by Robbi Neal
‘Beth, did you get all that?’ asked Edie. ‘Never mind you can tell Beth anything she’s missed later.’
Knowing she’d impressed the girl with her knowledge of child raising and finally got the respect she deserved, she continued. ‘Now, these things are essential,’ and she counted them off on her fingers, ‘One — the baby must be swaddled tightly, which you haven’t done at all. You can’t just let her lie about, arms and legs akimbo. If you neglect to do this and let her lie loosely in her blankets as I see she presently is, she will undoubtedly grow up to be of an insecure and nervous disposition, not to mention her hips and knees can dislocate given she is unable at this young age to control her limbs.’ She looked at Edie sternly and waited for her to tighten the baby’s wrappings. But the girl just sat poised for the next instruction, and realising she’d be waiting till the cows came home she said firmly and pointedly, ‘Two — the baby must not be cuddled as she presently is, this is most serious, and if I were her permanent nanny I would insist you put her in her bassinet immediately. Where does she sleep at night, by the way?’
‘Down here, in the other room — in bed with me,’ said Edie, as though this was perfectly normal.
‘Oh heavens! No, no, no.’ No wonder these rich women all have nannies; they have no idea of how to bring up an industrious child. ‘If you cuddle her more than once a day you will bring up a spoilt, rebellious and demanding child who will be the bane of your lives! Now, three — she must not be fed more than one bottle every four hours. This is most essential otherwise she will be fat and greedy and no one will want to marry her.’ Beatrix realised too late the tactlessness of what she’d just said, given Edie’s own situation, and quickly went on.
‘Now, let me see her. Come on, give her over, I’m a nurse for heaven’s sake, I’m not going to hurt her,’ and she took the baby out of Edie’s reluctant arms and laid her on the change table. ‘Come on, come on, you both need to see this,’ and when the girls were standing nearby she looked up at Edie to make sure she had her full attention and felt chagrined that the girl was still looking at her as though she was likely to injure the infant. Beatrix opened the shawl smartly and removed the baby’s nappy. She didn’t look at the child’s face so she didn’t see her smile. She was concentrating on the other end, and hoisted the baby’s legs in the air, raising her bottom well off the table.
‘Here, here and here are where she’ll get a rash, you need to open the folds of skin and powder every day. I find Cashmere Bouquet the best. If the rash appears, use ointment straightaway, don’t delay or it will only get worse.’
Beatrix put the baby’s bottom back on the table and inspected her own fingers. Her forefinger had the shortest nail so she shoved it in the baby’s mouth. Gracie sucked furiously. Beatrix poked her finger around and explained, ‘I’m feeling for teeth, don’t look shocked. I myself have delivered a baby born with a full set.’
Beatrix wiped her finger on her skirt. ‘Beth, you can put her in a clean nappy and put her in her bassinet now,’ but Beth ignored her and Edie stepped forward, put a clean nappy on Gracie and then cuddled her close to her chest.
Beatrix sighed. This was going to take some work. She picked up her bag and said, ‘I’ll come thrice weekly, as I said, to check how you’re getting on and to give you further instructions as she grows. I’ll charge the two sovereigns a week I mentioned.’ She waited. She looked at Edie and waited again. She said, ‘In advance.’
An outrageous sum, she knew, but she sensed she might have the upper hand here given both girls’ complete lack of knowledge. Still, she gave Edie another moment to haggle. It took her a full three minutes to realise Edie wasn’t going to, so she filled the space with a cough and went on.
‘For that you can call me any time you have a problem. Just send Beth down. Oh, and one last word of advice,’ Beatrix leant over to Edie, ‘and I’d take this most seriously if I were you. Never bother your father with the infant. When he comes home make sure she is shut up tightly in the nursery. She will only remind him of your poor mother’s untimely death and no good will come of that.’
With that Beatrix left, her purse jangling with coins and her last words hanging in the air. She made a bet with herself that Miss Edith Cottingham would not last much more than a few months and the novelty of playing babies would wear off. That baby would soon be living with her and she’d be four sovereigns a week richer if she played it right. Normally she’d have given someone like Edie only two weeks but she’d seen in an instant how determined Miss Cottingham could be. She fossicked in her purse to feel the four half sovereigns she had been paid in advance. She might catch one of those new electric trams down Sturt Street; she hadn’t ridden on one of them yet. She’d only ever ridden a horse-drawn tram and, well, that was just an oversized carriage. An electric tram ride would be a little treat to celebrate the regular wage she’d be getting as of now. She couldn’t help it; she was a tad anxious as the conductor helped her onto tram number 12 at the Drummond Street stop. He was very nice, he reached down and put his hand under her elbow and lifted her up into the tram and she took a seat next to the window so she could see for herself just how fast the houses flashed by. She heard it was so fast they became a blur. Everything in the tram was new: the shiny red leather seat that she kept slipping off, the timber panelling polished so she could see her reflection, the clear glass without scratches. The conductor took her threepence, clipped a ticket and gave it to her and then pulled his rope. As he did, Young Colin Eales and his smart-alecking mates leapt into the carriage hooting and shouting. She knew these boys, Young Colin who lived next door and Jimmy and his string-bean brother. So much for her peaceful tram ride. The three boys were grubby and grimy from the mines, they looked like they hadn’t washed in years and their skin was stained with streaks and crusts of dirt. Their veins stuck out on their scrawny necks, dark brown instead of purple. Their eyes were grey smudges, but she had a pretty good idea they’d also been drinking. They normally went to the Bunch of Grapes, so something had brought them to a watering hole up this end of town instead. They sat right opposite her, whispering with one eye on her, hoping she couldn’t hear them, laughing inanely, slapping each other and cooking up some lark.
The conductor stood in front of them, waiting for them to stop larking around and hand over their fares and they made a big show of fossicking in their pockets looking for coins. The conductor looked over at Beatrix and rolled his eyes and she looked at the boys sternly. Finally Young Colin pulled two coins out of his pocket and held them high in the air for the world to see — well, Beatrix and the conductor.
‘Sorry, sir,’ said Young Colin Eales, as though he genuinely cared about the predicament he was causing the conductor, ‘it’s all I got.’
So the conductor took Young Colin’s sovereign and gave a handful of change back to him. Then without saying a word String Bean held out his coin, which was also a sovereign, and took every last coin in the conductor’s change bag. Jimmy also only had a sovereign, which he sheepishly held in the air. That was when Beatrix stepped in and said, ‘Had a good day down the mines, did we boys? Tributes paid off for once? Well, you know what, Jimmy, your friends have got plenty of change, they can pay for you. And they can pay for anyone else who hops on, seeing the poor conductor has been robbed of his change. If you don’t, I’ll be having a word to Constable George.’ All their skylarking flew out the window and they sullenly stared at the shiny new floorboards of the tram.
When the tram pulled into the next stop, two couples got on and Beatrix was true to her word. ‘It’s all right, loveys,’ she said loudly so everyone could hear, ‘Young Colin Eales has had such luck down the mines that he’s offered to pay everyone’s fares,’ and she glowered at Colin, who handed over his money because otherwise the old busybody would have a word in his mother’s ear, and his father’s ear too if he ever showed up, not to mention a word in the ear of her fella George, who could cause you trouble you didn’t want. Colin handed over his mo
ney and saw pots at the pub disappearing as each new person hopped on.
Thirteen
Pumpkin Mash
Monday, 9 July 1906, when everyone faces the dark after dinner.
When Edie woke the water was frozen in the taps and over the puddles, the trees bent under a thick layer of white frost. The weather promised snow later in the day, but in the end would only deliver nasty sleet and rain. Until the sleet and rain arrived the boys ran with sticks cracking the ice on the puddles with as much whooping and splashing as they could manage. But that was later in the day, and now it was still early. Beth had also only just woken and she got out of bed onto the cold floorboards that made her shiver and rugged herself up in a scarf, coat, boots and fingerless gloves. She rubbed her hands together and shoved them under her armpits as she walked across the grass covered in ice, brittle like glass, to the wood shed. The neatly stacked wood was damp with cold and she held it out from her chest as she took it inside. She opened the door of the cooker and took a stick to poke at the grey ash inside until she found a tiny ember. She blew on the speck of red that had survived the night and her breath brought it to life; she fed it with paper, and when the paper caught she put in the kindling, and when that had caught she added the wood, which sizzled and steamed as the moisture cooked out of it. Later, when it was warmer, she would need to let the fire burn down and empty the ash out onto the broad beans and start a new fire. Every few days the ash built up and stopped falling through into the grate pan. She left the door open so that the fire began to do its work, heating up the kitchen until it was cosy and warm and the water in the tap started to run.
By the time Nurse Drake arrived at ten-thirty the fire was singing, steam from the kettle and a pot of boiling pumpkin was filling the room, and there was hot tea in the pot. Beth topped it up as often as she could and when the tea leaves had no more flavour she made a fresh pot. Paul had escaped to his office to avoid having to talk to Beatrix, and Beth, Edie, Grace and Beatrix all felt safe and cosy inside as the weather beat against the windows.
Edie watched the pumpkin boil. It looked like lumpy orange soup. She had cut the pumpkin into pieces, making sure to remove all the hard skin.
‘Now you must boil the pumpkin for a good hour minimum to draw out the goodness,’ instructed Beatrix as she looked in the pot. She was holding Gracie, naked, plump and pink and now eight months old. The kitchen was so deliciously warm Gracie was wrapped only in a towel around her fat bottom. Edie looked at the boiling pumpkin as it turned to mush. Then she looked at Gracie as if to say This mush is meant for you.
‘Oh, I could just eat you up,’ Edie said, nuzzling Gracie’s fat thigh, and Gracie chuckled her awkward baby laugh and hoped the pumpkin wasn’t what they expected to feed her.
‘It needs longer,’ said Beatrix, moving Gracie to her other hip, and going to the enamel tub sitting on one half of the kitchen table. Edie watched as Nurse Drake tested the water in the tub with her elbow, nodded to herself and lowered the baby into it, and she laughed ungraciously when Gracie began splashing the water as soon as she could reach it, splashing it straight into Nurse Drake’s face and up her nose and all over her clothes.
‘I warned you,’ laughed Edie, smiling at Beth. Edie and Beth loved it when they were proved right about anything to do with Gracie.
‘Keep checking that pumpkin,’ snapped Nurse Drake, wiping the water from her face, ‘it needs to be liquid.’
Edie raised her eyebrows at Beth, who was at the sink washing glass jars ready for the pumpkin, and the girls shared a secret smile as Beatrix tried to brush soapy water from her cardigan. Beatrix took Gracie out of the bath and dried her off on the tabletop.
‘I’m sure you are feeding this child more than I have instructed,’ she said, and held Gracie’s feet in the air, moving them in circles, making her thighs wobble like jelly. Gracie chuckled more as Beatrix inspected Gracie. The child had put on weight, so that was something to be grateful for, though she was still small for her age and had an occasional cough.
‘So what are you feeding this fat child, girls?’ she asked.
‘Oh,’ said Edie, ‘we try to follow your instructions to the letter, don’t we, Beth?’
‘Of course,’ lied Beth.
Beatrix wrapped Gracie tightly in the towel, picked her up and came over to peer into the pot again. ‘See, this is the consistency you need in order to bring the goodness out of the vegetable and to make it possible for her body to absorb it. Boil it for two hours if you must — the longer you boil it the more goodness you draw out of it.’
Edie looked at the orange slop in the saucepan and thought she wouldn’t feed it to a dog.
‘That’s good food in there, Miss Cottingham, a darn sight better than any of us got as babies in our day,’ said the nurse sharply. ‘You need to put the pumpkin in a jar until you’re ready to use it. Do it while it’s hot so it seals hygienically.’
Edie poured the pumpkin into the jars and Beth quickly screwed the lids on. Then Beatrix dressed Gracie in her baby dress and wrapped her tightly in two blankets, trapping Gracie in a straitjacket and wiping the smile from the baby’s face. ‘Now I’m putting her in her room, there’s a fire ready, isn’t there, Beth?’
Edie looked at Beth and she nodded.
‘Well,’ said Beatrix, ‘remember: no picking her up for four hours,’ and she looked at Edie, and Edie knew Nurse Drake considered her the most likely culprit to break her rules.
As soon as the last plume of Nurse Drake’s overly decorated and ridiculously large hat had disappeared up the street Edie ran to the nursery and clutched Gracie to her breast. Gracie had short soft curls like lamb’s wool all over her head and her eyes had turned from baby grey to sky blue. Edie followed none of the nurse’s rules. If Gracie was hungry she was fed, regardless of the time of day or when she had had her last feed. If Gracie cried, Edie carried her around, resting Gracie’s colicky tummy over her arm. Edie sang to Gracie so she would know she was loved more than any other baby in the world and she cooed for her smiles. In the autumn months she had let Gracie’s arms and legs hang free so she could feel the warmth of the sun as it came through the dining room windows on her soft duck-down skin. Now it was cold Edie sat on a rug by the cooker with Gracie in her arms and they played with the offcuts of wood that Paul had cut small enough for Gracie’s fingers and then sanded until they were smooth and shone so Gracie could see her reflection.
Edie’s days revolved around Gracie’s needs and her nights around Gracie’s warm and powdery smell. Gracie had filled up Edie’s life. It had been this way for her since the day at the lake when she had stood, her feet in the mud, ready to drop Gracie into the water below. Gracie had been barely balanced in her hands, all it would have needed was a twist of her arm, a movement from Gracie, or for Edie just to take one hand away and Gracie would have plummeted down. But Gracie had smiled at her and Edie remembered what her dying mother had asked of her. So now Edie knew deep in her soul that her task in life wasn’t to be a nurse or to be a wife: it was to be Gracie’s mother. The underground house had helped them all through the mean summer.
‘Your underground house saved Gracie’s life,’ Edie said to her father on many occasions. And Paul smiled; they both knew it was true. But the summer had passed, the autumn had passed, and Gracie no longer slept downstairs in the underground house. She slept in Edie’s bed wrapped up in Edie’s arms. Except for when Nurse Drake was due. When Edie heard her at the door she would call for Beth to let the nurse in while she ran to the nursery, put Gracie in her cot and whispered, ‘Shhhh, not a word, you’ve been here the whole night, haven’t you?’
And Gracie would smile to show she understood their secret.
Paul would arrive home from work at precisely six. He’d done this ever since Gracie was six weeks old, so Edie was always ready and waiting for him. When it was warm she would wait on the verandah, now it was cold she would wait at the study window with Gracie in her arms so they could see him as soon as
he walked through the gate.
‘I just can’t bear to work any later these days,’ he told Edie, and she knew that it was because he wanted to get home to Gracie.
This evening he put his umbrella in the stand, took off his coat and hung it on the hall stand, and then took off his boxer, which he hung over his coat, and finally his scarf and gloves. As she watched him, Edie thought he seemed so much older than he was before her mother died. Something about him was frailer, his hair and eyes seemed greyer. And she thought how just eight months ago she had been a girl concerned with no more than making a man fall in love with her. Now she was a woman, aware of life and death and how they walked hand in hand. Edie put Gracie into Paul’s arms and Gracie smiled up at him. Then they went to the dining room and sat down to the dinner of lamb stew with dumplings that Beth had prepared and Edie tried to feed Gracie the pureed pumpkin and they all laughed over the amount of pureed pumpkin that was on the outside of Gracie rather than the inside and instead they fed her bits of stew from their own plates.
After dinner Beth took the dishes to wash in the kitchen, then she soaked the oats, squeezed the juice and simmered the fruit in syrup for breakfast the next day. She ironed Paul’s shirt ready for the morning and finally collapsed exhausted into her bed. As she did every night.
As he always did, after dinner Paul lifted Gracie out of her high chair and Gracie waved goodbye to the teddy bears painted on the tray. Paul carried her to the sitting room, where he flopped into his leather chair that caressed every groan and creak in his body and read, resting a monstrous law book on one arm of the chair, while cuddling Gracie with his other arm. Gracie was contented. She lay back in her father’s arm and occasionally kicked her chubby legs. Sometimes she leant over to suck the corner of his book.
After dinner Edie sat beside them knitting a jumper for Gracie, who grew quicker than Edie could knit, until Paul fell asleep in the chair with Gracie still in his arms. When Edie was sure Paul and Gracie were both fast asleep, she gently picked Gracie up out of Paul’s arms.