Part of her knew that she shouldn’t promise what she couldn’t deliver, but one thing she did know was that she was never going to let this baby go. She would cling on to him just as he clung on to life. If only his father could be with her now too!
Just a few days after giving birth, Kate was sent back to work. She had lost a lot of blood and was continuing to bleed heavily. There was too much heavy lifting in the laundry. The work master said he didn’t want to have to call any doctor, so she was to go to the rope workshop. Here the women were tasked with unpicking the oakum, pieces of old rope which had to be untwisted and pulled apart to repair holes in wooden boats and ships. Her fingers were shredded and sore with the picking and unravelling but Ronnie could be with her, swaddled to her breast.
Most of the time Kate kept herself to herself but sometimes, when the women worked, they told one another stories of their past lives and how they longed to be free to return to their previous existence. Kate never talked about Philip and the assumption was that she was yet another young woman who had to suffer the consequences of an employer’s lust. It was during one such session that Kate was warned of what would happen when Ronnie was weaned.
‘Ya need to get out of ’ere before they takes him from ya,’ sniffed Peggy, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
‘Don’t frighten her, Peggy. They don’t always,’ Joan said.
‘They do. They take ’em and they sell ’em for adoption or keep ’em in the nursery until such times they’re old enough to work,’ Peggy continued. ‘When they’re still small they can fit inside the cooking vats to clean them out. Or they’re set to work scrubbing potatoes or floors, whatever it is that needs doin’. If they’re lucky, when they gets older they’ll be taken for a ’prentice.’
Kate didn’t want Ronnie scrubbing vats and floors. He was going to be better than that and she was going to see to it that he had the opportunity. And no one was going to take him away from her either. That was not going to happen. The workhouse had served its purpose, a temporary shelter for them both, but now she must get away as soon as she possibly could. Why hadn’t Carnforth replied to her letter? Where was she to go now?
Chapter Thirty-Three
August 1917
Kate so wanted to go home but she couldn’t just arrive in Micklewell unannounced, with a babe in her arms. She must go to the only people who would help her, Mrs Bowden and Ida.
‘You can’t walk all that way, with a babe,’ Sara said. ‘I’ll pull a few strings for ’yer. The carters go that way once a week, taking the laundry to the military hospital in Lewisham. They takes the clean and picks up the dirty.’
Kate thought of the blood and sweat of those poor soldiers that she had been washing and rinsing away in her time in the workhouse. Well, no more. She accepted Sara’s offer as it would cut her journey time in half. So, the following Monday she stepped onto the cart and turned her back on the workhouse, she hoped for the last time.
The remainder of the walk took her about an hour and, thanks to Sara, she arrived without feeling too exhausted. She needed all her courage to come close to the house again. Should any of the family spot her, she didn’t know how she would be received. She waited outside the gates for a while, watching the front door and the windows for any sign of life, until she was sure that she could enter the side passage unseen.
The smell of baking reached her nose before she got to the kitchen door. She inhaled the scent of spices, cinnamon and nutmeg. She hadn’t tasted cake for months. As her mouth began to water, Ronnie began to cry. She pulled the shawl around him and hugged him to her breast.
‘Shhh,’ she whispered, rocking her body to the rhythm of his whimpers.
The back door opened and Ida stepped into the yard.
‘Kate,’ she exclaimed, ‘I thought I heard something. Come inside, quick now before he kicks off good and proper.’
Once they were safely inside, Ida said, ‘Look who’s here Mrs B.’
‘Oh, my good Lord, Kate!’ Mrs B gasped. ‘Sit down, sit down, for goodness’ sake. How did you get here? And who’s this?’ she asked peeling back the shawl.
‘This is Ronnie,’ Kate said, smiling down at her son, ‘and we’ve walked from Lewisham. We got a ride from Vanburgh Hill so it wasn’t so far.’
‘A little boy and a bonny one too,’ Mrs B said, taking him from her. ‘Ida, put the kettle on. No doubt our mum here could do with a drink and so could this little man, by the look of things.’
She handed him back and Kate unbuttoned her blouse and lifted Ronnie to her breast. ‘Where are you on your way to?’ asked Mrs B, once they’d all had some tea and relaxed into one another’s company.
Just like the old days, thought Kate. Except the old days could never return.
‘Well, that’s just it. I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘I had to get us out of that workhouse, that’s all.’
‘Mmmm!’ said Mrs B, folding her arms over her chest and letting out a long sigh. She sat in that position for quite some while, sucking her teeth until she finally got up and said, ‘Ida, put on your coat, you’re going on an errand.’
‘Where to?’ Ida asked.
‘To Mrs Philpott, the housekeeper two doors down. Her son is serving out in France and his wife’s just had a baby. She’s all on her own and not coping too well by all accounts. Her family don’t live close by. It’s a lonely time for new mothers just after a birth, as you know full well, Kate. I’m sure she’d be pleased to have some company for a while. Now you tell Mrs Philpottabout our Kate and ask her if, in exchange for a little financial recompense, her daughter-in-law would like a lodger for a few days.’
‘I don’t have much money, I’m not sure . . .’ Kate started to explain.
‘Don’t you worry about that. I’ll see to it,’ Mrs B said. ‘I should never have sat by and watched you go to that place, but the master and mistress were so angry. I’ve regretted it every day, but I can help now. Let me help you and Ronnie, Kate, please.’
‘But you can’t . . .’
