want to believe it. I denied it to myself, trying to convince myself that it did not happen. But I could deny it no longer. I was well and truly in a terrible state and I didn’t know which way to turn. I was terrified but knew I had to tell my mother. By this time I was already throwing up secretly.
All I’d ever wanted was to dance at the Palais with my friends, and go to the pictures. It was not fair, I hated Ben and I didn’t want a stupid boyfriend. I’d only kept going out with him to keep Mum and Stan happy and keep the rows at bay. I just wanted to be part of a normal family. Had they accepted my dancing at the Palais this situation would never have happened. What was so wrong with going out dancing? My own mother admitted that she went to many dances when she was young. In my eyes it was their fault, but they blamed me. They were wrong and I didn’t hold back in telling them. The rows were terrible and the blame that was directed at me became more and more unbearable.
I felt alone and miserable. Being pregnant was not how I imagined it to be. I always thought it would be a wonderful and loving experience but I was hateful towards Ben for putting me into this situation. I was certainly not mature enough for sex and I knew very little about it. It wasn’t discussed so openly in the fifties. Ben was my first boyfriend but I have no doubt he had slept with other girls before me. At his age, shouldn’t he have known better? Ben and I never talked about what had happened at that time. Our lives were now in the hands of our parents. There were only two options— marriage or a mother and baby home. I didn’t want to go to a home. Marriage seemed to be much more socially acceptable and I wanted to give my baby a name. It was now nearly the end of March and arrangements had to be made.
Chapter 8
Mum and Stan met Ben’s parents and settled on a marriage date as soon as possible. It was arranged for April 2 1953—the soonest date available at the registry office.
Our honeymoon was in Brighton. After the entire trauma of having to organise a quick wedding, our families seemed alright together. Ben and I tried to put the strain between us aside. I guess we suddenly felt more grown up now we were married. While on our honeymoon, I surprisingly began to feel more secure and happier about having a husband. Just like my childhood holiday with the ladies in black, I realised I had to try and make a bad situation better. On returning, we rented two rooms in my new mother-in-law’s friend’s house. Luckily, I’d always had to put the dinner on for Mum so I could cook. On the other hand Ben’s mum, Ivy, liked to cater to him. The relationship was not too bad between us. In fact, I felt quite happy. At least I was away from my mother and Stan with their constant arguing and nagging. I enjoyed looking after our two little rooms, and having a husband.
It wasn’t long before problems started to occur in our relationship. Ivy’s friend Gladys didn’t like me very much because I did things differently to her. I also wasn’t spending any time with her because I felt we had nothing in common. She started causing trouble by telling Ben things I was doing wrong. He always seemed to take this woman’s side as she was older, and his mother’s best friend. He started criticising me and this made me cry. I always tried my very best in the house but no matter what I did, she would find some fault and tell Ben. Eventually Ivy even started having a go at me. I think she secretly wanted her son back for herself.
Ben and I would go out Saturday evenings to the club where his mates had saved seats for us. I always felt uncomfortable because his mates passed snide remarks constantly throughout the evening, stirring him because he had to get married. They remarked about he can’t spend his money on beer anymore because it was for baby clothes. I know he hated it and he would get back at me later. Soon after I stopped going out. Ben deeply resented the whole situation. He made good money so there shouldn’t have been a problem but he just didn’t want to use it to keep ‘unwanted baggage’—me and the baby. He confirmed that by giving me the bare minimum of housekeeping money.
Ben had to sell his motorbike to help towards the costs of the baby. What made things worse were the nights when he continued to go down to the club with his mates and they started cracking their jokes about him being ‘tied down’. I didn’t know Ben sold his motorbike, I certainly never ask him too. He never talked to me about the financial affairs. Once I found out, it was obvious he blamed me and never forgave me. He should have thought about the consequences before he forced me on the floor that night.
One morning I woke up feeling unwell. I had stomach pains and felt feverish. I was a few days past my due date but I didn’t think it was anything to do with being in labour. It just wasn’t how I thought it would feel. As I headed off to the kitchen to prepare a snack, Gladys came into the room. She looked at me strangely and asked if I was alright.
Instinctively I immediately thought, ‘What have I done wrong now?’
‘You look like you’re in labour’, she said.
The next thing I remember is an ambulance arriving to take me to hospital. Indeed I was in labour. Luckily, I had packed my suitcase a month before my due date as I was instructed by the clinic. At the hospital, I was giving a pubic shave, an enema and a bath. I felt violated. After being clothed in the appropriate hospital-issue gown, I awaited the birth of my child. I was so frightened, not knowing what to expect. All I was told was to breathe in the gas and air when I felt each pain coming.
I lay on the hard bed in the hospital labour ward alone for hours, thinking I was going to die. Time seemed to move ever so slowly. All I could do was to watch the clock in my line of vision, taunting me with its hands that just seemed to stand still. But at last my lonely drawn out ordeal came to an end as I finally gave birth to a baby girl.
The name I chose for my daughter was Sherly, meaning ‘bright meadow’. Sherly Ann was the most beautiful and perfect little thing I had ever seen. I remember staring into her big blue eyes and feeling an incredible surge of love. What an amazing feeling it was to hold my daughter in my arms. Everyone commented on how gorgeous she was. After ten days, we went home and were overwhelmed by visitors bringing all the usual baby presents. Even my work friends visited in their lunch hour. I was especially excited to receive a lace christening gown from Auntie Betty in South Africa.
I don’t know how we acquired the flat we moved into. Ivy and Gladys didn’t want us there with the baby in the house. Our new unfurnished flat was above a shoe repairer’s shop in town on the main street, Oxford Street. Our entrance was in an alleyway at the back of the property. Fox’s Glacier Mints factory stood at the back.
We had an agreement with the owner of the shoe store. I would mind the shop for a couple of hours whilst the owner went on his lunch break. I also had to keep the place clean. There were two flights of stairs to the old terrace. The stairs were very narrow, steep and dark and I had to trek up and down the stairs many times throughout the day. We had a kitchen with a glass door into the lounge come bedroom. We had no running water and no drainage so every drop of water in and out of the flat had to be carried in buckets down the flights of stairs and into the yard where there was a drain and a tap. It was very primitive. Having a child was taboo and limited your choice in rented accommodation because no one liked the idea of a crying child.
Life was unbelievably hard. I washed nappies by hand, boiling them up in a large container on top of the cooker to kill the bacteria, then rinsing several times till the water became clear. It took a whole morning to wash twelve nappies. I lost loads of weight, getting down to only five stone. It seemed all I was ever doing was carrying water up and down stairs. The only rest I received was when I was feeding Sherly. I enjoyed this immensely and tried to spend as much time with her as time would allow.
When Ben wanted a bath, I had to carry loads of water up the stairs and boil it. We had a tin bath near the coal-fuelled fire. Coal also had to be brought upstairs in a coal bucket. It was exhausting, however, I was determined to succeed and always managed to prepare hot meals for Ben when he arrived home from work. He was a painter and decorator by trade and made good money including the extra he made on the side. But I saw very little of it. Ben only ever gave me enough money to buy baby food for Sherly.
Finally, he started refusing me money