by Iris Gower
Michael went out to do his work and Hari sat uncomfortably in the kitchen watching Jessie peel vegetables. ‘Can I help?’ she asked hesitantly. Jessie shook her head.
‘No. Thanks. I’m used to doing things my own way.’ She glanced at Hari’s white hands and, unaccountably, Hari felt ashamed they were not calloused or stained yellow as Kate’s were.
‘I’m working on communications,’ she said and it sounded like an excuse though why she needed to excuse herself to anyone, least of all Jessie, defeated her. It was a relief when Meryl came bounding into the house, her shoes clattering on the wooden floor of the hall heralding her arrival as she pushed open the door and flung herself into Hari’s arms.
‘You’ve got a car!’ she said, hugging Hari frantically. ‘I didn’t know you learned to drive.’
‘I’m a quick learner.’ Hari kissed her sister’s soft cheek. ‘How’s that horrible Georgie Porgie treating you now Michael’s had a word?’
‘You’ve seen Michael?’ Meryl’s tone was guarded.
‘Briefly. When I arrived he opened the gate for me then he went off to do some work on the farm.’
Meryl relaxed. ‘Mending fences and such I suppose.’ Meryl sounded knowing though she had no idea what he was doing.
‘Go find him, Meryl love,’ Jessie said. ‘Tell him dinner will be in half an hour, make sure he washes his hands—look out for him as you always do.’ She glanced at Hari. ‘Your sister is so good with Michael, keeps him in his place she does.’ Her tone implied that Hari might be well advised to do the same.
The silence lengthened in the kitchen and then Jessie took a cloth out of a drawer and spread it like a billowing sail over the table.
‘She thinks he’s the sun, the moon and the stars.’ She looked Hari in the eye. ‘We must try not to upset her, the poor child’s had enough upset in her life to last for a very long time.’
Hari was being warned off Michael and she knew it.
‘But Meryl is only fourteen,’ she said, ‘she’ll have crushes many times before she finds the real one.’
Jessie sniffed. ‘She’s nearer fifteen now—keep up girl. And “crushes”, is that what they call it now? Well, let me tell you, Meryl is growing up fast, anyone would in this awful war. And remember, Michael is not yet eighteen, about the same age as you are but not that much older than your sister.’
Hari was silent, digesting what Jessie was saying to her. Jessie was implying that love between Meryl and Michael was not as impossible as it seemed. And yet Hari had been in Michael’s arms, felt the heat of his body heat her own. It wasn’t just lust, she knew it wasn’t.
‘What’s really wrong, Jessie?’ Directness was important.
‘I don’t want silly girls disturbing my Michael. He’s safe here on the farm with me. And with Meryl,’ she added.
‘How could I be a danger to him?’
‘I don’t want him leaving the farm, going into Swansea. He’d be noticed there, some busybody would pick up on his accent.’ She stopped abruptly.
‘Jessie, the authorities don’t know Michael is German—is that it?’
‘Just mind your own business Miss Jones, go home and leave us in peace. You know Meryl is safe down here with me, just go away, forget Michael. He’s not for you—do you understand?’ Jessie’s tone was fierce. Hari faced her.
‘That’s not for you to decide, is it?’
‘So you do have a fancy for him then?’ It was a direct challenge.
‘I don’t know what I feel, I hardly know Michael. You’re making a fuss about nothing.’
‘Am I?’ Jessie didn’t look at her. ‘Well, that’s all right then, isn’t it?’
Later, dusk was closing in over the fields when Hari walked with Meryl at her side towards the jeep. Hari hugged her, realizing Jessie was right, Meryl was filling out, growing up.
‘Bye, little sis. Be good, be careful… be safe.’ She climbed in the jeep and drove away. In the mirror she could see Meryl’s face was just a pale unfamiliar blur in the growing darkness. Suddenly she was painfully, very painfully sad.
Fourteen
The house was plain, set back from the road, away from the other small cottages. Kate took a deep breath and glanced at Doreen. ‘This is it then?’
Doreen nodded. ‘Moira knows we’re coming, she’ll be ready—it won’t take long.’
Moira was friendly. She had a cup of tea ready and a few dry-looking biscuits on a plate, spaced out to look more plentiful and resting on a neat doily. A good try considering it was wartime.
Kate’s mouth was dry and her stomach was bunched up into a tight ball as if to protect the barely formed child within her. Doreen spoke.
‘This is a serious thing, mind; slipping out a baby isn’t a picnic. I just want you to know that.’ She sighed. ‘But a lot of girls are coming to me now so you’re not alone. I’m a good midwife, I’m clean as I can be and I’ll look after you when it’s over. Your chap dead is he?’
Kate nodded. ‘I think so, he’s been reported missing, that’s all I really know.’
‘Do you care about him?’
Kate nodded miserably. She just wanted to get on with it before she screamed out her fear and revulsion at what she was about to do. She was from good Irish stock and her mammy would be horrified if she knew what Kate was doing. But then she would be equally horrified to learn Kate was having a baby in the first place.
Moira took her cup away and led the way into a little lean-to at the back of the house. There was what looked like a doctor’s examination table, long and narrow and spread with a white sheet that was spotlessly clean. A metal bowl stood at the side and a wicked-looking scalpel that glinted in the overhead gas light.
Kate got on to the table and lay back. Moira lifted her skirt and pressed her knees apart. ‘You’ll have to take your underwear off, you silly girl.’
Kate sat bolt upright. ‘I can’t go on with it.’ She scrambled down from the table, pulling her skirt into place. ‘I’m sorry to waste your time. I’ll pay you, of course.’
Moira sighed and shook her head. ‘No need, I was half expecting this. You’re just not the sort. The Good Lord only knows how you’ll manage but manage you will I’m sure.’
Moira rested her hand on Kate’s shoulder. ‘Look, let me make you a cup of tea and we can talk, perhaps that will help.’
Kate sat on the shabby, comfortable sofa in the parlour of Moira’s house and looked at the faded wallpaper. It was once grand in Regency stripes, now the stripes had faded to indistinct beige. She felt numb.
‘Want to tell me about it?’ Moira handed her a cup of tea and Kate was glad of the hot liquid pouring down her dry throat.
‘Same old thing—fell in love, let him have his way—when I fell for the baby it was all too late.’ Suddenly she felt the urge to confess.
‘He wasn’t the first. I thought I was helping the boys face the thought of war and death but all I was doing was getting myself a bad reputation. When Eddie, my boyfriend, found out, he lost all his faith in me and do you wonder?’
‘It will never change. I expect when women got the vote they thought the world would be theirs, that they would be equal to men in all ways, but though a man will take a woman with very little thought for her reputation, when he marries, the hypocrite wants a virgin.’
Kate knew Eddie wasn’t like that. He had loved her, he had respected her, what would he think of what she was doing now? At last, beaten, she left the midwife’s house.
When she met Doreen outside, she shook her head. ‘I didn’t have it done, I couldn’t.’
‘Oh, Kate—’ Doreen sounded exasperated—‘you’ve done me out of a few bob now!’
Kate looked at her hard. ‘So to be sure it wasn’t concern and friendship that you offered me then, just a way to make an extra bit of money. I knew Moira gave you a few bob but I didn’t realize that’s the only reason you helped me. Thanks a million.’ She forced back the tears. ‘I thought you were quick off the mark realizing I
was expecting a baby, trained to it now I expect.’
She walked away from Doreen, her eyes running with tears, could she trust no one to be a real friend? There was Hari of course but could she tell even Hari what she nearly did to her baby?
She didn’t sleep that night and she got up for work on Monday heavy-eyed and with a pounding headache. Mammy didn’t notice. She pushed a breakfast of bacon and eggs under Kate’s nose and got on with the business of making a pot of tea.
Even the tea tasted off. Kate hated being pregnant, she would never do it again so long as she lived. How she was going to cope in the coming months when it was all showing and she grew fatter and fatter she had no idea. No doubt Mammy would throw her out for the shame of it.
‘I’m late.’ She pushed her food away. ‘I’m going to have to run for the bus, Mammy. See you later,’
‘Not eating, all right are you?’
For a moment Kate thought of telling her the truth and getting it all over and done with but her courage failed her. ‘Just a bit too much to drink last night, Mammy, I’ll be all right. I’ll get something in work.’
She met Hari on the bus and sank beside her with a sigh of relief. The feeling of nausea was still with her but at least it was better now that the smell of greasy food was out from under her nose.
Hari was leafing through some papers. ‘What’s that—another letter from your dear little sister?’
‘It’s a love letter.’ Hari spoke in a tone that was so matter-of-fact that Kate almost thought it was a joke. Then she saw the sprawled signature.
‘Who is Michael?’ she asked, bewildered. She’d never heard of any Michael, not among their crowd.
‘He’s the son of the woman who owns the farm where Meryl is staying. Meryl hints he’s got German blood but his mother’s as British as we are so I suppose he’s allowed to stay. In any case, Jessie needs Michael on the farm. It’s war work, isn’t it?’
‘You’re keen on him?’
‘I don’t really know.’
‘Is he gorgeous?’
‘He’s very gorgeous.’ Hari’s cheeks were pinker than usual behind her fall of long red hair.
‘You do like him.’
‘I suppose I do.’
‘Well, don’t let him anywhere near you.’ Kate’s voice was rueful and she knew it and knew what Hari would read from it. She did.
‘What are you going to do about it, Kate?’
Kate shrugged. ‘I just don’t know Hari, live with it I expect.’
At the gates to the sheds Hari hugged Kate and then held her at arm’s length. ‘You look too small and frail for all this and you shouldn’t be carrying buckets of powder or anything else in your condition. I’m going to see if I can get you a transfer to the canteen or something.’
‘They’d want to know why,’ Kate said softly. ‘Don’t feel you have to interfere, Hari. I know it’s well meant but I’ll handle everything myself.’
After a moment Hari nodded. ‘OK then, I’d best get off—I’ve got loads of work to do.’
Kate watched her go and she suddenly had an empty feeling deep in her gut. What if something dreadful happened and she never saw her friend again? She shrugged the feeling away, she was depressed that’s all.
She went into her designated shed and as soon as she crossed the threshold Doreen sniffed and turned her back and some of the other girls eyed Kate curiously. It was obvious they all had been told of her condition.
Some of them were kind and did a lot of the carrying instead of her but then, in the afternoon, Doreen put her foot down. ‘Let her fetch her own buckets. She’s got to pull her weight, we can’t carry her for evermore! If she’d been seen to by my friend we’d all help for a couple of days but as far as I’m concerned I did my best, gave up my time and went with her to the midwife and then she chucks it back in my face, wasting everyone’s time.’
‘I’ll do it for you, Kate.’ Little Janey Smith smiled at her and Kate shook her head.
‘It’s all right, as Doreen says, I must pull my weight.’
‘Come on then, I’ll come with you. At least I can help you.’
The two girls set out across the misty ground. The fog was heavy, obscuring the buildings, and appeared like a diaphanous blanket draped across the chimneys of the main buildings, before seeping wetly between walls. She could hear Bob coughing and the grate of the shells across the floor as he stacked them. She heard soft masculine voices, the mumble of conversation. Everything was eerie, unreal.
Kate suddenly felt the hair on her neck rise, something awful was going to happen. She just knew it; her fears were coming true. She hesitated, her footsteps faltered. She felt a sudden blast, hot and searing, lifting her off her feet. She twirled through the air and then she hit the boards of the walkway with a heavy thump.
A roaring noise and sudden, leaping flames filled the air. She felt the heat as suddenly Bob’s shed was a mass of fire and rolling smoke leaping upwards, tearing aside the mist. She rolled off the boards and lay in the earth, smelling it, feeling the dampness beneath her cheek; bits like black snow were falling on her.
She turned her head with an effort and saw Janey. She looked odd: her legs were several yards away from her body, her stocking rumpled around thin ankles. Janey’s dress and overall had gone, her washed-out knickers were on full view and Kate had an insane desire to cover her friend and make her decent. There was a sudden flash as another explosion rent the air. For a moment she blacked out.
And then she felt the ooze of blood between her own legs. She knew that the life of her baby, as well as her own, was slipping away. She rested her head and closed her eyes. Perhaps it was all for the best.
‘See you soon, if God wills it, Eddie,’ she said, as a deep dark blackness clouded her eyes.
Fifteen
When Kate opened her eyes, it was dark. She was surprised that she was still alive; last thing she remembered was noise, flames, lying in the earth with Janey’s mutilated body beside her. Now, she could tell, she was on a soft bed with iron sides. She listened to the sounds around her and realized she must be in hospital. The clink of tea cups, the swish of water in a bowl, the smell of carbolic soap disinfectant being mopped around her bed—all the sounds of morning. Soft sunlight bathed her face but she could see nothing but darkness. She sat up.
‘I’m blind.’
There came the slip-slap of shoes against the floor; gentle hands easing her back on to the pillow; the creak of the bed; a depression in the mattress; and the rustle of starched apron as a nurse sat beside her.
‘You’ve been in a bad accident.’ A hand brushed the hair from her brow. ‘You’ve been in hospital for more than two weeks but you’re on the mend, don’t worry. Rest now, you need to recover your strength.’
Kate felt her stomach; it was bandaged. She knew there were scars underneath the rough wrappings. Her baby must have been torn out of her by the explosion, leaving God knows what damage to her body?
‘Bob? Janey?’
‘No one in the vicinity of the sheds survived except you.’ The soft voice was sympathetic but with a note of reproach as if she should be happy she was spared. ‘As I said, you must try and rest now.’ The bed creaked and lightened, the footsteps went away and Kate was alone again in the darkness.
She felt her body, curled her legs to touch her feet, everything seemed to be intact. She thought again of Janey, lying there without her legs, her knickers exposed for anyone to see and tears burned her sightless eyes. She tried to turn on her side but something was in her arm, pulling her, and she realized she must be on a drip of some kind. Blood? Fluid? She fell back against the pillow and a merciful oblivion claimed her as she sank into the bed as if into the softness of a cloud and slept.
‘Kate, my poor lovely girl.’ A hand was holding hers, a masculine hand. The voice was familiar, from the distant past, someone gone from her life, gone from this world.
‘Kate, talk to me, tell me you’re all right.’
I
t sounded like Eddie, smelled like Eddie. She raised her hand and made contact with a shoulder, a shoulder dressed in rough cloth, the cloth of an army tunic.
‘Eddie, is that you?’ She heard the incredulity in her own voice and then his lips were against hers. Her heart filled with gladness. ‘Eddie, you’ve come back from the war, you didn’t die in some foreign, muddy place after all.’
His arms were around her and she winced. She was released and eased back against the pillows.
‘Sorry, sorry my darling. I know it hurts like hell just now but they tell me you’re going to be all right.’
‘What about my eyes, Eddie, will I see again?’
He didn’t answer directly. ‘Give it time, my lovely girl, you’re alive and for now nothing else matters. I’m going to look after you.’
So he meant to stay with her, to forgive her. She felt warm and suddenly safe and very happy.
‘Where’s my mammy, why isn’t she here Eddie?’ The silence lengthened and she knew. ‘She’s hurt, dead?’
‘There was an air raid a few nights ago, the house was bombed. I’m sorry, Kate, so sorry.’
‘All of them?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hold me, Eddie, hold me, please.’
He held her gently while she cried. Mammy, the children, her home, all gone to a German bomber and she, lying in hospital, hurt by shell meant for the enemy.
‘Why are there wars, Eddie?’
He kissed her brow. ‘If I could answer that I’d be the world’s greatest philosopher.’
‘Will you have to go away again, back to the war, I mean?’
‘Yes, I’ll have to go back and fight, my love, but we’ll be married once you’re better. In the meantime you can stay with my mother while I’m away, she’s promised to look after you for me. Do you want me, Kate?’
A rush of love washed over her; pain, blackness—it was all as nothing because Eddie was here and he loved her. ‘Of course I want you, Eddie, my love.’