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Authors: Annie Murray

BOOK: War Babies
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Miraculously, Irene’s face seemed unscathed, as she and Ray had had one of their noisiest ding-dongs ever last night, yelling and crashing until so late that Mo went and banged on the door
and told Ray he’d fetch the police if they didn’t knock it off. This had a measure of success, as Mo guessed it would.

Arm in arm they advanced across the yard.

‘Ray’s brother’s getting wed,’ Irene announced loudly. She half-turned to the girls: ‘Reet, Shirl – come on now! We’ve got to get along to the
church!’

‘What about Evie?’ Rachel asked indignantly.

‘Oh, we’re not taking Evie, ’er’s too little.’ Irene waved a dismissive hand.

‘Well, who the hell d’you think’s going to look after her then?’ Rachel demanded.

‘You’ll keep an eye on ’er for me, won’t you?’ Irene said as the two of them sashayed off along the entry. ‘Yow’m not going anywhere, are yer?’
And off she went.

‘She’s the flaming end, she really is!’ Rachel erupted. ‘Fancy just going off like that and leaving Evie! She’d never’ve even said if I hadn’t asked.
God, it’s a good job Gladys isn’t here.’

Dolly’s eyes followed Melanie and Evie as they re-emerged from the house, Evie chewing hungrily on a crust of bread.

‘Good job you’re here, bab,’ Dolly said. ‘That Irene knows you’ve got a soft spot for Evie.’ An impish grin escaped her. ‘Fancy wearing that outfit to a
wedding, though – talk about red hat and no drawers!’

Rachel managed a laugh. ‘P’raps his other missis is going to be there – Irene wants to stand out.’

‘She’s going to do that, all right,’ Dolly giggled. ‘I mean, I like a bit of colour . . . She’s a case that one, and no mistake.’ Dolly took another long drag
on her cigarette. ‘Silly cow.’ Her face sobered again and she looked at Tommy. ‘How’s he getting on, Rach?’

‘He’s all right,’ Rachel said with a sigh in her voice.

Dolly took in her tone. ‘You all right, bab? It must be a job, looking after him.’

Rachel nodded. In the face of Dolly’s sympathy, the tears came. She leaned forward, hugging herself. ‘It’s not Tommy . . . Well, it is in a way, but I’m so used to him.
It’s Danny . . .’ Her hurt and upset really came out then. She was glad that the other neighbours were not within earshot. Ma Jackman was up the other end, wearing a spotty pinner and
beating the guts out of a rug that was hanging over the line. Rachel didn’t want the whole world to hear her woes.

‘Is he finding it a bit difficult to settle?’ Dolly asked.

Rachel looked into Dolly’s kind, pretty face. ‘He doesn’t like Tommy,’ she sobbed. ‘He said to me the other day that he didn’t think he was his son. And
he’s – well, he’s so angry and unhappy. I don’t know what’s the matter with him. He’s not the Danny I married. I don’t know him any more. And I thought
he’d help me . . .’ Her pity for herself welled up. She longed to feel that Danny was on her side, and on Tommy’s! Letting her tears flow, she added, ‘I want my old Danny
back.’

‘Oh, love –’ Dolly dropped her cigarette stub, grinding it under her heel, and put her arm around Rachel’s shoulders, her eyes full of sympathy. ‘I can see
it’s not easy for you – either of you. You look worn to a frazzle. But there’s something else I don’t think you’ve faced up to, bab.’

Rachel looked up at her, wet-eyed and startled.

‘If Mo had gone, if he’d been the right age, it might’ve been the same. But we’re both older – ’specially him, of course, the old bugger. At your age, four
years is a lifetime. The way Danny sees it, you’re not the woman he married either. You
are
different, Rach. You’re both four years older, you’ve been bringing up two
little ones on your own, one of them giving you more to worry about than most. Look at yourself – you’re not the kid you were when he left, are you? Just think about it.’

Rachel sat feeling dazed. Had she changed? She didn’t feel so different. She was still the same old Rachel, surely, though thinner and more worn?

‘You’re a woman now, Rach. When Danny left you were still kids. You’ve both got a lot of catching up to do and it’s going to take time.’

‘I do love him, Dolly,’ Rachel said in a heartbroken voice. ‘I do.’

‘I know you do.’ Rachel could feel Dolly’s warm hand stroking her back. ‘Course you do, bab.’

‘I don’t know what to do to make things better.’

‘You’ll have to give him attention. They like that, fellers do. They’re like big kids. Even ordering them about – it makes them feel important. Danny’s a lost child
as well, Rach, remember that. You’ll have to not let this little man get in the way of everything.’ She reached over and stroked Tommy’s hand. ‘However beautiful he
is.’

Forty-Five

‘Feeding him a bit early, aren’t you?’ Gladys said as Rachel sat spooning food into Tommy.

‘I just thought I’d try and get him fed before Danny gets in,’ Rachel said.

It was Monday. They had spent an uneasy Sunday with Danny out a lot of the time and withdrawn when he was at home. Rachel had taken Dolly’s words as gospel and was doing everything she
possibly could to make Danny feel that he was the centre of her attention. When they made love last night she was as affectionate as she knew how to be and they had cuddled each other. But she
found that while she could get a bit closer to Danny in bed, holding him, trying to show him how much she loved him, he was still withdrawn from her and any closeness soon wore off when they had to
get on with daily life.

Gladys gave her a straight look. ‘He’s got to get used to being home,’ she said. ‘Whether he likes it or not –’ she gestured at Tommy – ‘this is
how it is. Look, go and meet him. I’ll finish feeding Tommy.’

‘Oh, thanks, Auntie!’ Rachel’s spirits leapt. She caught a sudden glimpse of being young again, as if going out courting.

Quickly pulling on her coat and hat, she went out into the overcast afternoon. As she walked along the road it felt very strange to be out without the children. She felt a sudden sense of
freedom, but also as if a large part of her was missing. She headed towards Summer Lane, picturing herself standing outside the camera factory and Danny catching sight of her there, waiting for
him. She wanted his face to light up the way it used to when he met her out of Bird’s Custard.

She was so busy daydreaming that she did not notice the little figure walking along towards her, head down, in a royal-blue coat. It was only when she was up close that she said, ‘Oh,
hello, Mrs O’Shaughnessy! I didn’t see you for a minute.’

Netta’s mother looked up and Rachel saw a terrible distress in her eyes. She was not weeping, but her whole face was distorted by grief.

‘Oh, now Rachel, I was on my way to find you, darlin’. Come with me to our Netta, will you – such a terrible thing . . .’ She took Rachel’s arm.

‘What is it? Is she having the baby?’ Rachel said.

Mrs O’Shaughnessy shook her head. ‘She’s after having it this morning – in the small hours. The poor wee thing never uttered a cry. There was no life in it. Oh,
it’s a terrible thing seeing them like that!’ Tears started in her eyes as she said this. ‘Come and be with her a while, will you? She’s not in a good way.’

Very torn, Rachel glanced along the street. How could she refuse to go and see Netta? And there was no sign of Danny yet.

When they got into the little house Mrs O’Shaughnessy whispered, ‘Patsy and little Clare are next door with Mrs Flynn – I’ll have to be fetching them in a minute. You go
up, darlin’, and I’ll make us a cup of tea. Our Netta’s in her bed.’

Her heart very heavy, Rachel crept up to the bedroom.

‘Mammy?’ she heard Netta call, in a small, desolate voice. ‘Is that you?’

‘It’s me – Rach,’ she replied softly. Going into the room she saw Netta lying on the bed. All signs of the birth in the night had been cleared away. Netta’s face
was raw with crying and she looked very small and limp with sorrow. Rachel sat down and took her hand. ‘I’m ever so sorry, Net. So sad for you.’

Netta’s brows pulled into a frown. ‘I’m never doing it again,’ she said, as more tears trickled from her eyes. Rachel’s own tears flowed in sympathy. ‘Not
ever, not after that. I’ve lost all heart for it. Francis’ll have to get used to it.’ She looked away, her face full of pain.

‘You’ve two lovely children, Net,’ Rachel pointed out.

‘Count your blessings? Is that what you’re saying?’ Netta’s voice was bitter, but only a little.

‘No. Well, yes. I s’pose. Before you had Patsy you never even knew if . . . Well, if you’d have one at all.’

‘I know.’ She sat up, reached for a hanky and blew her nose, then stared bleakly ahead of her. ‘It’s just the saddest thing in the world, thinking there’s going to
be a new life, and then there isn’t. Even when you’ve already got fine children.’ She wiped her eyes again. ‘I know I’ll just have to get over it. I just need a little
time – and not to hurt so in my body. Every twinge reminds me.’

‘Oh, Net,’ Rachel said.

Netta looked at her. ‘Supposing your Tommy . . . I mean, I don’t mean to be nasty, but d’you ever wish you hadn’t had him?’

Rachel wanted to rush into saying,
No, of course not!
She searched her heart. ‘There have been moments,’ she said. ‘Yes, there have. I suppose really, I don’t
wish I’d never had him – he’s my little man and I can’t imagine life without him. I just wish he’d been born different – just normal, with a better chance so I
wouldn’t have to worry so much about him.’

The two girls looked tearfully at each other. When Mrs O’Shaughnessy brought the tea up, she found them holding each other in a sympathetic embrace.

By the time Rachel got home, Gladys told her that Danny had been in and gone out again.

‘Down the pub, I think,’ she said, sounding very annoyed. ‘I thought you’d gone out to meet him. Where the hell did you get to?’

Rachel explained what had happened and Gladys’s face softened. ‘Oh, the poor wench,’ she said. ‘She’s not had a lot of luck, that one.’

When Danny got back later, fresh from beer and male company and a degree or two more cheerful, she explained to him what had happened.

‘Oh well, can’t be helped,’ he said, whether about her missing him or about Netta’s baby she was not sure. She thought they might make love later, at least be close for a
little while, but as soon as he got into bed he fell into a deep, snoring sleep. She sat and looked down at him feeling as if she couldn’t win, as if every time she tried to meet him, she
missed him.

The week went on like that. Tommy had a cold and was restless at night, waking because he could not breathe through his nose and she had to get up and pacify him. Once it was just as she and
Danny had begun kissing in bed. Hearing the grizzling sounds from the floor below, Rachel stiffened.

‘I’ll have to go,’ she said. ‘He won’t stop now.’ Danny rolled away from her cursing angrily. By the time she had settled Tommy down, Danny was asleep once
more. When they got up in the morning, they were like strangers and did not speak. As the week went on Danny became more silent than ever, yet she sensed that something was building up in him. She
felt as if he was a ticking bomb, just waiting to go off, and however much she wanted to try, she had no idea what to do to make him feel better.

On Sunday morning they had some time alone together. Danny had been out with Gladys at the market the day before, but Sunday meant church. It was a horrible day, the rain
tippling down and the yard filling with puddles. Gladys put on her best frock, her coat and hat and off she went under an umbrella. Rachel looked out glumly. She had hoped they might get out, go
for a walk, that maybe Danny would carry Tommy. Pushing the chair was slow going and she knew Danny hated being seen out with it. But there was no hope of a walk either way.

By the time the bit of breakfast was cleared away, the morning seemed to yawn ahead with nothing to fill it.

‘What can I do, Mom?’ Melly moaned. ‘I’m bored.’

Rachel took a deep breath. She felt exhausted and tense. Danny was just sitting smoking, in his own world, not making any attempt to join in with the children or responding much to anything she
said.

‘I don’t know, Melly,’ she snapped. Melanie was usually such a good girl but she was picking up everyone else’s tiredness and the tension in the room. ‘You’ll
have to sit quiet for a bit. Get your little pad of paper out and do a drawing – or play with Tommy.’

‘Tommy can’t play,’ Melly said mutinously. She sat at the table with her head on one hand and a sulky face. ‘I wish I had a
proper
brother.’

Without really meaning to, or knowing she was going to do it, Rachel lashed out and slapped Melly hard on the arm. ‘Don’t say that about your brother! How dare you say that? You know
he can’t help it.’

Melly started to cry. ‘I dain’t mean it,’ she sobbed. ‘Only I wish Tommy could play with me and he could run around. I wish Cissy was here! I got no one to play with . .
.’

Tommy was starting to snivel now. He was sensitive to other people’s moods and on the whole if they were smiling he was too.

As she started to comfort Melly and say she was sorry for hitting her, Rachel saw Danny get up and go to the door. He lifted his coat from the hook.

‘Where’re you going?’ she cried, panic rising in her. Of all weeks, when she was trying to get through to him, she needed him to stay here. I’m trying to get to you, a
voice screamed inside her. Only things keep getting in the way – can’t you see that?

‘Out,’ he said, without looking at her. ‘I’m going. I’ve had enough.’

‘Oh, Danny, don’t,’ she pleaded. ‘Please stay – I need you here.’

‘Do you?’ He turned to her, holding his cap. His face was hard and aggressive. ‘What d’you need me for, eh?’

‘I just . . . Of course I need you here . . .’ Her voice was high and tearful as she went to him. ‘Just stay in and help me,’ she begged. ‘Just be with us, Danny
– please.’

‘I said, I’m going.’ He seemed like a complete stranger.

‘Going?’ she said, not understanding. ‘Oh, Danny,
please
. Tell me what to do to make things better. You’re so . . . You’ve changed . . .’ She burst
into tears.

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