She put the teas on the table, and held out her hand. ‘Hello, my name’s Wendy.’
‘Hello.’ The woman hesitated for a moment, then took Wendy’s hand in hers. ‘My name is Margaret. It used to be Margaret Summers, and the book you’re making the shawl from used to be my book, in the days when I thought I might have a baby with Mike.’
Wendy sat with a thud. The room seemed to be spinning around her, and she lowered her head. Margaret stood and moved to stand by her. ‘Do you need a doctor?’
Wendy shook her head, unable to speak. Slowly the whirling vortex that was the WRVS coffee shop ground to a halt and she lifted her head once more. ‘You’re… Margaret?’
‘I am, although no longer Margaret Summers, I’m using my maiden name of Margaret Cassidy now. I do have a partner, but despite this’ – she pointed to her stomach – ‘I won’t marry him. Never again will I be so stupid.’
Wendy sat quietly, not because she wanted to, but because she had no idea what to say to this heavily pregnant woman.
Margaret reached across and clasped Wendy’s hand. ‘You have to get out. You’re not safe living there. Does he hit you?’
Wendy shook her head. ‘Not too often.’
‘Wendy.’ Margaret frowned. ‘The correct answer should have been never. Think of your baby. If he can hit you, a grown woman, what could he do to a tiny baby who is totally defenceless and doesn’t know the constant crying is making Daddy extremely angry?’
‘But he threw you out because you’d had an affair!’
‘No, he didn’t. I left. I ran. I ran with bruises covering almost every part of my body because I had caught him with someone else, and it was the third woman. I forgave him twice. The third time was a step too far. I took one suitcase and left everything else. I couldn’t go to my parents because he would have followed me there, although in all fairness, when he did turn up there demanding he see me immediately, my dad hit him. Knocked him out cold. Apparently, Dad knew about Mike screwing around with all and sundry, but hadn’t told me and hadn’t told Mum. I promise you, Wendy, apart from my present partner, the only man I have ever slept with is Mike Summers. There was never any affair on my part, never even any thought of sex with someone else. The biggest problem between us was I wanted a family, he didn’t. Not ever. Which is why I was so shocked when they called out your name, and you said your husband was Mike. It made sense when you spoke about the old crochet book – I bought that to make some clothes for whenever I had my baby with Mike.’ Margaret gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘Didn’t work out though, did it?’
Wendy pulled her cup of tea towards her. She needed some sort of comfort. ‘What if he’s changed?’
‘Has he? Have you never felt there was something not right, that he was going out too much, that you hadn’t seen him properly for a couple of days? Be honest, Wendy.’
‘He’s had an affair recently. His secretary.’
Margaret gave a sympathetic smile. ‘Ever the secretary. Two out of the three were secretaries of his. The first one was Carol Weston, and I threw such a strop he sacked her. The second one was Paula Newcombe. I didn’t have to throw a strop, he sacked her as well. The third one was some tart at the golf club called Frances. I didn’t stay long enough to find out her surname.’
‘Paula Newcombe?’ Wendy gulped as she said the name.
‘Yeah, she was on the news a few weeks ago because she died in a hit-and-run accident. Do you remember it?’
Wendy nodded. The guilt she thought had subsided to an itch suddenly overwhelmed her once more. ‘He might have sacked her, but he set her on again. She was his secretary when she died.’ Wendy could feel herself trembling. She’d tried so hard to bury the memories of that night, that grief-filled night when she had discovered her husband had a floozy on the side. The woman would still be alive if she’d stayed away from Mike, and not gone back to work for him.
Margaret leaned back in her chair. ‘You know, Wendy, I adored that man. It began to die when I mentioned having a family. He wouldn’t, and made it clear it was a lifetime decision. He wouldn’t change his mind. I hung on and hung on, thinking he would mellow as he got older, but he didn’t. The third affair, if I’m brutally honest, was a relief. I’m in a stable relationship currently, but one I wouldn’t be afraid to walk from, if things deteriorated. Really and truly, it’s me and my baby, and that’s what Mike did for me, turned me into a proper selfish cow.’
Wendy put down her cup. ‘I don’t want any more of that. I feel sick. I’m going home. When’s your baby due?’
‘Beginning of January, so about a month from now. Yours?’
‘Tenth of February. My next appointment is two weeks today.’
Margaret looked at the younger woman. ‘You want to meet again?’
Wendy smiled. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Of course not. I’m here weekly now, because the date is so close, so that means next week and then the week after, which coincides with yours.’ She took out her appointment card. ‘Does three o’clock fit in with your time? We’ll meet in here?’
‘That’s perfect. I have to go, Margaret. I need some thinking time. I presume you know my phone number if you go into early labour, or anything happens to stop you being here.’
‘I do if you’re still in the same house.’
‘We are. I wanted to move but he said no. He seems to say no to most of my suggestions.’
Margaret stood and hugged Wendy. Margaret rummaged in her bag for a piece of paper and wrote down her own phone number. ‘Keep it safe. Ring if you need me. And don’t do anything to anger him, not while you’re carrying this baby.’
My darling Nell,
Today is the 11th of December and I feel so happy. It’s almost Christmas, everything is festive and we’re going out to pick our Christmas tree this weekend.
I can’t wait for the time when you arrive here. I can’t book anything yet until we know the date of the baby’s christening, but as soon as that happens I will book you into the bed and breakfast you mentioned. I’ll pay for everything; I have my own money. It will be worth a million pounds to see you again.
Everything was really good yesterday at the hospital. I had an antenatal visit, and I was soon in and out. Took my crocheting with me, and it’s beautiful. A circular shawl from a really old pattern. You’ll love it when you’re carrying the baby to the font wrapped in it.
I hope you have a wonderful Christmas, try not to get too drunk, and keep yourself safe. I’ve sent you a little gift, so I hope it arrives in one piece.
Love you,
Wendy
PS Don’t worry about me with this impending birth, everything is as it should be, and I’m not afraid. Not a lot, anyway. This baby will be so welcomed into this world. It’s what Mike has always wanted, and he talks about it all the time. He asked after you again last week, and I think he’s really looking forward to your visit, and to meeting his son. He even has me convinced it’s a boy!
11
26th December 1979Hotel Bonavista