Telegrams and Teacakes: A heartbreaking World War Two family saga, page 9
‘Why are you acting so suspiciously, young lady?’ Audrey asked her after they’d closed up the shop for the day. ‘And where is everyone? I need to serve up dinner. We’re having fish salad tonight, with a slice of yesterday’s bread before it goes dry. That’s my one complaint about the National Loaf, Mary, it’s dry too soon. If there’s any fish salad left, it’ll do for fish and cabbage spread for Elsie’s sandwiches tomorrow— oh, I believe it’s Elsie’s night off tonight, isn’t it? I hope so. That girl works more hours a week than anyone else I know. She draws a good wage of course, but she deserves a break.’
Mary nodded obediently while Audrey chattered happily on, all the while clutching her small gift of a quart of pear drops bought from Old Reg, and a home-made card, behind her back. Lily had arranged for Elsie, William, Pat and Uncle John to be in the kitchen to surprise Audrey with a birthday tea, and it was Mary’s job to keep her downstairs in the shop until they were ready at six o’clock on the dot. Burning a hole into the wall clock with her gaze, she couldn’t hold her excitement in any longer. The second the big hand hit twelve, she jumped up and down on the spot.
‘Happy birthday, Audrey!’ she said, handing her the sweets and the card and throwing her arms round Audrey’s expansive middle. ‘Shall we go upstairs into the kitchen, so you can read my card with a cup of tea?’
‘Oh Mary,’ said Audrey, laughing and kissing the top of her head. ‘Thank you. Aren’t you thoughtful! But where did you get the money for these sweets?’
Mary felt herself blush, but she shrugged, gently pushing Audrey towards the stairwell and the kitchen.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You must want some tea.’
‘Okay,’ said Audrey, laughing gently. ‘But where is everyone?’
Mary’s heart pounded in her chest as Audrey approached the kitchen door, more slowly than usual thanks to the baby growing in her belly. She so wanted to have got the surprise celebration right and could hardly wait to unveil her banana cake.
Hearing a muffled giggle followed by ‘Shhh’ as they approached the kitchen, Audrey turned round to look at Mary with an inquisitive grin on her face. Mary shrugged as if she didn’t know anything and nervously watched Audrey place her hand on the doorknob and carefully open the door. When a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ burst forth as Audrey walked into the room, she threw back her head and laughed out loud. William, accompanying on the mouth harp, finished the song with an impressive trill and everyone clapped and cheered.
‘Oh Mary,’ Audrey said, placing her hands on Mary’s shoulders while she looked at the kitchen table where Elsie and Lily had been busy setting out a birthday tea. The tablecloth had been laid out on the kitchen table and the best glasses were turned upside down, waiting to be used. In the middle stood a plate of fish paste and cabbage sandwiches, and a jug of lemonade made with saccharine tablets was covered with a crocheted jug cover. Uncle John, with his white shirt sleeves rolled up, held out a chair for Audrey to sit down on and William tucked his mouth harp into his pocket. Dressed in a striped blouse, with her copper curls piled on her head, Lily handed Audrey a card and a small gift. And Pat, who had attached a brooch to her jacket and wore a pretty scarf round her neck, proudly handed her a knitted tea cosy.
‘I made it for you,’ said Pat. ‘I hope you like it. I haven’t wrapped it. Well, it would be wrong, what with the waste paper drive on.’
‘I love it,’ said Audrey. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘A man in my class made my gift,’ Lily said, making everyone laugh, as Audrey unwrapped a small wood carving of a seagull.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Audrey said, turning the seagull over in her hands. ‘Thank you. Gracious, I’m bowled over by this!’
Mary beamed at Audrey, suddenly remembering the cake she’d made.
‘There’s something else too,’ she said. ‘Close your eyes and hold out your hands.’
Audrey closed her eyes as Mary placed a plate in her hands.
‘Ooh, you’re going to love this!’ said Lily.
‘You better share it with us,’ said John. ‘Don’t be keeping it all for yourself!’
‘Can I open my eyes now?’ asked Audrey, cracking open one eye and staring in surprise at the plate, where there was a yellow blob of melted mock icing smeared over a length of bread, with a candle stuck in the middle. Registering Mary’s expectant expression, full of hopeful anticipation, and feeling her heart might burst with gladness, Audrey broke out into joyful laughter.
‘It’s a banana cake,’ said Mary, blushing. ‘It’s meant to look like a banana, but there’s no banana in it!’
Audrey carefully placed the plate down on the table, smiled at Uncle John, who winked at her, and hugged Mary to her belly. She kissed her on the top of her head.
‘Oh Mary, this looks quite delicious,’ she said. ‘How many years has it been since any of us has had a banana? Let me try a little piece.’
There was a moment of quiet as they all watched Audrey slice off a tiny piece and eat it. Audrey tried her hardest not to cringe, but the mustard powder was burning the roof of her mouth, and her cheeks were flushing boiling red.
‘Gosh! Do I have steam coming out of my ears?’ she spluttered. ‘That’s a very… unusual flavour, Mary. Is it mustard powder? Lots of mustard powder?’
Mary nodded. She covered her mouth with her hand but couldn’t help bursting out into laughter. She was soon joined by everyone in the room, including Audrey, whose sides ached with laughing. For a brief wonderful moment, they were all laughing so hard it felt like they would never stop.
‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ said Audrey, wiping her eyes. ‘Maybe I should make that one of our new wartime cakes! Certainly warm people up in the winter months!’
Still laughing, Audrey broke out into a cough, but then it stopped abruptly and she doubled over in pain, gripping the edge of the table to support herself. Pat, William, Lily, John and Elsie all immediately jumped up from their seats and moved towards her. A hush descended over the group.
‘Are you unwell, Audrey?’ Pat said, taking her arm. ‘Is it the baby?’
Audrey felt the concern of everyone in the room like a warm, soft blanket, but she didn’t want to ruin the occasion by worrying them.
‘Goodness,’ she gasped, forcing herself to smile. ‘If there wasn’t still a month to go, I’d think the baby was coming. He or she must be eager to get out!’
‘Let me call the doctor out,’ said Lily. ‘I think you should tell him what’s been going on. I’ll run and get him. He won’t mind.’
‘Oh, please don’t bother him,’ said Audrey. ‘He’s such a busy man at the moment.’
‘I will phone him and ask him to visit,’ said Lily. ‘You need to be honest about the pains you’ve been having. What if the baby’s in trouble? Here, sit down.’
Suddenly feeling very unsure of herself, Audrey felt the fight drain out of her. She sat down heavily in the chair. Yes, maybe she did need to see the doctor. It was just that she could not bear to hear what he had to say. What if he gave her bad news?
‘What pains? What’s been going on?’ said Pat, indignant. ‘John, do you know about this?’
John, who had stuffed a sandwich into his mouth, didn’t even finish chewing before he leapt to his own defence.
‘What am I getting the blame for now?’ he said. ‘Course I didn’t know! I would’ve been the first to tell her to get some help.’
‘Well, you’re here every day,’ said Pat. ‘Why didn’t you notice that she’s been having pains? I certainly would have done.’
‘Oh well, you’re bleeding perfect, Pat!’ said John.
Audrey held her hands up to quieten everyone down.
‘Nobody’s to blame but me,’ she said, fiddling with the edges of the tablecloth. ‘It’s true that I’ve had a few aches but they’re not bad. The baby is moving – a lot – so surely that’s all that matters?’
‘What about you, though?’ said Pat. ‘You’re just as important as the baby.’
‘Listen, everyone, don’t worry,’ said Audrey. ‘Let’s enjoy these sandwiches before another siren goes off and we’re stuck in the shelter.’
Audrey tried not to notice them all glancing anxiously at one another. Feeling Mary’s hand slip into her own, she squeezed it gently to reassure her, though in truth, she felt suddenly vulnerable. All along she had been thinking about the baby and had been reassured that it was kicking and spinning around, but what about herself? Perhaps it would be wise to see the doctor, after all.
* * *
Later, Doctor Morris arrived in his smart, dark suit and, with Mary and Lily crowded into Audrey’s bedroom, inspected Audrey’s bump. Listening with his stethoscope for what felt like an inordinate amount of time, he felt all around her belly and asked her various questions, his thick black eyebrows knotted.
‘I think you’re suffering with heartburn, but it’s also quite tight for space in there,’ he said. ‘That’s why you’re having pains. One of your nerves is getting in the way of the babies.’
‘Baby,’ Audrey quickly corrected him.
He raised an eyebrow and smiled a knowing smile, which confused Audrey.
‘You said babies,’ she said. ‘It’s baby. I’m having a baby.’
Chuckling a little, the doctor began packing away his equipment into his black doctor’s bag and then sat on the edge of the bed, leaning across to pat Audrey on the hand.
‘Mrs Barton,’ he said. ‘Do you know you’re having twins?’
Audrey, now leaning with her back against the headboard, sat more upright as she tried to digest the doctor’s words. Lily and Mary gasped.
‘You mean…’ stuttered Audrey. Her hand flew to her throat. ‘Two babies?’
Her eyes scanned the room, briefly meeting Lily and Mary’s before settling on the photograph of Charlie.
‘Well, blow me,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what to say or think! Two?’
‘Twins.’ Lily laughed. ‘That’s amazing!’
‘Yes.’ The doctor laughed as well. ‘You’re going to be a mother of two.’
‘Three,’ said Audrey, quick as a flash. ‘I’m going to be a mother of three. Mary here is my eldest daughter.’
‘Then you’re going to have two siblings, young lady,’ said the doctor to Mary, whose eyes had grown wide in her face. ‘I’ll arrange for an experienced midwife to come and visit you. Twin births are more dangerous, so we’ll need to take good care of you.’
‘Well I never,’ Audrey said, stunned. She whispered into the room: ‘How on earth will I manage?’
Lifting herself up to sitting, she tried to digest the news. Two babies. Charlie overseas. A war on and a bakery to run.
‘Mrs Barton, if anyone can manage,’ the doctor said with a smile, offering her a Nuttall’s Mintoe to relieve the heartburn, ‘I believe it’s you.’
Chapter Twelve
Earlier that evening, Betty had had her own shocking news to digest. Standing in a puddle but not noticing the water soaking through the hole in the sole of her boot, with the wind and rain whipping against her face, making her skinny pale legs tremble, her jaw fell open as Robert told her his news.
‘Doris is dead,’ he said, speaking the words clearly causing him great pain. ‘Bleedin’ Jerry killed her when she was visiting her grandmother in Bath. Folk say the Luftwaffe were heading to Bristol again, but they emptied everything they had on Bath, late at night, when she had her head down for the night. She wasn’t killed then, but at 4.30 a.m. when they came back. Course the fires were still blazing from the earlier raid and Doris was out trying to help the old folk get to safety. Firefighters did their best, but whole streets were alight, and so they hit it again, just to make sure. It was then that she was killed. Apparently, the pilots came so low folk said you could see their faces as they released the bombs.’
Betty had to sit down on a garden wall. She’d read in the papers about the latest attacks by the Luftwaffe, who had eased off very slightly from London and were pounding the historic towns of Bath, Norwich and York instead, apparently in retaliation for the RAF’s hit on Rostow and Lubeck. Robert was a tough man. He worked long hours in the dockyards in all weathers until his hands were raw, and during the Bristol Blitz, he’d carried neighbours out of burning buildings over his shoulder without a moment’s hesitation, giving them the clothes off his back if they needed them; but now, he was fighting back tears as he spoke. Betty was speechless. For so many weeks she’d felt furious with Robert for his double life and rogue ways, as he lied and cheated his way through their marriage. She’d hated him and Doris for having children that she’d so longed for and despised herself for not confronting them. But how could she feel hatred now? Seeing Robert like this broke her heart. Instinctively she wanted to comfort him – after all, he was her husband.
‘Robert, I don’t know what to say…’ she started, reaching out for his hand and gently lacing her fingers through his. He squeezed her hand in his.
‘Can I buy you a cup of tea out of the rain?’ he said softly. ‘You’re soaked through. There’s a café down here and I know I owe you an explanation.’
In the café, shivering in her damp summer dress, with the rain streaking the windows and a steaming cup of tea that she couldn’t stomach in front of her, Betty’s mind raced with questions. The wireless played in the background and the smell of toasted teacakes wafted through the room.
‘About what’s happened, Betty,’ Robert said slowly, finally meeting her gaze. ‘I know how this sounds, but it’s been a tough few years.’
Betty shook her head and couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Yes, the man was going through it, and she was sympathetic to that, but he’d been carrying on with another woman for years. She felt a tide of resentment rising in her.
‘Perhaps you should have tried being honest,’ she said quietly, tracing a flower pattern on the tablecloth with her fingertip.
‘Thing is, I didn’t know what to do,’ he said, leaning back in his chair and looking out of the window. ‘I was going with Doris before I met you and when we were married, she came to me and said she was expecting my child. Her dad threatened to wring my neck and kill me with his own bare hands if I didn’t do the right thing by her, so I thought: nobody will find out, I’ll marry her as well and help look after the wee one, while not letting you down. Trouble was that Doris fell with more babies and it got out of hand. I juggled two families. Course none of this was fair on you, I know that. You have every right to hate me. I’ve done wrong, I know that. But now Doris is dead, I want you to come home, so we can get back to normal.’
Betty almost laughed at Robert’s naivety. Did he really expect she’d go running back to Bristol after the years of deception? Besides, she suddenly realised, he had three children. Unless…
‘Oh Robert, were the children injured in the bomb?’ she asked, her eyes open wide.
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Doris had left them with her sister in Bristol.’
Relieved, Betty exhaled, before asking: ‘What will happen to them now? Will her sister take them in?’
Robert sighed and shrugged before scratching his head and loosening his shirt collar.
‘I haven’t worked that one out yet,’ he mumbled. ‘Will you come home, Betty love? That’s what I came here to find out.’
Betty glanced at the clock on the café wall, where there was a poster declaring that ‘Cadbury is Quality’ next to a mirror, in which she caught her reflection. With wet hair stuck to her forehead and pink cheeks, she hardly recognised herself – or the glimpse of Robert she could also see; he looked suddenly much older than his years. The time was twenty-five minutes past five. She was due to meet Sam on the hour – and she didn’t want to let him down.
‘I need some thinking time,’ she said, pushing back her chair with a screech. Robert stayed where he was, rooted to his chair, apparently defeated and drained by everything that was happening. He was in a sorry state and in spite of every mistake he’d made along the way, Betty’s heart went out to him. She patted him on the shoulder and opened the door to leave.
‘Don’t keep me hanging on,’ he muttered as she left the café without another word, the door swinging shut behind her with a thud.
* * *
Willing the bus driver to travel faster and spend less time talking to every Tom, Dick or Harry that embarked, Betty checked the time with the passenger sitting next to her every few moments.
‘It’s still five minutes to six,’ the elderly man said, with a gentle laugh. ‘Are you meeting a young man, by any chance?’
Betty blushed flaming red.
‘Oh no, I…’ she started, but when he raised his eyebrows, she smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘Don’t you worry,’ he said, patting her hand as she gripped onto the handrail. ‘If he’s got any sense, he’ll wait all night for you.’
‘He’s Canadian,’ she blurted out. ‘I’m not sure how long he’ll be in Bournemouth, so I don’t want to be late.’
Betty frowned at her own words, wondering what on earth she was talking about.
‘Ah, I see,’ said the old man, with amusement in his voice. ‘The Canadians have been here a while already and I should think they’re browned off at being here so long without seeing any action. They’ve too much time on their hands for leisure activities.’
He winked at her and she blushed scarlet.
‘This is me,’ she said, jumping up from her seat. ‘Good night, sir.’
He raised his hand and gave her a small wave.
‘Youth comes but once in a lifetime,’ he said. ‘Enjoy yourself.’
Running to the clock tower, where she could see Sam getting drenched in the downpour, thoughts of Robert and of everything he’d just told her tumbled through Betty’s head. Unable to make sense of how she was feeling, she slowed down to a walking pace and took a deep breath. Wait a moment, she said to herself, pausing to tie her shoelace, what am I doing here? Why am I meeting Sam, when Robert, my husband, has just asked me to return to Bristol? Do I still love Robert? Or has he destroyed any love I had for him with his duplicity? Do I owe it to him to give the marriage another chance? And what about Sam, this new man she felt compelled to meet. How did she know he was trustworthy? Feeling utterly confused, she wondered if she should just return to her room, pull down the blackout blind and sleep, but Sam had already spotted her and was calling out her name.
