The Hidden Women

by Kerry Barrett

  There was a flicker of something between us, like a charge of electricity. I shifted in my seat a bit to break the tension.

  ‘I feel bad that I’m choosing Dad over Lil,’ I said.

  Jack reached across the table and took my hand. I moved my wine glass out of the way just in the nick of time and actually smiled at his clumsiness. What was happening to me? Our fingers fitted together exactly. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and then let go.

  ‘Let’s do a bit of research and see where it takes us,’ he said.

  My hand felt hot where he’d touched it, and cold now he’d let go.

  ‘Okay,’ I agreed, wondering if I’d regret it. ‘Let’s see where it takes us.’

  Chapter 17

  Lilian

  September 1939

  Once I realised I was pregnant, I did nothing at all. I was suspended, like vegetables in aspic, unable to act or even think. I stayed quiet. I went to school and came home and read my books. I avoided Mum and Dad, and I kept away from Mr Mayhew. I didn’t want to see him. I dropped a note through his door saying I was needed at home and couldn’t come to my lessons, and I didn’t hear anything from him.

  It was harder to avoid Bobby. When war was declared, just a couple of days after my realisation, I wanted to go and see my brother, to ask what he’d decided to do. But instead I waited for him to come round and break the news that he’d joined up and he was, as he’d planned, heading into the air force. It was the first time I’d ever seen my father cry.

  Ruth sought me out. She was wretched at the prospect of Bobby joining up. She had two brothers of her own, who’d also joined up, and she was feeling sad and scared and she wanted me to comfort her. But I was stricken with guilt. I couldn’t get things straight in my head. I knew now that I was expecting a baby. A real baby. And I knew that I couldn’t tell Ruth about it. She would hate me. And I didn’t blame her.

  My head was a tangle of thoughts and emotions. I loved Mr Mayhew and I hated him. I wanted to be with him and I never wanted to see him again. I wanted to tell Ruth the truth and I wanted to be far away from her, so she wouldn’t guess. I lay in bed at night and wished my baby away. I wished that I would bleed like Ruth had. And then I cried because I remembered Ruth’s little scrap of a child and how sad she was, and I knew I was a terrible, awful, bad person. I cried when I thought of Mrs Mayhew and how much she loved Mr Mayhew and how she didn’t know what he was doing when she wasn’t there. I cried when I thought of my father, and of Bobby going off to fight the Nazis … I cried all the time.

  I stopped eating. I found I couldn’t stomach much anyway, and it seemed wrong to nourish my body when it had done so much that was bad. I didn’t have much meat on my bones at the best of times, but after a week or so of barely eating, I was already growing thinner, and my skin had taken on a grey tone. I caught Mum and Bobby talking about me in the kitchen when they thought I was upstairs and couldn’t hear. I lurked by the door and peered at them through the gap.

  ‘Is it me?’ Bobby had asked, his face etched with worry. ‘Is she worried about me going away?’

  ‘I think it’s everything,’ Mum said. ‘The war, your father …’ She paused. ‘She’s not playing the piano. She hasn’t been to her lessons and even when I ask her to play something for me, she won’t.’

  Bobby sighed. ‘Is she going to school?’

  ‘Far as I know. That headmistress would be round to complain fast enough if she wasn’t, I’m sure.’

  Mum folded the tea towel she was holding and hung it over the edge of the sink.

  ‘Oh, Bobby,’ she said. ‘Are you doing the right thing? Do you have to go?’

  Bobby shrugged. ‘You know I do,’ he said. ‘I just wish the timing was better. With Lilian the way she is, and Dad, and Ruth …’

  Mum stroked his face, like she did to me when I was little and I felt poorly.

  ‘I’ll take care of Ruth,’ she said. ‘Don’t you worry.’

  Standing in the dim hallway, I felt a crushing sadness. More than anything at all I wanted to be little again. I wanted to climb on to my mother’s knee and cuddle up, while she stroked my face – just as she’d done to Bobby – and told me everything was all right. I didn’t feel like an adult, despite Mr Mayhew telling me I was a beautiful woman. I felt like a little girl. A silly, naughty little girl who’d done something terrible and was going to pay the price.

  I let out a sob, and stifling it so Bobby didn’t realise I was there, I turned and ran upstairs before he and Mum caught me listening.

  A day or so later, when my stomach was starting to swell and I’d thanked my lucky stars my school uniform was a pinafore dress and not a skirt, I came out of school and found Ruth at the gate.

  I stopped for a second, then carried on walking. ‘I can’t stop,’ I called. ‘I have chores to do.’

  Ruth hurried after me and took my arm. ‘I spoke to your mum,’ she said. ‘She wants you to rest. No chores today. Come and have a chat with me.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I said dully. ‘I really can’t.’

  Ruth pulled my arm so I turned to face her. ‘You bloody well can,’ she said. I stared in surprise. She never so much as snapped at me.

  ‘There is something going on with you, Lilian Miles, and I don’t know what it is. But your mum and Bobby and me, we’re all worried out of our minds. And with Bob going away and your dad in the state he is, worrying about you is the last thing we need. So you’ll come with me, Missy, and you’ll tell me what’s going on.’

  I opened my mouth to protest then shut it quickly when I saw the expression on her face. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll come.’

  We walked into the centre of the village, and sat down on a bench by the war memorial. There were fresh flowers at the bottom and I shuddered, wondering if there would be more names added before too long.

  ‘Right then,’ said Ruth. ‘Spill the beans.

  I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her the truth, but I had to tell her something or she wouldn’t leave me alone. I took a breath. ‘I think I’m in love,’ I said.

  Ruth stared at me. ‘In love?’ she said. She started to laugh. ‘You’re in love? No wonder you’re such a mess.’

  I tried to laugh along with her, but I couldn’t.

  ‘Who is it?’ Ruth said. ‘A lad from school? Is it that lad who plays clarinet? Gordon whatsit?’

  I shook my head. I couldn’t speak.

  Ruth nudged me. ‘Come on,’ she said. She seemed relieved that it wasn’t anything more serious.

  ‘It’s not someone from school,’ I managed to say. ‘He’s older than me.’

  ‘Older?’ she said, teasing me. ‘Handsome is he?’

  I thought of Mr Mayhew’s swarthy looks. For the first time I wondered if he was Jewish. I’d never seen him or Mrs Mayhew at church, though they weren’t the only people in the village who didn’t go. I nodded.

  ‘Handsome,’ I whispered. I screwed my face up. ‘And married.’

  Ruth looked shocked, but I could tell she was pretending.

  ‘Married, eh?’ She chuckled. ‘And you’ve got a crush on him? Ah, lovey, it’s hard when you fall for someone who doesn’t feel the same way. But you just need to pick yourself up and get on with things. You’ll meet someone else. Someone your own age.’

  I looked at her sweet, kind face and I longed to throw myself into her arms and cry and tell her everything.

  ‘It’s Mr Mayhew,’ I wanted to say. ‘And I thought I loved him, and that he loved me, and I wanted him so badly I felt it like an ache in my belly. But when it happened, it wasn’t like I expected it to be. It hurt and it made me feel sad and sore. And now I’m pregnant and I don’t want to be.’

  But I knew I couldn’t say those words. Not now. Not ever.

  ‘Oh, lovey,’ Ruth said again, obviously seeing my stricken face. ‘It’s all going to be all right.’

  She put her arm round me and pulled me close.

  ‘It’s looking like this war isn’t
going to be nearly as bad as we all thought it was going to be. They’re saying it’ll be over and done with by Christmas. Bobby’s packing and getting ready to go off to training, and I reckon he won’t even get past London before they send him back again. And I know your mum will be pleased about that because she’s worried about him flying those planes. And I can’t blame her. Your dad will be fine. He’s been through worse than this, bless him.’

  She kissed my temple and gave my plait a gentle tug.

  ‘And your silly heart will heal,’ she said. ‘You’ll get over this, my darling. And you’ll find someone new. Everything is going to be fine.’

  I rested my head on Ruth’s shoulder as a tear rolled down my cheek. I wanted to believe everything she was saying but I knew it was all just platitudes. Who knew how long this war would last, or whether Bobby would make it home. I feared even the distant rumble of planes or guns would shred Dad’s remaining nerves to pieces, and that Mum would crumble if he did. And I knew that my heart would possibly never heal. How could it? When I was carrying Mr Mayhew’s baby and I had no idea what to do about it?

  ‘Everything is going to be fine,’ Ruth said again. But she didn’t sound very sure.

  Chapter 18

  Helena

  June 2018

  The actor was in the same position in the lounge as he’d been the last time I’d visited. This time, he seemed to be telling stories about his career. A group of elderly women were listening, hanging on his every word.

  ‘And then of course, there was the time I played a guest role on the sitcom Family Fun …’ he was saying. One of the women near him – who I recognised as being one of the former stars of that very show – pointedly raised an eyebrow and picked up a magazine, and I chuckled to myself as I sneaked past to find Lil.

  She was in her room today. She was lying on her bed, eyes closed, listening to an Elton John record that was spinning on the turntable she’d brought with her from home.

  ‘Oh, I can’t bear all this modern rubbish,’ I said. ‘Why can’t you listen to some proper music?’

  She opened one eye and looked at me. ‘Get with it, Grandma,’ she said. ‘All the kids are into Elton John now. He’s going to be the next big thing, just you wait and see.’

  I laughed. ‘Are you feeling okay? It’s not like you to have a lie-down during the day.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I just didn’t sleep very well last night and while I adore Hugh most of the time, when I’m tired and he goes off on one I find it hard to bite my tongue. Thought I was better off in here. I’ll sit up now you’re here and we can chat.’

  As I helped her into her chair, I told her about the sitcom actress in the lounge and she chuckled.

  ‘Where’s Dora today?’ she asked.

  ‘With Miranda,’ I said.

  ‘I like that you girls help each other out,’ Lil said approvingly. ‘It’s how it should be.’

  I smiled, and we shared some small talk about Mum and Dad, and Immy’s latest project, saving elephants in a remote part of Africa. Lil showed me a postcard she’d received from Andy from his archaeological dig in Shetland and she asked lots of questions about what he was doing, and the time period he was interested in – none of which I could answer because, frankly, I never paid that much attention to Andy’s digs until they were finished and I could see what he’d found for myself.

  The whole time, I watched her like a hawk, wondering if there was anything else – any other important memories – that had slipped from her mind. But as far as I could tell she was the same Lil. Guarded and slightly distant, admittedly, but funny, sharp, and with absolutely no time for anyone who annoyed her.

  ‘You look different,’ she said, eyeing me carefully. ‘Have you changed your hair?’

  I shook my head. ‘I never change my hair,’ I pointed out. I’d had the same long, straight style with a blunt fringe, since I was ten.

  But Lil wasn’t giving up. ‘New glasses?’

  ‘Nope, had these a while.’

  ‘Different outfit?’

  I was wearing jeans and a plain black T-shirt. It wasn’t exactly quirky or out of the ordinary. I shook my head again and Lil gasped.

  ‘I know what it is.’

  I looked down at myself, wondering what she’d seen.

  ‘You look happy,’ she said. There was an accusatory edge to her voice. ‘Are you happy?’

  I giggled in a very un-Helena girly fashion. ‘I am,’ I said. ‘But it’s not like I was unhappy before.’

  Lil narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you met someone?’

  ‘God, you’re like the Spanish Inquisition,’ I said, grinning. ‘No, I’ve not met anyone.’

  ‘Really? Because you look giddy.’

  ‘Giddy?’

  ‘Don’t be coy. It’s about bloody time if you ask me. It’s ages since you got shot of that awful Greg.’

  ‘He got rid of me,’ I pointed out. ‘And Dora.’

  Lil rolled her eyes. ‘Tell me,’ she said.

  ‘It’s just a crush,’ I said, feeling myself blush. ‘It’s totally one-sided.’

  ‘If it helps you move on, then that’s fine,’ said Lil. She was always so sensible and she was right. I’d been brooding over what had happened with Greg for too long, and Jack was a very welcome distraction.

  ‘He’s someone I met through work. He sort of arrived in my life and created chaos. And I don’t seem to mind.’

  Lil chuckled. ‘Your life could do with a bit of chaos, if you ask me.’

  ‘I think you might be right, there,’ I said. ‘It’s crazy, though, Lil. Nothing’s happened between us – he took my hand for about five seconds once, and he kissed me on the cheek last time we met. But I can’t stop thinking about him. I just want to spend all my time with him.’

  ‘Don’t lose yourself,’ Lil said, her tone sharp. ‘Don’t spend all your time with him.’

  ‘I won’t.’ I was a bit taken aback by her negative reaction when she’d started out so positive. ‘But we’re working together. On a … sort of project.’

  ‘What sort of project?’

  ‘He’s one of the celebs we’re researching, actually,’ I said, feeling a bit silly, like this thing I had with Jack really was just a schoolgirl crush.

  Lil raised her narrow eyebrows. ‘What’s his story?’

  ‘His great-grandfather fought at the Somme,’ I said, telling the truth and lying all at once. I couldn’t exactly mention his grandad being in the ATA.

  ‘And that’s keeping you busy, is it?’

  I made a face. I could see where she was going with this. ‘Pretty busy.’

  Lil gave a brisk nod. ‘Good.’

  ‘Jack – that’s his name.’ I stopped short of saying his surname in case she put two and two together and came up with Frank Jones and the ATA. ‘He was in that detective thing Dad did the music for.’ I felt like I was babbling and I didn’t really know why. ‘I’m seeing him later. We’re going bowling. He’s invited us both, me and Dora, bless him. I have no idea why he chose bowling or why I agreed. I don’t think I’m very good at bowling …’

  Lil was sitting very still in her chair. ‘This has nothing to do with the questions you had last time?’ she said, interrupting my rambles about bowling shoes.

  I felt like a weasel as I assumed what I hoped was an innocent face. ‘Questions?’ I said, lightly. ‘Oh, the ATA stuff? No, nothing to do with that.’

  There was a pause as Lil studied me.

  ‘I just thought it might be fun to check out some of my own family history, as I spend so much time researching other people’s,’ I said, trying not to sound like I was making this up as I went along. ‘But actually, I’m so busy now with work – and with Jack – I don’t have time to research the poor Miles family.’

  I sent silent curses to my father for putting me in the position of lying to Lil, and hoped she’d believe me.

  There was a beat of silence, and then Lil gave me one her dazzling smiles. ‘Tell me who
else you’re researching, darling,’ she said. ‘I love hearing your stories.’

  With a sigh of relief, I started telling her about the Sixties’ pop star who was related to Lady Jane Grey. It seemed I was off the hook. Lil believed me when I said I wasn’t doing any digging into what she did during the war, so I was free to carry on.

  ‘I just don’t know why she is being so secretive,’ I told Jack later. We were indeed going bowling – that bit hadn’t been a lie. Jack had sent me a text earlier saying he thought I was stressing over Dad asking me to do the research and that I should have some fun. Another text had arrived almost straight away.

  ‘Bring Dora,’ he’d added. ‘I’d love to meet her.’

  I’d almost said I was busy, but suddenly I couldn’t face another evening alone at home watching Netflix so I’d agreed. And here we were, at the bowling alley. I’d not been bowling for about twenty years.

  ‘She changed completely when I told her I’d stopped researching my own family – went from sullen and negative to her usually smiley self,’ I told Jack.

  ‘Was that awkward?’

  ‘God, it made me feel like a worm,’ I said, ‘knowing I was lying to her.’

  ‘Are you intrigued?’ Jack said with a sly grin. ‘Is your interest piqued?’

  I groaned. ‘Completely,’ I admitted. ‘Dad is so desperate to know more and I have to admit I am interested to find out what she’s hiding. And then I remember she’s our Lil and she must have her reasons.’

  We were queuing up at a retro bowling alley in the centre of town. It was done out like a 1950s American diner, and I felt like I was in Grease. Dora, predictably, had gone to sleep in her pushchair, which I was pleased about, even though I knew it meant I’d have a hellish bedtime when we got home.

  ‘It definitely has more than a little whiff of mystery about it,’ Jack agreed.

  ‘Dad’s completely obsessed,’ I said. ‘He’s been messaging me so much I’ve had to mute him.’

  ‘Why do you think he’s so interested?’ Jack said.

  ‘Ah, well that in itself is a mystery. He got quite emotional when he asked me to do the research – begged me really. But then he downplays it and says it’s just something he wants to know more about.’