Ellie (86 page)

‘Enoch’s very shy,’ Bonny said. ‘He never comes into the house unless I ask him to. Besides, he’ll only be here for an odd couple of hours in the mornings now it’s nearly winter. You can act it up a bit, you know, call me from upstairs and stuff, so he feels secure about me not being here alone. He doesn’t need to see you.’

‘I can always put the black wig on to clean windows,’ Ellie suggested.

‘Seeing the doctor in Wells is going to be the most difficult bit,’ Bonny said thoughtfully. ‘There’s two at the practice, an old doddery one and his son. We’ll make for the old one. I’d better come with you in disguise the first time, then I’ll know all about him and what sort of things he does and says. I can warn you too if there’s anyone there from Priddy.’

On the bus ride home from Bristol, Ellie and Bonny sat right at the back. From time to time they looked at one another and giggled.

‘That hairdresser’s face!’ Bonny whispered. There were only five people on the bus aside from themselves and she knew none of them, but she was being cautious. ‘“Oh, madam,”’ she mimicked. ‘“Surely not! Your hair is so beautiful, madam. Are you really certain you want to be blonde?” I don’t know how I kept a straight face.’

‘It makes me feel completely different,’ Ellie whispered back. She was wearing a felt hat over her hair now, but in Bristol she had looked at herself in every shop window in amazement.

The hairdresser had done a very good job. It was exactly the same colour as Bonny’s, but Ellie felt it made her look cheap: the blonde hair made her olive skin so muddy.

They were weighed down with parcels – nappies, little nightdresses, vests, booties, bonnets and matinée jackets. Baby equipment was in short supply still, but Granger’s, one of the bigger shops, had taken Bonny’s order for a cot and pram, promising they would deliver them later. Ellie had bought a book on childbirth and caring for babies, as well as the two maternity dresses and identical, sensible lace-up shoes.

‘What if your parents turn up unexpectedly?’ Ellie asked. ‘Have you thought of that?’

‘I’ll make sure they don’t,’ Bonny said firmly. ‘Once I tell them I’ve got a maid they’ll stop worrying. Besides, I told them a while ago that I haven’t got a room fit for them to sleep in. They wouldn’t come all this way from London on the off-chance.’

Old Dr Franklin was doddery. He was small, with snowy white hair, watery blue eyes and a face like crumpled parchment. His surgery was dusty and strewn with books, bottles of pills and medicine, and his patients’ notes were dumped in cardboard boxes rather than filed.

‘You’re a fine healthy girl,’ he said after he’d examined Ellie and taken her blood pressure. ‘I wish all my young mothers were in such good shape.’

Ellie felt no sense of alarm, despite Dr Franklin’s age or the condition of the surgery. Perhaps if she needed an operation she might have been nervous about his shaking hands and the fact that he needed a stick to get across the room, but when he gently prodded her stomach she felt the wealth of experience in those hands and his manner was reassuring.

‘I’m not a lover of home deliveries myself, especially for first babies,’ he said unexpectedly when Ellie asked about the nursing home. She’d been certain he would try to insist she had it at home like almost everyone else. ‘I’ll write you a letter to take there. Now just make sure you get plenty of rest and drink lots of milk. If you have any problems later on I can always make a home visit.’

He turned his attentions to Bonny next. As the wig they ordered by post hadn’t arrived yet, Bonny had transformed herself into a plain and dumpy lady’s maid with the help of a green woolly hat, a pair of spectacles and a shabby, too large coat.

‘Make sure Mrs Norton has liver at least once a week, and plenty of green vegetables,’ he said curtly. ‘Call me if anything unusual happens. As you live some distance from the nursing home I’m sure they can arrange to take Mrs Norton in a couple of days before the expected delivery.’

The weeks sped by as the girls made their preparations. Ellie often felt she ought to be more anxious, but as each day passed she found herself overtaken by a kind of sweet torpor which numbed reality. For the first time in her life she had time to herself. She studied the script of
Soho
Sir Miles had given her before she left London, read the baby book, and rested.

Bonny was like a little mother to her, making sure she ate the right nutritious foods and drank endless glasses of milk and refusing to allow her to help with anything but the very lightest chores. When Enoch worked in the garden, Ellie stayed upstairs out of sight, sewing baby clothes or reading. Occasionally when he was having a cup of tea in the kitchen with Bonny she would yell out questions in the Bristol accent she’d instantly picked up on during their shopping trip.

‘Where’s the feather duster to, Mrs Norton?’ she’d shout over the banisters, or, ‘I can’t finds any piller cases.’

After Enoch had left, Ellie would have Bonny in fits of laughter with a continuing impersonation of this rather dim, overweight maid whose name was supposed to be Nancy Trotter, or as Ellie called her in more Bristolian style, ‘Nancy Trottle’. There was no real sense of wrongdoing now; each day their shared baby bonded them closer and closer.

Before Ellie arrived, Bonny had got a local man to distemper the smallest of the bedrooms in pale lemon. Now together they brought things down from the attic to turn it into a nursery. Ellie sewed a pretty padded lining to the ancient wicker crib which had once been John’s, Bonny painted a small chest of drawers white and in the evenings they both knitted small squares of bright wool to join together and make a patchwork blanket.

Letters came from John almost daily and sometimes he telephoned too. These were the only times Ellie really felt guilty, when she overheard Bonny relating her own symptoms, complaining of swollen ankles, shortness of breath and heartburn, and had to retreat out of earshot.

November brought gales. The chestnut trees shed their last leaves and at night they creaked ominously. Once Enoch had gone home, Ellie often went out into the garden to rake up the leaves. She wanted to go for walks, but she was getting too big now to risk being seen.

The long-awaited cot and pram were delivered in early December from the shop in Bristol. Ellie stood back, letting Bonny play at putting in the covers, lifting the hood and fitting the shopping bag into it, reminding herself that by the time the baby was old enough to take for walks she wouldn’t be there. But when she went into Wells alone for her second checkup at the nursing home, she bought a brightly coloured beaded toy to stretch across the front of the pram and a small teddy bear.

Ellie was worried about Edward. She wished she had been able to tell him the truth, but she knew what his reaction would be if she had. The only way out was to stick to the same lie she’d told everyone else. Nothing other than an exciting trip away from England would have been a strong enough reason to want to leave
Oklahoma
, and it had to be somewhere far away so neither he, nor anyone else could check up on her.

He had been suspicious at hearing she had an aunt in Canada, when she’d never mentioned it before, and questioned her closely about it. But desperation had made Ellie a plausible liar, and she’d managed to convince him of an old dancing friend of her mother’s. Now he would be hurt when she didn’t write from Canada, assuming she’d forgotten him in the excitement of seeing a new country. All she could do was read a couple of books of John’s on Canada and hope that when she returned, he’d believe her excuse, that her ‘Aunt Betty’ never gave her a minute to write.

‘We’ll have to admit I’m here before Christmas,’ Ellie said thoughtfully one afternoon as Bonny was dressing a Christmas tree Enoch had bought. It was bizarre to see Bonny dressed identically to her, the cushion they’d made together strapped around her middle under her frock. Bonny had begun unconsciously to copy Ellie’s mannerisms and walk. She plodded, often held her back and had a way of perching on things which made her look entirely natural as an expectant mother. ‘Suppose you tell John I’m coming back because I’m worried about you. Then we can kill Nancy off for good.’

‘Won’t Edward wonder why you didn’t stop off to see him on the way through London?’

‘I’ll just write from here and say I didn’t like you being alone. That’s perfectly understandable,’ Ellie said. ‘It will appease your parents too. But I don’t think you can stay here while I’m in the nursing home. It would blow the whole thing if someone saw you. You’ll have to get a room near the hospital.’

‘That’s the only bit I’m worried about,’ Bonny sighed. ‘What if Mum and Dad take it into their heads to come down to see me there? After all, it’s their first grandchild. Imagine if they just walked in unannounced and found you in my bed.’

‘You must write now and make it quite clear they can’t come,’ Ellie said in alarm. ‘Use the excuse no visitors except husbands are allowed and say they can come to stay here once John’s home again. Lay it on really thick about how hard it is to find this house, and that I’m in the only room fit for them. That should do it.’

A huge parcel arrived from John on December 20th. Ellie peeped over the banisters to see Bonny putting on a wonderful performance of the helpless pregnant woman for the postman while he carried it right into the sitting-room. Once he’d gone, she waddled downstairs to find Bonny ripping it open with childish glee.

‘Just look at all this!’ she said, pulling out one gaily wrapped present after another.

‘Shouldn’t you wait until Christmas Day?’ Ellie asked, flopping down breathlessly into a chair to watch. She was getting very tired now, and often fell asleep in a chair during the day.

‘I can’t wait till then,’ Bonny threw over her shoulder as she continued to pull out parcels. ‘Besides, we’re due at the nursing home on the 27th; there might be food we can eat now.’

Sure enough, halfway down the box was tinned meat, preserved fruit, sweets, chocolates, coffee, dried fruit and several bags of sugar.

‘What feasts we can have.’ Bonny opened a box of chocolates, stuffed one in her mouth greedily and grabbed a second, then handed the box to Ellie. ‘I’d forgotten how wonderful chocolate is,’ she added with her mouth full.

The telephone rang before Bonny could open anything else.

‘Oh John,’ Ellie heard her say from the hall, her voice squeaky with excitement. ‘Your parcel has arrived. First Ellie came last night and now this. It really does feel like Christmas now.’

Ellie avoided listening as their conversation grew more intimate, but suddenly Bonny called her. ‘John wants to speak to you,’ she said, pulling a warning face.

‘Hello John,’ Ellie said nervously. She had never spoken to anyone abroad before on the telephone, and it was indistinct and crackly. Fortunately he didn’t ask any awkward questions about her flight or Canada; his anxiety was all centred on Bonny.

‘Is she well?’ he asked. ‘I’ve been so worried and it’s such a relief to hear you’re there now. I was going to send a telegram to her parents and ask them to spend Christmas there with her.’

‘Don’t do that, John. You know how Bonny is about her mother, they would only end up squabbling and upsetting each other. Besides, she’s never been better,’ Ellie said quite honestly, smiling at Bonny stuffing yet another chocolate in her mouth. ‘I think I ought to confiscate the chocolates, though, before she makes herself sick.’

She reassured him she would take Bonny to the nursing home herself and that she would be staying nearby so she could visit her every day.

‘I’ll send you a telegram the moment the baby’s arrived,’ she finished up. ‘And I’ll stay here afterwards until Bonny’s back on her feet and coping. That’s the time for her mother to come. I’ll get the room ready for her.’

John’s last words made her shake with guilt.

‘You are such a good friend, Ellie,’ he said. ‘I can’t thank you enough for giving me peace of mind. Happy Christmas.’

Ellie woke the next morning with an ache in her back. She put on her dressing-gown and went downstairs to find Bonny on her hands and knees cleaning out the fireplace in the sitting-room.

‘I’m not sure, but I think it’s starting,’ Ellie said in a small voice. ‘It’s not how they say in the book, it’s just a bit of an ache in my back.’

Over some toast and tea they discussed what they should do.

‘Go and have a bath and get dressed,’ Bonny said calmly, but her eyes betrayed that she too was scared. ‘The book said it takes hours and hours the first time. Enoch will be here in a minute. I’ll make some excuse to get rid of him, then call a taxi.’

By twelve, Ellie knew it really was labour. She was all ready, her small case packed, with toiletries and baby clothes, as well as two of Bonny’s glamorous nightdresses, dressing-gown, slippers and a framed photograph of John to create the right impression for the nurses. But she was frightened now. They had centered all their plans on her being safe in the nursing home well before labour started.

Enoch was still sawing logs by the side of the house. Until he was gone they didn’t dare leave.

The pains were coming every five minutes and were insistent enough to say she must make a move soon. Bonny kept flapping in and out, at a loss as to how to get rid of Enoch without making him suspicious. She couldn’t dress herself in Ellie’s clothes and the dark wig until he’d gone, and she was beginning to panic.

‘He thinks he’s doing me a favour.’ She shrugged helplessly as she came back upstairs at half-past one after talking to Enoch again. ‘He’s cut enough logs for the whole of January.’

‘Ask him to stop because you want to have a sleep,’ Ellie suggested, squirming in her chair as a stronger pain began. ‘Tell him the noise is giving us both a headache.’

Ellie watched from behind the curtain as Bonny went out to speak to Enoch. He lifted his cap as Bonny approached him and looked up at the windows when she spoke. Their conversation wasn’t a brief one; Enoch kept looking at the house and Ellie sensed he was worried about something. But at last he took his saw to the potting shed and Bonny came back into the house. As Ellie watched from the window, she saw Enoch wheeling out his old rusting bicycle.