by Mark Seaman
“You leave Chris out of this; he doesn’t need your help in forming an opinion about me.”
“Well I must admit he doesn’t strike me as a thimple man.”
Mum and I looked at each other. “And he certainly doesn’t need to hear any of your awful jokes either, we like Chris remember.”
Dad smiled. “I know and I like him too. Chris gets a thumbs up from me as well.”
Mum and I winced.
“Oh sorry, did I say something?” He was clearly enjoying his own jokes more than the two of us but recognised he had gone far enough. “Okay, I’ll stop. Anyway, talking about Chris, what does he have to say about this meeting? We haven’t seen him recently, is everything alright between the two of you?”
I took a moment to think and realised Dad was right, I hadn’t seen much of Chris lately. I’d been too preoccupied with my own affairs and in arranging this meeting with Ruth.
“We’re fine, I think. You’re right though, we haven’t spoken much over the past few days. I guess I’ve been too busy sorting all of this.”
Mum smiled. “Chris is a good man, Mary, be careful you don’t lose him. He may be a big part of your future and you don’t want to threaten that because of your past. Jenny likes him as well remember, as do your dad and I, you know that.”
She was right of course and I called Chris later that day to talk things through. We agreed to meet together for a drink in our local pub.
I sat staring into my glass of white wine the following evening in the Red Lion feeling a little nervous as I waited for Chris to arrive. We had arranged to meet there after he finished work. Because we had talked about Ruth on a number of occasions in the past I knew he wouldn’t oppose my decision to finally meet with her although I was still a little anxious in case he’d had any second thoughts as to how it might affect our own relationship. As I sat there alone with my thoughts I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Hello nice lady, long time no see.” I looked up and smiled. “Hello you, I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch lately but…” He interrupted me. “I know you’ve been busy with all the other men in your life.” We smiled at each other. “Can I get you another drink?”
“No I’m fine thanks, let me get you one.”
“No you’re alright; I’ll be back in a minute.” I watched him walk to the bar and thought how lucky I was to have finally found a man I felt I could trust, not only for myself but also with Jenny.
“So what have you been up to these past couple of weeks,” he said pulling out a chair from the table and spilling some of his beer as he did so. “I’ve hardly heard from you, is it Ruth, has she been in touch again?” He licked the spilt beer from his fingers as he sat down?
“Yes and yes. And I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit distant of late, it’s just I haven’t really known what to say, but I should have called.” I took his hand and squeezed it. “Forgive me?”
“Nothing to forgive,” he replied taking a sip from his glass and leaving a frothy moustache on his top lip which made me laugh.
“That’s it add insult to injury and laugh at me as well,” he said wiping the froth from his mouth onto his sleeve. “You really know how to hurt a man.”
We smiled at each other before leaning forward to kiss.
“It’s good to see you, Mary, I’ve missed you.”
“Me too, and like I say, I’m sorry.” Chris leant forward and kissed me again. “And like I said there’s nothing to forgive. So how’s Jenny?” I loved the fact that Jenny was important to him and realised yet again by his asking that one simple question why he had become so special to the both of us.
“She’s fine and says thanks again for helping out with that math’s project she had to do. She got highly commended for her work.”
He smiled, lifting his glass to his lips. “Nice to know I’m popular with both the ladies in my life.”
I laughed and took a drink. “I am really sorry for not being in contact though, and you’re right it was because of Ruth.” I placed my glass on the table and took a deep breath. “I’ve finally made the decision to meet up with her; in fact we’re already in the process of agreeing a date.” I sat waiting nervously for his reply, but I needn’t have worried.
“That’s great; I’m really pleased for you, the both of you. Well, all three of you if you count Jenny as well. I presume she’s happy about your decision?”
“Yes, although I think she’s hoping there will be some dark secret as to why she let me go at such an early age, you know like I was brought into the country by child smugglers or something like that. I told her she’s been watching too many police dramas and there’s probably a really simple explanation, although I can’t begin to think what that might be if I’m honest.”
Chris smiled and rubbed my arm. “Well you’ll never know the truth if you don’t ask and now you’ve got the chance to do just that.” He took a drink and looked at me lovingly. “And whatever she says it won’t change the way I feel about you, or Jenny. You’re a very special, lady Mary, and don’t let Ruth or anyone else tell you differently”
“Thank you, you don’t know how much that means to me or how much I needed to hear you say that. I don’t want anything to affect our relationship, Chris, although sometimes I worry that…” My voice trailed away and I felt tears sting the back of my eyes.
“You daft brush, I’ve just told you there’s nothing she can say that will change the way I feel about you? What were you, a couple of months old when she let you go, you can hardly be blamed for that now can you?” He sat back in his chair and looked at me quizzically. “Mind you there could be one thing she might be ashamed to tell you that could affect our relationship.”
I panicked as a thousand irrational thoughts raced through my head. “What do you mean?”
“Well if you find out that your father was an Arsenal supporter that would of course mean that we would have to stop seeing each other. I couldn’t be seen going out with the daughter of a Gunner.”
“You idiot, I thought you were serious for a minute.”
“I am.” I watched as he raised the glass to his lips again, laughing as he took a sip of his beer. “I could never face my mates again.”
I knew he was joking but still felt the need for his support. “Seriously Chris, you don’t mind me meeting her do you, whatever the outcome?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. I’m glad you’ve got this opportunity to find out for yourself what really happened. I know Jenny started the ball rolling but I’m sure at some point you would have wanted to know about your real mum and how you came to be in this world. And if you’d left it for another few years, who knows, it might have been too late. So yes, go for it girl, fix a date to see her and ask your questions. And remember, I’ll stand beside you whatever happens.”
It was my turn to lean forward and make the move to kiss him. “Thank you.” Although we sat enjoying each others company in silence for the next few minutes I had never felt as close to Chris as I did just then; the unspoken dialogue emanating between us saying more than a thousand words could ever have done.
Eventually he broke the silence. “Well I don’t know about you but I think this calls for a celebration.” He nodded towards my glass. “Same again?”
“Please, that would be nice.”
“And if we’re going to celebrate let’s really push the boat out and make it a large glass.” He laughed as he spoke. “In fact let’s go the whole hog and share a packet of crisps as well.” I smiled as he walked back to the bar saying a silent thank you to myself for how well our conversation had gone. As he said I needn’t have worried but his reassurance still meant a lot to me.
The two of us spent the rest of the evening talking about everything but Ruth and I’m sure we both felt the better for it, I know I did. I resolved yet again not to let Chris slip from my life nor from Jen
ny’s as the two of us continued to grow closer and more dependent on him both physically and emotionally. Mum had been right when she said Chris was mine and Jenny’s future, and I knew I couldn’t wreck the prospect of that happiness by letting the past dominate me any longer no matter how nervous I was about what was to come in the weeks ahead. I needed to move forward for everyone’s sake and meeting with Ruth would allow me to begin that process whatever the eventual outcome might be.
Twenty-Two
I used the money Mr Taylor had given me to buy food and to pay for a small room locally, but I knew it wouldn’t last for long and that I would have to find a job quickly to support myself. However, with no references and the threat of action against me by the Taylor’s should I seek to gain work as a nanny I knew my options were limited. After a couple of days and with my money running out fast I managed to find work in a back street pub clearing tables and washing the dirty glasses along with pretty much everything else in those dingy surroundings. The landlord wasn’t the most pleasant of people either, but at least he didn’t ask about my past or as to the reasons for my wanting the job. I think he was just happy to have a young girl in the pub for all of his male regulars to eye up as I hardly ever saw another woman in the bar, and certainly not the sort who were there to enjoy a simple night out with their boyfriend or husband. Most of the women who did occasionally come into the bar appeared to be looking for business of a different sort rather than for a drink. That said, there was often a glass or two shared between her and her would be suitor before they left for another form of entertainment. I got my bottom slapped a few times but I knew it was pointless saying anything to the landlord as I could readily imagine the reply I would have received, especially as he always made great play out of forcing himself against me whenever we had to pass each other behind the bar. I quickly came to hate working there but knew without the money it provided I simply could not survive. I also had this new life growing inside me which only compounded my concerns about what the future might hold for the both of us.
I managed to hide my growing tummy for a few weeks under my apron and by wearing skirts or dresses that were too big for me, but one day the landlord called me into his office. His speech as with his demeanour was basic and to the point. “Are you up the duff, girl?” I looked at him for a moment not quite knowing how to reply. “Cause if you are you can’t stay here right, it ain’t good for business. Men want to look at a girl with a bit of a shape to them, not some bleedin’ beached whale.” I felt a mix of emotions threatening to overtake me as I stood before him. Here was another man telling me what I could and couldn’t do just as Mr Taylor and the German’s had done before him.
“And don’t start all that blubbing either, that won’t wash with me. If you’ve got yourself pregnant then that’s your own stupid fault not mine.” He stared directly at me. “Is it one of the lads from the gas works down the road? I’ve seen you chatting to them.”
“Only to tell them to keep their hands off me,” I retorted, feeling anger as well as fear building up inside me.
“A little slap on the bum don’t do no harm; you’re too precious you are that’s your trouble.” He shook his head and coughed. It was a deep catarrhal cough from years of heavy smoking and his chest wheezed as he exhaled. “So what, you think you’re above some bloke giving your arse a bit of a squeeze but then you’re happy to let him get into your drawers is that it?”
Anger was by now far outweighing any fear I had about losing my job; sadly, it was also affecting my rationale and the need for an income along with any thoughts of self preservation I might have harboured.
“I wouldn’t let any of your customers come near me for any reason, and certainly not willingly. They’re just a bunch of dirty old men with wandering hands and filthy minds. I only work here because I need the money, so don’t make the mistake of thinking I enjoy it because I don’t.”
He coughed again, his face turning red as much from his rising temper as from the need to clear his throat of mucus. “Then you won’t mind me telling you to piss off then, will you, if you hate it that much? I only took you on to help you out and ‘cause I felt sorry for you. I wish I hadn’t bothered now.” He shook his head again. “You’re like the rest of the tarts that come in here, more trouble than you’re worth.”
“Suits me, I’ll be happy to go and as for…” I bit my lip but it was too late, I had called his bluff and agreed to leave. Fear overtook me again, but the moment for reason had passed and there was no hope now of my making amends or appealing to his better nature following our angry exchange.
“Well go on then bugger off to your boyfriend or whoever it is that’s had the unfortunate pleasure of shagging you. I’m sure they’ll be only too happy to look after you and your brat when it arrives.” He put his hand in his pocket and withdrawing a handful of money threw two pounds across the table towards me.
“That should cover the work you’ve done over the past few days.” He grinned intentionally as he spoke. “If not you can sue me for the rest.”
I was tempted to throw the money back into his face but knew that would achieve only a fleeting sensation of self gratification and one that would immediately be replaced by the knowledge I had, through this momentary act of obstinate pride, done something both stupid and very costly. I leant forward and picked up the crumpled and grubby notes. It seemed appropriate that even the money in his pocket should be as dirty and grimy as everything else in this run down back street pub.
“Thank you.” I put the money in my skirt pocket and without looking at him turned and left closing the door gently behind me. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being able to shout at me again should I have chosen to slam it out of warranted frustration with both him and his attitude towards me.
I spent the next two days in my room exploring my rapidly decreasing options as to what I should do next. The pub landlord may have crawled out from under a rock somewhere but he had been right in saying that my impending motherhood was now obvious to all. The more I thought about this the more I realised I needed professional help and guidance as to how and where my baby would be born. I also needed advice about how to care for it once it arrived?
I decided to go to the hospital and ask to speak to a midwife. The lady at the reception was very polite but it was obvious what she was thinking as she entered my details on the form in front of her.
“So is that Miss or Mrs Cahn?”
My heart sank. “Miss,” I replied, my voice hardly getting above a whisper.
“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you dear, is it Miss or Mrs Cahn?”
“Miss.” I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I glanced behind me at the other women waiting their turn to be questioned or seen by one of the nursing staff, all of whom appeared endlessly busy as they hurried in and out of the waiting area with their clip boards, checking lists or asking one of the ladies to follow them. I sensed their eyes focus on me and could hear the gentle murmur of derision as they passed their hastily made decisions about me to one another.
I saw one woman lean towards her friend whilst pointing her finger at me. “There’s another one. Honestly some of these young girls have no shame or conscience.”
I felt like turning and shouting the truth at her but realised it would do no good, or that my innocence would be believed.
The receptionist, also aware of the change of mood in the room, spoke again, this time more sympathetically.
“It’s alright dear, just a few more questions and we’ll get someone to talk to you.”
I smiled praying her change in tone was one of genuine concern and not simply to move me along in the lengthy queue that was now forming behind me.
“Address?”
I told her where I was living, adding this was not my permanent home as I might be moving on soon. I didn’t want to say I had no money as I knew this wouldn’t help my cause.
“Father’s name?”
My heart sank once more as I struggled to reply.
“What is the father’s name, dear?” she repeated, smiling at me as she scratched the side of her head with the end of the pen she was holding?
Panicking I said the first thing that came into my head. “I don’t know.”
Her jaw dropped visibly and I heard another rumble of disapproval verbalise itself from the other women in the room.
“I’m sorry, dear, did you say you don’t know? Surely you must know who the father is?”
“Perhaps there’s more than one or she’s not fussy,” came from one of the now fully attentive audience sitting behind me.
“I mean, I can’t tell you his name.” I looked at her in the vain hope she would understand and end this line of questioning to save both of our growing embarrassment.
The receptionist adjusted her glasses and staring over the top of them looked directly at me. Any sense of empathy displayed earlier had disappeared completely with her voice no longer soft and compassionate but now decidedly imposing and authoritative.
“So let me be clear, Miss Cahn. You are not married, you have no permanent address, and you cannot give me the name of the man who is to be the father of your child, is that all correct?”
I nodded sheepishly.
“There is one other question I need you to answer, and I apologise because I should have asked you this earlier, but how old are you?”
I stared at the floor not daring to look directly at her and wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole as I replied. “Nearly eighteen.” Another audible wave of disapproval reverberated behind me.
“I see. So you are actually seventeen, is that what you’re saying?” I nodded meekly still unable to face her. The receptionist picked up a small piece of pink paper from her desk and handed it to me. I raised my head and with my hand shaking took it from her. I felt lost in a sea of complete and utter humiliation, along with an overwhelming desire to be anywhere but standing in her reception area. Clearly aware of both my obvious shame and the critical audience eavesdropping intently on our conversation behind me, all avidly awaiting our next exchange she smiled, her voice softening once more. “Miss Cahn, sadly you are not the first young girl to find herself in this position and I doubt you will be the last. What I am giving you here is the address of a special children’s home here in the London area which is run by nuns. They give help and advice to lots of young under age girls like you and will be able to offer appropriate care for both you and your baby until you are in a position to provide for yourself again. It is called the Holy Order of the Sisters of Mercy and there is a phone number for them at the bottom of the page. I suggest you call and make an appointment for yourself as soon as possible.”