It was almost teatime by the time Ella arrived home and had a moment to read Flora’s letter:
Dearest Ella,
Forgive me for not writing to you before. I lost your full address, and only knew the area that you lived in. I should have sent this to the Red Cross, but so much has happened to me that I find myself ready to go off to France with my husband, Cyrus, before I have any time to make proper arrangements.
I cannot write everything here, as most of it is still very raw inside me and I cannot face putting it down on paper. My resolve to move forward and get on with my life will be broken, if I do.
But I have never forgotten our friendship, or you, and I so want us to be in touch.
Mags is soon to be my sister-in-law, as I write this, but as you know the circumstances of my family, you will realize this will drive a wedge between me and her, which saddens me, as she has been very good to me. I hope you will look her up and tell her that I will always be a friend to her.
I have to rush now, my dear friend, but what I am rushing to is happiness. I will send my address to Rowena as soon as I know it, and I have left instructions with her that if you ask for it, she is to give it to you. Then you can make your own mind up as to whether you want to contact me. I trust that you will, because if you are reading this, it will mean that you called at my house to see me.
I remain your loving friend, Flora.
As Ella lowered the letter to her knee, she wondered what had befallen Flors that it would cause her too much pain to relate it in a letter. And how it had come about that Mags was going to marry the horrid Harold, Flora’s brother. She was sure it must be him. Flora’s other brother was a timid soul, and was not well in his mind. Harold had been very taken with Mags when he and Flors had visited Mags in Blackburn.
Harold often made business trips there, as he had a part-ownership in a mill very near to the one owned by Mags’s family. Flors had asked Harold to take her and Ella up with him, so that they could meet up with Mags. It had been an amazing day. Mags’s home was beautiful and in a stunning setting, and her parents had made them very welcome. It had been at dinner that evening, when Harold had joined them, that she’d noticed how attracted to one another Harold and Mags were. Much to Flors’s consternation, as her brother was a monster. Poor Mags. I must try and contact her. It would be good to catch up with her again.
Sitting back on the bench, Ella lifted her face to the sun. The aromas from her rose garden calmed her. What a good job Paulo has done with the rosebed. It will always be a precious place for me, somewhere to sit and think of him.
That thought jolted through Ella. Sitting up straight, she wondered how she could feel such a calm acceptance flow over her. Paulo must not die, he must not! The anguish in her lifted her body. Standing now, she walked back through the French windows. Inside, the house was quiet. Paulo sat on a chair next to the fireplace, his eyes closed. Christophe, as always, lay still in his cot under the window, gazing into nothing.
As she looked down on his angelic face, her anguish increased. His arms were by his side, his legs straight out, relaxed. No part of his body moved. Not even his head, which she would expect to turn her way when she approached.
‘Christophe, Mama is here, darling.’
He gurgled, but still didn’t respond by moving or looking over to her. Paulo’s voice from behind her, had Ella turning round, as he said, ‘Ah, you’re in from the garden. Are you all right, my darling?’
‘Y . . . es, but . . .’
‘What is it? Are you having a sad moment?’
‘For Nanny? No. My heart is heavy with her loss, but I am glad she is at peace.’
‘What, then?’
Moving over to Paulo’s side, Ella bent and kissed his head. ‘I have many worries. I’ll sit next to you and tell you them all.’ Beginning with what the solicitor had told her, Ella found that Paulo was in agreement that she needed to go to Poland to find out the truth about her past, and what happened to her legacy. ‘But not yet, darling. Poland is – as the solicitor has told you – a dangerous place. The Russians have reached Warsaw, I read about it in my paper today.’
‘It has to be now, darling. Everything is right for it to be now. Besides, Krakow is a long way from Warsaw. Going now may be my only chance. If the Soviets win the battles that are raging, they may close the borders.’
‘I really don’t want you to go, my darling. Please listen to me. I have tried not to tell you, but I am feeling weaker by the day.’
‘Oh, my darling, I know. I – I don’t know how to help you more than we are doing already. I’ll go and see Dr Warner again and will see if he will call.’
‘But the cost—’
‘I know his potions are expensive, but we will get by. Maybe it won’t be too long before Nanny’s money is made available to me. And, Paulo, now that we have found Rowena, why don’t I go back out to work? And we could sell the car, too.’
‘But you aren’t strong, my darling. I don’t want—’ Another fit of coughing seized Paulo. His body was racked with the effort of trying to breathe.
‘Oh, my darling, my darling.’ Paulo collapsed back, his face a deathly, drained image of a death mask. ‘No! No, no, no. Paulo!’
Rushing to the bedroom, Ella dragged the cylinder of oxygen through to the lounge. Her breath came in short pants, and her heart banged against her chest. ‘Paulo – Paulo, breathe; breathe, my darling.’
After a few moments Paulo made a small noise. His face, tinged with blue veins, relaxed. ‘Paulo!’ Shaking him, Ella called his name over and over again. Gradually, the blue began to turn pink and the steady sound of the oxygen being taken in overcame Ella’s fear and helped her to cope.
She didn’t speak to Paulo again, but just laid him down, lifted his feet onto the end of the sofa and knelt beside him. Holding his hand, she stroked the raised veins and prayed.
With aches locking her joints, Ella woke a few hours later. Paulo was still breathing spasmodically and was sound asleep. Stretching herself to release the aches in her legs and arms, she rose stiffly and went to look into the cot. Christophe was sound asleep. Going back towards Paulo, she dragged some cushions onto the floor and lay down.
Weary almost beyond endurance, she tried to close her eyes, but her worries crowded in on her. How am I going to cope? With no allowance, the money I have will only pay for one visit and for the medicines that Dr Warner prescribes, besides keeping us for one month. Paulo’s pension is so small, it won’t stretch to keeping us. Yes, a job would help, but how would Rowena cope with episodes like tonight? And what of Christophe? He needs to see a doctor. Why? Why – with all that I have to contend with – do I have to have this extra worry over my son?
The morning brought no relief. Paulo was weakened by his experience, and Christophe didn’t respond to his feed. He simply lay in Ella’s arms, looking into her eyes.
As her arms held her son to her, she sensed that she was going to lose him, too. ‘Oh God, help me. Help me!’
‘W – what . . . is it . . . d – darling?’
Ashamed at having spoken aloud, Ella tried to cover it up. ‘Oh, nothing. I’m tired, and Christophe won’t suckle. That’s all. He mustn’t be hungry. I suppose we cannot force him.’
‘C – come here, d – darling.’
Taking Christophe over to where Paulo lay, Ella looked down at him and tried to smile. His words stopped her and showed her a truth she did not want to face.
‘What is wrong with our . . . our son? Ella? There is something.’
‘Oh, Paulo. I didn’t want to tell you, but I think he has floppy baby syndrome.’
‘What is that?’
‘It means his muscles are weak. Babies can grow out of it and become quite strong and lead normal lives, but it depends on what causes it. No one knows, but . . . well, some babies don’t— Oh, Paulo. I can’t bear it.’
‘Take him – take him to the doctor. Never . . . mind about me. Use what money we have for Christophe.’
‘I will. I didn’t want to, because I didn’t want to believe it. He seems so happy and content, I thought I had imagined it. But then I did the test. Watch. If I hold him with my hand under his stomach, everything about him just hangs there. There is no resistance. No trying to save himself by straining and protesting.’ Bringing Christophe close to her once more, Ella cradled him. ‘My baby. My son.’
Paulo gasped for breath. The sound of his rattling chest almost undid Ella. But then a new strength entered her. She had to be strong for her boys. She had to.
A week later, Ella had the worst day of her life.
A visit that morning to the doctor had confirmed her fears concerning Christophe. ‘I am sorry, my dear, but your child does show signs of having the worst possible form of floppy baby syndrome. He must have an underlying cause, but we don’t know enough about it to determine what treatment is best. The fact that he cannot use his mouth to suckle or to eat solids, as the muscles that he needs are not working properly, means there is very little hope. I just don’t know what to say.’
Shaking with the shock and realization of her deepest fears, Ella had somehow gathered the strength to attend Nanny’s funeral. Rowena had agreed to come to her home to take care of Paulo and Christophe, as neither was well enough to make the journey to her house.
And now as she stood by the grave, Ella’s heart screamed with pain, but not only for her loss. At a time when she should be able to recall memories of Nanny, her mind was a raging hell of fear, despair and agony for the future and what it held.
As the mourners moved away from the graveside, each one had a word with her. Matron from the home and a couple of the staff spoke kindly of their joy in having looked after Nanny, and what a gracious lady she was. An old neighbour, Mr Flynn, told her of how her nanny had been the kindest soul to him when he’d lost his wife. And a lady whom Ella found familiar, but couldn’t say why, told her that she and Nanny used to play cards together in their younger days. ‘But I moved away and we lost touch. I heard she had died and found out about today. I wished I had looked her up while she was alive.’
Ella tried to show compassion and patience to each person, but her emotions were so turbulent that what they said didn’t register properly.
In a daze she looked over at Mr Partridge as he approached her. His face looked even longer, greyer and more forlorn than she remembered. ‘My dear, do you think you could accompany me to my office? I have further news for you.’
She nodded, praying that what he had to say was good news.
As she sat opposite Mr Partridge in his office, she knew the news wasn’t good. His clearing of his throat resounded around the room, making Ella want to scream, ‘Don’t tell me!’ But she sat quietly, waiting.
‘There has been a development. I’m sorry, but it isn’t good news.’
Ella stiffened, trying to brace herself against another onslaught.
‘The son of Miss Machalski’s sister has been in touch. It appears that he found some papers amongst his mother’s effects, after she died. On them was our office address. And a letter telling him that he was the sole descendant of his Aunt Lonia. He has filed a claim on her estate.’
‘Oh? Can he do that?’
‘Yes, I am afraid so. Technically, Miss Machalski can leave her money and effects to whomever she wishes, but this young man is saying that his mother told him that she intended to leave everything to him. He is contesting the validity of the will, given that your nanny, as you call her, was unstable at the end.’
‘But wasn’t her will in place a long time ago?’
‘Yes, it was. But he will argue that she might have changed it in his favour, had she not become ill. It appears he visited her, while stationed here during the war. You were away. Then, when he was deployed, he wrote often to her. The matron of the home let him know about his aunt’s passing. He is unable to leave Poland at the moment.’
It felt to Ella as if someone had pulled the plug on her last hope. The money that she thought Nanny had left her had become a lifeline to the future for her. Their medical bills had escalated this last week. Money was draining from her like a river that has been released from its dam.
‘I just don’t know what I am going to do.’
‘Oh, my dear. I am so sorry. Here.’
Taking the large white hanky that Mr Partridge offered, Ella blew her nose loudly. ‘I’m sorry, you see . . .’ Why she blurted out all of her troubles, Ella didn’t know, but when she finally calmed down, Mr Partridge was looking at her in a kindly, concerned way.
‘I am so very sorry. That is more than anyone – let alone a young woman, as you are – should have to contend with. I wish that I could help. Have you tried some of the free hospitals, to see if they know of a doctor who would help you? There must be something out there.’
Regaining her dignity, Ella straightened. ‘No. But I will. Thank you.’
As she rose, Mr Partridge said, ‘Please try not to worry, but at the same time keep in mind that you may lose any case you put up against this young man. The courts often favour family and, well, men against women.’
‘I know. I won’t be contesting it. Please allow Nanny’s nephew to have whatever there is. He can take the money and any possessions, but he can never take the beautiful memories that Nanny gave me. Good day, Mr Partridge. And thank you.’
Sitting in her car, Ella wondered if it was feasible that she could go back to work. And if she did, how many hours could she do, and how much money would she bring in? Nurses were paid a pittance, as it was. And she wasn’t fully qualified. Could she pick up her training once more? But that would mean more expense, as books had to be paid for, and paper and pens, not to mention tuition fees. And what other work could she turn her hand to? Nothing. She knew nothing of office work or shop work. Maybe she could be a tutor. But often they were live-in positions in the country, where the children didn’t have access to good day-schools.
Getting into the car, she slumped over the wheel. It was no use. She needed money now. This minute. The car would have to go.
At least when Ella opened the door to her home, the same lovely atmosphere greeted her as there had been when she’d left Paulo and Christophe in her home with Rowena.
Rowena’s infectious laughter rang out and bounced off the walls. Paulo, too, was giggling, between coughs and gasps for air.
‘Missy Ella. Hello, girl. We were beginning to think you would never return. Not that it matters. I found some stewing meat on the cold slab in the pantry, and some veg, and I have a casserole on the go. And these boys have behaved well . . . Oh, honey child, come on – you cry all the tears you need to. Rowena won’t be leaving you. I’ll see to the dinner and clear up afterwards. You sit down with your lovely Paulo, girl.’
‘I – I’ve sold the car. I . . . there’s nothing coming from Nanny. And . . . and our child is going to die! Christophe will die . . .’
The room fell silent. A ringing started up in Ella’s ears. Her eyes blurred and then her vision went altogether, as she allowed herself to sink into the blessed peace and relief of the black hole that had opened up and swallowed her.
‘Come on, child, come on. Open your eyes.’
‘What happened?’
‘You fainted. You told us all this bad stuff, and then you went out like a light. And I’m not surprised, Missy Ella. That is more than any girl can be asked to bear. I’m sad for you, honey child.’
‘Paulo?’
‘I – I’m here, darling. Oh, Ella, come to me. My legs won’t work.’
In Paulo’s arms, Ella found some comfort. Nothing could really comfort her, but to know that she wasn’t alone helped.
‘We’ll get through this, my darling Ella. I’ll be there for you. I feel stronger today.’
Ella could only nod. Everything was falling apart, but they still had their love. They still had each other.
‘I will get Dr Warner to you tomorrow, darling. I will have enough from what the car fetched.’
‘Who did you sell it to, darling, and how much did they pay you? And why is there nothing to come from Nanny?’
She told him about the will being contested and then said, ‘As for the car, I called into the dealer that I bought it from, and he gave me a very generous seventy-five pounds.’
‘Maybe you shouldn’t have been so hasty, as the car was so valuable to us.’
‘We are desperate. We have so little left.’
The silence between them held all their worries.
Ella broke it. ‘I only have one chance, and I have to take it. I need to use some of that money to take me to Poland. I need to speak to my father – he has to help me.’
Paulo didn’t object.