Of Different Times

by Agnes Kirkwood

  That night when we went for a walk, I happened to tell Winnie about the Headmistress coming around. She told me I shouldn’t have let her in because the only reason she came was to see if maybe what she saw was true. She said her name was Mrs Pateat, the biggest gossiper in the village, and she never missed a thing. She had a married son that hardly ever visited her. Rumour had it that when she was young she disappeared for ages then came back with her son stating her husband was killed in the war, but some people thought that the father of her son was the priest and that was why she got that house and that job. I hoped she hadn’t proved herself right, because if it was true what Winnie told me, then all the sacrifices I made was a waste of time, it meant my secret would soon be out.

  As the time got nearer, I began to panic. I told Stan that I was beginning to change my mind, and not go. I expected him to be pleased but then I could see in his face that he was disappointed. He said it would be a shame after all the sacrifices I had made, and it was only natural for me to feel the way I do, but just to keep thinking of when I came out and how it would be a fresh start for me, with no looking back. I told him it was all right for him talking, he wasn’t the one going away from home for three whole months, have a baby all on my own with no family around to support me, not even to get a visitor. There was no way my parents could come all that way on buses or trains just for a couple of hours a week, it wasn’t as if it was in the city itself, it was miles outside. He told me if that was all that was stopping me from going then he would make it a point of visiting on Saturdays, even if he had to walk there. He pleaded it would be the best all around. I don’t know if I was imagining it or not but I got the impression that he was panicking in case I didn’t go to the Home. I think it was just nerves talking, when I calmed down I was all right.

  Nevertheless Stan must have been worried about it as well, because one Saturday night I was ready with my tight corset and swagger coat on waiting for him in our house to go out in our usual foursome. along with Winnie and William, When Stan eventually arrived we all headed through the entry to walk down the street. It was quite dark and I never gave the van parked outside our gate a second thought. I nearly died when Stan opened the door and told me to get in.

  ’Who did you borrow this off?’ I asked jokingly.

  “No one, I’ve just bought it today so there’s no worries about not having any visitors when you go to the home.’ he replied with a huge smile on his face.

  Was I right? Did he panic thinking I’d change my mind, or maybe all he wanted was us have a fresh start? If so, he must love me, and I hoped that the love I had for him was real, and not just on the rebound from Billy. Maybe he didn’t have the guts to tell anyone about me having a baby in case they thought it was his. I pushed that to the back of my mind thinking I was being a bit paranoid, which I probably was. I was just too scared of being hurt again I suppose.

  I felt so much better, not just because I’d be able to have visitors, I knew he must love me to do what he did. My heart strings began to pluck as we all piled in the van and off we went.

  That van was a blessing; we went all over in it, well away from the village we lived in, so I had a lot of freedom, I could actually walk around the streets without the fear of anyone pointing a finger at me. We went to Liverpool just to judge how long it took to get there, which took us less than half an hour. We spent the day going around the shops, which were bigger than I had ever seen in Stirling. We didn’t try to find the Home, because I was frightened in case it put me off from going when the time came; I thought it might look like a prison.

  When the day finally came for me to go, I never slept all night. My case was all packed, and all the family were in the living room saying their goodbyes; waiting for Stan coming with the van. Mum was going with me; dad gave me some money in case I needed to buy anything. I felt quiet, I just couldn’t think of anything to say. I just kept telling myself the next time I come home; it will be all over. Mum asked me if I was sure this was what I wanted, because it still wasn’t too late to back out. I told her I was still sure; that was a lie. If I had the guts to back out then I would have, but I was just too stubborn to admit it. On the other hand if I did back out I would probably regret it; Truth be known, I felt as if I was in the eye of a tornado waiting to be thrown into whatever direction it threw me.

  Stan finally arrived with the van, and dad carried my case out and put it in the back of the van. I gave everyone a hug and got into the front of the van with mum and Stan. My little nine-year-old sister Catherine looked at me with tears in her eyes, a look that I carried with me all the time I was away. She thought I was going back to Scotland to live; because that was what we all told her.

  The journey there was silent, even mum was stuck for words, and the lump in my throat was as if I had swallowed a cactus, and if anyone had said one word in sympathy I would have burst out crying in self-pity. I thought of Billy, and wondered what he was doing at that precise moment; enjoying himself no doubt, I imagined he never gave me or the baby a second thought. I rubbed my bump and mumbled to myself, never mind baby, I’ll make sure you have a good life. They’ll be no fingers pointing at you calling you a wee bastard. You’ll have a mum and dad that will no doubt cherish you and protect you from this entire horrible stigma that would follow you throughout your life if I had to keep you; and thank God you won’t really know what a low scum dad you really had. I turned and looked at Stan, he was a good honest fellow, he was concentrating on the road and I wondered if his feelings were of heartbreak because I was going away for three months, or would he be glad to get back to normality without all this last three months of nothing but hassle, secrecy, and having to care for someone the shape of a beached whale. I turned and glanced at my mum who noticed me and gently took my hand in hers and squeezed with a forced smile on tight lips. I smiled forced a smile back and stared out the window thinking everything will be alright. Who needs Billy anyway?

  As we drove up to the house I was a bit surprised. I didn’t see a large haunted mansion, or a prison like building, but a beautiful large house. As Stan took out my case from the back of the van I glanced over the house that was to be my home for the next three months, admiring the stone brickwork and the lovely big bay windows. My eyes took me up to the little attic window where I noticed a few girls faces looking down at me and waving, so through politeness I cheekily smiled and waved back as if I was being reunited with old friends. I could see the girls giggling to each other; because I was, and it made me feel better, it was then I realised that I was not alone; these girls were in the same predicament as me.

  Stan stayed in the van because I didn’t want him to go in with us just in case they thought of him as the baby’s father. As mum carried my case up to the door, my throat was dry, my heart was thumping in my chest, and it felt like butterflies having a fight in my stomach. When a woman in a Salvation Army uniform answered the door I sheltered behind mum. She led us through a large square hall to a room where she knocked at the huge oak door then walked away without another word. When I heard the words, ‘Come in.’ I froze. Mum ushered me in as if it was my first day at school. Sitting behind a huge desk was a lady dressed in a Salvation Army Officers uniform. She looked like one of Charles Dickens characters; plump with rosy cheeks. She told us to take a seat and asked me all kinds of questions, especially about the father, and why I wanted to get the baby adopted. I answered her questions the best way I could; remembering what the health visitor told me that the home was only for girls who had no other choice. I had to convince her that I had no other option and was in the position that I needed to go through with this as there was no choice. I told her the situation at home where we were all crushed into a three bedroom terrace house and explained the bedroom situation, I was frightened in case mum contradicted me and told her that she was willing to keep the baby; but she didn’t.

  She asked for my Maternity Allowance Book, explaining it was to cover my stay there for the next three months, and th
at I would receive ten shillings a week back for any personal items I wanted to purchase. She explained the girls attended Antenatal Clinic on a Tuesday, and then afterwards were free to shop at the local shops for the items they wished to buy. There would be no alcohol allowed, and no smoking in the building. Mum handed over my Maternity Allowance Book, as she continued to give me all the rules of the house. Mum asked her what the girls did all day, and she told her not to worry because we wouldn’t have time to be bored because all the girls had chores to do. She told mum visiting time was on a Saturday afternoon from two until six o’clock, and after the birth of baby between feeding times; from three till five o’clock. We must have spent over an hour in her office, with her explaining the do and don’ts of the house rules.

  After we came out she took my mum and I around the ground floor. First of all to the kitchen, and showed us where all the meals were prepared, then into the dining room where all the tables were set with white tablecloths, cutlery and plates all set ready just to sit down. Finally she opened the door to the Nursery Room, and the sight of baby cribs sent a shiver right down my spine; it brought tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat making me realise what I was there for. The little square cribs were all down each side with a little stool nestled in between each one. Huge windows along the bottom wall gave the impression that the outside world was looking in. My mum could see I was upset, and put her arms around me saying,

  ‘Don’t worry hen, three months is nothing; you’ll be home before you know where you are.’ That made me worse, what I really wanted her to say was come on hen your not stopping here.

  The Brigadier asked mum if she would like a cup of tea or coffee, but mum said she would have to go because she had left the lad who kindly drove us here in the van, and was waiting outside. Mum gave me a hug and a kiss and told me to look after myself and that she would visit me next Saturday. As she turned away I got a glimpse of tears in her eyes and when the Brigadier opened the door for her she disappeared outside without looking back. The door closed before I got the chance to wave goodbye to Stan.

  The Brigadier disappeared into another room which she hadn’t showed us, leaving me alone in the hall with my case at my feet. After about five minutes she reappeared with a girl who looked as if she was having twins, and looked no older than a schoolgirl, she asked her to take me to my room. I picked up my case and followed her. We passed a beautiful wide sweeping staircase with banisters in a dark shiny wood that shone and twisted its way up to the first floor. I wondered why we didn’t use the stairs; and thought maybe there was a lift. I asked why we passed the stairs and that I thought we were going to the top floor. She explained we were, but not up those main stairs as they were for the private patients on the first floor only. She led me to a basic staircase that was out of sight from the Main Front Hall. I introduced myself and she said her name was Maureen and that she had only been there for just over a week. I asked her if she was one of the girls I saw at the upstairs window. She said she was, because Brigadier told them in the morning to make up a bed because a new girl was coming in the afternoon, so after lunch they thought they’d look out for my arrival, something that the girls did.

  As we climbed the stairs to the attic I don’t know who was the most out of breath, her or me. By the time I struggled all the way up two flights of stairs with my suitcase I was completely shattered. We sat on the top stair for a rest until we got our breath back. I said I felt like a mountaineer after climbing all them stairs, and that I’d hate to forget anything, and have to go all the way back to get it. She told me it had happened to her a few times, to which we both burst out laughing. I liked Maureen, and we stayed friends all the three months we were there, of course the language was a bit to overcome as she was Welsh; it was like the clash of the clans. We walked down a long corridor past two bedroom doors adjacent to each other. These rooms were occupied by the girls who had had their babies. I remember thinking to myself; ‘I wish I was in there’ the next two doors facing each other were the bathrooms which consisted of three hand basins and one bath enclosed within. We came to the last two adjacent rooms and stopped outside one of the doors. Maureen opened it. The sight that faced me was like a scene out of the novel; Tom Brown’s School Days. Six beds, three down each side of the room, each with a small wardrobe that when opened had two drawers at the bottom and a mirror on the door. It was basic but it fitted all my clothes and toiletries. As I unpacked Maureen sat on the edge of my bed and we had a good old chat to each other. I asked her if any of the girls smoked, and when she said yes, and that she did herself, I felt better, although I never smoked a lot; I couldn’t afford to, I liked to have a fag after meals.

  Within an hour we knew each other’s reason for being there. Her mother died when she was only nine years old, and she and her older sister was brought up with their grandma, but her grandma died when she was only fourteen and she was forced to live with her sister who by then was married with two children. Her sister’s husband had a brother about the same age as Maureen and they started going out together. After three months of going out with him she found herself pregnant. When she told him, he denied it was his and finished with her. She hid it as long as she could then was forced to tell her sister. Her sister was angry and had words with her husband, who took his brothers side. It caused a lot of trouble in their house. He eventually told Maureen she had to go, because he didn’t want her in his house. She left the house and moved from friend to friend until it was time to go into the home. I told her all about Billy and having to move down from Scotland to England and how he also took fright, and soon found someone else. As we sat on the bed, chatting I asked her what it was like living here, and what the girls were like. She said the girls were all nice and came from every part of Britain; England, Ireland, Wales, and now Scotland.

  When I asked what she did with herself all day in a place like this she laughed saying you don’t get time to feel bored because you are on the go from when you open your eyes until you close them, tables to set, meals to cook, dishes to wash and cleaning to do.

  After I had unpacked we made our way downstairs. First Maureen took me into the girls’ lounge and introduced me, to some of the girls who had had their babies and were anxiously waiting for the bell to ring for feeding time. When it rang the girls excitedly rushed to the nursery. As soon as the door opened you could hear all the babies crying in unison. The girls rushed in and took a clean nappy off the pile that lay on the table just inside the door, then headed for the crib their baby was in. One by one the crying stopped because they were being fed. When the last girl was in an officer closed the door.

  We made our way to the kitchen where I met the rest of the girls with their bumps; some bigger than others, wobbling about trying to dodge each other’s bump as they moved about from one part of the kitchen to the other. They were busy cooking under the supervision of the cook, a little plump middle aged woman who had a haircut like a man and a squeaky voice like a little five-year-old. She was giving out orders to the girls, who in return were back lashing her jokingly, and she seemed to be enjoying getting them all in a giggly laughing mood. She came over and put her hand on my shoulder and guided me aside.

  ‘You’ll soon settle in love, they’re a smashing bunch of girls here,’ she said in Liverpool twang. I asked if there was anything I could do to help. She smiled and she told me to enjoy the rest of today and just settle in. Tomorrow I would start my chores and because the girls worked on a rota, they’d soon put me in the picture. Whatever girl I team up with would show me what to do as the day went on. I got chatting to her and she told me she only came in for a couple of hours a day to cook what the girls had prepared for her she’d, then make a list of what she wanted preparing for the next day, then that was her finished. Which all in all only took a couple of hours a day at the most, the rest was up to the girls. She said what she did was voluntarily, just her way of helping girls who were desperate, because when she was twenty she had a baby out of wedlo
ck, so she knew what all us girls were going through. I liked her and I think all the other girls did too. She said that I would be taking over the chores of the girl who had gone into labour that morning, as that was the normal procedure here. One goes and someone else comes, and when one goes up to the labour ward to have their baby the newest person will take over her chores.

  Maureen and I asked the girls if anybody objected to us pairing up together, as we got to know one another. No one did so I felt more at ease; Maureen was pleased as well.

  That night after dinner the tables were reset ready for breakfast next morning. And although I didn’t need to, I helped the girls, and when all the dinner dishes were washed and put away, the night was our own. That was when I really got to know everyone, I thought they were all nice girls, not like the stigma that sticks to girls in that situation; sluts, common, anybodies, and the worse name of all, whores.

  I will never forget my first night there when we went to bed. The girls in the room I shared with were all smashing; we must have all chatted together for well over an hour about each other. One after the other they told me their reasons for being in the home. I listened and some of the reasons brought tears to my eyes. Every girl’s situation was different. One Irish girl told me she was kicked out the house by her father when he found out about her expecting a baby. He said she was not staying there to bring shame into the family. She came over to Liverpool and stayed with her aunt in a flat above a shop. But after the baby was born and adopted, she was hoping to go back to Ireland and to live with her married sister until she found a job and a flat of her own. Another girl told me she had a good job in an office which she loved; that was until she fell in love with one of the bosses. She found out he was married and told him they were finished, but he pleaded with her saying he didn’t love his wife and was leaving her and getting a divorce. She stupidly believed him, but when she told him she was pregnant, his attitude towards her changed dramatically. He started ignoring her and treated her like dirt, so she told him what she thought of him and left her job. She left and got a summer job at Butlins Holiday Camp for three or four months until she could hide her pregnancy no longer. She daren’t go home because her father was very strict., if he found out he would certainly throw her out, just like he did four years earlier with her older sister. She told her family she had got a job on a cruise ship and that she had a good job and was seeing a bit of the world, and would probably be home for Christmas. So after the baby’s born and adopted, she will go back home to her family where they will be none the wiser.