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Authors: Catrin Collier

BOOK: Homecoming
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‘Joy, Roy, Brian's mother, his cousins who helped him open the garage, who are going to inspect it after the ceremony, and Judy and Brian.'

‘Judy hasn't invited you or Helen?'

‘She asked if we'd like to go, but to be honest we didn't want to without Lily and between her being in hospital and Martin being the way he is, and Helen and Jack …'

‘No one feels much like celebrating,' John suggested.

‘We all will when Lily comes home. With her baby,' Katie said firmly.

‘You've picked up your keys?' Helen asked, as she left her chair and walked to the living-room door.

‘Yes,' Jack replied.

‘I'll make up a bed.'

‘Please don't. I'll follow you up and make it while you have a bath. It won't take me long. Since Lily has been in hospital, Martin and I have become quite domesticated.'

‘If you're sure …'

‘I'm sure, Helen.'

‘I'll say goodnight then.'

‘Goodnight.' He sat and listened while she climbed the stairs. Shortly afterwards he heard the bolt slide home on the bathroom door and the taps being turned on. Leaving his chair, he checked all the doors in the house before following Helen up the stairs. The routine was so terrifyingly familiar, he tried not to think how he'd feel if she asked him to leave a second time.

He had just finished making up a bed in one of the spare rooms when he heard a sob. He walked to the door of the master bedroom and knocked. ‘Are you all right?'

‘Yes,' came a muffled reply.

‘Can I get you anything?'

‘No, go away.'

‘Do you mean that?' he asked quietly.

‘No.'

He opened the door. The room was in darkness; the only light came from the moonlight that streamed in through the unshuttered windows. Helen was sitting up in bed clutching a handkerchief.

‘Is there anything I can do?' he questioned softly.

She shook her head

As he went to close the door, she called out, ‘Stay with me, Jack.'

‘You want me to sleep here, with you?'

She nodded.

‘Helen, I couldn't promise to keep my hands off you if I did.'

‘I wouldn't want you to.'

He went to her and pulled her head down on to his chest. ‘I am so sorry for hurting you, sweetheart. Can we start again?'

‘I don't know. I honestly don't.' She looked into his eyes, darkly glittering in the subdued light. ‘But I do know that I want to try.'

‘Mr and Mrs Brian Powell.' Brian handed Judy the glass of champagne he had poured for her before picking up his own. ‘The wedding wasn't – how did Sam put it? Too “hole in the corner” for you, was it?'

‘No, but talk about something borrowed and something new,' Judy smiled. ‘If it hadn't been for John opening up the warehouse yesterday and Katie and Helen's help I would have had to get married in my brown sack dress.'

‘And very beautiful you would have looked in it too, darling.' Brian sat on the sofa and patted the space beside him.

‘Is that what my life is going to be like from now on, nothing but compliments?'

‘You object?'

‘Absolutely not, and your mother is sweet. And after meeting William and Ronnie I can see where you get it from.'

‘I am just breaking you in gently, a taster for when I take you up to Pontypridd.'

‘Outings as well as all your worldly goods,' she beamed. ‘You really do know how to spoil a wife.'

‘Which reminds me.' Brian slipped his hand beneath the sofa and pulled out a parcel. ‘My wedding present to you.'

‘You've changed your mind about getting me a new car?'

‘No, the wife of a garage owner has to drive around in a new car; it's an obligatory part of her duties to advertise her husband's business. This,' he dropped the parcel on to her lap, ‘is an extra.'

‘I have nothing for you.'

‘I am devastated by your thoughtlessness and neglect, but seeing as you married me today, I'll overlook your miserliness and allow you to open your gift.'

‘What is it?'

‘You've lost your X-ray vision.'

Knowing she wasn't going to get any sense out of him while he remained in his present flippant mood, she tore off the ribbon and paper and uncovered a silver frame. Inside was the photograph of them that had been taken at the policeman's ball in London.

‘Don't you like it?' he asked, as a tear fell from her eye.

‘It's the best present I've ever had.'

‘Thank you God for giving me an easily satisfied and cheap woman.' He rolled his eyes heavenwards.

‘I didn't know you had a copy,' she whispered, when she could finally talk.

‘That, I'll have you know, is a cherished memento of the best night of my life.'

‘You said you gave me the only copy.'

‘I didn't want you to think I was sentimental.'

‘And now?' She smiled at him through her tears.

‘And now you know I am. Come to bed, wife.'

Chapter Twenty-five

… Jack loves and has only ever loved you just as I only ever loved my husband. Please, try to forgive him. It really wasn't his fault.

Yours sincerely,

Maggie Jones

Helen re-read the end of Maggie's letter twice before folding it and returning it to her handbag. She had looked at it hundreds of times since the day she had received it and now that she and Jack had been back together for more than three months it seemed strangely irrelevant except when she thought of the baby Maggie was carrying, and the letter Lily had written to her during her week's stay in the hostel.

‘Mrs Clay, Mrs Jones didn't tell me that she was expecting a visit from you today. You do know that we try to restrict family visits to Sunday afternoons,' the matron reprimanded, as she entered the anteroom.

Helen rose from the stone bench. ‘Yes, I do, and I apologise for calling in unexpectedly like this. Mrs Jones didn't know that I was coming. In fact I didn't until half an hour ago. I had to visit a supplier in Carmarthen – I'm a buyer for a warehouse,' she explained, ‘and I was driving close to here so I thought I'd drop in on the off chance that you would allow me to see her. How is she?'

‘As well as a woman in her advanced stage of pregnancy can be in this heat. How is your sister-in-law?'

‘You do know that Lily haemorrhaged again after she left here?'

‘Yes, she wrote to me.'

‘She's been kept on bed rest in Swansea hospital ever since.'

‘She must be,' the matron did a quick calculation, ‘almost seven months now.'

‘Just over.'

‘Please, tell her that I was asking about her the next time you see her.'

‘I'll put it in my next letter to her and tell Martin,' Helen promised. ‘He is the only one allowed to visit her.'

The matron glanced at her watch. ‘If you'll excuse me, I have work to do. You'll find Mrs Jones in the garden at the back of the house.'

‘Thank you.'

Helen left the anteroom, which, despite the heat, was the temperature of a fridge, walked down the short flight of steps into the courtyard and through the arch that led to the gardens. The heady scent of old-fashioned cabbage roses and pinks filled the still, hot air.

A group of pregnant girls were sitting on blankets spread on the lawn, but they were all far younger than Maggie. She held her hand above her eyes to block out the sun's glare and saw her, sitting on a bench set in the shade of a shrubbery with another girl she recognised as Emily Murton Davies.

‘Mrs Clay, this is a surprise.' Maggie struggled to her feet and Helen was amazed by how much weight she had gained since she had last seen her.

‘How are you?' Forcing herself to overcome her initial embarrassment, Helen shook Maggie's hand.

‘As you see.' Maggie lowered herself back on to the seat. ‘What brings you to this part of the world?'

‘Business. I was passing the door, so I thought I'd call in.'

‘I'll go and see what the other girls are doing.' When neither Maggie nor Helen tried to detain her, Emily headed down to the patio.

‘Given this heat wave, I expect you'll be glad when the baby's born.' Helen sat beside Maggie on the bench.

‘Not entirely,' Maggie rested her hands on her bump. ‘These are the last weeks I'll be able to call him entirely mine, but I will be glad to see my children again.' Maggie folded a letter she had been reading and pushed it into an envelope. ‘My mother collects everything the children write to me and sends it on once a week. Today I got a photograph as well. They have grown so much since I've been here.'

‘May I see?' Helen pulled off her gloves and set her handbag on the ground at her feet.

Maggie handed her a snapshot of an elderly couple standing behind four formally posed children. The group looked stiff and awkward, but there was no mistaking the mischief in the two boys' eyes or the boredom in the pose of the two small and very pretty girls.

‘They are lovely children,' Helen complimented, handing the photograph back, ‘but the boys look a bit of a handful.'

‘They are, but I have a feeling that you didn't come here to talk about me or my children.'

‘No.' Helen looked Maggie in the eye. ‘I came to talk to you because I think I'd like to adopt your baby.'

‘“Think” seems an odd word to use in conjunction with adoption, Mrs Clay.'

‘This isn't a spur of the moment thing. I am one hundred per cent certain that I want to adopt a baby. Jack and I are back together.'

‘I am so glad.' Maggie smiled and Helen sensed that she was genuinely pleased for them.

‘We talked about adoption before – before you wrote to Jack.' Helen averted her eyes and pushed her gloves into her handbag. ‘And if it hadn't been for your letter we would have gone to our doctor months ago. He's a close friend of my father and he arranges private adoptions. Matches couples who can't have children with young girls who can't keep their babies.'

‘But I'm not a young girl and your husband is the father of my baby.'

‘And that is why I can't be sure how I'll feel when I see your baby for the first time. It won't be just any baby, it will be Jack's baby, and I honestly don't know whether I can bring it up.'

‘Because you are afraid that the child will remind you that Jack was unfaithful.'

‘Yes.'

Maggie shifted awkwardly on the bench. ‘Has Jack asked you to consider adopting my baby?'

‘No. We only started discussing adoption again two weeks ago because we both thought that our priority had to be rebuilding our relationship.'

‘That was wise of you. Children can put an enormous strain on a couple.'

‘If their marriage isn't strong enough.'

‘And you are sure that yours and Jack's is now?'

‘I am,' Helen smiled. ‘It may sound odd, but if anything it's stronger than it was before he returned from Cyprus. We had been apart for so long I think we both had a slightly romanticised idea of the other, and since then – well, Jack hurt me and I – I don't want to go into it – tried to hurt him. But despite everything that's happened, we still love one another very much and the one thing that both of us want more than anything else is a family. I know Jack wants to bring up his child. We may not have discussed adopting it, but he has talked about you and how he'll feel when your baby is born and you have to give it up. He can't bear the thought of his son or daughter being brought up by strangers.'

‘This child will need a mother as well as a father, Mrs Clay. The worst thing you could do is adopt it just because Jack wants to. You both have to be absolutely certain that you want to bring it up.'

‘I know. That is why I'd like to see it before I make a commitment. Do you understand?'

‘Are you also afraid that the child will look like me?'

‘A little.'

‘Thank you for being honest with me.'

‘I've tried to imagine how I'd feel if I were you, and I had to give a baby away to be brought up by strangers. As it is, you've met Jack and me, and all the experts and the books insist that adoptions should be anonymous.'

‘And you're not sure?'

‘I will be, I know I will.' Helen said resolutely. ‘Just as soon as I hold your baby, then I'll know right away whether or not I can bring him up. What I don't know is how you'd feel if Jack and I adopted him. Or even if it could be arranged.'

‘I can ask the matron if she could arrange a private adoption.'

‘Would you do that?'

‘I'll think about it.'

There was a cry further down the garden and they both jumped up as Emily gripped a tree and doubled over.

Helen ran across the lawn and reached her before Maggie. Holding the girl, she looked around for a seat but the nearest one was the bench they had been sitting on.

‘We need help. Now,' Maggie shouted to the girls sitting on the lawn.

‘What's all this noise, ladies?' The matron sized up the situation as soon as she opened the side door. ‘Bath and enema for you, Davies. You can have another few minutes with Mrs Clay if you like, Maggie.'

‘Good luck, Emily,' one of the girls called, as the matron led her away.

‘She looks terrified,' Helen said to Maggie.

‘Probably because she is. I remember my first labour. I didn't have a clue what to expect and that made it ten times worse. My second, third and fourth births were much easier. But then, I was a respectable married woman and had a husband.' Maggie gave Helen a sad little smile. ‘I promise to think about what you said and I will talk to Matron.'

‘This is my telephone number at the office.' Helen handed Maggie a card. ‘We're not on the telephone at home but my father is. I've written his number on the back. I've already spoken to him about this and he's agreed to see the doctor and do everything he can to help, should you allow us to have your baby.'

‘If you want him or her.'

‘You do understand …'

‘That you have to see it first, yes.' Maggie walked towards the courtyard with Helen. ‘I don't know how I'd feel about you and Jack adopting my baby because I haven't had any time to consider it. But I do know one thing, Mrs Clay, when the time comes, you and Jack will make wonderful parents.'

‘Thank you.' Helen held out her hand as she reached her car. ‘Goodbye, and good luck.' On impulse she kissed Maggie's cheek.

Martin glanced at his watch as he ran down the stairs. He was furious. Who in hell could be ringing him at six in the morning … then he thought of Lily and almost fell down the last half a dozen steps.

‘Mr Clay, it's Swansea hospital.'

‘Lily,' he muttered thickly.

‘I'm sorry to ring you so early in the morning, Mr Clay.'

‘Lily …'

‘Your wife began to haemorrhage again last night. We had no option but to operate.'

Martin sank down on the bottom stair, unaware that Brian and Judy were standing on the landing behind him.

‘We performed an emergency Caesarean. It's early days, but the doctor is confident that both your wife and your daughter will make a full recovery, Mr Clay.'

‘A daughter …'

‘She is small but considering the size of your wife and the fact that she's six weeks premature, at three-and-a-half pounds, she is not that small for her age and she's already proved herself a fighter. She's in an incubator and we are doing all we can for her.'

As comprehension dawned, Martin blurted, ‘Lily and the baby are going to be all right?'

‘It certainly looks that way, Mr Clay.'

‘Can I see them?'

‘It's against hospital regulations for fathers to visit outside of visiting hours but in view of the circumstances, the doctor thought that we might make an exception in your case. If you could call in this morning …'

‘I'm on my way.'

‘Mr Clay, it will be a short visit. Your wife is still recovering from the anaesthetic.'

‘I'm coming,' Martin shouted.

‘In that case, we'll expect you soon, Mr Clay.'

‘You have a daughter.' Brian grinned, as Martin dropped the receiver next to the telephone.

‘A three-and-a-half pound daughter …'

‘Get dressed and I'll drive you to the hospital.' Brian ran down the stairs and replaced the receiver on its cradle.

‘Congratulations, Marty.' Judy kissed his cheek, as he charged upstairs.

‘I've a daughter …' Grabbing Judy, Martin pulled her on to the landing and jumped up and down. ‘I've a daughter.'

‘And the poor thing has an insane father.' Brian looked at Judy who was almost as excited as Martin. ‘And a mad aunt.'

‘If you'd both like to come with me, I'll take you to the nursery.' The sister led Martin and Brian out of the waiting area, pushed open a set of double doors and walked down a long corridor. They turned a corner, the sister opened yet another set of doors and stopped in front of a glass paned wall. Two nurses, both masked and gowned, were sitting, bottle-feeding babies in a large room containing rows of cots.

‘The first incubator on the left, Mr Clay. That is your daughter.'

Martin stared at the tiny scrap of humanity lying in the glass box. To his amazement, the baby's eyes were open and her tiny arms and legs moving, waving in the air. It seemed incredible that something so small, so fragile, was capable of life.

‘She may look a little strange now, premature babies generally do, but give her a couple of weeks and she'll soon catch up to where she should be.'

‘Does Lily know that we have a daughter?' His voice sound odd, choked.

‘We told her when she regained consciousness just before we telephoned you.'

‘Has she seen her?'

‘Not yet. As soon as she's strong enough, we'll wheel her down here.'

‘Just look at those tight black curls. She's going to be a stunner, Marty.' Brian brushed his hand across his eyes.

‘Can I see Lily?' Martin asked.

‘For a few minutes.' The nurse looked at Brian. ‘You'll have to stay in the waiting room.'

‘Tell Lily she's a miracle worker and give her my love,' Brian called, as Martin and the nurse left him.

Lily turned her head and smiled sleepily when Martin tiptoed into her cubicle. ‘Have you seen her?'

‘Yes, and she's beautiful, just like her mother.' Martin pulled a chair close to the bed, picked up Lily's hand, and kissed it. ‘But the best news is, if you lie there quietly and do as you're told, you are going to be fine.'

‘And the baby?'

‘Looks fighting fit. A real wriggler and squirmer. I can't wait to have you both home.'

‘I can't wait to be home, Marty.'

‘Mr Clay.'

‘See you tonight, darling.' Martin kissed Lily and followed the sister out.

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