Under the Apple Tree (48 page)

She was finally caught a few hundred miles off the coast of

Brittany and hit, first by torpedoes from the Ark Royal, which destroyed her steering gear, and then by shells fired from the numerous ships which were closing in upon her. In

the end, defiant to the last, the German Commander

ordered that she be scuttled, and the great ship turned over

and sank, with the loss of over two thousand men.

Britain breathed a sigh of relief. The seas were a little less

dangerous now, even though there were still plenty of

enemy ships patrolling them, but it was mainly a sense of

justice that caused them to celebrate. An eye for an eye. A

tooth for a tooth. A ship for a ship …

‘It’s just like children squabbling in a playground,’ Cissie

said privately to Polly, but they didn’t repeat these

sentiments to others. April Grove was full of people stopping to congratulate each other on the victory, and you

didn’t want to be thought either a ‘conchie’ or a Fifth

Columnist. It only needed some busybody like Ethel

Glaister to hear you saying something like that, and you

could find yourself in prison!

All the same, Cissie couldn’t help feeling glad that the

men who had killed her Terry were now themselves dead,

even though she knew that in Germany there were a lot of

mothers suffering the same grief as herself. It doesn’t make

sense, she thought. How can I be glad and sorry both at the

same time? But then, nothing about war really made sense.

Jean Foster came round to see them the day after the Bismarck had been sunk. She was pale, red-eyed and nervous, obviously both grieving for Terry and in a panic

over her own situation. She looked a different girl from the

pleasant, smiling shop assistant Dick and Cissie had seen the

day before. She also looked plumper, as if her figure were

blossoming by the day, and she told them she was sure some

of the neighbours were beginning to look at her a bit funny.

‘Mum says I’ve got to go away before they notice,’ she

said, ‘but where can I go? And what shall I do for money? I

don’t know what I’m going to do, I don’t really.’ She sat on

one of the dining chairs and stared at them all fearfully. ‘I’m ever so sorry, Mrs Taylor, for bringing all this trouble on you. I never meant - me and Terry, we just - well, we never thought that just once …’

‘It only takes once,’ Dick said grimly. ‘And we brought

our Terry up to know right from wrong.’

‘Well, I know right from wrong too, Mr Taylor.’ Jean’s

cheeks flushed. ‘We both did. But he was going away the

next day, and we loved each other so much. We just

couldn’t help ourselves.’ She began to cry again. ‘I know

what you think of me - I know what everyone’ll say, that

I’m a hussy and a trollop and all the rest of it - but we

couldn’t help it, we couldn’t, and I tell you what, I’m glad we

did it. I never meant it to be like this and nor did Terry, but I’m glad all the same. At least he was happy when he went

away, and I made him happy.’ She lifted her chin and gave

Dick a challenging stare. ‘He said so. And I’m glad.’

There was a short silence. Dick flushed too but he let his

eyes drop. He glanced down sideways into the empty

fireplace and his jaw clenched. Cissie watched him, biting

her lip, afraid that he was going to give way to a burst of

temper, and Alice seemed to square her shoulders as if she

too were ready to join in the fray. Judy, unable to follow

their words, glanced anxiously at Polly, who gave her a

small smile, as if to say that she thought Jean had got the

better of the angry man.

Dick took a breath. He turned his eyes back to Jean’s

defiant face.

‘All right, young lady,’ he said stonily. ‘So you’re glad.

You’re going to look after yourself then, are you? You won’t

come looking for help from no one else?’

Jean’s defiance faded a little. ‘I’m not saying that, Mr

Taylor,’ she said. ‘I’d do that if I could. And maybe I will, if I can find a way. Maybe I can get a job somewhere, where I

can have my baby with me. I thought it was only right to

come and see you, but I’m not asking for help from anyone

who doesn’t want to give it,’ she added with a flash of spirit.

‘If you don’t want me round here, just say so and I’ll go. It

was only that Judy said you and her mum would like to see

me.’ She began to get up. ‘If you don’t, I’ll be off.’

‘No! No, don’t go.’ Cissie looked at her husband. ‘Dick’ll

be the one to go if he doesn’t want you here, won’t you,

Dick? You can take yourself out for a walk if you don’t want

anything to do with young Jean, but just remember what

Mum said - this is our Terry’s baby, come what may, and

our grandchild, and there’s never going to be another, not

from Terry. All right, they did wrong, but it’s Jean who’s

got to carry the can, and with our Terry not here to stand by

her - and he would have done, you know he would - then

we’ve got to do it in his place. So you’d better make up your mind: are you going to stop here and give the girl some

support with the rest of us, or are you going to make

yourself scarce?’

Their eyes met. The others watched them, knowing that

Cissie rarely opposed Dick like this. Partly because she held

to the view that a wife must love, honour and obey, just as it

said in the marriage service, and partly because she had

always been extra careful with Dick owing to his illness, she

always tried to steer clear of arguments. But this time she

was standing firm, and they could all see that there would be

no moving her.

Dick saw it too. A look of wary admiration came into his

eyes and he seemed to settle back in his chair. He wasn’t

giving in too readily, though.

‘All right,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Have it your own way.

You always do, anyway. Bloke doesn’t have a chance in a

house full of women.’ It was an old war cry, spoken usually

in jest, and they looked at each other a little uncertainly and then decided to ignore the touch of bitterness in his tone

and take it as one now. They smiled and Cissie leaned across

and patted his knee.

‘That’s better,’ she said, and gave him her loving smile.

‘Now we can start to think what to do next.’ She turned to

Jean and asked tentatively, ‘How about your mum, Jean?

How’s she taking it now?’

Jean lifted her shoulders hopelessly. ‘She’s either going

on and on at me or she’s not speaking to me at all, and I

don’t know which is worse. All the usual things: always

brought me up to be decent, what will the neighbours say,

never be able to hold up her head again in public … And

then she starts to cry, and she won’t let me say anything, of

even touch her, and after that she goes out to the kitchen

and won’t speak to me. She won’t even let me help get

dinner ready. It’s as if she’s pretending I’m not there - don’t even exist.’

There was a note of real pain in her last words and Polly experienced a moment of insight into the girl’s frightened

mind. Poor little mite, she thought compassionately. She’s

lost the man she loves - and Judy and me both know what that feels like - and on top of that she’s in the worst trouble a girl can be in, without any chance of her chap standing by

her, and her own mother’s trying to make out she doesn’t

exist. She doesn’t know where to turn.

She went swiftly across to Jean and put her arms around

her. ‘Well, you exist here,’ she said firmly, ‘and we’ll help

you all we can. Now, what we’ve got to do first is think what

you want to do, and then see how you can do it. That’s the

best way, isn’t it?’

‘Trust you, Polly,’ her mother said admiringly. ‘You

could always see right to the nub of things.’

‘Well, being in the WVS helps,’ Polly admitted. ‘You get

used to solving problems. Now, what do you want most,

Jean - apart from what we all know you can’t have,’ she

added hastily as Jean’s eyes filled with tears. ‘We’ve all got

to face up to not having our Terry back again.’

‘I want to keep my baby,’ the girl whispered. ‘Terry and

me were going to get married the next time he came home.

It would have been all right then, and we’d have been a

family.’ She raised anguished eyes to Polly’s face. ‘I can’t

lose our baby as well as Terry. I can’t.’

‘No, you can’t,’ Polly said. She looked around at the

others. ‘You can all see that, can’t you? She can’t give the

baby away. And we don’t want her to. It’s Terry’s.’

Nobody spoke for a moment, and then Judy said a little

plaintively, ‘I wish somebody’d tell me what you’re all

saying.’

As if it were a relief, they all began to talk at once, and

Judy shook her head helplessly. ‘It’s no use! You know I

can’t hear you. Write it down, someone - please. Oh,’ she

clapped her hands over her ears, ‘it’s awful not being able to

hear. You just get left out of everything, and I’m fed up with it!’

‘Judy, I’m sorry,’ Polly said, and found some paper.

Hastily, she wrote a brief account of what was happening,

finishing with the words, and we ‘re going to help Jean all we

can. Judy read them and nodded.

‘That’s all right, then. So what are we going to do?’

‘That’s what we’ve got to decide,’ Polly said, remembering

to look at her and speak clearly. Judy could still not

lip-read a great deal, but could usually manage to pick up

the gist, as much from the speaker’s expression as from the

carefully articulated words. Polly looked at Jean, who was

controlling her sobs and wiping her eyes on an already

sodden handkerchief. ‘Now then, Jean. You want to keep

your baby. What we’ve got to do is work out how you can

do that.’

Jean nodded. ‘But I don’t see how,’ she whispered. ‘If

Mum says I’ve got to go, and you can’t have me here, what

am I going to do? There’s nowhere else I can think of

‘Are you sure your mum won’t come round? It’s early

days yet, and it must have been a shock for her.’ Cissie

spoke kindly, but with some feeling for the other mother. It

had been a shock for her, to know that Terry had gone

against his upbringing, and it was all the worse when it was

a daughter, who would carry the evidence of her wrongdoing.

‘What about your dad?’

‘Oh, Dad’s all right. He’s upset, I know he is, but,’ she

glanced at them apologetically, ‘he’s more angry with Terry

than he is with me. He hasn’t said too much about that

because of Terry being killed, but I know he is. I’ve told

him it was just as much me as him,’ she added.

Dick cleared his throat. ‘Well, I can understand that. I

know how I’d feel if some bloke had taken advantage of one

of my girls and then left her in the lurch.’ There was an

immediate outcry from all except Judy and he raised one

hand. ‘All right, all right, I’m not saying that’s what our

Terry did, but I can understand Mr Foster thinking that way. Any father would.’

‘So you agree we’ve got to do what Terry would do if he

was here?’ Cissie challenged him. ‘You’re ready to stand by

and help Jean?’

Dick glowered for a moment, then said, ‘I’ve already said

so, haven’t I? Course I will!’ He glanced at the girl. ‘I won’t say I’m pleased about what you’ve done,’ he said heavily,

‘and if our Terry was here I’d give him the rough edge of

my tongue. But there’s no doubt he’d have stood by you and

married you if he was here, and since he isn’t nor ever will

be,’ a flicker of pain twisted his lips but he went on with

determination, ‘then we’ll look after you and the baby as

best we can. Only it’s like Polly says, we’ve got to work out

how to do it. I don’t see how we can have you here, not

without someone having to sleep out in the shed!’

The little flash of humour made them all smile and eased

the tension. Cissie went out to the scullery to make some

tea, and Polly said, ‘How are you feeling in yourself, Jean?

Have you been to a doctor yet?’

Jean shook her head. ‘I’ve felt really well. To tell you the

truth, I never even realised what had happened till I’d,’ she

glanced at Dick and blushed, ‘till I’d missed twice. Then I

started to wonder, but I still didn’t think it could.be true. I was never sick, or anything like that. I did feel a bit tired for a while, but that passed off and I felt better than ever. And

then when I missed again — well, I felt too scared to go to a

doctor. I suppose I didn’t want to know it was true.’ She

looked round at their faces. ‘It is true, though. I know it is, and soon everyone else will know as well.’

‘Well, there’s nothing we can do about that.’ Polly spoke

briskly. If there was one thing she’d learned during her

service with the WVS it was that problems were best solved

by looking at them straight in the face, without emotion. ‘If

you’re going to keep this baby, everyone’s going to know

anyway, and the sooner the better if you ask me. They won’t

have so much time to wonder and gossip, and they can start getting used to the idea. I tell you what, Jean, you’re not the first girl to be caught like this and you won’t be the last. I

reckon there’ll be plenty more in the position you’re in, with