by June Francis
‘No trouble, luv. As long as yer didn’t hurt yerself when yer fell against that tree.’
Kitty gazed at the tree which had a couple of crushed and bent branches. ‘I’ll buy it,’ she decided. ‘The boys’ll enjoy decorating it.’
‘Yer don’t have to,’ protested Mr Green but she could see her offer had pleased him so she insisted, and ordered John to take possession of the fir tree.
‘You must be feeling better,’ he drawled. ‘Giving your orders.’
‘I do feel better.’ She paid the stallholder, who wrapped old newspaper about the tree roots and and handed it to John. She picked up her basket and slipped her free hand into her husband’s arm and squeezed it. ‘You mustn’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,’ she said.
‘You still look pale.’ His gaze travelled slowly over her face. ‘You’ll do as you’re told and go and see Galloway. Go soon.’ She protested but John was not having any. ‘You’ll go if I have to drag you there by your hair,’ he commanded.
‘All right, I’ll go!’ She saw nothing for it but to do as he said.
They set the Christmas tree up in the Smoking Room. It was not often that Kitty was able to entertain her own friends or relatives but on Boxing Day she had invited the O’Neills for dinner before they went off to Ireland for the New Year, and she planned having Annie’s family for Hogmanay.
When the boys arrived home from school she handed scissors, glue and sheets of tinsel and coloured paper over and told them to get cracking. She dug out the box of candle holders and glass baubles they’d had for years and placed new candles in the holders. Several guests arrived on the scene and Kitty hurried into the kitchen to finish the preparations for dinner, leaving two of them helping the boys. At last she felt there was a real spirit of Christmas in the air and she began to enjoy herself, despite the fact that at the back of her mind she was wondering what to say to Dr Galloway when she saw him.
On the morning of her appointment Kitty washed from head to toe and put on her Sunday best. She was still undecided as to what to tell him when she arrived at the surgery. Perhaps she should just say she wanted a tonic? That she was feeling run down? It was true enough.
It was not until the door was opened by Celia that Kitty had a moment’s disquiet. With so much on her mind she had forgotten John’s god-daughter was working for the doctor. Then she asked herself what was she worrying about? The girl wasn’t to know why she was here. Celia smiled shyly, wished her a good morning and showed her to the waiting room.
Kitty thanked her and gazed about the room. There was only one other person there, whom she did not recognise, so she picked up a copy of Good Housekeeping and sat down. She realised she was a bag of nerves. It was a long time since she had been to the surgery. The boys were blessedly healthy, although all had suffered measles and chickenpox and Mick had had mumps. If they cut themselves or got the odd bump or cold, she dealt with it herself using concoctions passed on to her by her mother who’d had a fear of doctors and hospitals.
Kitty opened the magazine and flicked over a page. Her eyes caught the words The Children’s Charter. An explanation of the Children’s and Young Persons Act of 1933. She had heard of the Act, of course, and so read with interest, taking note of the hours a child under twelve could be employed, which meant not more than two hours on Sundays or school days. Those hours could not be during school hours or before six in the morning or after eight at night. She thought of Teddy who would soon be officially on her payroll.
The door opened and the other woman left the waiting room. Kitty read on. There was a conflict of opinions between the House of Lords and Commons over the birching of young boys. The Commons were against, the Lords for. Kitty mused on the issue and decided that there could be no hard and fast rule. She hated the thought of any child being beaten but crime was on the increase and that included juvenile crime and it needed to be dealt with.
Celia popped her head round the door. ‘Dr Galloway will see you now.’
Kitty was shown upstairs and into a room overlooking the street. Her legs felt shaky. Perhaps he would say she really was going through the change of life? Or worst that she had something seriously wrong with her?
The doctor was seated at a desk, writing. He lifted his head as she entered and his strained expression disappeared in a smile. Immediately her nervousness vanished and she stopped thinking of herself. This man had lost a child and could put a brave face on it, so what was her problem in comparison? He had the gentlest of grey eyes and a warm smile. ‘Good morning,’ he said.
‘Good morning, Doctor.’
‘Please sit down. I won’t keep you a moment.’
She sat and waited, thinking not for the first time how terrible it must be to lose your only child. He finished writing and leaned forward, clasping his hands on the sheet of pink blotting paper on the desk. ‘What can I do for you, Mrs McLeod? It’s not often I get to see you in here.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I’d like a tonic. I think I’m a bit run down. I – I fainted in the market.’
Dr Galloway got to his feet. ‘Let’s have a look at you.’
Kitty was alarmed. ‘You mean you’d like to look at my tongue?’ she babbled and stuck it out.
‘Very nice,’ he murmured. ‘But—’
‘My eyes then.’ She opened her eyes wide.
‘Mrs McLeod, please!’ He smiled but his expression was thoughtful when he took her wrist and held it for a few moments. ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?’ he said gently.
‘You won’t tell my husband?’ She could hear the anxiety in her voice and could have kicked herself for it. ‘What you tell me will be strictly confidential.’ His voice was grave. ‘Doctors take an oath about that sort of thing, Mrs McLeod.’
‘I know that but—’ She hesitated. ‘I’m having a baby and my husband’s not going to like it.’
Dr Galloway did not show the surprise she expected. ‘Up on the couch with you,’ he said. ‘I am sure you know what you’re talking about but let’s make certain.’
A few minutes later he was confirming her diagnosis and advising her to be confined at the new maternity hospital in Oxford Street. She had never been in hospital before and had caught some of her mother’s prejudices, but perhaps the new hospital would be different. She remembered the Princess Royal coming to lay the foundation stone when the hotels on the Mount had been decorated in her honour and the pavements lined with Girl Guides. Perhaps she would not have lost her little girl if she had gone into hospital then?
The doctor went over to the sink whilst she adjusted her clothing. Then he sat behind his desk and told her to sit down. ‘Sometimes Mr McLeod and I have a yarn,’ he murmured. ‘He’s led an interesting life and it’s a pity he never finished his training after the war.’
Kitty nodded, remembering that the doctor had served in the Liverpool Scottish Regiment. ‘I suppose you discuss the war.’
‘Sometimes. Interestingly your husband and I met Captain Chavasse. A brave man. You know of him, of course?’
‘Yes.’ Who didn’t in Liverpool, she thought. The captain had been a doctor and worked in the port before the war. He had won two Victoria Crosses and saved numerous lives at the cost of his own. His father had been a Bishop of Liverpool and was principal founder of the Anglican Cathedral. He had lost another son on the Somme. Such loss was a terrible burden to bear for any parent. ‘Sad,’ she understated.
‘Hard to lose a child at any time,’ said Dr Galloway, looking drawn. ‘Fortunately the bishop has another two sons and twin daughters. I had only the one and it is a great grief to me to have lost her. You’re worried about Mr McLeod’s reaction to your pregnancy. Well, don’t be, my dear. He’s been given a second chance at making something of his life because of his marriage to you and that can only be good for him.’ Kitty was touched. ‘Naturally he will worry about you,’ continued the doctor. ‘But I’m certain he will be pleased about the baby. Children are a blessing. I’ll give you an iro
n tonic and arrange about the hospital. You must eat well and make sure you have plenty of rest. If you do that I’m sure you’ll have no problems. Come and see me again in two months’ time and we’ll have a little chat.’
Kitty saw there was nothing more to be said. She thanked him and paid his fee on the way out. Celia held the door open for her and impulsively Kitty asked how she was.
‘Why do you ask?’ said Celia, two bright spots of colour appearing on her freckled cheeks.
‘I just wondered. I know how fond of Dr Galloway’s daughter you were.’
The girl looked relieved. ‘It was sad. Really sad! That’s why I’m staying on with the doctor. He says he likes to see a young face about the place. He’s having me trained to be a receptionist.’
‘I’m sure you’ll do well, Celia,’ said Kitty sincerely.
‘Thanks very much,’ said the girl, beaming at her. ‘And I hope you have a happy Christmas, Mrs McLeod. And all the family.’ She hesitated. ‘You’ll give my best wishes to Mick?’
‘I will,’ said Kitty.
‘Well?’ demanded John, taking both her hands as she entered the kitchen. It was with a sense of shock she realised he was shaking and immediately she was concerned about him.
‘I’m very well thank you.’ Her tone was confident. ‘He’s given me a tonic and told me I must look after myself because I’m not getting any younger.’
The worried lines about John’s eyes did not ease. ‘So he said everything was all right?’
‘Would I be smiling if he hadn’t?’ She twinkled at him.
He lifted one of her hands and kissed it. ‘But if you faint again you’ll go straight back there.’
‘Of course I will.’ She told herself she would tell him in the New Year. The last thing she wanted was him fussing about her all over Christmas, insisting that she rest. Rest at the moment was the last thing she could do.
‘You know the doctor’s going away for Christmas,’ said John.
‘He didn’t say.’
‘Well, he is. Which means Celia will be stuck with her mother and her fancy man, unless—’
Kitty caught on quickly. ‘Unless we ask her to do a couple of weeks’ work here, you mean?’
‘You could do with some extra help.’
Kitty hesitated, wondering whether Mick would like the idea. Should she ask him? Was it necessary? He hadn’t mentioned the girl in months, although she had sent her best wishes to him. She really could do with extra help and it would only be for two weeks.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Celia, shifting her gaze from Kitty’s face to polish the doctor’s brass plate with more than her customary vigour.
‘Do you want a day to think about it?’
‘Perhaps that would be best.’ She rubbed her cheek absently on her outstretched arm. ‘What does—? Have you—? Would I live in for the two weeks?’ she asked with a rush.
‘There’s a small guest room you can have. We’re never full at this time of year. When is Dr Galloway leaving for Scotland?’
‘The day after tomorrow. He’s going by the night express. He’s going to see his brother.’
‘Let me know by tomorrow then whether you’d like to come.’
‘Rightio. And thanks Mrs Ry – Mrs McLeod for thinking about me,’ said the girl, squeezing the duster between her hands and smiling. ‘I’ll think about it.’
Kitty said, ‘I’m sure we can make you feel at home – and you can have Christmas Day off to go and see your mother.’
‘Thanks.’
Kitty turned for home but she had not got far when Celia came dashing after her. ‘I’ve thought. I’ll come,’ said the girl.
‘Fine,’ said Kitty. ‘See you Saturday then.’
Celia nodded, thanked her again and ran back up the street.
That girl smiles with her whole heart, thought Kitty, and decided that perhaps she had better mention what she had done to Mick. She got her opportunity later when they were alone in the Smoking Room.
‘It looks lovely, doesn’t it?’ said Mick as he gazed at the candlelit and tinsel-bedecked tree.
‘Lovely,’ echoed Kitty, glancing at it before breaking a large lump of coal with the poker. She watched tiny jets of flame set alight the gas that hissed from fissures and thought with half her mind what a gift from God fire was. ‘By the way, son, I’ve asked Celia if she would like to come and work for us for a couple of weeks. Dr Galloway’s going to be away and I could do with some extra help. I’ve been feeling tired lately.’
Mick said casually, ‘If you want her to come let her come. It doesn’t make any difference to me.’
Oh, doesn’t it! she thought, not deceived. ‘That’s OK then.’ She smiled. ‘The poor girl’s upset. We’ll have to do our best to cheer her up.’
Mick nodded and went out of the room whistling.
Celia arrived the day before Christmas Eve. ‘Last shopping day before Christmas,’ said Kitty to those gathered in the kitchen. ‘We can flop after today. Make Sunday a real day of rest, but now there’s still work to do. Celia, would you empty the ashtrays in the Smoking Room and give the place a thorough going over. Then go on to the dining room. Hannah’s started on the bedrooms. You can help her upstairs after you’ve finished downstairs.’
‘Can I put a note on the Smoking Room chimney ledge, Ma?’ asked Ben.
‘Why?’ asked Mick, slipping Nelson a bit of sausage and not looking in Celia’s direction. ‘You’ve already put one up the chimney in the front basement.’
‘I’m worried in case it got burnt up,’ said Ben anxiously. ‘You know that chimney’s funny.’
‘I’m sure Father Christmas read it first,’ said Kitty soothingly, getting her shopping baskets. She glanced at John. ‘Are you coming? It’ll be the last time for three days and I need your strong right arm.’
He looked up from the letter he had received that morning and said starkly, ‘My brother’s dead! Died a few months ago. Now apparently his daughter’s coming to England and wants to meet me.’
She put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Do I offer you my condolences? You didn’t really know him, did you?’
He shook his head. ‘The letter was sent to my sister. She sent it to Uncle Donald and the solicitor’s sent it on. You’ll remember I wrote to him about us getting married.’
‘She didn’t know your uncle was dead?’
‘Apparently not, although we did inform her. She’s enclosed a covering letter to him but there’s no address on it. It seems she’s moved.’ He turned the letter over and shrugged.
‘She doesn’t want you to get in touch,’ said Kitty positively.
‘Seems like it.’ He rustled the letter between his fingers and his expression was rueful. ‘There’s something really strange here, Kit. How is this for timing? My brother’s daughter’s ship—’
‘You mean your niece,’ she said helpfully.
‘My niece,’ he said obediently. ‘Her ship’s due to dock in Liverpool today.’
‘I don’t believe it!’
He raised three fingers. ‘Scouts’ honour!’
She groaned. ‘What d’you want to do?’
‘I suppose I should find out what time it’s due in. It’s not often a distant member of my family turns up out of the blue.’
‘We’ll have to put her up,’ she said starkly.
He nodded. ‘You were going to have a rest.’
‘I don’t think we’ve got much of a choice. We have to offer. She’s family.’ Suddenly it all seemed too much and she sank onto a chair, still clutching the shopping baskets. ‘Gosh, I wish Annie was here.’
John took the baskets from her. ‘You are tired if you feel like that. Perhaps I shouldn’t ask Nancy to stay.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ Kitty forced a smile. ‘It’s only one person. Hannah won’t be going anywhere for Christmas and Celia will be around on Boxing Day. But do I put off the O’Neills? And what about presents? Do we buy her a present?’
‘I’ll see
to that.’ He helped her to her feet. ‘If I had my way I’d leave you here but you know what you want to buy. Let’s get it done. I can telephone Canadian Pacific from the Post Office and find out from them when the ship’s in.’
He glanced at his stepson. ‘Mick, I’ve made up the bills for those two sisters and that husband and wife. See you hand them over and get their money. No going out until it’s done, d’you hear?’
‘I hear,’ said Mick with a sigh. ‘But it’s all right for this evening, isn’t it?’
‘What’s this evening?’
‘We were all going to see King of the Jungle with Buster Crabbe, as well as Laurel and Hardy. You said it was your treat.’
‘Did I?’
Ben looked at John anxiously. ‘Yes, you did!’
‘I’d forgotten. We’ll have to see, laddie.’ He smiled and hustled Kitty out of the kitchen.
Mick and Ben exchanged glances. ‘We’ll have to see, laddie!’ Mick mimicked John’s voice and scowled. ‘Which probably means no now he’s got this woman arriving.’
Ben slipped a hand into his brother’s. ‘We could still go. You can take us.’
‘He was treating us and I’ve spent all my money with it being Christmas. I wish I hadn’t bought him those Marcella Whiffs now,’ said Mick moodily. John smoked only occasionally but when he did it was cigars or cheroots.
‘Perhaps Teddy’ll have some money,’ said Ben.
‘And perhaps he won’t.’
‘So what do we do?’ insisted Ben. ‘I want to see those films. I’ve heard they’re real good.’
‘I’ll have to think,’ said Mick, wishing Teddy hadn’t gone off to the yard but his brother had finished with school now and desperately wanted Laystall’s to take him on without his mother knowing.
The bell in reception sounded and Mick went out. It was the married couple. He put on a smile and handed them their bill. He took their money and helped them outside with their suitcase and parcels before wishing them a pleasant and safe journey home. Then he placed the money in his mother’s cash box and put that in the cupboard of the chiffonier and locked it. He slipped the key in his trouser pocket. When the two sisters arrived downstairs he helped carry their luggage to the station and received a tip.