Only a Mother Knows (27 page)

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Olive,’ Archie said as he opened the door.

‘Don’t give it another thought,’ Olive said, patting his hand and feeling so utterly wretched for him. ‘If we can’t pull together at a time like this what can we do?’

‘I’ll be at the station …’ Archie said before replacing his helmet and, head bent against the cold wind, he disappeared up the street.

Only a Mother Knows

A lot had happened over the last few months, Agnes thought. Tilly had joined up and Dulcie had moved into a swanky flat above David’s chambers, and the house was usually a quieter place for that, she thought as her hand shot out and silenced the ringing alarm so as not to wake anybody else up at such an early hour.

There was no more frantic rushing around to get ready for dances, nor demands for hot water to bathe in on Saturday nights. Agnes smiled at the thought as she clambered out of bed and, shivering in the December chill, reached under her pillow for her woollen dressing gown, recalling the time when Olive, Sally and herself had been invited to go and see Dulcie’s new home after they all attended Mrs Dawson’s funeral.

They had been speechless when Dulcie gave them a guided tour of the flat, and their jaws dropped at the expensive high-class furniture that graced the spacious rooms. No utility here, as the ‘standard emergency furniture’ was commonly known, thought Agnes. Not for Dulcie the plain, simple plywood tables, chairs and cabinets that had been brought in as the furniture situation had been made worse when the government had cut the already small timber quota.

Dulcie obviously didn’t have to worry about the Board of Trade’s decision that a young bride should choose from the new utility range of household goods they decreed were needed to fully furnish the new home. No, thought Agnes with a sigh, Dulcie’s home was plush and expensively furnished and a long way from anything she and Ted would ever be able to afford, and although she wasn’t jealous of Dulcie’s triumph, it would be nice to think that she and Ted might have a nice home one day, even if it wasn’t up to her friend’s standard.

Agnes had to admit that Dulcie had been kindliness itself, the perfect hostess. Wincing as she slipped her foot into a freezing slipper she dreamed of the day when she and Ted could entertain visitors in their own home, which would be years away she knew, given that Ted’s two sisters were not old enough to go out and support themselves and his mum, like Ted did. But for now she would continue to dream. A family of her own was a long way off so there was no use torturing herself over it; anyway, she had Alice to spoil and care for.

She was glad that Sally had settled down with Alice, and she was happy that the two girls were a proper little family now, especially since George had joined the Royal Navy and Sally was so busy with work at the hospital and looking after Alice she didn’t have much time to worry about him, or at least she gave that impression. Furthermore, Agnes thought, wasn’t it lovely that Sally and Callum were now friends again.

Agnes pondered on how much her life had changed over the last few years as she straightened the sheets and blankets, a habit she had gained from her time in the orphanage and had never forgotten. Olive always told her to leave the bed-making as she would do it along with the rest of them, but Agnes didn’t like to put her out, her landlady had enough to do.

However, she felt that Sally hurried home from work with a new purpose in her life these days. She’d even and admitted to her and Olive that she was ever so glad she hadn’t put Alice in an orphanage as she’d originally wanted to. Agnes clearly recalled the time when Alice was first brought here last year by Callum, just before her first birthday. Smiling, she realised that she had fallen in love with the child the moment she saw her and, being an orphan herself, she knew exactly how lost and afraid Alice felt.

Creeping along the landing now, Agnes heard a small mewling sound when she neared Olive’s bedroom door and, gently pushing it open a fraction, she saw that Alice had kicked her blankets off and was huddled in the corner of the borrowed cot.

Agnes’s heart immediately went out to the small girl as memories of the little ones who had been in her care at the orphanage sprang to mind. Tiptoeing to the cot she tucked the woollen blankets around the little body, and watched as Alice relaxed into its warmth.

Letting her thoughts wander as she descended the stairs as quietly as she could, Agnes recalled Callum promising to come back and see baby Alice soon. However that had been nearly a year ago; his ship was somewhere in the Atlantic now and she realised he wouldn’t see her any time soon. When he finally did get back on dry land she was sure he would be thrilled at the progress the child had made since she had lived in this house with all her new aunts.

Busying herself, Agnes put the kettle onto the gas stove before going into the sitting room to light the fire ready for the others getting up. The place would not only be a bit warmer, it would mean one less thing for Olive to do, as she would be busy enough with Alice and young Barney to look after.

Agnes knew Olive was thrilled when Tilly wrote and told her the news that she might be moving back to London, but the information had to be kept under everybody’s hat. The only cloud was that she would not be moving back home, she would be staying near the sweetshop – the name Tilly had given Whitehall. Meanwhile she had learned to drive a lorry as well as fix one.

After toasting a slice of bread and covering it with a scrape of margarine and downing a hot cup of weak, sugarless tea Agnes was ready for work. It was still dark outside and she noted that once she would have felt apprehensive about going outdoors at such a time, but not any more; she had got over her feelings of fear when she found Nancy’s grandson that Sunday in the subterranean tunnel and realised that she was an adult now. And adults should be afraid of nothing.

As she headed for the front door she heard a voice from the top of the stairs.

‘Agnes,’ Olive whispered so as not to wake baby Alice, ‘in all the mayhem I forgot to tell you, there’s a letter for you – it’s been there a couple of days, sorry.’

‘Righto,’ Agnes whispered back, picking up the envelope lying on the three-legged table in the hallway. Turning it over, she read: Carlton, Mending and Carlton, Solicitors. A tingle zinged up the middle of her ribcage as Agnes let the name sink in. What a solicitor would want with her she didn’t know. Suddenly afraid, she slipped the letter in her pocket; she would open it later.

Carlton, Mending and Carlton. Agnes silently mouthed the name of the solicitors who had contacted her to ask if she would attend their office in the strictest confidence. The letter went on to say that they had information which would be to her advantage and so would also like to see some form of identification. Agnes knew she only had her identity card and hoped that it would be enough. But why must she keep it a secret and tell nobody?

Watching the wooden escalator bringing people up from the lower line, Agnes’s eyes eagerly awaited sight of Ted, who’d said he would meet her here after work, but there was still no sign of him moments after everybody else had gone their own way. She distinctly remembered him asking her to meet him ‘up top’, as he called Chancery Lane, when they were on the same shift, and she was always there first as she was so eager to see him.

Her thoughts were all over the place as she waited, recalling the time when she thought Ted wanted nothing to do with her. She’d had the audacity to lay in wait – right on this very spot – to catch him before he started his shift, knowing she had to find out once and for all what she had done so wrong that he didn’t want to be her friend any more.

Not seeing Ted had made her so miserable she’d brazened it out and asked him what she had done to offend him. But he’d assured her she had done nothing and then went on to explain that him being the sole breadwinner he didn’t think it was right she should have to wait until his sisters were grown-up before they could become better acquainted and she had assured him that she was in no hurry.

The canteen, like now, had been busy in the evening with people rushing home from work as others were starting their nightly visit to the underground with their pillows and covers ready for their ritual of sleeping down there in case of more air raids.

There had been just as many uniformed people crowding the city streets then too. Agnes could hardly remember a time when there weren’t uniforms of many different nations in London; it seemed as if they had been here forever.

She shivered as she hopped from one foot to the other to keep the circulation moving in her frozen feet, and wished it was still summer. Being born in July she wasn’t very fond of the cold weather. Ted told her that his little sister Sonia wasn’t fond of the hotter days as her lungs had suffered because of the heavily polluted London air and would be better off in the countryside.

Ted’s mother would never allow her daughters to be evacuated to the countryside, out of her sight, Agnes knew. Both his sisters were over the age when their mother could have gone with them, and Mrs Jackson announced she had no intentions of staying in London without her family. Agnes privately thought there were two ways of looking at that situation; one was that Ted’s mother was scared of living alone in London, and who wouldn’t be? The other was that she could not relinquish control of her family to the care of someone else. Agnes surmised it might be a bit of both.

Looking after her daughters was one of the reasons Mrs Jackson gave for not being able to go out to work. If Mrs Jackson could have worked she would have saved Ted the strain of toiling all the hours God sent to help pay for Sonia’s expensive medical treatment as well as trying to keep his home and family in some sort of respectable order. It was a strain on them both, Agnes knew, but the day Ted told her that it was his duty to look after his family was the day Agnes knew she truly loved him. Loved him with every beat of her heart. She just wished he didn’t have to work so hard, that was all.

She also wished his mum liked her a bit more, but, thinking about it now, at least she had Ted’s love and that was the main thing, she supposed, as she’d never had anyone love her before.

And now she had a letter that told her a solicitor had information that might be to her advantage. It didn’t seem credible, her getting a letter from a solicitor, but it gave her a thrill of excitement she’d never felt before and she wished she could tell Ted about it. ‘Carlton, Mending and Carlton,’ she whispered.

‘Are you talking to yourself, Agnes?’ Ted’s deep melodic voice came from behind her and made her jump a little as she was so deep in thought. Agnes gave a shaky laugh and felt her colour rise to a warm glow as she stuffed the envelope back in her pocket.

‘I was just trying to remember the words of a song,’ she fibbed. She didn’t like keeping things from Ted because she didn’t think it was right that a courting couple should have secrets from each other. She wished she could give him the good news now; he would be so happy for her, she was sure. And she told him everything, usually.

But the letter said she had to keep the news under her hat, and what with the official stamp, it might be against the law to tell anybody. She could feel a dark dread descend. However, she must stay calm, because if she let the cat out of the bag then there was no telling what might happen. What if it was secret railway business? What if she’d done something wrong?

Agnes was quiet as they began the walk home; she’d never had any dealings with solicitors and she didn’t want any now. If it was important enough, she thought, she would have a word with Olive who might agree to go with her to the solicitors if she asked, what with her being like the mother she never had, because Agnes was sure she would never have the courage to go alone. And it wasn’t that she was deceiving Ted, she was just postponing the news until she knew what was going on. Yes, that’s right, until she knew what was going on.

‘Isn’t it a lovely night,’ Agnes said in a whispery, faraway voice, hardly able to see her hand in front of her, oblivious to the thick fog that cloaked them, her face wreathed in a contented smile as she and Ted walked along together. She loved it when they were alone like this, regardless of the weather.

‘You don’t half say some daft things sometimes, Agnes.’ Ted gave a little laugh as he tied his woollen muffler around his neck and put his hand in the trouser pocket of his driver’s uniform. With a nod, he invited Agnes to link her arm through his, which she obediently did. She liked linking arms with Ted and snuggling close in London’s winter smog, it made her feel safe, and she was so looking forward to tonight. Olive was off out somewhere with Mrs Windle to a WVS meeting, and Sally was on late duty at Bart’s hospital, which meant that she and Ted would have the house to themselves whilst baby-sitting little Alice. Agnes sighed happily. She couldn’t wait to be tucked up on the sofa listening to a detective story on the wireless and imagining what it would be like when she and Ted were actually married and had their own place.

‘What’s the matter with you tonight, Agnes? You’re like a cat on a hot wall.’

‘I’m just happy, that’s all,’ Agnes replied as they made their way down Chancery Lane.

‘I’m glad to hear that because I wanted to tell you something and I hope you don’t mind, love,’ said Ted, ‘but Mum asked me if I’d stay in and look after the girls tonight as she’s been invited to a friend’s house for a little get-together.’

‘Oh,’ said Agnes, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. ‘I told Sally we’d stay in and look after little Alice until Olive gets back from Mrs Windle’s, don’t you remember me telling you yesterday?’ It wasn’t often they had the place to themselves and how often did they get a chance to be completely on their own in a house? A whole house to themselves was a lovely idea, seeing as it might be difficult to ever have one themselves, what with the bomb-damaged properties now littering London. Agnes knew that finding a place of their own – when they eventually did marry – was going to be all but impossible. Spending a whole evening alone together had put a spring in her step all day. But she didn’t say anything.