Songbird (10 page)

“Is
it all right?” I asked eagerly.  He was sitting in the armchair by the fire and
I was on the floor at his knee.  I watched him lift out the stethoscope.

“All
right!  This is a Galante!  You can’t buy a better one and it’s the most expensive
one on the market.”  He frowned.  “Oh, Issy, I hope you haven’t spent all your
money.”

“You
deserve the best.  You’ve worked so hard.”

“But
I thought you were saving for your fees?”

“I
am, but you’ll be a doctor before I’m an opera singer.”

He
licked his lips and I saw him quickly glance at the watch pinned on my bodice.

“Well,
thank you.”  He bent and kissed my cheek.  “I’ll save a few lives with this.” 
Danny brought his wooden horse over to us and I took it from him.  “Pull his
shirt up and I’ll listen to his heart.”  I did what he asked and he put the
stethoscope over my baby’s chest.  He listened for about fifteen seconds and
then smiled.  “Absolutely perfect.  A really strong heart.  As strong as a
horse.”

Danny
said ‘horsy’ and started to neigh before galloping round the room.  I laughed
with delight but then saw Gwilym and Nan exchange worried glances.  I knew what
they were thinking.  A valuable watch, an expensive stethoscope.  They were
starting to worry about me, but I felt happy and I brushed off their concerns
as inconsequential.  Everything was going to be wonderful. 

But things
weren’t wonderful one week later.  November arrived and I had planned to visit
Mrs Holland on the fifth.  That would be the date when I was three weeks late.  It
was two days before that I awoke feeling nauseated.  I lay quietly, trying to
steady my sickness.  It was still dark and I couldn’t see Danny sleeping in his
cot.  He was starting to sleep longer now, sometimes until gone six o’clock so
I assumed it mustn’t be six yet.  The nausea persisted and then I couldn’t hold
it any longer.  I jumped out of bed and bent over the chamber pot, retching and
choking.  It was painful and I gasped.

“Mama,
Mama,” said Danny from his cot.

“Stay
where you are.  Mama will be there soon.”  I retched again.

Danny
could now say quite a few words, but he understood almost everything that was
said to him.  Usually when I told him to do something, he was very good at
obeying me, but it was dark and he was frightened.

“Mama!
Mama!” he cried and I could hear the terror in his voice.

But I
couldn’t leave the pot.  I knelt on the floor and I knew the noises I was
making would alarm him.

“Mama’s
coming,” I panted.  But it was too late.  I heard Danny climbing out of the
cot.  “No, Danny!  Stay where you are!”

He
ran in the direction of my voice and there was a sickening bang and then a
thud, followed by a terrible silence.  Sick or not I had to get to my baby and
I hurried to the drawer and found the box of matches.  With shaking hands I lit
the mantle of the gas lamp and then gave a cry of horror.  Danny was lying on
the floor, a large cut to his forehead and blood pouring from the wound after
colliding with the edge of the dressing table.  I picked him up in my arms and
let out a scream as I crashed through the door and onto the landing.

Nan
hurried out of her bedroom, her hair in curlers.  “Dear Lord, what happened?”

“He
climbed out of bed,” I sobbed.  “It was dark and he ran into the dressing
table.”  I held the limp little body in my arms.  “Oh, God!  Please let him be
all right.”  I ran downstairs with Nan close behind and lay him on the couch,
rubbing his arms, his legs, trying to wake him up.  Blood covered his face. 
“Please, please, wake up,” I begged, tears pouring down my cheeks.

Nan
ran into the kitchen and brought back a tea towel.  “Press this over the
wound.  It will help it stop bleeding.  I’ll go and fetch Doctor Hemmings.” 
She slipped her coat over her nightgown and rushed out of the door and into the
bitter cold darkness.

Doctor
Hemmings lived in the next street and I knew it wouldn’t take Nan long to reach
his house.  I waited anxiously, pressing the tea towel on the wound, constantly
caressing my little boy’s face.  Suddenly his eyes flickered and he let out a
wail.  And then he was in my arms, clinging onto me and crying with fright.  By
the time Nan arrived back with the doctor, Danny was sitting up.  Doctor
Hemmings rushed in with Nan on his heels and I could see he had pulled on his
clothes in a hurry.  He sat on the couch and examined the patient.

After
a few minutes of looking into his eyes and feeling his head, he gave a sigh. 
“He obviously knocked himself out with the blow.  But children are very
resilient, they can bounce back from a fall a lot more easily than an adult
can.  I’ll need to stitch that cut, though.”

Nan
brought some hot water from the kitchen and I carefully washed my baby’s face
so that the doctor could see the wound clearly.  He opened his bag and brought
out the instruments he would need as well as a gauze square and bandage.  He
put three neat stitches in the wound, applied the gauze and wrapped the bandage
round his patient’s small head.

“He
looks like a wounded soldier,” I said sadly.

Danny
gave me a bright smile and tried to climb off the couch.  I helped him down and
he became engrossed in his toys.

“He’ll
be all right,” nodded the doctor.  “He’ll probably have a scar but nothing to
worry about.  Look he’s already wanting to play.”

I
breathed a sigh of relief.  That incident had frightened me and from that
moment on I would become even more protective of my son.  But it had also made
me angry.  The child growing inside me had caused my son a serious injury and I
would never let it happen again.  The developing life meant nothing to me
except a means to an end.

CHAPTER
TEN

“H
ow
severe is your sickness?”  Mrs Holland peered at me over gold-rimmed
spectacles.

“I’ve
been sick the last three mornings,” I said. 

She
patted my knee.  “Well, you’re three weeks late and you have morning sickness,
so that can only mean one thing.”

“And
that’s what I’m here for,” I said sullenly.

It
was strange to be back in Mrs Holland’s pink and white parlour that had once
seemed so familiar to me.  Now I felt like a stranger.

“It
will be a few months yet before I can physically verify your pregnancy, but I
think we can assume you’re
enceinte
.”  She smiled pleasantly and rose
from her seat.  Walking over to the bureau, she went inside and found a piece
of paper.  I saw her take a pen and scribble something on it and then she sat
back down again studying the paper carefully.  “Now, I want you to take this
list to the pharmacy, so that he can make up these tonics and pills.”  She
passed the list to me.

I
glanced down it and noticed a few things I recognised such as ginger and cod
liver oil.  But then at the bottom I saw St John’s wort.

“Isn’t
St John’s wort for melancholy?” I asked in surprise.

She
nodded.  “Yes, my dear.  And a few weeks of it won’t go amiss with you.  I can
see that you are rather low in spirit.  But that must be expected.”

I
couldn’t see why.  I hadn’t felt like that with Danny.

“Well,
I must assume it’s for my own good.”

“The
ginger will help your sickness and everything else is to build up your health.”

“I’m
quite healthy.”

“You
certainly are, my dear.  But the baby will take everything it needs and you’ll
need a little help along the way.”  She leaned forward and pressed a guinea
into my hand.  “Take this for your expenses.”

I
felt indignant.  “I can pay my own way thank you.”

“Oh
dear, we are snappish this morning.”  Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

I
grimaced.  “I’m sorry, Mrs Holland.  I’m tired and out of sorts.”

“So I
see.  But I’ve been instructed that you should be looked after financially as
well as medically.  You’ll receive a guinea every time you visit me to cover
your costs.  Mr Karl and his good lady wish it that way.”  I started at the
mention of his name.  I looked across at the drinks’ cabinet and in my mind’s
eye I could see him standing there, a glass of brandy in his hand, smiling at
me.  Mrs Holland continued with her instructions.  “From this moment on I want
you to eat plenty of fruit and vegetables, including liver.”  I pulled a face.
“Yes, liver.  And the best meat you can buy.  If you need the doctor for
anything then you must send the bill to me.  It doesn’t matter what it’s for. 
Is that understood?”

I
nodded.  “Will you be telling Karl and…his wife about this visit.”

“Of
course.  They want to know every detail of your pregnancy.”  She picked up the
diary propped up against her chair.  “I want to see you in a month.  Goodness,
we’ll be thinking of Christmas by then.”  She reached across and squeezed my
hand.  “I know we shouldn’t pre-empt anything, but I’m going to tell them that
you seem to be showing the early signs of pregnancy and all being well, they
will have a baby in the summer.”

I followed
Stephanie up the aisle the following morning, feeling wretched.  The sickness
was far worse than I had had with Danny and I prayed that this affliction would
pass soon.  I had heard of it lasting all through the nine months and the very
thought filled me with despair.

Stephanie
looked wonderful, dressed in Nan’s exquisite creation of ivory brocade.  She
had completed the ensemble with a cloak, in ivory plushette with fur round the hood
and as Stephanie floated up the aisle on the arm of her father, I felt some
relief in that she not only looked beautiful, but also very happy.  She carried
a small white Bible instead of the usual bridal bouquet.  I had been pleased
with my powder blue velvet gown that hugged my figure at the front, but then
fell into an extravagant bustle at the back.  I loved my new hat trimmed with
blue ribbons and artificial flowers that matched those pinned in the bride’s
fair locks.  I decided to put the outfit away and wear it if I ever went out
for the evening.  Not that I went out often.  My social life had come to a
grinding halt since Mr Felix Russell’s departure.  But perhaps one day I would
wear it for a special occasion. 

November
continued and then it was December and my next scheduled visit to Mrs Holland. 
This turned out to be straightforward.  She peered at me through her spectacles
and gently pulled down my lower eyelids checking for anaemia.  She grunted in
satisfaction and then established that I had been taking the tonics as
instructed and eating well.  I felt irritated and thought her an old fusspot,
but then I remembered she was being employed to carry out these duties and was
obliged to do it to her best ability. 

She
pressed another guinea into my hand.  “For your expenses, my dear.”

“You’re
very generous,” I smiled impishly.

“My
lady and gentleman left me plenty of funds and my instructions are that you
mustn’t go short.”

I
glanced round the room and tried to imagine Karl standing there, but my memory
seemed to be fuzzy.

“Are
they pleased?” I asked quietly.

Mrs
Holland nodded.  “I’ve told them that everything is going well and that on your
next visit I’ll be able to examine you and confirm it for certain.”

“Have
you told them when the baby is due?”

She
lifted her chin and chuckled.  “Yes, but I think it was a big mistake.” I
looked at her quizzically and she explained, “I had to stop my lady from
rushing out and buying the layette and all the equipment for the nursery.  I
told her to wait until May at least.”

I
wasn’t interested in
her lady
, or the impending nursery, or the baby
come to that.  But Karl was a different matter.

“Is
he well?”

Mrs
Holland hesitated before answering.  “He’s very well.”

“And
happy?”

“Very
happy.”

I
decided not to ask any more painful questions.

“I
haven’t needed the doctor at all,” I said trying to change the subject.  “But I
hope I don’t need him in the spring otherwise he might notice that I’ve put on
weight.”

“He
won’t do that.”

“Why
not?”

“Arrangements
will be made long before we get to the spring.” 

I
pressed my lips together.  I wasn’t interested in the arrangements either.

Gwilym brought
in a tree and we spent an hour decorating it.  Danny’s eyes sparkled as he
helped me hang gingerbread men on the branches.

“We’ll
have goose and all the trimmings,” I told Nan and Gwilym, trying to sound
enthusiastic.  “And plum pudding afterwards.  But before that I want us all to
go to Covent Garden and see
Die Fledermaus
.  It will be my treat.  Mrs
Hemmings said she’d look after Danny for me.”  I ignored their stunned
expressions and continued,  “And then on New Year’s Eve I thought we would
attend the dinner dance at the Guildhall.”

I
waited for them to respond eagerly but a deathly silence fell.  It was Gwilym
who finally spoke.

“The
theatre tickets will be expensive but how can you afford the dinner dance at
the Guildhall?” 

I
shrugged indifferently.  “Don’t worry about that, you just enjoy yourself.”  I
turned back to the tree, but not before I saw Nan’s pensive look.  “I want this
to be a wonderful Christmas,” I said.  “I want to forget all the pain.”

That
seemed to do it.  Suddenly we were all hugging each other and Danny pushed his
way into the centre of our little group and put his tiny arms round us.

“I
wuv you,” he lisped and I pulled him close, wiping away the tears on my cheeks.

Mrs Holland took
me into the small bedroom where I had had my previous examination.  This time I
lay on the bed and lifted my skirt and petticoat while she pressed her hand
over my womb.

Her
face lit up in a brilliant smile.  “Well, I knew I would feel something but
it’s good to know the baby is actually there.”  Her gentle, podgy fingers
continued their prodding.  “Three months I should say, so we are right on
target.”  She helped me to my feet.  “How’s the sickness?”

“Gone.”

“Excellent.”

Back
in the parlour I heard some mystifying news, although Mrs Holland relayed it to
me as though she was informing me about the weather.  I stared at her in
amazement.

“France? 
I’m to have the baby in France?”

“Yes,
my dear.”

“But
why?”

“Because
it’s away from prying eyes.”

I
felt very subdued.  “Well, I thought I might have to travel somewhere, but I
didn’t think it would be out of England.”

In
fact, I had wondered if I would have the baby at Gibson Place.

“I’ll
be with you, of course.  My instructions are that I must always be on hand.”

I
thought for a moment.  “France is a big country.  Whereabouts in France?”

“I
can’t give you many details at the moment, but all I will tell you is that it’s
in the Bretagne region, near Rennes.”

“When
will this be?”

She
nodded.  “It’s been agreed that we will go at the end of February when you’re
five months gone.  We mustn’t leave it any later or you’ll start to show.”

“I
thought I’d pull my corset tighter,” I said.

Mrs Holland
wagged her finger at me.  “I know the society ladies do that, but not you.  All
right, I don’t mind until we leave, but once in France you’ll wear loose
clothing and no corsets.”

Suddenly,
another thought swept over me.  “Oh no, I can’t leave at the end of February.”

“Why
not, my dear?”

I
nearly blurted it out and only just stopped myself.  “I have a commitment at
the beginning of March.  I can’t leave until after the fourth.”

She
pursed her lips.  “Can you leave on the fifth?”  I nodded slowly.  “Then I
shall book our passage for that day.”

I
left Gibson Place feeling a little more cheerful.  Perhaps a little time in
France would be beneficial, it might even turn out to be enjoyable.  But at
least I wouldn’t miss Danny’s second birthday.  I couldn’t bear to be away from
my little boy on his birthday.

I gave Danny
another mouthful of potato and turnip and a small piece of sausage.  He pushed
my hand away.

“Danny
do,” he said crossly and deftly spooned the food into his mouth without
dropping one bit.  

I
smiled and picked up my teacup, gently sipping the contents.  “I might be going
to France, Nan,” I said carelessly, as if I did it every day.

She
turned sharply in her seat almost knocking the milk jug over.  “France?  Why?”

I
cleared my throat and took in a breath.  “I’ve been offered a position at a
ladies academy near Rennes.”

“Teaching
music?”

“Naturally.”

“Are
we going to live in France?  I never thought I’d go abroad.”

I
shook my head.  “Well, I’m not sure how it’ll turn out.” I gave a strained laugh. 
“I might hate it.  So, there’s no point in us all uprooting and moving until I
know what it’s like.”

“Only
you will be going?”

I
reached out and took her hand.  “Do you mind?  Will it be all right if I leave
Danny in your care?”

She
looked at her nephew and smiled.  “I don’t mind that at all.  But what’s your
plan?”

“I
thought I would stay for his birthday and then leave the day after.  I’ll
write, naturally and if I don’t like it then I’ll come straight home.”

“But
if you do like it, we’ll come out and join you?”

“Let’s
take it one step at a time.  I might not like living in the land of garlic and
frogs’ legs.”

Nan
frowned.  “But what about your plans for the academy and your audition for the
scholarship in July?”

“Do
you think I might get it this year?”

“They
say third time lucky.”

“If
anything, I’ll be back for the scholarship,” I said adamantly.  And then
added,  “I’m sure I’ll be in the next school of students attending the
academy.”  I sipped my tea and tried not to look smug.

Nan
gave a half-smile and her eyes drifted to the gold and diamond fob watch pinned
to the bodice of my dress.

“I’ve booked our
passage from Portsmouth to Brest on the fifth of March, my dear,” said Mrs
Holland at my visit in early February.  “We’ll be sailing on a ship stupidly
named the Dorothy-May.  Now, will you be able to make your own way to Waterloo
Station?”  I nodded.  “Good.  Take a cab to the station and make sure the cabby
lifts your luggage.  No carrying for you.  Take what you think you’ll need for
four months, but don’t worry too much about clothes.  The required garments
will be provided for you.”  She had an afterthought.  “Oh, and pack a small bag
for the sailing.  It will take us two days to cross to Brest and that means an
overnight stay in a cabin.”