by Nancy Revell
Helen nudged him playfully and proceeded to tell him how she had set up her accidental meeting with her mother at the Grand, gleaned the necessary information, then gone home and written a letter to Mr Pickering, asking for his assistance in a ‘most delicate matter’, suggesting a date and time. Mr Pickering had sent a brief but courteous reply saying that it would indeed be possible and that he – or someone from the firm – would be there at the yard at the designated time. He had ended the letter by thanking her for considering Pickering & Sons and hoped that they would be able to be of assistance.
‘So,’ Helen widened her eyes, ‘you can imagine my surprise when a young woman stepped into my office?’
‘Interesting,’ Dr Parker said. Only Helen could find herself a private investigator – and a woman private eye at that.
‘We had a slight locking of verbal horns, but once we’d each established where the other stood, it was fine.’
Dr Parker smiled to himself. He wondered what the verbal ‘locking of horns’ was about, but didn’t want to interrupt Helen’s flow. He sat back and took a sip of his beer, content to simply sit and listen. And yes, to enjoy losing himself in those emerald eyes of hers.
As Helen told him about her meeting with the mousy-looking young girl called Georgina, who was ‘anything but mousy in character’, he realised that he had now accepted that Helen could never be his. Like some pathetic medieval knight he was doomed to love from afar.
‘I’m seeing her again in two weeks’ time,’ Helen said.
‘Well, it will certainly be interesting to see what she finds out, although I have to ask, will you be prepared for what might be unearthed?’
‘You sound like my Miss Marple,’ Helen said. ‘She asked me the same question.’
She looked at John and smiled.
‘Of course I’ll be all right. Besides, I have to know now, either way. It’s imperative for my mental health.’ She laughed and took a sip of her vodka and lemon. ‘Talking of which, how’s your psychologist getting along at the asylum?’
‘Yes, yes,’ Dr Parker said, ‘it’s all working out very well. Very advantageous for me, to be honest.’
‘Because?’ Helen asked.
‘Because I’ve got one patient in particular – a young lad called Jacob – who is just about physically well enough to be discharged, but far from well up here.’ Dr Parker tapped his head. ‘He’s adamant that he won’t go to the asylum – even for a short spell. So, Dr Eris has kindly agreed to see him at the Ryhope.’
They carried on chatting, trying to fit in all their news, aware that John might be called back at any time.
‘So, there wasn’t too much damage from the air raid?’ John asked. He’d been relieved that the bombs and incendiaries that had landed the other night had done so on the south docks, well away from Helen on the north side.
‘It was one of those delayed-action bombs,’ Helen said. ‘Exploded just before five in the morning – eight hours after it landed. Caused quite a lot of damage to the gas main and to one of the main coal staithes. But no one was hurt, which was the main thing.’
They chatted as they always did about the latest war updates. The papers had been full of news that the RAF had started a major bombing campaign on the Ruhr in an effort to bring Germany’s industry to its knees, and that Jerry had lost the Battle of Stalingrad. The Allies had finally taken control of Libya, and they both agreed that for once it felt as though the war was going in their favour.
‘Oh, that’s what I meant to tell you,’ Helen said, glancing up at the clock and knowing she would have to catch the last train back into town very soon. ‘I knew there was something else … Guess who my Miss Marple knows?’
Dr Parker smiled. Helen’s private investigator, he knew, would now forever be referred to as ‘my Miss Marple’.
‘I really have no idea,’ he said, looking at his watch. ‘Why don’t you tell me on the way to the station? We don’t want you missing your train and having to rough it by staying at my humble abode.’
It was on the tip of Helen’s tongue to say that it really wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had to, but she didn’t. The words of her mother resounded loudly in her head. She was fine as a friend, but there was no getting away from it – she was ‘soiled goods’.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sunday 14 February
Dear Tommy,
I wanted you to be the first to know –
I have just seen Dr Murphy (he kindly agreed to see me today because we’ve been doing so much overtime at the yard) and he has confirmed –
I am pregnant!
I didn’t want to tell you that I had my suspicions in case it turned out to be a false alarm.
But I am!
Dr Murphy reckons I’m about two months gone – well, eight weeks here or there.
Our first child! I’m so excited!
And so happy!
I know you will be too.
I am writing this on Valentine’s Day and couldn’t think of a better Valentine’s surprise to give you.
I’m sending you so much love.
No. Let me rephrase that – we’re sending you so much love.
Stay safe.
I miss you.
I love you,
Polly x
PS I will write to you again tomorrow! And the next day. And the next …
PPS I know it’s still early (and Dr Murphy said nothing is ever certain when it comes to having babies), but what about Arthur if it’s a boy?
Polly sealed the letter, kissed it and hurried out to the GPO.
‘Get there quickly,’ she muttered as she pushed it into the postbox. ‘Actually, just get there,’ she added.
She then turned and walked back to Tatham Street.
This time her pace wasn’t quite so fast. She needed a little time to think about how she was going to tell everyone.
Bel in particular.
‘Where have you been?’ Bel asked. She was setting the table for a later than usual Sunday dinner.
Polly looked around.
‘Blimey, I’ve never known it to be this quiet on a Sunday afternoon. Where is everyone?’
‘Your ma’s just popped the dumplings in the stew and has gone next door to Beryl’s for a cuppa, and Joe’s where Joe always is.’
‘Home Guard?’ Polly asked.
Bel nodded. ‘And my ma’s where she always is—’
‘The Tatham?’ Polly said.
Another nod.
‘And little Miss Muffet is in Arthur’s old room with Tramp and Pup, playing with her toys. She’s a little subdued because we went to see Pat in the Winter Gardens yesterday.’ Pat was a blue macaw and Lucille’s most favourite bird in the whole world. ‘And Pat wasn’t there.’ Bel pulled a glum face. ‘LuLu’s been desperate to know where the bloody bird is, and we just heard from Beryl that Pat is dead.’
Bel sat down at the kitchen table and poured herself a cup of tea. ‘Pat managed to survive the Winter Gardens getting bombed, but there’s been no soft fruit available, so the poor thing’s dropped off its perch. Literally. Beryl said most of the exotic birds have now died off because the kind of fruit they need to survive is non-existent.’
Polly suddenly felt tearful, which was ridiculous. Crying over a dead bird when there were men being killed every day – probably every hour of every day.
‘Oh, Pol, you look as devastated as LuLu. Sit down and have a cuppa.’
‘I’m just being ridiculous,’ Polly said.
‘Maybe you’re just feeling a bit emotional at the moment,’ Bel said, pouring the tea and adding milk.
Polly smiled at Bel. This was the perfect opportunity. Just do it.
‘Actually, I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘Oh yes?’ Bel said, her attention focused on her best friend.
‘Well …’
Polly hesitated.
‘I’m pregnant.’
Bel’s face lit up and a huge smile spread across her
face. She jumped out of her chair.
‘Come here,’ she said, putting her arms out. ‘I thought you might be.’
Polly stood up and the pair hugged.
‘This is the best news ever,’ Bel said. ‘I’m so happy for you.’ She stepped back. ‘And for me too.’
Polly looked at her. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really!’ Bel said. ‘I’m going to have a little niece or nephew to coo over. LuLu is finally going to get another little playmate. She keeps complaining that all her friends have brothers and sisters to play with and demanding to know why hasn’t she?’
Polly gave Bel a hug. ‘That’s why I thought this might be – I don’t know – a bit difficult for you. And Joe.’ Polly looked at her sister-in-law. ‘I know how much you both want to have a child together.’
‘Oh, Polly,’ said Bel, sitting back down, ‘that’s completely different. I’m gutted I haven’t fallen pregnant, but that in no way spoils how excited I am about you expecting. Honestly, you must believe me … I will fall, I’m sure of it. It’s just, for whatever reason, Him up there has decided it’s not the right time.’ She smiled. ‘Whereas this is the perfect time for you. And, most important of all, I’m going to be an aunty for the first time!’
Just then, hearing her mother’s excited voice, Lucille came hurrying into the room, closely followed by the two dogs. She looked at her mammy and then at her aunty.
‘Come here, LuLu.’ Bel stretched out her arms and picked up her daughter, putting her on her lap. ‘Aunty Polly has some good news. She’s going to have a baby, which means you’re going to have a cousin.’
Lucille looked again at her mammy and across the table at her aunty.
‘When?’ she demanded.
The two women chuckled.
‘It takes a while,’ Bel explained. ‘It has to grow in Aunty Polly’s tummy first.’
Lucille shuffled off her mother’s lap and went over to her aunty. She looked at Polly’s stomach.
‘There?’ She pointed at Polly’s tummy. ‘It grows in there?’ Her little face was full of wonder.
Suddenly the front door slammed shut. It was windy outside. A short blast of cold air made its way down the hallway and into the kitchen, followed by Agnes.
‘Nana, Nana!’ Lucille ran to greet her grandmother.
‘Well, this is better …’ Agnes groaned with the exertion of picking up her granddaughter. ‘No more tears over poor Pat, eh?’
Lucille shook her head and declared, ‘Aunty Polly’s having a baby in her tummy!’
‘Is she now?’ Agnes did not look surprised.
Polly felt herself flush. ‘I am, Ma. I’m expecting. Dr Murphy’s confirmed it.’ She stood up and took Lucille off her mother. ‘I wanted to tell you myself. I was just telling Bel …’ Polly let her voice trail off.
‘And are yer happy about it?’ Agnes asked, looking at her daughter’s serious face.
‘Oh, yes, Ma, I’m thrilled to bits,’ Polly said, her face lighting up.
‘Well then,’ Agnes said, ‘if you’re happy, that’s all that matters.’
She walked over to the range and opened the door to check on the stew, letting out a waft of hot air. ‘I’m guessing yer about two months gone? Give or take?’
Polly nodded.
‘Let’s get yer through the next month without any hiccups, eh?’ Agnes said, bending over to pat Tramp and Pup, now curled up in their basket. She stood up straight and stretched her back.
‘I don’t know, yer auld mother’s always the last to know,’ she said, shaking her head and walking into the scullery.
Neither Polly nor Bel could see the smile that had just spread across Agnes’s face.
Nor the tears that had started to well up in her eyes.
When Polly heard Joe come in late from his Home Guard duties, she tiptoed out of her bedroom and into the kitchen where she knew he would be having a cuppa – perhaps even a little Scotch – before he went to bed. His leg still pained him and the whisky helped him sleep.
‘Hey, Joe,’ Polly whispered as she crept into the still-warm kitchen. Her ma kept the fire in the range going for as long as she could, knowing that Joe would need a little warmth when he got back in.
‘Aye, aye, little sis. What you doing up so late?’
‘Trouble sleeping,’ Polly said, watching him pour a small measure of single malt into a glass.
He looked at the bottle before he put it back in the sideboard.
‘Feels wrong having a nightcap without Arthur.’ He smiled sadly. ‘He used to do what you’ve just done. Come out in his nightgown and slippers, have a drink and a little chat.’
‘Really?’ Polly never knew that.
Polly went to pour herself a glass of water and sat down at the kitchen table.
‘I miss him,’ she said. ‘Still feels odd him not being in the house.’
‘I know, like he’s just nipped out and is due back in any moment.’
Polly smiled.
‘I think Lucille’s still a bit teary about him “going to heaven”. Bel said she got upset today when she heard Pat the blue macaw had died. She said LuLu mentioned Arthur a few times in between the tears. I think she blames heaven.’
‘Depriving her of all the things she loves,’ Joe mused. ‘Anyway, here’s to you, old man.’ He lifted his glass. ‘I miss our chats.’
Polly raised her glass of water.
‘Me too.’
They both sipped their drinks in silence for a moment.
‘I’ve some good news,’ Polly said finally. ‘I think Arthur would be pleased.’
‘Oh, aye?’ Joe said. ‘What’s that?’
‘Well,’ she said, taking a deep breath. She kept getting slight palpitations every time she thought about the reality of becoming a mother.
‘You’re going to be an uncle.’
Joe jumped up. Polly saw a flash of pain in his face that was immediately replaced by a wide smile. ‘That’s brilliant news! I’m so chuffed fer yer, Pol!’ He put his arms out and gave his younger sister a big bear hug. ‘Does Tommy know?’
‘I’ve just put a letter in the post to him.’
‘He’ll be on cloud nine, he will. As Arthur would be.’ Joe grabbed his stick, which had been hooked on the back of his chair, and eased himself back down.
‘Yer gonna take it easy at work, though?’
‘Of course,’ Polly said. ‘You sound like Ma. She’s been giving me all the dos and don’ts over dinner. I don’t think she wants to properly celebrate until I get to three months, when she says “the bab’ll be nicely settled in”.’ Polly put on a mock-Irish accent, making Joe laugh.
‘Ah, she’ll be chuffed ’n all. At long last, another grandchild.’
They looked at each other. Both thinking the same thought.
‘Do yer think Bel will be all right?’ Polly asked. ‘I told her first, and she seemed fine. Genuinely happy.’
‘She will’ve been,’ Joe said, his face serious now, ‘but I know she’s gutted she’s not fallen herself. She doesn’t show it much, but I’ve caught her crying a few times when it comes to, yer know, that time of the month.’
Polly took a sip of her water.
She looked at Joe, who suddenly started to smile.
‘I know someone else who’d be over the moon,’ he said.
Polly knew who Joe was talking about; he was never far from her brother’s thoughts.
Tears stung her eyes.
‘Teddy,’ she said simply.
Another one that heaven had taken.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Monday 15 February
‘Time to put the earplugs in,’ Gloria joked as she and Polly walked across the yard towards their squad.
It was ten minutes before the start of the day’s shift. Time for a quick chat before the noise of building ships overwhelmed and blotted out any chance of a normal conversation.
‘Morning, everyone!’ Polly felt bursting with energy. She’d slept like a log last n
ight after her midnight chat with Joe. She’d had the most wonderful dreams that she was with Tommy and was still carrying that lovely feeling with her now.
‘Someone looks perky,’ Martha said, adding a few more bits of coal to their five-gallon barrel fire.
‘Actually,’ Polly looked at Martha, and then at Rosie, Dorothy and Angie, ‘I’ve some good news.’
‘Yer’ve not found another newspaper for us to study, have yer?’ Angie said. She had been amazed at how many different types of daily papers there were.
Polly chuckled. ‘No, I’ve got my own breaking news today.’
Dorothy took a deep breath in anticipation.
‘I’m pregnant!’ Polly said, her eyes sweeping the women’s faces.
Gloria immediately put her fingers in her ears, just in time to block out what could only be described as a full-on, high-pitched scream coming out of Dorothy’s mouth. All the workers within a hundred-yard radius automatically looked to see if help was needed. When they saw it was Dorothy, they turned back and continued smoking and chatting.
‘Congratulations!’ Rosie gave Polly a hug. ‘Although I’m gutted. What am I going to do without you?’
‘I’m going to work for as long as possible,’ Polly said, looking as optimistic as she sounded.
Dorothy practically pushed Rosie out of the way and flung her arms around her workmate.
‘I’m ecstatic!’ she said. ‘This is the best news ever!’
‘Aye,’ Angie said, ‘but just dinnit gan into labour in the middle of a bloody air raid like Glor did.’
Everyone laughed.
‘I’ve still not gor over having to cut the cord. Put me off childbirth fer life,’ Angie said.
Dorothy nodded her agreement. ‘Yes, I’ll second that. Having babies is for everyone else.’
‘Just as well,’ Martha said, waiting patiently in line to give Polly a congratulatory hug. ‘’Cos for starters, you’re not married, and secondly, we can’t lose another one of our squad, otherwise we won’t be a squad.’
Polly hugged Martha. ‘Honestly, you’re not going to lose me. I’ll be off for a few weeks after the baby’s born and then I’ll be back again.’
