Despite being determined to see Ethel, Constance couldn’t risk going to see her very often, and close to the end of March she was so deeply unhappy that she rarely spoke any more. She did the housework, cooked the meals – though never to Dora’s satisfaction – and there had been little softening in her mother-in-law’s attitude towards her.
She was now seven months pregnant, and had been told by the doctor that everything was coming along nicely. She didn’t want it to come along nicely. She wanted to rip this baby from her body. If she hadn’t been pregnant she wouldn’t have been forced to marry Albie, and every day she desperately sought a way out. She had even considered going to see her father and begging him to allow her to come home, but he’d made it clear that she wouldn’t be welcome there. And so she was trapped, and the only thing that kept her from sinking into despair was her determination to one day escape this drudgery.
Constance twirled a strand of hair as she looked out of the small living room window, hoping to see that the coast was clear. She had seen Penny go out earlier, and if her mother Ivy did the same, she could sneak out and go to see Ethel. She knew that Ivy watched her, ready to report to Dora if she left the house for any length of time. She had liked Ivy, was grateful that the woman had stood up for her, but now she felt like a prisoner, with Ivy her jailer.
She hadn’t seen anyone approaching, so jumped when there was a knock on the front door. Constance wondered who it could be as she went to open it, and was surprised to find a young woman with a pram, smiling at her. ‘Err … hello,’ she said tentatively.
‘Hi, my name is Jill – Jill Black – and I live at number nineteen. I’ve seen that you’re having a baby and I wondered if you could make use of these,’ she said, holding out a bag. ‘My baby is eight months old and he’s outgrown them.’
Constance peeped into the bag to see it full of baby clothes and said, ‘Oh, how kind. Please, do come in.’
‘Blinkin’ ’eck, you’re as posh as I’d heard,’ Jill said without malice as she lifted her baby from the pram.
‘I’m afraid it doesn’t seem to go down well round here.’
‘Yeah, I’ve heard some of the old crones giving you a rough time, and it’s another reason for popping along to see you. I thought you could do with seeing a friendly face in Kibble Street.’
‘I certainly could,’ Constance agreed.
‘I should have come to see you before this, but to be honest I feel a bit awkward. You see, a couple of years ago I went out with Albie – not for long though, just until he found another girl.’
‘There’s no need to feel awkward. From what I’ve heard, a lot of girls have been out with Albie.’
‘Yeah, that’s true,’ Jill said smiling wryly, ‘but to be honest, with me he was a proper gent. Unlike most boys he didn’t try anything. Anyway, enough about Albie. I thought you’d like to know that the old crones have found someone else to gossip about.’
‘I hope that means they’ll leave me alone.’
‘They’re sure to, ’cos they’ve just found out that Penny Nelson is up the duff.’
Constance’s legs nearly collapsed under her but somehow she pulled herself together enough to say, ‘Please, Jill, do take a seat.’
‘Thanks, I won’t say no.’
‘Can I get you anything? A cup of tea?’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
‘Goodness, I hadn’t heard but I can’t believe Penny’s pregnant.’
‘It’s only just come to light.’
Constance voiced her fears. ‘Do … do they know who the father is?’
‘No, but there’s lots of speculation. She’s been seen with a Jamaican boy who lives a couple of streets down, and if that’s the case I reckon her mother will have a fit. Ivy is very prejudiced.’
Constance slumped with relief. It was only speculation, but at least Albie hadn’t been named. The baby began to cry and Jill stood up and began rocking him back and forth. Constance couldn’t help smiling when she saw the scene. With red cheeks, a mop of dark hair and chubby little legs, he was adorable. ‘Oh, he’s gorgeous,’ she gushed.
‘Meet Andrew, or Andy for short,’ Jill said, ‘though my hubby calls him the Michelin Man. Mind you, with those legs I ain’t surprised. Andy loves his food. He’s such a happy contented little chap, and I reckon when he starts walking he’ll lose all the fat off his chubby legs.’
‘When do you think he’ll start to walk?’
‘Not just yet, but he crawls everywhere and is into everything. When is your baby due?’
‘In two months, and thank you so much for the baby clothes.’
‘You’re welcome. I’ve sorted out all white and pale yellow things, but if you have a boy, I can give you some more bits and pieces.’
‘You’re very kind.’
‘Think nothing of it. We haven’t got much round here, but we look out for each other. Don’t judge us all by that nasty bunch who’ve made your life a misery. At least they’ll back off now.’
‘Oh, I hope so. I dread going out and running into them.’
‘Listen, instead of being cooped up all day, why don’t you put your coat on and come out for a walk. It’s lovely in the park this time of year with the spring flowers on display, and by the look of you, a bit of fresh air will do you good.’
‘Oh, I’d love to,’ Constance said, daring to hope that she had made a friend.
On that same Tuesday morning, Ethel was growing concerned. She hadn’t seen Constance for what seemed like ages, and hoped she was all right. The last time she’d seen her, Constance had told what had happened, that Dora and Albie were furious that she’d been to see her and forbade any further contact. It had surprised her when Constance said that, despite that, she would still visit. The girl was made of sterner stuff than she’d realised.
It was a lovely spring day, and with her legs so much better now, Ethel decided to go to the market for some shopping, and afterwards call in at the café for a cup of tea. She enjoyed watching Mary waiting on the tables and had seen her grow in confidence. She was another one who’d surprised her and wasn’t as daft as she’d thought.
‘Morning, love,’ one of the costermongers called. ‘How about some nice spring cabbage, fresh in today?’
‘No thanks,’ Ethel called, and then further along the market she stopped at a stall selling wool. She wanted to knit something for Constance’s baby, but as she was very out of practice, it would have to be something simple like a pram blanket.
She found a book of patterns, and seeing what she was looking at, the stall-holder said, ‘Don’t tell me Mary’s in the family way.’
Ethel smiled. In such a short time everyone seemed to know Mary. ‘No, of course she isn’t. I’m looking for something simple to knit for a friend.’
‘Well, then, when you’ve found a pattern let me know and I’ll show you some wool.’
Ethel nodded, and soon afterwards she left the stall with the pattern, wool and needles. She then headed for the café, pleased to see that the morning rush had died down and few customers were sitting at the tables.
Mary grinned when she saw her. ‘What have you been buying?’
Ethel told her, then ordered a cup of tea and a currant bun. She sat at a window table and soon Mary put the tea and bun in front of her, saying, ‘Percy is so funny. He said this morning that a crook who stole a calendar got twelve months. He’s always coming out with little jokes like that.’
Ethel chuckled and then said, ‘I wonder how old he is.’
‘Helen said he’s forty-two.’
‘Is he married?’
‘No, Helen said he lived with his mother until she died and then inherited her house. He now lives over the café and rents the house to a young married couple.’
‘Well, he’s no oil painting, but I’m surprised he isn’t married. With his own house and this café, I’d have thought a gold-digger would have snapped him up. Anyway, changing the subject, I’m worried about Constance. It’s been ages since she’s been to see us.’
‘If she still hasn’t turned up on Sunday, I could go to see if she’s all right. Hopefully Albie will be out, but even if he isn’t, he’s got no reason to be funny with me.’
‘Constance told both him and my daughter that you’re living with me, so I can’t see them letting you over the doorstep.’
‘Your daughter has never seen me,’ Mary said.
‘Yeah, that’s true, and if you go when Albie is likely to be having a pint before Sunday lunch, you’ll have a good chance of talking to Constance.’
‘Right, that’s settled then. If Constance doesn’t turn up by Sunday, I’ll be going to find out what’s happened to her.’
Ethel hoped Mary didn’t run up against Albie, but she was desperate for news of Constance and felt it worth the risk.
Constance, unaware of Ethel and Mary’s concern, returned from her walk with Jill feeling happier. The park had looked lovely with its beds of spring flowers, the bright yellow daffodils and red tulips lifting her spirits. She and Jill chatted as if they’d known each other for ages, and when they parted Jill invited her to her house the next day. Connie readily agreed, looking forward to a change of scenery, and wondering if in time she could confide in Jill about being forbidden to see Ethel.
If Jill agreed to the ruse, she could go to her house, making sure that Ivy saw her going in, then once inside she could sneak out the back door. She wouldn’t be able to stay at Ethel’s for long, maybe an hour, but then she’d return the way she left, with Ivy none the wiser. Of course she wouldn’t be able to ride her bike, but as her tummy was so large now, it was probably for the best. Albie had stopped giving her any money, but she still had a little left and would willingly use that for a taxi and chance to see Ethel.
Connie sighed. She’d had big ideas about showing Albie that she wasn’t going to be the obedient little wife, but instead she’d allowed both him and his mother to dominate her. If she had somewhere else to go, some means to support herself and her child, she’d leave, but with hardly a penny to her name and nowhere else to live, she was trapped.
She walked into the kitchen and began to prepare dinner, knowing that no matter what she cooked, it wouldn’t be good enough for her husband. Huh! Husband. Her marriage remained unconsummated, and though she had once craved affection, she now felt nothing but indifference towards Albie. One day, no matter what, she’d get away from both him and his mother, and she prayed that day wouldn’t be too long in coming.
Albie whistled as he strolled along. He’d passed his driving test and tomorrow he’d pick up his secondhand car. He looked forward to showing it off, along with his new clobber, the suit made by a tailor on Lavender Hill.
‘Hello, Albie,’ a voice said from behind him.
‘Wotcher, Penny.’
‘I suppose you’ve heard?’
‘Heard what?’
‘That I’m pregnant.’
‘No, I didn’t know.’
‘I’m surprised my mum hasn’t been round to your mum for sympathy.’
‘I don’t think she has.’
‘She must be too ashamed of me.’
‘Are you getting married?’
‘I can’t. He’s done a runner.’
‘Do I know him?’ Albie asked.
‘I don’t think so. I’ll tell you about him, but you’ve got to keep it to yourself.’
‘Yeah, all right.’
‘His name is Leroy and his family came here from Jamaica.’
‘Bloody hell, Penny, if your mother finds out she’s going to crucify you.’
‘She already knows. The baby is going to be mixed race so I had to tell her.’
‘I bet that didn’t go down well.’
‘That’s a bit of an understatement. She went absolutely potty. She’s sending me away to make sure that nobody sees the baby when it’s born, and then she’s insisting I give it up for adoption.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘To be honest, I think it’s for the best. My mother will never accept a mixed-race baby.’
‘Blimey, if this gets out the gossips in Kibble Street are going to give you a bad time.’
‘I think there are rumours about the father being black, but thankfully nobody knows for sure, and as they’ll never get to see the baby there won’t be any proof.’
‘They’re still going to give you a hard time until you leave.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’ve seen the way they’ve treated your wife, and I wish now that I’d stood up for her. Still, it’s my turn now so no doubt they’ll leave her alone.’
Albie stopped outside the pub and said, ‘Right, I’m going to have a pint before I go home. See you, Penny, and good luck.’
‘Thanks, Albie. I think I’m gonna need it,’ she said, and then continued on her way.
Albie walked into a fog of cigarette smoke and went up to the bar, thinking as he ordered his drink that he was in no rush to get home and see his wife’s swollen stomach and miserable face.
With Albie out as usual, Dora was knitting and Constance reading, the only sound the ticking of the mantel clock. The back door opened, and Ivy walked into the room, looking awful, her eyes red-rimmed, and her face pale. ‘I suppose you’ve heard,’ she said without preamble.
‘There’s a rumour going round at work, so yes.’
‘Yeah, well, it ain’t true. If I hear anyone accusing my Penny of sleeping with a black bloke, I’ll knock their bloody lights out.’
‘But she is pregnant?’
Ivy slumped down onto a chair. ‘Yeah, and I could kill her. I’m going to send her away until it’s born and then it’s going up for adoption.’
‘Has she said who the father is?’
Ivy’s eyes shifted, avoiding contact as she said, ‘No, but she’s been seen with Albie a good few times lately.’
Dora reared to her feet, the knitting falling to the floor. ‘Don’t you dare try to name my Albie as the father, especially as you know full well it ain’t true. The fact that you’re sending Penny away so nobody sees the baby before it’s adopted is proof enough for me that it’s gonna be black. Now get out of my house, Ivy, and if I hear one single rumour that my Albie is the father, I’ll shout the bloody truth from the rooftops.’
‘Dora, please, I’m sorry. I was just desperate, that’s all, and as Albie has been a bit of a lad, I didn’t think you’d mind.’
‘Mind? You didn’t think I’d mind? You must be off your bloody rocker! Albie is a married man now. He’s settled down and you trying to name him as the father could wreck his marriage.’
‘Huh, what marriage? From what I’ve seen it’s a farce.’
‘Get out, Ivy! Go on, go, and don’t come back,’ Dora yelled.
Ivy scurried off and Dora only sat down again when she heard the door slam behind her, ‘Huh, some friend she’s turned out to be. And, Connie, don’t you go believing a word of it. Albie isn’t the baby’s father.’
‘Maybe not, but Ivy is right about one thing,’ Connie said, feeling emboldened. ‘Our marriage is a farce.’
‘Yeah, well, maybe if you made a bit of an effort with your appearance it would make a difference.’
‘How? I’m seven months pregnant and nothing fits me any more.’
‘I’ll knock you up some maternity smocks, but it ain’t just that. Your hair’s a mess, and you could wear a bit of make-up.’
Still feeling emboldened, Connie said, ‘I’ve no money for hairdressers or make-up.’
‘I know Albie’s been a bit harsh on you, I have too, but as long as you stay away from my bitch of a mother I think it’s time to make a fresh start.’
Constance knew that she couldn’t stop going to see Ethel, but she nodded in compliance as a thought struck her – Ivy would no longer be her jailer. Now that the woman had fallen out with Dora, she wouldn’t be watching her, and though Constance knew she would still have to be careful, she felt suddenly freer.
Soon, very soon, she would go to see Ethel.