by Annie Murray
‘Hello, love. Have a nice time at school?’
‘Umm.’
‘What did you do today?’
‘Lessons, of course.’ He didn’t even look round and there was a savage edge to his tone which was completely unlike him. Edie stood, hurt and uncertain, the edge of the door held against her cheek. She thought about telling him off, but she sensed he had not meant to be rude.
‘We’ll have a natter when you’ve finished.’ And she went downstairs.
He was almost silent through tea. It was only when he was in bed that she got to the bottom of it. It was always the time he was at his softest. He was the big man in the day when he was with his friends: at night he was still the little boy who wanted a cuddle.
She found him lying with his face turned away from her, curly hair, recently shorn to go to the new school, dark against the white pillowcase.
‘Night, night,’ she said.
There was no reply.
‘Can’t you find a kiss for me, Davey? Is summat wrong?’
Eventually he rolled over, frowning and she sat on the bed.
‘What is it, love?’
He still couldn’t get the words out. He tried to blink away his tears.
‘Has someone been nasty to you at school?’
‘No – not really nasty,’ he managed to say. ‘It was just – after rugby . . .’
The story jerked out of him. In the showers, one of the other boys had noticed something about him, something he’d never known about himself, started pointing . . .
‘My – you know . . .’ He waved his hand over the lower part of his body. ‘My thing . . . Is different from everybody else’s.’
Edie’s mind raced. Was Davey different? Blushing at the nature of the conversation, she thought quickly back to any other man’s willy she’d ever seen. Not many, when you came down to it. Her father’s – never. Rodney, whose napkins she’d often changed and bathed him, and Jack . . .
‘They said I’d been circumscribed – or something like that.’
Circumcised! It dawned on her. Yes – of course, he was, though she’d never given it much thought before, just taken it that that was the way he was. Weren’t lots of men circumcised?
‘Then they saw that two of the other boys were the same and one of them, Dan, said it’s because he’s Jewish. Does that mean I’m Jewish as well?’
Edie felt herself floundering. She was gripped by terrible panic. I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or why they did this to you . . . What should she know about boys being circumcised? Rodney hadn’t been done, that was all she was sure about.
‘No! No, of course it doesn’t!’ She tried to laugh, taking his hand. ‘You said there was another boy as well – what did he say?’
‘He didn’t. He didn’t seem to know. Why am I? Why were they laughing at me?’
‘Well, sometimes the doctors just think it’s the right thing, when you’re born . . .’
‘But did you ask them to do it?’
His gaze seemed to burn into her. She withered inside. Oh heavens, more lies. What could she tell him?
‘No, but they thought it was the right thing,’ she said firmly. ‘It really doesn’t matter, love. You’re not the only one, are you? Now you mustn’t let them upset you. If they say anything, you just say, well, that’s the way I am, eh? They’ll soon forget about it.’
He was still frowning. ‘Circumcised,’ he said slowly.
‘Look, sweetheart, it’s nothing.’ She kissed him goodnight, babying him. ‘You go to bye-byes now. It won’t seem so bad in the morning.’
The next evening after work she went home and asked Frances if she could borrow Janet’s old boneshaker of a bike to cycle into town. Gripping the handlebars and trying to get used to the wonky brakes, she toiled through the backstreets in the dying evening, the air full of smoke from the chimneys. She reached Highgate, the streets a hotch-potch of terraces and cramped back-to back houses around communal courts. The streets were alive with children playing out before bed and she had to brake hard as a metal hoop, pursued by a young girl, came flying out into the road right in front of her.
‘Watch it!’ she shouted, screeching to a halt, her heart thudding.
‘Watch it yerself, missis!’ The girl shouted smartly, disappearing down an entry on the other side.
Another street away and she reached the place where Martin had his surgery. She knew he often worked late, and hoped he’d still be there, though he and Janet lived further out in a little house in King’s Heath, a more suburban area. Martin had chosen to go into general practice in a poorer district.
As Edie leaned her bike against the wall of the large terraced house, she saw through the blind that there was a light on in his consulting room at the front. A wizened rose bush splayed against the wall by the front door, and just above it were two plaques displaying the names which shared the practice: Doctors M. A. Ferris and J. R. Weller.
Dr Weller, a pale, but kindly looking man about Martin’s age, answered the door and Edie was shown into Martin’s room. As she entered he looked up from the shadow behind a pool of light thrown on to the papers in front of him by the desklamp. For a moment as he looked up, she saw in his face an unguarded moment of sadness, of enormous weariness, as if to say, ‘What now?’ But seeing who she was, he immediately got up, face lightening into a smile.
‘Hello there, Edie! This is a nice surprise. Thanks, Jonathan.’ The other doctor went out, closing the door, and Martin offered Edie a chair. ‘Come and sit down. Let me put the light on so we can at least see each other.’
When he switched on the overhead light Edie saw how exhausted he still looked. The war, his months of lying close to death, had aged Martin considerably. Though still an imposing-looking man, in both size and appearance, his features were lined and haggard.
Though she was glad to find him still at work, she watched him sink into the chair behind his desk, thinking, why are you still here? Why aren’t you at home with Janet, instead of sitting in this bare little room?
He sat forward and tidied a coil of black rubber tubing on his desk. It was attached to a piece of apparatus which took Edie back to the hospital, when she had given birth.
‘What’s that for?’ she pointed. She was nervous and it was something to say.
‘This?’ He pushed it to one side. ‘Oh, that’s for measuring blood pressure. It goes by the rather inflated title of a sphygmomanometer.’ His lips turned upwards. ‘You don’t want to have to repeat that after a glass or two.’
‘No,’ Edie smiled, thinking what a kind face Martin had. It was so sad that a couple like he and Janet should be suffering so.
‘Can I help you in any way, or were you just passing?’
‘No, I came specially to see you. I hope you don’t mind.’ She fiddled with the strap of her bag. Martin sat back in his chair, listening. ‘I know you’re not my doctor, but I wanted to ask you . . . It’s Davey. He came home from school yesterday and said the other boys’d teased him because one of them saw he’d been . . .’ She blushed hot all over, suddenly aware of what they were going to have to talk about. ‘I mean I don’t think my brother Rodney was, in fact I’m sure he wasn’t, and Davey must’ve thought it so odd that I didn’t know why he had been . . . And I couldn’t think what to tell him.’
‘Been what?’ Martin prompted gently.
‘Circumcised.’ She spoke staring into her lap. When she looked up, Martin was nodding thoughtfully. ‘He asked me if he was Jewish.’
‘Well, of course it’s possible. Circumcision in general is on the decline these days, among non-Jews at least, but a great many boys used to be done round the turn of the century. I think my father was circumcised, come to think of it. The Victorians got rather keen on it – they seemed to think it was more hygienic, and perhaps that it would stop boys – you know . . . Well, that it would calm them down.’
Edie sensed that even Martin was embarrassed now.
‘Seems a horrible
thing,’ she said, shuddering. ‘Brutal when you think of it. But there are still people having it done?’
‘Yes, but fewer. More a middle-class preoccupation really. I seldom ever see it round here.’
There was a silence. Edie looked across at Martin, trying to formulate what she wanted to say. She desperately needed a man’s point of view. Davey’s one question – why am I circumcised? – cut through to the very core of all her worries. There were so many things she was concerned about, on top of the day-to-day problems of bringing up a child, and central to them was that he had no father and was growing up in a house of women. That wasn’t so unusual after all the wars, but Edie felt it keenly. Thinking of her own father didn’t seem to give her much to go on. And Davey was so different from her, increasingly hard to read. Above all, though, she knew David was starting to ask the biggest question of all: who am I? And it was Martin, who had carried him in that night out of the fire and thunder of the bombing, who might be able to provide her with a clue. The questions swam, half-formed, round her mind, but she could not bring them out. She simply could not bear to ask. Instead, looking into his eyes, she whispered, ‘I don’t know what to do.’
For a moment he stared back at her and she knew he understood what she was struggling to ask.
‘There’s very little I can tell you. Really.’
‘Oh.’ She looked away, at the small wooden cabinet by the wall. Inside were instruments and jars.
Martin pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘Edie, Europe is swarming with refugees and displaced children. Davey’s one of the luckiest ones. He couldn’t have had a happier childhood or a better mother. What more does he need?’
His words brought tears to her eyes. She looked up at him, such a tall, lean figure the other side of the desk. ‘I don’t know, Martin. That’s the problem. But thank you – you’ve been a help.’
She thanked him again at the door. ‘Give my love to Janet.’
‘Come and see us soon.’ For a second she felt his large hand on her shoulder. ‘Look, if you’re really determined to dig up more about him it probably won’t be difficult. Just ask and I’ll give you any help I can. When you’re ready.’
Thirty-Three
‘Where?’
Ruby was the only one who reacted straight away. ‘Where the flipping heck’s that when it’s at home?’
They had gathered to see the New Year in at Janet and Martin’s house: Edie, David, Frances and Ruby with Marleen and Greta, settled in, cosy by the hearth, Janet’s floral curtains drawn closed against the cold night. Greta and Marleen were kneeling on the rug roasting chestnuts in the fire and being soundly ignored by David, who sat up with the adults, despite Marleen peering hopefully in his direction every few minutes. Janet had passed round drinks of warm, spicy wine and mince pies when they broke the news. Edie was silenced by her astonishment. Surely that couldn’t be right? They were talking about moving to the other side of the world!
‘The Belgian Congo, on the Equator, north of Bechuanaland,’ Martin informed Ruby, laughing at her scandalized expression.
Ruby grimaced. ‘Well, I’m none the wiser for that. What d’you want to go there for, wherever-the-hell it is?’
Edie listened as Martin explained their plans. He seemed to laugh so much more freely these days, she noticed. She wondered how Frances was taking the news. She was sitting on the settee, hugging her cardigan round her and staring thoughtfully into the fire. Edie realized that she had already known. She felt hurt for a moment that she had not been told earlier. How long ago had Frances been told?
Janet came over and sat down next to her. Edie looked into her round, sympathetic face. She could see Janet was aware that she was feeling a bit hurt.
‘Well,’ Edie tried to sounded lighthearted. ‘This is quite something. I can’t take it in. All I can think of is Katherine Hepburn in The African Queen!’
Janet laughed. ‘Well – not quite, I hope!’ Apologetically, she added. ‘We wanted to gather everyone and break the news – and this is the first time we’ve all been together. But we had to tell Martin’s family when we were there for Christmas, so I thought I couldn’t go without mentioning it to Mum.’ She reached out and squeezed Edie’s hand. ‘Actually, I couldn’t face telling anyone at first. It’s made me realize it’s real, and it’s happening so soon!’
‘When?’ Edie felt suddenly panicky. They couldn’t be leaving yet – she needed time to adjust to the idea!
‘March.’ She gave a wavering smile. ‘Now the New Year’s here, that suddenly feels terribly close.’
Edie searched her friend’s face, trying to work out what were her real feelings about it.
‘D’you really want to go, Jan? What will you do?’
Janet sighed, her fingers fiddling with the pin in her tartan kilt. She gave Edie a wistful smile.
‘I do want to. Yes, I think I do.’ Edie saw her brace herself to go on. ‘It seems certain now that Martin and I are not going to have a family. He desperately needs to branch out and do something new. And I shall . . . well, we’ll see, won’t we? Martin thinks he’ll be able to find me plenty of work to do. I shall have to see what’s needed when I get there. I have a feeling it’ll be all right.’ She grinned. ‘That’s not to say I’m not jolly worried at times though, I can tell you!’
‘I bet you are.’ Edie was still full of wonder. She could see Janet was quite excited, if apprehensive. For herself, she felt desolate. ‘Feels as if everyone’s branching out – what with Ruby’s American family.’
‘What’s that?’ Ruby called across to her from by the fire. ‘Oi – watch it, Greta, you’ll have Marleen’s eye out with that! Somebody talking about me?’
Making a joke of it, Edie said, ‘Well – I seem to be the one to be a homebird!’
‘That’s a perfectly good thing to be,’ Frances assured her. Edie accepted this with a smile, knowing that it was also what Frances had been forced to be, that her stability had allowed everyone else to take wing. She turned her measured gaze on Ruby. ‘And when is it you’re going?’
‘Oh, not until summer I don’t think,’ Ruby said importantly. ‘When the girls’re off school.’
There was enormous pride in her voice. She and her daughters were to go and visit the family in America! It was a subject she never tired of. It had taken her some months after the war to work up the courage to write and tell Wally’s parents that they had a granddaughter in England, but when she did so, she received a rapturous reply. Neither Wally’s brother nor sister were showing signs of getting married and so far they had no grandchildren. They knew the pressures everyone was under during those dark times, they said. Of course, had Wally lived he would have come back and married her. He was a good Christian boy: if he said he’d do a thing, he did it. Since they had found out about Greta, Ed and Louisa Sorenson had shown Ruby enormous kindness. Soren-son’s store was booming in post-war Fairmont. They had expanded twice, into the buildings flanking them on each side, selling lingerie and garments in one side and garden tools and lawnmowers the other. They had enough ready money to have flown the Atlantic twice now to visit Ruby and Greta. Edie felt that they had been rather startled by Ruby and Ethel and their forthright ways at first, but they were very polite, genteel people, and declared themselves enchanted to learn that Ethel was a singer and once a dancer and they seemed to find Lionel very amusing. Ethel and Lionel had moved out to a new house at Rednal and were able to put the Sorensons up for some of their stay. Louisa showered Marleen and Greta with gifts, especially clothes, and the girls loved showing off their American fashions to the neighbours’ kids. Now they were determined that Ruby should take Greta over to see her father’s home and said they would pay her fare to visit with the girls.
Edie was relieved and happy that things were turning out so well for Ruby, even though she was still bringing up the girls on her own. It had been so miserable for Ruby, seeing the pictures in the papers at the end of the war of all the GI brides in smiling rows on the
decks of ships, bound for the United States and Canada to be reunited with their husbands. How Ruby would have loved that! But for her there had been no husband, no sea voyage, only more struggle and hard work bringing up her daughters alone with rationing dragging on and on.
‘We’re going to see Nana and Grandad again, aren’t we?’ she said to Greta, who nodded with enthusiasm.
Edie saw Marleen make a mocking face. She got up and walked across the room as if to fetch something. She was trying to attract David’s attention, but to her annoyance he’d sat back and was engrossed in a book. Pert little madam, Edie thought, as Marleen minced past, wiggling her hips in her swinging American skirt. Always after all the attention. She glanced at David’s handsome, intent face and smiled to herself. I see my son has good taste. You needn’t think he’ll show any interest in you, miss. But she could sympathize with Marleen getting fed up with hearing about Greta’s exotic grandparents when both sets of her own lived up the road. I suppose she’s just trying to keep her end up, she thought.
‘Come and sit with me a minute, dear.’ Frances beckoned to Marleen, seeing her looking left out. ‘D’you fancy a game of rummy? I’m sure Martin and Janet have some cards.’
Marleen nodded rather petulantly, but sat down. Frances was the one person who had full command over her.
They passed the evening happily, eating Christmas cake round the fire, reminiscing and hearing about everyone’s plans for the new year ahead. Martin tried to make conversation with David and got as far as, ‘What are you reading, David?’
David looked up at him, dazed for a second, as if he was returning to a different and unfamiliar world.
‘Oh—’ He showed them the cover. ‘It’s called Lord of the Flies. My English master lent it to me. It’s extremely good . . .’ And then they’d lost him again.
Martin looked at Edie and shrugged and they laughed.