1951
I’VE HAD A LOT TO write in my diary recently: Lucy’s terrible situation, her idea about marrying Rupert, that awful evening of the seance. Each day has required a storm cloud. I’ve also been writing down all that’s happening here. A strained and frosty atmosphere has lingered in the house the last few days after Reg asked my mother to lend him three pounds. My mother refused and I could hear Reg shouting at her, telling her, I’m your husband, for Pete’s sake, if that still counts for anything, and that what’s hers is his, and doesn’t she want him to be happy? Doesn’t she trust him when he hears about an opportunity? We’ll lose the house if you carry on like this, my mother had said. I don’t know why you have to make such a big deal out of it, Nancy. Show me a man who doesn’t have a bit of a flutter every now and then.
Tonight, we’ve had fish and chips straight from the paper. Once we’ve finished and Mother is tipping the scraps into the bin, Reg goes out to the privy and I decide now has to be the time to ask. If I’m going to do it, I need to get it over with. I remind myself I’m doing this for Lucy. She believes my mother might be able to help, that Mother might have some idea of what she should do.
I take a deep breath, praying I’m doing the right thing.
‘Lucy is pregnant.’
My mother turns and stares at me.
‘Are you sure? Did she tell you?’
I nod miserably. ‘She’s sure.’
My mother considers this. She sits at the table, fumbles for her cigarettes. The first match goes out and she tries again. ‘Well,’ she says finally. ‘Who’d have thought.’
‘She didn’t mean it to happen,’ I say, feeling I ought to defend Lucy.
‘No, I should think not,’ my mother replies thoughtfully.
The kitchen door bangs. Reg is back sooner than I thought he would be. He looks from me to my mother. ‘What’s this then? Who’s died?’
‘It’s nothing,’ I say quickly.
Reg glares at me. ‘I don’t like secrets in this house.’
‘Lucy Theddle is pregnant,’ my mother says.
I shake my head; my fingers twitching. How could she have told Reg? I glance at her crossly but she won’t meet my eye.
There is a moment’s silence, then Reg begins to laugh. ‘Well, that’s a turn-up for the books. Lucy Theddle. Pregnant. I’d have thought it far more likely you’d be the one to get yourself in that sort of mess.’
My mother flinches but doesn’t say anything.
‘She’s very worried,’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘She’s . . . desperate.’ I turn to my mother. ‘She wanted me to ask you if there is anything you might be able to do to help her.’
Reg grins at me. ‘Your mother’s a very talented woman, Edie, but there are some things—’
‘Yes, I know,’ I interrupt him. ‘I told her the same, but she insisted I ask.’
‘Poor Barbara,’ my mother mutters.
‘Her parents don’t know,’ I say quickly. ‘And she needs to keep it that way.’
Reg reaches for his pipe. ‘And who’s the father then?’ he says, a glint in his eye. I can see he’s enjoying this, revelling in Lucy’s misfortune, in something like this happening to the Theddles.
‘I don’t know,’ I lie. ‘She didn’t tell me. And you’re not to tell anyone,’ I say sternly. ‘She trusts me.’
Reg chuckles and sits at the table. ‘Is she going to marry the father?’ He packs tobacco into his pipe.
‘She doesn’t want to keep it, not if she can . . . find another solution.’
‘Oh.’ My mother considers this. Outside in the garden, a bird trills noisily.
Reg lights his pipe and puts the match out with a flick of his wrist. ‘If that’s what she’s after perhaps we might be able to help after all.’
‘What do you mean, Reg? I really don’t think there’s anything we can do,’ my mother says, anxiously.
‘I mean that I’ve heard rumours.’
‘What, about Lucy?’ I ask, panicked.
‘Not Lucy. Other girls. There’s a medical chap who drinks in The Bird in Hand. I’ve heard it said he assists girls in that way. For a fee, of course.’
I feel a swell of hope in my chest. I hate having to ask Reg for anything but I haven’t got much choice, not if I want to help Lucy. I remember her words: I wouldn’t know where to go.
‘Do you think you could ask him then?’
‘I reckon I might just be able to do that,’ Reg says with a sly smile. ‘There’d need to be something in it for us, though. Twenty per cent ought to do it. On top of his fee.’
‘You can’t do that,’ I say, horrified.
‘I most certainly can. We’ve got to think of the risk. Getting involved in something like this. It’s bleedin’ illegal, isn’t it.’
I look to my mother, but she shakes her head as if to warn me not to argue.
I sigh and rub my temples with my fingertips. I can’t believe I am having to rely on Reg.
‘Leave it with me,’ he says. ‘I’m sure we can fix her up. And people like the Theddles, people with money, well, their problems have a way of disappearing, don’t they? Funny, that. I’ll find out what he asks for. I’m sure she’ll be able to stump up.’
‘What about Lucy? The procedure, can it be risky?’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Reg says. ‘He’s a professional. Does it all the time from what I’ve heard.’