by Millie Gray
Once the door had closed on the last employee and he and Freda were alone in the shop, Ewan said, ‘Now, don’t try and deny that the child you are carrying is mine.’
‘You are right about that,’ Freda hissed, as she flung a wet towel in his face. ‘And before you go on about how let down you feel that I didn’t tell you, please consider how let down I feel – let down by you!’
‘In what way?’
‘You told me that I had nothing to worry about! You said that you had been careful, very careful, so how come I’m pregnant?’
‘Are you now trying to say that I was the only one who got carried away? Let me remind you . . .’
Freda’s face was now crimson and she cringed. No way did she wish to be reminded of the way she had so recklessly behaved. Tears brimmed in her eyes. All she had wished for was ten days, ten too-short days in a whole lifetime – was that too much to ask for? All she wanted was to love him and be loved by him, and now . . .
Seeing her distress, Ewan stepped forward and took her into his arms. ‘Shhh, please don’t cry. We have to think of what to do that would be best for all concerned.’
‘Ewan,’ Freda wailed, ‘if you try to tell the world that this baby is yours then I will have to do the unforgivable. I’m not joking.’
He stepped back from her. ‘Are you saying that you would abort our baby? Good grief, am I hearing right?’
‘I would not wish to. In fact I desire with all my heart to keep this baby. Keep it so that I will always have some part of you in my life.’ Freda tried to stay calm, but she was overwhelmed by an emotional outburst. ‘Ewan, please don’t make me think about an abortion. It is against my nature to do that. Can’t you see? If I could not bring myself to abort my twins, who were conceived in such savage wickedness, do you think I would be able to live with myself if I had to abort our little one, who was conceived in such wonderful, genuine love?’
Holding her close to him again, Ewan murmured, ‘Freda, I am assuming that you didn’t tell Robin that I am the father of your baby?’
‘No. I told him I got carried away in an on-board romance with Tommy Winters, and that we had parted and would not be meeting again.’
He sighed. ‘All I am asking is that you tell Robin the truth, and ask him to let us marry.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ewan!’ Freda screamed, jumping back from him. ‘That would mean my innocent children would grow up knowing that their true father was a monster! No! You already know, because I have repeatedly told you, that is a price too high and I will not have my children pay it. Now, you either agree to let things be and allow Robin to father the child, or I will abort it.’
Before shaking his head in utter defeat, Ewan opened his hands and gestured to Freda his resignation. All the while, his eyes implored her not to make him a stranger who his child would only see occasionally. He, like her, wished to be part of the child’s life because he longed to have her – or at least part of her – with him always.
Guiltily aware of Ewan’s distress and quandary, Freda wondered what she could do to lessen the impact of the nightmare he now found himself in – a nightmare from which he could not awaken. Crossing back to him, she placed her hands gently on his shoulders. ‘Ewan, I am truly sorry that by loving you . . . loving you so much that I ignored the danger and warning signs, I am . . . I must . . . please, Ewan, do not ask me to pay the very high price of sacrificing Jackie and Harry’s happiness for our brief, intimate affair.’
He nodded to acknowledge that, as painful as it was, he would accede to her wishes. She wept, not only in relief but also for what might have been. Both of them were now awash with the memories of the utter joy of their romantic liaison.
‘I don’t suppose that before we part we could . . . please, Freda, just once more?’
She was scared that if she did concede once more, it might be enough to send her resolve tumbling. The clock ticked by some agonising minutes as she deliberated. She shuddered. Why was it that she was torn between wishing she had never met Ewan, and yearning for more of him? She was also afraid of the deep sense of bleak loss that she knew she would feel when she finally removed him from her life. Then, to both of their surprise, she went over and switched off the front shop lights. Then, seeking his hand, she guided him into the back salon. As the door closed behind them, they were back on board the Black Prince, for the very last time.
*
Five months later, Freda was at her wits’ end trying to control Autumn. The final straw came when one of Autumn’s friends, Jeanie, came into the salon on Elm Row and asked if they could fit her in for a hairdo and makeover, as she hadn’t the time to get to Frederick Street. Freda was tempted to say ‘Definitely not!’, but she knew that in doing so she would put further strain on her and Autumn’s relationship.
Once the young lady had had all the most expensive and self-indulgent treats, she put on her coat and walked towards the door.
‘Jeanie?’ Freda called out to her.
‘Oh, yes,’ Jeanie replied, ‘I am very pleased with the results of your staff.’ She gave a little twirl so all could see just how good she looked.
‘I know you are, but you still have to pay your bill.’ Freda rang up the receipt and held it out to Jeanie.
‘No, no,’ replied Jeanie, ‘I am one of Autumn’s favourites. We do not pay for any hairdos, makeovers, manicures or massages. All that we have to do in payment is tell everyone that our wonderful appearance is down to us frequenting A Cut Above on Frederick Street.’
‘That right? Well, let me tell you that my husband and I are running a business, not a charity! Here, take this bill and pay it, and from now on, even at the Frederick Street salon, you will be paying the going rate.’
Jeanie had the shop front door open now, but she did half turn to shout back to Freda, ‘There is no way any of us could afford to have ourselves titivated up at A Cut Above prices! Besides, you can’t ask me to pay.’
‘I can’t?’
‘No. Autumn told me you are not a co-owner there so you have no authority. And what’s more, she is going to make sure you jump before she gets her brother to ask you to leave.’
Before dumbfounded Freda could reply that Autumn was lying, the bell tinkled as the door slammed shut.
*
When Robin returned from London he was always in a jovial mood. However, when Freda informed him of Autumn’s arrangement for her friends at Frederick Street, he was shocked. After mulling the problem over, he did as he always did and asked Freda what should be done.
‘I have thought about it,’ Freda said. ‘I admit she is a very good receptionist, but we cannot afford to allow her to treat eight friends every week. Having said that, in no way do I think we should upset your mother by dismissing her, so we have to box clever.’
Robin smiled. ‘And, dear Freda, how do you propose we do that?’
Freda hesitated, to give the impression that she was just thinking the matter through. In reality, she had already come up with the solution. ‘Here, what do you think of this? You and I have trained up some exceptional hairdressers, and recently we have had some poached by our competitors. So, how about we select two of our up-and-coming stars, who are not only excelling in styling but also know how to count beans, and promote them to managers – one in Elm Row and one in Frederick Street.’
‘But you and I do the managing.’
‘Yes, and we are run ragged! And you – don’t deny it – are already looking about for shops three and four.’ She now looked him straight in the eye. ‘You are also spending every second week in London now, so it makes sense to employ managers.’
He chortled, as he knew that what Freda had said made sense. However, what was she going to get out of the new arrangements? Gingerly, he asked, ‘Does this mean that you will be able to take a back seat?’
Again Freda appeared to ponder, before answering, ‘Robin, remember when I had the twins and I was so busy helping you with the new shop that I didn’t get to spen
d precious time with them?’ She ran her hands lovingly over her stomach. ‘See, with this wee one, my last baby, I don’t wish to repeat the mistakes I made with the twins. This time around I would like the time to enjoy the baby and appreciate every minute – time to find satisfaction in just being a mother.’ Before Robin could respond, she quickly added, ‘And before it is too late, I would like to have time – Mummy time – with Harry and Jackie.’
Her eyes were now pleading with Robin. He nodded, because he knew what she was saying. Yes, they had been so busy building up the business that they had lost track of what was really important in life – time with the children and with each other.
‘So you will be leaving the business completely?’ Robin asked.
‘No, just drastically cutting back on the time I spend there. Don’t worry, it will only be until the children have grown up and are making their own way in life.’
Twelve
June 1974
The sweltering sun was beating straight on to Freda’s face, adding to her discomfort. All she wished to do was waddle her way out of the car park and into the Eastern General Hospital’s maternity unit. Just then another agonising pain gripped her and she grabbed hold of Hannah’s arm.
‘Freda, please don’t dig your nails into my arm like that!’ Hannah gasped. ‘My blouse is so thin that you are about to draw blood.’
‘Look, I am in labour, not ecstasy! Surely you know how that feels.’
Hannah bit on her lip. ‘No, I don’t. And if anyone should know that I never will, it is you.’
Realising she had been crass and insensitive, Freda inhaled deeply. ‘Sorry, Hannah. I know I should be screaming at Robin but he’s on the Edinburgh-bound train and I’ll bet it doesn’t get in until this is all over!’
‘It’s not his fault that he’s not here, Freda. When he asked you yesterday if you thought that he should give London a miss this weekend you said that you thought you would be holding on for at least another two weeks.’
‘Aye, I did think that, but how was I to know’ – Freda stopped to audibly pant and moan – ‘that the baby . . . had . . . other . . . ideas.’ Breathing heavily, she slumped against the wall for support. Not wishing to move from the wall, she said, ‘Hannah, how selfish of me! I should have asked’ – her voice was now at least three octaves louder and coming out in staccato – ‘how is your new roooooooomance going?’
‘Like all the others he has moved on. Do you know, I think I would be judged as less of a freak by men if I had two heads!’
‘Talking of heads, Hannah, I think the baby’s head is near . . . near . . . nearly out!’
In desperation, Hannah looked down the long corridor and, to her relief, spotted a porter pushing a wheelchair with no one in it. ‘Mister, mister, mister!’ she cried, waving her hands and sprinting towards him, ‘Please, my friend is about to give birth – can you help us?’
‘Nae problem, lassie,’ the jovial man replied. ‘I wish I had a fiver for every baby that wanted to be born out here in the corridor.’
Leaving those words ringing in Hannah’s ears, the porter quickly pushed the chair towards Freda. Soon, they were speeding towards the delivery room. Hannah held Freda’s hand as the nursing sister examined Freda out in the corridor before saying, very quietly and calmly, ‘Busy day today, so there is no room for you in the delivery room at the top of the corridor. I will just take you into this linen cupboard—’
‘Take her into the linen cupboard?’ Hannah interrupted. ‘Look, whoever you are, my friend is of the opinion—’
The nurse pushed Freda into the cupboard and banged the door shut in Hannah’s face, so the rest of her sentence was said to the door.
Ten minutes later, the sister emerged, pushing the wheelchair in which Freda was sitting. Hannah was gobsmacked, because Freda was openly crying as she looked down at the little bundle in her arms. The poor wee mite had come so quickly that the sister had just grabbed what was available to wrap her in, so she was swaddled in a National Health Service hand towel.
‘Hannah, look at her. Isn’t she just beautiful? Look at that cute little dimple in the middle of her chin!’ Freda sobbed. ‘Luckily the sister must have known that my baby was about to pop out when she pushed me into the cupboard.’ The sister confirmed Freda’s statement with a nod, and Freda continued, ‘Know something, Hannah, that’s what I’m going to call her – Poppy!’
Now it was Hannah’s turn to weep. Yes, she did think that the tiny baby girl was beautiful, and she would have liked to take her into her arms. However, that possibility was put on hold when the sister said, addressing Freda’s bundle, ‘Right, my little friend, it’s time to get you up to the labour suite for a wee wash!’
*
When Robin arrived at Freda’s bedside two hours later, she was fast asleep. In order not to disturb her, he asked a nurse where his daughter was. ‘In the nursery,’ she replied, going to the door of the four-bed ward and pointing out the way.
Before going into the nursery, Robin looked through the room’s glass window, noting that there were two other fathers and a couple of doting grannies already in the room admiring the rows of babies. He then decided to hang back, not because he thought that there were too many people there already, but because he did not wish to encounter one of the fathers.
By the time Robin got back to Freda’s bedside, she was awake and sitting up, supported by pillows.
‘You must have had a very easy time of it this time,’ Robin teased, lifting her hand and kissing it.
‘Easy time? Oh, no! If it had not been for a kind-hearted porter who got me into a wheelchair and a quick-thinking sister who bundled me into a linen cupboard, our baby daughter would have bounced off the floor and probably killed herself. But enough of that . . . what do you think of her?’
‘She is beautiful, just like her mum. Know something, her dad would not be able to deny her.’
Freda chuckled. ‘Robin, don’t be daft. Why would you wish to deny Poppy?’
‘I will never deny her – I was thinking of her actual father.’
‘But you have never met Tommy Winters, so how would you know what he looks like?’
‘That’s true, but I do know Ewan. And Freda, I also know you – I know you inside out.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Just that when you told me that cock-and-bull story about how you threw all your propriety out of the cabin window and had a holiday romance with a complete stranger, I knew you were lying.’ Freda squirmed, but Robin carried on. ‘You see, I know you, and I realised that you must know the father of your baby very well, because you would not have done what you did unless you loved him, and loved him very much. I just couldn’t figure out who it was, until I stood looking in at the nursery window and there, gazing lovingly down at Poppy, was Ewan.’
‘What?’ screeched Freda, sitting bolt upright and grabbing for Robin’s hand. ‘He promised me, he did!’
‘Calm yourself Freda, people are looking at us. Now, all I wish to know is . . .’ He hesitated and gulped, ‘Are you and Ewan thinking of setting up home together, or will it be like Billy and I?’
‘Neither. He and I parted on the journey home and he has agreed not to force any change in our relationship. Why he came today, I do not know. Nor do I know who alerted him.’ She looked down at the counterpane bedspread as she was about to lie to Robin and she did not want him to see it in her eyes. ‘Robin, I promise that since the cruise I have not been alone with him.’
‘Oh Freda, I am so relieved that I won’t be losing you or my children. Our twins mean so much to me. I am their father. I walked the floor with them when they were teething. I read a bedtime story to them every night I am at home. I am striving to build up our business so that they will never want for anything. And all that is not only for them, but for you too. Honestly, I am afraid to think of what life would be like for me without my family.’
‘You never will be without us.’ Freda looked him in the eyes aga
in. ‘The children are my first priority and therefore must be protected. For them, I will sacrifice anything – and for you too, Robin. Always you have been my best friend, the one person I could depend on when I was at my lowest ebb. Never will I leave you. Until death do us part. I promised you that and I meant it.’
Before Robin and Freda could say anything further, Hannah breezed in with a bouquet of flowers. ‘Nice timing,’ she said to Robin. ‘Here, let me hand these flowers to Freda and then I will be able to hug the proud father.’
When Hannah released Robin from her bear hug, she babbled, ‘Have you seen your pretty daughter? What do you think of the cute little dimple in the middle of her chin?’
Freda and Robin exchanged a worried glance. Of course, thought Freda, when Robin looked at Poppy he would also have noticed the tell-tale dimple and known for certain that Ewan was her father. Now, the problem was this: would anybody else make the connection?
Unaware of Robin and Freda’s dilemma, Hannah blundered on, ‘Here, see, when I was leaving today, I bumped into Ewan. He told me he was visiting his uncle in ENT, and I was just so full of the baby that I told him you were on the maternity ward and that you had just given birth to a daughter. He seemed to get a bit emotional . . . I thought that was strange, him being a doctor, but I think he must have been upset about his uncle. Did he visit you on his way out?’
Freda shook her head. ‘No,’ was her emphatic response. ‘Well, if he did, I was asleep.’
*
Freda and the baby had been home for two days when Ewan called in to see them. Luckily, it was Freda’s mother’s day off, and she had agreed to do some shopping for Freda. Of course, Ellen could only do that if she got to walk out with the baby in her new, top-of-the-range, coach-built, forest-green Marmet pram . . .
Before Ewan was seated, Freda decided that she had to grant him no quarter. ‘What on earth did you think that you were doing, going into the nursery to look at Poppy?’
‘Surely I would be less than human if I found out that my daughter had just been born but simply walked on by because I did not think enough of her to go and visit her?’