The Guest Who Stayed

by Roger Penfound

  They both burst into the bedroom to be confronted by Mrs. Burns holding a baby wrapped in blankets.

  “Only the father, please. Other visitors later,” commanded Mrs. Burns.

  There was an embarrassed pause as no one knew how to react to the instruction.

  “Mr. Malikov is a very close friend,” replied Jed quietly. “It’ll be alright.”

  A look of understanding mixed with disapproval spread across Mrs. Burns face.

  “It’s a girl,” she said as she handed the baby to Jed.

  Jack pushed past Mrs. Burns and clasped Alice’s hands, speaking softly to her out of earshot. Jed cradled the baby in his arms, a broad smile spread across his face. She looked beautiful. She had small, neat features and striking blue eyes. Short wisps of blond hair covered her head with the faintest hint of auburn. For a moment Jed felt ecstatic – holding his daughter and gazing into her eyes.

  “Let me see her, Jed. Bring her to me,” he heard Alice say.

  He carried the baby over to the bed and placed her in Alice’s arms. Jack was sitting by her side on the bed. Together they embraced the baby and wrapped their arms around each other.

  Jed plunged from ecstasy to despair. A moment ago he was staring into the eyes of his daughter. Within seconds he had handed her over to her real father, yet he would continue to act out the pretence of being her father. What devil’s pact had he signed up to?

  “I’ll be going now,” announced Mrs. Burns. “The doctor will be calling by tomorrow morning. Congratulations, Mrs.Carter. And, er, to the father too.”

  Jed followed her out of the room and tried to sound like a grateful and overjoyed new father. But his voice betrayed him. As she was about to leave by the front door, Mrs. Burns looked Jed squarely in the eyes.

  “Do your duty, lad, as best you can and one day it’ll come right. Good luck, lad.”

  The days after the birth were very hectic as the new family took stock. Jed couldn’t imagine how a normal family of two parents could possibly cope as it seemed hard enough with three. Although Jed was at work all day, he found himself literally holding the baby as soon as he walked in through the door. In fact, so keen was Alice to involve Jed that she suggested that he give up his residence in the workshop and move back into the house. Jed was reluctant to do this as he’d become fond of his humble shed and valued the peace it provided when he needed it most. However, keen to demonstrate his commitment to the baby, he was left with no choice.

  For the first few days after the birth, the new arrival was referred to simply as ‘Baby’, which seemed to satisfy everyone. However, by the fourth day Jed was beginning to feel that the child deserved a name and so he raised the question with Alice one evening as she was placing ‘Baby’ into his care.

  “Don’t you think we should give the little child a name, Alice? I’ve been thinking about something simple but local like Joan or Ethel or Sarah.”

  “Those are very old fashioned names, Jed. I don’t want my daughter to sound like some milking maid.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with them names. They’ve been in my family for generations. They’re good solid farming names.”

  “Well, I’ll discuss it with Jack. He needs to be in on it too. I’ll tell him what you’ve said.”

  “But I think we all need to be involved in this, Alice, not just you and Jack.”

  Later than night when Jack had returned from the pub and slipped into bed beside Alice, she broached he same subject.

  “Jed thinks it should be something traditional like Joan or Ethel. But I’m not so sure. I don’t want our baby to be chained to the past. I want her to be modern and independent.”

  “What have you got in mind?”

  “I’m not really sure. Something like Julia or Hazel.”

  Jack didn’t reply immediately. An idea had been taking shape in his mind over the past two days which he couldn’t share with Alice. For a while he had wanted to create some lasting memorial to Yvette. It troubled him that she had been blown into oblivion by one of his own side’s grenades and that for all anyone knew she might never have existed. He felt that she deserved to live on in some way and, as he had been instrumental in her death, he felt obliged to do something. Here was an opportunity for her to live on through his child – a child that might have been her own in different circumstances.

  “There is a name I’ve been thinking of, Alice. I’ve always liked it.”

  “What is it, Jack, tell me then?” demanded Alice, turning to face him in bed.

  “It’s Eve. What do you think?”

  “Eve. I would never have thought of that myself. But I like it. It’s pretty. Tell me why you chose it?”

  He hesitated.

  “It’s simple yet it means so much. Eve was the first woman – if you like, the mother of us all. She was the essence of humanity. She gave meaning to life.”

  “Didn’t she tempt Adam in the Garden of Eden? Didn’t she invent sin?”

  “I don’t see it that way. For me she was a realist – she wanted knowledge and she wanted progress. She knew they couldn’t live forever in the Garden of Eden. She was a modern woman.”

  “Well, I want our daughter to be a realist. We’ve just come through one terrible war and there’s no knowing what’s next. I think Eve is a great name.”

  ‘Baby’ was eventually christened Eve Sarah Danielle Carter at a simple service in St. Martin’s Church. Mother, father and lodger stood together around the font as the Reverend Bowman conducted the short service.

  “Parents and godparents, the Church receives this child with joy. Today we are trusting God for her growth in faith.”

  Alice had insisted that Jack was one of the godparents along with two of her friends from the bakers shop. Jack wasn’t sure he was equipped to be entrusted with the moral upbringing of a new baby but there was no backing out now.

  “Will you pray for her, draw her by your example into the community of faith and walk with her in the way of Christ?”

  “With the help of God we will.”

  July 1922

  The intervening weeks had been relentless and tiring. Alice found being a mother was difficult and had developed what the doctor called ‘post natal depression’. She spent much of her time in bed with Jack looking after her. In the first few weeks after the birth, Jed had taken considerable time off work to care for ‘Evie’ (as she was now called) and had bonded closely with her. But then things started to go wrong at work. Supplies weren’t ordered on time and the schedule began to fall behind. The chief engineer paid more regular visits to the site and grumbled increasingly about short comings. Eventually, Jed had to return to full time work and a live in nurse from Norwich was hired to care for Evie. This, of course, meant that Jed had to give up his room again and was relegated back to the workshop.

  Miss Cavendish, the nurse, was a substantial lady in her late fifties. She was undoubtedly capable but had about her the aura of a hospital matron. She had a tendency to issue orders and offend. Her wardrobe consisted entirely of brown clothes – brown smock, brown cardigan and brown stockings. Under her regime, life at Hope Cottage took on a distinctly subdued quality.

  The arrival of Miss Cavendish meant that Jed was able to focus full time on the Maltings restoration. The inside was now taking visible shape with a concert stage erected at one end of the hall and a foyer under construction facing onto the town square. Annoyingly for Jed, a different type of visitor had now started to turn up. He had just about got used to the gruff interventions of the chief engineer and his team but the new arrivals were here to plan the grand opening ceremony. A date had been fixed for September 23rd and the town’s newly formed cultural committee was busy inviting local groups to participate. Jed, therefore, had to deal with a trail of aspiring artists picking their way through the building rubble as he strove to catch up with the agreed schedule. There was the leader of the town’s wind band, the head of the WI’s regional choir, a newly formed girls dance troupe and someone who
claimed he had once performed in front of the cameras in Hollywood.

  But in spite of all this activity and the expansion of his business, Jed felt an emptiness in his life. Alice’s illness meant that she spent much of her time in bed and there had for long been an unspoken agreement that her bedroom was out of bounds to Jed. Regular hot meals were a thing of the past and Jed had got used to catering for himself now. He missed the opportunity to talk to Alice and was jealous of the time she spent shut away with Jack.

  His thoughts turned once more to Flora. He had tried to put her out of his mind following the angry confrontation with her father. There seemed little he could do if she was pregnant. He couldn’t prove that Jack was the father and didn’t know for certain that he was. He couldn’t offer Flora a home and couldn’t let her into the terrible secret about the paternity of his own child. But still he felt a horrible sense of guilt, witnessing the rape yet doing nothing about it.

  He had found out that pregnant unmarried mothers were often taken to the asylum which lay in the countryside between Norwich and North Walsham. The vast house, known as Manston Hall, had once been the country residence of an aristocratic family but with their demise in the 1880s it had been taken over as a refuge for the mentally ill and others that society wished to be kept out of sight.

  One Friday afternoon he allowed himself to take a half day off work and drive out in the Austin truck to find Manston Hall. It was a fresh late July day with sunny spells giving way to short sharp showers. After turning off the main A149 at Thorpe Market, he found himself driving along narrow leafy lanes that were difficult for the truck to navigate. Its height caused it to frequently dislodge overhanging branches and to leave a trail of broken debris behind. Jed almost missed the sign to the Hall. It was nothing more than a small wooden plaque attached to a stone wall. A covering of moss made it difficult to read.

  He swung the truck into the drive, past two ancient brick posts with rusting gates that had long since ceased to close. The drive wound through rough pasture on either side with little evidence of any serious farming. Finally, Manston Hall came into sight, an enormous stone edifice with tall chimneys reaching into the summer sky. Two cars were parked outside the front but otherwise there was no sign of life. Jed felt the presence of the truck there might seem out of place so he parked it to the side of the building.

  The entrance was up a sweeping flight of stone steps that had perhaps once been grand. Now, flagstones were loose and missing in places. The balustrades were grimy and cracked.

  Jed made his way up the steps and into a large foyer. It was sparsely furnished and offered no signs of welcome. Noises and shouting echoed from distant parts of the building. Jed stood awkwardly, wondering what to do next. Then a nurse appeared, heading with determination for another door. She was dressed in a starched blue uniform with a white apron.

  “Excuse me,” said Jed, trying to attract her attention.

  She didn’t respond so he moved rapidly towards her and placed his hand on her arm.

  “Get off me at once!” she retorted. “I’ll call for help if you touch me again.”

  “I only wanted to know who I could speak to. There’s nobody here to ask.”

  “We don’t allow visitors, not without prior approval. Who are you?”

  “My name’s Jed, Jed Carter. I’ve come here to find a friend. Her name’s Flora Fulton. Is she here?”

  “We’re not allowed to give out information, not unless you’re family. You’re not family are you?”

  “I’m her friend. I just want to find her and help her.”

  “Stay there,” retorted the nurse abruptly and then disappeared through a nearby door.

  Jed remained in the unwelcoming hall, staring up at what had once been a grand staircase leading to the upper floors of the house. He wondered when the walls had last vibrated to the sound of laughter and merriment – distant echoes in a building that was now cloaked in melancholy.

  He waited for what seemed like ages before another door opened and an older uniformed woman appeared. She carried with her the aura of authority.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’ve come to enquire after Flora Fulton. She’s a friend.”

  “What makes you think she’s here?”

  “I think she might have been expecting a baby. She wasn’t married. I’ve been told that girls in that situation are brought here.”

  “Are you the father?”

  “No, no, I’m not.”

  “Do you know who is?”

  “I can’t really say. I mean, I don’t know.”

  “Young women who come here when they are pregnant come here because no one else will have them. There’s no father to take responsibility and no family to take care of them. No friends to help them. They come here because society wants them out of the way. Forget about your friend. You must pretend she doesn’t exist – has never existed.”

  “How dare you! Flora does exist. She’s as real as you and me and I’m going to find her.”

  But the uniformed woman turned and disappeared back through the door. Jed rushed to prevent her leaving but the door had closed and was locked from the far side. He kicked at the door and shouted, his protestations echoing round the great hall like disembodied voices. Eventually, he left the gloom of the hall and made his way out into the sunshine. He felt angry and guilty – angry at the way he had been treated and guilty because he knew that what she said was true. Flora had been abandoned by her friends, all of them too intent on building their own lives to get involved.

  As he rounded the corner of the house and headed towards the truck, a small side door opened revealing a girl, possibly in her early twenties, dressed in white overalls. It wasn’t the uniform of a nurse but she may have been a kitchen maid or a servant of some kind. Jed stopped and looked at her. She was standing in the shadow of the doorway with her eyes cast down.

  “I knew Flora,” said the girl in a weak voice. “She was here. She was very nice.”

  “How did you know her? Were you her friend? Are you a patient here too?”

  “It doesn’t matter who I am.”

  “Then do you know where she is now?” pleaded Jed.

  “I only know that she was sent away after she had the baby – a baby girl. That’s what they do here – send them into service.”

  “How was she? Was she well?”

  “She was happy to have the baby but I knew she was sad. I think she’d just sort of given in.”

  “And you don’t know where they sent her?”

  “No. You won’t find her. They give them a new identity. I must go now. I’ve said too much.”

  “Wait!”

  But she had already slipped back through the door – engulfed by the morbidity of the building.

  Saturday, 23rd September

  It was a day that Jed would never forget. The whole town had taken on a carnival atmosphere to celebrate the opening of the Maltings. Jack, Alice and Jed were in the town square by two o’clock and had prime positions to watch the carnival procession that would lead the mayor and his entourage to the opening ceremony. Evie was with them too, cooing happily in her perambulator which was a present from Jack to celebrate her birth.

  Jed was brimming with pride as people who knew him came to offer their congratulations. From the outside, the Maltings had been transformed from a derelict barn into an impressive public venue, complete with theatre style foyer. To one side was a new tea room which doubled as a bar when productions were being staged.

  Alice stood close to Jed, basking in the reflected glory of the occasion. It felt to Jed as if Alice and he belonged together again. What he had achieved in two years would have been unimaginable when they got married. He knew that Alice was proud to be by his side and he felt things were finally beginning to go his way. A shout from Jack drew his attention.

  Standing by his side, Alice felt that she shared in Jed’s success. She had been the power behind him, urging him to raise his prospects wit
h Dan and to take on the business when he died. She had been responsible for introducing Jack to Jed. Without Jack’s investment and business know how, none of this would have happened. Certainly their family arrangement was unusual but, if it worked, who cared? The call from Jack sounded urgent.

  “Have you got Evie? I can’t see the pram. Is she with you?”

  Alice’s blood turned cold. She had left Evie with Jack.

  The crowd erupted into applause as the brass band approached, followed by the mayor and councillors dressed in their gowns of office.

  Jed pushed his way to the back of the crowd. “Evie was with you, Jack. Alice asked you to keep an eye on the pram.”

  “I did. I just left her for a moment to watch the band. When I turned back she’d gone.”

  Alice reached them and screamed. Jack caught her as she began to fall. Jed looked up and down the street. Everyone was straining to see the band and procession. The noise of the cheering crowd was deafening. He took a chance and raced towards one end of the square. There were only a few people here, mostly latecomers hurrying towards the parade. There was no sign of Evie. He was seized with panic wondering which way to go. Then he realised he was standing by the entrance to Threshers Cut, the narrow alley that led to the yard where Dan’s workshop had been. He prayed his hunch was right and headed off as fast as he could down the alley. He soon found himself in the yard, empty save for a tethered horse and a stray dog. The yard was a dead end, except for a hole in the fence which was used as a short cut to a street of derelict cottages. Jed raced to the hole and stared at the street beyond. At one end, he thought he saw a figure turning a corner into the next road. Gathering his strength, he forced himself to run faster than ever before. At the next turning, he saw the figure clearly now about a hundred yards ahead. He ran forward yelling, trying to attract their attention. The fugitive turned and saw him then started running with the pram. Jed picked up a stone from the gutter. Praying that he could repeat his triumph at the fairground, he hurled the stone. It hit the person squarely between the shoulders and brought them tumbling to the ground. Jed raced up to where they were lying and saw it was a young woman, wrapped in a shawl, almost certainly one of the gypsies camped on the common.