Chapter 35

Lily had dressed for the occasion. She was wearing a thin summer coat and underneath, a pale blue frock with gaping stitches at the hem, but neatly held together with a blue sash belt, set off with a wide collar made of lace, and edged in white piping at the seams of the ruched bodice. On her head she wore a red beret, pulled over her unruly hair, and around her neck, as a last-minute thought, she was wearing the locket that Rosie had given her. For luck, she remembered Rosie’s note, saying. She was going to need it today. Vincent wore his best suit in the hope it would distract from his scuffed shoes and slightly frayed collar. It was decided that he should wait in the cafe.

Stella turned to him to reassure him this was the right thing to do. ‘I know how this works. You do as they say. Does no good to rub them up the wrong way. They’ve asked to see Lily and me, so that’s what we should do.’

Vincent agreed reluctantly, after being persuaded by Lily. He followed them outside to say goodbye and good luck, pacing nervously, sucking on a cigarette, under the branches of a large sycamore tree.

‘Don’t be long,’ he said, panting a kiss on Lily’s cheek.

‘You’re here to see Sister Assumpta?’ said the nun who greeted Stella and Lily at the door.

Lily nodded, expecting there to be eye-rolling and tutting, or head-shaking. But there was neither. The nun placed a hand on Lily’s arm. It was as though she almost felt sorry for her.

‘They’re ready for you in the office.’

Stella and Lily followed her down the corridor and into the bowels of the convent. The smell of incense was sweet and heady. Candles on spikes dripped onto metal trays underneath, forming waxy stalagmites and stalactites. The smiling face of the Virgin Mary, in her vivid blue robes; the snake at her feet with its red forked tongue and unnaturally realistic eyes that Lily felt were following her. A small statue of St Boniface, in desperate prayerful pose, encapsulated the way Lily was feeling. What was she doing here? It felt as if the whole of her life was hanging in the balance with what was going to happen in the next fifteen minutes. With each step of dreadful anticipation, gloom descended.

‘Sister, do you know what Sister Assumpta wants to talk to us about?’ asked Stella.

The nun shook her head.

Lily wasn’t convinced she was telling the truth. She’s probably taken a vow of silence on the flaming matter, she thought, darkly.

They followed her to Ambrose, went through the heavy, creaking door, down another corridor, and then, taking out a set of keys, she unlocked one door and then another. It was the nursery! Lily had never been here before and her heart lurched. It was such a sad place. A mobile swayed forlornly on its string in a draft and a dozen or so empty cots were laid out from one side of the room to the other, each with a uniform crocheted blanket draped over the rails at one end.

‘Empty now. The evacuees have brought a bit of life to this place, thanks be to God,’ the nun said.

But where’s my baby? Lily wanted to ask, as panic suddenly took hold of her.

They slowed to a stop outside a large carved wooden door, and went to go into the room beyond.

‘Take your hat off,’ Stella whispered to Lily. ‘The nuns will have a hissy fit.’

Lily pulled the beret off her head, stuffed it into her pocket. ‘I’m grand, Mam,’ she said bravely.

Sister Assumpta was sitting at a desk and there was a man sitting rigid in a chair, silhouetted against the light flooding in from the window, two empty chairs beside him.

‘Clarence!’ yelped Lily in a whisper, when he turned his head to see her come in. What on earth was he doing here? And he winked at her. She was sure he winked at her.

‘Ah. The Laffertys,’ said Sister Assumpta.

Lily felt her heart was pounding so badly it was going to burst through her chest. It was the way the nun said it, with a sneer, a slight turning down of her mouth, peering over her half-moon spectacles.

‘The famous Laffertys. Sit down.’

Lily felt the stuffing that was coming through the seat of the chair prickling the backs of her knees and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

The nun gestured to the sister to leave. ‘So, I shall come to the point.’

She paused for effect, put her elbows on the table and steepled her hands, propping up her chin with her bony middle fingers. Lily felt tears springing to her eyes.

‘This man …’

He has a bloody name! Lily wanted to say.

‘This man …’ Assumpta gestured vaguely in the direction of Clarence. ‘Is it true that he is the father of your child?’

Lily’s mouth dropped open. And Clarence looked at her keenly, his eyes widening. It was as if he was trying to say something, to signal something to her. Stella, fiddling with the clasp on her purse nervously, clipping and unclipping the brass fastener, started.

‘Sister, I …’ Lily’s voice wobbled. It was as though she was unable to utter a single word. She looked over at Stella who was now toying frantically with the pearl necklace around her neck.

‘Well, is he?’ asked Sister Assumpta. ‘Because that’s what Mr Potter has told us.’

The silence in the room felt suffocating. Lily hardly dared to breathe. It felt as if the answer to this question was the key to her future. She could say yes. Or she could say no. Which was it to be?

‘Come on, Lily. I haven’t got all day. Cat got your tongue? You must know. Heavens above, if you’re not sure, we’re in a more dire place than we are in even now.’

Stella wiped away beads of sweat forming on her brow. ‘Sister, I—’

‘I’m not asking you, Mrs Lafferty. For the love of God, Lily, it’s a simple question: is Clarence Aimé the father of your child?’

Lily paused. She raised her finger and thumb to her mouth, squeezed her bottom lip, didn’t look up directly when Clarence crossed and uncrossed his legs and cleared his throat, but there was no doubt that she had seen out of the corner of her eye that he was trying to communicate with her.

‘Sister …’ she replied.

And with that Clarence leaned forward, across the table.

‘We only want to give our baby a home,’ he said and placed a hand on Lily’s knee.

What the devil was he saying? Lily’s cheeks stung. She stared down at the hand, feeling it burn through her skirt, then looked back up at the nun, confused and terrified.

Stella frowned. For the life of her, she didn’t know what to make of this.

But in that gesture, Lily suddenly realised what was happening. That Clarence was, at this moment, trying to turn all the hate and unkindness in the world into something good, something noble and humane and compassionate.

‘Yes, Sister. He’s the father of my child,’ answered Lily, firmly.

‘Not this Vincent character?’

‘No. It’s Clarence’s.’

The nun leaned back in the creaking chair and folded her arms over her ample bosom. ‘And doesn’t that feel better now you’ve told the truth, Lily? Why on earth lie? You might be able to keep these things from the world, but you can never keep them from God. So what now?’

‘Sorry,’ said Lily. ‘Are you asking me?’

‘The Potters have returned your child. It seems Mr Aimé visited them. Very unusual. And now Mrs Potter says the child is an unnaturally difficult child – something of an unruly spirit in her – to say nothing of her swarthy complexion!’

‘Where is she?’ gasped Lily, unable to contain herself.

‘Be quiet, Lily. I haven’t finished. The Potters say that if you want her back, then they won’t stand in her way.’

‘And you?’

‘It’s unusual for us to allow a girl to take her child back – after all, you signed the papers. But with this war it’s not easy for us to place babies, people have other pressing matters on their minds. So, as the Potters have returned the child, and as we’re full to the gills with the evacuees, if you really think you can give her a home – and if you marry, of course, and repent – well, you have my blessing.’

Stella’s eyes flashed black. She knew what was happening all right. And so did Lily.

But then there was someone at the door and Lily turned round.

‘Sister David!’ she cried, seeing the nun standing there with a bundle of blankets in her arms. And in the bundle, a baby. Sister David, seeing them all, beamed a smile.

‘Here. Your baby …’ she said, holding the child out. Lily leaped up, dashed over, and leaned into Sister David. Overwhelmed, she felt she couldn’t breathe and her body was shaking as she took the bundle and cradled it to her. Clutching her close to her body, feeling the newness of her, marvelling at how much she had changed in the two weeks since she had been born, the milk spots had disappeared and her skin was smooth and perfect and her hair had grown. Those little brown curls poking over the top of the blankets made Lily’s eyes swell with tears.

The baby gurgled and, by instinct, Lily rocked her gently, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

‘She’s beautiful,’ said Clarence.

The baby gurgled again.

‘She’s smiling, Mam! Clarence, she’s smiling at us!’ Tears rolled down Lily’s face. She bent her head. ‘Home now, darlin’,’ she said. ‘I’ve found you. And I’m never going to let go of you again.’

Sister David smiled. She stuffed a bag into Stella’s hands; it was filled with tissues and nappies, a bottle and cartons of dried baby milk. Clarence drew himself up to his full height and shook the nun’s hand.

They moved towards the door. But when they reached it, Lily stopped suddenly. Turning to face Assumpta, she paused.

‘Sister,’ she said bravely, ‘there’s one more thing. I’ve always tried to see the good in a person, and I’m so grateful you’re giving me my baby back. But I know that there’s something unpleasant in what you’re doing – an unkindness to Clarence. When you thought Vincent was the father, you insisted that we had lost our child forever. Now you think she’s Clarence’s, you are very happy to give her back to us. You see, I saw whatever you have in your heart, whatever cruelty, prejudice, or nasty thoughts you have, because I saw the same look on the faces of those men who kicked Clarence for no reason other than hateful fear.’

The nun’s eyes widened in shock and outrage.

‘I beg your pardon!’ she gasped.

‘I want you to know that I know why you have given me back my baby. May God forgive you, actually, Sister. You like saying that to us, right enough. But it’s you who needs to be praying on your knees and begging for his mercy.’

‘What did you expect, you stupid girl!’ Assumpta cried, her spittle flying across the table as she spoke. ‘How am I going to get rid of a child whose father is – is—’

‘Say it, Sister,’ drawled Clarence.

She jabbed a finger in his direction. ‘Like him!’ she said. ‘Ridiculous.’

Lily shook her head. ‘Clarence is a good man. The very best of men.’

‘Oh, isn’t he the saint!’

‘Sister, all it is, is fear. Fear in your heart. But you have nothing to fear. Not from Clarence. Maybe from God, but not from Clarence.’

Clarence’s eyes widened. He was mesmerised; he had never heard anyone speak like this before, but then a grin spread across his face. Lily smiled at him.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Come on, Mam. Let’s get out of this miserable place. We’ve got some celebrating to do.’

As instructed by Assumpta, a flustered Sister David led them out of a side door into the walled garden, before they headed towards an anonymous-looking wooden door. Clarence opened it and darted a look into the road.

‘Let’s go before she changes her mind,’ he said. ‘I’d take on an army over that Sister Assumpta any day of the week!’

‘God will keep you well. And I look forward to hearing about the wedding,’ Sister David. ‘And Stella, I prayed for you. And I’m happy. That this time it’s a happy ending …’

Lily exchanged a look with her mother.

She wanted to ask Stella more about the nun’s words, but Sister David, was shooing them out, locking the door again, sending them away with more prayers and waves. Was this the horrible warning that she’d once talked of? Lily wondered. She would save that conversation for later.

Vincent was sitting in the cafe at a table in the bay window, drinking a cup of Bovril, his hands cupped around it nervously. Lily knocked on the steamed-up glass and beckoned him to come out and join them.

‘Vince!’

He looked up and gasped. He rushed to go out, shoving the chair out from behind him, which fell on the floor, apologising as he flung a shilling onto the saucer, then tearing out of the door.

‘You found her!’ he said. ‘Oh, Lil! Is this my baby? My little girl?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘And this is Clarence,’ she added, in a softer tone. ‘It’s him we have to thank – he helped us more than you know.’

Vince thrust out his hand. ‘I’m so sorry. Seems I misjudged you, sir,’ he said,

‘You did, Vince. He’s a good man,’ said Lily.

‘Aye,’ replied Vince. ‘Can I shake your hand and tell you that? I’m so sorry.’

‘No need for that,’ said Clarence, batting aside his stuttering apologies. ‘No need at all. Your Lily is a grand girl and I’m pleased I can return a favour, that’s all.’

And as Lily handled the bundle to her love, and his whole body shook with a happiness he had never imagined was possible, she felt emboldened. For at last she had a sense of good things about to happen in their lives, things that were kind and true and virtuous. Things that Clarence would always have a part in, in a world that suddenly felt a better place because of him.