Hazel shook her head. She was a few days late but thought it might be because she’d been doing too much, with the modelling rehearsals after work. She skipped a few meals, and that made her feel ill, so perhaps going hungry might also be why her monthly hadn’t arrived on time.
“How late are you?”
Hazel shrugged. “A few days.” She quickly rushed to explain, “But you know how busy I’ve been and I’ve missed meals and been so tired. Maybe that’s why, and—.”
“Don’t be a fool, Hazel!” Eunice grabbed her hand. “A young, healthy lass like you shouldn’t be late because she’s working too hard or going hungry now and then!” She gave a quick, exasperated sigh. “Have you felt sick? Are your breasts sore?”
Hazel absently touched her tender breast and nodded.
“Oh, Lord!”
“But I can’t be pregnant. There must be some other explanation.” Hazel did not want to believe she might be having a baby. She couldn’t be. All her hopes for a future in modelling would be over before they’d begun. Mrs Wilson wouldn’t want to know her if she found out. The agents from the modelling agencies wouldn’t want her. Then she thought about Ally and the French letters. If only she’d known about them sooner, she thought.
“You’ll have to get Glenn to meet your parents as soon as possible. You might be charging up the aisle faster than a galloping horse with your dad close behind with a shotgun to Glenn’s back.”
“Don’t make fun of me, Eunice. If you’re right, I’ll be in a right pickle.”
“You’ll have to tell Glenn if your monthly doesn’t come soon, won’t you?”
Hazel couldn’t think about telling him. She had no idea what he might say. Glenn might think she was trying to trap him into marriage. She did want to marry him but she wanted him to want to marry her. She didn’t want him to feel he had no choice. Marriage should be something they both wanted. Her thoughts strayed to what marriage might mean. They would be able to make love as often as they wanted to. She wouldn’t have to feel ashamed of her feelings if they were married.
Even though they’d only done it once, she thought about it often and re-lived the sensations frequently, in her mind when she was alone in her bed. Shame was overshadowed and eclipsed by the memory of how Glenn had made her feel.
It wouldn’t matter whether or not they made a baby, if they were married. She remembered the conversation she’d had with Ally about avoiding getting in the family way. Ally had said that even if a girl did get pregnant, there were ways of making it go away.
“When will you speak to him?” Eunice insisted.
“I’ll speak to Glenn when there’s something to tell him. I could get my monthly any day now. There’s no need to panic just because I’m a couple of days overdue.”
Two weeks later Hazel still hadn’t had her monthly period and was starting to worry that her friend might be right. She felt nauseous in the mornings, and her breasts had grown and were sore.
Glenn was growing impatient with her constant refusals to go into the dark alleys with him on Saturday nights, and she was running out of excuses.
He still seemed happy to see her, and she had enjoyed going to the pictures with him and sitting on the town hall steps, talking. Glenn showed his displeasure in her reluctance to be intimate by leaving early to go off with his pals, but he still came to see her at work when his shifts allowed. They would make the most of their brief time together in the tiny, secluded kitchen courtyard by kissing and cuddling on the doorstep.
“What’s wrong, Petal?” he asked after she removed his hands from her tender chest for the second time. “I miss touching you and being close to you. It’s torture for me when you push me away!”
“But I can’t let you touch me like that when Cynthia could be looking out at us. It isn’t right!”
“Then let me take you to our special doorway in town on Saturday. It’s been weeks, and I can’t keep my hands off you for much longer. It isn’t fair, Petal.”
“I’m sorry, Glenn.” She hung her head.
“Don’t be sorry, Petal. Tell me what’s wrong. Didn’t you like what we did? Is that it?”
She lifted her head quickly. “No, I loved what we did. You made me feel wonderful. It was lovely.”
“Then why don’t you want to do it again?”
“I do, but, well, I…” She almost told him her fears about being pregnant but thought it better to keep it to herself until she knew for sure. She didn’t want to worry Glenn unnecessarily. “I feel guilty and ashamed. Nice girls aren’t supposed to let a lad do what we did.”
“Nobody knows but us, Petal. You have nothing to be guilty about. I love you, and you love me. Isn’t that enough reason to want me to make love to you again?”
She had to ask what had been on her mind. “Did you tell your pals about what you did with me?”
“Goodness, no! Of course, I didn’t. What do you take me for? That wouldn’t be fair on you, now would it? I love you, Petal. I respect you. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
She thrilled to hear him declare his love for her but the fear of being pregnant kept her mouth closed. She knew she couldn’t keep him at bay for long. A man like Glenn might give up and move on to another girl who would be more willing than she was to please him.
As the days went on, she found it more difficult to concentrate at work and Cynthia was always telling her off.
“What on earth has got into you, Hazel?” her boss asked one morning. “I’m going to start calling you Miss Forgetful if you don’t buck your ideas up. That’s the third order this morning you’ve mixed up!”
“Sorry, Cynthia. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” She apologised to the customer and swapped the order. “I’ll get you the tea now, Mrs Tolson. Sorry, I forgot it.”
“She’s in love, that girl!” Mrs Brown nudged her husband. “I was just like that when we first met, remember?”
Mr Brown glanced up from his plate of stew and dumplings but didn’t respond.
“Oh, I think it’s romantic.” Mrs Brown continued, “Would you be mooning over that young man who was in a few months back, love? The one with the deep voice?”
Hazel hesitated. She didn’t like to be the centre of attention and realised that if Mrs Brown was putting two and two together, it wouldn’t be long before the gossip reached her parents’ ears. “Excuse me. I have work to do.”
As she hurried into the kitchen, her mind began to fill with panic. She had to do something now before it was too late. It was Saturday, and there would be no dinner rush in the café because Cynthia closed at noon. She didn’t usually work on Saturdays, but her boss had asked her to work this week because there was a fair in town and she knew it would be busier than usual. She had arranged to go to the fair with Glenn later, but she wasn’t in the mood to enjoy the attractions. Her mind was too full of worry to leave any room for having fun.
She had to do something before her predicament began to be obvious to everyone else. As an idea began to develop, she knew what she had to do. She had no time to waste. If she was going to do anything, she had to do it now.
Hazel was doing her boss a favour by working on her day off, so she didn’t feel too guilty about deciding to leave early. Fear of what she was about to do made her fingers tremble as she unfastened her pinafore.
“What are you doing? It isn’t closing time yet!” Cynthia watched her fold her apron and reach for her coat. “Where do you think you are you going?”
“Sorry, Cynthia, but I have to go see someone. This can’t wait a minute longer.”
“Would that be a certain Mr Bradshaw?” her boss asked.
Hazel didn’t feel she could confide in Cynthia about what she was going to do, so she nodded. “I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch, but I have something important to do. I’ve been thinking about it all week, that’s why I’ve been forgetful.”
“What is it, love?” Her boss dropped the ladle into the pan of stew and came to take her by the shoulders. “Tell me what’s u
psetting you. I might be able to help.”
“I’m sorry, Cynthia. I can’t tell you because I don’t know myself.” She thought she should give her boss an explanation, and said, “I think I’m in trouble, and I have to sort it out before it gets any worse.”
“I understand, love. At least, I think I have a good idea. Tell that Glenn Bradshaw what’s been worrying you. If he’s any kind of man, he’ll stand by you.” Cynthia sighed heavily. “Go on with you. Let me know how it goes, won’t you?”
Hazel nodded and left the café, worrying how much Cynthia had guessed. She hurried on with a plan forming in her mind. She knew her modelling friend, Ally, worked at the local library, but that wouldn’t be open today. She would have to try to call at her home if she could remember where that was. She set out to walk to the area on the edge of town where she thought Ally lived with her mother.
After walking in circles for a while, she decided to ask a young woman who was walking close by with a baby in a pram. “Excuse me, but do you know whether Ally Armitage lives near here?”
“Yes, love. I think the Armitage family live two streets down that way.” The young woman pointed. “I’m not sure of the number, but their house has a tidy garden with a cherry blossom tree by the gate.”
“Thank you.”
She followed the directions and eventually found Ally’s house on a tree-lined avenue of large homes, built before the Great War. She hoped her new friend would be at home and nervously opened the gate.
A woman of about her mother’s age answered the door, but she was dressed more stylishly, and her hair was cut short in a fashionable bob.
“Can I help you?” the woman politely asked while glancing from Hazel’s shoes to the top of her head.
“I’m looking for Ally. Is she home?”
“If you mean Allison, yes she is. Who shall I say is calling?”
“I’m Hazel Harris. We worked together for Mrs Wilson.”
The woman frowned.
“The fashion shows?” Hazel prompted.
“Oh, yes. Why didn’t you say you were one of Ally’s modelling friends.” The woman’s attitude changed instantly. “Please come inside.”
Ally was walking down a wide staircase when her mother showed Hazel into the hall of the large house.
“Hazel!” The girl hurried to greet her. “What a lovely surprise!”
“I was hoping you might be in.”
“Thanks, Mam. We’ll use the back parlour if that’s all right.”
“You two girls have fun. I’ll bring you some lemonade in a few minutes.”
Hazel didn’t want Ally’s mother to disturb them. She worried the woman might overhear what she had to say. “Please don’t go to any trouble. I won’t be staying long.”
“Well!” The woman seemed offended for a few seconds, but then collected herself and straightened her shoulders. “If you’re sure.”
“We’re sure, Mam, thank you.” Ally took Hazel’s hand. “Come through.”
At the end of a long, carpeted hall, Ally showed her into a bright room decorated with floral wallpaper that matched some red, chenille curtains. A highly polished wooden dresser stood against one wall, but centre stage was a large sofa with plump red cushions.
“Sit down and tell me all about it.”
“Tell you about what?” Hazel’s eyes were still taking in the expensive furnishings.
“Whatever it is you came to see me about, silly.” Ally sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to her. “I can see it must be something serious.”
Hazel took a seat and blurted, “I think I’m in the family way.”
“Oh, no!” Ally gasped. “What makes you think that?”
“I’m late, I feel sick sometimes, and my breasts are sore.”
“Well, that sounds pretty good evidence, if you ask me, but what do you think I might be able to do for you?”
“You once told me that there are ways of dealing with an unwanted pregnancy. What can I do to get rid of it?”
“I see.” Ally pressed her lips together. “How far along are you?”
Hazel shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“When was your last monthly?”
“About two months ago.”
“Good, then we might be in luck.”
“Can you help me?”
Ally nodded and got to her feet. “I can take you to see a woman I know of. She might do the procedure right away, or you might have to go back another time.”
“What will she do?” Hazel began to have cold sweats just thinking about what might happen next.
“She’ll take the baby out of you. Do you have enough money?”
“How much will I need?”
Ally mentioned a sum of money and Hazel sucked in her breath. It would take every penny that Mrs Wilson had paid her.
“Do you have that much?”
“Not on me, but I can get it.”
“Then we’ll need to go fetch it first. This woman I know, won’t do anything until you’ve paid her.”
“Will you wait here while I go home to get it?”
“Don’t you want me to see where you live, is that it?”
Hazel shook her head. “I don’t want you to judge me. My home isn’t as posh as yours. I, I err…”
“Don’t worry about it. You should see where Alfred lives!” Ally giggled.
“Doesn’t he live in a house like yours?” Hazel asked.
“He has a tiny back-to-back house at the bottom of Westgate. It’s all he can afford for us at the moment.”
“I see.” Hazel didn’t see at all.
“Well, at least for now. After the divorce goes through, he’ll be able to buy a nice big house for us.”
Hazel had no idea about divorce courts. People didn’t talk about marriages ending. Her friends and neighbours would consider divorce an improper subject for discussion.
“I’ll get my coat.”
Chapter 17 – Decisions
Hazel had to suffer the indignity of making sure she was actually pregnant before the woman would agree to get rid of it for her. She undressed in Mrs Bridges’ front room and cringed when the older woman examined her.
“Open your legs girl! It’s a wonder you got yourself pregnant when you’re too shy to show what you’ve got!” The woman took hold of Hazel’s knees to prise them apart. “I’m doing you a big favour, you know. Seeing you on a Saturday, like this.” The dumpy woman huffed impatiently. “I don’t work weekends, as a rule!”
“We really are grateful, Mrs Bridges,” Ally called through the dividing screen and tried to placate the bossy woman. “We know how busy you are.”
Mrs Bridges knelt by Hazel’s side. “Drop your knees to either side for me. Wider, now. That’s a good girl.” The woman held down one of Hazel’s legs and leant over her tummy. “Take a deep breath, lass. This won’t take long.”
Hazel was shocked by the woman’s intrusive fingers but stayed still until the examination was over.
Mrs Bridges then told Hazel she was about six to eight weeks pregnant. “You’ll have to wait four days before I can fit you in to get rid of this baby. There’s a waiting list, you know.”
She was given an address in Ossett and told to be there at noon on Wednesday.
She left the woman’s house with Ally, but her legs shook so badly she could hardly walk.
“Not too long to wait, eh?” Ally said as she walked her home. “Will you be able to get time off from your work at the café?”
“I’ll tell Cynthia I don’t feel well and I’ll pretend I’m going home.”
“Will your boss suspect anything?”
Hazel shook her head. She didn’t think Cynthia would ask any awkward questions. She couldn’t believe what she was getting herself into. Abortion was a subject that wasn’t spoken about in polite society, and now she was considering breaking the law by having one. A few months ago she had been as innocent as a newborn lamb. She’d talked about lads with Eunice, but never dreamed she
would soon have a sweetheart. It seemed like only yesterday she’d never been kissed, didn’t know a thing about love, sex, marriage or babies, and now she was mixing with people like Ally and Mrs Bridges.
Ally was having an affair with a married man, and Mrs Bridges was an abortionist.
Hazel knew nothing about the back-street procedure except that it was against the law. She read in the newspaper that some women were petitioning parliament to make abortion legal, but for the time being, if a woman was young and healthy, and sound of mind; abortion was not an available option whether she was married or single.
“You’re doing the right thing, you know.” Ally took her arm. “A baby would ruin your life, wouldn’t it?”
Hazel hadn’t taken the time to consider how a baby might influence her life. She knew she didn’t want to trap Glenn into marriage. He would hate her for doing that to him. She couldn’t risk breaking up with him. She loved Glenn and didn’t want to lose him. Did she want to lose the baby? That was the big question she hadn’t dared to ask herself yet.
“You made quite an impression on Mrs Wilson at the fashion event.” Ally was talking, but Hazel was only half-listening to the young woman. “You could take your modelling career further and who knows where you might be this time next year? I have some news that might interest you…” Ally continued talking, but Hazel was too involved in her own thoughts to take much notice of what her friend was saying.
Did she want to be a model? Mrs Wilson seemed to think she had the knack for it. Could she see herself on a glamorous catwalk in London or Paris? She huffed. “It’s a pipe dream, Ally. The big fashion houses won’t employ a girl like me to model their clothes,” she blurted.
“What do you mean? Girls like you would be as good as any other girl they could find!”
“I wouldn’t fit in.” Hazel sighed deeply. “Not even you, with your nice house and fancy background would stand a chance against the ones who can talk posh.” She lifted her head to look at Ally. The young woman had skin like a bone-china doll, and her short, baby-blonde hair was sleek and glossy, but there was a hardness about her eyes. She was beautiful, but she seemed brittle.
Happiness for Hazel Page 16