The ache in her back didnt stop her as she moved to open the door.
Eleanor wiped her damp hands and, wincing from the pain in her back, shuffled toward the entrance. The knock had been timid, but it was already the third time. Shed been busy cleaning a window and hadnt hurried to answer. Standing on the other side was a young womansweet-faced but pale, with tired eyes.
“Eleanor, they say you might have a room to let?”
“Oh, those neighbours! Always sending someone my way! I dont let roomsnever have.”
“But I heard youve got three bedrooms.”
“So? Why should I take in lodgers? Im used to living alone.”
“Well, pardon me. I was told you were a churchgoer, so I thought”
The girl, blinking back tears, turned and slowly started down the steps. Her shoulders shook.
“Love, come back! I havent said no yet! You young onesso sensitive, crying over nothing. Come inside, lets talk. Whats your name? Can we drop the formalities?”
“Millie.”
“Millie? Did the sea call to you, little one?”
“Ive no father. Or mother. I was found in a hallway by kind strangers and taken to the police. I wasnt even a month old.”
“Now, dont take offence. Come, well have tea and talk. Are you hungry?”
“No, I bought a roll.”
“A roll! Young peoplenever looking after yourselves. By thirty, youll have ulcers. Sit down, theres pea soup still warm. Well heat the tea, too. Ive plenty of jam. My husbands been gone five years, but I still cook for two out of habit. Well eat, then you can help me finish the window.”
“Eleanor, could I do something else? My heads spinningIm afraid Ill fall. Im expecting.”
“Good grief! Just my luck! Did you get yourself in trouble?”
“Why assume the worst? Im married. To Williamfrom the same childrens home as me. Hes been called up. He got leave recently. When my landlady found out I was pregnant, she gave me a week to leave. We lived close by. But you seecircumstances…”
“Circumstances… What am I to do with you? Well move my bed into Pauls old room. Fineyou take mine. I wont take money, so dont even think of itthatd only make me cross. Go fetch your things.”
“Its not far. All Williams and my belongings are in a bag downstairs. The weeks up, and Ive already been round half the neighbourhood this morning with it.”
And so, they became two. Millie continued her studies in dressmaking. Eleanor had been on disability since a bad train accident years before, so she stayed home, knitting lace doilies, collars, and baby booties to sell at the market. Her work was delicate as seafoam, light and fine, so it sold well. Money wasnt tightpart of it came from the gardens produce. Saturdays, they worked the plot together. Sundays, Eleanor went to church while Millie stayed home, rereading letters from her beloved William. She rarely attended, complaining her back and head ached.
One Saturday, after harvesting, they prepared the soil for winter. Millie tired quickly, so Eleanor sent her to the cottage to rest and listen to the old records she and her late husband had once collected. Labouring with the rake, the expecting mother lay down to rest. Eleanor burned dry branches, lost in thoughtuntil Millies scream pierced the air.
“Mum! Mum, quick, come!”
Heart pounding, forgetting her own aches, Eleanor raced to the cottage. Millie clutched her belly, crying out. Quickly, Eleanor persuaded a neighbour to help, and in his old Rover, they sped to the maternity ward. Millie sobbed, “Mum, it hurts! Its too earlyIm not due till mid-January! Pray for me, you know how!” Eleanor wept, whispering prayers.
At the hospital, Millie was whisked away on a stretcher while the neighbour drove Eleanor home. All night, she prayed to the Virgin for the babys safety. The next morning, she phoned the ward.
“Your daughters fine. She kept asking for you and William, crying, then calmed and fell asleep. The doctor says the risks passed, but shell stay a few weeks. Her bloods lowmake sure she eats well and rests.”
When Millie returned, they talked late into the night. She couldnt stop speaking of William.
“He wasnt abandoned like me. Hes an orphan. Weve been together since the homefriends at school, then sweethearts. Hes so kind. Its more than love. Look how often he writes. Dyou want his photo? Here, second from the right. Hes smiling…”
“Handsome lad…” Eleanor didnt want to upset her. She needed new glasses, and the photo was smallshe couldnt make out faces, just shapes. “Millie, whyd you call me ‘Mum’ in the garden?”
“Oh, I forgotI was scared. Its an old habit from the home. Everyone was ‘Mum’ or ‘Dad,’ from the director to the plumber. Id mostly stopped, but sometimes, when Im frightened… Sorry.”
“I see…” Eleanor sighed.
“Auntie, tell me about you. Why no photos of your husband or children? Youve none?”
“No. A sonbut he died before he turned one. After the accident, I couldnt have more. My husband was my child. I spoiled him, loved him with all I had. He was my world, like William is yours. When I buried him, I put all the pictures away. Im faithfulI know hes with Godbut it hurt too much. Seeing his face made me weep. Better hidden. He needs my prayers, not tears. Could you ask William for a bigger photo? Ive a frame somewhere.”
On Christmas Eve, they decorated, spoke of the Christ child, and waited for the first star. Millie fidgeted, rubbing her lower back.
“Youre not well, love. Youre not listening. Why so restless?”
“Auntie, call the ambulance. The babys coming.”
“But darling, youre too early!”
“I mustve miscalculated. Please, I cant wait!”
Half an hour later, they were at the hospital. On Christmas Day, Millie gave birth to a girl. Eleanor sent the news by telegram to William.
January was busy. The baby brought joy and trouble. With Williams blessing, Millie named her Eleanor. The older woman wept.
The winter day was unseasonably mild. Eleanor did the shopping, returning to find Millie at the door with the pram.
“Enjoy your walk, Auntie?”
“I will. Ill start lunch.”
Inside, Eleanor spotted a framed photo on the table. She smiled. “You found it! You chose one from his youth. Young folks dont like looking at the old.”
Soup simmered as Millie returned with the baby. A young neighbour helped with the pram. They settled the childlittle Eleanor, fast asleepthen stepped quietly into the parlour.
“Millie,” Eleanor smiled, “howd you find Edwards photos?”
“I dontwhat dyou mean?”
“This?” She pointed.
“That? You asked for a larger photo of William. He went to a studio. The frame was on the bookshelf.”
Eleanors hands trembled as she took it. Only then did she realizeit wasnt Edward. The young sergeant grinned cheekily at the camera. She sat, pale, staring blankly. Millie wept silently, holding a camphor compress.
“Mum, look at me! Whats wrong?”
“Open the cupboardphotos are on the top shelf. Bring them.”
Millie fetched albums and framed pictures. A man smiled down William?!
“God alive! Whos this? Is it William? Noits old. Who is he, Mum?”
“My Edward. Millie, sweet, where was William born?”
“II dont know. He was brought to our London home. The train crash orphaned him.”
“Dear Lord, what a mistake! My Michaelthey showed me a body. His shirt was Michaels. The face was unrecognizable. My boy! Youre alive! Your wife and child are here, and I never knew! Millie, give me that photo.”
Dazed, Millie handed it over. Eleanor kissed it, sobbing, “My Michael, my darling!”
“William,” Millie whispered.
“Call him what you likehes my son! Look at his fathers photoits the same face!”
Millie hesitated.
“Milliethe birthmark. Does he have a star on his right elbow? WhenTrembling, Millie nodded and whispered, “It’s therejust like a star,” and in that moment, their tears and laughter mingled, binding them together as family forever.
