‘I want my mummy.’
His plaintive cry tore at Dottie’s heart. She touched his forehead and brushed back his damp hair. ‘I know, sweetheart, I know. Mummy can’t come today, so she sent me instead.’
Gary’s chin quivered.
Dottie reached into her bag and drew out two small bears wrapped in dark blue tissue paper. She had bought them the previous year when the whole country had been captivated by the story of Ivy and Brumas and early that morning she’d sneaked them out of their hiding place.
In 1949, Ivy, a polar bear at the London zoo, had surprised everyone by giving birth to a son, Brumas. The following Christmas, just about every child in the land had an Ivy and Brumas bear in their stocking. Dottie had bought a pair, and after wrapping them in tissue paper she had put them in Aunt Bessie’s wardrobe alongside Aunt Bessie’s cowboy hats and boots, and all the other things she couldn’t bear to throw away.
Dottie had always imagined that one day she would put the bears in the cot of her own baby but after what Reg said last Saturday, that day seemed too far away to matter. She realised that if Reg knew about them, he would make her give them to his child and she wasn’t prepared to do that. No, she’d sooner give them to someone more deserving and in the present circumstances, who could be more needy than Gary?
He watched her unwrap the bears. ‘Where’s my mummy?’ he whimpered again and a tear rolled down his cheek.
‘Mummy can’t come today,’ said Dottie gently as she put both bears on the bed. ‘But Mummy told me she misses you very much.’ She was willing her voice not to break. ‘So I’ll tell you what I’ll do.’ She fondled Gary’s hair again. ‘I’m going to give Brumas to you to cuddle and I’m going to put Ivy down here at the end of the bed.’
As Gary tried in vain to move his head in the direction of the bear, the full extent of his paralysis became a chilling reality. Dottie bit back her own tears.
‘Ivy loves Brumas very much,’ she went on, ‘just like your mummy loves you. She’ll be watching Brumas all the time, see?’
She placed the larger bear in his direct line of vision.
‘You look after Brumas and all the time you see Ivy watching him, you’ll know your mummy is thinking about you too.’
She lifted his limp arm and placed Brumas next to his body.
‘Is Ivy watching him?’
‘Yes,’ Gary whimpered.
‘See?’ said Dottie. ‘Ivy is watching Brumas so your mummy must be thinking about you.’
Gary looked up and gave her a weak smile.
‘Sister says it’s time to go,’ said a young nurse, coming up to them. ‘We have got to get all these children ready for bed.’
It was a ridiculous statement, but Dottie knew what she meant. She leaned forward to kiss Gary goodbye but the nurse held her shoulder. ‘No. Not too close.’
Dottie kissed her own fingers and touched Gary’s forehead. ‘I’ll come back as soon as I can, darling.’ The lump forming in her throat felt like it would choke her. She had to keep strong. She mustn’t let Gary see her cry. ‘Mummy will come along another day.’
She left him watching Ivy. ‘Thank you, Nurse,’ she said as they reached the door.
‘No,’ said the nurse, taking a furtive glance over her shoulder, ‘thank you. I’m sure he’ll be much happier now. That was a nice thing you did.’ And with a rustle of her starched apron, she was gone.
Dottie made her way outside, her whole body racked with sobs. As she stood in the bus shelter, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Poor little lamb. Just three years old and not allowed to see his mummy. It wasn’t fair. What was going to happen to him?
‘Dear Lord,’ she prayed through her tears, ‘don’t let him be paralysed all his life.’
The bus came and she got on. Thankfully she couldn’t see anyone she knew. As she looked out of the window, she allowed herself a small smile as she recalled Brumas under the sheet and Ivy watching him. She’d go round and tell Peaches all about it later this evening when Reg had gone to the pub. It wasn’t much but it would certainly put her friend’s mind at rest. Careful that she mustn’t do anything to let Reg know where she’d been, Dottie got off two stops before she needed and walked the rest of the way home. The fresh air gave her a chance to clear her head and to compose herself.
Eleven
It was a mad rush to get the tea ready before Reg got home and the potatoes still needed another ten minutes when Dottie saw him parking his bike against the wall. She wondered what sort of a mood he was in; but she needn’t have worried. He was feeling cheerful. He handed her a bunch of sweet peas.
‘Ooh, Reg!’ She couldn’t hide her surprise. He seldom gave her the flowers from his station garden, preferring instead to hand them out to his passengers. In between his station duties, he’d built up a reputation as an expert nurseryman, cultivating flowers and even a few vegetables on the strip of land alongside the station ticket office, and collecting a great many ardent admirers along the way. It was well known in the village that if you had a gardening problem, Reg was the man to ask.
She held them to her nose and sniffed them loudly. ‘They’re lovely.’
‘The fence is covered,’ he said proudly. ‘A really nice show this year.’
He sat in his chair and took off his railwayman’s boots, then went upstairs. A few minutes later he came down in his gardening clothes. ‘Just going out to dig a few spuds,’ he said. ‘Dinner nearly ready?’
‘Five more minutes,’ she said as she arranged the sweet peas in a vase. Their heady perfume filled the kitchen and she could tell they were his prize blooms by their big, perfectly formed petals. They were the talk of the village.
‘No one can grow sweet peas like your Reg.’
‘He ought to go enter the flower show with those blooms.’
‘Magnificent. What’s his secret?’
She was back in the scullery putting the runner beans in a colander when she heard a footfall outside the back door.
‘I’m just dishing up, Reg,’ she called.
‘Dottie, it’s me.’
Dottie swung round to find Peaches in the doorway. She looked drained. Her face was pale and she wore no make-up. There were dark circles under her eyes. ‘I’m sorry to burst in on you like this, but Jack and I couldn’t wait. How is he? Did he look any better?’
Dottie grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. She’d have to be quick. She have to say her piece before Reg came back up the garden.
‘What’s she bloody doing here?’ He was already sitting at the kitchen table. He rose to his feet. ‘Get out of here, Peaches Smith. You’re not welcome.’
Peaches stared at him aghast. ‘Not welcome …?’ she said faintly.
‘No
