Wishes and Tears Read online

  She shook her head.

  ‘In that case I’d better do it.’

  Janet was hurt at her mother’s coolness. She knew what she had done was wrong and knew it wasn’t going to be easy for her parents to accept the situation, but she really hadn’t thought her mother would be so matter-of-fact.

  When her mother had left the room Janet sat and looked out of the window. What was going to happen to her? Her thoughts turned to Sam. She knew he wouldn’t be concerned about her, and marriage would be out of the question. He had told her of how he wanted to go to America and be in films. When she’d shown interest at that he’d made it clear he wanted to go alone. A baby and a wife wouldn’t fit into any of his plans, she realized. She had loved him at the time but as they’d talked after she’d given herself to him, which she now bitterly regretted, it had been clear to her he was only interested in himself and how talented he thought he was. She’d known then he was selfish.

  She touched her stomach. What was going to happen to her baby? Well, six months from now she would have all the answers.

  Fortunately, for the rest of the day her parents were busy and when they left for evening service, she went to her bedroom.

  Before going to bed she wrote in her diary. Today had been another important day, but it hadn’t turned out as she had expected. She wanted to be happy; she wanted her parents to share her baby, not the hurt and pain she felt. She knew what she’d done was wrong and now she had to face the consequences. She flicked through the pages of her diary. Most were empty: she only recorded important events and there hadn’t been that many in her life.

  She lay thinking about all that had been said. Her mind was churning over and over. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily tonight. She heard her parents returning, then, a while later, her mother’s footfall on the stairs.

  ‘Janet?’ she was calling softly as she pushed open the bedroom door.

  Janet pulled herself up to a sitting position and switched on the bedside light. She knew her eyes were red from crying.

  Her mother came and sat on the bed. ‘You must forgive your father, but this has come as a great shock to us both. I’m sure when he’s had time to think about it things won’t be quite so bad.’

  Janet knew her father was strict. Although she loved him they had never been that close. She rubbed the tears away from her cheeks. ‘Does that mean I might be able to stay here?’

  ‘No, I don’t think that would be very wise.’

  ‘What about my baby?’

  Irene Slater winced visibly. ‘You will have to have it adopted.’

  ‘But, but—’

  ‘Janet, you are only sixteen.’

  ‘I’ll be seventeen by the time it’s born,’ sniffed Janet.

  ‘So how on earth do you think you could look after ... it.’

  ‘I hoped you’d be on my side.’

  ‘I am very sorry and angry at what has happened but I am the vicar’s wife. I too have a duty to our parishioners and we can’t have a scandal on our own doorstep when your father is preaching about sin.’

  ‘But what about me?’

  Mrs Slater stood up. ‘You have been a very foolish girl, but the damage has been done now so we must make the best of it. This is a small village and people look up to us to set an example.’

  ‘But what about you, Mother? Do you want to send me away?’

  She turned from her daughter’s gaze and straightened a lace doily on the dressing table. ‘It isn’t what I want that counts.’ She came back to the bed. ‘Good night, dear.’ She kissed Janet’s forehead, then left.

  Janet wanted her mother to hold her and tell her she had forgiven her, but it wasn’t to be.

  After her mother left she sat and stared at the door. What was going to happen to her? She hugged her knees and desperately wished with all her heart that she could turn the clock back. She wanted to win once more her mother’s love and trust. Janet had been happy at home even if her father always appeared to be distant. Although her life had been humdrum, she hadn’t known anything different, though in the past few months she had longed for excitement. She’d wanted to be loved like the women she had seen at the pictures, and mistakenly thought Sam could give her that. She would have gone to America with him if he had asked her. And now she was going to have his baby. She could give it plenty of love, she knew that. It was hers and she didn’t want to give her baby away, but at sixteen what option did she have?

  Chapter 2

  ‘At last.’ Irene Slater looked up from the letter she was reading. ‘It’s from the home for unmarried mothers,’ she said to her daughter.

  Janet was pleased her father was at church conducting a funeral service.

  ‘The nuns will have a place for you,’ continued her mother, smiling.

  Janet didn’t speak, she was so unhappy. For these past four weeks she had been miserable. Her father hadn’t spoken to her and her mother had been very organizing in a detached way. Nobody had enquired as to how she felt, or asked her opinion. She wished she could turn the clock back. When Janet had tried to talk to her mother she’d seemed embarrassed. Janet wanted to share this baby with her, ask her advice, but her mother had made it very clear she didn’t want to be involved.

  ‘I’m sorry, Janet, if I seem to be hard but we do have a standard to maintain,’ she had said. ‘When this is all over you can pick up your life back here again and people will be none the wiser. So the less said about this matter the better.’

  Now her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  ‘Janet, did you hear what I said?’

  She nodded. Did she want to pick up her life back here again? ‘Where is it—this home?’ she asked.

  ‘In London.’

  Janet felt happier at that. ‘Near Aunt Rose?’ she asked eagerly.

  ‘No. And I must ask you not to write and tell her what has happened. I’ll do that. The home is in South London, a place called Southwark.’

  Aunt Rose lived north of the Thames.

  ‘When have I got to go?’

  ‘You said it was due in March, so you will have to go quite soon.’

  ‘Before Christmas?’ asked Janet in alarm.

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘But I want to be here for Christmas.’

  ‘I’m very sorry, dear, but we can’t have you waddling about the village. You are beginning to show a little now, and we don’t want anyone suspecting.’

  Janet felt unclean.

  ‘Have you told anyone at the office?’

  Janet worked in an accounts department.

  She shook her head.

  ‘That’s good. You’ll have to hand your notice in very soon - you can tell them you are looking after an aunt —and perhaps when this is all over you can apply to return.’

  Janet was angry. Her mother didn’t mind her telling lies if it served her purpose. She didn’t want to go back to Blakes, she was the only junior in accounts and seemed to spend her life making tea and running errands. The grey-haired ladies and old men only smiled at her and conversed amongst themselves.

  ‘You can go at the end of the month. I’ll help you pack. You’ll travel by train.’

  It was all so matter-of-fact. Her mother hadn’t shown any feelings about her or her baby. This was going to be her grandchild.

  ‘Will you come to see me?’

  ‘We will try. But when you get there, there will be plenty of other girls in the same predicament as you and you should all get on very well together.’

  So that was it. They were pushing her out of sight till it was all over. Would she be welcomed back like a prodigal daughter afterwards? She very much doubted it.

  At the end of October Mrs Slater kissed her daughter goodbye as she boarded the bus to the station. Janet’s father did not see her off.

  On the train she sat looking out of the window. The last time she had gone to London was such a happy occasion, now this journey was the result of that moment in which she had thrown all her pr
inciples away. Why had she done it? She gave a slight smile. She knew why, it was because she wanted to feel grown up. When they went to the park and Sam kissed her long and hard she felt she was in heaven. He had been her Mr Wonderful. When he began to unbutton her blouse she became a little apprehensive. Sam told her not to worry. As he struggled to get her knickers off she had feebly said no.

  ‘Ain’t you ever done it before?’

  She remembered shaking her head and telling him she was worried about having a baby and he had just laughed.

  ‘It’s me lucky night then, ain’t it?’ he’d whispered as he kissed and caressed her breasts. ‘You can trust me, darling. All the modern girls do it. ‘Sides, you can’t get up the duff the first time.’

  How wrong he had been. She hadn’t really enjoyed him pushing inside her; it had hurt and it wasn’t as if it had been as thrilling as she had been led to believe in some of the magazines she’d secretly read. Now she felt he had used her.

  Janet got off the bus and looked at the paper to confirm she was at the right address. The red-brick building with tiny windows looked old and run-down, almost prison-like. The house was set back from the road behind tall trees. Her mother had told her it was run by nuns. Janet sighed. So that meant more sermons and prayers. She would have liked to have been able to run far away, but she didn’t have much money and where would she go? Aunt Rose wouldn’t want her, not if that meant a confrontation with Janet’s father. They had never seen eye to eye, as Rose wasn’t religious. Janet picked up her suitcase, walked along the gravel path and up the six stone steps, then rang the bell.

  ‘Miss Slater,’ repeated the sister who opened the door and asked who she was. ‘Yes, we are expecting you. Follow me.’ She glided, in the way that nuns seemed to have, along the dark passage. In contrast Janet’s shoes were echoing on the tiled floor.

  They stopped at the second brown-painted door.

  ‘I’m Sister Verity and this is my office, and if at any time you wish to talk to me you must feel free to do so. Now take off your hat and coat and take a seat. We have to fill in a few forms. Just routine, you understand.’

  Janet did as she was told. She was asked all the usual questions: name, date of birth, her father’s occupation.

  Sister Verity, a tall thin-faced woman, with pointed features and piercing brown eyes, looked up quickly when Janet told her. ‘This must have come as a great shock to your parents?’

  Janet only bowed her head.

  Sister Verity continued writing. ‘Now I must have the child’s father’s full name.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So that it can be on the birth certificate.’

  Janet sat and stared at her blankly. How could she say she didn’t know it? It made her sound as if she was ... ‘Mark Samuel,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Does he know?’

  Janet shook her head.

  ‘I see.’ When the sister had finished writing she sat back and closed the file. ‘The evening meal will be in a short while, then after prayers you will be examined by our doctor. I will get Miss Long to show you to the room you will be sharing with her. She is in the day room at the moment.’

  Janet noted the emphasis was on the Miss.

  They moved out of the office and back along the passage. Sister Verity pushed open a door to reveal about ten girls in various stages of pregnancy, sitting in armchairs. Many were knitting, but some were talking or reading.

  ‘Miss Long, will you take care of Miss Slater? She will be sharing your room.’

  A thin short girl, who didn’t look as if she had a baby hiding under her voluminous smock, stood up. She appeared to be about the same age as Janet, and had short dark hair and dancing brown eyes. She came over and a broad smile lit up her face. ‘Sure. Come on, follow me.’

  The sister moved away as they left the room and climbed the stairs.

  ‘We’re in here.’ She pushed open the door. ‘It ain’t bad, a bloody sight better than the one I had at home.’

  Janet stood in the doorway of the sparsely furnished room. The narrow window was open and the thin beige-coloured curtains moved gently. There were just two single beds, a dressing table, and a cupboard built in the fire recess; the fireplace had been boarded up.

  ‘It’s a bit cold in here.’ Miss Long hugged herself and moved to pull the sash window down. ‘The nuns always open the windows, reckon we need the fresh air. I like my air warm and full of smoke. Thank goodness we only sleep here so it ain’t that bad. What’s your name?’

  ‘Janet.’

  ‘Mine’s Freda. When’s it due?’

  ‘March.’

  ‘Blimey, your family got rid of you quick enough, didn’t they?’

  Janet didn’t answer, but instead asked, ‘When’s your baby due?’

  ‘January. I ain’t that big.’ Freda patted her stomach affectionately. ‘Can’t say I wanner have him adopted, though, but I ain’t got a lot of choice. Me stepdad threw me out.’

  Janet was warming to this girl. ‘How do you know it’s a boy?’

  Freda laughed. ‘Did the test with a wedding ring - well, it was a brass one really. You hold it over your belly and if it goes this way it’s a boy.’ She moved her hands round clockwise. ‘And if it goes the other way it’s a girl. Well, I think that’s the right way.’

  Janet liked Freda. She seemed honest and happy.

  ‘We’ll have to do you. What d’you want?’

  ‘It doesn’t really matter, does it? We can’t keep them.’

  ‘No, that’s true. Right, tea’s in about half an hour so let me give you a hand with your unpacking.’

  Despite all the apprehension she had had about coming here, Janet felt that she had found a friend.

  ‘This is nice,’ said Freda as she hung Janet’s skirt on a hanger. ‘Looks like you’ve got some nice things.’

  ‘They won’t fit me for very long.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. The sisters will soon have you knitting and sewing so you can make yourself a new skirt. Can you knit?’

  Janet nodded. ‘But I’m not very good at sewing.’ She put her nightdress under the pillow and hung her dressing gown on the hook behind the door. ‘What’s it like here?’

  ‘It ain’t bad, I suppose—bit like a prison really, not that I’ve been inside, but we can’t do what we like and they’re forever telling us we should be grateful that they’re looking after us after what we done. And we do have a lot of prayers, mostly about him up there forgiving us for what we did.’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Fallen women, that’s what we are.’ She laughed.

  ‘Who was here?’ asked Janet as she sat on the bed to test the springs.

  ‘Maisie. Nice kid. Think she had a boy. We don’t come back after we leave the hospital and so if you ain’t got your mate’s address you can’t keep in touch.’

  The dinner gong reverberated round the room.

  ‘Come on, follow me.’ Freda was out of the door.

  The meal of beans on toast wasn’t very exciting but it was adequate.

  After tea and prayers Janet was shown into the doctor’s room.

  The doctor was a short, round balding man with bright blue eyes. ‘Right, take your knickers off and get up on the bed.’ He had cold stubby fingers that prodded and probed at Janet’s very private parts. She felt humiliated and dirty. The doctor she had seen at Horsham had been kinder and apologized if he thought he was hurting her, but Dr Winter appeared to take a fiendish delight in making her jump.

  ‘Get dressed, young lady. Everything seems to be in order,’ he said, moving towards the sink and washing his hands. ‘I will examine you every week, take your blood pressure and generally keep my eye on you. If at any time you feel unwell or have a show of blood you must report it at once.’ He dried his hands and sat at his desk and began writing. ‘That’s all, you can go now.’

  Janet stood outside the door for a few moments. If only Sam knew what he was putting her through would he have stood by her? She didn’t t
hink he would. Besides, how many other little Sams were there? One evening, just a few minutes, that’s all it took and she hadn’t even enjoyed it that much. Now this was the result. She moved towards the day room. She didn’t think he would be concerned at her plight, and after all she could have made it clearer she meant it when she said no.

  ‘So you’ve met our Dr Winter then,’ said Freda later that evening as they were getting undressed ready for bed. ‘He’s got bloody cold hands, ain’t he? I’m sure he runs ‘em under the cold tap just to make us squirm. Winter be name and Winter be nature.’ Freda laughed.

  Janet took her diary from her handbag and began writing.

  ‘What you doing?’

  ‘Just writing in my diary.’

  ‘Do you do it every day?’

  ‘No, only when I’ve got something important to write about.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  When they were in bed Freda told Janet lights out was at nine thirty, and woe betide any one who was caught with their light on after that.

  ‘It’s the bloody great gap under the door that gives the game away,’ said Freda. ‘And those nuns creep about like the Lord Jesus Christ himself. Sometimes they frighten the life out of you when they speak and you don’t know they’re there.’

  ‘What do they do to you if you get caught?’ asked Janet anxiously.

  ‘Well, you spend most of the day on your knees praying and after that it’s in the kitchen cleaning the pots and pans.’

  Janet grinned. It was worse than school. She settled down under the blankets and felt strange knowing, after all her apprehension since the day her mother had received the letter, that she could be happy here.

  They talked for quite a while in low whispers.

  Janet heard how Freda had met Mick and had fallen in love with him. It was when she found she was having his baby that he told her he was married.

  ‘So then me stepdad threw me out.’

  ‘But what about your mother?’

  ‘Me mum? She couldn’t wait to get rid of me. She didn’t want another mouth to feed. ‘Sides, she thought I was a bad influence on the others.’