by Annie Groves
Flo considered how far along their daughter was with her pregnancy. ‘We should try to go before the birth, you know, Stan,’ she said. ‘She’ll want me here for that, and I’ll want you close by in case we have to send for help. There isn’t long to go now.’
Stan sighed. ‘Yes, but we can’t rely on getting a lift in the back of a delivery van. I can’t see you enjoying that all the way down to Portsmouth, and I’d have a job fitting in, even if the chance was on offer.’ He stood up, stretching his long legs. ‘We might be best to wait until the trains are up and running again. Heaven knows they weren’t keeping to the timetables before, so God alone knows what this will mean. Look what Billy went through, and that was before the bombs.’
‘I know.’ Flo frowned. ‘It’s so hard, though, knowing he’s lying there, no family around him. I feel like Edie when she said she’d swim there if she could.’
Stan shook his head with a smile. ‘Flo, you never learnt to swim. And you’d have to get to the sea somehow to even start. No, we’re best to wait. I want to see him as much as you do, but the girls said he was in good hands. They’ll know if it’s a well-run hospital or not. I trust them when they say he couldn’t be in a better place.’
Flo knew all this was true and yet it didn’t stop her strong maternal urge to go to her child. If there hadn’t been Mattie and Gillian to think about, she would have been tempted to risk the journey anyway; as things stood, she realised that would be a reckless and probably pointless endeavour. She could not be selfish; family need must come first. ‘You’re right, of course.’ Stan was always the sensible one. ‘But promise me that as soon as the track is open – or there’s another way of getting there – that we can go. If we time it right we can be there and back before it’s Mattie’s time. I shan’t rest easy until I’ve seen Harry for myself.’
Stan gazed lovingly at his wife. He recognised that dilemma; he felt it himself. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll put the word out. As soon as it’s reasonably safe to go, we’ll go. How about that?’
Flo rose and came to stand beside him, slipping her arms around his waist as she used to do many years ago when they were first courting. ‘Thank you, Stan. Let’s do that.’
Edith had to force herself to concentrate over the next few days, as her mind kept returning to the hospital ward and Harry squeezing her hand. Sometimes she would wonder if she had imagined it, that it was just a reflex, and she had made herself believe it because that was what she so desperately wanted. This woke her at night and she would sit upright in her narrow bed, sweating, her thoughts racing. What if she had mistakenly given false hope to Stan and Flo?
Then she would recall the scene, and how it had happened again the next morning, and be flooded with relief. She knew there was still a very long way to go, there would be no instant recovery, but he was not the living corpse she had feared from Billy’s first description. Somewhere under all that sedation, Harry’s spirit was still very much there, and she would do everything she could to set it free again.
She was pushing her bike back along the pavement near Ridley Road market when she caught sight of a familiar face. ‘Peggy!’ she called out.
Peggy turned, sweeping off the headscarf that she always wore when at work. Edith realised she must have just finished her shift. Guiltily she knew that she had been avoiding the other woman ever since the news had come about Harry’s survival, not wanting to rub it in that he was still alive while Pete was not. She wasn’t sure what to say, but this state of affairs couldn’t go on, and so she took it as a turn of fate.
‘Hang on – I’ll catch you up.’ She pushed harder on the old handlebars, the wheels creaking around. She had neglected to oil them in all the upheaval and they protested loudly as she drew closer to her friend. ‘How are you, Peggy? Haven’t seen you for ages.’
Peggy smiled, so clearly she bore no grudges. ‘Hello, stranger. No, not since they came and took away all the metal railings from this street. Looks odd, don’t it? Suppose we’ll have to get used to it – the council said they’ll have them from our road too.’ She paused. ‘Have you time for a cuppa?’
‘Not really,’ Edith admitted. ‘I’m due to take one of the first-aid classes this evening, so I need to get back to Victory Walk and grab something to eat first.’
‘I’ll walk along with you, then,’ Peggy suggested. ‘I’m in no hurry to get back to Pete’s mum.’
Edith raised an eyebrow. ‘Is she still driving you crazy?’
‘Not half.’ Peggy mock-shuddered. ‘She’s going on and on about me joining the WVS. It’s all right for her, she’s got nothing else to do with her time, and she enjoys knitting, which is what they seem to do a lot of. I can’t think of anything worse.’
Edith laughed. ‘She probably thinks it’ll keep you out of mischief.’
‘She probably does.’ Peggy paused. ‘So, I heard about Harry. It’s a miracle, Edie, I’m so happy for you. Well, and for him and all the family too, of course. Have you seen him yet?’
‘I have.’ Edith described her visit. ‘I know it’s early days yet, but I really believe he’ll get better. You have to look on the bright side, don’t you? Thinking the worst won’t help anybody.’
Peggy nodded, thrusting her hands into her jacket pockets as she walked along. The late afternoon light was changing; autumn was on its way. The bare stone tops of the walls looked bereft without their elegant railings. She gave a little shiver. ‘That’s the way to look at it. The more you tell him that’s what you believe, the more it’ll buoy him up. It’s almost unbelievable, isn’t it, that he’s back from the dead like that? Don’t get me wrong,’ she added hastily. ‘I mean, I wish for all the world that Pete would turn up in a hospital bed somewhere, but I know it’s impossible. But if he did I’d want to think he’d make a full recovery too.’
Edith looked down at the creaking front wheel. ‘Well, I know Harry might not. I’m not daft; I’ve got a good idea how badly he must have been injured to be sedated like that for so long. That’s not just a few cuts and bruises. Also, I can’t see how his arms will be like they were before. One especially is really badly injured. His days of being a boxing champion are over.’
‘Oh, Edie.’ Peggy stopped, stricken. ‘He loved his boxing. He could have gone all the way to the top, he was so good.’
‘Yes, his life revolved around it,’ Edith said, ‘but now it’ll have to change. And we don’t know what else will be affected. He’s all scarred down one side of his face and they don’t know if his hair will grow back on that side or not. He may have lost his looks for good.’
Peggy gave a rueful grin. ‘Well, he certainly made the most of them while he had them. Sorry, Edie. I mean, before he met you, that is.’
‘Don’t worry, I know what sort of a reputation he had, and he probably deserved it and more,’ Edith said. ‘But I don’t care what he looks like, Peggy, as long as he’s still Harry underneath it all. I know I fell for his looks to begin with, but it was because he was him that I loved him. That doesn’t change.’
Peggy began to walk along the pavement again. ‘Yes, I know what you mean. I wouldn’t have cared what sort of state Pete was in, if only he’d come back. Looks are all very well but you can’t rely on them. Take that bastard Kath was married to. You never met him, did you, but he was all charm till you got to know him. She’s better off now he’s dead, scuse my saying so. I know it’s awful, but still.’
‘Poor Kathleen, but at least he’s not going to return to beat her now.’ Edith shook her head, aware of how very different their situations were. ‘Part of me wants to steel myself against the news that Harry will be permanently disabled in some way, but really, I think I’ll worry about that if and when it happens. When it comes down to it, to have him back in any kind of shape is beyond what I could have hoped for. So what if he can’t box and he looks different. Doesn’t really matter, he’s alive.’
Peggy laughed again. ‘So I suppose that means I can’t persuade you to come out da
ncing then?’
‘Are you planning to get back on the dance floor?’ Edith had to admire her friend’s refusal to be knocked down for long.
‘Certainly am. We might go all the way over to the Hammersmith Palais if the buses haven’t been put off by the West End bombs. Me and Clarrie, that is.’
‘Sounds like fun.’ Edith’s eyes lit up, but she knew she wouldn’t enjoy it. ‘Have a lovely time, the pair of you. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
‘Well, I know one thing you can do,’ Peggy said as she prepared to take the side road back to Mrs Cannon’s house.
‘What’s that?’
‘Oil the wheels of that bloody bike!’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Mattie hugged Flo as the older woman drew on her coat. ‘Now mind you don’t overdo things,’ Flo instructed her. ‘I know what you’re like: the minute my back is turned you’ll be trying to move furniture or something silly.’
Mattie laughed. ‘I shan’t, I promise.’ She knew her mother was secretly fretting about seeing Harry after all this time without wanting to admit it, so she was fussing over her daughter instead. ‘Have a safe journey and don’t worry about me and Gillian. We’ll be safe here.’
‘Now you know that if the siren goes you’ve got to get into the shelter at once.’
Mattie sighed loudly. ‘Ma, we’ve been at war over a year and there haven’t been any raids close by. We got all het up for nothing. It’s hardly going to happen now, the very moment your back is turned.’
‘All the same.’ Flo held her daughter’s gaze.
‘Yes, yes, I promise that too. The first peep from the siren and Gillian and me’ll be in the shelter quicker than you can say Jack Robinson. I shall pop her into that new siren suit Kath made for her after she did Brian’s. They’ll look like two peas in a pod in that green material she came up with. Now, off you go, Pa is waiting.’
Stan had managed to get them a lift with one of his ARP colleagues who had to go to the south coast for some reason to do with defence training, and so they would not have to worry about the damaged train tracks. It had taken until now, the end of the first week in September, to arrange transport to Portsmouth. They were setting out at first light so as to waste no time.
Mattie watched her parents turn the corner at the far end of Jeeves Street and then went back into the kitchen to put the kettle on for her second cup of tea of the morning. ‘Do you want to go back to bed?’ she asked Gillian, who was toddling to and fro in front of the table, very proud to manage the steps so well. ‘It’s still early. Mummy might want to have forty winks at any rate.’
Gillian plonked herself down and Mattie settled onto the sagging sofa, pulling the little girl up beside her. ‘There we are,’ she said, making sure her tea was within easy reach. ‘A nice cuppa and then a little doze. Then we’ll be fresh as daisies.’
‘Daisies,’ Gillian did her best to say, and burst into her carefree chuckle. Mattie smiled, and wondered if her next child would have such an infectious laugh. Whatever happened, she would move heaven and earth to ensure both her children were shielded from the grim realities of war.
Mattie wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke up again. The light had changed and it was no longer early morning. She was not sure if it was even morning at all. Gillian had nodded off beside her and was snuffling gently, her arm curled protectively around her teddy bear. ‘Dear me, this won’t do,’ Mattie muttered. ‘Look what silly Mummy has done, gone and missed the best of the morning. Let’s hope Aunty Kath hasn’t come round, found the door shut and gone away again.’ Moving as carefully as she could, she pushed herself out of the seat and walked, with her painfully waddling gait, to the front door. She made sure it was unlocked and that Kathleen could get in, as she had promised to drop by after going to the market. Despite what she’d said to her parents, Mattie didn’t fancy being on her own all day with Gillian. Everyone said the bombs over London had been a mistake by one of Hitler’s generals, but she felt nervous nonetheless.
In fact she felt on edge, caught between a desire to walk around restlessly, and to clear out the kitchen cupboards. She knew she should not as the pots and pans were heavy and she didn’t want another scare. But she couldn’t settle. ‘Serves me right for dropping off like that. I never meant to sleep so long,’ she told herself firmly. Her gaze was caught by a small pile of handwashing that needed doing. That could not possibly count as heavy work. Checking that Gillian was safely wedged in by a cushion and showing no sign of waking, Mattie went into the back kitchen and picked up a tin bucket. It was as she bent down to the lower shelf for the soap powder that the first pain hit her.
At first Mattie thought she could carry on. The weather was warm, there was a bright blue sky and she wanted to get her washing out. After such a dull end of summer she couldn’t afford to waste a day. So Mattie gritted her teeth, clung to the edge of the countertop, and when the worst of it had gone she resumed her attempts at getting the food stains off Gillian’s bibs.
The second pain caught her just as she turned to rinse the little pieces of flannel, making her gasp. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the groan. She didn’t want to wake her daughter, no matter how much she wanted to cry out. A couple of the bibs fell to the floor but suddenly the idea of reaching down to retrieve them was too much. Grimly, Mattie steadied herself and went back to the sofa, lowering herself carefully, and braced herself for the next wave of pain. Her eyes went to the clock. Surely Kathleen must come soon.
It was almost an hour later when the front door opened and her friend called out. ‘You there, Mattie? Sorry I’ve been so long, you’ll never guess who I saw—’
Kathleen, with Brian following, came into the kitchen and abruptly stopped. ‘Oh, Mattie. Are you all right? What’s happened? Is it the baby coming already? Isn’t it too soon?’
Mattie gasped, at the same time almost crying with relief. ‘Kath. Thank God you’re here. It’s coming. It’s a couple of weeks early but then so was Gillian. I thought it was just first babies that were early but maybe not. Ma’s gone to Portsmouth, so am I glad to see you.’ She fell back against the faded cushions, sweating with the effort. Gillian had woken up by now and started to fret at the sight of her usually cheerful mother in distress.
Kathleen weighed up her options and then took charge. ‘Right. I see. Well, then.’ She went to the sink and swiftly grabbed a glass and filled it with cold water. ‘You have this and I tell you what I’ll do. The children can go to Mrs Bishop; she’s in on her own today cos I saw her earlier. I’ll take them over there now and be back in two ticks. Brian, you play nicely with Gillian while I go and find her a change of clothes and a cardy, then we’ll go to Mrs Bishop’s back yard – you’ll like that.’ She dashed upstairs, before returning with the small articles of clothing in a paper bag. ‘Off we go, into the sunshine, won’t that be nice?’ She didn’t stop to think; she knew she had to act. It was down to her now. After all the times the Banhams had come to her rescue, this was her turn to repay them.
By the time Kathleen returned, a matter of ten minutes or less, Mattie felt calmer. She wasn’t going to be left on her own. This was a natural and normal turn of events. Even though she wished Flo was there, she knew what would happen; it was less than two years since the last time she had done this, after all. It would hurt but she’d have a beautiful baby at the end of it. Better still, she trusted Kathleen, who had given birth around the same time as she had. They were old hands at this.
Kathleen went around the house, collecting items that would be useful for the birth: old sheets to put on the sofa, newspapers, towels. She set the copper to boil and then encouraged Mattie to eat a little, to keep her strength up. ‘You don’t know how long this will go on,’ she pointed out. ‘Better have a bit of something while you can.’ She set about heating some soup and making a few pieces of toast, and then joined her friend in the hastily cobbled-together dinner.
Mattie felt better for a while, as the contractions
had settled into a pattern, not too close together as yet. Kathleen felt confident enough to leave her to finish the handwashing, making the most of the sunshine. ‘I don’t know why you didn’t leave it to me in the first place,’ she scolded. ‘You knew I was coming. You know I never mind doing it.’
Mattie flashed a grin. ‘Yes, but it didn’t seem like much. I thought it would be no trouble. Thanks, Kath. It’s so hard to keep enough clean bibs.’
‘I know exactly what you mean.’ Kathleen rolled her eyes, as she dried her hands on an old tea towel. She felt in control. All was going well. Mattie’s pains were steady but not urgent as yet, and so Flo would probably be back in time to take charge when the real pushing began. The children were safe with her old neighbour; even though she complained non-stop to Kathleen, she was in fact very good with the young ones. Kathleen began to think about preparing something for tea from the shopping she’d brought from the market. Maybe some corned beef and salad – that would be light enough in this warmth.
She was just getting to her feet when the air-raid siren sounded.
For a moment she thought it was a mistake, that she was imagining it. But when it showed no signs of stopping she realised that it was all too real. She knew she had to stay calm and help her friend who instantly sprang upright, cradling her swollen stomach. ‘What … no, it can’t be. Kath, why is this happening today?’ Mattie’s voice rose in panic.
Kathleen tried to remember how Alice and Edith acted when there was an emergency. She kept her voice very level as she replied, ‘It’s probably a mistake. You know, like that alarm last year when war was declared. All the same, we’d better get you into the shelter, and then I’ll bring everything we might need across as well.’ She gave Mattie her arm and together they hurried to the Anderson shelter, dug out by Harry and Joe before they had joined up, and carefully kitted out by Stan and Flo.