‘I’m going to have the most hideous stretchmarks when this baby finally comes out.’
‘You are young and healthy and I’m sure everything will return to normal in a few weeks.’
The wash was exactly what Ellie needed to get her ready to go downstairs and pretend to Dad and Mabel that everything was fine.
‘I’m going to suggest we start to put the decorations up – I know it’s still not December but – well you know why.’
‘It will be December at the end of next week so I can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t go up early. Say that you want them up for when the baby arrives.’
Ellie was now wearing in her opinion what looked like a floral tent which Joan had made from a pair of old curtains found in the attic. The idea of putting on socks or stockings was laughable so she would have to go down with bare legs and slippers.
Jack arrived as she left the bedroom. ‘Lean on me, darling, you look as if you need propping up.’
‘Don’t be rude, Squadron Leader Reynolds. Leave that sort of thing to our nephew who always says something inappropriate.’
‘Then it’s a good thing Neil isn't here yet.’
He agreed about the Christmas tree and other things and said it would give them all something to do. ‘Fred’s no worse, in fact I still can’t quite believe how ill he is.’
‘I just wish this baby of ours would arrive. I’ve had quite enough of this pregnancy and I was enjoying it initially.’
The sofa was now to be hers so she could put her feet up. Dad laughed when he saw her.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it, Ellie love, it looks as if you’ve got a giant balloon stuffed up your frock.’
She collapsed onto the sofa and pretended to scowl at him. ‘Thanks a lot, I don’t need reminding. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to be downstairs again. I might not be able to put up decorations but I’m certainly going to direct everyone else.’
‘That’s my girl. I’m going to have my meals on a tray in here with you so you won’t have to eat on your own.’
‘Thank you, that will be nice. I’m hoping that I have this baby in the next few days and then we can persuade George and family to come here early. Once the tree is up it will seem like Christmas anyway.’
‘My Mabel says there's nothing festive to be had in the shops, not even in Romford market, everyone’s miserable and the rotten weather doesn't help either. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to having all my family here – including the one still inside you.’
Joan came in with a tray of freshly baked scones, jam and, of course, homemade butter. Mabel followed with the tea and necessary cutlery and crockery.
‘That’s the ticket – just what the doctor ordered,’ Dad said.
Ellie found it difficult to eat anything as there just didn’t seem to be enough room inside her. As everyone was making such an effort, she managed to eat half a scone and swallow some of her tea. If anyone noticed, nobody remarked on it.
‘Joan and I have everything from the attic. Jack’s planting up the tree but I don’t think we should bring it in until it’s actually December,’ Mabel said.
‘All the needles will drop if it comes in too early, so maybe better to leave that and do it nearer to Christmas. There’s no excuse for not putting up everything else.’ Ellie looked at each of them in turn and they nodded.
‘When we’ve finished our elevenses, we’ll make a start. With the three of us it shouldn’t take long,’ Mabel said.
‘Your Jack will have to pin up anything high,’ Joan said. ‘I’m not too keen on standing on chairs nowadays.’
He walked in and overheard. ‘I’ll do whatever you ladies want but I’m having something to eat and drink first.’
As soon as the trays were cleared the decorating began. The streamers, paper chains and tissue paper bells went up and everyone agreed they cheered the place up immensely.
Time trickled past and she was enjoying being part of the family again and not still isolated upstairs. There was still no sign of the baby apart from he had settled so far down her pelvis she felt as if she was sitting on his head.
‘It’s three weeks to Christmas. I really thought I would have had him by now,’ she moaned to Jack as she tried to settle unsuccessfully.
‘The midwife said it could be any day…’
‘She’s been saying that for the past three weeks and still nothing’s happened. I think that even Mabel knows something’s wrong with Dad. He’s not eating very much and spends most of the day nodding off.’
‘There’s a blue tinge around his lips sometimes, have you noticed that?’
‘I have. I’ve got to get out again. I need to pee.’
She rolled on her side and stood up and a cascade of water drenched her feet. Jack laughed. ‘I hope that means what I think it does and that you haven’t just wet yourself.’
‘My waters have broken. Can you ring the midwife and let Mum know?’
‘What do I need to do for you first? Do you actually need to pee?’
She was about to answer when the first of her contractions gripped her stomach. ‘I need to sit down. My pains have started.’
Everything moved so fast after that. She’d expected to have more notice, for the contractions to start gradually and be at least twenty minutes apart. Hers were every five minutes from the start.
The midwife arrived half an hour after Jack phoned her. By then Mum had stripped the bed and got it ready and she was in a clean nightdress.
‘Good heavens, Mrs Reynolds, this baby is in a hurry. You’re fully dilated and will need to push soon.’
Ellie couldn’t think of anything but trying not to yell as the pain swelled and rolled over her. She bore down when told and less than two hours after her waters had broken her son arrived. He entered the world screaming and she was sure everyone in the house was aware her baby had been born.
‘Here you are, a lovely little boy, looks just like his dad. Got his red hair.’
She held out her arms. ‘Welcome, little Freddie, I’m so pleased to see you.’ He was covered in muck, red-faced and screeching but she’d never seen anything so beautiful.
Before the midwife could prevent him Jack barged in. ‘Meet your son, darling, he was certainly determined to arrive today.’
‘Mr Reynolds, you shouldn’t be in here until I’ve got everything tidied up. Say hello to your baby and then please leave.’
‘Thank you, Ellie, I can’t think of a better Christmas present for both of us.’ He kissed her and the baby and then retreated with an apologetic smile to the irate midwife.
*
An hour later both Ellie and her son were clean and presentable and ready for visitors. Despite his precipitous arrival she’d required no stitches, and apart from the fact that she still looked like a beached whale she was absolutely fine.
‘How long will it take for my tummy to go down?’
‘Some of my ladies get their figures back in a week or two others take longer. I’m afraid you’ll have to wear your maternity smocks for a bit.’
‘I know I’m supposed to stay in bed for a week, but I’m not staying up here more than a couple of days. I know you understand why I’ve got to do this.’
‘As long as you rest it doesn’t really matter where you are. I find that my ladies who rush about too soon often don’t get their milk in properly. I know there’s national dried milk, but babies do best at the breast.’
The midwife left and said she would be back in the morning to check on both of them. It was already after midnight but Freddie had been born on the third of December – three weeks earlier than originally expected.
By the time Joan, Mabel and Mum had been in to admire the new arrival, who was now sleeping peacefully in his crib, she was exhausted.
‘Is my dad awake?’
‘He is, or he was a while ago. Do you want me to take Freddie down to show him?’
‘Yes, please, I’d do it myself but I’m just to
o tired.’
*
Jack wasn’t sure he could carry a newborn but was determined to do what Ellie asked him. The baby was swaddled in a shawl so he wrapped this around his hand and picked him up using his other arm to balance the baby.
Then he carefully pushed the sleeping infant into the crook of his right arm, still not sure if he was safe.
‘You won’t drop him, darling, don’t look so anxious.’
‘I won’t be long. You need to get your sleep as it’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.’
He wasn’t sure why he’d said that as the drama as far as the baby was concerned was over. Something made him hurry to Fred and Mabel’s bedroom. Mabel was sitting by him.
‘I was going to ask you to bring him down. My Fred’s just hanging on to see him.’ She sounded calm and he realised she’d known all along.
‘Fred, I’ve brought your namesake down. He weighs eight pounds which is not bad for a baby supposedly three weeks early.’
‘Let me see him, son.’ His voice was weak, his colour dreadful, but his eyes were bright and he was smiling.
Jack sat on the edge of the bed and put the baby in his arms. ‘Meet your grandpa, Freddie, he’s been waiting to see you.’
‘Look at that, Mabel love, he’s going to have Jack’s red hair. Tell my Ellie that I love her, say goodbye for me.’
Jack’s throat closed. He couldn’t speak. This shouldn’t be happening – not today – not so soon.
‘Don’t cry, son, it’s my time and I’m ready to go. I just wanted to meet him and now I’m ready.’
Fred smiled, closed his eyes, and he was gone.
How could Ellie have known that the baby had to go down immediately? Slowly he reached forward and removed the sleeping infant from Fred’s arms.
He didn’t try to stem the tears; he loved this man and now he had to tell his beloved wife that her father had died and she hadn’t been at his side.
‘Mabel, I’ll take the baby to Ellie, tell her, and come back.’
‘It’s all right, Jack love, I’ve been expecting this for weeks. We’ve all been pretending we didn’t know for Fred’s sake. He was a good man and deserved to die the way he wanted. I’ve had time to prepare myself. You run along and give our Ellie the bad news.’
Joan and Charlotte were outside the door. They took one look at his face and knew what had happened.
‘I’ll call the doctor. You stay with Ellie,’ Joan said.
There was a noise upstairs and his darling wife was coming down before he could stop her. ‘I want to say goodbye, Jack. I know I’m not supposed to be out of bed, but I want to see him before they take him away.’
He stepped to one side and she walked in.
‘Here, let me take the baby. My daughter needs you beside her. I’ll put him down and then ring George.’
He found a handkerchief in his pocket and wiped his eyes. Mabel was sitting one side of the body, Ellie the other. Neither of them was crying. Fred looked as though he was asleep, his mouth was curved in a smile. He’d died peacefully and happy. What more could a man ask?
*
The funeral took place a few days later and the church was packed. There was to be no wake, this was at Mabel’s request. A friend of Mabel’s was at the farm taking care of Freddie and the two children.
‘He’s next to Neil, they’ll keep each other company,’ Mabel said as they walked back to the house after the burial.
That afternoon the family were gathered in the sitting room. Ellie had their son in her arms and Neil and Penny were playing quietly under the tree. She looked up at him and smiled.
‘Dad got his wish and held Freddie before he died. I don’t know if anyone else has thought about this but it’s as if it was meant to be. As one Frederick left this world his namesake arrived to replace him.’
Jack stood up and raised his mug of tea. ‘Let’s say farewell to those that we loved who have gone, Neil, Greg and Fred and welcome those that have arrived, Neil, Penny and Freddie.’
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank my editor, Hannah Smith, for without her expert input my books wouldn’t be as good as they are now.
Bibliography
Spitfire Women by Giles Whitehall
Spitfire by Jonathan Glancey
Debs at War by Ann de Courcy
Spreading My Wings by Diana Barnard Walker
Fly & Deliver by Hugh Bergel
Contact! Britain! by Nancy Miller Livingston Stratford
Bomber Girls by MJ Foreman
The Female Few by Jackie Hyams
Spitfire Girl by Jackie Moggridge
Lettice Curtis: Her Autobiography by Lettice Curtis
Spitfire Pilot by Flight Lieutenant David Cook DFC
Wartime Britain by Juliet Gardiner
RAF Airfields by Jonathan Falconer
Dictionary of RAF Slang by Eric Partridge
The Wartime Scrapbook by Robert Opie
Oxford Dictionary of Slang from Oxford University Press
Britain at War Unseen Archives by Maureen Hill
Bomber Boys by Patrick Bishop
The Home Front by Marion Yass
Looking into Hell by Neil Rolfe
Christmas on the Home Front by Mike Brown
I am immensely grateful for the work of these brilliant authors. I had all the information I needed from them in order to write this book. The more I learned about the ATA girls, who ferried aircraft for the RAF, the more fascinated I became.
This is the final book in The Spitfire Girl series and I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I did writing them. I am sad to say goodbye to Ellie and Jack but am excited to be writing my next WW2 series, Girls in Blue. The first book in this new series will be published in October 2020.
Fenella J Miller
About the Author
FENELLA J MILLER was born in the Isle of Man. Her father was a Yorkshire man and her mother, the daughter of a Rajah. She has worked as a nanny, cleaner, field worker, hotelier, chef, secondary and primary school teacher and is now a full time writer.
She has over thirty-eight Regency romantic adventures published plus four Jane Austen variations, three Victorian sagas and seven WW2 family sagas. She lives in a pretty, riverside village in Essex with her husband and British Shorthair cat. She has two adult children and three grandchildren.
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