by Anne Bennett
Phyllis was very friendly though. She was a tall woman, Angela noted, and her brown hair, which was liberally streaked with grey, was caught up in a round bun on top of her head, making her look even taller. She was very smartly dressed in a navy skirt that reached almost to the floor, just showing soft leather shoes from underneath, and a pink long-sleeved silk blouse fastened at the neck with a cameo brooch.
‘Come in do,’ she said as she opened the door, ‘you’re very welcome,’ and as she led Angela down the black-and-white-tiled hall she pointed out the parlour and the sitting room before they came to the cloakroom where Phyllis said Angela could leave her coat. As she hung it up Angela thought how wonderful it would be to have a room just to hang coats in. And that wasn’t all, for there was another room Phyllis referred to as a breakfast room plus a kitchen Mary would die for.
On the stove in the kitchen a kettle bubbled away and beside it was a tray laid for tea with two cups and saucers, milk and sugar and a plate of delicious-looking cakes. Phyllis poured the boiling water into the teapot and said to Angela, ‘Can you bring the tray?’
Nervously Angela lifted it and followed Phyllis as she made for the very finely furnished parlour. ‘Put the tray on the small table,’ Phyllis said. ‘And please take a seat.’
Angela did as she was bid and sat a little tentatively on the cream brocade settee as Phyllis poured tea for the two of them. Angela studied the woman she might spend some time living with. She had quite a long face, with high cheekbones and quite a large mouth, but her eyes were kindly and full of concern. And now those eyes were turned on Angela as Phyllis handed her a cup of tea and said, ‘Now tell me about yourself.’
So Angela told Phyllis about growing up in the McClusky household after her entire family were wiped out. She told about the older two boys she considered brothers travelling to America for they could find no work in England.
‘They prospered though,’ she said. ‘And so when Sean and Gerry, the two younger boys were struggling to find work they said to join them in America, but they travelled on the Titanic and so drowned at sea. Barry and I no longer felt for each other as brother and sister but as lovers and we decided to marry young to give Barry’s mother in particular something to look forward to. Good job we did too,’ she went on, ‘because Barry’s father became very ill shortly afterwards. You see, I’m the daughter he never had and he did so want to walk me down the aisle and he got to do it.’
‘What a mercy that you got married when you did then,’ Phyllis said. ‘Is your husband in the army now?’
Angela nodded. ‘And we have a little girl of four who has a nursery place because I do war work, but we also live with my mother-in-law, which isn’t difficult as she is the one who brought me up from when I was a baby.’
‘Have you been able to tell her what happened to you?’
‘Oh yes,’ Angela said. ‘She saw the state of me when I arrived home. I was attacked you see and the men made quite a mess of my face.’
‘I see,’ Phyllis said. ‘So tell me exactly what happened to get you into this situation?’
‘Well,’ Angela said, ‘usually Maggie, your niece, and I come home from work together, but that day I was asked to take an urgent consignment of shells to the docks.’
‘That’s some distance,’ Phyllis said. ‘How did you do that?’
‘I drove the lorry.’
‘You mean you can drive?’
‘Yes and that day it was a big truck too,’ Angela said. ‘I’d never before driven one as big as that, though I have driven it a lot since. We had an old man used to do the big runs like to the docks, brought out of retirement specially, but he’d had a heart attack the night before and though he didn’t die the doctor said he couldn’t do it any more.’
‘You know,’ said Phyllis, ‘sorry for butting in, but I have to say that while this war should never have been fought and it is a tragedy that so many young lives have been lost, yet, in another way it has opened up new lives for many young women, like you driving for example. Won’t be able to deny us the vote when this little lot is over.’
‘I’m not that interested in politics,’ Angela said, ‘though I know all about the Suffragettes. But I do know what you mean about the war, though personally I would rather have Barry by my side and had never learned to drive, but now I can, I must use that skill to help in any way possible, including driving down to the docks. But that day I was late getting back to the factory and Maggie had gone. The Boss offered to call me a taxi, but I thought the people in the street might take the mickey and think I was getting above myself. Anyway my house was not far from the town and I had made the journey every day for months and wasn’t the slightest bit nervous and so stupidly I refused his offer. I was assaulted by three drink-sodden soldiers just yards from my home.’
As Angela began to relate her ordeal, Phyllis felt enormous sympathy for the young woman for she wasn’t just telling the tale, but reliving it again and she heard the shame in her low voice, saw the crimson flush redden her cheeks and watched her face contort as if remembering the pain and her eyes fill with anguish. As the tale drew to a close she was enraged that the brutal thugs who assaulted her so were allowed to walk free to do it to someone else.
The result of this was that Phyllis was very impressed with Angela and was quite prepared to help her. ‘I will leave it up to you to decide when to come,’ she said. ‘Just don’t leave it too late.’
‘No I won’t,’ Angela assured Phyllis. ‘But with my little girl I wasn’t showing until about seven months or so.’
‘It may be the case again,’ Phyllis said. ‘And then it may not be. Every pregnancy is different.’
Angela knew this, but sincerely hoped it was later rather than sooner for when she went to live with Phyllis she would have to leave Connie with Mary for secrecy was everything and four-year-olds weren’t that good at keeping secrets. Anyway, she was settled in the nursery and might lose her place if she left and Angela fully intended to return to work when this was all over. It broke her heart to have to leave Connie for so long, though she knew it was the only thing to do.
She blessed the shapeless all-enveloping boiler suit they had to wear that would conceal a number of sins, including an expanding waistline. It also helped that she wasn’t with the girls much as she had taken on Bert’s driving duties as well so was on her own in one of the trucks most of the time.
Mass at St Catherine’s was the point where her pregnancy was in danger of being spotted. Angela would rather have popped along to St Chad’s where no one knew her, but that would have been remarked upon and even worse, if Father Brannigan didn’t see her at Mass he might come to the house to find out why not and that would never do. So as summer ended and an autumn nip was in the air she took herself off to the Rag Market one Saturday afternoon and came home with a baggy winter coat and a tight corset and every Sunday morning she would lace herself into the corset in an effort to pull in her stomach.
She felt so differently about this pregnancy. She had so looked forward to Connie’s birth. She’d longed to see what she looked like and hold her in her arms, but this pregnancy she viewed dispassionately, as an unwelcome intrusion into her life. Even when she felt the baby quicken she couldn’t think of it as a human child, but as a bit of rubbish she had to get rid of.
The baby was due mid December and so in mid September Angela wrote to Phyllis and suggested moving in with her on Monday 8th October. Phyllis wrote back by return and said she was looking forward to seeing her again and asked if she could come after dark so the neighbours wouldn’t see her arriving.
Angela was just glad she had another evening with Connie and that night she gave her a piggy-back up the stairs and Connie was giggling as she slid off her mother’s back on to the bed. She supervised Connie’s prayers when she blessed everyone and for a moment Angela considered telling Connie she was going away for a few days. But she knew she would probably be upset and would certainly ask twenty questions and mig
ht be difficult to settle and Phyllis was expecting Angela that night and she didn’t want to arrive too late. So as she tucked her into bed she gave her a kiss and looked at that dear little face she wouldn’t see for some time and she gave a sigh as she said, ‘I love you my darling girl.’
Connie sat up in bed and wound her arms around her mother’s neck and said, ‘Don’t be sad, Mammy. I love you too. Lots and lots I do.’ She kissed Angela’s cheek and then snuggled down in bed looking absolutely angelic.
Angela almost stumbled from the room blinded by tears. Mary knew she would be upset when the time came to leave and she said, ‘Don’t fret about the child for don’t I love the very bones of her? And I will look after her as well as I can.’
‘Oh Mary, I know that,’ Angela said. ‘It’s not that that I’m worried about.’
Mary had hold of Angela’s hands and was looking directly into her eyes as she said, ‘Darling girl, you are doing the only thing you could do that’s better for everyone. As for Connie she will undoubtedly miss you, but I am at least familiar and her routine will not be disrupted and the time will soon pass.’
Angela knew that for Connie a week was a long time, but there was nothing else she could have done and she knew it wouldn’t help to delay any more. She remembered to take her wedding ring for she would need to wear it at Phyllis’s and now she was no longer at work she put the locket around her neck and then she kissed Mary, and stepped out into the night.
Phyllis was really pleased to see Angela and so positive it soothed Angela’s soul a great deal and dispelled any lingering doubts she had by her very attitude. She said she had a plan, but didn’t elaborate further on what that was until they were sitting down with a cup of tea.
‘Now I will have to say something to explain your presence here,’ Phyllis said to Angela. ‘So from now your name will be Amy Bradley, for Angela is too unusual a name for this area, and you are my niece and also a pregnant war widow. You have come to stay till the baby is born because my house is more suitable than the cramped back-to-back you live in and share with your husband’s family, but you intend returning home for Christmas.’
‘Goodness you have thought of everything.’
‘Yes I have even bought you this to wear to Mass,’ Phyllis said and produced a black widow’s bonnet from the shopping bag.
The blood drained from Angela’s face and she said, ‘I … I can’t wear that. Thank you but no. It’s like … like.’
‘It’s like nothing,’ Phyllis said sharply. ‘You are not bringing bad luck on your husband by wearing a bonnet to make our story more authentic and believable. You explained to me that you were doing this for him too, to prevent any malicious gossip by someone not in possession of all the facts contacting your husband and saying you’d been carrying on with someone and were having your fancy man’s baby. That could happen. It’s been done many times before. Some people’s life’s work is to make trouble for others. How much would such news upset him as he goes to face the German machine guns and shells and sniper fire?’
Angela gave a gasp. ‘I couldn’t endure that,’ she cried. ‘Oh, it would hurt him tremendously, desperately,’ Angela said and she took the bonnet from Phyllis and said, ‘Thank you once again and I will wear it. I was being silly.’
Angela had never lived in such luxury. She had a large, comfortable bed all to herself with a matching wardrobe and a chest of drawers and a bathroom just down the corridor and she told herself not to get too used to it because she’d be back in Bell Barn Road before that long.
Phyllis was right too about the widow’s bonnet. It evoked compassion from everyone when she wore it to church that first Sunday morning. They gathered around the church door after the Mass. There again Phyllis had her tale ready. ‘Only married five minutes,’ she said. ‘Married quick because of the call-up and he never even knew he was going to be a father when he was killed.’
Many had similar heart-wrenching stories and the women spoke comforting words of empathy and understanding, but though Angela wasn’t the only one wearing such a bonnet, she was so young and she played her part so well as the sorrowful widow that none disbelieved her. It was also quite conceivable too that she came to give birth in her aunt’s comfortable home. They all knew how cramped the back-to-back houses were at the best of times and hospitals were bursting at the seams with the war wounded.
Angela was always glad to see Maggie who came every Sunday afternoon. She brought all the gossip from the factory and the streets around, news of Mary and Connie, and brought any letters that had arrived and she would wait while Angela wrote replies and in this way convinced Barry that life was going on as it always had done and nothing untoward had happened.
Despite Maggie’s visits the days passed slowly but it was December at last with squally wind and snow and bone-chilling cold and the baby’s due date, the fifteenth, slipped past with no sign. Phyllis had asked a friend of hers, Sally Metcalfe, who was a retired nurse, and also discreet and non-judgemental, to help at the birth. She had put her in the picture about what had happened to Angela and Sally agreed that in the circumstances adoption was the only answer. She was not a jot concerned that the birth was delayed. ‘Babies come when they are ready and that’s all there is to it,’ she said complacently.
That was all very well, but Angela had wanted to be home for Christmas. It would be hard for her not to be at home to share Christmas Day with her child, and she imagined harder still for her child to understand, and also she thought Mary had held the fort on her own for long enough.
She was in an agony of impatience and then eventually in the early morning of the twenty-first, Angela awoke to water gushing out from her and realized her waters had broken. She felt a leap of excitement knowing that soon the foreign unwelcome baby would be expelled from her and she would be free again and could go home.
At first Angela welcomed every contraction knowing each one was bringing the birth closer and she thought it far too early to wake Phyllis, but was very glad to see her when she did pop her head around the door at half past seven to see how she was. By then Angela was in extreme discomfort and Phyllis went straight down for Sally and her calm presence in the room immediately reassured Angela, though the pains were getting stronger.
Angela found labour progressed much quicker than when she was giving birth to Connie and she soon had the urge to push and Sally had only been there a couple of hours when Angela gave birth to a baby girl, and she gazed at Sally who had caught the child up in her arms as newborn wails filled the air, and felt nothing. When she said this however neither Phyllis nor Sally were shocked. ‘I think that’s quite understandable after the way you were raped,’ Sally said. ‘And it’s far better that you feel nothing for the wee mite if she’s going for adoption.’
Angela sighed. ‘I suppose and in the circumstances it’s all I can do, but I feel sorry for her, being denied her mother’s love.’
‘You can’t pretend what isn’t there,’ Phyllis said. ‘And why should you feel love for a child conceived in such a savage way? Every time you looked at her, you would be reminded of that ordeal.’
‘I know,’ Angela said. ‘And even if I could learn to love her, I couldn’t expect my husband to feel the same. And the neighbours would draw their own conclusions. I didn’t report the rape, you see, because I didn’t want Barry to know of it, so they would have no idea I was attacked.’
‘Don’t feel bad about this,’ Sally said for she had seen the tears in Angela’s eyes and heard the catch in her voice. ‘Your baby will be taken by some couple who cannot have children of their own and I’m sure they will love her dearly.’
Angela remembered Stan staying something similar about Betty. At the time she had said she would never give a child of hers away and could never envisage anything that would change that. But here she was, going through with it. And although Stan had relinquished all rights to Daniel, he knew who his son was going to and knew they would love and care for him, whereas she was ab
andoning her baby to the unknown.
‘Why don’t you lie down and have a wee rest while the child sleeps,’ Sally suggested and though Angela obediently lay down she knew she wouldn’t sleep.
But she was more tired than she realized because though she did toss and turn for quite a while eventually her eyes closed. She slept for three whole hours and when she awoke she was hungry but less emotional about the decision made about the baby’s future. Both Phyllis and Sally kept the child away from her as much as possible. ‘You mustn’t feed her,’ Sally said. ‘We have that all in hand and will feed her from the bottle for the short time we have her, for Phyllis will take her in tomorrow.’
‘I would like to send a letter with the baby,’ Angela said.
‘I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what happened to you.’
‘No I wouldn’t do that,’ Angela said. ‘I just wanted to tell the child that I love her and though I actually feel nothing for her, that isn’t her fault and it might help her a little if I write that I love her, but am unable to care for her properly.’
‘I think that’s a nice thing to do and it may well be a comfort to her when she’s older,’ Sally said. ‘I’d get that written in plenty of time for Phyllis will take the child early tomorrow morning and have her installed by Christmas.’
‘And I can go home.’ Angela didn’t say it, but that suited her down to the ground.
The next morning, Phyllis set off with the baby wrapped up warm against the winter chill in the basket bought for the purpose. ‘You will be all right won’t you?’ she asked Angela because Sally had returned home.
‘I will be perfectly fine,’ Angela said. ‘But you had better be on your way. Yesterday Sally said something about the children taken to early Mass.’
‘Yes,’ Phyllis said, ‘it would be better to get there before that happens.’