by Joan Jonker
Mary was indignant. ‘I will not!’
‘Keep your hair on, I was only joking! It’ll be nice for you to rock the baby to sleep in.’
‘There’s a long time to go before the baby comes.’ Mary rocked for a few minutes, deep in thought. Then she asked the question that had been at the back of her mind since Harry had asked her to marry him. ‘Don’t you mind about the baby?’
‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish it was mine. But it’s not the baby’s fault, is it, so I’m looking forward to it. I hope it’s a boy.’
‘You’re in for a disappointment then, because it’s definitely a girl!’
‘In that case I’ll have to wait for a son until we have a baby of our own.’ When he saw Mary’s face change, Harry went on quickly. ‘What are you going to call this daughter of yours?’
‘Me mam picked the name, but I like it as well. We’re going to call her Emma.’
‘But if you’re wrong, and it’s a boy, what are you going to call it?’ Licking her lips, Mary lied, ‘I haven’t thought of a boy’s name.’
Harry looked at his watch. ‘We’ve got twenty minutes to get to the shops before they close for lunch. Come on, get moving!’
Mary felt strange walking down the street with Harry holding on to her arm. She couldn’t get used to the idea that she was really married to him. And in the shop when he asked the assistant to show his wife some bedside lamps, Mary felt he was talking about someone else. She chose a small lamp with a dark wooden stand and a white shade, and Harry bought some flex and a plug. They were walking the short distance home when he asked, ‘How about going to the flicks tonight? The Carlton’s only round the corner and we’d only be out for two hours.’
‘But what about me …’
Harry was ready for the excuse. ‘Your mam will be all right! If we go to the first house we’ll be home by eight o’clock. Don’t forget I’m on holiday, Mary! I won’t get the chance to go anywhere next week!’
As soon as the lights dimmed, Harry put his arm round Mary’s shoulder and reached for her hand. She let it lie limply in his until the Pathe News came on, then her fingers curled tightly around his. Her head kept turning away from the screen as pictures of fighting and wounded soldiers flashed in the darkness of the cinema. From the war in the Middle East the scene shifted to the Russian front where the Russian soldiers were battling against a German force far superior and better equipped than themselves. Their casualties were heavy and the sight of wounded soldiers, their uniforms in tatters, being helped along by their comrades, brought a sob from Mary. Hearing it, Harry drew her to him, and her head came to rest on his shoulder, her face nestling under his chin. She didn’t move until the news ended, then she moved away and sat up straight.
The big picture was a comedy romance with Clark Gable and Myrna Loy. It was very funny and Mary found herself enjoying it until the cameras moved in for a close-up of the two stars kissing. As their lips met on the screen, Mary felt a tingling sensation running down her spine. It was the feeling she always got when Bob’s lips touched hers, and it felt so real she could almost feel the pressure of Bob’s mouth on hers.
She could no longer follow the plot of the film. Thinking of Bob reminded her of the conversation she’d had with her mother about Mr and Mrs West. If she didn’t tell them about the baby, someone else was bound to and they’d be very hurt. She was still wrestling with her conscience when the lights went up and people began to leave their seats. Making her way up the aisle of the cinema, she told herself she’d have to talk to Harry about it that night.
The new bedside lamp was lit and Mary was sitting up in bed when Harry came back from the bathroom. He sensed Mary had something on her mind, and as he hung his clothes in the wardrobe, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was biting on her bottom lip as she plucked at the bedclothes and he told himself she definitely had something on her mind but didn’t know how to tell him. He pulled the bedclothes back but made no move to get into bed. ‘Come on, out with it, Mary! What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing!’ Mary’s voice came out in a high squeak. ‘What could be wrong?’
‘That’s what I’m asking you! There’s something on your mind, so get it over with.’
‘I haven’t got the nerve.’
Harry climbed into bed and put his arm round her. ‘Am I so bad that you’re frightened of telling me anything?’
Mary’s hair swung across her face. ‘No.’
‘Then how can I help if you won’t tell me what’s wrong?’ He put a hand under her chin and lifted her face till their eyes were on a level. ‘If you don’t tell me, the worry will only get worse.’
‘It’s about Bob’s mam and dad.’
‘What about them?’
‘They’re sure to find out about the baby and they’ll think I’m terrible for not telling them! I was wondering whether I should write and let them know.’
Harry’s arm dropped from her shoulder. ‘What good would that do?’
‘Harry, Bob was their only son! I was courting him for six years, so don’t you think they have a right to know?’
‘What about my rights, Mary? Or don’t I have any rights? You’re my wife, and I’m willing to treat the baby as my own.’ Harry’s voice was thick with emotion. ‘You can’t expect me to welcome the Wests to my home when the mother of their grandchild is my wife! And while we’re on about it, what about my mam and dad? Are you going to tell the baby that I’m not its real father, and my parents are not its grandparents?’
A sob left Mary’s mouth. Harry was right! She’d made a mess of her own life, and now she was trying to make a mess of his. ‘I’m sorry,’ she gulped. ‘I’m no good to anyone!’
Harry moaned as he took her in his arms. ‘I love you, Mary, and I’ll move heaven and earth to make you happy. But don’t expect me to live in Bob’s shadow for the rest of my life.’
Hearing the pain in his voice, Mary was filled with pity. ‘I could write to tell them, but say I’m married now and can’t ask them here.’
Mary never knew whether the tears running down her cheeks were her own or Harry’s. He was holding her close, kissing her face, and she cried inwardly. He’s so good, why can’t I feel anything for him?
When Mary mentioned the Wests’ name, Harry felt as though he’d been dealt a body blow. If they came back into her life she’d never forget Bob and his memory would always be between them, a threat to the happiness Harry was hoping for. Given time, he was sure Mary would come to care for him, but not if Bob’s memory was kept alive.
Pulling her closer, he vowed that no one would come between them. She was his now, and he wasn’t going to share her with anyone … not even a memory. ‘Come on, love, lie down.’ He pressed her back until her head was on the pillow. She was cradled in his arms and the light from the lamp showed her face blotched with tear stains. But this seemed to enhance her beauty and Harry was filled with a fierce jealousy. For years he’d dreamed of Mary from afar, never thinking there was the remotest chance she would one day be his. Now she was, and by God no one was going to part them! ‘Go to sleep now, love; we can talk in the morning.’ He leaned over and switched the lamp off before tucking the bedclothes in at the side. Then he wrapped both arms tightly round her. ‘Goodnight, love.’
Mary dropped off to sleep quickly, like a child, in the warmth and security of his arms. But Harry was too full of emotion to sleep. Lying perfectly still in case he disturbed her, his mind went over what he would say to her in the morning. Should he forbid her to make any contact with the Wests, or should he say she could write, but she must make it plain that they couldn’t visit her?
Harry rested a hand on Mary’s tummy and felt his heartbeats quicken. There was a baby growing in there, and if she was right, and it was a baby girl, would it be beautiful, like her? He didn’t feel any resentment, because if it wasn’t for the baby he might never have stood a chance with Mary. He could feel the warmth of her body through the nightdress as his hand
moved in a circle over her tummy, and it felt so good. If only she returned his feelings they could be so happy together.
Martha sensed the slight tension between Mary and Harry, and it saddened her. But what could she do? They’d been all right before they’d gone to bed last night, so whatever went wrong between them happened in bed. Sometimes her daughter acted so childishly Martha felt like giving her a good shake. They’d had their lunch and Mary was in her mother’s room when Harry popped his head round the door. ‘D’you feel like coming to me mam’s with me, to thank them for the present? We could call at Vera’s, and the Smiths, while we’re down there.’
Mary paled at the thought of going back to their old street again. ‘I’ve got some washing to do. You go on your own.’
Harry shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. ‘OK. I’ll see you later.’
Martha waited for the bang of the front door before asking, ‘What’s the matter, lass? You two had a quarrel?’
‘We had a few words over me telling the Wests, that’s all!’
‘You’re being unfair, you know! Harry’s doing his best, but you won’t even try! Every marriage has its ups and downs, but you’ve got to pull together and give and take! The trouble is, you won’t give!’
‘Just leave it, Mam! I don’t want to talk about it.’
Eileen called in on her way home from work and she couldn’t wait to sit down in Martha’s room before reaching into her bag. ‘Wait till yer see what I’ve got for yer.’ She passed a small, tissue-wrapped parcel over to Mary with the warning, ‘Be careful, they’re precious.’
While Martha watched with interest, Mary slowly unfolded the tissue paper.
‘A pair of stockings!’ The puzzled expression on Mary’s face turned to joy. ‘Where did you manage to get these from?’
‘Not just a pair of stockings, yer ignorant nit! Pure silk stockings, no less!’ Eileen puffed her chest out, then had the grace to look guilty. ‘I got them off Jean Simpson.’ She held up her hand. ‘I know! I’m a polished bugger! I call the woman for everything and now I’m taking things off her! Well I still think she’s a stupid cow, but I’ve got to admit she’s not mean. And that Yankee boyfriend of hers comes in handy, I can tell yez! He keeps me kids goin’ in chewing gum, and he gave her those stockings for me.’
Mary held up the gossamer-like hose. ‘I’ve never had a pair of pure silk stockings, even before the war. They’re beautiful; but I couldn’t take them. It’s very kind of you, Eileen, but Jean meant you to have them for yourself.’
Eileen’s guffaw filled the room. ‘Can yer imagine my fat legs in them! And with my nails, they’d be laddered the first time I put them on! No, kid, I want you to have them. You’ve got the legs for them.’
‘I’ll save them for special occasions, then.’ Mary folded the tissue carefully. ‘Have you got time for a cuppa?’
Eileen nodded as she pressed her hands on the couch to lever herself up. ‘I want to see the chair, too!’ She followed Mary into the back room. ‘D’yer like it, kid?’
‘It’s beautiful!’ Mary touched her friend’s arm. ‘You’re very good to us, Eileen; I sometimes wonder what we’d do without you.’
‘Oh, go way with yer, kid!’ Eileen blushed with embarrassment. ‘Anyway, where’s the ’appy bridegroom? He hasn’t gone home to his mammy already, has he?’
Mary nodded. ‘He’s gone to thank them for the chair.’
There was a wicked glint in Eileen’s eyes. ‘I’ve been expecting him to come knocking on me door, but he must be gettin’ all he needs here!’
Mary turned her head without answering, so Eileen persisted. ‘How are things on the bedroom front, kid?’
‘You’d better ask Harry! I wouldn’t know!’
‘As he’s not here to ask, I’ll have to ask you, won’t I?’
Mary’s head jerked round. ‘I told you to ask Harry!’
Eileen pursed her lips. ‘Mmmmm! Perhaps he will be knockin’ on me door one of these nights.’
‘You’re welcome!’
‘All right, kid! Don’t get out of yer pram, I’ll pick yer dummy up!’ Eileen’s smile disappeared. ‘I was only kiddin’, but you’re not, are yer? I don’t know what’s happened between the two of yez, but I don’t think yer should be talking about him like that! The trouble with you is, yer don’t know a good feller when yer see one! Yer’ve built a brick wall between yez, and the sooner yer knock it down the better! Yer might even find yer like what’s on the other side.’
‘You’re right; and me mam’s right!’ The anger drained from Mary’s face. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t bring myself to like him in that way and I’m getting bad tempered and taking it out on him.’
‘If yer don’t make an effort, kid, then life’s going to be hell for the both of yez! Men aren’t like women, yer know; they need sex far more than a woman does. An’ as yer’ve only been married a few days yer can’t expect Harry to behave like a flippin’ monk!’ Eileen gave a loud sigh of exasperation. ‘I could understand it if he was a repulsive little sod, but he’s a smashing looking feller! Yer don’t know how lucky yer are!’
‘Is it dangerous to have intercourse when you’re expecting a baby?’ Mary’s question sent Eileen’s eyebrows shooting upwards. She suppressed a giggle as she asked herself how any woman of twenty-two could be so ignorant of the facts of life. ‘It won’t harm the baby, if that’s what you mean. When you get to eight months yer tummy might get in the way, but it won’t hurt the baby.’ She couldn’t keep her face straight any longer. ‘D’yer know what the height of aggravation is, kid? Well, it’s a man tryin’ to make love to his eight-month pregnant wife.’ She grinned as she patted Mary’s arm. ‘Or it could be a fat man, trying to make love to someone with a belly as big as mine! We’d both die of frustration!
‘Anyway, I’m sorry I can’t give yer an excuse for not giving Harry what he wants, but me invitation still stands. He can bang on my door any time he likes.’ Playing with a loose button on her coat, she eyed her friend. ‘Can I give yer a bit of advice, kid? When Harry comes home, welcome him with a smile on yer face, will yer? When I walked in yer had a right miserable gob on yer, and if he comes home to that, he might just be sorry he didn’t stay at his mam’s!’
Mary was rocking to and fro in the chair and Eileen thought she’d never seen her looking as lovely. ‘Yer startin’ to show, yer know, kid, and it suits yer! The chair suits yer, too! Yer’ll have the time of yer life feedin’ the baby in that!’
They heard the key turn in the lock and seconds later Harry walked in. His face lit up when he saw Eileen. ‘I was wondering when we’d see you, to thank you for the present.’ He looked across at Mary, and making up his mind quickly, stepped over and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘Hello, love.’
Mary could feel her friend’s eyes on her. ‘How were your mam and dad?’
‘Me dad was at work, but Mam’s fine and sends her regards. I saw Vera and Elsie Smith, and they’re pleased you like their present.’
‘I’ve just been sayin’ she’ll look great in that chair when she’s feeding the baby.’
‘Not the baby, Eileen!’ Harry tutted. ‘Our Emma!’
‘Ooops! Pardon me! I forgot Mary had put her order in.’
Mary stopped rocking. ‘Eileen’s just given me a nice surprise. A pair of pure silk stockings. Aren’t I lucky?’
‘I’ve got another surprise for you. Me mam’s making you some cot sheets and blankets, and me dad’s making you a cot.’ Harry watched Mary’s face closely. Her reaction meant a lot to him. It would tell him if she was going to let his parents be part of the baby’s life, or was she going to shut everybody out, including himself? When a smile appeared he let his breath out slowly. ‘Oh, that’s great! I only need a pram now, and I can look around for a good second-hand one.’
‘You’ll do no such thing!’ Harry roared. ‘You’ll get a new one; and a good one, at that! It’ll come in for the next baby.’
&n
bsp; Eileen chuckled when she saw the look on Mary’s face. ‘How many d’yer intend having, Harry? An even dozen?’
Although answering Eileen’s question, Harry’s eyes were locked with Mary’s as he said, slowly and determinedly, ‘As many as it takes to get a son.’
Mary looked so flabbergasted Eileen hugged herself with silent laughter. Oh, she wouldn’t have missed this for anything. It was time someone gave her friend a kick up the backside. ‘Don’t say yer haven’t been warned, kid! Now yer know what yer in for!’
‘I might just have something to say about that.’ Mary’s voice was quiet, but just as determined as Harry’s.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Hey! Get that thing out of here!’ Eileen stood menacingly in front of her two daughters who were stroking a tiny kitten seated between them on the couch. ‘If it piddles on that couch I’ll ’ave yer guts for garters.’
‘Ah, ray, Mam!’ Joan cried. ‘Our Billy found it in the entry, an’ he said it was lost. It’s only a baby, Mam!’
‘It must belong to someone! An’ I’ve got enough troubles without having a moggy to worry about. Now get it out of here, pronto, before it stinks the house down.’
‘Can we play on the step with it!’ Edna pleaded. ‘We won’t let it come in the ’ouse, I promise.’ She picked up the little bundle of black and white fur and held it to her cheek. ‘It’s only a baby, an’ it’s lovely.’
‘Aye, they’re all lovely when they’re babies … just like you two were, and look at yez now! Out with it … quick!’ The two girls pulled at the kitten, each wanting to hold it. Then they compromised and carried it between them as they flew down the hall. Eileen grinned as she wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. She’d been mangling some sheets and turning the handle of the old mangle was hard work. Her dress was sodden with perspiration and she could feel rivulets of it running between her breasts. ‘Why wasn’t I born rich instead of beautiful?’ she asked the mirror on the wall, which had a pre-war snap of Bill stuck in the corner of the wooden frame. ‘I could ’ave had maids doin’ all me work, while me and me mam sat drinking tea all day. The kids would be at boarding school, of course.’ Eileen often held little conversations with herself, and didn’t worry if anyone came in and caught her at it. She would say, laughing, ‘If I talk to meself, there’s no one to answer me back and I win all the arguments. Anyway, I can’t think of anyone better to talk to.’