Authors: June Francis
‘And we’re wondering how to get the body out without any of the guests seeing it,’ said Annie on a choke.
‘It’s not funny,’ said Kitty severely. ‘Poor old lady.’
‘At least she had a good day at the races,’ said Mick, opening the back door and setting Nelson free in the yard with the mutton bone left over from that evening’s meal.
‘That’s true,’ said Kitty, feeling a little better. She got to her feet having decided she had to know what was going on upstairs. The other two followed her.
They found Nancy and Dr Galloway in the lobby. John was just coming downstairs. ‘She’s dead all right,’ he said. ‘Where’s Hannah? She can help sort out the mess.’
‘Shush!’ hissed Kitty. ‘We don’t want everybody to know.’
‘There’s nobody here,’ said John in a low voice.
‘How do you know? There could be someone behind the Smoking Room door,’ she whispered. ‘The guests don’t like dead bodies. It would be better for us if she could have died on the way to the hospital.’
‘Perhaps I could see the body?’ said Dr Galloway in a restrained voice.
Kitty drew herself up in as dignified a manner as possible. ‘Of course.’
‘I’ll lead the way,’ said John.
Kitty went to follow them but her husband said, ‘Not you, Kit. We don’t want you getting upset in your condition. Make a pot of tea, love.’
She stared at his broad back, thinking that this time last year it would have been her duty as hotel owner to go with the doctor. She felt relegated to a lower order. ‘Tea!’ she muttered. ‘Yes, I’ll make tea!’
‘A good idea,’ called the doctor. ‘This probably won’t take long.’
It didn’t and soon Nancy, Kitty, John and Mick were sitting in the kitchen drinking tea. The doctor had gone to ring for an ambulance from his house, saying that he understood their problem and it did not matter to him where the old woman died. He would be back to escort her to the hospital and would state that she had died in the ambulance. He’d square it with the attendants.
‘What a nice man,’ said Nancy, her short plump fingers cradling a cup. ‘Really helpful! Such sad eyes, though. Is he married?’
‘A widower,’ said Kitty. ‘He lost his daughter not so long ago. He’s the doctor that Celia works for. You remember Celia?’
‘The freckled-faced girl who was here at Christmas?’
‘She hasn’t got that many freckles,’ muttered Mick, frowning. ‘Cousin Monica has more.’
‘The sun’s kisses! That’s what Ma called them,’ said Nancy. ‘I suppose he has a family.’
‘He lost a couple of brothers in the war but he does have one in Scotland and a sister, as well,’ said John, winking at Kitty.
Her earlier irritation vanished and she winked back. They had little time and privacy to themselves so if it was possible to do a little matchmaking, then why not? Nancy would be good for the doctor. She was kind, capable and full of life. It would be great having her living close by, but not right on top of them.
Dr Galloway returned ten minutes later saying the ambulance would be there in a jiffy. He was thanked and handed a cup of tea.
‘We wondered if you’d like to join us for supper tomorrow?’ said John. ‘Most folk’ll have gone by then and we’ll have the place almost to ourselves.’
The doctor hesitated. ‘I’m not very good company I’m afraid. Since Geraldine went …’ His voice trailed off.
‘We understand,’ said Kitty gently. ‘But come all the same. It’s not good for you to be on your own so much.’ She knew he spent most evenings alone because Celia had told her. ‘John can entertain us with his fiddle.’ She reached a hand up to her husband and he took and clasped it in his own.
‘You’re very kind,’ said the doctor. ‘But—’
‘You must come,’ said Nancy, leaning towards him. ‘We really do understand. We’ve all lost someone we loved.’
Doctor Galloway’s sad eyes met hers and registered a response. ‘I’ll come then but don’t expect me to be the life and soul of the party.’
‘Your presence’ll be enough,’ she said, returning his smile.
Kitty refrained from giving John a triumphant nudge in the ribs.
Much to Kitty’s relief the ambulance came before any of the other guests or Mrs Mahoney’s nephew returned. When he did arrive, he seemed unable to accept that his aunt had died of a stroke. ‘But she was indestructible,’ he kept saying. ‘Are you sure now it is herself that’s dead and not someone pretending to be her?’
‘Absolutely sure,’ said John gravely whilst Kitty struggled to keep her face straight. ‘I’m sorry there was no time to get a priest.’
‘Not to worry about that,’ said the nephew, shaking his head and swaying slightly. ‘She’ll bang that cane of hers on the ol’ pearly gates and St Peter’ll have to let her in. I suppose I’ll have to get a priest, though, and she’ll have to go home. The family’ll all be wanting to make sure that she’s gone. It’ll be a grand wake we’ll be having before we plant her under the turf and have the will read for sure.’ He left them and went unsteadily up the stairs.
John put his arm around his wife and they slowly followed in the nephew’s footsteps. It had been a long day, thought Kitty, glad of her husband’s shoulder to lean on. She thought of Mrs Mahoney, of death, of birth, of life and of how one needed to make the most of every moment because you never knew the minute. She hoped something would come of inviting Dr Galloway to supper, but she was glad it was not tonight. She hoped there would not be another day like today for a long time. At least not until her daughter was born. After that she felt certain she would be able to cope with anything.
‘Have you seen this, Kit? The Post Office has been criticised for taking on more women,’ said Annie, reading from a sheet of the
Liverpool Echo
that the fish had come wrapped in. ‘And on the same page it says that there are eighteen hundred to two thousand deserted wives dependent on the ratepayers!’ She laboriously read out the information. ‘And that doesn’t include those living apart from their husband by mutual consent! It says there’s too much casual wedlock.’ She looked up. ‘It makes you think, doesn’t it, that married women should be allowed to work? Although with the way the job situation is I suppose it can only make it worse.’ She realised that Kitty was taking no notice of what she was saying but appeared to be staring intently at the wall. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I think my waters are leaking,’ said Kitty, her forehead knitting. ‘I haven’t got any pain but – oh!’
‘You think this is it? Oh heck! What should I do?’ Annie’s voice held a note of panic. ‘Should I go and get the big fella? Or should I get Hannah?’
Kitty was determined to keep calm as she faced her cousin, but she was now starting to feel fraught. ‘John’s gone to the docks. Where’s Nancy?’
‘She went out.’
‘She’s got no right to go out! She’s supposed to be keeping an eye on me! Dr Galloway said I was to go into hospital but now it’s come to it I don’t know if I want to!’ Her fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of the table. ‘People die in hospitals.’
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t go then?’ said Annie, alarmed. It wasn’t like her cousin to talk in such a way. Perhaps she’d had a premonition? ‘Should I get Mam?’
‘I don’t know.’ Kitty put a hand to her head. ‘I’d better go and change and find a bag and stuff some things in it. I might just walk up there.’
Annie looked at her as if she had gone completely doolally. ‘Perhaps you should just sit down and take it easy.’
‘I don’t want to sit down,’ cried Kitty and sallied forth into the lobby like a ship in full sail.
Annie followed her.
Nancy was standing at the chiffonier arranging flowers. She looked at Kitty and dropped a carnation. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m glad you’re back. I am going to have a baby,’ said Kitty distinctly and began to climb the stairs.
‘Of course you are, Kit dear,’ said Nancy hastily, exchanging glances with Annie. ‘You’d best get off to the hospital right away.’ She left the flowers and hurried after Kitty.
Annie followed and whispered to Nancy, ‘She’s acting strange. She said she doesn’t want to go the hospital. She thinks she’s going to die.’
Nancy said in alarm, ‘She has to go to the hospital. She can’t have the baby here!’
‘I think she’s changed her mind now because she said she’s going to walk, but she could still change it back again.’
Nancy bit her lip and caught hold of Kitty’s arm, bringing her to a halt on the first landing. ‘Listen, Kit dear! Malcolm says everything is beautifully hygienic in the maternity hospital. No septicaemia and trained midwives there to look after you.’
‘I know.’ Kitty’s smile flashed briefly and she pulled her arm out of Nancy’s hold and carried on upstairs. Nancy had started calling Dr Galloway Malcolm in the last week.
Nancy and Annie followed her and Hannah, who had been sweeping the bedrooms, came out of one of the rooms and called, ‘Hast thee started, missus?’
‘Her waters have broken,’ said Annie, leaning over the bannister rail. ‘You’d better start praying.’
‘Is she going the hospital?’ Hannah left the Ewbank and hurried after them.
‘I shall walk to the hospital,’ said Kitty, sitting down on the stairs abruptly and taking several deep breaths.
Nancy squeezed in beside her. ‘But what if the baby starts coming on the way? Perhaps we should get an ambulance?’
Kitty shook her head. ‘It’s not going to come yet, believe me.’ She rose to her feet and went on up the flight of stairs, packed a bag with those things she deemed necessary, and set out for the hospital with Nancy.
Kitty laboured for the rest of the day whilst a fraught John walked the surrounding streets accompanied by Nelson. Every time he came to the hospital he would go inside and enquire after his wife, but it was not until half past midnight that Kitty gave birth to a nine-pound boy.
As they held up her screaming baby she could not believe he was her son. Her emotions were all in confusion and the darkness of the depression that suddenly overshadowed her outstripped the tearing and searing pain she had endured. She turned her face away and stared unseeingly at a far wall. The baby could not be a boy. It was a girl, all through her pregnancy it had been a girl.
When John came to see her that evening she lay against the pillows not even attempting to put on a bright face for him. His happiness was obvious. It shone in his eyes.
‘A McLeod laddie to achieve the things I never achieved. Thanks, darling Kit! You can’t imagine how I feel at this moment. He’s all that I could wish for.’
He’s not what I wished for
, she thought bitterly. There was a sensation in her chest which felt like a lump of sandstone had lodged there.
‘I’ll work! I’ll slave! I’ll do anything so he can have his chance,’ said her husband, lifting her hands to his lips and smothering them in kisses. ‘You’ll see. One day you’ll be proud of our son.’
She wished he would go away. She only wanted to be left alone, but no one was going to allow that. She had to breastfeed her baby and it was as much as she could bear to touch him, only by pretending could she do that. He could not be a boy. She had prayed for a girl and God would not have let her down. The baby was a girl, she told herself. She did not want a boy.
Two weeks later Kitty and her baby came home to the Arcadia. He was to be called after his father, so John said, but Kitty had made no response. Even when Ben arrived home from school and went down the sunlit yard where the baby lay in his pram and immediately declared, ‘We’ve got a real Little John now,’ she could not bring herself to accept his words.
Ben gazed down at the face almost concealed by a pink bonnet, glanced at her and said in disgust, ‘What’s he wearing that for? Pink’s for girls.’
‘That’s what I told your mother,’ said a grim-faced Annie, who was unpegging nappies from the line. ‘But she said she knitted it for him so he’s got to wear it.’ She shot Kitty a worried glance.
‘He looks daft.’ Ben pursed his lips. ‘When’s he going to be big enough for me to play with?’
‘You’ll be working by the time he’s your age,’ said Annie. ‘Anyhow, don’t you go wishing his life away. He’s a luv’ly baby. Let’s enjoy him.’ She unfastened the ribbons on the bonnet and eased it off. ‘There now, beautiful boy,’ she said.
Hannah, at the other end of the line, sniffed. ‘Pity it was another lad. The missus wanted a girl.’
Ben said swiftly, ‘You won’t cut off his tail like you were going to my mouse, Hannah. Ma wouldn’t let you.’ He looked at his mother but she made no response.
‘Of course she wouldn’t,’ said Annie, chuckling. ‘He’s a lovely, healthy baby and that’s the main thing. And good! There hasn’t been a whimper out of him all afternoon.’
‘Thee waits till he gets to bed,’ said Hannah morosely. ‘He’ll wake us up soon enough demanding attention like all his sex.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with sex,’ said Annie loftily. ‘I’ve got five sisters and I can tell you they made demands on Ma all right. I remember our—’
‘I don’t want to know,’ said Hannah cutting in ruthlessly. ‘Thee’s besotted. I don’t know why thee don’t find a man of thy own and breed. Then we’d all have a bit of peace.’
‘Because I’m a one-man woman that’s why,’ countered Annie. ‘But he went away and—’
‘Didn’t want thee, did he?’
‘That’s enough, Hannah,’ said Kitty, some memory from the past stirring her to defend her cousin. ‘It’s time the vegetables were prepared. And Annie,’ she turned to her cousin, ‘perhaps you could go and get me some Nestle’s condensed milk and a couple of feeding bottles and teats. I’m not going to have the time to feed this baby myself the way I did the others.’
‘I’ll feed him for you,’ said Annie eagerly, and hurried indoors.
That suited Kitty down to the ground. All she wanted to do now was to get back to work and ignore the baby. But he could not be ignored. When Mick came home he said the baby had his mother’s eyes.
‘He’s like the big fella, too,’ said Annie who, having followed the instructions on the tin of milk carefully, was now doing her best to persuade the baby to take to the rubber teat by holding him against her breast in her best surrogate mother fashion, but he was baulking at it.
‘Figures,’ said Mick and disappeared upstairs to revise for his next exam.