Page 12 of Neighbors at War

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.