The Kew Gardens Girls

by Posy Lovell

  “Would you believe it?”

  “What does he say?”

  “He says sorry.”

  Ivy snorted and Louisa chuckled.

  “That’s what I thought at first, but I’ve read it over and over and I think he’s sincere. It’s all down to Bernie.”

  Ivy made a face. “What? Read it to me.”

  She sat down at the table with a grunt, loosening her waistband as she did. She was so tiny that her pregnancy had been easy to hide so far, but she was getting further along now and Louisa knew she must be uncomfortable, though she never complained.

  “Ready?”

  Ivy nodded, and Louisa read out the letter.

  “Goodness,” Ivy said when she’d finished. “That’s a turnup for the books.”

  “Isn’t it just?”

  “What do you think?”

  Louisa shrugged. “I can’t forgive him.”

  Ivy ran her hand over her swelling stomach. “Don’t blame you.”

  Louisa watched her friend gently caressing her baby and nodded. “But maybe it’s time to put it all behind me.”

  “You should plant something,” Ivy said. “As a memorial to your baby.”

  Louisa blinked away tears. “That’s a lovely idea.”

  Ivy was thinking. “Lilies,” she said. “They’re a symbol of a mother’s love.”

  Touched, Louisa could only nod.

  “I’ll give you a corner of my letter garden,” Ivy said. “There’s a patch in the corner that catches the sun just at the right time. We’ll do it in the spring.”

  “Thank you,” Louisa said, and Ivy smiled at her.

  “We’re family now, Lou. Need to look out for each other.”

  Louisa fixed her with a stern look. “Speaking of which . . .”

  Ivy threw her head back, clearly recognizing from Louisa’s tone what was coming.

  “I don’t want to,” she said.

  “Ivy, look at the size of you. Someone will realize soon. You need to tell your mum, and probably Jim’s mum, too.”

  “I know,” Ivy said. “I’m just scared about what they’ll say. Mum will be worried about money . . .”

  “There’s no need,” Louisa jumped in. “You know that. Win’s said you and the baby can live with her for as long as you want. And I’ll help whenever I can. This baby is going to have one mother and two very devoted godmothers.”

  Ivy smiled. “I know. But it’s not right, is it? Expecting when I’m not married, and I’ve no idea where Jim is or even if he’s ever coming home. I’m worried about what everyone will think.”

  “I understand. I’ll come with you when you tell your mum, if you like?”

  “Yes, please. She won’t get so angry if you’re there.”

  “You don’t need to tell Jim’s mum yet, I don’t think. Wait until the baby arrives,” Louisa said thoughtfully. “If you think that’s best. But you will have to tell her one day.”

  Ivy shrugged. “I know.”

  “Do you know what?” Louisa leaned over the table conspiratorially.

  “What?”

  “I bet you’re not the only girl in this position.”

  Ivy looked surprised. “Really?”

  “Course not. All the men off at the Front? Sad good-byes and no time for weddings? There are bound to be lots of war babies being born.”

  Ivy smiled. “I suppose.”

  “And it’s not ideal, but listen, if the worst happens and Jim doesn’t come home . . .”

  Ivy winced at her words and Louisa felt a stab of guilt. She took Ivy’s hand.

  “If he doesn’t come home, then we can buy a wedding ring and you can call yourself missus.”

  “But . . .” Ivy began, and Louisa shushed her.

  “We’ll make this work,” she said. “The three of us together.”

  “Four,” said Ivy, patting her stomach with a smile.

  “Four.”

  Louisa paused again, because there was something else she wanted to say and she wanted to make sure she said it right.

  “You need to tell Mac.”

  “No.”

  “Ivy.”

  “No, absolutely not. He’s such a moral bloke, Mac. He’s so black and white about things. He’ll be disappointed.” Ivy’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t bear for him to be disappointed in me.”

  Louisa shook her head. “He adores you, Ivy. And he adores Jim, too. He might be shocked but I don’t think he’ll be disappointed.”

  Ivy made a face. “I don’t want to.”

  “Ivy, you’re tired and uncomfortable, and it’s only going to get worse. You can’t bend down properly anymore. You’re breathless. I saw you pushing the wheelbarrow up that ramp the other day and I was terrified. It’s so slippery on the paths at the moment because of the snow, and there’s you pushing a wheelbarrow. What if you’d slipped and fallen onto your belly?”

  Louisa felt her voice catch and she took a breath, trying to calm down.

  “I’m just frightened that something’s going to happen to you. Or to the baby. I lost my baby because of Reg’s violence and your baby is only here because of it. The little one feels like a miracle and I couldn’t bear to lose another child, even if it’s not my own.”

  Ivy hugged her tummy. “I’m fine,” she said, but her voice was uncertain. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “But I do worry.”

  “I need to work, Louisa,” Ivy said. “If I’m doing this on my own, being a mum to this baby without Jim next to me, then I need money. Babies need clothes and somewhere to sleep, and then they grow up into children who need shoes and books and unbelievable amounts of food, if my brothers are anything to go by. It’s a lifetime commitment, isn’t it? And I know you and Win are standing by me, and believe me, I’d be lost without you, but I don’t want to rely on you forever.”

  “I hear what you’re saying,” Louisa said truthfully. She did understand the point Ivy was making—who knew what could happen in the future? Lives could be snuffed out in a second, babies born, relationships built. Ivy was young, but she was sensible, and preparing for life as a mother was the right thing to do.

  Louisa thought for a minute.

  “You could still work,” she said slowly. “As long as Mac’s on board, we can arrange the jobs so you do less physical things. You can order plants, and sweep the paths, and trim the hedges, perhaps. There’s not so much to do right now anyway, because it’s so cold. We can easily make allowances for your condition.”

  Ivy considered it. “There’s lots I can still do. For now, anyway.”

  “See? It’s all fine. You just need to tell Mac.”

  “I’ll think about it, is that good enough?”

  Louisa rolled her eyes. “For now,” she said. “But I’m going to keep nagging.”

  “S’all right. I quite like it,” Ivy said with a little smile. “Shows you care. Right, best get back out there before Mac wonders where we’ve got to.”

  She stood up with a grunt, rubbing her back. “Oof.”

  “Keep doing that and everyone will realize you’re expecting,” Louisa joked.

  Ivy stuck her tongue out and Louisa smiled to see her friend in good spirits. Things were tough for her, there was no doubt, but she was confident they could do this together. At least, she hoped they could.

  She shoved Reg’s letter into her locker, picked up a pair of dry gloves and looped her arm through Ivy’s.

  “Come on, then, fatty,” she said. “Let’s get going.”

  Chapter 29

  Later that day, Ivy lay on the settee in Win’s flat, exhausted by a hard day’s work and wondering if Louisa might have a point. She probably should tell Mac the truth about her pregnancy but she just couldn’t imagine saying the words. She’d not said them out loud to a
nyone. Perhaps she could give him some baby’s breath, she thought wryly. Then he could work it out like Win and Louisa had done.

  She sighed, arranging one of the cushions behind her head so she was more comfortable. Win didn’t like her lying on the sofa; she said it was unseemly. But Ivy was tired and she needed to lie down, and she liked being able to see the park out of the lounge window; her bedroom was on the other side and didn’t have the same view.

  Win was out for the evening. Ivy didn’t know where, but she assumed she had gone to another Suffragette meeting. Since Archie’s death, Win had thrown herself into the fight for women’s suffrage with vigor, regularly meeting up with her new friends and planning all sorts of action for when the war was over. If the war was ever over. It seemed never-ending, with worse news almost every day.

  She felt the baby wriggling and put her hands on her belly.

  “Hello,” she whispered. “Hello, baby.”

  As she was dropping off to sleep, a knock on the door roused her. She sat up. Who could that be? She knew Louisa was spending the evening with Teddy and no one else ever visited. Perhaps Win had forgotten her key. She heaved herself up off the couch and waddled to the door. And there, standing in the hall was a group of Suffragettes all carrying bundles, bags and boxes. Win was right at the back, looking very pleased with herself.

  “Hello!” Win called. “Can you let everyone in?”

  Bewildered, Ivy stood aside and watched as the women trooped into the lounge, carrying their loads.

  “What’s all this? What’s going on?” Ivy had no idea what was happening.

  Henrietta, one of Louisa’s Suffragette friends who Win had adopted, walked by with a laundry basket full of fabric. She smiled at Ivy. “Come and see,” she said.

  Ivy followed her into the lounge.

  “It’s all for you,” said Henrietta. “For your baby.”

  Ivy’s jaw dropped. “How did you . . . ?”

  Win gave her a sheepish smile. “I told them.”

  Ivy was bewildered. “What is all of this?”

  Henrietta put her basket down on the floor with a thump. “This is baby clothes,” she said. “None of it new, of course, but it’s all clean and mended. Things our littl’uns have worn and grown out of. You’ll be amazed how messy they get.”

  Ivy had no words.

  “And this is nappies,” said another woman, whose name, Ivy thought, was Elizabeth. She held up a bundle. “Some are a bit thin, but they’ll do.”

  “Clothes for you,” another one—Sophie—said, holding up a bulging bag. “A few bigger dresses and skirts. We thought you might want to be discreet, and a few larger bits will help.”

  Ivy blinked fast, trying to stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes from falling. “It’s all for me?”

  “That’s not all,” said Henrietta. She stepped to one side, showing a pretty wooden crib, painted with purple and green flowers.

  “Lucy’s husband’s a carpenter,” Henrietta said. “He made this for you with leftover wood from work. And Mary Clark painted the flowers.”

  Lucy and Mary both raised their hands. Ivy was crying properly now.

  “Suffragette colors,” she sobbed. “You painted the flowers in Suffragette colors.”

  Mary chuckled. “Well, of course.”

  Win came over to Ivy and put her arms round her. Feeling totally overwhelmed, Ivy wept on her shoulder.

  “I’m not sad,” she told the watching women. “I’m not sad, I’m happy.”

  When she’d gathered herself, she sat down and blew her nose loudly. Win sat on one side, Henrietta on the other, while Mary, Lucy, Sophie and Elizabeth all sat on the floor.

  “Why would you do this for me?” Ivy asked.

  “Because you need help,” Henrietta said simply. “You need help and we’re in a position to give it.”

  “When I told them about what had happened with Jim, everyone was so concerned,” Win explained. “And then one day I let slip about the baby. I’m sorry, Ivy, I know you wanted to keep it quiet. But I said something and Henrietta here put two and two together.”

  Ivy took her friend’s hand. “Don’t worry.”

  “Win explained you were finding it all a bit tricky, with not knowing about Jim, and working and that, so we thought we’d do what we could. When I mentioned it to the others, everyone wanted to pitch in.”

  Ivy gave them all a watery smile.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She blew her nose again. “Thank you so much.”

  Henrietta patted her knee. “We know what you’ve done for the cause over the years. The sacrifices you’ve made. Olive told me . . .”

  With horror, Ivy realized what Henrietta was about to say.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “It was nothing.” She’d never told anyone what she’d done on that dark evening when she was a young girl, and she certainly didn’t want Win to find out now. If Win knew, then it would only be a matter of time before Louisa found out and she wasn’t sure how her friend would take the news, given how much she loved Kew. Mind you, she loved the Suffragettes, too. Perhaps she’d understand?

  Henrietta was looking at Ivy with concern. “Are you feeling ill?”

  She forced a smile. “Just overwhelmed. I can’t believe you’ve all been planning this.”

  “It’s not much, just a few hand-me-downs. But you deserve this, Ivy. Your baby deserves it.”

  Ivy reached into the bag of baby clothes and pulled out a tiny knitted cardigan.

  “Ohhh, look at the size of it,” she breathed. “It’s lovely.”

  “My Albie wore that,” Mary said. “Now he’s taller than me. It doesn’t seem possible.”

  Ivy chuckled. “I don’t reckon my baby will ever be as tall as your Albie, not with me and Jim as its parents.”

  “We know it’s tough, not knowing where Jim is or what’s happened to him,” said Elizabeth, worry etched in her face. “We’ve all had a taste of what that’s like. Win’s lost Archie, and Sophie’s nephew was killed, and I’ve lost my brother. We want to help you, be here for you when the baby’s born. We’re not blood-related, but we’re family.”

  Ivy felt a rush of love so powerful she almost felt dizzy. They were family. These were her sisters, sitting here with her, promising to look after her. She was so lucky to have them. It was as though the worry that had weighed her down for months and months was suddenly lifted. This would be all right, she thought. Even if—God forbid—Jim didn’t come back, she would be all right. Because she had her baby, a tiny creature created from the love she and Jim shared, and she had her Suffragette sisters, who would stand by her, no matter what.

  “I think we should have tea,” Win said. “I’ll go and make some. And I think there might be some shortbread in the cupboard, if Ivy’s not polished it all off.”

  “I did,” Ivy admitted. “But Edith brought round some more.”

  Win bustled off to start making tea, and Elizabeth and Sophie went to help. Ivy began opening the bags and admiring all the clothes the women had brought.

  “This is wonderful,” she said, holding up a loose-cut skirt. “This could be useful for work.”

  Henrietta frowned. “Win said you’ve not told anyone at work.”

  “No.”

  “Do you think it’s time?”

  Ivy hugged a little pair of knitted bootees to her chest. “No.”

  “Ivy?”

  “You sound like Louisa.”

  Henrietta smiled. “Louisa is very sensible.”

  “She’s worried I could hurt the baby by doing such physical work.”

  Henrietta nodded. “It’s possible. You’ve not got long to go now. You don’t want to take any risks.”

  “I’m scared to tell Mac, though. What if he turfs me out of Kew?”

  “What if who turfs you out o
f Kew?” Win came into the room carrying a tea tray and caught the end of what Ivy was saying.

  “Mac,” Ivy explained. “I was just saying to Henrietta that I’m frightened to tell him about the baby. Because I’m scared I’ll lose my job.”

  “Piffle, darling,” Win said. “Mac adores you. As he should, because you are adorable.”

  “He adores me now,” said Ivy glumly. “He might change his mind when he realizes I’m expecting and I’m not married.”

  “I’m sure he won’t.”

  Henrietta and Mary had been whispering and now Henrietta looked up with a cheeky grin.

  “If the worst comes to the worst, and he does sack you,” she said, her smile growing wider, “we’ll start another campaign to get you your job back. We’ll march up and down outside like we did with the wages.”

  Ivy laughed. “I believe you’d do it.”

  “Oh, we’d do it.”

  “So don’t you worry one bit,” Mary said. Ivy smiled at her. She was a woman in her late fifties or possibly early sixties, with a dimpled smile and the energy of a far younger woman. “We’re here to support you in any way you need us to. And that baby will have a whole bunch of aunties on hand to cuddle it and rock it to sleep and tell it off when it’s cheeky.”

  “Then my baby will be the luckiest baby in London,” said Ivy. “Just as I’m the luckiest girl.”

  “Will you tell him?” Henrietta said. “Tell Mac, and get him to look after you, too. You know you should.”

  Ivy took a breath. “I will tell him. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

  Chapter 30

  When tomorrow came, she was so nervous she thought she might vomit. She practiced different ways of saying it.

  “I’m having a baby,” she said, looking at her face in the mirror as she tried to tame her hair. “I’m expecting.”

  Louisa was thrilled when Ivy told her she was going to tell Mac that day.

  “You know it’s the right thing to do,” she said. “You’ll feel better once it’s done.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’ve been practicing.”

  “Just tell him you’re having a baby—Jim’s baby—and I promise you he’ll be happy,” Louisa said.