Chapter 6

Helen made her way downstairs after a sleepless night. The stress and adrenalin rush from helping Tommy at Villa Millbrook were tiring and she had expected to sleep fitfully, but hearing her aunt coughing through the night had upset her and she couldn't help being frightened at the thought of her aunt's prognosis. Why had she waited until it was too late for treatment? Her aunt had always appeared to be strong yet now her heart was weakened. Helen couldn't imagine life without her beloved aunt. She took a steadying breath. It was her support Sylvia needed now, not someone falling apart.

Helen made them both a cup of tea. When her aunt didn't appear ten minutes later, Helen tried to suppress the nagging sense of unease she had felt since waking. Hoping her aunt was having a lie-in after their emotional discussion the night before, she decided not to disturb her. Aunt Sylvia would be down in time for when she had to leave for work, so she fed Bobby as usual and made herself a bit of toast and a second cup of weak tea while she waited.

It was odd eating breakfast alone. Aunt Sylvia always joined her and mostly rose earlier than she did. Helen's heart ached as it dawned on her that this would be her future if her aunt succumbed to her illness. Her throat tightened and, not wishing to be caught crying when she was supposed to be strong, she wiped away her tears with the heel of her hand. She glanced at the clock and realised she was going to be late if she didn't get a move on. Placing two wooden building blocks on Bobby's highchair tray to keep him entertained, Helen ran upstairs to check on her aunt.

She knocked lightly on the bedroom door. ‘Aunt Sylvia? May I come in?'

Hearing a faint groan, Helen gently turned the handle and pushed the door open. She peeked inside, noisily clearing her throat to alert her aunt to her presence.

The curtains were still closed and the room dark. ‘Aunt Sylvia?' Still hearing no reply, she pushed the door wider and walked in, gasping in horror at seeing her aunt lying grey-faced in her bed. Helen ran to the bedside. Why the hell had she not come up sooner?

‘Aunt Sylvia? Can you hear me?'

Sylvia turned her head slowly towards her and murmured something. Helen couldn't miss the faint sheen of perspiration on her aunt's face.

‘I'm not sure,' she said eventually, her voice croaky. ‘My head hurts dreadfully. I'm sorry, Helen, but I don't think I'm well enough to take care of Bobby today.'

‘Don't worry about that,' Helen said. It took every ounce of her strength to hide her panic. ‘I'll fetch you a cool flannel and some water, then I'll run next door and ask Ida or Babs to look after him while I fetch the doctor.'

Sylvia raised a limp hand. ‘No need.'

‘I don't think we have much choice, Aunty.'

She ran to the bathroom, took a clean flannel from the small cupboard, rinsed it in cool water, wrung it out and returned to her aunt's bedroom. She folded it and rested it lightly on her aunt's forehead.

‘Better?'

‘Yes,' she croaked. ‘Thank you, dear.'

‘I promise I won't be long.' Not wishing to waste a moment, Helen hurried downstairs. She scooped Bobby into her arms and ran next door to number 3.

‘I'm sorry, Mrs Hamel,' Helen said, hating to disturb them so early. ‘But my aunt is extremely unwell, and I need to fetch a doctor. Would you mind if I leave Bobby here with you while I phone his surgery?'

‘Sylvia, unwell?' She pulled her cardigan tightly around her, folded her arms across her chest and scowled. ‘What's wrong with her?'

Helen swallowed tears. ‘I think she's dying.' It pained her to say the words but she knew it was something she needed to face.

Seeing shock register on her neighbour's face made her wish she had been a little more sensitive, but it was too late now, and she had no time to waste. ‘May I leave Bobby with you while I run to the telephone box?'

Ida nodded. ‘Pass him over.'

‘Thank you,' Helen said relieved. ‘I promise I'll be as quick as I can.'

* * *

‘Hospital, you say?' Ida asked, her eyes wide with surprise, forty-five minutes later.

‘The doctor drove her there himself a few minutes ago.'

‘You never said what's wrong with her exactly. She's always seemed so strong.'

Helen explained, making sure to be gentler this time.

Ida's hand flew to her chest. ‘Poor Sylvia.'

Helen noticed the time on Ida's mantel clock. She was late for work and now her aunt had been hospitalised she needed to bring in her wage more than ever. She hoped Cook wouldn't mind her taking Bobby in with her. ‘I'm sorry, but I must leave for work. I'm already dreadfully late.' She went to carry Bobby out of the kitchen but Ida reached out to stop her.

‘Hold on a moment. Don't you work at that smart house at Millbrook?' She narrowed her eyes. ‘With all those Nazis?'

Helen wished Mrs Hamel didn't make what she did sound unsavoury. She wondered how she knew where she worked. She doubted that it had come from Babs. Her expression must have shown her thoughts.

Ida shrugged. ‘I've heard people talking at the greengrocers, as you do. Anyway, you can't surely be taking this little one to that place?'

‘I'm sure it'll be fine,' Helen fibbed.

Ida looked aghast. ‘What? This little mite, spending the day among those brutes? What can you be thinking?'

‘What choice do I have?' Helen asked, close to tears.

‘I would keep him,' Ida said. ‘But I need to go out this morning.'

‘It's fine. He's my responsibility.'

Babs had left while Helen was helping the doctor take her aunt to his car, and with no one else to ask, Helen thanked Mrs Hamel and left. After fetching Bobby's pram and his bag, with everything he might need for the day, she set off towards Millbrook, grateful that the old-fashioned deep pram her aunt had obtained for her soon after Bobby's birth was still big enough for him.

She pictured her aunt's gaunt face as she was driven away by the doctor. Overwhelmed by the sudden change in her situation, Helen had to stop and take a few deep breaths to steady herself. She needed to be strong, for Sylvia's and Bobby's sake. She pushed back her shoulders and raised her chin. She could do this.

By the time she reached the kitchen, Helen felt perspiration running down her back.

‘Where the devil have you been?' Cook scolded as she watched the pram being pushed into her kitchen. ‘And what on earth do you think you're doing, bringing that baby into this house?'

Helen didn't have a chance to answer before Dulcie ran from the scullery, a dripping saucepan in one hand and cloth in the other, her mouth open.

Helen tried to ignore the girl's shock. Cook knew about her circumstances, but now Dulcie would, too. She would rather her situation not be common knowledge, but it was too late to worry about that now.

‘I'm very sorry, Mrs Jeune,' she said, just as Bobby began wailing. ‘Aunt Sylvia has been taken to Overdale Hospital this morning and our neighbour has errands to run. I wasn't sure what else to do so I brought him with me.'

Cook wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to close the kitchen door. Then, going to the pram, she peered at the screaming child. ‘There's an orphanage at Sacre Coeur, not too far from here,' she said matter-of-factly. ‘You could make arrangements for him to be taken in there.'

Helen couldn't speak. How could Mrs Jeune think her capable of abandoning her baby? ‘Why would you even suggest such a thing?' She hadn't meant to be rude but had to say something even if it meant her losing her job.

Cook glared at her. ‘You can wipe that indignant look off your face for a start. I only mentioned Sacre Coeur because they also have a nursery for little ones whose mothers work.'

Mortified to have misunderstood, Helen lowered her eyes. ‘Sorry. I thought you meant?—'

‘I'm well aware what you thought.' She indicated Bobby, who was now puce in the face from screaming. ‘If you want to keep him here you'll need to keep him quiet. We can't afford to let the Kommandant hear this racket, or you'll be out of a job and I'm too busy to lose you.'

Helen sensed that, despite the harsh tone, Cook was looking out for her and Bobby.

‘I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought him here, but I don't know many people and didn't know who to ask. I don't want to get anyone into trouble, not when you and Mrs Edwards have been so kind to me.'

‘Mrs Edwards knows you have a baby?' Dulcie asked, reminding them both she was there.

Cook spun round and pointed to the scullery. ‘Get that dripping pot back into the basin, then come back and make us both a cup of tea.' She jabbed her stubby finger at Dulcie's chest and Helen immediately felt sorry for the girl, who was only being curious.

‘Yes, Cook.'

Helen watched as Dulcie slunk out of the room.

‘Right, madam,' Cook said, turning her attention back to Helen. ‘Comfort that baby before the entire Wehrmacht come running to this kitchen.'

Helen picked him up and cuddled him, but when he didn't quieten and she had checked his nappy was clean, she wondered if maybe she should try feeding him. Unsure what to do, she tried to think how to broach the subject.

Cook gave her a knowing look. ‘Dulcie, whatever are you doing in there? Get out here now and make us that tea.'

The girl returned to the kitchen. Mrs Jeune immediately picked up one of the chairs and carried it to the scullery, placing it down near a small table. ‘There. You look after Bobby and come out when you're ready.'

Helen thanked her, grateful for the privacy to feed him. As soon as Bobby had latched onto her breast, she began to relax, relieved to have a few minutes alone with him to gather her thoughts.

As she stroked his downy hair Helen thought how the events of the morning had shown how precarious her position was on the island. She lived in her aunt's home and Aunt Sylvia was the only person close to her. She missed her parents and even her brother, with whom she had mostly squabbled. Even Richard. Especially Richard, she realised, despite how their relationship had ended.

She heard plates clattering and wondered how long she could expect to keep her job if she didn't find someone to care for Bobby. If only she hadn't been so hasty running away from home and taking the ferry to Jersey without even giving her parents the chance to allow her to stay. The shock of discovering that she was pregnant and then, on the same day, that Richard wasn't free to marry her had been shattering.

Bobby made a contented sound and Helen knew that despite her predicament she wouldn't swap him for anything or anyone.

‘You all right in there?' Mrs Jeune asked from the other side of the scullery door.

‘Yes, thank you.' Helen wished she could have remained in the peaceful room for a bit longer but had pushed her luck more than enough already. ‘Coming now.'

She rearranged her clothes with her free hand, glad she had become more adept at doing so as the months passed. She wondered how long she would keep producing milk and hoped it would be for a while yet. At least her milk was free. She kissed her sleeping baby's forehead, relieved he was calm now.

Helen opened the door and joined Cook and Dulcie in the kitchen. She ignored Dulcie's judging glare and settled Bobby in his pram before returning to the scullery to fetch the chair and return it to the kitchen.

‘Sit down and drink this,' Cook said, pushing a cup and saucer towards her. Dulcie mumbled something under her breath. ‘I don't know what you just said, my girl,' Cook snapped. ‘But whatever it is, keep it out of my kitchen. Now, bring a plate with a few of those biscuits I baked yesterday. I think we could all do with one.'

Brightening instantly, Dulcie did as Cook asked and came back to sit with them.

Helen waited for the women to take a biscuit each. She knew she needed to address her situation with Dulcie.

‘I know me having a baby is a bit of a shock for you, Dulcie.'

Dulcie opened her mouth to reply, but caught Cook's warning glare and picked up her teacup instead.

Helen was grateful for the support but felt the need to explain herself. ‘I think Dulcie deserves an explanation if I'm to stay working here.' She hoped Cook wouldn't disagree.

‘If you like.' Cook took a sip from her cup.

‘Thank you.' Helen tried to work out exactly what to say.

‘I thought you was a nice girl,' Dulcie said.

‘That's enough of that, Dulcie.' Cook snapped.

‘I'm aware what people think of me, Mrs Jeune, and that's fine,' Helen said in Dulcie's defence.

‘It is not fine,' Cook argued. ‘I will not have people judging others in my kitchen. If Mrs Edwards approves of you working in this house and I'm happy for you to assist in my kitchen, then that's all Dulcie needs to know.'

Mrs Jeune was far more understanding than most. Helen wondered if maybe something similar happened to someone close to her, or was she simply a very accepting person?

‘I appreciate your kindness, I really do, but I want Dulcie to understand that I had expected to marry Bobby's father, but it wasn't to be.'

Dulcie's face softened slightly. ‘Did he die?'

Cook slammed her cup onto her saucer so hard Helen was surprised it didn't smash the porcelain. ‘Dulcie. You've been told more than you needed to hear, and I'll thank you to keep whatever questions you might have to yourself. Do you understand?'

Dulcie's eyes lowered. ‘Yes, Cook. Sorry, Helen. I didn't mean to offend.'

‘It's fine,' Helen said hoping to defuse the situation.

* * *

The day passed slowly and Helen only needed to interrupt her work a couple of times to take care of Bobby before the day finally ended. It was a relief to be able to go home.

She fetched her coat. ‘Thank you for your understanding today, Mrs Jeune.'

‘No need for thanks, Helen. If your aunt is still at Overdale tomorrow, I don't mind you bringing the little un back here. He's been no trouble today, not really. I wouldn't do it every day, mind. And he's getting bigger and will soon want to move around. But for the time being you may bring him with you if you have no alternative.'

Helen couldn't believe her luck. ‘That's very kind of you. Thank you.'

She walked home feeling less panicky about the following day. As she passed First Tower and neared Tynemouth Terrace her thoughts returned to her aunt and what she would soon have to face. Helen took a deep breath, desperate not to cry in public.

It had been devastating having to face a future without Richard, but losing her aunt was unimaginable. She didn't know if she had the strength to deal with it.