The Girl With No Name (32 page)

‘Course I do,’ he assured her. ‘Don’t you worry about me, I do all right.’ He finished his soggy cake and then gulped down the rest of his tea. ‘Shall we go, then?’

Naomi finished her tea, saying, ‘Just wanted you to see where Shirley and I work, that’s all. I got today off and Sunday.’ She went to the curtain at the back of the shop and lifting a corner called through, ‘Off now, Shirley. Thanks for saving us a bit of cake.’

They wandered out into the late-autumn sunshine and, hand in hand, sauntered along the village street until they came to an old coaching inn fronting the main road with an arched entry to the stable yard at the back. Above the door swung a creaking wooden sign board, but its name had been painted out in dark red paint. ‘It’s cos it’s called the Feneton Arms,’ Naomi explained when Dan looked up in surprise. ‘All the village names have been painted out cos of German parachutists. The pub would give away the name of the village, see?’

‘Let’s hope that any don’t arrive today,’ said Dan as he pushed open the door. ‘We don’t want no interruptions from Hitler or anyone else today!’

They had a wonderful two days away from the bombing in London. The peace of the evening was broken by the distant sound of planes and anti-aircraft fire, but they were able to sleep in each other’s arms without the night sky raining down death and destruction on them.

Now, for the second time, Dan took the train and arrived at Feneton. Again Naomi was there to greet him and in the bitter cold and gathering dusk they hurried straight to the Feneton Arms. Naomi was looking tired, her face pale and drawn. Once upstairs in their room he took her in his arms and kissed her. She returned his kiss and then pulled away.

‘Sorry, love,’ she said, ‘got to sit down. Got a bit of back ache.’

Dan was immediately all solicitude. ‘Here,’ he said, leading her to the dressing-table chair, the only chair in the room. ‘Or do you want a proper lie-down?’

Naomi smiled. ‘No,’ she insisted, ‘I’ll be fine in a minute, it’s probably just that your train was a bit late and I was standing out in the cold for a while. I’ll be fine once I get warmed up again.’

When she felt a little better she suggested that they go downstairs to the bar and get a drink. ‘After all,’ she said, ‘it’s Christmas Eve. We deserve a drink to start our Christmas.’

They went down to the bar, which was decorated with paper chains made by the landlord’s daughter. They looped across the ceiling, hoops of newspaper painted bright colours. Branches of holly were tucked behind the pictures on the walls and ivy twisted up the narrow pillars supporting the canopy over the bar counter. There was a fire burning in a wide, old-fashioned fireplace, the logs glowing red under the dancing flames. The blackout curtains were already closely drawn and in the yellow lamplight the bar looked warm and welcoming.

Dan bought a beer for himself and a warm port and lemon for Naomi and they took their drinks to a small sofa beside the fire.

‘You all right, Naomi?’ Dan asked. ‘You look a bit peaky.’

‘Just tired,’ Naomi assured him. ‘I always seem to be tired now. Don’t worry,’ she smiled across at him, ‘it’s only cos of the baby. The doctor says it’s to be expected.’

‘Well, just as long as you’re sure.’

The landlady provided them with a supper of liver and onions and they each had another drink by the fire before Naomi said, ‘Sorry, Dan, but I got to go to bed.’

They went upstairs and got undressed. Naomi sighed and flopped down on the bed. Dan looked at her anxiously. ‘You sure you’re all right, girlie?’

‘Still got a bit of back ache,’ Naomi admitted, ‘but I expect it’ll be gone in the morning. Come on, get in beside me and warm me up.’

They snuggled down together under the blankets, Naomi nestled in Dan’s arms, reassured by the warmth of his body next to hers. Dan, feeling her heart beat against him, knew an overwhelming burst of love and murmured softly into her hair, ‘You’re everything to me.’

It was only a couple of hours later that Naomi awoke with a start. A sharp pain knifed through her and she sat up with a gasp. Dan was immediately awake.

‘What? What is it?’

‘A bit of a pain,’ Naomi said when she could say anything at all.

‘What sort of pain?’

‘It’s all right, it’s gone now,’ she said. ‘Go back to sleep.’

Dan lay down again but could feel Naomi lying, tense now, beside him.

It can’t be yet, she was thinking. It isn’t due for another fortnight. Must be a false alarm.

It wasn’t. The next pain, coming about twenty minutes later, just as she had drifted off to sleep again, made her gasp. As the contraction wore off she lay still, trying to calm her thoughts. If the baby was indeed about to put in an appearance, how was she going to get to Ipswich to the hospital? The doctor had assured her everything should go well.

‘But,’ he’d said when she’d last seen him two weeks ago, ‘I think it would be a good idea, Mrs Federman, if you had your baby in hospital since you’re a slightly older mother and this is your first. Means we’re all on hand, just in case.’

‘Just in case what?’ demanded Naomi. ‘I thought you said it was all going to be OK.’

‘I did, and I’m sure it will be, but just in case we’re needed.’ He had put her name down for the maternity unit for a couple of weeks in mid-January. ‘Can’t be sure when the baby will put in an appearance,’ he went on, ‘but this way at least we’ll be expecting you.’

Well, thought Naomi now, they certainly aren’t expecting me on Christmas Eve. It must be a false alarm, and she forced herself to try and relax. It wasn’t any use and once she’d struggled through the next contraction she shook Dan awake.

‘Dan,’ she whispered. ‘Danny, I think the baby’s coming.’

Dan sat up with a start. ‘What did you say?’

‘The baby. I think it’s coming. I’m having contractions.’

‘But it isn’t due for another two or three weeks yet,’ he cried in dismay.

Naomi gave a weak laugh and said, ‘Don’t think it’s going to wait that long.’

Dan leaped out of bed and pulled on his trousers over his pyjamas. ‘What are we going to do? What shall I do?’

‘I’m supposed to go to the hospital, but I think we’d better ring the doctor first. The number’s in my bag. You could ring from downstairs.’

Dan passed Naomi her bag and she pulled out a scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled on it. ‘Here,’ she said, but as he reached to take it from her she doubled up with yet another contraction. ‘Tell him,’ she gasped, ‘tell him they’re coming every fifteen minutes or so and ask him if we should try and get to the hospital.’

Dan snatched the paper and ran to the door. ‘Won’t be long,’ he promised. ‘Back in a minute.’ He ran downstairs to where he’d seen a phone behind the bar, but when he reached it he found a metal grille had been pulled down over the bar and locked so that the phone was inaccessible.

‘Shit!’ He ran back upstairs and along the landing to a door marked
Private
at the far end. He banged on it hard with both his fists. At first there was no sound in answer to his knock and he beat on the door again, shouting, ‘Open up. Please open up.’

After a moment the door creaked open and the landlord peered out on to the landing. ‘What’s up?’ he demanded grumpily. ‘It’s after midnight, for Christ’s sake!’

‘My wife,’ cried Dan, ‘the baby’s coming. I got to ring the doctor.’

The landlord turned back and shouted up the stairs, ‘Jenny, need you down here, sharpish!’

Moments later the landlady, wearing an old dressing gown and with her hair in an untidy plait, appeared beside her husband.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

‘Got to phone the doctor,’ insisted Dan. ‘My wife’s gone into labour.’

‘Right.’ Jenny immediately took charge. ‘Jim, go down and show him the phone. Got the number?’ and when Dan nodded she said, ‘Right, go and ring then, I’ll go to your wife.’

When Dan came back from the phone he found Naomi sitting up in bed, gripping Jenny’s hands as she dealt with another contraction.

‘What did he say?’ she asked as the pain subsided.

‘He’s on his way,’ Dan replied. ‘Says you’re to stay put.’ He turned to Jenny and said, ‘Dr Phelps’ll be here in a minute. He said please can you find some clean towels and put some water on to boil.’

‘Of course.’ Jenny got to her feet and Dan took her place at the bedside. Jenny despatched Jim to put the kettle on and wait downstairs to let the doctor in while she went to a cupboard on the landing and pulled out some towels and an extra couple of pillows.

The contractions were coming regularly now and as each grabbed her, Naomi gripped Dan’s hands, trying not to cry out.

‘It’ll be all right,’ he soothed, ‘the doc’s on his way, it’ll be all right.’ But as another contraction took hold he was beginning to wonder where on earth the doctor could be.

Moments later Dr Phelps appeared at the door, bag in hand, and came straight across to the bed. Jenny had helped Naomi to move on to a folded towel and had propped her up with extra pillows. He looked at the anxious father and said, ‘You’ll be best off downstairs, just ask Mrs Dow to come up, will you?’

Dan bent forward and kissed Naomi on the cheek. ‘I’ll be just downstairs, girlie,’ he said. ‘You’ll be OK now the doc’s here.’

He left the room with relief. He had felt so helpless in the face of Naomi’s pain. There was nothing he could do to alleviate it except hold her hand.

Better, he thought, to be out of the way now the doc was here to do his stuff.

Jenny Dow bustled upstairs and as she went into the bedroom, she gave Dan a smile and shut the door firmly behind her. Dan stood on the landing for a moment or two, but when he heard Naomi cry out, he couldn’t bear it and ran downstairs.

He and Jim sat at the bar and Jim poured them each a glass of brandy. ‘Need a good stiff drink at a time like this,’ Jim insisted. ‘We’ve got a kid, Gwen, she’s called. I remember when she were born, eight she is, but I remember that night like yesterday.’

It seemed for ever to Dan before Jenny came down again and said that things were fine but would be a little time yet, and wasn’t it exciting, oh, and Happy Christmas!

Jim went back to bed and Dan sat by the dying embers of the fire, dozing fitfully. He woke with a start when Jenny reappeared in the bar and threw back the blackout curtains; it was daylight outside.

‘Congratulations, Mr Federman,’ she said with a tired smile. ‘You have a son.’

‘A son,’ echoed Dan. ‘And Naomi? How’s Naomi?’

‘Tired, as you’d expect,’ came the reply, ‘but she’s fine. The doctor’ll be down in a minute, then you’ll be able to go up and see them. I’m putting the kettle on for some tea, would you like some?’

‘A son! We’ve got a son!’ breathed Dan, hardly daring to believe it.

It was about ten minutes later that Dr Phelps came downstairs. He walked wearily into the bar and shook Dan’s hand. ‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘Your son decided to put in rather an early appearance, so he’s a bit on the small side, but he’ll be fine.’

‘Is she all right?’ Dan asked. ‘Is Naomi all right?’

‘Yes, she is, but she needs a rest. I suggest you take her up a cup of tea, admire your son and then let them both get some sleep.’

‘Thank you, doctor,’ Dan said. ‘Thank you for all you did, coming out in the night, an’ that. Don’t know what we’d have done without you.’

Jenny appeared at the door with a tray of teacups. She poured two for Dan and he hurried upstairs with them. He pushed the door open and edged his way in. Naomi was sitting up in bed, pale, but radiant. Her hair had been brushed and tied back off her face and she greeted him with a dazzling smile. Lying beside her in a drawer from the chest in the corner was a small bundle of... something.

‘Look, Danny,’ she whispered. ‘Look at our son. Isn’t he beautiful?’

Dan put down the tea and peered into the drawer. The bundle was tiny, swathed in a white cloth of some sort, with only his head poking out and a tiny fist thrust into his mouth. He had a dark quiff of hair standing on the top of his head and Dan, staring down at him, began to smile, truly believing now that he was indeed a father and this scrap of humanity was his son, his responsibility.

He bent down and very gently placed a kiss on the baby’s head before going round the bed to gather his beloved wife into his arms.

‘Careful,’ she admonished. ‘I’m a bit sore.’

‘Sorry,’ he said and pulling up the chair, sat down beside the bed.

Together they sat and drank their tea, looking at the miracle that was their son.

‘We haven’t even got a name for him,’ Dan said at last. ‘We should’ve had a name ready. What do you think?’

‘I think I’d like to call him Nicholas,’ Naomi said.

‘Nicholas,’ repeated Dan. ‘OK, but why Nicholas?’

‘It’s Dr Phelps’s name. I asked him, because if he hadn’t come so quickly we might not have a baby.’

‘Nicholas. Nicholas Federman. It’s a good name,’ said Dan. He went back round to the drawer and looking down said, ‘Hallo, Nick, mate.’

‘Hanau’s in Germany. My name is Lisa Becker and I come from Hanau. I came on a train.’

For a moment the three adults stood in silence, stunned as they realised the import of what Charlotte had actually said. She had remembered who she was and where she came from; but was that all, some fragments of her earlier life, or had she remembered everything?

Charlotte’s recollection of Harry was a double-edged sword. She stood for a moment in the vicarage drawing room as her mind processed what she’d just said. Hanau. Mutti, Papa and Martin. They all came flooding back to her, her beloved family trapped in Germany and disappeared. The letter marked GONE AWAY. Her face crumpled and without a word she turned and ran out of the room. Avril made to follow her, but the vicar put a restraining hand on her arm and she stood aside, allowing Miss Edie to go.

Unaware of what was going on round them the Dawson children were playing with the toys they’d received. Paul had a football, which he couldn’t use in the house, but the girls had been given a glove puppet each, a dog and a cat, and at David’s suggestion they were going to make up a puppet show. All three disappeared behind the settee and there was great giggling.