Later that night, as they lay in bed, Emily in the crook of Dessie’s arm, they were both silent, listening for the soft breathing of their son coming from the next room.
‘How do you feel?’ asked Dessie. ‘You seemed happier tonight than you have for a long time.’
‘I was. I am. I hadn’t realised that a lie weighed so much. It’d pulled me down, to be honest, made me panicky, horrible. I’ll never tell a lie again, I promise.’ She reached up and kissed her husband gently on the lips.
‘Did tonight’s gin and orange do the trick?’ He had turned onto his side and spoke into her ear as his lips found her neck and his hands her breasts.
Emily felt an immediate response along with a light-headedness she was unused to, brought on by the extra-large gin. ‘Oh, I think it did,’ she laughed as her own hands wandered down towards his belly and below. Dessie groaned with pleasure as he gently pushed Emily’s legs apart and then they both stopped dead as a little voice cried out from the next room, ‘Ma, Ma, Mama, Ma,’ for the very first time.
Chapter 17
Dana packed her sewing box into her bag just as Beth and Pammy walked into her room. She was off for the day and so was Pammy who was on clinics and enjoying not having to work weekends in the weeks leading to Christmas.
‘Mrs Tanner has asked for us all to take our sewing boxes with us,’ said Dana and Beth held up a carpet bag for inspection.
‘I’ve got mine to take to the wards. I’ll see you at one thirty.’
‘Aren’t you going to go down for breakfast? You don’t want to be late,’ said Dana, with a wink to Beth who tucked her cape under her legs and sat on the edge of the unmade bed, her starched linen cap in her hand, ready to clip into place before she left.
‘I’ve already been down, thank you very much, and I’ve come to tell you, Mrs Duffy is making you poached eggs because she’s in a good mood.’
Dana smiled. ‘The Christmas trees are coming this morning, that’s why she’s happy. It’s all go, sewing day today, finish off tomorrow, trees decorating, rehearsal for the carol concert in the main hall, decorating the children’s ward, Victoria’s party next week and then, wham, Christmas is upon us.’
Dana picked up a letter opener off her desk and began to tease the edges of an envelope as a tentative knock came on the door and then the face of Gracie peered around the corner.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought you were on your way down, I was coming to give the room a clean.’
‘Gracie, come in. You don’t have to say you’re sorry,’ said Dana.
Pammy suddenly exclaimed, ‘Gracie, I’ve just remembered something! You can sew, can’t you?’
Gracie nodded. ‘Me and Mam make all our lads pants for school and the dresses. Mam wants me to try the factories as a seamstress or a pattern cutter, but they won’t take you on until you’re sixteen.’
Pammy threw her arms around Gracie, making her smile. ‘God, I love you,’ she said. ‘You don’t fancy coming to our house when you finish today, do you? To give a hand with the seams? We’ve got four dresses to knock out and now Victoria wants a panel put in. Between all of us, it’s doable, but I’m no way as skilled with a needle as you and me mam. There’ll be a good spread.’
Dana laughed. ‘Aye, and the craic is always good too. You’ll enjoy it, Gracie. I know I always do.’
Gracie wanted to tell them to stop. They didn’t have to persuade or entice her. Just to be a part of their day, to be invited out, even if it was just because she could sew, made her feel included and she felt a warmth flow through her.
‘I’ll just have to go home first and let Mam know where I am. What time?’ Gracie asked.
‘Oh, you are a love,’ said Pammy, who squeezed her tight again. ‘We are off after breakfast, but look, if you need to do anything to help at home first, just come when you can. Mam is making a pan of scouse for us all for our dinners. Honest to God, she makes it on a Saturday in a ship-sized pan, if you know what I mean. Tell your mam to send your kids down to ours and we’ll feed them – then she won’t need to cook today and she’ll be able to spare you.’
Gracie grinned. ‘Right, I will.’
‘And I’m off. I can’t be late because Antrobus is on earlies – you going down to breakfast?’ said Beth.
‘Yes, I’m coming,’ said Pammy.
Dana was scanning her letter. ‘I’ll be down in a moment,’ she said and the two nurses left without a backward glance.
‘Do you want me to leave?’ asked Gracie.
Dana looked up, distracted. ‘No, I’ll only be a minute,’ she said as she sat on the edge of the bed.
Gracie, who knew when to be quiet, began to polish the desk and averted her gaze, but not before she saw the tears spring to Dana’s eyes as she read her letter.
Dear Dana,
I am beside myself with grief. For the man I was, the couple we were and for all that I have lost. I don’t blame you for not wanting me back. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting me dead. All I want is for you to know that I think of you every waking moment of my day. That if I could turn the clock back, I would. That I know I have no excuse but I am compelled to let you know, for all of my life, I will never be able to forgive myself for what I did to you. I will live with that guilt – and hopefully you will go on to meet someone who will treat you like the angel you are, love you as you deserve to be loved and respect you in a way I catastrophically failed to do. I will love you to the end of my days, my heart scarred with the footsteps you left, to remind me of what I had and then lost.
I will love you forever,
Yours, the biggest fool that ever lived,
Teddy.
A pain burnt in Dana’s heart and her eyes stung. She felt a familiar surge of anger rise and almost consume her. How right he was in all that he had written – he had failed to respect her or love her. He had cheated on her, treated her abominably. There was no way back from that. It was over, forever, and all he had done by writing to her was to try to weaken her resolve, to reopen the pain and the hurt. How dare he! She saw a flicker in the corner of her eye – a handkerchief that Gracie held out towards her.
‘Thank you,’ she said and half smiled as she dabbed at her eyes. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit of a fool.’
‘No you aren’t,’ said Gracie in a very matter-of-fact manner. ‘My mam cries all the time and she’s no fool. Best woman in the world, my mam. It’s men who are the fools. You should meet my da. He’s the biggest of the lot.’ Dana looked into the earnest face of the fifteen-year-old who could clean, sew, help run the nurses’ home and take a view of the world that in Dana’s eyes, appeared to be about right.
‘I’d better go for breakfast,’ said Dana as she patted Gracie on the hand. ‘Otherwise Scamp will be licking his lips. See you later at the Tanners’.’
Gracie grinned. ‘I can’t wait,’ she said.
*
The school of nursing was closed at weekends and that was one of the reasons Biddy loved her job so much. No shifts, no weekends and a pattern that never altered, a bit like her life.
‘I’m getting me Christmas shopping done today,’ she said to Elsie. ‘I’m going into town, to look for some ideas for our baby Louis. He has that much stuff it’s hard to know what to get for him. I’ve got him for the day and then I’m going to take him to the grotto in Lewis’s.’
‘He’s too young for Father Christmas,’ said Elsie. ‘He won’t have clue what’s going on.’
‘I wish I knew what was going on,’ said Biddy. ‘Emily and Dessie are happy, though, that’s all that matters. She wanted to come with me but I said to her, when are you going to mark those exam papers, then? Christmas Day, eh? Those nurses are expecting their results before then.’
Elsie was kneeling on a mat on the street, cleaning her front step and Biddy was on her way to Emily’s house to collect Louis.
‘There’s a lot going on, isn’t there?’ said Elsie as she leant back on her heels, the back of her headscarf lifting in t
he cold breeze. ‘Where is that snow they said was coming, that’s what I would like to know? I don’t like to go out in the snow, you know that.’
Biddy held the strap of her handbag before her and looked up at the heavy grey sky. ‘You can’t trust the weather men on the telly,’ she said. ‘The man after the news on the radio is more accurate. He says no snow and I believe him.’
Elsie, sprightly for a woman of her age, sprang to her feet and picked up her bucket. ‘I’d better crack on, I don’t want to miss the bus. Are you at Mavis’s tonight?’
‘I am,’ said Biddy, ‘although my fingers are that cold, I’m not sure I’ll be that much use at sewing.’
Elsie closed the door and as Biddy made her way towards Emily’s house, she decided that after she had collected Louis, she would call into Malcolm’s. She would let Louis have his morning sleep, give him a bottle, and then carry on into town. Malcolm had been out of sorts since Melly had told him she was leaving and she would let him know he was not to worry, that she would help him find the right person to help out. He couldn’t worry before Christmas.
As she reached Malcolm’s door, Louis was fast asleep in the pram. It had been a struggle to prise him out of Emily’s arms.
‘I’m sure I can mark the papers while he is in the room,’ she had said.
‘No, you can’t, Emily,’ Biddy had said firmly. ‘I’m taking him with me. If we are out of your way, you can get them all finished today.’
‘He may not be of royal blood but he may as well be a prince,’ said Emily, ‘he’s that much fought over.’ She smothered her son in kisses as he flung himself forwards and collapsed into a rapture of helpless giggles. ‘He called me mam, last night,’ Emily said to Biddy, her voice full of pride.
‘Well, that’s as it should be, because you are – and the best one I’ve ever known too. Was everything all right, with Matron?’ Biddy looked worried. Matron was a stickler for the rules and it could easily be that she had chosen not to support Emily for not having done the right thing.
The smile had fallen from Emily’s face. ‘Matron was fine. She and Dr Gaskell are going to see the old bat, Miss Devonshire, today and Dr Gaskell suggested he take Dr William with him.’
‘Really,’ said Biddy, ‘why?’
‘Well, he’s Louis’ own doctor – he saw him when he had a cold and then an ear infection and he knows how much I panicked. As he said himself, it was quite a remarkable and pathetic performance from me, considering that I am a trained nurse. I was a wreck on both occasions if you remember.’
Biddy fastened Louis’ harness to the side of the pram and puffed up the pillow behind him to make sure he was comfortable. Louis stuck his thumb in his mouth, sucked hard and looked up at Biddy as if waiting for something. She rubbed the top of his head with her hand and gave him a smile filled with such affection, he removed his thumb and beamed up at her.
‘You old heartbreaker you,’ she said. ‘And yes, Emily, I remember it well; no one can ever doubt how much you love this one. If you ask me, it’s the letter of complaint that is the big hurdle to get over. Someone out there has it in for you, Emily, and it’s not nice to know, but God himself knows that you and Dessie have been the best and that’s all they need to know – but with Matron on your side, all will be well. She’s not God, but she runs a close second.’
Now Biddy flicked the brake on the pram and knocked on Malcolm’s door. She didn’t have to wait long for him to answer.
‘Oh, you’ve got the little lad with you,’ he said as he peered in the pram.
‘I have and I’m just going to leave him out here to finish his sleep before I give him his bottle and carry on into town and I thought, what better place to call than here for a nice cuppa before I go.’
‘Will he be all right out here?’ asked Malcolm as he looked down the street. ‘Not too cold, is it?’
There were two prams containing sleeping babies within view and Biddy smiled. ‘Malcolm, babies sleep best outside in the pram in all weathers.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ said Malcolm. ‘Come on in, Melly’s doing the rooms.’ Malcolm walked into the kitchen, drawn by the pied piper effect of the whistling, steaming kettle as Biddy hovered in the hall.
‘She’s already mopped in there, I’m not going in in my outdoor shoes.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll bring a tray through,’ said Malcolm and as he pottered about, placing cups on saucers and pouring milk into a jug, Biddy picked up the envelopes on the hall table.
‘Malcolm, have you ever thought that these letters might be important? I mean, he obviously isn’t coming back, is he? Why don’t you open them, see who it is who is writing and put the poor girl out of her misery?’
Malcolm walked out of the kitchen and into the parlour. ‘The thought has crossed my mind, but you know, the last one came from America and that put me off. I’ve spoken to some of the sailors and they all tell me they haven’t seen sight nor sound of him since Jacko gave him the first one in Rotterdam. Told me he was last heard of en route to the West Indies.’
‘Aye, well, we know what happens there, don’t we?’ said Biddy disapprovingly as she took the tea Malcolm gave her. ‘And half of them never come back.’
*
Eva walked slowly up the street. She had worked out herself that the pains were worse the quicker she walked and that if she took her time, she could breathe through them, hold them at bay for a little longer. The heat and the light-headedness was harder to deal with, but she had been to the chemist and bought the Disprin, minus the whisky, that Malcolm had given her, and for a short time that helped. Then, as she got nearer to Malcolm’s door, she saw the pram and stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart beat so fast she could feel it hammering against her ribs and breathing became difficult. Her hands were in her coat pocket and between her fingers, she felt the slip of paper that Ida had written her address on.
‘Come round to my house after you’ve had a sleep and we’ll decide what we are going to do,’ she’d said. ‘If he’s your baby, you should have him and as far as I’m concerned, there’s no law in the land that would separate a mother from her child. We will find a way, Eva. All the problems of the world have been solved around a kitchen table.’
Eva doubted that was true, but Ida was offering hope and that invitation, after so long with none, was irresistible.
At first, her legs would not move; she placed her hand on the brick wall of the Silvestrian pub next to her, to steady herself, and looked around. Everyone lived in the back of their houses and used the back entries and the street was empty. She took one tentative step and then another, and within minutes her hands were on the chrome handle.
‘Elijah,’ she gasped his name, and looked into the pram.
His head was turned to one side, his arms splayed up and around him. A faint smile played on the corner of his lips – he was dreaming. Eva could no longer see as the tears filled her eyes and she lost all sense of reason as, with one last blurred glance up and down the street, she bent down, silently dropped the brake and, placing both hands on the pram handles, walked as swiftly as she could down the street.
Biddy heard a noise outside, looked up at the net curtains on the front room window, and saw a woman with a bowed head passing by, pushing a pram.
‘Well, if you ask my opinion, I think you should open the letters,’ she said. ‘You just never know, Malcolm. You could put some poor girl out of her misery.’
Malcolm rose. ‘Do you know what? I’m sick of looking at them,’ he said. ‘And, truth be told, it’s been at least three months since the last one; do you really think we should, Biddy?’
‘Aye, go on,’ said Biddy. ‘It can’t do any harm and the best thing that can happen is if there’s an address you can return the letters to. Let some poor girl move on with her life, eh?’
*
Melly tutted as she wiped the condensation from the bedroom window with a cloth. It was cold outside and the warmth from the paraffin heater and the slee
ping bodies had long gone, leaving the wet windows and black encroaching crusts of mould for Melly to clean away.
‘God, there has to be more to life than this,’ she said as she wrung the cloth out into her bucket. As she bent to clean the lower panes, she saw Eva walking away, pushing the pram. She must have offered to take the baby for a walk, to give Biddy a break, she mused and then, thought nothing more of it as she turned to make the bunks.
Chapter 18
Dr Gaskell had been on the phone in his hallway for almost fifteen minutes and as Doris finished her jobs in the kitchen, she kept glancing towards the cupboard. The pills were whispering her name, enticing her over. She dried her hands on a tea towel. And considered removing the bottle and tipping the contents down the sink. I don’t need you, she thought, not one little bit. No, it wasn’t easy, but she had become very well aware that keeping busy was the key to her future success. She never wanted to spend another morning sitting in the fireside chair in a haze, waiting for the hours to pass.
She moved towards the cabinet, heard the receiver ding in the hallway and her husband’s footsteps as he walked slowly back into the kitchen. She could tell instantly, by his slow and weighty tread, something was wrong. She removed her hand from the cabinet handle and turned to face him with a bright smile.
‘Who was that? It’s a Saturday. Something wrong at the hospital or has your golf partner cried off?’ she asked, knowing that both events could be treated with equal dismay. He looked distracted as he rubbed his chin and almost fell over a large bag in the hallway.
‘Doris,’ he shouted, ‘what on earth is all this?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, it’s my sewing stuff. I’ll be off in a minute. Not that you would have a clue what I’m up to, seeing as how you didn’t get home until gone eleven and missed out on supper with your own son and Teddy.’
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