Sing As We Go

by Margaret Dickinson

  She paused and was pensive for a few moments. ‘I met someone out there, Kathy. An officer. And we fell in love.’

  Kathy was silent. She didn’t want to break the spell. Besides, she didn’t really know what to say.

  ‘Of course, such – such liaisons were frowned upon. He could have been in serious trouble and so could I, but we didn’t care. We were in love and we lived for the moment. We had to, because we didn’t know if we had a future. Either of us.’

  Now Kathy could guess what had happened. At least, part of it. ‘Was he – was he killed?’

  Jemima nodded. Her voice was flat and emotionless as she went on. ‘I came home. I – had to. I was pregnant.’

  Kathy gasped. She had not expected this. ‘But – I mean – what . . . ?’ She fell silent. Now she really was lost for words.

  Jemima looked up with a half smile. ‘Can’t you guess?’

  Kathy stared at her. Conflicting thoughts were whirling around her head. What was she supposed to guess? That the baby had died? That it had been adopted? What? Slowly she shook her head.

  ‘I had a baby boy,’ Jemima whispered, as if trying to give her a clue.

  Kathy was still puzzled.

  ‘When I came home my father was so angry I thought for a moment he was actually going to kill me.’

  Suddenly, Kathy remembered the exchange of glances, the strange conversation between Jemima and her sister-in-law, Betty Robinson. She had thought it odd at the time but had never dreamed it could have such significance.

  Jemima paused only briefly and then continued. ‘Ted never went to the war. His work was on the land, and just about the time I came home he and Betty were about to get married. They took my baby and brought him up as their own.’

  Kathy’s mouth dropped open. ‘Morry?’ she breathed. ‘Morry is your son?’

  Jemima’s smile flickered briefly as she said, ‘Yes, he is. And I don’t regret his birth for one minute. Not one minute, Kathy. He’s all I have left of Charlie.’ Then her smile faded, to be replaced by a haunted look of anticipated anguish. ‘But now? Who knows? Maybe I’m going to lose him too.’

  Kathy moved forward and took her hands. ‘Oh no. Morry won’t have to go. He’s a farmer. He won’t have to go.’ She paused and, as if the doubt had pervaded her own mind, added, ‘Will he?’

  Jemima sighed. ‘Who knows? Who can guess what regulations they’ll bring in? But, of course, he may – feel it’s his duty to go. He may volunteer.’

  ‘Does – does Morry know? I mean – that he’s your—?’

  ‘Oh yes. And Amy too.’

  ‘Amy knew?’ Kathy burst out before she could stop herself. Chatterbox Amy, who couldn’t keep a secret for love nor money, had never breathed a word, never even hinted at such a family skeleton.

  Jemima smiled fondly. ‘Yes, even Amy has kept my secret. And I’m asking you to do the same now. There was no point in hiding such a thing – at least not from the members of my family. And we all agreed that Maurice should always be told the truth, though I’m not sure about the neighbours.’ She cast a comical look at Kathy. ‘I’m sure the gossip was that Ted and Betty had had a shotgun wedding.’ She laughed wryly. ‘I don’t expect your father would have been so keen to marry you off to Maurice if he’d known he was my bastard son.’

  Kathy flinched. ‘Don’t call Morry that. It sounds awful.’

  ‘It’s what he is, but thanks to Ted and Betty he’s never had to suffer because of it. But remember, Kathy, I have trusted my secret with you. Not a word to a soul.’

  Kathy shook her head and said huskily, ‘Of course not.’

  ‘And so you see now why I say, “What are we going to do about it?” ’

  Now Kathy raised her head slowly, tears in her eyes. She had fully expected to be thrown out of the house, to be cast out in disgrace with no home, no family and nowhere to go. She had, like all the girls at work she was sure, viewed Jemima Robinson as a strait-laced spinster who had perhaps never known romance, let alone borne a child. The news came as a shock to Kathy, yet now she understood why Jemima was not turning her back on her and why she was offering, so generously, to stand by her and help her.

  But there was one difference between their plights. A huge difference. Jemima’s lover had been killed before he even knew about the child. There was nothing he could have done even if he had wanted to. But the father of Kathy’s child was still alive.

  As if reading her thoughts, Jemima said, ‘Can we get in touch with Tony? Perhaps he can get compassionate leave and you can be married.’

  ‘No!’ The word came out like the crack of a whiplash. Then more quietly, Kathy said, ‘I – I don’t want him to know.’

  ‘Don’t want him to know?’ Jemima repeated. ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Because I don’t want anyone saying he married me because he had to.’

  ‘But – but, that’s not the case.’ Jemima was mystified. ‘You were going to be married.’ She gave a snort of disgust as she remembered Beatrice’s antics. ‘You almost were.’

  ‘I know,’ Kathy said flatly, ‘but it’s different now.’

  ‘Why is it different? Tony loves you. He’ll probably be thrilled about the baby anyway.’

  ‘He – he’s only written to me once.’

  ‘Oh, phooey! The poor man’s probably exhausted. Basic training must be pretty tough.’

  Kathy met Jemima’s open gaze. ‘But he’s written every other day to his mother.’

  Jemima raised her eyebrows. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because his dad told me.’

  ‘I see,’ Jemima said thoughtfully, then added, ‘Well, I expect he’s trying to keep her happy.’

  ‘Mm.’ Kathy was not convinced.

  There was a silence. ‘Let’s get ready and go to St Mary’s. Aren’t you singing there today with the choral society before they disband?’

  Kathy sighed. ‘Yes. And I’m supposed to be singing a solo. But I don’t know if I’ll manage it.’

  Jemima forced a smile. She’d looked forward to hearing the girl sing, but the occasion would be spoilt by the dark cloud hanging over their heads.

  ‘Courage, my dear. Now’s the time to show your mettle. Put a brave face on. Hold your head up high. Now, you go and get ready while I clear away.’

  Kathy began to protest, but Jemima waved her away. ‘I’ll do it.’

  Upstairs, Kathy sat on her bed and stared vacantly into space. She had to face the awful truth. She was pregnant. And she couldn’t help but think how gleeful her father would be that he’d been proved right.

  She heard the back door open and close and Jemima’s footsteps trot along the passage. She glanced at her alarm clock, wondering if she had lost track of time and Jemima was already setting off to church. But no, she had only been sitting there for ten minutes or so.

  With a sigh, Kathy got up. Perhaps Jemima was going to see Ron Spencer, was going to tell him the news, tell him that there was no way that Kathy could become a member of his concert party now.

  She felt a little cross that Jemima might be spreading the news so quickly, but then she sighed. He would have to know sooner or later, though, and at least Jemima was saving her, Kathy, the embarrassment of having to tell him herself.

  When she went downstairs a little later, Jemima was waiting for her. ‘Come along, we’ll have to hurry.’

  There was no chance for conversation as they walked quickly along side by side. This morning they were attending the church where Kathy and Tony should have been married. When they reached the church porch, Ron was waiting for them. ‘I was getting a bit anxious. I thought you weren’t coming.’

  Kathy smiled weakly. Why should he think that? she wondered. Surely Jemima had told him they would be attending service when she’d spoken to him earlier?

  Ron fussed around her, leading her to her place in the choir and ensuring that she had everything she needed for her solo.

  ‘Don’t be nervous,’ he said patting her hand. ‘You’ll
be fine.’

  Reading far more into his words than just encouragement for her performance, tears sprang to her eyes.

  The service went well and when Kathy stood up to sing, she closed her eyes and blanked her mind of everything except the words and the music. Her clear voice echoed through the church and, emotional as she was feeling, she put such feeling into the words of the hymn that there was scarcely a dry eye in the congregation when she had finished.

  As the worshippers filed out, Kathy found herself being shaken by the hand or patted on the back. People she hardly knew smiled and congratulated her.

  ‘Does everyone know?’

  ‘Of course they don’t,’ Jemima retorted. ‘They’re praising you for your singing, my dear. Nothing else. I hardly think,’ she added dryly, ‘that many here would consider your – er – news as something for congratulation.’

  ‘But did you . . .?’ she began, but at that moment, Ron Spencer came towards them, rubbing his hands with glee. ‘Beautiful, my dear girl, just beautiful. Now, have you made up your mind about joining the concert party? I do hope it’s going to be a yes.’

  Kathy stared at him. She’d been wrong. He knew nothing about her condition. She bit her lip and shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Spencer, but it – it has to be no.’

  His face fell. ‘Well, I’m disappointed. Very disappointed. Perhaps you’ll change your mind once your young man’s been home and you’ve got him hooked, eh?’ He laughed at his own joke.

  Kathy flinched. Even if Tony came home and they were married, she could imagine some of the gossip when word got out that she was expecting his child.

  ‘Couldn’t escape a second time, could he?’

  ‘Made sure she got him this time, eh?’

  And so on.

  There and then on the steps of the church where six weeks ago she should have been married, Kathy made her decision.

  She would not marry Tony at all. By the time he came home on leave, she would be gone. She would disappear and no one would know where she had gone. Only perhaps one person. She would confide in Jemima.

  When they turned into the street, Kathy saw the Robinsons’ car parked outside the front of Jemima’s house.

  ‘Oh no!’ she breathed and stopped. ‘Did you know they were coming today? I can’t face them. Please . . .’

  Jemima took hold of her arm with a firm grip. ‘Kathy, my dear, listen to me. I rang them from the telephone box at the end of the street.’

  Kathy wrenched herself free and turned to face Jemima. ‘You did what?’

  ‘I telephoned Betty,’ Jemima repeated calmly, quite unapologetic. ‘You should go home.’

  ‘Home?’ Kathy’s laugh had a note of hysteria. ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘Well, if not to your parents, then to Betty and Ted’s. They’ll look after you.’

  ‘No.’ Kathy shook her head. She was adamant. ‘No. I will go away, but not back to Abbeytoft. Never back there.’

  ‘At least come in and talk about it. Please.’

  ‘You – you’ve told them?’

  ‘I had to. We need their help.’

  ‘No, I don’t. I’ll—’

  ‘Stop being so melodramatic, Kathy. You’re not the first and you’re certainly not going to be the last.’ Again she took hold of Kathy’s arm, and this time there was no wriggling free.

  Kathy’s heart plummeted even further as she stepped into the kitchen and saw that there was only one member of the Robinson family there.

  ‘Hello, Morry,’ she said flatly, avoiding his eyes.

  ‘Kathy.’

  ‘Go into the front room,’ Jemima said briskly, peeling off her gloves and removing her hat, ‘while I make some tea.’

  Woodenly, Kathy led the way through and sat stiffly on a chair beside the empty grate, while Morry sat awkwardly on the sofa. The same sofa where she had spent so many happy hours with Tony . . .

  She averted her gaze.

  ‘Does he know? Have you told him?’

  ‘No, and I’m not going to. He’s been gone six weeks and I’ve only had one letter, right at the beginning, yet he’s written to his mother every other day. Just shows where his thoughts are, doesn’t it?’ she added bitterly. She pulled in a deep breath. ‘I’ve made up my mind. I’m not going to marry him. I’m not even going to tell him. It’s over.’

  ‘Everyone wants you to come home with me,’ Morry blurted out. ‘We’ll take care of you.’

  ‘Oh, Morry, don’t be kind to me. I don’t deserve it.’

  ‘I could never be unkind to you, Kathy.’ His hand tightened on hers. ‘You know how I feel about you.’

  ‘Stop it! You’ll make me cry.’ But already it was too late. Tears were coursing down her face.

  Morry knelt beside her chair. ‘I’d do anything for you, Kathy. Marry me and I’ll take care of you and your baby. I swear I’d treat it as my own. You’d never hear a word of reproach from me. I promise you.’

  For a moment she closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. How very easy it would be to give in. To take this wonderful man’s offer. To let him care for her for the rest of their lives. And she knew he would. She would be safe and secure and, yes, loved by a good man . . .

  ‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t do that to you.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to love me.’ Morry was still not ready to give up. ‘Well, not in the way I love you. But we’re friends, aren’t we? Maybe in time . . .’

  Kathy raised her head and shook it slowly. ‘You deserve so much more, Morry.’

  ‘What if I don’t want any more, Kathy? What if all I really want is you?’

  ‘Morry, don’t,’ she moaned. ‘You make me feel so – so ashamed.’

  ‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed about, Kathy. You – you loved him and you thought you were going to be married. Don’t blame yourself.’

  ‘I should have known,’ she said flatly. ‘I should have known that somehow his mother would stop it. She told she would. She told me she’d never let him marry me. And now it looks as if she’s got her wish.’

  ‘Come home with me. We’ll look after you anyway, even if – even if you really don’t want to marry me.’

  She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears, trying to remain firm in her resolve. ‘I can’t. It’s – it’s too near home. You know what my father’s like. He – he’d make my life a misery. And probably yours and all your family’s too.’

  Morry gave a wry laugh. ‘Do you really think Jim Burton’s ranting bothers my dad? Or any of us for that matter?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be fair,’ Kathy was adamant, her mind made up. ‘I’m going away, Morry. Right away.’

  ‘Where, Kathy? How will you manage?’

  ‘I – I don’t know yet. But I’ve got to handle this on my own. As my father would say, I’ve made my bed so now I’ve got to lie on it.’

  Morry knew he was beaten, but even yet, he couldn’t quite let go. ‘You’ll write to me, Kathy? Just to let me – us – know that you’re all right? At least do that. Please?’

  ‘All right. Just so long as you promise not to try to find me.’

  He sighed, defeated at last. ‘All right. I promise.’

  She didn’t know if she believed him, but it was all she could do.

  They begged, they pleaded, they reasoned, but Kathy was adamant. She was going away. Somewhere where no one knew her. She would find some sort of work until she couldn’t work any more and then she would go into a mother and baby home until the child was born.

  ‘And then?’ Jemima asked bluntly. ‘What then?’

  ‘I – I don’t know.’

  ‘You mean you’ll give it up for adoption?’

  Kathy’s head snapped up. ‘No. Never. I’ll never do that.’

  ‘But how will you manage? Society doesn’t look kindly on unmarried mothers.’

  Kathy flinched at Jemima’s bluntness, but she was only speaking the truth, painful though it was to hear it.

&nb
sp; ‘I – I don’t know. But I’ll manage somehow.’

  There was a long silence before Morry rose. ‘I must be getting back.’ He stood looking down at Kathy for a long moment. Then he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. ‘I know you don’t want me to come looking for you, but promise me one thing, please, Kathy.’

  She looked up at him.

  ‘Promise me that if ever you need a friend you will come to me.’

  Slowly, Kathy nodded.

  Twenty-Seven

  Kathy stood on the sea front looking out across the cold grey water.

  She had been living in Saltershaven for five months now. The day after Morry’s visit she had packed her suitcase, accepted the money that Jemima pressed upon her and gone to Lincoln bus station. She hadn’t even looked where the bus was heading, and after a journey that had seemed to last for ever but was in fact only about two and a half hours, she had found herself in the seaside town. As she’d stepped down from the bus, she’d allowed herself a wry smile. How different she felt this time. The day she’d spent here the previous Easter with Amy and Aunt Jemima had been filled with happiness. The only cloud in her sky then had been because Tony had not been there too. And now – only a year later – she was running away from them all.

  For the first two nights, Kathy was obliged to spend some of the precious money Jemima had given her at a bed and breakfast. But when the local newspaper came out on the Wednesday, she found lodgings among the advertisements. ‘Furnished rooms. Season or longer. Full board if required.’ There was a box number to answer. She went into the paper’s office and left a short note. The next day she was contacted and went to view the rooms.

  ‘How long will you be here?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but it will be for at least four months. Perhaps a little longer.’

  ‘Mm . . .’ The woman owner of the house divided into bed-sitting rooms seemed doubtful as she looked Kathy up and down. Slyly, Kathy said, ‘I can pay you a month’s rent in advance instead of the week you’re asking for, if you like.’