Father Unknown

by Lesley Pearse

  Ellen felt too wretched to be cautious. She blurted out the whole story about Pierre, including the fact that they’d made love.

  ‘Ellen!’ Josie gasped, her eyes widening in astonishment. ‘I can’t believe you’d do that. You’ve always been the sensible one.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone’s sensible when they fall in love,’ Ellen said sadly. ‘I could have sworn he meant everything he said, but he went away without even saying goodbye.’

  ‘Maybe something happened to stop him. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Dave.’

  Ellen shook her head. ‘I’ve been through all that in my mind, but I know the truth now. He was just using me. If he’d really cared, he could have left a message at the kiosk.’

  Josie took Ellen’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Don’t say that, I can’t bear to think of anyone hurting you.’

  ‘I’m getting over it,’ Ellen said, but the tears forming in her eyes proved that wasn’t true.

  Josie looked at her for a moment. ‘You couldn’t be pregnant, could you?’ she said.

  ‘Don’t say that,’ Ellen exclaimed. ‘I feel miserable enough already. You can’t get pregnant the first time, can you?’

  Josie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But Auntie Susan gave me a bit of a talking to when she saw me snogging with Dave. She told me about one of her friends’ daughters who got pregnant to a sailor at HMS Culdrose, that naval place near Helston. He got shipped off overseas, and she was left to face the music on her own.’

  Suddenly Ellen felt very uneasy. She hadn’t even considered pregnancy, heartbreak was enough to cope with, but now she came to think about it, the last period she’d had was before she met Pierre. That was at least five weeks ago.

  ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone all white!’ Josie said, and moved to her sister’s side to cuddle her. ‘You aren’t late, are you?’

  ‘I think I am,’ Ellen said in a whisper.

  ‘It could be just because you’ve been upset,’ Josie said, tenderly stroking her sister’s face. ‘I don’t always get mine on the right day. Oh shit, I wish I hadn’t said anything now.’

  ‘We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?’ Ellen said with a sigh. ‘You don’t want to be here, I won’t either if it turns out I’m pregnant. Dad and Mum are going to be fighting all the time. What the hell are we going to do?’

  ‘Run away together?’ Josie said.

  For just a second or two that idea sounded wonderful to Ellen. But her common sense came back almost immediately. ‘You can’t run anywhere; you aren’t old enough to leave school. And don’t you say a word to Mum or Dad about this, will you?’

  ‘Of course I won’t,’ Josie promised. ‘But before we go back home, I’ve got to tell you something else.’

  ‘What? You haven’t done it too?’

  Josie laughed. ‘No, but I was tempted to, Dave was so lovely. What I wanted to say is that I’ll have to be a real misery at home. It’s the Only thing that might make Mum send me back to Uncle Brian’s. It will mean I’ll have to pretend to be nasty to you, and upset Dad too. I’ll be just the same as usual when we’re on our own. But not when we’re indoors.’

  Ellen shrugged. She felt so low now that nothing could make her any worse. ‘Okay. Well, if I am pregnant, I suppose you being nasty all the time could be a good reason for me leaving.’

  ‘You mustn’t do that!’ Josie’s eyes widened with alarm. ‘I couldn’t bear it.’

  ‘I’ll have to, won’t I?’ Ellen said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Dad will be furious if I am. And even if he calmed down enough to agree he’d stand by me, could you imagine Mum being nice about it?’

  Josie just looked bleak for she was remembering her mother’s instructions yesterday as they packed to come home. Her new role was to push Ellen into leaving the farm. If she didn’t, she couldn’t go back to Helston. Violet’s reasoning was that if Albert didn’t have Ellen to help him, he’d be much more likely to agree to sell.

  When Josie was given this ultimatum, she had been preoccupied with planning her own escape route, and it hardly registered how cruel her mother was being about Ellen. But this latest development was likely to scupper everyone’s plans. If Ellen was pregnant, she was far more likely to reveal the truth than just run off. That was the way she was. Dad would fly off the handle too, but in the end he’d stand by Ellen. When the baby was born, Mum wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting Dad to sell the farm. And where was it going to leave her?

  ‘I don’t think you can really be pregnant,’ Josie said hopefully. ‘We’re just getting carried away. But let’s playact that we’ve fallen out for good for now, then whatever happens we’ll be able to help one another.’

  By the middle of October, when no period had arrived, Ellen had to face the fact that she was pregnant. She tried to blot it out, to believe it couldn’t be happening to her, but in her heart she knew. Her breasts were tender, she sometimes felt nauseous in the mornings when she smelled bacon cooking, and she discovered by consulting a book in the library that both these things were symptoms.

  By day Ellen could blank it out. Being in the sixth form at school gave her many privileges; it was more relaxed than the rest of the school. She liked schoolwork and her teachers. But as soon as she got home, the anxiety came back, for the atmosphere there was stifling.

  She couldn’t escape by helping her father around the farm, because she had so much homework, and Violet never missed an opportunity to belittle her or blame her for something. As for Josie, she made things even more intolerable because she’d stuck to her plan of never speaking unless they were alone.

  Her father had become completely unapproachable. He came indoors to eat his meals, bolted them down and then shot out again. Misery showed in his face, and she guessed that whenever she and Josie were out, Violet harangued him about selling the farm, perhaps even resorting to blackmail by telling him she’d go for good if he made it worth her while.

  Ellen so much wanted to search him out and talk to him, to tell him she was firmly on his side, but Violet was very watchful, constantly giving her jobs to do, forcing her to do her homework. And when she was pleasant, it was only to go on about what good opportunities there were for young girls in the big cities, and that only a fool would want to stay in Cornwall.

  Dad had even dropped his day of rest on Sundays. October was one of the busiest months, with ploughing to be done and the sheds and barns needing repairs before the winter, but that had never stopped him going to church or snoozing in the afternoon before. Ellen wanted to cry when she saw him outside all day. She knew how important his religion was to him, and she felt he would fall ill if he didn’t get some rest.

  The holidaymakers all disappeared as the leaves fell from the trees and the autumn storms began. As Ellen battled up the lane to catch the bus to school in high winds, sidestepping the thick mud, she no longer delighted in the squirrels jumping from tree to tree, or the odd sighting of a fox or badger – all she could think of was her hopeless predicament.

  She no longer imagined Pierre coming back to claim her. By now she had accepted he had only wanted her for sex and she’d been a mug to have believed it was love.

  All her high hopes for the future, college or even university, were dashed. The following May she would have a baby, with no husband and no money. She had no idea what she was going to do.

  During half term, right at the end of October, Violet sent Ellen to the village one afternoon to get some shopping. In the past, Ellen had always worked with her father during holidays, but this time Violet had refused to let her. She was so crafty, she made out to Dad that she was so caring, convincing him he mustn’t ask for help because Ellen had to study, but all she wanted was to keep them apart.

  It was raining hard, and Ellen knew Violet didn’t really need the shopping today, all she wanted was to make her even more miserable. Yet however wet and cold it was, it was a relief to get out of the house, for Josie had stepped up her nastiness, and at times
Ellen even thought it was for real.

  She took the footpath across the fields and as she approached the stile at the far end by the village she caught sight of Mavis Peters walking her dog. Even in the rain she looked elegant, wearing a cream raincoat with a matching hat and shiny brown Wellingtons.

  She greeted Ellen with a warm smile. ‘Hello, my dear. How nice to see you. I’ve missed you. But I suppose you get too much homework now to come visiting?’

  Ellen nodded, though the truth was that Violet wouldn’t let her go anywhere after school. But Mrs Peters seemed to sense something was wrong because she insisted that Ellen come back to her house for a cup of tea and a chat after she’d got her shopping. Just the thought of being in that warm, snug cottage for a while was worth risking Violet’s anger, so Ellen agreed readily.

  Mr Peters was out somewhere, and once Ellen was settled in a comfortable chair in front of the fire, Mrs Peters asked her gently how it was now that Josie and her stepmother were home. Ellen couldn’t help herself, she had to talk to someone about it, and so she told her how dreadful it was.

  One of the reasons Ellen had always felt at ease in the company of Mr and Mrs Peters was that they weren’t dyed-in-the-wool locals. They weren’t gossips, they were interesting, intelligent people who were well read and had travelled widely. During the evenings Ellen had spent sewing with Mrs Peters they had discussed things like politics, religion, art, books and music, and Ellen had always been surprised by the older woman’s modern outlook. But it was her ability to understand others that impressed Ellen most. She was never judgmental or critical, she just seemed to have a huge well of understanding about human nature.

  On top of that Ellen admired the way Mrs Peters always looked so neat and attractive; she had retained her interest in fashion, and was never without her face powder and lipstick. But it was her lively blue eyes and her wide smile which made her seem so much younger than her real age of fifty-eight. Her voice was lovely, real BBC English, which made Ellen wish she could speak like that too.

  Mrs Peters merely nodded in understanding as Ellen told her how things were at the farm. ‘Oh dear,’ she sighed eventually. ‘I must admit I was worried about you when I heard Violet was back. But when I saw her looking so smart in church, I thought perhaps it was all working out.’

  ‘She only came because someone told her the farm is worth a fortune,’ Ellen said with some bitterness. ‘Josie is as miserable as me. She liked it in Helston. As for Dad, he just keeps right out of the way.’

  They had a cup of tea, and Ellen tried a piece of homemade cherry cake. Then, for no reason she could explain, she suddenly blurted out that she was pregnant. Maybe it was the warm, safe feeling in the cottage that prompted it, or Mrs Peters’ previous kindness to her. Perhaps also she knew that it would soon be obvious to everyone, so it was better to tell Mrs Peters herself than let her hear it through village gossip.

  As the words tumbled out she was appalled at herself. She half expected Mrs Peters to push her out of the door with abuse ringing in her ears. But she wasn’t shocked or horrified, only deeply sympathetic, and the questions she asked were so caring and gentle that she made it easy for Ellen to sob out the entire story.

  When she had finished, Mavis Peters got up, perched on the arm of Ellen’s chair, put her arms around her and drew her head to her bosom. ‘You poor darling,’ she said soothingly. ‘I sensed something was badly wrong when you didn’t call round. You’ve been looking peaky in church the past few Sundays, but with Violet and Josie there I couldn’t really talk to you. But your secret’s safe with me, I promise you I won’t say a word to anyone, and I’ll help in any way I can.’

  Ellen was relieved not to hear disgust in the older woman’s voice. ‘What should I do?’ she asked. ‘I can’t keep it to myself forever, can I?’

  ‘No, of course you can’t, dear,’ Mrs Peters replied, her voice calm and soothing. ‘The logical thing of course is to tell your father straight away, but I guess you are afraid to do that?’

  Ellen nodded. ‘It will just make everything at home even worse. I don’t want a baby, Mrs Peters. Not unless I can be married and have a home of my own. I can’t bear the thought of all the people round here whispering about me. Or when he or she is old enough to go to school being called a little bastard.’

  Mrs Peters remembered how Ellen had confided in her about the way she had found out about her real mother and how she had died. It was clear Ellen still felt the shame and hurt about it, and she didn’t want the same thing to happen to her child.

  Mrs Peters knew from Frank, her husband, what a comfortless place Beacon Farm was. She also knew what a conniving shrew Violet was, and if Ellen had to bring her child up there, it might not be long before she headed for the cliff tops with her baby, just as her mother had done.

  ‘There are people who can help you,’ she said gently. ‘You don’t have to stay at the farm, there are special homes for girls in your predicament, with good people who can give you sound advice and help you decide whether you want to keep the baby or not.’

  She explained about how adoption worked, that there were childless couples aching for a baby of their own to love and it might be something Ellen should consider. ‘But that’s in the future,’ she added. ‘My concern is for you right now, you’re feeling desperate, and I honestly think the answer might be to leave home as quickly as possible, so you can feel at peace for the rest of your pregnancy.’

  ‘I’d leave tomorrow if I had somewhere to go,’ Ellen said, sniffing back her tears. ‘Anything would be better than having Violet and Josie being nasty and Dad avoiding me.’

  ‘There are mother-and-baby homes for girls like you, but they will only take you for the last six weeks of the pregnancy,’ Mrs Peters said. ‘You could book a place in one now, though, move closer to it and get work until the time comes.’

  ‘But what about school?’ Ellen asked.

  ‘That isn’t the be-all and end-all,’ Mrs Peters said, patting Ellen’s shoulder. ‘A bright girl like you could always do your “A” levels later at night school.’

  ‘But I wouldn’t be able to if I kept the baby,’ Ellen said, fresh tears flooding out again. ‘And how can I keep it? You need money for that.’

  Mrs Peters had two children herself, and neither of them had been angels, especially her younger daughter Isobel. But they’d come through their family problems by working things out together. Both girls were happily married now, and she had four grandchildren too, but that only served to remind her just how alone Ellen really was.

  Albert was an uncommunicative, stubborn and by all accounts difficult man, and his wife little better than a trollop. In Mavis’s opinion Ellen’s sensitivity and intelligence came from her real mother. She and Frank had grown fond of the girl and believed she would go far, so it was appalling that because of a brief moment of passion her prospects would be ruined. While she didn’t usually approve of an outsider standing between a child and its parents, she thought that in Ellen’s case someone had to.

  ‘Would you like me to find out about some homes for you?’ she asked Ellen. ‘I do know of one in Bristol. My daughter Isobel is involved on the committee for it. She might be able to find a nice family who need a mother’s help too, so you could stay with them until you are ready to go into the home.’

  Hope flooded into Ellen’s eyes. ‘Oh please, Mrs Peters, that would be wonderful.’ But almost as soon as she’d spoken, a cloud passed across her face. ‘How will I leave though? I couldn’t hurt Dad by just disappearing.’

  ‘No, you couldn’t, and you mustn’t even think like that,’ Mrs Peters said firmly. ‘But if the family my daughter finds for you offer you a job, that’s a very good reason for going, isn’t it?’

  ‘He’ll be upset that I want to leave school. So will my teachers.’

  ‘That’s true, but your father must know how unhappy you are with Violet. He’ll see that as the reason.’

  Ellen just sat there for a moment in silenc
e. As she thought about what Mrs Peters had suggested, she felt as if the huge weight on her shoulders was gradually being lightened. She leaned towards Mavis and hugged her. ‘You’ve been so kind to me, I feel so much better now. Thank you so much.’

  It wasn’t long after Ellen had gone that Frank Peters came in, and Mavis, feeling guilty about coming between father and daughter, told him everything.

  ‘You did right,’ he said. ‘Telling Albert would have been a calamity all round. By going away Ellen can make up her own mind about what’s best for her and her child.’

  ‘He’d be very angry if he ever found out,’ Mavis pointed out.

  Frank shrugged. ‘So what! If he hadn’t kept those girls so isolated this probably wouldn’t have happened. I can’t feel too much sympathy for him; by all accounts he pressured Ellen’s mother into marrying him. And some say he drove her to her death with his possessiveness. I wouldn’t want little Ellen to be trapped on that farm for the rest of her life, she’s worth more than that.’

  ‘I’ll have to ring Isobel about it tonight,’ Mavis said, heartened to have her husband’s backing. ‘It would be best if Ellen left here by Christmas or soon after, before anyone notices anything.’

  ‘I wonder if she’s confided in Josie?’ Frank said.

  ‘She didn’t say.’

  ‘I hope she hasn’t, adolescent girls can be so treacherous sometimes,’ Frank said thoughtfully. ‘I can’t help thinking Josie isn’t made of the same stuff as Ellen, however much alike they are to look at.’

  Chapter Eight

  Josie refused to go to the station in Truro to see Ellen off on the train to Bristol. She was too cross with her. She didn’t even say goodbye when Ellen got into Dad’s truck, but stayed up in her bedroom and thumped the pillows on her bed in anger.

  Today was 20 December. The Christmas decorations had been up for a week, and a tree cut down and potted up all ready to bring indoors, but just two days before Ellen had received a letter with a train ticket from the people in Bristol she was going to work for, saying they really could do with her help with their children immediately.