Page 65 of The Stranger in Room Six

It was summer, but the weather wasn’t warm and the Cornish cottage was cold at night.

Even so, Mabel often woke sweating from her dreams. Sometimes she was running into her mother’s arms or playing with her little sister.

At other times, she opened the front door of the Old Rectory to find Papa coming up the drive in his uniform.

Often, she was in Antonio’s arms. Or holding a baby.

‘Pregnancy gives you strange dreams,’ said Beryl when Mabel confided as much over breakfast.

Olive made no comment. Mabel couldn’t quite make her out. Sometimes she gave firm pieces of advice, such as bedrest, and at other times she appeared to ignore the fact that Mabel was growing larger week by week.

‘Lady Clarissa has sent us money for your food and keep,’ said Beryl. ‘Of course, we would be happy to do it for free. However, I won’t deny that it helps. She sounds very kind.’

Mabel simply nodded, not trusting herself to say any more.

I feel as though I have been transplanted into another world, Mabel had written in her last letter to Antonio.

The sisters are very caring but I can tell they are anxious.

Of course, everyone is. We simply don’t know when this war is going to end.

I can only pray that it will be soon and that our child will be born into a safer world.

To give myself courage, I hum our special song, ‘Bella Ciao’.

Then she sent the letter to the Italian prisoner-of-war camp with the words Please forward on the envelope.

Please let someone pass it on to Antonio, wherever they had sent him! She also wrote to Papa in the camp where the Red Cross had found him.

But she didn’t receive a reply from either. Nor did she dare mention it to the sisters. What would they say if she knew was pregnant with the enemy’s child?

Not long after that, when she went down to the harbour, she heard the fishermen talking excitedly. ‘Looks like Italy might soon be on our side, then,’ said one.

‘I still wouldn’t trust them – not long ago, they were killing our boys.’

So Italy might not be their enemy for long! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? If only these men knew Antonio like she did, they would realize how many kind Italians there were, forced to fight for their country just like the British.

Meanwhile, the doctor who examined Mabel declared himself happy with her progress. She reported this as well as everything else in her letters, still hoping they might get to their destination.

I think of you, Antonio, every day, she wrote. I gaze across the sea and imagine that we are picking olives in the groves you told me about, drinking juice squeezed from the oranges that grow on the trees! I am helping you with your family wine press …

Then she stopped. Was she presuming too much? Supposing Antonio didn’t want the responsibility of a child. Was that why he hadn’t written back?

Maybe, she wrote in her next letter, you do not want a girl who gave herself so freely. I hope you do not think I am ‘cheap’, as my aunt says. I love you, Antonio. I thought we could call our baby after you if it is a boy. What do you think?’

Still, there was no reply. At times she told herself the letters weren’t being passed on.

At other times, she thought he didn’t care.

Summer roses bloomed and the sea was warm enough to paddle in.

But Mabel no longer allowed her heart to flutter with hope when she heard the postman’s step on the cobbled street outside.

I must accept my situation, she told herself. Thankfully, Beryl had extended her stay, which meant she wouldn’t be left alone with Olive.

‘I don’t want to be a burden on you,’ Mabel had told Beryl after hearing this.

‘You’re not, love. I want to be here when you go into labour, but I also want to spend more time with my sister. You’ve brought us closer after we lost Kitty. It was too much to expect from Olive. She wasn’t experienced enough to deal with the birth …’

She put a hand on her chest. ‘Oh dear, I shouldn’t have said anything.’

Mabel took her hand. ‘It’s all right. I know. The lady at the post office told me.’

Beryl’s mouth tightened. ‘Can’t keep anything to herself, that woman.’ Tears glistened in her eyes. ‘You know, dear, you even look a little like Kitty.’

‘Do I?’

Beryl brought out a dark green photograph album and flicked through some pages with a fond look on her face. ‘See?’ she said.

Mabel couldn’t spot a similarity at all. For a start, Kitty’s nose was much smaller than hers and she had dark hair rather than auburn. Maybe Beryl and Olive wanted her to be like their sister to make up for their loss.

‘My … My former employer Lady Clarissa says that after my baby is born, it has to be adopted,’ she said with a little sob.

‘Does she indeed?’ said Olive coming into the room. ‘What gives her the right to say that?’

‘She says it’s because I’m too young and can’t choose for myself.’

‘Nonsense. She has no right to tell you what to do. It’s not as if she’s your mother. Besides, there are plenty of girls who start young. I saw them myself when I was training. In fact, it can be an advantage – your bones are more supple, so it’ll be easier to give birth.’

This was another thing Mabel had been wondering about but hadn’t dared ask the male doctor.

‘How does it actually happen?’

‘How does what happen?’

Mabel felt her face begin to flush. ‘How does the baby come out of me?’ she eventually managed. ‘Is it through my tummy button? It seems very small.’

‘Your tummy button, love?’ Beryl burst into peals of laughter. ‘Now there’s an idea. The truth is, love, that it comes out from between your legs.’

‘But what if … I mean suppose I … Well, what if I need the lavatory at the same time?’

Beryl’s laughter turned to tears of mirth. ‘You’re a rum one.’

‘No,’ corrected Olive. ‘That’s a very intelligent question. At some point in your labour, you’ll need to push but not until the midwife tells you to.’

‘Don’t worry her,’ said Beryl, who had stopped laughing.

‘I’m not. Am I, Mabel?’

Actually, she was, but Mabel didn’t want to say so. ‘I feel a bit tired now. Is it all right if I lie down?’

‘Of course, love. Off you go.’

But as she went upstairs, she heard them fretting. ‘I know you’re trying to sound calm in front of Mabel,’ Beryl said, ‘but I can see you’re terrified.’

‘I just keep thinking of Kitty.’

‘This is different. You won’t be delivering the baby.’

‘Because I’m no good as a midwife?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘But it’s true, isn’t it?’

Mabel’s letter to Antonio was brief that night.

I am terrified about giving birth. What if it all goes wrong? Please answer or come and find me. My address is at the top of the letter. Dearest Antonio. Don’t abandon me. Ask the commander for compassionate leave. I need you. I have a bad feeling about this.