Chapter Thirty-Three
Kate so wanted to go home but she couldn’t just arrive in Micklewell unannounced, with a babe in her arms. She must go to the only people who would help her, Mrs Bowden and Ida.
‘You can’t walk all that way, with a babe,’ Sara said. ‘I’ll pull a few strings for ’yer. The carters go that way once a week, taking the laundry to the military hospital in Lewisham. They takes the clean and picks up the dirty.’
Kate thought of the blood and sweat of those poor soldiers that she had been washing and rinsing away in her time in the workhouse.
Well, no more. She accepted Sara’s offer as it would cut her journey time in half.
So, the following Monday she stepped onto the cart and turned her back on the workhouse, she hoped for the last time.
The remainder of the walk took her about an hour and, thanks to Sara, she arrived without feeling too exhausted.
She needed all her courage to come close to the house again.
Should any of the family spot her, she didn’t know how she would be received.
She waited outside the gates for a while, watching the front door and the windows for any sign of life, until she was sure that she could enter the side passage unseen.
The smell of baking reached her nose before she got to the kitchen door. She inhaled the scent of spices, cinnamon and nutmeg. She hadn’t tasted cake for months. As her mouth began to water, Ronnie began to cry. She pulled the shawl around him and hugged him to her breast.
‘Shhh,’ she whispered, rocking her body to the rhythm of his whimpers.
The back door opened and Ida stepped into the yard.
‘Kate,’ she exclaimed, ‘I thought I heard something. Come inside, quick now before he kicks off good and proper.’
Once they were safely inside, Ida said, ‘Look who’s here Mrs B.’
‘Oh, my good Lord, Kate!’ Mrs B gasped. ‘Sit down, sit down, for goodness’ sake. How did you get here? And who’s this?’ she asked peeling back the shawl.
‘This is Ronnie,’ Kate said, smiling down at her son, ‘and we’ve walked from Lewisham. We got a ride from Vanburgh Hill so it wasn’t so far.’
‘A little boy and a bonny one too,’ Mrs B said, taking him from her. ‘Ida, put the kettle on. No doubt our mum here could do with a drink and so could this little man, by the look of things.’
She handed him back and Kate unbuttoned her blouse and lifted Ronnie to her breast. ‘Where are you on your way to?’ asked Mrs B, once they’d all had some tea and relaxed into one another’s company.
Just like the old days, thought Kate. Except the old days could never return.
‘Well, that’s just it. I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘I had to get us out of that workhouse, that’s all.’
‘Mmmm!’ said Mrs B, folding her arms over her chest and letting out a long sigh. She sat in that position for quite some while, sucking her teeth until she finally got up and said, ‘Ida, put on your coat, you’re going on an errand.’
‘Where to?’ Ida asked.
‘To Mrs Philpott, the housekeeper two doors down. Her son is serving out in France and his wife’s just had a baby.
She’s all on her own and not coping too well by all accounts.
Her family don’t live close by. It’s a lonely time for new mothers just after a birth, as you know full well, Kate.
I’m sure she’d be pleased to have some company for a while.
Now you tell Mrs Philpott about our Kate and ask her if, in exchange for a little financial recompense, her daughter-in-law would like a lodger for a few days. ’
‘I don’t have much money, I’m not sure . . .’ Kate started to explain.
‘Don’t you worry about that. I’ll see to it,’ Mrs B said. ‘I should never have sat by and watched you go to that place, but the master and mistress were so angry. I’ve regretted it every day, but I can help now. Let me help you and Ronnie, Kate, please.’
‘But you can’t . . .’
‘Yes, I can and I will,’ Mrs B snapped. ‘What else have I got to spend my money on?’
After Ida had gone, Mrs B fetched a pen and paper and said, ‘Now, you give me that little one and get on with writing to your parents. From what you’ve told me, they’re a good sort and I’m sure they wouldn’t see their lovely daughter and grandson out on the streets.’
While Kate wrote, Mrs B nursed Ronnie and talked.
‘It’s a real treat to see you, Kate,’ Mrs B said.
‘And Ronnie too, of course. He’s the best news we’ve had in a long time.
Goodness knows, we need some. The whole house has been on tenterhooks waiting for any word from the front.
There’s not been a letter from Master Philip in weeks.
Then we heard the news that his friend, Mr Carnforth, was badly injured.
That’s made the mistress even more jittery. Living on her nerves, she is.’
Kate swallowed hard and concentrated on her letter. Was there no end to the loss? She just had to hang on to the hope that Philip was still alive.
* * *
When Ida entered the kitchen, half an hour later, she was so excited she couldn’t get the words out fast enough.
‘It’s good news, Kate, but you’ll have to get yourself over to Brook Street right away if we’re to beat the curfew.
Mrs Philpott says that she’s sure Edith won’t turn you away, that’s her daughter-in-law.
There’s no time for me to go and ask her if it’s all right and get back in time to serve supper, so we must go now.
She’s told me how to get there. I’ll come with you. ’
‘Oh, you will, will you?’ said Kate.
‘If that’s all right with you, Mrs B?’ Ida asked looking expectantly at Mrs B with just a hint of pleading in her eyes.
Mrs B paused just long enough to make it seem as if she was in charge and then announced, ‘Well get along with you then. I suppose I can manage until you get back, Straight there and back, mind. I don’t want to have to ask that Dora to help me.
She’s not a patch on you, Kate, a right dopey-drawers! ’
Kate smiled, pulled on her coat and hugged Mrs B.
‘Thank you, Mrs B. I’ll never forget your kindness,’ Kate said, taking Ronnie.
‘Oh, go along with you,’ Mrs B replied, through misty eyes. ‘Now get on your way and all the best to you, Kate and your Ronnie, God bless him. Oh, I almost forgot. We’ve been keeping a letter for you. It arrived a few days ago. What was the woman’s name Ida? Marks, was it?’
‘No, Mabbs, Mrs Mabbs,’ Ida replied.
‘Now where did I put it?’ Mrs B said.’ Ah, yes, on the dresser.’
As Kate took the letter, she noticed a tear slip out of the corner of Mrs B’s eye. Kate placed the letter in her skirt pocket and took Mrs B’s hands in her own. They stood for a while, looking at each other until Ida reminded them it was time to leave.
‘Look after that little one,’ Mrs B said.
‘I will,’ Kate replied. The streets were busy with people rushing home. They took so many twists and turns that Kate’s head was all of a confusion. Ida walked quickly and Kate found it hard to keep up. They eventually arrived at number thirteen Brook Street and Ida knocked on the door.
A young woman answered with huge black circles under her eyes and a baby could be heard howling somewhere behind her.
She swiped her straggling hair out of her eyes and asked them short-temperedly what they wanted.
Ida explained that Mrs Philpott had sent them and that Kate needed a bed and lodging for a few nights.
The young woman looked as though she was going to close the door on them, so Ida took out the purse.
‘We’re not expecting you to do it for nothing,’ Ida said.
The young woman grabbed the purse, stepped back and held the door open.
‘You’d better come in then,’ she mumbled.
Ida hugged Kate and kissed Ronnie on the forehead.
‘Take care of yourself and your little Ronnie,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back to see you in a few days.’
‘I left a letter to be posted, back at the house, to my parents in Hampshire,’ Kate said. ‘Could you please make sure you put a stamp on it and post it for me?’
‘Don’t worry, I will,’ Ida replied.
Kate was so relieved to be out of the workhouse that she didn’t mind Edith Philpott being snappy and unfriendly. Edith said that she would have to make do in the spare room which was all cluttered up at the moment because she hadn’t had time to think.
‘He insisted we got married before he went off and then he left me with a load of his stuff to sort out and a swollen belly. God knows when I’ll see him again. Three shillings and six pence a week, that’s what I get. How’s a person to live on that, with a babe to look after and all?’
Kate thanked Edith and said she was happy to sleep anywhere.
‘You’ll have to empty one of the drawers of the chest and put him in there to sleep,’ Edith said, pointing at Ronnie. ‘I hope he’s a better sleeper than she is, little madam. Has me up all hours, that’s why I look the way I do. Used to be a looker, I did, look at me now!’
Kate took Ronnie upstairs, cleared a place on the bed and fed him.
She laid him gently down and positioned two pillows either side of him.
She unpacked her few possessions and placed her hairbrush on top of the chest. She emptied one of the drawers to make a bed for Ronnie as Edith had suggested.
The room was small and the bed filled most of it but it was warm and dry and a roof over their heads.
Once Ronnie was settled, Kate reached into her pocket for the letter.
She sat with the envelope in her lap, frightened to open it.
There could be only one reason that Mrs Mabbs had written to her.
She slowly turned the envelope over and tore it open.
She took the letter out and unfolded it.
The carefully formed writing flowed across the page and Kate stared so hard at it, that it began to move before her eyes.
Dear Kate,
This is the letter that I hoped I would never have to write.
I received a telegram a few days ago to tell me that my dear Archie has been killed in action.
I know he loved you dearly and it was his intention to propose to you when this dreadful war finally comes to an end.
He would have been a fine husband to you but now that will never happen.
My only son has been taken from me and I will never see him again.
There is nothing more I can say except you know you can visit me here at any time.
With best wishes,
Violet Mabbs
Kate folded the letter and put it back in the envelope.
She placed it carefully in the drawer, underneath her clothes.
She pushed the drawer back and stood gazing at the wall, unable to cry.
So much death. A shiver rippled through her body and she felt empty.
She knelt beside Ronnie’s makeshift cradle, kissed him lightly on the forehead and stood silently watching him and listening to his breathing.
‘I have you,’ she whispered. ‘We are alive and I have you.’
Edith’s baby was still crying by the time she went downstairs and Edith was trying to rock her with one arm while stirring a pot with the other.
‘Let me do that,’ Kate offered.
‘I’d rather give you her, she’s driving me mad,’ said Edith.
Kate took the baby and asked her name.
‘She’s Grace, though she’s anything but gracious,’ Edith said. ‘He wanted her named that. Grace if it’s a girl and Graham if it’s a boy. So, she’s Grace.’
As Kate placed her on her shoulder, the baby let out an almighty burp.
‘She’s got wind,’ Kate said. ‘Have you tried sitting her up after a feed and rubbing her back until she brings it up?’
‘Well, that midwife is always in such a hurry to get out of here I never get a chance to talk to her. She might have told me.’ Edith sighed.
‘Try it next time you feed her and don’t stop until she lets that wind out.’ Kate smiled.
From then on she and Edith got on really well. They took the babies out, top and tail in the pram. They cooked together. Kate helped Edith to write her letters to her husband, Stan, while Edith helped Kate to sew Ronnie rompers for when he was older.
Kate didn’t know whether to envy Edith because she had a husband, or to pity her because she had to wait each week to see if a letter arrived back.
She tried not to think about the distance between her home in Hampshire and London and whether she and Philip would ever find each other again.
When he returned home to find her gone, would he even want to be with her?
By returning to fight, he was opening himself up to more of the same destructive forces that had changed him in the first place.
Perhaps he was changed forever but then this war had changed everything.
She had changed. She’d given birth to a child, without him.
She’d survived the workhouse, but for now she and Ronnie were safe.
So many of the men who went to war didn’t return.
There was no way of knowing if Philip would.
She tried to console herself with the thought that this war couldn’t go on forever, but it was showing no signs of coming to an end and uncertainty was a feeling everybody lived with every day. There was no point in making plans. Ronnie was her first concern now, everything else must wait.
The following day Edith answered a knock at the door. Kate heard her greeting Ida but she didn’t hear Ida’s voice at all. Ida came into the kitchen and looked across at Kate, a darkness in her expression. No words of explanation came.
‘Ida? What is it?’ Kate asked, going to her.
Ida just looked at her, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks with her sleeve. Kate reached across and took Ida’s hand.
‘Ida?’ she said again.
Ida sniffed away her tears and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket.
‘It’s Mr Philip,’ she said. ‘Mrs B sent me, she said that you would want to know.’
‘Yes?’ Kate prompted her, not really wanting to hear what she feared was coming next.
‘He’s . . . he’s . . . been killed,’ Ida sobbed. ‘The telegram arrived yesterday.’
A coldness crept through Kate’s body. Her breathing slowed, her vision blurred and her legs felt as if they could not hold her up.
Someone was calling her name, someone was speaking to her, but it was far off.
There was a humming in her ears that blotted out the words and she felt as if water was flooding into her mouth, choking her.
Then she heard it, a cry but who was crying? The ache in her chest surged up through her throat and then she let it loose.
‘Ronnie, I must go to Ronnie,’ she said.