The Clippie Girls (28 page)

Read The Clippie Girls Online

Authors: Margaret Dickinson

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #Romance, #20th Century, #General

BOOK: The Clippie Girls
10.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I bet you did, Grace thought sourly. She was tempted to turn round and give the woman the rough edge of her tongue, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t deny the truth and she couldn’t hide it forever. It would all come out soon enough. Maybe it would be better to tell their loquacious neighbour and get it over with. But her innate longing for privacy still held Grace back from confiding in Letty. With a sigh she said at last, ‘She’s not been well. She’ll be better soon, but being a clippie is not the sort of job you can do if you’re under the weather.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Letty said, disappointed that that appeared to be all Grace was prepared to tell her. Letty had the shrewd suspicion that there was a lot more to Peggy’s mysterious illness than Grace was letting on. ‘Well, I hope she’s soon feeling better.’

‘She will be,’ Grace said shortly. In about a couple of months’ time, she added silently, and then no doubt you’ll all know the truth.

Another pause, as if she was waiting for more, but when nothing further was forthcoming, Letty sighed and said, ‘I’m just off into town. D’you want owt?’

‘That’s kind of you to offer,’ Grace said, deliberately softening her tone. She didn’t want to fall out with her neighbours. You never knew when you might need their help, she told herself, though she was dreading the time when Letty would gleefully spread the gossip about that uppity Mrs Booth’s family. It was bound to happen: Letty Bradshaw would not miss such a golden opportunity. ‘But I’ll have to go myself later. I can’t expect you to do all the shopping for a family this size.’ Soon to be one more, she thought regretfully. Skilfully, she turned the conversation to Letty’s own family. ‘By the way, how’re yours lads in the forces? Have you heard lately?’

Letty’s face crumpled and suddenly Grace realized that maybe, just now, the woman’s interest in her neighbours’ affairs had as much to do with taking her mind off her own worries as with being a notorious gossipmonger. ‘We’ve heard from Walter and Bertie last week, but there’s been nothing from Simon. I’m worried sick, Mrs Booth.’

‘It must be difficult for them to send off letters when they’re at sea for weeks on end. I’m sure you’ll hear soon.’ Grace didn’t add ‘one way or the other’, though she was thinking it.

Mary enjoyed her work as a clippie, nearly as much as Rose did. She loved the banter with the passengers – even the grumpy ones. The cold weather didn’t bother her and she’d always been quick at mental arithmetic.

‘You’re a natural,’ Laurence told her when he joined her one day in the canteen and sat down opposite her. Ignoring the amused glances of the canteen staff, he lowered his voice to ask, ‘How’s Peggy?’

‘Surprisingly well, considering she’s shut up in either the cold front room or in her bedroom,’ Mary said dryly, with a sudden need to have someone of her own age to confide in. Even in the crowded household, Mary sometimes felt very lonely.

Laurence raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? Is that her choice?’

Mary pressed her lips together as sudden tears threatened. Seeing her distress, Laurence said, ‘Oh, Mary – my dear.’

At the kindness in his tone, the tears spilled over. Laurence fished in his pocket for a clean, white handkerchief and passed it to her. She mopped her face, aware that the canteen staff were watching them, yet trying to look as if they weren’t.

Shakily Mary said, ‘How silly of me. I’m not normally the weepy sort.’

‘You’re having a very trying time. We all are, but you have an extra burden to bear now. What’s this about Peggy keeping to her room?’

‘It’s my mother. When – when we first found out about Peggy being pregnant, Mother threatened to throw her out. If she had, I’d have gone too. I have to stand by her, Laurence – sorry, Mr Bower—’

‘It’s all right,’ he reassured her swiftly, ‘there’s no one to overhear. Though,’ he added in an attempt to lighten her mood, ‘we are getting one or two inquisitive looks from the staff. But never mind them – go on.’

‘She relented enough to say Peggy can stay, but she won’t speak to her or even have her in the same room. And Rose is as bad.’

‘Oh dear, I am sorry.’

Mary blew her nose and promised to launder and return his handkerchief. Laurence shrugged as if it was of no matter.

‘And I’m sorry to burden you with my worries when you have enough of your own.’ Hastily, for fear he should think Peggy had betrayed his confidence, she added, ‘With all the responsibility you shoulder at work.’

‘Mm.’ Laurence met her gaze and appeared to be considering something. At last, he said softly, ‘I don’t expect Peggy told you because I know how discreet she is, but I have two sons both serving in the forces.’ He went on to tell Mary exactly what he’d told Peggy, but tactfully Mary didn’t display any foreknowledge.

‘How dreadful for you to have no one at home to share your worries,’ Mary said sympathetically. It was common knowledge that Laurence was a widower.

He smiled and murmured, ‘It is hard, but now perhaps I could talk to you sometimes.’

‘Of course.’

‘And don’t you be afraid to ask me if there’s any way in which I can help. Promise?’

‘I promise.’ Suddenly Mary didn’t feel so lonely any more.

It was whilst they were out walking one evening at the beginning of June that Peggy felt the first signs of labour pain.

‘We must get you home,’ Mary said anxiously, but Peggy was doubled over with a spasm.

‘You all right, lass?’ A man’s voice came out of the darkness. Mary’s heart sank for she recognized the voice: Tom Bradshaw. He was the last man on earth she’d have wished to encounter just at this moment. Now Letty would soon know and the news would spread up and down the street like wildfire. But beggars can’t be choosers, she thought, and they needed help. He was a strong, well-built man and could probably have carried the heavily pregnant Peggy all the way home if necessary. But all the girl needed was a strong arm.

Tom, it seemed, had summed up the situation quickly. ‘Here, love, lean on me. Going to the hospital, is she?’

‘No, no, we need to get back home.’

‘Ah, I see. Want me to get the midwife for you, Mrs Sylvester?’

‘No, no – I . . .’ What on earth was she thinking? Word would be out soon enough now, if it wasn’t already. Her daughter needed help and they needed to call the midwife quickly. Mary took a deep breath. ‘That’s kind of you, Mr Bradshaw, but I’ll send one of the girls.’

He nodded. ‘Time you called me “Tom”, I reckon, don’t you? We’ve lived next door to one another long enough now and shared some scary moments just lately.’

Whilst Grace had held all her neighbours at arm’s length, the war had pushed them closer together and now her family was going to need all the friends they could get. Whilst she feared that Letty would revel in the telling of Peggy Sylvester’s downfall, Mary was not one to reject kindness. And Tom Bradshaw was being kind.

They arrived at the front door of their home and he insisted on helping Peggy into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.

‘There, lass, you lie there and your mam’ll send one of your sisters for t’midwife.’

As Mary went downstairs with Tom, he paused at the front door. ‘Mary, lass – I can call you Mary, can’t I? – you don’t need to worry about me telling t’wife about this.’ He smiled. ‘Letty’s a grand lass and a good wife and mother, but I know she likes to be the first with a juicy bit of gossip. But not this time.’ He put his forefinger to his lips. ‘She’ll not hear this from me, though I am afraid it’ll get out soon enough.’

‘It will, Tom, but thank you. You’ve been very kind.’

‘If you do need any more help, just knock on our door. Promise me now?’

Mary nodded, her eyes filling with tears at his unexpected thoughtfulness.

Once she had let him out of the front door again and drawn the blackout curtain, she hurried through to the living room. ‘Rose – go to the phone box’ – she scrabbled in her handbag to find a piece of paper on which she’d written the midwife’s name, address and telephone number – ‘we need the midwife right now.’

She held out the paper, but when Rose made no move to get up, Mary said impatiently, ‘Rose – did you hear me? We need the midwife. Peggy’s gone into labour.’

Slowly Rose looked up from the book she was reading. ‘She got herself into this mess without my help, she can deal with it herself now.’

Mary stared at her, appalled by her daughter’s callousness. Myrtle, sitting at the table with her homework, was wide-eyed. ‘Is the baby coming, Mam?’

‘Yes, yes. We must get the midwife.’

Rose dropped her eyes and pretended to carry on reading her book, though her heart was thumping.

Myrtle jumped up and held out her hand for the piece of paper. ‘I’ll go. I’ll need some money though, Mam.’

‘Oh yes, of course. Sorry.’ Again, Mary delved into her handbag and brought out a handful of change. ‘There, that should be enough.’

Myrtle rushed out of the back door; it was quicker than fighting with the blackout curtain over the front door. They heard her footsteps pounding across the small back yard and then the crash of the back gate. Mary was still staring at Rose’s bowed head as if she couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Quietly she said, ‘I’m ashamed of you, Rose.’ Then she turned and hurried back upstairs to Peggy.

In the living room, the silence grew heavier between Rose and her grandmother. The girl’s face had flamed red with shame and even the older woman was silently struggling with her own mixed emotions. Upstairs her great-grandchild was about to come into the world and yet she could not bring herself to make it welcome.

Myrtle arrived back breathless and anxious. ‘Her husband says she’s out on another call and he doesn’t know when she’ll be back. Gran, what shall I do?’

‘Go upstairs and tell your mother. She might have the name of someone else.’

Myrtle ran upstairs, two steps at a time, and burst into the bedroom her mother and Peggy shared. She stopped in the doorway, shocked by the scene before her. Peggy was writing in agony on the bed, her knees pulled up, her legs spread apart. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead.

‘The baby’s coming so fast. How long will she be, Myrtle?’

‘She’s out and her husband doesn’t know when she’ll be back.’

Peggy threw back her head in a yowl of pain and fear.

‘Did you leave a message? Did you tell him it was urgent?’

Myrtle nodded, but her gaze was riveted on her sister. ‘What can I do to help, Mam?’

‘Go round to the Bradshaws—’

‘The Bradshaws!’ Even at this moment, Myrtle was surprised. Surely, her mother didn’t really want any member of that family here at a time like this?

‘Ask for Mr Bradshaw. He helped us home just now. He’ll help us.’

‘Right,’ Myrtle said and ran downstairs again, through the living room towards the back door.

‘What’s happening?’ Rose asked.

‘As if you care,’ Myrtle shot back at her, but she kept on moving, through the kitchen and out of the back door again.

As a loud scream sounded above them, both Rose and Grace glanced at the ceiling and then at each other.

Myrtle was back in minutes, followed by Tom and Letty Bradshaw. Grace raised her eyebrows, but said nothing as Myrtle led the two of them up the stairs. ‘I’ve had five myself,’ Letty was saying, ‘there’s nowt to it.’

But when she entered the bedroom and saw Peggy’s agony, even Letty Bradshaw paled. ‘Oh lor’. Tom – ’ she grasped her husband’s arm – ‘you’d better get an ambulance. I can’t cope wi’ this.’

Tom lumbered down the stairs again and out of the front door, leaving the curtain undrawn and the door wide open in his haste.

‘Oi,’ came the familiar shout from the local air-raid precautions warden who, as luck would have it, was walking down the street, pushing his bicycle. ‘What about that light, Tom Bradshaw?’

Now Tom had no choice but to let the world know what was happening inside his neighbour’s house. ‘Lass is having a bairn and it don’t look too good. Midwife’s not available and we need an ambulance.’

‘Right, then,’ Joe Bentley said. ‘You get off to the phone box. I’ll see to the light.’

As Tom ran up the road, the warden approached the Booth household. He stepped inside, closed the front door and pulled the curtain across the door. Opening the door into the living room, he was surprised to see two women sitting there, reading quietly as if nothing was happening. Even he could now hear the screaming from upstairs.

‘Need any help? Tom’s gone to phone for an ambulance, but he’d left the door wide open and a light showing.’

The older woman looked up. ‘Going to fine us, are you, Mr Bentley?’

Joe Bentley shook his head but pursed his lips as he said, ‘Not on this occasion, Mrs Booth – in the circumstances. But just mind you’re more careful in future.’

As a piercing scream sounded again Joe Bentley winced, but the two women just carried on reading. He turned away, shaking his head as he made his way back through the hall and let himself out of the house.

‘There’s nowt so queer as folk,’ he muttered to himself.

He waited outside the house until he saw Tom hurrying back up the street.

‘There’s – no ambulance – for about – half an hour,’ Tom panted as he reached Joe. ‘I don’t reckon that lass’s chances, or the bairn’s, if she doesn’t get some proper help real quick.’

Whilst the two men stood helplessly outside the house, wondering what more they could do, upstairs Letty had taken charge. ‘Myrtle love, go downstairs and get the kettle and some pans of water boiling. Now, Peggy, prop yourself up. Breathe in and out steadily, lass, it’ll help with the pain.’

‘Mam, oh, Mam, it hurts so . . . Aaah.’

‘It’s a big baby,’ Letty whispered to Mary, ‘that’s ’er trouble. She’s going to be torn summat terrible if that midwife or t’ambulance don’t come quickly. Go down and see if Tom’s come back.’

Mary found the two men still standing outside the house.

‘Tom, did you get an ambulance?’

‘It’ll be half an hour at least, lass.’

‘Oh no!’ Mary breathed. ‘She’s in so much pain and Letty thinks the baby’s getting distressed too. Whatever are we going to do?’

‘Letty will know what to do, love,’ Tom tried to reassure Mary, but in truth he was not feeling so confident inside. His wife could deal with straightforward births – none better – but get a bit of a complication, then Letty wasn’t qualified.

Other books

Nocturnes by Kendall Grey
Breaking the Wrong by Read, Calia
Libra by Don Delillo
The Day Trader by Stephen Frey
Where Shadows Dance by Harris, C.S.
Stealing Trinity by Ward Larsen