Songbird

by Bell, Julia

  Mrs Holland rose to greet me as I entered the room and I smiled as she kissed my cheek. “Miss Pritchard, I’m delighted you’ve come back to visit me.” I looked around apprehensively and her rounded frame shook with laughter. “No, my dear, he’s not here today, so no need to worry. Please sit down.”

  I grinned and sat on the couch. “I’m relieved to hear that. It makes me quite nervous when someone is lurking in the foliage.”

  “I’m glad you have a sense of humour. It makes the situation a little less awkward.” She called to the maid who was awaiting instruction. “Bring some tea in, Jane dear.”

  “Do you find the situation awkward?” I asked rather surprised, after the maid had left.

  She sat down next to me. “These are unusual circumstances, that’s for sure. But I suppose this is what makes life interesting. It would be a boring world if everything was predictable.”

  I paused for a moment trying to collect my thoughts. “I need to ask you more questions.”

  “I’ll answer those I can, my dear. But you must understand that I’m sworn to some secrets.”

  “I do understand,” I said slowly. I quickly looked round the room, my eyes straying to the piano in the corner. I almost imagined a pair of shoes sticking out from under it. I glanced towards the curtains and the cabinet against the wall.

  Mrs Holland threw back her head and laughed merrily. “You really think he’s still hiding, don’t you? If you wish, you can search the room. But I assure you, we are quite alone.”

  I felt stupid and shook my head, smiling wryly. “This couple. The gentleman and his wife. Are they good people?”

  Mrs Holland seemed taken aback by my question. “They are a lovely couple. I’ve known them many years.”

  I wondered if she had been the lady’s nanny.

  “Would they make excellent parents?”

  “There’s no one better.”

  I licked my lips nervously. “And the gentleman. Is he nice?”

  “Very nice.”

  “Handsome?” I said in almost a whisper.

  She nodded. “I think him a remarkable gentleman. Very kind and considerate and generous to a fault. He has seen his wife hurting for want of a child and it’s hurt him too. I can’t speak too highly of him.”

  Of course, I realised that she was duty bound to say that. After all, she was probably being paid for her services too. But the look on her face seemed genuine and instinctively I knew she was telling the truth.

  “Does his wife really agree with this? I mean, it seems an extraordinary undertaking for a woman to consider.” A dreadful thought suddenly occurred to me. “She does know, doesn’t she?”

  Mrs Holland gave a small chuckle. “My dear, it was she who had the idea in the first place. Her husband was very unsure about it all but she persuaded him that she could love his child, even though it wouldn’t be hers.”

  The maid arrived with a tray of tea and Mrs Holland poured out two cups while I contemplated my thoughts. She offered me a biscuit from a plate. I took one and bit into it.

  “That must be a difficult decision to make,” I murmured. “She must so want a child.”

  “She does, my dear. More than anything.” She looked at me over gold-rimmed spectacles. “So, what’s your thoughts? Although please remember you still have a little more time to make your decision.”

  “If I did agree, then what would happen next?”

  She grimaced. “This is the difficult part and it’s only right that you know. It will help you make your decision.” Clearing her throat, she added quickly, “The lady wants me to verify that you are quite healthy and not already pregnant.”

  I felt aghast. “But I’m not!”

  “I assume that, but it’s all part of the agreement,” she said, patting my knee.

  I took another bite of my biscuit and then a gulp of tea. “How do you do that?” I asked innocently.

  It was difficult acting as though I had not had a child and I already had an inkling of what Mrs Holland would say. There was only one sure way of verifying if a woman was pregnant or not and that was the showing or not of her monthly bleeding.

  As if she could read my thoughts she said, “When is your monthly bleeding due?”

  “Not for another two weeks. About the middle of September.”

  “Is it regular?”

  “More or less.”

  She nodded. “I’m a midwife, my dear. So, you must put your trust in me. I will need you to visit me on the second day of your next monthly bleeding.”

  “Why?” I asked tentatively.

  “So that I can examine you.”

  “How?” I knew that my voice was becoming fainter with each question.

  “It’s a simple procedure and one you mustn’t worry about. I have to examine your cervix and verify that all is well.”

  I started to panic. “But if you see blood, isn’t that enough?”

  “I’m afraid not. That can be faked.”

  “They don’t seem to have much faith in me,” I muttered.

  Thankfully she didn’t seem offended. I hadn’t meant to cause offence, the words had left me unguarded.

  “I understand how you feel, my dear. Actually, I have a great deal of faith in you. I could see that you were a reliable, honest young woman as soon as I met you.” I hoped she didn’t notice me wince at that comment. “And so did the gentleman, believe it or not.” I stared at her in surprise. “Yes, he was quite taken with you. However, his wife is taking no part in this. She will never meet you and only knows you from what is told to her. She feels justified in making certain demands, asking for absolute guarantees.”

  I blew out a long breath. “I don’t suppose I blame her. In her position I would do just the same.”

  “I’m pleased you agree. Would you like another cup of tea?” I offered my cup and she refilled it from a silver pot. “What is your decision, now that you have further information? Would you like the remaining four days to think it over?”

  I thought for a moment. “All I keep thinking is that in ten months or so this will be at an end.”

  “And you’ll have twelve hundred pounds in your pocket,” she smiled.

  That seemed to clinch it for me. “All right,” I nodded. “I agree to do it.”

  Mrs Holland closed her eyes briefly as though she was relieved. “I’m so pleased. You’re the right person, Miss Pritchard. And I know everything is going to be splendid.”

  Be splendid? There was a long way to go before anything was splendid. On the omnibus, I rooted for my wedding ring and found it in the corner of the pouch. I slipped it back on my finger and as I did so, tears trickled down my cheeks. I tried to brush them away. I didn’t know why I was crying, it seemed a silly thing to do. But on that gloriously hot afternoon, at the end of August, I felt very dispirited. I looked around at the passengers travelling with me and I felt apart from them. Their happy chatter and laughter only made me more melancholy. The young couple in front of me kept stealing kisses and it made my tears flow faster. I felt lonely. And when I arrived home I hugged Danny as if I had not seen him for months. He gave me a kiss and patted my cheek. I would put money away for his schooling, I thought. And when I did become famous, he would want for nothing. I slept a little better that night.

  I don’t know how I got through the next few weeks. Sometimes I felt like dashing to Gibson Place and telling Mrs Holland that I couldn’t go through with it. And then there were other times when the lesson I was giving was so torturous, that I was relieved that an end was in sight.

  On the seventeenth of September I woke up with stomach cramps and a few hours later my monthly bleeding began. The rags Nan and I used were old sheets, towels, or pillowcases, torn into squares. They didn’t absorb and often the blood would seep into our underwear. It was a messy time of the month and we just had to cope with it, but knowing that I was to undergo an intimate examination filled me with horror. I had never been ‘interfered’ with at that time of the month a
nd I felt angry that it was necessary in the first place. I wondered what would happen if I didn’t turn up. Would they be angry? But then I remembered the money and that compelled me to set off the following day to keep my four o’clock appointment with Mrs Holland.

  Again, she was delighted to see me and her easy manner made me relax.

  “You’re looking very pale, my dear. Are you in a lot of pain?” I nodded, embarrassed and she gave a sigh. “It’s not a pleasant time of the month. It must be a lot easier being a man, don’t you think?” I had to agree. “I think we should go upstairs now and get it over with, don’t you?” I agreed again.

  I followed her upstairs to a small bedroom at the rear of the house. She closed the door on us and I quickly glanced around. There was a single bed, its head against the wall with a cabinet next to it. A wardrobe stood near the window with a dresser close by. The room was obviously unoccupied since it was devoid of any personal items. Mrs Holland took a sheet from the dresser, folded it into four and placed it on top of the quilt in the centre of the bed.

  “Now, I want you to take off your boots and dress,” she smiled pleasantly. “Remove your bloomers but keep your petticoat on and then lay down on top of the sheet there.”

  I unlaced my boots and kicked them off and then undid the buttons on my dress, slipping it down and stepping out of it. Pulling down my drawers including the soiled rags, I eased myself onto the folded sheet, wanting this to be done with as soon as possible. Mrs Holland drew my petticoat right above my waist, talking to me all the time. I tried to concentrate on her voice. She was kind and her tone was encouraging. It seemed she didn’t like this task either but she was under the same instructions as I.

  I hadn’t notice the wooden tray by the side of the bed, covered with a small, white cloth, but when Mrs Holland went beneath the cloth and took out a shiny metal instrument, I gave a cry of alarm. She reassured me and told me to spread my knees and relax. I gripped the edge of the bed as she opened me up with the implement and peered inside me. I felt like crying. It was uncomfortable even though I knew she was being as gentle as possible.

  “Is everything all right?” I gasped, as tears welled up behind my eyes.

  “Everything is well, my dear,” she said, smiling. “A perfectly healthy cervix and the blood seeping through as it should.” Mrs Holland put the instrument on top of the cloth lying in the tray and then fetched some fresh rags to put between my legs. She helped me sit on the side of the bed. “All done, my dear. My lady will have no worries about you.” She removed the sodden sheet from the bed and collected the tray. “Now you get dressed and come down for a cup of tea.” She was gone in an instant taking the sheet and tray with her.

  It was only as I was buttoning my dress that I realised that Mrs Holland would now know that I wasn’t a virgin. She must have discovered that fact during the examination. I bit my lip. Would that make a difference? But then surely the gentleman and lady wouldn’t expect a virgin to agree to do something like this? A maiden would never risk her reputation or her chances of marrying by selling her virginity too. I felt reassured with that argument, but it was only as I went downstairs, that I realised that Mrs Holland might also know that I had given birth.

  We had our tea in the parlour and no more was said about the examination. If Mrs Holland knew anything then she wasn’t going to make any comment to me. It might be a different story with her ‘employers’, she might be obliged to tell them everything she knew. As I listened to her happy chatter, I smiled over my teacup. Mrs Holland was a lovely lady and I suddenly knew that everything was all right. Her instructions were that she must verify that I wasn’t pregnant and she had done that. It seemed that that was all she needed to know.

  “Are you still in pain?” asked Mrs Holland, placing her cup down on the table.

  I nodded. “I feel a little sick.”

  “You did very well. Such a brave girl.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll go and get you something for the pain. Once that’s gone, the sickness will disappear too.” I tried to tell her not to trouble herself, but she was bustling through the door before I could open my mouth. She returned five minutes later with a glass filled with a small amount of amber liquid. She offered it to me and I took it and peered into the dark contents. “It’s a measure of brandy with a few drops of distilled mandrake root. It will help you.”

  I tasted it and then drank it all. It felt warm as it went down and the feeling in my stomach was very pleasurable. “Thank you,” I murmured. I put the glass on the occasional table with the tea things. “What happens now?”

  Mrs Holland sat back in the large armchair and smiled. “You meet the gentleman.”

  My heart began to speed up making me breathe rapidly. “When?”

  She stood and walked across to a small bureau and returned with a black book. “You’ll be taking luncheon with him…let me see.” She flicked through the pages of what was obviously a diary before resuming her seat. “We’ll say in four days’ time on the twenty-second. You should be through all this messy business by then.”

  I swallowed hard. “Luncheon?”

  “Here, in my home. The meal will be served at twelve-thirty so I suggest you arrive at twelve-fifteen.”

  “Then what?”

  She snapped the book shut. “Nothing, my dear. You’ll simply have luncheon with him and get to know each other.”

  “Is that how the gentleman wants it?”

  “He does.”

  “But when will…?” The question drifted unfinished into the air.

  Mrs Holland smiled. “You’ll meet again two days later and we hope the arrangements we’ve made will not disrupt your routine too much.” She gave a gentle chuckle. “After all, you have your music lessons and your own commitments. So, you will take luncheon with him and then the afternoon will be spent together, but the gentleman must leave at four-thirty in order to get ready for his evening engagements.”

  “He isn’t staying here?”

  She shook her head. “No, he’s not. But as from this moment, my dear, you are under my care.” She looked at me through serious eyes. “You must put yourself in my hands and obey my instructions.”

  “I will of course,” I answered. I looked down at the teacups. “And so, that will be it.”

  Again, Mrs Holland gave a chuckle that came from deep down within her. “No, my dear girl, you will return every three days and the procedure will be repeated. And that will continue until a few days before your next monthly bleeding is due.”

  My eyes widened in horror. “I’ll be seeing him all that time?”

  She nodded. “I’m afraid it has to be so. We have no idea when a woman conceives. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, if we did? Just think of all those poor mothers worn down with constant pregnancies. If we had such knowledge, then they could avoid that time of the month and perhaps plan the number of children they have.” She sighed sadly. “But alas, that mystery is unknown to us.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The twenty-second of September started like any other. I awoke with Danny sitting up in his cot, calling me. I rolled out of bed and went to open the curtains, letting in the shimmering sheen of the moon. The room filled with silver shadows and I could see Danny’s outline as he held out his arms for me. I lifted him out of his cot and jumped back into bed. It was only five o’clock and I had always hoped that the darker mornings would help him sleep a little longer, but it seemed that he was like his father and liked to be up and about as soon as he was awake. I snuggled him down next to me and began to sing the lullaby that he loved so much. He sang along with me and I smiled as he watched my mouth and tried to imitate the movements.

  Today was the day I would take luncheon with Mrs Holland’s gentleman and I wondered how it would all turn out. He had had a good look at me during the interview, but I had no idea what he looked like. If I had walked past him in the street, I wouldn’t have known him. That very notion had caused me to scrutinise every gentleman that raised his hat in polite gr
eeting, imagining if that was he. But today I would finally meet him.

  I managed to keep Danny in bed until the sun’s soft glow warmed the room and then I heard Nan getting up. She was always up first to make the fire in the range ready for boiling water and then she would prepare breakfast.

  “Are you awake, Isabelle?” she called across the landing. “I suppose you are. Do you still want a bath this morning?”

  “Yes please,” I shouted back.

  Although I washed every day, I enjoyed the luxury of a bath once a week. Nan liked hers on a Sunday, but I never had a routine with mine. I took it when it was convenient and that morning I had decided that immersing myself in hot water would help me relax.

  “I’ll heat up the water, then,” said Nan. The stairs creaked under her feet.

  She liked a good thirty minutes alone in the kitchen while she did her chores. It was a routine she had established when she had lived with her friend and when I moved in I could see no reason for changing it. I dressed Danny and then slipping on my dressing gown, I carried him downstairs. We sat together and ate our breakfast of porridge, slices of toast and a cup of tea. Nan put the honey pot on the table and I poured a little over my porridge. We couldn’t always afford honey and it made me sigh how I would eat it without thinking when I lived in Cwmdare. Now we had to count the pennies.

  Nan had placed the galvanised bath beside the range and I filled the large tub with hot water.

  “Would you like some oil of violets in that?” she said. I nodded and she brought a small bottle from the cupboard and put in a few drops. “That should make you smell nice,” she grinned and I looked at her in alarm. Did she know that I wanted to be fragrant that day of all days? I shuddered at what she would say if she only knew.

  I took off my dressing gown and nightdress and then stepped into the bath, lowering myself into the water.

  “How are you getting on with Stephanie’s wedding dress?” I asked, as I splashed the water to make Danny giggle from his highchair.