The Midwives of Lark Lane

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The Midwives of Lark Lane Page 5

by Pam Howes


  Granny smiled. ‘Well, let’s keep our fingers crossed then that they will let you back on the course.’

  Four

  Aigburth June 1963

  Cathy whispered, ‘See you later’ to her mother and slipped quietly out by the front door while four-year-old Lucy’s back was turned. Her daughter was currently occupied with choosing a biscuit from the barrel and would no doubt kick off as soon as she realised Cathy had left her behind; but hopefully Granny Alice would pacify her. Hurrying down the front path, Cathy waved at Debbie, who was wiping down the windowsill of her house across the road. ‘Catch up with you later, Debs,’ she called and hurried up Lucerne Street and out onto Lark Lane, where she stopped off at the post office to send an airmail card and letter to her Uncle Brian and his wife in America, congratulating them on the birth of their second son in three years. Brian getting married had come as a surprise to his family back in Liverpool, but a very nice one all the same.

  After exchanging pleasantries with Mrs Jones behind the counter, Cathy ran to catch the bus on Aigburth Road. She was on her way into the city to meet up with Jean, Karen and Ellie, to celebrate the end of Karen and Ellie’s midwifery training with afternoon tea at the Kardomah Café. Although Jean had qualified twelve months earlier, she’d insisted on joining her friends today to help celebrate their achievements.

  Cathy couldn’t believe she’d only got six months left to do before she also qualified as a midwife. From the point when Gianni had suggested she restart her training, and she and Lucy had moved into the spare bedroom in Granny Lomax’s bungalow on Linnet Lane, the time had absolutely flown by. She’d been very lucky with all the help she’d received in looking after Lucy over the last few years. It had been a struggle at times, combining working, studying and being mother, daughter, granddaughter and wife, as well as big sister to her three half-siblings. She hated the time she was apart from Gianni, but was proud of the fact that she’d worked hard, succeeded in fulfilling her lifelong dreams and was now a state registered nurse and over halfway to becoming a midwife.

  She stuck her hand out as the bus approached, jumped on board and found a seat downstairs. The cheerful conductor collected her fare and walked away down the aisle, whistling Cliff Richard’s ‘Summer Holiday’. Cathy tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled to herself, wondering if she and Gianni might manage a week away this year. Summer was always a busy time with the fair, so the most they’d probably get would be a few days together when it visited Sefton Park for a week in the middle of next month. Even that would be better than nothing though.

  Lucy would be five in December and was due to start school in September, which would make life easier all round. Debbie had also been helping her out, but was now pregnant with her second child, and although Granny Lomax had coped well enough, she was getting a bit too old to be doing the bulk of the child-minding; and her mam was still working a couple of days a week at the Royal as an auxiliary nurse. It was a joy to see her mam so happy and Johnny was a great stepdad to the kids, who loved him. After the awful father they’d had in Jack it was so nice for them to have someone who took little Roddy out to play football and was quite happy to turn a skipping rope handle for Rosie and Sandra out in the back garden.

  Johnny, along with Millie’s husband Jimmy, ran a property renovations business and they worked all over Liverpool, doing up old houses. For the first time in her life, her mam was enjoying having a nice home with all the mod cons and new furniture.

  Cathy jumped off the bus near Lime Street station. She was a bit early, so she decided to have a quick wander around the shops and headed over to Ranelagh Street and into Lewis’s store. She smiled as she spotted Millie in her smart navy uniform with her blond hair pinned up in a neat chignon, walking around with a clipboard, talking to the girls on the various cosmetic counters. Millie was the supervisor over cosmetics now and Cathy thought back to the days before she started her nursing career, when she herself had worked on the Max Factor counter with Debbie. Cathy’s mam had been the floor supervisor in those days but had always wanted to be a nurse too and when Cathy discovered her mam could get a place as a trainee auxiliary, Alice had taken the opportunity. She loved her job on the children’s ward.

  ‘Millie,’ Cathy called as Millie spun around and smiled at the sight of her.

  ‘Hiya, love. Have you got a day off then? You look nice and summery.’ Millie admired Cathy’s blue and white flower-patterned shift dress and white kitten-heeled court shoes.

  ‘Yes.’ Cathy nodded. ‘Mam’s got Lucy for a few hours. I’m meeting friends for a bite to eat. Bit of a celebration really for Karen and Ellie. They’ve just qualified as midwives.’

  ‘Oh, how lovely. You haven’t got much longer to go to your finals now, have you?’

  ‘Six months. I can’t believe it. It’s absolutely flown.’

  Millie laughed. ‘Well you had a good start didn’t you, love? Delivering your little brother at home when you were only fifteen.’

  Cathy rolled her eyes and thought back to the day seven years ago when her mam had gone into labour with Roddy. Just before he made an appearance, the young nurse accompanying the midwife had slipped on ice in the back garden and broken her leg. While everyone was rushing around helping her, Cathy had successfully delivered the baby herself. It was an event she would never forget and had strengthened her longing to become a nurse.

  ‘I certainly did.’ She grinned. That young nurse had been Jean, now one of her best friends.

  ‘When’s Gianni back up this way?’

  ‘Next month. I can’t wait to see him again. That’s the only thing I don’t like about my life right now; the fact that we can’t be together all the time. But there’s no way he’d leave his dad to manage the fair alone now his Uncle Marco has gone back to Italy, and he knows I can’t handle that lifestyle. So we have to meet in the middle and make the best of a bad job, for now, anyway.’

  Millie nodded. ‘Just like Sadie. She couldn’t handle fairground living either.’

  Cathy sighed. Gianni’s mother had left Luca when Gianni was a baby, even though she’d never divorced him or stopped loving him. It was only after her tragic death that Gianni had found his father. Much as she hated being apart from him, Cathy knew she’d never force Gianni to choose between them. It made the time they did spend together even more precious.

  ‘Are you staying at your mam’s tonight?’ Millie asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Cathy replied. ‘Not sure what time I’ll be home though. We’re having afternoon tea and then a bit of a wander around town.’

  ‘I’ll pop in and see your mam later for a brew,’ Millie said. ‘Might catch up with you then. Enjoy your afternoon off. Makes a nice change from working.’

  ‘It does.’ Cathy waved goodbye and strolled back outside the store. She looked across at the Adelphi Hotel and swallowed a lump that had risen in her throat. Her mam and dad’s one-night honeymoon had been in the hotel before he was sent off to fight in World War Two. Cathy knew she’d been conceived that night because her dad had been away for the next five years. She vaguely remembered spending time with him before his untimely death, but she’d never really known him. Framed photos at Granny Lomax’s showed he’d been a nice-looking young man, smart in his soldier’s uniform and dark-haired and blue-eyed, just like Cathy.

  She turned onto Bold Street and strolled down towards the Kardomah, swinging her white handbag and enjoying the warm sun on her bare arms.

  Jack looked up as the clinking of keys sounded and the cell door clanged open. A large man with ginger hair and a neat beard strolled in, accompanied by the prison warder, who pointed to the top bunk and told the man that was his. Jack swung his legs off the bed and slowly got to his feet. His lower leg was hurting like hell and he had taken a couple of his prescribed tablets earlier. He wouldn’t be allowed any more until later, but he could do with them now. That was the problem with being banged up; there was no alcohol to take the edge off his pain.

  He’
d been on his own for the last couple of nights as the thick Scouser had been given parole and sent home with conditions. Jack had relished the peace and quiet but had known it would be short-lived. The warder left the cell and locked the door behind him.

  Jack nodded at the new bloke, who nodded back. ‘The name’s Jack,’ he ventured, but didn’t hold out his hand, as the bloke didn’t look the hand-shake type.

  ‘Andy,’ the man responded in a strong Glaswegian accent. ‘What time do they serve afternoon tea in this establishment?’ His mouth twitched and Jack realised he was joking.

  He laughed. ‘Six on the dot. But we get a brew and a biscuit in about half an hour. There’s a cupboard over there for your stuff. Bottom shelf, mine’s on the top. Welcome to Walton Palace.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’ Andy asked, putting his meagre belongings and a spare set of prison-issue clothing on his allocated shelf.

  ‘Too bloody long,’ Jack said. ‘I’ve another five years to go. And you?’

  Andy winked and rummaged in his backpack again, pulling out a box of playing cards. ‘New sentence. Fifteen years this time… but not if I have my way,’ he added, lowering his voice. ‘Let’s just see, shall we? Fancy a game of cards?’

  Jack smiled and invited Andy to sit down on his bunk. He pulled the small table across from underneath the barred window and Andy proceeded to deal the cards.

  ‘We’ll play for fags,’ Andy said as Jack sat down beside him. ‘I’ve a full pack with me.’

  ‘I’ve two left,’ Jack said.

  ‘I noticed you limping. Problem with your leg?’

  Jack explained about his wartime injury and Andy nodded sympathetically. ‘I lost a few mates overseas. I managed to come back in one piece to find my wife had buggered off with a Yank. You married, Jack?’

  ‘Divorced. Thank God.’

  ‘That bad, was it? Waste of time, women. They screw you over and will never take the blame for anything.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ Jack agreed, thinking how he was going to enjoy Andy’s company much better than he’d enjoyed his time with the thick Scouser. At least having a decent cellmate would help the next few years go by a bit quicker.

  A young girl in a black-and-white waitressing outfit greeted her warmly as she entered the coffee shop.

  ‘Table for four, please,’ Cathy said. ‘Could we have one by the window? My friends will be joining me shortly.’

  ‘Of course, Madam.’ The waitress led the way over to the big window that looked out onto Bold Street. Cathy sat down on a chair closest to the window and peered around. The Kardomah was always a special place to have tea. She’d been with Granny occasionally on her birthday. The high ceilings gave a grand feel to the room and the tall leather seating in an orange-red contrasted boldly with the highly polished black wooden tables.

  Through the window she spotted her three brightly dressed friends crossing the street. Almost as though she knew she was being spied on, Jean looked across, her red hair blowing in the gentle breeze coming up from the Mersey. She waved and pointed and Ellie and Karen looked over and waved too. Cathy grinned as they hurried into the café and joined her at the table. There were hugs and shrieks of delight as the girls took their seats and the waitress brought the menus over.

  ‘You three look lovely,’ Cathy said, admiring their summer dresses in various pastel patterns on white backgrounds. Their neatly styled hair, Ellie’s blond and wavy and Karen’s as dark and straight as Cathy’s, hung freely to their shoulders, free from the usual confines of white caps and kirby grips.

  ‘It’s so nice to get dressed up like proper ladies,’ Jean said with a grin. ‘It’s such a treat to be off hospital premises for a few hours.’

  The foursome ordered assorted sandwiches and chocolate cake, with pots of tea, and caught up with each other’s news.

  ‘Where will you be living now you’ve qualified?’ Cathy asked, moving the menus to one side as two waitresses brought over a tea trolley laden with their order and placed everything on the table. ‘Thank you.’ She smiled as the two girls left with the empty trolley.

  ‘We’re not sure, yet,’ Karen replied. ‘We’ve talked about renting a flat or house between us, Jean as well now she’s not seeing Nigel any more.’

  ‘That sounds like a great idea,’ Cathy said as Ellie nodded her agreement. ‘Well, until you all decide to stroll down the aisle.’

  Karen laughed. ‘All in good time. Anyway, I’ll need to find a fella I fancy enough to commit to, first.’

  ‘I don’t think marriage is for me,’ Ellie admitted shyly. ‘What happened to me has kind of put me off blokes for life. I don’t trust anybody. Well except for your Gianni, of course.’

  Cathy took a deep breath and nodded. Ellie’s rape by Jack Dawson had affected her friend badly. He was still in Walton Gaol and could rot in there forever as far as she was concerned. He’d never been in contact, not even to ask how his kids were doing. She pushed the thoughts of him out of her mind, picked up the teapot and filled their cups. ‘You don’t need to have a man in your life to be a success, Ellie.’ Cathy touched her hand as Ellie smiled. ‘I mean, it’s 1963 and we gels can do what we like, right? What about you, Jean, anyone in mind?’

  Jean shook her head. ‘Not at the moment. Nigel was a bit too clingy and just didn’t seem to get that I don’t want to be married or even engaged. Like you said, it’s not the be all and end all for me like it is for a lot of women. I’m glad to have a break from him to be honest. But I’ve got some plans going through my head that might help us all in time.’

  ‘Tell Cathy,’ Karen urged, reaching for a salmon sandwich. ‘I know she’s got a roof over her and Lucy’s heads at the moment, but for the future, well, you never know.’

  Cathy stared open-mouthed as Jean spoke of her plans. ‘It’s early days of course, but if we could find a house in Liverpool that’s big enough for us all to comfortably share, we could live in half of it and turn the rest over to providing a sort of private maternity home with top-rate care.’

  Jean paused for breath and looked around at her friends. ‘Also, we could help the young unmarried girls we look after to make a choice for themselves about keeping their babies. Far too many are having them ripped out of their arms and adopted without a say in the matter. They often have no choice other than to go back to parents who are in the main more concerned about what the bloody neighbours think than about how their poor daughters are feeling. Just imagine, Cathy, if you and Gianni hadn’t got back together and your mam had insisted you put Lucy up for adoption.’

  Cathy swallowed hard, remembering the awful time when she’d dumped Gianni because she was terrified of losing him while he was riding the bikes, and then discovered Lucy was on the way. ‘I couldn’t have survived that,’ she admitted. ‘I was also very fortunate to have all of you on my side as well as a supportive mam and granny. So many girls don’t have anyone. I think it’s a wonderful idea, Jean.’

  They all nodded their agreement. ‘We’d be the family those girls don’t have,’ Ellie said. ‘They’d learn from us how to take care of their babies and if they can’t go home then we’d help them to find suitable accommodation and jobs so that they could provide for themselves. We’d be giving them time to adjust to being a mother.’

  Jean sighed loudly. ‘Our main problem is finding a big enough place and getting some help to finance it all.’

  ‘How would that work?’ Cathy asked. ‘I mean if a mother-to-be wanted private care, she would be willing to pay, surely.’

  ‘Yes, she would, and the more patients we got that were after something a bit more special than a big hospital ward the better. It would help us to finance the other side of things. We may qualify for some help from the council and the NHS. It needs a lot of plotting and planning. But I think it’s a worthwhile project, don’t you?’

  Cathy nodded. ‘I do, definitely. And when my training is over and done with, you’ll have another midwife to join the team. If you wan
t me of course.’

  ‘It goes without saying.’ Karen raised her rosebud-patterned china cup. ‘Here’s to the future.’

  ‘The future,’ they all said, gently clinking cups together.

  ‘All we need now is a suitable place,’ Cathy mused. ‘There are hundreds of big houses in and around Liverpool. My stepdad Johnny does up old houses with his brother Jimmy. I’ll ask him to keep an eye out for something that will be just right for us.’

  On her way home and true to her word, Cathy called on Debbie, who let her in and led the way to the back room.

  ‘Sit yourself down and I’ll pour you a cuppa,’ Debbie said.

  In spite of feeling awash with tea, Cathy joined Debbie at the table for a catch-up. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘Feeling fat and whale-like again,’ Debbie complained, rubbing her huge tummy. ‘Sorry, Cathy. I shouldn’t be complaining. I know you’d have given your right arm to have got this far with Gianni Junior.’

  Cathy smiled. ‘I would, but don’t worry about having a grumble. That’s some bump you’ve got there.’

  ‘Can’t wait for next month. I hope you are on duty when I go into labour.’

  ‘So do I. But if not, it will be one of my friends that you know, so you will be fine, and I’ll be on the ward anyway most days so I’ll see plenty of you.’

  Debbie smiled. ‘Davy’s just got a new job. He starts next week. So hopefully he’ll like it, and it’s much better money than Lewis’s too.’

  ‘Oh brilliant. Where?’

  ‘At Littlewoods Pools. Floor manager in the pool-checking department. He’ll be managing a lot of people, and it will be a change from selling tellies and washing machines. We’ve got some decent money saved and Davy will be able to get a better mortgage now and it means I don’t need to worry about going to work when this baby arrives. Well, at least until it’s ready for school anyway. When Gianni next calls you, will you ask him to ring Davy here? There’s something we’d like to ask him about the house.’

 

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