22. A WEDDING IS CONCEIVED

They might only have met a half a dozen times, but Ursula has to tell Greendale that she's pregnant.

“You look lovely,” exclaimed Greendale Blocksley, smart in his uniform and with appreciatively shining eyes. He had arrived moments before, having caught the early train, and Ursula was serving the constable with his weekly ounce of Vintner’s shag and enjoying the latest news about the Snootnose family. Apparently Charles was being threatened with a visit to a psychiatric hospital and he had declared that he didn’t care even it he died in there, so miserable had his life become.

“I’m so glad you arrived early,” smiled Ursula, handing Constable Plodnose his change.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to your own devices then,” grinned the constable, and “good morning all!” he added.

“See you later, Peter,” grinned Ursula, and when the policeman had gone and they’d seen him through the window, mounting his bicycle and pedalling off, she said to Greendale, “I’ve some news for you.”

“You have?” he asked, and he was aware that his heart was beating suddenly at double-quick time. He knew what he hoped the news could be, and mentally crossed his fingers.

“Were you going to ask me to marry you?” she asked.

“The truth is, we haven’t really got to know each other over a long enough time, and even though I can’t see myself ever falling for anyone else, I’ve got to think of what might be best for you,” he said a little pompously, and frowned, “besides, flying in this war is a dangerous game and there’s a fair chance that I might get shot down, and that’s never a good thing,” he added.

“So you’re not going to ask me to marry you?” she whispered, teasingly.

“I would if … if I dared, but what if you said no?” he asked her, “what if you broke my heart there and then with a refusal?”

“And you’d happily spend the rest of your life jeering at me and calling me a hussy because I’m a single parent with a child in a pram, and no man to call its father?” she demanded.

At first he didn’t see it, he who was usually so quick on the uptake. “Of course I wouldn’t, but you’re not, are you?” he asked.

“Not yet, of course, but… give me a few months and I will be,” she said. “It’s all the rage these days, unmarried mothers, so I won’t be alone suffering the scorn of more proper and God-fearing eyes...”

She almost heard the penny drop as his mouth opened, suddenly so wide its a miracle it didn’t lock in that position for the duration.

“You mean…?” he spluttered.

“That I’m in the family way? Yes, I mean that...”

“And it’s mine…?

“No, it’s mine if you want to be picky about ownership, though I do believe you contributed a teensy weensy little tadpoley thing… just a tiny little swimmy thing. But the rest is mine. My soon to be swelling belly, my morning sickness, my pains of childbirth … all mine!”

“Of course. I’m sorry. But it was mine? The swimmy thing?”

“Now then Greendale, we’ll have none of that! What kind of girl do you think I am? I don’t go about doing intimate things with any old guy! And if you think I do...”

“No. No. It’s not that. I know you don’t, silly. It’s just that … I can’t believe it! So you’ll have to marry me...”

“Is that a proposal?”

“Of course it bloody is! All I’ve ever wanted, since the first time I clapped eyes on you, is for you to be my wife! Before we even kissed for that first time. Before, even, we held hands! Ever since… you know. You must know.”

She laughed at him. “And I’ve felt the same. So we’re going to get married? Is that what you’re trying to say? Before the baby’s born? We’re going to be man and wife, and go to bed at night together, and wake up next to each other in the morning...?”

“Yes! Yes! At least, when this bloody war’s over!”

“That’s two bloodies in one minute, Greendale. I hope you’re not turning foul-mouthed? I hope you’re not picking up bad habits from all those big brutish airmen you spend all your days cavorting with?”

“I’m bloody not!”

Then she laughed. “I’ll tell my mum,” she said, “about your language, that is. She already knows I’m in this condition. I had to tell someone because, well, I’m going to need help with the twins. Mum’s going to have them part-time. Her arthritis isn’t too crippling, not like Old Aunty Emmett’s was. So she’ll have them for weekends to start with, and I’ll have them when they’re at school in the week. Poor little things ... I don’t think it’s hit home to them, that they’re orphans.”

“Your mum and dad. How did they take it?” asked Greendale. “I don’t think my folk are going to be too happy...”

“They won’t?”

“The truth is, they’re snobs, Ursula. “They reckon that everything I do isn’t good enough. They didn’t even think much of me working at Dustcrotch’s because it’s not high and mighty enough. And they won’t like the idea of me marrying a lass because I got her pregnant. That’s how they’ll see it: I’ve made a mistake and marrying the girl I did it to is my punishment.”

“Well that’s not true!” declared Ursula, “and we did it deliberately, taking no precautions, knowing what we wanted! I yearned for it to happen, not because I wanted to go against what’s right in the world, but because I wanted to help you. There’s a war on, and nobody can tell what’s going to happen to us, especially with you being a pilot and shooting down Germans, and maybe, horribly maybe, being shot down yourself! But I could be killed too. Our little village could be bombed to hell and back. These are horrible days in which to be alive and there are some that say that it’s even wicked to bring a child into the world the way things are. But we’ve got to be positive. We’ve got to look on what’s the best thing to do, not for a possible future of cruelty and evil, but for a future filled with joy, you and me together with the unborn child in a world that’s better than it was before the war came along.”

“I wish my folks could see it like that, but I’ll bet you a penny to a pound that they won’t. Well, my love, I was hoping we could spend another hour or two today trying to make a baby, but to my utter delight it seems that we’ve already done that and, well, I reckon I’d best face up to my folks. Do you want to come?”

She shook her head sadly. “I want to but I’ve got the shop and the twins coming home for lunch from school. I just can’t.”

“I understand,” he said, unhappily, “but I’ll fight your corner for you when I see them. They haven’t a clue what an angel you are, you know. But I’ll tell them about the baby, about who you are, about what you do, everything about you, as if I haven’t told them a great deal already! And I’ll tell them we’re getting married as soon as I can tease out some leave from the RAF.”

“Surely they’ll see things … right?”

“Their right and our right are two different things,” replied Greendale grimly, “and they won’t see things our way, I’m sure of that. But fighting them is nowhere near as bad as fighting the Luftwaffe, and I can cope with them all right! So wish me luck and we’ll set a date when I can get a couple of days leave. Meanwhile, momma and papa, here I come!”

© Peter Rogerson 31.07.18