Under the Apple Tree (52 page)

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Authors: Lilian Harry

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BOOK: Under the Apple Tree
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be all right.’

She went back to her work, hoping that what she had said

was true. However much the family rallied round to help, Jean’s path was not going to be an easy one to tread. Being

an unmarried mother, even in wartime when quite a few

young women were finding themselves in the same position,

was no picnic. There were plenty of people all too ready to

criticise, plenty who would turn the other way or cross the

street to avoid speaking to the girl whose sin was so obvious.

And having to manage on your own, with no breadwinner to

support the family, was so difficult that not many girls even

tried. They gave their babies up for adoption, hoping that

the new family would be able to give the child all that they

couldn’t provide, and then got on with their lives and tried

to forget.

I don’t know how you could forget though, Judy thought

as she went back to sorting children’s clothes. I don’t know

how you could ever forget having a baby.

When Polly came home from the Royal Beach that day she

found the whole family waiting for her, with Jean ensconced

in Dick’s armchair, looking pale and red-eyed. She stopped

in the doorway.

‘What’s up? What’s happened?’

‘It’s all right, Poll,’ Alice said quickly. ‘Nothing’s wrong.

Well,’ she glanced at Jean, ‘nothing too serious, anyway.

Jean’s been put out of her job, that’s what it is. It’s not as if it wasn’t expected.’

‘Put out? Oh Jean!’ Polly crossed the room quickly and

took the girl’s hands. ‘Didn’t they even give you proper

notice?’

Jean shook her head. ‘Miss Browning told me I was

getting embarrassing and I’d better go. She said she’d give

me a week’s wages, but I was so upset, I just rushed out. I

suppose I’ll have to go back for my cards.’

‘One of us will do that,’ Polly said firmly. ‘You don’t have

to go anywhere near the place again. Spiteful old cat!’

‘I don’t know why she was so nasty,’ Jean said woefully.

‘She seemed to understand at first, when we first heard about Terry. She was so nice. But since she found out about

the baby …’

The others glanced at each other. ‘Well, you’re going to

have to put up with a lot of that,’ Alice said reasonably.

‘You’ve got to get used to it. It’s the baby I’m sorry for.’

She stopped and bit her lip, and Jean looked up at her in

dismay.

‘You mean people will be nasty to her as well? My baby?

But it’s not her fault.’

‘Some people will be,’ Polly said. ‘There’s always some

people who take every chance of being spiteful. But you

don’t have to worry about them. Remember what we used to

say as kiddies? “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but

names will never hurt me!” That’s what you’ve got to

remember. And I think there’s going to be more than one

girl in your position before this war’s over, so we’re all going to have to be a bit more understanding. Anyway, that

doesn’t matter now. What we’ve got to do now is decide

what’s going to happen next.’

‘We’ve been talking about that,’ Cissie said. ‘We think

she ought to go out to Ashdown straight away. You said she

could be evacuated, didn’t you, Polly? And there’s a letter

for you here, look, with an Ashdown postmark. Maybe it’s

from Mrs Sutton herself with some news.’

‘You mean you’ve been sitting here all day and never

opened it?’ Polly snatched the envelope. ‘Honestly, I

wouldn’t have minded.’ She tore it open and scanned the

sheet of paper inside. ‘Yes, it is! She says she’s been talking to the vicar’s wife — Mrs Hazelwood - about Jean, and Mrs

Hazelwood says she can go there.’ She lifted her head and

looked at them with sparkling eyes. ‘To the vicarage itself.

Isn’t that kind of them!’

‘The vicarage?’ Jean repeated doubtfully. ‘Oh, I don’t

think - I mean, I hardly ever go to church. Do they know

about me?’ She touched her stomach. ‘Do they know about the baby?’

‘Of course they know about you. That’s why she’s offered

to have you.’ Polly glanced round and caught sight of Judy,

sitting in the corner trying to follow the excited chatter. She passed the letter across. ‘Read this, Judy. Isn’t it lovely?’

‘Yes,’ Judy said, but there was a tinge of uncertainty in

her voice. ‘Yes, it is. But - I don’t understand. They’ve

already got a houseful, with Mr Hazelwood’s old parents

and two Army officers billeted there. The only other room,

is Ben’s. What’s he going to do when he comes home from

school?’

Jean stared at her. ‘You mean they haven’t got room? I

can’t stay there?’

‘Of course you can,’ Polly said. ‘Mrs Hazelwood says so,

doesn’t she?’ She looked at Judy. ‘Didn’t you say he wanted

to go into the RAF?’

‘Yes, but he hadn’t even discussed it with his parents.

And he’s not old enough. I don’t understand.’ She looked at

the letter again. ‘Mrs Hazelwood says Jean can go out as

soon as she likes.’

‘Then that’s all right,’ Polly said, and turned back to Jean.

‘Is that what you want to do? Go out to Ashwood straight

away?’

Jean nodded. ‘Yes, but it would help if someone could go

with me. I mean, I don’t know anyone there and—’

 

‘I’ll go with you,’ Judy said, before anyone else could

speak. They weren’t even sure whether she had understood

Jean’s plea, or whether she was still speaking her own

thoughts. She looked at the letter in her hand and then at

Jean. ‘I’ll go with you. I can introduce you to everyone. I’m

not much use here, after all.’ And as they all looked at her,

opening their mouths to deny it, she added, ‘It’ll be nice to

see them all again anyway.’

Then, to herself she added, And I can find out what’s

happening to Ben.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jean and Judy travelled out to Ashwood the next day. The

Fosters had been taken aback and not very pleased to find

that the whole thing had been discussed and decided

without their presence, but as Jean had said, they’d made it

clear that they didn’t approve anyway, so what was the

point? ‘You’d rather I gave my baby away,’ she said,

wrapping her arms across her stomach. ‘You’d rather I went

away and had it and then came back and pretended it had

never happened. Well, I am going away and you can pretend

that if you want to, but I won’t be coming back. Not until I

can bring my baby with me.’

Mrs Foster had looked angry and told Jean that she

wasn’t going to be told what to do in her own house, and if

that was the way she felt she’d better pack her things and go.

And when Mr Foster tried to reason with her she had

turned on him asking how Jean could possibly keep the

baby, what would they live on and what, oh what would the

neighbours say when they saw her walking down the street

pushing a pram?

‘That was what finished it for me,’ Jean said, her face

white. ‘My own mother putting more store on what spiteful

cats like Mrs Barrow next door and Mrs Parry over the road

think than on what happens to her own daughter.’ She

looked at Cissie. ‘You’re my mum now, Mrs Taylor. You’re

my family.’

Cissie looked as if she might begin to cry, and Dick

cleared his throat and said gruffly, ‘You didn’t ought to talk

like that, Jean. They’re your mum and dad and nothing can

change that. But we’ll do what we can for you, all the same.

And I reckon it’ll be better for you when you get out to

Ashwood. There’s no need for folk there to know what’s

happened. No need to know you’re not married, I mean,’ he

added, glancing away from Jean’s plump figure.

‘No, there’s not,’ Alice said. ‘And if you’ve got a ring on

your finger, they won’t even wonder. Here.’ She pulled the

gold ring from her own finger and held it out. ‘Wear that.

That’ll put paid to any gossip. You can just tell them the

truth about what happened to Terry, and nobody will ask

any more questions.’

‘Mum!’ Cissie exclaimed, and Alice looked at her

defiantly.

‘All right, our Cis, you needn’t look like that. It’s not

your dad’s ring. It’s your gran’s - my mum’s. I’ve had it on

me finger since the day she died, but now I reckon it’ll do

more good passed down the family to Jean. I was going to

offer it to Terry anyway, so she’d have had it if he’d lived.’

Jean took the ring and stared at it. It was thin, its edges

soft with many years of wear, but it was still bright. Her

eyes filled with tears. ‘I can’t take this, Mrs Thomas.’

‘I’ve told you, I’d have given it to Terry anyway.’

Nobody knew if this were really true, but Alice’s look dared

them to question it. ‘Now, put it on - never mind if it feels

like a lie. You and Terry were married in the sight of God,

that’s how I look at it, and you’re one of the family now.

And no more calling me Mrs Thomas, neither. I’m Gran to

young Judy here and I’ll be Gran to you as well, all right?’

‘Yes, Mrs - Gran,‘Jean said, and her voice broke. ‘Thank

you. Thank you very much.’

Jean spent the night in Judy’s bed, while Judy slept on

cushions on the floor, and next morning they all walked

down to the little halt, carrying the two suitcases that held

all Jean’s belongings, with a few clothes pushed in for Judy.

She was going to stay a few days, just to see Jean settled in,

she said, but after the train had pulled away Polly remarked

to Cissie that she wouldn’t be surprised if the girl didn’t stay on. ‘She’s never properly settled back home, you know. She

seems to feel left out of things so much. It was different out

in the country, where there’s not so many people anyway. I

reckon she felt easier there, somehow.’

‘I thought she might have got her hearing back by now,’

Cissie said. ‘The last doctor she saw said there was nothing

really wrong with her ears. It was to do with the blast - a

sort of shock.’

‘I can tell you what it is,’ Dick said. ‘It’s nerves. It’s like she doesn’t want to hear any more.’

‘Dick!’ Cissie said. ‘How can you say that? Of course she

wants to hear! It’s awful for her, being deaf. Anyone can see

that.’ a

‘I don’t mean it’s deliberate. She can’t help it. But it’s like we had in the First War - shell-shock. That night it

happened,’ he looked at Polly, ‘there was a lot of noise,

wasn’t there? Explosions and ack-ack and planes going over,

all that sort of thing.’

‘Of course there was. And buildings crashing down, and

flames crackling and roaring - no end of din. But—’

‘And then you were buried and she thought you were

dead. Well, I think she was deafened to begin with, same as

a lot of people are when bombs drop, but it didn’t wear off

like it usually does because she found out that if she was

deaf she didn’t have to hear all those things that reminded

her of when she thought you’d been killed.’ He stopped.

‘You don’t have to stare at me like that. I just think that’s

what it is, that’s all. I’ve thought so all along, to tell you the truth. And you know what she’s always been like about

being shut in small spaces. Well, I reckon that was what it

felt like to her then. Shut in, and all that din going on round her.’

‘Dick!’ Cissie said again. ‘Wherever did you get all them

ideas?’

‘I heard a talk about it on the wireless. This what d’you

call ‘em, psychologist, he was talking about nerves and what we used to call shell-shock, and the way he explained it, I

thought, That’s what’s happened to our Judy. Only it was

just after that I got pneumonia so I never got a chance to say

nothing, and I didn’t think you’d believe me anyway. But I

think that’s what it is, all the same.’

‘I suppose it might be,’ Polly said thoughtfully. ‘But if it

is, will she ever get better? I mean, if there’s nothing

actually wrong, and she doesn’t know she’s doing it, how

can she ever stop? I can’t see her believing it, Dick. She’d be ever so upset if you told her she could hear if she wanted to.

She’d think you were saying she was putting it on.’

‘That’s why I’ve never said nothing,’ he said. ‘And I

don’t know what would make her better. Maybe another

shock, but I don’t know what sort. Bombs’d only make it

worse.’

‘Rest and peace and quiet, that’s what’ll help her,’ Alice

said firmly. ‘I don’t know if Dick’s right or not, but I do

know they’re what our Judy needs most. I hope she does

decide to stay out in the country. It’s the best thing for her, whichever way you look at it.’

Judy thought so too, as the train chuffed to a halt at

Ashdown station. She stood up and got Jean’s suitcases

down from the rack, then helped her drag them out on to

the platform. They stood for a moment breathing in the

fresh, warm air, and Jean smiled.

‘It’s lovely,’ she said, turning to face Judy so that her lips

could be read. ‘I can hear birds singing - oh, Judy, I’m

sorry!’ She put her hand to her mouth. ‘I never meant—’

‘It’s all right.’ Judy wasn’t sure what she’d said anyway,

only that it was clearly something to do with hearing. She

picked up the cases. ‘Come on. It’s not far to walk.’

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