And life did go on. Dora wrote back to Sam with her condolences and so did Lily on behalf of herself and Jim. Sam thanked them in his replies and said he was doing OK, but was glad he had his little hardware business to occupy him.
Lily and Jim were occupied as well. They went back and forth to work; they went out for a drink or to the cinema with Gladys and Bill, with Dora babysitting the twins. She also babysat for Beryl and Les’s little boy, Bobby, when the four of them went dancing at the Palais. They’d gone dancing during the war, but it was so different now with no fear of raids and no blackout to stumble through on the way home. Lily had some new (second-hand, but new to her) sandals with stretchy Lurex straps and they sparkled as she and Jim twirled under the glitter ball to the music of Lou Praeger and Glenn Miller.
‘Are you “In the Mood”?’ Jim whispered when they flopped into bed later. Lily was, of course she was. Love, as well as life, went on.
But in the morning she groaned when the alarm went off. She’d had another disturbed night, the sounds and sensations of the evening still playing in her head.
‘It’s all right,’ Jim whispered, pushing her hair off her face to kiss her. ‘It’s for me, not you. I’ve got to get in early to print up the Messenger.’
Jim edited the Marlows staff newsletter, which meant he had to find the content, write the articles, and do everything else as well, including typing it up and turning the handle of the cyclostyle machine himself.
Lily yawned as he set the alarm again, giving her another half hour in bed, but she didn’t go back to sleep and got up feeling sluggish and unrefreshed.
She was still yawning when she trudged up the back stairs at Marlows to the first floor. She’d have to snap out of it before she reached the department, as she’d be in charge. Miss Frobisher had warned her that she’d be spending a lot of the morning on the telephone chasing unfulfilled orders.
But as she pushed through the double doors, Lily stopped in her tracks. The first department you came to was Jim’s – and there was Nancy. She was in the same position that Lily had seen her in on Nancy’s first day back, with her dark head bent over stock sheets next to Miss Frobisher’s blonde one. But this time, there were two dark heads close together over the stock sheets. And the other one was Jim’s.
‘Morning!’ said Lily brightly as she passed. Was it her imagination, or did Nancy quickly move aside to put some distance between her and Jim? And did he look rather furtive?
In the days that followed, she couldn’t help feeling on edge, and found herself watching Jim’s department. When Jim had to lean across Nancy to straighten something in a display, Lily stiffened. When she saw them exchange a smile behind the back of a departing customer, she felt hot anger rise inside her. When Nancy wandered over and asked if she was on early dinner so they could ‘have a gossip’, Lily replied tightly that she was on late dinner that day, and didn’t suggest an alternative. When Jim surprised her with a bunch of flowers, Lily smiled and thanked him, but wondered if they were the product of a guilty conscience. And the more she tried to tell herself there was nothing going on between Nancy and Jim, the more she became convinced that there was.
Finally she could bear it no longer.
‘What do you think?’ she asked Beryl one Sunday afternoon, having confessed her fears. ‘Am I right to be suspicious? Or am I going crazy?’
Beryl was giving Bobby his tea: an egg with soldiers. Children got priority for fresh eggs.
‘Eat it all up, then there’s a treat for afters!’ she told her son, before turning her attention to Lily. ‘Going crazy? I think you are already,’ she said tartly. ‘Jim? Two-timing you? You’ve got two pages glued together, more like! Jim’d never do that!’
‘That’s what I thought, but … OK, maybe not two-timing as such,’ Lily admitted. ‘But forming a – an inappropriate attachment!’ It was a phrase she’d read in the local paper, the Hinton Chronicle, about a man who’d murdered his wife on the basis of one she’d formed – not that Lily was planning murder, or anything like it. ‘Do you think I should ask him about it?’
‘If you want to give him a good laugh, yes!’ Beryl took the egg pan to the sink and started to wash it. ‘Honestly, Lily, listen to yourself. Jim’s not the two-timing kind!’
‘I didn’t think so …’ said Lily miserably. ‘But Nancy’s very attractive. And, to be honest, I don’t feel very attractive myself at the moment.’
‘Well, jealousy isn’t attractive,’ said Beryl wisely. She put the pan to drain, and came back towards Lily, wiping her hands. She scrutinised Lily more closely. ‘But you’re right. You’ve lost your … your bloom.’
‘I know. I can see that in the mirror. And I feel … well, so weary all the time.’
Beryl narrowed her eyes.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘That it’s this silly worry making you tired? You couldn’t be, you know … in the club, could you?’
Lily was so shocked she had to grope for a chair and sit down. Bobby looked up from his egg as the chair scraped over the tiles.
‘Finished!’ he said, smashing the empty shell with his spoon to prove it. ‘What’s my treat, Mum?’
Beryl produced a jelly from the larder and, to cheers from Bobby, she slopped some into a bowl.
‘And as a special treat you can take it next door and eat it,’ she said. ‘Dad’s in there. But don’t you make a mess! And what do you say?’
‘Thank-you-for-my-nice-tea-can-I-get-down-now,’ gabbled Bobby as Beryl took off his bib and he scrambled down.
‘Good lad.’ Beryl opened the door that led into the back room and shooed him through.
‘What have you got there, son?’ Les could be heard saying before Beryl shut it again and sat down in Bobby’s place.
‘Well?’ she asked Lily. ‘Do I take it from your reaction that you could be?’
Lily nodded dumbly.
‘I’m late, I knew that. But thinking about it, it’s about six days now.’
Beryl gave her a knowing look.
‘Let me guess. Not long married … I bet there’s been at least one occasion when you didn’t take precautions.’
Lily nodded again. There’d been at least one.
‘But is this what it feels like?’ she asked. ‘Just sort of … off-colour? I thought you were sick, or felt sick anyway?’
‘Not always,’ said Beryl. ‘You might be one of the lucky ones.’
Lucky? Lily wasn’t sure if that was the word. If it was true, it was amazing, but, but … the timing …
‘Oh Beryl,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what to think!’
‘Well, you’ll have to get it confirmed,’ said Beryl. ‘And then tell Jim the happy news.’
‘Yes,’ said Lily, still stunned. ‘But don’t tell anyone else, Beryl please. Not till I’ve had a chance to get used to the idea myself.’
She walked back from Beryl’s in a trance; it was a good job she knew every paving slab, kerb and junction on the way, and that continued petrol rationing was keeping the traffic down. All evening, Lily was lost in thought, answering her mum’s questions and responding to Jim’s comments automatically, not knowing if she was making any sense. Jim noticed of course, and Dora, but Lily dismissed their concerns, saying she had a headache, and took herself off to bed early.
Beryl had told her she’d be wise to wait a bit longer before asking the doctor for a test, but now Beryl had put the idea into her head, Lily didn’t need it confirmed. She was pregnant. Expecting. Going to have a baby. Lying in bed, she felt her tummy – still completely flat. The idea that there might be a new life beginning to form inside her made her feel very peculiar indeed.
The next few days were dreadful. Lily hated lies, and she might have known that she couldn’t hide it for long. One evening after work, she and Jim were at home on their own. Dora had gone out to an emergency Red Cross meeting about winter clothing for refugees, who were still arriving in droves from Europe, leaving a note to say the cottage pie simply needed putting in the oven. She hoped she’d be back, but they were to get on and eat if she was late; she’d have hers later.
Lily was watching the clock; she was hungry. That was another thing: the mind really was a very powerful influence. Now she was convinced she was pregnant, her appetite had increased: she was definitely eating for two.
Jim came in from outside where he’d been locking up Gert and Daisy, the hens. He washed his hands at the sink.
‘Their bedding needs changing,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to pinch some newspaper out of the salvage.’
Lily didn’t reply. She prodded the bubbling pan of carrots with a fork.
‘Oh hurry up and cook!’ she admonished them, slamming the lid back on and turning the gas up.
‘You’re not right, are you?’ Jim shook drops of water from his hands and started to dry them. ‘You’re not yourself, Lily. And you’re very pale. Like your mum says, if you’re still getting these headaches like the other night, you ought to see the doctor.’
‘I’m fine!’ Lily threw down the fork with a clatter. ‘I wish you’d both stop checking up on me!’
Jim twitched his eyebrows in surprise.
‘I wasn’t trying to start a row,’ he said mildly.
‘I’m not rowing!’ Lily snapped, then sighed. ‘Look, the nights are drawing in, it’s getting to be a miserable time of year and I’m busy at work now we really are down to one first sales and one part-timer—’
‘I don’t understand. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Nancy gone?’
‘Correct!’ cried Lily, frustrated and almost in tears. ‘But no, you don’t understand! Oh … just leave me alone!’
‘OK. As you wish.’ Looking hurt, Jim retreated into the other room. Lily heard him turn on the wireless.
She grasped the edge of the cold china sink and braced her shoulders. She felt as if she was losing her mind. What was she doing, treating Jim like this? Was that what she wanted, to drive him into Nancy’s arms – and when she was carrying his child?
Tears leaked from her eyes. It should have been the most marvellous news in the world. It shouldn’t have been a secret between her and Beryl. It should have been a secret between herself and Jim – their special news, to tell everyone when it was confirmed and to see everyone’s delight – surprise too, maybe, but chiefly delight. But how could Lily feel delighted when, amazing as it was, the timing was so … she had to admit it, so … wrong?
Jim’s words rang in her ears. ‘That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Nancy gone?’ Well, yes – and now, she knew, no! Not if it was for Nancy to work on Jim’s department, close to him, literally, every day, while Lily could only watch from afar, while she was still there at all.
She’d tried telling herself she was being ridiculous, especially after Beryl’s lecture on the subject, but she knew she was watching their every move. Much as she tried to tell herself that Jim and Nancy were colleagues – of course they had to work alongside each other, in close proximity sometimes, moving stock, setting up displays, and of course they had to confer – every fibre of her being screamed when she saw them together. She cursed herself when she remembered how she’d talked Nancy up to Jim in the early days, singing her praises – practically inviting him to like her! And now Lily was having a baby. And instead of it being the most wonderful thing in the world, all that she could think of was that she’d get big and ugly and unattractive and then it would be all exhaustion and nappies and the smell of sour milk – she’d seen it with Gladys and Beryl – and she’d be stuck at home and then it was only natural that Jim would be attracted to gay, slim, vibrant Nancy and … and …
There was a hiss as the carrots boiled over and extinguished the flame. Blinded by tears, Lily snatched off the lid, wrenched the pan off the gas, clattered the colander into the sink and tipped the pan wildly over it. A cloud of steam shot up and she only realised when she felt the hot pain that she’d splashed boiling water onto her wrist.
‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ she cried.
Jim shot back into the kitchen.
‘What is it?’
Lily cradled her hand, the inside of her wrist already shading pink.
‘Scalded myself,’ she whimpered.
Jim turned on the cold tap and shoved her wrist under it.
‘Shh, shh, it’s all right,’ he soothed. ‘Keep it under the water a good five minutes. Then we’ll find some acriflavine cream to put on it – your mum’s bound to have some somewhere.’
Lily sagged against him.
‘I’m sorry, Jim,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
‘What for? My tea’s not ruined – yet!’
‘Oh Lord, the pie! Can you check on that before it burns too?’
‘Keep that wrist under the water!’ Jim did as he was told, then straightened up. ‘It’s fine. Five more minutes, I reckon.’
He put the carrots back in the pan with the lid on to keep warm, then, when he was satisfied Lily had cooled her injury enough, he led her to a chair.
‘Now come on,’ he said. ‘You’re not fobbing me off any longer. Tell me what’s going on.’
So Lily told him.
She told him about her feelings, irrational and impossible as they were, about him and Nancy.
Jim threw back his head and laughed.
‘And that’s what’s been the matter?’ he said. ‘Oh, Lily! I knew you’d been looking over my way a lot, but I thought it was because you couldn’t get enough of me! Look, Nancy’s a nice girl, and good at her job, but I don’t see her as any more than a colleague, I never have and I never would!’ Then he sobered. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’
‘Of course I believe you! I know it was stupid, but I couldn’t help myself. Because there’s something else, Jim.’
‘Don’t tell me, you’ve fallen madly in love with Lance.’
Lance was the junior on Small Household, a gangling youth of fifteen, spotty and still wet behind his sticking-out ears. But the time for joking was past.
‘I’m expecting.’
‘What?’
‘I’m having a baby. We’re having a baby.’ At that moment, the latch on the back gate clicked. Lily put her finger to Jim’s lips, which were parted in amazement. ‘There’s Mum now. Please, not a word to her. It’s not confirmed, but I know, Jim. I just know.’
The back door opened and, all bustle and a blast of air, Dora was on top of them.
‘Hello, both! Ooh, something smells good! I need it, it’s gone that cold out there! You haven’t had yours yet, have you?’ Lily and Jim shook their heads dumbly. ‘Good, let me get my coat off and let’s eat, shall we?’