Chapter 15 #2
The thought of being able to add to the family pot, and even more of having a goal to aim for, cheered Bobby immensely.
Giving up work didn’t feel so daunting now she had this.
She hummed as she strolled along the narrow road, beaming with maternal fellow-feeling at some of the pregnant ewes in the fields.
The expectant sheep were just one of the signs of spring starting to appear as January advanced.
Showers of white snowdrops stood out against the grass, and although it was cold, with patches of snow on the fells, the winter sun shone as brightly as an afternoon in June.
Bobby smiled on it all, pleased to have made a plan and pleased to think she had the resources to do something nice for Charlie.
She spotted Jolka walking towards her from the direction of Sumner House.
Bobby pulled her coat around her, conscious of the bump she was still keen to hide.
Jolka’s own bump was now clearly visible.
She carried her pregnant frame proudly, and a little defiantly.
Bobby, however, was only grateful she had spent the previous weekend adjusting her old coat so it billowed out from under her bust rather than her thickening waist.
She might have known Jolka, always stylishly dressed, would notice this.
‘Bobby.’ She beamed when she met her. ‘How glowing you are today! That is a flattering new cut for your coat.’
Bobby was glad it was cold, which would explain any pinkness in her cheeks.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ve become quite the seamstress since this war started. I could barely sew a stitch before without breaking my needle. Have you been to see Topsy?’
‘I have, to collect some clothes I loaned for her pantomime.’ Jolka indicated a bag she was carrying. ‘Piotrek has taken Tommy to feed the ducks, so I am at liberty. Where are you heading?’
‘Into Settle.’ Bobby raised her shopping basket filled with magazine proofs. ‘I have to take these to the printer.’
‘I will walk with you to your stop.’ Jolka fell into step beside her.
‘How was Topsy?’ Bobby asked.
‘She is all at sixes and sevens, as I think is the English expression. Teddy laughs at her, but you would think the world was ending from the way she behaves. I was very sorry I did not wait a few hours to pick up my costumes.’
‘Oh my goodness! Why, what can have happened?’
‘Do not upset yourself. It is no great disaster, except to Topsy, and she will soon recover. It is the old lady, Mrs Hobbes.’
‘She’s all right, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, but she has given Topsy the unwelcome news that she is to leave her. Grown-up married ladies do not need nannies, she says, and she does not want to take up room when she knows Topsy and Teddy desire a child. I believe she is right, but Topsy is distraught to lose her company.’
‘Oh, poor Topsy. Will Mrs Hobbes go back to Scotland?’
‘My understanding was that she would remain in the village, with that menace of a pet goose and his family.’
‘I wonder where she’ll live.’ Bobby smiled. ‘It’ll have to be close to the beck or Norman will kick up a stink.’
‘Well, we shall see. It is no great loss to Topsy, who will see her friend often, but I suppose she has grown accustomed to having her Maimie at hand.’ Jolka smiled dryly.
‘It is rare that Topsy is thwarted in getting what she wants, I suspect. I should say it is no bad thing for her now and again.’
‘I hate to think of her upset, though. Mrs Hobbes is like a mother to her.’
‘I doubt it will be long until she sees it is for the best. With an additional room, she and Tadeusz can pursue their desire to adopt a child.’ Jolka raised an eyebrow.
‘Your Charlie’s nickname for our “mothers’ meetings” may prove prophetic, do you not think?
It could be that before the year is over, all those in our little group of wives will be mothers also. ’
Bobby flushed. ‘Um, well, it’s rather soon to be thinking of that.’
‘I think it is not so soon,’ Jolka said, glancing at her billowing coat. ‘But I will not say more if it discomforts you. I am sure you have reasons to wish concealment.’
Oh Lord, so Jolka had guessed the secret?
Perhaps Bobby wasn’t so adept in hiding her bump as she had believed.
She was sure she had noticed Mary glancing at her waist recently too, and her comment about wanting to be known as Nana ‘when the time comes’ had seemed loaded with meaning.
Had her cover been blown? If so, that meant her days at The Tyke were truly numbered.
Bobby wouldn’t want the news to get out through whispers.
It would hurt her father if he were to find out he was expecting another grandchild from village gossip instead of from her.
As much as Bobby wanted to keep working as long as she could, she did want to break the news to her nearest and dearest herself.
Anyhow, it was no use trying to fib her way out of it now. Bobby was a terrible liar, for one thing, and Jolka far too clever to be fobbed off.
‘Is it so obvious?’ Bobby asked quietly.
‘Not to everyone, perhaps. You conceal it cleverly. But why do you do so? I am sure the news would be received joyously.’
‘I wanted to keep it hidden while I was still able to work. Reg would dismiss me if he knew I was expecting. You won’t say anything, will you?’
‘Your secret will be safe with me.’ Jolka glanced at her. ‘Still, it is a shame you must give up the work you love.’
‘Yes,’ Bobby said with a sigh. ‘Charlie’s desperate for me to leave my job. He’s convinced it isn’t good for me or the baby, yet I’m certain it would be worse to let my brain and skills stagnate at home. It’s only the fact we need money that’s persuaded him not to tell tales on me to his brother.’
‘You are sure Reg would want you to give up work? Surely you can do some of your writing at home. There could be no harm to your health in that.’
‘I could, but I feel sure he wouldn’t approve. He has set ideas about mothers working. It was only the difficulty of finding anyone else with my skills that persuaded him to keep me on after marriage.’
‘The roles of women and men are so carefully controlled within this world,’ Jolka said with a sigh.
‘Even our language is loaded with ideas of the functions we must perform. When we talk of a woman mothering a child, we mean that she will nurture and care for him. When we talk of a man fathering a child, it speaks only of his role in the creation of life. People like your editor are unable to think beyond ideas that have been driven into them over generations. It is most frustrating.’
‘It is, but what can we do about it? What can I do about it?’
‘You ought to be like me, Bobby. Do not pin your fortunes on the Regs of the world. Who is it that runs his little magazine now?’
‘Well, I do,’ Bobby said, shifting the basket of proofs to her other arm. ‘I decide what goes in the magazine and take overall responsibility for each number.’
‘Quite. You have the skills you need to do this work. You are used to managing it. Why not manage it for yourself?’
Bobby frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
Jolka stopped to stretch her back before she carried on walking.
‘When I was a young woman, before I met Piotr, I worked for an agency that produced illustrations for advertisements,’ she told Bobby.
‘There were several of us, all struggling artists who aspired to better things. Nearly all were men, and as men they were paid a third again what I and the one other woman artist earned. One day I said, “To hell with pictures of soap flakes and matchboxes for a handful of z?oty a week”, and I resigned. After that I said I would paint only what I wanted to paint for the people I wanted to paint for, and I would accept no less for my work than a male of the same skill. Times were lean at first, but eventually it brought me my independence, and even some wealth. By the time I met Piotr, I had no need to marry for the financial support of a husband. I was free to choose for love.’
Bobby thought about this.
‘You mean I could start my own magazine?’ she asked.
‘Why not? To create your own employment could bring you independence, as it did for me.’
‘You were young and single though,’ Bobby said. ‘It was brave of you, Jolka, but it wasn’t a risk everyone could afford to take. Not if they had people to support. And you had a skill rare enough that it could earn you a living.’
‘But you too have skills – skills that mean you do not need a man to tell you what to do or put money in your pocket. Tell yourself what to do. Put money in your own pocket. It is something women rarely consider.’
‘I couldn’t do what Reg did when he started his business.
He didn’t have dependants to feed and care for as I will, or a home to keep.
Besides, I wouldn’t want to start something in competition with The Tyke.
’ She sighed. ‘I wish I could do some of my work at home, though, just a few hours a week. But Reg is so stuffy about mothers working, I don’t know if he’d ever consider it. ’
‘If you wish for it then find a way,’ Jolka said firmly. ‘You can write for other publications as well as The Tyke, I suppose. Do not allow your own ambitions and desires to become lost because you have others to care for. It is not a sin to also care for yourself.’
Bobby pondered Jolka’s advice as she travelled into town.
Making her own employment was something to consider, certainly. The Tyke had a number of freelance writers it commissioned work from. Those writers produced pieces for other publications as well, Bobby imagined. Could she do the same?
The difficulty was in knowing where to begin.
She had no idea how someone went about selling their writing services.
It wasn’t like the BBC, presumably, sending in gags in the hope someone might want them.
Periodicals commissioned their pieces well in advance.
Was it a case of sending your portfolio to an editor and hoping they took a fancy to your work?
What Bobby did know was that the clock was now ticking for her job at The Tyke.
Jolka had guessed her secret, and while Bobby knew she could trust her friend’s discretion, if Jolka had noticed then it couldn’t be long before others began to do so.
Reluctant though she was, she would have to speak to Reg about it soon.
Soon… but not just yet. She could put it off another week, perhaps, if she was careful. Maybe even two.
In Settle, Bobby dropped off her proofs then took the liberty of taking an early dinner hour so she could cash her postal order and buy the things she wanted for Charlie.
She was lucky enough to find a tin of salmon at the grocer’s – the last tin, much to her joy, which felt like fate’s seal of approval for her plan to treat her husband.
She also found a tin of peaches and some evaporated milk to make up her custard, and a packet of Charlie’s favourite cigarettes.
By the time she returned to Silverdale, she had a basket of goodies on her arm.
All she needed now was a jug of beer from the Hart, then Charlie would have a veritable feast to return to.
One incident from her trip into town stood out.
It had been when she emerged from the grocer’s to see George Parry, talking earnestly with an elegant woman in a fur coat and feathered hat.
Bobby had thought the woman must be Veronica Simpson – the glamorous fur and jaunty hat looked like her style – but on drawing closer, she realised that this woman had a pram.
When the woman turned her head, Bobby saw that it wasn’t Miss Simpson but her sister.
Lilian had immediately waved her over to have a cuddle with Annie, who was full of giggles and sunshine that spring-like morning. The captain shook Bobby’s hand warmly, explaining that he had bumped into Lilian while doing some shopping.
Neither seemed furtive. They hadn’t been standing close, or touching in any way that hinted at intimacy.
Nevertheless, Bobby felt unsettled at running into them alone together, with Lilian all dressed up and the captain talking in what had seemed such a significant manner.
She felt even more unsettled at the sight of Lilian wearing that fur coat, which Bobby recognised as the one George had given her.
Her sister had told her months ago that she was going to give the thing away, before Tony discovered it.
Clearly the wrench had been too much, however.
But it was probably nothing. Why wouldn’t two friends who ran into one another stop to pass the time of day?
They had looked earnest, yes, but the captain generally did look earnest. Bobby had worked herself up into a state of worry after her idea about Georgia’s name, she supposed, and now she was imagining things that weren’t there.
Anyhow, it had been good to see Lilian looking so bright and vibrant.
Today she’d looked truly young and healthy, as she had before her babies had been born.
Male heads had turned as they passed her.
All the same, Bobby determined to call on her sister after work and ask what she had been discussing with the captain.