They took my baby away to spend the night in the nursery. It was the rule. They took her away every night even when I was back in the end bed on the ward.

‘But what if she wakes up hungry in the night?’ I protested.

‘If she really seems distressed, the nurse on night duty will give her a feed,’ said Sister Fisher.

‘But I’m feeding her!’

‘I know you are. You’re a good girl,’ said Sister Fisher approvingly. ‘Some of you young mothers won’t even give breastfeeding a try even though it’s the best way to give your baby a good start in life. They just fuss about their figures!’

I had hardly any figure to begin with, so I didn’t care. I was desperate to give her a good start. I loved her with painful intensity. My little Kathleen.

I didn’t really like the name that much but I consoled myself by shortening it to Kathy, and I could always pretend she was named after Katherine Mansfield. Kathleen was Mum’s name. I thought it might help her soften towards her granddaughter. When she saw her she’d not be able to help falling in love with her. She was the most beautiful little baby in the world.

I’d thought Belinda’s Peter a lovely-looking child, but he seemed very pink and commonplace beside Kathleen. She was small and incredibly delicate, pale as porcelain with just a faint flush to her cheeks. Her eyes were an incredible blue when she looked up at me. The nurses said she couldn’t focus properly yet so all she could see was a blur. I was certain they were talking nonsense. She looked directly back at me as I gazed down on her. Her hair was incredibly soft, like dandelion fluff, and her mouth was a perfect Cupid’s bow. She didn’t need to be shown how to feed. She fastened onto me and sucked strongly. It hurt rather, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind anything about her, not even the little stalk where her belly button would be. I didn’t even mind changing her nappies, though I had thought this would be the part I’d hate. I loved bathing her too, cradling her head with one hand and gently soaping her with the other. She quivered at first when I slowly lowered her into the warm water, but when she realized I still had firm hold of her she seemed to like it, kicking her tiny legs.

‘Your baby’s going to be a little swimmer,’ said the lady in the bed next to me. ‘You’ll have to get her a paddling pool when she’s a bit bigger.’ Then she broke off, remembering my circumstances. ‘Oh, sorry, dear. You won’t have her that long, will you?’

‘Oh yes, I will,’ I said determinedly. ‘I’m keeping her. I’m going back home to Mum and Dad.’

I’d written to them the day after Kathleen was born, using Mrs Chambers’ notepaper and stamps.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I had a little daughter last night, weighing 6lbs. She is absolutely beautiful. Can you come and see us at the hospital? I am calling her Kathleen. It hurt really badly giving birth and I had to have four stitches but I don’t care, it was worth it.

Love from Laura xx

I wrote to Moira too.

Dear Moira,

I had a baby girl last night and she is beautiful, truly. I hope Mum will let me keep her. You must come round straight away when I get home. I know you’re a bit sick of babies but you will like Kathleen, I promise. Maybe you could be her godmother?

Love from Laura xx

I didn’t bother pretending to write to Daniel. Kathleen didn’t need a father, not even an imaginary one. She had me, and that was all she needed.

I couldn’t understand the other mothers on the ward. They all loved their babies, I suppose, but some gave a sigh of relief when they were wheeled away to the night nurseries and said, ‘Peace at last!’ I couldn’t bear it – it was as if half of me was being dragged away. I couldn’t sleep without her by my side, and lay awake most nights, scared she might be missing me too and wailing frantically. The night nurse spotted me tossing and turning and saw the dark circles under my eyes in the morning.

They started giving me a sleeping pill at night, but I always tucked it in the side of my mouth and spat it out when I had the chance. I didn’t want to be drugged into a stupor. I wanted to savour every moment, imagining my daughter and all the things we would do together as she grew up.

I whispered all this to Kathy when she was brought to me at six o’clock for her first feed, and she concentrated hard as she sucked, taking it all in. I tended her lovingly all day long, not even wanting to put her back in her cot at mealtimes. Sister Fisher and the nurses kept telling me off, saying I was spoiling her, and she’d never get into a proper routine and want to be cuddled all the time.

‘Well, so what? I want to cuddle her,’ I said.

Nurse Carol was the only one who understood. ‘I’d want to cuddle her too,’ she whispered to me. ‘She’s gorgeous!’

Mrs Matthews in the next bed sniffed. Her little boy Stanley was a big bruiser of ten pounds, who squealed like a stuck pig half the time.

‘I suppose you have to make the most of her,’ she said to me, ‘seeing as you won’t have her for more than a few weeks.’

I managed to keep smiling. ‘Oh no, I’m keeping her. It’s all arranged,’ I said.

Mrs Matthews sniffed. It was clear she didn’t believe me. I heard her talking about me to her husband when he came to visit her at three, with a bunch of grapes already half eaten.

‘See that kid in the next bed? Barely into her teens! Disgusting, isn’t it, and yet she acts like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She’s a bit doolally if you ask me. Carries on about keeping the baby!’

I cupped my hand over Kathy’s tiny ear so she wouldn’t hear such spiteful whispers. I rocked her gently, holding her against my breast. Her little kitten mouth opened expectantly and I felt myself throbbing, wanting to give her a top-up feed.

Some of the mothers had such difficulty feeding their babies, complaining that it hurt or they didn’t have enough milk or they had too much. One or two needed the dreaded breast pump. Some demanded bottles right from the start, and had to be bound and take special pills to stop their milk coming in.

Kathy and I managed perfectly. Of course, it could be a bit sore at times. All of me felt sore, especially my poor saggy stomach and the stitched part, but I didn’t mind too much. It was a reminder that I was a grown-up now, Kathy’s mother.

The only time I was on edge was after the two o’clock feed. Kathy tended to fuss a little then, and want to doze and take her time feeding, while I wanted her to hurry up so I could change her nappy again and give her an extra shake of talcum so I could make sure she was her own perfect, powdery little self, ready to meet her namesake grandma.

I kept expecting Mum and Dad, my heart beating hard every time the bell went for visiting hour, but they didn’t come, day after day. They must have got my letter. I’d sent it at the same time as Moira’s, and she had already written back. She’d actually gone out and bought (or maybe nicked) a proper baby card, with a cute baby in a pink cot and Congratulations on your new baby girl in gold lettering on the front.

She’d written inside:

Dear Laura,

Congratulations!!! I would absolutely love to be her godmother!!!

I do hope you come back here, I miss you so.

Lots of love and xxx from Moira

I proudly put it on my bedside locker beside my water jug and glass and my sponge bag. The other mothers had heaps of cards and vases of flowers and bowls of fruit and boxes of Cadbury’s Milk and Black Magic. I had a few chocolates on a saucer myself. Grateful dads often gave the nurses huge boxes of chocolates as thank-you presents, and Carol had given me some of her share. I only ate one, wanting to show the rest of the ward that I had some too.

But then on Sunday, when I’d almost given up hope, Mum came into the ward wearing her best turquoise coat (C&A’s sale two years ago) and the hat she’d made herself out of black feathers when she had to go to a funeral. The strong turquoise blue drained her face and she looked as if she had a crow on her head. I saw hateful Mrs Matthews smirking and I felt a sudden powerful wave of protective love.

‘Mum!’ I called, as she looked up and down the ward uncertainly.

She came scurrying down the long ward towards me, her wicker shopping basket on her arm.

‘It’s Grandma, Kathy darling!’ I whispered. ‘And it looks like she’s brought us presents!’

I cradled Kathy close, and she looked up with her beautiful blue eyes, wide awake now, but perfectly composed. She was by far the prettiest baby in the ward – but Mum didn’t even give her a glance.

‘Don’t shout out like that, Laura, you’ll show us up,’ said Mum breathlessly. She leaned over Kathy to give me a quick peck on the cheek. ‘How are you, dear? Was it really awful? I was so worried. You’re still so young, it seems dreadful they made you go through it. Why didn’t they knock you out altogether and give you an op to get it out?’

‘I didn’t think I had any choice,’ I said. ‘Look at your little granddaughter, Mum! Isn’t she perfect?’ I dandled Kathy in the air, and she kicked her tiny legs as if she was ready to run across the bed.

‘Don’t hold it up like that, Laura!’ said Mum, sitting gingerly on the end of the bed, as far away as she could get.

‘She’s not an it! She’s my little girl, and I’ve called her Kathleen after you, Mum!’ I said. ‘Why don’t you hold her? You love babies!’ I said.

‘Look, it’s being sick! I told you not to shake it about like that,’ said Mum.

I cuddled Kathy close again. She’d just brought up a tiny drop of milk, that was all. I quickly wiped her mouth with the edge of her long nightgown.

‘Here, I’ve brought you some hankies,’ said Mum. ‘And a bottle of shampoo. Just as well, your hair’s gone very lank. And lip salve in case your lips get chapped. I thought about chocolates, but you don’t want to get spots, so I’ve brought you bananas – they’ll last longer than grapes.’ She kept delving in her basket and bringing out more stuff, like a conjurer with a trick top hat. She hadn’t bought anything at all for Kathleen, not even a bib or a bootee. I thought of the elaborate little outfits she’d made for my long-lost siblings, and I felt my eyes welling up.

‘What’s the matter? Don’t look like that, when I’ve come all this way to see you,’ said Mum, patting my hand awkwardly, careful not to touch Kathleen even with her fingertips.

‘What about Dad?’ I mumbled. ‘Doesn’t he want to come and see his granddaughter?’

‘Please don’t keep on with this granddaughter lark, Laura. It just makes it more painful,’ said Mum. ‘And you shouldn’t be cuddling it like that, you’ll just get attached.’

‘I am attached! She’s my baby!’ I declared.

‘Ssh! There’s no need to shout. Folk will hear. It’s cruel, putting you in a ward like this with proper mothers. They’ll all be looking down on you,’ said Mum.

‘I’m a proper mother! Stop being so horrible. And where’s Dad?’ I said.

‘He couldn’t face it. He’d sooner just put it out of his mind,’ said Mum. ‘He’ll come round when you come home.’

‘With Kathleen.’

‘Please don’t start that. It’s not a possibility. I don’t know how you can ask it. How could we possibly keep it a secret? Don’t look at me like that. I’ve lain awake half the night trying to get my head around it. We’d be the talk of the neighbourhood. I’m not having people pointing and gossiping and sneering. I’ve even wondered about us moving away and me taking on the child—’

‘Yes?’ I said desperately.

‘But we can’t do it. We simply couldn’t afford it, not at the moment. We could put our name down for a council house, but there’s a huge waiting list, so we’d be stuck in the prefabs for years. Dad couldn’t move further away, not with his job. He’d have to go back on the lorries, and he hated that. I’d have to give up my job, and it means a lot to me. And I’m not just being selfish – I won’t let you destroy your own life. You were doing so well, we were so proud of you. But I’ve done my best to fix it with the Grammar, told them you were seriously ill and would be away for months. They said they’d keep a place for you, though you’ll have to work hard to catch up. You can carry on as if nothing has happened, get a good job when you’ve got your exams, and in time you’ll find a nice man and settle down and you’ll have your babies then.’ Mum ran out of breath.

‘I’ve got a baby now. You can call her it all the time and pretend she isn’t even here, but she is, Mum. I love her. I’m not giving her up to anyone else. Look, will you just hold her, just for a minute,’ I said, and I thrust Kathleen at her.

‘Stop that! I don’t want to hold it!’ Mum protested. She held Kathy awkwardly, away from her chest, as if she was a hot dinner plate. Kathy felt frightened and her face crumpled. ‘There, it doesn’t like it,’ said Mum, but her hands seemed to act of their own accord and she couldn’t help cradling her.

‘There,’ I said.

Mum sighed and peered down at her, looking at her properly. ‘She looks the spit of you, Laura,’ she whispered.

‘She’s much prettier than I ever was,’ I said. ‘And she’s so good, Mum. She barely cries. You’d hardly know she was there. I could have her in my room, and I’d get up in the night to her. You and Dad wouldn’t be disturbed. We needn’t even go out much if you’re so worried about the neighbours. I could get little jobs running errands, working down the market, anything just so I could pay my way until I’m old enough to move out and get a proper job. I think the jam factory’s got a proper nursery—’

‘You’re not working in the jam factory!’ Mum burst out. ‘You haven’t got a clue what it’s like to do factory work. I didn’t have the chance of a good education and I had to work in a factory and it was dreadful, dirty and noisy and your back aches and your fingers swell and you’re so tired you can’t think straight. You don’t know nothing about it, you stupid little madam.’

I stared at her, shocked. I’d never seen her so het up, not even when I had to admit I was going to have a baby. I was sure half the ward had heard. I’d vaguely known Mum had worked in some factory, but she’d never really said what it was like. Kathy seemed shocked at the outburst too, and started wailing. Mum rocked her automatically, maybe not realizing what she was doing.

‘I’m sorry, Mum. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t want to work in a factory – but I’ll do anything so I can keep little Kathleen. She’s part of me, just like I’m part of you, can’t you see that?’ I said softly.

‘No, I can’t. If you’re telling us the truth, her father was just some fly-by-night and you weren’t even going out together,’ Mum said, much quieter now. ‘I can’t see why you want to keep his baby when he means nothing to you. Especially when it would ruin your life.’

‘He’s got nothing to do with Kathleen. My life would be ruined if I couldn’t keep her,’ I retorted.

‘Why did you have to call her Kathleen anyway? I’ve always hated my name. Kafleeeen!’ Mum said, in a silly accent. She looked down at my Kathleen and glared at her now.

‘Don’t look at her like that! What’s the matter with you? Look at all the other grannies in the room – they’re all thrilled,’ I said.

‘I daresay I’d be thrilled if you were ten years older and decently married, but you’re not. You’ve got to stop all this nonsense, Laura. You can’t possibly keep this baby. We’re not having it. And you’re underage and you’ve no way of supporting the two of you. Your little Kathleen will have to go into care. She’ll be brought up in a home without a proper mum or dad, is that what you want?’

‘No, of course it isn’t!’

‘Well, that’s what will happen, unless you sign all the papers to have her adopted. That’s what you’ve got to do. It’ll be best for her. She’ll get her own lovely new parents and they’ll bring her up properly in a grand house and she’ll get everything she wants and go to a good school, like your pal Nina,’ said Mum. ‘You’ll sign them papers if you really love her.’

‘You’re just saying all that stuff Mrs Jeffries says. And Miss Andrews. Do you know what the girls at Heathcote House think? They get paid a whacking great fee by the adoption agency, that’s what,’ I said.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Mum. ‘I’m walking straight out again if you go on like this.’

‘Good. I don’t care,’ I said childishly.

We sat in silence, avoiding eye contact. Mum didn’t go, though she’d picked up her empty basket. I didn’t beg her to stay. I busied myself with Kathy, winding her little fluffy curls round my finger, tucking her up more securely in her shawl, murmuring little loving words to her.

‘Stop this silly sulking,’ Mum said at last. ‘You’re not going to get your own way. We all know best, your dad and I, and Mrs Jeffries and Miss Andrews. You have to get it adopted.’

‘I’m not going to,’ I said through gritted teeth.

‘Well, you’ll have to be taken into care too, because we’re not having you home,’ said Mum.

I wasn’t sure she really meant it. If I turned up on the doorstep with Kathy in my arms they surely wouldn’t turn me away, as if we were acting out some Victorian melodrama. I saw myself and Kathy trudging through the snowy streets, shivering in some dank doorway, freezing to death overnight – even though it was nearly summertime.

‘Don’t you love me any more?’ I whispered.

‘Yes, I do love you, enough to want to stop you ruining your life. I think it’s ridiculous, letting you cuddle that baby and fuss it. I daresay they’ve made you feed it yourself too,’ Mum carried on relentlessly.

‘I want to feed her!’ I said.

‘They should have taken her away at birth, not even let you see it. That would be the humane way, before you started bonding. At the very least they should take it when you leave the hospital. That Miss Andrews says you’ve got to spend six weeks more at Heathcote House. She came out with all this malarkey about having to wait that long before you can sign the adoption papers – but I think that’s plain stupid. It just makes it all the harder. You need to get this nonsense about keeping it straight out of your head. You’ve always been a daydreamer, imagining this and that. But this is real life, Laura, and you’ve got to face facts. Why won’t you listen to me?’ Mum’s voice broke and she put her hand over her face to hide the fact that she’d started to cry.

She looked so sad then, her black feather hat a little crooked now. I wanted to straighten it for her and wipe her eyes and tell her that I really was listening. I loved her and I wanted to try to please her. But I couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t give my baby away.

I couldn’t get the words out, and Mum had finally finished with talking. We sat there, both of us silent, while Kathy started fretting softly, sensing something was seriously wrong. Mum cleared her throat several times as if she was about to speak, but changed her mind. Eventually she blew her nose fiercely and looked at her watch.

‘Well, I’d better be going. I don’t want to miss my train, and it’s a ten-minute walk to the station and I’m in my good shoes,’ she said.

‘So what’s going to happen?’ I asked.

‘Well, it’s up to you, isn’t it?’ said Mum.

She stood up and hesitated. I thought for a moment she was going to walk straight out, but then she bent and gave me a quick peck on my cheek, the feathers tickling. She held out her hand and touched Kathy’s tiny pink hand. I willed her to open her fist and grip Mum’s finger. She could do it, she’d done it several times to me, and it always made my stomach stir with love – but Kathy didn’t move.

Mum walked off with her empty basket, the first visitor to leave.

‘You all right, dear?’ said Mrs Matthews. ‘That visit didn’t sound as if it went very well.’

I pretended I hadn’t heard and busied myself with my baby. She didn’t say any more, sitting there with her hopeless husband, but when he’d gone, giving her a sudden slobbery kiss, she held her grapes out towards me.

‘Want one? His Lordship’s been picking at them already, but he’s left some nice juicy ones,’ she said.

I shook my head and murmured, ‘No thank you.’

‘Oh well. Suit yourself,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you have one of those nice bananas your mother’s left you?’

I’d always loved bananas, but I wouldn’t touch this bunch. I left them for days on the top of my locker until they went black and Nurse Carol took them away.

She was still lovely to me. She found me crying behind my curtain, and she came and sat close beside me and held my hand. ‘Don’t worry. Sister Michaels says lots of mums feel weepy after they’ve given birth. They call it the baby blues. It’s hormones,’ she said.

‘It isn’t just hormones,’ I sobbed. ‘I want to keep Kathy and no one will let me!’

‘I think that’s a crying shame,’ she said. ‘You might be young but I think you’re a brilliant mother, better than any of the other women on the ward. If I were one of the babies, you’re definitely the mum I’d choose.’

‘My own mum says I can’t come home unless I give her up,’ I wept.

‘I’m sure she’s just saying that,’ said Carol.

‘No, she isn’t. She really means it. I so hoped she’d change her mind, especially as I’ve named Kathy after her, but she just said she’d never liked her name anyway. I don’t really like Kathleen either. I wish I hadn’t called her that now!’ I said.

‘Maybe you can change it to something else,’ said Carol.

‘Maybe I’ll call her Carol now!’ I said.

‘Oh, you lovely thing!’ said Carol, giving my hand a squeeze.

I tried calling my baby Carol all the next day, but it didn’t really work. She’d become Kathy, and it just didn’t seem right calling her anything else.

I tried to make the most of my time at the hospital, knowing I wouldn’t be able to cuddle Kathy all day at Heathcote House as she’d be up in the nursery watched over by Nurse March most of the time. I couldn’t just relax and enjoy her though. I treasured every moment, but the dread of losing her was forever there.

I cried quite a lot, I just couldn’t help it.

‘You’re starting to get on my nerves, all that blubbing,’ said Mrs Matthews, but when her husband turned up on her tenth day to take her home she gave me a little pile of white woollies.

‘Here, you,’ she said. ‘My sister sent these for my little boy and they’re all size zero for a new-born baby. They’d never go round him! You take them for your little girl.’

‘Are you sure? That’s so kind!’ I said, starting to cry again.

‘Oh Gawd, now I’ve set you off!’ she said. ‘You cheer up, chicken. I don’t get that mother of yours. If you were my daughter, I’d give you a good slapping for shaming us, but I’d still let you and the baby stay at home. You’re the same flesh and blood, after all.’

I thought I’d be going back to Heathcote House on my own tenth day in a hospital car, but Mrs Jeffries turned up to collect me.

‘I had to come and see you to check on everything and start arrangements, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone,’ she said brightly, when we were in her car. ‘How are you, Laura? You look a bit washed out. It’s a bit of an ordeal having a baby so young, isn’t it? Sister Michaels said the birth went well though.’ She peered at Kathy in my arms. ‘You’ve got a fine healthy girl. That’s good, isn’t it? And you’re feeding her yourself? That’s the ticket, give her a good start in life. It’s well worth it, though of course you’ll have to start weaning her the week before you go home.’

I sniffed and didn’t reply.

‘Sister says you’ve been a bit weepy the last few days,’ she said.

I stared at her. Was she crazy? Of course I was weepy! It looked like I’d lost my one chance of keeping Kathy.

‘I know you’d set your heart on keeping your baby. I do understand. I’ve seen so many of my girls breaking their hearts – but given time this sadness will fade away. You’re a sensible girl at heart, even though you’ve a lamentably lurid taste in literature, according to Miss Andrews! Deep down I think you’ve always known what’s best for your child. And I have some exciting news for you. The agency has put me in touch with a wonderful couple, both of them teachers; well, he’s actually a headmaster now. They’re both marvellous with children – but they always longed for a child of their own. So they decided to adopt – and now they have a lovely little boy, four years old, bright as a button, but very gentle. They’d love him to have a baby sister. Do you see where I’m going, Laura?’ She glanced at me.

Of course I saw where she was going. But they weren’t going to steal my Kathy!

‘Oh dear, I can see what you’re thinking, just from the expression on your face,’ said Mrs Jeffries. ‘Why don’t you have a little think about it from Kathleen’s point of view. Which would she prefer? Wouldn’t she want to grow up in a happy family with a proper daddy and a loving older brother?’

I shut my eyes. I pictured this family. I imagined a loving dad with Kathy on his lap, cuddling her close while reading her a story. And the brother might be kind and gentle like Daniel, showing Kathy how to build with bricks, crayoning her a picture, giving her a piggyback. I saw them growing older, Kathy top of the class at her grammar school, and good at sports too, because her brother had been giving her tennis lessons …

I felt a tear slide down my cheek, even though my eyes were still tightly shut.

‘Ah!’ said Mrs Jeffries softly. ‘Think about it, Laura.’

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. This family seemed to surround me, permanent companions. They were there when I got back to Heathcote House and all the girls crowded round me, keen to see my baby. I showed Kathy off proudly and they all squealed and smiled, saying I was so lucky, she was the cutest little girl they’d ever seen. The phantom family nodded and agreed that their little baby was gorgeous. The mother and father glowed with pride, and the little boy sat on the floor and held Kathy very carefully, whispering that she was the best baby sister in the world.

They were there when I took Kathy up to the nursery and Nurse March kissed her little hands and feet and said, ‘My, she’s a little poppet, Laura. I could eat her up!’

The family looked disconcerted, as if they thought Nurse March might actually bite off one of her tiny toes. ‘I won’t have to leave you with an eccentric old nurse,’ the faceless mother said. ‘I’ll look after you all the time, Kathy. My husband earns enough to keep us all in comfort. You’ll be so much better off with us.’

I couldn’t bear leaving Kathy up in the nursery, even though she was only one floor away. I kept thinking I could hear her wailing, wanting me. The family gathered round me, telling me that I needn’t worry any more. ‘I’ll be her mother now,’ the faceless one said. ‘I’ll never leave her crying. She’ll forget all about you soon.’ She patted my shoulder, trying to comfort me.

‘Go away!’ I sobbed. Then I realized I wasn’t imagining it. Sarah was standing beside my bed.

‘I just wanted to see if you’re all right,’ she whispered.

‘Well, I’m not. Obviously,’ I mumbled, blowing my nose fiercely on one of Mum’s handkerchiefs.

‘Don’t be like that, Laura. I’m your friend!’ Sarah insisted. ‘It’s awful seeing you so unhappy.’

‘You wait till you have your baby,’ I said. ‘Then you’ll see what it’s like.’

‘I expect I will,’ said Sarah. ‘I’m sure I’ll want to keep mine too. I’ve prayed about it a lot. But the Lord giveth and then He taketh away.’

‘Then the Lord is heartless!’ I said.

‘I won’t stay if you’re going to blaspheme,’ Sarah said sorrowfully.

‘Good! Clear off then,’ I said.

I regretted it when she went. She’d only been trying to be kind. And as soon as she’d gone the family started up again, telling me again and again that Kathy would be so much happier with them.

I spent as much time as I possibly could in the nursery with my baby, though Nurse March did her best to shoo me away. I had to do housework, I had to go to lessons, but no one stood over me to go for meals, so I skipped them where possible, or just stuffed down a few mouthfuls and then ran back upstairs.

‘Have you gone off my cooking then?’ said Marilyn, catching me as I hurried out the dining room.

‘No, it’s fine. I just need to go up to the nursery,’ I said.

‘No you don’t. Not for a good half-hour.’ Marilyn had hold of me by the wrist and held it up. ‘You’re not eating properly, look, Skinny Minnie.’

‘I wish that was true,’ I said, patting my tummy, which was still pretty big.

‘It’ll go down soon when you have a bit of exercise. All you do is crouch over your baby. You’re getting too attached, Laura,’ she said.

‘Of course I am. I’m keeping her,’ I said defiantly.

‘Come on. You’re a bright girl. You know that isn’t going to happen. Look at your pal Belinda. And poor old Jeannie,’ said Marilyn, shaking her head.

‘Do you know the address of this place she’s in? I’d like to write to her,’ I said.

‘Sorry, I don’t know. I don’t even expect Miss Andrews knows. It’s not really anything to do with us now,’ said Marilyn.

‘And what about Belinda? You must have her full address. I want to write to her too!’ I said. I wondered if I could possibly stay with her, taking Kathy with me. She’d invited me, after all. I knew her parents hadn’t let her keep Peter, but I had to keep one little flicker of hope alive.

‘Sorry,’ Marilyn repeated. ‘We’re not allowed to give out personal information like that. And no one really wants to keep in touch after they’ve left here, no matter what they say. It’s better to put it all behind you and start anew.’

‘You didn’t,’ I said. ‘You stayed here.’

Marilyn flushed. ‘I told you that in confidence! You be quiet!’

‘I don’t understand you. I don’t see how you can bear to be here. It must be a constant reminder of what you went through. And if you were going to be working here all along, I don’t see why you couldn’t keep your own baby. It could have stayed up in the nursery with Nurse March,’ I said. ‘You were a fool to give her up.’ I knew I was being cruel but I couldn’t help it.

‘I did the best thing I could for my child,’ Marilyn said steadily. ‘And I rather think you’re the fool, Laura. You’re brighter than me. You can go away and pass all your exams and get some posh job and do really well for yourself. I didn’t have that option. I did the right thing, I know I did. Miss Andrews says it must be a great comfort to me.’ Marilyn’s voice wavered a little, as if she wasn’t sure now.

I felt truly wicked. Just because I was hurting so much it was hateful of me to try to hurt Marilyn too. I went off to the nursery, ignored Nurse March’s tutting, and lifted Kathy from her cot. She was drowsy with sleep, warm and rosy-cheeked. She rubbed her eyes, frowning, cross to be woken up.

‘Sorry, Baby,’ I whispered. I held her close and she breathed deeply, snuffling into me. Even if she couldn’t see me properly yet, she could smell me, feel me, recognize me. I was her mother. I was the only one she wanted, no matter what they all kept telling me.