Ted’s days were slipping back into the old, old routine. He had barely seen Annie. She’d rushed through the station each day, hardly stopping to talk, leaving him confused but still hopeful that she was now free, and if only he could find a decent job, she’d be his. A part of him wanted her to agree to marry him whether or not he had a good job and regardless of what her father wanted – surely if she loved him the way he loved her, she’d put him first and they’d find a way to manage, whatever job he had? But he trusted her to find the right moment to break things off with Bertram and accept him, Ted. If she needed to wait, then he would wait too. Whatever she wanted, he would do. Nothing was more important now than Annie’s happiness.
‘Is there any news?’ he asked her one day, as she hurried through the station. Perhaps he shouldn’t ask her directly, just like that. Perhaps other people would find a gentler way into the conversation, a way of leading a discussion around to what really needed to be talked about, but Ted didn’t have those skills. If he wanted to know a thing, all he could do was ask it outright. And they only had a short time. Annie had arrived only five minutes before her homeward-bound train.
She smiled at him, a worried, distracted kind of smile, he thought, and reached out to touch his sleeve. There were other passengers on the platform, and Fred Wilson was lurking nearby. ‘I-I am still waiting for the right moment to talk to Bertram. There are … other considerations. It’s not easy, dear Ted.’
She was right, but sometimes wasn’t it easier just to face a problem head-on? If it was up to him, he’d have talked to both Bertram and her father at the earliest opportunity, the very day after their glorious night together. ‘I know, but—’ he began, but she held up a hand to interrupt him.
‘It’s our future, Ted. We have to … play our cards right. Especially now that … Ah, look. Here we are, my train is coming. You must wave your flag at it!’ She stepped away from him, towards the platform edge.
The train arrived safely and Ted attended to his duties. When he blew his whistle for it to leave, he saw that Annie was leaning out of a window, her forearms resting on the lowered window. She blew him a kiss as the train puffed away. Her left hand, it was, that threw the kiss towards him. Her left hand, with that diamond and sapphire ring still snugly fitted on her third finger, mocking him as it glittered in the sunshine.
*
How he was supposed to make Annie happy when he never had the chance to talk to her, he didn’t know. He’d been trying to catch her to ask her to stay for supper one evening. Or to come to see him on Saturday afternoon, when he could leave Fred Wilson in charge of the station (although he hated to do that, not quite trusting the boy) and take her out somewhere. Where, and to do what, he didn’t know. For tea, perhaps, at the Lynford Arms hotel. But she said she’d hated that place, when she went there for dinner with Bertram. He’d rather find somewhere that could be special just for them, that wasn’t already sullied by association with her previous beau. Maybe he could take her on a trip to Coombe Regis, where they could stroll along the sea front and buy ice creams as they watched the waves break against the harbour wall. These were the things couples did when they were courting. Perhaps Annie would not give him an answer until he’d taken her out a few times. Perhaps they’d done everything backwards, spending a night together before they’d walked hand in hand along a promenade.
The more he thought about it the more he realised that was what was missing. An outing. A day off. A holiday. He never took a holiday. He was entitled to a day off each week, but he never took it. But this time he would. This weekend. It was four weeks since the night of the storm, and he felt it was time he and Annie spent some proper time together. Time in which they could talk, and enjoy each other’s company, without him having to worry when the next train was due in.
Five minutes was all he needed – five minutes with her to ask her to come to Lynford on Saturday afternoon. If she could catch the 12.45 from Michelhampton, and sit in the second coach, he could jump on when it reached Lynford and join her for the remainder of the journey to Coombe Regis. Fred was capable of running the station for a few hours while he was out. Ted would have to trust him for once.
He had the chance the next morning, as she hurried through the station on her way to the bank. He caught hold of her arm.
‘Annie, wait. Just two minutes. I’ve something to ask you.’
‘Ted, I’ve still no answer for you,’ she said. There was a tightness about her face and worry in her eyes.
‘It’s not that. Something else. Please Annie, wait two minutes.’ He had to go then, and see to the train’s departure, but thankfully she did wait until he had chance to ask her.
‘A day out? Coombe Regis? Oh, I haven’t been there for months! Yes, Ted. That would be lovely. And it would be a good opportunity for us to talk … I’ll see you here at quarter past one on Saturday then.’ She gave him a brief smile and was on her way.
Ted grinned, pleased that they had made a date, but then his face fell. A good opportunity for us to talk, she’d said. What did she mean by that? Was she having second thoughts, deciding that Bertram was her best option after all? Surely not. She loved him, Ted. He had to cling on to that. She no doubt wanted to talk about how and when to break the news to her father at last. He hardly dared to hope, but maybe … the moment would arise, he’d propose properly to her and she’d agree to marry him, by the end of Saturday. He allowed himself a little fantasy in which they became engaged, then another sudden storm blew up stranding her in Lynford with him once again …
*
Saturday eventually arrived. Ted had taken extra care with his appearance; combing and oiling his hair until it shone, brushing every last speck of dust from his uniform, and polishing his shoes to a high shine. The morning dragged slowly, as he went over for the hundredth time the duties that Fred Wilson needed to take over. The boy was, as ever, surly and insolent, uninterested in the work but rudely curious about Ted’s afternoon off.
‘You never takes time off, Mr Morgan. Got a lady friend, have you? That one I saw in your sitting room one day? She’s a looker, all right. Wouldn’t mind stepping out with her meself. Maybe I’ll ask her, shall I? Maybe she’d choose me over you, what would you think to that, eh, Mr Morgan?’
‘Less of your lip, lad. Now then, are you sure you know what you’ve got to do? I shall be back by seven o’clock, and I expect to see everything shipshape.’
‘Shipshape? This is a station, not a boat!’
It was no good – no matter what Ted said or did, the boy never showed him any respect. Well, they wouldn’t be working together for very much longer. The summer was progressing, and the railway would close in September. If not for that, Ted would have been trying to find a way to be rid of the lad.
At last it was time, and Ted was standing on the platform awaiting the arrival of the train from Michelhampton. He was still in his uniform, as it was the only smart outfit he owned, but he had left his stationmaster’s cap inside and was wearing a woollen cap instead. Fred was on duty with flag and whistle. Ted had a momentary pang of worry – what if she wasn’t on the train? What if she’d changed her mind? But everything was well, and she was there, in the second coach as they’d agreed. She was dressed in a loose, pale green frock, with a straw hat trimmed with white flowers. She had on a pair of white cotton gloves, so he could not see whether that accursed ring was still in place or not.
He jumped on the train as soon as it drew to a halt, to be out of Fred Wilson’s prying eyes. ‘Annie. Thank you for coming.’ He took her hands and sat beside her.
She smiled. ‘Did you think I’d stand you up? Of course not. I’m looking forward to not having to share you with the railway timetable.’
She could have him all to herself for the rest of her life, if only she’d say a definite yes to him, Ted thought. And today might be the day that she did so. A bubble of excitement rose up inside him at the thought.
At Coombe Regis they exited the train, walked through the station and out onto the High Street that ran down the hill towards the harbour. Ted caught hold of Annie’s gloved hand. It seemed only natural to walk hand in hand. Here they were, stepping out together. She turned and gave him a half-smile, but left her hand in his.
It was a sunny day, with just a gentle breeze, and a few fluffy white clouds dancing above their heads. Ted wanted to savour every moment.
‘Shall we walk down to the sea?’ he said to Annie. ‘And would you perhaps like an ice cream?’ His nephews and niece always wanted ice cream. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to offer the woman you wanted to marry, but too late, the words were out.
‘I should love an ice cream,’ she replied to his relief. ‘There’s a shop opposite the harbour. We can go there.’
She knew the town better than he did. That was the problem of never taking a day off or going anywhere. Ted felt suddenly embarrassed by how small he’d allowed his world to become. Lynford station and the few shops and businesses in Lynford village. He never went anywhere else. That would all have to change.
Fifteen minutes later, each with an ice-cream cone wrapped in paper, they sat on a bench on the promenade facing out over the pretty little harbour. A couple of seagulls were hopping around by their feet, hoping for some wafer crumbs. This was how it would be when they married, Ted thought. He’d make sure he took his allowed days off, and every weekend they’d go somewhere special and eat ice cream in the sunshine.
Annie finished hers first. She dabbed at her mouth with her handkerchief, and then turned slightly on the bench so that she was facing him. ‘Ted, that was lovely. And now we must talk.’
She took a deep breath as though summoning up the strength to continue. Ted’s heart gave a lurch. He couldn’t bear it if she was having second thoughts. If she told him she wanted to marry Bertram after all – that would be the end, for Ted. He wouldn’t be able to go on, without her.
‘The thing is, dear Ted, my father’s financial situation is so uncertain I cannot rely on any help from him. And so I still dare not say yes to your proposal. Not until I know you have a safe, secure job, and you’re able to keep me. Us.’
‘I’m still trying … I think there’ll be something, possibly in Michelhampton as a porter,’ Ted began, but she held up her hand to silence him.
‘I cannot be a porter’s wife. The salary would not be enough to keep me and … our family.’
‘We wouldn’t need to start a family straight away, would we?’ Ted felt himself blushing. To be sitting here, in public, talking about starting a family made him feel deeply uncomfortable.
‘We would, Ted. We … already have.’ She put a hand on her tummy. ‘Ted, I’m … pregnant. With your child. That night, the storm – God, I never intended this to happen. It’s made everything so difficult.’
‘A baby? My baby?’ He could not believe what he’d heard.
‘Yes. Our baby. Dammit.’ She looked away, and when she turned back to him there were tears in her eyes. Angry tears, he thought, rather than sad ones.
‘I’m going to be a father?’ He’d never thought that would happen. An image flashed through his mind – a tiny infant in his arms, wrapped in a white shawl, its face serene in sleep. Annie by his side, making sure he held the child securely, tucking the shawl around it.
‘Yes. It’s ruined everything.’
‘Ruined?’
‘Oh, Ted. I don’t mean to be harsh. I didn’t want this. I wanted you to get a good job, and then us to marry, and then we could have started a family. God, I wish we could go back to the night of the storm, and … not get so carried away, I suppose.’
He blushed again, at the reference to their night of lovemaking. ‘It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have—’
She put a hand on his arm. ‘You know perfectly well it was more me than you, Ted. Don’t try to be the gentleman and take the blame. But anyway, here we are. A child out of wedlock. The shame of it …’
‘But I must marry you now, before the baby comes! I must marry you immediately, to save your reputation!’
‘No, Ted. There’s no “must” about it.’ Again she sighed, long and deep. ‘I’ve got to work out what’s best for this baby. If I tell Father he might send me away, make me give up the baby and then make me marry Bertram anyway, for the sake of his business.’
‘But if you tell him I will marry you …’
She shook her head sadly. ‘Not if you are without a job. Oh God. The situation is terrible. I … I don’t know what to do. I do want to be with you, Ted, but I can’t see a way forward. If only you had an offer of a good place at a large station … then maybe … but we cannot marry if your income is not enough for us to have a reasonable standard of living.’
‘Have you … told your father?’
‘About the baby? No.’ She sighed. ‘How can I? I’ll have to, sooner or later, but …’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, Ted. The situation is hopeless. If only things were different. If only money didn’t matter. If only it was acceptable for an unmarried woman to have a child.’
‘We’ll find a way. I’ll find a suitable job, I promise. I wish I could help more,’ he whispered, and she smiled. But the smile did not reach her eyes, which glistened with unshed tears.
‘There is nothing you can do, other than get a job. The rest is for me to deal with. Now then, shall we go for a stroll along to the beach?’ She stood up and began walking along the promenade without waiting for an answer.
Ted followed, his mind tormented and confused. He needed Norah. He needed to write in his diary. How could he make sense of all that was happening to him?
*
It was a week after the trip to Coombe Regis when the closure of the railway line was officially announced in the local and national newspapers, along with news that the last day of operation was to be Sunday, 20 September. Ted had a letter from Southern Railway, containing details about the last day and the subsequent closure. Ted’s employment was officially due to end a week after the last day. In that final week he was to oversee emptying the goods sheds, termination of contracts of junior employees – Fred already had a job lined up with a Michelhampton haulage company. From rail to road, for him. Ted was also instructed to empty the station house, vacating it by the end of the month at the latest so that it could be sold.
And still he had no other job. No other job meant no chance with Annie. It meant his child was in danger of being born out of wedlock. Or worse, given up for adoption if Annie’s father sent her away.
Ted had stopped sleeping; instead spending hours tossing and turning, fretting about his future. He’d written a pleading letter once more to the area manager, Mr Hornsby, for help, and in response had received a list of vacancies within Southern Railway. All were for porter jobs, or ticket-office staff in the larger stations. There were still no stationmaster jobs available. He’d thought about trying other railway companies, but did not know who to write to. The idea of moving out of Dorset made him nervous, in any case. He knew nowhere else. If it wasn’t for Annie, he’d have applied for one of the porter jobs and worked his way up again. But he needed a larger salary from the start, to support her and their baby.
Since the announcement of the line’s closure, business had picked up. It was as though everyone wanted to make the most of it while they still could. Every weekend service was full and standing. Some weekday trains were busy too – with people eschewing the bus service for the train, for its last season. As a result, Ted barely saw Annie as she passed through each day, being too busy with other passengers.
As the summer progressed, the line became yet more busy, Ted became yet more stressed about finding a job, and Annie’s figure began to fill out. One Friday afternoon she arrived early for her homeward train, and told Ted that it was her last day at work.
‘I can’t continue at the bank once the baby starts to show,’ she said. ‘It would be too difficult to explain. They won’t allow an unmarried mother to work there anyway. So I have resigned.’
‘I won’t see you anymore, then?’ Ted said, his heart sinking.
‘You can telephone me at my father’s house if you have any news about a job. This is the number.’ She pressed a piece of paper into his hand.
‘May I telephone you to ask you out again? Like our day at Coombe Regis?’
She regarded him for a moment before answering. ‘Only if we are engaged. And that means only if you have a job. My father would not permit me to be seen out with a man if I am pregnant but not engaged.’
‘Have you told him yet? About the baby?’ She must have. How else would she explain her resignation from her job?
But she shook her head. ‘No. I have told him the bank are laying off staff. I still … am frightened, to tell the truth, of what he will do. I can hide it from him a little longer, and maybe … you’ll have a job offer in time …’
She walked away from him then and sat down on a bench on the platform. She took a book from her handbag and opened it to read. Ted watched her, realising this meant she was not interested in talking to him any longer.
He’d write in his journal that evening, he decided. He needed to try to make sense of it all. He needed Norah’s wise words, but who knew when he would be able to see his sister again.