The Throwaway Children (8 page)

‘I don’t know how to use one of these,’ Gran protested, but John said, ‘It’s easy, Mrs Sharples. Just make sure you hold it still and press the button.’

Then it was over. Mum and Uncle Jimmy got into the car and were driven round the corner to the Red Lion, the rest of the guests following on foot.

Lily took Rosie’s hand and, calling to Rita, set off in the other direction, back to her own home in Hampton Road. Rosie skipped cheerfully along beside her. She hadn’t been disappointed in the wedding. Several of the ladies she didn’t know had told her how pretty she looked. No one had said it to Rita.

When they reached the house, they found the party tea waiting. Before the girls had got up that morning, Lily had put a white cloth on the table in the front room, and had laid out plates and glasses. On each plate was a piece of chocolate, and in the middle of the table was a jug of orange squash.

‘Now, Rita,’ Lily said, ‘you come and help me.’ They went into the kitchen and Rita was given a plate of sandwiches to carry through. There was a cake as well, and when they had eaten all that, Lily gave Rita a shilling and sent her to the corner shop for ice cream.

Later, when the children were safely in bed, Lily sat in her armchair and thought about the day. The weather had been perfect, the sun shining, and Mavis looking happier than Lily had seen her for years. The tiredness that had left her pale throughout her pregnancy seemed to have left her, and she’d looked blooming with health as she’d taken Jimmy’s hand and walked into the register office. Lily poured the last of the orange squash into a glass and raised it in a toast.

‘Here’s to you, my darling girl,’ she whispered. ‘I wish you every happiness.’ But even as she said it, Lily knew that the life Mavis had chosen was not going to be an easy one. ‘And I’ll keep your girls safe until they can come back to you, however long that is.’

On Monday it was back to school, but the girls had lots to tell the other children. Lily had explained to Rita and Rosie that when two people got married they went away together for a few days to have a little holiday on their own.

‘It’s called a honeymoon, and that’s why Mummy and Uncle Jimmy have gone to the seaside by themselves. They’ll be back on Saturday and I’m sure Mummy’ll be straight round to tell you all about it.’ She was going to say that perhaps Mum would bring them a stick of rock as a present, but she didn’t, in case Mavis didn’t.

After Lily had dropped the children off at school on Monday morning she went round to Baillies, the grocer’s.

‘How did the wedding go?’ Fred’s wife, Anne, emerged from the back of the shop. ‘You had a lovely day for it. I bet the little girls enjoyed it.’

‘They certainly did,’ Lily agreed, ‘it
was
lovely.’

‘Where’ve they gone for their honeymoon?’ Anne asked.

‘Southend,’ answered Lily. ‘Be nice there if this weather holds.’

‘Anything else I can get you?’ asked Fred when he’d wrapped her ration of cheese and carefully placed three eggs into her shopping basket.

‘No thanks, Fred, that’s all for today.’

Lily never saw the car that hit her. Her mind still on the wedding, she walked out into the street, straight into its path. There was the squeal of brakes, as Lily and her shopping were thrown up over the bonnet and thudded onto the windscreen. She made no sound, but pedestrians in the street shrieked as they ran to help, or simply stood, transfixed with horror at what they had just seen.

Fred Baillie, hearing the commotion, ran out of his shop and found the driver of the car out on the pavement, his face pale with fright, his hands shaking, saying over and over, ‘Not my fault! She just stepped out. Right in front of me. Just stepped out.’

Lily had slid off the car and was now lying face down in the gutter, blood running from a cut on her head, and one of her legs bent back at an alarming angle. Her eyes were closed and, though people were gathered round her, no one moved to touch her.

‘It’s Lily Sharples,’ cried Fred Baillie. ‘Is she dead?’

‘Wouldn’t know, mate,’ said a small man in overalls who had been peering down at her and now drew hastily back. ‘Looks like it.’

Fred Baillie bent down and lifted Lily’s wrist. He’d been an air-raid warden during the war, and he was used to dealing with the injured and the dead. He found a slight pulse and looked up at the circle of faces. ‘She’s alive. I’ll go and ring for an ambulance from my shop. Don’t move her.’

‘Shouldn’t we try and make her more comfortable?’ suggested a woman. ‘I mean, she’s face down in the gutter. If we just try to turn—’

‘No,’ Mr Baillie insisted. ‘Don’t touch her. I’ll call an ambulance and find a blanket to put over her, but then we leave it to the ambulance men. They’ll know what to do.’ When he was sure the ambulance was on its way and knew where to come, he went back outside and gently laid a blanket over Lily’s still form. He couldn’t hear her breathing, there seemed to be no movement of her chest, but he had definitely felt a pulse and could only hope that she would hold on until the ambulance arrived.

A young police constable had appeared and was speaking to the pale-faced driver. ‘If you could just tell me your name, sir,’ he said, ‘and then tell me exactly what happened here.’

‘Sidney Short. It wasn’t my fault, officer, she simply stepped right out in front of me. I hadn’t a chance of stopping… right out in front of me. Just stepped out.’

The constable took out his notebook and licking his pencil, said, ‘Does anyone know who she is? Did anyone else see what happened here?’

‘Her name’s Lily Sharples,’ supplied Fred Baillie. ‘The ambulance’ll be here directly.’

The constable turned his attention to him. ‘Did you see the accident, sir?’

‘No,’ admitted Fred, ‘but she’d just left my shop when it happened.’ As he spoke he reached down and picked up Lily’s basket from where it had fallen, leaving a smear of broken eggs on the pavement. He glanced into the empty basket and then round on the road. The cheese had disappeared.

At that moment they heard the clang of the ambulance bell. Yet again people paused and turned to see what was happening. This was more excitement than the street had seen since the last raid in 1944. The little crowd gathered again as the ambulance men jumped out and hurried across to the still form in the gutter. One bent down and felt for a pulse and when he succeeded in finding the faint throb under her chin, he said softly, ‘She’s still alive, Ernie. Get the stretcher.’

‘Right-ho, Jack.’ Ernie hauled a stretcher out of the back of the ambulance and laid it on the pavement. Gently the ambulance man lifted Lily’s hair and looked at the head wound. It was still bleeding and her hair was matted with blood. Very carefully he placed his fingers onto her neck, feeling the line of vertebrae at the top of her spine. She moaned a little but didn’t open her eyes, drifting off into unconsciousness again.

‘As much as we can do here, Ernie,’ Jack said straightening up. ‘Let’s get her aboard and back to casualty. You, constable, give us a hand. You support her head… don’t let it loll as we lift her onto the stretcher.’

The young constable hesitated and Fred Baillie said, ‘I’ll do it. I know how from the war.’

With extreme care the two ambulance men lifted the inert form of Lily Sharples onto the stretcher, with Fred Baillie holding her head as straight and level as he could.

‘Well done, mate,’ Jack said as they finally slid her into the back of the ambulance and strapped her in. ‘Know her name, do you?’

‘It’s Lily Sharples,’ replied Fred.

When the ambulance had driven off, Fred looked at the shaken Sidney Short and said, ‘Think you’d better come and sit down in my shop, mate. My missus’ll make you some tea. That’s what you need for shock. You come on inside.’ Sidney Short looked at him with gratitude and followed him into the shop.

‘What’s happened, Fred?’ cried Anne as they all trooped inside. Fred explained and Anne said, ‘But we must let Mavis know.’

‘We don’t know where she is,’ Fred said.

‘Southend.’

‘Yes, well, Southend’s a big place. They could be anywhere. How’re we going to find her?’

‘Carrie Maunder might know,’ suggested Anne.

‘I’d better go round and see her,’ said Fred. ‘Ship Street, isn’t she? Number 5?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ said Anne.

Fred nodded and set off for Ship Street.

Carrie was surprised to see him when she answered her bell. ‘Mr Baillie,’ she said, ‘what can I do for you?’

‘Carrie, d’you know where Mavis Stevens what-was has gone on her honeymoon?’

‘Mavis? She’s gone to Southend. Why?’

‘’Cos her ma’s been knocked down in the street and took to the hospital. We need to get hold of her, straight away.’

‘All I know was Southend. I don’t know where they was staying,’ said Carrie in dismay. ‘I think they was just going to find a boarding house when they got there.’

‘There must be some way of getting hold of her,’ Fred said. ‘If she don’t come home quick, she might be too late.’

Carrie shook her head. ‘Poor Mrs Sharples,’ she said. ‘Who’d have thought it.’

‘And then there’s the kiddies,’ Fred said suddenly, as the thought struck him. ‘They was living with her, wasn’t they? Where’re they going to go now, with their gran in hospital and their ma away?’

‘Well, I suppose they could come here for a bit,’ Carrie said. ‘It’ll only be till Saturday, won’t it?’

‘Could they? That’s good of you. You sure?’

‘Yes, it’ll be a bit of a squeeze, but we’ll manage. I’ll go round the school and let them know what’s happened. I’ll tell Miss Hassinger I’ll have them until Mavis gets home. John won’t mind for a few days and Maggie’ll think it great fun having them to stay.’

Carrie was as good as her word and went straight round to the school to explain the situation to Miss Hassinger.

‘There’s nowhere else for them to go,’ she said when she’d told the headmistress about the accident. ‘I’ll have them at mine until Mavis gets home again.’

‘That’s really very good of you, Mrs Maunder,’ Miss Hassinger said. ‘Do you know how Mrs Sharples is?’

‘No, but it doesn’t sound very good. I think Mrs Baillie from the grocer’s is going to the hospital to find out. I’ll let you know when I know anything.’

‘I’ll just get the girls here to tell them what’s happened,’ said Miss Hassinger, ‘and then we’ll explain that they’re going to stay with you till their mother gets home.’ She reached for the bell on her desk and sent for Rita and Rosie.

A few moments later there was a knock on the door and the girls came in, Rita holding Rosie by the hand, looking nervously at the headmistress.

‘Ah, come in girls,’ she said smiling at them. ‘It’s all right, you haven’t done anything wrong. You know Mrs Maunder, don’t you?’

Rita nodded, and Rosie said, ‘She’s Maggie’s mum.’

‘Well, she’s going to collect you from school today. You’re going home with Maggie.’

‘Where’s Gran?’ demanded Rita. ‘Why ain’t we going there?’

‘I’m afraid there’s been an accident,’ Carrie said gently. ‘Your gran is in the hospital, so I thought you could come and stay with us for a few days, just till Mum gets back.’

Rita stared at Carrie for a moment and then said, ‘Is she dead?’

‘No, but she was hurt, so they took her in an ambulance to the hospital. The doctors are looking after her, but she’ll have to stay there for a while, till she’s better.’

Rita nodded, but Rosie’s bottom lip began to tremble. ‘I want Mummy,’ she whimpered. ‘Where’s Mummy?’

‘She’s on her honeymoon,’ replied Carrie. ‘She’ll be home on Saturday.’

‘So will Uncle Jimmy,’ whispered Rita.

Miss Hassinger looked at her sharply, but decided not to hear the remark. However, when the girls had been taken back to their classrooms by Miss Granger, and their teachers told what had happened, Miss Hassinger sat deep in thought. Just when the two children had a little stability at last, she thought. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

‘I know where Gran keeps a key,’ Rita said to Carrie when she met them at the school gate that afternoon. ‘We’ll need our things.’

‘So you will,’ Carrie agreed with relief. She’d been wondering how she was going to clothe the Stevens girls till Mavis got home. ‘Let’s go to your gran’s then and fetch them.’

Once again Rita and Rosie’s meagre belongings were put into the old suitcase, Knitty was retrieved from the bed, and they all walked back to Ship Street.

‘I’ve made you a bed on the floor in Maggie’s room,’ Carrie told them. ‘You’ll have to snuggle up together on that eiderdown, all right?’

Maggie was thrilled that they were coming to stay. ‘Can we play out?’ she asked once the girls had put their things into her room.

‘Just till I get tea ready,’ Carrie said, and shooed them out into the street.

‘I couldn’t do anything else,’ she said to her husband later that evening, when the three girls were finally asleep. ‘They’d nowhere else to go. It’s only till Mavis gets home on Saturday.’

‘You did right, girl,’ John assured her. ‘She’d do the same for you.’

‘Course she would,’ agreed Carrie, but in truth she wasn’t so sure. She’d known Mavis from schooldays, but Mavis had changed since Jimmy had come on the scene.

Mavis and Jimmy arrived back in Ship Street late Saturday afternoon, to find a postcard pushed through the letter box. On it Carrie had simply written,
Your Mum in hospital. Come round our house when you get back. Carrie.

She stared at the card for a moment and then, putting her hat back on, said to Jimmy, ‘I’ve got to go round Carrie’s.’

‘What you got to go round there for?’ demanded Jimmy. ‘What about my tea?’

‘Carrie says Mum’s in hospital. I got to find out what’s wrong with her, and what’s happened to the girls.’

‘Well,’ said Jimmy, ‘if you ain’t getting me tea, I’ll go down the Lion. I’ll get a pie down there.’

Although Mavis knew this meant he wouldn’t be home until late and probably with a skinful inside him, she didn’t want to argue. There had been very few arguments while they’d been in Southend, and she didn’t want them to start again as soon as they got home.