Marie Maxwell - Gracie

Dot’s face glowed with anger as she stared at her daughter and the enormity of the situation hit her.

‘You stupid, stupid girl! Of course he left you, who wants to marry a girl who’s easy?’

The tiny kitchen prevented Dot McCabe from pacing, so instead she turned around on the spot and slapped her own forehead with the palm of her hand.

‘No one can find out about this, no one . Do you understand me? And I dread to think what your father’s going to say when he gets home. Get back into your bedroom now and stay there. Go on, you get back in there; just get in there, get into bed and cover yourself up,’ Dot McCabe reached up and took hold of Gracie by her hair, tugging it hard. ‘Don’t say a word to your sisters; I’ve got to decide what we’re going to do. Go, go, go and stop that snivelling …’

She let go of Gracie’s hair, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the back bedroom at the end of the long corridor of the upstairs flat.

‘You two, get dressed and get off to school,’ she told the twins. ‘Gracie’s sick and I don’t want either of you to catch it. Go on. Move. Now.’

‘But it’s too early …’ Jeanette said sulkily. ‘Why should we have to go to school now just because Gracie’s sick? What’s wrong with her?’

‘Now!’ Dot McCabe snapped with such ferocity that even Jeanette, the normally loud and argumentative sister, didn’t answer back. Without another word, both girls started pulling on their clothes. Under the watchful eye of their angry mother they purposefully ignored their sister as she climbed back into her bed and buried herself under the covers.

The double bedroom the three sisters shared was at the back of the property where the family lived. The large, semi-derelict, terraced house in the Westcliff area of Southend-on-Sea was a temporary home to three separate families, The McCabe family had the whole of the first floor, the ground floor housed a noisy family with three uncontrollable young children and the top floor, which was the attic, was home to a young married couple who were related to the landlord. None of the flats were self-contained and, whether they wanted to or not, they all intruded into each other’s lives.

Everyone living in the house hated it but it was a basic roof over their heads in the difficult times just after the war. For the McCabe family, it had been somewhere immediate for them to live when their previous home had been declared unsafe after a nearby bomb had shaken the foundations, cracked the front wall from top to bottom and shifted most of the tiles off the roof.

Their floor was relatively spacious but it was also damp, cold, and lacking in most of the basic amenities. They took it in turns to wash at the small kitchen sink and family meals were cooked on a gas stove with three rings and a broken oven, but at least there was a working lavatory which they shared with the couple upstairs. The family on the ground floor were supposed to use the outside lavatory but the children would sometimes sneak upstairs to avoid going out into the back yard. The whole situation was unbearably chaotic for everyone in the house but they all tolerated it as they waited for something better.

Gracie pulled the covers right up over her head to block everything out; she was angry with herself for not following her instincts and just running away and hoping for the best.

Because she worked long hours at the Palace Hotel on the seafront she hadn’t been home very much for the family to notice her growing belly and at work as a chambermaid she was able to keep it hidden under her roomy overall. But now her secret was out and she was going to have to accept the consequences which she knew would be harsh after seeing her mother’s initial reaction.

A sense of impending doom enveloped Gracie as she lay wrapped up tightly in her bed, waiting to see what her mother was going to do. She could feel the baby moving inside her and without thinking, she wrapped her arms around it protectively. She guessed she would have to wait for her father’s return from work before she would know her fate but she knew without doubt even her genial and easy-going father wouldn’t be able to take her side this time.

Gracie couldn’t even begin to imagine what the outcome of it all would be. Engulfed in her own misery, she tried to think of a way to resolve her situation. She thought about running away but she didn’t have a clue where to go and she also didn’t have the energy so all she could do was wait.

The feigned sickness of earlier became real as hunger gnawed at her stomach but she didn’t want to leave the bedroom as she could imagine her mother standing guard outside the door. Gracie didn’t resent her mother for the beating she had given her; she understood that she’d pushed her to the limit. To have everyone know that their eldest daughter was unmarried and pregnant, especially with father unknown, would be the ultimate disgrace – both in the neighbourhood and at the church. Gracie knew that she had committed the ultimate sin and for that there would be consequences. She just hoped they wouldn’t be as harsh as she was anticipating. She touched her stomach and tried her best not to imagine the baby she knew was inside her, the baby she could no longer pretend didn’t exist.

When Gracie heard her mother’s footsteps going down the bare boards of the stairs, followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing, she took her chance to go and find something to eat. But as she stepped onto the landing so she saw her mother coming back up the stairs.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Dot asked.

‘To the kitchen to get something to eat …’ but as Gracie answered she saw someone else standing behind her mother.

‘No you’re not, you’ve got a visitor.’ Dot replied shortly.

‘Good day to you, Gracie. Your mother was telling me you have a problem that needs my help …’

Gracie looked at Father Thomas, the parish priest, and her heart sank. In that instant she knew what was going to happen. Her worst nightmare was about to become reality: she was going to be sent to St Angela’s.

‘Yes, Father …’ was all she could say.

‘Don’t say anything else out here …’ her mother looked around furtively as she whispered to both of them. ‘Wait until we’re somewhere private. There are too many listening ears in this house – I don’t want a soul hearing about this, not a soul …’

Gracie’s knees were shaking as she turned and headed into the living room at the front of the house, followed closely by her mother and the priest. She felt incredibly ashamed having her very personal and private business discussed in front of Father Thomas but at the same time he was someone she quite liked and respected. Gracie sat down on one of the upright chairs that were crowded around the dining table tucked in the bay window and waited passively for him to outline his plan.

‘Now young Gracie, I’m here at your mother’s request to seek a resolution to the problem. We’re thinking you should be going to St Angela’s until this baby is born and then we’ll arrange for it to be adopted by a loving married couple who will raise it as their own. You’re unwed and just eighteen years of age; it will be for the best. There are many good couples in the parish seeking a baby. It’ll be well placed to be having a good future with good married parents.’

Father Thomas’ expression was as kindly as it could be under the circumstances and his tone was calm but there was no avoiding the disapproval and disappointment that accompanied his words.

‘Thank you,’ Gracie shrugged, aware that her fate was sealed.

She’d known of other girls who’d trod the path to St Angela’s mother and baby home, a large country house on the other side of Rochford which was run by the strictest of nuns, some of whom were nurses, and used by local churchgoing and non-religious parents alike as both a warning and a threat to their daughters … If you get yourself into trouble that’s where you’ll have to go. You’ll get carted off to St Angela’s, and you know what happens there …