The Watercress Girls (4 page)

‘For both of you?’ Mattie ventured.

‘It seemed so. He was a widower; we married within six weeks of meeting.’ She added: ‘I suppose he thought an educated wife would be an asset. I realized all too soon I’d made a mistake. There is … no passion in our union. I suspect he seeks that elsewhere. Are the visits to his club a cover-up for a liaison?’

‘Do you really care?’ Mattie wondered.

‘Not any more. I have my ally, dear Hilda, and now, you. I feel I can trust you.’

‘Thank you. Though I’m afraid I now care even less for Rufus.’

‘He hides his kinder side very well. He brought Griff up, after his mother died.’

‘He banished him to boarding school!’ Mattie reminded Sybil.

‘He paid for him to have an excellent education; social grooming. He is fond of Griff in his own way, but doesn’t show it. Well, I must dress for dinner, so must you.’

As she opened the door to leave they saw Griff standing there.

‘I was wondering where the pair of you had got to,’ he said,
unembarrassed
.

‘We’ll be down shortly,’ Mattie and Sybil said in unison.

Mattie closed the door. How much, if anything, had Griff overheard, she wondered?

Miss Teazel pleaded a headache and asked to be excused. She’d seen her employer’s covert glances at her assistant. A pretty young thing, but with little aptitude for bookkeeping. The discrepancies had been in Miss Coe’s childish handwriting.

When her superior had left, Miss Coe smiled nervously at Mr Fullilove.

‘I promise to do better, sir.’

They were in his office. The building was deserted, apart from the caretaker in his basement. Rufus pulled down the blinds, switched on the desk lamp.

‘I’ve made you late for your meal. I apologize.’

‘Oh,’ Miss Coe said disingenuously, ‘I have to fend for myself. I only have a gas ring in my bedsit. It will have to be bread and cheese tonight.’

‘I feel responsible for your welfare. Allow me to accompany you to a restaurant meal.’

‘I … don’t know what to say … it’s very good of you, but—’

‘I insist. While you fetch your things from the cloakroom, I will
telephone
my wife.’

‘Won’t she mind?’

‘My dear young lady, I assure you, Mrs Fullilove will not mind at all,’ Rufus said.

E
vie, although she was coming up to thirteen, was blissfully ignorant of the facts of life. She knew Ena was about to have a baby, of course, but matters concerning the birth were conveyed in whispers, between her mother and her daughter-in-law.

Evie wisely kept out of Ena’s way as much as possible. Ena’s temper did not improve as the weather grew warmer and she became heavier and weary. The cradle, which had last been used by Evie as a baby, was brought down from the attic and painted white. The muslin hangings were washed and starched. Sophia removed the faded pink bows and sewed on new blue ribbons at Ena’s request. Ena was convinced the baby was a boy. Sophia secretly hoped so: to compensate for, even if he could never replace, her own lost son, Robbie.

It was May, and Mattie had already been gone a whole month. She wrote to her parents once a week. In her latest letter she proudly enclosed a five-shilling postal order, as promised. This was almost a week’s wage. Her earlier suspicions had proved right. Her board and lodging were obviously taken into consideration, were not free at all. Mattie also included a note for Evie.

Tears pricked Evie’s eyes. Ena was able to undermine her in all kinds of devious ways, now that her own big sister was not around to protect her from the barbs.

She thought, as she tucked the letter away where she hoped Ena would not find it, our parents found me amusing when I was a child – I was the spoiled one, I know. Now, Mother tells me off when Ena moans I’ve not done my jobs properly. Oh, how I hate washing-up! When I leave school, I shall ask Mattie to send for me! I miss her, too.

Evie’s parents were on their fortnightly shopping excursion to the Friday market in town. The bus was packed, and Sophia chatted to the doctor’s wife, who was having a rare day off from answering calls to the surgery. Her husband had planned a fishing trip, she said, adding, I hope your Ena doesn’t decide to have her baby today.’

‘Well, the midwife called yesterday and she reckons Ena’ll go another ten days or so.’ Will
I
last out? Sophia thought. Ena has been a real trial this last month….

Sophia was flattered that the doctor’s wife had singled her out to talk to, according her the status she’d enjoyed when the Plough was a going concern.

‘How is your Mattie faring in Plymouth?’ They were communicating across the gangway in the bus. Will tactfully gazed through the window at the local scenes as they rumbled along, but others were listening avidly.

‘Mattie is doing well in her new employment, thank you.’

‘Such an attractive young lady. She will be much in demand socially, I imagine.’

‘Oh, Mattie is quite emancipated. She intends to concentrate on her career.’

Will gave Sophia a discreet nudge. ‘Town hall stop coming up. Make ready.’

As they walked towards the market square, he observed. ‘Bit sharp, weren’t you?’

‘Mattie is not like other girls of her age.
She
’ll make something of herself.’

Will squeezed her arm ‘You’ve expected great things of Mattie ever since she had her portrait painted! Now she’s left home we should concentrate on Evie, I think.’

‘Evie is different. She’ll stay at home unless she marries. You’ll see!’

‘We mustn’t take that for granted,’ Will reminded her wisely.

‘It’s traditional,’ Sophia insisted. ‘The youngest has certain
responsibilities
.’

‘You’ve got Ena now.…’

‘Ena!
She
pulled the wool over my eyes. She won’t last the course, that one!’

At that moment, with a wry smile, Will thought, but didn’t say, how alike Sophia and her elder daughter were, both in looks, for Mattie was fair like her mother, while Evie was dark-haired like himself, and in the way they spoke their mind.

Evie hurried home from school at lunch time to see Ena, as she’d
promised
an anxious Ronnie, first thing, before he left for work. ‘You can make sandwiches for you both, can’t you?’ As he said that, he was hurriedly cutting bread for his own packing-up.

Evie had assured her brother she would do as he asked. When she entered the house by the back door she went straight to the kitchen. She found things as she had left them, the table wiped clean, the plates on the wall rack. There was no sign of Ena.

She called out anxiously: ‘Ena, where are you?’ There was a faint thumping on the floor above, in reply. Ena must be in her bedroom.

Evie tore upstairs, turned the corner and burst into the room without knocking.

Ena, still in her nightgown, was writhing on the rumpled bed. Her face was contorted. ‘What … took you … so long.’ she managed in a hoarse whisper.

‘I ran back from school. Is it … the baby?’

‘What do you think!’ Ena gasped. She groaned as another spasm racked her.

Evie was galvanized into action. She gripped Ena’s hand. It seemed to help.

After what seemed an eternity, Ena relaxed, opened her eyes,
struggled
to sit up.

‘The bed’s soaking. Get a big towel to put under me. Then run like the blazes for the midwife! Tell her … the pains … oh leave the towel – just go!’

A shocked Evie realized that Ena was in agony. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can!’

Five minutes later she was hammering on the nurse’s door. Her husband, home from the fields for his lunch, answered. He stood there with his sleeves rolled up, as he’d been at the sink, washing his grubby hands. He wiped them ineffectually on his clothes. ‘If you want the missus, she’s out on a job. Is it your Ena? I can get a message to her, tell her to leave off lancing Charlie’s boils, and to come to yours.’

‘Thank you!’ Evie was still out of breath. She turned at the gate. ‘What can I do?’

‘Get plenty of water boiling on the stove. Then sit with the poor gal.’

There was a pump over the Belfast sink. Evie filled kettles and a big pan and set them on the gas stove. She wasted several matches, because her hands were shaking.

She went upstairs, pausing to grab towels from the linen cupboard on the landing.

There was a scream from the bedroom. Evie dropped the linen on a chair, rushed to the bedside. This was all happening so quickly: it was like a bad dream.

Ena was clutching her bent knees, her gown rucked round her waist. ‘The baby’s being born …’ she panted. ‘Help me, oh help me!’

Evie snatched up the biggest towel, eased it under her sister-in-law. As she bent to this task, she was shocked to see what was happening. Instinctively she caught the baby in her hands as it emerged into the world. It gave an indignant wail. This was one cry which Evie was relieved to hear.

Ena subsided limply back on her pillows. ‘There’s more to come,’ she said weakly.

‘What … do you mean?’

‘Lay the baby down, wrap it in the other towel, then leave well alone. The nurse will deal with the rest of it …’ She closed her eyes dismissively.

Evie suddenly recalled the water which must be boiling furiously on the stove. As she came downstairs, two at a time, she heard the banging on the front door. Thank goodness, the midwife was here!

‘The baby’s come,’ she greeted the nurse.

‘What is it?’ came the brusque question.

‘Oh – I didn’t look!’ Poor Evie was sobbing now.

‘Never mind – got the kettle on the boil? Bring up a jug of hot and a jug of cold water, then make tea for three – you’ve had a shock, too, my dear.’

First, Evie washed her hands under the pump, then consigned her dress to the clothes basket – what would Mother say when she saw the stains on it? She took down a clean frock from the airer and slipped it over her head.
Now
, she thought I can cope with the nurse’s requests.

There was more tea to make and explanations as to why she was not back at school, when her parents arrived home at four o’clock.

The nurse was still with Ena and the baby. Sophia couldn’t wait to see her new grandson. Evie and Will sat in the kitchen, drinking their tea and eating Bourbon biscuits, a treat Sophia had brought home.

‘You did well, Evie,’ Will said presently. He suddenly reached across the table to ruffle her black curls. ‘I hope it wasn’t too much of a shock for you. Messy business, having babies. But they clean up nicely, and then you forget all that.’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget,’ Evie told him. She wouldn’t be unkind
and add that the baby was all crumpled-looking and lobster-red; she hoped he would improve with keeping!

Tucked up in her bed, in fresh linen, Ena turned away from her baby. ‘You can nurse him for a bit,’ she told her mother-in-law, ‘then lay him in the cradle.’

Nurse whispered conspiratorially to Sophia, ‘I don’t like the colour of her. She seems to be rejecting the baby … she won’t try to feed him. Doctor should be back home shortly. I’ll call and give him the news. Ask him to look in tomorrow.’

Sophia gently kissed the little downy head, still damp from bathing. ‘
Robbie
.’ she said very softly. ‘Grandma will take care of you, my darling.’

Ronnie apologized for waking his mother soon after midnight. When the baby stirred and was obviously hungry, Ena had hissed, ‘Tell your mother to make him a bottle. You can move the cradle into your parents’ room. Let me go back to sleep!’

Sophia had been prepared for this eventuality. There was a tin of formula milk and half a dozen of the new glass feeding-bottles. While she busied herself with mixing, then cooling the milk in the bottle, Ronnie rocked the baby in his arms.

‘Pass him to me,’ she said presently. ‘You go back up and see to the cradle. Put it by my side of the bed. Tell your father, if he’s still awake, I’ll be up in a while.’

‘I know what you’re thinking about Ena,’ Ronnie said defensively, ‘but she’ll get over it. She must have been terrified, here on her own, till Evie arrived.’

‘We were all in a state, and I just realized: I should have told Evie what a good job she did, eh?’

‘I’ll tell her tomorrow, Mother. Buy her a little something from the baby. We must send a telegram to Mattie, too.’

At dawn, when Sophia crept downstairs to make the baby another bottle, she discovered Ronnie lying on the old settee which had been put in the kitchen because they were reluctant to throw it out. Visitors often took advantage of it when they called when Sophia was busy baking, but was still glad to have a chat.

‘What’s this?’ she exclaimed. ‘The baby didn’t keep you awake, did he?’

He shook his head, looking miserable. ‘No. Ena refuses to let me share her bed. She says it’s all my fault: if I
hadn’t
— Well, she says “never again”. She’s made her mind up to go back to her mother as soon as she’s able. She says … she says, she doesn’t want the baby – we can keep it!’

Sophia hugged him close. ‘She’ll change her mind. She doesn’t mean it.’ As she comforted her son, she thought,
but suppose she does
…?

There was worse to come. When the doctor arrived, he told them that Ena had a high temperature, that she must be taken immediately to the cottage hospital because he suspected she was developing puerperal fever, an infection following childbirth.

The family could only watch helplessly as Ronnie carried his young wife downstairs, swathed in blankets, and out to the doctor’s car. He accompanied Ena to hospital.

Sophia sat on the old sofa, holding little Robbie, securely wrapped in his shawl.

‘What can I do, Mother?’ Evie asked her.

‘You can look after the baby for me, while your father fetches Mrs Moss to help me disinfect Ena and Ronnie’s room and strip the bed.’

In the weeks that followed, Evie was often absent from school. She was needed at home to help her mother with the baby. Her thirteenth birthday came and went, without the usual celebration, as Ena remained gravely ill in hospital. Ronnie was the only one allowed to visit her. Ena didn’t acknowledge him, she couldn’t, as she had become mentally disturbed. Whether it was a permanent state of affairs, the doctors couldn’t say, but she’d survived, when many young mothers died in such circumstances.

Evie overheard Ronnie sobbing to Sophia and Will one evening, after his return from the hospital. ‘They are going to move her to an
institution
. What am I to do?’

Sophia looked compassionately at her son. He was pale and thin. He had to keep going because of his responsibilities; at least he had his work during the day and, most important, he had little Robbie, the only good thing to come of all this sadness.

‘You are having to bring up a child after your own family are grown,’ Ronnie said.

‘My dear, we have a new purpose in life, and Evie is a great support, you know.’

‘I know. That’s a comfort to me, too.’

Evie, who’d been about to say goodnight, turned away from the door. She crept upstairs. She’d write to Mattie, she decided, because who else could she confide in?