by Rachel Ennis
Annie sighed. ‘You’ve got her all wrong, Viv.’
‘No I haven’t.’ Viv’s chest swelled with indignation. ‘She never said one word of thanks, not one. That wasn’t why we did it. But just the same –’
‘She didn’t thank you,’ Annie said, ‘because she couldn’t believe what you’d done.’ They stared at her. ‘We heard the front door close as we reached the kitchen. She asked if the two of you had gone. When I said yes, she broke down. In floods she was. Kept asking why would we do that for her? I told her people looked after each other in the village.’
Viv looked at Jess, her anger visibly dissolving. Mor pressed a hand to her throat.
Annie went on, ‘She said she knew we didn’t like her, yet we’d gone and done all that. How was she supposed to live with a debt like that, let alone repay us?’
‘We didn’t do it to be paid,’ Viv said, glancing at Jess who nodded. ‘A thank-you would have been plenty.’
‘Viv, think a minute,’ Annie urged. ‘What do you know about her?’
‘Her father went to prison.’ Viv said. ‘He didn’t just steal from the council who employed him, he stole money raised for wounded servicemen. Frances and her mother had to leave their home and the village.’
‘It wasn’t their crime, but they suffered for it,’ Claire murmured. ‘Once Frances started school, as soon as the rest of the class found out about her father – and they would – they’d have made her life hell.’
‘Especially if any of them had lost fathers or grandfathers in the war,’ Mor added. ‘They’d still be grieving.’
‘That would have made her back off from even trying to make friends,’ said Claire.
‘From what I’ve heard her first marriage was happy,’ Jess offered.
‘But he died,’ Gill said. ‘So she was alone again.’
‘When she remarried she’d have been hoping for roots and stability, a final chance at happiness,’ Claire said. ‘How must she have felt when she realised that all he wanted was her money?’
‘At least she got rid of the bastard,’ said Viv. ‘I wonder why she came back here?’
‘Because this is where her family’s from,’ Annie said. ‘When word got out who her father was, she knew it was bound to – at least here it was old news. She acts like she’s hard and cold. But that’s all it is, an act. The truth is she’s raw nerves wrapped in skin thinner than a cobweb. She doesn’t make friends because she’s scared: scared she’s not good enough; scared of rejection. All that business about the catalogue clothes was because she’s only got her pension but was desperate to keep up the pretence that she was comfortably off and didn’t need anyone feeling sorry for her. But when we went into her home we blew that apart. She’s crippled with shame over what we saw.’
‘Shame? For heaven’s sake, the poor soul was ill,’ Viv said.
‘Not just the state of the place,’ Jess said, understanding as she met Annie’s gaze. ‘Most of her clothes are old. Once we’d tidied up you could see there wasn’t much furniture and the carpets probably came with the bungalow when she bought it.’
‘Will she be coming down the Over-Sixties lunch tomorrow?’ Mor asked.
‘I shouldn’t think so,’ Annie said. ‘She’s still weak. But she should be all right to come down next week. She might not be up to helping, but she needs company.’
‘And a meal she haven’t had to make herself,’ said Viv. ‘Be a treat that will.’
‘I’ll walk up tomorrow morning,’ Mor said. ‘Now I’ve finished work –’
‘You have?’ Viv’s eyebrows rose.
Mor nodded. ‘It was Ben’s idea. I put in my notice the week we got married.’
‘How does it feel, being home all the time?’ Gill wanted to know.
Mor beamed. ‘I love it. I aren’t always on the run, and I got more time for the garden. This past year have caught up with me. I been feeling awful tired.’
‘That’s too much bed and not enough sleep,’ Viv teased.
‘Viv!’ Gill, Jess and Claire spoke simultaneously.
‘I don’t mind,’ Mor grinned, blushing like a sunset. ‘Truth is I never knew all that could be so nice.’
‘Good for Ben,’ Claire said, sending a warning glare to Viv as she opened her mouth to respond. ‘Are Percy’s affairs all settled?’
‘Getting there. He left a life insurance that paid for his funeral with a tidy bit left over. Anyhow, like I said, now I’m not working I got more time. I’ll take an apple crumble and a small tub of cream up to Frances. I’ll say it’s a welcome home gift to save her cooking. If I tell her I can’t stop she won’t feel she got to ask me in.’
‘Mor, you’re a gem.’ Jess smiled and Mor blushed.
‘If it wasn’t for all of you I wouldn’t be here, married to Ben and happier than I ever dreamed.’
‘I s’pose I could pick her up next week, save her the walk down,’ Viv said.
‘I’ll be seeing her tomorrow,’ Annie said. ‘I’ll write it on her calendar. If you give her a ring next Tuesday morning, she’ll know you haven’t forgot.’
‘And it will give her something to look forward to,’ Jess added.
Viv turned to Gill. ‘Heard anything from the police, have you?’
‘I have. They caught the two lads that night. They’d stolen the van the day before. Both of them are swearing it was Brianna put them up to it.’
Mor gasped. ‘No! That’s wicked. How could she do such a thing?’
Viv snorted. ‘Why aren’t I surprised? I wouldn’t put anything past that girl.’
‘The detective told me the lads – cousins they are, one nineteen, the other twenty-one – were interviewed separately and both told the same story. Brianna was mad with Sandra for cutting her wages because she was always late coming in to work. The robbery was to pay Sandra back.’
‘Had Brianna told them about the alarm not working properly?’ Jess asked.
Gill nodded. ‘She said they should come late afternoon. We’re in October now so it start getting dark early, ‘specially if it’s cloudy, and that time of day there wouldn’t be many people around. I’d be doing the balance before locking the money in the safe. None of them knew Jess was there. If it wasn’t for her –’ she shuddered then sat up straighter, smoothing her skirt on her lap. ‘Anyway, Gerry rang the Post Office about the alarm. They have preferred companies they use. There’s one over Truro. They sent someone out.’ She stopped, her face flushing a delicate rose-pink.
Jess grinned. ‘No more dating agencies?’
‘What?’ Claire looked round. ‘What dating agency? What did I miss?’
‘Nothing,’ Annie waved a calming hand. ‘It was a disaster.’
‘You was ill with that cold,’ Mor explained.
Beaming, Viv leaned towards Gill. ‘Come on, maid. What’s he called? Where’s he from?
‘His name is Howard Pengelly. He lives over Camborne. He’s fifty-six, just a couple of years older than –’
‘Divorced or widower?’ Viv broke in. ‘What?’ she shrugged as the others looked at her. ‘Last thing Gill want is someone that age still living home with mother.’
‘You have a point,’ Claire admitted.
‘He was married,’ Gill said. ‘But his wife left him after their son was killed on his motorbike.’
‘Oh, Gill,’ Jess touched her hand in a gesture of comfort. ‘Losing a child is such a sad thing to have in common.’
Gill lifted one shoulder. ‘That’s true. But see, people who haven’t been through it don’t know what it’s like and you can’t explain.’
‘I do,’ Annie said quietly. They all looked at her.
‘You do what?’ Viv said, bewildered.
‘I know what it’s like. I had a son. He didn’t die but I had to give him up, so for me it was like he had.’
There was a collective intake of breath and Jess realised this was why Annie had intended coming to see her.
‘Bleddy hell, Annie,’ Viv pressed a hand
to her throat. ‘All these years and you never let on?’
‘How old was you, bird?’ Gill’s tone was gentle.
‘Sixteen when I fell for him, just seventeen when he was born. I carried him inside me for nine months, but I never held him in my arms.’
‘How didn’t you ever say?’ Viv’s eyes glistened. ‘Didn’t you trust us?’
‘It wasn’t our business.’ Jess patted Viv’s shoulder. ‘Or anyone else’s. Anyway, she’s telling us now.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll make a fresh pot.’ She switched on the kettle.
‘I need the loo,’ Gill hurried towards the stairs. ‘Don’t start without me.’
‘Gill,’ Annie called after her, ‘I didn’t mean to spoil your news.’
‘You haven’t, my lover.’ Gill’s expression was warm with sympathy and understanding.
Viv cut more cake and carried the serving plate back to the coffee table. ‘All I’m saying, Annie, is you didn’t need to bear it on your own. We’re friends, and friends support each other. We don’t talk outside neither.’
Annie cleared a roughness from her throat. ‘Yes, we’ve known each other for years. But ’tis only since Jess come back to the village we’ve become proper close friends.’
‘That’s true,’ Viv acknowledged.
‘There’s no forgetting how that happened,’ Jess recalled.
‘Keeping the secret of that dear baby born the night of the carol service,’ Gill said, returning to the sofa. ‘And Mor singing her heart out to drown any noise.’
‘I remember that.’ Mor’s face softened at the memory. ‘What was that little maid’s name, Jess?’
‘Farah, and her fiancé was Khaled.’
‘That’s them,’ Viv recalled. ‘We had to pretend everything was just like normal and all the time she was upstairs in labour. Have you heard how they are, Jess?’
‘They’re doing fine.’ Jess set the refilled teapot on the table, sat down and leaned forward. ‘If you had to give your baby up, Annie, whatever made you choose nursing and midwifery?’
‘I wasn’t punishing myself. I aren’t no martyr. But I was bleddy angry at the unfairness of it. It takes two to make a baby. But ‘twas always the girl who suffered. Before 1967 abortion was against the law. Even after it changed it wasn’t like it is now where you can get pills, or just walk into a clinic at lunchtime and go back to work an hour later.
‘In the Home I heard stories of girls so terrified they went to some woman in a backstreet who’d use a knitting needle on them. Some bled to death. Others was so badly damaged they could never carry another child.
‘If a girl kept her baby, she was called a slut and her child a bastard. If she gave it up for adoption, she had no feelings.’ The raw pain and fury in Annie’s tone pierced Jess like a blade. ‘I couldn’t change what happened to me, but I could make it a bit easier for other girls.’
‘That was some brave, Annie,’ said Viv. Shaking her head, Annie would have spoken but Gill got in first.
‘I don’t care what you say, working with babies after you’d had to give up your own – that took more courage than I’ve got. I couldn’t have done it. After we lost Mark at least George and me had each other. Sounds like you were on your own.’
Annie took a tissue from her sleeve and wiped her nose. ‘You saving that tea, Jess?’
‘I was just waiting for it to brew.’ Jess poured and as Viv put another slice of cake on each plate, Annie lifted her cup. Jess heard it rattle against her teeth. ‘You don’t have to tell us, Annie,’ Jess began.
‘Yes she do,’ Viv said. ‘She been carrying that weight of grief all these years. Be lighter once she share it.’
Annie’s mouth twitched, the corners tilting up. ‘You aren’t so daft as you look.’
Viv grinned back. ‘I have my moments. C’mon on then.’
‘I’d been going steady with Keith for eighteen months. It was first love for both of us. Thought the world of each other we did. You know what it’s like. But this was back in 1966. Only two chemist shops in town sold rubbers. The assistants knew us and knew our parents. Keith said the barber shop in the main street had them, but he didn’t have the nerve to go in and ask in case the barber showed him up in front of customers. So we took chances.’ She shrugged. ‘We got caught.’
‘Dear life!’ Viv pulled a face. ‘Who by?’
‘I mean I fell pregnant,’ Annie said.
‘You must have been terrified,’ Jess said.
Annie nodded. ‘I didn’t tell Keith, not right off. I kept hoping I’d got my dates wrong. But then I started with morning sickness. I tried to keep it secret, only I had it in the evening as well. Anyhow, Mother heard me and I had to tell her.’
‘How did she take it?’ Gill asked.
Beneath Annie’s wry expression Jess glimpsed never-forgotten hurt. ‘Badly. I had no business having sex at my age. What would people think? No way was she telling my father. I could do that, seeing I’d got myself into this mess. He would never forgive me. How could I have let them down like that?’
‘Bloody hell, Annie,’ Claire whispered as Gill gasped.
‘So what did your dad say?’ Viv demanded.
‘That I’d disappointed him.’
Jess pressed Annie’s clasped hands. ‘And that was worse than all your mother’s ranting.’
Annie gave a brief nod. ‘I’d always got on better with him than Mother. The look on his face –’ she turned her head away.
‘Not much support, were they?’ Viv tossed her head.
‘The night after, Mother said there was no need for one mistake to ruin our lives. She made me get into a scalding hot bath and gave me half a glass of gin to drink. All that did was make me sick as a dog.’
‘So where was your boyfriend?’ Gill asked. ‘You didn’t get pregnant on your own.’
‘Keith stood by me. He wanted us to get married. But our parents wouldn’t hear of it. They said we were too young. Anyway, where would we live? How would we support ourselves? I couldn’t work, not with a young baby. Mother said she wasn’t bringing up another child, and Keith’s mother had three younger girls at home. Thing is, they were right. In a year we’d have hated each other. Father said I was to have the baby and it would be adopted. So I went away to a Mother & Baby Home.’
‘Did they visit you?’ Gill asked.
Annie shook her head. ‘Mother wrote to say Keith had signed up for the Navy.’
‘Didn’t he write to you himself?’
Annie shrugged. ‘If he did, no letter ever reached me. But then he didn’t know where I was.’
‘Couldn’t you have written to him?’ Mor asked.
‘No point.’
‘What d’you mean, no point?’ Viv argued. ‘I thought you loved him.’
‘I did. But there was no future for us.’
‘Why not, bird?’ Gill asked gently, then sighed in realisation before Annie could speak. ‘Oh, of course.’
Annie gave another terse nod.
‘What d’you mean, of course? What are you on about?’ Viv demanded.
‘Getting back together would have been a constant reminder of the baby they’d been forced to give up,’ Jess explained.
Viv closed her eyes. ‘Bleddy hell. Thick as a brick I am. Sorry, Annie.’
Chapter Seven
‘Was what it like in the Home?’ Gill asked.
‘There were ten of us, all different ages. Me and another girl were sixteen. We were the youngest. Our fathers paid for us to be there, but we had to do chores as well. Father arranged for me to have schoolwork and two hours each day to do it. He said I had to think about my future. In our free time we watched TV and knitted matinee jackets. Another thing we did was pick up an empty cardboard box each from the local shop. Then we each decorated them with drawings we coloured in and pictures cut out of magazines.’
‘What was the box for?’ asked Mor.
‘To hold everything the baby would need for the first six weeks: nappies, blankets, little nig
htgowns, and the jackets we knitted. When the new parents came for the baby, they took the box as well.’
‘Did you have any ante-natal care?’ Claire asked.
‘A midwife and doctor came once a month to check our blood pressure and how the baby was growing. But they didn’t tell us anything about what to expect during the birth, and they were so stern we didn’t like to ask. Some Homes had a maternity ward but ours didn’t. My waters broke while I was washing the kitchen floor. It was the day after my birthday. The matron sent me in a taxi to the local hospital. Father had left money for that.’
‘Who went with you?’ Mor asked.
Swallowing, Annie shook her head. ‘The Home was short-staffed and couldn’t spare anyone.’
There was a moment of silence. ‘Had you visited the hospital before?’ asked Claire and Jess knew all of them were imagining how Annie must have felt; scared, in pain, walking into a strange place to give birth without family or friend for company or support.
‘No.’
‘How long were you in labour?’ asked Gill.
‘Twelve hours.’
Air hissed through Viv’s teeth. ‘You must have been bleddy terrified.’
‘I was. One nurse was lovely. Meg, she was called. Meg Wakeling. The others – they walked past like I wasn’t there.’ Annie swallowed more tea. ‘In the ward I asked one if I could have something for the pain. She called me Miss Rogers very loud, so everyone else in the ward would know I wasn’t married. Then she bent down and said the pain was my punishment for fornication. I told her she had no right judging me. She was no Christian either, calling an innocent baby a punishment. She pulled the curtains round my bed then left me on my own for hours.
‘When he was born, soon as the cord was cut, a nurse wrapped him in a towel and took him away. I never even held him. Meg told me it would be harder for me if I got attached to him.’
Jess recalled her twins being born, her elation despite being tired and sore; Alex’s tears as he held her hand, kissed it, and told her how much he loved her; Nan and Grampy’s beaming delight.
‘Father came and signed all the papers for him to be adopted. He didn’t stop long. Mother had stayed home. The matron promised he would go to loving parents.’