Only a Mother Knows (13 page)

‘How is she?’ Sergeant Dawson asked, hurrying into the front room, looking highly embarrassed that his neighbours were witnessing his poor deluded wife behaving like this. ‘She’s been ill for some time,’ Archie said in a low voice to Sally, and to Olive who had come with him after taking the news to the police station. Archie put his arm around his wife, who appeared not to even know him.

‘I think …’ Sally looked doubtful but carried on. ‘In my professional opinion, Mrs Dawson needs more expert care than I could give her.’ Much to her relief a short while later their general practitioner came to give his assessment too.

‘I telephoned him from the station,’ said Archie, shocked to hear that his wife would have to be admitted to hospital for complete rest and recuperation.

‘Don’t worry about Barney,’ said Olive, taking the matter out of Archie’s hands. ‘I’ll make sure he’s well looked after whilst you are busy with other matters.’

‘Thank you, Olive, I won’t forget your kindness,’ Archie said whilst Olive dismissed his grateful thanks with a wave of her hand.

A short while later, after a cup of cocoa and a round of toast, Barney was shown to Dulcie’s bed, as she was on nights at the munitions factory. Olive was sure she wouldn’t mind – especially if nobody told her. And anyway, she silently reasoned, the boy would be up by the time Dulcie got home from work tomorrow.

When she went into the kitchen she was a little surprised to see Sally sitting at the table where she had left her nursing a cocoa cup, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d been crying.

‘Is something the matter, Sally?’ Olive asked in her gentle tones as she sat at the table.

Sally took a huge breath and said in a short faltering voice, ‘George joined his ship last night.’ She couldn’t continue for a while, and then she said, ‘I’m being silly, I know. Girls are saying goodbye to their chaps every day, I’ve got to be strong.’

Olive listened to Sally and once more cursed this ugly war as she took her handkerchief from the sleeve of her cardigan and gave her nose a jolly good blow whilst attempting a quivering smile.

‘Oh, Olive, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you too.’

‘You didn’t, Sally.’ Olive’s chin wobbled as she spoke. ‘I’m being silly. It’s the soap shortage and the grey bread and the rise in income tax … and Tilly’s joined the ATS.’

‘Oh, Olive,’ Sally cried, coming to her side and giving her a hug, ‘when will it all end? That’s what I want to know.’

‘You and I, both.’ Olive gave a huge sigh and got up from the table.

‘When will she go?’ Sally asked, knowing George had had to be given special permission to leave the hospital.

‘Three weeks,’ Olive said, her voice wavering, ‘and please don’t be nice to me, that would finish me off altogether.’

Only a Mother Knows

Tilly’s eyes were still closed as she listened to the hubbub of activity downstairs, to the chatter and sporadic laughter of her mother and Agnes who were probably getting everything ready for this afternoon’s little get-together with the neighbours before she left for her new life in the army. Dulcie was in the next room after her night shift at the munitions factory and Sally was on duty at the hospital, but she would be here at five o’clock this afternoon to see her off, she was sure.

Even though her eyes were still closed Tilly could not stop the build-up of tears behind her lids and she knew that this time tomorrow she would be rising from a different bed surrounded by strangers, and the thought momentarily frightened the life out of her. Apart from the booklet she had been given telling her what she had to bring, and where she had to be at a specific time, she knew nothing of the Auxiliary Training Service except that she liked the look of their glamorous uniform. Tilly wondered if that was enough to change her life forever. She wouldn’t stir to the sound of her mother’s voice gently rousing her from sleep with a welcome cup of tea and her usual breakfast of hot porridge and freshly made toast either.

However Tilly knew that wasn’t the reason her heart was near to breaking, far from it, if the truth be told. She was looking forward to branching out on her own, away from her mother’s ever-watchful eyes, and the more difficult the process was to become a useful member of the Forces the better she would like it. Because then, hopefully, it would take her mind off Drew and his treacherous betrayal. She hadn’t heard a word from him and now, more than ever, she was certain his father had persuaded him not to come back to England or her.

Turning to face the wall before slowly opening her tear-soaked eyes Tilly realised she had done the right thing joining the ATS; it felt good to be doing her bit for the country even if it was for all the wrong reasons. Her mother was capable, stoic and honest and Tilly wanted her mum to be proud of her and not have to witness her daughter dissolving into a gibbering wreck because of a man who freely made false promises.

Tilly knew her thoughts were all over the place, but recognised that the one thing in she was afraid of, especially now, was saying goodbye – she had never been good with it. She couldn’t cope like others seemed able to do, hold her head high and get on with life. No, she clung with magnetic tenacity to the things she held dear, refusing to let go of people who mattered.

But it was futile to even try to rid herself of this painful longing for Drew whilst she still lived at home in the comfort of her friends and family. Every day she hurried to the hallway at the sound of the letter box and fall of envelopes, hoping that one of them was from her beloved Drew. And every day her heart fractured a little more as she found it more difficult to cope here in London.

Tilly knew she had to fill her days with something other than hopes and dreams of her future with Drew. The only thing she could think of was to serve her country. And any moment now her mother would call her to go down for breakfast, and she would pretend everything was fine, like it was just another day, and she would move automatically with practised ease through the day. Tomorrow her new independence would begin.

Tilly watched her mother busying herself, going back and forth with plates of sandwiches covered in damp tea towels from the kitchen to the front room, and imagined she felt the same gnawing pain.

It would be just as difficult for Mum, Tilly realised. They had been so close, much closer than many mothers and daughters; for a long time their lives had revolved around, and depended upon, each other and now that was going to change. And it was all her fault. Mum was trying to put a brave face on it as usual; Tilly knew she would never wear her heart on her sleeve. That just wasn’t Olive’s style.

Tilly admired her mother’s generation of women who’d had to be strong, like women of her own time whose men had been called to war; they kept their fragile feelings to themselves and didn’t fall apart or run away. How things had changed since the beginning of the war, Tilly thought as she folded the clean washing she had just brought in from the garden, and how many more challenges would women like her mother fight to overcome, before the war was over and done with?

All morning Olive had been on the go, whilst knowing Tilly wanted to sit down and talk to her. But it was her way of coping. She had to keep busy to stop her mind dwelling on the thought of her daughter leaving home and … Her mind couldn’t even contemplate the thought that Tilly might not come back. It really couldn’t.

The day of Tilly’s departure for ATS training in the Surrey countryside had come all too quickly for Olive’s liking. But then again, she quietly admitted to herself, even if her only daughter had not been called up for another five years, it would still have been too soon.

Olive had decided to hold a small farewell get-together for Tilly, with Dulcie, Sally and Agnes, Sergeant Dawson and not forgetting poor, young Barney, Nancy and her family, a few other selected neighbours – anyone who could take her mind off her daughter’s imminent departure and keep the tears at bay. Nancy’s ten-year-old grandson, Freddy, who was staying for a couple of weeks as Nancy’s daughter was in hospital having her new baby, would also be in attendance.

Mrs Dawson was now recuperating in a country hospital where it was peaceful, away from the bustle of the city, and Olive had suggested to Archie that she would pop in whilst he was at work to make sure everything was as it should be until Mrs Dawson came home. Her mind whirled, then she smiled momentarily as she looked out of the back window, watching the two boys playing war games out in the garden, and realised that Archie had done a wonderful job keeping young Barney in hand lately. Even though his wife had been taken poorly, there weren’t nearly as many complaints about the young lad’s rough-and-ready behaviour of late as there had been when he first came to Article Row – well, not from most people anyway. Nancy was another matter altogether; Olive was certain that the woman would find fault in angels.

True to form, this was the first thing that Nancy mentioned. ‘I hope that Barney boy isn’t too much for my Freddy, he’s not used to any rough-and-tumble and prefers a nice game of chess or a jigsaw puzzle, having been brought up properly.’

‘Yes, Nancy, you have told me,’ Olive sighed patiently, ‘and from what I can see you are right; your daughter has done a marvellous job all on her own. Especially since her husband joined the other millions of men who had the audacity to leave their wives to bring up their children, whilst they went off enjoying themselves saving the country from the hands of dictators!’ Olive took a deep breath whilst Nancy stood open-mouthed and speechless. ‘But playing in the back garden with Barney won’t do Freddy any harm.’

Olive wanted today to be perfect for Tilly and she didn’t want Nancy to spoil it with her carping. She left her neighbour looking out of the window and, picking up her tray, went to collect empty tea cups.

Dulcie seemed quiet today and was deep in thought in the chair near the door, Olive noted, knowing her lodger’s subdued behaviour was most uncharacteristic; she would normally revel in a good old get-together. Perhaps she would start one of her usual sing-songs around the piano in the front room later on, but right now it didn’t seem as if she had any such inclination.

As Olive walked towards the kitchen door she noticed Archie further down the hallway. ‘Excuse me, Nancy, I think I hear the kettle boiling,’ she said as her neighbour, with obvious rage written all over her face, made a beeline for her.

‘He’s definitely got his eye on you, Olive, it’s as plain as the nose on your face,’ Nancy began.

But Olive was in no mood to hear the woman’s comments; she was far too busy making sure her other guests were properly looked after. Also, she didn’t want Nancy to see Archie being his usual amiable self towards her. She would only jump to the wrong conclusion – again.

As Archie drew near, Olive suddenly felt a glow of guilt suffuse her neck and face; she’d thought of him a lot since Nancy had insinuated he might have feelings that were more than neighbourly, much more than was proper for a widow to think of a married man. She ought to be ashamed of herself. And she was, especially since his wife was in hospital.

‘I must go and see to this tea,’ Olive said hastily, heading for the kitchen.

‘Something I said?’

Olive heard the amusement in Sergeant Dawson’s deep voice that could do one of two things: either put the fear of God into the most hardened felon or fill the heart of the most frightened child with hope and security. And for this, at least, Olive felt a tremendous respect for the man who had looked after his ailing wife with tender loving care, as well as helping to bring up the wayward child of a serving soldier.

In the kitchen she smiled to herself, relieved that everybody, apart from Nancy, seemed to be having a good time, especially Tilly, who was now laughing at something somebody had said. Olive was glad she hadn’t made a song and dance about her going into the Forces. In reality she had no choice, all the young ones were being called up to do their bit and it now happened to be Tilly’s turn. However, knowing she had to go didn’t make the parting any easier.

Olive had decided to have a little tea party on the Sunday afternoon because Tilly was leaving by train later that day and it was much easier to have everybody around her than mope around, walking on eggshells in case she set Tilly off crying or vice versa. No, it was much better to do it this way, she thought, putting the washed cups on the draining board. Having saved her points and coupons Olive had purchased a few luxuries especially for today, including a tin of red salmon – pink was almost impossible to get hold of even if she did have the money and the coupons – which she used to make sandwiches. Agnes had brought in the last of the home-grown lettuce, radish and spring onions from the little garden and Olive managed to make a nice salad with a few ounces of ham she had gleaned from the butcher on the high street yesterday.

The ham was a bit dry around the edges where it had been lying in the sunny window but she managed to shave that off and it was as good as new now. What with all that and the Victoria sponge she made with her dried-egg ration, Olive was quite happy with the way things turned out, especially when Nancy brought a jelly she had made along with some condensed milk. She wasn’t all bad, Olive thought with a smile.

Taking the clean, damp tea towels off the food, Olive made sure everything was perfect before putting it on the table in the front room and was so engrossed in her task she didn’t hear Archie coming into the kitchen with his empty cup. His little cough of introduction startled her and she wheeled around, her eyes wide as she gave an involuntary gasp of surprise.

‘I hope you’re not eating all the goodies.’ Archie gave a low rumble of laughter.

‘You gave me such a start,’ she said, turning back to the tray as much to hide her self-conscious flaming expression as to pour half an inch of milk into each clean cup.

‘I’m sorry, Olive,’ Archie said in his usual friendly way. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you, is there anything I can do to help?’

Olive, conscious of the nearness of this man whose wife was going through such a difficult time, shook her head, knowing he was doing his best to put a brave face on his domestic difficulties.