it disgusted her. She lowered her voice to a bitter hiss. ‘You have the brazen nerve to call it that! A bastard born out of wedlock is no grandchild of mine. Nor ever will be. And what sort of daughter have you turned out to be? Bringing shame and disgrace upon me, after all I’ve suffered for you. Turning all my hopes to dust and ashes. You slut. You’re no daughter of mine – not after this!’
She stepped back and the door slammed shut. Katie stood stunned in the darkness. The little cat
was still wailing and its cry sounded desolate, but it did not bring her to tears in sympathy. That woman who had been her mother did not bring out gentle emotions. Instead there was another hardening, something in her that had to grow strong if it was not to collapse. Her mother was unhinged in some way – what was all this rage and cruelty? All Vera cared about was herself, her own feelings: wasn’t that all she’d ever really cared about? Katie thought savagely. Always telling her what she could say and not say, what she should do.
Katie pulled herself straighter, feeling as if she was already looking back on her younger self from a new position. Damn her – if that was all Vera could say, the best she could do as a mother, then she could go to hell. She was filled with rage and a burning resolve. Damn her, and damn him too!
‘Well, so it’s just you now. Us.’ To her surprise she found herself talking to the baby inside her. ‘You and me. And we’ll damn well cope somehow – whatever it takes.’
She picked up the heavy case with an angry strength and lugged it slowly to the tram stop on the Stratford Road.
‘I knew it – I knew there was summat the matter.’
It was over a month since Katie had seen Ann, and they were sitting in their usual place with cups of tea and coffee on the table between them. Ann’s currant bun lay half eaten and forgotten on her plate since she had heard the momentous news. She leaned forward and Katie saw in her eyes, along with obvious curiosity, nothing but kindness and concern. It was such a relief, to know that she could confide in someone. Away with her airs and graces, she had thought. Away with all the secrecy. She needed help.
‘How far gone are you?’ Ann whispered. They were leaning close across the table.
‘About five months.’
‘Well . . .’ Ann sat back. ‘You won’t be able to keep that a secret much longer, will you? And – I mean . . .’ She looked confused for a moment, wondering if she’d got it all wrong. ‘I mean, when’s the wedding? I never knew there was anyone – you’re a flaming dark horse, you are! You’re not already married and not told me, are yer?’
‘No wedding.’ Katie looked into her lap. All the time now she was aware of the swell of her stomach. As she was slender, it showed quite a lot already. ‘He doesn’t want to know. Just turned his back on me.’
‘Oh my Lord.’ Ann’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, Katie – I can’t take this in. Whatever are you going to do?’
Katie looked up at her, her eyes hard, determined. ‘What else can I do? I’m Mrs O’Neill so far as everyone else knows. Thank God for the war – after all, I could have a husband anywhere or nowhere, and no one’s any the wiser. I’ve got a new job and a room – not far from you in fact.’
After a few nights staying with Enid, she had found a room to rent in Balsall Heath, within walking distance of where she worked. It was very small – no more than a boxroom, with space for a bed and a chair – but it would do.
‘My husband’s overseas in the army. I might even be a widow soon.’ She held out her left hand to show Ann the brass ring she was wearing on her third finger.
‘Oh, Katie,’ Ann said again.
‘I wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not at first. But . . .’ Her tough exterior cracked for a second. ‘I need – I can’t do all of this on my own.’
‘What about when it comes?’ Ann asked.
Katie shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to do. My landlady hasn’t spotted that I’m expecting yet, or I don’t think she’d have let me have the room. I’ll have to get out of there as soon as – well, certainly after it’s born.’
Ann reached across and touched her hand for a moment. Katie was moved. Though she was obviously astonished and frightened for her, not once had Ann shown any sign of passing judgement.
Katie blushed then, almost afraid to ask what she needed to.
‘Aren’t you ashamed to have anything to do with me? My mom is – why shouldn’t you be?’
‘Your mom?’
‘She’s disowned me.’ It was a terrible thing to have to admit. Tears welled in her eyes. She cried so easily these days. Beneath the smouldering anger that gave her strength, there was such deep hurt.
‘I’ll help you – any way I can,’ Ann said. ‘Look, where’re you living?’ When Katie told her she looked pleased. ‘Oh, that’s not far from us! Look, Katie, I can’t say I’m not surprised – you of all people. I can hardly take it in, to tell you the truth. But I don’t s’pose you wanted things to turn out like this, and if I was you I’d be frightened to death. I don’t envy you one bit. But we’re pals, aren’t we? Anything I can do to help, I will. And I’m sure our mom could ask around and see if she can gather up a few clothes for you. I mean . . .’ She hesitated. ‘You could come to us for a bit, if you needed to.’
Katie wiped her eyes, though more tears threatened to follow at this touching kindness. Ann was one of nine: how on earth did she think they could fit another one in!
‘Oh, Ann, it’s ever so good of you, but I wouldn’t dream of it.’
‘Well, who else’ve you got – what about the rest of your family?’
‘There isn’t any more of it. There’s Mom’s friend Enid – she’s kind, but I don’t like to put too much on her. It’s not fair.’
Ann leaned forward fiercely. ‘What about him? The father? What does he think he’s playing at?’
‘Playing,’ Katie said bleakly. ‘That was exactly what he was doing, and nothing else. And I, poor stupid little idiot, thought he actually cared about me. He did give me a bit of money.’
‘Mighty big of him,’ Ann said. ‘God Almighty, men – some of ’em want stringing up, that they do. But don’t you worry, love. I’ll find out who the midwife is down your way. No one need know you’re not married – we’ll all pull together.’
‘Miss O’Neill?’
Katie looked up from her typewriter to see Miss Poulter’s thin form looking down on her, framed by the long window behind her. Her hair was so tightly curled that it looked as if she set it with glue.
‘Mrs O’Neill,’ Katie corrected her.
‘Ah, yes.’ Miss Poulter’s mouth twitched as if she intended to smile, but it didn’t happen. ‘A word, please. Would you come outside?’
They walked across the office together, the other girls typing frantically as Miss Poulter cast her eye over them. Katie walked holding her back very straight, hoping the loose dress she had bought hid the swell of her at the front, but she knew really that it didn’t. There were only two months to go.
Out in the passage, the sound of the works below was louder. Miss Poulter led her to the end, by the window, then turned to face Katie with a distasteful expression on her face. In her clipped, well-spoken voice she said, ‘Miss, er, Mrs O’ Neill, I shall be blunt. Am I to understand that you are with child?’
Katie felt her heart race. She looked down, saw a cigarette stub crushed on the floor. ‘Yes, Miss Poulter.’
‘The other girls are talking, of course. You did not mention this when first we employed you?’
‘I didn’t know myself then,’ Katie lied. These days she knew she would do or say anything she had to. She had discovered something primitive in herself – for the baby, she would fight, even kill if necessary, she thought. A pink flush had gathered in Miss Poulter’s cheeks, and her eyes were blinking nervously behind her spectacles.
‘I’m afraid we shall have to let you go, as from today.’
Katie stared at her. She felt her legs go weak. ‘Pardon? I’m sorry – what d’you mean?’
‘Well, clearly I shall have to find someone else to fill your position, and really I feel you should go as soon as possible. We can’t have you round here in that condition. The men don’t like it, you know.’
Katie’s heart was thudding so hard with shock that she had to put her hand out to lean against the wall. She couldn’t lose her job, not yet! She was worried to death about how things would be once the baby was born. Even though she still had most of Simon’s money stored away in the bank, she was
terrified of not being able to work. She had to keep earning for as long as possible.
‘The men?’ she repeated faintly. ‘What men?’ Where she worked there were only Miss Poulter and the other girls in the typing pool.
‘The men in the works, of course – it’s not right to have the girls in the works flaunting their . . .’ She circled her hand in the direction of Katie’s stomach.
‘Flaunting?’ Katie held on tight to her temper. The men don’t like it! ‘Miss Poulter, I don’t think it’s fair to say I’m flaunting anything. Where we work there are no men, and I never have cause to go down into the works. Please, don’t lose me my job now. My husband is abroad, I think he’s in Italy, but I haven’t heard from him for such a long time . . .’ She managed to produce some tears, without difficulty as she was so worried. At nights she lay awake, feeling the child moving, and was swamped by fear. ‘I don’t have any family and I need this job. Things are different now with the war on, aren’t they? We all need to pull together in any way we can. Just let me carry on a little longer – at least another month, please. I’ll keep out of everyone’s way, like I usually do. Only don’t make me go now! You’ll be putting me in a terribly difficult position!’
Katie could see that Miss Poulter was coming round a little.
‘You should have told me,’ she said stiffly. ‘You haven’t been straight with me and I don’t appreciate that.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Katie said, demurely. ‘Only’ – she lowered her voice even further – ‘it’s a bit embarrassing to talk about.’
‘Quite so.’ Miss Poulter looked out of the window, down at the yard where a truck was turning, belching out exhaust fumes. ‘If you can be as discreet as possible, you can stay. But any trouble . . .’
‘Yes, Miss Poulter. Thank you.’
She followed the woman’s stiff walk back to their room, flushed with relief.
Twenty-Two
