by Joan Jonker
There would have been a fight over who was to have first go, but with their mother and Mary watching, Joan and Edna silently agreed to share the honour of pushing the ‘posh’ pram. Four thin hands curved round the handlebar, and with their friends taking up positions on either side, the procession set off.
‘Look at the gobs on my two!’ Eileen chuckled. ‘Yer’d think butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths, but they’ll be tearin’ each other’s hair out later.’
‘Let’s go in and have a cup of tea.’ Mary took her elbow. ‘I want to have a talk to you.’
Maggie had already made a pot of tea and had managed to find two cups that not only had matching saucers, but boasted handles as well. She placed them on the table then excused herself. ‘I’ve got some baking to do.’
‘Don’t yer ever sit down, Mam?’ Eileen’s chins wobbled. ‘I’m sure yer’ve got a boil on yer backside or summat.’
‘It’s a pity you haven’t got one on your tongue.’ Maggie winked at Mary as she passed. ‘I’ll sit down when I’ve made the cakes.’
Eileen spread her dimpled elbows on the table. ‘How’s it goin’, kid?’
‘It’s weeks since you’ve been to ours,’ Mary scolded. ‘Me and me mam were beginning to think you’d fallen out with us.’
‘I’ve been busy, kid!’ Then Eileen tutted with self disgust. ‘What the hell am I lying for!? I haven’t been to yours because the last time I was there I opened me mouth too much. An’ I’ve made up me mind to keep out of your affairs.’
‘I don’t want you to keep out of my affairs!’ Mary cried. ‘And as for telling lies, you’d have to be good to beat me at that!’
‘You tellin’ lies, kid? Yer jokin’!’
This is the right time, Mary told herself. She wanted Eileen to hear it from her own lips and not from someone else. ‘I’ve done more than tell lies,’ she said softly. ‘If I tell you the whole story, will you sit still and say nothing till I’ve finished?’
Eileen crossed her heart. ‘Me lips are sealed.’
Mary laced the fingers of her two hands together and placed them palms down on the table. Her story began on the night of Bob’s twenty-four-hour embarkation leave. Her voice was slow and faltering at first, but as she re-lived the last sixteen, unhappy months, the words poured forth, unstoppable. Every feeling she’d kept locked away for so long was now aired with a burning passion.
Eileen sat perfectly still, taking in every word. Her expressionless face hid her inner confusion. The torment on Mary’s beautiful face, and in her voice, was having a profound effect as Eileen asked herself how she could have been so blind to Mary’s needs.
Mary paused for a while, and the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece. Then she took a deep breath. ‘In the bottom of one of the drawers in my dressing table, hidden away so no one can see it, is a beautiful nightdress that Bob’s mam must have spent hours embroidering for her granddaughter.’ Mary’s face looked drained. Everything was out in the open now, she’d left nothing out. ‘So now you know.’
Eileen sniffed loudly. ‘It’s not often I’m stuck for words, kid, but yer’ve fair knocked the stuffin’ out of me.’
‘D’you think I’ve done the right thing, Eileen? I think me mam agrees with me, but she won’t say so because of Harry.’
‘Don’t yer think I’ve interfered in yer life enough, kid? If I’d minded me own business in the first place, yer wouldn’t have married Harry, and yer life might have been different.’ Eileen picked up her cup and swirled the dregs of tea leaves around. ‘But I still think he’s the best thing that ever happened to yer, and I’ll never change me mind about that! An’ I think if yer tell him, quiet like, what yer’ve just told me, he’ll understand. Yer should have done it ages ago, kid, instead of shuttin’ him out like yer have.’
‘But d’you think I’ve done the right thing?’
‘Yes, kid, I do! But I wouldn’t tell Harry that if I were you. He wouldn’t take kindly to yer talkin’ to me instead of him.’
Mary blew out a deep breath. ‘I feel better now I’ve been able to get it all off me chest. I haven’t known a minute’s peace since Emma was born.’ A troubled look crossed her face. ‘But I’m dreading telling Harry.’
‘Do it right away, kid.’ Eileen advised. ‘Putting trouble off is like the interest at the pawn shop … it gets bigger every day.’
Mary had braced herself for an argument, but nothing had prepared her for the rage which followed the mention of the Wests’ name. Harry’s face was contorted with anger as he pointed an accusing finger at her. ‘You know how I feel about them, but you’ve deliberately gone against me wishes.’
‘I’ve said I’m sorry.’ Mary’s eyes were wide. ‘If you’ll give me a chance to explain.’
‘Explain! What is there to explain!?’ Harry’s anger was fuelled by fear. He saw this as the beginning of the end of their marriage. If Mary had any intention of trying to make a go of it, she’d never have done this to him. ‘You’ve done many things to hurt me, Mary, but I never thought when we got married that you’d ever cheat me.’
Mary jumped to her feet. ‘It was you who talked me into getting married!’ she shouted. ‘You and Eileen, and me mam! I didn’t want to marry you!’ She spun round, away from the stunned, hurt look on his face. Oh, she should never have said that, it was cruel. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.’
‘Oh, yes you did! It’s probably the only true thing you’ve said since the day we got married.’ Mary turned to face him, and now it was her turn to show anger. ‘Ask yourself this! If your mam and dad died, would you be able to push them out of your mind and never mention their name again? Of course you couldn’t; it wouldn’t be natural! But that’s what everyone expected of me! Forget Bob, and forget his mam and dad! They were like my own family, but I’m supposed to forget them! Well, I can’t do that!’
‘You don’t seem to have any trouble forgetting you’ve got a husband, though do you?’ They were facing each other now, and Harry’s face loomed nearer. ‘It’s me that doesn’t exist as far as you’re concerned!’
‘Don’t let’s shout at each other, please, Harry!’ Mary made a move to touch him, but drew back. ‘I’ve come to terms with Bob’s death now. But I’ll never be settled in my mind until I can mention his name without fear of upsetting someone, and by letting his mam and dad be part of his daughter’s life. She’s all they’ve got left of him.’ Mary saw the pain her words inflicted, and felt a great sadness. But these things needed to be brought out in the open. ‘Why can’t you understand they wouldn’t be a threat to our marriage? You are Emma’s daddy, and you always will be. And your parents will always be her nanna and granddad. Nothing will ever change that. All the Wests want is to see Emma for half an hour every few weeks. Is that too much to ask? They have so little, we have so much.’
‘What have I got, Mary, apart from your mam and Emma?’ Harry’s pain was so great he groaned aloud. ‘I haven’t got a wife, that’s for sure! You’re not married to me, you’re married to a ghost!’
‘And that ghost will never be laid to rest until I keep faith with it. Then I’ll be able to start a new life.’ Mary’s quiet voice went on. ‘Our marriage can survive if I have a clear conscience, Harry, I know it can. So I’m asking you to understand and help me.’
Harry sat down, his anger spent. ‘If I couldn’t feel any sympathy for the Wests, and all they’ve gone through, I’d have to be made of stone. And I’m not a hard man, Mary. I have all the sympathy in the world for them, and I understand how they feel about Emma. But I’m frightened that, through them, she might find out I’m not her real daddy. And that would kill me. She means everything to me.’
‘That will never happen, Harry, I promise.’ Mary was close to tears. ‘I know I’ve given you no reason to trust me, but on this you have my solemn word.’
Harry banged his hand against his forehead. ‘I can’t see it working out! What are you going to tell Emma when she’s o
lder and asks questions about who they are?’
‘We’ll do it in such a way that no one gets hurt, I’ll make sure of that.’ Mary held his gaze. ‘Just don’t deny them the chance of getting to know their own granddaughter. She’s all the family they’ve got now.’
Harry dropped his eyes. ‘I won’t stop you from taking Emma to see them, Mary. But try and understand things from my point of view. Seeing them with her would be a constant reminder to me that she’s not really mine, and I couldn’t bear that. So I don’t want them ever to come to this house. Will you give me your promise on that?’
‘I promise.’ Mary closed her eyes and thanked God for answering her prayers.
That night, Mary went to bed first as usual. And when Harry had finished reading the paper he popped his head round Martha’s door to say goodnight before climbing the stairs. He saw a glimmer of light from Mary’s room and thought Emma must have woken up. But when he reached the landing he found Mary standing in her doorway, silhouetted in the light from her bedside lamp. ‘I’ve brought your pyjamas in here.’ Mary spoke softly before walking back into her room.
His heart racing, Harry stood for a moment. Then he followed Mary and closed the door behind him.
The weeks sped by in an atmosphere of pleasant harmony. The guilt she’d carried for so long had gone now, and Mary went out of her way to please Harry and make up for all the pain she’d caused. She was friendly and affectionate with him, but somehow couldn’t show the loving she knew he craved. If Doris came in to babysit for them and they went to the pictures, she found it easy and natural to slip her hand into his in the darkness of the cinema. But she could never bring herself to throw her arms round him or kiss him. And no matter how hard she tried to return his kisses with feeling, she could tell by the disappointment in his eyes that that certain something was missing. It was the same in bed. She wanted to be a good wife and willed herself to match the passion in Harry’s lovemaking. But no matter how hard she tried, the spark was missing. And although Harry never spoke of it, she knew he was deeply hurt. She kept asking herself why she couldn’t love him, but she had no answer. Except, perhaps, that true love only comes along once. And her chance of a lifetime filled with love had died with Bob.
Harry came home from work one day to find Emma had pulled the tablecloth off the table and Mary was on her hands and knees picking up pieces of broken crockery. ‘I left her for ten seconds to go out to the bin, and came back to this!’ Mary sat back on her heels. ‘She’s been one little tinker today! You need eyes in the back of your head to keep up with her!’
Harry’s eyes went to the high chair where the cause of the trouble was now confined. He found an angel face creased in a welcoming smile, and two arms outstretched to be picked up. ‘Just look at her! Who could fall out with a face like that?’
‘I hope you feel the same when there’s no sugar for your tea.’ Mary went back to clearing up the mess. ‘The sugar basin was on the table, and that went for a burton, too! A whole week’s ration is mixed in with this lot.’
‘You’re in Mummy’s bad books today, princess!’ Harry raised the table front of the high chair and lifted Emma out. ‘You’ve been very naughty.’
‘You haven’t heard the half of it yet,’ Mary complained. ‘I caught her with my purse this morning, and before I could get to her, she’d put a penny in her mouth! I was worried sick! I had to coax her with a biscuit, to open her mouth. And while I was putting me purse in the cupboard where she couldn’t reach it, she was halfway up the stairs!’
‘I’ll put gates on the top and bottom of the stairs, and that should put a halt to your gallop, young lady.’
‘I don’t like getting bad tempered with her, but she wears me out!’ Mary looked up to see Emma raining kisses on Harry’s nose, and her mood softened. He was so good to Emma, and the baby adored him. ‘I’ve tried keeping her in the high chair while I get me work done, but she jerks back and forward on it, and I’m frightened of it tipping over. And I can’t leave her in me mam’s room, ’cos she’s into everything and me mam can’t handle her.’
‘Get a play pen,’ Harry suggested. ‘It would solve all your problems. She could play in it to her heart’s content while you do your work.’
‘That’s a good idea! I’ll have a look round tomorrow.’
But when Mary went into Emma’s room the next morning, all thoughts of a play pen were forgotten. Instead of the usual happy smile, the baby’s face was grey and her eyes dull and lifeless. Mary held the little body close, and a shiver of fear ran down her spine when she felt the cold, clammy forehead. She ran down the stairs, crying, ‘Mam, there’s something wrong with Emma!’
‘Give her here, lass.’ With Mary supporting the limp form, Martha examined Emma’s body for tell-tale signs of measles or chicken pox. She could find no rash or spots, but the dull, glazed eyes told her all was not well. ‘She’s probably sickening for something.’ Martha tried not to sound alarmed. ‘It could be the measles, or she could be teething.’
‘But she’s already got eight teeth, and she wasn’t like this when they were coming through.’ Mary clutched Emma to her breast and rocked gently from side to side.
‘Lass, you don’t know you’re born with her! Most babies cry all the time when they’re teething.’
‘Then why isn’t she crying now?!’ Mary wasn’t to be consoled. ‘I wouldn’t mind if she was crying, but she’s so lifeless!’
‘Lay her on my bed and go and ask Doris to come in.’ Not for the first time Martha cursed her own inability to help. ‘See what she thinks.’
Doris was still in her dressing gown, but one look at Mary’s distraught face and she was out of the door without a thought how she looked. She stood beside the bed looking down on the still figure. ‘I don’t know what to think, Mary! Your mam’s probably right; she could be sickening for something.’
Mary was kneeling beside the bed, her hand stroking the fevered brow, her eyes watching how laboured her daughter’s breathing was. ‘Ring for the doctor for us, would you, Doris? I can’t sit and watch her like this without doing anything.’
‘I’ll ring right away, and I’ll ask him to come as soon as he can.’ Doris turned at the door. ‘Don’t go worrying now! It’s probably nothing!’
Mary looked across at her mother. ‘I am worried, Mam! I wish Harry was home. He’d know what to do.’
Mary was in the hall when Harry opened the door and she flung herself at him, crying, ‘Our Emma’s sick!’
Harry put his two arms around her while kicking the door closed with his foot. ‘There now,’ he murmured soothingly. ‘Stop crying and tell me what’s wrong.’
Mary left the comfort of his arms to raise a tear-streaked face. ‘I’ve had the doctor out to Emma.’
With visions of his beloved princess falling down the stairs, or tipping her high chair over, the initial joy of having Mary rush into his arms turned to fear. But seeing Mary’s distress, he tried to speak calmly. ‘Don’t get yourself upset. Just tell me what’s wrong.’
Mary jerked her head. ‘Come and see her. She’s in me mam’s room.’
Harry passed Martha without a glance, dropping his coat on the floor as he went. He bent over the bed first, then dropped to his knees and took a tiny, hot hand in his. ‘Hello, my little princess! Daddy’s here to make you better.’
Emma turned her head on the pillow, but that was her only response. Her eyes remained closed, as though the effort to open them was too much. Harry felt her forehead, then his eyes met Mary’s across the bed. ‘What did the doctor say?’
‘He said he’s not sure. Her temperature’s very high, but he said she could be in for chicken pox, ’cos there’s a lot of it around.’
‘And if it’s not chicken pox?’
‘I don’t know!’ Mary’s nerves were near breaking point. ‘She’s been like that all day! I can’t even get her to open her eyes!’ She sat on the side of the bed and stroked the blonde curls, wet now with perspiration. ‘If she�
�s not better tomorrow I’m to call him out again. He’s left some medicine, and said she’s to be kept in the same temperature. So I’m bringing her cot down here, and I’ll sleep in with me mam.’
The night seemed never ending to Mary. She was out of bed every few minutes to make sure Emma was still breathing, and even standing at the side of the cot she could feel the heat from her daughter’s body.
‘It’s always worse at night, lass,’ Martha whispered when she felt Mary slipping back into bed. ‘She may be a bit brighter in the morning.’ But even as she was trying to reassure Mary, Martha was worrying herself sick. She was no doctor, but she thought the baby was too ill to be just sickening for chicken pox.
Harry popped his head round the door at five o’clock. He hadn’t been able to sleep, either. ‘What sort of night has she had?’
‘She hasn’t moved! A couple of times I couldn’t hear her breathing, and I thought she was dead.’ Mary’s tearful voice echoed her fear and desperation. ‘It’s been the longest night of me life.’
Harry crossed to peer over the cot, and an icy hand clutched his heart. His darling princess, usually full of smiles, looked like a china doll. There was no movement from her at all. ‘I’ll take the day off.’
‘No, you mustn’t stay off!’ Mary would dearly have loved him to stay by her side, because she was so frightened of what the day held in store. But she had to be sensible about it. Other women didn’t make their husbands stay off work every time one of their children was sick. ‘As soon as I hear them moving around next door, I’ll ask Doris to ring for the doctor.’
Harry hovered over the cot. ‘I think I should stay off.’
‘Harry, if the doctor says it’s anything serious, I’ll get Doris to ring the factory and you can come home.’
After Harry had left, Mary banked up the fire then made some tea and toast and carried it through to the front room. But the toast tasted like cotton wool in her mouth, and after the one mouthful she could eat no more. But she was thankful for the cup of tea. With her hands curled round the cup, she faced her mother. ‘When I’ve had this, I’ll wash and change Emma. It should be about eight o’clock then, and I can knock next door.’