by Janet Woods
She laughed.
There came the sound of a throat being cleared and they jumped apart when Ma appeared. Looking from one to the other, she grinned. ‘You Thornton men are becoming fixtures around the place. If it isn’t one, it’s the other.’
Leo’s eyes sharpened. ‘Alex has been here? How did he manage to escape from the farm.’
‘He brought young Minnie home a couple of times from the women’s shelter. He’s courting her, I reckon. Not that she’s got much time to be courted in. She’s always rushing around doing things for people.’
‘Alex is seeing Minnie . . . the sneaky hound,’ Leo breathed, and a grin spread over his face. ‘Did you know about it Es?’
She shook her head. ‘No . . . she hasn’t said a word. I work mornings at the centre, doing paperwork and dishing out advice, and Minnie does nights. I’m hoping to get a paid job now this cast is off. The agency has my details, but I can only take a temporary position, so that sets my chances back.’
Ma had been shopping and she handed Esmé a parcel. ‘I’ve bought you a present. I found a length of damask that would make a classy wedding dress, with a little jacket. I went to see a dressmaker and pretended I was a prospective customer, and I looked at their designs. I used to be a seamstress before I married, and I reckon I can make you one. Apparently, long dresses worn with hats with lace are fashionable this year.’ She grinned in triumph. ‘The material came from the market, and it was really cheap. There’s a sewing machine somewhere. I’ll see if I can dig it out.’
‘Thanks, Ma. That’s kind of you. I’ve spent all my savings.’
‘I know. You and Minnie both. The pair of you are getting names for yourselves as soft touches.’
‘What can you do when a child is hungry and has nobody to turn to?’
‘You can’t feed them all.’ Ma’s face softened. ‘Your heart is in the right place, I’ll give you that. Now . . . where’s that Lillian got to?’
‘I sent her upstairs to have a rest before the bar opens.’
‘Good. I’ll leave you lovebirds alone and go and peel some potatoes for dinner, it will save doing it later.’
‘Leo was just about to leave, anyway.’
He frowned after Ma had gone. ‘The fact that you might be short of cash had never crossed my mind. You must allow me to pay for the wedding expenses. I’ll go to the bank and get you some money tomorrow. I’ll drop it off.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing Alex?’ she asked Minnie that same evening.
‘With it being so soon after Wally’s death, I didn’t want people to gossip. You know what those men in the bar are like when they get together. Besides, I’m not seeing Alex, at least, not officially. I’m allowing him to see me. He’s taken me home from the shelter a couple of times, that’s all. Oh . . . and he’s invited me out to the station and has offered to teach me how to ride a horse.’
Esmé laughed. ‘He’ll have you shearing sheep and tossing them over your shoulder before too long.’
Minnie grinned. ‘I’m quite enjoying the display of his male skills. Alex is quiet and shy by nature, you know.’
‘He won’t be when it gets down to brass tacks, I imagine.’
Minnie dissolved into laughter. ‘Lady Esmé, you surprise me sometimes. Don’t you say another word, and before you ask: Yes, I like Alex . . . a lot. Yes, he knows the circumstances of my marriage to Wally. Yes, he’s kissed me goodnight and yes I enjoyed it. And if he happens to ask me . . . the answer to that question will also be yes. But I don’t want to rush into anything yet, or do anything to frighten him off.’
‘So we might end up as sisters-in-law, if you survive the riding lessons.’
‘We might. Would you mind, Es?’
‘I’d welcome it. Alex is such a solid, hard-working man, one who takes his responsibility seriously. Leo has a great deal of respect for him. You know Min, in all seriousness, Alex is just the type of man you need, and you’ll suit each other perfectly. As for him, he’ll get an absolute gem to share his life with.’
Tears misted Minnie’s eyes and her voice thickened. ‘Thank you, Es. I’m really going to miss you.’
‘Think of it this way. When you snag your farmer we’ll be related, and so will our kids, so we’ll see a lot of each other in the future.’
They hugged each other tight, then Esmé said as they pulled apart, ‘Good luck. Ma will miss you.’
‘Oh, Ma will manage. She gets on famously with Lillian, and has the baby to look forward to.’
‘I do hope Lillian has the baby before I leave for England in October. I think she might have the dates wrong. Which of us will deliver it?’
Ironic laughter trickled from Minnie. ‘I shall claim that honour because she’s carrying my former husband’s child. But you can assist if you like, and if I’m not here at the time, then it will all be up to you.’ She spread her hands. ‘I think you’re right about the earlier date. If I dare utter the unspoken . . . I have my suspicions.’
‘I think we need to give Lillian the benefit of the doubt. I’m curious to see the baby, though.’
‘Lillian’s young to have the responsibility of a child.’
‘She might be young, but she has a sharp mind, and is shaping up to be a real asset. And haven’t you noticed how Ma’s been doing herself up a bit lately, especially with Reg paying her more attention. If you ask me she won’t miss either of us for long.’
With the money question resolved, and a budget set, Esmé was able to get on with arrangements for her wedding.
‘If I smarten the bar up we could have the reception here, one of those help yourself affairs,’ Ma said halfway through September. ‘I haven’t polished the brass for years.’
Everything took off after that. Reg layered two coats of whitewash over the smoke-stained ceiling and painted the inner walls a golden yellow and the outer walls cream. The maroon tiles outside were given a wash. The final result was dazzling, as though they’d let the sunshine in. The bar fittings were polished, as were the brass handles on the two oak entrance doors. Mirrors and windows were cleaned, and the flypaper swapped for a new curl.
Ma went down to the cellars and rummaged around, coming back up covered in dust and staggering under the weight of a sign.
‘The chains broke in a storm some fifteen years ago, and nearly flattened one of the customers. My Harry promised to put it up again, but he never got round to it. Fetch us a dish of soapy water and a cloth, Lil. I’ll give her a good dowsing.’
From under the dirt emerged the picture of an over-endowed woman in historical clothes, and the words, Red Rafferty’s Inn. She had a leery face, flaming red hair; a low-cut green bodice and a tankard of ale clutched in her podgy fist. The other side showed her in the same position but painted from the back view.
‘What do you think?’ Ma said.
The four of them contemplated Red Rafferty in silence.
‘She’s a bit on the vulgar side, but she has something,’ Esmé said cautiously.
‘Big whatsits?’ Ma suggested.
Minnie added her opinion. ‘That aside . . . she’s certainly no Van Gogh.’
Cocking her head to one side, Esmé countered that with, ‘Actually, it’s an original William Cheeseman, painted in 1902.’
Ma’s eyes widened as she gazed at Esmé. ‘And how do you know all that arty-farty stuff, Miss Clever Clogs?’
Esmé’s smile had an edge of smugness to it. ‘It might look like an inscription, but the details are painted on the side of the tankard.’
Peering closer, Ma squinted at the tankard. ‘I can’t see what it says.’
‘Try putting your glasses on, Ma!’
‘Another know-it-all. Still, you can’t help it, being nurses, and all. It’s trained into you.’
Lillian gave a trill of laughter. ‘I like Red Rafferty. It’s a bonza of a name for a hotel.’
Ma sent her a smile. ‘So do I, love, though she looks like a bit of a baggage. I’ll send Reg to buy s
ome new chains and hooks, and he can go up the ladder tomorrow and hang her back up.’ Her eyes went to Esmé. ‘Shouldn’t you be prettying yourself up for that man of yours? He’ll be here before long to take you to the flicks. You might as well take advantage of the courting while it’s going, because it stops when the honeymoon is over.’
When they all laughed it struck Esmé as peculiar that the others understood the nuances of the honeymoon – while she, who’d never experienced a relationship with a man of any physical depth, didn’t really have a clue what would be expected of her.
‘I wonder who Red Rafferty was,’ Lillian said.
‘Some old convict tart, I expect. She’s no lady, that’s for sure.’
Lillian began to laugh, and they all joined in, dancing about in a spontaneous and relaxed manner that said they were comfortable with each other.
Lillian began lumbering about, cradling her stomach with her hands. She knocked over a chair. Righting it, she seated herself.
Soon they were all out of breath. They sank on to the chairs and gazed at each other, giving sporadic spurts of giggles, though none of them knew what they were laughing at.
There was a sudden trickling sound and they gazed at each other as a small pool spread across the floor. Then their glances turned towards Lillian.
In a scared, but excited voice she told them what they already knew. ‘I think my water may have broken.’
Seventeen
It didn’t take long to change Lillian’s bedroom into the delivery room, since it had been scrubbed and disinfected a few days before.
A rubber square was laid on the mattress, followed by an old flannel sheet that had been almost boiled out of existence. Folded up, it would serve as a birthing pad.
Minnie performed the necessary preparation on the patient, like an enema, a shave and a good dose of castor oil – all designed to encourage a sanitary birth environment. Esmé lined up bowls, pads and a warm shawl made from the same flannel sheet to receive the baby. From the cellar, Ma had dug out a pair of shop scales to weigh the child on.
‘Ma’s cellar seems to be a bit of a treasure trove,’ Minnie whispered as they washed the dust from the scales, and placed a square of towelling on the metal tray for the infant’s comfort.
Minnie smiled at they tied clean white aprons around their middles. ‘I’m really looking forward to this. I love babies. When I marry . . . if I marry, I want four children of my own. What about you, Es?’
‘Two . . . perhaps three, but not straight away.’ And they would look like Leo.
They checked that all was ready. There was a wicker cradle ready to receive the child, with a mosquito netting hanging from a metal bar curving over the top.
Lillian gave a little whimper and Minnie gazed down at her. ‘Has labour started?’
Lillian nodded.
Minnie’s capable hands probed carefully over Lillian’s distended stomach, and she smiled. ‘The head’s well down. Did you have any pains before these?’
‘No . . . but my back hurt a few times when I was having my rest and I couldn’t get comfortable. Then I fell asleep and forgot about it.’
Minnie exchanged a smile with Esmé. ‘Let me know the next time you have a contraction so I can measure how strong they are. Afterwards, Esmé will swab the area so you’re nice and clean for the delivery.’
Esmé went down to fetch some hot water to add to the cold she already had. She found Leo in the sitting room sipping tea with Ma, and remembered they’d been going to the cinema to see the Hitchcock film, Thirty-Nine Steps, with Robert Donat.
She gave him a quick kiss, then took the cup from his hand and helped herself to a gulp. ‘I can’t stay, but the way things are going, I shouldn’t be too long. We might catch the late sitting.’
‘If you need me I’ll be here.’
‘It’s going to be one of the easy births, and shouldn’t take long. Minnie’s in charge and I’m the fetch and carry nurse. But thanks anyway, Leo.’
Ma’s face took on a worried expression. ‘Lil will be all right, won’t she? She’s only a kid.’
‘All the better, since she’s nice and flexible.’
‘Shouldn’t she have a doctor?’
‘Goodness, Ma, will you stop worrying. Minnie and I are qualified midwives. We’ve done this many times before, and this is going to be one of the easy ones. We have Leo to call on if a doctor is needed . . . but I promise you, he won’t be.’
Lillian was having a contraction when she went back up. A few minutes and several more contractions later, Minnie told Lillian, ‘Your contractions are strong. This baby is in a hurry and will come into the world fairly quickly. You’ll get some strong pains one of top of the other when we near the actual birth. Try to stay relaxed, so it won’t hurt so much.’
Esmé patted her hand and smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry about anything. Dr Thornton is downstairs if we should need him.’
The baby’s head began to appear fifteen minutes after Esmé had swabbed Lillian.
Lillian grunted and groaned, and worked long and hard through the constant contractions. Perspiration covered her, but she was being carried along on the surging tide of her labour pains without too much effort.
Minnie talked Lillian through it. ‘The baby has fair hair . . . and a little wrinkled forehead. Try not to push for a minute while I feel for the cord . . . good . . . I want you to turn on your side, put your foot against my shoulder and push hard with the next contraction.
Esmé acted as a brace to her friend.
There was a prolonged grunt and the baby’s head was out. A few minutes later, the infant turned and slithered into Minnie’s waiting hands. She smiled at Lillian. ‘You have a darling little girl . . . so perfect and pretty. Wally would have been proud.’
Tears prickled behind Esmé’s eyes. Although her friend’s marriage to Wally had been a mistake from the start, she knew Minnie had been upset when she’d lost her own child. It said much for Minnie that she could be so generous of heart towards this girl.
The baby was placed on Lillian’s stomach, the afterbirth delivered cleanly, and the cord cut and tied.
Handed into the waiting sheet, Esmé made sure the airway was clear and washed her little screwed-up face with cotton wool dipped in warm water. A rosebud mouth and pert turned-up nose gave her a dainty look. The infant was placed on the scales and the weights adjusted. She gave a wail and began to quiver as she stretched her arms and legs. She was a good colour, as sweet a newborn as Esmé had ever seen. ‘Six pounds and four ounces at birth.’
Esmé couldn’t see anything of Wally in the child, but it was early days yet, and she hadn’t had all that much to do with him.
Minnie took up the child and gazed at her. Her eyebrow lifted a mere fraction, signalling that she’d been looking for a similarity too, and couldn’t find it. Esmé held her breath, wondering if the straightforward Minnie would say anything.
There was a fraction of a shrug, as though her friend had reminded herself that it wasn’t mandatory that a child should resemble its father – and she didn’t really care, either way. ‘She looks like you, Lillian, though I can see a bit of Ma in her.’ She placed the child in Lillian’s arms. ‘See if you can get her to attach to your breast. Some babies need encouragement before they can suck. I’m going to look below to see if you need any stitches, so don’t jump.’
While Lillian admired her daughter, Minnie briefly examined her patient. ‘Everything seems to be in order. You did well for a first child. What a wonderful birth, four hours from start to finish, and hardly a groan.’ She gently cleansed and dried the area. ‘I wish they were all like that. Pass over those pads, please, Es. And then we’ll change the draw sheet.’
When Lillian was comfortable, Minnie asked her, ‘Have you thought of a name for your daughter? And don’t you dare suggest Red Rafferty! Her appearance has created enough excitement for one day.’
Lillian giggled, then thought for a moment before giving a big smile. ‘S
hirley, I think, after Shirley Temple, that child film star . . . and after Ma, as well. Shirley Marlene.’
‘That’s a pretty name.’ Esmé picked up the soiled sheets and the afterbirth, which was wrapped in the morning newspaper, and would be burned with the rubbish in the rusty oil drum that was used as a backyard incinerator.
A name jumped out at her. The article was short. Crime boss, John Teagan captured after an armed hold up, and faces fourteen years in jail for robbery with violence. Other charges are pending.
Esmé crooked her finger at Minnie and they moved to one side. They exchanged a smile when she read it. ‘I’ll ask Ma to tell Lillian tomorrow. I’ll go and put these sheets in to soak, and I’ll get you a cup of tea.’
Minnie took it from her hands. ‘I can see to all that . . . don’t keep Leo waiting any longer.’
She nodded. ‘Don’t wait up, Minnie, I’ve got my key.’
Minnie laughed. ‘Why don’t you do both of you a favour and stay with him all night.’
She surprised herself by saying, ‘Perhaps I will.’
Washing her face and hands she brushed her hair. She was growing it, and it rippled to her shoulders, where it terminated in loose curls. Pulling on brown slacks and drawing a long pink cardigan over a chiffon blouse, she powdered her face, applied lipstick and dabbed a little perfume behind her ears and in the hollow of her throat.
It was Coty’s Chypre. Chad had given it to her two birthdays ago, and although she’d been frugal with it, she’d shared the fragrance with Minnie, and now there was barely any left.
She hadn’t used it for some time, and the perfume brought a sharp, nostalgic moment of delight that she’d soon see her family again. Minnie had been right . . . this trip to Australia had been an adventure for both of them.
Snatching up her coat, she smiled as she heard Ma cooing over Shirley. That was going to be one spoiled baby.
They took a tram into the city and made the cinema in time, managing to get a seat in the back row, where they held hands and exchanged occasional, but increasingly passionate kisses. Towards the end of the film Leo whispered in her ear, ‘What’s that perfume you’re wearing?’