Better Days Will Come

by Pam Weaver

  ‘Probably not,’ said Dinah, ‘but I shall be popping back to Worthing quite frequently. I’ve been accepted for a place at RADA.’

  Snowy wrinkled her nose. ‘RADA?’

  ‘The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art,’ said Dinah. ‘I’m going to train to be an actress.’

  ‘Oh, will you be in the pictures?’ gasped Mo Dawson. ‘Maybe you’ll star with Margaret Lockwood. I like her. People say I look a bit like her.’

  Rita rolled her eyes. Mo was behaving like a silly schoolgirl. Emilio saw her expression and winked at her and Rita’s face flamed once more. Everyone was very interested in Dinah’s career choice except Kaye. She seemed a little preoccupied; something was clearly worrying her. Grace promised herself she would talk to her before she left.

  ‘You all right, dear?’ Snowy asked but she was distracted by one of the children before she had an answer.

  Grace felt the lightest touch on her sleeve and turned as Miss Reeves asked to have a word in private. By now the room was heaving with people so the two women stepped outside into the scullery. Miss Reeves drew her cardigan close to her body. It was very cold away from the fire.

  ‘I see you have a card from Bonnie,’ she said. ‘Rita showed it to me.’

  ‘Yes,’ Grace smiled.

  ‘Oh my dear,’ Miss Reeves went on. ‘You’ve had such a hard time of late, is there anything I can do to help?’

  Grace shook her head. ‘You are very kind, but there’s nothing.’

  ‘If it’s a question of a train fare …’

  ‘Miss Reeves, I went up to London soon after she first went, but it was hopeless. Where does one begin to look?’

  ‘What if …’ Miss Reeves began and then faltered.

  ‘Bonnie has gone away,’ said Grace firmly, ‘and we must all get on with our lives and learn to live with it.’

  ‘You don’t mean that?’

  Grace shook her head. ‘Not really but then you wouldn’t expect me to,’ she smiled. ‘I’m her mother.’

  They turned sadly towards the kitchen door and rejoined the party.

  Just as Grace was thinking she had a full house, Manny Hart turned up with a friend. It was the man from the corner shop. Manny introduced him as Archie Warren and everybody shook hands.

  ‘You told me to bring a friend,’ said Manny in his usual perfect accent. ‘Archie is new in town. I hope you do not mind?’

  Although he’d been to the house when he’d bought Michael’s chair, Grace had no idea what Archie’s first name was. Manny produced a huge brown paper bag full of broken biscuits and some apples. Archie had a box of Christmas crackers which made him every kid’s best friend and half a bottle of whisky which made him every man’s pal.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me butting in on your party, Mrs Rogers?’ Archie asked Grace, his earnest hazel eyes making her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t felt for years.

  ‘Of course not,’ she smiled affably. ‘The more the merrier, and please call me Grace.’

  Archie made no comment about the state of her face, but Grace avoided his gaze, suddenly embarrassed. ‘Thanks again for trying to help me the other night,’ she said quietly.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘I only wish I could have stopped them.’

  ‘When will you be wanting the chair?’

  ‘I’ll let you know,’ he smiled. ‘The shop is still a bit crowded at the moment. You don’t mind keeping it here, do you?’

  ‘No, no,’ Grace smiled.

  Before long, the young ones were playing Monopoly on the small table, Dougie was fixing somebody’s broken clockwork toy, the men were playing darts and the women were chatting happily over cups of tea. Emilio sat next to Rita, and Dinah, elegantly sipping a sherry, told them about her future plans to be an actress.

  As the evening wore on, Manny got out his harmonica. He was skilled but the tunes he chose were rather mournful.

  ‘Can’t you play something a bit more lively, love,’ Snowy said eventually and Manny struck up with ‘Lili Marleen’, sweet, insidious but still melancholy. It wasn’t as good as the piano but as their voices blended in harmony, everybody had a good time. Salvatore had a beautiful tenor voice and his rendition of ‘Oh my Papa’ brought a tear to the eye.

  ‘Do you enjoy walking, Grace?’ Picking up a tea towel, Archie joined her at the sink as she did a little washing up. His voice was low so she knew what he was saying was for her ears only.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I do,’ she smiled. ‘My husband and I were members of the National Council of Ramblers before the war.’

  ‘A few of us are walking along the sea front on New Year’s Day,’ he said. ‘Would you like to join us?’

  Grace hesitated. What would people think? Should she be out enjoying herself when her daughter was missing from home? Then a voice in her head which sounded remarkably like Michael’s said, ‘Get out and enjoy the countryside. Nature’s delights are free.’ Nature’s delights … she hadn’t thought of that in years. Carefully she placed a cup upside down on the draining board and looked up at Archie.

  ‘You know what?’ she smiled. ‘I think I would.’

  She looked around for Kaye Wilcox.

  ‘She left some time ago,’ said Snowy when Grace mentioned it. ‘She said she was meeting someone.’

  ‘How odd,’ said Grace.

  ‘What, that she was meeting someone?’ said Snowy.

  ‘No, that she didn’t bother to say goodbye.’

  Towards the end of the evening, Grace looked around her kitchen with a sigh of satisfaction. Christmas at the Rogers’ place was almost as good as it ever had been. Everybody had enjoyed themselves although Grace still had a Bonnie-shaped ache around her heart.

  Twelve

  Bonnie left Lady Brayfield’s lovely home in the middle of January after an emotional goodbye. Her employer had been amazing and Bonnie’s leaving present was more than she could have ever wished for.

  ‘I’ve arranged for you and the baby, when it comes, to go to Holly Acres,’ she told Bonnie. ‘You will work in the nursery although not in the same room as your child.’

  Bonnie’s heart sank until Lady Brayfield explained the thinking behind the plan.

  ‘My friend, Matron Bennett, feels that you might be tempted to favouritism, but more importantly that the other members of staff might not be so inclined to care for your child if you are around,’ she said. ‘They will be told that you can come any time to see your baby when you are off duty and that you will be treated as an equal.’

  ‘Will they know about my situation?’ Bonnie was already beginning to understand just how groundbreaking this was.

  ‘It’s up to you what you tell people,’ said Lady Brayfield, ‘but for the time being, you will be known as a widow.’

  Bonnie nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor.

  ‘I suggest you think very carefully about what you want to say,’ said Lady Brayfield. ‘People can be very cruel and you not only have yourself to consider. There is also the stigma attached to your child as well.’

  Bonnie understood.

  ‘You will be paid, of course,’ her benefactor went on. ‘Your board and lodging will be deducted from your wage and of course something for the care of your child, but you and your baby will be housed and well fed.’

  This was worth more than a king’s ransom to Bonnie.

  ‘It’s the government’s best kept secret that they make a small allowance for single mothers,’ Lady Brayfield went on. ‘The matron of the Mother and Baby Home will give you the paperwork if you ask her.’

  Bonnie felt truly humbled. Someone up there must have been looking after her when she came to this house.

  ‘It only goes for me to thank you and to wish you all the best,’ said Lady Brayfield.

  ‘No,’ insisted Bonnie. ‘I owe you an enormous debt of gratitude …’ but Lady Brayfield was already waving her away.

  Richard was at school but when he had been told Bonnie was leaving for a new positi
on, he’d begged and begged her to stay.

  ‘I’ll be good,’ he’d promised more than once. ‘Please don’t go…’

  It was so difficult trying to be adamant that she had to go when every part of her wanted to stay. Above all, she wanted him to know that her decision had nothing to do with him. On that last evening, she’d sat on the sofa with her arm around him and told him about the dream she and George had had. It was easy to relive those wonderful memories and they hadn’t diminished over time. Everything George had told her came flooding back. Richard listened enraptured as she talked about the ship, and sailing to the Cape, the jobs that were waiting for them and the place where they would live under the shadow of Table Mountain. This was what she would tell everybody. This is what she would tell her baby. The only time she would lie would be when she told people George was dead, and maybe that wasn’t a lie anyway. She hated herself for thinking it, but sometimes she reflected that it would be easier if he were dead. At least he wouldn’t have deserted her.

  As if Lady Brayfield’s generosity wasn’t enough, Cook and Dora had been busy knitting.

  ‘But how …?’ she began when she saw the beautiful layette they had prepared for her.

  ‘We know our mistress,’ said Cook. ‘We knew you were here for a reason.’

  Bonnie had hugged them and promised to write.

  ‘I shouldn’t go to all that trouble,’ said Cook. ‘I can’t read and neither can Dora.’

  On her half day, Wednesday, Rita found her feet being drawn towards the Railway Café. She had no real reason to go there except to see Salvatore’s nephew again. Was he still there?

  As usual, Salvatore was behind the counter. He put down the huge brown teapot and flung his arms in the air. ‘Little Rita,’ he cried. ‘Look, Mama, it is Rita.’

  Rita flinched when he said ‘little’ but she shared his delight. She’d missed Salvatore and Liliana as well but they weren’t thereason why she was here.

  ‘Tell us about your new job,’ said Liliana, coming round the counter and pulling Rita towards a chair. It was quiet in the café. The four o’clock trade hadn’t begun and it was too late for dinner.

  Salvatore put a cup and saucer of hot tea in front of them both and sat down with them at the table. ‘Emilio,’ he shouted, ‘occupati del negozio’ (‘look after the shop’).

  The couple stared intently at Rita, eager to hear what she had to tell them. Behind her, Rita heard someone come to the counter and she knew it was him. Her whole body tingled with excitement. Every bone in her body wanted to turn to look at him but she daren’t.

  They shared a brief conversation about English beer and Christmas time when her mother looked after the guests so well, and of course, Dinah, who had captured everybody’s attention. Rita had no idea she had once stayed in the street. Mum talked about Dinah playing with her and Bonnie but Rita didn’t remember.

  ‘I mostly have to tidy up,’ Rita told Salvatore in answer to his question about what she did in Hubbard’s. ‘Miss Bridewell is very strict, but the girls are really nice. Sometimes, when we’ve finished at the end of the day we keep watch for each other and take turns to try on the dresses. They are so beautiful, like you wouldn’t believe.’ She was talking drivel but it was hard concentrating on something else when he was around.

  ‘And how is your mama?’ Liliana eventually asked.

  Rita shrugged. ‘She seems all right.’

  ‘Have you heard from your sister yet?’

  Rita shook her head. ‘I don’t suppose we will,’ she said and added, ‘someone told me she went to South Africa,’ when she saw Liliana’s puzzled expression.

  ‘South Africa!’ cried Salvatore.

  ‘But you mustn’t tell my mother,’ said Rita, suddenly alarmed that she’d let her mouth run away with her. ‘I think it would upset her too much to know Bonnie was so far away.’

  The Mother and Baby Home was cold comfort after her stay in Aldford Street. Red Chimneys was a rambling and dilapidated Victorian manor house. The war years, and the austerity which followed, had put a stop to all but the most essential repairs and it hadn’t been decorated since the thirties. Winter proved to be very difficult. The coke boiler struggled miserably to heat all theradiators, added to the fact that Matron quite often turned some of them off anyway to save money.

  Bonnie lived at the top of the house with all the other mothers-to-be. Each had her own locker and an iron bedstead with a ticking mattress (some heavily stained) and old army issue blankets over the sheets. They were expected to work and work hard. Bonnie helped in the kitchen, lit the fires or cleaned the house and as the girls got nearer their time, they were given lighter jobs such as the mending.

  They were expected to go to church on Sunday but they had to sit separately from the rest of the congregation. There were other free times when they could go to the shops or the pictures but it was difficult facing the stares of disapproval from complete strangers.

  It was expected that the girls would give their babies up for adoption. Matron continually harangued them about how it would be in baby’s best interest to let him or her have a good home.

  ‘I’m sure you want your baby to have a good life,’ she said to Bonnie during the routine pep talk each girl had in her office on the day of her arrival. ‘What could be better than a loving father and mother who can give your baby the best of everything?’

  ‘I am keeping my baby and I already have a place to go,’ Bonnie said. She went on to explain the arrangement Lady Brayfield had made with the matron of Holly Acres. At first Matron puckered her lips in disbelief and then she demanded the telephone numbers. Bonnie was told to return in half an hour. When she went back, Matron scowled in disapproval. She made it plain that Bonnie was going against the system and she didn’t like it.

  ‘You are not to talk to the other girls about this,’ she commanded. ‘It will only upset them.’

  Bonnie slept next to Ruth and Gwen at her end of the dormitory. Ruth was a pale-faced girl who was deeply troubled. Gwen was open-faced and from the Welsh valleys.

  ‘Mam sent me away as soon as she knew I was pregnant,’ she grinned. ‘I’m supposed to be staying with my Auntie Blodwen in Newport Pagnell to help out in her shop.’

  ‘When’s your baby due?’ Bonnie asked.

  ‘End of March,’ said Gwen. ‘Roll on, I say, and then I can get on with the rest of my life.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ gasped Ruth. She was sitting on the end of her bed cradling and rocking her bump.

  They never talked about the men who had got them into this state. Ruth was broken-hearted at the thought of giving up her baby. Gwen was more philosophical about it. She had already signed the adoption papers but Ruth was holding out.

  ‘Ruthy cries all the time,’ Bonnie remarked to Gwen one day when they were both working in the ironing room.

  ‘Matron has been on at her to sign the adoption papers,’ said Gwen.

  ‘She doesn’t have to, you know,’ said Bonnie. ‘She has a choice.’

  Gwen snorted. ‘Little do you know.’

  Bonnie looked up from ironing a sheet. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They never let up,’ said Gwen. ‘One girl who had her baby soon after I came here refused to sign until the very last minute. She even chucked the fountain pen across the room. We all thought she’d manage to hold them off but then Matron threatened to get her sent to a mental home.’

  Bonnie was aghast. ‘What?’

  ‘She told her chucking the pen was the first sign of an unstable mind and she’d have her committed, then her kid would be brought up in a children’s home.’

  ‘But that’s awful,’ Bonnie gasped. ‘What happened?’

  ‘She signed of course,’ said Gwen. ‘Broke her heart. She was in such a state when they took the baby, it wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t end up in the nut house after all.’

  Bonnie was beginning to appreciate just how lucky she had been to find someone like Lady Brayfield. What if
she hadn’t found that place in Holly Acres? Bonnie shuddered and made an inner vow to keep her baby. In fact she would look after her baby so well she would prove everyone wrong.

  As the time for Ruth’s baby to be born came nearer, the pressure to sign the adoption papers was stepped up. Matron even made her go to bed without any supper a couple of times and Ruthy cried night after night. Eventually Bonnie could bear it no longer. They were alone in the sitting room, huddled close to the meagre fire trying to get warm. Bonnie had two cardigans and a jumper on and although her front was reasonably comfortable, the draught from the gap under the door meant that her back was perishing cold.

  ‘You know, Ruthy,’ she said, ‘you don’t have to give your baby away. Matron doesn’t want you to know this but if you go to the welfare people, you can get help from the government.’

  ‘I’m not good with all that official stuff,’ Ruth said dully after Bonnie explained about the single woman’s allowance.

  ‘I’ll come with you if you like.’

  Ruth’s eyes lit up. ‘Would you? Would you really?’

  They collected the paperwork from the welfare office the next day in their free time. On their way back to Red Chimneys Bonnie called in at the post office. She had arranged to have her post office box number address transferred and, to her delight, the clerk handed her a letter. She recognised the handwriting at once. It was from Miss Reeves.

  As soon as they got back Matron called Ruth into her office and Bonnie went to find a quiet place to read her letter. She chose the library room. There were no books on the shelves – they had long gone – but the girls knew no one came into this room unless they wanted some time alone or a place to cry.

  Bonnie sat on the wide windowsill and looked out onto the barren garden. Winter was losing its grip. Spring was on its way. A few snowdrops nodded in the neglected flowerbeds and a solitary daffodil waved to her from under the window.

  She had just torn open the envelope when the door burst open, making Bonnie start. Instinct made her shove her letter into her pocket as she rose to her feet. Matron’s face was black with fury.