The rest of the journey took another five minutes. Drawing up outside the Royal, Helen slammed on the brakes and stalled for the first time. Pulling on the handbrake, she jumped out of the driver’s seat.
Dr Parker was already helping Polly out of the back.
Helen ran ahead, up the main steps, and marched straight over to the receptionist.
‘Call Dr Billingham. Tell him it’s an emergency.’
The young receptionist recognised Helen, although she had never seen her look so dishevelled. Her mascara was smudged. And was that a huge rip up her dress?
‘Tell him it’s Miss Crawford – Charles’s daughter – and that I’ve a friend who needs urgent care.’ Helen turned around to see Dr Parker and Polly making their way into the main foyer.
Helen looked at Polly. One hand was gripping John’s arm, the other was splayed out on her stomach. She had what could only be described as a fierce look on her face.
‘Where are you going to take her?’ Helen shouted out to Dr Parker.
‘Straight to theatre.’ He nodded ahead.
‘I’m getting Dr Billingham. I’ll tell him to meet you down there,’ Helen said before turning back to the receptionist, who was in the middle of relaying verbatim what she had been told to say.
Helen snatched the phone off her.
‘Dr Billingham. Helen Crawford here. Listen, I need you to drop everything and get down to theatre. I’ve a friend there. She’s about three months gone.’
She listened for a moment.
‘No bleeding, but it sounds like her waters broke. John’s with her.’
She gave the phone back to the receptionist.
‘You all right, miss?’ the receptionist asked.
‘Course I’m all right,’ Helen snapped.
She stood and thought for a moment.
‘Get me an outside line,’ she demanded.
The receptionist flicked a switch and handed her the receiver.
Helen leant over the counter and dialled.
‘Hello, Eddy? Is Grandfather in? Good, good, so the car’s there? Good. Listen, I need you to do me a favour. Is the driver still there? Can you tell him to go to 34 Tatham Street in the east end and pick up Mrs Agnes Elliot and her daughter-in-law Miss Isabelle Elliot. Tell them there’s been a bit of an emergency and that Mrs Elliot’s daughter, Polly, has been taken to the Royal. But please tell them not to panic. I’m sure everything’s going to be OK.’ Helen crossed her fingers. She was anything but sure.
Handing back the phone, Helen forced out a civil ‘Thank you’ to the receptionist and went to sit down on one of the chairs in the reception area.
Suddenly, she felt exhausted.
When Mr Havelock’s black Jaguar pulled up outside the Elliot household, all the neighbours came to their doors to find out what the occasion was. Seeing the look on Agnes’s face after opening the door and speaking to the smartly dressed chauffeur, they went back inside. This was not a celebratory visit from some bigwig.
Most watched from behind curtains as Agnes and Bel hurried out of the house.
Joe stood in the doorway with Lucille next to him. Both sombre.
The car was just pulling away when Pearl came hurrying out of the Tatham.
She spoke briefly to her daughter before stepping back and watching the car drive off.
Seeing the back of her daughter’s head through the Jaguar’s small rear window, Pearl felt sick to the pit of her stomach. If Isabelle hadn’t been with Agnes, and there wasn’t an emergency, she would have pulled her daughter out of the vehicle with her own bare hands.
Pearl shook her head, trying to rid herself of the sickening thought that by getting into the car belonging to that man, Isabelle was being taken away from her.
And for the first time, Pearl worried about the safety of her daughter should Charles Havelock ever find out about her. His illegitimate child. A child who was proof of the monster he really was.
‘She’s going to be all right, Agnes.’ Bel held her mother-in-law’s hand tightly. ‘Trust me. I know Polly and she’s a fighter. She’s tougher than everyone thinks.’
Agnes looked at Bel. ‘Do yer think so?’ She shook her head. ‘I think the girl puts on a good show, but underneath it all, she’s as soft as clarts.’
She turned and stared out of the window. She recalled her daughter’s words from the other day – that having Tommy’s baby made her feel as if she could really keep on going if anything happened to him.
The words had jarred then; now they were clanging loud and clear in her head. The worry she had pushed under the carpet was leaping back up at her. If Polly lost Tommy’s baby – and he himself never made it back – would her daughter really have the will to carry on? Agnes knew her daughter inside out, but on this score, she was not so sure.
Agnes turned her attention to the driver.
‘Miss Crawford didn’t tell yer anything else?’ she demanded.
‘Sorry, ma’am, no, she didn’t.’ The chauffeur kept his eyes on the road.
‘This is my fault,’ Agnes mumbled. ‘I should have made her stop working at that bloody yard. I knew it was too much. I should have put my foot down.’
Bel looked at Agnes. It was pointless reminding her mother-in-law that even if she had tried harder to get Polly to stop work, she wouldn’t have succeeded. Polly was her own woman. She always had been.
‘Can yer not go any faster?’ Agnes leant forward so that she was practically cheek to cheek with the driver.
‘Agnes.’ Bel gently pulled her back onto the seat.
‘I should never have had that bleedin’ tea party,’ Agnes said. ‘It’s brought bad luck.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Bel said. ‘Pol was saying how lovely it was, just you two, mother and daughter, chatting. Your tea together did good – not bad.’
Agnes didn’t answer, just stared out of the car window.
As they drove up Toward Road she saw yet another bombsite – it was as if the town was infested with giant molehills.
‘Bloody madman!’ Agnes suddenly spat out. ‘It’s his soddin’ fault.’
Bel looked at Agnes. It was rare to hear her swear.
‘The poor girl’s been running to ’n from the shelter at all hours of the night … She’s been worried sick about Tommy. Even if she doesn’t show it …’ Her face was pure fury. ‘And as for the poor bab – scared stiff before it’s even born.’
Bel took hold of Agnes’s hand again, knowing she just needed to be allowed to rant, to get it all out as she always told them to do whenever they were angry or upset.
Afterwards, as they sat in a tense silence, Bel had to admit to herself that she too felt terribly guilty. She had been jealous of Polly for the first time in all the years they had known one another. Or rather, she’d been jealous of Polly’s pregnancy. Now this had happened, she somehow felt culpable.
Logically, Bel knew she was being irrational. Being jealous couldn’t cause Polly to miscarry. But, she wondered as the car trundled towards the hospital, if she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her own selfish thoughts about her failure to fall pregnant, she might have seen the warning signs that something was amiss.
‘Mrs Elliot … Bel.’ Helen hurried over to meet them both as they ran into the main foyer.
‘Is she all right?’ Agnes demanded.
‘Yes, yes, Polly’s going to be all right,’ Helen said.
‘And the baby?’ Bel asked. ‘Is the baby all right?’
‘That’s something I’m not so sure about,’ Helen admitted. ‘It looks as though Polly’s waters broke.’
‘What do yer mean, her waters broke? That doesn’t make sense. It’s too early. Far too early,’ Agnes said.
Helen looked from Agnes to Bel, her expression equally perplexed.
‘I know. I’ve no idea. All I know is that Dr Parker was on hand as soon as she became unwell and we managed to get her to the hospital straight away and they took her down to theatre to see if they could see what’s wrong.’
‘She’s having an operation?’ Agnes said, panic-stricken.
‘I’m not sure if they’re actually operating on her,’ Helen said. ‘Or if they just need to have a look, as it were.’ She looked at Bel for help.
‘They’ll be looking to see if they can work out why her waters broke, Agnes. Perhaps try and stop it.’ Bel looked at her mother-in-law.
‘But if her waters have broken, that means the bab’s coming, doesn’t it?’ Agnes demanded.
No one said anything.
They didn’t have to.
They were all thinking the same.
Agnes, Bel and Helen waited in a private room that would later be charged to Mr Havelock. As would all the medical costs. If he objected, Helen would pay out of her own pocket, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t.
‘Are you sure you won’t let me get you both some sandwiches?’ Helen asked.
‘No, thank you, pet,’ Agnes said, ‘this tea’s all I’m wanting. Thank you anyway.’
Helen looked at Bel, who shook her head and forced a smile.
‘All right, but I’m going to go and get us a fresh pot and I’ll see if there’s an update while I’m out.’ She looked at Agnes’s and Bel’s upturned faces. Their heartbreak was plain to see.
As Helen left the room and walked to the canteen, she thought how lovely it must be to have a family that was so normal. So caring. So loving.
‘Helen!’
It was John.
She turned around.
‘Oh John, thank God you’re here.’
She took a deep breath.
‘Please tell me the baby’s all right?’ Her eyes bore into John’s.
Pleading.
Willing him to give her the answer she so desperately wanted – needed – to hear.