Wishes and Tears (6 page)

Janet felt awkward and embarrassed; she didn't really know what to do. She quickly glanced at the other mothers who were busy feeding their babies and tried to copy them. She put her baby's mouth to her breast, but she fumbled and snuffled and wouldn't suck. Janet looked around frightened; she wanted help.

A nurse came up and forced her baby's head on to her nipple. ‘You have to be firm. Have you given her a name?'

‘Paula.'

‘That's nice.'

Through the pain Janet felt a wonderful feeling going through her when Paula begun sucking, and it was then that she knew deep in her heart she wasn't going to part with her. She was hers and she belonged to her and her alone.

‘Nobody is going to have you, you're mine,' she whispered, putting her lips to her baby's forehead. ‘That is a promise I am making to you, my Paula.'

When the nurse came Janet told her she didn't want her baby to be taken away again, she wanted to hold her and love her, but she was told it was visiting time and rules were rules. She slunk down in the bed, knowing she wouldn't be having visitors.

Once she peered over the sheet, she found she was the only one with an empty chair at her bedside. She noticed some of the husbands were looking in her direction. Their wives had smug looks on their faces. They must be telling them about this silly girl who had got herself in trouble.

Half an hour later the nurse stood in the doorway and frantically rang the handbell. Kisses were hurriedly exchanged, and most men moved slowly away down the ward, looking behind them, waving and blowing kisses.

Janet wrote in her diary, ‘Today I gave birth to a daughter. She is the most beautiful baby in the whole world, her name is Paula.' The date was 2 March 1954, the one day Janet would never forget.

She desperately wanted the night to come. Perhaps Paula would want another feed, then she would be able to hold her again. She smiled and turned over. She closed her eyes and drifted into a land of her own making. A land where the sun shone and she and Paula laughed and played together. Would that time ever come? Janet knew she was going to make it happen one day.

The following morning, when Janet was given her baby to feed, she managed to unravel the blanket. She wanted to count her toes; she hadn't seen Paula's feet yet! Janet quickly took a breath when she saw how tiny they were. On the top of her left foot was a brown birthmark. Janet carefully studied it: it was in the shape of a heart.

‘Come along now, give baby her breakfast,' said a nurse who was passing.

‘Nurse?'

She came over to the bedside. ‘Yes, what is it?'

‘This mark on Paula's foot, will it ever go away?'

‘No. It will probably fade in time, but it shouldn't cause her any problems. Now come on, let her feed.'

Janet smiled down at her baby's face. ‘I will be able to find you now,' she whispered.

As the week went on Janet's breasts felt hard and uncomfortable and she found she was prone to tears. At visiting time she desperately wanted someone to fill the empty chair next to her bed. She had written to her mother and told her about Paula, but she hadn't received a letter back. She wanted to show off her lovely new baby. She wanted to be told she didn't have to give her away.

‘It's only natural for you to feel down,' said the nurse when Janet was shedding a few tears. ‘It's all part of having a baby.'

By the end of the week Janet felt more comfortable. Some of the other mothers had left and when new ones arrived in the ward, flowers and cards decorated their bedside cabinets. Janet never had any cards or flowers. She couldn't bear to watch when it was time for a mother to go home. You could always tell when it was their first born. They walked proudly down the ward with their new baby in their arms and usually the brim of a small bonnet just peeped above a fine cobweb shawl that possibly a grandmother had lovingly made.

Janet buried her head in her pillow. Her baby would never know her real mother, let alone her real grandmother.

One or two of the older women wouldn't talk to her, but the younger ones didn't mind. It annoyed Janet when the nurses called her Miss Slater in a very loud voice.

‘Don't worry about it, love,' said the girl who had moved into the bed next to her. ‘There but for the grace of God and Bill's father wanting to marry me I might have been in the same position.'

Janet had been in the hospital ten days. In two days' time she would be going home. She had spent most of her time trying to think of ways in which she could keep Paula. Could she steal her away in the night? Where would they go? How could she work and look after her? And Paula didn't have any clothes of her own.

So far there hadn't been any news from her parents. Did she really want to go home? She knew she didn't have any choice.

That morning, when the babies were brought in for feeding, a young nurse came and drew the curtains round Janet's bed.

‘Where's my baby?' she asked. ‘What's happened to her?' She began to panic.

‘She's being put on a bottle and I've got to bind you up.'

‘Why?'

‘To help stop your milk.'

‘Why can't I feed my baby?'

‘She's got to get used to a bottle.'

‘What for?' asked Janet, her voice rising.

‘Her new parents.'

‘What? They can't do that. Who are they? I haven't signed anything.'

‘That's for the sister to say. I only do as I am told.'

‘I want to see Sister.'

‘I'll tell her, but you know how busy she is.'

Janet went to get out of bed.

‘What are you doing?'

She put on her dressing gown. ‘Going to find out who is going to take my baby.' She left the young nurse standing with her mouth open.

As she marched along the corridor she felt her bravado slipping away. What was she going to say? As she approached the nursery she saw a nurse giving Paula a bottle. She pushed open the door.

‘What are you doing in here, Miss Slater? I told Nurse Gordon to bind you up. Your baby is going on the bottle.'

Janet was looking at Paula, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I don't want to give her away,' she said softly.

‘Now you know you've got to.'

‘I want to keep her.'

‘It has all been taken out of your hands.'

Janet's head shot up. ‘Who by?'

‘Your parents.'

‘What have they got to do with it?'

‘As you are underage they have signed for Paula to be adopted.'

‘They can't do that.'

‘I am afraid they can.'

Janet knew her tears were falling but did nothing to stop them. She sat on a chair and took her baby's tiny hand. ‘Can I give her the bottle?' she asked.

‘No. I think it is better you leave the nursery.'

‘But—'

‘Please, Miss Slater. It's for your own good.'

Slowly Janet made her way back to the ward. She lay on her bed and thought about her future. She desperately wanted Paula to be part of it.

 

That night, long after lights out, Janet went along to the nursery. She stood by Paula's cot and in the half-light saw that she looked so peaceful. Janet gently ran the back of her finger over her baby's smooth cheek. Paula snuffled and began sucking, turning towards Janet's finger. A smile flitted across Janet's sad face. She lifted Paula from her cot and held her close. The warm clean smell of her baby filled her with a longing she had never known. She put her lips to her soft downy cheek. ‘I love you so much,' she whispered. ‘I will now make you a promise that one day I will find you and if it takes the rest of my life, we will be together.'

‘Miss Slater, just what do you think you are doing?' A nurse had come up behind her.

Janet didn't flinch. ‘I was saying goodbye to my baby.'

‘You know you shouldn't be in here. Now get back to your bed at once.' The nurse took Paula from her and put her back into her cot.

Janet stood and watched her baby. Paula's head moved from side to side as if she was searching for something.

The nurse took Janet's arm. ‘Come along now. You are feeling low, it is quite natural. You'll get over this in time.'

Janet allowed herself to be led away. She knew she couldn't win yet she felt she now had a mission for the rest of her life: to be reunited with Paula. This separation was something she was never going to get over.

 

Janet arrived back at the village as she had left it - alone. Only her mother was home when she let herself in.

Janet hugged her.

‘Janet, Janet darling, let me look at you.' She held her at arm's length. ‘You look very well considering. Everybody had been asking after you. They think you are such a good girl looking after an ailing aunt all this time.'

Janet smiled. ‘You should have seen her, Mother. She was so lovely; she had dark hair and a little birth mark on her—'

‘Please, Janet, I am not interested.'

‘I'm sure you would have loved her if only you had seen her. I wish—'

Irene Slater moved away. ‘Now, Janet, that is quite enough. It isn't any good wishing. You have to start again. You must forget what has happened.'

‘But I can't forget.'

‘You will have to.'

‘She was my baby.'

‘You must think of it as a bereavement.'

‘She didn't die.'

‘Janet, I don't want you to mention anything about it to your father.'

‘She isn't an it, her name's Paula,' she protested.

‘Her new parents might decide to change that. Now come along, take your case upstairs and I'll make us both a cup of tea. By the way, your new dress is on your bed. It's blue; we thought blue would suit you.' Irene Slater smiled. ‘Also I'm trying to persuade your father into buying a television. I'm sure you'd like that.'

Janet didn't reply, and made her way upstairs.

In her bedroom she pushed the dress to one side and sat on the bed. It was nice in some ways to be home, but she knew she was going to miss Paula. She knew that very soon life would be back to its old boring routine. Janet quickly glanced at the dress. Why didn't they let her choose her own? Once more she was going to have to do the things they wanted her to. She screwed it up and threw it across the floor. She wanted more freedom. It was all right being home but she knew she would miss living with the other girls. She also knew her life could never be the same now.

The dress was in a crumpled heap and, feeling guilty, Janet picked it up. What had happened wasn't her parents' fault. She held up the dress. It wasn't that bad, and after all she should be grateful she still had a home and family, not like Freda. Janet picked up her rabbit and hugged it. She continued to worry about Freda. Was she still alive? If only she knew were she lived. If only she'd written.

Her mother called her to come downstairs. Her father lightly kissed her cheek and welcomed her home.

‘You are looking very well.'

‘And so do you, Father. Mother tells me you are thinking of having a television.'

‘Just thinking about it for the moment, just thinking.'

‘It would be nice.'

‘We shall see. Now I must get on with a speech I'm giving at the WI.' He went into his study.

Janet knew that her father was an aloof man and it was going to take him a long while to get over what had happened.

‘Do you feel well enough to go back to Blakes on Monday?' asked her mother as they sat drinking their tea.

‘I don't want to work there.'

‘So what will you do?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Well, there you are then. You'll feel better when you've been to see them.'

‘They may not have a job for me.'

‘I'm sure they will.'

‘But what if they don't?'

‘You can cross that bridge if and when you come to it, but I'm sure if Mr Blake knew you'd been away looking after a sick relative he would be pleased to see you back with them.'

‘I'd rather work in the village.'

‘Now what would you do here?'

‘Perhaps Mrs White in the grocers, or the post office might need help.'

‘I don't think they do. And I don't think it's such a good idea.'

‘Why? Are you frightened I might mention Paula?'

Irene Slater flushed. ‘Now, Janet, that wasn't a nice thing to say. It's just that I don't think there is a lot of opportunity for you here, that's all. And I hope that every time something doesn't go your way you don't keep throwing this silly nonsense in my face.'