He snapped on the light. Forgetting his good intention, he yelled, ‘Tina, where’s my tea?’
Startled, she gaped at Joe through half-open eyes. ‘What time is it?’
‘Gone seven. Where’s my tea?’ he repeated.
She levered herself up into a sitting position. ‘I didn’t feel up to going out, sorry Joe. You can go ter fish shop,’ she said, brushing damp, greasy hair away from her face.
He looked down at her, anger welling up. ‘I’ve been bloody well working hard all day and you’ve been lazing about.’ He felt like slapping her, but, instead, he turned away and stomped from the room, down the stairs, banging the outside door as he left. He heard Julie start to cry.
After a pint, a couple of pickled eggs, a chat to his mates about cars and football, Joe enjoyed himself in the pub until he felt guilty at storming out on Tina. ‘Night, lads,’ he called, dashing off.
Quietly, he let himself into the flat and crept up the stairs. He thought the baby would be in her cot and Tina would be watching the television he’d hired for them. He was going to tell her how sorry he was. The sitting room door was open and he stood in the doorway surveying the scene. The light was glaring down on a sleeping Tina with the baby held loosely in her arms.
In a few strides he was by their sides. Gently, he eased his sleeping daughter from her mother’s arms and carried her carefully into the bedroom and tucked her into the cot. He gazed down upon her, it never ceased to amaze him that he, Joe Miller, was partly responsible for making this tiny being. He touched Julie’s outstretched hand with his little finger and she grasped it tightly. This brought tears to Joe’s eyes. Now, he felt so ashamed for being angry with Tina. This little mite was dependant on them both, her parents. Back in the sitting room, Tina hadn’t stirred and Joe noticed for the first time how worn-out she looked. Tenderly, he made her comfortable on the sofa, lifting up her feet and covering her with a blanket. He kissed her on the forehead, his heart full of love for her. Cursing himself for being such a chump, he went to an empty bed.
The baby woke him around six in the morning with her bellowing cries of hunger. He picked her up and she dripped. He held her aloft. This was to be his first nappy changing venture. He was terrified as he gently and scarily manoeuvred the tiny wriggling body, making Julie dry and secure. When he finished and sat back on his heels for a breather, she stared up at him, her eyes twinkling as if to say, ‘You took your time.’ Then she bellowed for her food. Tina was now awake and Joe smiled at her, eager to tell her of his achievement. Tina nodded her appreciation.
Joe made tea and toast, and they sat on the floor eating and drinking, and a now-contented Julie was lying on a blanket between them, testing her limbs.
Joe glanced at Tina. ‘Sorry about last night. I’d had a hard day.’
Tina, feeling a little better, laughed it off, saying, ‘So am I. Let’s have a fresh start.’ She leant across the kicking baby and kissed Joe.
‘You go and have a bath,’ he said, ‘and we’ll go out for dinner.’
So, the proud parents walked through Saturday Market, thronged with a multitude of stalls and shoppers. An even prouder Joe pushed the pram, stopping occasionally to talk to people who wanted to admire the baby. Finally, they arrived at The Magpie, which boasted an annexe where children were welcome. They tucked into pie and peas, and Joe kept a tender eye on Julie.
They were just finishing eating when a familiar voice said, ‘Hello, you two.’
‘Shirley,’ said Joe. ‘I thought you were still on your travels.’
She looked tanned and sported an air of sophistication. ‘I’ve been back a couple of weeks.’
Just then, Julie stirred and whimpered and Joe hoisted her out of the pram and onto his lap.
‘Whose baby is it?’ asked Shirley, not seeing Joe as the babyminding type.
Eyes shining, chest expanding, Joe announced, proudly, ‘It’s our baby, mine and Tina’s.’
Shirley stared in amazement and promptly sat down on the chair next to Tina. Unable to keep the surprise out of her voice, she said to Tina, ‘You’ve had a baby?’
Wiping her lips with a serviette Tina smiled, serenely, for the first time feeling rather superior over Shirley who always seemed much better than her. ‘Yes, this is our beautiful daughter, Julie.’
‘She’s gorgeous,’ Shirley enthused. ‘Mam never mentioned it in her letters and come to think of it neither did Mike. Does he know you’ve got a baby?’
Tina and Joe exchanged a quick glance. Joe said, ‘Keeping in touch isn’t my thing.’
Suddenly, Shirley caught Tina’s left hand, touched the shining gold band and exclaimed in astonishment. ‘You’re married as well!’
Tina slipped her hand into Joe’s, saying, with such pleasure, ‘Yes, we’re married.’
Shirley was silent for a moment, as if to take it all in. Then she said cheerfully, ‘I’ve kept in touch regularly with Mike – letters and the odd postcard. I’ll write and tell him your good news.’ Someone shouted her name. ‘Gotta go, bye.’
They watched her as she left and Tina wondered what the outcome would be if Shirley told Mike.
Chapter Thirty-One
Fran was over her cold and was looking forward to seeing Tina, Joe and baby Julie, so she invited them over to share a meal. Now, as they were all gathered around the kitchen table to eat, Fran scanned the happy faces, though, she thought, Tina looked a bit peaky. Julie, having been fed, now by bottle, and made comfortable, was sleeping peacefully in her carrying cot.
The meal was a happy occasion and there was plenty of beer left, but, surprisingly, Joe opted for soft drinks. Nick set up his camera on a tripod, unobtrusively in a corner, but in an excellent position to capture everyone. Michael will love the pictures, thought Fran, especially seeing baby Julie, his niece and his sister, Tina. A moment of sadness flickered across her eyes. Isabel still hadn’t replied to her letter. Across the table from her sat Tina and Fran noticed that she wasn’t eating very much. She watched her toying with food, pushing it around the plate. Tina’s not well, she thought. Then Joe said something to Tina, Fran couldn’t hear what, but he looked concerned. Later, she would see if Tina wanted any help with the baby. Then, right on cue, Julie let out a loud cry, kicking back her blanket, her tiny fists punching the air.
Wearily, Tina made to rise from her chair, but Joe was on his feet and by his daughter’s side. He lifted her from her cot, holding her at a safe distance he said, ‘Phew, she pongs.’
Swiftly, Fran went to Joe. ‘I’ll take her. You finish eating.’ She took her granddaughter into her arms and whisked her from the room before anyone could blink twice. She collected the baby bag from the hallway, all the time crooning to Julie, soothing her as she went up the stairs. As she changed the baby and made her comfortable, she thought of Isabel doing the same for Michael and Maggie looking after Tina. Deep down, the hurt was still with her. She stood for a moment, reflecting, and then, looking down at her cooing granddaughter, thought, This is what matters. She picked up Julie, went into her bedroom and sat down on the basket chair. With Julie resting in the crook of her arm, Fran nuzzled the soft, downy hair, smelling the fresh warmth of this special baby and, as she did so, experienced the most wondrous feeling of contentment.
After a few precious minutes of pure bonding, she said to her granddaughter, ‘Come on my lovely, let’s go back to your mammy.’
Downstairs, she placed the sleeping baby in Tina’s arms. ‘Thanks,’ said Tina, holding her daughter close. ‘I didn’t realise a baby so small could demand so much attention, but she’s a beauty.’ She leant forward, kissing Fran on the cheek, and said, ‘I’m so glad I found you.’
Fran felt a lump rising in her throat and tears of joy sprinkled her lashes. ‘You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Now, you and Joe go and relax in the sitting room.’ Tina placed the baby back in her cot and Joe carried it.
‘Coffee’s ready,’ called Nick, as he turned from the stove.
Fran took Tina and Joe’s into the sitting room and was just about to leave when Joe said, ‘Fran, would you mind Julie while I take Tina for a spin on the bike? Fresh air will do her good.’
‘Of course I can, Joe. Anything to help.’ So Joe went off to fetch his bike and, in a short time, the young couple set off.
Nick and Will were chatting in the kitchen and Fran settled in the sitting room with the sleeping Julie. She picked up the Lady magazine which she’d bought earlier but, soon, her eyes grew heavy and she half slumbered, remaining conscious of the baby in her care.
It was the faint whimper of Julie which stirred her. Opening her eyes, Fran was startled to find the room filled with dark, gloomy shadows. Rising from the sofa, she flicked on a table lamp, not wanting the harsh glare of the ceiling bulb to startle her granddaughter. She picked up the tiny, warm bundle from her cot and crooned, ‘My darling little angel.’
In the kitchen, she found Nick making a pot of tea and Will listening to Hancock’s Half Hour on the wireless. Surprised not to see Tina and Joe, she asked, ‘Haven’t they come home yet?’
‘No,’ replied Nick, looking through the window at the darkening sky, a frown on his face.
Fran glanced at the wall clock. ‘They’ve been gone over three hours.’
Sensing her anxiety, Nick soothed, ‘I expect they went further than intended.’
Fran busied herself preparing the baby’s feed. The cup of tea Nick gave her was untouched.
Another hour passed. Julie was fed, changed and now asleep in her carrycot, close to her doting great-grandfather. ‘We’ll just go out into the lane, Dad, won’t be long.’
Rufus answered the loud knocking on his door and exclaimed, ‘Well, what an unexpected pleasure.’ Then he saw their anxious faces. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Tina and Joe; they’re out on the motorbike and haven’t come home yet. We’re worried.’ Fran’s voice trailed off. She felt near to tears.
‘What direction did they go in?’ asked Rufus.
‘The coast,’ Nick answered.
‘Right, you two go home. I’ll take the Land Rover and head in that direction.’ He shouted his intentions to Helga, and grabbed his jacket. He said, ‘I’ll be in touch.’
As they walked back down the lane, Fran said, hopefully, ‘They could be home sitting in the kitchen and we’ve worried unnecessarily.’ Nick didn’t speak, but tightened his hold on her hand.
Back home, the kitchen was quiet. Julie was sleeping. Will looked up expectedly. Fran shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She sat down near to Julie and stared at the sleeping child. The fire in the grate spat and crackled, and Fran shivered. She dared not think.
‘They could have stopped off to see friends and lost track of the time,’ Nick said, optimistically.
Fran jerked her head up, a ray of hope in her eyes. ‘Do you think so?’
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘But I don’t know who their friends are.’ She jumped up, saying, ‘I’ll ring Joe’s sister.’
‘Fran, sit down, I think it’s best to wait until we hear from Rufus.’
Rufus travelled slowly along the coast road. Traffic was light, eerily so. He strained his eyes. Ahead, he could see lights flashing and whirling: an ambulance, a police car blocking the road, figures moving about. Approaching nearer he saw it. His heart went cold. It was a motorcycle, spread across the hard surface of the road. Quickly, he brought the Land Rover to a halt and jumped out, running to the scene of the accident, his breathing heavy. He’d seen that motorbike earlier, when the couple on it passed him down the lane and waved to him.
A policeman came towards him. ‘Sir?’
Rufus, his voice hoarse, blurted. ‘The accident – is it a young couple?’
It was Fran who heard the Land Rover arrive as its tyres spurted gravel. She jumped up and went to the door, throwing it open. ‘Rufus, I …’ Then she saw his face, tense, sad. ‘What is it?’ she asked, her voice barely audible. His answer was to put his arm about her shoulders and draw her back into the house. Nick came to stand by Fran and Will shakily got to his feet.
In the light of the kitchen, Rufus’ face was ashen and his eyes glistened with moisture. His voice faltered. ‘I think we’d all better sit down.’ Silently, the four sat round the kitchen table, sombre faced, so very, very different from the dinner party earlier in the day.
Rufus cleared his throat. ‘There’s no easy way to say this.’ His eyes were fixed on Fran’s across the table from him. ‘There’s been an accident and Joe is dead.’
‘No!’ cried Fran, a cold shiver ran the length of her body. ‘Joe dead, but how?’ But before Rufus could answer, Fran cried out again, ‘Tina?’
Rufus wiped his sweating brow with the back of his hand. ‘She’s injured and in hospital.’
‘My darling daughter!’ Fran cried, jumping up. ‘I must go to her.’ She sobbed.
‘I’ll take you,’ Nick said, drawing her into his arms, comforting her. Then he looked over the top of her head to Rufus. ‘The baby?’
‘I’ll take her to Helga. She’ll cope with the infant.’
On the nightmare journey to the Kingston General Hospital in Hull, neither she nor Nick spoke. The only sound in the car was the swish, swish of the windscreen wipers, grating, making her head ache even more. They pulled into the bleak car park and, shoulders hunched, they ran to the reception office, where they were told that Tina had been admitted to ward ten, the emergency ward that evening. Inside the ward, lights were low and nurses were quietly going about their tasks. Fran and Nick hovered just inside the door, both still in shock, uncertain what to do, when a nurse came to show them to the ward sister’s office.
‘You are?’ said the sister, briskly.
Fran opened her mouth but no sound came out. A lump welled up in her throat. It was Nick who spoke. ‘This is Mrs Meredith.’ He gently eased Fran forward. ‘Her daughter, Christine Miller was admitted following a road accident.’
The sister’s face softened. ‘She is being attended to and the doctor will come to speak to you later. For now, I will take you both along to the waiting room, where a member of staff will come and take Mrs Miller’s details.’
Formalities dealt with, an auxiliary nurse brought them two cups of hot, sweet tea. They sat near a window, oblivious of the ink-stained sky turning into a grey dawn.
Finally, a weary young man wearing a creased white coat approached them. ‘Mrs Meredith?’
‘Yes.’ Fran looked up, searching his eyes, seeing no clue. Simultaneously, she and Nick rose.
‘I’m Doctor Patterson. Your daughter, Christine Miller has regained consciousness and her condition is stable. However, she has serve bruising to her forehead and the right side of her face. She has a fracture of the right arm, her ulna, and to the right ankle.’
Fran gasped and Nick said, ‘Can we see her?’
The doctor looked at Nick. ‘You are Christine’s father?’
‘No, but I’m a close family friend.’
The doctor replied, ‘For now, just Mrs Meredith and only for two minutes.’
Nothing could have prepared Fran for the sight of Tina. Her face was ragged and greyish-white, with an ugly red-mauve-stained gash down the side of her right cheek. There was a drip attached to her good arm. Fran wished Nick was here to support her. She took a deep breath, steadied herself and went to the bedside of her beloved child. ‘Tina, my darling daughter,’ she whispered.
Tina responded by opening her heavy eyelids. ‘Fran.’
Gently, Fran touched Tina’s free hand, it was so cold and limp. Tears welled up in her eyes and she forced herself to speak. ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘My head hurts.’ Her eyes flicked to her legs encased beneath a support tunnel. ‘Julie, where is she?’ she whispered.
‘Julie is fine. She’s with Rufus and his wife, Helga, and they are looking after her until I go home. So don’t fret about your daughter, just you get well, my darling.’
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‘Joe, can I see Joe?’
A sob caught in Fran’s throat. How could she answer? The nurse nearby intervened.
‘Mrs Meredith,’ said the nurse quietly, ‘time to go.’
Outside the ward, the shock unbearable, she collapsed, sobbing into Nick’s waiting arms.
‘Come on, let me get you home,’ he urged.
The next day, both Fran and Nick were present at the hospital when the doctor decided it was now safe to tell Tina of Joe’s death.
‘I knew,’ Tina whispered. And then she wept. Fran held her hand as her daughter began her grieving for the man she loved, the daddy of her baby girl.
Caring for Julie, doing something useful, helped Fran not to dwell on the fragile figure of her daughter lying in the hospital bed. What did surprise her, was the co-operation of Helga, Rufus’s wife. After caring for Julie on that fateful night, she sent hot meals down to High Bank with Rufus. Though appreciative of Helga’s help, Fran was thankful when Nancy came home. They shared the hospital visiting and the caring of Julie.
Deirdre Baker, Isabel’s friend, on hearing of the tragic death of Joe and of Tina’s injuries, telephoned to offer her help. ‘I can drive you to the hospital.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind,’ said Fran.
‘No problem, dear. Michael must be devastated at the terrible news of Joe’s death.’
‘Michael?’ In all the happenings, Fran hadn’t given a thought to Michael. ‘Michael doesn’t know.’ Just then Julie, who had been popped into Will’s arms when the phone rang, let out a holler. ‘Sorry, I must go.’
She went back into the kitchen and relieved Will of the precious bundle. ‘You all right, love?’ asked Will, seeing her strained face. ‘Not bad news?’
The Yearning Heart Page 24