Bells of Bournville Green (26 page)

‘But you’ll be coming to move in with me? I’d like you to, bab – now Marleen’s gone. I’m all on my own.’

Greta swallowed. ‘Edie and Anatoli have said I could stay there for as long as I want. They’ve been ever so kind . . .’

‘Oh, I bet they have,’ Ruby said bitterly.

‘I said I’d stay on for a bit.’

‘But what about when the babby comes? I’m its Nan, not Edie!’

‘Course you are, Mom. You always will be. But I’ve left home. They said I could stay on then too, if I wanted.’

‘Well. . .’ Ruby said, with a mixture of wonder and bitterness. ‘You’ve all got it worked out, haven’t you?’

Greta felt guilty now, but she’d had to say it. Her Mom was looking tired and sad and sorry for herself, but she couldn’t move back in there. Somehow in Edie and Anatoli she knew she had found people who could help lead her into something different. And that was what she hungered for more than anything.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The first day she went back to work, she caught up with Pat in Linden Road.

‘Hey!’ She tapped Pat’s shoulder.

‘Greta!’ Pat pulled her urgently aside. ‘Where the hell’ve you
been
? They said you were off sick but no one seemed to know anything: I’ve been worried half to death about you! I went round to your Mom’s and she said she didn’t know where you were either, and neither did Trev. There’s not much I haven’t been imagining!’

‘I’m all right . . . It’s not what you think . . .’ Greta felt bad, seeing the worry in Pat’s face. She should have let her know what had happened. After all, Pat was having a miserable time of it too, getting used to living in her bedsit all alone and creeping home to see her Mom and Josie when Mr Floyd was out.

‘But are you . . .?’

Greta nodded, finding her eyes suddenly full of tears. She kept finding herself crying these days.

‘Yes. And Trevor’s gone off with Marleen. I’m not living with him any more . . .’

Pat’s mouth opened in shock. ‘God, Gret – he never told me that.’

‘No, I don’t s’pose he did.’

They walked slowly downhill, towards the Friends’ Meeting House on the Green.

‘Oh, Greta – that’s awful. What’re you going to do?’

‘I’m living with Edie and Anatoli. And I’m having the baby. I couldn’t go through what you did . . .’

Pat turned to her, wide-eyed. ‘Well, you are married . . . Sort of, anyhow . . .’ She lowered her voice even more. ‘D’you want it, Gret?’

‘No.’ Greta walked on, thinking about it. ‘Yes. I don’t know. At first I was horrified, but then, when I’d thought about it, I started to feel different. I’ve never wanted children, not really. But I started to think about it inside me and . . . Well, it’s just him, or her, and me now against the world . . .’

She smiled sadly, and hearing her words, Pat burst into tears. ‘Oh, Gret!’

Greta pulled her in close to the entrance to the Meeting House, away from other Cadbury workers who were passing, and put her arm round her. Words spilled out, full of raw emotion, that Pat had obviously needed to say for a long time.

‘I never let myself feel anything like that!’ she sobbed. ‘I was so frightened and Ian never for a moment let me think I might have the baby. He told me I had to get rid of it. I feel so terrible – like a murderer. I killed my own baby – and my father’s never going to let me forget it!’

Greta felt terrible for her. All she could do was try her best to be comforting.

‘You just did what you had to do, that’s all,’ she said, rubbing Pat’s back. ‘Your Dad’ll come to terms with it in the end. It wasn’t your fault. If Ian had really loved you he would have been behind you and he’d never have forced you into something like that.’

‘Well, that’s the worst of it!’ Pat was distraught. ‘I thought he did love me! How could someone be like that, all lovey-dovey, and then turn on you the way he did? I’m never going near another man so long as I live – ever!’

It was nice to be back at work, but she felt different. The baby made everything that had gone before seem a long time ago, as if she had become a different person. She worked away quietly, her heart aching for Pat, and also trying to take in the strangeness of her own feelings. All that had happened had made the two of them closer, and more grown up.

At the same time she couldn’t wait to get home. The Gruschovs’ house on the Bristol Road already felt like the home she had always longed for. She loved living with Edie and Anatoli. There was the warm welcome, the cosiness of the place and the sense of a settled family, of their happiness and interest in so many things. Thinking back, she realized how Edie had changed. Seeing her now from an adult point of view, she could recognize how difficult Edie’s past life had been and she felt a deep respect for her. It had been news to her that Edie had lost a baby herself, when she was young and working at Cadbury’s. It had happened shortly after she was widowed, when her first husband was killed in an accident just after joining up in 1939. And after that she had taken in David, a foundling of the Blitz, and brought him up as her own, loving him passionately, while constantly afraid that someone would arrive to claim him as theirs and take him away from her again. She had relied on the help and kindness of Frances Hatton and the other Quakers, since her own family had been so unsatisfactory. In a way she was passing on the same kindness to Greta. And Greta could see that now, with Anatoli, Edie had found a deep happiness and was grateful for it every day of her life.

When she got home that evening, Edie let her in.

‘Oh, hello, love!’ she said smiling. ‘We must get a key cut for you. Come on in – Janet and the girls are here.’

Greta went in, glad to be offered a cup of tea and a biscuit and to be included in the general homey chaos, with Peter, Ruth and Naomi playing with little Dinky cars all over the living-room carpet. Janet was down there with them, in a floral cotton dress. She had taken off her white sandals and they were beside her on the floor. As Greta walked in, Peter lobbed one of the cars and it got caught in Janet’s curly hair.

‘Ouch!’ she cried, disentangling it. ‘You little monkey – no throwing, please!’

‘Sorry.’ Peter grinned, full of his father’s handsome charm.

‘That’s all right – just don’t do it again! I think I’ll get up – it might be safer. Hello, Greta,’ Janet said warmly, still rubbing her head. ‘How are you?’

‘All right, thanks,’ Greta said, shyly. She didn’t know if Janet knew she was pregnant, or about Trevor and Marleen, but then Edie said,

‘I’ve explained the situation a bit, love. I hope you don’t mind. Only it could be a little bit awkward with your Mom if Janet was to meet her . . .’

‘No, that’s all right,’ Greta said, blushing.

‘I’m so sorry to hear about all your troubles,’ Janet said tactfully. ‘But congratulations on the baby all the same! It seems awful for the thought of a child to be met with gloom and despondency, doesn’t it? How’re you feeling?’

‘Not too bad – a bit queasy, off and on.’

‘Come on, sit and have your tea,’ Edie said, guiding her to a chair. Greta realized that Edie loved being at the centre of a family, fussing round everyone. She sat and gratefully nibbled biscuits and drank the sweet tea.

‘How’s Ruby taken it?’ Janet asked.

‘Well – she was shocked, of course. Especially about Marleen and Trev. And she wanted me to move in with her.’

‘And you don’t want to?’ Janet asked cautiously.

Greta looked at the teacup on her lap. ‘Not really.’

There was a silence, but not a critical one. Greta sensed that both women were somehow on her side and understood.

‘We hope she’ll settle in happily with us for the moment,’ Edie said.

Greta looked up and smiled. She was too shy to be able to say how much she loved it there. She hoped they could see.

As ever, Edie and Janet chatted in a relaxed way, not seeming to mind her presence at all. They talked about their families and Janet told Edie about one of Martin’s patients who he was desperately worried about. They talked a little about politics and about the subject nearest to Janet and Martin’s hearts – the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament and the way its aims had been betrayed by Harold Wilson’s government.

‘We’re spending more than four hundred million pounds a year now on the army and weapons, thanks to this dreadful government,’ she said hotly. ‘It’s an absolute disgrace – inhuman.’

She and Martin were staunch members of the local CND group.

A little later they heard the sound of the front door.

‘Dad!’ Peter cried, and he and the twins raced through to the hall.

‘Oh my goodness, hello, hello, and hello again!’ they heard Anatoli laughing and the three children flung themselves at him. Greta saw Edie’s face light up.

‘Hello, love,’ she said, going out to greet him. ‘I’ll make a fresh pot of tea. And Janet’s here.’

‘Hello, my dears,’ Anatoli greeted them. ‘No don’t get up,’ he said to Janet. ‘I’m sure these two make you run about far too much as it is.’ He sat down with a grunt of weary pleasure and Peter, Ruth and Naomi all settled near his feet to play.

‘And how’s our lovely Greta today?’

‘All right, thank you,’ Greta said, smiling up at him. Anatoli had such a fatherly gift for making people feel loved, and she, like everyone, blossomed in his presence. As soon as he arrived he lit up the room with his amiable personality, and the sense that he had all the time in the world to sit and chat. Greta felt like a child with him, as if she was having a second childhood after missing out on the first. And he already treated her like a daughter.

‘You ventured back into work today, did you? How is the making of chocolate progressing?’

Greta laughed. ‘Oh, same as usual!’

‘I never tire of free samples you know. Even with Edith working at Cadbury’s from time to time now, I still feel we have been rather deprived!’ He leaned over and asked gently. ‘And are you feeling all right?’

‘More or less, yes thanks.’

She saw Janet, who had never been able to have a child herself, watching her with a fond but wistful smile.

Chapter Thirty-Five

So began some of the happiest months Greta could ever remember, living with the Gruschovs, in their cheerful, homely household.

‘D’you know, it’s an awful thing,’ she confided to Edie one cold autumn night as they sat by the fire. They were both already in their nightclothes and Anatoli was upstairs having a bath. ‘I’ve been married to Trevor for three years, but I don’t miss him at all. I barely even think about him.’

‘Does he know where you are?’ Edie asked.

‘Yes, I told him, like you said.’

‘Well he hasn’t gone out of his way to come and see you, has he, love?’

‘Not much of a marriage,’ Greta said gloomily.

Edie’s face clouded. ‘Well, I think, to be honest, with my first husband it would have been like that in the end. I didn’t know what it was like, not a really good marriage, until I met Anatoli. That’s the thing isn’t it? How’re you supposed to know? My Mom and Dad’s marriage didn’t give me much to go on.’

Edie didn’t say it, but Greta knew she meant that Ruby hadn’t given her daughters much to go on either.

‘I don’t want to get married again,’ Greta said, staring into the glowing fire. ‘It’s not worth it. I’d rather do other things than bother with men.’

Edie smiled, gently. ‘What other things?’

‘I dunno. Just something. There must be more to life than working in a factory and having babbies.’

‘I suppose having babies – a family – was what I wanted most . . .’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean . . .’ Greta was embarrassed. ‘It’s lovely. All your family and everything. But you’re one of the lucky ones who’s got a good marriage and you’re happy. There aren’t many are there?’

Edie sighed. ‘No. Maybe you’re right. But don’t think it doesn’t take effort.’

As the weeks passed, Greta understood more of what she meant. Though she loved Anatoli like a father, and he was always kind to her, she began to notice the dark, depressive moods that she had heard Edie and Janet talking about. For days at a time he could be withdrawn and silent, seemingly sucked down into some dark place where none of them could reach him and he would barely speak. Often he took refuge in music. Though he played the piano and violin to entertain them, at these times it was different: it was as if he was playing only for himself, and the tunes he played were in melancholy, minor keys which tore at her heart when she heard them. He seemed to lose himself in the music as if there was no one else in the house, even if they were close by, or in the same room. At these times, Greta found him forbidding, and his grim silence, when his face seemed carved sternly out of granite, made her feel miserable. Edie and Peter also trod carefully with him.

‘It always passes,’ Edie told her. ‘He can’t help it. You just have to give him time to come out of it.’

‘Is he angry?’ Greta asked the first time it happened when she was living there. ‘He seems angry.’

Edie sighed. ‘I don’t know. Maybe partly. But not with you or me. He finds it hard to explain even to himself. He says it’s to do with memories, atmospheres that come back to him and overwhelm him but he can’t put it into words at the time. He says it’s like wanting to crawl off into a dark forest for a few days. He calls it his lone-wolf time.’

All Greta knew was that she found Anatoli’s wolf times desolating, and it was an enormous relief when the days had passed and the wolf turned back into a daytime, friendly hound.

In his more summery moods, he was wonderful. The children loved him and he would sit and tell stories to Peter and the girls if they were there. Greta loved to hear them too. Often they were old Russian fairy tales which involved deep, impenetrable forests, and snow and bears, witches and lost children, and which he told magnificently in his slightly accented English, building up the tension until Peter’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

Greta enjoyed living with the Gruschovs so much that Edie even had to remind her to go and see her own mother. She did see her at work sometimes, but when she went round, Ruby was often a bit short with her to start with.