A Mother's Duty (52 page)

‘Celia’s baby’s started. And there’s nobody to help but us.’

‘Us,’ said Hannah, and she shook her head. ‘Yous needs a midwife, missus. I’m not going to be much help.’

Kitty was vexed. ‘You told me you were there when your mother gave birth several times. We should be able to manage it between us.’

‘I was only a kid then,’ said Hannah. ‘It’s fifty years or more.’

Celia groaned. ‘I’m going to die!’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Kitty sharply, turning on her because she was frightened of that very thing.

‘Perhaps she’s had a premonition,’ said Hannah with relish.

‘Shut up!’ said Kitty. ‘If you can’t help I’ll – I’ll have to manage without you.’ Her heart sank at the thought but she told herself it was only a simple matter of remembering the times she had given birth. She knew the baby’s air passages had to be cleared and the cord cut carefully; tied up in two places and cut in the middle, or else the mother might bleed to death. Again her heart seemed to plunge into her stomach.

‘Why don’t you get Great-Aunt Jane?’ said Ben’s wideawake voice.

Kitty looked up at him. ‘And who’s going to go out there on a night like this? Don’t make daft suggestions,’ she said crossly.

‘Just you get up and put two mattresses on the floor. We’re going to need light on this subject.’

‘Shouldn’t I be putting the kettle on,’ he said, sliding down from the bunk. ‘That’s what they do in the films when a woman’s having a baby. They boil kettles and kettles of water.’

Kitty groaned, thinking she could do without his daft remarks.

‘I’ll go and get thy Aunt Jane,’ said Hannah, who had got out of bed and was staring down into Celia’s sweaty, pallid face. And before Kitty could stop her, she was across the room and out of the door to the area in the yard.

‘Hannah!’ she yelled, but the old woman was gone.

Ben crossed to the door in two long strides and would have gone after her if Kitty had not pulled him back. ‘Get those mattresses off the beds. She’s going to have to rely on God to look after her.’ She went over to a cupboard and took out a tablecloth and then she hurried through into the front room and found her sewing basket which contained a pair of scissors. She returned and began to cut the cloth into strips, aware that Celia was breathing deeply and making little moans. Kitty wished John was there and prayed Hannah would get through, but whether Aunt Jane would come out while the raid was on, that was another thing. Kitty soothed herself with the thought that first babies generally took some time to arrive.

Half an hour passed and suddenly there came an ear-shattering explosion and the ground seemed to shake. Celia screamed and Ben shot to his feet. ‘That was close. I think I’ll just go and—’

‘No!’ yelled Kitty, throwing down the scissors with a shaking hand. ‘You’ll stay exactly where you are. No one else is leaving this shelter until the raid’s over.’

He sat down again but she could see he did not like doing as he was told. They waited, their ears alert for any sound of crashing overhead, but nothing seemed to be landing on the floor above them.

Another hour crawled by and another and still there was no sign of Hannah or her aunt, and Kitty’s time was now completely taken up with keeping Celia calm. Her pains were getting closer together and Kitty had visions of having to deliver the baby on her own, and of Hannah lying crushed somewhere by falling masonry.

Grey fingers of pre-dawn light were beginning to appear along the edge of the blackout curtain when the all clear sounded and Ben was out of the basement like a rabbit chased by a dog.

Kitty looked down at Celia and was torn in two. She did not want to leave the girl but she had to see what Ben was doing. ‘I’ll have to go,’ she said to Celia. ‘He’s my son.’

‘No!’ cried Celia, grasping at Kitty’s leg.

Kitty smiled. ‘Let go. I’ll be back in a few minutes. It’s not going to happen that quick.’

Celia released her and flopped back on the mattress.

Kitty climbed the steps to the yard. The sky was red with the reflection of a new dawn and in its light she could see Ben at the end of the yard which was littered with shrapnel and masonry. ‘We’ve been hit, Ma,’ he shouted. ‘It’s a good job we weren’t in bed.’

Kitty climbed over the debris and did not look back until she reached the end of the yard. It was then she was able to see that the top right hand corner of the Arcadia had been blown clean away. It gave her a terrible shock. Somehow, having escaped damage for so long, part of her had believed they would never be hit, but now she had been proved wrong and there was an enormous lump in her throat. Although by some strange fluke of providence, if there had been a fire it had gone out. ‘One of the guests was upstairs,’ she said abruptly. ‘We’d better see what’s happened to him. Besides it’s not safe to hang around here. Some more might come down.’

The pair of them went back inside. ‘Is everything OK?’ asked Celia, stretching out a hand to Kitty.

‘It’s fine,’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘I’ll just go upstairs and get some towels. We’ll need one to make a nappy for the baby.’

Before Celia could say anything, she was through the inside doorway and upstairs, followed by Ben.

The first floor was not too badly damaged but several doors had been blown off. and when she went inside the room which had been occupied she found it empty. The window had been completely blown out and the bed was missing. She and Ben dashed to the opening and looked out, and there was the bed in the street with its occupant still lying on it covered in debris. ‘Are you OK?’ she shouted.

He raised a hand and she gave a sigh of relief. Having discovered that the flight of stairs to the second floor was blocked with debris, she forced Ben downstairs, remembering to pick up some towels on the way.

Kitty and Ben had only just reached the basement when Aunt Jane and Hannah arrived. ‘What a night!’ said Jane, shaking her head, and putting down a bag. ‘This woman of yours needs a medal, Kit, or confining to Rainhill. I don’t know which.’

Kitty hugged them both, relieved more than she could say by the sight of them. ‘I thought you’d never come!’ she said, tears in her eyes. ‘We’ve been hit. Did you notice?’

‘Aye,’ said Jane. ‘It’s going to put you out of business for a while, luv, but then I suppose you could do with a rest.’ She took a snowy-white apron out of her bag, put it on and went over to the sink.

Kitty hurried over and poured hot water into the bowl. Jane washed her hands and dried them before going over to Celia. ‘Now let’s help this babby into the world. Not that it’s much of a world at the moment. Let’s be having a gander at yer, luv. Let’s have yer drawers off and open yer legs.’

‘I’m going to die,’ groaned Celia. ‘I should never have done it.’

‘We all feel like that, luv,’ said Jane soothingly. ‘Every time without fail. Isn’t that right, Kitty? It won’t be long now.’

‘If I die—’said Celia.

‘You’re not going to die,’ said Kitty, kneeling on the edge of the mattress and taking her hand and putting all thought of her hotel out of her mind.

‘If I do,’ said Celia. ‘Will you look after the baby?’

‘Of course, I will,’ said Kitty without hesitation. ‘But you’re not going to die.’

An hour later Celia’s daughter was born and whilst Jane took care of the mother, Kitty carefully wrapped the baby in a towel. ‘Oh, oh, oh, aren’t you beautiful,’ she whispered, rocking the child in her arms as its first cries echoed round the basement shelter. As she looked down at her, she had a strange feeling that Mick’s spirit was somehow with her.

It was several days before an official declared it safe for Kitty and John to venture further than the first floor and during that time they had moved Celia and the baby into the Smoking Room, Ben and John having brought down beds from the first floor. They slept in the dining room.

The Luftwaffe, having done its worst, had gone away. Viewing the damage – their bedroom and the boys’ had been completely destroyed and so had several guest rooms – Kitty realised that the hotel was going to be closed for months. Perhaps even a year! There were going to be more urgent calls for repairs than her hotel. Although, with Ben’s link with the building trade, she had hopes that maybe it might happen sooner. Fortunately they had money put by which had been intended for hot and cold water in all the rooms. She smiled grimly, then eased back her shoulders. As it was she had more on her mind than repairs to the hotel. What was she going to do about Celia and the baby?

‘I want to call her Katherine after you,’ said the girl later that day, having got out of bed far earlier than Kitty thought wise. Celia looked defiant. ‘And I want to go away.’

‘Go away where?’ asked Kitty bewildered. ‘You’ve got nowhere to go. And you know you can stay with us as long as you like. I’ll help you with the baby.’ Kitty had already lost her heart to Celia’s daughter and was helping feed and change her, Celia’s milk not having come through. Perhaps through shock or because the baby was premature.

Celia’s bottom lip trembled. ‘I can’t bear staying here. There’s too many memories.’ She moistened her mouth. ‘I’d like to join one of the forces. Hit back at the Jerries.’

‘But you can’t!’ cried Kitty. ‘What about little – Katherine.’ A thrill raced through as she said the name and glanced down at the child in a drawer lined with flannelette,

Celia cleared her throat. ‘You said if I died you’d look after her. Pretend I’ve died. Part of me feels dead anyway with Mick …’ Her voice trailed away.

For a moment Kitty stared at her, not knowing what to say. She sensed the girl was not far off breaking point. Perhaps it would be best for her to go away. Kitty touched Celia’s arm and said, ‘You do what you feel you must, love. Don’t worry about little Katherine. I’m going to have some time on my hands now.’ She walked out of the room and went in search of John.

She found him boarding up windows upstairs and without preamble told him what Celia had said and what she had decided. She finished by saying, ‘I should have asked you first but she was in such a state.’

He put down the hammer and said, ‘I know you mean well, Kit, but it’s not natural a mother wanting to leave her baby.’

Kitty wanted to say, ‘Not even with its grandmother?’ but thought he might think her mad and accuse her of wishful thinking. ‘What should I have done then,’ she said wearily. ‘Told her never to darken my doors again. I couldn’t offer her a job and she needs to earn a living.’ Her hands curled on the corner of a chest of drawers. ‘She feels strongly about money. Being penniless and dependent on someone else frightens her and I can understand that, John.’

‘She can go back to that factory until we open up again. Tell her that, Kit.’ He picked up the hammer again.

‘OK.’ Kitty left him to it and went downstairs, but she could not find Celia in the Smoking Room and when she looked in the kitchen and elsewhere she was not there either. Kitty ran out onto the pavement and looked about her but there was no sign of her. She walked to the bottom and as far as the bombed out Lewis’s building, but saw no sign of her there either. With a sense of fatalism she went back home, made a cup of tea and fed the baby before going upstairs and telling John that Celia had gone. He went out and looked for her himself but did not find her. They waited all that day for her to return. Kitty knew she was not going to come back, but it took John a couple of days before he would believe it.

A week later two letters which had been delayed in the disrupted postal services arrived. One was from a Scottish solicitor saying that John’s grandfather had died and left him his house and little else besides. The other was in Mick’s handwriting. Kitty went dizzy when she saw it and John lowered her to a chair swiftly. He took the letter from her, opened and read it.

Kitty watched him, her heart hammering so fast that she still thought she would faint. His throat convulsed and she saw there were tears in his eyes. ‘What is it?’ she whispered.

‘He’s alive,’ said John huskily. ‘The ship never went down. It took shelter in a fjord in Norway because there were that many U-boats skulking up there in the Atlantic. His ship’s in dock now in Newcastle but he won’t be able to get home.’ He handed the letter to her and went outside.

Kitty read the words greedily with the tears rolling down her cheeks and then she followed him out onto the step. ‘If only Celia had waited,’ she said.

John nodded and put his arm round her and they stood there for some time just savouring the news in the two letters and taking the fresh air.

They were about to turn and go indoors when a car drew up at the kerb. They watched as a man in a casual jacket wearing a tweed cap stepped out. At the same time the door on the other side opened and a beautiful chestnut-haired woman in a green suit and hat emerged. Kitty could not believe her eyes. It was as if God had presented her with a huge gold platter with all her dreams on it.

‘Thank God, you’re both alive,’ said Jeannie in a heartfelt voice. ‘We feared the worst when we couldn’t get through on the telephone.’

‘The lines were down and we told them not to bother getting them reconnected,’ said John in a surprisingly normal voice.

‘You were hit, though,’ said Teddy, stepping back and looking up at the damaged facade of the Arcadia.

‘It looks like it,’ said John.

At that moment Hannah came out and stared at the couple and did a double take. Kitty had still not said a word.

Jeannie stared at her father. ‘You’re not still feeling sore that we’re married?’

John shrugged and there was a slight smile on his face. ‘After what we’ve been through? I’m just glad nobody else is dead.’

‘Why who’s dead?’ asked Teddy, paling as he looked at Kitty. ‘Not our Mick?’

She smiled. ‘He was but he’s alive again. It’s John’s grandfather up in Scotland. As for you two being married, of course John’s pleased. Sometimes it just takes a parent a bit of time to realise just how grown up their children are.’ She slipped a hand through his arm, kissed his cheek and noticed he had shaved off his moustache. ‘Come on inside. We’ve a surprise for you.’

‘A nice surprise?’ said Jeannie, taking John’s arm.