Olga - A Daughter's Tale (19 page)

Birdie was working at the Ward Theatre and it seemed as if she might go to America and stay with Vivie for a while. Vivie had got her divorce and married

Freddie. I wondered how Mammie felt about that, I bet she was upset. Chickie and Maurice were well but poor. Chickie still hadn’t heard a word from Victor Condell and Gwennie was still living with that terrible man, Keith Rousseau. And Boysie and Minah had another baby, a little girl. Once we’d been through the family I waited for the questions to come my way.

“
Mammie is desperately worried about you Olga. We know you’re not at the hospital any more, what happened?”

I couldn’t tell Sydney about Marie, not because I was frightened of him, I wasn’t any more, but because I was so ashamed of what happened to me and I hadn’t the courage to face my family.

I told him I’d failed my first year’s exam and that’s why I left the hospital and because of the war I couldn’t go home. So I had to find some work and because I had some experience nursing I found a job as a children’s nursery nurse.

I told him I had lots of friends and I was very happy with the job because it was well paid and I would never to be able to earn so much in Jamaica. I wanted to stay on here in London a bit longer.

“
Well, that’s fine because I’m going to be here for at least another four months doing business around the country, so, when I’ve finished, we can go home together”. Sydney had it all worked out. “This time”, he said, “I’m keeping my promise to Mammie”.

I gave him a false address and he gave me the date he would be back at the Reynolds Hotel. I told him I would ring him at the hotel when he returned there. It wasn’t that I don’t want to go home, of course I do. I want to be with my family and I want Mammie to see her beautiful little granddaughter, but I fear seeing Mammie’s disappointment in me. That would be too much to bear. I know they will ask questions which I don’t want to answer. The memory is too painful.

Then Sydney asked about Joanne and if she was well. When I told him she’d died, I swear there were tears in his eyes. He put his arm round me, but I had to shake it off and he looked hurt. I couldn’t help it, these days if anyone is kind to me, I cry.

Sydney wanted to know why I hadn’t kept in touch with Aunt Martha. I told him I didn’t like her because she blasphemed a lot, was a drunk, a liar and a hypocrite. I must have said it with such venom, because Sydney looked so shocked. I told him how when I was staying with her, Mr Kitchen stayed overnight with Aunt Martha and that they were living together as man and wife. I told him she said mean things to me.

“
She makes a great pretence of being a Christian person when she’s in Jamaica going to Church but she doesn’t go near a Church here and then there’s Mr Kitchen”

“
What about Mr Kitchen” Sydney asked. And before I could stop myself I’d blurted out Aunt Martha’s big secret.

“
He’s a black man”

******

Dear Diary

The Hunt Ball:
The Hurts have a stud farm in Ireland and, now the war is over, they have decided to close Hendon Hall and move back to Ireland. Mrs Hurt said she would have liked me to come with them, but there are staff there already. I don’t mind really. But before they move to Ireland they want to hold a Hunt Ball, like they used to do before the war.

Fortnum and Mason’s in Piccadilly are doing the catering for the Hunt Ball and Mrs Hurt has put me in charge of collecting the programmes which means I have to stand by the drawing room door and as the gentlemen came in they hand me their programmes. I had a peek at one and it’s just a list of all the dances with room to write down the name of the lady who the gentleman is going to have a particular dance with.

Mrs Hurt’s daughter-in-law, Judith dressed me for the Ball in a long white dress with a wide gold sash around my waist and a gold and white turban on my head. When I saw myself in the mirror I thought I looked like Annie Harvey, the Obeah woman in Kingston, but Mrs Hurt and Mrs Attwood said I looked lovely.

When the first huntsman arrived he gave me his programme. Because he was wearing a bright red jacket I said to him “I think you are in the wrong place”

“
This is the Hunt Ball isn’t it?”

“
Yes, but you’re supposed to be in an evening suit”.

“
My dear girl, the huntsmen come to the Hunt Ball wearing their red hunting jacket” he said.

No one had told me that the huntsmen’s jackets were red and that was the correct dress code for them. Captain and Mrs Hurt were coming down the spiral staircase and she looked lovely in a lilac evening dress.

“
What’s the matter Carmen”.

“
I was just telling this gentleman that he was in the wrong place because he’s not dressed properly”

Mrs Hurt was very apologetic to the gentleman and said she should have explained to me that the huntsmen come in their uniform. I felt very foolish, but the gentleman and Mrs Hurt were very nice about it.

Oh it was a wonderful sight, all those handsome men in their red hunting jackets and the ladies looking beautiful in their evening dresses.

******

Our last day:
This morning Captain Hurt gave Marie a present beautifully wrapped and tied with a pink ribbon. The present was so big I had to help her open it and out came a whopping big doll. She was the most beautiful doll I’ve ever seen and she was as big as Marie.

Marie was speechless, but beaming.

“
Susie”, she finally said, hugging the doll tight. It was a wonderful present from the Hurts and made my little girl very happy.

Mrs Hurt gave me a month’s holiday pay and arranged for Marie to go into a nursery in Basingstoke for two weeks so that I could have a holiday and promised to give me a good reference for my next position.

“
Carmen, I don’t want to pry into your personal life and I only do so now because I’m fond of you and Marie, but for Marie’s sake don’t you think you should contact your family”.

Mrs Hurt had no idea I had already seen Sydney, nor did she know I had an Aunt in London. I had never discussed anything about my family with the Hurts.

“
I don’t think you realise how hard life could become for you both. There are many people, including the authorities, who consider an unmarried mother unfit to bring up a child and may even try and take her from you”.

I was deeply touched by her concern for us and wanted to hug her, like I would Mammie, but I was a servant and that wouldn’t have been acceptable, so I just said

“
I will think about it”.

I hope Mrs Hurt is wrong. I think my guardian angel has returned to watch over me and Marie. We have been lucky so far; we have met nice people like the Sister Pateman and Sister Warner at the nursery, the Hurts, even Matron and Miss Franks have been very, very, kind.

******

Mammie (Becky’s) Diary

We have moved to a smaller house in Tremaine Road and, in the end, I was quite pleased to leave Mission House. The memories are haunting me.

Poor Sydney he feels he has let me down not bringing Olga home. He says she looked smart, but tired and her demeanour had changed. Her sparkle had gone and he thinks there is something wrong, but she’s not saying what it is. When he asked Martha if she knew, she said she hadn’t seen Olga for months. If something has happened to her in England and she feels she cannot talk to me about it, then I have not done a good job as a mother. I’ve let her down, otherwise she would be here knowing there is nothing she could ever do or say that could make me love her less. But at least I know she’s alive.

Last night the tots and I went to the Holy Trinity Church and together with Father Butler we prayed to St Anthony to bring Olga safely home.

When Sydney visited Martha he said the first thing she asked him for was money, but he refused to give her any. That surprised me. He says she’s always asking for money and thinks he has an endless supply and, then, almost as an afterthought he added,

“I don’t think she was very nice to Olga”.

I wonder if Martha has something to do with Olga not coming home”.

In fact, he says he doesn’t want any of the girls to stay with Martha in future because it is not a very nice area now. I doubt that any of the girls will want to go to London; it must be quite dangerous living there with unexploded bombs and much of it looking like a vast building site.

How is Olga managing with the winter cold, I wonder? I remember how the harsh the weather could be and how the temperature could drop to freezing. And what if it snows and there are blizzards, can she keep warm? Britain is still recovering from the war and we know they are still short of certain foods and fuel. It’s strange, but I don’t think I could bear to be cold now after living here for so long.

******

Olga’s Diary

Dear Diary

Mrs Hammell
: Went back to Massey’s Agency to look for a job looking after children. I don’t want to cook any more. I had an interview with a Mrs Gloria Hammell, a widow, and explained that I was a widow too and that my husband, who had been an air force pilot during the war, had been shot down by the Germans over France. She was very sympathetic.

Mrs Hammell has a daughter called Madeline and she wants a live-in mother’s help for her daughter because she has very weak legs and they needed to be rubbed daily with olive oil. I told her about Marie and explained that, although she wasn’t at school yet, she would be starting soon. Mrs Hammell said if she offered me the job she was happy for Marie to come with me as she thought it would be very nice for Madeline to have a companion to play with.

I showed her my reference from Mrs Hurt but she said she would telephone Mrs Hurt and speak with her personally and would let me know about the position when she had made a decision.

Mrs Hammell has a lovely 3-bedroomed flat in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea and Marie and I have a nice room with a big double bed. It’s a good job because all I do is look after Madeline and Marie being there makes it easy because they play together nicely.

Madeline is a kind little girl and doesn’t mind sharing her toys with Marie. I take the girls to Hyde Park quite a bit and when it’s hot they paddle in the Serpentine or sometimes we will have a picnic.

When I first arrived Madeline was very pale and thin, but she is blossoming because we are outdoors so much. She has more colour in her cheeks and her legs are getting stronger. Mrs Hammell is very pleased.

When the three of us are out together, it’s funny, people always assume I am the girls’ nurse. I don’t bother to tell them that the pretty dark haired one is my daughter.

As a special treat I sometimes take them to the London Zoo. There are hummingbirds there and the sight of them makes me homesick. The girls get very excited when it comes to feeding time and they like to throw nuts at the monkeys. Sometimes we go to Regents Park but I avoid the bench I used to sit on, the one I was sitting on when I met Joanne. I try not to

think too much about my previous life. It’s over, gone, I have a different life now.

One day when I was rubbing Madeline’s legs I told Mrs H how in Jamaica we rub white rum on our joints to ease the pain and would she like me to do the same for Madeline.

“
Are you mad, Carmen? What do you think people will say if my four year old daughter goes around smelling of rum”.

I hadn’t thought of that.

I mentioned to Mrs H I was thinking of sending Marie to a private boarding school and could she recommend one.

“
When you told me Marie would be starting school, I didn’t realise you meant a private one.”

She was surprised by my enquiry and I’m not sure if she believed me.

So I told her my late husband left me some money for Marie’s education. But the truth is I’ve saved enough for the first two terms, and hopefully I can save more from my wages. I don’t spend much here.

Mrs H recommended a Catholic convent in Dartford, Kent which would be easy for me to get to from London. The way I see it what happened to me was not Marie’s fault and her education is important and she is entitled to have the best I can give her. That’s what Mammie did for us and even though Sydney helped out, Mammie took in lots of lodgers when we were young just so we could all go to Alpha Academy which was the best Catholic school in Kingston.

And Marie is definitely not going to end up like me, working as a servant.

******

Dear Diary

So cold:
This is what it must be like at the North Pole. It snows all the time and the temperature is freezing. Last night is was -9°C and it said on the wireless that the sea froze at Margate.

The Prime Minister says everyone must save fuel. Things must be bad because people are being sent home from work and told to go to bed to keep warm.

The army is being used to clear roads blocked by snow and drop food from helicopters to farms and little villages in the countryside and some old people are dying because they cannot keep warm. Isn’t that terrible?