Sing As We Go

by Margaret Dickinson

  Thirty-Seven

  How she got through the rest of the week, Kathy didn’t know. The time seemed to crawl and she passed the days in a trance. She could sleep, yet she didn’t feel tired. She was buoyed up with hope and excitement. She was bursting to confide in someone, yet she dared not. She felt that if she voiced her hopes aloud, her dream would be shattered.

  Friday came at last and she was once more waiting outside the council offices for her early appointment with Mr Wainwright. The moment she stepped into his office she knew the news was good. He rose from behind his desk and came towards her with his hand outstretched to shake hers.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Burton,’ he smiled. ‘Please sit down. Now, let me tell you straight away that I have decided to give you a month’s trial in the post as James’s nanny. In fact, to give us both a month’s trial.’ He sat down at his desk again, rested his arms on its surface and linked his fingers together. ‘I went to Willow House to see James. He’s being well cared for, but it’s a grim place. I – Beryl wouldn’t have been happy to think he was back there.’ He paused, remembering his wife. ‘Anyway, we’ll give it a try, but please understand, I am not making a long-term commitment at this stage. I – I really don’t know if I can. And like I said before, you may be called up. But for the moment,’ he went on briskly, adopting his business-like manner once again, ‘let’s discuss practicalities. I have agreed a price on a house, and though they’re hurrying things up as much as possible, I can’t move in for two weeks. You won’t be expected to do very much in the way of heavy housework, though perhaps you wouldn’t mind cooking the occasional meal? I have a daily help, Mrs Talbot, where I’m living now. She’s good in her way,’ he added wryly, ‘but she is burdened with an idle, good-for-nothing husband who resorts to illness as a means of having a few days off work. But domestics aren’t easy to come by these days so I shall be keeping her on when I move.’

  ‘Of course I wouldn’t mind helping out.’

  ‘Good. Now, in the meantime, perhaps you could give me the name of two people. I like to take up references; it’s the way we do things here. But I’m sure it’s only a formality, so, if you’d like to make arrangements with the concert party to leave in two weeks’ time and return here then?’

  Kathy nodded, her eyes shining. No matter what the future held, at least she would be able to spend a month with her little boy. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

  ‘I’ll be here,’ she promised.

  ‘A nanny? Whatever do you want to become a nanny for? Have you any experience with children?’ Ron was aghast. ‘Of course I’ll give him a reference . . .’ Ron was one of the two names she had given Mr Wainwright, the other being Mr James Hammond, which had seemed to impress him. ‘But I can’t understand why you want to leave us to look after someone else’s child. My dear,’ he took her hand and patted it gently. ‘It won’t be a substitute for your own, you know. I know you had a dreadful time but one day you will meet a nice young man and . . .’

  Tears filled Kathy’s eyes as she shook her head. ‘You don’t understand. This is something I have to do. Something I want to do – more than anything else in the world.’

  Ron stared at her. ‘Why, Kathy?’ he said softly. ‘Just tell me why? We’re going to miss you so much in the party and you bring such pleasure to the audience. A pretty girl – a very pretty girl – with a beautiful voice and you want to bury yourself away here to devote yourself to just one child. Oh my dear, don’t cry. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, but I just can’t understand it. I thought you enjoyed being with us. You get on with all the other members in the party, don’t you?’

  Kathy nodded wordlessly.

  ‘Then . . .’

  Kathy sighed. This man had been so good to her, so kind. He deserved to hear the truth, even if it cost her a good reference. But she knew instinctively that she could trust him. He was a devout man who would not betray her confidence.

  ‘If – if I tell you the real reason, will you promise me that it’ll remain just between us?’

  ‘Of course, but . . .’

  ‘Then please sit down, Ron. This is going to take a while . . .’

  She told him it all, starting right back at the beginning with her life of drudgery at home and how she had longed to escape. ‘If my father hadn’t hit me that day, I’d probably still have been there.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Dreaming of the bright lights, no doubt, but still there milking cows at the crack of dawn.’

  Ron smiled. ‘I always wondered how come you were so good at getting up in a morning to catch the early train. I almost have to drag some of the others out of bed, but there you were, bright and early and with a smile on your face . . .’

  Her story went on. How the Robinson family had taken her in and how Jemima had found her a job.

  ‘That was how I met Tony. And then – and then . . .’

  ‘And then the wedding that didn’t happen.’

  She nodded and went on huskily, ‘But there’s something you don’t know. After – after Tony had gone away, I – I found I was pregnant.’

  ‘Oh, my dear girl.’ There was no censure in his tone, just sympathy and understanding.

  ‘I came here to a home for unmarried mothers and babies. I – I wanted to keep him but I was tricked into signing adoption papers and they took him away from me. They never even let me see him or hold him . . .’

  She went on with the whole story, right up until the previous day when Mr Wainwright had offered her the post of nanny.

  ‘It’s my little boy. James is my little boy, Ron. Do you see now why? I just have to grab this chance to be with him. Even if it’s only for a little while.’

  ‘Of course I do. But, Kathy love, are you sure you’re not just building up further heartache for yourself? What if, at the end of the month, this Mr Wainwright decides he doesn’t want to keep the child? What if he decides to put him up for adoption again?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kathy said bleakly. But then she lifted her chin with a new determination. ‘But I’m not going to live on “what ifs”. I’m just going to take each day as it comes.’ She paused and then, putting her head on one side, added wistfully, ‘I don’t suppose you feel like giving me a reference now, do you?’

  ‘My dear, dear girl,’ Ron said, surprising her by pulling her to him and hugging her. Though a kindly man, he was not given to displays of affection. ‘Of course I’ll give you a reference. A glowing one. What better “nanny” could that little boy have than his own mother?’ He pulled away and looked into her eyes. ‘And you need have no worries. Your secret is safe with me.’

  ‘Thank you, Ron,’ she said simply.

  The two weeks passed surprisingly quickly. There were four engagements for the party. They played in and around Nottingham: in a factory canteen, the NAAFI of an RAF station near Newark and two hospitals. This time, with help and encouragement, Melody took part in the show in a hall attached to the hospital, but she did not visit the wards. After Kathy’s final performance, Ron organized a leaving party for her. She was touched by the gifts she was given. Perfume, handkerchiefs, a pretty scarf, and from the comedian in the party, a pair of earplugs. ‘That’s for when he cries too much.’

  They all laughed and Rosie pressed her gift into Kathy’s hands. ‘That’s from me and Martin. I know he’s not here, but he’d want to join in. I know he would.’ It was a children’s picture book. ‘I don’t know whether I envy you or think you’re mad.’ She laughed. ‘I want children of my own one day, but I don’t think I could ever look after someone else’s.’

  Kathy smiled and deliberately avoided meeting Ron’s glance. ‘Thank you, Rosie. It’s lovely,’ was all she said, neatly avoiding commenting on the girl’s statement.

  And then she was on her way to Saltershaven. Soon now, she would see her little boy again.

  ‘Can you go to Willow House to pick him up?’

  Kathy’s heart missed a beat. How could she? They might recognize her!

/>   ‘I – yes, of course,’ she said boldly. ‘But – but do you think they’d hand him over to me? I mean – I could be anybody.’

  ‘Mm. I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll write a note. Better still, I’ll get my secretary to type it on headed paper. That way they’ll know it comes from me.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you – like to fetch him yourself?’ Kathy ventured, trying to make it sound as if it was an occasion he ought not to miss.

  ‘I really haven’t the time,’ he said and pressed the buzzer on his desk that brought his secretary into the room.

  He dictated the letter he wanted written and then scribbled on a piece of paper the address of the house he had just moved into and which was to be Kathy’s new home. ‘Get yourself settled in first,’ he said. ‘Make sure you have everything you need for the boy and then you can fetch him tomorrow.’

  Kathy took the piece of paper from him and waited in the outer office until his secretary had typed the letter. As she left the Town Hall, she was still wondering how on earth she was going to take James out of Willow House without being recognized. And if she was, she was sure the matron would lose no time in telling Mr Wainwright just who his new nanny was.

  The new house Mr Wainwright had bought was situated on a road at the opposite end of the town to the one where he’d lived with his wife. It was a grand house, set high on a ridge of land that ran parallel with the shore and overlooking the sea. She was surprised that he had chosen one that had such a similar setting and view to his old home. But perhaps, she thought, he wanted to live with his memories and wanted to be reminded of his wife. She let herself in with the key he had given her and wandered through all the rooms until she came to the one that had been decorated and furnished as a nursery. The workmen he had employed must have worked very hard to have everything completed so quickly. She crossed the room to the connecting door and found herself in the neighbouring room, which was obviously to be hers. Fresh flowers had been placed on the dressing table, by the daily help, Kathy presumed. She couldn’t imagine the career-minded Mr Wainwright taking the time to get the flowers himself, much less arrange them in a vase and place them in her room.

  Mrs Talbot, the “daily”, turned out to be a jolly round little woman who lived two streets away. She arrived later in the afternoon to prepare Mr Wainwright’s dinner and to see that the new nanny had everything she needed.

  ‘Ee’s told me you’re going to fetch the little one.’

  ‘Yes, I’m going tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Like me to go with you?’

  Kathy hesitated. She had formed a plan. A daring one, certainly, but she hoped that with her new-found acting skills, learned while taking part in the numerous sketches which were part of the concert party’s show, she could pull it off. But Mrs Talbot would undoubtedly think it strange and would more than likely mention it to her employer.

  Kathy smiled widely at her. ‘That’s awfully kind of you, but if you wouldn’t mind being here and having something ready for him to eat.’

  ‘Oh aye, that’s mebbe for the best. Let’s see, how old is he now?’

  Kathy knew to the minute, but she pretended uncertainty. ‘Er – I think he’s about two years old.’

  ‘I’ll make him one of my special egg custards. Little ones love my egg custards.’ She winked and tapped the side of her nose. ‘And made with fresh eggs, let me tell you. But don’t ask me how, ’cos I aren’t telling.’

  Kathy laughed. It seemed they both had secrets they were not about to share, though she liked Mrs Talbot. In some ways she reminded Kathy a little of Auntie Betty.

  ‘The mester said you was to take a taxi tomorrow morning. It’s a long way out to Willow House. D’you know where it is?’

  ‘I think so,’ Kathy made the pretence of sounding doubtful.

  ‘Well, the taxi driver’ll know anyway.’

  But Kathy had already made up her mind that she would walk there, because first there was somewhere else she had to call.

  Thirty-Eight

  ‘Well, well, fancy seeing you here again. Come for your old job back, Kathy? We’ve got a vacancy for an usherette. You can start tomorrow and I don’t need references.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Johnson, but I have a job.’

  ‘Shame. You were a good lass. I haven’t had one since who’s prepared to do all the jobs you didn’t mind turning your hand to, I must say. Anyway, what can I do for you?’

  ‘I’ve come to ask a favour. I – I’ve been invited to a fancy dress party and – and I wondered if I could borrow some props.’

  Larry Johnson waved his arm in the direction of the room where the props were kept. ‘Help yourself. Mrs Jervis isn’t here at the moment, but I’ll square it with her. Mind you let us have whatever you borrow back though. Costumes are hard to come by.’ He adopted a comic sarcasm. ‘There is a war on, you know.’

  ‘I had noticed.’ Kathy giggled.

  Kathy found what she wanted and, alone in the dressing room she had shared with Rosie, donned the black wig and the spectacles. The false hair hung to her shoulders, and she covered it with a wide-brimmed felt hat, which she pulled down low over her forehead. She decided to wear her own clothes, but now she was wearing a smart, tailored suit and looked nothing like the waif in a cheap cotton dress who had presented herself at the door of Willow House seeking admittance. She found some gloves that almost matched her suit and regarded herself in the mirror. Well, she looked the part. Could she now play it?

  She picked up her handbag and the copious shopping bag she had brought with her. She walked out of the dressing room and along the passageway towards the stage door that led to the street behind the theatre. Luckily, there was no one about backstage and, once in the street, she let out her breath and began to walk briskly away.

  She took a taxi from the town out to Willow House. She didn’t want any delay in her getaway. At the gate of the home, she hesitated for just a moment to look up at the forbidding building. The next few minutes would certainly decide her fate one way or the other. Taking a deep breath, she walked up the driveway and knocked boldly on the door. It was answered a few moments later by a heavily pregnant girl. Kathy’s heart went out to her and she longed to smile warmly and talk to her, but she had a part to play. The most important part she would ever undertake in her life.

  Feeling like a traitor to her own kind, Kathy looked the young girl up and down disdainfully and saw her cringe. Her courage almost failed her, but instead she took a deep breath and said in an affected, upper-class tone. ‘I have come to collect the child, James Wainwright. Whom do I have to see?’

  ‘Come in, please, ma’am,’ the girl said and pulled open the door. ‘If you’d just wait here in the hall, I’ll tell Matron.’

  The girl walked away with that peculiar rolling gait reserved for the heavily pregnant towards the door of the matron’s office.

  Kathy remained in the shadowy hall, praying that she would not be invited into the woman’s office, where she knew she would be obliged to stand facing the bright light from the windows.

  But the matron came bustling out of her room. ‘Oh good morning, Miss – er . . .’

  Kathy felt panic twist her stomach. She hadn’t thought of a false name. But then, she thought, I have to use my own. Mr Wainwright will have used my real name in the letter. Oh, how foolish she’d been. She was about to be discovered and all because she hadn’t thought soon enough to use a pseudonym.

  Deciding that the best form of defence was attack, she said in imperious tones that implied that giving her name to such a woman was beneath her, ‘You have the boy ready?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ The matron seemed quite flustered and so unlike the woman Kathy remembered that she almost laughed out loud. ‘Mr Wainwright telephoned this morning. Everything is in order.’

  Kathy made no attempt to hand over her letter of authority from Mr Wainwright and, silently, she blessed him for having taken the trouble to contact the home in person.

  ‘You, girl�
��’ The matron now spoke in the manner that Kathy remembered so well. She shuddered inwardly, but managed to keep her authoritative composure. ‘Go and bring the child here. Mind you bring his belongings with him. Get one of the other girls to help you.’

  The girl hurried away as fast as her bulk would allow her.

  ‘Would you care to wait in my room?’ the matron asked with an obsequious smile once more.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Kathy replied stiffly, avoiding meeting the woman’s eyes. She gazed at the staircase, willing the girls to hurry, but she knew the poor creatures would be unable to do so in their advanced condition.

  ‘You’re to be Mr Wainwright’s nanny, I understand?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘He’s a lovely boy. You do know he’s adopted?’

  ‘So I understand.’

  ‘He came from here. His natural mother was a lovely girl, but you know how it is. The best of them can make mistakes.’

  Kathy almost laughed aloud to hear the kindly understanding in the matron’s tone, when she knew how very different the reality was. Oh, how she’d love to wipe that false smile off her face.

  ‘Such a tragedy, Mrs Wainwright being killed like that, but I’m so pleased to hear that Mr Wainwright has decided to keep the child. Ah, here they come . . .’

  Kathy held her breath as two girls now descended the stairs, the first one leading the little boy by the hand as he carefully negotiated each step, the second carrying a bag of his belongings.

  There we are . . .’ The matron took hold of the child’s hand from the girl and passed him to Kathy. Deliberately, she avoided meeting the matron’s glance and kept her gaze fixed on her child. At last, she had him back where he rightly belonged. No matter that no one knew he was hers, just so long as she could be with him.