Page 130 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
‘Sorry, Aunt Olive—’
‘Well, you’re here now. Come away in, the pair of you.’
The sitting room was still painted in its bright colours and the sombre furniture had been covered over with gaudy blankets and pushed back to allow baby paraphernalia. Joan, her blonde hair swept up in a loose bun and her figure voluptuous in a loose shift and long cardigan, looked up from kneeling on a baby blanket, and smiled.
‘Hello, Joan,’ said Adela, stepping nearer. ‘I hear double congratulations are in order.’
As Joan shifted to one side, Adela saw the baby wriggling on the blanket. She was dressed in a yellow woollen suit, and her starlike hands were waving. She gave out tiny popping noises from her pink bud lips. Adela stopped in her tracks.
‘Hello, Adela. This is Bonnie.’ Joan swept the baby from the blanket and into her arms and stood up. She kissed her daughter’s fluff of fair hair and lapsed into a babyish voice. ‘You’re Mammy’s good little lass, aren’t you, bonny Bonnie? Yes youare! Come and say hello to your cousin Adela. She’s a famous actress. Yes sheis.’
Beaming with pride, Joan advanced towards Adela and held out her baby. Adela froze. She couldn’t look at it. Her eyes met Joan’s. The young woman’s look was bashful, expectant. Adela knew she was longing for her approval. As Adela made no move to take the infant, Joan’s blissful look faltered.
‘Go on, she won’t bite.’
‘Yes, go on,’ encouraged Olive. ‘She’s a little jewel – my first grandchild. I’ve beaten Clarrie there, haven’t I?’ Her aunt gave a small triumphant laugh. It was as if Olive had wiped from her memory that Adela had ever been pregnant or given birth.
Adela felt sick; her pulse began to race. She couldn’t bear to touch the baby. Her heart would shatter into tiny pieces. She took a step backwards.
‘Sorry, I’m hopeless with babies.’ She forced a laugh. ‘Don’t want to drop it ... her.’
Josey intervened. ‘Here, let me. I never get the chance.’ She almost snatched Bonnie from Joan’s arms. The baby wailed at the sudden movement, but Josey walked to the window, joggling her in her arms and singing, ‘I’m Just Wild About Harry’, adapted to Bonnie’s name.
It gave Adela long enough to recover her poise. They stayed half an hour– to Adela each minute was purgatory, as Olive and Joan talked endlessly of the baby– until Bonnie needed feeding. Joan took her baby to the kitchen so Bonnie could suckle in the warmth of the back room. As Josey said goodbye to Olive at the door, Adela braced herself to nip into the kitchen to apologise to Joan. She felt awful for disappointing George’s wife and didn’t want her to think she didn’t like her baby. Joan was sitting in a low chair, the baby snuffling but hidden under a shawl.
‘We’re off now. She’s gorgeous, your Bonnie. Suits the name. Sorry about before.’
Joan eyed her. ‘I know what you’re thinking. That I’m not good enough for George.’
Adela was taken aback. ‘I never thought—’
‘You think I’m too common for your cousin. But now we’re married and everything’s canny.’
‘I’m glad for you.’
‘And it doesn’t matter if the bairn came three months after we were wed. At least Bonnie was born in wedlock and I’ve got a ring on me finger. That’s what matters, isn’t it?’
Adela felt her heart begin to pound. ‘Yes, that’s good.’
Joan gave a pitying look. ‘Not like you.’
For a moment Adela couldn’t breathe. She gripped on to the door frame.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Aye, you do,’ said Joan. ‘I saw you in Cullercoats walking along the cliff when you were supposed to be in Edinburgh. I was on a bus. It was dark, but I could still tell it was you. You were big enough to burst. I never said anything to your family. I felt sorry for you.’
Adela swallowed hard. ‘Thank you.’
‘And I won’t ever,’ said Joan. ‘Just as long as your friend doesn’t go telling tales about me.’
‘Josey?’
‘Aye, her.’ Joan blushed. ‘I was being friendly, that’s all. It’s what us lasses do to help the war effort, isn’t it? We have to bring comfort to the lads.’
Adela was baffled. ‘She won’t say anything against you, I promise.’
‘Did you give your bairn away?’ Joan asked.
