Whispers of Love

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by Whispers of Love (retail) (epub)


  ‘We do understand that, Matron, and we greatly appreciate your understanding and cooperation,’ Lewis told her gravely.

  The moment they were outside Hilbury, Christabel let out a long sigh of relief. ‘You did that so well, Lewis, that I almost believed Mother really was ill,’ she congratulated him.

  ‘Be that as it may, I can’t say that I am very proud of what I have done. I am not at all sure that I am doing the right thing in aiding and abetting you in this matter. What are we going to do at Christmas? Mother will be expecting you home for at least a visit, so how are you going to deal with that?’

  ‘In the same way as we’re dealing with things now.’

  Lewis frowned. ‘I don’t understand?’

  ‘I’m relying on you to explain to Mother that there has been an epidemic or a rush of casualties, and that I am needed at the hospital and am unable to get any time off.’

  ‘That’s all very well, Christabel, but with only Lilian still at home, it’s going to be a rather quiet Christmas for them. They’re bound to miss you.’

  ‘Then you must make sure that they don’t. You and Violet will have to visit them a little more often and make sure they aren’t lonely.’

  ‘That may not be as easy as it sounds,’ he grumbled. ‘Remember, Violet will be heavily pregnant by then and she will probably want to rest a great deal.’

  ‘So will I,’ she reminded him. ‘At least she won’t have to hide away and be cut off from all her friends and family,’ she added pointedly.

  When he didn’t answer she slipped her arm through his and squeezed it affectionately as they reached the railway station. ‘You have found me somewhere to live, haven’t you?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘It’s in Wilcock Court off Scotland Road. It’s only one room and it’s on the second floor and not very salubrious. I’ve rented it in your name; well, that is, as Mrs Montgomery, and I’ve paid four months’ rent in advance.’

  ‘Oh Lewis, thank you!’ she said, relieved. ‘Mrs Montgomery,’ she looked up at him and laughed, ‘so I’m married, am I?’

  ‘It was impossible to find anyone willing to let a room to a single lady,’ he told her as they boarded a train for Liverpool Exchange. ‘As far as the landlady is aware, I am your husband and I’ve told her that I am about to go to sea and will be away for several months. Her name, by the way, is Maggie Nelson. She’s a rather rough sort of character, but then so are most of the landladies in that area.’

  ‘Have you told her I’m pregnant?’

  ‘No, I thought perhaps it was better not to do that in case she refused me the room. As a rule they don’t want crying babies, if it can be helped.’

  ‘It won’t take her long to find out, though. There will be one quite soon, won’t there?’ Christabel sighed, rubbing her hand over her extended stomach.

  ‘When she does, then you can let her know that it won’t be any problem because you have been booked into a private clinic to have the baby. When you come home afterwards without the baby, you can always say it has died or something. I’m sure you are capable of making up a suitable story.’

  ‘Yes, and then I will be packing my bags and telling Mrs Maggie Nelson that I am going home to my mother until you come home from your unknown destination,’ Christabel told him.

  ‘Good, that’s all settled and clear in both our minds,’ Lewis agreed.

  ‘You haven’t told me about the clinic yet,’ Christabel reminded him as they left the Exchange and started to walk towards Scotland Road.

  ‘I’ve written down all the details. They want you to go along sometime before you are due to give birth to provide them with various details. Don’t forget, you are also booked in there as Mrs Montgomery,’ he added.

  As they left the busy office area behind, Christabel noticed the streets were becoming shabbier, and when they turned into Wilcock Court, she drew in a sharp breath of dismay because there was such an air of gloom and neglect over the place.

  It was mid-afternoon; most men were still at work, but there seemed to be women clustered together on every doorstep. A few were shouting at children who were playing in the gutter, or swinging from ropes tied to a lamp post, but most were simply talking to each other and the majority of them looked unkempt and even dirty to her fastidious eye.

  ‘Surely this isn’t where the room is?’ she asked in alarm.

  ‘I told you it wasn’t very salubrious,’ Lewis retorted in a disgruntled tone.

  ‘Which house belongs to Maggie Nelson?’

  ‘It’s the end one,’ he stated, ‘and since there’s no one standing outside gossiping, maybe she doesn’t fraternise with her neighbours very much.’

  To Christabel’s relief the heavily built middle-aged woman who answered the door to them looked reasonably clean and wholesome in her dark dress and clean floral apron.

  ‘This way Mr and Mrs Montgomery,’ she invited.

  She led them up the stairs and along a narrow landing to a medium-sized room that contained a narrow bed and wardrobe at one end and an armchair and a round wooden table and two straight-backed chairs at the other. Across one corner was a dark red cotton curtain which she pulled to one side to reveal a work shelf with narrower shelves above it containing an assortment of cups, saucers, plates and tins for storage. On the main shelf there was a gas ring, a tin kettle and a washing-up bowl; underneath the shelf were two buckets, one containing fresh water.

  ‘There you are, everything you need,’ she said proudly. ‘You can refill the bucket with water from the tap in my kitchen whenever you need to do so. The other bucket is for your rubbish and you bring that down and tip it into the bin out in the back yard. By the way, that’s where the lavatory is. You’ll have to go through my kitchen to get out of the backdoor,’ she added as an afterthought.

  ‘I see. I hope that’s not too inconvenient,’ Christabel murmured.

  ‘It hasn’t got to be, has it?’ Mrs Nelson answered tartly. ‘That’s the way it is and I’ve been letting rooms out for so long now that I’m used to it. Anyway,’ she went on, ‘I’ll leave the pair of you to settle in. You won’t be staying as well, will you, Mr Montgomery?’ She frowned, looking over at the narrow bed.

  ‘No no,’ Lewis said hastily, taking out his watch from his waistcoat pocket and consulting it. ‘I have to return to my base, I must leave quite soon.’

  ‘Then in that case, I’ll leave the two of you to say goodbye. I hope Mrs Montgomery will be very comfortable here once she’s settled in.’

  The moment the door closed behind Mrs Nelson, Lewis handed Christabel the details of the private clinic. As he buttoned up his coat and prepared to leave he made her promise to go along there as they’d requested.

  ‘Of course I will, but there’s no hurry. It’s ages and ages away so stop worrying. When am I going to see you again?’

  ‘I’m not going to call here again. You heard what I said to Mrs Nelson, I have to report to my base. That means I am leaving Liverpool right away.’

  ‘Yes, but we must meet up from time to time, Lewis,’ she begged. ‘I’m going to be terribly lonely. I’ll want to know what is happening at home and surely you will want to know that I am all right.’

  ‘It will be difficult, Christabel. I’ve done what you asked me to do; I’ve found you a room and booked you into a clinic. The rest is up to you. If you don’t like being cut off from me and the rest of the family, then you should have done as I suggested in the first place and taken Mother or Philip’s parents into your confidence. If you’d done that, then you could have gone home and spent the next few months in comfort instead of in this horrible place.’

  ‘What happens when I actually go into the clinic, after the baby is born, I mean? Are you going to be there to arrange all the legal details and deal with all the papers that will have to be signed if it is to be adopted?’

  ‘I’ll try to be there but, remember, I have Violet to consider too. Our baby is due at the same time and she must be my first p
riority.’

  He held out his arms to Christabel and hugged her close. ‘I’m sorry little sister, but you must see that I am being torn in two over this. That’s why I wish you had been more open about it and confided in Mother.’

  ‘That was quite out of the question,’ Christabel said determinedly, pulling away from him. ‘I understand it makes things difficult for you, Lewis, and I do appreciate all that you have done for me,’ she told him, smiling wanly. ‘You will try and see me, even if it is only occasionally?’ she persisted anxiously. ‘I’m so scared Lewis,’ she added tearfully. ‘Couldn’t we meet in the park now and again, perhaps in St John’s Gardens; that’s not very far from here, is it?’

  ‘Very well, I’ll try and do that.’

  ‘When?’ Her face brightened. ‘Can we meet there regularly? Perhaps once a week?’

  ‘No, that is far too risky. I’ll meet you there in two weeks’ time and we’ll see how that goes,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll try and be there at one o’clock and, with any luck, Father won’t notice my absence from the office. If he does, I will have the excuse that it is my lunch hour and that I’m doing some shopping or something for Violet.’

  Chapter Five

  Christabel felt utterly desolate after Lewis had left. She sat down on the edge of the narrow bed and looked around in dismay. This was to be her home for at least the next three months and already she not only hated its drab appearance but also felt claustrophobic there. She wished she could afford new curtains or a new rug to brighten the place up but since she was no longer earning and in future, once she’d spent her meagre savings, would have to rely on Lewis for every penny she spent she knew she couldn’t afford them.

  Rousing herself, she went to look in the curtained-off corner that acted as a kitchen to see if there was any tea and milk to make herself a drink. The place was completely bare. Shocked, she went back and sat on the bed and tried to think what she must do. Although it was already dusk outside it meant she would have to venture out to buy some supplies otherwise she would have to go hungry until the next day and she was now starving as she’d missed out on lunch.

  She walked across to the window, rubbed a space clear on the glass, and stared out. The fog that had been threatening earlier had closed in and the women who had been standing out in the court gossiping had gone inside. There were only one or two older children still out playing.

  Taking a deep breath, she picked up her purse and decided she would have to go and do some shopping. Mrs Nelson came out into the hallway when she was halfway down the stairs.

  ‘Going out, Mrs Montgomery?’ she said in surprise.

  ‘I need to buy some food and things,’ Christabel explained.

  ‘Oh, well, if it’s a pinch of tea and a spot of milk, I can let you have those, enough to last you until morning.’

  ‘No, I need several other things as well,’ Christabel told her.

  ‘You mean to make a meal for tonight? Remember, you only have a gas ring to do your cooking on, so you won’t be able to do much more than boil up some potatoes or make a drop of soup. If you want anything cooked, then you’d better bring it down to me and I’ll put it in my oven for you,’ she added.

  ‘How very kind of you, Mrs Nelson, I’ll remember that.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I have some scouse simmering away on the hob right now and I’ll be happy to share a bowlful with you,’ Maggie Nelson went on. ‘It will be far better than for you to go out foraging at this time of night. I can tell you the best places to shop and it will be a sight easier to find them in the daylight than it is in this fog.’

  ‘Well . . .’ Christabel hesitated. She did feel scared of venturing out and wasn’t even too sure if she would be able to find the shops or even find her way back to Wilcock Court afterwards.

  ‘You go on back up to your room and have a rest and come down about six o’clock and I’ll have it all ready on the table for you. If you’d like a cup of tea now to keep you going until then, there’s one already brewed and I don’t mind if you drink it down here in my kitchen or take it back upstairs with you.’

  ‘I’ll take it upstairs with me, if you don’t mind, thank you, Mrs Nelson.’ Christabel smiled.

  When she came back down a couple of hours later, Christabel was surprised to find how tasty the scouse Mrs Nelson served was and how cosy it was in her landlady’s kitchen.

  She had never in her life had to cook for herself and she had no idea how to go about preparing a meal like the one she’d just enjoyed so, having thanked Mrs Nelson and praised her cooking, she suggested that she might like to provide her with a cooked meal every evening.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ Mrs Nelson exclaimed. ‘I always cook something for myself, so I suppose it wouldn’t be too much trouble,’ she added thoughtfully.

  ‘I’ll pay you of course,’ Christabel told her quickly.

  ‘Not used to looking after yourself then, is that it?’ Mrs Nelson queried.

  ‘No, not really. Apart from that, as you already said, it won’t be easy to cook very much on a gas ring.’

  ‘I also said I would be willing to pop anything you wanted roasting or baking into my oven,’ Mrs Nelson reminded her.

  ‘It mightn’t always be convenient for you to do that, though,’ Christabel pointed out.

  ‘No, that’s true enough,’ Mrs Nelson agreed as she reached out and took Christabel’s empty plate and carried it over to the brownstone sink.

  ‘Would you like a helping of pudding?’ she asked as she lifted a dish of Apple Charlotte out of the oven.

  As they ate, Mrs Nelson expounded on the theory of providing Christabel with a regular meal. She pointed out that it would mean extra shopping and that she would need to know if there were any foods that Christabel didn’t like. By the time Christabel went back up to her room, however, a deal had been made.

  With hardly any shopping necessary, no cooking and very little cleaning to do, Christabel found it difficult to occupy her time until her baby was born because she had no money to spend on entertainment, and was now paying Mrs Nelson for her meals.

  After she’d attended the clinic as Lewis had told her she must, and made quite sure that they understood that she wanted to have the baby adopted the moment it was born, she didn’t see the necessity to buy a layette for the child. Anyway, she told herself, she couldn’t afford to buy wool for knitting and she wasn’t much good at sewing.

  Wilcock Court was only a couple of turnings away from Scotland Road where there were plenty of shops and a large market but they were not the sort that interested her. Most days, she made her way to the city centre and walked around the shops there, making sure that she avoided the really high-class stores like Henderson and George Henry Lee and the fashionable places in Bold Street, in case she bumped into her mother or someone who knew her.

  She usually settled for a coffee and a snack in a Lyons Corner House or the Kardomah Café at lunchtime, just enough to keep her going until the evening when Mrs Nelson would have a hot meal waiting for her.

  Sometimes in the afternoons, if it was very cold or raining, she went to a matinee, sitting in the cheapest of the seats.

  It was warm in the cinema and watching what was happening on the flickering screen took her mind off her own plight. She watched anything and everything. When it was a romantic film it sometimes brought back so many memories of Philip that she had to walk out.

  Even though she’d hardened her heart to the past, she knew she was still vulnerable. She was also racked with guilt about what he would think about her giving up their baby. There were days when she worried deeply about this and wondered if perhaps Lewis had been right when he’d wanted her to tell her mother, but she knew she hadn’t the strength to face up to her father’s wrath. Perhaps, if she had told Hilda Henderson, she would have understood. As Lewis had said, it was their grandchild, after all, and once they were over the shock of what had happened they would have helped her.

  As Christmas ap
proached she felt homesick. She was also worried that her mother might not believe Lewis when he told her that because they’d received so many casualties at Hilbury after the terrible British defeat at the battle of Ypres, she wouldn’t be able to come home for Christmas.

  However, the newspapers were so full of reports concerning what had happened at Ypres, and how the British soldiers were digging themselves into the trenches on the Western Front, that both Mabel and Basil accepted what Lewis said.

  ‘It’s going to be a very quiet Christmas for them with only Lilian there,’ Lewis told her as they sat in a Lyons Corner House catching up on what was happening in the family.

  ‘Not really, you and Violet will be there for Christmas Dinner,’ Christabel pointed out.

  ‘I’m not too sure about that, it will depend very much on how Violet is. She doesn’t really feel well enough to go visiting. Unlike you, she has to spend a great deal of her time resting in bed.’

  ‘At least she is in her own home and can fill in her time doing things that interest her. I have to exist in a pokey little room where it’s impossible to even cook my own meals,’ Christabel grumbled. ‘What’s more, it’s in such a horrible, slummy area that I am almost too scared to go out. In the evenings, all I can do is sit and read and the newspaper is full of dreadful accounts of what is happening to our soldiers who are at the Front.’

  ‘Really?’ He looked surprised. ‘Violet is always knitting or sewing things for the baby when she feels well enough to do so.’

  ‘There’s no point in me doing that, is there, since I am not going to be bringing my baby home. You have made all that clear to the clinic, haven’t you, Lewis? I am counting on you being there to deal with all the paperwork immediately the baby is born.’

  ‘Don’t worry, the matron at the clinic will let me know as soon as you go into labour and I promise I’ll do my utmost to be there,’ he told her stiffly. ‘I still don’t agree with what you are doing because I still feel that you should go home and tell Mother that you are expecting a baby, but if you are sure it is what you want, then I will stand by your decision,’ he told her abruptly, pushing back his chair and standing up to leave.

 

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