Lizzie's Secret (38 page)

Lizzie screamed again and a sudden urge to push made her bear down hard, gripping Mrs Court's hand until she tried to pull away. There was a whooshing feeling and then something came through just as Maggie returned.

‘Ah, there we are,' she said triumphantly. ‘What a clever girl you are, Lizzie – the head is out already. Now, have another go when you're ready and we'll soon be done.'

Lizzie felt like hitting her, but the sound of a huge explosion that must have been at least in the street if not next door shocked her and in the terror of the moment she pushed hard and the rest of the child came slithering out in a mess of slime and blood.

‘What a brilliant way to have a baby,' Maggie said. ‘I must recommend loud explosions to the medical team at the hospital. Good girl, Lizzie – and you've got a lovely little girl…'

‘Not a boy?' Beth said. ‘Lizzie's aunt was sure it was a boy…'

‘Well, we can all make mistakes,' Maggie said and lifted the child away. ‘What a beauty. I'll give her a nice wash and wrap her in a towel for now while I look after you…'

‘You'll be all right now, love,' Beth said. ‘I'd better go and feed the twins before they scream the place down.' She smiled, kissed Lizzie and left.

Lizzie lay back feeling exhausted, their words seeming a long way off. Just at this moment she wasn't interested in what sex the child was, as long as it was all right. Maggie was saying how lucky she was to get it over so quickly, but Lizzie just felt drained. Perhaps it was because Harry had seemingly taken his own life that she wished she'd died during childbirth. Perhaps if she'd got caught on the street while the bombs were dropping, it would have ended there and she wouldn't feel this aching emptiness inside. Her eyes were gritty and yet she couldn't cry; her tears were locked inside her, making her hurt. The pain of learning of Harry's death was worse than the pain of childbirth and she wished she could just go to sleep and never wake up again. Just at this moment she didn't want to think about the future she would have to face alone or even her baby.

The bombs were still dropping but further away now. Lizzie felt exhausted, drained. Maggie was cleaning her and disposing of the afterbirth. She slipped the bloody sheets from under Lizzie and Beth's mother took them away.

‘I'll get you out of that dress and into a clean nightie,' Maggie said. ‘You'll feel a lot better soon, Lizzie. You're a really lucky girl to have such a lovely baby and so easily too.'

Lizzie was feeling sore and her body ached. All she wanted to do was sleep, but Maggie insisted she hold the baby for a few moments.

‘It's that special bonding,' she said, smiling as she placed the soft sweet bundle in Lizzie's arms. ‘I'm going home now; I'll come back later and see how you're getting on.'

‘Thank you. It was good of you to come – and in the middle of an air raid.'

‘I reckon we just got the tail end of it. They probably had a couple left over from bombing the docks and thought they would give us the pleasure of a little visit.'

‘Rotten devils,' Lizzie muttered. She looked down at the pink and delicate face of her baby and felt the weariness slip away as she saw her pout. Instead of the emptiness there was an enveloping warmth that held her and the child wrapped together. ‘Yes, I know. It was mean of me to bring you here while that was going on, wasn't it?'

‘What are you going to call her?' Maggie asked, lingering.

‘Elizabeth, perhaps, or Betty for short.'

‘Lovely names.'

‘Yes, my mother was Elizabeth – and there's Beth, of course. I'll call her Betty, I think.'

‘Righto,' Maggie said. ‘I'll see you in a bit, little Betty – and Lizzie…'

Beth's mother came in carrying a tray with a slice of toast and marmalade and a cup of tea. She set it down on the chest beside the bed and looked at the baby.

‘She's lovely. Let me put her in the spare cot. It's old but will do for now.'

‘It's so good of you,' Lizzie said, reluctantly giving the baby into Mrs Court's arms. ‘I feel awful causing all this extra work for you – you must have enough to do looking after the twins.'

‘Beth does most of it herself. She'll miss that if she has to leave them to go to work.'

‘Yes, she will…' Lizzie heard her baby whimpering. ‘Maggie said to feed her as soon as I feel able…'

‘You have a rest for a bit,' Beth's mother said. ‘Eat this toast and drink your tea, Lizzie love. I'll see to the baby for a bit if she cries – and Beth will be back when she's finished feeding the twins.'

*

Mrs Court wouldn't hear of Lizzie leaving until she was over the birth. She fussed over her and the child. Lizzie and Beth spent ages talking and laughing, sharing the experience of two young mothers learning to look after their babies. Beth was ahead of Lizzie and was able to show her a few tricks, but she'd had to supplement her milk with a bottle for Matt, because he was always hungry and she couldn't satisfy both the twins.

‘I feel guilty about giving your mum all this extra work.'

‘Mum loves babies; besides, what would you have done on your own in that flat? Even if the doctor had been in time to help, which I doubt, and sent his nurse to help care for you, you'd have spent too much time alone. This way I help mum and don't feel guilty about being here. Dad has given me a few funny looks when he's caught me doing ironing and washing but he hasn't told me to leave and never darken his door again…'

‘You haven't thought anymore about taking Bernie's offer of marriage then?'

‘Mum says to be sure it's what I want.' Beth looked uncertain, then, ‘I went to the workshop and told Harry's uncle you'd had the baby with us, but I didn't say anything about Harry.'

‘Thank you.' Lizzie smothered a sigh. ‘I'm not sure what to do about the funeral. Uncle Bertie would arrange it I know – but he'd find out the truth and…' Lizzie shook her head. ‘Could you go round to my flat in the morning and see if there's a letter. Robbie told me there should be an official letter – perhaps it will tell me what to do…'

‘Yes, of course I will. Don't worry about it, Lizzie. There's nothing you can do lying here, is there?'

‘I don't know who to contact…' Lizzie plucked at the bedcovers. ‘Why did it have to happen, Beth?'

‘I don't know…' Beth sighed as they heard a knock at the door. ‘Someone is at the door. Mum is out so I'll go down and answer it…'

he went down the stairs. Lizzie heard her talking to someone and then she came back, looking uncertain.

‘It's Harry's uncle. He's brought you some flowers and asked if you were well enough to see him…'

Lizzie pulled her borrowed bed jacket to at the front and nodded. ‘Ask him to come up, Beth – I might as well get it over…'

She closed her eyes, trying to think of what to say as she heard the exchange of voices and then the heavy tread of a man's steps coming upstairs.

‘Well, then, Lizzie, that was a shock when I heard you were here and the baby was early…'

‘Yes, by several weeks,' Lizzie whispered and then, gathering courage, ‘she was born during an air raid – but I had some terrible news before then. I'm sorry, Uncle Bertie, but there's no other way I can tell you… Harry is dead…'

He stared in disbelief. ‘Harry dead? What are you talking about? I thought he was coming home on a visit – your aunt said it was odd he didn't come to tell us the news himself…' For a moment he swayed as if he'd received a physical blow and then sat down on the nearest chair with a bump. She thought he was fighting for his breath and felt guilty that she hadn't broken it to him in a gentler way. ‘That's terrible, Lizzie, terrible. No wonder you gave birth too early… I'm so sorry, my dear. This is a terrible blow for you…' He shook his head as if in disbelief.

‘Yes, I was very shocked and upset…' Lizzie swallowed hard as he gave her a sympathetic look. ‘It didn't happen on a mission – there was some kind of an accident…'

‘What do you mean?'

‘His friend just said it was a car accident. I expect I'll get something from the War Office soon.' Lizzie hesitated, then, ‘He wanted to be buried not cremated. He told me that once – so I'll arrange it when I get up. I shall be out and about in a couple of days and I haven't heard about – when I can have his body…'

‘It isn't fitting that a young woman in your circumstances should have to do such a thing,' Uncle Bertie said. ‘I insist that you leave this to me. I'll arrange it for the next week or so and give you time to get well, Lizzie.'

‘Thank you…' Lizzie said, frantically wondering how she was going to conceal the truth from him. ‘I should be up by tomorrow…'

‘Nonsense, you must stay in bed for a few days and when you leave here come to us. Your aunt will be glad to look after you both…'

Beth was returning from Lizzie's home with several letters in the basket over her arm. Just as she turned the corner of the street, she saw a man in Army uniform standing outside her door. He seemed to be hesitating, turning away without knocking. She caught her breath as she saw his face… Tony!

Beth was undecided whether to walk quickly away or face him, but then she knew she couldn't avoid him forever.

‘Tony…' she said and stopped as they reached each other. ‘How are you? You haven't been hurt?'

‘No, I'm fine. I've been training most of the time, sitting around waiting to see some action – this is embarkation leave.'

‘Oh, well I wish you lots of luck,' Beth said, feeling oddly sad because they were talking as strangers. Despite her love for Mark, she'd never quite forgotten Tony. ‘And I'm glad to see you, Tony. I've wondered how you were getting on.'

‘I heard you had twins,' Tony's brow furrowed. ‘I understand he died… the father…'

‘Mark's ship was sunk and he was posted missing in action.'

‘I'm sorry, Beth.'

‘Yes, me too,' she said, ‘but I'm lucky to have the twins. Matt looks like his father, I think…'

‘Oh…' Tony seemed lost for words. ‘It can't be easy living at home?'

‘My mother doesn't mind, but my father thought I'd shamed him. He's letting me stay for the moment, but I shall have to leave one day…'

He hesitated then, ‘Well, I'd better go. Got a lot of friends to catch up with – just wanted to know you were all right.'

‘Glad you came, Tony…'

He walked off down the road. Beth watched him, wondering why her throat caught and her eyes pricked with sudden tears. What was there to cry about, just because Tony had come to see her?

She went into the house, taking her jacket off and hanging it on the hallstand. Halfway up the stairs, she saw Lizzie at the top, obviously preparing to come down.

‘Should you be up yet? It's only been a few days.'

‘I can't stay here forever. I want to go home and settle in,' Lizzie said. ‘Aunt Miriam wants me to stay there, but I shan't. I need to be independent…'

‘There are a few letters for you,' Beth said. ‘One of them looks official – I expect it's from the RAF… and one smells of perfume.'

‘Yes, from the RAF,' Lizzie said as she saw the heading and began to read it. ‘It doesn't say anything about when I can have the funeral. I'm having a cremation, because I don't want Uncle Bertie to hear things –I told him it was an accident, as you suggested.' Lizzie sniffed the perfumed letter and smiled. She opened the envelope and discovered a cheque from Mrs Mabel Carmichael, and a note apologising. She would be in shortly to purchase more hats and hoped Lizzie would forgive her. ‘That's one piece of good news at least.' She showed Beth the letter.

‘Yes, but she got you into trouble, didn't she?' Beth pointed out, then, looking thoughtful,. ‘I hope that my advice to you about telling Mr Oliver it was an accident doesn't cause trouble. .'

‘I only wanted to spare him and Aunt Miriam pain,' Lizzie said. ‘I see no reason for him to be angry.'

‘He's a funny sort,' Beth said and frowned as she changed the subject, ‘Bernie sent me another letter to tell me my job will be there for me when I'm ready to return.'

‘Bernie sounds really nice, Beth?'

‘I suppose he is. I keep thinking and wondering if I should accept his offer of marriage or try to get my own place.' She sighed, then, ‘I just saw Tony. He's home on leave and then he's off overseas somewhere.'

‘What did he want?'

‘He just came to see how I was before he was posted abroad.'

‘How did that make you feel?'

‘I'm not sure – a little sad perhaps? I don't like to think of him perhaps being hurt…'

‘No, of course not, but I'm afraid a lot of our men are in the thick of it somewhere,' Lizzie said. ‘It was strange, as if the war wasn't really happening for ages, but it certainly is now…'

‘It's really happening now,' Beth agreed. She glanced at Lizzie's pale face as she took her letters. ‘Are you sure you're ready for this?'

‘I think I can manage. I shan't go home today but by tomorrow or the following day.'

Lizzie pushed away the feeling of loneliness that overcame her as she contemplated returning to the flat where she'd hoped to be so happy with Harry Oliver. Her dreams had been shattered, but there was no point in looking back. She just had to get on the best she could.

*

‘I shall feel all at sea once you've both gone,' Mrs Court said looking wistful as the three women sat drinking tea that afternoon. ‘I do understand why you feel you ought to get home, Lizzie – but you don't have to go yet, Beth.'

‘I think I ought to stand on my own two feet,' Beth smiled at her mother lovingly. ‘It doesn't make you redundant, Mum. We'll both need you to babysit sometimes.'