A Cuckoo in Candle Lane (34 page)

‘I’ll stay here then. I can find a bedsit to rent,’ she said belligerently.

‘No, you won’t,’ Bert said, his voice a dangerously quiet growl. ‘You’re not old enough to leave home yet, my girl.’

‘I’m seventeen, Dad, and I’ll be eighteen in March. You can’t stop me leaving home if I want to.’

Elsie was startled to see her usually mild-mannered husband rear out of his chair.

‘If you leave home, that’s it!’ he roared, his voice resounding in the small room. ‘I’ll wash my hands of you. First my son buggers off to Australia and now you’re making threats. Hasn’t it occurred to you that your mother and I need a fresh start, a chance to get away from this stinking area?’

Ann’s face crumbled, and as she ran from the room, Elsie held out a restraining hand. ‘Wait, your father didn’t mean it.’

Shaking off her mother’s touch, she bolted for the stairs while Bert, looking utterly deflated, sank onto his chair. ‘I’m sorry, Elsie, I don’t know what came over me. Perhaps I had better go and talk to her,’ he said worriedly.

She shook her head. ‘Leave her, love. She’ll come round. We’re all still missing Arthur and it’s making us a bit touchy.’

And, as predicted, after about fifteen minutes Ann walked sheepishly into the room, her eyes red from crying. ‘I’m sorry, Dad,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know what made me act like that. Of course I won’t leave home.’

Elsie smiled as Bert reached out and grasped Ann’s hand, his relief evident. ‘I’m sorry too, darling. Anyway, how could you leave your poor old dad?’

‘Well I can’t, can I? If you’re that old, you’ll need me to look after you,’ she replied, half-laughing and half-crying.

Elsie sighed; they’d be all right now. And perhaps Bert was right – they did need a fresh start.

A
week later, just as Sally was about to leave for work, Elsie came rushing in waving a letter. ‘It’s from Arthur,’ she cried excitedly.

‘How is he?’ Ruth asked.

‘He says it’s very hot and they’ve all been put in a hostel until they find their own accommodation. His job isn’t too bad, but there’s no unemployment out there so he might look around for something better.’ She frowned, scratching her head. ‘It doesn’t sound like he’s enjoying it much, does it?’

‘Blimey, give him time. He’s only just arrived,’ Ruth told her.

Sally listened to the conversation, waiting for the news about Jenny, surprised when Elsie just rattled on about how Arthur said he’d been sea-sick on the journey and how glad he was to get off the ship. ‘What else has he got to say?’ she asked, glancing anxiously at the clock.

‘Nothing really, just that he misses us and hopes we’re all well. Are you off to work now, Sally?’

‘Yes,’ she answered distantly, her thoughts confused. ‘I’m just going – see you later.’

Hurrying down the Lane to the bus stop, she wondered why Arthur hadn’t told his mother about Jenny’s pregnancy. Was it because he was going to wait until they got married?

Her thoughts drifted to Ann, dreading it when she moved to Wimbledon. God, she would miss her so much, Elsie too. They had been living next door for over seven years, she and Ann becoming like sisters, and though they had consoled themselves by arranging to see each other as much as possible, it wouldn’t be the same.

She just made it by nine o’clock and unlocking the door, rushed into the shop. There was no sign of Sid so, hanging her coat in the back room, she returned to the shop, grabbing a duster and running it over the counter.

‘If you polish that glass much more it’ll fade away,’ Sid chuckled, appearing in the doorway and handing her a cup of tea. ‘I’ve put two sugars in it, Sally. Drink it while it’s nice and hot, it’ll warm you up.’

‘Thanks,’ she said gratefully, taking a gulp of the strong tea. Almost immediately she paled, clamping a hand over her mouth as her stomach heaved. ‘Oh God, Sid, I feel sick,’ she cried, running from the shop and into the toilet, just making it in time.

Afterwards, staring at her distorted reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink, she wondered why she had been sick again. Still feeling slightly nauseous she splashed cold water onto her face, hoping it would revive her. It was then that the penny dropped and she clutched the side of the wash basin, her knuckles white. She hadn’t had a period last month and now realised that she’d just missed another one. Oh God, she thought, I’m pregnant. She swayed, her heart thumping with fear. What would her mother say? How could she tell her?

‘Sally, are you all right?’ Sid called from outside the door.

‘Yes, I’m just coming,’ she croaked, roughly drying her face.

When she returned to the shop Sid gazed at her, a question in his eyes. ‘You don’t look too good, Sally. Maybe you should go home.’

‘No, no, I’ll be all right,’ she told him, an edge of panic in her voice. How could she go home? Her mother would want to know what was wrong.

‘Sally, do you know why you’re being sick?’

She stared at Sid, surprised by the intuitive question, and flushing, she grabbed the duster again, polishing the counter as she mumbled, ‘I expect I’ve eaten something that’s upset my tummy.’

‘No, gel, you’ve been sick for three mornings on the trot now – and I think you know why.’

Rubbing the glass vigorously she ignored his question, but he grasped her arm, turning her gently round, his eyes deep with compassion. ‘You’re having a baby, Sally. I can remember when my Rachel suffered from morning sickness too.’

Her shoulders slumped. ‘Are you going to give me the sack?’ she whispered.

‘No, of course not, but you’ll be leaving to get married, won’t you?’

‘No, I won’t be getting married. The father’s in Australia.’

‘Oh, my life, Sally. What are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘My mum will go mad when she finds out.’

Sid shook his head, obviously worried by her dilemma. ‘Well, you won’t be able to hide it from her for long, Sally.’

That evening, making her way home, Sally thought about how understanding Sid had been and prayed her mother would be the same. And her gran, how would she take it?

She arrived home, finding them discussing Elsie’s move again, both deeply affected. ‘We’ll never get neighbours as good as them again,’ her mum was saying as she walked into the room. ‘Hello, Sally, you look frozen, dinner won’t be long,’ Ruth gabbled, turning back to the subject of Elsie. ‘I’m pleased for her, really I am, but I wish she was staying.’

Sadie smiled at her granddaughter, motioning her over to the fire. ‘Come and warm yerself up, love,’ she invited, before responding, ‘I know what you mean, Ruth. They’ve been bloody good to us over the years.’

Sally sat down, staring at the fire, and only dimly hearing the conversation in the background. Her thoughts raced. She had to tell them, there was no choice, but she quivered with fear at the thought.

Her eyes were fixed on the flickering flames, and she became mesmerised as a picture began to form. Was it her imagination – was that really Arthur she could see standing on the prow of a ship, gazing out to sea? She blinked, startled as her mum’s voice intruded, the vision disappearing.

‘Come on, Sally, I said dinner’s on the table. Blimey, you were miles away.’

She joined them at the table, where she sat gazing at her plate, piled high with braised steak and mashed potatoes. Her mouth was dry with nerves, and picking up her fork, she stabbed half-heartedly at a piece of meat.

‘Are you all right, Sal? You look a bit pale,’ her mother said anxiously.

Putting her fork down, the piece of steak uneaten, Sally braced herself before saying, ‘I’ve got something to tell you both.’

‘Yeah. Well spit it out then.’

Looking at her mother and gran across the table, Sally struggled to find the words, but her throat was constricted and she ended up just shaking her head in despair.

‘Have you got the sack, is that it?’ Ruth asked sympathetically. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll soon get another job.’

‘Oh Mum, I … I’m …’ she gasped, her eyes filling with tears.

‘What’s the matter? It can’t be that bad, surely.’

The sympathy was almost too much, and finding herself still unable to speak, she turned to look at her gran. But it was no good, the words just wouldn’t come, and she lowered her head.

A hand covered hers, the fingers gnarled with arthritis and skin freckled with age. ‘Come on, Sally, tell us what’s wrong. As the saying goes, a trouble shared is a trouble halved,’ her gran urged.

Oh Gran, she thought as her hand was gently squeezed again, you’re going to be so ashamed of me. Yet she had to tell them, she had no choice. ‘I’m having a baby,’ she finally blurted out, feeling her face flame.

Silence – there was utter silence. Raising her face, she saw both her mum and gran sitting frozen like statues, staring at her in disbelief.

‘No, you can’t be,’ her mother finally gasped. ‘It takes two, Sally, and you ain’t had a bloke since you broke up with John. How can you be pregnant?’

‘Are you sure, Sally? I mean, how far are you gone?’ her gran asked.

‘I haven’t had a period for two months,’ she whispered.

Her mother’s eyes narrowed calculatingly. ‘That was about the time of Arthur’s going-away party, and if you met a bloke there, you’ve kept it bloody quiet.’

Sally jumped as her mum suddenly slammed her fist on the table, shouting, ‘Whoever it is, you’ll ’ave to marry him, my girl – and quick too!’

‘Calm down, Ruth,’ Sadie intervened, ‘Now, Sally, tell us, who ’ave you been seeing?’

She shook her head. ‘I haven’t been seeing anyone. I don’t know who the father is,’ she lied.

‘Don’t know? You don’t know!’ her mother screamed, jumping up and pacing the floor. ‘You must know, you soppy cow. Or are you gonna tell us yer the Virgin Mary?’ She added sarcastically.

‘Wait a minute, Ruth,’ Sadie urged. ‘There must be some explanation.’ She leaned forward. ‘Sally, did a man force himself on you? Were you raped – is that what happened?’

‘No, no!’ she exclaimed. What could she say? How could she hide the truth from them? ‘It was the party – I had too much to drink. There was someone, but I don’t remember who it was.’

Her mother marched across the room and Sally winced as she grabbed her arm painfully. ‘You’re telling me you got drunk, had sex with someone, but you don’t know who it was? You’re a slut, Sally Marchant, a filthy, dirty little slut!’

‘Stop it, Ruth!’ Sadie cried, ‘Shouting and bawling ain’t gonna solve anything. We need to think, decide what to do.’

Ruth’s eyes were like venomous slits. ‘Well, to start with she’ll ’ave to go away. Can you imagine the field day our neighbours would ’ave if they found out? Bleedin’ hell, there’s enough scandal in the Lane as it is. Don’t you remember how everyone reacted when Judy Wilson got pregnant without getting married! Christ, her mother walked around with her head down for ages, she was so ashamed.’ She threw a look of disgust at Sally. ‘Bloody hell, how could you do this to me?’ she spat.

‘I’m sorry Mum.’

‘Sorry? You’re
sorry?
My God, I could kill you.’

‘Ruth, that’s enough!’ Sadie shouted. ‘I’m ashamed of you, talking like that. Who are you to throw stones? Have you forgotten what you got up to during the war? Were
you
any less of a slut?’

Ruth gave an agonised gasp and dropped onto a chair. She folded her arms on the table, laying her head down on them as her shoulders started to shake with sobs.

Sadie got up to stand by her side, stroking her hair gently. ‘I’m sorry, but it had to be said. You’ve put your daughter on a pedestal, and when you do that it’s always painful when they fall off. Now come on, it’s not the end of the world. She’s not the first girl to get into trouble and she won’t be the last. We’ll work something out.’

They were quiet then, waiting for her mum to calm down, the dinner congealed on their plates. Sally hung her head, deep in thought. Mum had said she would have to move out, but where could she go?

It was her gran who finally came up with a solution. ‘I’ve got an idea. She could go and stay with Mary.’

Ruth raised her face, dashing away the tears with her fingers. ‘Yeah, she could do that, and we can tell people she’s got a new live-in job. But what about when she’s had the kid – what then?’

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but for now I’m going to give Mary a ring and ask her to come round. I’m sure Elsie won’t mind if I use her telephone.’

Sally stood up; they were talking about her as if she wasn’t there, as if she had no say in the matter. ‘I’m going upstairs,’ she told them, quietly leaving the room, unable to bear the pain in her mother’s eyes any longer.

Mary arrived an hour later and looked absolutely dumbfounded when Sadie told her that Sally was pregnant. ‘I simply can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘When you rang and asked me to come round, this was the last thing I expected. Who’s the father?’

‘We don’t know and that’s why we needed to see you,’ Sadie told her daughter.

‘What do you mean, you don’t know? Won’t Sally tell you who it is?’