Better Days Will Come

by Pam Weaver

  ‘I’m sure she is,’ said Mrs Kerr, making a big show of putting the case and the raincoat back under the stairs, ‘but I can’t help you. Now if you’ll excuse me …’

  Back out on the street, Rita walked with a heavy heart towards South Farm Road and the crossing. Where could she go from here? She had been so sure she would find George and speak to him in person. If Bonnie wasn’t with George, where on earth could she be? And why was George missing as well?

  It was while she was waiting for the crossing gates to go up that Rita spotted an advertisement on the wall. Hubbard’s … Of course, Hubbard’s. Why didn’t she think of it before? That was where Bonnie worked. She must have confided in one of her work colleagues. Full of resolve, once the gates were wound back in place, Rita quickened her step. She had no money for the bus fare but she was good at running and it wouldn’t take long to get to town.

  Richard’s well-aimed kick at the leg of the settee had, in the split second she had reached for her handbag, landed in Bonnie’s nether regions. His shoes were of the outdoor type and very hard. The pain was indescribable. When Bonnie cried out, pandemonium followed. Richard was sent to his room, the sound of his heavy footsteps and wailing tears fading into the distance finally silenced altogether behind a slammed door. Lady Brayfield and her maid did their best for Bonnie who, speechless with pain, could only roll around the settee and wish she was dead. They eventually calmed her and covered her with a blanket.

  A doctor summoned from Harley Street arrived shortly afterwards and Lady Brayfield left the room while he examined her. His breath smelled of whisky but he poked and prodded as he asked some very embarrassing questions. When he had finished, he concluded that she was ‘fit as a flea’ and only needed a period of recovery.

  After he’d gone, although the pain had lessened, Bonnie lay on the settee listening to the murmur of voices outside in the corridor. Serves you right, she told herself miserably. You never should have come here in the first place.

  She heard the front door slam and a few minutes later, Lady Brayfield returned. Bonnie moved as if to get up but LadyBrayfield held up her hand and sat in the chair opposite. ‘How long have you been pregnant?’ Her voice was gentle but her mouth was set in a tight line.

  Bonnie’s face burned with shame and embarrassment. Here it comes, she thought. The lecture … the moment when she said think of the shame and disgrace you’ve brought on your family, and what about your reputation, etc, etc. Bonnie had never had ‘the lecture’ herself but she remembered the way everybody had treated her neighbour Mary Reed when she got pregnant by a Canadian soldier during the war. ‘Keep the baby?’ Mary’s mother had screamed when Mary told her. ‘Don’t be stupid. Who is going to marry you with another man’s baby?’

  In the end, poor Mary had been forced to give her baby up for adoption.

  Lady Brayfield looked at her steadily. ‘How on earth did you expect to keep it a secret?’

  Bonnie swallowed the lump in her throat. It was no use. Obviously the doctor had told Lady Brayfield of her condition. ‘I thought that if I worked really hard, by the time you found out, you might let me stay a bit longer.’

  A silence trickled between them.

  ‘At least you’re honest,’ Lady Brayfield said finally.

  ‘I’m not very far gone,’ said Bonnie in small voice. ‘And the agency said it was a temporary post. I thought if I earned a little money I could …’ Embarrassment welled up inside her. It was time to go. She pushed the blanket aside.

  ‘You’ve been told to rest, Miss Rogers,’ Lady Brayfield said firmly. The tone of her voice was authoritative but not unkind. ‘Let us discuss the matter.’ She paused. ‘I take it that you have been deserted?’

  Something rose up inside Bonnie to defend George but how could she? She’d been to the station every day for more than a week and she’d made sure plenty of people saw her looking for him, but of course he hadn’t turned up. Time and again she’d asked at the station master’s office but he’d left no message either. She had written to Pavilion Road but that was six days ago and as yet she hadn’t had a reply. She knew she wasn’t the first girl he’d slept with. How could she be? George was older than her and experienced in his lovemaking. She’d been an utter fool. How many other girls had given themselves to men only to find themselves left with the consequences? The story was as old as the hills … But she couldn’t possibly say all that, so she just nodded miserably.

  ‘Could you not go back to your mother?’

  Bonnie’s eyes widened. ‘I can’t. My mother is a widow …’

  Lady Brayfield nodded. ‘How many months are you?’

  Bonnie’s voice was small. ‘Four.’ Was it really only four months since she and George had lain in bed together dreaming big dreams? He was determined to go abroad. They’d even toyed with the idea of going to the Congo.

  ‘The principal food crops are cassava, bananas, and root crops,’ George had told her after he’d read a few books from the library. ‘Hot and humid. The central part has rain all year long.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful,’ she’d cooed.

  ‘No it doesn’t,’ he’d laughed, and then he’d kissed her again. Bonnie could feel her eyes smarting.

  Lady Brayfield pushed herself deeper into her chair. ‘I have a proposal, Miss Rogers. We shall say nothing of this to Dora or to Cook.’

  Bonnie frowned. Dora must be the name of the maid who opened the door and presumably it was Cook she could hear singing in the kitchen.

  ‘Richard is very contrite after his outburst,’ Lady Brayfield went on. ‘He’s not a bad boy. It’s not the first time he has told me he doesn’t want to live with his father, albeit he has never been violent before. My daughter, Richard’s mother, is in a nursing home. She’s had a nervous breakdown and needs complete rest. I only want to do what is right for the child.’

  She rose to her feet and stood facing the window. Whatever she was about to say, Bonnie had already warmed to her.

  ‘My son-in-law is an ambitious man,’ Lady Brayfield continued with her back to Bonnie. ‘He is very strict, which is probably why Richard does not want to go to Africa. Now I’m beginning to wonder if that’s why my daughter …’

  Her voice trailed off but she stayed by the window, her back ramrod straight. A couple of times her hand went to her face but she didn’t turn around. Eventually, and with a beautifully composed expression, she turned back to Bonnie. ‘I was very impressed with the way you conducted yourself when Richard … er … did what he did. You didn’t retaliate or swear at him.’ She paused. ‘That took tremendous self-control, Miss Rogers. You have excellent references and Richard needs a young person, someone with drive and energy. His time is mostly taken up with prep school but at the weekends, and with the Christmas holidays coming up, he needs to be amused. Quite frankly, Miss Rogers, I am too old for party games.’

  Bonnie sat up. She should say something and say it now. How much energy would she have once the baby started to show?

  ‘After this incident, perhaps it wouldn’t be in the boy’s best interest to send him to live with his father,’ Lady Brayfield went on. ‘Not yet, anyway. That being the case, I propose that you come here until after Christmas. I really cannot be without someone right now. Quite frankly, Miss Rogers, I need help. Would you be willing to come for a short period? It would give me time to find another girl for the New Year.’

  Bonnie’s jaw dropped. ‘I won’t let you down, Lady Brayfield,’ she whispered.

  ‘Clearly your referees had no idea you were pregnant,’ she continued, ‘so I am taking a gamble that you are not promiscuous.’

  Bonnie had never heard the word before but the meaning wasn’t lost. ‘I made a stupid mistake,’ she mumbled.

  Lady Brayfield went to her handbag. ‘Then we shall leave it there and not talk about it again. Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Bonnie looking up with a half smile.

  ‘I shall pay you £2 a week, all found. Is that agreeable?’<
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  Bonnie’s eyes widened. This was more than she could ever have hoped for. ‘Yes, yes thank you.’

  Lady Brayfield handed Bonnie a pound note. ‘I have to take Richard to the dentist this afternoon and he is waiting outside to apologise for his disgraceful behaviour. When you are fully recovered, fetch your things and Dora will help you settle in. This should cover your taxi fare. You can start tomorrow.’

  With that, she swept out of the room. Bonnie could have kissed her. What an amazing woman. The place where Richard had kicked her was still painful but it was almost worth it to land on her feet in this way. She looked around the room. What a wonderful place to work. It was so warm in this house. No draughty corridors, no sitting huddled around a meagre coal fire for warmth. Of course she knew her newly found comfort wouldn’t last, but for the moment, she had been handed a lifeline. A couple or three weeks here and she could put a little more money in the post office. Lady Brayfield had given her more than a job. She had given her hope.

  Four

  Every day seemed like a week to Grace. She was on ‘Packing’ in the factory. The sweaters came off the production line and were put into boxes. It was the job of her and her colleagues to steam any creases out and fold the sweaters neatly, three in a box lined with tissue paper. They worked at a table, in pairs, facing each other.

  The new factory was a lot more modern than the old one. In the morning, they played Housewives’ Choice over the radio and at lunchtime they heard Workers’ Playtime in the canteen. The people around her hummed and sang as they worked but Grace wasn’t really listening. Her thoughts were where they had been for the past ten days – with Bonnie. She had waited a whole week and then she had pawned the brooch she had inherited from Michael’s mother. She had always intended to give it to the daughter who got married first. She would have given it to her before they set out for the church on her wedding day but there was no time for sentiment now. She had to find Bonnie.

  She’d gone to the pawnbroker along the High Street. It was a dingy little shop, dark and cluttered, and she’d taken the fifteen shillings he’d offered without quibbling. It was probably worth a lot more than that, but there was no time to argue. All she had wanted was to get on the train first thing on Saturday morning.

  She’d scoured the concourse at Victoria station and stopped tens of people to ask if they had seen Bonnie. She was met with blank stares, nervous frowns, some hostile reactions and a few sympathetic conversations but nobody remembered seeing her daughter.

  ‘There was one young woman,’ the station master had told her, ‘but she was looking for her husband.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ Grace had asked.

  The station master had leaned towards her as he made a circular movement with his finger next to his forehead. ‘I think she was probably some poor sod who couldn’t get over the death of her old man,’ he said confidentially. ‘We get them all the time. Sometimes a relative will come for them but, worst case scenario, they jump under a train.’

  Grace shuddered. ‘When did you last see her?’

  The station master shrugged. ‘Couple of days ago?’ They were both together in his office. As he spoke, a bell began to clang behind him. He stood up and put on his jacket. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me …’

  ‘My daughter is eighteen and she has lovely brown hair,’ Grace said quickly. ‘She wears it tied at the back, like this. She’s very pretty.’

  The station master ushered her out of the door and put on his hat. ‘This one had a beret,’ he said as he hurried away.

  ‘You’ve got four on that pile.’ Grace heard Snowy’s voice but she was still deep in thought. Bonnie was a capable girl but Grace worried that she wasn’t looking after herself properly in London. Was it possible she was with that man? Who was he anyway? She never talked about him, not properly anyway. What if she’d fallen in with a bad lot? What if some awful man went for her – could Bonnie take care of herself ? How was she going to live with no job? Grace realised Bonnie had taken all the money from the green tin; and why not? It was her own money; but she knew Bonnie had been saving it for Christmas. Grace had no real idea how much was in the tin, but it probably wouldn’t last long.

  ‘Grace, I said, you’ve got four sweaters on that pile.’

  Grace looked up as Phyllis Snow, Snowy as they all called her, put a hand over hers. At the same time, Snowy jerked her head towards the door.

  Grace shook her head. ‘Oh sorry.’ She quickly rearranged the sweaters before Norah Fox, their supervisor, spotted her mistake. She was coming their way.

  The sweaters were lovely colours, one powder blue, one pink and the other an oyster white. Lovely and soft too. Pity they were all going to Canada, Grace thought. After all the hardships of war, everybody looked forward to a bit of luxury in the home markets but it was a long time coming.

  ‘Time for your break, girls,’ said Norah.

  Snowy linked one arm with Grace and the other with Kaye Wilcox as they headed for the canteen. ‘We’ve been worried about you, Grace,’ said Snowy. ‘You’ve not been yourself all week. Anything we can do to help?’

  Snowy was a nice woman, about eight or ten years older than Grace, with a matronly figure and steel grey hair arranged in sausage curls around the nape of her neck. Kaye was about thirty with deep-set eyes and raven black hair. She had never married but rumour had it that when she was a young girl she’d had a fling with a married man. Snowy took a packet of Players Navy Cut from the pocket of her wraparound apron and offered one to Grace. Grace shook her head. Kaye put on some more lipstick and rubbed her lips together.

  ‘Oh, sorry, I forgot you don’t smoke,’ Snowy smiled as they waited in the queue. ‘Now. About your problem, do you want to talk about it?’

  Grace could feel her eyes already pricking with tears. She couldn’t bear to make a fool of herself but at the same time shedesperately needed to talk to someone.

  Kaye squeezed her arm encouragingly.

  ‘Come on, love,’ said Snowy taking charge.

  ‘You know we can keep a secret,’ Kaye encouraged.

  They each took their meagre portion of stew and some bread and butter and sat a little way away from the others.

  ‘My Bonnie has left home,’ said Grace. It took a few minutes to explain the situation and why she was so concerned but Snowy and Kaye were patient listeners.

  ‘How awful for you,’ said Kaye. ‘She’s not in trouble, is she?’

  Grace’s eyes widened. ‘Both my daughters are good girls,’ she said haughtily. She refused to even think about such thing. Thevery idea!

  ‘Don’t get on your high horse,’ said Snowy. ‘If she is, she wouldn’t be the first now would she?’

  Grace’s mouth tightened. ‘I’ll thank you not to cast aspersions.’

  ‘I didn’t mean anything by it, Grace,’ Kaye protested. She glanced at Snowy for support.

  Snowy laid a hand over Grace’s. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Take no notice of me. Perhaps I’ve just seen a bit too much of life.’

  But Grace wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness. She picked up her tray and went to join the girls on another table. She felt sick. She had refused to let herself think that. Bonnie in trouble. Dear God, that was it. Why else would she up sticks and leave like that? No, she wouldn’t believe it. Not Bonnie. Grace recalled what she had said to her when she’d reached sixteen. ‘Now don’t you go bringing trouble home.’ She’d meant it as a caution, but had Bonnie taken it as a threat? Dear Lord, what had she done?

  She plonked her tray down next to Poppy Reynolds who interrupted her thoughts. ‘What are you doing this Christmas, Grace?’ Her bright eyes were dancing with excitement. ‘I’m going to the New Year’s Eve Ball at the Assembly Rooms.’

  ‘How nice,’ Grace smiled. She was happy for her. It was about time the girl had something to look forward to. Poppy had had a difficult war, losing both a brother and her father.

  ‘My auntie’s making me a smashing dress
. It’s got yards and yards in the skirt and it’s so tight around the bodice,’ she leaned forward confidentially, ‘that I won’t have to wear a bra.’

  ‘Better watch out for those boys with their wandering hands then, Poppy,’ laughed one of the other girls and Poppy’s face went pink.

  Grace picked at her food. She normally enjoyed listening to their banter, or joining in with the laughter when Gert and Daisy said something funny on Workers’ Playtime, but the ache in her chest got worse and worse with each passing day. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so harsh on the girl. She’d never met her boyfriend, but perhaps he wasn’t such a bad lad. It’s was just that giving a young girl a present so early on in their relationship didn’t seem right. If she’d met him, she might have given Bonnie her blessing to go out with him. She might have tried to talk her out of it, but she would have given her blessing in the end. Bonnie was the sort of girl who seized the moment without a thought of the consequences. Grace realised now that she should have sat her down and talked, but she’d been hasty, angry, annoyed. If only she could turn the clock back. What if she had run away with that boy? What if he had left her high and dry? What if Bonnie had come to her senses and wanted to come back home? What if she didn’t have enough money? And what if there was a baby? She hated to think of the poor girl going through all that on her own. Added to the worry about her daughter, money was really tight. It had been difficult enough before, but without Bonnie’s contribution, Grace would be hard pushed to find the rent each week. Perhaps she shouldn’t have spent all that money going up to London to find Bonnie. It was a fruitless exercise anyway. Maybe she should have kept it for more pressing things. Like many in her street, Grace didn’t have a proper rent book. The rent kept going up all the time and shewondered sometimes if that was down to the landlord or the rent collector. Without a proper record, there was no way of knowing. She’d toyed with asking Mr Finley for a rent book, and she’d asked the collector countless times, but his promises never came to anything.