Telegrams and Teacakes: A heartbreaking World War Two family saga, page 12
Betty’s eyes were huge as her eyes ran over the three children’s dear little faces. The blood drained from her face and Audrey worried that she might faint.
‘We?’ Betty said, utterly bewildered. ‘Robert, are these your children?’
Audrey watched Betty’s eyes fill with tears. There was no denying that Robert’s children were adorable little things, all with huge, searching eyes, rosebud lips and wavy dark hair. They didn’t seem to know what was happening and the boy hid his head in the overcoats hanging by the door. Then the middle one, another girl, started to whimper. Audrey knelt down to soothe her.
‘What is it, petal?’ Audrey asked. ‘Don’t cry.’
‘I’m hungry,’ the smallest girl said in a tiny voice. ‘My tummy hurts.’
Robert faced Audrey, shame casting a shadow across his features, and mumbled something about it being a long time since they’d stopped for toast for breakfast in a café.
‘Well, if it’s all right with your father, you little ones can come with me,’ said Audrey. ‘I’ve some teacakes need toasting and some Fry’s cocoa needs drinking.’
The girl in Audrey’s arms dropped the door keys and the boy peered out from behind the coats.
‘Come on,’ Audrey said gently. ‘There’s nothing to be frightened of.’
‘But…’ said Betty, anxiously looking at Audrey, her eyes darting. ‘What about Sam?’
‘Who’s Sam?’ asked Robert.
Audrey bit her lip as another pair of footsteps descended the stairs and Sam appeared, handsome and wholesome in contrast to Robert.
‘I’m Sam,’ he said, smiling uncertainly. ‘Who’s asking?’
‘I’m Robert, Betty’s husband,’ Robert said gruffly. ‘Who the hell are you?’
‘Husband?’ Sam asked, jerking his head towards Betty questioningly. When Betty dropped her eyes in shame and embarrassment, he was taken aback.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure what’s going on here but I think I should be on my way. Thank you, Mrs Barton, for the delicious dinner. Betty, thank you for asking me along. Good night, all.’
‘But Sam,’ said Audrey, repositioning the child on her hip because the muscles in her lower back were beginning to burn with pain. ‘There’s no need to take flight, I’m sure Betty will explain what’s…’
With panicked eyes, Audrey looked from Betty to Sam, willing Betty to step forward and say something, anything, but Betty seemed to be frozen to the spot and unable to offer any explanation. With Robert glaring furiously at her, it was all too much for the young girl, Audrey could see that.
‘Well, perhaps you could visit again another day,’ said Audrey, showing him out of the door. ‘You’re always welcome here. Always. Thank you for the roses…’
Sam couldn’t leave fast enough, and once she’d closed the door behind him, Audrey sighed, silently reprimanding herself for letting this situation get out of hand. Having Sam to dinner had been her idea. Betty had been reluctant to invite him but Audrey had forged ahead, thinking she was doing the kind-hearted thing.
‘Maybe you’d like to explain who the hell Sam is,’ said Robert roughly.
‘That’s rich coming from you, Robert Mitchell!’ said Betty, suddenly finding her voice.
‘I should think you’re the rich one, more like,’ he spat. ‘Since you’ve taken my life savings with you!’
‘What did you expect me to do?’ snapped Betty. ‘Survive on thin air? You never let me keep a penny of what I earned!’
‘That ain’t true!’ he said. ‘I kept all our money in one place.’
‘You probably spent it on Doris,’ said Betty. ‘Didn’t you?’
The mention of Doris’s name made the little boy burst into tears. Audrey held on to his hand as he wept into her apron.
‘For goodness’ sake,’ Audrey snapped. ‘Put your troubles aside for a moment and consider these three little souls. These kiddies need a good feed and a warm bath. You two can sort yourselves out like grown-ups, while I get these three a toasted teacake and a warm drink.’
Carrying in her arms the smallest, sleepiest child, who had now rested the side of her head against Audrey’s shoulder and was sucking her thumb, Audrey led the children upstairs to the warm kitchen and closed the door behind her, giving Robert and Betty time to be alone.
* * *
Betty felt shame rinse through her as she watched Audrey lead Robert’s three children upstairs and disappear into the warmth of the kitchen where, up until five minutes ago, she had been glowing with happiness. It was her own fault that the evening had been ruined. If she’d told Robert clearly that she didn’t want to see him again, then he wouldn’t have been here now. If she’d explained the truth to Sam, he wouldn’t have been here either. Instead, she’d not been brave enough with either man, which made her just as spineless as Robert, didn’t it? It was all her fault. Plonking herself down to perch on the edge of the second stair, on threadbare red carpet, she leaned forward onto her knees and rested her chin in her hand, sighing.
‘Do you want to come for a walk?’ Robert asked softly, fetching her coat from the hallstand and holding it out towards her. ‘So we can talk about this in private?’
Betty shook her head and stared at the hardwood floor for a moment.
‘You can say what you want to say here,’ she said. ‘Besides, you can’t just leave your children upstairs in a house where they don’t know a soul!’
He leaned against the wall, which was covered in bold floral wallpaper and trimmed with a matching border. For a moment, he seemed defeated, her coat slipping out of his hand and onto the floor.
‘I didn’t expect you to be carrying on with a Canadian soldier,’ he said, ‘that’s for sure.’
‘I wasn’t “carrying on” with him,’ Betty said. ‘He’s a friend. I stay near him and pass the time of day with him, that’s all.’
Her cheeks warmed at her lie. In truth, she’d been quite taken with Sam and looked forward to seeing him every morning and evening, but Robert didn’t need to know that.
‘Did you tell him you were married?’ Robert said.
‘No,’ she said. ‘How could I? You were married to someone else, until she was killed. I loved you, Robert, with my whole heart, and what we went through in Bristol, being bombed out and seeing our friends’ and neighbours’ lives destroyed, I thought nothing else could shock me. But when I found out you’d been leading a double life, I questioned everything. Our whole marriage was a sham! I wondered what I’d done wrong, how I could have been a better wife and what I should have done differently to keep you to myself. Then I started to think, it’s not me who’s in the wrong, it’s you! You’ve lied to me for years. You’ve told me that we shouldn’t have kids, while all the time having your own family round the corner. I can’t just forget all that and come back as if nothing has happened.’
Betty was desperate to cry, the weeks of heartbreak and disappointment catching up with her, but, aware that she was in Audrey’s hallway while the bakery family were in the kitchen upstairs, probably listening in, she tried her hardest to hold in her tears.
‘Why are you here, Robert?’ she said quietly. ‘Can’t you just let me get on with my life?’
Robert was silent for a moment while he stared at his shoes, and then, without lifting his eyes from the floor, he mumbled his reply.
‘Doris’s sister said she can’t keep the kiddies,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with them. Might have to send them to the Waifs and Strays Society.’
Betty stood up and stared at Robert in astonishment.
‘You’d really do that?’ she said. ‘Just get rid of them? Your own flesh and blood?’
‘If you don’t come home, Betty love,’ he said, his voice deadly serious, ‘I might be left with no bleedin’ choice.’
* * *
‘Look who I have here,’ said Audrey to William, Lily, Mary, Joy and John, who had cleared away the plates and were sitting at the table, waiting to hear what was going on. ‘Three little ones in need of some food and drink. I’ve just learned their names. This is Dora, Vera and Cyril.’
Audrey was desperate for the three children not to hear Robert and Betty’s raised voices. If they’d recently lost Doris, their mother, how confused and frightened must the little mites be feeling already? They had no idea who Betty was. As if reading her thoughts, Mary jumped down from her chair and ran to greet the children, hugging each of them in turn. From downstairs, Audrey heard a door slam shut. She smiled reassuringly at Dora, who, despite being just a baby, was obviously aware of the tension in the air; she was clinging to the strap of Audrey’s apron.
‘That’s kind, Mary,’ Audrey said. ‘Would you like to show Cyril your jigsaw? How old are you, Cyril?’
‘Nearly six,’ he said.
‘So grown up!’ Audrey said. ‘William, perhaps you could hold Vera for a moment and I’ll carry on holding little Dora, since she’s attached herself to my apron! Lily, would you toast some teacakes for the children and I’ll put some cocoa on.’
Audrey lifted Vera up onto William’s knee and was delighted to see, despite the surreal turn of events, a grin break over his face when the child grabbed hold of his thumbs and giggled.
‘She likes you,’ said Mary, mesmerised by the younger children. Audrey was about to tell Mary what a good older sister she was going to be when the babies were born, when she was interrupted by Betty throwing open the kitchen door. As she rushed towards a seat and flung herself down, she was as white as flour.
‘What is it?’ said Audrey. ‘What have you done with Robert?’
‘He’s gone off!’ she said. ‘He stomped off into the night in a rage.’
‘How could he?’ said Lily, running over to the window, throwing it open and peering outside. ‘What right has he got to leave his kids abandoned in a stranger’s h—’
Audrey touched Lily gently on the back to get her attention and said ‘Shhh,’ sliding her eyes towards Cyril, whose bottom lip was wobbling. ‘He’ll be back, Cyril. I expect his thoughts are a bit muddled just now. As I understand it, you’ve all had a lot to adjust to in recent months. Everyone needs a bit of time. He knows you three are safe here with us. Why don’t we get the fire going, see if I can’t find a story while we’re waiting for Dad? How does that sound?’
‘I’ve got some blankets,’ said Mary. She dashed out the room and returned carrying blankets from the beds. ‘If anyone is cold, they can wrap up in these.’
Audrey eyed Betty, willing her to be as positive and upbeat as the rest of them were trying to be, but she was staring out of the window, looking totally forlorn.
‘Betty!’ Audrey snapped. ‘Why don’t you come and sit by the fire? You can have this Johnnie Walker that poor Sam never got round to drinking to bolster you.’
‘Oh no, thank you,’ said Betty. ‘I should keep a clear head. I’ll help with the little ones – after all, they’re here because of me.’
‘They’re no burden,’ said Audrey, smiling as William held on to Vera’s little hands and rocked his knees up and down to gently bump her as if on horseback. ‘They’re lovely little things. Shall I pour this back in the bottle then? Can’t be wasting the stuff.’
‘Give it here,’ said John, taking the glass and drinking it down in one. ‘After this evening’s comings and goings, I won’t say no to another one neither.’
Chapter Sixteen
Robert didn’t come back that night. When it had got so late that the blackout blinds were pulled down, the firewatchers were out on duty and the Mitchell children’s eyes couldn’t keep from closing, Audrey made up beds for the three of them in with Mary and Joy, with any spare sheets and hessian flour sacks she could lay her hands on. Although they were so tired, they probably could have slept standing.
Audrey then gave Lily and Betty her bedroom to share and, despite their protests, made up a bed for herself in the living room, while William and John went back into the bakehouse to knock back and prove the dough. Before climbing into her makeshift bed, Audrey rubbed some camomile lotion into her sun-kissed cheeks and rested her hand on her bump to feel the reassuring movement of the babies kicking.
‘I’ve barely had time to think today,’ she whispered, imagining that the twins were listening. Not that she spoke to them out loud every day, of course, but occasionally she would comment on what was happening around them, imagining that she was preparing them for what their life might be like once they were born. Born. Gosh, was it really just a matter of weeks until they arrived? Audrey’s heart burned with excitement – and also trepidation. Looking after those dear little Mitchell children made her realise once again the importance of protecting the innocence of children as much as you possibly could. She would be the best mother she could, but it would be a whole lot easier if Charlie was here.
‘Oh Charlie,’ she muttered before finally turning onto her side to sleep. It was the early hours. ‘I wish you were here with me.’
Her thoughts drifted to Betty and the three little children upstairs. She hoped that they would wake up refreshed and that the clanking of the bakery tins at dawn wouldn’t disturb them.
Just as she was finally feeling her body relax and the soft, inviting arms of sleep envelop her, the horrible, haunting wail of the siren burst into the room. She woke with a jolt. Unable to sit immediately upright any more, she turned onto her side and pushed herself up to sitting, feeling the skin on her tummy straining over her bump as she moved.
‘Gracious me,’ grumbled Audrey, her eyes aching as she blinked in the darkness. ‘I must have been asleep for all of a second! Must get those little ones up and out to safety.’
Standing in her long nightdress, disorientated and feeling nauseous with tiredness, she knew she must act quickly. There were five small children in the house and they all needed to get to the safety of the shelter as soon as possible. Yanking on her dressing gown, which barely stretched around her these days, and grabbing her gas mask case, she lit an oil lamp and moved into the hallway, where she met Betty, Lily, Mary, Joy and the Mitchell children, wrapped in blankets, tripping over one another in the darkness.
‘I’m just in from work,’ Elsie said from behind them, still in her clippie outfit. ‘Who are all these children? Are they evacuees?’
‘In a way,’ said Audrey. ‘I’ll explain. Let’s get down to the shelter. Is William in the bakehouse with John?’
Elsie nodded, and Audrey picked up Dora and helped steer the other children out into the backyard and dive into the Anderson shelter for the several hundredth time since the war started.
‘Come on, children,’ she said, hurrying them in. ‘It’ll be a squash, but at least we’ll be warm, like little birds in a nest.’
A feeling of dread settled into her heart as she realised it was the early hours of Whit Monday and remembered how, during the Whitsun holiday the previous year, Bournemouth had taken a beating from the Luftwaffe. The date had been deliberately chosen to wreak havoc on the town when people would be visiting for their holiday, or at least a breath of sea air. Before slamming shut the door, to block out the terrifying threat of enemy attack, Audrey noticed flares in the sky above the town, briefly lighting up the skyline and German pilots’ targets, leaving many people with nowhere to hide. Once inside the shelter, they all stared at each other in desolation as the sound of aircraft and machine guns roared overhead. Audrey’s head hummed with worries. Not only did she have all these kiddies to take care of, she needed to get back into the bakehouse before dawn to prepare the counter goods, so that they were ready for 7 a.m. deliveries. She willed the All Clear siren to sound, flinching at the explosions in the near distance. She shuddered, gripping her bump with her hand. What if an incendiary bomb hit the bakery again, as had happened last year? No point in thinking about the ‘what ifs’, she told herself firmly.
Maybe it was a case of ‘wartime’ tummy, associated with bad nerves, but a pain ripped through her and she closed her eyes, clenching her teeth to avoid crying out and alerting the others. When the pain subsided, she opened her eyes and wondered if she had any of that stomach powder left that the chemist had given her when she’d described the heartburn and acidity trouble she had. She remembered the logo on the side of the box. Funny what went through your mind in the shelter, when you were exhausted.
‘Where’s Daddy, Miss?’ Cyril asked, interrupting her random thoughts, his enormous eyes shining with fear.
‘He’s probably in another shelter,’ said Mary, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it in hers.
‘Yes, she’s probably right,’ said Audrey, her heart swelling with pride for Mary. ‘There’s plenty of public shelters in Bournemouth. He will have dived into one of those, I’ll bet.’
She hoped she was right and that Robert was safe. Whispering a silent prayer for Robert and Pat and all their family, friends and neighbours, she racked her brain for ways to lift everyone’s spirits a little.
‘Why don’t we sing?’ she said to Elsie and Lily. ‘Something to get the little ones back off to sleep?’
‘“You Are My Sunshine”,’ said Elsie. ‘Jimmie Davis.’
Audrey nodded, noticing how worn Elsie seemed and vowing that she’d find a way to cheer her up tomorrow. Stroking Dora’s hair as her eyes began closing, Audrey counted the girls in, one, two, three:
‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,’ sang Audrey, Lily, Betty and Elsie, their voices sweetly soft yet unshakeably strong, a unified sound of defiant hope and love against the backdrop of wartime death and destruction.
* * *
When the All Clear sounded just after dawn, the townspeople emerged, sleep-deprived and shivering, from their shelters. Rumour had it that the raids by the Luftwaffe on some areas in the town, including the beloved Upper Pleasure Gardens and along the coast, had been intense and severe. Old Reg had been first with the news, filling Audrey in over the garden fence.
