The thought of Gracie having another baby had hurt far more than she could ever have thought, not because she didn’t want her to but because Ruby wished it was she herself. There was nothing that she would love more than to have another baby with Johnnie Riordan, Maggie’s father.
Ruby had been much luckier than Gracie in that she knew where her daughter was, who she was with and how she was getting on; she was also able to see her and have a relationship with her, even it was always as a big sister rather than a mother.
George and Babs Wheaton were her parents, and that’s how it was going to have to stay, until the time was right for Maggie to know about her true parentage.
Ruby was eternally grateful to the Wheatons, the couple who had taken her into their home during her evacuation from Walthamstow. She had been a scared ten-year-old away from her home and family for the first time in her life and they taken her into their home and cared for her then as if she were their own. They had also cared for her when she discovered she was expecting a baby at the tender age of sixteen and had no one else to turn to.
And it was George Wheaton’s sister Leonora who had given Ruby a safe place to stay during her pregnancy at the Thamesview, away from everyone who knew her.
‘Leonora, we’re so grateful to you for helping us and for helping Ruby. She’s got herself into a bit of a fix …’
‘I can see that,’ Leonora Wheaton said, her stance straight-backed and her expression severe as she looked Ruby up and down. ‘And I can see from looking that it’s more serious than a “bit of a fix,” George. You always did play things down. Anyway we’d better go through to the lounge, you’ll never get that clunky old chair up the stairs and we certainly can’t carry you.’
Ruby was shocked at Leonora’s tone and words aimed at her wheelchair-bound brother but when George and Babs both laughed she realised that it was a form of banter between brother and sister. But she couldn’t bring herself to join in because she was mortified to be there. As she followed them into the lounge she felt gauche and stupid and she hated herself for getting in that position, but as everyone was doing their best by her she knew she just had to accept her new situation.
She couldn’t go back to the family home in Walthamstow in London which was dominated by her overbearing brothers and if she stayed in Melton with the Wheatons then everyone would know; she had no choice but to stay with Leonora Wheaton in Southend.
Ruby was sixteen and had only met George Wheaton’s sister a couple of times, yet now she was going to live with the woman in her hotel. It wasn’t where she wanted to be but she accepted it was a good option because she would be able to see out her pregnancy in secret; she wouldn’t stand out because she was staying there under the guise of being Leonora’s niece: a young, pregnant war widow. Once the baby was born and adopted, then she could go back to her normal life, as if nothing had happened.
After the Wheatons left, Leonora showed Ruby up to her room, which was nowhere near as bad as she had been expecting. She had imagined something basic and solitary but it was actually the comfortable second bedroom in Leonora’s private flat on the top floor of the hotel.
‘Here you are, Ruby. There are a few rules I expect you to obey while you’re here but most of them are just good manners, which I’ve been told you have. I also expect you to help out in the hotel. It’s a small establishment so we all work really hard and you will be required to do the same and earn your keep.’ Once again Leonora looked at her belly. ‘As long as you’re able, of course. I don’t want to be accused of taking advantage of you.’
‘Yes, Mrs Wheaton,’ Ruby said quietly.
‘It’s not Mrs Wheaton, it’s
Miss
Wheaton but that aside, you have to call me Aunt Leonora if you’re to be my niece. I hope we can rub along together for the next few months. My brother wants me to take you under my wing, so I shall, but that’s not to say I approve of your condition …’
‘Thank you, Mrs Wh … sorry, Aunt Leonora. Thank you for having me and I’ll do everything I can to help out. I don’t want to be a burden. Aunty Babs and Uncle George have done so much for me.’
Ruby had been determined to just do whatever she had to do to get the whole nightmare over with as soon as possible, but her bottom lip wobbled as she realised that she was going to have to stay where she was right up until she gave birth: there was no going back. She looked down at her feet and sniffed.
‘Don’t get emotional on me, child. I have enough to deal with already. Can you cook?’ Leonora asked suddenly.
‘A bit …’
‘In that case, go into the kitchen over there and see what you can find for dinner for both of us. I have to go back down and see to my guests.’
That moment had been the start of a relationship between them; they got along together to the extent that a genuine affection developed between the unlikely couple. Leonora had asked few questions of her young houseguest but something had made Ruby confide in her.
Leonora would often sit out on her balcony, watching the liners and fishing boats going back and forth, while Ruby would sit alongside her and talk.
Ruby told Leonora about her family life, about her time in evacuation and also about Johnnie Riordan, the father of her baby. Naturally, Ruby held some facts back; she didn’t tell Leonora that he was the local wheeler-dealer in Walthamstow who dabbled in the black market and hung around with local criminals. But she did tell her that she loved Johnnie and that was why she’d left Walthamstow without telling him she was pregnant.
When Ruby had her daughter Maggie, it was agreed that rather than have her adopted by strangers, the childless Wheatons would take her back to their home in Cambridgeshire and bring her up as their own. In the beginning it had been hard for Ruby, but her friendship with Gracie McCabe helped her through, and when the time came for her to leave Southend Leonora Wheaton offered her a job and asked her to stay.
It was the start of Ruby’s new life and she would be forever grateful to the woman who had given her the chance to start anew.
Gracie was standing looking out of the window when Ruby went back into the office. ‘I’m such a selfish cow, aren’t I?’ she turned and smiled. ‘I’ve got everything I ever wanted and still I grumble. Ignore me …’
‘Johnnie’s bringing the drinks through in a minute.’
‘Okay. Quick coffee and then I’ll get to work. I’m not ill, I’m expecting a baby so I need to pull myself together and get on with it.’
Ruby looked at her curiously. ‘Blimey, that’s a quick turnaround …’
‘I realised you’re right. We didn’t give up our babies because we were selfish; we did what was for the best. We’re both really lucky with our lives so no more feeling sorry for myself.’
‘I know. Despite everything, we’ve done well for ourselves, haven’t we? We’re both okay, aren’t we?’
‘We are. Will you and Johnnie come out with us one evening to celebrate? We could go to a dance in town?’
‘Of course we will,’ Ruby said with a wide smile, which belied her own inner turmoil.
Gracie sighed out loud when she heard the doorbell. She really wasn’t in the mood to see anyone, least of all someone she wasn’t expecting. After the initial euphoria it had turned out to be a difficult pregnancy, and she was making the most of some time at home on her own to put her feet up and rest. She sometimes smiled at the irony of it all; her first pregnancy when she was single and unmarried had been problem-free and yet this time, when she could have relaxed and enjoyed it, it was turning into a nightmare.
The nausea was ongoing and she felt constantly unwell; she was convinced that, despite all the reassurances from everyone, something was going to go wrong with either the birth or the baby. With more than two months still to go she found herself just wishing it was all over.
Gracie crept over to the window and peered round the corner of the net curtains to see who was down at the door but just as she peeked, her sister looked up and saw her.
‘Cooeee, Gracie … only me. Are you going to open this door or what? I’m freezing to death out here!’
As she shouted up to her, the young woman below shielded her eyes with one hand and waved with the other.
Just seeing Jeanette on the doorstep made Gracie feel nervous. The thought of having to sit and make conversation filled her with dread but there was no way out of it now she’d been seen, so she opened the window and waved back.
‘I’ll be there in a minute …’ she shouted down, annoyed that she’d let herself be seen.
‘Well, get a move on then, fatso, or you could throw a key down …’ Jeanette laughed.
Although Jeanette and Jennifer were twins by birth they couldn’t have been more different in nature. Jeanette had always been the more demanding and troublesome one who, from the moment she was born, had screamed loud and hard if she didn’t get her own way. She was the one who made the most noise when she wasn’t invited to be a bridesmaid and she was the one who was making all the decisions about the joint wedding that she and her twin Jennifer were planning.
Despite being younger by ten minutes, Jeanette had always been the leader, while her twin was the quiet thinker who no one really ever got to know, the one who, when things went wrong, would withdraw into herself for weeks at a time. It was because of that no one ever really knew what Jennifer was thinking or how she was feeling.
When they were young, the four-year age gap between Gracie and the twins had meant that they were never really close, especially as Gracie had always struggled with her mother’s favouritism. From the moment they were born Dot McCabe had focused all her energy on the twins, with Gracie left to fend for herself. Then as the twins grew up and developed their own very different personalities Dot focused everything on Jennifer, the one who caused her the least problems; the one who could seemingly do no wrong.
The three sisters were siblings but had never been friends and Gracie’s relationship with them was very superficial and occasional, especially after she had left home.
Although Jennifer had called round a few times to see Gracie after the wedding, Jeanette had only ever been to the flat once, so, because she knew her so well, Gracie quickly surmised that her outgoing sister probably wanted something.
She went downstairs to the shared lobby and as she pulled the door back, her sister bounced past her, taking the stairs two at a time.
‘God, it’s nippy out there! You took so long I thought I was going to freeze to the doorstep. I’ve lost my gloves and I need some warmth,’ she shouted over her shoulder.
By the time Gracie got into the lounge, Jeanette was already settled in the armchair next to the fire and rubbing her hands in front of the flames.
‘Hello Jeannie. Nice to see you too …’ Gracie said, but the sarcasm in her voice went straight over her sister’s head.
‘Thanks, Gracie! I tell you what, I really need a cuppa after the morning I’ve just had. No sugar for me, though. I’m watching my waistline, it’s growing too quickly for my liking, and my bosom. Never mind June busting out all over, so is Jeannie McCabe,’ she laughed and Gracie couldn’t help but smile.
‘Is that because you’ve chosen your wedding dress?’ Gracie asked.
‘Actually that’s what I want to talk to you about, as soon as you’ve made me a cuppa. And I could murder a bit of cake as well, if you’ve got any …’ Jeanette smiled coyly and put on the little girl expression that she thought was cute and which men always found endearing, but which had always infuriated the rest of her family.
Gracie sighed but didn’t say anything more. Feeling even more nauseous and light-headed than she had before, she went through to the tiny kitchen and made a pot of tea, taking it back on a tray with two cups, a jug of milk and a couple of rich tea biscuits on the side of each saucer.
‘That’s a bit la-di-dah, what’s going on with you? A tea tray? Are you turning into mum?’ Jeanette laughed again but Gracie wasn’t sure if it was humour or meanness. She always found her sister hard to figure out.
‘It’s just a tray and you either get your tea on a tray or we squeeze in the kitchen and stand up and drink it. I’m not running back and forth. You can take it or leave it. And no, there isn’t any cake.’
‘Well, that’s bleedin’ snappy, even for you. What’s up?’
Gracie sat down heavily on the brown utility sofa and with great effort, lifted her swollen feet up on the red leather pouffe that looked like a camel. The flat was fully furnished by the landlord, and although Sean had wanted to put it out of sight in the cupboard Gracie had rather liked the exoticness of it. It made her think of pyramids and sand, and also reminded her of Leonora Wheaton and her dreams of far-flung places.
As Gracie sat back on the sofa she sighed. She felt like a big fat frump alongside her fashionably turned out younger sister. Despite being newly washed her hair was as lank and straight as it had been when she was a child, her skirt was too tight, even with the stretch of elastic holding the fastening together, and the borrowed maternity smock that she was wearing over her jumper was like a billowing tent. She hadn’t wanted to spend money on unnecessary maternity clothes and she didn’t have the time to make anything so she just made do when she was indoors. But with Jeanette sitting opposite her looking perfect, Gracie felt more like a down-at-heel old tramp than a young woman expecting her first baby.
‘In case you haven’t noticed I’m expecting and I don’t feel well. I hate being like this, a useless fat lump. I just feel horrible all the time, hot and tired …’
‘You do look really fat and your legs are enormous, what’s going on with them? What are you going to look like when it’s due? We’ll need to hire a crane to get you out of the chair!’ Her sister laughed but Gracie wanted to cry.
‘You can be so bloody horrible sometimes, Jeannie …’
‘Oh, don’t be so touchy, I was only trying to cheer you up. I didn’t mean it like that, you know I don’t!’ Jeanette paused and looked at her sister critically. ‘But I mean, you
are
fat, more that you’re supposed to be. Are you still working or sitting around all day? That’d make you fat, I suppose, and eating too much …’