Water Gypsies (14 page)

‘Joel – wait…’ She sounded faint and far away.

He didn’t mean to leave her so abruptly, but he had to get out of the ward, to breathe the fresh air, to steady himself. He strode along the polished floor and out through the heavy doors.

Maryann spent a month in the hospital in Oxford and it was one of the loneliest times she’d ever passed. Her body, as well as recovering from the operation, had lost a lot of blood and needed time to recuperate.

When Joel had come to see her on the ward, looking so out of place in his boots and his working clothes all blackened with coal dust, yet so strong and manly with his broad shoulders and thick beard, he had attracted a lot of stares and also a lot of conjecture about his working life.

‘D’you work on the canal then?’ Nosy next door asked the following day, after the gossip had spread. Not feeling she could lie, and in any case fiercely proud, Maryann nodded.

‘Ooh, well – my word!’ The woman stared at her as if looking at a weird new creature in a zoo. ‘Well, I’ve never come across any of you lot before … I wondered why your arms look so weathered and brown.’

When one of the nurses had given Maraynn her first bed bath, she looked down sneeringly at the grime of coal dust trapped in the creases of her skin.

‘Well, I’ve never washed anyone
quite
this filthy before.’

Maryann looked away, trying to pretend she hadn’t heard.

You try it!
her mind screamed in retort.
You try living on top of a heap of coal in all weathers with your kiddies to keep fed and washed. I’d like to see how long you’d last, you starchy little bitch!

But she couldn’t stand up for herself. Not now and not in here. She felt too beaten down. And she wasn’t going to say anything about where she came from. The nurse also asked if she always wore ‘those gold gypsy hoops’ in her ears. All Maryann said was, ‘Yes, I do.’

She was glad of the wash, though, and the clean nightdress to replace the bloodstained one she had been wearing. The new one was from the hospital store and was pale pink. But even this small amount of effort exhausted her. She seemed to have an endless capacity to sleep. They woke her to give her meagre platefuls of stew and dumplings or potato pie, and as soon as she’d eaten them and the watery junkets that followed, she would sleep again. As well as relieving her huge weariness, these long, dreamless sleeps were a welcome release from the stark, alien ward and from the hostile stares and prying questions of the woman next door. ‘
Is it true, what you did…?’
And, worst of all, the memory of Joel’s back moving away from her, as if he never wanted to see her again.

As much as she could, she kept herself to herself. Within a week the nosy body in the next bed was replaced by a reserved, middle-aged woman, who told Maryann that her husband worked for the university but was now in some army education department for the war effort. She was polite, didn’t go poking her nose in and read a great many books.

As Maryann’s body gradually recovered from the injuries it had suffered, she began to be able to move about the ward. She could go to the bathrooms by herself and along to the day room at the end. From the newspapers left in there, and from the talk among the other patients, she caught up with news about the war, more than she normally heard on the cut. A great many ships were being sunk in the Atlantic, and she picked up snippets about tighter food rations and how crimes were going unreported amid the chaos of blackout and bombing. She found she enjoyed having time to read newspapers and the few storybooks left in the room. They helped her escape. She tried not to let herself think about Joel and how much she had hurt him.

Easter came and went and spring blossomed outside. As her body healed, Maryann grew more and more restless. When the weather was fine, all she could think of was how it felt to be on the cut on days like these, with the trees all coming out and the sun on her face. She was so used to being able to step straight outside from her cabin, into the fresh air, when they were in the country that she found the stuffy, shut-in atmosphere of the ward stifling. When it rained and the drops blew against the long windows, she imagined the feel of them falling on her skin. Sometimes she would stand at the washroom window, arms folded, glad to be away from everyone and look out, wondering where, beyond those trees and buildings, the cut ran, narrow and barely acknowledged. She missed her home terribly. The fields and trees, the colourful sides of the boats and the familiar faces.

Above all, with an ache that seldom left her, she missed her children. Knowing she had taken away her chance of having any more made them all desperately precious. She trembled sometimes with the need to hold them in her arms, grieving for the children she would now never have. She had wanted to slow things down, to give herself a chance. She’d never meant it to turn out like this. At night she lay picturing them in her mind: Joley and Sally with their blond heads and Ezra’s dark one, playing on the bank near Fenny Compton or Aynho, the feel of their urgent little bodies, their grubby faces and hands, eyes full of expectant life and laughter. Did they miss her? Were they unhappy? Alice Simons assured her that they were doing very well. Maryann trusted her completely, but everything felt wrong. The family was scattered and broken up. They should all be together on the cut again. Thoughts of Ada and Esther were the most difficult to cope with. In the early days her breasts ached when they let down milk that no one could drink. As the days passed, she knew the milk was drying up. And the girls would have changed by the time she came out! Sometimes she cried in sheer frustration, which was made worse by the fact that she knew she had only herself to blame. Although a few of the other women on the ward were kind, she knew how most of them saw her. She was a wicked woman who’d done away with her baby. When they looked at her it increased her sense of shame, of being dirty in a way which water could not touch. Shame seemed to pulse like through the blood in her veins.

The days passed slowly and miserably. She did not see Joel again in all that time. Mr Barlow had sent Joel and Bobby back up to Hawkesbury Junction to do runs to the power station.

‘He’s taken it hard,’ Alice told her after his visit. ‘He said, “I ent going in there again – I can’t do it.”’ Seeing Maryann’s distraught expression she said, ‘Give him time. He’s a good boy, Joel is. He just needs to go on in his own way for a bit.’

But could Joel ever forgive her, Maryann wondered, for what she had done to herself and to his family?

Joley and Ezra had gone with their father, but the girls were still in Oxford. Children were not allowed to visit the wards, but fortunately the hospital was only a couple of roads away from Adelaide Street and Alice Simons came to see her as often as she could. Maryann was overjoyed to see her as she brought news of them. She would try to press Alice for details, but scarcely ever got more than, ‘They’re quite happy but they miss you.’ She returned to them with the simplest little notes written by Maryann for Sally: HELLO SALLY. BE A GOOD GIRL. LOVE FROM MOM XXX Sometimes Sally and Rose scribbled little pictures to send back and Maryann treasures these small masterpieces. Her favourite was Sally’s attempt at Alice’s fat black cat. She’d given it a gigantic tail, curved up over its back like a crescent moon.

Every time Alice stood up to go home, Maryann said, ‘Tell them I’ll be home as soon as I can!’

In the first week of May, Maryann finally stepped out through the hospital gates onto the Woodstock Road. Too excited to stop and take stock of her surroundings, she hurried towards Adelaide Street.

It felt strange to be wearing normal clothes again. Alice had brought her a pretty frock which she had bought secondhand, in bold blue and white checks which fitted nicely at the waist, or would have done had she not lost so much weight. It hung loosely on her for now, but she put her cardigan and coat over the top. She had no stockings, but enjoyed the feel of the air on her legs. Her hair had grown and she coiled it up at the back and pinned it. She only had a small bundle of belongings to carry.

The row of snug terraced houses in Adelaide Street looked very inviting, the patches of brick which still showed through the soot glowing a warm colour in the slanting sun. Almost running in her impatience, though her long unused legs felt wobbly, she finally arrived at Alice Simons’s front door.

‘Home at last!’ Alice greeted her. ‘Well, you’ve come just in time – I’ve got the kettle on, and potatoes baking in the oven…’ Their delicious smell was drifting through the house. But Maryann was hungry for something else.

Where are they, Auntie? I can’t wait to see them!’

She ran through to the back. ‘Sally and Rose are in the yard feeding the hens.’ Alice called after her. ‘But there’re the twins – good as gold, they are, bless them. Told you they was crawling, didn’t I?’

In the pretty cabin of a back room, Maryann found the two little girls busy with an assortment of objects to keep them amused: a handful of clothes’ pegs, a wooden spoon, an enamel bowl and a couple of cotton reels. Esther was sitting chewing determinedly at the end of the wooden spoon and Ada was crawling across the floor aiming for the open door.

‘Oh!’ Maryann cried, full of joy at the sight of them and flung herself down on her knees, scooping up Ada. But the child gave a squeal of alarm and her face crumpled. She squirmed so much that Maryann had to put her down.

‘Esther?’ Maryann pleaded. The other twin stared at her with mild curiosity and continued to chew on the spoon.

‘They don’t know me!’ Tears filled Maryann’s eyes. She felt cut to the heart. ‘They don’t know I’m their mom!’

‘Don’t you worry,’ Alice Simons reassured her. She carried in the tea tray and set it on the folding table with quick, birdlike movements. ‘You sit with them a while and they’ll soon come round. They’re just not used to you, dear. Why don’t you come and see Sally and Rose?’

They stepped out into the tiny garden. At the end of it the two girls were leaning over the chicken run, scattering seed through the wire.

‘That’ll do now – come and see who’s here!’ Alice called.

The children turned, and Maryann saw an expression in Sally’s eyes that she would never forget. There was a tiny pause as she registered who was there, then a breaking in of relief, of absolute happiness, like a light going on.

‘Mom?’ she faltered. ‘MOM!’ And her little legs couldn’t seem to carry her fast enough, her wheat-coloured hair flying, face stretched with eagerness. Rose, less sure, toddled behind, dark curls bobbing, and Maryann squatted and gathered first one then the other into her arms.

‘Thank God,’ she heard herself saying as her tears wet their firm cheeks. ‘Oh my lovelies, my lovely little girls!’

Fourteen

‘It’s our dad!’

Sally’s shriek of excitement rang through the house seconds after they heard the knock at the door.

‘Let’s let him in then,’ Alice Simons said, hurrying along the hall as fast as her stiff hips would allow. ‘No good keeping him on the doorstep.’

Maryann tensed. She was feeding Esther in the back room – to her great relief she had been able to get back to breastfeeding – and heard the giggles of excitement as Joel gathered Sally and Rose into his arms. She heard Joel’s father come downstairs and his voice; then light footsteps hurried towards her and halted hesitantly at the door.

‘Joley!’ She was overjoyed at the sight of him. He looked bigger to her, and older, and his fair hair had grown down to his collar, thick and curly. His clothes were filthy, but he looked healthy and strong, standing there in the doorway, and she saw with a pang just how much he was trying to be a little man.

‘Come ’ere, bab.’ She held out her spare arm and Joley’s solemn face broke into a grin in spite of himself. He ran to her and she pulled him close, kissing him. At that moment, Ezra’s swarthy face appeared round the door and he launched himself at her.

‘Mom!’

‘Hey!’ she laughed, trying to cuddle them both, kissing Ezra’s black curls. ‘Mind our Esther!’

‘You awright, Mom?’ Joley’s blue eyes looked deeply into hers.

‘Yes – ’ she squeezed him round the waist – and seeing you has made me properly perfect! You been helping your dad?’

Joley nodded proudly, the soft, little-boy moment over as he tugged away from her. ‘Been steering the
Theodore
with Bobby. I done all sorts!’

‘I been steering an’ all!’ Ezra piped up. ‘And sheeting up and making tea!’

‘
Have
you?’ Maryann said admiringly.

‘Can we go and see the hens?’ Joley ran to the back door and Ezra followed. The children loved coming to Adelaide Street.

A moment later Joel was the one standing at the door, his eyes uncertain. Maryann felt herself twist inside. She felt acutely shy of him, as if the time of separation meant them starting all over again, like young lovers. Except that they were not young lovers, there was a history between them, so much to be ashamed of. She looked up timidly, moved by the sight of him back here, steadfast, in his worn old working clothes.

‘Ready to come home? he asked gently, and she saw the need for reassurance in his eyes.

Silently she nodded. There was nothing she could say now to make things better. It would have to wait.

However much she longed to be back home with the family, it was hard saying goodbye to Alice Simons and old Darius, who had been so kind to her during that week she stayed after leaving the hospital. Both of them came down to the cut. They made quite a family party that warm afternoon, Joel and Maryann each carrying a twin and everyone else bringing their modest bits of luggage.

When they got to the wharf, they saw Bobby, bucket in hand, just finishing off giving the boats a swill down. A line of washing hung along the
Esther Jane
.

‘Hello, Mrs Bartholomew.’ In his shyness he turned formal with her. Usually he called her Maryann.

‘You’ve got them looking nice,’ she told him, a smile breaking across her face. It was so lovely to be back, to see the boats and smell the cut again! And in the cabin she exclaimed, ‘Oh, Joel – you’ve got it so clean! It looks ever so nice!’