In Love and War (43 page)

‘But my baby,' Marianne whispered. ‘It's due in less than a month. I shouldn't be travelling at this time.'

‘I'll be with you all the way, and we'll be on a hospital train with doctors and nurses and a hospital ship from Calais to Dover. You'll be in good hands.'

Marianne's jaw hardened into the stubborn line that Elsie knew so well. ‘I don't see why it has to be so urgent. Surely another month or so isn't going to make much difference?'

‘They have their sources. Are you willing to risk your life and the baby's by staying in Paris?'

‘I-I don't know.' Marianne raised her hand to her brow. ‘This has all come so suddenly. One moment I was safe and secure and now I just don't know.'

‘You know I wouldn't ask you to do anything that I didn't think was in your best interests. After all, the war can't go on much longer, and when it's over you can return to Paris with your child, if that's what you want.'

Marianne nodded slowly. ‘You're right, of course. You always are.' She smiled wearily. ‘When this is all over I'll take you to le Lavandou. The Villa Mimosa is wonderful in the spring and the summer. We'll take little Henri and we'll swim in the sea and picnic on the beach.'

‘It all sounds wonderful, Marianne.'

‘You'll adore the south of France. We can go there every summer.'

‘I'm sure we will, but what about now? Will you come with me?'

Marianne was about to answer but was distracted by someone knocking on the door. ‘Come in.'

Elsie turned to see Monsieur Bellaire standing in the doorway.

‘May I come in, Marianne?'

‘Yes, Papa, of course.'

He approached them slowly, fixing Marianne with a serious look in his dark eyes. Elsie was struck by his likeness to Henri and she could understand why Marianne was so fond of her father-in-law. He pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘Selene telephoned me at the bank, and I came straight away.'

‘You don't want me to leave, do you?' Marianne asked urgently. ‘I'll be safe here with you, won't I?'

He reached out to take her hand in his. ‘I received a telegram from your father. His battalion is in the thick of it, but he's in possession of intelligence from London. He says you must do as they say and return there immediately.'

‘Why me? I don't understand.'

‘You are one of many that they are recalling. I can't tell you any more than that.'

‘And you think I should go.'

‘I have to agree with your father.'

‘Then I will,' Marianne said, sighing. ‘If you both say so then I must take notice.'

‘That will be the first time ever,' Elsie said, smiling with relief. ‘You need to get your things together and we'll leave at first light.'

They arrived at the Gare du Nord early next morning to see the troop train pulling out of the station. They had left the rue de l'Echelle in good time but had been held up by an accident which had blocked the road, causing chaos even that early in the morning. A donkey cart had been in collision with a farm wagon loaded with sacks of potatoes, and the donkey had broken loose and cantered off down the street, leaving the wagon overturned and sacks that had burst at the seams as they hit the road surface. Potatoes rolled around like marbles with hungry people scrambling to salvage them and the farmer shouting expletives as they hurried away with his crop.

‘What do we do now?' Marianne asked in dismay.

‘There'll be another one along in a minute,' Elsie said with more conviction than she was feeling. ‘We'll get the local train and hope to be in time to catch the hospital ship before it leaves.'

Marianne pulled a face. ‘I keep getting pains. I hope it hasn't started.'

‘I think you'd know all about it if it had. I'm no expert, but I've helped at a couple of births when we went to the aid of people whose homes had been bombed.'

‘I'll tell him to stay put,' Marianne said with a glimmer of her old spirit.

‘Wait here. I'll go and find out when the next train is due and which platform.' Elsie hurried off, praying silently that Marianne was not in labour. It was true that she'd assisted at two births, but the women were already mothers several times over and knew more about it than she did. It had been comparatively easy, at least for her. She made enquiries and returned to Marianne, who was looking reasonably calm. ‘The train has just come in and it's the same platform. There's no need to hurry because it will be in for ten minutes, so the porter told me.' She proffered her arm and Marianne accepted her help without an argument, which again was a first. This new Marianne was a lot easier to deal with than her former self, but Elsie suspected that it would not last. Somewhere beneath the meek and mild surface lurked the old Marianne waiting to get out and set the world on fire.

Marianne came to a sudden halt.

‘What's the matter?' Elsie asked anxiously. ‘You're not having pains again, are you?'

Marianne clutched her arm. ‘We're being watched. I may be pregnant, but I haven't forgotten my training, and I don't like the look of those men.' She jerked her head in the direction of three men dressed in working clothes who were loitering close to the barrier.

Shocked out of her complacent state, Elsie glanced over her shoulder. ‘You're right. I'm a fool to have let my guard down.'

‘What do we do now? They're between us and the platform. We'll never make it.'

‘Keep going. Don't let them see that we've noticed them.'

‘I'm not in a fit state to make a run for it,' Marianne said with a touch of her old humour. ‘What do we do if they try to stop us?'

‘We have to catch that train.'

‘And so you shall.' A deep voice behind them made them spin round to see a familiar figure standing behind them.

‘Raoul.' At any other time Elsie would have thrown her arms around him, but she stifled the impulse. ‘How did you know we were here?'

He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Never mind that now. I'm here to see that you board the train.' He beckoned to a group of porters, and they approached slowly, following them at a discreet distance. With Raoul at their side, Elise and Marianne went through the barrier unmolested. Elsie heard the sounds of a scuffle but she did not look back. Marianne stood on tiptoe to kiss Raoul's whiskery cheek. ‘Thank you,' she murmured. ‘I'll never forget what you've done for us.'

Elsie was certain that he was blushing as he muttered a response. She shook his hand. ‘That goes for me too. Thank you. You're a brave man.'

‘I'm a railwayman. Glad to be of service, ladies.' He bowed and opened a carriage door. ‘Move over, soldier. Make room for the ladies.' He helped Marianne up the steps into the carriage and two young soldiers hastily vacated their seats. Raoul saluted and slammed the door as the train moved off with a hiss of steam.

Marianne lay back in her seat and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I didn't think we'd make it.'

‘We did and that's all that matters.' Elsie settled down beside her. She would not consider them to be out of danger until they were on the hospital ship bound for Dover. Marianne had her eyes closed and was soon fast asleep, as were most of their fellow travellers, and Elsie began to relax.

Marianne woke up just as the train pulled into the station at Calais. She clapped her hand to her mouth to stifle a cry of pain. ‘It's real this time,' she whispered. ‘It's started.'

‘Keep calm,' Elsie said in a low voice. ‘We're in Calais. You'll be fine.' She grabbed the arm of a young French officer. ‘This lady's baby is coming. We need transport to take us to the docks.'

He stared at Marianne in horror. ‘We have our orders, mademoiselle.'

‘Then find your commander and tell him it's a matter of life and death. This woman must get on board the hospital ship bound for Dover. Do you understand?'

He nodded. ‘I'll do what I can.' He leapt out of the open carriage door and disappeared into the crowd.

Elsie stopped a man in a business suit who was about to leave the carriage and together they helped Marianne alight from the train. ‘I refuse to give birth on a station platform,' Marianne muttered, gritting her teeth.

Elsie took Marianne by the arm. ‘Walk slowly and let's hope the lieutenant has found us some transport.' She tried to sound positive but she had visions of having to deliver Marianne's baby in a station waiting room, and when she saw the young lieutenant pushing through the crowds towards them she could have cried with relief. ‘Come with me,' he said, taking Marianne's other arm. ‘The commandant has put his motor vehicle at your disposal.'

‘Wonderful,' Elsie said, crossing her fingers and hoping that the ship would not have sailed.

The commandant's staff car was waiting for them outside the station and as soon as they were settled on the back seat the driver sped off, honking the horn, and weaving in and out of the trucks and horse-drawn vehicles as if it were his life that depended upon reaching the docks. Marianne clutched the side of the car, wincing and biting her lip as pains racked her body. Elsie could only sympathise and pray silently that they would not miss the boat.

They arrived on the jetty just as the gangway was about to be raised, but Elsie was out of the motor car almost before it came to a halt, running towards the ship, waving her arms and calling for them to wait. ‘Stop, please. We need urgent medical help.'

MARIANNE'S BABY WAS
born at sea with a military doctor and nurse in attendance and Elsie there to hold her hand, murmuring words of encouragement.

‘It's a beautiful baby girl,' the nurse said, handing the swaddled baby to Marianne.

‘She's gorgeous,' Elsie said, reaching out to touch the baby's fuzz of blonde hair. ‘I suppose you'll have to call her Henrietta.'

Marianne kissed her baby's cheek and smiled dreamily. ‘I thought I wanted a boy, but I've changed my mind. She's all I want.'

The nurse stood in the doorway clutching a bundle of soiled sheets and towels. ‘As she was born at sea, maybe you ought to call her Marina.'

‘Marina Henrietta,' Marianne said softly. ‘That's a lovely name.' She closed her eyes and Elsie took the baby gently from her arms as she drifted off to sleep.

‘Hello, Marina Henrietta Bellaire,' Elsie whispered. ‘You are going to be much loved.'

‘And no doubt she'll be spoiled rotten,' the nurse said, chuckling. ‘We'll make her up a bed in a drawer. That's what my gran used to do in the old days.'

Elsie rocked the baby in her arms. ‘She has fair hair and beautiful blue eyes, just like her mother.'

‘Just like her auntie, too.' The nurse opened the door. ‘I'll be back in a minute.'

‘I'm not your auntie,' Elsie whispered. ‘But maybe I could be your godmother. How would you like that, Marina?'

The baby gazed up at her and Elsie was certain that she had understood.

Felicia had said she disliked babies, but was clearly besotted with Marina from the first moment she saw her. Anthea was equally enchanted when she came to spend a weekend. David was on duty and she did not want to stay alone in the cottage they rented close to the airfield. It was like old times in the flat, especially on Friday when there was no matinee and Felicia was able to join them for lunch of meatloaf, boiled potatoes and cabbage. She produced the last bottle of wine from the supply she had brought back from France, and Marianne kept them entertained with highly exaggerated accounts of their escape from Paris. ‘You'd think I was Mata Hari,' she said, laughing. ‘I didn't realise I was so important that the Germans would want to kidnap me.'

‘You wouldn't be laughing if they had,' Elsie said drily. ‘You might have suffered the same fate as Nurse Cavell and many others.'

‘I wasn't a spy,' Marianne protested. ‘I was just doing my duty for king and country, as were you. To be honest I thought that the troops on the front line were the only ones in danger, not insignificant little me.'

Felicia raised her glass. ‘Darling, you were never insignificant, and neither could you be described as little before Marina was born.'

‘I know, and I don't begrudge her an ounce of the weight I put on. Marina is the best thing that's ever happened to me, apart from Henri, of course, but then she's a part of him as well as me. He would have been so proud of her.'

Anthea turned to Elsie with a sympathetic smile. ‘You're the last one of us to be a single girl. Have you heard from Guy lately?'

‘I had a letter about a month ago and it had taken weeks to get to me, so I try not to worry. I'd hear soon enough if it was bad news.'

‘Of course you would,' Marianne said, raising her glass. ‘Here's to Guy and all the other brave men and women who're risking their lives to save us from the Hun.'

‘The war can't go on much longer.' Felicia clinked glasses with each one in turn. ‘Here's to us, the backroom girls. Let's hope we aren't the forgotten ones when historians chronicle the war.'

They drank the toast and there was a moment of silence, broken by the sound of the baby crying. Marianne put her glass down and leapt to her feet. ‘She's hungry again, bless her. My charlies will be down to my knees by the time she's weaned.'

Felicia shuddered visibly. ‘Don't. I feel quite ill at the thought, never having gone through the process myself.'

Marianne blew her a kiss as she left the room and Felicia reached for the bottle, refilling her glass with wine. ‘Who would have thought that Marianne had a maternal side to her nature?'

‘Well, I can't wait to be a mother,' Anthea said with a beatific smile. ‘What about you, Elsie?'

‘I expect so, but I haven't thought that far ahead. I need to find a job and earn some money. I can't expect Felicia to keep me.'