Page 46 of Neighbors at War

She carried Bobby downstairs, raising his chubby hand and kissing it. ‘You’re such a handsome boy,’ she cooed, noticing that his eyes were the image of Richard’s and wondering why she hadn’t seen it before. Probably, she thought, because she hadn’t wanted to. Now that she had prepared the telegram, she was eager to send it and decided to leave early for work to give her time to do it.

‘Good morning, Aunty,’ she said, smiling as her aunt waited for her to put Bobby into his highchair before kissing the top of his head.

‘You’re looking pleased with yourself,’ her aunt said a twinkle in her tired eyes. ‘You’ve written it, haven’t you?’

‘I have.’ She took the piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to her aunt. ‘Sit down and read it, then you can tell me what you think while I put the kettle on.’

Helen didn’t mind not eating breakfast, especially as Cook usually had something tasty when she arrived at work, but she wasn’t comfortable with her aunt going without.

‘I’ll bring some food home for our supper,’ she promised, dropping the tea leaves they had left out to dry the previous evening into the teapot and watching as her aunt read her words. ‘What do you think?’

‘You’ve managed to convey a lot in twenty-five words.’

‘I’m happy to change anything you think might give the wrong impression.’

‘If you mean the bit where you let him know he has a son, then I think that’s well done.’ She held the note out for Helen to take. ‘This is good. Well done. Make sure you send it today.’

‘You needn’t worry about me changing my mind.’ Helen laughed. She was looking forward to sending it, now that she had worked out what to say.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

HELEN

March 1942

Helen sensed a different atmosphere in the house as soon as she woke. Her aunt’s health had continued to deteriorate, and the cool spring weather hadn’t helped alleviate her symptoms. She knew without checking on her that something dreadful had happened. Not wishing to take Bobby to Sylvia’s room, she lowered him into his playpen, ignoring his protests, and ran upstairs to her aunt’s room. Standing outside the door Helen struggled to find the strength to enter, her fear at what she might discover making her feel lightheaded.

Knowing she couldn’t delay going inside any longer, Helen took a steadying breath and, without allowing herself to think, put her hand on the doorknob and turned it. She pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside.

Even with the curtains closed Helen couldn’t mistake her aunt’s slightly opened eyes staring ahead, unseeing. It was clear she had passed away.

Helen dropped to her knees by the bed and took Sylvia’s cool, lifeless hand in hers. ‘Please don’t leave me,’ she sobbed, unable to bear the thought that this woman who had been everything to her and Bobby had gone.

Struggling to control her grief, she knew she had to do something. Had to tell someone.

Remembering her aunt’s words about staying strong for Bobby, she knew she had to keep her promise. Fresh tears flowed down her face. She couldn’t move away from the bed, certain she couldn’t take any more heartache.

‘Come along now,’ she cried, repeating words her aunt had said to her when she was finding things difficult. ‘You can do this. You must do this for Bobby, and for Aunt Sylvia.’

Saying her aunt’s name brought on a fresh wave of grief. She struggled to regain her composure, but hearing Bobby’s yells from downstairs knew she needed to pull herself together somehow. Unable to cover her aunt’s face, she straightened the bedclothes, ensuring they were over her aunt’s shoulders. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, Aunty. I’ll make sure Bobby never forgets you.’

She stood and went over to the window and drew the curtains, then carried her aunt’s full glass of water down to the kitchen. Forcing herself to think, Helen realised she needed someone to sit with Bobby while she went to phone the doctor. She picked him up and carried him next door, only knocking once before Babs opened the door.

‘Helen? You look… Whatever’s happened?’ She looked past Helen before taking her arm and leading her inside. ‘Mum?’ She pushed the door closed. ‘Mum!’

Unable to form any words, Helen stood in the hallway. She was vaguely aware of Babs taking Bobby from her arms and being led trembling into the living room, then Peggy was crouching in front of her, a hand on each arm of Helen’s chair.

‘Put this around her shoulders. She needs something warm to drink.’

Helen looked up to see Mrs Hamel standing in front of her.

‘What’s happened, Helen?’ Peggy asked, her voice gentle.

Helen tried to clear her thoughts, then remembered and started to cry. ‘Aunt Sylvia. She’s…’

‘I think I know,’ Ida said her voice gentle. ‘I’ll go next door. Babs, you make that tea and find food for the little one to eat. Peggy, you stay here with Helen.’

It wasn’t until later, when Helen woke in a strange room, that she remembered what had happened. Where was Bobby? She sat bolt upright and went to get up, but Peggy appeared from somewhere and sat on the edge of the bed, gently pushing her back down.