by Liz Harris
‘The most important word at the moment is “if”. You said, if you are pregnant. You don’t yet know for certain that you are. There are lots of reasons why a woman misses a few periods. I suggest that we don’t say anything to anyone until we’re absolutely sure of what we’re facing.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘The first thing is to make a doctor’s appointment for as soon as possible – we’ll ring up from the public phone in front of the cinema. I’ll come to the doctor’s with you and your father will think we’ve gone shopping. And talking about shopping, I suggest we finish our cakes, buy what we need and go home.’
The doctor’s examination was brief, but thorough. From the expression on his face as he went back outside the screen, leaving her to get dressed, Patricia knew that her suspicion had been confirmed.
She finished dressing and went and sat next to her mother on the other side of the doctor’s desk. Her mother gave her an encouraging smile, then they turned back to the doctor, who was rapidly scanning her file. When he’d finished, he picked up his pen and asked about her periods. Glancing occasionally at her mother’s drawn face, she gave her dates to the best of her recollection.
She was definitely pregnant, the doctor said at last, putting his pen down on the blotting pad. He’d done a blood test and would send it away, but there was no doubt in his mind about the result: the physical evidence was unmistakable. She could expect to give birth around the middle of May. His eyes slipped to her left hand. Instinctively, she slid her right hand on top of her left. Her mother’s arm brushed hers as she leaned across and put a hand on top of hers.
His face impassive, the doctor looked from Patricia to Enid and back again to Patricia, then he suggested a date for a further appointment. They agreed the date and walked out of the surgery into the overcast morning.
‘I’ve never liked Dr Saunders,’ Enid said as they started walking up the tree-lined hill towards Belsize Park Gardens, the dead leaves crackling under their feet. ‘He’s not what you’d call a friendly man. Your father likes him, though, and I have to admit that the advice he’s given George over the years about his arthritis has been quite helpful. What do you think of him?’
Patricia didn’t answer.
Enid glanced at her. She was walking along, her eyes fixed on the ground and her hand resting on her stomach. Enid fell silent and turned away.
Beneath the wool of her skirt, Patricia could feel the slight swell of her baby, her gift from Kalden, a gift she already loved.
With every step that she took, memories of Ladakh flooded into her mind. She saw before her the stone-covered plateau, the steep slopes of red and crimson scree, the diverse shades of grey in the rocks, the snow-capped peaks that towered above the plateau, the chortens and the manis, their colourful prayer flags fluttering in the breeze, and she saw Kalden.
They reached the top of the hill and turned to the left. A tap on her arm pulled her out of her reverie, and she realised that Enid was telling her to step off the pavement. Looking up, she saw a young woman pushing her pram towards them along the narrow pavement. She stepped into the gutter and stood still. Enid walked a little further on, then paused to wait for her daughter.
‘How old is your baby?’ Patricia asked the woman as the pram drew alongside her. The woman stopped where she was. Patricia peered into the pram and gazed at the tiny face that was almost hidden by a pile of blankets.
‘She’s two months,’ the mother replied. ‘I’m taking her for her check-up.’
‘She’s lovely,’ she said, and she smiled into the pram. ‘She’s really sweet.’
‘She’s not that sweet when she’s yelling at two in the morning, I can tell you! Have you got any kids?’
‘I’m having a baby in May.’
‘Good luck to you, then. I hope it’s a better sleeper than Claire.’
And the mother moved off.
Enid resumed walking and Patricia hurried to catch her up. ‘Shall we tell Father when we get back home?’
‘I think we might as well. There’s no point in putting it off any longer, is there? The blood test will only confirm what we already know. But if your father appears to be in a bad mood, we’ll leave it for another day. We’ll play it by ear, as they say.’
The Major sat behind his desk in the front room and heard Patricia in silence, his back ramrod straight, his lips set in a grim line. Enid stood nervously behind her daughter. Patricia finished telling him about the baby and waited for him to speak, but he sat motionless, unspeaking, his eyes looking beyond her. She cleared her throat, willing him to say something.
‘Am I expected to congratulate you upon the conception of a bastard?’ he asked at last, his voice hard. Patricia heard her mother catch her breath. ‘Animals fornicate and as a consequence, produce young. Is the fact that you have achieved what the lowliest beast can achieve a matter for praise? Well, is it?’ he asked sharply, his eyes ice-cold.
‘Of course not, Father,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘But it was a bit more than that. I love Kalden. My baby is the result of love.’
‘Love, you call it! I think lust might be a more accurate word – lust for a man you hardly knew, for a man who could never have offered you a future. Kindly don’t dress it up, madam.’
‘I loved him and I’m not ashamed of it.’
‘And I suppose that you’re not ashamed of ignoring the teachings of the Christian Church and letting him have what he wanted out of wedlock? Where is your self-respect, girl? We expected you to value yourself more highly. You may not be ashamed for yourself, but I am ashamed for you, as no doubt is your mother. We deserved better from you than public disgrace.’
‘There’s no disgrace in loving someone like Kalden. You never really got to know him, but I did. He was a wonderful person, kind and loving.’
‘I think we are all now well aware of the nature of his love. That is only too evident from your present predicament. When both of you were so late in returning that day at the mountain pasture, I did wonder fleetingly if there could be anything untoward between you, but I believed in you, Patricia, and I refused to entertain thoughts that placed you in a bad light. I took your words at face value. It would appear, however, that you lied to me then, just as you lied to me before I left for Leh, and no doubt on many other occasions, too. What kind of love gives rise to lies?’
‘You can twist it any way you want, Father. But if Kalden hadn’t died, we would have got married and we would have been very happy. I will never feel ashamed of having his baby.’
‘You may feel what you wish, Patricia, just as your mother and I are entitled to feel as we do. And in the same way, it is up to you to choose what you do. After all, you will have to live with the consequences of your decision.’
She looked at her father, confused. ‘What choice have I got? I’m already pregnant.’
‘As you have made very clear. Let me assure you, Patricia, that I do not expect you to attempt to procure for yourself a miscarriage, nor to go to any of the so-called backstreet abortionists, about whom one hears such horror stories. No, your choice is a very simple one: you either give up the child for adoption as soon as it is born or you keep the baby.’
‘I’m going to keep the baby, of course.’
‘Whichever course you decide upon, you will have to defer taking up your place at the teaching college until next year, but that should prove possible. Should you choose the option of adoption, you may remain at home until your condition becomes unmistakable. I shall then find somewhere for you to stay for the final months of your pregnancy. It will be at some distance from here – I should prefer the neighbours not to be over familiar with every detail of our private life. When the time for the birth approaches, you will be admitted into a home for unmarried mothers. I believe that there are several such places around. As soon as the child has been handed over to its new parents, you may return home.’
‘I will never agree to that.’
‘You will naturally
need time to think about it. However, I am sure that you will agree, upon reflection, that it is a generous offer. I am, of course, prepared to meet every expense that is incurred.’ He paused a moment, and cleared his throat. ‘You may not feel it at the moment, Patricia, but I do love you and I want only what is the best for you in the long run.’
She stared at her father, frightened. ‘I couldn’t give up my baby. I couldn’t give him up. I love him. It’s all I’ve got of Kalden. Please don’t make me do that.’
‘I am not making you do anything, Patricia. The choice is yours.’
‘Then I’m going to keep my baby. That’s my choice.’
‘Then you may remain here until your condition becomes clearly visible. At that point you must leave this house and find your own lodgings. You will make your own arrangements about the birth and you will find yourself somewhere to live after the child is born, somewhere that will accommodate a baby.’
‘But how will I pay for everything? I won’t be able to work when I’m really large. And once the baby’s born, I’ll have to look after him, so I won’t be able to work then, or not very easily. What would I do with the baby while I was working?’
‘That is for you to determine. My time in the National Assistance Board suggests that you may well be eligible for some sort of benefit – most people seem to be. I imagine that there is some form of assistance for unmarried mothers. You might wish to research available benefits while you await the birth, if keeping the child is the course of action that you decide upon.’
She turned to her mother in panic, but Enid gestured her helplessness and shook her head. She turned back to her father, and stared at him in a silent plea.
‘I have set out the options as I see them,’ he said, standing up. ‘Of course, you may come up with a plan that I have not thought of, in which case you will pursue that plan, if that is your wish. Whatever you choose to do is entirely up to you, Patricia. I suggest that you now go to your room and give the matter some thought.’
‘Please, Father …’
‘I think I have said all that there is to be said.’ He looked beyond her to his wife. ‘Regarding tea this afternoon, Enid, you and I will take our tea together in the kitchen. You may take Patricia’s tea to her room. She will wish, I am sure, to remain in her room to consider the options I’ve put before her.’
He walked out from behind the desk and crossed the room to the door. Opening the door, he motioned to Enid to go through it, and then he opened it wider for Patricia. She stared at him, unable to move.
‘You may leave now, Patricia,’ he said from the doorway.
Numb within, she walked slowly across the room. When she was almost out of the room, he laid his hand gently on her shoulder.
‘I am not entirely without sympathy for the position you find yourself in,’ he said awkwardly, ‘although I am aware that it may sound as if I am. You are my daughter and you have been a good daughter to me. Furthermore, I do recognise that in the period prior to learning of your relationship with Kalden, I found him to be a pleasant young man.’
‘Thank you, Father,’ she said quietly. ‘You don’t know what it means to me to hear you say that. Thank you.’
He held up his hand to stop her. ‘But I cannot lie and say that I am not pleased that your relationship with him has ended. I am pleased – it was an unsuitable liaison – but I do regret very much the way in which it ended. And despite the fact that I abhor the way in which you have behaved, I can see that this must be hard for you.’
She audibly caught her breath, her eyes widening in hope.
‘But I cannot, and I will not, allow our name to be dragged through the mud,’ he went on, and her hope faded. ‘Not just for my sake and your mother’s, but also for your sake. You are still very young and you have a good future ahead of you, provided that that future remains unsullied. As your father, it is my duty to do my utmost to ensure that it does.’ He paused.
‘I understand, Father.’
‘Good. I have laid before you the two options as I see them. It’s up to you which one you choose. In all conscience, I can do no more.’ He opened the door a little wider. She took a step forward out of the room, then turned back to look at him. They stared at each other for a moment, neither saying a word, then the Major firmly closed the door.
Chapter Nineteen
April to May, 1963
Patricia walked slowly up Highbury Fields, her mother at her side. Past the open-air swimming pool she went and past the expanse of grass that lay beyond it, her eyes firmly on the gravel path in front of her. She was not going to look to the left to see the children playing on the fields; she was not going to let herself hear them laughing and talking to each other. Her eyes down, her feet moving one in front of the other, she reached the tennis courts, passed them, and came out on to Highbury Hill, leaving the fields and the children behind her.
‘Let me get my breath,’ Enid said. She stopped in front of the clock tower in the middle of the crossroads at the top of the hill, perched on the edge of its stone surround and put Patricia’s suitcase on the ground next to her. ‘Even though you haven’t brought a lot, your case is beginning to feel quite heavy. That was more of a hill than I realised. And if I’m tired, you must be even more so, darling.’ She nodded towards Patricia’s swollen stomach.
‘I’m fine. Do you want to go back and sit on one of the benches for a bit – you’d be more comfortable there than here? If you’re tired, that is.’
‘No, let’s do this now.’ Enid forced a smile, stood up and picked up the suitcase again. ‘We don’t want to shilly-shally, do we? We’re nearly there now. Might as well get it over with.’ She squeezed her daughter’s arm.
‘But it’s not going to be got over with, as you put it, for another month, is it? In fact, it’ll be even longer than that. They’re not going to take the baby away the minute it’s born.’ She started to move away, glancing up at the clock tower as she did so. She stopped abruptly. ‘I’d call that colour ox-blood, wouldn’t you? Ox-blood and gilt. How very appropriate since it marks the place where I’m going to betray Kalden by giving his baby away. And what’s more, there’s even a sun dial on top of the tower. The sun was going to be the symbol of our life together. How wrong can you be?’
‘Let’s go, Patricia,’ Enid said quietly. She took her arm and they started to walk.
A little way down the hill, Enid stopped and stared across the road at one of the terraced Victorian houses that lined the pavement. Patricia glanced at her, then followed her gaze to the other side of the road and stared at the house opposite her. Neither of them said a word.
A tangled mass of holly grew over the outer railings and overhung the pavement. Between the house and the railings, half hidden by one of the brick gateposts that stood on either side of the iron gate, the branches of a dying tree reached up to the April sky. Like hands, she thought. The branches were just like hands, long bony hands with lots of veins – every vein, every artery visible beneath a transparent skin: dying hands. She looked away from the decaying tree and stared down at her stomach. Her baby was kicking.
‘I think it’s going to be a boy,’ she said. ‘It kicks all the time. I bet he’ll be good at football.’
‘Don’t be too sure of that.’ Enid smiled with her mouth. ‘James hardly moved at all, but as for you – you couldn’t keep still for a minute. That baby could just as easily be a girl.’
Patricia’s eyes returned to the tall house and climbed to the grey slate roof where two chimneys stood: tall, narrow chimneys, which made the house seem loftier, more fearful.
‘I’m going in now,’ she told her mother abruptly. ‘As you said, we might as well get it over with. We’ll say goodbye here.’
‘Won’t you let me come in with you? I want to see your room, see that you’ve got everything you need.’ Enid’s eyes pleaded with her.
‘I’d rather be on my own. It’d be easier.’
‘I feel as if I’ve let you down, Patsy
.’ Her eyes filled with tears and she put out her arms to hug her daughter. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I know you want to keep your baby – of course, you do – and I wanted to help you do that. But I didn’t know how. You do know that, don’t you?’
‘I do know that, Mother.’
‘If only I had a bit more money of my own, but I don’t. I make very little, and what I bring home, we need. But if I had anything at all to spare, I’d give it to you so that you could keep the baby. Whatever the neighbours thought. But I haven’t.’
‘I understand, Mother.’
‘I tried to talk to your father – I asked him to let you come home with the baby. I told him that you being happy was the most important thing of all. But you know your father, dear. He loves you, and he’s so sure that he’s right about this being the best thing for you that he won’t even listen to me. You know what he’s like, don’t you, and you don’t blame me. You don’t, do you?’
‘I do know what he’s like. Yes.’
‘And Daddy found you a nice place to stay for the last few weeks, didn’t he? Mr and Mrs Taylor were kind to you and looked after you well, didn’t they? We did the best we could.’
‘They were fine, really they were.’ Patricia pushed her mother’s arms away. ‘I’m sure you did everything you could, Mother,’ she said. She took her suitcase from Enid’s hands and started to cross the road.
‘I did, didn’t I? There was nothing else I could do.’
She reached the other side, and stepped out of the gutter and on to the pavement.
‘Don’t blame me for this, Patsy. I love you, darling,’ she heard her mother call.
Without looking back, she walked between the gateposts and climbed the stone steps that led to the porch. Across the road behind her, she could hear Enid crying. Her back to her mother, she raised her hand to the iron doorknocker and rapped it twice. Then she stepped back from the porch and waited.