I suppose the envelope this letter comes in must have given you a clue that things have taken a rather different path to the one I had envisaged. I know nothing gets past my clever little sister. I hope you have a cup of tea in your hand, or something stronger from Dad’s supplies, for you’re likely to need it when you read what I have to tell you.
Please don’t worry, however – I have good news. At least, it’s the best I could have hoped for, given the pickle I’ve managed to get myself into. But I’ll stop beating about thebush and put you out of your misery. It’s simply this: that Tony and I are to be married.
Are you still reading? Have you swooned with shock? I know you must think him a poor match. I confess I wish… but it doesn’t matter. The consequences of my actions have turned up to bite me on my bottom, and jolly well serve me right.
Bobby stared at the words on the page, if not quite swooning with shock then certainly knocked for six. Lilian, engaged to Tony Scott! Whatever news she had expected on opening her sister’s letter, it hadn’t been that.
Tony, Bobby’s former colleague from her days working for theBradford Courier, had always been feckless, lazy and with an eye for a pretty girl. The surprise Bobby had felt on learning he was to blame for her sister’s condition had been due to Lilian alone: that she could have been so foolish as to fall for Tony’s lines. It had come as no shock to Bobby that her old friend would have been irresponsible enough to father her sister’s child. But learning he was not only prepared to support the baby but actually to legitimise his child through marriage – now that was a shock. Bobby knew she ought to feel relief, for Lilian’s sake and the baby’s, but all she felt as she read on was worry.
You’ll be dying for the full story, I imagine, so here it is. You know I wrote to T with the news of what he’d done – or what we’d done, I ought to say, for I’m no less guilty. I hadn’t expected much. All I asked was if he would be willing to advance me money to pay for a private nursing home where I could deliver the baby and give it away for adoption without anyone being the wiser. Knowing he was out of work, even that seemed a forlorn hope. The very dayI got back to my digs, I found a letter waiting for me with an offer of marriage!
We spoke on the telephone that evening. He told me it isn’t only for the baby’s sake. That he had long admired me, which I know to be true, and that he had fallen in love with me, which I know to be untrue but am willing to accept as a pleasant fiction to help me go through with this thing. I know T is shiftless but I can’t believe he is truly bad. He says he is going to try, really try, to be a better, more dependable man. You know him better than me, for all that I’m carrying his child, so you will know how likely this resolution is to come true. Still, it is the best outcome – I had so wanted to keep the baby, and for it to grow up happy and respectable with me as its mother. Tony is offering me all of that, which I suppose is rather noble for a man of his habits. But oh, Bobby! I had so many dreams.
There was an illegible line here, the ink blotted where tears had fallen.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t give in to emotion, when really it’s all worked out rather well. I suppose it’s the baby – I certainly seem to cry at the drop of a hat these days. Perhaps I can learn to love Tony, in time. But I had wanted my life to turn out differently, Bob. Sometimes I daydream about how things could be if I broke it off with Tony and you and I went somewhere together, found a little cottage and raised the baby just we two… but I’m rambling, and you’re probably long ready for this bittersweet letter to be over.
In short, I spoke at once to the senior Wren officer to tell her I was to be married and wished to resign my place. I was frank about why the wedding was a matter of urgency and she was a sport about it. I’m not the first, I suppose,and surely won’t be the last. She issued me with a Para II and I found myself back on Civvy Street before you could say knife.
I’m now on my way home. I’ve scribbled this nonsense on the train, to drop into the postbox when I change at Leeds. I suppose by the time you read it, I’ll be back in Bradford. I’ve arranged to lodge with Clara for a fortnight, and Tony and I are intending to arrange a quick wedding at the registry. Tony has the licence ready. Hardly Rhett and Scarlett, is it? But hey-ho and serve me right.
One of the Greenwich girls has a neat little parlour trick she used to bring out on beano nights. She’s able to tell fortunes by laying out cards, just like the gypsy woman I dragged you to see once in Blackpool. Before Christmas she told me I was to expect great joy in 1942, but also great sadness. Do you think there can be anything in it? Or have I gone quite barmy?
As soon as I’m legally Mrs Scott, I’ll be dragging Tony to Silverdale to introduce him to Dad. Tin hat at the ready, young Bobby! I’ll see you very soon, and please, don’t fret.
All my best love,
Lilian
Chapter 4
Bobby knelt motionless by the fire, her sister’s letter in her hand. A spark jumped out and set light to the corner, bringing her back to life. She blew it out before the whole thing went up in flames.
She could hardly believe it! Her brain, so full of her own worries moments before, was whirling now with thoughts of her sister.
Her pretty, lively, fun-loving sister, courted by every lad she’d ever met, engaged to Tony! Tony Scott, who wouldn’t recognise a hard day’s work if it were painted blue and dancing a hornpipe. Tony Scott, who oiled his way round the pubs of Bradford like a dog on heat. He was so very far from everything Bobby knew her romance-loving twin had dreamed of.
But what could be done? In less than six months a baby would be coming, and Tony was that baby’s father. Lilian was right: this was the best outcome. It was the only outcome that would allow her to keep both her baby and her reputation.
Not that that made Bobby feel any jollier about it. Could Tony really make her sister happy? Could he provide for her and the baby?
Then again, he’d always been keen on the idea of matrimony, despite his flirtatious ways. It certainly sounded as though he’d jumped on the opportunity to snag himself a wife. How Bobby wished she could talk to the man! There was a lot she intended to say to her old friend when she finally got her hands on him.
Could they be married already? Surely not so soon as that. Bobby was tempted to jump on a train to Bradford that very evening and try to talk her sister out of it – except she knew in her heart that there really wasn’t anything else to be done.
Her eyes flickered to the passage of Lilian’s letter where she talked about her daydream of the two of them raising the baby together, somewhere far away. If only that was possible…
Bobby started when she heard snow being knocked off boots outside. Her dad was home. Hastily she stuffed Lilian’s letter into her pocket.
‘Dad.’ She summoned a smile as he came in, and stood to give him a kiss of greeting. ‘How was work? I’m sure Topsy would have granted you a day’s holiday with the weather as bad as it is.’
‘Nay, I’ll not beg holidays from Her Ladyship for a little ice and snow. Never let it be said I’m not earning my keep in them woods, our Bobby. I’ve been salting paths since dawn.’ He frowned when he took in her appearance. ‘What’s up, lass?’
Bobby took out her handkerchief and wiped away the sooty tears that clung to her cheeks. ‘Oh, nothing to worry about. I was being foolish.’
‘No bad news? You’ve not heard from one o’ t’ lads?’
‘Nothing to do with Jake or Ray, or Charlie either.’ She went to their Bakelite wireless set to tune it to Radio Éireann, the Irish station, which usually played light music at this time. It gave her an excuse to keep her face averted while she broke her news.
