Ellen had been right to look forward to the future. Though it was about a twenty-minute walk from her parents, and on the other side of the Hogs Back, she had fallen in love with the cottage Percy had found on sight; but, best of all, she had found that she could now give herself willingly to her husband, to find that she revelled in his lovemaking. It had been fumbling and awkward at first, but they now found joy in each other’s bodies.
Together they had watched Sarah grow, had laughed when she first went on all fours to crawl, but so far she hadn’t managed to walk. Mostly, though, Sarah was a quiet, contented baby, happy to just sit on the rug playing with the wooden toys her grandfather had made.
When Val arrived at midday, Ellen let her in, the two tots placed side by side on the hearthrug and chuckling to see each other.
‘I know you moved in here ten months ago and I should be used to it by now,’ Val mused as Ellen passed her a glass of apple juice, ‘but I still miss having you living down the road.’
‘It isn’t the same, that’s for sure.’
Val grinned. ‘I should be used to this room too, but it still looks stuffed full of furniture.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Ellen agreed. It not only looked stuffed full, it looked out of place, but nevertheless she loved it. Among other things, Gertie had given them a lovely, long, red velvet sofa with ornate legs, along with a fireside chair, and a beautifully carved mahogany sideboard. There were side tables too, and lovely lamps, the furniture more suited to a large drawing room than a cottage parlour.
‘Look, Ellen, look,’ Val said excitedly. ‘Pauline’s up on her feet again.’
Sarah was sitting on the rug, flapping her arms as Pauline clung to the edge of the chair before taking one, then two tottering steps towards her mother. She then sank down, but Val swept her up into her arms, crying, ‘You clever girl. Just over twelve months old and walking.’
Ellen smiled at the scene. Pauline was so like her mother with her blonde hair – though her eyes were blue, not grey. In contrast, Sarah was dark, her eyes brown and her smile impish. Ellen had feared for a while that her daughter was
starting to look like Billy, but instead she now bore a distinct resemblance to her father, something he loved pointing out.
‘Did you see that, Sarah? Pauline walked. She beat you to it, and now you should try too.’
Val put Pauline down next to Sarah, and both chuckled as though they understood every word, but it was Pauline who clung to the chair and struggled to her feet again.
‘Oh, dear, there’ll be no stopping her now,’ Val said. ‘I think I’m going to need a playpen, especially in my condition.’
‘Condition! What condition? Val, don’t tell me you’re pregnant again!’
‘Yes, I am, but I wanted to be sure before I told you.’
‘That’s wonderful and I bet Bob’s chuffed.’
‘Yes, but this time he wants a boy. I told him it’s nothing to do with me and he’ll have to take what we get.’
‘The pendulum was wrong so it’s no good trying that again.’
‘I know, and I must admit I was shocked when Mrs Ainsworth told me I had a girl.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ll be using her this time. My dad said that thanks to Nye Bevan we’ve now got this wonderful National Health Service.’
‘I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I think I’d like Mrs Ainsworth to deliver this baby too.’
‘You’ve beat us to it,’ Ellen said ruefully. ‘We’ve been trying for a baby, but no luck so far.’ ‘Don’t worry, it’ll happen one day.’ ‘Are you just saying that, or is it one of your feelings?’
‘I suppose it’s a feeling because somehow I just know you’ll have another baby.’
‘That’s good, and I’d like a boy next time too. Any feelings about that?’
‘Sorry, no.’
‘I was an only child, but I want Sarah to have a brother or sister. I just hope it happens soon.’
‘Ellen, for now just cherish Sarah.’
‘I do cherish her. What made you say that?’
‘No reason really, but tell me, how are things going at the plant nursery?’
Ellen was surprised at the swift change of subject. ‘From what I’m told, they’ve done really well this year. They sold all the stock, including annuals again, but the summer season is nearly over now. No doubt they’ll still have vegetables for sale and, as Christmas trees sold really well last year, I expect they’ll get them in again, but that won’t be until December.’
‘Do you miss working there?’
‘Yes, sometimes, but with this little madam to look after,’ Ellen said, smiling at her daughter, ‘I’m happy to stay at home.’
‘You always keep the place so nice. Mind you,
with those two dribbling everywhere it’s just as well you covered the chair and sofa with these old curtains. Plush red velvet and babies don’t mix.’
‘Percy’s just as bad. He scrubs his hands every day, but working at the nursery means they’re always engrained with dirt.’
They continued to watch the children, chatting idly about this and that, but then an hour later both children were getting crotchety and needed a nap. Val picked Pauline up.
‘I’d best be off. I’ll see you tomorrow at my place.’
‘I’ll be there around midday,’ Ellen said as Val struggled to put her protesting daughter into her pram.
Sarah held out her arms, hating to see Pauline go and her face puckering with distress. Ellen did her best to soothe her daughter when they left, stroking Sarah’s hair as her mind wandered. It was nice for Val that she was going to have another baby, and she hoped it wouldn’t be long before she fell pregnant again too.
Val said it would happen, but hadn’t predicted when. Oh, please let it be soon, she thought. Her mother was right; she had fallen in love with Percy, deeply in love and couldn’t wait to see the delight on his face when she could tell him she was having his baby.
‘And you, darling,’ she said, holding Sarah close, ‘you’ll have a baby sister or brother.’
Val pushed the pram home, her expression one of sadness. There were times when she hated her feelings, hated what they told her. Maybe she’d been mistaken. It was rare, but she’d been wrong before and there was no sign that anything was amiss. Feeling marginally better, Val stopped outside the village shop.
A lot of things were still rationed, but not bread or flour now, and with only a heel of bread left she needed to buy another loaf. She left the pram outside, finding just one customer ahead of her, the old, wizened woman turning to look at Val as she stepped inside.
‘Been to see that friend of yours, have you?’
Used to the fact that everyone in the village knew everyone else’s business, Val said, ‘Yes, Mrs Norris.’
‘I know her husband works up at that nursery, her parents too, but there’s talk about those women who own it.’
‘Is there? What sort of talk?’
‘Now, Valerie, you know I’m not one for passing on gossip, especially of that sort.’
It was obvious that Mrs Norris was itching to tell her, so shrugging, Val said, ‘Fine, don’t tell me.’
‘I suppose you’ll find out soon enough, so you
might as well hear it from me,’ Mrs Norris said, pausing to lick her lips before continuing. ‘Well, now, according to Mrs Oliphant, whose daughter is a friend of a friend of the girl who was taken on at the nursery at the beginning of the year, those two women aren’t just spinsters as we thought.’
‘Oh, are they married then?’
‘No, it isn’t that, and if you ask me it’s disgusting, that’s what it is.’
‘You’ve lost me, Mrs Norris. What’s disgusting?’
‘The girl who works for them now, told this friend of a friend of Mrs Oliphant’s daughter, that she’s seen things.’
‘What sort of things?’
Mrs Norris sniffed, her lips curling in distaste. ‘She’s seen that big woman, her that always wears trousers, cuddling the other one, and not only that, kissing her too.’
Val frowned, but before she could gather her thoughts, the shopkeeper, Mrs Short, put her pennyworth in too.
‘Yes, Valerie, and it wasn’t just friendly affection. They were kissing each other on the lips.’
‘What! No, surely not?’
‘That’s what we’ve heard, Valerie,’ Mrs Norris said. ‘Now, I think you should warn your friend. Once her husband and parents find out, they won’t want to work for the likes of them, and if people around here have their way, those women will be
drummed out of the village. Now then, Mrs Short, how much do I owe you?’
Val walked out of the shop in a daze, her loaf of bread forgotten as she gripped the handle of the pram. She knew little about that type of thing between two women, but the thought of it turned her stomach. Yet it couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. From what Ellen had told her, she had known the big woman – Gertie was it – from childhood and she seemed really fond of her. Ellen would never condone something like that going on, and neither would her parents.
She would have to tell them – warn them about the gossip that was spreading round the village. If she did that, maybe it could be nipped in the bud before the villagers started to take any action. Her mouth set in a grim line, Val turned the pram around, heading back to Ellen’s cottage.
Ellen opened her door, surprised to see Val again.
‘Hello, did you forget something?’
‘No, but I’ve just heard some awful gossip. I had to come back to warn you.’
Ellen paled. Warn her about what? Surely nobody had found out that Sarah wasn’t Percy’s child?
‘What’s being said?’
‘Pauline’s asleep so I’ll leave her outside,’ Val said, then stepped over the threshold. ‘The gossip’s about your friends, them that own the nursery.’
Ellen’s first reaction was one of relief that it wasn’t about her and said, ‘I suppose you mean Gertie and Maureen?’
‘Yes, and it isn’t very nice, Ellen. There’s talk that they aren’t…well…just friends. Now don’t get upset, because I’m sure it isn’t true, but a girl who works there said she’s seen them kissing each other.’
‘That’s rubbish,’ Ellen snapped, instinctively lying to protect them.
‘The trouble is the villagers are up in arms about it. If they don’t want to be hounded out, they’ll need to do something to stop the gossip.’
‘Hound them out? But that’s awful. Gertie and Maureen haven’t harmed anyone and I don’t see why they should have to defend themselves.’
‘I know, but I still think they need to be told.’
Ellen was relieved when Val didn’t stay. She still couldn’t believe that the village would try to hound Gertie and Maureen out and that was bad enough, but if they succeeded it would mean that Percy and her parents would lose their jobs too. She had to do something, quickly warn Gertie, and to do that she’d have to go to the nursery.
At the nursery, Gertie was watching Nancy as she wheeled a barrow of manure along to Harold. The girl worked hard, there was no doubt of that, but she was over-familiar, and Gertie saw her now as a rival.
‘What’s up, Gertie?’ Maureen asked as she walked to her side with the dog. ‘You look a bit grim.’
Gertie leaned down to make a fuss of Goldie, her face hidden. ‘It’s Nancy. I’m still not sure about her.’
‘Not this again. You’ve no need to be jealous. Nancy is just friendly, that’s all.’
‘If you say so, but I bet you don’t get out of the gates without her contriving to bump into you.’
‘Now you sound paranoid.’
Nancy was heading back to the mound of fertiliser now, her head turning in their direction and instinctively Gertie threw an arm around Maureen.
‘Stop it,’ she snapped. ‘We agreed there’d be no
displays of affection outside of the house, but you seem to have forgotten that. I know what you’re doing, but you don’t have to lay claim to me. Nancy isn’t interested in me in that way.’ ‘I’m not so sure.’
‘For goodness’ sake, if it’s worrying you that much, get rid of Nancy. Give her the sack,’ Maureen said in exasperation.
‘I might just do that.’
‘Fine, now if you don’t mind, before Goldie pulls my arm out of its socket, I’m taking her for a walk.’
Gertie watched as Goldie almost dragged Maureen off, but then turned to find that Nancy was nowhere in sight. Her lips thinned. Nancy had abandoned her work and, as she’d suspected, she was probably off to intercept Maureen before she left the grounds. That’s it, Gertie thought, she’d had enough. The girl would have to go, and now she headed in the direction of the gates too, determined to sack the girl.
Sarah was asleep, but, anxious to get to the nursery, Ellen laid her gently in the pram, pleased when her daughter didn’t stir. She left the cottage, shortly turning into the lane that would lead her up to the main road that crossed the Hogs Back, the nursery on the other side.
It was a lovely September day, the countryside
beautiful, and Ellen noticed that some trees were starting to turn, their leaves tinged with brown, a sure sign that autumn was upon them. Time had flown, with Sarah having her first birthday in August, and now in a few months it would be Christmas again. She wanted to try her hand at cooking the dinner this time and hoped her mother would agree to come to their cottage, perhaps Mabel and Jack too, all celebrating another wonderful year.
Thinking about Jack and Mabel inevitably brought Billy to mind and Ellen hoped that he and Sheila would celebrate their Christmas in Hampshire. She didn’t want to see him again, her feelings for him well and truly dead. Percy may not have Billy’s looks, but she had come to love his face: the softness in his eyes and the curve of his mouth when he smiled. More, she had come to love the man, his gentle personality, the way he treasured both her and Sarah.
Ellen was close to the top of the hill now, her thoughts still on Percy. He loved his job too, his enthusiasm never waning, but now she shivered. Val had said that Gertie and Maureen could be hounded out, but surely there was some way to stop the gossip? If they were forced to leave, what would they do? Their homes, their livelihood, were at risk, her parents’ too.
With her mind searching for a way to solve the
problem, Ellen stepped out onto the main road, too distracted to see the danger.
Maureen had picked up her pace when she saw Nancy heading towards her and managed to get out of the gates without being intercepted. Though she had denied it, Maureen knew that Gertie had reason to be jealous. She had done nothing to encourage it, but Nancy had made her feelings obvious since they had worked together on the spring transplanting. Maureen had of course turned her down, and since then did her best to avoid the girl, but it wasn’t always possible.
Gertie was understandably suspicious and had started to be overly affectionate in front of Nancy, making it obvious that they were a couple. Maureen knew it annoyed Nancy and, fearing the girl would become vindictive, she had tried to discourage Gertie, but it hadn’t worked.
It was getting Maureen down, the juggling, trying to be nice to Nancy without giving her ideas, trying to hide it all from Gertie, and though she hated the thought of anyone losing their job over her, she’d be relieved if Nancy got the sack.
She continued to walk and, unwilling to go back to the nursery just yet, Maureen decided that she’d go across the Hogs Back to see Ellen and her baby. Sarah was adorable, so cute, and, as she hadn’t been to the cottage since last week, it would be
lovely to see her. Goldie had finished her frolicking to forage among the hedgerows, but now she called her.
‘Come on, Goldie, come here.’
The dog trotted to her side and, clipping on the lead again, Maureen stepped out, the walk to the Hogs Back from here only a short one.
The lorry driver was in shock, totally unable to deal with the hysterical woman who was screaming like a banshee as she flung herself on the ground beside the smashed and crushed pram.
A car and a tractor had pulled up now, both the drivers rushing over to the scene. Stuttering, the lorry driver said, ‘I…I didn’t see her, or…or the pram. She…she came out of nowhere.’
‘There’s a house over there,’ said the car driver, pointing. ‘I’ll see if they’ve got a telephone to ring for an ambulance.’
With that he rushed off, while the tractor driver crouched down beside the screaming woman.
‘Get her out! Oh, please, get my baby out!’ Ellen begged.
The man was pale as he abruptly stood up, saying, ‘I think we should wait until an ambulance arrives.’
‘No! No! Get her out. Sarah! Sarah!’
Someone else appeared now, running out into the road, a woman with a dog, her eyes wide with horror.
‘Ellen! Oh, Ellen!’ she cried.
‘Maureen! Help me! Please help me.’
The lorry driver ran a hand over his face, and at last his feet moved as he staggered over to the pram. One look and nausea rose in his throat, almost choking him until somehow he forced it down. There was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do, and as he looked into the pram again, this time there was no forcing the nausea away. He staggered away again, throwing up on the side of the road, knowing that what he had seen would haunt him for ever.