Page 83 of The Stranger in Room Six
‘Forget it. Now get on quickly before anyone sees you. The train is about to depart.’ Then she pressed two five-pound notes into her hand. ‘For emergencies,’ she said.
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The train was almost empty.
‘Not many folk are travelling nowadays,’ remarked a woman opposite, who was looking at her with interest.
Mabel was tempted to get up and find a seat in a different carriage but didn’t want to appear rude.
‘I’m going to visit my sister in Penzance for a few weeks,’ continued the woman. The plastic cherries on her hat bobbed as she spoke. ‘To tell you the truth, we weren’t very close before the war but now everything has changed, hasn’t it?’
She eyed Mabel’s well-cut coat curiously. It was a hand-me-down from her aunt and at least two sizes too big but would, she’d said tartly, ‘hide the bulge’.
‘Was that Lady Clarissa I saw putting you on the train?’
Just my luck, thought Mabel. The woman must be local.
‘Yes,’ said Mabel falteringly. ‘I used to work for her.’
‘I see. So where are you going now? Travelling by train isn’t particularly safe; those Germans could bomb us at any minute. What’s your story?’
Mabel felt her chest tighten with anxiety, followed by a light flutter in her stomach.
Cook had told her this could happen. ‘Sometimes it feels like a butterfly flapping its wings,’ she’d said. ‘I was not blessed to be a mother myself, but I’ve heard some tales. You’ll be dead scared. You might even think you’re going to die. But you won’t.’ Then she’d crossed herself. ‘Just make sure they call the doctor in time.’
Mabel was suddenly aware of the cherry-hatted woman waiting for an answer.
‘I’m going to visit a friend,’ Mabel said quickly. It wasn’t exactly true but it would do.
Then Mabel closed her eyes, hoping the stranger would understand and stop asking questions. But she kept going on about how awful the war was and asking whether Mabel had been unlucky enough to lose anyone.
A vision of her beautiful mother and little sister came into her mind. Try as she could, Mabel couldn’t help a tear trickling down her face followed by another. ‘Yes,’ she sniffed.
‘I’m sorry, love. I’ve upset you, haven’t I?’ The woman passed her a lacy handkerchief. ‘There’s me going on and on. My husband, bless his soul, used to say that I talked enough for two wives and more. You look tired, if you don’t mind me saying. Why don’t you have forty winks? Make yourself comfortable. Here – you can have my shawl to wrap round you. No, I insist. Which station are you getting off at? Penzance? Like me, then. That’s good. I’ll let you know when we arrive, although there’s no chance of missing it. It’s at the end of the line. And if you feel hungry on the way, I’ve got plenty here.’ She patted the wicker basket next to her.
‘I like to share what I can,’ she said, taking a slice of ham out of the basket and waving it towards Mabel, who immediately felt queasy.
‘Thank you but I don’t feel hungry at the moment. In fact, I think I might be …’
She only just got to the window in time.
Ugh! Mabel began to cry with shame.
‘It’s all right, dear. Don’t worry. Whoops! There you go again. Get it out. It will feel better that way. Here, love, let me take off your coat. We can wipe you down with my handkerchief.’
Reluctantly, she obeyed.
She cast her eyes over Mabel’s stomach. ‘Ah. So that’s why they’ve sent you away. One of Lady Clarissa’s maids, were you?’
Fortunately she didn’t wait for an answer.
‘Honestly, these people use others and then they get rid of them. Some of them, they say, even support Hitler. The woman’s eyes sparked with new interest. ‘Wasn’t there some trouble with a colonel who lived near Lady Clarissa? Stabbed in court, wasn’t he?’
‘I’d rather not talk about it,’ said Mabel quietly.
‘Of course you wouldn’t. It’s not a nice thing to concern yourself with in your condition. When I was expecting, my mother told me to think of only nice thoughts. Now you just rest. My name’s Beryl by the way. What’s yours?’
‘Mabel,’ she said instinctively. Then immediately she wished she’d kept quiet. ‘But please don’t tell anyone you met me or that I am … pregnant,’ she pleaded.
