Page 87 of The Stranger in Room Six
‘But –’
‘No buts. We insist.’
Mabel went upstairs to write. As she did so, the baby fluttered again. The idea of sleeping in a bus shelter with her unborn child now seemed irresponsible. Perhaps she could ask her aunt to collect her instead.
Dear Aunt,
You will have heard of the terrible bombing in Penzance by now. Please give my condolences to Cook.
Two sisters have given me shelter but I do not trust them. One talks of why I’ve been brought to her ‘of all people’ and I fear that she has done something wrong in her past. Please come and get me. This is my address …
She wrote a brief note to Cook, giving the same details, in case she had news of Antonio. Then she set off for the post office.
‘Ah, you’re the young lady staying with Olive Fish,’ said the jolly woman behind the counter.
‘Yes,’ she said, hoping she wouldn’t be engaged in conversation.
‘You’ll be doing Miss Olive a favour – and Beryl too. They’ve never been the same since Kitty went.’
‘Kitty?’
‘Didn’t they tell you?’
The woman took on the air of someone about to impart a tasty titbit of gossip. ‘Kitty was their little sister. Shortly before the war, she was engaged to be married but her gentleman friend broke it off. She’d got into the family way by then and they tried to keep it quiet. Olive had just finished training as a midwife so it was planned they would deliver her at home. Unfortunately, things went wrong and both baby and mother died.’
Mabel gasped. ‘How dreadful!’
‘The doctor said he should have been called beforehand, but Olive had wanted to prove her skills as a midwife. She hasn’t practised since. It’s why the two sisters haven’t been getting on so well. When we heard that Beryl was coming to stay, we hoped the war might bring them back together. They’re good souls.’
So that’s what Olive had meant by ‘to me of all people’. The thought of staying in a house where a baby had died felt like a bad omen.
Maybe she should speak to her aunt – it would be quicker than the letter she’d just sent. ‘Is there a telephone I could use here, please?’
‘Only for emergencies, I’m afraid, love.’
‘Thisisan emergency,’ she faltered.
‘Is it now?’ The postmistress seemed to study her for a minute and then something gave in her eyes. ‘Very well. The phone’s in the back.’
Surrounded by piles of tins and boxes of apples, Mabel lifted the receiver and gave the operator her aunt’s number.
She expected Cook or maybe Frannie to pick it up but instead she heard her aunt’s crisp, well-modulated voice.
‘Aunt Clarissa. It’s me, Mabel. I have to be quick as I’m using someone else’s telephone. Did you know that Cook’s sister was killed in the bombing raid in Penzance?’
‘Oh, Mabel. That’s dreadful.’ Her aunt seemed genuinely shocked. So the news hadn’t reached them yet.
‘A woman on the train has taken me in. I’m staying with her sister, Olive Fish, somewhere near Penzance, a place called Mousehole.’
‘Do they know you’re my niece?’
‘No. I told them that I worked for you as a maid.’
‘Good.’ Her aunt’s voice grew thoughtful. ‘Send me their names and address –’
‘I already have done. I posted you a letter just now.’
‘Please don’t interrupt. It’s so vulgar. Tell them that I will send them money for your food and keep, as your concerned former employer. But on no account tell them of our blood connection. It would ruin my standing in society if this were to get out.’
