Children in Her Shadow (24 page)

They entered the flat and despite George’s warning, Edward turned to Ruth and with some apparent concern said, “The doctors at the hospital are very worried about your health and want us to send for an ambulance to take you into hospital.” He then looked at the baby in Ruth’s arms as indeed did George and any doubt that this was not Edward’s child was immediately dispelled. Michael was the image of his father even down to the distinct long ear lobes and that ‘Carmichael nose’.

Edward went on, “We’re here to take the baby home with us until you are feeling better and then we can discuss you and your baby’s future.” George was taken aback by what appeared to be a generous offer of help. But George was wily, and knew Edward well. He could see that Edward had no intention of giving up this child who was clearly his son. There was no point in Ruth struggling as Edward gently took Michael from her arms, she was too weak and was defeated. Without taking a toy or a comforter or clothes Edward left with Michael, his medication, a bottle and some powdered milk. As the door closed Ruth collapsed to the floor.

George and Edward dashed across the road to a waiting Ellen who was surprised by the speed of their return. She took the sleeping child in her arms and having studied his features she turned to Edward and said, “Oh Edward what have you done? This child is clearly your son ….and what of Ruth, how is she?” George explained that she was extremely unwell and with that he went to the telephone and rang the Hospital to advise them of the situation.

Some time later, as Edward and Ellen drove onto Fishergate they saw Ruth being carried on a stretcher into the back of an ambulance. Again Ellen turned to Edward and said, “Oh Edward, what has this family done to that poor child?”

Emotionless and without a second glance, Edward passed the ambulance and sped on his way to Eastbrook Farm and Sarah who would be there waiting for him.

Ruth was admitted directly to Preston Royal Infirmary suffering from acute and life threatening pneumonia. There she stayed for three weeks during which time the sickness almost took her life. She was weak, delirious and for most of the time she was sedated. Her health deteriorated so much in the first week that doctors were constantly asking for her family to attend her in hospital. Sadly, all the hospital knew of Ruth was the address where she had been brought to hospital from and they knew nothing of her family other than the Carmichael’s who were conspicuous by their absence.

As Ruth’s strength slowly returned and she was again able to talk she would simple say that she had no family. The hospital doctors became increasingly concerned by her mumblings and questions about her baby and it was only when she became lucid and arrangements were being made to transfer her for convalescent care, coincidentally to Sharoe Green in Fulwood, that they discovered Ruth had delivered a child there in April.

On admission to Sharoe Green Hospital the staff were concerned to establish the whereabouts and the welfare of Ruth’s baby and were not satisfied until they had made contact with the Carmichael family and could confirm that Michael was safe in their care. Despite Edward knowing the state of Ruth’s health when he last saw her and knowing that she had been critically ill he didn’t once visit Ruth in the hospital.

Following the revelation that Edward had fathered a third child and that the child, Michael had been brought to Eastbrook Farm, the future plans that Edward and Sarah had been making to marry seemed to everyone to be at serious risk of unravelling. But the Carmichael family had under estimated the bond of love that existed between their son and Sarah and their capacity to drive forward with those plans despite the reappearance of Ruth.

A family meeting was arranged following a couple of weeks during which Edward and Sarah had carefully analysed their options and their future plans. Sarah had returned to see her parish priest, this time with Edward who explained that he had filed for divorce on the grounds of desertion and that they would need to wait for three years to marry. The conversation with the priest included the fact that when Ruth had left Edward she was pregnant with his child. They shared with the priest that the child had now joined his sisters at Eastbrook Farm and their plans once they were married would be to take all three children into their home as a family. Sarah and Edward were careful to skirt around the matter that within weeks of filing for the divorce Edward knew the whereabouts of Ruth and indeed had met with her.

The parish priest was no more encouraging than on the previous occasion about their prospects of marrying in the Catholic Church though he did agree to write to the Bishop for advice particularly as there were now three children involved. The priest was encouraged to hear that Edward had agreed to start the necessary ‘Instructions’ to become a Catholic and to convert to Catholicism at the earliest possible date. The priest explained that the course of Instructions was the process by which an adult becomes a member of the Catholic Church and includes Catholic teaching in beliefs and practices, prayer and scripture reading. Finally, they made plans that Michael would be the first of the three children to be baptised into the Catholic Church.

The family, without any discussion or reference to Ruth had taken control of Michael with the firm intention that despite the additional burden on Ellen, Michael would not be returned to Ruth. As a concession to Sarah who was determined to undermine the last vestige of Ruth’s connection to the child, Edward agreed to her demand that at the baptism the child’s name should be changed from Michael to Robert. Had Ruth been aware of this calculated and cruel act it would have destroyed her.

A date for the Baptism was set for November and it was agreed that immediately afterwards Edward would formalise the name change by instructing the office for Births Deaths and Marriages. This decision was to become the precursor for a raft of changes that would marginalise Ruth to being simply the mother of three children she ultimately abandoned.

Ruth was discharged from hospital in early July and with the help of Marilyn her neighbour who had visited her every Sunday during her stay in hospital, she was able to return to her flat in Preston. Ruth had managed to regain some of her weight and outwardly at least she had recovered well. Mentally however, she was scarred by the loss of her third child and despite several letters to Edward during the course of her hospital stay, begging for an opportunity to see him and the two other children there were no replies.

On Ruth’s return to her flat she spent days scrubbing, polishing and cleaning to restore the room to that of a single person. All remaining reminders of Michael were removed from the room and the window was opened to bring much needed fresh air into the room. Ruth met with the landlord who was aware that Michael was no longer with her. He agreed to extend the lease on the room on a monthly basis and this gave Ruth some stability whilst she decided what she was going to do next with her life.

Ruth’s first priority was to make a trip to Senghenydd following a letter from Auntie Lottie to say that Uncle Arthur had been unwell. Ruth replied and excitedly informed Auntie Lott that she would come and stay with them over the last weekend in July knowing that by then she should look and feel much better.

Ruth boarded a train in Preston and made in reverse the journey that she had embarked upon all those years ago to come to the north of England to do her bit for the war effort. As the train made its journey south she recalled the flirting of the young men who shared her journey to the north and wondered what course their lives had taken, were they still alive, had they found a sweetheart and married, did
they
have children too?

On this journey, the train was much quieter and there were not the eyes looking at a young, beautiful desirable woman, what glances there were almost seemed to marginalise rather than engage her. Though Ruth was on the road to physical recovery, she knew that she had lost the sparkle of youth. The curvaceous seventeen year old was now a twenty four year old mother of three, burdened by the baggage of guilt, scarred by terrible memories and introverted to the point of appearing cold and distant.

Ruth arrived in Senghenydd at about five thirty, weary from a long train and bus journey and drained from her hours of soul searching. She knocked on Auntie Lott’s door something she had never done before remembering that when she lived in the village she would simply walk in and shout, ‘It’s Ruth’, indeed, doors would only be closed and locked at night.

Lott answered the door looking ill but finding the strength to warmly take Ruth into her arms. She held Ruth in an embrace for what seemed like minutes before bringing her into the kitchen. Ruth looked towards Arthur’s chair which was empty. She turned to Lott and knew in an instant that Arthur had gone. Lott wept as she explained that Arthur had died the previous week and that the funeral had taken place the previous day.

With tears still rolling down her face Lott spoke with pride as she made a cup and tea and told Ruth about the funeral that was attended by the whole village. Typically for these Welsh valleys, the funeral service started at the house with Arthur’s simple coffin being taken from the front room where it had been for the past forty eight hours.

Lott explained, much to the inner amusement of Ruth, that she had put the crocheted table runner on the top of the coffin along with her crystal vase but not before she had given the coffin a good polish which she did each day, “I like my home to be clean and tidy” she said as she carried on with her story.

Sitting in her chair alongside the fire place, with Ruth kneeling at her feet, Lott explained, “As the hearse slowly pulled away from the house my neighbours and friends, young and old, fell in behind me and slowly walked to the junction where more friends were gathered, and they too joined the funeral cortege. This was repeated again and again as we slowly walked past each street or road junction all the way up the hill to the church. As the funeral party reached the church so the men of the village broke into Arthur’s favourite hymn, Cwm Rhondda.”

Ruth clasped Auntie Lott’s hands in hers as Lott described how she turned to look behind her at the villagers. “There were as many as three hundred good souls who had gathered to say goodbye to a much loved friend and neighbour” she said, and how true that was.

With pride in her voice, Lott explained that as the coffin was carefully taken from the hearse, the men, still singing had slowly and quietly come together and formed up as a choir. “The air was filled with the sound and the harmonised voices of more than one hundred great Welsh singing voices and if I had been in Treorchy I could have heard this choir singing for Arthur.” Ruth knew the importance of this wonderful hymn which for every Welsh man or woman is the very embodiment of the ‘hwyl’ or good bye.

Lott explained that only the men sang and as though to respect them and their great voices as much as the passing of Arthur, no one moved until the final words were sung:

Guide me oh Thou great Jehovah

Pilgrim through this barren land

I am weak but Thou art mighty;

Hold me with Thy powerful hand,

Bread of heaven, bread of heaven

Feed me till I want no more;

Feed me till I want no more.

Lott brought her story to a close by saying: “Before they closed the coffin, I placed in Arthur’s right hand a photograph, taken many years ago of Arthur, me and Dai and another of you Ruth, forever the daughter we never had.” Ruth was overwhelmed that on this saddest of days Lott had taken the trouble to ensure that her love for Arthur was remembered.

As they sat drinking tea, and eating Auntie Lott’s Welsh cakes in the fading light of the evening the door opened and in came Dai who had personally walked to every house in the street to thank them on behalf of his mother for “giving Arthur a good send off.” He had also been returning plates and cups and saucers to neighbours who had provided them for the tea and sandwiches after the funeral.

Ruth was overjoyed to see Dai once again and as she embraced and kissed him it brought joy to Lott to see this childhood friendship which spanned an age difference of twenty years held in a loving embrace. The remains of that evening were spent reminiscing over hot tea, soup and sandwiches and, of course, Lott’s famous Welsh cakes. Lott and Ruth retired to bed at about ten o’clock and with the house only having two bedrooms they left Dai down stairs to sleep on the sofa in the front room.

Ruth slept well, perhaps the most refreshing sleep she had enjoyed in months but she knew that this return to the womb of her childhood could last only for two more days before she must return to her other life, the life that she had so carefully managed to keep from the people of Senghenydd.

The following day, a Saturday, Dai and Ruth walked to the local shop to get groceries but took time to stop at the recreation field, known to the locals as the ‘rec’ where they sat on a bench to talk. Dai, in a touchingly open way, shared with Ruth the dramas of his marriage which he described as “explosive and unpredictable.” He explained that his wife, who was ‘English’, was a feisty individual whose mood swings saw her move from loving and caring to moody and intolerant. He explained that in the ten years of their marriage, they had two children, a boy and a girl but that in the last year, he and his wife had spent as much time apart as they had together.

He then turned to Ruth and said, “I haven’t told Mam yet but I suspect that she has guessed, that I have moved out from my wife and so far, she has no idea where I am.” He went on, “If she found me she would insist that we get back together but it just wouldn’t work. She gets money for the kids and money for the rent so she is well off but I’ve had enough of her temper and her demands.” Ruth was taken aback by the candour of his revelations knowing that she simply could not reveal any of her life for fear that this open friendship would dissolve in the light of what she had done.