‘I’ll be down to see the kids another day, but I must go now.’
‘Well, that was a quick visit, but it was nice to see you.’
Emma said goodbye, but as she made for the underground station again, her heart was heavy. She doubted gin would work and couldn’t face some old hag with a knitting needle. She would have to tell Horace but, God, she didn’t want a baby. Or rather
his
baby.
Emma sat on the train, oblivious of other passengers as her thoughts continued to turn. Maybe being pregnant could have some benefits.
Perhaps it would give her an excuse to keep Horace out of her bed.
With a heavy sigh she knew it was unlikely. It hadn’t stopped her father, the man still demanding his rights when her mother was nearly due to have each baby. Horace would be the same, but then Emma’s lips tightened. No! She’d had enough and wouldn’t stand for it any more. She’d tell him she was ill, pretend it was a difficult pregnancy, anything to keep him away from her.
With a good excuse worked out, Emma relaxed. Horace would probably be over the moon when she told him he was to be a father, but she’d wait until after dinner before breaking the news. In the meantime, when she arrived home, she’d prepare a separate bedroom, presenting it to him as
a fait accompli
.
When Horace returned home that evening, he hoped to find Emma in a better mood.
‘Hello, my dear,’ he said.
‘Hello, Horace. Dinner is nearly ready.’
At one time he would have dragged her into his arms, kissed her, but now he hesitated. ‘Oh, good, I’ll just pop upstairs to freshen up.’
She smiled, nodded.
Horace headed for the stairs. He hated this, hated feeling nervous around his wife, in his own home, and wanted to get back to their old footing.
After sluicing his hands and face he returned downstairs to find Emma laying his dinner on the dining-room table. There was something about her manner, something about the small smile on her face that worried him, but as he took a seat opposite her, he couldn’t have been prepared for the force of the shock that hit him when she spoke.
‘You…you’re what?’
‘I said I’m pregnant, Horace. I’m having a baby.’
Horace’s mind reeled. A baby! How the hell could she be pregnant? He’d been careful, he knew he had, wearing protection against such a thing happening. Had one been faulty? Was that the reason? Yes, it must have been…Then he became aware of Emma looking at him worriedly.
‘Are you all right, Horace? You’ve gone awfully pale.’
Horace fought for composure. ‘Yes, I’m fine. It was just a shock, that’s all.’
‘You don’t look very happy. I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Oh, I am,’ he lied, when in fact he felt as if his world had caved in. A child–he didn’t want a bloody child! If Emma had been the wife he had dreamed of, he might, just might, have been able to stand it. He would have seen that she kept the child out of his way and, when old enough, it could have been sent away to school. Yet he couldn’t even do that, he realised. Sending a child
to boarding school cost money, money that Emma had no idea they had. She thought they were hard up, that they only had this house, and he wanted to keep it that way.
He stood up, throwing his napkin down and heading for the drawing room. He opened the drinks cabinet, poured a large whisky and downed it in one gulp. He had to think, to work things out, but in the meantime he had to keep Emma sweet. He didn’t want her throwing any more tantrums; after all, one had been enough to drive him out of the house. She came into the room and as she spoke he turned, fixing a smile on his face.
‘I’m afraid I’ve been feeling unwell, Horace, but isn’t this National Health Service wonderful? I went to see a doctor and he said that I need plenty of rest. I hope you don’t mind, but with this in mind I’ve moved my things to another bedroom.’
Horace didn’t care. In fact he was relieved. The thought of making love to a woman with a baby in her womb appalled him. God, her stomach would become grotesque and he didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to have to look at her. He poured another whisky, again gulping it down. Was he unnatural? Maybe, but he didn’t care. He had never wanted a child, and didn’t want one now.
The one thing Horace had learned from his first marriage was how to act, and this ability now
came to the fore. His face showed concern as he spoke. ‘Of course you need your rest. In fact, I would have insisted that you have a separate room.’
She smiled at him, but Horace was no fool and he saw it was a smile of triumph. Emma thought she had him where she wanted him, but she was wrong. He’d work something out, determined that one day soon he’d wipe that smile off her face.
Emma continued to use her pregnancy as an excuse to keep Horace out of her room and her bed. With a baby on the way she knew she had to take her drinking in hand and cut down on the sherry. She’d got used to drinking a glass every day, which had quickly become two glasses then three…It was hard at first, in fact harder than she’d expected, but now that she didn’t have Horace’s sexual demands to deal with, it wasn’t necessary to dull her mind. Strangely enough, now that she no longer had to sleep with Horace, she was growing fond of him. If anything she saw him as a father figure, and even their kisses were chaste.
Though he continued to keep her short of money, Emma was happy nowadays, humming as she did the housework. Her new-found freedom had started when she went to Charlie’s funeral and she kept it up, going to visit her family once a week. She also went to see Dick on the stall,
pleased to see how well he was doing. He hadn’t taken their father on, despite the pressure. Instead, now that Luke had left school, he’d given a job to him, and though she would have preferred Luke to learn a trade, she doubted either brother would listen to her, both thinking themselves too old to be given advice.
One beautiful day in spring, thinking of her brothers, she decided to go to see them, and now that the girls were on their Easter holiday from school, she’d pop round to Polly’s too. Emma flicked a last glance around the drawing room before grabbing her handbag and heading for the market.
Dick smiled when he saw her, but he was busy with a customer. Luke had his back to her, piling cabbages onto the stall. Drawing close, Emma laid her hand on his arm. He jumped as though scalded, dropping a cabbage and snatching his arm away.
Puzzled, Emma asked, ‘Goodness, what are you so jumpy about?’
Luke avoided her eyes. ‘Nothing, you just startled me, that’s all.’
Emma held her arms out. ‘Well, are you going to give me a cuddle?’
He moved hesitantly forward, but was stiff as she held him, and after allowing a swift hug, pulled away. It was unlike him. Luke was usually demonstrative, happy to show affection, and
she wondered what had brought about this change.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I just don’t like to be touched.’
Emma’s eyebrows rose. ‘Since when?’
He ignored her, going back to his work whilst Emma watched him, shaking her head in bewilderment. Dick came to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
‘How are you doing, love?’
‘Fine. I’m on my way to see the girls. What’s the matter with Luke? He seems a bit sullen.’
‘I dunno. He’s been acting a bit off for a while now. When I ask him what the problem is, he just clams up. Maybe he’s fallen out with Dad or something. You could try asking Polly.’
‘Yes, I’ll do that. Oh, look, it’s Alice, and she’s got James and Archie with her.’
Alice was smiling as she approached, the boys rosy-cheeked and well-dressed. ‘Hello, Emma, this is lovely! I’ve hardly set eyes on you since you got married. Come on, boys, say hello to your sister.’
Both James and Archie chorused a greeting, and then Dick threw them an apple each. Emma found herself filled with mixed emotions. It was lovely to see her youngest brothers looking so happy, but they already seemed distant. Maybe she should have tried to see more of them, but if they became unsettled it wouldn’t be fair on Alice.
As if sensing her thoughts, Alice spoke gently. ‘They’re fine, Emma, and when your father agreed that we could officially adopt them, I was over the moon. And congratulations yourself, love,’ she said, eyeing Emma’s growing stomach. ‘You wait, when you become a mother there’s nothing like it in the world.’
‘Mummy, can we go now?’ James cried, pulling on Alice’s skirt. ‘You said we could go on the swings.’
Emma gulped, fighting to hide her emotions. ‘Mummy’–James had called Alice
‘Mummy’
. Oh, she had to stop thinking like this. They were fine, well adjusted, and it would be best if she didn’t interfere in their lives.
‘Sorry, Em, I’ve got to go. I won’t get any peace until these two are at the playground.’
‘Yes, of course. ’Bye, Alice. ’Bye, boys.’
Both Dick and Luke were busy, but raised their hands to wave as Alice moved away, the boys not looking back as they trotted along, one on each side of Alice and holding her hand.
Emma watched them go, then said goodbye to Dick and Luke and set off for Balham.
Emma sat on the bus, watching the passing scenery, finding her thoughts on her mother. Since her death the family had gone in all directions, their lives so different now. She missed her mother
so much and there was hardly a day when she didn’t think about her.
It wasn’t far to Polly’s and soon Emma was knocking on the door, forcing her unhappy thoughts away and glad to find that the girls were at home.
‘Your belly’s getting big,’ Susan said as she hugged her.
‘You must be six months gone now, Emma,’ Polly said as she put the kettle on to boil. ‘Sit yourself down, love.’
After giving all her sisters a hug, Emma sank gratefully onto a chair. Her eyes took in Polly’s kitchen, and as usual it was sparkling clean. Her sisters looked lovely too, and Susan was blooming, all signs of the sickly child she had been gone.
In such a short time they had changed so much and were obviously fond of Polly, so much so that Emma doubted it would be much longer before they accepted her as their mother. She gulped, and as she had with James and Archie, she was unsure how she felt about it, how her mother would have felt about it. Yet surely it was what her mother would have wanted–to see her children happy, loved and well cared for?
At first she’d had concerns about Polly, finding the woman a bit brazen, but she had to admit her mistake, especially when Ann rushed up to Polly, giving her a hug.
‘Can I have some lemonade?’ Ann asked.
‘Of course you can, darling,’ Polly said, ‘and what about you two?’ she asked, her eyes going from Susan to Bella.
‘Yes, please,’ they chorused.
‘When are you gonna have your baby, Emma?’ Susan asked.
When am I going to, not gonna, Emma automatically corrected. ‘The baby will be born early July, and then you’ll all be aunties.’
‘You don’t half talk posh, Emma,’ Susan said, ‘but Luke won’t be an auntie. He’ll be an uncle.’
‘Yes, that’s right. Dick too.’ Emma felt the baby move and she beckoned Susan over. ‘If you put your hand on my tummy, you might be able to feel the baby.’
‘Me too,’ cried Bella, rushing to get there first.
‘Now then, not all at once,’ Polly gently admonished. ‘Here, Bella, come and get your lemonade.’
Bella pulled a face, but did as she was told, and when Susan failed to feel any movement, she moved for Bella to take a turn. With a hand on Emma’s tummy and her head cocked to one side, she remained still for a moment, but then said, ‘I can’t feel nothing. I reckon you’ve just got fat, Emma.’
Both Emma and Polly roared with laughter, and as Polly poured them each a cup of tea, taking the chair opposite, Emma took a sip, then asked, ‘How’s Luke?’
She was surprised to see the woman looking disconcerted, her hand trembling slightly as she lifted the cup to her lips. ‘He’s all right. Why do you ask?’
Emma shrugged. ‘He seems a bit strange, distant, as though something is worrying him.’
‘He seems fine to me.’ After a short pause, Polly blurted, ‘Maybe it’s your stomach. Some men find a woman’s pregnancy embarrassing.’
Emma nodded slowly. ‘Yes, perhaps that’s it.’
‘Your dad ain’t too happy that Dick gave Luke the job on the stall.’
‘It was his decision, and anyway, Dad’s got a job.’
‘Yeah, but as I said before, he was hoping to get away from the building game.’
‘He’d have taken the stall over and that wouldn’t have been fair on Dick.’
Polly bristled, but as the children once again vied for attention, she said no more, instead answering Susan, ‘No, you can’t go out to play. Emma’s come to see you and the least you can do is to stay in until she leaves.’
She then reached down to pick up her knitting bag by the side of the chair and, pulling out a tiny garment, handed it to Emma. ‘I made this for the baby, and I’ve just started another one.’
Emma took the little matinée coat and smiled with delight. ‘Oh, Polly, it’s lovely.’
‘I’m glad you like it. I know it ain’t much, and no doubt Horace is filling the place with the best that money can buy.’ Polly then paled, saying quickly, ‘What I mean is, he must be dead chuffed to be a father and is probably spending money that he can’t afford.’
Emma fingered the lovely soft wool. ‘You’re wrong about Horace. He hasn’t got anything for the baby, and when I bring up the subject he avoids it. As for the best that money can buy, I hardly think that’s likely. He’s always nagging me to not overspend, pointing out how much it costs to run the house.’
‘Yeah, well, it must be a pretty penny and from what you’ve told me he’s a careful man.’
Emma sighed heavily. ‘Yes, he is, but he hardly mentions the baby. At times I’ve caught him looking at my tummy with an awful expression on his face. It’s rather like he finds it disgusting.’
Polly pursed her lips. ‘Maybe you’re just feeling a bit sensitive. Mind you, I’ve never had kids of my own so I’m no expert.’
‘You’ve got us, Polly,’ Susan chimed in. Bella nodded.
‘Yeah, I have, ain’t I, and do you know what? I love you all to bits.’