by Joan Jonker
‘In the bloody workhouse!’ Eileen grunted as she pushed the wayward turban back. ‘I had a feeling all was not well. He hasn’t been himself lately.’ Her fat hand covered Martha’s. ‘Tell yer what, Mrs B, I’ll hang on till they get back and try and have a word with her ladyship. If I can get her on her own in the kitchen, you keep Harry talkin’ in here. It’s about time she grew up and I think I know just how to do it.’
‘Don’t say I’ve said anything, will you?’ Martha begged. ‘The atmosphere in the house is bad enough now, without me making it worse.’ Her head turned quickly and a finger went to her lips. ‘Sssh! They’re here now!’
‘Hi!’ Mary’s face broadened into a grin when she saw her friend. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘Long enough to have had a cuppa! Me belly thinks me throat’s cut.’ As she heaved herself up, Harry came in carrying the baby and Eileen could see the pride on his face. No wonder Martha felt sorry for him. It was a pity he’d been so soft with Mary. What she needed was a smacked backside.
‘Yer get prettier every time I see yer.’ Eileen tickled Emma’s tummy and was rewarded with loud chuckles. The baby was three months old now and the spitting image of Mary. ‘Yer might even grow up to be as good looking as yer godmother.’
‘God help her!’ Mary ducked. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘I’ll give yer a hand.’ Eileen winked knowingly at Martha before following Mary into the kitchen. She leaned against the sink watching the cups being set out. ‘It’s ages since we had a natter, isn’t it, kid? How’s things going?’
‘Fine!’ Mary had a feeling she’d been cornered for a reason. ‘Everything’s great.’
‘You an’ Harry gettin’ on all right?’
‘Of course we are! Why?’
‘It’s just that he doesn’t seem himself these days an’ I wondered if anything was worryin’ him. He doesn’t smile much, an’ I can’t even get him to laugh at me jokes any more.’ Eileen was watching every expression on the pretty face. ‘Not still sleepin’ in yer own room, are yer?’
Mary turned from the prying eyes. ‘Yes! But it’s only so Harry can get a good night’s sleep.’
‘Christ, kid, yer as thick as two short planks!’ When Mary spun round, her face flushed with anger, Eileen flung out her arm. ‘No! Let me get it off me chest first, then yer can have yer say. But remember, kid, it’s me yer talkin’ to and not Harry.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I was the one who encouraged yer to marry him, but I’m sorry I did now! Oh, not for your sake, but for Harry’s! You got respectability out of marryin’ him. A father for yer baby, a man with a good job, and a man that’s crazy about yer. But what did Harry get out of it? Sweet bugger all as far as I can see! A wife who thinks she’s done him a favour, instead of the other way round. A wife who doesn’t have any feelings for him and won’t even sleep in the same bed! And on top of all that, everyone laughin’ behind his back.’ When Mary’s eyes widened, Eileen huffed. ‘Oh, yeah, he’s had that all right, and more! Everyone knows yer’ve had a baby, an’ they all know it’s not Harry’s! But he’s put up with all that because he loves yer.’ Eileen looked down at her feet before meeting Mary’s eyes. ‘There’s a lot of things yer don’t know about yer ’usband, kid! I bet yer don’t know he takes an hour off work every week to visit Iris Brown in the hossie, do yer?’
‘I didn’t know Iris was in hospital.’
‘No, ’cos yer never asked! Not once have yer bothered to ask what happened to the women in the powder room that day. Iris Brown had half her face blown away, Theresa Corkhill lost three fingers, and Mary Sawyer’s scarred for life. That’s apart from the other women who were injured. But you’ve been too busy wallowing in self pity to spare a thought for others that have got more troubles than you’ve ever dreamed of.’
‘I did ask if anyone had been hurt in the explosion!’ Mary cried. ‘But Harry said things weren’t as bad as they first thought. And he never mentioned it again so I believed him.’
‘Harry wouldn’t tell yer in case yer got upset! And he made sure I didn’t tell yer, either! Oh, my goodness me, no! We mustn’t say anything that might upset Mary!’ Eileen saw Mary’s stricken look and realised she was going too far. ‘I’m sorry, kid! I shouldn’t be shoutin’ at yer like this but yer get me so bloody mad! I know life hasn’t been a bed of roses for yer, but have yer ever asked yerself where yer’d be today without Harry!? Not only you, but yer mam and Emma? Shall I tell yer where yer’d be, kid? Up the bloody creek without a paddle!’ Eileen paused for a while, and when she spoke her voice was softer. ‘Harry thinks the sun shines out of yer backside, kid, but he’ll only stand for so much. Keep him out of yer bedroom and yer’ve only yerself to blame if he looks elsewhere for comfort. ’Cos I’ll tell yer this for nothin’, kid, no one will blame Harry. He’s put up with all the sly digs and the taunts, but he won’ put up with a frigid wife.’
Mary’s head was bowed, her voice barely audible. ‘I didn’t know they were talking behind Harry’s back.’
‘Harry wouldn’t give a bugger what people said if it was worth it. But is it? Be honest with yerself, kid. The only person you’ve thought about since the day yer got married, is yerself. Yer couldn’t give a monkey’s uncle about Harry’s feelings.’ Eileen let out a deep sigh. ‘Yer could make it work if yer wanted to! Bob was yer childhood sweetheart an’ he’ll always have a special place in yer heart … but yer can’t love a dream forever, an’ that’s what you’re doing! Bob is a dream, and it’s time to let go of that dream and wake up to reality! Christ, Mary, we all have to grow up sometime, so grow up before it’s too late.’ Eileen moved towards the door. She’d done her best, but was it enough? She had her doubts. ‘I’ll be on me way. I’ve worn me welcome out.’
‘But you haven’t had a cup of tea yet!’
Eileen shook her head. ‘I’ve lost the taste for it now.’ She walked through to the front room to say ta-ra to the family and she answered Martha’s silent question with a shrug of her shoulders. What would happen now was anyone’s guess. And as she waddled her way to the bus stop, Eileen muttered aloud, ‘It’ll take a miracle to save that marriage, and miracles are in short supply at the moment.’
Martha threw her cards on the table. There was no pleasure in playing with two people who were as lifeless as the dummies in Lewis’s window. ‘I want to listen to Winston Churchill. He’s on the wireless at nine o’clock.’
Mary pushed her chair back. ‘Emma’s due for her feed. I’ll get straight into bed when I’ve fed her. I’m dead tired.’
Harry listened to her feet climbing the stairs then switched the wireless on. ‘She always leaves the room when anyone mentions the war.’ He twiddled the knobs, to try and clear the crackling on the line. ‘How the hell can you ignore a war?’
‘I don’t know, son!’ Martha didn’t understand her daughter any more than Harry did. She used to be able to read her like a book, but not any more. They sat in silence, afraid to miss one word Winston Churchill said in that well known, deep gruff voice. The Allies were still having setbacks in the areas of fighting, but they were now starting to have their victories too. Churchill said they must all tighten their belts and pull together to achieve a final victory over the cruel invaders. The Allies had right on their side. They were fighting for freedom for all the people in the countries Hitler had taken by force. And there was never any doubt in the Prime Minister’s voice when he said that, in the end, right would prevail. The day after one of his ‘state of the war’ broadcasts, every person in the country would walk round with their heads held high and a determination to work harder. That was the effect the great man had. His strong voice and his pride and faith in the men and women in the forces, and those at home working behind the lines, made everyone feel ten feet tall.
‘We’re lucky we’ve got him.’ Harry turned the sound down. ‘No one will put anything over on him.’
‘No, he’s a great man.’ Martha sighed. How she wished she was fit and well enough to go
out and do her bit to help win the war. ‘As you say, we’re lucky to have him.’
‘Talking about Mary ignoring the war,’ Harry looked her in the eyes, ‘it’s not only the war she ignores, is it? I could go out tomorrow and never come back, and she wouldn’t even miss me!’
Martha bit her lip. ‘I know, son! You mightn’t like what I’m going to tell you, but I’m going to tell you anyway. I had a word with Eileen about our Mary this afternoon. I thought she might be able to knock some sense into her. That’s why Eileen followed her into the kitchen. I know she had a talk to her, but it doesn’t seem to have made any difference.’
‘Mrs B, I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing is going to make any difference to the way Mary feels about me. I’ve done everything I know, but it hasn’t worked.’ Harry ran his fingers through his thick mop of hair, his face pale and serious. ‘I’ve been giving it a lot of thought over the last few weeks, and I really don’t see any future for us. I’m twenty-eight years of age, Mrs B, and I need a wife who loves me! It’s not too much to ask, is it?’
Martha shook her head and a tear fell on to her hand. Her voice was choked as she cried, ‘None of it is your fault, Harry! It’s our Mary that’s in the wrong.’
Her stricken face pierced Harry’s heart and he stood up and ruffled her hair. ‘You’re still the best mother-in-law in the whole world, no matter what! Now, I’ll make us a drink and we can get to bed. It’s up early in the morning for me.’
When he carried Martha’s drink in, he said, ‘I’ll take one up to Mary. I don’t think she’ll be asleep yet.’
Mary had just put the light out when the tap came on the door. It opened slowly to reveal Harry, silhouetted in the glow from the landing light. ‘I thought you’d still be awake, so I’ve brought you a cuppa.’ He handed her the cup, then bent over the cot. ‘She’s fast asleep in the land of nod. No worries in her little world.’
‘D’you want to sit and talk for a few minutes?’ Mary patted the side of the bed. ‘Emma’s well away, so we won’t disturb her.’
Harry stared down at her with a look of sad bewilderment on his face. She thinks I’m made of stone! I’m supposed to sit on the side of me wife’s bed, talk to her as though we’re casual acquaintances, then toddle off to me own room like a good little boy! ‘Not tonight! I’m too tired and I have to be up early.’
Mary watched the door close then put her cup on the tallboy and slid down between the sheets. She’d made an effort to be friendly and he’d rejected her. She turned on her side, pulling the blankets up to cover her shoulder. If that was the way he wanted it, then it suited her.
At the sound of Emma’s high-pitched squeals of laughter, Harry lifted his eyes to look over the top of the newspaper. She was being held aloft by Mary and her face was glowing with pleasure as she waved her arms and legs about. ‘Down we come.’ Mary’s laughter mingled with Emma’s as she lowered the smiling face down to her own and kissed the tiny nose. ‘And up we go.’ Mary’s arms stretched upwards. ‘Two more, then it’s time for your nap.’ The smile on Harry’s face as he lowered his eyes to the newspaper was tinged with sadness. What a scene of wedded bliss it would look to anyone walking through the door now. A devoted mother playing with a laughing baby while hubby sat contentedly reading the day’s news after coming home from working a morning shift. But the happy domestic scene was far from what it appeared.
‘OW! You little tinker … let go!’ Emma had grabbed at the long blonde hair and was pulling hard. ‘OW! That hurts!’ Mary was trying to disentangle the tiny fingers but Emma held on tight.
Harry put his paper down and moved forward to help. But as his hand reached out, Mary pushed it aside. ‘Leave it!’ Her voice was sharp, and when she saw Harry wince, she softened her tone. ‘I can manage.’
‘It strikes me you can always manage! You don’t need me for anything, do you, Mary?’ Harry was out of the room before Mary could say she was sorry, and she heard his anger in the slam of his bedroom door. Things can’t go on as they are, she told herself. It would be better if I came straight out and told him what was making me bad tempered all the time. Better to have a blazing row than carry on as they were, with neither of them happy.
Even if it means losing Harry? Mary posed the question as she nestled the baby’s head into her shoulder and rocked her gently from side to side. Is your peace of mind more important to you than your marriage? Mary didn’t need to consider the answer because until she’d squared herself with her conscience, and lightened the burden of guilt she carried with her every waking moment, there’d be no marriage. Harry wouldn’t put up with her moods forever, and she didn’t blame him.
Mary popped her head under the pram hood and gently moved the blankets from her daughter’s face. Wide eyes met hers and she tutted. ‘You little tinker! You’re supposed to be asleep!’
‘Put her outside in the fresh air and she’ll soon go to sleep,’ Martha said, knowingly. ‘You’re making a rod for your own back by spoiling her the way you do.’
‘I’m frightened of a cat jumping on the pram,’ Mary said. ‘I’ve heard of a cat sitting on a baby’s face and smothering it.’
‘It’s probably an old wives’ tale, lass! If you believed everything you hear you’ll never let the child see daylight!’
‘I’ll take her for a walk after and she’ll get some fresh air then.’ Mary sat facing her mother, her hands clasped tightly on her lap. ‘Mam, I want to talk to you about the Wests.’
‘What about them?’
‘I’m going to write to them about Emma.’ Mary heard the loud gasp and held up her hand. ‘Mam, let me finish, please! I can’t get them out of my mind because I think it’s wicked not to tell them they’ve got a granddaughter. They’ve lost so much, I can’t live with meself knowing I’m robbing them of Emma, too!’
‘You’re not the only one who thinks about them, lass,’ Martha murmured softly. ‘You don’t think for one moment that I’ve forgotten about Bob or his mam and dad, do you? Bob was like a son to me, and many’s the night I’ve cried meself to sleep over him. And I go through the same hurt as you do every time you look at the baby and see Bob in every one of her features. People say she’s the spitting image of you, and she may be, but there’s plenty of Bob in her too.’ Martha picked nervously at her pinny. ‘My heart goes out to the Wests, lass, but you know how Harry feels. You’ve got to consider his feelings.’
‘Even if he’s in the wrong, Mam? Am I supposed to do as he says even though what we’re doing is cruel and deceitful? The Wests have a granddaughter and they don’t even know she exists! They lost their only son and I think it’s inhuman not to tell them he left behind a beautiful daughter. They’d be so happy if they knew … it would give them an incentive to go on living.’
‘What do you intend doing, lass?’ Martha knew her daughter was right, but she could also understand Harry’s reluctance to allow the Wests into their lives.
‘I don’t know yet,’ Mary answered, ‘but I’ve got to do something. Things are getting worse between me and Harry, and I know it’s my fault. My nerves are on edge all the time and I’m taking it out on him. If I could only clear my conscience over the Wests, I’m sure Harry and I would get along a lot better.’
‘Harry won’t have it, lass, and I’m not going to get involved because I can see his side of it, too!’
‘Then I won’t tell him,’ Mary said defiantly. ‘I’ll write and explain everything to them and at least it will clear my conscience.’
‘What good would that do!?’ Martha’s voice rose, then remembering the sleeping baby, she went on quietly. ‘You can’t tell them they’ve got a granddaughter and expect them not to want to see her! Anyway, they probably know all about her! Everyone in the old neighbourhood knows it’s Bob’s baby so it’s bound to have got to them through their niece, Joyce!’
‘It’s me who should tell them, Mam! They shouldn’t have to hear it through gossip.’
‘And you’re not going to tell Harry
?’
Mary shook her head. ‘There’d only be a row and he’d talk me out of it. For once in my life I’m going to do something off me own bat. I’ll write to them and take it from there.’
‘Then leave me out of it, lass. If you’re going behind Harry’s back, I want no part of it.’
‘I won’t involve you, Mam, if that’s the way you feel. I just want you to know that it’s something I’ve got to do.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘Was that the postman I heard before?’ Martha pursed her lips when she saw the guilt on Mary’s face. ‘You’ve had a letter from the Wests!?’
‘Mam, you should read their letter. They sound so happy, I’m glad I wrote.’
‘What would you have done if Harry had been home?’ Martha wondered if her daughter understood the seriousness of what she was doing, and what it could lead to. ‘Remember, lass, one lie leads to another. And a liar has to have a good memory.’
‘I haven’t told any lies!’
‘Acting a lie is just as bad as telling one.’ Martha clicked her tongue. ‘You’ve done what you thought you had to, so leave it at that before you get found out.’
‘I explained to them about Harry, and they say they understand and won’t come near the house. But they want to see Emma, just once.’
‘Don’t tell me any more, lass, because I might as well tell you straight that I’ve no intention of covering up for you.’
So Mary didn’t say the letter she’d already scribbled to the Wests was in her pocket ready to post when she took Emma to the shops.
But the following Tuesday, when Harry had left for work on the afternoon shift, Mary could feel her mother’s watchful eye on her, and knew her nervous excitement hadn’t gone unnoticed. So after wrapping Emma in the big shawl Mrs Sedgemoor had knitted, she popped her head round the door of the front room. ‘I’m taking Emma out for an hour, Mam, I’ll be back in time for her feed.’ And she fled before any questions could be asked.
Martha watched Mary pass the window, the baby cradled in her arms. She didn’t need telling her daughter was on her way to meet the Wests. Martha let the curtain fall back into place. Where was it all going to end?