Short story
As the months go by, Peggy is worried that Colin hasn’t replied to any of her letters
When Peggy entered her mother’s bedroom, carefully balancing the breakfast tray on her swollen tummy, the older woman glared at her.
“Look at the state of you!” she snapped. “You’re a blinking disgrace. And where’s your precious Colin from Coventry now that you need him?”
Peggy tried to ignore the cruel taunt as she put the tray down and rearranged the pillows, propping her mother up more comfortably. Although her face was deeply lined, her hands were as soft and white as a lady’s.
Little wonder, Peggy thought, as she never did a stroke of work around the house. That was still left to Peggy to do, despite being eight months’ pregnant.
Every day she prayed that Colin would miraculously appear, but so far her pleas had gone unanswered.
Peggy had forgotten what it was like to feel the sun on her face. She didn’t want the same fate for her baby
This morning, she felt more tired and hopeless than usual as they had spent most of the night in the cellar listening to the sound of enemy planes overhead.
Hesitantly, she began: “Mother, isn’t it time that we got some things for the baby put together?
Her mother bit into a slice of toast
■ and grumbled: “If this butter was spread any thinner, I wouldn’t be able to taste it at all. As for the baby things, we don’t need to worry about that yet. Ethel Platt will see to it.”
“But shouldn’t I be seeing a midwife? Just to make sure that everything is all right?”
“You look perfectly all right to me. I’ve arranged with Ethel for someone to come and help with the birth when the time comes. We don’t want the whole of Nuneaton knowing our business.”
Peggy plucked up the courage to ask: “But what is going to happen after the baby is born? I can’t keep the little thing indoors all the time until Colin comes home.”
Peggy had almost forgotten what it was like to breathe fresh air and feel the sun on her face. She didn’t want the same fate for her baby.
Her mother snorted. “Oh, you still reckon he’ll be coming back, do you? He doesn’t seem to be in any rush to make an honest woman of you. How long is it since you last had a letter from him?”
Peggy blinked back her tears. The worst of it was that her mother wasn’t wrong. Colin hadn’t replied to her letters for months – not even the one in which she had told him she was expecting his baby. Knowing how erratic the post could be, she clung to the hope that a bundle of letters would arrive at once.
The silence was broken by the sound of the front door being shut followed by the heavy tread of Ethel Platt’s footsteps on the stairs. Peggy
didn’t care for her mother’s friend and usually retreated to her room when she arrived each morning.
Plonking herself down on the bed, Mrs Platt announced: “My Fred’s gone up in the world. Instead of being a Local Defence Volunteer, he’s going to be a Home Guard from now on. What do you think of that, then?”
Peggy left the two of them to gossip and not long afterwards heard Mrs Platt letting herself out without even putting her head around the door to say goodbye.
Through the kitchen window she could see their small garden bursting with life and colour. After the long winter and spring, she wished she could be outside enjoying the warm sunshine, but her mother insisted on Peggy staying indoors away from the prying eyes of neighbours.
As usual she was kept busy through the day running up and down the stairs in response to the walking stick being pounded on the bedroom floor. She had just made herself a cup of tea
Peggy felt as though the world was crashing down around her. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying. Show me the telegram!”
and was looking forward to resting her swollen ankles when she heard the all-too-familiar cry: “Peggy! Peggy! Can you hear me, or have you gone deaf? I need some more water.”
She hoisted herself out of the chair and went upstairs. “Look, Mother, you are going to have to start doing a little more for yourself,” she said irritably. “When Colin comes back we’ll be married and then who is going to look after you?”
Her mother’s face was a mask of fury: “How dare you speak to me like that? And how much longer are you going to believe in that pipe dream?” “What is that supposed to mean?” “That Colin of yours won’t be coming back ever. While you were having one of your lie-downs in your room, Mrs Platt took delivery of a telegram. I guessed it was bad news, so I opened it…”
Peggy went white with anger: “You had no right to do that!”
“I was only thinking of you. He must have had you down as his next of kin because it was to inform you that Sergeant Colin Wilson is missing, presumed dead.”
Peggy felt as though the world was crashing down around her. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying. Show me the telegram!”
“I wasn’t going to tell you until after the baby is born, so I asked Ethel to take it away and burn it.”
Peggy stumbled and the floor appeared to rush up towards her. Everything went black and she knew no more until much later. It was dark when she opened her eyes to see an unknown woman bending over her.
The woman said: “That’s right, lovey, just breathe through the pains.”
A contraction gripped her and Peggy realised it must be the person Mrs Platt had arranged to be with her at the birth. As the pains grew stronger, it was all she could do to stop herself screaming and all other thoughts were blotted out.
Through the haze of pain, she heard the woman say: “She’s nearly there. I’ll just put this pad over her nose…”
Something was placed over Peggy’s face and a welcome darkness enveloped her.
The last thing Peggy heard was the cry of a newborn baby and she smiled with relief. It was all over!
About our author
Having worked in social services for many years, Rosie is now a full-time novelist. She has written sequels to three of Catherine Cookson’s trilogies and her latest novel, Time to Say Goodbye, is published on March 5 (£12.99 Zaffre)