by Nancy Revell
It only took ten minutes to get to the Royal thanks to her grandfather’s chauffeur and car, which she’d commandeered for the day.
Reaching Polly’s room, she realised it was the same one she had been put in after her miscarriage. She forced herself to breathe normally and push away thoughts of that godforsaken day.
She knocked tentatively on the door.
‘Come in.’
Helen opened the door just enough to poke her head through.
‘You up for visitors?’ she asked.
Polly pushed herself up in the bed.
‘Come in, come in!’ She waved her in and patted the chair next to her bed. ‘I’m so glad you’ve come.’
Helen thought Polly looked well. She had roses in her cheeks and a smile on her face. She went and sat down on the chair.
‘How’re you feeling?’
‘Well,’ Polly said, ‘very well.’
Helen saw that Polly was in the middle of writing a letter.
‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘Tommy?’
Polly nodded; tears started to wet her eyes.
‘Actually, I was just telling him about you – well, you and Dr Parker.’ She grabbed hold of Helen’s hand. ‘I was saying I didn’t know how I was going to be able to thank you both for saving our baby’s life.’
A tear slowly made its way down Polly’s cheek.
‘Still don’t know.’
Helen desperately fought her own emotions. Being in the same room, seeing Polly in the same bed, had knocked her for six.
‘You can thank me by making sure you look after yourself and that baby.’ Helen looked down at Polly’s slightly pronounced stomach.
‘Oh, I fully intend to,’ Polly said, her voice thick with tears. ‘I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if I’d lost this baby.’
‘Not that it would have been your fault if you had,’ Helen said, thinking of her own miscarriage. John had reassured her she was not to blame, although no one seemed to know why she’d lost her baby.
‘That’s what Dr Billingham told me,’ Polly said, putting her letter to Tommy to the side and shuffling around so that she was facing Helen.
‘I want you to know,’ Polly said, looking at Helen, eyes sparkling with a mix of tears and gratitude, ‘I will never forget what you and Dr Parker did for me. Never. And I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you enough … And I know Tommy would want to thank you as well. This baby means the world to him. Especially now Arthur’s gone.’
Helen nodded. Now the old man had died, Polly and their baby were his only family.
Polly sat back and sighed. Her face suddenly became sad.
‘You know, I made a promise to Tommy that I’d carry on and live life to the fullest if he didn’t make it back.’
She closed her eyes for a second and turned away.
‘And I hate to admit this,’ she opened her eyes again and looked at Helen, ‘but there is a part of me that’s accepted there’s a good chance I won’t ever see him again.’
Helen squeezed Polly’s hand. Tears were pricking her own eyes.
‘I knew I could keep that promise I made to him if I had a part of him with me.’ She put her hand on her stomach and looked down. ‘But if I’d lost this baby, and lost Tommy too, I really don’t know if I could have.’
Helen put her other hand on top of Polly’s and swallowed back her own emotions.
‘Well, that’s something that isn’t going to happen,’ she said, her voice strong and determined. ‘What happens to Tommy is out of our hands, but we’re going to do everything possible to make sure that this baby survives – and that it arrives in this world healthy and bawling its little lungs out.’
Chapter Forty-One
Two days later Helen called Rosie in to tell her that she had managed to get Polly a temporary position as the yard’s timekeeper. It meant she could sit down whenever she wanted or needed to, and Alfie had been more than happy to head over to admin. He had been pestering the accounts manager for a while to be considered for any vacancies that might come up, and was taking to his new job like a fish to water.
Polly’s move went some way to appeasing Agnes, but she still wasn’t exactly over the moon. She had the sense, though, to realise that Polly was not prepared to be wrapped in cotton wool and would go stir-crazy if she had to stay at home – much as this would have been Agnes’s preferred option.
Mother and daughter did agree on one thing, however, and that was telling Tommy what had happened, although their reasons for doing so were different.
Polly wanted her husband to know everything about their baby, even if Tommy was thousands of miles away. She had thought about Dr Billingham’s words that the baby had been ‘very, very lucky’, and she wanted Tommy to know that their child was special and strong – a real survivor.
Agnes’s thinking was more down to earth and practical. She wanted Tommy to know what had happened – how close Polly had been to losing their baby. She wanted him to know that nothing was certain and this pregnancy might not be all smooth sailing.
Polly had asked Bel to type a thank-you letter to Mr Havelock for the kind use of his car and chauffeur, and for paying the medical bills, but Bel kept forgetting – or putting it off. Polly couldn’t decide which. When Polly reminded Bel – yet again – about the letter, she was taken aback when Pearl stuck her oar in, saying that the likes of the Havelocks didn’t care about thank-you letters, and that from what she’d heard, it had been Helen who had organised everything – not the ‘auld man’.
Every week Polly got the tram to the Royal to see Dr Billingham during her lunch break, then had a cuppa with Helen in her office afterwards.
Helen had been surprised that Polly genuinely liked Dr Billingham, and it was clear Dr Billingham had a soft spot for Polly, who, he’d said, reminded him of his own daughter presently serving in the Wrens.
Polly never asked how Helen knew Dr Billingham and Helen never volunteered an explanation.
She might have presumed that it was simply because of Helen’s friendship with Dr Parker, but suspected there was more to it. When she was being prepped for theatre, she had overheard Dr Billingham asking Dr Parker how Helen was ‘doing’, and as the sedative had started to kick in, she was sure she’d heard Dr Billingham saying something about ‘losing the baby’.
Polly remembered last year, when Helen had been rushed to hospital with a ruptured appendix and had been off work for a week recovering. Could that have been a cover story? Had Helen really been pregnant? She remembered Dorothy and Angie saying that Helen looked like she was putting on weight, and how she had then gone through a spell of looking rough. Throughout it all, Gloria had risen to Helen’s defence.
Was that why? Because Gloria knew what Helen was really going through, but couldn’t tell them all?
Was that why Helen had been so determined to save her baby – because she had lost her own?
Of course, Polly would never talk about her suspicions to anyone. She owed Helen her loyalty at the very least.
She had asked Helen about the costs, but her words had been shooed away with the wave of a hand. Helen had reminded her of Polly’s own generosity in giving away her wedding money – Tommy’s gratuity pay – to charity, adding that it was Mr Havelock’s way of helping the wives left behind by the town’s menfolk. ‘It’s the very least he can do,’ Helen said.
Polly heard a hardness in Helen’s tone, which puzzled her. She’d thought Helen and her grandfather were close.
The sound of church bells could now be heard summoning the townsfolk to church as the government had decided that the ban on bell-ringing could be lifted from Easter Sunday. The preaching on faith and hope was a message the whole country needed to hear.
Easter, however, had to be enjoyed without chocolate – or even paste eggs – although the Regal pushed the boat out and made a display of giant eggs and put day-old chicks in a glass case for the town’s children. Gloria took Hope and was surprised when Dorothy a
nd Toby, who had been given a twenty-four-hour pass, turned up and took them for a special tea at Meng’s afterwards. Gloria thought they made a good match.
Hannah and Rina prayed that the tide might be turning when it came to what was being referred to as the ‘plight of the Jews’. The situation was being discussed by Allied governments in Bermuda. Meanwhile, on the eve of Passover, the Warsaw ghetto uprising began in earnest, with the Jewish community resisting German attempts at deportation. And in occupied Belgium, partisans attacked a railway convoy transporting Jews to Auschwitz. Over two hundred Jews were reported to have escaped from what was being labelled a ‘Holocaust train’.
On Easter Monday the whole country celebrated the significant victory in Tunisia with the taking of Longstop Hill – a key position on the breakout road to Tunis. It followed the release of the Ministry of Information film Desert Victory, a documentary feature about the campaign in North Africa, which Joe and Bel went to see on a rare date together.
Easter meant school holidays, which in turn meant that Rosie had to work out how to keep Charlotte occupied – no mean feat. The problem was solved by Charlotte working part-time at Thompson’s in the administrative department and taking over their ‘current-affairs classes’ in the canteen at lunchtime.
Rosie was particularly happy that not only was Charlotte being kept busy and out of mischief, but she was also getting to know the women who had saved them both from their uncle, for there had never been any doubt in her mind that if they hadn’t come to her aid that day, her own life would have ended and Charlotte’s would have been ruined.
Helen, meanwhile, decided to put her decision to live a life of no regrets on hold, arguing that doing what she had intended to do with John the evening of Polly’s near miscarriage might have ended up being a huge mistake. She had a habit of plunging into life – and more so, love – head first, only to resurface and find herself surrounded by chaos.
She needed more time.
Besides, there was no rush, anyway, was there?
Instead, she resolved to simply continue the way they were.
When Gloria asked if she was going to try for a rerun of her ‘date’ with Dr Parker at Mrs Hoggart’s café, Helen shook her head and told her, ‘Not at the moment.’
Gloria didn’t say anything, but Helen knew that she wasn’t fooling the woman who had been more of a mother to her in the past year than her real mum had. What had happened to Polly had affected Helen more than she liked to let on. The wound, which she’d hoped had healed, had reopened. On top of which, her mother’s words about being sullied and tarnished goods kept poking their way back into her consciousness.
Helen finally found the opportunity to take some time off to go and visit her father in Scotland, after which she went to spend a few days with her aunty Margaret and uncle Angus. When she’d told them about what had happened to Polly, her aunty had talked openly for the first time about her many miscarriages. It was only then that it occurred to Helen that her own inability to carry a child full term might well be a family problem.
Typically, it was while she was away that the King and Queen decided to pay a visit to the town and it was Thompson’s they decided to visit – along with Laing’s further up the river. They arrived at the station in the Royal Train and stayed for two and a half hours. Helen knew all of this because her mother rang her sister while Helen was there to relay every minute detail. She told Margaret to tell Helen she had saved the Sunderland Echo, so she could read all about it herself and see all the ‘fabulous’ photographs of the royal couple.
By the time Helen returned home, the furore over the visit had just about died down, but Helen could feel the shift in tempo and see the lift in the workers’ spirits. King George and his queen had succeeded in doing what they had gone there to do – raise morale.
On her return, Helen had been hoping to have another meeting with Georgina for an update, but the investigation into Bel’s parentage had to be put on hold for a few weeks as Georgina’s father had been unwell.
Now more than ever, Helen was convinced that Bel was a Havelock. Since Bel had perfected her shorthand skills, she was in Helen’s office at least once a day, having letters dictated to her, or taking notes to be typed up into reports. Helen had noticed certain mannerisms that were identical to her mother’s – the way she moved her hands when talking, and the way she walked … It was quite uncanny, especially as Bel and Miriam had barely ever spoken more than a few words to one another.
Throughout April the town’s yards celebrated more launches – Laing’s sent the Empire Inventor down the ways, Short Brothers the Empire Manor, Doxford’s Trevelyan, Bartram’s the Empire Rock, Austin’s the Empire Judy and Thompson’s Denewood.
Work was busy, but Helen made time to do something she had vowed to do on the evening she had clambered into the St John’s ambulance.
She learnt to drive.
Chapter Forty-Two
Holme Café, Holmeside, Sunderland
Saturday 1 May
Georgina watched as Rosie said something to a young girl she presumed was her younger sister.
The girl rolled her eyes theatrically before disappearing into the boutique next door.
Sighing heavily, Rosie turned and walked the few yards to the café.
Georgina thought Rosie looked a little run ragged, but not unhappy.
‘At last, we’ve finally found the time!’ Rosie declared as she sat down at the little table Georgina had commandeered for them five minutes earlier.
Georgina laughed. ‘I can’t believe it’s taken us so long to find the time to snatch a quick cuppa.’ She tried not to show that she was a little nervous. She’d never been very good at socialising. It was probably why she didn’t have many friends.
‘I know,’ Rosie said. ‘There never seems to be a spare minute in the day, does there?’
She looked over at the waitress to show her that they were ready to order.
‘I’m so sorry I’ve had to cancel – twice – you must think I’m incredibly rude,’ Rosie said, returning her attention to Georgina.
‘No, don’t be daft. Of course I don’t. I know you’re working more or less round the clock.’ Georgina could have kicked herself. Rosie had not told her about her evening job. ‘I mean,’ she added quickly, ‘at the yard, with all the overtime everyone’s having to do.’
Rosie thought Georgina seemed a little flustered.
‘There’s that, but I’ve also got an evening job,’ Rosie said.
She was suddenly aware of the waitress hovering over her shoulder. ‘I’ll have a cup of tea, please.’
‘And I’ll have a coffee, please. Black, no milk,’ Georgina said.
Rosie smiled. She knew it was what her mam used to drink.
‘Anything to eat?’ the waitress asked.
They shook their heads and the skinny blonde girl hurried off.
‘So, you’ve got another job?’ Georgina said, trying her hardest to sound genuinely ignorant when nothing could be further from the truth.
‘Yes, I do the bookkeeping for a woman in Ashbrooke,’ Rosie said. Since Charlotte had burst back into her life, she’d realised she needed to be open – or at least relatively so – about her life and in particular her work at Lily’s. It would seem odd – suspicious, even – if she didn’t mention her evening job and further down the line Georgina was to find out.
‘That’s interesting.’ Georgina was surprised by Rosie’s honesty. ‘A bit different to welding?’
‘I know,’ Rosie said. ‘But at least it means I’m not on my feet all day and all night.’
Georgina felt herself blush. She certainly wouldn’t be. Not doing the kind of work she knew was being carried out at the place called Lily’s.
The waitress came over with a tray. They waited until she transferred their drinks onto the table and left.
‘And what is it you do?’ Rosie asked. ‘Mam said you were a – what were her exact words? – a “right bright bairn”. I rem
ember her saying you always had your head in a book whenever she called round.’
Georgina blushed at the compliment.
‘Well, funnily enough, I also do bookkeeping, accounts – that kind of thing.’ God, she hated lying. But she couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, could she?
‘Is that why Helen had you in for an interview?’ Rosie asked.
‘Sort of,’ Georgina stalled, recalling what she and Helen had agreed to tell Rosie. ‘I’m helping with the annual audit and can work faster and more efficiently at home.’
‘I suppose it also means you can be there for your dad. You said he had bad arthritis?’
Georgina nodded. ‘He has his good days and his bad days.’ She took a sip of her coffee. ‘Was that your sister I saw you with just now – the young girl going into the boutique next door?’
‘Yes,’ Rosie sighed, ‘and she’s the other reason I’ve barely got a minute to spare these days.’
‘She certainly looks full of life,’ Georgina said with a smile.
‘That’s one way of putting it!’ Rosie laughed.
‘Just like your mam,’ Georgina said.
Rosie laughed again.
‘I wonder what our mams would say if they could see us now?’ Georgina said.
‘They’re probably up there now. Your mam drinking her black coffee and mine her milky tea,’ said Rosie.
Georgina thought they would have plenty to talk about – although she knew for certain that her own mother would not be happy with her daughter. Nor with the fact that just about every word she had spoken so far had been a lie. Honesty had been the virtue her mother had tried her hardest to instil in her. Georgina did so want to have a friend with whom she could be truthful. But she was kidding herself, wasn’t she? She was setting herself up for a fall. If Rosie found out that not only was she a private investigator, but the person who had dug up all the dirt on her women welders, she’d hate her.
Georgina mightn’t know how Mrs Crawford had used the information she had given her, but she was pretty sure her reasons had been far from altruistic.