A Mother's Duty

by June Francis

  Teddy travelled back to the Pool in more style than he had to London, by train. He tried to act in a cowed fashion after receiving a tongue lashing from John, but he was cock-a-hoop because he had achieved what he had set out to and his hopes were high that his mother would no longer insist on him being a cook. He dared not hope just yet that she would let him have his way and work in the yard.

  No sooner did they set foot inside the hotel than Kitty and Annie fell into each other’s arms. ‘Oh Kit, it’s lovely to be home. You can’t imagine how lonely I’ve been.’ Annie’s eyes shone with a luminous brightness.

  ‘It’s lovely to have you back. I’ve really missed you.’ Only now, seeing her cousin’s familiar little face, did Kitty realise how well they had worked together in the past. Hannah might be a good worker but she wasn’t kin and could not talk about the happy times when Kitty’s mother was alive. She really was delighted to have Annie back and she knew whom she had to thank.

  Kitty turned and looked at Teddy who was to all outward appearances repentant. ‘I should give you the back of my hand,’ she said. ‘Why couldn’t you have written to Annie?’

  ‘But it wouldn’t have got me anywhere,’ he said earnestly. ‘At least my way you sat up and took notice.’

  ‘It wasn’t kind, and I’ve a good mind to say that you still have to stick it out here but John says he doesn’t think he can put up with your miserable face round the place day in, day out. So you can go and work in your smelly old engine yard but don’t come moaning to me in a year’s time saying you hate it.’

  Teddy’s ears went red and his eyes shone. He made to throw his arms round Kitty but she drew back. ‘No, I’m still cross with you. So beat it before I change my mind.’

  He repeated for the fourth time, ‘Sorry, Ma.’

  ‘OK. Get out,’ she said severely, but inside she rejoiced that he was home safely. That was all that mattered.

  Teddy rushed out of the kitchen and went in search of Mick to tell him his good news.

  Chapter Eighteen

  With Annie’s return Kitty’s life became easier. Her one worry had been that Hannah might turn awkward but Annie seemed able to cope with the older woman’s grumpiness. She was not so pleased about having to share a bedroom with her, but as the only other option was to go and live at home again where she would be sharing with two of her sisters she decided to stay put. As for Hannah, she grudgingly admitted that Annie was not a bad little worker. Kitty began to allow herself a few dreams once more. With two such good workers and her plan for Mick to work full time at the Arcadia when he left school, together with a couple of extra girls when they were particularly busy, as well as herself and John, and Teddy and Ben doing their little bit, she decided she should be able to cope with running the hotel and looking after the baby.

  She allowed John to cosset her, putting her feet up any odd moment she had and accepting cushions for her back. She used the time to knit tiny pink matinee coats and bootees. John made some comment about the colour but she barely took it in. She was too wrapped up in dreaming of the day she would push a pram down the road with her curly-haired daughter in a frilly bonnet inside it.

  Nancy returned at the end of January, bringing with her the news that Aunt Emily was a shrew but at least she was performing a kind act in providing a home for an orphan girl who had recently lost her grandmother. In return this Jeannie, for that was her name, helped with the housework and cooked the meals.

  ‘How old is she?’ asked Kitty, her fingers stilling on the knitting needles.

  ‘Fifteen – sixteen. Her father was killed in the war. Lovely looking girl and competent with it. She knows exactly how to handle Aunt Emily, which isn’t easy. She’s a demanding woman.’

  ‘She always was from what I remember,’ said John, passing her another scone. ‘We’ve got some news.’

  ‘Oh!’ Nancy gazed expectantly at him and Kitty.

  ‘You tell her, Kit,’ said John, smiling at his wife.

  She twinkled back at him, loving him madly. ‘I’m having a baby. A little McLeod.’

  Nancy’s face lighted up. ‘But that’s wonderful! When?’

  ‘May.’

  ‘But that’s only three months away!’

  Kitty nodded. ‘It’ll be on us before we know it.’

  ‘You’ll have your work cut out,’ said Nancy thoughtfully. ‘You’re not so young. You’ll have to take care of yourself.’

  ‘I’ll make sure she takes it easy,’ said John, his expression revealing a touch of anxiety as he looked at his wife.

  Kitty pulled a face at him. ‘I’ll be OK! I know the drill. And I can’t be sitting every minute twiddling my thumbs. It’d drive me mad.’

  ‘You’ll do as you’re told,’ he said firmly.

  Nancy’s eyes went from Kitty’s face to John’s. ‘Would it help if I stuck around?’ She bent to give Nelson a morsel of scone.

  They both stared down at her flushed profile. ‘But haven’t you got to go back to Canada?’ said Kitty, wondering what Nancy meant by ‘sticking around’.

  Nancy sat back in the chair. ‘I’m not saying I’ll stay forever, but who have I got to go back to, really? Mother died three years back and father’s dead now. I have a few friends and of course there’s George’s brothers and sisters but they won’t really miss me. They have their own families taking up their time. My apartment’s only rented. I have a small regular income and shares in George’s family’s timber business which pay me a yearly dividend. So you don’t have to worry that I’d be a financial burden on you.’

  ‘We weren’t thinking of that,’ said John hastily. ‘We’d love you to stay, wouldn’t we, Kit?’

  ‘Love it,’ said Kit obediently, despite certain reservations.

  A smile broke out over Nancy’s round eager-to-please face. ‘I’d stay on the same terms as any other of your regular guests but help out when you needed me. You’d give me a lot of pleasure in allowing me to do that.’

  ‘You’ve made it so we can’t say no,’ said John lightly. ‘Isn’t that true, Kit?’

  She agreed but wondered exactly how long Nancy would stay. Come National week she would need her room, but she decided she would worry about that when the time came.

  In the meantime, life went on pretty much as it had done, except now Teddy was happy. Mick was working with his school books, determined to do well in his exams despite Kitty telling him there was no need to work so hard. There was one sad day for Ben when he found Twitchy dead in his cage. Kitty and her youngest son had a ceremony and buried the mouse in one of the window boxes, and it was not long before Ben found consolation in his tricycle and the company of Nelson.

  Grand National week arrived with its usual flood of guests and Kitty had difficulty working out where to put them all. There was a French couple whom John was able to converse with, having picked up some of the language during the war. A group of young people, full of the joys of spring and looking for a good time, agreed to share with complete strangers for just a couple of nights because every hotel and guest house in the city was full. It was rumoured that houseowners near the race course were even renting out tents in their gardens, and getting good money for them. Kitty divided a few of her larger rooms with blankets hung over a length of string to provide her youthful guests with some semblance of privacy. Some slept on the floor, but they all seemed happy enough and, although noisy, they were polite when John asked them to keep the sound down.

  To Annie’s and Kitty’s relief, Mr Jones had not booked with them that year but Mrs Mahoney had turned up as usual and this time she had one of her nephews in tow. Her wrinkled face showed satisfaction when she saw Kitty’s increased girth. ‘So you married him, girlie,’ she said, ramming her walking stick on the floor and staring at her from eyes which appeared not as bright as they used to be. ‘I’m glad to see you had some sense and I hope he’ll always be good to you.’

  ‘He is good to me,’ said Kitty and showed the old lady to her room, promising a
cup of tea would be brought up to her.

  By the morning of the big race Kitty was worn out but the last thing she wanted was John insisting that she stayed at home. She kept a smile pinned to her face as she dressed in one of the new maternity smocks that Aunt Jane had made for her and chattered to him about how much she was looking forward to the day out.

  It was a mistake and she realised it pretty swiftly when they had to park the car some distance away and needed to walk the rest. They arrived at the crowded race course with Kitty desperate for the lavatory. Her condition caused some of those waiting in the queue to allow her to go in front of them but no sooner had she found John, the O’Neills and Nancy, and had watched the first race, than she wanted to go again. She saw little of the other races and it was a relief when it was time to leave. She looked forward to relaxing in front of the fire after the evening meal was served.

  But there was to be little relaxing that evening. No sooner had she settled herself with her feet up on the stool which John had put solicitously close, than Annie came flying downstairs.

  ‘Kit! Something terrible’s happened!’

  ‘Not the boys?’ she said immediately, dropping the newspaper and pushing herself out of her chair.

  ‘Sit down,’ ordered John, who was already on his feet. ‘I’ll see to it. What is it?’ he asked Annie.

  ‘It’s Mrs Mahoney,’ she said breathlessly, resting both hands on the back of a chair. ‘Her bell was ringing away so I went up to her room.’ She paused for a swift intake of air. ‘And there she was flat out on the floor. Her face is a funny colour. I think she’s dead!’

  Kitty’s heart sank. ‘We’ll have to get the doctor!’

  Annie said, ‘Mrs Higson’s gone for Dr Galloway. I told her where he lived.’

  ‘Good ol’ Nancy,’ said John, looking relieved. ‘You stay here with Kit, Annie. I’ll go and have a look at the old girl.’ He hurried out.

  ‘Perhaps she’s not dead,’ said Kitty hopefully. ‘Guests don’t like it when people die on the premises. Neither do I! It causes problems. Poor Mrs Mahoney!’ She was struck by a thought. ‘I wonder if we should find a priest? And where’s that nephew of hers?’

  ‘He went out with Jimmy’s great-uncles,’ said Annie, clasping her hands and bobbing about, unable to keep still. ‘Should I go and find him?’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ said Kitty. ‘Where’ll you look? He could be in any ol’ pub. Sit down and keep still. You’re making me nervous.’

  ‘Perhaps I should go upstairs and see what’s happening?’

  ‘You can stay here with me! I hope the rest of the guests stay out till midnight. Or if any do come home early perhaps we can get her out without anyone seeing!’

  ‘We could put her in that big trunk that’s still up there!’ Annie giggled. Then covered her mouth. ‘Sorry,’ she said in a muffled voice. ‘But I’m all of a doo-dah.’

  There was a scrabbling noise at the area door and they both jumped. Annie’s mood was catching and Kitty felt slightly hysterical. Knock, knock, who’s there? she almost said. Then they heard Mick’s voice and Nelson’s sharp little bark.

  The door opened and youth and terrier entered. Mick stared at them. ‘What’s up with you two? You look like you’re ready to burst.’

  Annie snorted and covered her mouth again.

  Kitty took a deep steadying breath. ‘Something terrible’s happened. Mrs Mahoney’s dead upstairs.’

  ‘And we’re wondering how to get the body out without any of the guests seeing it,’ said Annie on a choke.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ said Kitty severely. ‘Poor old lady.’

  ‘At least she had a good day at the races,’ said Mick, opening the back door and setting Nelson free in the yard with the mutton bone left over from that evening’s meal.

  ‘That’s true,’ said Kitty, feeling a little better. She got to her feet having decided she had to know what was going on upstairs. The other two followed her.

  They found Nancy and Dr Galloway in the lobby. John was just coming downstairs. ‘She’s dead all right,’ he said. ‘Where’s Hannah? She can help sort out the mess.’

  ‘Shush!’ hissed Kitty. ‘We don’t want everybody to know.’

  ‘There’s nobody here,’ said John in a low voice.

  ‘How do you know? There could be someone behind the Smoking Room door,’ she whispered. ‘The guests don’t like dead bodies. It would be better for us if she could have died on the way to the hospital.’

  ‘Perhaps I could see the body?’ said Dr Galloway in a restrained voice.

  Kitty drew herself up in as dignified a manner as possible. ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’ll lead the way,’ said John.

  Kitty went to follow them but her husband said, ‘Not you, Kit. We don’t want you getting upset in your condition. Make a pot of tea, love.’

  She stared at his broad back, thinking that this time last year it would have been her duty as hotel owner to go with the doctor. She felt relegated to a lower order. ‘Tea!’ she muttered. ‘Yes, I’ll make tea!’

  ‘A good idea,’ called the doctor. ‘This probably won’t take long.’

  It didn’t and soon Nancy, Kitty, John and Mick were sitting in the kitchen drinking tea. The doctor had gone to ring for an ambulance from his house, saying that he understood their problem and it did not matter to him where the old woman died. He would be back to escort her to the hospital and would state that she had died in the ambulance. He’d square it with the attendants.

  ‘What a nice man,’ said Nancy, her short plump fingers cradling a cup. ‘Really helpful! Such sad eyes, though. Is he married?’

  ‘A widower,’ said Kitty. ‘He lost his daughter not so long ago. He’s the doctor that Celia works for. You remember Celia?’

  ‘The freckled-faced girl who was here at Christmas?’

  ‘She hasn’t got that many freckles,’ muttered Mick, frowning. ‘Cousin Monica has more.’

  ‘The sun’s kisses! That’s what Ma called them,’ said Nancy. ‘I suppose he has a family.’

  ‘He lost a couple of brothers in the war but he does have one in Scotland and a sister, as well,’ said John, winking at Kitty.

  Her earlier irritation vanished and she winked back. They had little time and privacy to themselves so if it was possible to do a little matchmaking, then why not? Nancy would be good for the doctor. She was kind, capable and full of life. It would be great having her living close by, but not right on top of them.

  Dr Galloway returned ten minutes later saying the ambulance would be there in a jiffy. He was thanked and handed a cup of tea.

  ‘We wondered if you’d like to join us for supper tomorrow?’ said John. ‘Most folk’ll have gone by then and we’ll have the place almost to ourselves.’

  The doctor hesitated. ‘I’m not very good company I’m afraid. Since Geraldine went …’ His voice trailed off.

  ‘We understand,’ said Kitty gently. ‘But come all the same. It’s not good for you to be on your own so much.’ She knew he spent most evenings alone because Celia had told her. ‘John can entertain us with his fiddle.’ She reached a hand up to her husband and he took and clasped it in his own.

  ‘You’re very kind,’ said the doctor. ‘But—’

  ‘You must come,’ said Nancy, leaning towards him. ‘We really do understand. We’ve all lost someone we loved.’

  Doctor Galloway’s sad eyes met hers and registered a response. ‘I’ll come then but don’t expect me to be the life and soul of the party.’

  ‘Your presence’ll be enough,’ she said, returning his smile.

  Kitty refrained from giving John a triumphant nudge in the ribs.

  Much to Kitty’s relief the ambulance came before any of the other guests or Mrs Mahoney’s nephew returned. When he did arrive, he seemed unable to accept that his aunt had died of a stroke. ‘But she was indestructible,’ he kept saying. ‘Are you sure now it is herself that’s dead and not someone pretending to be her?’
/>   ‘Absolutely sure,’ said John gravely whilst Kitty struggled to keep her face straight. ‘I’m sorry there was no time to get a priest.’

  ‘Not to worry about that,’ said the nephew, shaking his head and swaying slightly. ‘She’ll bang that cane of hers on the ol’ pearly gates and St Peter’ll have to let her in. I suppose I’ll have to get a priest, though, and she’ll have to go home. The family’ll all be wanting to make sure that she’s gone. It’ll be a grand wake we’ll be having before we plant her under the turf and have the will read for sure.’ He left them and went unsteadily up the stairs.

  John put his arm around his wife and they slowly followed in the nephew’s footsteps. It had been a long day, thought Kitty, glad of her husband’s shoulder to lean on. She thought of Mrs Mahoney, of death, of birth, of life and of how one needed to make the most of every moment because you never knew the minute. She hoped something would come of inviting Dr Galloway to supper, but she was glad it was not tonight. She hoped there would not be another day like today for a long time. At least not until her daughter was born. After that she felt certain she would be able to cope with anything.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘Have you seen this, Kit? The Post Office has been criticised for taking on more women,’ said Annie, reading from a sheet of the Liverpool Echo that the fish had come wrapped in. ‘And on the same page it says that there are eighteen hundred to two thousand deserted wives dependent on the ratepayers!’ She laboriously read out the information. ‘And that doesn’t include those living apart from their husband by mutual consent! It says there’s too much casual wedlock.’ She looked up. ‘It makes you think, doesn’t it, that married women should be allowed to work? Although with the way the job situation is I suppose it can only make it worse.’ She realised that Kitty was taking no notice of what she was saying but appeared to be staring intently at the wall. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I think my waters are leaking,’ said Kitty, her forehead knitting. ‘I haven’t got any pain but – oh!’