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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #Romance, #20th Century, #General

Sing as We Go (39 page)

BOOK: Sing as We Go
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‘Adopted? You’re going to have him adopted?’ Kathy was desperate. At least at the moment she knew where her baby was. If he were to be adopted again, then she would certainly lose touch with him. She couldn’t bear it. ‘But – but couldn’t you employ a nanny to look after him? A live-in nanny?’

‘I suppose I could. But it was my wife who wanted a child. Not me. I only agreed to it to keep her happy. And I’d need a bigger place. I’m living in a one-roomed flat at the moment. It’s totally unsuitable for a young child and my house is uninhabitable.’

‘I know. I’ve seen it.’

He spread his hands helplessly, though to Kathy he was far from being a helpless man. ‘Then you see my position.’

‘But you’ll get another house?’

He nodded, ‘Oh yes. I’m in negotiations now with one of the estate agents in the town, but it might be a while . . .’

‘But you haven’t actually signed any adoption papers yet?’

‘Well, no, I haven’t, but . . .’

‘Oh please don’t, Mr Wainwright. It’s not what your wife – what Beryl – would have wanted, is it?’

It seemed as if, at last, she had touched a nerve. His face crumpled briefly and he passed his hand across his brow. But in moments he was in control of himself again. He doesn’t love James, Kathy thought shrewdly, but he did love his wife. He leant his arms on his desk and sighed heavily. ‘I’ve felt guilty enough about my decision, but I didn’t know what else to do.’ He stared at her. ‘Just who are you and how did you know my wife?’

Kathy licked her lips. She could tell the truth, but not all of it. ‘I was walking one day along the road where you live and Beryl was out pushing the pram. We got talking and then I met her again and she invited me in to see the baby. We – we became friends.’ Kathy made it sound as if the friendship had gone on over a period of time and was deeper than it had been. ‘She – she didn’t mention me to you?’ Kathy held her breath, fearing that if his wife had told him that she’d met the girl who was James’s natural mother, Mr Wainwright might very well now put two and two together very quickly and realize exactly who she was.

‘I don’t think so,’ he murmured, wrinkling his brow. ‘What’s your name again?’

‘Burton. Kathy Burton.’ Now Kathy felt a little easier. She couldn’t remember ever giving Beryl Wainwright her name.

‘No – no, I don’t recall hearing her mention you, but then,’ he gave a wry, rather sad smile, ‘I’m afraid I was guilty of not always listening to my wife’s chatter about domestic affairs.’ He looked up and seemed to be appraising her again.

‘You live here? In Saltershaven?’

Kathy avoided answering directly. ‘I’ve been away touring with a concert party. We’re affiliated to ENSA and we entertain servicemen and women, factory workers, hospitals.’

‘Really?’ Mr Wainwright’s eyebrows rose fractionally. ‘That sounds very commendable. And what do you do?’

‘I’m a singer. A soloist.’

There was another pause before Kathy asked tentatively, ‘Won’t you consider employing a nanny? He’s your son. Surely . . . ?’

He smiled a little wearily and said flippantly, ‘Are you applying for the job?’

Kathy gasped in surprise. It was more than she’d dared to hope for. ‘Yes. I am. I’d like nothing better than to care for Beryl’s baby as she would have wanted.’ She felt no guilt in ruthlessly exploiting the man’s one and only weakness, if it meant she could be close to James.

He nodded slowly. ‘I’ll think about it. I promise I will give it serious thought. You’re right about one thing. Beryl wouldn’t have wanted me to give him back for adoption. She loved the little chap.’ It was almost an admission that he did not. ‘I presume you’re still with the concert party at the moment?’

Kathy nodded. ‘Yes, we’re here for the whole week. At the theatre. But I could stay. I needn’t go with them. The cast aren’t under any kind of contract. It’s all voluntary.’

‘I see.’ He was thoughtful again. ‘Of course, I’ll have to find out what the position is regarding your eligibility for call-up. At the moment, I presume you’re classed as doing valuable war work. I’m not sure that becoming a nanny for one child would be viewed as such. However, I’ll make some enquiries. Come and see me at the end of the week some time on Friday. Check with my secretary for a suitable time and I promise I will have an answer for you by then.’

He rose and Kathy knew herself dismissed. She shook hands with him again and left his office, not quite sure if her trembling legs were going to carry her safely down the stairs and outside the building before she could give way to the tears that welled up inside her.

She was close, oh so close, to being with her baby. To holding him, feeding him, dressing him, loving him – to being able to spend every moment with him. But then common sense intervened and she tried to calm herself and not get too hopeful. After all, if Mr Wainwright felt very little affection for the child, why would he want to keep him at all? At the moment, he felt an obligation to the wife he had loved and lost. It would have been her wish, but as time went on and his grief lessened he might view bringing up a child that wasn’t even his as a burden he could well do without. Kathy decided she would tell no one within the company until she knew Mr Wainwright’s decision.

 

Thirty-Seven

How she got through the rest of the week, Kathy didn’t know. The time seemed to crawl and she passed the days in a trance. She could sleep, yet she didn’t feel tired. She was buoyed up with hope and excitement. She was bursting to confide in someone, yet she dared not. She felt that if she voiced her hopes aloud, her dream would be shattered.

Friday came at last and she was once more waiting outside the council offices for her early appointment with Mr Wainwright. The moment she stepped into his office she knew the news was good. He rose from behind his desk and came towards her with his hand outstretched to shake hers.

‘Good morning, Miss Burton,’ he smiled. ‘Please sit down. Now, let me tell you straight away that I have decided to give you a month’s trial in the post as James’s nanny. In fact, to give us both a month’s trial.’ He sat down at his desk again, rested his arms on its surface and linked his fingers together. ‘I went to Willow House to see James. He’s being well cared for, but it’s a grim place. I – Beryl wouldn’t have been happy to think he was back there.’ He paused, remembering his wife. ‘Anyway, we’ll give it a try, but please understand, I am not making a long-term commitment at this stage. I – I really don’t know if I can. And like I said before, you may be called up. But for the moment,’ he went on briskly, adopting his business-like manner once again, ‘let’s discuss practicalities. I have agreed a price on a house, and though they’re hurrying things up as much as possible, I can’t move in for two weeks. You won’t be expected to do very much in the way of heavy housework, though perhaps you wouldn’t mind cooking the occasional meal? I have a daily help, Mrs Talbot, where I’m living now. She’s good in her way,’ he added wryly, ‘but she is burdened with an idle, good-for-nothing husband who resorts to illness as a means of having a few days off work. But domestics aren’t easy to come by these days so I shall be keeping her on when I move.’

‘Of course I wouldn’t mind helping out.’

‘Good. Now, in the meantime, perhaps you could give me the name of two people. I like to take up references; it’s the way we do things here. But I’m sure it’s only a formality, so, if you’d like to make arrangements with the concert party to leave in two weeks’ time and return here then?’

Kathy nodded, her eyes shining. No matter what the future held, at least she would be able to spend a month with her little boy. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

‘I’ll be here,’ she promised.

‘A nanny? Whatever do you want to become a nanny for? Have you any experience with children?’ Ron was aghast. ‘Of course I’ll give him a reference . . .’ Ron was one of the two names she had given Mr Wainwright, the other being Mr James Hammond, which had seemed to impress him. ‘But I can’t understand why you want to leave us to look after someone else’s child. My dear,’ he took her hand and patted it gently. ‘It won’t be a substitute for your own, you know. I know you had a dreadful time but one day you will meet a nice young man and . . .’

Tears filled Kathy’s eyes as she shook her head. ‘You don’t understand. This is something I have to do. Something I want to do – more than anything else in the world.’

Ron stared at her. ‘Why, Kathy?’ he said softly. ‘Just tell me why? We’re going to miss you so much in the party and you bring such pleasure to the audience. A pretty girl – a very pretty girl – with a beautiful voice and you want to bury yourself away here to devote yourself to just one child. Oh my dear, don’t cry. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, but I just can’t understand it. I thought you enjoyed being with us. You get on with all the other members in the party, don’t you?’

Kathy nodded wordlessly.

‘Then . . .’

Kathy sighed. This man had been so good to her, so kind. He deserved to hear the truth, even if it cost her a good reference. But she knew instinctively that she could trust him. He was a devout man who would not betray her confidence.

‘If – if I tell you the real reason, will you promise me that it’ll remain just between us?’

‘Of course, but . . .’

‘Then please sit down, Ron. This is going to take a while . . .’

She told him it all, starting right back at the beginning with her life of drudgery at home and how she had longed to escape. ‘If my father hadn’t hit me that day, I’d probably still have been there.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Dreaming of the bright lights, no doubt, but still there milking cows at the crack of dawn.’

Ron smiled. ‘I always wondered how come you were so good at getting up in a morning to catch the early train. I almost have to drag some of the others out of bed, but there you were, bright and early and with a smile on your face . . .’

Her story went on. How the Robinson family had taken her in and how Jemima had found her a job.

‘That was how I met Tony. And then – and then . . .’

‘And then the wedding that didn’t happen.’

She nodded and went on huskily, ‘But there’s something you don’t know. After – after Tony had gone away, I – I found I was pregnant.’

‘Oh, my dear girl.’ There was no censure in his tone, just sympathy and understanding.

‘I came here to a home for unmarried mothers and babies. I – I wanted to keep him but I was tricked into signing adoption papers and they took him away from me. They never even let me see him or hold him . . .’

She went on with the whole story, right up until the previous day when Mr Wainwright had offered her the post of nanny.

‘It’s my little boy. James is my little boy, Ron. Do you see now why? I just have to grab this chance to be with him. Even if it’s only for a little while.’

‘Of course I do. But, Kathy love, are you sure you’re not just building up further heartache for yourself? What if, at the end of the month, this Mr Wainwright decides he doesn’t want to keep the child? What if he decides to put him up for adoption again?’

‘I don’t know,’ Kathy said bleakly. But then she lifted her chin with a new determination. ‘But I’m not going to live on “what ifs”. I’m just going to take each day as it comes.’ She paused and then, putting her head on one side, added wistfully, ‘I don’t suppose you feel like giving me a reference now, do you?’

‘My dear, dear girl,’ Ron said, surprising her by pulling her to him and hugging her. Though a kindly man, he was not given to displays of affection. ‘Of course I’ll give you a reference. A glowing one. What better “nanny” could that little boy have than his own mother?’ He pulled away and looked into her eyes. ‘And you need have no worries. Your secret is safe with me.’

‘Thank you, Ron,’ she said simply.

The two weeks passed surprisingly quickly. There were four engagements for the party. They played in and around Nottingham: in a factory canteen, the NAAFI of an RAF station near Newark and two hospitals. This time, with help and encouragement, Melody took part in the show in a hall attached to the hospital, but she did not visit the wards. After Kathy’s final performance, Ron organized a leaving party for her. She was touched by the gifts she was given. Perfume, handkerchiefs, a pretty scarf, and from the comedian in the party, a pair of earplugs. ‘That’s for when he cries too much.’

They all laughed and Rosie pressed her gift into Kathy’s hands. ‘That’s from me and Martin. I know he’s not here, but he’d want to join in. I know he would.’ It was a children’s picture book. ‘I don’t know whether I envy you or think you’re mad.’ She laughed. ‘I want children of my own one day, but I don’t think I could ever look after someone else’s.’

Kathy smiled and deliberately avoided meeting Ron’s glance. ‘Thank you, Rosie. It’s lovely,’ was all she said, neatly avoiding commenting on the girl’s statement.

And then she was on her way to Saltershaven. Soon now, she would see her little boy again.

‘Can you go to Willow House to pick him up?’

Kathy’s heart missed a beat. How could she? They might recognize her!

‘I – yes, of course,’ she said boldly. ‘But – but do you think they’d hand him over to me? I mean – I could be anybody.’

‘Mm. I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll write a note. Better still, I’ll get my secretary to type it on headed paper. That way they’ll know it comes from me.’

‘Wouldn’t you – like to fetch him yourself?’ Kathy ventured, trying to make it sound as if it was an occasion he ought not to miss.

‘I really haven’t the time,’ he said and pressed the buzzer on his desk that brought his secretary into the room.

He dictated the letter he wanted written and then scribbled on a piece of paper the address of the house he had just moved into and which was to be Kathy’s new home. ‘Get yourself settled in first,’ he said. ‘Make sure you have everything you need for the boy and then you can fetch him tomorrow.’

Kathy took the piece of paper from him and waited in the outer office until his secretary had typed the letter. As she left the Town Hall, she was still wondering how on earth she was going to take James out of Willow House without being recognized. And if she was, she was sure the matron would lose no time in telling Mr Wainwright just who his new nanny was.

BOOK: Sing as We Go
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