A Cuckoo in Candle Lane (10 page)

By early afternoon Elsie’s legs were feeling the strain as she trod heavily up the stairs again. Peggy had called earlier offering to help, and soon after that Nelly Cox. She tightened her lips. A few others had been round, but it soon became obvious that they were only after gossip.

Christ, she thought, it hadn’t taken long for the news to spread that Ruth’s husband had run out on her. Still, there were some good neighbours in Candle Lane, the salt of the earth most of them, but knowing what a private person Ruth was, she had assured both Peggy and Nelly that she could manage.

Now she quietly entered Ann’s room and sat down beside Sally, gently bathing her forehead with a damp cloth.

‘Mum, my head hurts,’ she whimpered, her eyelids beginning to flicker.

‘Shh, darling.’ Elsie soothed. ‘You’ve had a nasty bump, but rest quietly and you’ll soon feel better.’

Sally turned her head, groaning with pain at the sudden movement. ‘Where’s me mum? I want me mum.’

‘It’s all right, darling, you’ll be able to see her soon. She’s not far away, just next door in Arthur’s room.’

‘Why can’t she come in here to see me? Is there something wrong with her?’ she asked anxiously, struggling to sit up but falling back on the pillows, her face contorted with pain.

‘There, there, it’s nothing to worry about,’ Elsie crooned. ‘Your mum’s just a bit poorly, that’s all.’

She watched Sally trying to fight the exhaustion that clouded her eyes, relieved when with a sigh she sank into her pillows, almost immediately falling asleep again.

Poor little love, she thought, quietly closing the door and making her way to Arthur’s room, wrinkling her nose at the smell that assailed her nostrils as she entered. Shaking her head sadly, Elsie approached the bed. ‘Come on, dear, let’s get you nice and dry,’ she urged, gently raising Ruth’s arms to take off her wet nightdress.

There was no resistance when she rolled her first to one side, then the other, deftly whipping away the sodden sheet. The same procedure was carried out in reverse and, as she lowered one of her own ample nightdresses over Ruth’s head, she tried to get some response from her friend. ‘Sally woke up just now, she looks a lot better and I think she’ll be able to pay you a visit soon.’

‘She just stares into space, Bert!’ Elsie exclaimed on returning to the kitchen, the sopping sheets tucked under her arm. ‘I’ll give these a soak. Poor Ruth, she must be in a bad way to wet the bed.’

‘Elsie, are you sure you’re not taking on too much? How are you going to cope if Ruth carries on like this?’

‘I’ll manage, and anyway, I’m sure she’ll be all right soon. What else could I do, Bert? She’s my friend and I couldn’t let her go into the loony hospital, I’d never forgive myself.’

‘I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, but I’ve got to go to Richmond this evening. We’ve been asked to give an estimate for quite a big job.’ He shook his head worriedly as he studied her face. ‘You look tired, love.’

‘I’ll be fine, stop worrying.’ She stood on tiptoe, snaking her arms around his neck, and holding her face up for a kiss.

Bert grinned, and putting his hands under her arms, lifted her up effortlessly. With her feet dangling about nine inches from the floor, Elsie pounded playfully on his chest. ‘Put me down, you brute,’ she joked.

He pulled her towards him and planted a smacking kiss on her lips, before lowering her to the floor. ‘There, you little spitfire,’ he laughed, patting her on her backside. ‘I’m off, I’ll see you later.’

Elsie sat by Sally, deep in thought. It had been two days now and Ruth was showing no signs of improvement. She had just changed the sheets again and had managed to get her to drink a little soup, but there was still no response. It was like looking after a rag doll. If Ruth didn’t snap out of it by tomorrow, she feared the doctor would insist that she be admitted to the psychiatric hospital. She felt helpless. How could she protect her friend?

Puffing out her cheeks, she glanced at the bedside clock. The kids would be home from school soon and she still had to get the dinner on. ‘Hello,’ she smiled, as Sally suddenly opened her eyes. ‘Are you feeling any better?’

‘Yeah, me head doesn’t hurt so much now,’ she answered, struggling to sit up. ‘Can I see me mum?’

Elsie looked into Sally’s worried eyes. It had been the devil of a job to keep her in bed for the last forty-eight hours and she was running out of excuses. ‘Look, pet, your mum still isn’t very well, but I’ll take you in to see her. Don’t worry if she seems a bit strange, she may not talk to you or anything, but that’s because she’s very tired. Now come on, I’ll help you up, you may feel a bit giddy at first.’

‘There now,’ Elsie said as they stood beside Ruth. ‘She’s asleep, so we had better not disturb her.’

‘But she’s got her eyes open. Can I stay in here, please? I’ll be ever so quiet, honest,’ Sally appealed, her voice high.

Ruth stirred and Elsie’s heart leaped. Was that a flicker of response in her eyes? Was it Sally’s voice she was responding to? ‘It looks like your mum’s waking up, Sally. I tell you what, sit in that chair and you can talk to her. She might be a bit muzzy-headed, darling, but don’t let it worry you.’

‘Mum, it’s me, are you all right?’ Sally asked worriedly as she leaned over in the chair, grasping her mother’s hand.

Elsie watched as Ruth turned her head, her face no longer glazed but filled with confusion. ‘Sally,’ she croaked. ‘Sally, is it really you?’

‘Yes, Mum, of course it is.’

There was a choking sound followed by a loud wail, and tears spurted from Ruth’s eyes. Her voice rose in anguish. ‘You’re alive!’ she cried. ‘Oh, my baby, you’re alive!’

‘Mum, Mum, don’t cry,’ Sally begged, throwing herself onto the bed and into her mother’s arms.

Elsie felt a lump in her throat as she watched them clinging to each other, her own eyes filling with tears. Thank God, she thought, thank God.

A week later Sally was sitting at the kitchen table, and other than the sore bump on her head, she was fully recovered.

‘So your mum’s all right now, Sal?’

‘I dunno, Ann, she still won’t get out of bed and she just wants to sleep all the time.’

‘Yeah, and it’s my bed she won’t get out of. I’m fed up with sleeping on the sofa.’

‘You selfish pig, Arthur, no wonder you can’t make any friends,’ Ann snapped, glaring at her brother.

‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong, clever clogs. I’ve got lots of friends now and mum said I can go camping with them in August – so there!’ he shouted, sticking out his tongue and wagging it at his sister.

‘Oh, you make me sick,’ Ann said huffily, rising from her chair. ‘Come on, Sally, let’s go upstairs to my room.’

‘Huh, well at least you’ve got a room to go to, even if you are sharing it with her. It’s all right for you.’

‘Arthur,’ Sally placated, ‘I’m sorry that you’ve got to sleep on the sofa, but I’m sure it won’t be for much longer.’

He lowered his head, avoiding her eyes. ‘Yeah, right,’ he mumbled.

Following Ann upstairs, she wished her mum would get out of bed so they could go home. She liked being with Ann, and Elsie was lovely, but when Bert came home she felt sick with nerves, especially when he pulled Ann onto his lap. Her heart would pound uncomfortably, wondering if he would do the same naughty things as Uncle Harry.

‘Arthur really gets on my nerves,’ Ann said grumpily, plonking herself on the side of the bed. ‘Still, mum said the doctor’s due in the morning and he might let you come back to school.’

Sally hung her head as she perched beside her friend. She didn’t care about school; she just wanted her mum to get better. It was worry and shock that had caused Ruth’s illness, she had overheard Elsie telling Bert. And that’s my fault, she thought guiltily. First I sat on me uncle’s lap so he did naughty things, and Mum was really upset about that. Then soon after me dad left because he can’t stand the sight of me.

Her mind grappled with the memory of something her dad had shouted, something that had puzzled her. She played the scene over in her mind and at last the memory returned. ‘What’s a cuckoo, Ann?’

‘It’s a bird, I think. Why do you want to know?’

‘Me dad said he was landed with a cuckoo in his nest and I think he was talking about me.’

Ann scratched her head. ‘What a funny thing to say. Why would he call you a cuckoo? Here, hold on a minute, I’ve got a book about birds somewhere. Perhaps we can look it up.’

She scurried across the room, her neck craning as she surveyed the rows of neatly laid out books. ‘Here it is,’ she said, returning to sit on the bed and flicking the pages, ‘slim and long-tailed like a medium-sized falcon. It inhabits woodland, farmland, heath and scrub.’ She turned to gaze at her friend. ‘Well, that’s not much help, is it?’

The door opened and Elsie poked her head into the room. ‘Your mum’s gone off to sleep, Sally, so don’t disturb her. I’m just going down to get the dinner ready.’

‘Wait a minute, Mum,’ Anne called. ‘Do you know anything about cuckoos?’

‘They’re birds.’

‘We know that, but what does it mean if someone says they’ve got one in their nest?’

‘What! Where did you hear that? Who said it?’ Elsie asked, her voice high.

‘Me dad,’ Sally answered. ‘He told Mum he was leaving ’cos she’d landed him with a cuckoo.’

Elsie ran a hand over her face before lifting veiled eyes, and gulping audibly she said, ‘I don’t know what he meant, but I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.’ Her head then disappeared abruptly, and it wasn’t long before they heard her heavy tread going downstairs.

Sally sat swinging her feet, gazing at the floor, her hands clutched between her knees. Why had Elsie acted so strangely? She looked almost frightened by her question.

‘I’ve got something to tell you, Ruth’ Elsie said later that evening, sitting on the side of Arthur’s bed. ‘It’s something Sally asked me about, and I didn’t know what to say.’

Ruth sighed wearily, wishing that Elsie would leave her alone. She was constantly coming in to chat to her, trying to arouse her interest, but she didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think. All she wanted to do was sleep – it was her only escape.

‘Did you hear what I said, Ruth?’

‘Yeah, all right, Elsie. What did Sally want?’

‘She asked me what it means if you’ve got a cuckoo in your nest.’

Ruth stiffened. ‘Oh no … please, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m tired, just let me sleep.’

‘Now come on, snap out of it, love. You heard what the doctor said. If you don’t pull yourself together he’ll have you admitted to the psychiatric hospital. Is that what you really want? You’ve got to talk – get it all off of your chest, and who would you rather talk to – me, or a psychiatrist?’

Lying quietly, Ruth found that Elsie’s words were penetrating the lethargy that clouded her mind, making her limbs feel like leaden weights. Would it help? she thought. Would talking about her secret make it any easier to bear? ‘Sally ain’t Ken’s child,’ she suddenly blurted out, and somehow just saying the words lifted the burden a little.

‘I think I’d already guessed that. Would you like to tell me about it?’

‘Yeah, I think so, but you’re going to be disgusted with me. I’m a bad person, Elsie.’

‘No, you’re not. We all make mistakes, Ruth, and nobody’s perfect.’

‘But I’m really bad. You see, it happened when Ken was posted overseas during the war. I hadn’t had a letter from him for nearly eighteen months and it was awful, Elsie, I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. I was so lonely too. Then one of the girls I worked with on the buses persuaded me to go to a dance and I … I er … met a bloke.’ Her fingers picked at the blankets nervously, too ashamed to look Elsie in the eye. ‘His name was Andy and he was lovely. Tall, with curly red hair and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose. And his smile, it was so cheeky and infectious.’ She sighed, her eyes clouding. ‘We went out together a few times while he was on leave, and … well, one thing sort of led to another.’

‘And you got pregnant,’ Elsie murmured.

‘Yeah, but by the time I found out, he’d rejoined his unit.’ Shaking her head sadly she added, ‘And I never saw him again.’

‘Did he know you were pregnant, Ruth?’

‘I wrote to tell him, care of his regiment, but just after that Ken came home on leave. There was no way I could hide it from him, Elsie, I was starting to show.’ Her voice rose. ‘Do you know, he was lovely then. Of course he was furious at first, and we had a huge row, but in the end he said he couldn’t live without me. He promised that he’d take the child on and bring it up as his own.’

‘What did you do about Andy?’

‘When Ken’s leave was over I sent another letter to Andy. I lied – told him that I wasn’t pregnant, that it had been a false alarm. He must ’ave been relieved because he confessed that he was married too, with a small son, and like me he didn’t want to break up his marriage.’ She slumped back onto the pillows. ‘That was the last contact I had with him, and I don’t even know if he survived the war.’

‘What happened when Ken came home again?’ Elsie asked.

‘When Sally was born a redhead I didn’t realise the effect it would ’ave on Ken. He didn’t see her until he was demobbed, and after just one look at her, he went absolutely mad. He was convinced that nobody would believe she was his child and he became really deranged. Every time anyone looked at her he imagined they were smirking. Then he started saying his friends were making sly innuendoes. In the end he insisted that we move away from Balham.’