The Hidden Women

by Kerry Barrett

  I’d never really spoken to Annie or Flora about what happened to me. Annie, bless her heart, hadn’t a clue who Ian Mayhew was, and yet my reaction obviously told her that this strange man turning up would be difficult for me. She steered me to a bench and sat me down.

  ‘He’s not here,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘There must be a mix-up.’ I could hear the words Annie was saying, but somehow I couldn’t understand them. Mr Mayhew was in the army. He was in France. Or Africa. Or the Pacific. He wasn’t here.

  But Annie was holding my hand, tight, and looking straight at me.

  ‘Is he …?’ she began. ‘Did he …?’

  After a tiny hesitation, I nodded.

  Annie pinched her lips together. ‘He wants to see you. But if you don’t want to, I can go and tell him you’re stuck out on a job.’

  I didn’t speak. I didn’t know if I wanted to see him.

  But Annie hadn’t finished. ‘He’s hurt, Lil. Pretty badly.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He’s in the office. He’s alone. I said I’d find you.’

  I looked, stupidly, in the direction of the office and then back at Annie.

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Annie said.

  I pulled my bag off my shoulder and handed it to her. ‘No,’ I said, taking a deep breath. ‘I’ll be fine. Can you put my bag on my bed for me?’

  I walked towards the office, feeling queasy. I’d not seen Mr Mayhew since the day I’d told him about the baby and he’d told me about the other girls. I’d hidden out at home until we went to Scotland and he’d obviously tried his hardest to avoid me. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why he’d turn up here now.

  He was sitting on a plastic chair in the deserted outer office. Because it was dark now and the office was lit with harsh strip lighting I could see him through the window without him seeing me. He looked terrible. He was in uniform but it was hanging off him, he was so thin. His hat was on the table in front of him and I could see his hair was receding and grey. He looked old, I thought with surprise.

  He looked up and I froze, worried he’d see me, then realised he was actually looking at his own reflection in the window. And my goodness, now I saw what Annie had meant. His face was puckered down the left side, pitted and drawn with scarring from – I assumed – burns. His left arm hung limply against his torso, his hand wizened and wasted. And I saw now that he was using crutches. They were resting against the chair at his side. He’d obviously been badly injured. I felt a rush of something – love? sympathy? horror? – as I looked at the pulled, shiny skin on his scarred face. I realised now how cruel he’d been to me, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see him like this.

  I breathed in deeply, then before I could change my mind, I pushed open the door to the office.

  ‘Ian,’ I said. It was the first time I’d called him anything other than Mr Mayhew.

  He looked up at me, then pushing himself up with his good hand, he staggered to his feet. ‘Hello, Lil,’ he said. ‘Sorry to drop in unannounced.’

  He was talking like we were acquaintances who were politely making small talk. I hoped he wouldn’t try to kiss me, so I took a step backwards and gazed at him in confusion.

  ‘You look wonderful,’ Mr Mayhew said. ‘Grown up.’ With his good hand he gestured to his own body. ‘I’m fucked,’ he said.

  I winced at the harsh word, but I didn’t reply. I wasn’t sure what he was doing here or how he’d know I was here. My mouth was dry and I licked my lips.

  ‘What do you want?’ I croaked.

  Mr Mayhew smiled. It pulled the puckered skin taut and made him look more like his old self. ‘Can we sit?’ he said. ‘I find I get uncomfortable quite quickly if I stand for too long.’

  ‘What happened?’ I asked. He backed into the chair he’d been sitting in before, and I sat down next to him, leaving an empty chair between us.

  ‘El Alamein,’ he said. ‘Minefield.’

  I was impressed, despite myself. ‘Brave,’ I said.

  Mr Mayhew shrugged. ‘Not like some.’

  We sat quietly for a second, then he carried on.

  ‘I was in hospital for a long time, then a convalescent home, and then I went back to Kent for a while.’

  ‘I thought you’d moved away?’ I said. ‘You and …’ I swallowed the bile that rose up. ‘You and your wife?’

  ‘She went to America, to be with her sister,’ Mr Mayhew said dismissively. ‘I don’t think she’ll be back.’

  Silently, I wished Mrs Mayhew well with her new life. She deserved to be happy, I thought. But Mr Mayhew was still talking.

  ‘While I was in Kent, I saw your mother.’

  I closed my eyes briefly.

  ‘She was very kind. Saw me one day in the market square when two planes went over – dogfight. I heard the guns and it brought it all back. I had a bit of a funny turn and she was walking by. She sprang into action, calmed me down. Made sure I was all right.’

  ‘Like she did with Dad,’ I muttered. ‘She looked after Dad.’

  ‘And she was chatting away to me, talking about everything and nothing. Trying to distract me while I started to breathe normally again, and she mentioned her daughter was flying planes now.’

  Mum had been fairly discreet about what I’d been doing in the war. She knew all about keeping her cards close to her chest, thanks to Dad’s struggles, and she was always very much of the opinion that what went on in our family was no one else’s business. I wondered if she’d ever suspected that Robert was my son, but she seemed to accept Ruth’s stories of pregnancy without question.

  I knew what Mr Mayhew meant, though. I remembered when Dad had one of his episodes, especially at the start of the war when things were really bad, Mum would bustle round him, chatting inanely, giving him something to focus on other than imagining the awful things he’d seen in France. I could imagine her babbling about me and how I had swapped pianos for planes, not realising that Mr Mayhew would tuck that knowledge away.

  ‘What do you want?’ I said again, clearer this time. ‘I’m really tired and I’m flying again tomorrow.’

  ‘I wanted to see you,’ Mr Mayhew said. ‘I miss you.’

  I stared at him. ‘You don’t miss me.’

  Mr Mayhew, to my horror, had tears in his eyes. ‘I miss our life before,’ he said. ‘Before all this.’

  ‘When you were cheating on your wife and fucking me and Lord knows how many other girls?’ I said, knowing I was being crude and not caring one jot. ‘When you could charm any woman into bed? Or should I say, any girl.’ I spat the word at him.

  Mr Mayhew nodded. ‘You’re right to be angry,’ he said pathetically. ‘But I’ve been punished, Lil. Punished enough. I’ve lost my wife, and my looks, and my hand. I can’t even play the piano any more.’

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘I’m glad. You deserve it.’

  ‘Lil, please,’ he said. He reached out and took my hand. I didn’t pull away, even though I wanted to.

  ‘Did you think you could come back here and I’d tell you everything was all right, and we’d be together forever?’ I said. ‘Pick up where we left off?’

  He had the grace to look sheepish. That was obviously exactly what he’d thought.

  ‘I probably don’t even do it for you any more, do I?’ I patted my hair, which was escaping from my hat. ‘Now I don’t have my plait or my school uniform?’

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ Mr Mayhew said. He pulled me towards him and kissed me. For a second – just a second – I kissed him back and then I jerked my hand away and stood up.

  ‘I don’t want to see you again,’ I told him. ‘You have to leave. I’ll get some of the mechanics to show you the way out.’ I was thinking about Gareth and his friends, who were big lads and always willing to help me.

  ‘Lilian,’ Mr Mayhew said. ‘I love you.’

  ‘Hah,’ I practically shouted. ‘No, you don’t. You don’t love anyone except yourself.’

  I turned to g
o, then turned back. ‘You didn’t even ask about the baby,’ I said in despair at his selfishness. ‘You didn’t even ask.’

  He looked up at me. ‘Did you have it?’ he asked, pathetic again. ‘Am I a father?’

  ‘No,’ I said, lying without even thinking about it. ‘You’re not a father. The baby died.’

  I pushed open the door and walked out, hearing Mr Mayhew start to sob behind me.

  A movement round the side of the hut caught my eye, and I jumped. ‘Annie?’ I called quietly, wondering if she’d come to see if I needed help. But there was no reply.

  Slowly, I tiptoed round the side and jumped as I saw a couple entwined. They were leaning up against the wall of the hut, kissing.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, as I backed away, but not before I recognised them. It was Will and Rose.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said again, feeling sick at the thought that they might have seen me and Mr Mayhew together.

  I took one last glance through the window at Mr Mayhew, who was sitting in the plastic chair, head in his hands, and then I went to find my friends.

  Chapter 32

  Helena

  July 2018

  I got to work early the next day. Part of me wanted to ignore the transcript that would be sitting waiting for me on my desk, but another part wanted to read it as soon as I could.

  I’d phoned Jack that morning and begged him to come with me to work but he’d laughed at me.

  ‘I can’t come with you because it’s weird for a grown-up to take her boyfriend to work, nice as it sounds,’ he said, while I did an inner dance because he’d called himself my boyfriend. ‘And also, I’ve got a rehearsal.’

  ‘Nervous?’ I asked him. I already knew how worried he got when he was starting something new. Today was his first read-through for a new ITV drama tipped to be the next Line of Duty, and then he was heading off to New York again.

  ‘Bricking it,’ he said. ‘How can I play a police officer? What do I know about crime fighting?’

  ‘You’ll be great,’ I said. ‘Dora, eat your Cheerios, darling. When do you get your uniform? Do you get to bring it home?’

  ‘Uniforms?’ he said. ‘Really?’

  ‘Well, not uniforms in general. Just you in uniform,’ I said.

  ‘Jack,’ said Dora, banging her spoon on the table and waking me from my daydream of Jack in a uniform. ‘Jack read the book.’

  ‘Dora wants you to read to her again,’ I told him.

  ‘I definitely will,’ he said. ‘But right now, I have to go. And so do you.’

  ‘Come with me,’ I wailed again. ‘I don’t want to read it without you.’

  ‘Then don’t read it,’ he said. ‘Or wait until later and we’ll read it together.’

  I rolled my eyes at the very idea of waiting hours and hours with the transcript just sitting there. ‘That’s not going to happen,’ I said.

  ‘Then go, read, and ring me if you want to talk,’ he said. ‘Go!’

  I’d hung up, raced round getting Dora ready for nursery, dropped her off, and headed to work in a fluster, pausing only to text Jack a good luck message for his audition as I arrived at the office.

  But now, as I pulled off my coat and sat down at my desk, I thought I needed luck more than Jack. What was going to be in this transcript?

  I briefly – briefly – considered going to get a cup of tea from the kitchen before I started reading, but I was already turning the pages and opening the printout.

  I read it quickly at first, scanning the pages for anything that would give me a clue about Lil’s discharge. Then I read it again, more slowly this time, really taking in the enormity of what I was seeing.

  ‘What do you think?’ Elly’s voice made me jump and I looked up. The deserted office was filling up and there was a buzz of conversation around me. I’d not even noticed anyone coming in through the doors behind me, because I’d been so engrossed in all the court documents.

  Elly pulled up her chair and handed me a cup of tea. She’d obviously been in the office a while and I’d not realised.

  ‘Corker, right?’

  I nodded. ‘Oh. My. God,’ I said. ‘This is amazing.’

  ‘I can’t believe she was punished,’ Elly said, frowning. ‘I think she should have been given some sort of medal.’ She looked wistful. ‘You know what? This would be amazing telly. It would be a whole programme on its own.’

  ‘Oh wouldn’t it?’ I said. ‘It would be incredible.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Elly said. ‘Are you going to speak to Lil?’

  I looked through the printout again. I wasn’t really sure what to do with it. ‘I need to tell Miranda,’ I said.

  Luckily Miranda was free that evening. So, I raced over to her house after work and Lotta, Miranda’s au pair, put Dora to bed in the spare room. I’d lift her into the buggy and hope she didn’t wake up, later.

  Then we sat down in Miranda’s lovely – very neat – living room and I told her what I’d learned.

  ‘So the first thing you need to know is that I did not request these documents,’ I said.

  ‘Okayyyy,’ Miranda said, doubtfully.

  ‘I absolutely meant it when I told Dad this was the wrong way to approach it,’ I said. ‘But Elly saw I’d written the info down, and because she was requesting some documents herself, she did mine too. She thought she was doing me a favour.’

  ‘So you got the court documents accidentally?’ Miranda said.

  I nodded.

  ‘You could have deleted them,’ she pointed out.

  I snorted. ‘Yeah right,’ I said. ‘Would you have deleted them?’

  ‘Yes, I think I would have,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘You knew there would be consequences of carrying on this investigation and you should have made the decision not to find out any more.’

  I grinned at her. ‘I’ll go then,’ I said. ‘And not tell you what I found out?’

  I went to stand up and Miranda grabbed my arm.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ she said. ‘Spill.’

  With the faintest air of triumph, I took a breath. ‘Lilian was accused of running a network across the country, using contacts she made when she was flying planes,’ I said.

  Miranda looked confused. ‘A network of what? Black market stuff? Smuggling? Lil?’

  I smiled. ‘No, nothing like that,’ I said. ‘If this is true, then she was amazing, Miranda. She is amazing.’ I picked up the documents. ‘She was charged with contravening standing orders,’ I said.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Not much, to be honest. As far as I can tell it’s just a vague charge when they can’t make anything more specific stick.’

  ‘Riiight,’ said Miranda. ‘So what had she done to contravene these orders?’

  ‘Lil was accused of running a network organising abortions for women all over the country.’

  ‘Illegal abortions?’

  ‘Shut your mouth, Miranda,’ I said, laughing at her shocked reaction. ‘Yes, illegal abortions.’

  ‘She was making money out of women in trouble?’ Miranda said. ‘That doesn’t sound like Lil.’

  ‘She didn’t make any money out of it; the documents are very clear about that. In fact, there was very little evidence as far as I can see. No financial gains, no testimony from anyone she’d helped.’

  ‘Did she admit it?’

  ‘Nope,’ I said. ‘Well, ish. She admitted helping a friend get an abortion.’

  ‘But you think there’s more to it?’

  I gripped the court documents tighter. ‘I do,’ I said. ‘Don’t you think it all makes sense?’

  ‘It does,’ Miranda said cautiously. ‘But it seems so implausible. When was this?’

  ‘Towards the end of the war. Late summer of 1944.’

  ‘So she’d not even have been twenty-one? And she did all this by herself?’

  I wrinkled my nose up. ‘Hmm,’ I said.

  Miranda sat up a bit straighter. ‘What do you mean?’r />
  ‘Lil was the only one who was arrested and the only one who was discharged. But some of the notes mention two other women – Annie Armstrong and Flora Stewart. Lil, though, swore she was the only person involved. That she’d arranged that one abortion and that one only, and that she’d acted alone.’

  Miranda whistled through her teeth. ‘This is incredible,’ she said. ‘And the verdict was guilty?’

  ‘Yes and no,’ I told her. ‘Lil admitted arranging that one abortion in court. If the network did exist …’

  ‘… and you think it did,’ Miranda added.

  ‘If it did exist, Lil covered its tracks so well that there just wasn’t enough evidence. So instead Lil was charged with contravening standing orders for arranging one abortion for a friend.’

  ‘What a bloody woman,’ Miranda said.

  ‘I know.’

  We sat for a moment in silence thinking about Lil and what she might have done. And then I voiced what we were both wondering. ‘Do you think this proves that Lil is Dad’s real mum?’

  Miranda made a face. ‘You think her own experiences as a teenager made her want to help other people in the same situation?’

  ‘Makes sense. The two things link with each other.’

  ‘I think you’re probably right,’ Miranda said thoughtfully. ‘Imagine being fifteen, pregnant, terrified …’

  ‘No idea what to do for the best,’ I added. ‘Maybe the father was fifteen too – what could he do to help? Or if he was older, he’d have been off to fight.’

  ‘And then someone stepped in to help.’

  ‘Grandma Ruth,’ I said. ‘She stepped in. She and Lil went to Scotland, Lil had the baby, and Grandma Ruth adopted him.’

  ‘This is huge,’ Miranda said.

  ‘That’s what Jack said. I think it’s wonderful.’

  ‘Wonderful for us seeing it through twenty-first-century eyes,’ Miranda pointed out. ‘Not so wonderful for Lil who went through it.’

  Since I’d read the documents, I’d been wondering about what to do next, and now I thought I knew. ‘I want to talk to Lil,’ I said.

  ‘What if it upsets her?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about Dad, or about her going to Scotland,’ I said. ‘I want to talk about the court martial. She did an amazing, brave, innovative thing and she was punished for it – unfairly, in my opinion. She should have some recognition. If not officially, then at least from us.’