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The Clippie Girls

Page 28

by Margaret Dickinson


  As she closed the door after him, she turned to see Peggy sneaking back up the stairs.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t, my girl. I want to talk to you. Get yourself back in there.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No “buts”. This has got to stop. Mam and Myrtle should be home in a minute and we’re going to get this sorted out. Sit down at that table while I get their meal ready. Then we can talk.’

  ‘What’s there to talk about? I’m not going back to work, if that’s what you think.’

  ‘Mebbe not, but that’s only the half of it.’

  A few minutes later, on their return, Mary walked into a wall of uncomfortable silence in the living room and Myrtle, hearing Freddie wailing in the bedroom, dashed upstairs.

  ‘Myrtle’s just gone to see to Freddie, she’ll be down in a minute.’

  ‘I’ll keep hers hot then,’ Rose said, as she placed her mother’s meal in front of her. Then she stood with her back to the fire and faced the room.

  Mary picked up her knife and fork but made no effort to eat. ‘What’s the matter, Rose? Has something happened?’

  ‘Not really, but it’s going to. We’ll wait for Myrtle. Eat your tea, Mam, while we’re waiting, else it’ll get cold.’

  Peggy was still sitting at the table, fingering the tablecloth and avoiding meeting anyone’s gaze. Grace folded her newspaper, took off her spectacles and rubbed her eyes. ‘I hope this isn’t going to take long. There’s something I want to listen to on the wireless.’

  ‘Hopefully not, Gran.’ Rose said.

  Myrtle wandered in as Mary finished eating. ‘I’ve got him off. He should sleep till ten or eleven now until his next feed.’ She glanced round, sensing there was something about to happen. She took her place at the far side of the table, as Rose placed her meal in front of her. Mary moved to sit in the armchair beside the fire. ‘Right, Rose, what’s so important?’

  ‘Peggy – and her child. It’s high time she stopped moping about and started looking after her baby – ’ Rose ticked the points off on her fingers – ‘helping around the house, going out and even going back to work part-time like Mr Bower’s suggested.’

  ‘Laurence?’

  ‘He came round tonight to bring some baby clothes for Peggy and he said he’d be pleased to have her back even if she could only manage part-time.’

  ‘Mam, I—’ Peggy began, but Grace interrupted. ‘Quite right, too, Rose. I couldn’t have put it better myself.’

  Mary was watching Peggy anxiously.

  ‘I met Mrs Bradshaw out wheeling Freddie in the pram when I came home from school,’ Myrtle put in. ‘She said Peggy should go out to get some fresh air and exercise. And if that doesn’t work, she should see a doctor.’

  ‘So, Peg, what’s it to be?’ Rose said firmly. ‘And whilst we’re deciding what’s to be done, have you made up your mind whether or not you’re accepting Bob’s proposal?’

  ‘I’ve written to him.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Thanked him – but declined.’

  Inwardly Rose heaved a sigh of relief. It didn’t really make it any better for her if Bob was still in love with Peggy, but at least she wouldn’t have the heartache of him becoming her brother-in-law. The two sisters stared at each other until Peggy dropped her gaze.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Grace said. ‘Now Rose is right. You should start and get back to normal, Peggy. We’ve all cosseted you for far too long. And I don’t want to hear any talk of having him adopted. He’s ours and here he stays, but you ought to start acting like a proper mother. Tomorrow morning is Saturday and Myrtle always takes him out in the pram on a Saturday morning. And you, my girl, are going with her.’

  Peggy sighed and got to her feet. Without another word she went up to her bedroom, but unbeknown to any of the others, she sat down beside the cradle and gazed at her sleeping son for a long time. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered at last. ‘It’s not your fault. None of it.’ Then she picked up a letter she’d received that morning and went back downstairs. She poked her head round the living-room door.

  ‘Rose, can you spare a moment?’

  The two girls went into the front room and Peggy closed the door behind them. ‘Here, you’d better read this.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘A letter from Bob, in reply to my refusal.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t—’

  ‘I want you to read it.’

  Rose sighed and sat down.

  Dear Peggy, Thank you for your letter and your honesty and I’ll be as honest back. I have to admit to being relieved that you’ve said no. I felt I had to make the offer. Once I loved you very much and I was very hurt when you took up with that soldier, specially as you hardly knew him. Still, that’s not my business and all I want is that you should be happy. I still care about you, but I don’t think I’m in love with you any more. So, all I can say is that I wish you the very best and hope things work out for you. I’ll always be there for you as a friend if you should need my help. I don’t expect you will as you’ve all your family rallying round. Specially Rose, she’s a good ’un. Please tell her I’ll see her when I get home.

  He’d signed it, Yours, Bob.

  Rose’s mouth gaped open as she finished reading and looked up at Peggy. ‘He – he says he’s not in love with you any more. His mother said as much, but I didn’t really believe her.’

  Peggy was smiling. ‘No, he’s not. I doubt he ever was really. So, sister dear, he’s all yours.’

  ‘Oh well, now, I don’t know. He doesn’t say—’

  ‘He says he wants to see you when he gets home. That’s a start, isn’t it?’

  Rose hardly dared to hope. ‘We’ll see,’ was all she said as she handed the letter back to Peggy and got up to leave. Peggy touched her arm. ‘Thanks, Rose, for what you said in there. I will try to do better. I’ll just have to make up my mind that Terry’s not coming back and get on with my life – whatever that might be.’

  ‘Oh, Peg!’ Rose flung her arms around her sister. ‘That’s wonderful. We’ll help. We’ll all help you.’

  ‘I know you will,’ Peggy murmured, as she hugged Rose in return. ‘You already have.’

  Forty-One

  Myrtle had taken her Higher Certificate in June. Concentration had been difficult with a crying baby in the house and her desire to hold him at every opportunity. But the groundwork of revision for the exams had already been done before Freddie’s arrival and when the results came out, she had passed all her subjects with the highest grade. Her place at Sheffield University, for which she’d applied the previous year, was confirmed.

  Towards the end of August Peggy decided to return to work.

  ‘You’re going back far too early.’ Mary pleaded with her to stay at home and care for her baby until he was a little older.

  ‘I’ll go mad if I stay in this house much longer. Besides, I’m not needed now he’s finished breastfeeding.’

  ‘Of course you’re needed, Peggy. You’re his mother.’

  Peggy turned away. ‘I’m seeing Mr Bower this afternoon. I’ll ask him if he can just put me on part-time. I can fill in when someone’s ill or they’re short-staffed.’

  Mary was not pacified and she confided her worries to Laurence.

  ‘Can you tell her there are no vacancies? I know I’m asking a lot, but she really shouldn’t be coming back to work at all, let alone so soon after having him.’

  ‘Trouble is, Mary, we’re very short-staffed. It’s my boss’s policy not to stop the men from enlisting if they want to, but it’s leaving me with a real headache organizing the rotas, I don’t mind telling you.’ He touched her arm sympathetically. ‘My dear, I’m honoured that you’ve felt able to confide in me, but have you thought that maybe – because of how Peggy feels about the baby – to come back to work might be good for her.’

  Mary stared at him. ‘I hadn’t looked at it that way,’ she said slowly. ‘Maybe you’re right. She spent so long on her own when – well, befo
re Freddie was born. Perhaps that’s part of the trouble and to mix with other people again would do her good.’ Mary sighed. ‘But I still don’t like her leaving her baby.’

  Laurence smiled a little wistfully. ‘It’s not us, is it? Mothers going out to work. In our day, wives and mothers were the home-makers.’

  Mary pulled a wry face. ‘I had to go out to work because Ted was injured in the war and couldn’t work – or – or wouldn’t. I didn’t know which it was.’ She’d never confided this to anyone before – not even her mother – but Laurence was the sort of man she felt she could trust implicitly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, contrite that he might have implied she’d not cared for her family as she might have done. ‘Times were hard then, my dear, and they are again now.’ He paused, then added, ‘So what do you want me to do about Peggy? I can lie through my teeth if you really want me to, but I think she’d know I was doing so. It’s no secret that we’re desperate for staff. And I’d be turning away a very good clippie.’

  ‘No, no, I wouldn’t want you to do that.’ Mary sighed. ‘Let her come back and we’ll see how it goes.’

  ‘I’ll watch out for her. At least the bombing seems to have lessened just lately.’

  There’d been isolated incidents, but nothing on the scale of what the city now called their blitz. The most recent had been at the end of July at Hunter’s Bar, but, happily, there had been no injuries.

  So when Peggy went to see Laurence, he said, ‘You just tell me how many hours a week you want to work and on what days and I’ll see what I can do. ‘Would it help if I ensure either your mother or Rose is at home when you’re at work?’

  Peggy shrugged disinterestedly. She was tired. Freddie had been fractious during the night and even though it had been Mary who’d got out of bed to him, his crying had still disturbed Peggy’s sleep. ‘It doesn’t really matter. Gran’s always there and Myrtle’s on her school holidays. She’ll be there until she starts at the university.’

  ‘She’s done well, hasn’t she? You must be very proud of her.’

  Peggy’s eyes darkened. She glanced at him, but said nothing, and Laurence realized he had said the wrong thing. Myrtle had been a credit to the family, but Peggy had brought them shame.

  Alice Wagstaffe was the first person to greet Peggy on the morning she started back at the depot. ‘Hello, Peg. What you doing here?’ The smile faded from the young woman’s face when she realized that Peggy was dressed in her clippie’s uniform. ‘You’re not coming back to work, surely? Not when you’ve got a young baby?’

  ‘He’s driving me mad with his crying,’ Peggy muttered. ‘Besides, there’s plenty of them at home to look after him.’

  ‘But you’re his mother.’ Alice was scandalized. She pursed her lips in disapproval. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are to have a lovely little baby. You should be at home with him.’

  ‘That’s none of your business, Alice.’ Peggy walked away towards the tram where her motorman for the day awaited, leaving Alice staring after her.

  ‘Put Freddie out in the pram near the front door. Poor little mite needs some fresh air,’ Grace instructed. It was a very hot Friday morning in late August.

  ‘Will he be all right out here?’ Myrtle said worriedly, as she manoeuvred the pram out of the front door and down the steep steps. She placed it carefully so that she could see it through the bay window of the front room. She glanced anxiously up and down the street. ‘Wouldn’t he be safer in the back yard?’

  ‘The sun’s not on the back yard now. He’ll be all right.’ Grace laughed. ‘Afraid someone’s going to run off with him?’

  ‘They might,’ Myrtle said seriously.

  ‘He’ll be safe as houses,’ Grace assured her and turned to go back into the house to prepare the evening meal for when three hungry clippie girls arrived home.

  Myrtle eyed her grandmother. Houses weren’t all that safe these days, not when Hitler’s bombs rained down on them all, but she held her tongue. Instead she murmured, ‘I’ll do my reading in the front room. I can keep an eye on the pram then.’

  ‘Reading? What reading? You’ve finished school.’

  Myrtle bit her lip. ‘It’s for university. If you’re doing English, you get sent a reading list.’

  While Freddie slept peacefully in the sunshine and Grace peeled potatoes and carrots and turned her nose up at the meagre ration of meat that had to last the family for two days, Myrtle settled in the quietness of the sitting room. She was soon engrossed in the story. She loved literature, but since Freddie’s arrival biology lessons had taken on a new meaning and soon she would have to tell her family of a decision she had made concerning her future. She wasn’t sure what their reaction would be, so she’d decided to leave it until she’d taken her exams. She hadn’t wanted family rows disrupting her concentration. But her exams were over now and she still hadn’t plucked up the courage to tell them. Soon it would be too late and she’d be on her way to university.

  Absorbed though she was in her work, she nevertheless glanced up every few minutes, checking that the pram was still there. As she came to the end of a chapter, she stood up, left the room and opened the front door. ‘Time you came in now, little man. Sun’s going down and it’s getting chilly.’ With a smile, she stepped towards the pram and grasped the handle.

  ‘Have you had a nice sleep, Freddie—?’ she began and then gasped in horror.

  The covers had been pulled back and the pram was empty.

  For a moment she was frozen in shock. Then she glanced wildly up and down the street, but there was only Letty on her knees scrubbing her front doorstep. Myrtle was about to call out to her, but then she realized Grace might have fetched the baby in, but couldn’t manage to bring the pram indoors. Myrtle flew back inside and into the living room. ‘Gran – Gran, have you got him?’ She stopped in the doorway, seeing her grandmother dusting the mantelpiece.

  Grace glanced round as Myrtle, now rigid with fear, shouted, ‘Where is he? Where’s Freddie?’

  ‘Out in his pram, of course. Where d’you—?’

  ‘No, he isn’t. The pram’s empty.’

  ‘Wha—’ Grace dropped her duster and stumbled forward as if she had to see the empty pram for herself before she would believe it.

  ‘A’ you sure one of the others hasn’t come home and taken him upstairs?’

  ‘No, no, I’d have heard the front door. Oh, Gran, I looked out every few minutes. Honest, I did.’

  They stepped outside and stood staring at the empty pram.

  ‘There’s Mrs Bradshaw. I’ll ask her if she—’

  ‘No!’ Grace gripped Myrtle’s arm fiercely. ‘I don’t want her knowing – telling everyone we can’t look after him properly—’

  ‘Gran – I have to. Everyone’s got to know and the sooner the better. That’s the only way we’re going to find him.’

  She pulled herself free and ran out of their gate, calling out, ‘Mrs Bradshaw – Mrs Bradshaw—’

  ‘Eh up, lass, what’s to do?’

  ‘Freddie—’ Myrtle panted as she reached the woman. ‘He’s gone from his pram. Have you seen him? Have you seen anyone with him?’

  ‘Oh my gawd!’ Mrs Bradshaw scrambled to her knees and hurried towards where Grace still stood helplessly by the empty pram.

  ‘I did see someone near the pram – a young woman – but me eyes aren’t that clever these days and I thought it were your Peggy.’

  Myrtle and Grace glanced at each other. Galvanized into action, Myrtle rushed into the house and up the stairs, two at a time, calling as she went, ‘Peggy, Peggy – are you home?’ She flung open the door, but the bedroom was empty. Just to be sure she checked the other two bedrooms and the bathroom too, but there was no one there.

  Outside again, she shook her head at the questioning glances from both her grandmother and Letty.

  ‘Could it have been our Peggy and she’s carried him somewhere?’ Grace ventured.

  ‘Where?’

&n
bsp; ‘I don’t know. I’m just trying to think what might have happened.’

  ‘Someone’s taken him,’ Letty said sagely. ‘That’s what. You hear about it, don’t you?’

  Grace sagged suddenly, leaning heavily against the doorframe. She closed her eyes and moaned. ‘Oh, Freddie, my little Freddie. Don’t say that, Letty. Don’t say it.’

  ‘Let’s get her inside, Myrtle,’ Letty said, suddenly concerned for the older lady. ‘She looks as if she’s going to collapse any minute. I’ll make her some strong tea whilst you run up to the top of the street and see ’f you can see anyone carrying a baby.’

  ‘How long ago was it you saw someone?’

  ‘Ooo, only about ten minutes.’

  But ten minutes was a long time, Myrtle thought, as she ran up the street. The woman could have got on a tram or a bus. Anything, in that time.

  There was no one who fitted Letty’s description of the woman in sight. Myrtle ran back towards her own home and then beyond it towards the other end of the street. Again, no one. There were people about of course, walking or waiting for transport, but no young woman carrying a three-month-old baby in her arms. Frantic with worry and guilt, she hurried home. Letty was still busy in the kitchen.

  ‘Gran,’ Myrtle whispered so their neighbour could not hear. ‘You don’t think Peggy has taken him and – and—’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘You know she talked about having him adopted, I just wondered if—’

  ‘No, no, she wouldn’t. She’s been so much better just lately.’

  ‘It could all have been an act and she was just biding her time. Maybe she’s found someone who’d take him and—’

  ‘No, no, I won’t believe it.’

  ‘What’s that, love?’ Letty asked, appearing in the doorway carrying a tray laden with cups, saucers and the teapot. ‘I can’t find any milk, Mrs Booth.’

  ‘It’s outside the back door in a bucket of water, keeping cool,’ Myrtle said. ‘I’ll get it.’

  She returned moments later, but was too agitated to drink the cup of tea which Letty poured out for her.

 

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