Into The Unknown

by Lorna Peel

  “And I you, Charlie,” she replied. “Will you accompany me to the cab?”

  They walked off the platform and Kate turned to her mother.

  “Where’s Daddy?” she asked.

  “He had to go into work today, Kate.”

  “Had to? Mummy… the things he said to me.”

  “I know.” They walked out of the station to a waiting cab. Her father hadn’t even left her mother the car to pick them up from the station. “I heard. I’ve never seen him so angry, Kate. We’ll talk about this later.”

  “I’d rather talk about it now, Mummy. Daddy will only shout.”

  Her mother didn’t reply, and Kate climbed into the back of the cab beside her grandmother for the short drive home. She smiled, looking out at the sea. Nothing had changed. Her old home was a two-storey detached stone house standing on Ballycarn’s main street which ran down to, and ended, at the sea.

  “Dinner’s in the oven,” her mother announced as they went into the house. “Stew. Leave your suitcases in the hall; you can take them up to your room later.”

  Room? Kate was left staring at her mother’s back as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen at the back of the house. One room with only one bed?

  All eyes rested on her as she entered the large kitchen. It hadn’t changed either. The large table and six chairs still stood in the middle of the floor, the dresser by the door to the back garden, and her grandmother’s chair in the corner near the range.

  Seeing the disappointment in her grandmother’s face, Kate turned to her mother who was checking the stew and sighed. Mrs Sheridan was still having to cook on the solid fuel range rather than on a modern electric or gas cooker. Her mother gave the stew a stir, put the lid back on the pot, and returned it to the oven.

  “Is it kicking yet?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Kate replied with a frown. “Can you at least try to be happy for me, Mummy?”

  “Oh, Kate.” She raised a trembling hand to her forehead. “When you went to England I didn’t even think this could happen to you. How stupid of me. Your Daddy still sees you as the eighteen-year-old girl we waved off at the station, too.”

  “I don’t think Charlie or I thought this could happen, especially as we were being so careful.”

  Her mother didn’t reply but turned to Charlie instead. “You are going to stand by her?”

  “Yes, I am, Mrs Sheridan,” he replied. “Kate and I are going to have a beautiful baby.”

  “What are you going to do?” Granny Norah asked, making Kate cringe. Oh, God, she wasn’t going to ask Charlie if they were going to marry, was she?

  There was a dreadful silence before he replied, “I am going to provide for Kate and the baby. I’m going back to the RAF if they’ll have me.”

  “But you can’t fly?”

  Kate winced. Charlie didn’t need to be told that.

  He blinked a few times and took a deep breath before answering. “There are many things a person can do in the RAF besides fly. I know I’ll never fly again, Mrs Sheridan.”

  He spoke with such calm and dignity that Granny Norah flushed, went to the dresser and opened the cutlery drawer.

  “Let me show you to your room.” Kate’s mother broke the awkward silence, and she followed her upstairs, Charlie tailing behind with their suitcases. They were sharing the guest room at the front of the house, just across the landing from Kate’s old bedroom. It housed a very old double bed, a chest of drawers and a huge wardrobe.

  “There’s not much point in expecting you to sleep in separate rooms,” they were told as Charlie put the suitcases on the bed. “Come down when you’re ready.”

  When the door closed, they stared at each other in consternation and Charlie pulled his suitcase off the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Can you imagine the questions we’ll get if they found out? Especially from Daddy and Granny Norah. No, it’s all right. It’s a big enough bed.”

  “What time does your father get home from work?”

  “It used to be any time between half five and six.” She sighed, sitting down on the bed. It was going to be awful.

  “Now, remember what I told you.” Charlie leaned over the bed. “He’ll rant and rage. Let him get it off his chest. Then, hopefully, we’ll be able to talk to him properly. All right?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Kate and Charlie were in the kitchen, her grandmother was still setting the table and her mother was cutting a loaf of soda bread into slices when the front door closed.

  Kate’s heart began to pound and Charlie held a finger to his lips as the hall door opened and Mr Sheridan came in. Kate’s mouth was dry as he glared at Charlie, taking in his eye and how he stood, favouring his good leg before turning to her. He met her eyes with such a stern expression that she shook. His gaze then moved down to Bump.

  “I never thought a daughter of mine would be an unmarried mother. Spreading her legs for an Englishman who then turns loony. Did you think it would make him feel better? Or are condoms being rationed now, so he thought a quickie with my daughter would be all right?”

  Her father was standing with his back to Charlie, but the latter part of his speech was directed savagely at him.

  Both Kate’s hands were splayed over Bump and, looking past her father, she saw Charlie’s face was as white as a sheet.

  “Well?” her father roared. “Have you nothing to say for yourself, Katherine?”

  He rarely addressed her by her full name and she shook her head. “No, Daddy, I think you’ve said it all.”

  “Don’t you dare give cheek to me. You’re not past being put across my knee.”

  “You’d-you’d hurt me, Daddy?” she stammered. “You’d hurt me and our baby?”

  “Our?” Her father leapt on the word, spinning around to face Charlie. “I should have castrated you the moment I saw you. Do you realise what you’ve done? You’ve ruined her life.”

  “I fully realise what I’ve done, Mr Sheridan,” Charlie replied in the same level tone he had used to Granny Norah. “But Kate and I are going to make the most of it. I would never hurt either Kate or the baby.”

  “So you’re going to marry her, then?” Mr Sheridan demanded and Kate had to lean back against the table.

  “No,” Charlie replied and Kate knew her father couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said no.”

  “Oh, well, now.” Mr Sheridan threw his arms up in the air. “I’ve heard everything now.”

  “I won’t marry him, Daddy,” she spoke out, and Charlie looked at her in surprise.

  “Why not?” her father snapped. “I’ve never been so ashamed.”

  “You haven’t?” she challenged. “I won’t marry anyone just for politeness’ sake – for show. You’re just afraid of gossip. Charlie is going to stand by me, be grateful for that.”

  “I don’t know you anymore,” Mr Sheridan whispered.

  “No, Daddy, I don’t think you ever did know me. You sent me away to boarding school when I was twelve. I didn’t want to go, but you made me. That school – I hated it – but I had to go because it was the place to go. I hated it, Daddy, but you never listened to me. Then you wanted me to go to America simply because it wasn’t England. Well, I’m glad Mummy got her way in something. I’m glad I went to England because I met Charlie there and I wasn’t answerable to you anymore.”

  She turned away, never having dared speak to him like that before. Her mother helped her to sit down and stood behind her, stroking her hair.

  “Why did you come if you hate me so much?” her father asked.

  “I don’t hate you, Daddy. It’s just that I had to tell you these things to your face. It’s useless over the telephone and I do want you to get to know me – and Charlie – even if you can’t like him. But he is the father of my baby – your grandchild. We’ll only be
here a month. Unless you want us to go now?”

  Mr Sheridan looked at Bump for only the second time and sighed and shook his head. “No, I don’t want you to go, Kate. Is supper ready?” he asked his wife.

  “Five minutes,” she croaked, returning to the range and he nodded.

  “I’ll go and change my clothes.”

  When the hall door closed all three rushed to Kate, but Charlie reached her first.

  “Do you want a drink of water? A lie down?” His anxious expression made her want to cry.

  “No, I’m all right,” she said, a tear trickling down her cheek. “Are you?”

  “I’m fine,” he replied with a little smile. “I’m just concerned about you and Bump.”

  “Bump?” her mother echoed and Kate smiled through her tears.

  “I hate calling the baby ‘it,’ so I call it Bump.” The name sounded ridiculous now.

  Thankfully, her mother laughed, breaking the unbearable tension. “Bump. Oh, but Kate, you shouldn’t have spoken to him like that.”

  “Why not?” She pulled a stubborn face.

  “Because he is your daddy,” her grandmother told her. “You are right, though. He knows that. He just hates being told.”

  “The truth hurts. Well, hopefully, it will sink in.”

  “What will?” The door to the hall had opened and closed and her father stood staring at them all, his jacket and shoes exchanged for a cardigan and slippers.

  “What I just told you, Daddy.”

  “Are you all right?” He sounded concerned and Charlie got to his feet, startling Mr Sheridan.

  “How dare you ask that,” he shouted. “If you listened to a word Kate said, or read her letters, you’d know she was in hospital not long ago. She could have lost the baby. She came back from telephoning you on Friday so upset. I don’t care what you say about me, but I will not have you calling Kate or the baby those names, and I won’t have you upsetting her. Do I make myself clear?”

  Kate had never seen Charlie so angry. He was considerably taller than her father and she watched her father’s face. He glanced at her then back up at Charlie and nodded.

  “Good.” Charlie stood back from him. “Now, can we all start again?”

  “Yes,” Kate’s mother replied firmly and began serving the stew.

  The evening, in the immaculate parlour at the front of the house, passed at a snail’s pace. Kate, her mother and Charlie were squashed together on the floral sofa. Her grandmother sat knitting in a matching armchair positioned so close to the open fire Kate wondered how the wool wasn’t singed. Mr Sheridan was content to sit in the other armchair in a corner and read the local newspaper.

  The only conversation was about Toby and Clive’s exams and how they were now getting on in the RAF. Kate was relieved when bedtime came, even if it did mean sharing a room – and a bed – with Charlie. Maybe it would be a good thing. She smiled. Bump would have both parents close and might even get a cuddle.

  Returning to their bedroom from the bathroom, she could feel Charlie watching her undressing, even though she saw he tried not to. She stole glances at him as he stood naked beside the bed, reaching for his pyjamas. He had a beautiful body, despite his scarred leg and eye. All the weight he had put on was now gone. She lingered for as long as she dared before putting her nightdress on and getting into bed.

  “I think the worst is over now,” he said as he got in beside her. The bed squeaked and sagged and she began to slide towards him. “I hope.”

  “This old bed and mattress have been here for years.” She managed to stop her slide but was very close to him. “But, yes, I hope so.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry.” He began twisting and turning in the bed but each time the bed and mattress protested. “Maybe if we swap sides?”

  They did, but it happened again and they both started to laugh.

  “It doesn’t matter.” She lay down and he lay beside her, his body pressed to hers, or was it that hers was pressed to his?

  “I didn’t realise I was still so heavy. You’re not uncomfortable, are you?”

  It depends what you mean by uncomfortable, she thought. Earlier, the thought of them sharing a room – never mind a bed – made her feel very uncomfortable, but now? She shook her head.

  “No. Are you?” she asked.

  “No. Can I touch Bump?”

  “Yes.”

  “I meant every word I said to your father,” he told her.

  “I know you did. Thank you.”

  “Please don’t keep thanking me, Kate. I’d do it for you and Bump regardless.”

  “And you managed to silence him. May I offer you my congratulations?”

  “You may.”

  He laughed and moved his hand up and down on her belly. It felt delicious. Any higher and he would be at her breasts. Any lower… She closed her eyes. Oh, what sweet dreams she’d have tonight.

  When she woke, the forehead of the man in her dreams was touching hers. His nose was touching hers. His cheek was touching hers. His lips were nearly touching hers. His hand was still resting on Bump. She exhaled a happy sigh, didn’t move a muscle, and closed her eyes. Unfortunately, when she woke again later, he had turned away from her.

  They didn’t get up late, but Kate’s father had already left for work. She grimaced as she helped her mother with breakfast, wondering if it was going to be the cold shoulder for the rest of their stay.

  “Why don’t you both go for a walk along the beach?” Her mother seemed determined to be cheerful. “Show Charlie the Atlantic Ocean. The sea air will be good for you and Bump.”

  “Do you want to?” She turned to Charlie, who nodded.

  “Is there anything I can do, Mrs Sheridan?”

  “Yes, Charlie, eat in a minute,” her mother replied with a smile.

  Walking down to the seafront, Kate took a deep breath and smiled at Charlie, but he didn’t return one.

  “I think your father is determined to be awkward,” he told her. “He must have left the house at eight, or shortly after it.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I feel so sorry for Mummy, she’s trying so hard. So is Granny Norah. Maybe if she spoke to him?”

  “What, put him across her knee? He can’t go on ignoring us. Especially you and Bump.” He kissed his hand and placed it over her stomach. “Let’s go down onto the sand,” he added, taking her arm and they made their way slowly over the pebbles.

  “Daddy taught me to swim here, in the Atlantic. Will you teach Bump to swim in the river at Market Kirby?”

  “With pleasure. Do you want to walk along a bit?”

  “Yes,” she replied and walked on a few paces before stopping abruptly. “Oh.” She groaned and began unbuttoning her coat to get at Bump. “Oh, God.”

  “Kate?” Charlie cried. “Do you want me to get a doctor? An ambulance?”

  “No.” Taking his hands, she placed them over Bump. “Can you feel?” She laughed. “Can you, Charlie?”

  “Oh, my God, yes.” His face broke into a delighted grin. “It’s kicking like nobody’s business. Does it hurt, Kate?”

  She shook her head as Bump stopped and she took the opportunity to lean against Charlie. “Bump’s gone back to sleep,” she whispered and smiled up at him.

  “Has Bump kicked hard before?”

  “Yes, but nothing like that. I’m sorry if I scared you, it just gave me a fright.”

  He pulled her coat around her and buttoned it up. “That felt extraordinary. Do you want to go back?”

  “No, I’m fine now. Well, Bump’s certainly let us know that he or she’s there as if we needed to know.”

  “Do you think Bump will be a boy or a girl?”

  She shrugged. “What would you like?”

  “I’d like…” He stood in front of her, keeping the wind off her. “A healthy baby. I don’t mind what sex it is, as long as you and it are healthy. When Clive and Toby told me you were pregnant, it was a shock. But when I was told in the hospital that you’d bled,
I thought that was it. My mother had a miscarriage when I was five. That’s why there’s such a large age gap between Clive and me.”

  “I did wonder if there was something.”

  “Yes.” He sighed and began to play with the curls escaping from under her hat. “She was well on into the pregnancy, too, and was quite ill. Clive was a bit of a miracle and I couldn’t help but think, ‘Oh, God, it’s come through me, it’s going to happen again’. Thank God it didn’t.” Getting down on his knees, he began to kiss Bump. “Thank God the two of you are all right. Sorry,” he muttered getting awkwardly to his feet.

  “Don’t be silly.” She could feel herself blushing. “I’m glad you’re so concerned about the two of us. You’ll be a good father, Charlie.”

  “I’ll make sure I am, I promise. And if it’s a boy and goes on kicking like that, I’ll teach him how to play football, too.”

  “And if it’s a girl?” She smiled.

  “Then she’ll be as beautiful as her mother.”

  Kate’s smile faded. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Do you want to walk on?”

  “What?” She’d been hoping for and expecting a kiss. “Oh, yes, before it starts to rain.”

  She strolled on with him, feeling the same pang of disappointment she had felt all those years ago when, in the beginning, he’d fail to kiss her.

  Maybe he felt it was up to her to kiss him, that if he did she might be frightened, expecting the worst. He couldn’t be more wrong. She knew how sorry he was. His whole approach to her, as well as his words, told her so.

  She must choose the right moment. He must know she really did love him and it wasn’t a pretence for the sake of the baby. A few months ago, she had been prepared to carry on without him. But that had been a few months ago.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  This bloody bed, Charlie thought, as it creaked and groaned under his weight and Kate slid towards him again. They’d been in Ireland a week and they had tried everything. They’d turned the mattress around, turned it upside down and turned it around again, but no – the mattress sagged – and it was going to continue to sag. It was so old, St Patrick had probably slept on it.