Emma's War

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘Sheila came to see me yesterday,’ Annie said when she invited me in that weekend. ‘She looked dreadful, Emma, really ill. You know about the abortion, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ I frowned as Annie looked disapproving. ‘It is horrible, but I couldn’t tell her not to do it. She thinks it’s all going to work out with Todd this time. I suppose it is a chance for her to make something of her life.’

  ‘It’s murder, that’s what I told her,’ Annie said. ‘I’ve told her I don’t want to see her again. Not after what she’s done.’

  I was sorry Annie felt that way, but she was adamant.

  ‘What is happening to Lizzy?’ I asked. ‘Did Sheila want you to take her?’

  ‘I told her I couldn’t, not unless she paid me regular money for her keep. I’m fond of the child, Emma, but I’ve three of my own to feed, and that’s not easy. I shall manage a little better with the job you’ve promised me, but if I had Lizzy I couldn’t do it. She’s not four yet. Not old enough to go to school.’

  ‘Do you think Todd knows about her?’

  ‘No, I’m sure he doesn’t. She never brought him here, it wasn’t good enough for her.’

  ‘What will she do with Lizzy then?’

  ‘She said she didn’t want me to have her anyway,’ Annie replied with a shrug. ‘Said she’d got plans for Lizzy – that she was going somewhere she would have a chance of a better life.’

  ‘I wonder what she meant by that?’

  ‘I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me, but she looked sort of pleased with herself – as though she knew something I didn’t.’

  Annie couldn’t tell me any more. I worried about it as I walked home that evening. Lizzy was such a beautiful little girl with dark brown hair that curled naturally and grey eyes. I would hate to think of her ending up in a home for orphans, even if it was a good one.

  Perhaps Sheila might let me help her find someone to help care for Lizzy? I decided to visit the cafe again, and see if I could talk to Sheila about her plans for her daughter.

  I went several times over the next few days, but I didn’t see Sheila there once. She seemed to have vanished, and I wondered if she had gone off with Todd. Perhaps we were worrying for nothing, perhaps she had taken Lizzy with her.

  Chapter 12

  I came out of the doctor’s surgery one morning a week or so after my visit to Annie, feeling bewildered and stunned. His words had shocked me so deeply that at first I had struggled to take them in.

  ‘Because of some injury to your womb when your son was born, it is unlikely that you will easily conceive another child. I’m not saying it is impossible, Mrs Reece, merely that it will take some time for your body to heal, though of course it may do so in time.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you’re saying …’ I had stared at him in shock. ‘Will I ever be able to give my husband a child?’

  ‘Miracles do happen, Mrs Reece. You need not give up all hope just yet, but I must warn you there is a strong possibility that you will not conceive again.’

  How I managed to answer him I would never know. I was close to tears, my chest painfully tight. Never to have Jack’s child! It was so hurtful that I scarcely knew how to bear the pain. I had never considered the possibility that James’s premature birth had damaged me inside. My doctor had not mentioned anything at the time, and we had all been too relieved that my son was healthy to think about what it had done to me. Now I felt devastated.

  I had dreamed of the life I would have with Jack, of the children we would share. How would Jack feel about things? He loved me, but he also loved children. He might never reproach me, but he would feel it – just as Sol had.

  Sol loved Margaret, but their marriage was incomplete because they were unable to have a child. I knew that her failure was a festering sore in Margaret’s breast, a wound that would never heal.

  Now, for the first time, I began to really understand how she felt.

  I walked about for the rest of that day in a kind of daze. I was hurt, bewildered, angry. Richard Gillows had brought on my son’s premature birth by his brutal attack on me. It was almost as if I could hear him laughing, as if he had taken his revenge on me from beyond the grave.

  Margaret asked me what was wrong when I had tea with her later. I could not tell her the truth, because I knew it would hurt her almost as much as it was hurting me.

  ‘I haven’t been able to find Sheila,’ I said to excuse my distress. ‘I keep wondering what is going to happen to Lizzy. I told you Sheila was going to marry an American, didn’t I?’ Margaret nodded. ‘Well, he doesn’t know about her daughter. I’m afraid Sheila might put her in a home or something.’

  ‘Surely she couldn’t just abandon her own child?’ Margaret looked upset by the idea. She was silent for a moment, thoughtful, then raised her gaze to meet mine. ‘If Sheila doesn’t want Lizzy … we could have her here, Emma.’

  ‘Would you really let me bring the child here?’

  ‘Yes, of course. You know I would, Emma.’

  We smiled at each other.

  ‘Then I’ll go to the cafe again tomorrow …’

  ‘What’s wrong, Emma?’ Pamela asked that evening. ‘You’ve been staring at that slice of bread for the past five minutes.’

  We were in the kitchens of the social club. I had kept my secret from Margaret, but suddenly I discovered that silent tears were running down my cheeks. Pamela came to me, putting her arm about my waist and looking at me in concern.

  ‘Is it bad news, Emma?’

  I nodded, fumbled for my handkerchief and blew my nose, telling myself not to be so silly.

  ‘Not Jack. Nothing like that … it’s just that I’ve been to see a specialist. A doctor … he says I may not be able to have more children because of something that went wrong when James was born. It seems there may be some scarring …’

  ‘Oh, poor Emma,’ Pamela said, her eyes meeting mine in sympathy and understanding. ‘That’s so upsetting. I know just how you feel. My Tom and me, well, we tried for five years before the war, but it just didn’t happen. I thought about going to the doctor, but Tom said I had to be patient. If it was our destiny not to have children then we had to accept it …’ She sighed. ‘My sister says I’m lucky. She’s got four and it has been a dreadful struggle for her. I wouldn’t have minded just the one though.’ She gave me a squeeze. ‘At least you’ve got your James. You are very lucky, Emma.’

  ‘Yes.’ I swallowed hard. I knew what she was saying was true. I was lucky in so many ways. ‘Yes, I’ve got James. I know I’m fortunate. I’m sorry you didn’t get your baby, Pam, but perhaps you will when Tom comes home.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps.’ She smiled but I saw the echoes of my own sadness in her eyes. ‘When Tom comes home …’

  I made a determined effort to put my disappointment behind me. I had so much to be thankful for, and it would be wrong to give way to self pity. Besides, the doctor hadn’t said I definitely couldn’t have another baby, only that it was unlikely.

  I began spreading margarine on the bread again; then I glanced at Pamela. She was perhaps ten years older than me, in her early thirties, but I liked working with her. She was a pleasant, friendly woman. Until now, our friendship had never gone beyond meeting at the social club, but there was no reason why it shouldn’t.

  ‘I’m going to take James to the park if it’s fine tomorrow afternoon,’ I said. ‘Would you like to meet me and then come back to the house for tea?’

  Pamela glanced up, staring at me in surprise. Her pale skin was slightly flushed but she looked pleased.

  ‘I would enjoy that, Emma. It’s very kind of you to ask me.’

  ‘I should enjoy your company,’ I said. ‘And Margaret always loves to have visitors.’

  I felt better somehow after that. Doctors weren’t always right. Besides, James thought of Jack as his daddy so perhaps it wouldn’t matter if I couldn’t give Jack a son of his own.

  ‘You should see what Gwen has done with your fathe
r’s shop,’ my mother said when she rang me the next morning. ‘I can’t believe it’s the same place.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Oh no,’ she said at once. ‘Quite the opposite. It’s really nice now, Emma. She’s put the spirits behind the counter, and she’s got a corner specially for the children, just where she can keep an eye on them – and she’s just had some lovely cards in, for birthdays and anniversaries. Now she’s started to sell cottons for sewing and embroidery.’

  ‘We’ve never sold those before.’

  ‘It’s so nice to go in and have a chat,’ Mum said. ‘And I’m not the only one who thinks so. I was talking to Mary Edwards the other day – Mary Baker as was, you remember her?’

  ‘Of course I remember Mary. She was always one of my best friends.’

  ‘Mary asked after you when we met in the shop. She’d popped in to buy a card for someone. We had quite a long talk … she said she hadn’t heard from you for ages.’

  ‘I always send her a card at Christmas.’

  ‘That’s hardly enough, Emma. You should make time to see her when you come down next – When are you coming? It’s months since you were here.’

  ‘I’ve been saving my petrol ration. It isn’t easy to get extra these days. I’ll try to get down again soon, I promise.’

  ‘I shouldn’t grumble at you, Emma. I know how busy you are. It’s a wonder to me that you have any time for yourself.’

  ‘I will come soon,’ I promised her. ‘And if you see Mary, tell her I’ll pop in while I’m there.’

  ‘Good. Mary is a nice person, Emma. She’s got two little girls as you know, and expects her third child this summer. You did know her husband was sent home wounded last winter? Well, he is a worry to her, and she was telling me how difficult it is to buy children’s things in March. She’s not much good at sewing. I told her to buy the material and I’ll make the dresses. She was so pleased. She said she remembered how pretty the dresses I used to make you always looked.’

  ‘You should start up a business, Mum.’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t want to do that. I’m not like you, Emma, always on the go, thinking of something new to fill your time. You must get your drive from your father. Besides, I don’t want the work. I’m doing it for Mary because I like her. She brings the children to visit sometimes, and it’s nice making little treats for them. I don’t get much chance to do it for your son.’

  I was thoughtful after my mother’s phone call. If Mary found it difficult to buy children’s clothes in the town, then others must have the same problem. I would have to talk to Madge about it. She might be interested in stocking a few dresses for young girls this summer.

  ‘I have enjoyed myself,’ Pamela said as we walked home from the park that afternoon, both of us holding on to one of James’s hands to stop him from darting off somewhere. ‘It was lovely, Emma.’

  ‘I was glad you were there. James is so excitable, it takes all my time to watch him.’

  My son had chased after the ducks at the edge of the pond, patted every stray dog that came within range, and almost fallen in the lake as he reached for his toy yacht, which had gone out a little too far. Nothing out of the usual. He spent so much time at home in the nursery or in our tiny garden, that when he came to the park he went wild. I couldn’t blame him. He still remembered those carefree days of the previous summer when he had roamed the Sussex countryside with Jack.

  I was pleased I’d asked Pamela to come to the park and not just to tea. Like most of my friends, she had fallen under my son’s spell and was prepared to spoil him. The chocolate bars she’d bought for him must have taken her sweet rations for the week at least.

  We were laughing as we went into the house together. Mrs Rowan gave me a speaking look as she came out to the hall to greet us and take our coats.

  ‘Mrs Gould is in the parlour,’ she said in an odd tone. ‘There is a person with her …’

  ‘A visitor?’ Something in the housekeeper’s manner alerted me. ‘Is something wrong, Mrs Rowan?’

  ‘I’m sure it’s not for me to say, Mrs Reece.’ She sniffed in evident disapproval. ‘Shall I take Master James up to the nursery for you?’

  ‘Yes, please do.’

  I was intrigued. Mrs Rowan quite clearly did not approve of our visitor. Who could it be?

  I paused on the threshold of Margaret’s sitting room. A young woman I had never seen before was perched on the edge of the sofa, and a small girl stood beside her. The child was crying, her face stained with tears.

  ‘Lizzy …’ My heart jerked with fright. Why was Sheila’s child here? ‘What’s wrong? Where is Lizzy’s mother?’

  The young woman turned to stare at me. She was wearing rouge and lipstick, but did not look more than sixteen years old. I had a sudden intuition that she must be one of the prostitutes with whom Sheila had lived and worked for a while these past months.

  ‘You must be Emma,’ she said and stood up. She seemed ill at ease but defiant. ‘I’ve been waiting for you. Sheila said I was to bring the child and this letter – and I was to see you got it yourself.’

  ‘Where is Sheila?’

  ‘She’s gone. She went off with her bloke, said she couldn’t look after Lizzy no more and that I was to bring her here.’

  I took the rather grubby envelope she offered and slit it open.

  ‘You still owe me, Emma.’ Sheila had written the letter in a bold, challenging hand.

  You said you would help if I asked, so I’m sending Lizzy to you. It’s up to you what you do with her. You can shove her in a home or keep her yourself. As far as I’m concerned, she’s your responsibility now.

  Enclosed with the letter was Lizzy’s birth certificate and some margarine coupons.

  Having read it twice to be certain I understood fully, I handed the letter to Margaret, then remembered my guest.

  ‘Sit down, Pam,’ I said, realizing she was still hovering, uncertain of what to do. ‘We’ll soon sort this out and then we’ll have our tea.’ I glanced at the young woman who had brought Lizzy to us. ‘May we offer you something?’

  She shook her head, her eyes sharp with suspicion. ‘What are you going to do with the kid?’

  ‘Lizzy has come to stay with us for a while,’ I replied. I smiled at the little girl, who was still weeping. ‘Are you hungry, darling?’ She nodded and I knelt down on the carpet in front of her, taking her little hands in mine. ‘Would you like a biscuit?’ Her eyes widened in anticipation of such a treat. ‘A nice one with chocolate on it?’

  ‘Yes …’

  ‘Yes please,’ the young woman said. ‘You know what your mother said before she went. Be good or the lady won’t keep you.’

  I saw the fear in Lizzy’s eyes and was angry.

  ‘I think you can safely leave Lizzy’s welfare to us now,’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘I’ll show you to the door, Miss … I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.’

  ‘You don’t need to know it,’ she muttered, glaring at me. ‘All right, I’ll go. I know when I’m not wanted.’

  ‘It was kind of you to bring Lizzy,’ I replied. I opened my handbag, which lay on the sideboard, took out a pound note and gave it to her. ‘That’s to say thank you for your trouble.’

  She stared at the money as if she wanted to refuse, then almost snatched it from my hand. ‘I can find my own way out, and don’t worry. I shan’t steal anything.’

  I let her go without replying. She wore her resentment like chainmail. There was no point in trying to get through to her.

  ‘Well …’ Pamela said as the door closed behind her with a snap. ‘What a rude young woman.’

  ‘Yes, she was rather,’ Margaret said and handed the letter back to me with a meaningful look. ‘I should keep that somewhere safe, Emma. You may need it one day.’

  ‘Yes, I had thought that,’ I agreed. ‘We’ll talk later, Margaret. I think we should all have tea now, don’t you?’

  ‘That is an excellent idea
,’ Margaret said. ‘I’ll ring at once.’ She smiled as I sat on the settee and took Lizzy on to my lap. ‘Isn’t this nice? I’ve heard so much about you, Pamela. I’m glad you’ve come to visit us at last. So many visitors in one day. How lucky we are!’

  When Mrs Rowan came in answer to the bell, I asked her to bring some orange juice and chocolate biscuits.

  ‘Lizzy is going to have her tea with us today,’ I said. ‘In half an hour’s time I shall bring her up to the nursery. Perhaps you would tell Nanny? I think James’s last cot will do for Lizzy for a while. We’ll see about a bed when she needs it.’

  ‘I’m to take it the child will be staying then, madam?’ She looked at Margaret for confirmation.

  ‘Yes, isn’t that wonderful news?’ Margaret replied. ‘Lizzy will be company for James. I think we are very lucky to have her come to visit us.’

  Lizzy was sitting quietly on my knee. She seemed to be watching us with her large, soulful eyes. Although only four, a year younger than James, she was intelligent and I believed she understood she had been abandoned by her mother. Until I arrived, she had been frightened and upset, but now her tears had dried. She knew me well enough not to be apprehensive, perhaps because in the past I had always been the bearer of small gifts.

  I was pleased that she had been washed, her hair neatly brushed, and was wearing a new dress. At least Sheila had made her presentable before sending her here. Her letter had appeared hostile at first reading, but I knew it was only Sheila’s way. She had been certain I could not refuse to have the child, yet still too proud to ask. She had sent a friend to deliver Lizzy in a spirit of defiance, but she had known her child would be loved and cared for in this house.

  From the gleam in Margaret’s eyes, I knew she was preparing to spoil Lizzy just as she had James. Margaret would have welcomed any motherless child into her home, but there was no doubting that Sheila’s daughter was a charmer. My mother had called her a little beauty, and she was right. Feeling the warmth of her thin body against me, I had to fight the urge to hug and kiss her.

  Instinctively, I knew that I had to give Lizzy time to get to know us. She was bound to feel nervous at first, and perhaps a little shy. Hopefully, that apprehension would soon melt away.