Telegrams and Teacakes: A heartbreaking World War Two family saga, page 14
Betty walked back to the bakery with three sun-kissed, happy children, their faces orange from their toffee-coated carrots on sticks, their socks and pockets filled with sand. Half-expecting Robert to be waiting at the bakery, ready to go barmy at her for taking the children off, she tentatively stepped inside and eyed Lily.
‘Has Robert been back?’ she asked. ‘We got a bit carried away in the sand and spotting sand lizards, didn’t we, Cyril? He wants to take a jam jar next time to catch one and keep it as his pet.’
Betty ruffled Cyril’s hair and the boy looked up at her and smiled. He seemed like a different boy to the one who had arrived with fear and confusion in his eyes only yesterday. This war had prematurely ended many a childhood, but a trip to the seaside had done Cyril no end of good.
‘No sign of Robert,’ said Lily, breaking out into a smile and pointing to the ceiling. ‘But listen, can you hear that noise? The babies have been born! Elsie just dashed down to announce their arrival. One girl and one boy.’
‘Oh, that’s lovely,’ said Betty. ‘Twins! Has she named them yet?’
‘Not that I know of,’ said Lily. ‘I’d love to go up and see them. Are you willing to watch the shop for a few minutes? Then you can go up too. I’m sure these three would like to see newborn twins?’
‘She probably won’t want all of us hanging around,’ said Betty, suddenly stricken with panic about what she was going to do with the children now that the babies had been born. ‘If Robert doesn’t come back, I’ll have to take them back to my digs.’
Lily pulled a worried face and popped upstairs to see the babies, leaving Betty alone in the shop. But she wasn’t alone for long.
‘Is it true?’ said Flo, popping her head in through the shop door. ‘Has she had twins?’
‘Has it happened?’ said John, walking in from the bakehouse. Betty nodded and John beamed, wiped his eyes with his hanky and clapped his hands together.
‘A boy and a girl,’ said Cyril, delighted to be imparting important news. Flo exclaimed with joy. John shook his head, mumbling something about ‘double trouble’.
‘What’s this?’ said Elizabeth, her head appearing beside Flo’s. ‘Has Audrey had the babies? Is she well?’
‘She’d had them!’ said Flo, nodding. ‘A boy and a girl. Ain’t that just the best news?’
‘I must go and knock round a few of the neighbours,’ said Flo. ‘They’ll all want to know the good news and we’ve all got bits to bring. Second-hand odds and ends, but they’ll come in useful.’
‘Did you want any bre…?’ asked Betty, but the women had gone before she finished her sentence. She found herself smiling nonetheless – the joyful news of Audrey’s twins being born was infecting everyone. When Lily came back down, she popped upstairs with Cyril, Vera and Dora to meet the twins and say congratulations.
‘Come in, loveys,’ said Audrey, already seemingly back to her normal self. ‘Come and meet the twins. I haven’t named them yet.’
The only hints that she’d just given birth were a few hairs out of place, pink cheeks and the babies themselves. Cyril went right up close to the twins and gently put his finger in one of the babies’ hands.
‘Cyril,’ said Betty, wondering if he should be doing that, but Audrey winked at her and smiled, as if to say it was all okay.
‘Are they real?’ said Vera from beside the bed. Audrey and Betty laughed.
‘Course they’re real,’ said Betty, still laughing. ‘They’ve just been born. They were safe and warm in Audrey’s tummy and now they’re out here.’
‘Safe and warm in the bakery?’ said Cyril, his big eyes on Betty.
‘Yes,’ said Betty, her heart going out to Cyril and his sisters. They were sweet kiddies, she’d give Robert that much.
After a few moments, Betty gathered up the children and told Audrey she would be taking them back to her digs at the Lansdowne, since there was no sign of Robert. She also wanted to find Sam to try to explain what was going on. ‘We don’t want to be under your feet,’ said Betty. ‘You’re busy enough now! Thanks for letting all of us stay last night.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort,’ Audrey said. ‘I’m going to put a pot of stew on in a minute. We’ll shuffle around a bit and then you can all stay here until you find out what’s going to happen. I’m sure Robert will come back soon. He probably just needs some time to sort himself out, and while he’s doing that, we can take care of you three little dots between us. Food might be a bit simple, but I’ll do the best I can with the vegetables from the allotment and we’ll never be short of bread. We can all pull together a bit, help each other out. How does that sound?’
Betty beamed from ear to ear, hitched Dora up onto her hip and pulled Cyril and Vera against her skirt. Cyril looked up at her expectantly. She smiled down at him, warmth swelling her heart.
‘That sounds wonderful,’ she said. ‘If you’re sure it’s not too much. Thank you, Audrey. There’s not many in this world with a heart as good as yours.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Audrey. ‘Anybody would do the same. What are we here for, if not to help each other out a bit? That’s what I want these two to grow up thinking, anyhow.’
Outside, Elsie leaned her back against the bakehouse’s brick wall, crossed her arms across her chest, tilted her neck so that her head was resting on the wall and followed the flight of a seagull gliding through the sky. She sighed. Watching Audrey’s babies being born had temporarily emptied her mind of all the worries that loomed above her head like a dark cloud. She’d forgotten, for the briefest moment, about the heinous war, and her father stuck in a camp on the Isle of Man, and about darling William’s deep-rooted grief and guilt. She’d been caught up with the joy of two new lives coming into the world and was full of admiration for Audrey. All of the girls doing war work were brave as anything, there was no denying that, but women going through childbirth were also brave. Taking on the responsibility of bringing up children to be peaceful, loving and kind humans was so important. A part of her wanted to experience that – to have her own child – but she didn’t think William was ready. Should you really bring new lives into the world when the old lives were in such a mess?
‘You look like you’re away with the fairies!’ said William, entering the backyard through the open gate and hobbling on his crutches towards her. He held a letter in his hand.
‘Audrey’s had her twins, a girl and a boy,’ she told him. ‘Mum and babies all doing fine.’
‘I’m an uncle!’ William grinned. ‘Uncle William has quite a ring to it.’
He shook his head in amazement, sighed happily and leaned against the wall next to Elsie, leaning his crutch up against it beside him. He turned his head to face her and she turned to face him. Their noses were inches apart, their lips upturned into small smiles.
‘I know you wrote to David’s mother,’ he said quietly. ‘She’s written to me.’
‘William, I—’ she started, dread and panic filling her stomach.
‘It’s all right,’ he said gently. ‘She wrote in her letter that she thought David would have done the same thing as me, and let the German soldier go. She said she understood how wretched I felt, and that I was one of many men making decisions they should never have had to make. She apologised for threatening us with her gun, which she said wasn’t loaded. She said both you and Audrey had written and that I was lucky to have two women who stuck by me, no matter what.’
He laughed and looked down at the floor briefly before returning his gaze to her eyes and kissing her lightly on the lips.
‘I just wanted her to understand how you have been affected,’ said Elsie. ‘That part of you—’
‘—died with David?’ William finished.
Elsie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘In a way, yes,’ she said, swallowing hard.
He nodded and took her hand in his, turning his gaze to the seagulls swooping across the sky so freely. Together they watched the gulls in silence, their hands linked, united, the faint cry of newborn babies trying out their lungs emerging from the bakery, reminding everyone in the vicinity that this was no time to think about the past or contemplate the future. The twins wanted feeding and by the sound of it, they wanted feeding now. War or no war.
‘Shall we go inside?’ Elsie asked. ‘I’m sure the twins would like to meet you.’
‘Yes,’ said William, a spark in his eye. ‘Let me welcome them to the world, in all its complicated glory.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘What about syrup of figs?’ said Pat, frowning. ‘Or we used to tie a lump of coal round a baby’s neck with a piece of string. That might help?’
‘I’m not tying a lump of coal round his neck!’ said Audrey irritably. ‘I can’t see how that would help at all – and it might strangle him, for goodness’ sake!’
‘Oh,’ said Pat indignantly, busying herself with pegging out freshly washed baby booties on a short line erected above the kitchen range. ‘There’s no need to take that tone.’
The first three weeks of the twins’ life had passed in a frenzied blur of feeding, crying and napping. The bakery was bursting at the seams with baby paraphernalia passed on from customers; a pram carriage for twins, knitted pram sets, matinee coats, tiny shoes and the ugly but vital gas helmets for babies that were always on hand in case of gas attacks. And two of everything!
Since Betty and the children were still staying at the bakery, after Robert had failed to return, it was a squeeze. Audrey’s kitchen, where she was now sitting with Mary and the twins, was piled high with jobs that needed doing: bakery paperwork, washing, darning and Mary’s school dress covered with fruit stains that she needed to clean off with lemon juice and salt. The list of things to do was longer than she was tall. She stared crossly at her mother-in-law, who was dressed in her WVS uniform and who, whenever she called in, dispensed more unwanted advice to a bewildered Audrey. Knowing very well that she was only trying to help, Audrey sighed and smiled an apologetic smile.
‘Sorry to be so rude, Pat,’ she said with an exhausted sigh, gazing at the twins lying together in a Moses basket. ‘I’ve not slept for days, some of the customers are late to pay their bills so I can barely afford to pay anyone and I’m worried sick about Donald. He’s not thriving like his sister and this runny nose and cough is worrying me. What am I doing wrong? I thought this would come naturally to me, but it’s tough.’
‘You’re not doing anything wrong at all,’ said Pat. ‘He might have croup. I think you should get the doctor to take a look at him. He’s got a bit of a fever running. Try not to worry about the bakery. Everyone’s pulling together and it’s all going well enough. Just concentrate on the babies for now.’
Audrey ran her fingertips under her eyebrows as if propping open her eyes and sighed anxiously, before leaning back in her chair.
‘Thank you, Pat, you’re right. I’ll see how he goes,’ she said, ‘and if he doesn’t pick up, yes, I’ll take him to see the doctor. Poor little mite, it’s such a worry.’
‘No word from Charlie?’ asked Pat. Audrey shook her head. She’d written to tell him about Donald and Emily, but he hadn’t replied.
‘I’m sure you’ll hear from him again soon,’ Pat said. ‘Right, I better get going. I’m helping with this book chain and there’s a lot to do.’
‘Book chain?’ asked Mary. ‘What’s that?’
‘Anyone who has any spare books or magazines has donated them for the waste paper drive for the war effort,’ explained Pat. ‘There’s seven chains and each one will be started by the mayor himself and they’ll all lead towards the Town Hall. People are leaving their books outside their front gates, so I’m going around to help pick them up. Would you like to help? Audrey, can you spare Mary?’
‘Mmm?’ said Audrey, distractedly, frowning as Donald started to grizzle. ‘What was that?’ She picked Donald up and rocked him gently.
‘Can you spare Mary?’ Pat repeated. ‘I could do with some help.’
‘Yes,’ said Audrey, undoing Donald’s top and spotting a little pink rash on his chest. ‘Yes, of course I can.’
‘Good,’ said Pat, stretching her hand out to Mary. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t rain.’
Audrey didn’t notice Mary and Pat leave the kitchen. She was too busy worrying about Donald and the strange cough he had. Holding him in her arms while Emily slept, she walked him to the window, thinking that the sunlight might do him good, but the brightness just made him howl even more. Hearing the crying, Lily came into the kitchen, carrying Joy. In her hand she carried a letter.
‘Is he getting worse?’ Lily asked, and Audrey nodded. ‘Yes. I think I should get the doctor. I’m terribly worried about him. He doesn’t seem right. Could you look after Emily for me while I go to Reg’s and call the doctor?’
‘Of course,’ Lily said, pushing the letter into her pocket and biting her lip.
‘Did you want to talk to me about that letter?’ Audrey said. ‘Is it from Jacques?’
‘It can wait.’ Lily smiled. ‘Donald is much more important.’
Lily took a seat in the kitchen while Joy played with some wooden blocks on the floor and Emily slept in her basket. It was moments like these when she wondered how on earth she’d got here. Her life had taken an unexpected turn, two years ago, when she’d fallen pregnant by her old boss, Henry Bateman. At the time she’d been working at the Ministry of Information in London and feeling as though she was at the beginning of an exciting career. Now, she was a single mother of a toddler and living with her stepsister in Bournemouth. She enjoyed her job at the library helping refugees with their English, but she knew she could do something much more exciting, like join the WRNS or the WAAF or ATS, given half a chance. There was a drive in Bournemouth to get women to join the services and Lily had been to a WAAF display in the square. She’d been transfixed and had wanted to join there and then. The trouble was, though, what to do about childcare?
And now, today, a letter had arrived containing another unexpected turn. Jacques had written again – and this time, just as she had suspected, he had asked for Lily’s hand in marriage. Unfolding the letter and smoothing out the paper on the kitchen table, Lily read and reread his words. He said life was too short to procrastinate, that he had fallen in love with her when they first met and that he wanted her to be his wife, and for them to share their lives together.
Thoughts tumbled through Lily’s mind. Jacques didn’t know about Joy – she had yet to write and tell him. And even if he did accept Joy, something in Lily’s mind bristled at his choice of words: ‘to share their lives’. No matter how much she liked Jacques, a small secret part of her wanted to keep her life for herself and not share it at all. You only got one life and you had to make sure you spent it wisely. Resting her forehead on the kitchen table, she opened and closed her eyes until she was disturbed by Joy tripping over one of the wooden blocks, knocking her head on a table leg and bursting into tears. The sudden noise woke up Emily and she started to cry too.
‘Oh, it’s all right,’ said Lily, trying to soothe both girls at the same time. ‘You’re going to be okay!’
Lifting Joy to her lap, she shook her head at herself in dismay. What was she thinking of, dreaming of the WAAF and the WRNS? Her life was here, looking after her daughter and helping Audrey. She’d write to Jacques and tell him the truth; Joy was her priority and he needed to know that, and she wasn’t going to share her life with someone she hardly knew. Jacques needed certainty and security and an escape, she understood that, but he also needed to be realistic. If they had any chance of having a relationship of any description, they had to know everything about each other first.
Resolving to write to him that evening, Lily decided she would finally tell him everything. No secrets, just the truth, and if he still liked her after that, then she would think about the future.
Doctor Morris was busy, called out to one emergency after another, so Audrey left a message and decided to contact him the following morning if Donald hadn’t improved. Something she’d learned in just a few weeks of motherhood was that babies could be terribly unhappy one minute, then perfectly happy the next, so perhaps he’d be much better by dawn. She tried to reassure herself that this was the case, but that evening, he seemed worse. Despite yawning with exhaustion, Audrey was determined to stay awake while the babies slept, so she could keep an eye on him.
‘Come on, little love,’ she whispered to him, gently rubbing his back as he coughed and coughed, ‘try to rest now.’
At midnight, Lily popped her head round the door and smiled at the sight of Donald asleep in Audrey’s arms.
‘How’s he doing?’ she whispered. ‘He looks like he’s sleeping peacefully now.’
‘In fits and starts,’ said Audrey in a hushed voice. ‘He’s been coughing and has a fever, and has barely fed, but I think he’s worn himself out, poor dot. I daren’t put him down though in case he wakes up again.’
‘Can I watch him for you?’ Lily said. ‘I can hold him while you get a bit of sleep?’
Audrey smiled gratefully, rolled her aching left shoulder to iron out some cricks, but shook her head.
‘I can’t leave him,’ she said, kissing his head. ‘I just can’t.’ She carefully sat down and gestured to Lily to sit down too.
‘I thought you’d say that,’ said Lily. ‘I’ll come and sit with you for a while, then.’ Before she did so, she draped a blanket over Audrey’s knee and Donald’s legs.
‘What did you want to talk to me about earlier?’ said Audrey.
‘Jacques has written again,’ said Lily. ‘And as I suspected he might, he’s asked for my hand in marriage.’
‘Oh Lily, that’s wonderful,’ Audrey said, gently stroking Donald’s back as he shifted his position. ‘I’m so glad for you, but how will it work out with him being in France? Perhaps a long-distance engagement until the war’s over?’
‘I don’t know,’ Lily said, looking at her hands and inspecting her nails.
