The Promise (11 page)

Belle wasn’t able even to nod to show her appreciation that she was back with Mog and Garth.

‘Is the baby all right?’ she managed to ask as he used a little silver trumpet-like instrument to listen at her belly.

‘His heart is still beating,’ Dr Towle replied, patting her hand in sympathy for her anxiety. ‘But it is essential you stay in bed, as I suspect you have a couple of cracked ribs. I have strapped them up to enable them to heal. But there is little I can do about your shoulder; it is not broken – the pain you feel is the severe bruising from a heavy blow. You will be in pain for a few days, and it is quite common after such a shock to feel very low for a time. But all this will pass, and I shall be calling to see you every day.’

After giving Mog some further instructions, and some medicine to ease Belle’s pain, the doctor left.

‘You poor love,’ Mog said, bending over the bed and stroking Belle’s hair back from her face. ‘I just hope they catch that fiend that did this to you. Garth said one of the police told him there was a similar attack on a shopkeeper in Lewisham just last week. They think it was done by the same man.’

‘I thought he was going to kill me,’ Belle said weakly. ‘Did he smash up the whole shop?’

‘Garth said it was a mess, but men always exaggerate when they are angry. I’ll go up in the morning and see for myself and clean it up. But you won’t be going back there, my girl!’

‘Mr Stokes found me,’ Belle said. ‘Did he see the robber?’

‘Only a man fleeing up towards the heath,’ Mog said. ‘Apparently he was shutting up his shop as the man came haring out of yours, and at the same time a policeman came up the street. But Mr Stokes told Garth he thought you were dead at first.’

‘Don’t let’s tell Jimmy about this in our letters,’ Belle begged her. ‘I don’t want him worrying about me.’

‘I’ll need to talk to Garth about that,’ Mog said. ‘He’s so angry he wants to lash out. But I think you are right, telling Jimmy would serve no useful purpose.’

Belle began to cry and Mog perched on the bed. She couldn’t hug Belle for fear of hurting her more, so she just wiped away her tears.

‘There, there, ducks, Garth and I are here to look after you,’ she said soothingly.

‘I feel as if the bad times are coming back again,’ Belle sobbed. ‘First Jimmy enlisting and now this! I might have known the happiness couldn’t last.’

Chapter Six

Belle was woken by a sharp pang. There was nothing unusual in that – in the last two days since the attack she had grown used to being woken by pain. But this was different: it wasn’t coming from her ribs or shoulder, it was in her belly and her lower back.

It was still dark and she could see the faint glow around the edges of the curtains coming from the gas light out in the street. But the medicine Mog had given her had made her very groggy, and as the pain subsided she fell asleep again.

She was woken again by another pang. She didn’t know how long it had been since the previous one, maybe an hour, maybe minutes, but this time it was even stronger, enough to make her cry out. It seemed to build up to a peak, then slowly subside, and as it faded completely she knew what it was.

The baby was coming.

Lying there on her back, she put her hands on her belly, feeling the curve of it, and cried, knowing a baby couldn’t survive being born at a little less than six months.

In her mind’s eye she could see Miranda lying on the bed of cushions in the back room of the shop, looking exactly the way she felt now. Was this God’s judgment on her for helping Miranda? If so he was a cruel God, for all she had done was act as a nurse, she hadn’t made the abortion happen, or even been party to Miranda’s decision to have it. Both Jimmy and she had wanted this baby. It would have been loved and nurtured because both of them wanted to give it all they had not had themselves as children.

Or was this punishment for her former life as a whore?

Another pang came and she gripped on to the mattress as it engulfed her. Much as she wanted to stay silent, she couldn’t help but cry out, for she had never experienced pain as bad as this before.

Her bedroom door opened and Mog came in carrying a candle.

‘What is it, ducks?’ she asked.

‘It’s the baby,’ Belle gasped. ‘Help me!’

‘Oh my giddy aunt,’ Mog exclaimed, going over to the bed and setting the candle down. ‘How long have you been having pains?’

The pain subsided enough for Belle to tell her, but as the older woman listened she lit the gas light on the wall, got a clean sheet from a chest, folded it over and tucked it beneath Belle.

‘I’m just going to wake Garth up and send him for the doctor,’ she said, as ever calm even in a crisis. ‘I’ll dress and come right back to you. Just hold on, I won’t be long.’

Belle was vaguely aware of Garth speaking to Mog out on the landing. She heard his heavy step on the stairs and the door downstairs slam shut behind him. Mog came back to her soon after with a jug of hot water and some towels.

‘I would swing for that bastard who did this to you,’ she said as she washed Belle’s hands and face with a flannel. ‘But for now we’ve just got to get through this together.’

The pains came and went, each one stronger and stronger with less time between them. Mog held Belle’s hand, bathed her face with cool water and spoke soothingly, telling her the doctor would soon be here.

Belle could not respond, for even between pains she was bracing herself for the next one, and when it came it was white hot, a hideous agony which she thought might kill her.

Dr Towle arrived just as the baby began to come away. Belle saw Mog cover her face with her hands as he pulled back the bedclothes, and though Belle couldn’t see what they could, she could feel the warm slippery mass between her legs and the sensation of liquid flooding from her.

From then on everything became blurry and disjointed. The next thing she knew, the doctor was listening to her heart through his stethoscope.

‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Reilly,’ he said. ‘I hoped so much that the injuries you received wouldn’t result in this, but these things are out of our hands.’

She didn’t have to ask if the baby was dead, she knew it hadn’t stood a chance. ‘Was it a boy or a girl?’ she managed to get out.

‘A girl, but she was much too tiny to breathe,’ he said and his voice cracked with emotion.

Jimmy had hoped for a girl, he’d wanted to call her Florence. Tears ran down Belle’s face unchecked; she felt that everything had been taken from her.

‘Mrs Franklin and I will clean you up now and give you something to help you sleep,’ the doctor said as he took her pulse. ‘I wish it was in my power to take away your sorrow too, but I’m afraid only time will do that.’

Belle felt another rush of blood come from her, and she closed her eyes, not wishing to see the panic on Mog’s dear face.

It was ten in the morning when Mog accompanied Dr Towle downstairs to see him out. They were both tottering with exhaustion, Mog’s white apron was stained with blood, and the doctor looked less than his usual immaculate self for he had dark stubble on his face and his eyes were bloodshot.

The sky was dark grey and it was very cold. They could hear Garth moving barrels down in the cellar, as he’d left the door open.

‘Is she going to recover?’ Mog asked tremulously. Belle had lost a tremendous amount of blood, and at one point it looked as if there was no possible chance of saving her. But the doctor had packed her with gauze and now it was in the hands of God.

‘She’s young and strong,’ Dr Towle said with a deep sigh, as if he was trying to look for positives. ‘If she gets through the next twenty-four hours without a further haemorrhage and no infection sets in, then I think she will recover fully. I’m going to arrange for a nurse to be with her. You are admirable, Mrs Franklin, but you are exhausted now and Belle will need specialist care.’

Mog nodded. ‘Whatever is best for her. I couldn’t bear to lose her.’

‘Are you her aunt?’ he asked, looking down at her curiously. He knew that Mr Franklin was Jimmy Reilly’s uncle, but he’d sensed the deep love this small woman had for his patient, and it seemed much stronger than if they had been related just by marriage.

‘I was her mother’s housekeeper,’ Mog replied. ‘But I brought Belle up right from a baby.’

‘I see,’ he nodded. ‘Well, you did a fine job – she is a lovely young woman, and my wife tells me she is a very talented milliner. It is such a shame her husband has recently gone to France. I’m sure his presence here now would be very good for her.’

‘Should we try to get him home then?’ Mog asked. ‘Belle didn’t want him to know about the attack on her for fear of it worrying him, and I expect she’d say the same about this.’

‘Yes, but from what I’ve heard about Jimmy I’d say he’d be the kind to want to be here to comfort his wife. Obviously it will take time for him to be contacted and for him to get back here, but I do think it should be done.’

‘But how, doctor?’ Mog asked, wringing her apron in her hands in agitation. ‘I don’t know who to go to about it.’

‘Just tell me his regiment and other details and leave it with me. I have a little influence which I can use to get him back.’

After giving Mog instructions as to Belle’s care until the nurse arrived, and writing down Jimmy’s details, Dr Towle left, saying he would come back again in the evening.

Garth came into the kitchen as Mog was putting the soiled linen in the wash tub to soak. He looked over her shoulder at the cold water turning red and paled.

‘Is she going to pull through?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know.’ Mog turned to her husband and burst into tears.

She had heard him walking up and down the landing during the night, and it had helped her to know that he was as afraid as she was.

Garth put his arms around her and held her tightly. ‘Fate couldn’t be cruel enough to take her now, like this, not after all she’s been through and all she means to Jimmy and us,’ he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

‘I must get back to her,’ Mog said, straightening up and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Will you bring up some coal so I can light the fire in her room? It’s grown so chilly, and when the nurse gets here we can’t expect her to sit in a cold room.’

‘Do you ever think of yourself?’ he asked gently, touching her cheek affectionately. ‘You only had a couple of hours’ sleep before this happened. You look all in.’

‘I’ll be fine once I know she’s on the mend,’ Mog said.

He hugged her again and stroked her hair. ‘Go on up then and I’ll bring you some tea and do the fire for you.’

At eight that evening Mog was sitting in the easy chair in Belle’s room, watching the flickering flames of the fire.

Dr Towle had called in an hour earlier to repack Belle with gauze, and had been heartened by no further heavy blood loss and her stronger pulse. Because of this he sent Nurse Smethwick home, asking her to come back in the morning to relieve Mog. He also said he’d managed to get a message through to the commanding officer in Etaples and he felt it was likely Jimmy would be on the next ship back to Dover.

Mog could hear the wagons, carriages and the odd motor car pass out on the street. She heard someone with steel blakeys on their boots walk by, but the bar was much quieter than usual. She thought Garth must have told the customers to keep the noise down because of Belle. It had been such a long and distressing day. Smethwick, though clearly a very good nurse, was one of the bossiest women Mog had ever had the misfortune to meet. The first thing she demanded was that Mog remove all of what she called the ‘folderols’ from the bedroom, which included fancy cushions, lace bedside tablecloths, the hat stand which held around six pretty hats and innumerable scarves and the frilled counterpane. Mog pointed out that Belle would be shocked to find herself in a room stripped of all the things she loved, but the nurse insisted they harboured germs. And so it went on all day, with Mog being ordered hither and thither to do the woman’s bidding. Not once did she suggest Mog catch up on sleep, even though she was rocking on her feet with tiredness.

She even insisted Mog went out to buy some liver, which was to be lightly braised in milk and fed to Belle when she felt able to eat, to enrich her blood. Mog pointed out that Belle hated liver and she thought a glass of Guinness would do the same job in a more palatable way.

‘Give a sick woman alcohol?’ Nurse Smethwick retorted. ‘Whatever next!’

Mog avoided any further confrontation with her, but she planned to give Belle some Guinness next day if she was feeling like it, as it was one of her favourite drinks.

She had intended to catch forty winks by the fire, but now she could rest she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes closed. Getting up from her chair, she went over to check on Belle. In just the firelight and with one candle by the bed she couldn’t tell whether colour was coming back into her face, but she looked peaceful. Her dark hair was lank and tangled, and her lips looked cracked, but to Mog she was still a beauty. She remembered how she’d nursed her through measles when she was five. Mog had stayed in the darkened room with her constantly for two weeks, sponging her down to reduce the fever, terrified she might lose her sight as so many children did with the disease. Annie only ever came as far as the door to see how she was. She claimed it was because she didn’t want to risk spreading the disease, but Annie always had an excuse for not having normal maternal urges.

‘I ought to send her a telegram,’ Mog thought, feeling guilty that she hadn’t thought to do so after the attack and therefore prepared her for what had happened today.

Mog’s relationship with Annie had floundered back at the time the brothel had been burned down after Belle was abducted. Two years later, when Belle came back from France, they patched things up for her sake, and Mog had invited Annie to her wedding. She’d come to Belle’s too, and helped with the wedding arrangements, but in reality all they had was a shared past. Mog often wondered if she could claim that they were ever really friends. Looking back, it seemed far more of a mistress and servant partnership.