The Last Perfect Summer of Richard Dawlish Page 5

  Dottie felt alarmed at the idea of the baby being on the floor, which was none too clean. ‘Are you sure she won’t roll away, or, or...?’

  ‘Oh no, my dear, she’s too young to do that. And there’s no draught coming under the door, so you don’t need to worry yourself about that. Once I’ve finished here I’ll get my granddaughter to come over with some things. She can help you take the baby back to your hotel and stay with you tonight, as I’m sure you’ll welcome the help.’

  Dottie thanked her warmly, relieved beyond measure at the thought that she wouldn’t be alone with the baby all night. Then hopefully, in the morning George would arrive, and take the baby back to Flora. Surely they would take the baby? Surely they would? She would ring them as soon as she got back to the hotel. They had to be told about Diana, and the baby, and... She shrank from the thought of what she would say to George. Poor George. His only sister, and younger than him by a number of years... At the nurse’s reminder, she finished her tea, then poured another cup, realising now that breakfast had been a long time ago, and she was both thirsty and hungry. She ate some bread and butter very quickly indeed. She still felt upset, but she was calmer and steadier. The nurse had a cup of tea, chatting amiably about this and that, and watching Dottie closely for signs of shock. Then she collected her things in preparation to leave. Dottie experienced a moment of panic.

  As if sensing this, the nurse turned to her with a smile. ‘Now, my dear, don’t you fret. Everything will be all right. My granddaughter will be with you in half an hour or so, and I presume your brother-in-law will be here tonight or tomorrow morning? And no doubt he’ll bring his own nursery maid or nurse with him?’

  Dottie had no idea, but it certainly made sense. If only he would come. What if he wouldn’t, what if...? But no, no, he would come, she knew he would. George was sweet and kind, and a good man through and through. He would come immediately. With this realisation, she felt the sense of panic leaving her. The nurse came over and patted Dottie’s hand. ‘I’ll be off now. I’ll speak to the mortuary to come and take the poor lady. Then if you will be so kind as to just give my name and address to the family, I’ve written it down on this bit of paper, then they can make the proper arrangements, whatever they want to do.’ She paused and looked at Dottie with sympathy. ‘Well done, my dear, the doctor said you did very well. I expect it’s your first time. When you have your own little ones, you’ll have a bit of an idea of what to expect.’

  ‘Death?’ Dottie gave a bitter laugh that turned into a sob.

  ‘You’ll do very well, my dear, a good healthy sensible girl like you. Just don’t get yourself into trouble. You find yourself a nice man and marry him first.’ And with another smile, and a gentle pat on Dottie’s shoulder, she left.

  Silence settled about Dottie. The baby slept contentedly enough on the floor, wrapped in Dottie’s jacket. Dottie waited for the nurse’s granddaughter to arrive, counting the long minutes.

  Chapter Five

  A KNOCK ON THE DOOR woke Dottie. She called out, ‘Come in,’ and fumbled to look at her watch in the near-dark room. Almost half past nine. It had been forty-eight minutes since the nurse left, and Dottie felt guilty at the realisation that she had fallen asleep. A glance at the little bundle on the floor showed the baby was awake, staring at Dottie with those knowing eyes. As the door opened, Dottie wondered if it might be the hotel proprietor, coming to check on the damage done to her reputation, but it turned out to be a young woman carrying a great pack with her.

  ‘Miss Dottie?’ the girl asked shyly. Dottie leapt up, holding out her hand in welcome. ‘My nanna sent me over, said you needed a bit of help.’

  ‘I certainly do! Thank you so much for coming,’ Dottie said with feeling. ‘I don’t know the first thing about babies.’

  The young woman scooped up the baby and cuddled her. ‘My, but she’s a little poppet! What’s her name?’

  ‘She hasn’t a name at present. She’s going to my sister and her husband, and they will name her. Hopefully they should be here tomorrow. The baby’s mother...’ Dottie couldn’t help glancing towards the bed.

  The young woman followed her look and seeing the shape under the sheet, crossed herself. ‘Lor, the poor lady! Got herself into trouble, Nanna said? Men are pigs, aren’t they, use you and leave you. Mine were the same. The first two men were, anyway, though the third one, he’s the dearest dad to all my kids, not just the ones we’ve got together. I’m Millie, by the way.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Millie. I’m so grateful to you and your grandmother for all your help. I know nothing at all about babies, I’m afraid. How many have you got?’ Dottie couldn’t help asking, surprised, as she’d thought the girl no older than herself. She glanced back at the bed, biting her lip.

  ‘Well I got the four, and another one on the way.’ The girl patted her slightly plump belly with pride. ‘One and two was gifts from Mr-I-thought-you-knew-I-was-married, number three was from Mr-I-never-said-I-would-marry-you, and number four and this ‘un was from Mr-I-don’t-care-about-the-other-men-I-love-you.’

  ‘You don’t look old enough...’

  ‘I’ll be twenty next month. That’s plenty old enough. I’m glad I’ll be married by the time I’m twenty. We gets married the week before it’s due, so that’s all right. Was beginning to think I’d be an old maid.’ She chuckled heartily. ‘Are you ready for the off, then? Nanna said I was to bring a cab to fetch us back to your hotel? He’s waiting outside. It’s my fella what drives the cab, so we’re in safe hands.’

  Dottie got up, feeling nervous. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Diana’s outline under the sheet. It felt so wrong just to walk out and leave her. Surely they couldn’t—couldn’t just...?

  ‘Do you want me to carry the little one down them stairs, or will you do it, Miss?’

  Dottie hesitated. She couldn’t seem to decide. She looked helplessly at Millie.

  ‘Shall I?’ Millie asked.

  Dottie nodded. ‘I think perhaps you’d better.’

  The girl said, ‘Was there anything of the lady’s that you might want to take? Otherwise I don’t doubt it’ll all get put in the furnace.’

  Dottie looked around, taking in the few possessions Diana had in the room with her. Then she looked at the girl and shook her head. ‘No, there’s nothing.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’

  Again Dottie hesitated. Millie touched her arm, and said softly, ‘You’ve done all you could. It’s time to go, duck.’

  Dottie nodded, fighting back the tears, as she took that first, near-impossible step to the door.

  Then they were going down the stairs, out of the hotel, where the proprietress glowered from the back regions of the hall, and out into the late evening sunshine. A horse-drawn cab was waiting for them, and the cabbie, a robust and handsome young man with wavy deep red hair came forward to open the door and help the ladies up into the cab. As the horse whinnied, Dottie got up first, then took the baby from Millie, who then got in and sat on the bouncing leather seat, and took the baby back again.

  When they reached the hotel, and Millie had embarrassed Dottie somewhat with a rather over-long goodbye kiss with her ‘fella’, whose name was Noah, (and, Dottie thought, who was clearly applying himself in earnest to the Biblical command to care for and increase the population of the earth), they carried the baby into the hotel, Dottie leading the way up the stairs to her room, aware of the oddest sense of unreality, as she couldn’t help contrasting the spotless plush carpets, potted palms and hushed, well-lit corridors with the ‘hotel’ they had just left, where even now, she fervently hoped, some gentlemen from the mortuary were preparing to remove Diana’s remains and carry her to a new resting place. Here nothing was different, but for Diana, and for Dottie herself, nothing was the same.

  They reached the room just as the baby surprised them with her first gentle squalls for food. Dottie half-expected someone to knock on her door and complain about the noise, or demand to know what
was going on, but no one came. Millie set the babe down in the centre of Dottie’s bed and hurriedly began to pull apart the pack she’d brought with her, triumphantly pulling out a small glass bottle with a rubber teat, and settling Dottie into the armchair, she showed her how to feed the hungry infant.

  It was easier than Dottie expected, and she was thrilled with the determined way the baby consumed the whole feed of a couple of ounces. Next, Millie produced mild soap and a soft wash-cloth and towel, and in the little sink in the corner of Dottie’s room, she showed Dottie how to bath the baby, then they put a terry-towelling nappy on her and rubber pants to keep the damp in. Finally, they dressed the baby in a doll-sized knitted vest, bootees and a soft, much-washed babies’ nightgown. By now the baby was almost asleep and Dottie was also yearning to go to bed. As she set the baby down to sleep on the plush seat of the armchair with an old but very soft and warm shawl wrapped about her, Dottie realised with pleasure that she was now far more confident about handling the baby. Even though she wasn’t likely to need to do it, Dottie got Millie to explain to her how to make up the artificial feeding formula. With all this new information, Dottie felt as though she was a fully trained child’s nurse. The contented baby slept, and Dottie couldn’t believe what a little wonder she was, so quiet, so good.

  Dottie made the most of Millie’s company and excused herself for half an hour to go and make some telephone calls, and to order a late dinner for them both to be sent up to her room. Dottie stepped into the hotel manager’s office to explain, in case there should be any complaints, that she now had a newborn baby temporarily staying in her room with her. The man was understanding and politely helpful, even though Dottie could see he desperately wanted to ask how the child came to be there, but didn’t quite dare. He seemed quite relieved when she said that the child would shortly be taken to its new home.

  Dottie’s first call was to Flora and George. Cissie, Flora’s maid answered, and Dottie asked for Flora. Dottie waited, feeling a little nervous. What would she say? How do you tell someone something so awful? It seemed like an age before Flora arrived, and as she came to the phone, Dottie could hear her sister laughing and calling something over her shoulder to a guest. They had visitors. Then Flora’s voice, soft, concerned, came down the line.

  ‘Dottie, dear, is everything all right? Father said...’

  ‘Oh Flora, it’s so terrible. It’s Diana, oh the baby...’ And Dottie, suddenly sobbing, and in a muddled way blurted it all out. Flora was silent. At last, Dottie heard Flora call, quite sharply, ‘George, dear, I need you! Now, please, darling!’

  By the time the second lot of three minutes was up, a shocked George had been taken by Greeley the butler into his study to sit down with a glass of brandy, and Flora had promised to talk to him, and to her and Dottie’s parents, then telephone Dottie back within an hour to let her know what had been decided.

  Dottie returned to the room, relieved at the sharing of her burden. Her heart went out to George, as he dealt with not only his own sense of loss, but the decision made by his parents to send their daughter away. Flora had said he was incoherent with rage and grief.

  Millie and Dottie ate their hot food, talking little, and with all their eyes on the little one sleeping on the chair. As soon as the food was finished and the plates cleared away, Dottie went back downstairs to wait by the telephone, even though she knew it would be another twenty minutes at least before Flora would be likely to call.

  As she waited, she saw the man who looked a little like William Hardy walking along the hall to the lounge, and on his arm, his lady. Or wife? Or sister? He smiled and nodded at Dottie and she managed a stiff little nod in return.

  It was her father who rang her back, not Flora. He was shocked and angry, but not with her. She was relieved to hear him say they would leave for Scarborough the next day. ‘We’ll be with you as soon as we can. We’re not leaving until about nine o’clock: we’ve got to wait for an infants’ nurse to arrive from Gravesend, then we shall be starting immediately. It’ll be your mother and myself, and George, and the nurse of course, so could you reserve our rooms for us, my love?’

  ‘Is George taking the baby back with him?’

  ‘Yes, of course. He insists he and Flora will raise the child. Flora is in complete agreement, he said, which I admit I half-expected. George is naturally terribly upset, and he refuses to consider any other course of action, in any case. He’s spoken to his father—and told him he never wants to see him again. No doubt, given time... But who knows. It seems barbaric, and George is furious. I’ve never seen him like this, he’s usually such an amiable fellow. But that they could have done this to his own sister, to their own daughter.’ Mr Manderson paused and took a steadying breath. ‘Are you sure you’re quite all right, Dottie dear?’

  Dottie spent another minute reassuring him, then they said good night. Dottie went to see the manager again, this time to reserve the rooms, then she returned to her own room, relieved beyond measure.

  She got ready for bed, and Millie settled herself to sleep in the other armchair, even though Dottie had pointed out that the bed was plenty big enough for two slim girls and that Millie had her own unborn baby to think about. But Millie was happy to sleep in the armchair. She had unpacked a few more nappies and had four more bottles of artificial feeding formula made up ready for the baby. She was keeping the bottles cool in the sink, which was filled with cold water.

  ‘That should be enough to keep you going for a bit. If your sister’s hubby and the nurse are delayed, we’ll need to get some more made up in the morning. But if they are on time, I won’t bother, the nurse is bound to have everything she’ll need, I’m sure. She’ll know what to do, and probably better than me. They can be quite scary, these nurses!’

  As soon as Dottie put out the light to sleep, the baby started to wail. They took turns to shush her and cuddle her, they changed her again, and all was well until the light was turned off again. In the end, they left the light on, reasoning that it was up to Flora’s nurse to develop a routine. At least, Dottie thought as she finally fell into an uneasy sleep, the little one had a good pair of lungs on her.

  Dottie’s parents arrived the next day in time for a late lunch. Her brother-in-law, George, was with them, along with Hudson, a hastily engaged but highly recommended infants’ nurse.

  Dottie had got up that morning feeling calm and reasonably well-rested. She and Millie took turns to go down to breakfast, at Dottie’s expense—or rather, her father’s—and Millie made Dottie laugh at her exclamations about the hotel’s extensive range of foods. Then Dottie waited for what felt like an eternity in the entrance hall, glad to be able to leave the baby in Millie’s care. It was almost three o’clock when George’s car halted outside the hotel. Dottie watched with perfect composure through the glass doors as they got out of the car and stretched the journey from their bones. But as soon as George came into the lobby, she faltered. She took a step forward, her smile turned into a half-sob, and she halted. Not caring about those around them, George snatched off his hat and crossed the room almost at a run and wrapped Dottie in a tight hug, tears streaming down his face. Dottie’s fragile composure deserted her, and she sobbed openly on his shoulder.

  Somehow her parents got them upstairs to Dottie’s room where they could be private. Lunch was ordered, as her family had journeyed without stopping from London, a distance of some 240 miles, and were in need of something to eat and drink. Dottie introduced the new arrivals to Millie, and of course, the tiny baby.

  It had been years since Dottie had seen her mother hold a small baby, and she was surprised by the tender confidence her mother showed as she took the infant from Millie and held her. The men crowded round, George wiping his eyes on a scarlet handkerchief, and blowing his nose vigorously. He was greatly embarrassed by his display of emotion, but Dottie had always adored him and felt that the emotion became him.

  The baby was admired and cooed over. Everyone commented on her tiny fingers
and dainty features, on her quiet composure and staring, interested eyes. It was a relief for Dottie, not just to see that they were so ready to accept and love the child, but that there was no inclination to reject or disapprove in spite of her unorthodox arrival into the world.

  After a short consultation with the new nurse, Millie took her leave, receiving with astonishment a discreetly passed ten pound note and George’s thanks for her trouble. He kissed her cheek and the young woman went away blushing and bursting to tell her family all about it. George’s new nurse, Hudson, took over, tsking at the way the nappy had been folded. She busily unpacked her bag to supply one of her own choosing. The baby was quiet under her ministrations, and Dottie hoped that the nurse would be kind and gentle as well as efficient. It was true that she came highly recommended, but she was older than Dottie had hoped, and rather too bristling with the correct way to do things.

  It took the best part of an hour for Dottie to tell them everything that had happened, but she was determined to hold nothing back. She had necessarily to explain how she came to know about Diana’s predicament, so she told them about William Hardy, her conversation with him on the train, and this had to include his marriage proposal. She felt a little surprised at her own calm manner as she related the whole event, given that the very thought of it made her want to collapse in tears on her bed, but other than the trembling of her hands as she folded and unfolded her napkin, or twisted the button on the edge of her sleeve, she betrayed none of her feelings. She saw her parents exchange a look, but they said nothing. Neither they nor George seemed surprised to hear she had accepted Hardy’s proposal. It was a relief to talk about the whole thing. Only now did she realise that for her family Hardy’s proposal, and her acceptance of it, had been a foregone conclusion. Would they think her foolish for retracting her consent? She felt very foolish now, as she told them about her impulsive departure from the train at York and what amounted to a firm rejection of William Hardy and their engagement. She fought back a fresh flow of tears and tried to concentrate on Diana’s story. What her family thought about her revelation was impossible to fathom, but they were kindness itself.