Beth appeared to be preoccupied herself and padded out of the room without another word.
*
In her own room, Beth prepared to open the note she had found in her pigeonhole when she’d gone downstairs to light the fire and make the tea before Mrs Duffy arrived. The front of the envelope was handwritten and she had traced the individual letters with the tips of her fingers as she waited for the kettle to boil. She now laid the tea tray down on her bedside table, drew back the curtains and allowed repeated thrills of excitement to run through her body as she teased herself, prolonging the moment when she would discover the sender’s name. She studied the handwriting. It was wide and bold.
Snuggling back under her covers, she knew exactly who it was from. She sipped her tea and made herself wait a little longer. This was the normal Beth. The Beth in complete control, not the Beth who had danced with fire, twice.
Unable to bear it a moment longer, she tore open the envelope. Her heart beat faster at the pleasure of reading the words, which almost jumped out at her. She clasped her hand over her mouth to prevent a squeal of excitement from escaping.
You have driven me mad, ignoring me in this way. Why are you doing this? Can we please at least talk, or what am I supposed to do? I can hardly barge into theatre and ask you for a date in front of Sister Pokey, can I?
I will wait for you at the bottom corner table in the Lyons Tea Rooms this afternoon. I have seen the off-duty on the wall of the office in theatre and I know you are not on call today. I will be there at 1 p.m. The table is discreet. I only want to talk to you, nothing more. It is up to you. What can you lose? The worst that can happen is that you have a jolly good lunch...
Beth had been invited to Maisie Tanner’s for Sunday lunch, along with the others. As Pammy Tanner was the only nurse resident at Lovely Lane who lived in Liverpool, this was a regular occurrence. All the other resident nurses were working on the wards and would eat at the greasy spoon, otherwise they would have been invited to Maisie’s too. They always returned to Lovely Lane with a new tin of goodies to share. Beth was enjoying having Sundays off. Sunday was not a routine operating-list day and theatre was only used for emergencies, so there was a skeleton staff. A consultant in St Angelus on a Sunday was a rare sight.
She would have to make an excuse to Pammy, Victoria and Dana, because there was one thing she knew for sure, nothing would keep her from going on this date. It was far too tempting, the chance to give the big man a bit of a put-down. Nothing would come of it, she knew that. Most certainly not. She would enjoy his company and hear what he had to say and yes, to him it probably would be a jolly good lunch, but he had never eaten at the Tanners’ house, had he? And when the lunch was over, she would leave him in no doubt that she would never be a notch on his bedpost. She would not be the next in a long line of nurses to be pitied or laughed at. Pammy Tanner was on his list of hearts broken and she had never forgiven him, and then there were the rumours about the hapless Nurse Moran, which were just dreadful. He was a brute who was used to getting his own way and should be ashamed of himself. Beth should be disgusted with herself for even having allowed him to kiss her. What was she thinking, condoning his actions by agreeing to meet him?
And there was Pammy to consider. If Pammy were to ever find out she had even contemplated meeting him for lunch, she would lose her as a friend for ever. When it came to a choice between a man or a friend, the friend must surely win. A man could leave her at any time, for another woman, but Pammy would be her true friend for all of her life. A friend never left.
Nonetheless, as much as Beth tried to erase Oliver Gaskell’s kisses from her mind, she couldn’t stop herself from reliving the delicious sensations he had stirred within her. As she lay back on her pillow and sipped her tea out of her old country roses cup and saucer, two thoughts crossed her mind: that it was the best cup of tea she had ever tasted and that she would be safe to meet him, because unlike all the other nurses, she most certainly had her heart firmly under control.
*
‘I feel so bad having to leave Teddy,’ said Dana as she, Pammy and Victoria marched along the street towards the Tanners’ house.
‘Well, you didn’t have to,’ said Pammy. ‘He was invited as well.’
‘I know, but he is such a bear with a sore head, he knows he would be terrible company. And besides, he would never have agreed to being pushed down the street in a wheelchair.’
‘I swear to God, Dana, you are a saint. Don’t you think so, Victoria? Seeing as you’ve known Teddy since he was a child.’
Victoria raised her pale face and looked confused. Every step was an effort for her, but she didn’t want them to know. ‘Think what?’ she asked.
‘Don’t you think Dana is a saint?’
‘Oh, I do,’ she replied, without knowing why.
‘Well, as I am on nights soon, I may see a bit more of him,’ Dana said. ‘Anthony said it will be easier to slip me into the res once it’s dark. I’m floating between casualty and theatre.’
Pammy looked shocked. ‘As long as my Anthony doesn’t expect me to go sneaking into the doctors’ res, my mam would kill me if she knew that.’
‘Oh, I’m only going to visit on my way to work, for a chat. None of us are quite as sophisticated as Victoria and her wanton woman’s ways.’
They all laughed and even Victoria joined in.
‘Fancy poor Beth getting called into the hospital like that. She is always too obliging. I mean, I know she said she got a note from Matron, but don’t you find that a bit odd, Matron writing to her?’
‘She must have got one of the lads to deliver it early this morning.’ Victoria linked arms with Pammy. ‘The envelope was on the tray when Beth brought me my tea.’
‘Well, get her,’ said Pammy, with a tinge of jealousy in her voice.
As they opened the back gate to the Tanners’ house and stepped into the yard, Dana and Victoria felt as though they had arrived home almost as much as Pammy did, so familiar were the surroundings and so warm the welcome.
‘Come on in, come in,’ shouted Maisie from the kitchen. ‘Stan, the girls are here. Little Stanley, have you set the table? Lorraine, where are you? Hello, girls, hello.’ She came to the back door and hugged each of the girls as they stepped through. ‘Our Stan’s just carving the meat, working up an appetite, he says, he’s been desperate for you to arrive. Poor Beth having to work. I want you to take her a roast back in a pudding dish, I will tie it up in a tea towel. Pop it in a pan of hot water for her or in the oven. Keep it warm for when she gets in, poor love.’
Before the girls could answer, they were commandeered by the Tanner children, who bombarded them with questions. Victoria slipped into the parlour and, hoping no one would notice, sat on a chair to catch her breath.
Not two minutes later, Maisie walked into the room carrying a jug of apple sauce. ‘Oh, Vic, are you all right, love? You don’t look well.’
‘I’m fine, thanks, just a bit under the weather. That smells delicious. I’m just checking on the table, I usually like to do it with little Stan, don’t want him to think I’m shirking.’
‘How long have you been feeling like that?’ asked Maisie. ‘Have you seen a doctor?’
‘Oh, no…’ Victoria had to stop for a second as she swallowed down excess saliva. Composed, she tried again. ‘I don’t need to see a doctor, it will pass.’
Ten minutes later, big Stan was standing waiting to relieve Maisie of a hot tray of roast potatoes and carry it into the parlour. ‘Think our Victoria has got a bit of a cold, love, she doesn’t seem too good to me,’ he said.
‘Really.’ Maisie placed the tray in his hands. ‘Well, I’ll tell you what, that cold will have a name soon.’
Stanley looked directly at his wife. He knew that tone and it was not one to ignore. ‘Is that so, love? What will that name be then?’
‘Well…’ Maisie poured the gravy from the meat tin into the gravy jug. ‘That all depends, Stan, on whether it’s a girl or a boy.’
‘You know what, Stan, you really are a useless article. How many kids do we have? Of course I’m sure, and this means trouble for Victoria.’
‘Are you going to tell her?’ Stan, shocked as he was, knew better than to disagree with Maisie. If she was telling him Victoria was pregnant, then she was, even if she didn’t know it herself.
‘Me? Well, I think I might have to because there is one thing I do know, that kid, she hasn’t got a clue. She may have a suit of armour stood in her hallway and a coat of arms to her name, she may have big paintings and portraits of members of her family going back to the ark, but she has no mother to guide her and it’s going to come as a shock to her when I tell her she’s in the family way. It’s such a shame she hasn’t got a decent family. I hope if her mam is looking down on us, she’ll think I have done a good job for her if I do tell her. Mind, if I was the one looking after her, she wouldn’t be pregnant in the first place. And that Roland, such an accomplished young man, him inheriting his own solicitor’s firm and everything. He won’t have a clue either.’
Maisie set the meat tin back on the range and wiped her fingers on her apron. ‘These kids, they are all for the modern world, but not one of them has any thought for the danger or the consequences. Father Brennan was on about it in his sermon this morning and you, Stan, you would know that if you had been awake and listening. I just hope our Pammy was taking note. And did you see the way that Paddy Delaney walked into church with Noleen? Wasn’t that just great? The things they can do today. I mean, I know it’s a false leg, but at least he can get about.’
As she finished speaking, the kitchen door flew open and Lorraine burst into the room. ‘Mam, our Pammy says have you got Nana’s smelling salts, it’s Victoria, she’s fainted.’
*
Beth left the nurses’ home through the front door in her uniform and cape. The other girls had already set off for Maisie Tanner’s. She shouted, ‘See you tomorrow, Mrs Duffy,’ and then hid around the back near the bins until the coast was clear. When Mrs Duffy had no new probationers to fuss over, she always took Sunday afternoons off. Beth knew she had already prepared a cold supper and left it in the fridge, just in case one of the nurses working on the wards didn’t have time for lunch, which was not a rare occurrence. She had also left a plate of fairy cakes filled with butter-cream and dusted with icing sugar hidden under a tea towel in the middle of the table. The nurses always loved it when they arrived home to find that she’d baked them a special treat. With all her chores completed, Mrs Duffy soon made her way down the road towards the bus stop. Beth sneaked back into the nurses’ home and quickly changed out of her uniform.
She arrived at the Lyons Tea Rooms ten minutes late; she’d timed it exactly. Once she reached the door, she decided she would wait even longer, so she walked back up the road and down again. Her stomach was fluttering, her mouth was dry and she had no idea why she was there. She had hated lying to her friends, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. Seagulls screeched their warning overhead as she turned away from the door for a second time, but it was no use. Wild horses could have charged down Mount Pleasant in an attempt to drag her away, but in her heart she knew she would have fought them off. Oliver Gaskell had played with her mind and she had played with his. All that mattered now was the next step and who would surface from this afternoon the winner. As she battled with her emotions and the rising thrill of expectation, she knew that if she was to keep the respect of her friends, it would have to be her. At all costs, she had to win.
*
When Victoria opened her eyes, she was lying on the brown studded leather sofa in the Tanners’ parlour. Pammy was sitting next to her, holding her hand and taking her pulse, and Maisie hovered over her, looking more than a little concerned.
‘Well, hello,’ said Pammy. ‘You have decided to join us.’ She smiled at Victoria as she laid her wrist down on the crocheted knee blanket she had placed over her.
Maisie took her cigarettes out of her pocket and lit up. As she exhaled, she said, ‘Would you look at me, me hand’s shaking. Me nerves are shot. Honestly, Victoria, between you and Finn Delaney, fainting is becoming quite the thing on this street. You haven’t passed the eleven-plus or anything, have you, and forgot to tell us?’
As she spoke, Anthony came into the room, removing his coat and hat as he walked. Under Maisie’s instructions, big Stan had stood at the end of the entry to meet him and have a quiet word in his ear. Big Stan had spoken quickly because racing up behind had come little Stan, gabbling out the drama. He had run alongside Anthony all the way to the house and was still beside him as he entered the parlour, both arms outstretched, catching the doctor’s garments as he went.
The lad’s face dropped now as his mam said firmly, ‘Little Stanley, get back in the kitchen with me,’ and grabbed his collar. Before she led him out, he stole a look at Victoria as she lay on the sofa. The beautiful Victoria, whom he adored in the manner of a puppy.
The fire was roaring up the chimney and had made the room too hot. ‘Can you open the window, Anthony?’ Pammy asked in almost a whisper as she placed the back of her hand on Victoria’s brow and moved the crocheted blanket down.
Anthony did as he was asked and then with an expression of grave concern took in Victoria’s pallor, her grey, watery eyes and her general lack of sparkle. He had only known her for a few months, but she was a bright, clever, fizzy personality and it was clear that something must be very wrong to have laid her so low.
He placed a kiss on the top of Pammy’s head and for the briefest second inhaled the scent of her. With every day that passed, he loved her more. One day soon, he was going to have to tell her how much he loved her and wanted her to be his wife. He hoped that she felt the same way, because if she didn’t, he had no idea what he would do. They had not been together as a couple for very long and yet the thought of life without his practical, cheeky Pammy was almost too much to imagine. He could barely remember anything of his life before she and her madcap family had taken him into their home and hearts.
‘Pammy, could you fetch me a cup of tea and maybe one for Victoria, with some sugar in. The last cuppa I had was at nine this morning. If I don’t get one soon, I might have to ask Victoria to shove over and make room for me on there.’ He grinned and nodded towards the sofa.
Pammy looked up at him and her heart instantly melted. He could have asked her for the moon and she would have tried her best to net it. ‘On my way,’ she said as she sprang up.
Anthony immediately sat down in her place.
‘Have I ruined the dinner?’ Victoria turned her face towards Pammy.
Holding on to the brass doorknob, Pammy swivelled back round. ‘Have you hell. The kids are made up. They are all sat around the fire in the kitchen eating it on their laps and me da’s had his at the kitchen table. Yours is in the range with mine and Anthony’s. Da’s gone back to the pub. Dana is being made to do a football jigsaw puzzle with our lads, she says she will be in as soon as she gets stuck. You’ve given me da a great excuse.’ In a gentler tone, she added, ‘Everyone is worried sick about you though, Vic. Nothing would make Mam happier if you managed a bit of dinner.’ And with a smile she left to make Anthony his tea.
Victoria looked up at Anthony and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I was going to come and see you tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I have been feeling so dreadful. At first I thought it was car sickness from when Roland and I drove Teddy and Dana back, but it hasn’t gone away and now Roland has been ill in bed too, so I’ve been thinking maybe it’s a bug or something. He doesn’t seem to be as bad as me though. He probably thinks I’m exaggerating.’ Her voice faded as she removed her lace handkerchief from the sleeve of her cardigan and blew her nose.
Anthony looked at her square on. ‘Victoria, I think I know what is wrong with you. I would need to examine you to be one hundred per cent sure, but I ca
n’t do that here. And besides, you may wish someone else…’ His words petered out and he sounded mildly embarrassed.
Victoria failed to notice. She dabbed at her face and looked at him expectantly. A flash of hope came into her eyes. ‘Oh, what is it? Will it pass soon?’
‘Oh, it will pass all right, but it will take its time.’
‘Really? How long?’
Victoria was struggling to sit upright so Anthony slipped his hand under her elbow and, standing, grabbed the cushion from where Pammy had placed it under her feet and tucked it under her head. ‘Is that better?’ he asked as he plumped it and then helped her ease down on to it.
‘Much, thank you.’
Anthony knew his next words would come as a bombshell. Pammy had dropped hints about the sort of relationship Victoria enjoyed with Roland. He knew of the decision they had taken not to marry until Victoria had sat her finals but also not to deny themselves the intimate pleasures that marriage would bring. Pammy had made it very clear that Anthony would enjoy no such pleasures with her and that she was very much keeping herself for the man she married. He could not explain why, but this thought drove him mad. He had to marry Pammy and soon. She had to be his and his alone and until that moment came, he could never be sure that she was truly going to be his, no matter what she said to reassure him.
‘Here, sip this,’ he said as he picked up the glass of water on the floor that he had just nearly kicked over. He assumed that one of the boys had been sent to fetch it when Victoria had fainted.
She lifted her head, took a few sips and then flopped back down again.
Anthony heard the kettle sing out enthusiastically in the kitchen. The sound of canned laughter on the radio and chatter filtered in, accompanied by the chink of crockery and the clang of cutlery. He knew he had about three minutes before Pammy returned with the tea.
‘Victoria, I can see you have no idea what is up with you and so I just need to ask you one question, because I think I do.’ He took a deep breath. ‘When was the first day of your last menstruation?’
The Mother's Of Lovely Lane Page 27