Lost Angel (20 page)

By the end of January the following year, everyone had had enough of the freezing temperatures. It was 1947, the coldest winter in living memory and there was even news that the sea had frozen over in Margate.

By February, worse had come. Clement Attlee had already nationalised coal mining, setting up the National Coal Board, so they were all shocked when he announced an emergency, he said, of the utmost gravity. Because of the power shortages, everyone would have to conserve fuel and some factories would close, while others would only open for three days a week. On top of that, rationing was at an all-time high and Hilda was at the end of her tether. With hardly any coal, they, like many people, had taken to going to bed after dinner, she and Doug snuggling up together for warmth.

‘Are you getting up?’ Doug asked Hilda as she stirred beside him.

‘Yes, but stay there and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.’

‘I’ll get up too.’

‘We’ve only got a bit of coal and I’d rather save that for later. You’ll be warmer in bed.’

‘This weather is sure to break soon.’

‘I hope so,’ Hilda said as she grabbed a pair of Doug’s old, and many times darned socks, pulling them on before shoving her feet into slippers, the soles so thin now that they offered little protection from the freezing lino.

‘When you’ve made the tea, are you coming back to bed?’

‘No, I’ll keep warm by doing a bit of housework, ’ Hilda said, hurrying to the kitchen. She turned the tap on, hoping the pipes hadn’t frozen again and thankful when she was able to fill the kettle with water. She would have to use old tea leaves again and her mood was low. It was bad enough putting up with this – with battling the cold and hunger – but on top of that she was worried sick about Ellen. Her daughter was so quiet and nowadays, other than going to work, she hardly left the house, usually the first into bed after dinner too. All right, Ellen had a crush on Billy, but this was bloody ridiculous and she should have been over it by now.

Maybe she was barking up the wrong tree, Hilda thought as, shivering, she waited for the kettle to
boil. Maybe Ellen had fallen out with Janet. As she rarely went out now, that explanation made more sense.

When there was a loud knock on the front door, Hilda went to answer it, wondering who was calling this early on a Sunday morning.

‘Gertie! Maureen!’

‘Hello, my dear,’ Gertie said. ‘Can we come in?’

‘Of course you can, though you’ll have to excuse my nightclothes. It’s warmer in bed and I’ve only just got up.’

Gertie eyed the hearth. ‘Haven’t you got any coal left?’

‘A little bit, but I was saving it for later. Now you’re here I’ll light the fire. Sit down, the pair of you.’

Neither took off their coats and Hilda didn’t blame them as she knelt down, screwing newspaper into a tight ball, laying it in the grate and placing a few sticks of wood on top. ‘The kettle’s already on and I’ll make you a cup of tea when I’ve done this.’

‘Where’s Doug?’

‘He’s still in bed, Ellen too. I’ll get them up.’

‘That’s good. We want to talk to all of you.’

‘What about?’

‘A proposition, but I’m not saying anything until you’re all together.’

Impatiently Hilda laid a few pieces of precious
coal on the fire. ‘Right, that’s done,’ she said, before hastening to the bedroom. ‘Doug, get up. Gertie’s here and wants to talk to us.’

‘I heard her voice,’ Doug said, already putting on a shirt.

When Hilda opened her daughter’s door, Ellen had her back to her, but when told to get up, she said, ‘All right. I’m coming.’

Maybe this would do it, Hilda thought. Maybe seeing Gertie again would lift Ellen’s spirits…and just what was this proposition she’d mentioned?

Ellen didn’t want to get up. She wanted to stay where she was, trying to shut it out and wishing as she did every day that she could just die, so afraid that death would be welcome. Gertie was here with Maureen, but Ellen wanted to stay in bed, to hide away; but there’d be no hiding it soon.

Reluctantly she got up, throwing on a couple of old, baggy jumpers that the freezing weather had given her an excuse to wear.

‘Ellen, there you are,’ Gertie said as soon as she saw her, but then frowned. ‘Are you all right, dear?’

‘Yes, I’m fine, just a bit tired, that’s all.’

‘It’s the struggle to keep warm, that’s what does it,’ Maureen said.

It was Maureen’s sympathetic smile that gave Ellen a tiny bit of hope. If she told them now, while Gertie and Maureen were here, maybe, just
maybe, they’d be able to offer her some support. Gertie had always been so kind to her, and surely she wouldn’t be as shocked as her parents were going to be.

‘It…it isn’t that,’ she began hesitantly, head low and unable to look at her mother. ‘I…I’m pregnant.’

There was a stunned silence, followed by an awful wail from her mother. ‘No, no, Ellen, you can’t be!’

‘Of course she isn’t.’ This from her father. ‘She’s probably run down, anaemic or something.’

‘Yes, Doug, that’s it,’ Hilda said clutching eagerly on to his words. ‘Of course you aren’t pregnant, Ellen. Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘I…I am, Mum.’

‘You haven’t been with a boy. You can’t be!’

‘I have, but…but only once.’

Ellen wasn’t ready for the blow, the slap across the face so hard it left her reeling as her mother spat, ‘A tart…you’re nothing but a tart!’

‘Don’t, Hilda, don’t!’

Her father was ignored and Ellen cringed as her mother’s hand lifted again. Gertie stood up quickly, putting herself as a barrier between them, saying, ‘Hilda, stop it, this isn’t solving anything.’

‘Solved! How can it be solved?’ Hilda shouted, pushing Gertie to one side to glare at Ellen again. ‘Who was it? You’ll have to marry him!’

‘I…I can’t.’

‘What do you mean, can’t? You’ll marry him, my girl, whether you like it or not. Now who was it?’

‘Bi…Billy.’

‘Don’t lie to me. You haven’t seen Billy since your birthday last year. It can’t be his!’

‘It…it is.’

As her mother glared at her, Ellen could almost see her brain ticking over before she cried, ‘But that means you must be over three months gone, and worse, Billy is now married!’

‘Ellen, you poor thing,’ Gertie murmured.

‘She doesn’t deserve sympathy! Don’t you realise what this means, Gertie? She’ll be an unmarried mother and I’ll never be able to hold my head up around here again! Doug, do something! Say something!’

‘It’s no good losing your rag. It’s happened, it’s done and we’ll just have to work something out.’

‘Like what?’

‘Hilda, I know you’re upset, but please listen,’ urged Gertie. ‘Maureen and I may be able to help.’

‘How can you help? How can anybody help!’

‘You’ve just said you’ll never be able to hold your head up around here again – well, you may not have to. You see, we came here to offer you all jobs and, not only that, accommodation too. It’s taken us some time, but we’ve found the perfect
place for our plant nursery. There’s a great deal to do, not least clearing the ground, and I think Doug’s idea of a shop is a brilliant one. Now I know you don’t like working outdoors, Hilda, but you’ve had experience of working in a shop, whereas I haven’t got a clue. You could take it on, both you and Doug.’

‘What good would I be in a shop?’ Doug asked.

‘You could man the till, and when it’s quiet you could learn how to handle and transplant young stock. It’s a sitting-down job that isn’t too taxing.’

‘I dunno, Gertie. I think I’d be more of a handicap than a help.’

‘Of course you wouldn’t. If you have a bad day when you have to lie flat, it won’t be the end of the world, and let me tell you, I’d cut your wages accordingly.’

‘You’re forgetting that the government introduced the National Insurance Act last year.’

‘Yes, Doug, but you have to build up a fair few stamps before you’d get sick pay.’

‘Yeah, I know. I’m only joking, Gertie, and as for cutting my pay, I’d expect no less.’

‘How can you joke at a time like this?’ Hilda shouted. ‘Ellen’s just told us she’s pregnant!’

‘I must admit I wasn’t expecting this when I came to talk to you, but I’d still like to take Ellen on too. There’ll be loads of things to do, some light, some heavy, but we’ve already decided to take on a man
to help with the heavy jobs. We were thinking about Percy, the lad who lives upstairs.’

‘What!’ cried Hilda. ‘No, you can’t. He’s Billy’s brother!’

‘Oh dear, right then, we’ll find someone else.’

With a sob, Ellen fled the room. It was bad enough that she was pregnant, but now she’d probably ruined Percy’s chances too. He’d have loved a job in the plant nursery, and for him it would have been a dream come true, but because of her, it wasn’t going to happen. Then her own unhappiness swamped her again and Ellen flung herself across her bed, crying as though her heart would break.

‘Maybe I should go after Ellen, but to be honest, I don’t think I could keep my hands off of her. How could she do this? How could she do this to me?’ Hilda moaned.

‘Now then, I know you’re upset, and it’s understandable, but surely this is worse for Ellen?’ Gertie cajoled. ‘She now faces the prospect of being an unmarried mother and it isn’t going to be easy for her.’

‘Don’t you think I know that, but it’s her flaming fault.’

‘You’ve always kept Ellen so sheltered, so innocent, and I expect this boy took advantage of that. I doubt she understood what could happen…what could be the consequences.’

‘So you’re saying it’s down to me.’

‘No, Hilda, I’m just trying to make you see that Ellen isn’t a bad girl, and if you remember she said it only happened once. Can’t you imagine what she’s been going through? How terrified she must have been and what it must have taken for her to tell you? Put yourself in her shoes.’

Hilda raked her fingers through her hair. It was all right for Gertie to talk, she didn’t have a sixteen-year-old daughter who was having a baby. When Ellen blurted it out, she had almost collapsed in shock. Billy! If she got her hands on him she’d kill him!

‘We’ve got something else to think about,’ Doug warned. ‘We’ll have to tell Jack and Mabel.’

‘Maybe we should go now,’ Gertie offered. ‘We’ll come back this evening and perhaps by then you’ll have had a chance to talk things through and to think about my offer.’

‘I don’t know about Hilda, but I don’t need to think about it,’ said Doug. ‘I’m all for it. I hate living in London and being cooped up in here all day. If you’re prepared to risk taking me on, I’ll do my best not to let you down.’

‘What about you, Hilda?’ Gertie asked.

‘I don’t know! My daughter’s just told me that she’s pregnant and my head’s all over the place. I can’t think about anything else.’

‘Of course you can’t, and I understand that, but
just let me say the accommodation is a nice, rent-free cottage not far from the nursery so consider that too. Goodbye for now, and as I said, we’ll call back later.’

Hilda managed to return their goodbyes and show them out, but her head was spinning and she didn’t know if she was coming or going. Ellen…Ellen was pregnant!

‘Gertie, that was awful,’ Maureen said as they drove away.

‘I know. Poor Ellen was in a dreadful state.’

‘Hilda was too.’

‘She’s always been over-protective, and Ellen her perfect daughter. The shock must have been dreadful.’

‘I know you’re very fond of them, that you see them as your family, but are you absolutely sure this is the right thing to do? It’s already a risk taking Doug on, but now you’re talking about a pregnant girl too.’

‘I’m aware of that, but I still want to help them.’

‘Surely there are other ways? Ellen won’t be able to do much in the latter months of pregnancy, and with a baby she won’t be able to look after it
and
work too. It seems to me that the only one who’ll be fit to do a full day’s work is Hilda.’

‘I thought you liked them.’

‘I’m just trying to be practical, and letting them
live in the cottage rent-free when only one member of the family can really pull their weight doesn’t make economic sense.’

‘I told you. Money isn’t an issue.’

‘All right, I know you’re well off now, but you’re only young. If you just let money run down the drain it won’t last for ever, and that’s what they’ll be, Gertie, a drain on your finances.’

‘No, they won’t. Hilda and Doug will run the shop, and I feel sure that eventually it’ll make a profit. That just leaves Ellen and, even with a baby, there’ll be loads she can do. In fact, when you think about it, we both hate housework and cooking, so perhaps she could take on the role of our housekeeper.’

‘You’ve got an answer for everything, but at least I was able to talk you out of us all sharing the same accommodation. We’ll be living in the big house, but that’s only right. The cottage may be tiny in comparison, but at the end of the day, Gertie, they are just staff.’

‘No, Maureen, they aren’t. They’re my family and how many times have I got to tell you that? I gave in to you about sharing the house, but I won’t have you looking down your nose at them.’

‘All right, I’m sorry, and I will make an effort with them, really I will. All I hope is that you’re not making a big financial mistake.’

‘Stop worrying. It’ll be fine, but it’s a shame
about Percy. I rather liked him. What he lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm, but there’s no chance of offering him the job now.’

‘Well, Hilda, what do you think?’ Doug asked.

‘I said I don’t know! I told you, I’m too shocked about Ellen to think about anything else.’

‘I’m shocked to the core too, but at least Gertie has come up with a chance for us to get away from here. You’re the one who’s worried about the gossips, but if we move quickly we’ll be gone before the tongues start wagging.’

‘Don’t you get it? It’ll be the same wherever we live. When her stomach bulges we can hardly hide the fact that Ellen’s having a baby, or the fact that she’s single.’

‘We could come up with some sort of story, say she’s been widowed or something.’

‘What, with a baby at sixteen? Don’t be daft.’