For Better, For Worse

by June Francis

  Grace had yet to tell Ben that she was three-months’ pregnant. She had been intending to do so, only to be distracted by the arrival of his call-up papers. Now, as she sat quietly on her knees in the early morning light coming through Irene’s window, she slowly shook her head. Her instincts about falling pregnant in December had been right, but she could hardly believe another baby would be here come the beginning of September. Now Ben was due to report at a training camp near Haverfordwest in Pembrokeshire tomorrow. Grace was not looking forward to him leaving, but had decided to look on the bright side, comforting herself with the thought that his life was likely to be in less danger in rural Wales than it would here, especially if there were more enemy raids planned for Liverpool. She would miss him terribly, but she steeled herself, accepting that she was just one of millions of women having to carry on without a man at their side.

  She returned to their bedroom and was about to climb into bed when Ben said, ‘Is Irene all right?’

  ‘She’s fine. I woke and thought I’d just go and check she wasn’t getting ready for mischief.’

  Ben squinted up at her. ‘And you? You look a bit peaky. You’re not worrying about me going away, are you?’

  ‘I’m already missing you! Irene and Simon are going to be beside themselves. I can imagine her saying every day, “Where’s Dadda?”’

  ‘Don’t!’ Ben said roughly. ‘It’s going to be tough enough saying tara.’

  Grace climbed into bed and snuggled up to him. ‘I don’t know how I’ll bear it.’

  ‘You’ll bear it because you’ve no choice.’

  He kissed her, and after that there was no conversation for a while, and then she said, ‘You’ve done it again.’ She wrapped her nightie tightly about her and reached for her wrap. ‘I’m going down to put the kettle on. You stay there and rest for a bit longer. I was wondering if I should ask Simon to come home now that Alice has lodgers.’

  ‘You’d like it better if he were here to look out for you, if there was a raid?’

  ‘Is that selfish of me?’

  ‘No, and what did you mean by, “You’ve done it again?”’

  ‘I’m not making it easy for you,’ she said, removing some clean underwear from a drawer and taking her outer clothes from a chair. ‘Use your brains.’

  She left the bedroom and hurried downstairs, had a wash down in the back kitchen before she dressed and lit the fire and put the kettle on. She took a couple of arrowroot biscuits from a tin and let the tea brew. Then she sat down in front of the fire and ate the biscuits and drank the tea. Only when she felt able and the fire had a glowing heart did she slice some bread and reach for the toasting fork, still undecided about whether she should tell Ben that she was pregnant before he left for Pembrokeshire.

  Twenty minutes later and feeling much better, she placed a plate of jam toast and a mug of tea on a tray and carried it upstairs. ‘You’ve dressed,’ said Ben, sitting up further in the bed.

  ‘You are observant,’ she said in a teasing voice. ‘It’s gone eight o’clock and I thought we could have a walk around the park before calling on Simon and Alice.’

  ‘That’s fine by me,’ he said, getting out of bed and putting on his dressing gown over his nakedness. ‘I’ll have the tea and toast downstairs after I’ve had a wash. You’d better get Irene ready.’

  It was not until Irene was running around nearby and they were standing on the bridge overlooking the lake that Ben said, ‘I didn’t take precautions, did I? That’s what you meant earlier.’

  ‘No,’ she replied, glancing at him.

  ‘And from what you said – it’s not the first time.’

  ‘You’ve only forgotten once before.’

  ‘When?’ He gazed into her eyes.

  ‘Try and remember,’ she said, letting go of the bridge’s railing with one hand and reaching for his hand and clasping it firmly. ‘When we went to bed, you were exhausted.’

  He said slowly, ‘The raids just before Christmas. Was it the morning after?’

  ‘Well done!’

  He frowned at her. ‘Why didn’t you remind me?’

  ‘I was enjoying myself and so were you. We’d both been through a lot and it would have spoilt the moment. Besides, I want another baby.’

  He looked away and stared at the surface of the lake. ‘There’s a war on, Grace, luv.’

  ‘I had noticed,’ she said mildly.

  ‘So… are you pregnant?’ he said huskily, squeezing her hand.

  ‘I think so, although I haven’t seen a doctor yet.’

  ‘If he confirms it, and I’m gone, you’ll let me know right off?’

  ‘Of course! I only kept quiet about my suspicions because I didn’t want you worrying.’

  He took a deep breath, held it for a second, and then let it go in a rush. ‘I wish I could take you with me.’

  ‘You mean I would be a camp follower like in an historical novel where the soldiers’ women stayed nearby? Like I read in An Infamous Army by Georgette Heyer, about the soldiers at Waterloo?’

  ‘What novel was this?’ Ben asked with a wry smile. He shook his head at her. ‘The things you read. I take it the women didn’t have children to look after as well.’

  ‘Not that I remember.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t have much time to read now I’ve a husband and child.’

  ‘You’ll be even busier when this baby is born,’ he said dryly. ‘Which will be September, if I’ve got my sums right and all goes well.’

  She nodded. ‘September seems an awful long way away.’

  ‘Yeah, it would be wonderful if the war was over by then. I can’t see that happening, though—’

  ‘No,’ she agreed sadly. ‘But I’d settle for there being no more bombs over the British Isles and our ships safe from torpedoes as well.’

  He nodded. ‘Anyway, isn’t it time we were heading for Alice’s?’

  ‘Don’t go telling her about the baby,’ said Grace as they turned about and called for Irene, ready to make their way to Newsham Drive.

  When they arrived, Simon told Grace that Marion and a soldier were visiting next door.

  ‘I suppose we should drop in and see them,’ suggested Ben.

  Grace sighed, thinking of her cousin’s attitude towards her, but reluctantly agreed adding, ‘The soldier’s most likely the boyfriend we met at Christmas – yes, you should probably go and introduce yourself if Marion is serious about him.’

  Grace was correct, Roddy was the gentleman caller, and she was interested to see that Ben and him appeared deep in conversation shortly after being introduced. The female cousins didn’t have much to say to each other, but Grace was hopeful, as at least Marion made no mention of Dougie.

  After they returned next door to Alice’s, Ben took Simon off discreetly and spoke to him about returning home to keep Grace company while he was gone. He suggested that the young lad would be able to help her with Irene and everyday tasks, as the new man of the household. Now that Alice had the lodgers to keep her company, Simon was happy with this arrangement, although he suggested that he continued to visit Alice several times a week to check on her and to help in the garden, as well as to give Fergie a good run out in the park.

  That decided, they helped Simon pack a few belongings, and all said their goodbyes before returning home as a family. They left Fergie behind with Barbara, the trainee nurse, who promised to take him for walks in the park when Simon could not. At now sixteen, Simon had grown into a strapping young man, and Grace half wondered if he was sad to be leaving the lodger’s daughter, who had nice features and a curvaceous figure with slender ankles. On their first meeting Barbara had seemed a little shy, but that had now passed when Grace had made the effort to draw the girl out and had encouraged her to talk about her training.

  Later that evening, a strained atmosphere descended on the house as Grace made certain Ben had packed all he needed for his departure tomorrow. In an attempt to lighten the mood, after Simon had unpacked, they listened to a cri
me programme on the radio called Gang Busters before going up to bed. Grace and Ben talked far into the night as they cuddled up together. Ben insisted that Grace promise she would not book into Mill Road Hospital to have the baby. She promised, knowing that he was thinking of the night when he had helped out rescuing survivors when it was bombed last December. She prayed that the raids would be over by the time she went in labour. Her thoughts were interrupted when Ben asked her not to see him off at the railway station tomorrow, but to write regularly. Eventually, they dozed off in each other’s arms, only to wake up an hour later for a final coupling, before Ben rose and went to fetch his daughter who could be heard stirring in the room next door. They all fell to sleep again and Grace rose at seven o’clock to light the fire.

  To her relief she did not feel bilious today. Singing softly, she went downstairs, and put the kettle on. As a treat for Ben, she cooked the entire week’s bacon ration and one of the eggs they had brought with them from Alice’s. She fried a couple of slices of bread in the bacon fat and then placed it all on Ben’s breakfast plate on the table before calling him down.

  Hearing Ben’s heavy tread on the stairs, Grace felt her breath catch, as she thought she would not hear that sound for a while. If ever again, said a voice in the recesses of her mind. She ordered the voice to go away, and thought instead of how since the days they had returned from their honeymoon in Southport Ben’s strong footfall had always filled her with a sense of security. She told herself firmly that being pessimistic never did anyone any good, and that now, more than ever, she must look on the bright side of life. As Gracie Field sang in ‘Sing as we go’ she thought – something about life’s worthwhile with a smile and a song, even if skies are grey. It’s true that singing does make one feel better, she thought.

  As Ben entered, carrying Irene, Grace smiled and said, ‘Aren’t we blessed?’

  ‘That’s the last thing I expected you to say when I’m leaving! God only knows when we’ll see each other again,’ Ben grumbled.

  ‘I know, and as you said yesterday, there’s a war on, but just think since war was declared, through the good times and the bad we’ve been together – and we’ve survived I don’t know how many raids, and so have our children. Now we must be strong in body, mind and spirit and keep hope alive.’

  ‘You little optimist, you,’ he smiled as he passed Irene to her. ‘Is that my breakfast?’

  ‘Who else’s would it be?’ Grace turned away from the table as Simon entered the kitchen. ‘Could you look after Irene’s breakfast while I make your dad some sarnies for the journey?’

  Simon took Irene and swung her in his arms. ‘All set then, Dad?’

  ‘I’m ready as I’ll ever be,’ Ben rapped his son on the knuckles with his fork as Simon put Irene down and made to pinch a rasher of his bacon. ‘Gerroff, that’s mine.’

  ‘Meanie,’ said Simon.

  Father and son exchanged smiles. ‘I bet you’ll be well fed, Dad, in the training camp. You’ll need to be fighting fit.’

  ‘I doubt I’ll be doing any fighting for a while, son.’ Ben nudged the bit of bacon towards the edge of his plate, and Simon snatched it up, and said, ‘Thanks, Dad.’ Then went into the back kitchen and prepared two bowls of cornflakes before returning and placing them on the table. He called Irene to the table and supervised her breakfast.

  Ben smiled across at them and then, with a glance at the clock, finished his own breakfast. He carried his plate into the back kitchen to talk to Grace. ‘I’m going to make a move, luv.’

  Grace nodded. ‘Your sarnies are ready and there’s a slice of sponge cake.’ There was an odd break in her voice as she handed the package to him. He swept her into his arms and kissed her fiercely. ‘Keep singing and stay safe, you, and the kids.’

  She hugged him tightly. ‘No heroics. You’ve risked your life volunteering too many times already.’

  They kissed again and then returned to the kitchen. Ben rammed his sarnies and cake in a pocket, collected his pack from the parlour and headed for the front door, followed by Grace with Irene in her arms, and Simon. He hugged and kissed the three of them, and then with a smile, walked out the door.

  Grace watched from the doorstep with Simon, until Ben, halfway along the street, turned and waved. She helped Irene to wave back and said a silent prayer. Suddenly Simon bolted after his father. They hugged for a final time and she saw Ben whisper into Simon’s ear. Then the tall young man squared his shoulders and walked towards her and Irene, without looking back.

  Chapter 32

  Liverpool: March 1941

  There were times during the following days when Grace found it difficult to smile or sing, but then she received a short letter from Ben saying that he had arrived at his camp safely and was settling in. Apparently, there were a couple of blokes from Liverpool, but he had heard other accents spoken that he was unfamiliar with, although he thought the Sergeant Major was a Brummie. He was missing her and the kids already, and hoped she would write back with all her news. He sent his love with kisses.

  Grace clutched the letter to her chest when she had read it, but could not think what she was going to tell him in reply, because there was no real news, daily life had continued much as before. Thinking that maybe Ben would be content with just hearing from her, she wrote back straight away, telling him that Irene had showed an interest in the picture on the stamp of his recent letter, so she planned to buy her a little book to keep future stamps in from a little stamp-collecting shop in Fenwick Street. Simon was also taken with the idea, and wanted Grace to ask Ben to send any stamps from fellow recruits who might be receiving letters from the colonies and America. Grace also sent news that, unfortunately, the letters that Alice received from Doc didn’t show a foreign stamp, so they had no idea where his ship was, only that he was well. Grace knew from the posters that ‘Careless Talk Costs Lives’, so she didn’t trouble Ben by asking him exactly where his camp was situated. She went on to tell him that the day before she had also received a letter from Milly. Jimmy’s moods were improving and that his mother had recovered well from her injuries, and was planning on staying in the Welsh countryside near her convalescent home until the end of the war.

  Finally, Grace finished up her letter by telling Ben that the doctor had confirmed that she was with child and that the baby was due sometime around the middle of September. She also told him, that, so far, they had received no more night raids from the enemy since he had left. She signed off, ‘Your loving wife, Grace’. She then placed a crayon in her daughter’s chubby fingers and guided her to write a line of kisses for her Dadda.

  Grace posted the letter on 6th March – a day of clear skies and sunshine. A week later Merseyside suffered its worst onslaught of aerial bombing: thousands of incendiaries were dropped and the resulting fires were so numerous that the military, Home Guard, and firemen from Lancashire, Cheshire and Wales were all called in to assist in the rescue efforts. Following the first nerve-wracking night raid, Grace had gone with Irene and Simon to check on Alice. After telling the elderly Scotswoman about the terrible overcrowding in the local shelter, Alice persuaded Grace to stay with her so she could go down to the cellar for the raids, as another visit from the Luftwaffe was imminent.

  With a sinking heart, Grace watched Simon ride away on his bicycle for his messenger shift later that evening. Minutes after he left, the warning siren sounded, and the searchlights lit up the sky, accompanied by the sound of barrage guns booming out. Grace, thanks to Simon’s enthusiastic tutorage, recognised the sound of a German Heinkel bomber, followed quickly by the drone of British Defiant, a two-seater aircraft which carried a pilot and an air gunner. She hurried down to the cellar to sit out the duration of the attack with Alice, feeling sick with worry.

  As soon as the All Clear sounded, and not able to bear the tension any longer, Grace handed Irene to Alice and left the house to go in search of Simon. As she gazed about her, all she could see all around were flames and smoke stretching into the
distance. She decided that she should go and check her and Ben’s home first just in case Simon had gone there. On arrival, she was glad to see that the whole street was undamaged. Grace headed for the nearest First Aid Post, thinking they might know where her stepson was. She was in luck, as a neighbour had seen him and informed her Simon was helping with rescue work as the raging fires had made it even more difficult to dig out people than normal and all hands were needed. He told where to find him at a nearby bomb site, but warned her to tread carefully. Of course, Grace did not need telling, aware of the new life she was carrying, but she had to see that her oldest boy was safe and unharmed.

  Eventually, she found him, although at first, she had difficulty recognising him beneath an oversized metal helmet. His young face was covered in dust and filth. For an instant she was reminded of Ben and wanted to weep, but she pulled herself together sharply and said, ‘Simon, time to come home.’

  The boy just carried on digging carefully with his hands, as if he had not heard her at all, so she touched his shoulder. ‘Son, enough.’

  Simon glanced up at her, and the whites of his eyes stood out in the filth of the surrounding skin. His face broke into a smile. ‘You’re all right. I’ve been so worried for you.’

  ‘Yes, and Irene is wanting you.’

  A man’s voice called over, ‘You go with your mam, lad. You’ve done your bit. Give my regards to your dad when you write.’

  Simon nodded to the man, who Grace recognised as Alf from down the street, and as if in a daze, he went and picked up his bike from the ground, where he had abandoned it. Wheeling it slowly beside him, he then accompanied Grace to the house on Newsham Drive.

  ‘You mustn’t write to your dad and tell him about the raid,’ Grace said on the way. ‘He’ll worry.’

  ‘But if I write, he’ll know we’re alive, so that’ll reassure him, Mam,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I need to pass on Alf’s regards.’