Wandsworth Prison, October 1917
A visit that sets the future
Ada stood at Shepherd’s Bush station and for the umpteenth time checked her route to Wandsworth. Excitement mingled with trepidation and made her feel almost sick. People milled around her: confident people, all appearing to rush somewhere important. But none could be on a more important mission than she was. At last she had permission to visit Joe – now, ten months into his sentence, and telling her in his long letters that he was settled in and resigned to his punishment. Aye, he may be, but what about me? I’m being punished too, when neither of us should be. But then Paddy paid the worst price of all, so what me and Joe have to bear is nowt, compared to him losing his life.
When she thought of Paddy she tried to remember the good times and the good things about him. She missed his love-making to this day; and aye, she knew there was many a lass that probably did, too. But Paddy had been a good daddy to his lads, in the way he’d loved and cared for them. Even though he didn’t provide well for them, they were his world. Though it was always in his character to be a rough diamond, and selfish with it, she had to admit he hadn’t been that bad until he lost his lads. He couldn’t handle that, and she should have been more understanding. Well, he was with them now. Eeh, me lads . . . me lads.
The smoke from the train swirled around, reminding her of other memories: catching the train to the munitions factory, the long hours, the danger – and the explosion! She still had nightmares about it. But it was good to know that Lady Eloise’s charity was making a difference to all those who remained in Low Moor.
There were times when she missed Low Moor and the lasses there, and she often missed Beryl. Not the Beryl of today, who sent her vile letters. But the sister of her youth, before she found out about the affair Beryl was having with Paddy.
Taking her seat on the train didn’t stop the thoughts. She supposed it was because she was at last going to see Joe. It had triggered her memories of the past and made her mull over what was happening now.
Looking in her handbag once again, to make sure she had her visitor’s pass safe, the crinkle of paper as she moved Beryl’s latest letter out of the way reminded her that she hadn’t finished reading it. Pulling it out, she smoothed it and read:
So you think you’re rid of me, our Ada. Well, you’re not! I’ll get out of this hellhole and, when I do, I’m coming to get you.
Murderer! Child-stealer! Eeh, you’ve had your revenge, but that’s nowt to what I’ve planned for you and your murdering boyfriend.
A shudder of extreme sorrow went through Ada. How did Beryl become so ill? But then her feeling changed to one of horror, as she read on and wondered just what her sister was capable of doing. She feared that Beryl had truly entered a state of madness, for now she seemed to think she was writing to their mam:
Eeh, Mam, I miss you. I wish you would come and see me. I ask for you every day, but these cows here, who call themselves nurses, say as you are dead. Well, I know you’re not. Please come, please.
This tugged at Ada’s heart. What must it be like to have some of your past wiped away and to think that your dead mam is still alive, and to long for her to come and see your She felt such pity and she determined to find a way to have Beryl near to her, so that she could rebuild the loving relationship they used to have, as far as that was possible with Beryl’s altered mental state.
She would ask Lady Eloise to help. Eeh, it was nice to see Lady Eloise and Lord Jay so happy. She blushed at her forthrightness when she’d discovered them kissing. Ha, they didn’t ask me to be a bridesmaid! Better than that, she and Annie and all of the other workers and volunteers had attended a wonderful party held in the ballroom of Lady Eloise’s home in Holland Park. Eeh, it were grand as owt. The family waited on them all, as the servants of the house and of the family’s Leicestershire home were guests, too. By, it were the best thing I’ve ever been to in me life!
The lift these thoughts gave her spirit didn’t last long, as she read more of Beryl’s letter:
Mam, our Ada has changed. She’s bad, evil. She took me man and she took me babby and had me incarcerated here! But don’t worry, I’m going to get her. I know where she lives. Can you believe she’s moved to London? Well, nowhere is too far. If I get out of here, she had better watch out. I have a plan. She is going to die!
I love and miss you, Mam. Please come to see me.
Tour loving daughter, Beryl xxx
Ada could only guess at what their mam would have thought. Eeh, Mam. Like Beryl, I wish you were still here, though I wouldn’t want you to go through what I’ve been through. Or what any of us are going through, for that matter.
Edith came to her mind then. And the twist in the tale that might mean Edith’s twins were right here in London! Oh God, what shall I do if I don’t hear from Edith? Ada had to admit it was highly unlikely that she would hear from her in time.
It had been a shock to be preparing the list of possible attendees at the clinic next Thursday and to see a note asking that a Polish lady be added to it. There was some doubt as to whether she would attend, as she had appeared to be afraid when the charity workers went to her door. But her notes had said that she was caring for her motherless grandchildren: twin girls! The notes also said that she had escaped Poland via France.
That hadn’t given Ada any thoughts that these could be Edith’s girls, but the woman’s name had: Tolenski! Searching through Edith’s letters, she had found a reference to that name, as Edith had written, ‘The Tolenskis have gone.’
Oh, the heartbreak that letter had contained!
But if this was the same couple, what could she do? The torment of this question had visited her many times over the last couple of days. She couldn’t confront them, as they didn’t speak English. She couldn’t use the lad who spoke their language, as that would mean telling him about Edith! There was no one she could turn to – no one. If she did, she would break Edith’s confidence, and the secret Edith so wanted to keep would be out.
Anguish over the situation made every muscle in Ada’s body tense. How can I save those children for Edith? Her heart thudded as she remembered reading that the Polish woman intended taking the children back to her homeland when the war was over. Would Edith be home in time?
As soon as she could, she had written to Edith. Now she had no choice but to wait for her reply. If Edith confirmed that these were her twins, by describing the couple who had care of them, then Ada would do all she could to befriend the couple and appear as someone who wanted to help, and maybe find out all she could about what their intentions were.
At last Ada was in the line of visitors. Her pass, which she had at times thought might not be valid for some reason, had given her admittance without any problems. Once the search of their bodies had been completed, an indignation that Ada endured but hated, the main gates were opened.
They clanged as they closed behind her, and the grating of the key in the lock filled her with trepidation. But her excitement won out. There he was: her Joe, behind a grid, but smiling his lovely smile. Oh, aye, she could see it was a watery smile, as hers was, but it was grand all the same.
‘Eeh, me little love, at last.’
Stretching out her hands, she caught hold of his.
‘NO TOUCHING!’ The shout made her jump.
‘Take no notice, love. Keep hold of me hands . . . Agh!’ A whack on the back of Joe’s head cut into his words and made him pull his hands back.
‘Obey the rules, Grinsdale, or go back to your cell and ’ave all visiting passes cancelled for the next year!’
‘Sorry, sir. It was me excitement at seeing me lass. There’ll be no more rule-breaking, that’s not me style.’
‘See that there’s not!’
‘Eeh, Joe, Joe. How do you bear it?’
‘I bear it because I knows thee’s waiting for me, lass. And because me slate will be wiped clean when I come out.’
They didn’t speak for a moment, but just gazed into each other’s eyes. She didn’t miss the slow trail of a tear making its way down his cheek, but she didn’t comment. Instead she told him of her new life and friends. All the bits that she couldn’t put into a letter. And especially about Brendan: how he was growing and what he got up to, now that he was crawling all over the place. And about Rene. Rene had left for France, but as yet Ada didn’t know where she was. But she didn’t tell Joe about the woman she was to meet on Thursday. Or about Beryl. Not even to her Joe could she divulge Edith’s secret, and Beryl’s antics would only worry him.
Joe had tales to tell, too. Most made her laugh, although others brought a sadness to her. Like the one about the prisoner whose daughter had been killed in France; she had been driving a truck carrying the wounded, when a bomb had hit. She and all her passengers had perished. He’d asked to be allowed to spend a few days with his family, but had been refused.
‘That’s a sad tale, Joe. Tell him I will be thinking of him and praying for his wife and for his daughter’s soul. He should be very proud of her.’
‘He is, but he knows that part of what motivated her to join up was to escape the shame he’d brought down on her, so it’s like a double punishment for him.’
‘Aw, naw. Poor fella. Anyroad, let’s talk of happier things, like the future, eh?’
Aye. I’ve been told that if I behave meself, I could be in for having me time shortened!’
‘Eeh, Joe.’
Aye, I thought that would please you. And it could be by as much as a year and a half, so I could be out of here by mid-1920! By, it sounds like a lifetime away, as time passes slowly in here, but it will pass. It will.’
‘It will. And, I’m asking you now, Joe: will you marry me on, let’s see, the first of August 1920? I’ll get everything arranged.’
‘I will, Ada. And thank you for asking me, as I didn’t feel I had the right to ask you, with the position I’m in.’
‘By, just think, our Brendan will be coming on four years old then, and he can be a pageboy!’
‘That’d be grand, lass. Grand.’
As the train took her home, Ada was filled with mixed feelings. There was extreme sadness at leaving Joe and not knowing when she would see him again, and trepidation about the situation with the Polish woman, and about Beryl. But there was also the joy at having had her marriage proposal accepted, as she knew, as Joe had said, that he would never have asked her while he was in prison. Oh yes, he’d hinted about her becoming his wife in the past, but this was a firm commitment. She’d buy a ring and wear it on her left hand. It would show that they were engaged. It wouldn’t matter that it hadn’t come from Joe. All that mattered would be what it stood for. Oh, Joe, my Joe . . .