by Katie King
Chapter Fifteen
Mr Ainsworth seemed exhausted, with charcoal shadows that looked like bruises under his eyes.
Peggy thought this wasn’t at all surprising as he had probably worked most of the night on the river, with time only to snatch a couple of hours sleep before he needed to go to his office for his paid employment.
She knew she wasn’t at her best either. The resulting comedown from the excitement of the hour that Jerry’s bombers attacked had left her feeling groggy still, and unable to focus easily.
And this was infuriating when she very much wanted to be at the top of her game for the solicitor’s visit, she thought as she gave a small sigh of frustration.
Peggy wriggled about in her chair as tried she to get more comfortable, and then she realised that actually she felt a little queasy too and this was probably caused by nervous anticipation over what she hoped would be a clarification of her position.
She hadn’t been able to face any breakfast other than the tea, and now she thought not eating anything hadn’t been a good idea as she felt peculiarly light-headed. Damn and blast!
Peggy wasn’t sure what she should think about the advice Mr Ainsworth had given Ted about not her getting her hopes up, although now that she was finally here she wanted to find out the truth of the matter as quickly as she could, for good or ill.
She had been asked by Mr Ainsworth to take a seat on the other side of the desk to him, with her back towards his office door as he faced it with the window behind him. His hair looked fluffy in the backlight of the window, and his ears bright pink from where she was sitting as the sun hit the back of his head. Peggy knew this meant her face would be illuminated by the window, and that presumably this helped Mr Ainsworth read his clients’ expressions so that he could better understand what they were trying to tell him.
She could hear the quick rat-a-tat of a secretary’s sit-up-and-beg typewriter in another room, and the faint ding of the bell when the end of each typed line was reached.
Mr Ainsworth’s desk was dusty and untidy, and Peggy noticed motes swirling in a shaft of weak sunlight coming in through the window, which badly needed a clean. The solicitor seemed quite a kindly man though, and as Peggy scrutinised the face that was regarding her very seriously, she decided that she could trust him.
They exchanged a pleasantry or two about Ted and how worried they’d been at his disappearance, and what good news it was that he wasn’t badly hurt. And then they agreed that Peggy would pay a non-returnable sum and for this she would have thirty minutes to set out her position and for Mr Ainsworth to offer his advice.
Once Peggy had given Mr Ainsworth the fee and he’d put it in his petty cash box, slipping the key back into his waistcoat pocket, she set out the situation between her and Bill as quickly and as clearly – and with as much essential detail – as she could, as she felt the clock was running. She had practised in her mind what she would say on the walk over to Mr Ainsworth’s offices, and now she was pleased she had done this as it definitely saved a lot of time.
The solicitor listened carefully to Peggy as she spoke, occasionally scribbling a few notes onto a legal pad.
He waited for Peggy to finish, and then he cleared his throat. But when his advice came, it was blunt.
‘Mrs Delbert, you are likely not to enjoy what I am about to say. I’m sorry to tell you that you are almost definitely going to be at a disadvantage should you take this to the divorce courts, and the situation is likely to remain that way no matter what you do. It seems as if you have grounds for a divorce, as least in the technical sense, under the Matrimonial Clauses Acts of 1923 and of 1937. But the technical tenets of the legalities do not always carry through to the perception of the court, nor their consequent decisions, and I cannot stress that strongly enough to you. This means that, while you might have a case in law, in the actual court you might appear before a judge who personally believes a wife should stick by her husband at all costs, and there will be an innate disadvantage to you in this.
‘In your case, should you choose to go further, then the courts are likely to demand further proof of Mr Delbert’s infidelity – the existence of the child alleged to be his but born to another woman will not necessarily be enough on its own if he doesn’t formally acknowledge the paternity, and your case is very much weakened if he is not named on the child’s birth certificate – which you say you don’t know – and thus you will need sworn testimony of at least one witness who has seen and is prepared to swear in court as to his adultery, and ideally more than one witness. This is why, in terms of a legal requirement, it will usually mean adultery going forward, rather than adultery that has already occurred, if you take my meaning,’ explained Mr Ainsworth.
Peggy frowned. He was quite long-winded but so far she understood what he was telling her. He was right: his assessment of her case wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
The solicitor continued, ‘Even if you could persuade Mr Delbert that he allow himself to be caught in a compromising position with a woman who is not you – most people arrange for a chambermaid to disturb them in a hotel room – the fact that you have been spending time with Dr Legard is likely to also be taken into account by the court, and very probably it will be extremely difficult for you to prove that you have not been a guilty party as well, no matter even if this is a completely innocent relationship, and so this might reduce your husband’s culpability to even-stevens. And if you set yourself up to be proved the guilty party – the adulteress as it were – it would, almost certainly, very much damage your own position in terms of the custody of your daughter.
‘Before you make your decision, you should bear in mind that in spite of there having been a fracas between Mr Delbert and Dr Legard, the courts are likely to pay more heed to the fact your husband is working, and is not and has never been either demonstrably cruel to you and/or your daughter – according to how the courts might define cruelty – nor has he been violent to you and/or your daughter, nor is he a habitual drinker or work-shy husband, and nor is he insane.
‘The court will almost definitely assume that the length of your marriage in excess of ten years suggests that it has generally been a happy one, as signified by your daughter of that union not yet being a year old.
‘It is inescapable too, in terms of the opinion of the courts, that Mr Delbert has never wavered from telling you that he wants still a relationship with you and that he is against the ending of your marriage. The courts would take note of all these factors, and I remind you once again that in addition, you would do well to pay great heed to the fact that some judges are very biased against women speaking out against their husbands, and that many judges view it as their duty to make divorce as difficult as possible.’
Peggy’s teeth were uncomfortably clenched, she realised, and then she felt an icy bead of sweat inch down her backbone.
But Mr Ainsworth was not finished yet, for he added, ‘And even if you are granted a divorce, it is no means certain that the courts would necessarily award you custody of your own child, especially should your husband contest the divorce petition; or, if the court so did do this, that your husband would subsequently be ordered to pay adequate support for your daughter. While in theory all of those events could be decided by the courts to be in your favour, in actual practice they might very well fall in favour of Mr Delbert’s position. You must remember that the courts are of the opinion that divorce should only ever viewed as a final option, and the system tends still to be skewed in favour of the husband’s interests, and in keeping marriages together. Furthermore, if Mr Delbert refused to hand over any upkeep, there’s maybe no recourse for you to make him, at least in practical terms. If you divorced and ended up with shared custody of your daughter you would be expected to discuss every situation to do with her with Mr Delbert, and in my experience that is rarely a happy outcome for any of the parties, including the child.
‘My advice to you, Mrs Delbert, would be very strongly that you should t
ry to mend your marriage, otherwise you are in for what can only be a time-consuming, painful and financially exacting experience, in which there is also very likely to be a scandal and resulting personal loss of reputation that you might very well find immensely hard to weather, and with no guarantee that you would get what you want, as your divorce might not be granted. And even if it is, there is a risk that you could still lose custody of your daughter if Mr Delbert were deemed the more reliable parent. And of course if Mr Delbert, as a serviceman, were to die during the war while you are married to him, then that makes it simple over you receiving his widow’s pension, even though that would be taken as taxable income.’
The tick of the grandfather clock at one side of the office seemed very loud as Peggy tried to absorb what she had just heard. Her position was worse than she had imagined.
Mr Ainsworth said, quite kindly, ‘Have I made the position clear to you, Mrs Delbert?’
Peggy felt numbed to her very core by the solicitor’s words, and she nodded blindly as if she were a puppet on a string as she managed to croak out, ‘Quite clear, thank you.’
Mr Ainsworth obviously had expected this reaction, presumably from having prior experience with similar cases, because he added in a more sympathetic way, ‘You can go to one hundred solicitors about this, I promise you Mrs Delbert, and ninety-nine will say exactly what I have. The one that doesn’t is not to be trusted, I fear.’
‘I see,’ said Peggy, standing up abruptly. ‘I won’t take up any more of your time then. But it sticks in my craw that a man faces little censure for not putting emotional investment into his marriage to anywhere near the same extent that his wife is expected to commit to the relationship, if I understand you correctly as to how the courts would be very likely to interpret my situation. Is this the case if Bill is named on the other baby’s birth certificate?’
‘Even in that eventuality, I would still remind you that the courts would not necessarily rule in your favour.’
Peggy had to fight herself not to stamp on the floor in temper at the solicitor’s reply. It was all so unfair!
‘It is not a perfect scenario, I agree,’ said Mr Ainsworth, his voice mild. Peggy thought this was because at this point of similar meetings, it was probably where some wronged wives would become furious and raise their voices.
‘Good day,’ was all that Peggy could manage at that point as she stood up abruptly; she tried to keep her voice reasonable, as it wasn’t the solicitor’s fault that it was a man’s world.
She felt impolite for not thanking the solicitor properly, and in her being what could only be described as curt with him with these final words. But she didn’t trust herself not to break down if she tried to say more.
Gathering her possessions with hands made shaky by the tide of emotion sweeping through her, Peggy left the office as quickly as she could, determined not to cry, and a last glimpse of Mr Ainsworth through the bannisters as she went down the stairs showed him looking concerned and sad.
Peggy stomped back to Jubilee Street as quickly as possible, and it was only once she was inside that she allowed herself to give in to a violent volley of sobs, an outburst that alternated with her punching the pillow on Connie’s bed as hard as she could, and that was how Barbara found her when she came home to tell Peggy she’d decided she was going to join Ted and the twins for the rest of the day, and they were going to have an afternoon out together, if Peggy didn’t mind.
Chapter Sixteen
While going with their father to his allotment sounded okay in theory, in practice it wasn’t a lot of fun, the twins agreed.
Ted realised quite early on that the difference between two types of onions that he was growing, or how he’d made the frames for the runner beans from odds and ends, wasn’t going to be enough to distract his two eleven-year-olds for long.
‘Can we go to the warehouse that fell down with you inside it?’ asked Connie.
‘I don’t think yer ma would approve,’ answered Ted. ‘I’d be for the ’igh jump if I took you there as she would think it would make you miserable.’
The twins thought about it, and then they nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly. Their father was right; Barbara absolutely wouldn’t want them to see where Ted could so easily have lost his life.
They decided to head to Greenwich Park and climb up to the Royal Observatory, and so they jumped on a red double-decker bus going that way.
The park wasn’t as either of the twins remembered it, as the bits of it on the flat had been given over to Grow Their Own cabbages and other root vegetables, but the hill to the Observatory was still grassy.
‘What a view,’ said a rather puffed Ted a while later as they stood right in front of the Observatory, looking across the River Thames and the dome of St Paul’s Cathedral, and on towards the northern part of London.
They sat down on the grass in order to take in the view better. It was spectacular and they could see for miles.
‘If you look at London quickly,’ said Jessie, ‘it looks normal. But if you really stare you can see where some of the bombs have dropped.’
Connie was silent for a moment. And then she said softly, ‘I wonder how many people died in all those buildings we can see when Jerry dropped those bombs? Are their families sorry we are fighting, do you think, Daddy?’
Ted’s first impulse was to encourage his daughter to think of happier things, but then he thought that perhaps he shouldn’t be too quick to do this. Sometimes not talking about things didn’t help, and the twins must feel strange and frightened by the harsh times they were all living through. The actions and decisions of the politicians and the grown-ups around them would help forge the world that Connie and Jessie would be living in and bringing up their own families in once they were grown-up, and perhaps, therefore, it was time for the current grown-ups to start listening to the younger generation and taking their thoughts and fears seriously.
Resolving to make sure that he and Barbara took the children for a proper treat later in the day so that they would go back to Harrogate with some nice memories of their surprise trip to London, Ted said, ‘That’s a thought, Connie. I’m sure there are lots of folks un’appy down there. Do you think we are right to be at war?’
‘Hitler seems a bully,’ Connie answered. ‘And in the playground if somebody stands up to a bully, often the bully is shown to be a coward. I think we are standing up to a bully.’
Ted felt proud of his daughter. ‘I couldn’t ’ave put it better meself,’ he told her, and Jessie’s nod told Connie he thought too that she’d been very clever.
Privately, Jessie didn’t wholeheartedly agree with Connie’s assessment, as the situation seemed more complicated. But Connie had a point, most definitely, he was happy to concede.
Ted put an arm around the shoulders of each twin, and looking very serious, he said, ‘What I do know is yer ma an’ me are right lucky to ’ave such good ’uns as you two. I’m right touched you tried to come an’ find me – I’ll never forget that. But it was a lucky day that none o’ it were worse. An’ you must both promise me an’ yer ma that you’ll never do this again. Jubilee Street ain’t safe for you, an’ we don’t want to worry about you. Do you hear me? An’ you both promise me yer won’t be getting’ up ter this malarkey again? You’re the most precious things in our lives an’ we couldn’t bear it if anything bad were to happen to you.’
The twins nodded they had heard, and they each promised their father very soberly not to run away from Harrogate again to come back to London.
Then, to lighten the mood, Ted said, ‘Now, who wants a florin?’
And, no surprises, naturally both Connie and Jessie wanted a florin, and by the time Ted had placed the silver coins in their hands, all three of them were smiling at each other, even though the twins’ grins were slightly tempered by them realising that they had just made a vow to their father that at some point in the future might be difficult for them to keep.
But then Jessie noticed th
at Connie’s fingers were crossed, and he knew his had been too. And wasn’t it the rules of vows that if one’s fingers were crossed when making them, it wasn’t totally binding as a promise?
Jessie and Connie shared a look. It said that they would do as their father asked, and certainly would while the bombing held. But in the coming years, it might be that they wouldn’t be prepared to honour his wish for all time.
They helped a stiff-jointed Ted stand up, and as they walked down the hill, they smiled at each other, their eyes shining at the thought of having two bob of pocket money all of their own to spend exactly as they pleased. It was a rare, rare luxury.
Chapter Seventeen
All while the twins were out with Ted and Barbara, Peggy devoted herself to getting quite – well, extremely, truth to tell – tipsy back in Jubilee Street.
Before they had left, Barbara had done her best to jolly a teary Peggy out of the fug she’d fallen into after seeing Mr Ainsworth, mainly by repeating again and again that it must be all very irritating for Peggy, but at least she knew the divorce position for certain at last, and this meant that now she could make her plans accordingly; and of course she and Holly never had to live with Bill again; and anyone with an ounce of intelligence could see that Bill was a total fool, that much was obvious; and Peggy should never forget that all the family and everyone at Tall Trees loved – no, simply adored – Peggy and Holly; don’t you dare let the thought of Bill get you down … And so on.
Barbara felt quite weary after not too much of this, and her cheeks ached with her putting on a smiley, brave face for Peggy’s benefit. But irritating as it all was, Barbara kept going, as she knew that Peggy would have done exactly the same for her, should their positions have been reversed.
