I think I’m preggers! Wouldn’t that be the best thing ever! I suppose I should go to a doctor and find out but I’ve lots of time and will wait a bit longer and see. I felt awfully peculiar this morning as soon as I got up and couldn’t touch a ciggy until after lunch.
Most odd. I also nearly fainted after my bath. I always have mine in the morning because it wastes a bit of time, but as I stepped out, everything spun round and I collapsed on the bath mat – all shaky and dripping.
I didn’t faint but it was a near thing.
I got dressed slowly, wondering and hoping, then went downstairs and sat in the hall – my mind racing. Little July, I kept thinking, little July.
I won’t say anything to August just yet, mustn’t get too excited, it’s very early days but oh, how wonderful if it’s true!
I told Mrs Stow I had a cold so wouldn’t be joining her for a ciggy and coffee in case I gave it to her. She’s not much of a cleaner, so this gave her an excuse not to do the hall, or the drawing room, or the stairs, in case she disturbed me.
I did feel foolish sitting there reading and not even one ciggy, but I couldn’t even face the thought of one and blew my nose several times for Mrs Stow to hear.
I managed a small portion of Mrs Stow’s shepherd’s pie and peas, followed by a cup of tea, and then felt better.
Thank goodness August wasn’t in for lunch so he didn’t notice.
I had two ciggies this afternoon so that’s an improvement – must see how I am tomorrow.
Now for another thing I don’t like – it’s Wolf.
She is August’s favourite and always has place of honour in front of the fireplace, on the rug. Reg, a black and tan mongrel, has to lie in the corner by the grandfather clock. But Wolf is a big black Alsatian with yellow eyes.
She came in this afternoon and lay there in her place when suddenly I looked up from my Agatha Christie (Death in the Clouds) and saw Wolf watching me. There was a strange glint in her eyes and I got an awful shock and sat for some minutes, mesmerized by the expression on her black face.
It was so intent I dared not move and thought, God, if that dog attacks me I haven’t got a hope.
Mrs Stow is only here in the mornings, and August was out somewhere and wouldn’t have heard me if I had screamed. I kept as still as anything and that damned dog kept on looking. Her head was raised, her ears pricked and those eyes never left me.
Finally I made myself look away and pretended to go on reading. I even – VERY CAUTIOUSLY – turned a page. Then after a moment or two, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lower her head onto her paws and give a short sigh.
It was eerie. Why did she do that? And would she ever spring? I do know her and she knows me, for heaven’s sake, and I pulled her away from that hedgehog and shut her and Reg in the shed.
But that was ages ago, I haven’t touched her since; she’s
nearly always out with August. In future I’m going to shut myself in the bedroom, if she’s around, and wait until August gets in. I don’t want to be on my own with her again. And what about a baby? What if she’s jealous of that?
If only August talked more I could discuss it with him….
I met Betty’s Jim this morning. Although I was prepared to dislike him, he’s really very nice. He came up mid-morning and as I was feeling much better today, he stayed and chatted and I found him excellent company. He said he remembered me very well from the wedding and how beautiful I looked. Ha!
I told him it was Mil’s wedding gown and as it had fitted me really well she had let me borrow it. I also said I was sorry I didn’t remember him very well but he agreed that it had been a very busy day and a bit of a rush until we left to catch our train.
Jim is quite small compared to August, with a craggy tanned face, clear blue eyes and light brown hair. I can see Jerry in him when he smiles. His hands are big and look gentle and I should imagine animals feel safe with him.
Mrs Stow made him a cup of tea and I had one, too. I’m not normally a tea drinker, well, not in the morning, but that hot sweet cuppa tasted jolly good. As well as being off ciggies I’m also off coffee. I must be pregnant!
Jim Folder has a soft deep voice and made me feel I could confide in him. He wanted to know all about me and how I was enjoying country life, and was I missing my dancing and friends in London?
I don’t know if Betty has told him anything but what a difference between him and that insolent dairyman, Nick!
I might ask Jim about Wolf’s strange behaviour one day, but I’d better speak to August first. He mightn’t like me talking about his favourite dog behind his back.
I wish I had a doctor like Jim. Then I’d go and find out about the baby straight away. But the doctor in the village – Dr Wood – is a round, fat, jolly little man who cracks jokes and lets off loud explosions of laughter. I’ve only met him once, when I was introduced by Mil out in the street. Perhaps knowing that I was a dancer affected him?
I think he wants to be regarded as a good sort, and a chum to everyone – yuk – but he antagonized me and I don’t want him touching me with his pudgy pink hands.
Jim’s are trustworthy hands – kind and calming – and I should think he’d be good at a birth. Apparently he delivered Jerry. Betty left it too late to get into the hospital in Horsham, so Jim and Nurse Dickinson were with her.
It must be nice to have your baby in all the comfort of your own home, and not amongst starched strangers in a red-brick building.
I wonder if August would let me have little July here? I must ask him when he’s in a good mood. He seems very edgy these days and it’s even harder to talk to him than usual. That’s why I haven’t mentioned Wolf yet.
He was awfully cross when he came into the kitchen and found me and Jim nattering away at the table.
‘I thought I heard your car ages ago,’ he said, as Jim stood up. ‘I didn’t realize I’d find you sitting here at your leisure. There’s work to be done in the barn, man.’
Jim apologized and said he was just introducing himself to me as we hadn’t met properly before.
‘Keep your gossip for the pub, will you?’ said my husband rudely. ‘I need you outside.’
He stalked out in a foul temper, making me squirm. But Jim just smiled and gave me a quick pat on the shoulder.
‘Don’t mind him,’ he said. ‘He’s probably hungry. I’ll get down there and see what he wants. Lovely meeting you, Honey, and thanks for the tea, Mrs Stow,’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘When August comes back give him some food and he’ll soon recover his equilibrium.’
I grinned weakly as he went out. What a nice man. It was hard to believe that he left Betty alone in the evenings and spent his free time down at The Boar’s Head. Had Mil been exaggerating?
I’m not too sure about my mother-in-law. Now I’m wondering if she asked me to go and see her on Wednesday in order to get me out of the house, and old Snake-Eyes in?
I don’t know either of those women very well but they know each other, and it does seem odd that Jean Tilverton came sniffing round on the very morning I was invited out by August’s mother.
I do like Jim Folder, though, and can’t believe he would ever be two-faced. Why can’t August be comforting like that? All he ever seems to do these days is criticize when I’m longing for some love and encouragement. And I don’t see why it is always me who has to seduce him. Why can’t he ravish me, for a change?
Oh dear, now I’m being grumpy – it must be little July inside me disrupting my thoughts.
And perhaps August will become a changed man when he learns he is to be a father!
Mil motored up this afternoon in her little black Austin and I was surprisingly glad to see her. I was worrying about Wolf, and about August, and wishing I could smoke and enjoy coffee again, and feeling really out of sorts when she popped in.
I told her I had seen Jim Folder and really liked him.
‘But August got awfully annoyed when he found us sitting here over a cuppa and chatting,’ I said. ‘I can’t seem to do anything right these days. Why is he so irritable? Has he always been moody?’
Mil put the kettle on, which I didn’t mind at all. Then she sat opposite me at the kitchen table.
‘August is probably jealous,’ she said. ‘Don’t look so surprised. Has it not occurred to you that you’re a pretty girl and having been on the stage simply adds to your allure? Especially down here. All the men in the neighbourhood are probably dying to get a look at you. It’s no wonder August is a bit on edge. He’s found himself a treasure and is scared one of his mates will whisk you away when he’s not looking.’
I stared at her. She had never said anything so complimentary to me before.
‘Thank you for that. I am doing my best to make him a good wife but everything is so new and so different on the farm, I don’t think I’ll ever be as capable as you.’
She smiled in return. ‘I was scared at first that you would miss the bright lights and glamour of the stage and feared that you would find our country living dreadfully dull. And August is not easy, my dear, with his moods and silences, but bear with him.
‘You are bright and vivacious and just the person to liven him up a bit. Jim’s all right: he and August have known each other since childhood, but next time he comes suggest that he goes to see August first, then they can both come back for a cup of tea afterwards.’
Very wise. I shall do that. Then I told her how surprised I was to know about Jim’s drinking. He had seemed such a sympathetic and considerate person to me.
‘Jim’s a nice boy,’ said Mil, ‘and the fault isn’t all on his side, you know. Much as I like Betty, I can see she is also to blame.’
‘Betty is? Why?’
‘She is a nagger,’ said Mil. ‘You will find out in time that she niggles away about things which are quite unimportant. But she does go on. Trouble is, she’s really only interested in that pony. Yes, and her son,’ she added quickly, seeing my expression. ‘But she’s no good at housekeeping, Honey, hates cooking and cleaning, and so all her little irritations mount up and she takes it out on Jim when he gets home.’
I supposed Mil had heard all this from August, as he and Jim were old friends, but it did make me wonder what she thought about me. After all, my cooking and cleaning and housekeeping skills were as non-existent as Betty’s – but I did have Mrs Stow to help me. And I didn’t nag my husband. And I didn’t much like that talk about the Folders’ private life. Perhaps it wasn’t August. He didn’t seem like a gossip to me.
Mil rattled on.
‘Off Jim goes to the pub where there is pleasant male company and nobody cares if his boots are muddy, or if he smells of pig, or if he smokes too much,’ she said.
As she got up to go she said:
‘Give August a baby, Honey. All men need pride in themselves and in their family, and I should be delighted, as well. I’m longing to be a grandmother.’
‘Oh, Mil,’ I nearly hugged her, ‘there might be one on the way. I didn’t want to tell anyone so soon but there – now I’ve told you.’
She caught hold of my hands and there was genuine warmth glowing out of her.
‘Honey, how wonderful! Go and see Dr Wood as soon as you can and get it confirmed. Then you can tell August. This house needs a baby in it – several, I hope. What splendid news, dear.’
She went away all excited and enthusiastic and I felt pretty good, myself. Until I thought of that doctor. I really did not want to see him and have him exploring my body with his fat pink hands.