When Day is Done

by When Day is Done (retail) (epub

  ‘Aunt Kate always seems happy in a quiet way, though, doesn’t she?’ said Richard.

  ‘Yes, that’s one way she’s been blessed,’ said Essy. ‘She always sees the best in people and she’s never sorry for herself, yet your mother—’ She thought better of whatever she had been about to say, and exclaimed instead, ‘Look at your John!’ And she bustled into the garden, followed by Richard, and began to call John down from the tree he had climbed.

  John had nearly reached the top of the tree and was now crawling along one of the branches. ‘I just want to try this,’ he called. ‘See if I can lie along it like the cat.’ He lay flat, but the branch began to sway ominously.

  Essy screamed, and Richard shouted, ‘Come down, you barmy coot. You’re heavier than a cat and you haven’t got claws.’

  As John began to climb down, Essy said faintly, ‘He’ll be the death of me. Your mam would never forgive me if anything happened to him, but he doesn’t know what fear is. I don’t know what’s to become of him.’

  Richard laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Essy. He’ll either be a mountaineer or a cat burglar, but he’ll enjoy himself whatever he does,’ he said.

  Kate often visited Essy, partly to escape from the surroundings of the home where she now worked. It was situated near the docks at Bootle, among mean streets where it seemed to Kate there were as many barefooted children and hopeless, out-of-work men as in her childhood, and she missed her walks around the pleasant area of Waterloo.

  As so often happens, after first hearing about war rumours from Richard, Kate then heard them from various sources. She asked the opinion of the handyman at the home, a surly man with only one eye and a badly scarred face due to war injury. He had lost his wife and two sons in the influenza epidemic of 1919, and he agreed with her that war was unlikely.

  ‘If my lads had lived I wouldn’t let them fight, and there’s plenty like me. We seen the way we was just cannon fodder in the last one and not wanted when it was over. Anyhow, the young ones now aren’t mugs like we were. They know more with the wireless and that.’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ Kate said eagerly. ‘Nobody would be stupid enough to want another war so soon.’

  ‘Some’ll want it,’ the man said. ‘Them that’d make money outa it, but they can do their own fighting this time.’

  Kate also spoke about the rumours when she was alone with Robert, and she was dismayed when he told her that trade was picking up and that he thought it was because the country was re-arming. ‘It doesn’t necessarily mean war, though, Kate,’ he said. ‘Just being prepared and letting other countries know that we are.’

  ‘Joe Taggart, the handyman, says men won’t fight this time. He thinks young men will remember how their fathers were treated after the last war and refuse to fight,’ said Kate.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t agree. There’s still a lot of goodwill and patriotism in the country, in spite of all our troubles. Remember the celebrations for the Silver Jubilee?’

  ‘Yes, flags and parties even in the poorest streets,’ Kate agreed. ‘Everyone liked King George and Queen Mary.’

  ‘I had great respect for him myself,’ said Robert. ‘For both of them. Their family life and those down-to-earth Christmas broadcasts. There was real grief when he died. But it’s not only royalty. In ‘32, when the government asked people to pay income tax promptly to help the economy, income tax offices were besieged from New Year’s Day onwards by people wanting to pay.’ He smiled at Kate. ‘Revolution is not the English way, Kate. We’ll muddle through somehow, as we always do.’

  Kate smiled at him, feeling reassured, and though she was relieved when the family returned safely from Austria, she was not unduly worried while they were away.

  Although Kate was sure that Robert was right and she was happy to forget the talk of another war, she found that it had revived her memories of the first, which people were now calling the Great War. During the night, if she was unable to sleep, she remembered those years when it seemed her life had been dominated by her fear for Henry and those awful casualty lists in the Echo. She recalled searching down them every night, and then the horror of seeing Henry’s name there, and all that had followed.

  Eighteen years ago, but still as vivid to Kate as if it was yesterday. The memory of Henry was always with her, but usually as a comfort, especially when she was feeling lonely or discouraged. Now, though, her thoughts were all of her terrible grief at his death.

  One night as she lay unable to sleep, it occurred to her that Henry’s son would be old enough to fight if war came now. She switched on the light and looked at the snapshot of Henry with the smiling baby in his arms. Impossible to think of the little boy as a man, perhaps in uniform like his father. Kate had never seen the child, as Agnes had left the district after Henry’s death, and Kate later heard that she had remarried. It was a relief when daylight came and other cares drove out the fears of the night.

  In December the hints of impending war were swept from the newspapers and from the minds of most people by news of a romance between King Edward VIII and a twice-divorced American, Mrs Simpson. The country was bitterly divided on the question of whether or not they should marry.

  Kate had always admired the King when, as Prince of Wales, he had founded occupational centres for the unemployed, and made unannounced visits to mining villages and seen the misery there. ‘Something must be done,’ he had said, and she had hoped that as King he would do something about the misery she saw in the slums around the home.

  Kate and Robert often discussed matters which neither of them would mention to Rose because they both felt an instinctive desire to shield her from anything worrying or unpleasant. The King and Mrs Simpson, however, was a topic which Kate could discuss with her sister, and they agreed that the politicians and churchmen involved were hypocrites in condemning the King.

  ‘I think Baldwin and that crew are afraid he’ll go too deeply into things they want covered up, like the state of the mining villages,’ Kate declared. ‘They want him out because he’s too independent.’

  Rose agreed. ‘And the Archbishop of Canterbury saying it’s a question of religion and morals,’ she said. ‘If he behaved like his grandfather, Edward VII, and married some foreign royalty for an heir and took Mrs Simpson as a mistress, they would say nothing.’

  ‘Yes, the churchmen never condemn society people when they have these country house parties with connecting doors to the bedrooms of men and women who are married to other people, do they?’ Kate said.

  ‘Exactly. The King’s got more principles. He wants to marry her,’ said Rose. ‘Mind you, Kate, I wouldn’t agree with her for Queen, and I don’t think many people would.’

  ‘Oh, heavens, no,’ said Kate.

  Robert listened in amazement at the extent of their knowledge, but wisely said nothing.

  All speculation was ended when on 11 December Edward VIII announced his abdication in a moving message on the wireless.

  The newspapers again carried reports of trouble abroad and the danger of war, but few people took them seriously. Even the sight on Pathé News in cinemas of enormous rallies in Germany presided over by Herr Hitler only amused people because of his resemblance to the comedian Charlie Chaplin.

  Kate was too busy at the home to pay any attention to the news. The charity employed a cook but could only pay a pittance, and cooks never stayed very long. Volunteers who came to help were not reliable, and Kate found that she was spending more and more of her time in the kitchen.

  She enjoyed cooking and was willing to help out in an emergency, but it left less time for her other duties. She wanted to be free to help the girls at the most traumatic part of their stay in the home, when their babies were six weeks old and had to be handed over for adoption.

  Many of the girls when they first arrived, homeless and desperate, saw adoption as the solution to their plight, although some resisted the idea, but once their babies were born, all the girls wanted to keep them. Kate thought it was
a refinement of cruelty that the babies stayed with the mothers for six weeks, to be breast-fed for two weeks then weaned by the time they were handed over for adoption.

  She said so to the committee of charitable ladies who administered the home, but they did not agree. ‘We must be practical, Miss Drew,’ they told her kindly. ‘At six weeks the babies are settled into a routine so it’s easier for the adoptive mother, and by that time the girls have got over the birth and are ready to start their lives again.’

  ‘But by six weeks the girls are attached to the babies and the babies to them,’ Kate said. ‘If they have to be separated it should be right away,’ but the ladies told her that she was mistaken. They were acting for the best for everybody, and the rules remained the same.

  All Kate could do was try to comfort the girls when the time came for parting. ‘I’m not going to hand him over,’ a girl named Marie sobbed to her. ‘They said he’ll be going to a good home where he’ll have all the things I can’t give him, but how do I know how they’ll treat him? Nobody can love him the way I love him. That’s more important, isn’t it, Kate, even if we have to live in one room.’

  ‘It is, but how will you live, Marie?’ said Kate. ‘Is there no hope that his father could help?’

  Marie was a quiet, reserved girl, and even when helping Kate in the kitchen she had never spoken about the father of her baby. Kate never asked questions but listened and tried to advise the girls when they wanted to confide in her.

  ‘No. He’s a teacher. His wife’s been in hospital with TB for six years and he’s got two little girls, seven and nine. Every penny of his salary is spoken for.’

  ‘It’s very difficult, I know,’ Kate said. ‘We’ll have to think of what’s best for everyone.’

  Marie, calmer now, said, ‘Don’t think badly of him, Kate. We didn’t mean this to happen. I only went to his house about his little girl. I was a teacher too and I felt so sorry for him. He was so lonely and we thought we could just be friends. We let our feelings get too much for us just once, and this is the result.’

  ‘Couldn’t you go back to teaching and get someone to look after the baby during the day?’ Kate said.

  Marie laughed bitterly. ‘It’s hard enough to get a job when everything’s straightforward. I wouldn’t have a hope with a year unaccounted for. Anyway, they won’t employ married women so they’re not likely to take someone who should be married and isn’t,’ she said.

  ‘Will you see him again?’ Kate asked.

  ‘No,’ said Marie firmly. ‘This is my problem and I’ll deal with it. Nick has enough to cope with. We’ve got to keep it from his wife. It’s bad enough for her being separated from him and the children through no fault of her own, and she’s got the illness to bear as well. I couldn’t do anything to make it worse for her.’

  Kate hugged her. ‘You’re a really nice, good girl, Marie,’ she said. ‘You deserve to be happy. Don’t give up hope yet.’ An idea had been forming in her mind, but before saying anything she discussed it with Robert. After telling him about Marie, she said that she had thought of renting a small house where she and Marie could live. She would look after the baby while Marie worked. ‘She’s a trained teacher but she’d be willing to work at anything.’

  Robert shook his head. ‘It wouldn’t work, Kate,’ he said. ‘Any job she could get would be too poorly paid to support two adults and a baby.’

  ‘I don’t mean her to support me,’ Kate protested. ‘I’d pay my share.’

  ‘Yes, but the interest on your money wouldn’t be sufficient and you’d have to start using your capital. That would soon be used, Kate. To make a scheme like this viable you’d have to have several girls and their babies, and there’d be numerous difficulties,’ Robert said gently.

  ‘I’d thought of that,’ said Kate. ‘There are other girls in the home like Marie. They would be company for one another and the babies would grow up together.’

  ‘Kate, Kate, think this through,’ Robert urged her. ‘Make allowances for human nature. The girls would be very protective towards their children and jealous if they fancied you gave more attention to one than another. Then look ahead. When the children were growing up there would be quarrels. Also, although the girls might grasp at this as a short-term solution, the day might come when they would regret it and blame you. If they met another man, for instance, who wouldn’t accept their child.’

  ‘It seemed such a simple idea,’ Kate said sadly.

  Robert patted her hand. ‘I’m sorry to have to act as devil’s advocate, but I don’t want you to be hurt because of your soft heart. You’re very dear to all of us you know, Kate.’ He smiled at her.

  ‘Thank you,’ Kate said. ‘And thanks for your advice. I’m glad I was able to discuss it with you.’

  ‘You know that if it was just a question of money I’d help out,’ he said. ‘I’ve sailed very close to the wind a few times during the past eight years, but thank God things are on an even keel again now. It’s the emotional and practical problems of this idea I’m concerned about.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought ahead,’ Kate admitted. ‘I’m just so sorry for Marie and the other girls.’

  ‘It does credit to your good heart, Kate, but think. It would soon be known why the girls were living with you, and the children would be branded. Other children can be cruel. Adults too, for that matter,’ said Robert.

  ‘I know. One of our girls worked in a biscuit factory and she was sacked as soon as they knew about the baby. They said it wouldn’t be fair to the other girls to keep her on. She was very bitter. She said to me, “I know lots of the girls went all the way with their boyfriends. They were just more crafty than me.”’

  Robert was horrified that Kate heard conversations like this and wished that he could shelter her from things as he did Rose, but he only said, ‘It’s true what they say, “Only the good girls have babies”.’

  Kate saw the sense in Robert’s arguments and reluctantly abandoned the scheme. Marie too had to abandon her plan to keep her baby. It was pointed out to her that she would be selfish to deprive the baby of a good home with a mother and father and every comfort just because she wanted to keep him.

  ‘I suppose it’s true, Kate,’ she said sadly, ‘I couldn’t give him those comforts. But the thing that decided me was when one of them said that with me he’d have to go through life with the stigma of being illegitimate. If he was adopted he would never know and neither would anyone else. I’ve got to do what’s best for him, but oh Kate, I don’t know how I’ll bear it when I have to give him up.’

  Kate tried to comfort Marie and did the only thing she could to help. Although it was strictly against the rules she managed to learn the name and address of the adoptive parents and gave the information to Marie, who wept with gratitude.

  ‘I won’t approach them, honestly, Kate,’ she said. ‘But if I can just see him out in his pram and know that he’s happy and healthy, it’ll help me so much.’

  Robert worried that Kate was becoming too emotionally involved with the girls in the home. He spoke to Richard about it when his son was home on holiday.

  ‘The more I see of Kate the more I respect her,’ he said, ‘but as Essy says, she’s too soft-hearted for her own good. Certainly for working in a place like that. I must try to get her to leave it.’

  ‘Won’t be easy,’ Richard said. ‘She’s very strong-willed although she seems so gentle. Why did she and Mum fall out of touch for so many years?’

  ‘I don’t know. They never speak of it so I leave well alone,’ said Robert.

  Richard laughed. ‘Essy often drops hints,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think she knows any more than we do.’

  Now seventeen years old, Richard had already grown taller than his father, but otherwise the physical likeness between them was striking and their minds were in tune too. Nevertheless, now that it was time for Richard to think about his future, he found that he could speak more freely to Kate than to either of his parents. He told he
r that they had different ambitions for him.

  ‘Mum wants me to go to university to read law or medicine,’ he said, ‘but Dad’s hoping I’ll go into the business with him, even if I have three years at ‘varsity first.’

  ‘But what do you want to do, Rich?’ Kate asked.

  ‘I don’t really know,’ he said honestly. ‘But I know I don’t want to do either medicine or law. John’s a better bet for that sort of thing because he’s so brainy, but it seems a bit feeble just to go into the business.’

  ‘Not if it’s what you want to do,’ Kate said.

  ‘I don’t know what I want, that’s the trouble,’ he said, looking worried.

  ‘But you’re not eighteen until July,’ said Kate. ‘You’ve got plenty of time.’

  ‘I’ll take my Higher School Certif, then,’ Richard said. ‘I suppose it depends partly on how well I do in that. Dad says I can have a year for a bit of travelling and other things and apply for the 1939 intake, when I’ll be nineteen. I might have more idea then.’

  ‘But at least you know what you don’t want to do,’ Kate said, smiling at him.

  ‘You know what I have wondered about, Aunt Kate? Politics. You know Dad asked us to help last Christmas with that charity he’s involved in? Making up grocery parcels and taking them round. It was a shock to see how some people have to live. Hungry and ragged and existing in a few rooms in falling-down houses. I’d never realised. Felt as if I’d been walking round with my eyes shut.’

  ‘I know,’ said Kate. ‘It’s like that near the home. Makes my blood boil. It seems no better than when I was a child, although the Corporation are building nice houses now out at Queens Drive and Norris Green and other places.’

  ‘That’s what I mean,’ Richard said eagerly. ‘I know the stuff Dad does helps, Christmas hotpots and grocery parcels and all that, but I’d like to get at the cause of it all. Get laws passed to change the system.’