Chapter Thirty-Four

Shortly after Miriam left, Helen quickly gathered what she needed and made her way out of the admin building. She made a mental note to ask Henrietta about the ‘fishbowl full of drugs’ she had apparently been given by Dr Eris. Her mother was either lying or exaggerating. She was pretty sure that Henrietta had been taken off most – if not all – of the medication she’d been prescribed by her old doctor.

Looking across the yard, she saw the light of the platers’ shed and caught a glimpse of Bobby. If he wasn’t on a date with Dorothy, he was working overtime, riveting, helping the platers, splicing ropes or doing general labouring. Gloria had confessed to Helen that she thought her son’s need to work all hours was not just because he wanted to feel as though he was still part of the fight to beat Jerry, but because he was saving up to buy an engagement ring. Neither Helen nor Gloria needed to say what the other was thinking – there weren’t enough hours in the day, or days in the week, for Bobby to afford to buy Dorothy a ring that might compare to the one Toby had bought her – and which was now funding a good part of the Christmas Extravaganza.

Walking through the gates and waving up at Davey the young timekeeper, she saw that Mickey the tea boy was with him. They were both reading a comic and sharing a cigarette. Helen hurried past and jumped into her green sports car. She put her handbag and her mother’s file on the passenger seat. As she pulled away from the yard, she thought about John. Her mother’s words had cut deep. She felt a dull ache in her chest as she thought of the prospect of John marrying Dr Eris. It was inevitable. They had been courting seriously for well over a year. Of course he would propose. It was just a matter of when. Soon, probably. Especially now the war was clearly nearing its end. It was the proper thing to do. And why not? They were perfectly matched.

As Helen drove across the river and into the east end, she could see the streets were full of life. Workers were making their way home or heading to their local drinking holes. Children were out on the snow-laden streets, building snowmen, tossing snowballs, their breath visible in the ice-cold weather.

Parking down a quiet, dark side street so as to avoid any attention, Helen hurried back onto the Hendon Road and walked for a short stretch before reaching the blue door with the polished brass plaque. She pulled on the bell and the door was again answered by the housekeeper. This time, though, she had on her coat over her pinny. Her work for the day was clearly done.

She opened the door wide.

‘Thank you,’ Helen said, making a show of wiping her feet. She walked down the short hallway and knocked on Mr Emery’s office door. She turned to see the old woman’s eyes on her as she slowly closed the front door behind her.

Having inspected the signed forms and added his own signature to the bottom, Mr Emery explained to Helen what would happen next. Listening intently, Helen hoped she would never have to call upon the knowledge she had garnered about the whole process of obtaining a divorce. Although, she thought rather self-pityingly, at the rate she was going, it was unlikely she’d ever get married, never mind divorced.

Mr Emery explained that the whole case had been much easier due to the fact that Jack had stated he did not want any money – not a penny – from Miriam, and that it would now be a matter of waiting for a call from himself to tell her that the signed forms had been dealt with by the judiciary and the decree nisi had been sanctioned. This did not mean the divorce was finalised, he stressed – that would take another six weeks. Only then would he receive the final decree – the decree absolute.

‘For all intents and purposes, though, once we have the decree nisi, it’s more or less a done deal,’ Mr Emery explained.

‘I can tell Jack and Gloria?’ Helen asked hopefully.

‘Yes, you can – but remember, they can’t marry until the decree absolute. It is that which formally ends the marriage. If he marries before this comes through, he will be committing bigamy. And we don’t want that.’

Helen thought of Dorothy’s mother.

‘No, we don’t,’ she agreed. ‘Do you think we will get the decree nisi through before Christmas?’

‘I will try and twist a few arms.’ He smiled. ‘Your Christmas present?’

Helen nodded. ‘Fingers crossed.’

The next day Helen had been due to go and see Henrietta, but a problem at work prevented her. She rang Genevieve and asked her to tell Miss Girling that she wouldn’t be able to visit as planned, but would be across on Saturday to take her for her final fitting.

‘Do you want me to get Dr Eris to sign a day-release form in advance so it’s all ready for you?’ Genevieve asked.

‘Yes, please. That would be helpful,’ Helen replied curtly.

She had thought for a while that the elderly receptionist seemed very keen to please of late. Overly keen. With hindsight, she had seemed particularly eager to please from around the time Dr Eris had told her she knew who Miss Girling really was. Helen had begun to suspect a guilty conscience. Then, the other day, while she had been chatting to her grandmother, she had learnt that Genevieve had been at the asylum longer than most of the patients and staff. And that she had been working at the asylum when Henrietta had been admitted. When Helen had quizzed her grandmother further, she’d learnt that Genevieve knew just about everything there was to know about the asylum – and those in it. Both the doctors and the patients.

‘She knows everyone’s secrets,’ Henrietta had said conspiratorially.

It had cemented Helen’s belief that it had been Genevieve who had told Claire about Henrietta.