Where the Heart Lies (37 page)

Julie’s breath hitched as she undid the baby-harness and lifted William out of the pram. She held him close, her tears dampening his sun bonnet as she followed Eileen and went into the sunlit sitting room. Loath to let him go for even a moment, she sat down and settled him on her lap as Eileen clattered about in her tiny kitchen. Now she was here, she didn’t really know what to say to her sister. They were hardly close, and Eileen couldn’t possibly understand what she was going through – let alone offer advice on how to cope with this piercing agony.

Eileen returned with a tray and set it on the table beneath the window. Quietly and efficiently, she poured the tea and handed William a biscuit finger, which he proceeded to gnaw with gusto and a great
deal of dribbling. ‘Why don’t you take that blanket off the back of the couch and let him sit on the floor? Then you can drink your tea in peace.’

‘He’s absolutely fine where he is,’ she managed through the lump in her throat. Setting the cup and saucer on the floor, she held William close, not caring that the soggy biscuit crumbs were sticking to her skirt and blouse.

‘What is it, Julie?’ Eileen’s voice was soft, her expression concerned.

‘She’s coming to take William away,’ she blurted out on a sob, ‘and I don’t know if I can bear it.’

Eileen shifted from her chair by the table and came to perch beside Julie on the couch. She reached for Julie’s hand. ‘Who’s coming, Julie?’

Julie could no longer hold back the tide of anguish and pain that had been building ever since she’d woken that morning, and the words came pouring out of her as if a dam had been broken. ‘She’ll be here this afternoon,’ she finished, ‘and she’ll stay the night before she takes William back to Yorkshire. I can’t let him go, Eileen. I just can’t.’

Eileen took William from Julie’s arms and set him on the floor with his biscuit, then held her sister as the storm of tears slowly ebbed. When Julie finally had her emotions under control, she gave her a clean handkerchief. ‘You were upsetting William,’ Eileen explained as Julie looked down at him, ‘so I put him there until you’d pulled yourself together.’

Julie could see that William’s little face was
screwed up in concern and realised Eileen had been right. She quickly blew her nose and did her best to appear calm. The last thing she wanted was for him to be in tears too. ‘How can I let him go?’ she whispered as he returned to gumming the biscuit. ‘I love him so much, Eileen.’

‘I know you do,’ she sympathised, ‘but sometimes we have to forget what we want and do the right thing. William was never yours to keep, Julie – and deep down you always knew that. He has a family – his father’s family – and now it’s time to let him go.’

‘But how can I? I’ve loved him from the minute I saw him, and he’s part of Franny – a part of our family too.’

Eileen looked down at their entwined hands. ‘I do understand, Julie,’ she murmured. ‘I know how hard this is for you, but William needs to be raised in a proper family, where he’ll get the love and guidance from two parents who will have time for him. He’ll be given a name and respectability, and the opportunity to understand who he is and where he belongs in the world. I’m sure they won’t let him forget you, or his little mother.’

Her candid and sensible advice gave Julie little comfort. ‘Wise words, Eileen, but you can’t possibly understand what I’m going through,’ she muttered. ‘How could you, when you’ve never had a child?’

Eileen took a deep, shuddering breath and released Julie’s hands. She stood and walked towards
the open window, reaching for the pack of Players cigarettes that sat on the sill. The click of her lighter was the only sound in the room. ‘The pain is like a knife to the heart,’ she said softly through the cigarette smoke. ‘It comes in great waves that sweep over you and take your breath away. It fills your dreams and your days until you think you can bear it no longer.’

Julie’s heart was drumming as she watched the different expressions flit across Eileen’s face. ‘That’s it exactly, but how . . .?’

Eileen continued as if Julie hadn’t spoken, her gaze fixed to some distant horizon far beyond the window. ‘It eases eventually, like the pain of bereavement, but it’s always there – tucked away, waiting to catch you out when something reminds you of what you’ve lost.’

Julie stared at Eileen as realisation hit. ‘Oh, Eileen,’ she gasped. ‘I didn’t know.’

Eileen turned from the window and stubbed out her cigarette in the glass ashtray. ‘Nobody knew,’ she said flatly. She folded her arms round her narrow waist as she gazed down at William, who was happily mashing the soggy biscuit into the rug. ‘That’s why it was such a shock when you turned up here with him. It brought it all back, you see – and I didn’t know how to cope with it.’

Julie grasped her sister’s arm and gently tugged her down to sit beside her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, ‘but I had no one else to turn to.’ She put her arm
round Eileen’s thin shoulders. ‘Was that why you left home so suddenly?’

Eileen shook her head. ‘I didn’t realise I was pregnant then,’ she admitted quietly. ‘I simply wanted to be with the man I loved.’ Her lips twitched with distaste. ‘I was young and stupid, dazzled by his charm and what I thought was sophistication, all too willing to believe his lies. Dad warned me he was a waster, and that no good would come of it, but I wouldn’t listen. I wish I had now, then perhaps things would have turned out very differently.’

Julie clasped her hands, her own sorrow edged aside for a moment in the light of her sister’s obvious torment. ‘What happened, Eileen?’

Eileen lifted her chin and took a deep breath. ‘I packed my bags and caught the first train down here. I think you could say he was surprised to see me,’ she said bitterly. ‘It turned out he had a wife and kids already, but as they were living further along the coast, he saw nothing devious in finding me this place so we could be together when his work and family commitments allowed.’ She sighed. ‘I’d burned my boats with Mum and Dad, and didn’t have the courage to go back home and admit they’d been right all along. And I was still dazzled by him, so I went along with it even though I knew it was wrong.’

Julie didn’t know what to say, but her heart went out to Eileen, who was clearly struggling with this confession and the memories it evoked.

‘He promised he’d get a divorce,’ she continued flatly, ‘and like a fool, I believed him. It was only when I found out I was expecting that he showed his true colours.’ She blinked and sniffed back her tears. ‘He accused me of being unfaithful, denying the baby could be his – and then when he realised he couldn’t get away with that, he said he’d pay to get rid of it.’ She took a shuddering breath. ‘I couldn’t do that, Julie, I really couldn’t.’

Julie had an awful, fleeting memory of poor, desperate little Melanie Hopkins, and quickly shut it away. ‘Why didn’t you come home? Mum and Dad would have come round to it eventually, just as they did with Franny.’

‘I couldn’t,’ said Eileen, shaking her head. ‘I’d shamed them enough by running off in the first place, and I was too proud to admit how wrong I’d been.’ She rose from the couch and lit another cigarette, dragging the smoke deeply into her lungs as she stood stiffly by the open window.

‘But you stayed here,’ said Julie. ‘It couldn’t have been easy with him on your doorstep.’

‘He did a moonlight, and I didn’t see him again for almost eighteen months.’ She grimaced. ‘By the time he came back, I’d dealt with the gossips, had the baby adopted and was working in the council offices. He had the gall to come round here expecting things to go back to the way they’d been before, but I wasn’t having none of it, and sent him off with a right flea in his ear.’

Julie noted how brave her words sounded, but they belied the anguish in her eyes and the tremble of her lips. ‘Was the gossip very bad?’ she asked softly.

‘Bad enough, but I handled it. Giving my baby away was the hardest part,’ Eileen said hoarsely. ‘You see, I had to stay in the maternity home with her for two weeks before I had to hand her over to the adoption people. And in that time I got to love her.’ She took a shuddering breath. ‘The agony of that moment when I gave her away is still there, buried deeply – but it comes back to haunt me when I least expect it.’

She stubbed out her cigarette, her features contorted with pain. ‘I called her Flora,’ she whispered.

‘Oh, Eileen.’ Julie rushed to her side and they clung to one another. As their tears flowed and mingled they became sisters again, giving and receiving strength and courage for what lay in the past – and for what was to come.

Peggy was in a daze as she walked towards home, her thoughts and emotions plummeting and soaring in turn as if she was riding the old roller coaster that used to stand on the end of the pier. And yet she knew she must keep this maelstrom under control and maintain her usual outward calm, for change was coming to Beach View, and she would need courage and fortitude to see them through as
well as guide Anne and Julie during the coming storm.

She stiffened her spine and lifted her chin determinedly as she reached Beach View Terrace and ran up the steps. Charity Farnsworth was due to arrive at teatime, and she needed to make sure her room was prepared and someone had made a start on the evening meal. It was most inconvenient for her to turn up on Ron’s birthday, for it was bound to put a damper on things, and she just prayed the woman was as charitable as her name. Poor little Julie would be devastated at having to let William go – just as she herself would be when Anne took Rose Margaret down to Somerset at the end of the following week.

With these thoughts came the cold reality of what she was facing. She stepped into the hall, closing the front door behind her with the knowledge that the changes at Beach View had already begun, and were out of her control. As she hung up her hat and scarf and slipped her feet into her slippers, she heard a gale of laughter coming from the kitchen and, glad of the distraction, went to see what was going on in there.

Jim, Anne and Rita were still laughing as Peggy walked in, and now she could understand why. Ron’s face was a picture of confusion and helplessness as he stood there in the sweater Mrs Finch had knitted him for his birthday. The wool had been unravelled from old sweaters and cardigans, and the stripes of colour clashed quite alarmingly. The
dubious garment billowed to his knees, one sleeve dangling over his hand, the other reaching just past his elbow. He looked like a striped lollipop.

‘To be sure and ’tis a lovely sweater, Mrs Finch,’ he spluttered as he rolled up the extra-long sleeve and tugged at the short one. He grinned and wriggled his bushy brows at her. ‘But did you not think to measure it a wee bit?’

‘It was indeed a pleasure,’ she twittered back, ‘and I’m delighted you like it.’

‘To be sure, ye look a right eejit, Da,’ muttered Jim with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Perhaps we should plant you outside as a garden gnome.’

‘I’ll give you gnome,’ he rumbled, glaring at his son from beneath his brows as he tried to tuck the swathes of wool into his trousers.

Peggy stifled a giggle as she tied the strings of her wrap-round apron at her waist. ‘It’s all right, Ron,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll sort it out for you on the quiet.’

‘To be sure, it needs something doing to it,’ he muttered as he eyed the dangling sleeve that kept falling over his hand. ‘She must think I’m Quasimodo.’

Peggy was still smiling as she looked down at Rose Margaret, who, regardless of the noise going on around her, was fast asleep in the playpen. ‘That baby’s so good,’ she crooned, resisting the impulse to pick her up and give her a cuddle. ‘You are lucky, Anne.’ She blinked away the ready tears. ‘Right,’ she said purposefully, ‘it’s time to get on before Mrs
Farnsworth arrives. Has anyone started on the tea yet?’

Anne grinned back at her. ‘We’ve all been hard at work while you’ve been gadding about round the shops. There’s a rabbit stew in the oven, and the potatoes are peeled, ready to boil. Dad managed to get hold of some extra flour, sugar and butter, and Mrs Finch has made us an apple sponge for pudding to celebrate Grandpa’s birthday.’ She shot her a grin. ‘So, did you buy anything? You were gone long enough.’

Peggy had forgotten she was supposed to have been on a shopping spree, and she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘I didn’t see anything worth the trouble,’ she replied, turning away so her daughter couldn’t see her discomfort at lying. ‘Best not to waste those precious clothing coupons when I’ve got better stuff in my wardrobe upstairs.’

As Anne and Rita started chattering about the fire-station fund-raising dance which was to be held the following night, Ron stomped downstairs muttering something about getting ready for his evening celebration with Rosie, and Mrs Finch began to lay the table. Rita had very few dresses, but Anne was happy to lend her one for the occasion, and as they fell into deep discussion about the shoes to go with it, they were joined by Fran and Suzy, who’d just come off shift at the hospital.

Peggy listened to their happy talk as she fetched a duster from under the sink, but she was all too
aware of Jim’s towering presence beside her and his unusual silence. ‘I’m just going to check the room’s ready for Mrs Farnsworth,’ she muttered, not daring to look at him.

‘Aye, you do that,’ he said quietly. ‘And when you’ve got a minute, you can tell me what you were
really
doing all afternoon.’

Peggy scuttled out of the room and scampered up the stairs. She might have known Jim wouldn’t be fooled by her fibs. He knew her too well. But the truth would be far harder to tell, and she dreaded the moment when she would have to reveal it.

Julie had stayed with Eileen for the rest of the day, and they’d talked together as young women who shared not only similar experiences, but memories of home and family. It had brought them together in understanding and friendship – a friendship they both knew would sustain them for the rest of their lives.

Eileen had offered to come back with her to Beach View, but Julie had gently dissuaded her. She understood now how hard it would be for Eileen to go through the trauma of seeing another baby handed over, and she didn’t want her to suffer any more than she already had. And yet, as she made that last, lonely journey with William down Camden Road, Julie wasn’t at all sure if she had the strength or courage to see through the next few hours without her.