First on his list was for Nina to go to the doctor, and for Nell to go with her. Secondly, Nina must give in her notice. ‘And you can work it! I don’t see why your employer should be let down as well as us. You’ve managed to hide it for this long, another week won’t make much difference, and you’ll need a reference to get you another job when you come back.’
There were no tears now, just a resigned nod, for Nina had invested her trust in Nell, and had agreed to leave any persuasion to her.
And, by the end of that week, when Joe had also organised a place for Nina at a home for unmarried mothers, where she would stay until after the baby was born, she was to depart without argument. It was Nell who was the one who shed tears, as she watched her daughter’s forlorn journey to the car with her suitcase. The one she had sworn not to let down.
18
Once the problem had been shoved from sight, Nell began in earnest to try to talk Joe round, though to little avail. He remained adamant on the topic of adoption. Cleaved of her daughter, even if that loss was temporary and had only been for a week so far, Nell coped by throwing herself into nursing during the day. But, coming home to another evening of argument with Joe, she could barely sleep for worry, picturing that fifteen-year-old girl, no more than a child herself, crying over the fate of her baby. Don’t go bothering our Beat with this, Joe had warned. But Nell had to confide in someone, even if her sister-in-law felt unable to help.
Though times had changed, attitudes had not, and it was still an awful confession to have to make. When she had at last unburdened her heart to Beata in a letter, she was still unsure of the response.
But how could she have doubted her friend? Within an hour of receiving the cry for help, there was the faithful Beata come to offer her shoulder.
Seated beside her in the latest two-tone green Wolsey, having been spirited twenty miles out of town, and now at the top of a hill that overlooked the most breathtaking scene, Nell’s face remained woebegone. ‘I don’t know what to do, Killie.’ Her fingers traced the grain of the walnut dashboard, her eyes gazing out over the Vale of York. Beyond the hawthorn hedgerows entwined with convolvulus, a thousand white trumpets to herald the fall, on this clear blue breezy day one could see fifty, sixty miles across the flat plain, to a purple ridge, and, in between, a checkerboard: a shorn barley field, a clutch of terracotta roofs, a coven of cooling towers that belched forth smoke into the blue yonder, a hamlet, a farm, a village spire, a glittering puddle, a dark splodge of woodland, an historic cathedral, from here a mere chess piece … ‘I vowed not to let her down, but Joe’s so rigid.’
‘Well, you can stop blaming yourself for a start. She’s the one who’s let you down. Little bugger, after all you’ve done for her …’
‘Oh no, don’t say that,’ groaned Nell. ‘That’s exactly what they said of me. I am disappointed, yes, but I’m sad for her, not me. I just want to do the best for her, and if that means helping her to keep her baby then so be it.’
‘It’ll be hard, you know,’ warned Beata, reaching for a bag of boiled sweets, taking two out and offering one to Nell.
‘I’m prepared for that. And believe me, it won’t be as hard as having to give the baby up.’ Nell did not unwrap the sweet, just fingered the twists of its cellophane wrapper and stared across the vista.
‘You’re sure you’re doing this for her sake?’
Nell’s chin tilted slightly, but her eyes remained on distant hills. ‘You think I’m trying to make up for having my own baby taken away.’ Her voice was dull, in the knowledge that this childless one could never appreciate how traumatic that had been. ‘I’m not. If that’s what Nina wanted then I’d support her – even though it would break my heart to see the baby go.’ Her voice caught and her eyes filled with tears over the awful memory. ‘But she’s its mother, she should be the one to make the choice, not be bullied into it like I was.’
Beata nodded. ‘Whatever I can do to help, I will. Did you want me to have a word with Potato Pete?’
Nell shook her head, still toying with the wrapped sweet. ‘He’s forbidden me to tell anyone, so he’ll go mad if he finds out you know. Besides, you can’t say anything to him that hasn’t already been said. I just needed somebody to talk to – thanks for listening, Killie. And thanks for bringing me out here. What a marvellous view.’
Beata gave a nod, then asked for the address of the mother and baby home, and murmured, ‘I’ll drop the lass a line. She must be feeling terrible.’
More than terrible, Nell suspected, which was why, against Joe’s wishes, she was to journey down south at her first opportunity. Whilst visitors were not discouraged in this private home, there were few apart from her. Her fears that Nina would be badly treated were unfounded, for her daughter said the people in charge were not at all preachy, though she and the other girls were made to do a lot more housework than at home, her chapped hands indication of this. By a stroke of luck, amongst the little treats Nell had brought was a tin of cream. If only there were good news to accompany her gifts.
But, ‘Don’t worry.’ Nell forced her voice to be bright, as along with some books she handed over a bag of half-melted cream eggs. ‘There’s still plenty of time for us to work on him.’
‘You keep telling me not to worry – I am bloody worried!’ Paying the chocolate short shrift, Nina’s hands moved to protect her abdomen, lately draped in a maternity smock.
‘I know, I know!’ Nell immediately reached out to her. ‘But believe me, I’m wearing away at your father whenever I can. He’ll come round in the end.’
Not yet, though. For whilst Nell continued to visit their daughter on a regular basis, and to worry over her emotional state, Joe remained cold, refusing even to listen to news of her.
Fortnight after fortnight, month after month, Nell travelled to see Nina, despite the inclement weather, the expense, the embarrassment, and the inconvenience of reaching this remote place. Even with late November fog swirling under her skirts to freeze the bare tops of her thighs, Nell rolled up to lend support. Despite the austerity of the communal sitting room, and the presence of others in the same unfortunate position as Nina, her face was pink and cheerful as she kissed her daughter, then sat down in the cottage armchair beside her, and straight away began to take gifts from her bag.
‘You’re looking well!’ The poor little thing looked ready to burst, even the maternity smock unable to conceal her enormous bulge.
‘I feel like a Bumblie,’ lamented Nina.
It was so unbearably poignant that Nell could have wept, but instead offered a sympathetic laugh and a cigarette, lighting one herself, then continuing to bestow gifts. ‘I’ve brought you some batteries for your transistor, forty cigs – they should keep you going – and here’s a couple of Taylor Caldwells and a Leon Uris. And Shirley thought you might like this programme from the Beatles concert.’ In fact, Nell had asked her to buy an extra one, guessing she would not want to part with hers, Beatlemania having gripped the entire nation. ‘She said you could hardly hear for all the screaming – she nearly got mown down as well, when the Beatles car roared towards her down that lane at the side of the Rialto with all these hysterical girls in tow!’
Dragging on her cigarette, Nina inspected the programme briefly, along with the paperbacks. ‘She wrote and told me about it.’
‘Did she? Oh, that’s nice of her.’
‘Yes, I enjoyed reading about all the fun she’s had whilst I’m stuck in here.’
Nell tutted. ‘Don’t take it out on your friend. It’s not her fault …’
Rebuked, obviously feeling abandoned, her daughter looked away. Nell wished she could sweep her up and kiss all the troubles better, but Nina had barricaded herself in, and she feared she would never be able to reach her lovely child again.
Still, she tried. ‘Hey, did you hear about President Kennedy being assassinated – wasn’t it dreadful?’ This was obviously not the ideal thing to remove the look of disdain, so she began to hand over a ran
ge of baby clothes, a blanket, and a shawl, one after another. ‘Anyway, these might cheer you up a bit!’
And indeed, Nina did gain enjoyment from them, holding up each pretty dress in turn, and seeing them as representing her mother’s belief that all would be well.
‘You’re getting close now, aren’t you?’ Nell struggled with her inhibitions, wanting Nina to be prepared for her ordeal. ‘Has anyone explained what’s going to happen?’
Her daughter gave a nod of trepidation. ‘They’ve given us all a book – with pictures.’ She formed a look of distaste.
‘It’ll be all right,’ said her mother kindly, hoping not to infect the other with her own apprehension, and relieved that she had been tutored.
Then, ‘Have you told him about your son yet?’ Nina asked, as she played with the arms of a tiny cardigan, a haze of tobacco smoke curling around them.
Nell shook her head, already regretting disclosing this to her daughter. ‘I’ll only use that as a final remedy.’
‘But what if you leave it to the last minute and it doesn’t make any difference?’ protested Nina. ‘I need to know if he’ll let us both live with you, because if he won’t then I’ll have to make other arrangements – and I will, Mam,’ she added forcefully. ‘He might think he’s frightening me into giving it up, but –’
‘He’s not trying to frighten you! He’s your father, he cares about what happens to you, that’s the only reason he’s being like this. He just doesn’t want to think of you ruining your life – you and I both know that isn’t the case, but it’s all your dad can see!’
‘But you keep saying you’ll talk him round. I can’t go on not knowing one way or the other. If you were to explain to him the way you felt about having to give your baby awa—’
‘Neen, I hope you realise what you’re asking me to do,’ her mother butted in. ‘I’ll only keep that as a last resort, because it could ruin our marriage.’
The youngster had obviously not considered this. After a brief pause, she murmured on an exhalation of smoke, ‘Well, I don’t want to ruin your life … I’d rather live in some hostel.’
‘It won’t come to that,’ promised Nell, with a look of purpose, grinding her stub of cigarette into an ashtray. ‘I’ve got money, we could arrange somewhere better – but I don’t want you to live somewhere else, I want you with us!’ After a moment of anguish, she made a suggestion. ‘There is a way he might consent. I haven’t put it to him, so don’t get your hopes up, but what if we were to pretend I’m its moth—?’
‘No.’ The firmness of that reply put an end to any speculation. ‘I’m its mother.’
Nell lowered her eyes and gave a little nod of acceptance, knowing too well the ferocity of maternal possession. ‘Then why don’t you write your dad a letter?’ she said, with nothing else to suggest. ‘Pour out your heart to him. It might be easier on paper. Tell him absolutely everything, so’s he’ll understand.’
And, despite her lack of optimism, Nina was to agree as she lit up again. ‘Can’t make things any worse, I suppose …’
* * *
But instead of being touched by her three-page missive, after an angry perusal, Joe blamed his wife for conniving against him. ‘I don’t know what rubbish you’ve been putting into her head on these visits of yours! But she seems to think I’m going to change my mind, and I’m getting pretty fed up of being manipulated. Instead of spending your time giving her false hope, why don’t you persuade her not to ruin her life?’ And he folded the letter back into its envelope and shoved it behind the wooden mantel clock. ‘Now, I’m telling you, I don’t want to hear any more about it!’
For hours afterwards they were to pussyfoot around each other and tolerate the other’s presence. But, determined that Nina would not suffer the same ordeal as herself, Nell was merely rehearsing what she was going to say, and what seemed like placid acceptance to her husband was to end in outburst.
‘I don’t think you understand what a terrible thing you’re about to do, depriving a mother of her child!’ she blurted, in the middle of a favourite television programme that would normally have held her. ‘All right, I accept it’s impossible for you to empathise, but I want you to think, really think, what it’ll mean to hand your grandchild to strangers –’
‘I have.’ Joe never took his eyes off the screen.
‘No, you haven’t! Would you have given Nina away when she was little?’
‘It’s not the same thing and you know it.’
‘Maybe not the same situation, but in essence it is – you’re throwing away a member of your family, another human being, to God knows what end – you of all people, with the kind of childhood you had!’
Joe was incensed at being compared to his violent stepmother, of being made to face memories he would rather block out. ‘She was just like that because she didn’t want us, because she’d been lumbered! Somebody who goes to the bother of adoption isn’t going to act like her.’
‘How can you be sure? There are all sorts of evil people out there with motives of their own – and what happens if nobody wants it and it ends up in an orphanage?’
Joe’s face told her she was being overdramatic. ‘It’ll be looked after.’
‘If it’s lucky! If it gets somebody like me or Beata to take care of it – but that’s not always the case. I should know, I saw enough of the poor little devils pass through the Infirmary, and plenty of them neglected by their nurses too!’ Having captured his imagination now, she implored him not to do anything reckless. ‘I know, I know you’re furious with her, Joe – you’ve a right to be – but don’t let your anger make you do something downright cruel.’
‘You can never bloody accuse me of that!’ he retaliated.
‘I’m not saying you are – but you will be if you carry this out! Believe me, I know, I’ve been on the receiving end of such treatment, people thinking they’re being cruel to be kind – well, it’s not kind, it’s just bloody cruel!’
Joe looked at her strangely then. ‘When you say you’ve been on the receiving end, do you mean to tell me that you’ve been in the same position as our lass?’
Hard as it was to face that narrowed gaze, Nell was to do so honestly. ‘I had my baby taken away, yes.’ Then she looked at the floor, and went on, ‘I didn’t see any need to tell you be—’
‘Didn’t see the need?’ Joe sounded amazed and shot to his feet.
‘It was a very long time before I met you!’
‘You told me everything else about your family; didn’t you think I might be just that little bit interested to hear that the woman I was marrying had a secret baby an’ all?’
‘It hurt too much to speak of him, Joe! And he’s gone – to God knows where!’ Her eyes filled with tears, and as she lowered them to the floor they spilled over. ‘And I was afraid it might make you feel differently about me if you’d known.’
‘Just a bit!’ came his acid response.
‘Well, there you are!’ cried Nell. ‘What was I meant to do, spend the rest of my life a spinster?’
‘It might have been nice if you’d allowed me to make the decision for myself! All these years I’ve been thinking …’ A nasty shrewdness came to his eye. ‘Well, well, not such a hero, after all, our Billy – I’m presuming it was his?’ Nell gave outraged affirmation, but it was to put no brake on her husband’s sarcasm. ‘Run off and leave you, did he?’
‘No he did not! I spoke the truth! He was killed, before he could save me from others who professed to love me while they were tearing our precious son from my arms!’ And she broke down sobbing in anguish.
But whilst Nell was facing her demons, Joe left the arena.
However, he had only gone upstairs to spend a while in the bathroom, obviously hoping to by the time he came down the whole episode would be over, for he sat down and began to watch the television as if nothing had occurred. Though the heavy smell of tobacco that clung to his clothes and the twitch in his jaw told otherwise.
It
was excruciating for Nell, but she must force him to listen. ‘We have to talk about this, Joe.’ She sounded determined.
‘I thought we just had,’ he muttered.
‘But it didn’t solve anything!’
‘By solving, you mean you didn’t manage to get me to change my mind.’ Still his eyes were fixed to the screen.
‘Joe, I’ll talk till I’m blue in the face if it stops you making a huge mistake with –’
‘Have you any bloody idea what it’s like to be second best?’ he turned in his chair and demanded of her.
Nell became instantly contrite, and her voice was at once gentle again. ‘Joe, if you’re saying that I make you feel like that, then I never, ever intended to, and I’m deeply sorry if you felt you were being compared to Bill. You weren’t. You’re a good man, and no more second best than anyone else – we all feel second best at some point in our lives, whether it be in our career or –’
‘I’ve always been second best at everything!’ shot Joe, his attack catching Nell off guard, for he had always shied away from confronting anything of an emotional nature, but now the festering pustules burst. ‘In Dad’s eyes it was always our Clem who was golden boy! It was obvious to everybody – none of them ever said to me, “You’ll be following in your father’s footsteps,” they just treated it like a joke when I mentioned wanting to be a soldier, as if I wasn’t regarded as good enough to fill his boots – that’s the only reason I joined the blasted army, so’s to prove to everybody that I was good enough!’
‘Of course you are!’ Nell tried to staunch his wounds.
But the bad blood continued to flow. ‘Stop being so bloody patronising! I wasn’t even good enough to make sergeant! Fourteen years, and I still didn’t make the grade!’
Nell was horrified. ‘Honestly, I wasn’t meaning to patronise! I was trying to say that I know what it’s like, because I’ve never been regarded as a proper nurse. Just because I couldn’t afford to take the exams or pay for the uniform. I know how it rankles, but –’
An Unsuitable Mother Page 43