with Meryl at her side towards the jeep. Hari hugged her, realizing Jessie was right, Meryl was filling out, growing up.
‘Bye, little sis. Be good, be careful . . . be safe.’ She climbed in the jeep and drove away. In the mirror she could see Meryl’s face was just a pale unfamiliar blur in the growing darkness. Suddenly she was painfully, very painfully sad.
Fourteen
The house was plain, set back from the road, away from the other small cottages. Kate took a deep breath and glanced at Doreen. ‘This is it then?’
Doreen nodded. ‘Moira knows we’re coming, she’ll be ready – it won’t take long.’
Moira was friendly. She had a cup of tea ready and a few dry-looking biscuits on a plate, spaced out to look more plentiful and resting on a neat doily. A good try considering it was wartime.
Kate’s mouth was dry and her stomach was bunched up into a tight ball as if to protect the barely formed child within her. Doreen spoke.
‘This is a serious thing, mind; slipping out a baby isn’t a picnic. I just want you to know that.’ She sighed. ‘But a lot of girls are coming to me now so you’re not alone. I’m a good midwife, I’m clean as I can be and I’ll look after you when it’s over. Your chap dead is he?’
Kate nodded. ‘I think so, he’s been reported missing, that’s all I really know.’
‘Do you care about him?’
Kate nodded miserably. She just wanted to get on with it before she screamed out her fear and revulsion at what she was about to do. She was from good Irish stock and her mammy would be horrified if she knew what Kate was doing. But then she would be equally horrified to learn Kate was having a baby in the first place.
Moira took her cup away and led the way into a little lean-to at the back of the house. There was what looked like a doctor’s examination table, long and narrow and spread with a white sheet that was spotlessly clean. A metal bowl stood at the side and a wicked-looking scalpel that glinted in the overhead gas light.
Kate got on to the table and lay back. Moira lifted her skirt and pressed her knees apart. ‘You’ll have to take your underwear off, you silly girl.’
Kate sat bolt upright. ‘I can’t go on with it.’ She scrambled down from the table, pulling her skirt into place. ‘I’m sorry to waste your time. I’ll pay you, of course.’
Moira sighed and shook her head. ‘No need, I was half expecting this. You’re just not the sort. The Good Lord only knows how you’ll manage but manage you will I’m sure.’
Moira rested her hand on Kate’s shoulder. ‘Look, let me make you a cup of tea and we can talk, perhaps that will help.’
Kate sat on the shabby, comfortable sofa in the parlour of Moira’s house and looked at the faded wallpaper. It was once grand in Regency stripes, now the stripes had faded to indistinct beige. She felt numb.
‘Want to tell me about it?’ Moira handed her a cup of tea and Kate was glad of the hot liquid pouring down her dry throat.
‘Same old thing – fell in love, let him have his way – when I fell for the baby it was all too late.’ Suddenly she felt the urge to confess.
‘He wasn’t the first. I thought I was helping the boys face the thought of war and death but all I was doing was getting myself a bad reputation. When Eddie, my boyfriend, found out, he lost all his faith in me and do you wonder?’
‘It will never change. I expect when women got the vote they thought the world would be theirs, that they would be equal to men in all ways, but though a man will take a woman with very little thought for her reputation, when he marries, the hypocrite wants a virgin.’
Kate knew Eddie wasn’t like that. He had loved her, he had respected her, what would he think of what she was doing now? At last, beaten, she left the midwife’s house.
When she met Doreen outside, she shook her head. ‘I didn’t have it done, I couldn’t.’
‘Oh, Kate –’ Doreen sounded exasperated –
‘Bye, little sis. Be good, be careful . . . be safe.’ She climbed in the jeep and drove away. In the mirror she could see Meryl’s face was just a pale unfamiliar blur in the growing darkness. Suddenly she was painfully, very painfully sad.
Fourteen
The house was plain, set back from the road, away from the other small cottages. Kate took a deep breath and glanced at Doreen. ‘This is it then?’
Doreen nodded. ‘Moira knows we’re coming, she’ll be ready – it won’t take long.’
Moira was friendly. She had a cup of tea ready and a few dry-looking biscuits on a plate, spaced out to look more plentiful and resting on a neat doily. A good try considering it was wartime.
Kate’s mouth was dry and her stomach was bunched up into a tight ball as if to protect the barely formed child within her. Doreen spoke.
‘This is a serious thing, mind; slipping out a baby isn’t a picnic. I just want you to know that.’ She sighed. ‘But a lot of girls are coming to me now so you’re not alone. I’m a good midwife, I’m clean as I can be and I’ll look after you when it’s over. Your chap dead is he?’
Kate nodded. ‘I think so, he’s been reported missing, that’s all I really know.’
‘Do you care about him?’
Kate nodded miserably. She just wanted to get on with it before she screamed out her fear and revulsion at what she was about to do. She was from good Irish stock and her mammy would be horrified if she knew what Kate was doing. But then she would be equally horrified to learn Kate was having a baby in the first place.
Moira took her cup away and led the way into a little lean-to at the back of the house. There was what looked like a doctor’s examination table, long and narrow and spread with a white sheet that was spotlessly clean. A metal bowl stood at the side and a wicked-looking scalpel that glinted in the overhead gas light.
Kate got on to the table and lay back. Moira lifted her skirt and pressed her knees apart. ‘You’ll have to take your underwear off, you silly girl.’
Kate sat bolt upright. ‘I can’t go on with it.’ She scrambled down from the table, pulling her skirt into place. ‘I’m sorry to waste your time. I’ll pay you, of course.’
Moira sighed and shook her head. ‘No need, I was half expecting this. You’re just not the sort. The Good Lord only knows how you’ll manage but manage you will I’m sure.’
Moira rested her hand on Kate’s shoulder. ‘Look, let me make you a cup of tea and we can talk, perhaps that will help.’
Kate sat on the shabby, comfortable sofa in the parlour of Moira’s house and looked at the faded wallpaper. It was once grand in Regency stripes, now the stripes had faded to indistinct beige. She felt numb.
‘Want to tell me about it?’ Moira handed her a cup of tea and Kate was glad of the hot liquid pouring down her dry throat.
‘Same old thing – fell in love, let him have his way – when I fell for the baby it was all too late.’ Suddenly she felt the urge to confess.
‘He wasn’t the first. I thought I was helping the boys face the thought of war and death but all I was doing was getting myself a bad reputation. When Eddie, my boyfriend, found out, he lost all his faith in me and do you wonder?’
‘It will never change. I expect when women got the vote they thought the world would be theirs, that they would be equal to men in all ways, but though a man will take a woman with very little thought for her reputation, when he marries, the hypocrite wants a virgin.’
Kate knew Eddie wasn’t like that. He had loved her, he had respected her, what would he think of what she was doing now? At last, beaten, she left the midwife’s house.
When she met Doreen outside, she shook her head. ‘I didn’t have it done, I couldn’t.’
‘Oh, Kate –’ Doreen sounded exasperated –
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