Where the Heart Lies (6 page)

Julie sighed as she turned down the volume on the wireless. Her young sister had made the best of things despite it all, for the room was pretty with pictures of the family lining the narrow mantelpiece, embroidered cloths on the back and arms of the worn chair, and a collection of china ornaments she and Bill had found in the flea markets. There was a faded rug in front of the fire and Mrs Bessell had provided not only the rather posh wireless, but also the floral curtains, which had been studiously lined with blackout material.

Julie took off her coat, gloves and scarf and sat down. Franny was sleeping so peacefully it seemed a shame to disturb her and, as she didn’t have to be anywhere for an hour, she could do with a bit of a breather after that encounter with Stan.

She rescued the knitting that was about to slide to the floor, then picked up one of the brightly coloured film magazines. It would be a treat to sit and do nothing but read a magazine – she couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that, and rather hoped Franny remained asleep for at least another few minutes.

She had read all about Fred Astaire and his latest film and was flicking through the rest of the Hollywood gossip and glossy pictures of the stars when Franny stirred and opened her eyes.

‘’Ello, Sis,’ she murmured sleepily. ‘I weren’t expecting you today. ’Ow long you been sittin’ there?’ She struggled to sit up and swing her legs over the side of the bed.

‘Don’t get up, love,’ said Julie hastily. ‘There’s no room for both of us to be moving about in here.’ She rose from the chair and gave her sister a hug and kiss. ‘You’ve got a good colour today, Franny,’ she commented as she took her pulse.

‘I been resting, ain’t I?’ Franny replied with a sigh. ‘And I’m that bored, Jules. There ain’t nothing to do all day but knit and listen to the flaming wireless. I’ve read them magazines over and over until I’m sick of ’em, and Bill’s letters are so creased I’m scared they’ll tear if I read ’em any more.’

Julie grinned down at her. ‘Anything’s got to be better than standing all day at a factory production line,’ she soothed. ‘And you look much better for the rest.’ She eyed the prodigious mound beneath
the faded jumper and skirt. ‘All right if I have a listen in?’

‘’Elp yerself,’ replied Franny, ‘I’m used to being prodded and poked by all and sundry, but it’s a lively one, I’ll tell you that. ’Ad me awake half the night with its squirming and kicking.’

‘I’m your sister, not all and sundry,’ retorted a rather put-out Julie.

‘Y’know what I mean,’ Franny said on another sigh.

Julie gave a wry smile. Franny was making the most of it, and who could blame her? Within the next couple of weeks she’d be a mother, with very little time to do anything much but care for her newborn and try to snatch much-needed sleep whenever she could.

Julie poured some water from the nearby jug into one of her bowls and washed her hands before warming the pinard and placing it on Franny’s abdomen. Putting her ear to the other end, she listened to the reassuring beat of the baby’s heart and smiled as the little one kicked quite forcibly and jolted the metal against her temple. ‘Lively’s about right,’ she said cheerfully as she rubbed the spot with her finger.

‘I did warn you,’ giggled Franny.

Julie gently and methodically ran her palms over Franny’s abdomen before palpating it with the pads of her fingers to gauge the size and position of the baby. ‘The baby’s got a bit more growing to do, but
it’s turned nicely, head down ready to be engaged, just as it should at this stage. Have you had any more practice twinges since I last saw you?’

Franny shook her head. ‘Nothing much to write ’ome about.’ Her cheerful smile faltered. ‘It will be all right, won’t it, Jules? They won’t let me ’eart get too tired, will they?’

Julie perched on the bed beside her, took her hand and went through everything once again. ‘You’ll be going into hospital tomorrow morning and will stay there until the doctor decides your baby is ready to be born. Then they’ll send you to sleep and take you into theatre for a caesarean section. You won’t feel a thing, and your heart will be monitored all the while you’re under, I promise. Then you’ll wake up in the maternity ward with a new baby all washed and ready to get to know and love.’

Franny’s little face puckered as she fought the tears glistening in her eyes, and Julie was struck by how young and vulnerable she really was under the brave façade she’d kept up over the months. ‘I’m frightened, Julie,’ she whispered. ‘I should never ’ave got meself into all this. What if . . .?’

Julie quickly put her arms around her young sister and held her close. ‘We’ll have none of that, love,’ she murmured. ‘You don’t want to upset yourself or the baby worrying about things. I’ll be with you every step of the way, I promise.’

Franny drew back, the tears still streaming. ‘If anything ’appens to me, Julie, I want you to promise
you’ll look after the baby until Bill comes ’ome. I don’t want it taken to some orphanage, or raised by strangers.’

Julie was shocked by her sister’s pessimism. ‘Franny, please don’t talk like that.’

Franny blew her nose and knuckled back the tears, her expression determined. ‘I know the score, Jules. I ain’t daft, and I need you to promise me you’ll look after my baby.’

‘If I do that, then it’s as if . . .’

‘Just promise me, Julie,’ Franny said fiercely. ‘I need to know it’ll be safe.’

Julie could feel the prick of her own tears as she yielded. ‘I promise, Franny, but you’re being unnecessarily—’

‘I’m being practical,’ Franny interrupted. She slid down the pillows with a sigh. ‘Thanks, Julie,’ she said softly. ‘I can rest easy now.’

‘Oh, Fran. I wish I could convince you that—’

‘’Ow’s about a cuppa?’ Franny said firmly. ‘Mum brought over a packet of tea yesterday, and I’ve even got a bit of milk and sugar and a digestive biscuit to go with it.’

Julie realised that Fran had decided the subject had run its course, and anything she had to say would be ignored. With a sigh of acceptance, she looked at her watch and gasped to see how late it was. ‘I’ll make you a cup, but I can’t stay, Franny. I’ve got three more mothers to visit before I can go back to the hostel and attend clinic.’

Franny looked crestfallen for a while, but as she sipped the hot, sweet tea and rested back on her pillows, she recovered her spirits. ‘This is the life, ain’t it?’ she sighed.

‘Make the most of it, Frances Harris,’ Julie said with mock severity. ‘All this lying about drinking tea won’t last once your baby’s born and yelling for attention.’ She smiled and softly kissed her sister goodbye. ‘I’ll see you in the morning bright and early. Make sure you have that case packed with everything I put on your list.’

Franny did a comic salute. ‘Yes, Sergeant Major. All packed and at attention.’

‘At ease, Corporal,’ Julie replied with a chuckle. She blew her sister a kiss and closed the door.

Leaning against it for a moment to gather her wits and restore her spirits, she tried to dismiss the worrying promise her young sister had forced her into. Franny’s heart was definitely struggling, but everything possible had been arranged to see her through a safe delivery. Yet, even though Julie had done her best to banish the dark dread that Franny wouldn’t come through – that things might go wrong, despite all the careful preparations – it still lingered. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and willed the fates to be kind to Franny, for she’d suffered enough.

On opening her eyes, she shook off the doubts determinedly and focussed on the positive. The baby was small, but the heartbeat was strong. Franny was
young, rested and in reasonable health, and Mr Philips, the consultant surgeon, was confident all would be well. Feeling rather more cheerful, Julie snapped out of her thoughts, remembered how late she already was for her next appointment, and hurried downstairs.

Mrs Bessell was waiting for her. A large Jewish lady of indeterminate age, with dyed hair and too much make-up, Rebecca Bessell jangled with all the jewellery she wore. She’d appeared rather daunting on first acquaintance, but had proved to be in possession of an enormous sense of rather wicked humour and a generous heart – combined with her Jewish need to mother everyone and know their business, these attributes made her the perfect landlady for Fran.

‘How is she, already?’ she asked without preamble.

Julie quickly told her about the plans for the next day. ‘You still have the number for the hostel, Mrs Bessell?’ At her nod, Julie continued, ‘It’s only for emergencies, but best you keep it until she’s in hospital.’

‘Such a lovely girl,’ said Mrs Bessell sorrowfully, ‘and so tragic to be cast from her family at a time like this. I was saying to my friend Bella Weinstock only the other day—’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Bessell,’ Julie interrupted quickly, ‘but I have to see other patients, and I’m already running late.’ She saw the crestfallen expression and patted the soft, plump arm. ‘I’m so grateful to you
for looking after me sister. She’s very fond of you, you know, and admires you terrifically.’

Mrs Bessell blushed and dabbed at her eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara. ‘Oy, vay,’ she murmured. ‘She is like a daughter to me, Julie – a daughter. I will take her some of my chicken soup and keep her company – she needs to eat, to be nourished, at a time like this. She’s too thin, much too thin already.’

Julie smiled at her with affection. ‘I’m sure she’d love that, now I really must go.’ She hurried out of the front door and almost ran down the path. Once Mrs Bessell started with the tears and the chicken soup it was the very devil to escape. But bless her, she had a good heart and Franny was safe in her house.

THE MOTHER AND
baby clinic had been chaotic as usual, with small children dashing about, babies wailing and mothers raising their voices to be heard as they exchanged views on the difficulties of trying to raise a family with a war on and their eldest kids gone off as evacuees to the other end of the country. They also tried to outdo one another with relish as they swapped horror stories about their pregnancies and deliveries.

Julie was used to hearing the reminiscences and knew they circulated the tenements and back streets, putting the wind up any poor young girl who’d just got pregnant with her first. These sorts of apocryphal tales did Julie’s cause no good at all, but she was powerless to stop them and had to accept they were all part of the rich tapestry of life.

The elderly doctor had left as the last patient scurried out of the door into the unlit street, and Julie and the other nurses quickly tidied everything away before they went in for supper. Julie had eaten quickly, for she was starving after having cycled over eight miles during the day, and had missed lunch.

When the meal was over, she’d retrieved her engagement ring from the chain and put it on her finger and changed into her best sweater and skirt. Carefully rolling on a lovely pair of delicate stockings, she stepped into a pair of high-heeled court shoes and clipped on her earrings. There was nothing much to do with her straight, boring hair, so she pinned it back with two pink plastic combs that matched her sweater. A dash of lipstick and mascara and a bit of powder completed the picture. She wanted to look her best for Stan, even if they did only have a couple of hours together.

‘I’ll cover for you and leave a back window open, if you like,’ said Lily, who was on call until midnight.

Julie pulled on her gabardine raincoat, which was marginally smarter than the regulation overcoat. ‘Thanks, Lil, but I need a good night’s sleep after the last two days. I’ll be in on time.’

Lily giggled. ‘Seems a shame when you could be tucked up somewhere with that ’andsome fella of yours. You wouldn’t feel the need for sleep then, and no mistake.’

Julie blushed. She and Stan might be engaged, but she had no intention of letting him get his own way until there was a wedding ring on her finger. ‘Like I said, Lil, I’m pooped and I need a proper sleep. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’

‘Ain’t we all,’ Lily sighed. ‘That Nurse Bradley seems to think she can work me like an ’orse,
running about after her arse and doing all the dirty jobs.’ She grinned back at Julie as she finished brushing her hair and adjusting her cap. ‘Still, I suppose there is a bleedin’ war on, and I’m only a volunteer. Can’t expect much better, can I?’

‘You’re a very good volunteer,’ said Julie as she gathered up her handbag and gas-mask box. ‘Ever thought of taking the exams and becoming a fully qualified nurse?’

Lily shook her head and sniffed. ‘Nah, not me, Jules. Ain’t got a brain big enough for all that learnin’. After the war I’m gunna go back to me job at the Hammersmith Woolworths – if it’s still standing – and if I ain’t married by then.’

Julie thought Lily was wasting her talents, and she could only hope that by the time this war was over, her friend might realise there was more to aim for. ‘I’m off then,’ she said as she tied her headscarf under her chin. ‘See you later.’

‘Mind ’ow you go,’ Lily replied gaily, ‘and give ’im a kiss from me.’

Julie laughed. ‘I’ll do no such thing. Find your own bloke to kiss.’

Lily pulled a face, her eyes sparkling with fun. ‘I would if I weren’t on duty tonight – and that’s a fact. I’m feeling quite frisky.’

‘You’re always feeling frisky,’ teased Julie. ‘They should put something in your tea like they do the soldiers.’

She was still smiling as she hurried through the dark streets towards the Bull, which was several long blocks away from the hostel. Lily had a string of admirers and was a terrible flirt, but she was a true friend and never poached from the other girls.

Stan was waiting outside, looking handsome in his good suit, crisp shirt and dark tie, a soft-brimmed hat pulled rakishly over one eye as he cupped his hands round a match and lit a cigarette.

She stood on the far corner watching for a moment, drinking him in as he threw away the dead match and leaned against the wall, the cigarette smoke drifting over his head like a halo. She loved him so much, and wished they could marry and set up their own place – but what with the war, her work and the necessity of him getting his sergeant’s stripes before they could afford to marry, it could be some time.