‘I’ve got to see my husband!’
The woman making the demands of Alfie, the newly appointed timekeeper, was very clearly expecting a baby – so much so that the young lad let her through the gates without the required dock pass, fearful she might have the baby there and then if she got any more agitated.
Alfie had taken over from Mick, the old timekeeper, who had suddenly left his position after being struck down by some mystery ailment. It hadn’t escaped the women’s notice that his illness had come about on the same day that Raymond’s body had been pulled out of the river.
Alfie asked the expectant woman who her husband was so he could direct her to the correct area of the yard.
‘Ned Pike,’ she told him in a loud, angry voice.
The young lad pointed her in the direction of the platers, telling her to be careful, especially in her condition, but watched concerned as the woman walked – or rather waddled, her hand on her large belly – over to the main office.
She had timed her arrival perfectly, whether intentionally or not, as it had just gone noon and the yard was relatively quiet. When she reached the area just at the foot of the administration block, she took a deep lungful of air before bellowing at the top of her voice, ‘Helen!’
A mass of flat caps and soot-smeared faces, many with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths or chomping on thick-crusted sandwiches, automatically turned to look at who was causing the commotion and, more interestingly, shouting for the boss’s daughter. As they looked from the pregnant woman up to the main office on the first floor of the administration building, they saw Helen’s perfectly made-up face tentatively appear at the window.
A crowd had now started to form near the woman as she took another deep breath. ‘Open the window,’ she commanded.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Helen did what she was told, probably relieved that the deranged pregnant woman wasn’t demanding she come down to meet with her face to face. Helen looked apprehensive as she stood, leaning forward slightly, with both hands resting on the windowsill.
Satisfied that she now had Helen’s attention, and that of the entire yard, the woman said what she had come to say. ‘I am Ned’s wife. And as you can see, I am expecting Ned’s baby.’ She took a deep, angry breath. ‘Why you would want to spread lies that my Ned is seeing one of your women welders is beyond me. But I want you, and everyone else in this yard, to know that not only is this not true, but that you, Helen Crawford, are a lying, conniving, sly bitch, who has nothing else to do but cause trouble for others. As if we all haven’t enough worries to contend with these days.’
Then Ned’s wife did an about-turn and marched, or rather walked as quickly as she could, considering her size, back across the yard, her head held high.
Helen looked dumbstruck as she watched Ned’s wife stomp away. Her face flushed red through a mixture of embarrassment and fury. She slammed the office window shut, causing the glass to rattle.
The office workers started to make themselves busy as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, although they were bursting with glee that the woman they all thoroughly disliked had been so publicly humiliated. Meanwhile Norman, who’d been watching the whole scene from the doorway of the boiler room with growing horror, cursing himself that he hadn’t considered that young Ned could be married, quickly made himself scarce.
The women welders were also surprised and more than a little amused by what they’d just witnessed. As they all headed over to the canteen, one by one they turned to look at Dorothy, who, they’d realised, didn’t look the least bit shocked by this piece of midday theatre.