Live the Dream

by Claire Lorrimer

  Una’s face brightened as she said, ‘I’ll ask my aunts. They take in stray cats so maybe they’d have him.’

  The telephone started ringing and the day became very busy as it always was. By six o’clock, when the last person left, both Una and James were exhausted.

  ‘Would you like to come next door for a reviver?’ he asked her.

  Reluctantly, Una shook her head. ‘I’d love to but I must get back,’ she said. ‘Poor Dilys will have been alone all day and if I’m quick I might be able to catch the six-twenty train.’

  ‘Nonsense! I’ll run you back in the car!’ James said, ‘And don’t argue,’ he added with a smile. ‘It’s been a very busy day and you look shattered!’

  As James’ Morris estate car had room for animals to be safely transported in the back when necessary, he apologised for the doggy odour as he turned on to the main road leading to Hannington. He remained silent while, haltingly, Una confided in him about Dilys’ predicament.

  ‘I see why it isn’t possible for Dilys to keep the baby,’ she concluded, ‘but she’s absolutely determined to do so. Even if you increased my salary now I’m doing Dilys’ work as well as my own, I don’t think—’

  She got no further before James interrupted: ‘Una, the pair of you are still underage and you’ve never had to fend for yourselves,’ he said. ‘I’ve no doubt that your parents have always dealt with your expenses and neither of you have the slightest idea what living on your own would entail.’ He glanced briefly at the young girl beside him. ‘Una, I know you want to help your sister but unless your parents permitted her to remain at home I can see no way she can keep the baby.’

  Seeing the expression on Una’s face, he added: ‘Is there no chance your parents might relent? Or a relative, perhaps, who might consider—’

  ‘No, James!’ Una broke in. ‘There are only Mother’s older sisters, the aunts,’ Una interrupted. ‘They never married and I dare say they’d love to have Dilys staying with them, but not – absolutely not – with an illegitimate baby. They are very Victorian, churchy, and … No, there’s no one else. Father was an only child so we don’t have relations on his side of the family.’

  James turned the car into the gravel driveway leading up to the big Georgian manor house and tried not to let his voice sound too negative as he drew to a halt and said goodbye to Una.

  ‘Try not to worry! Between us we might be able to think of something!’ he said vaguely. ‘Give Dilys my best wishes and tell her … tell her to read that poem called “Despair” written by that poet in the trenches in the last war. The last line says “Even the darkest night is followed by the light of next day’s dawn”.’

  Una repeated it that evening when she and Dilys had gone to bed and were lying in the darkness.

  Dilys was silent for a moment and then said, ‘I suppose James must have found that comforting when his wife and child were killed.’ Then she added sleepily: ‘But no one is going to take my baby away … no one, ever.’ And before Una could comment, she drifted into sleep.

  SEVEN

  Dilys awoke early the following Wednesday morning, the day her mother had resolved to take her to meet the matron of The Willows. Late last night, determined as ever that she would never allow her baby to be taken away from her, she had decided to lock herself in her bedroom and to remain there until her parents relented and agreed to some other solution.

  Surely, she’d told herself, she could be hidden far away in a cottage and be given enough money to support herself and her child. She could live under another name so she would not bring any disgrace on them.

  It was a wild idea, Una had told her. It was not beyond their father to have the bedroom door broken down, she had pointed out, and in any case Dilys would have to open it herself as she’d need help when the baby was born. Meanwhile, if she didn’t go down for meals and food wasn’t brought to her, she would starve as well as her unborn child.

  When the alarm clock sounded at seven thirty to alert Una to wake up and prepare to go to work, she got out of bed and stood looking down at her twin. She was surprised to see Dilys too, was awake and seemingly perfectly calm.

  ‘I’ve decided what I’m going to do,’ Dilys said. ‘I’ll let Mother take me to that place and I’ll stay there and have the baby, but as soon as it’s born I’ll go before they can take it away from me. You’ll help me, won’t you, Una? I’ve got it all planned. You can meet me in a taxi somewhere close by, drive me to the station and I’ll catch a train to Cornwall and go to one of those little seaside guesthouses we saw that summer holiday in Newquay. I’ll need money, but I have almost thirty pounds in my post-office savings account, and you’ll lend me yours, won’t you, Una? No one but you will know where I am, and if I can stay hidden until our twenty-first birthday, Father won’t be able to make me give my baby away.’

  When finally she stopped talking, Una’s mind was working furiously. It was a solution, but only a temporary one, she thought as, shivering in the cold bedroom, she hurried into her clothes. Of course she would give Dil her savings and, in due course, she would send her the weekly salary James paid her, but how long would that last? And how would Dil manage to look after a newborn baby? Maybe there was a book with instructions she could buy for her, but there would be no one there to support her.

  Una was close to tears as she kissed her twin goodbye before going downstairs to breakfast. In all the eighteen years of their lives, they had never spent a night apart. Now, suddenly, in a few days’ time they were to be separated: Dilys would be at the mother-and-baby home until her baby was born, and would then go to Cornwall, if she stuck to her plan. For the first time in her life, Una’s self-confidence vanished and she felt very young and unsure of herself; unsure whether she was about to assist her twin in heading for certain disaster. She badly needed someone to give Dilys safe advice on how to deal with her predicament. Suddenly, she knew exactly who could do so – James. He was always calm, level-headed and understanding of people’s feelings. Her mind made up, she could not wait to get to the veterinary surgery and confide in him.

  As Una reached the railway station, she heard the paperboy shouting out the day’s headline: ‘British and French troops land in Norway.’ She just had time to buy a paper and read that British troops had been sent to assist the brave Norwegians who were desperately trying to resist the German occupation of their country. Her thoughts went immediately to Dilys’ Norwegian boyfriend, the father of her baby. Almost certainly he would be in the thick of the fighting, perhaps even dead. When she had got to know him in Munich, he had seemed such a likeable, genuine person that she had understood Dilys’ shock when their father had informed her that Kristoffer was engaged to another girl.

  As always at the surgery, they were extremely busy. James’ competence and affinity with the animals ensured he was never short of clients. There was no opportunity, therefore, for Una to have a private conversation with him until he had closed the surgery at the end of the day.

  Una declined his offer of a restorative drink again but gratefully accepted his offer to drive her home. If Dilys had been taken to the mother-and-baby home Una was anxious to hear from her mother that her twin had not been too distraught.

  In the course of her employment, Una had become perfectly at ease in James’ company, and in the darkness of the interior of his car as he drove her home she told him of her sister’s plan to escape to Cornwall with her baby when it was born. James heard her out without interrupting. When Una concluded by asking his opinion, he was silent for a few minutes while he tried to put himself into her parents’ shoes. At the same time, he empathized with the young girl who wanted, bravely, to keep her baby.

  Keeping his voice steady, he said to Una, ‘I admire Dilys’ courage, but I fear her solution would only be a temporary one. Your parents are not going to allow their young daughter to disappear into thin air. If your father did not wish the police to know about his private affairs, he would most probably have her found by a pri
vate detective. I’m afraid Dilys could not stop them removing the baby, which would be even more painful for her than if it was taken away at birth.’

  Una listened to him in shocked silence before saying, ‘So you think she will have to let it be adopted?’

  It was a moment or two before James replied. Then he said quietly, ‘I’m afraid so. Lawfully, she is still a minor.’ He paused for a minute, and then suddenly his heart started racing. He cleared his throat and then heard himself saying quietly: ‘Unless …’ He then said hesitantly, ‘Unless she was married.’

  At first Una was too astonished to comment, and then, finding her voice, she said, ‘But James, that’s crazy! How could she be married? Who would marry a girl about to have another man’s baby? I can’t believe you said that. Were you joking?’

  James drove on a short distance and then pulled up on the grass verge in front of a farm gate. Switching off the engine, he turned to look at the young girl by his side and said quietly, ‘No. I wasn’t joking. If Dilys was willing, I would marry her. If it was possible for us to be married quickly, her baby would not be illegitimate, and she and the child could be part of your family again.’

  Una was effectively silenced by James’ astonishing proposal. After a few minutes she said naively: ‘But you don’t love each other and … and you’re miles older than Dil and … and I can see it would solve all Dil’s problems, but why …’

  ‘But why would I want to saddle myself with a wife and another man’s child? Does sound crazy, doesn’t it? But …’ He paused, his eyes thoughtful and, after a moment, said quietly, ‘The idea only just occurred to me, Una, but now … As you said, it would not be a love match but I would take care of Dilys and her baby. As for myself … well, there are several reasons which must have prompted my proposal. It’s been pretty lonely living alone for the past six years. After my wife and boy died, I never wanted to marry again. I can’t explain it but I felt if I did so I’d feel as if I was being unfaithful to Margaret’s memory.’ He paused again before saying, ‘This … well, it would be different. I mean, we wouldn’t live as man and wife. Dilys could have her own room and we … we would just be friends; keep each other company on those long, dark winter evenings.’

  He turned suddenly and smiled at Una. ‘Maybe Dilys would learn to keep house for me. As you know, my daily housekeeper, Mrs White, does the cleaning but she is also a good cook. She could teach Dilys; help her with the baby. The main thing is, Una, Dilys could keep the baby. I really loved doing things for my little boy. I love small children much the same way as I love all the animals who come to me for help. What do you think, Una? Would Dilys want to take this way out of her predicament? Do you think your parents would agree? I’d ask their permission first, of course.’

  Yet again, Una was lost for words. The way James had put his spur-of-the-moment idea sounded plausible, but would it – could it – work? Was Dil so desperate to keep her baby that she would marry a man who was not that far short of being a stranger? A man so much older than herself? A man who was not her lost love, Kristoffer? A man she didn’t love?

  Much as Una liked James, and she really did, she herself wouldn’t want to marry him, or any man, come to that. She wanted to have fun – the kind of fun she and Dil had enjoyed in Munich. Even though there was now a war on, people were still having fun. In London, tea dances and parties continued to take place as before. Theatres, concert halls and cinemas all remained open. According to their mother, London was full of servicemen and women in uniform. Had it not been for poor Dil’s problems, she would have loved to accept an old school friend’s recent invitation to stay with her and her family in Chelsea and go partying with her.

  She badly wanted to see Gone With the Wind, the film everyone was talking about, and dance to Joe Loss at the Savoy. It seemed such a long time ago since they had danced in Munich last summer.

  If Dil did decide to accept James’ astonishing offer to marry her and legitimize her baby, she would be stuck in Fenbury, whereas if she had the baby adopted they could both go up to London, get jobs and join in the war effort. Dil would meet lots of new young men and forget all about her Kristoffer and the baby.

  ‘It’s enormously kind of you to suggest this James!’ she said now to him, realizing as she did so that she sounded as if she were referring to a visit to a cinema or day at the races. ‘Would you like me to ask her how she feels about it when I get home? Mother plans to take her to that Home to stay the day after tomorrow, although last night Dil said she was going to lock herself in her room and refuse to go.’

  James cleared his throat. ‘As you told me earlier that your father has gone back to London I will have to wait until he returns to ask his permission to marry Dilys, so perhaps it would be best for now if she goes to the Home. I will apply for a special licence so if the marriage can take place, it can do so before Dilys’ baby is born. I’m not sure how long it takes to obtain a licence but I suspect it might be a week or so, after which it would be necessary to book a date at the town hall.’ He broke off and after a moment’s thought, added: ‘Tomorrow, Una, if Dilys agrees to the marriage, can you make sure I am free of appointments so I have a time to make those enquiries?’

  An hour later, having listened to her mother’s furious account of Dilys’ locked bedroom door, Una was permitted to go upstairs to ‘knock some sense’ into her sister and to warn her that if she did not open it the next day a locksmith would be called to do it. She found Dilys sitting by the window with a tray of half-eaten food which the maid had left outside the door on her lap. Una removed it, telling her sister that even if she wasn’t hungry she ought to eat properly for the baby’s sake. She then sat down beside Dilys and, putting a comforting arm round her shoulders, told her of James’ astonishing offer.

  Dilys’ immediate comment was that she couldn’t possibly marry James, kind as his suggestion was, because she still loved Kristoffer despite what her father had told her about the Norwegian girl he was engaged to. ‘Even though he has stopped loving me,’ she said in a shaky voice, ‘I’m having his baby, Una. Of course I can’t be anyone else’s wife.’

  ‘Dil, he isn’t expecting you to be a real wife,’ Una explained, and related the scenario that James had outlined. ‘I mean, if you have your own bedroom, he can’t be expecting to sleep with you, can he? I think he’s just lonely and thinks it would be nice if you and the baby were there.’ Seeing the doubtful look on her twin’s face, she sighed. ‘Maybe Father is right, Dil, and in the long run it would be best to let other parents have the baby, then you would be free to come up to London with me and we’d have loads of fun together. We could …’

  She got no further before Dilys said in a harsh tone, ‘No! I’ll marry James if I have to but I’m going to keep my baby, Una. Just so long as he knows I can’t be a proper wife to him then I’ll do my very best to … to make it up to him for the help he’s giving me.’ She gave Una a quick hug. ‘I’d miss you terribly if I went to live with him. I don’t know what it would be like living without you. Oh, Una, how can I have got myself into this mess? Even if I do agree to marry James, suppose Father won’t give his consent and …’

  ‘He will!’ Una interrupted her. ‘You know what he’s like, Dil! He’s always on about his reputation, “the family good name” and all that. I sometimes think his wretched career and his constituents are more important to him than we are. He’ll be only too pleased to have it all solved. That’s why he arranged for you to go to that Home so you could get the baby adopted. Who knows, he might even end up liking having a grandchild if he can talk about his married daughter. As for Mother, she won’t mind if Father has agreed to it.’

  Two days later, Lady Singleby drove her silent, white-faced daughter to The Willows Home for Mothers and Babies owned and run by the matron, Mrs Marshall, an efficient, stern-looking woman in her fifties who was accustomed to dealing discreetly – and expensively – with girls from the upper classes. It was on her discovery that unwanted babies were ver
y far from being the prerogative of the lower classes that she had purchased The Willows, furnished it expensively and quickly attracted the parents of daughters who had got into trouble.

  Following the success of the Home, Mrs Marshall had added an annexe with a few private suites for the occasional society wife who did not want her husband to know the baby she was having was not his. Whatever the circumstances, she could be relied upon – and she charged – for her discretion.

  Lady Singleby drew to a halt in the drive outside the front door of The Willows. Looking at Dilys’ white, apprehensive face, she felt a rare maternal compassion for her delinquent daughter. She had left the problem of the girl’s disgrace to her husband to deal with – in fact, she had had no chance to do otherwise – and had agreed that Dilys should be sent away to have her shameful baby discreetly delivered and adopted. Despite her concurrence, she had nevertheless been a little shocked by Dilys’ adamant refusal to accept her father’s solution and her determination to keep her illegitimate child and raise it herself … protestations she had not dared repeat to her husband.

  Now, somewhat to her surprise, Dilys had suddenly stopped her hysterical responses and agreed to go quietly with her today to The Willows. Worried lest she should suddenly change her mind, Lady Singleby rang the doorbell and when the door was opened she hurriedly handed Dilys over to the matron’s care. Having pecked her daughter on the cheek, she bade her goodbye and made her way back to her car.

  Dilys allowed herself to be shown to a pleasant private bedroom where she was left to unpack and ‘have a little rest’ before going downstairs to tea where, Mrs Marshall told her, she would meet some other young ‘patients’, as she called the six other pregnant girls.