‘Oh no you don’t, Jim Truscott!’ Ada said, holding firm. ‘You’re her father. What happens to her is your concern too.’
It was Nora who opened the door to the family that day. She greeted them with surprise.
‘Why Mr and Mrs Truscott, good morning, and Dot and young Henry and baby Tilly too,’ she said in a breezy voice. ‘How may I help you on this fine morning?’
When she received a muted reply and noticed the slightly bowed heads and serious faces of Ada and Jim Truscott, however, she altered her tone.
‘Is it Florence you’ve come to see?’ she asked, as it was usually the eldest Taylor sister people came looking for if there were problems and the family certainly looked as if they had a dilemma that needed Florence’s kind and steady nature to resolve. Just then, Florence herself appeared in the doorway.
‘Good morning,’ she said, greeting them warmly, and ushering them inside to a small but cosy sitting room. ‘Do sit down,’ she continued indicating an enormous settee while she and her sister took the two armchairs.
‘I apologize for calling so early, Miss Taylor,’ Ada began, ‘but it’s just, well, you see . . .’
‘It’s our Kate,’ Jim interrupted. ‘Show her the letter, Ada.’
Ada laid the still sleeping baby across her lap and handed Florence the letter. Florence retrieved her glasses from the bureau in the corner and quietly read the contents of the letter.
‘I see,’ said Florence passing back the letter.
Ada made a slight choking sound in her throat. Henry looked anxiously at his mother and Dot pulled him up onto her knee.
‘Now don’t distress yourself,’ Florence reassured Ada. ‘This is not as uncommon a situation as you might think. Do we know who the father is?’
‘No,’ Ada replied mopping her eyes. ‘All we know is what you’ve read for yourself, that Kate had to leave her employment and gave birth to a son at the Greenwich Union Workhouse infirmary in June.’
Jim sat, cap in hand, with his arms on his knees looking downwards. Dot didn’t know whose face to look at and shifted in her chair uncomfortably. She settled on looking at a painting above Florence’s head which showed a cottage with a latched gate. A young maid stood knitting at the cottage door and a reed basket stood ready at her feet to take to the fields.
‘A beautiful painting, isn’t it?’ Florence said. ‘The girl seems happy enough but moments after the artist put down his brush who knows what befell her?’
Motes drifted in the air in the morning light and settled silently between them as each dwelt in their own thoughts. Florence was aware of the awkwardness of the situation and said with a smile, ‘But I am too maudlin. Shame on me! The point is, my dears, what can be done to help your lovely daughter?’
Jim raised his head, Dot straightened her back and Ada tucked her handkerchief up her sleeve.
‘Please try not to worry,’ Florence continued. ‘I will do my best to help Kate. I’m sure there are plenty of things she can do here. We’ve been struggling since our farm hands joined up.Old Graves has always been a hard worker but there’s too much for him to do by himself. When she arrives, give her time to get adjusted, find her feet. It will be hard for her. Then bring her to see me.’
Ada wrote back instructing her daughter to come home and the Truscott family waited for Kate and her child to arrive.
* * *
Kate was both pleased to be returning home and sad to be leaving Edith. They had got on so well and that brief time in her life had made her realize that she was not the only mother to be left on her own. There was no certainty that Edith’s husband would return to her and there were so many thousands of other women across the country who were in exactly the same position. The thought brought some comfort, but when she looked down at the sleeping face of her son and touched his delicate eyebrows, she couldn’t stop the surge of pain that came over her. Ronnie’s lashes were long and full like his father’s and that little frown between his brows was Philip’s frown when he was thinking. What thoughts could such a tiny baby have and how would she ever be able to help him see what his father was like. He would never know him.
On the train ride from London to Hook, Kate thought about Edith. She was sad to be leaving her but happy to be going home.
She recalled the number of times she had made this journey, times of joy and of sorrow. Bringing her mother a posy on Mothering Sunday; holding her new brother, Henry, on her knee; holding her mother close as she wept at the loss of her eldest son. Now she was going home for good, a very different person to the one who had left to become a nursemaid five years ago. But she would come through this.
She was sorry she hadn’t been able to tell Clara the truth about Philip but what point would there be now? Her parentswould never accept their grandson, they probably wouldn’t even believe that Ronnie was his. She hoped that Clara and Carnforth would eventually be able to marry. She had no doubts that Clara was on the way to becoming an independent woman, who would know her own mind and not allow her father to make any decisions for her about her future.
As for her? The future was a complete blank. The only certainty was that she would need to provide for Ronnie. What to tell her parents? The best way was to say that the war had taken Ronnie’s father, just like it had taken their son. That much they would understand. That much was the truth.
There were so many fatherless children. Ronnie was no different. She had survived the workhouse, she had become a mother and she knew she was loved. Her family would not shun her. They were no doubt shocked; her father might show his disapproval and the neighbours would gossip, but as soon as the initial excitement had died down they would all get back to living their lives. There was too much still going on with the war for people to dwell on the misfortunes of others for too long.
As the train pulled into Hook station, Kate became more nervous. She leaned out of the carriage window and opened the door. She turned and picked Ronnie up from the seat where she had laid him and then picked up her bag and dragged it to the door.
‘Here, let me help you,’ a gentleman said and she let him carry her bag for her.
As she stepped down onto the platform, the whole family were waiting for her. She felt apprehensive but her fears soon melted when she saw their beaming faces.
Dot and Henry raced down the platform to greet her.
