break and Dorothy was so grateful to hear it. Her stomach was completely empty, most of its contents down the toilet. She was beginning to feel a little weak and light-headed so was looking forward to tucking into the bread and cheese that her mum had packed for her. It seemed daft that with all the bread, cakes and pies they produced they had to bring their own food, but you could never rely on Mr Epstein’s moods. Sometimes he would let them have any imperfect bakes, but at other times he would refuse and if they didn’t bring their own lunch they’d be left hungry.
Food preparation was the last thing Dottie could face first thing in the morning, especially after braving the freezing cold of the outside lavvy, and since her morning sickness had begun she was grateful that her mum had taken over making her lunch. She knew Alice was still upset about the pregnancy, but had noticed that she’d begun knitting some little matinée coats and booties. She wondered if, as with her, there was a tinge of excitement setting in. Alice had warned her that, once the pregnancy was out in the open, she should expect a barrage of abuse from the locals, but Dorothy didn’t care any more. She was blinded by love for the baby growing inside her and couldn’t wait to meet her daughter or son. She was sure her mother was beginning to feel the same way too.
Dorothy eagerly grabbed her wrapped sandwiches from her locker and joined her friend in the small staff room. She was desperate to tell Nelly her secret, but had promised her mother to keep quiet for as long as possible. ‘I’m absolutely famished, Nelly. I could eat a horse,’ she said, eagerly unwrapping her sandwich before her bottom was properly seated.
‘Blimey, Dottie, slow down or you’ll give yourself a bellyache,’ Nelly said, then looked at Dorothy’s stomach, her eyes narrowing.
Dorothy looked down too, and saw she had a bit of a bulge. Half of her wanted Nelly to cotton on, but the other half was reminded of Alice’s warnings.
‘Dottie, don’t take offence, sugar, but I’ve gotta say … you’re getting a bit of a tummy on you. You might want to slow up on that bread and cheese. I mean, you don’t want to end up looking like me!’ Nelly said and laughed a big, bellowing chuckle as she patted her wobbling stomach.
Dorothy didn’t laugh along with her friend, but instead gave her a knowing look in the hope that Nelly would guess the truth. Slowly, as the penny dropped, Dorothy could see it dawning on Nelly and the woman’s laugh turned into a look of astonishment.
‘My God, Dottie … have you got a bun in the oven?’ Nelly whispered.
Dorothy nodded her head. ‘Please don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.’
‘Oh, blimey! I won’t say a word, I promise. I assume it’s Robbie’s?’
‘Of course it is. Who else would it be? But he doesn’t know anything about it. I still don’t know where he is, and neither does his brother Adrian.’
‘Bloody hell, Dottie, what are you going to do? You ain’t married so surely you can’t keep it.’
Dorothy noted the look of horror on her friend’s face and felt disappointed. She’d hoped Nelly would be as excited about the baby as she was. ‘If you’re suggesting adoption, forget it. I’m keeping my baby, and until Robbie shows his face Adrian is going to help us out. You’ll see, Nelly, once Robbie knows I’m pregnant he’ll come back to marry me and everything will be all right.’
‘Yeah, you live in cloud cuckoo land if it pleases you,’ Nelly said sarcastically, ‘but I’m telling you straight, that man will never marry you. Never in a month of Sundays.’
‘I don’t care what you say. I know Robbie loves me, and he will come back. When he does he’ll love his baby too,’ Dorothy retorted, but then her tone softened. ‘Nelly, please, I don’t want to fall out with you about Robbie again. I’m really happy about this baby and I hoped you would be too.’
After a long pause, Nelly finally answered, ‘I can’t believe you’re happy with being up the duff without a husband. I think you’ve got a long, hard road ahead of you, but if you’re determined to have this so-called love child then you’re going to have to toughen up ’cos you know what people are like around here. You’re going to need a friend and I’ll be that friend, but I don’t want to hear no more nonsense about that Robbie.’
Thanks, probably, to her haywire hormones, and despite what Nelly said about Robbie, Dorothy still felt like crying happy tears. Nelly would stand by her and that felt good. She was fully aware that few others would. The neighbours and locals would be judgemental and no doubt she’d be ostracised by them, and by the other staff in the bakery. Now, though, there was some compensation in knowing that Nelly was there for her.
‘Thanks, Nelly. And it’s a deal. I won’t mention him to you again,’ Dorothy said.
‘Good, I’m glad to hear it.’
Dorothy took another bite out of her sandwich. She might not be able to talk about Robbie, but nothing could stop her from thinking about him, and praying that one day soon he’d come back to her.
Adrian enjoyed his weekly telephone chats with Myra and would have loved to go up to a snow-covered Scotland for Christmas, but it just wasn’t possible. There was far too much to manage with his haulage business, especially at this time of year. It was a shame Myra hadn’t heard anything from Robbie; it meant Adrian would have to fulfil his promise to Dorothy to support both her and the child. From what Robbie had told him of their circumstances, once Dorothy could no longer work, he’d have to help out her parents too, and once again he cursed his brother for leaving him to clean up his mess.
As all of his drivers were out on their deliveries and he wasn’t expecting any of them back for at least two hours, Adrian decided it was the ideal time to call at Dorothy’s house and introduce himself to her mother. He had rifled through the things his brother had left behind and was thankful to find Dorothy’s address. Going to see her parents seemed the right thing to do. There was the delicate subject of money to discuss and he thought it best to visit whilst Dorothy was at work.
Since his car was in the garage for a small repair, Adrian hopped on a bus, then made his way through several streets of small terraced houses, noticing that many of them were in a very poor state of repair. It had been a long time since he’d visited this side of Battersea and he hadn’t realised the extent of the poverty. The roads had few cars, though there were plenty of scruffy young children with dirty knees and snotty noses playing outside their houses. He’d heard Robbie refer to Dottie as living in the slums, and could see why the area was due for demolition.
Dorothy’s parents lived in the middle of their street and as Adrian approached he noticed white curtains twitching in one of the houses. He suddenly felt very out of place. His shiny shoes, smart tailored suit and long wool coat stood out, and he was glad he hadn’t brought his car, because if he’d parked it in this area, he doubted it would have its wheels for long.
When Adrian knocked on the street door a thin woman answered it. Frowning, she looked him up and down before saying, ‘Yeah, what do you want?’
‘Mrs Butler, hello. I’m Adrian … Adrian Ferguson, brother of Robbie,’ he said as he doffed his trilby hat. ‘Please excuse the unannounced intrusion but I believe there are some things we need to discuss.’
The woman looked stunned and opened the door fully as she smoothed her hair. Adrian immediately noticed the sores on her hands, and as she invited him in and he walked behind her, he saw her back was bent.
‘Please, take a seat, Mr Ferguson.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Butler,’ he said, running his eyes over the small kitchen. It was bare and basic but clean, though it could have done with a lick of paint. He twitched his nose at the smell of soap suds and noticed the pile of wet washing on the side, ready, he assumed, to go through the mangle. ‘Thank you for inviting me in, and please, call