When they all gathered around the table and the smell of homemade food reached them they felt better. Distraught and worried but still better than they had just a few minutes ago.
"I suggest we enjoy the lovely food Mrs B has made us first and discuss all that needs discussing later." Sister Julienne announced and was met by nods and thankful looks. "Oh, and my dear Mrs B, could you possibly take a tray in to the living-room for Cynthia. I strongly doubt Trixie will eat anything but Cynthia will be starving like the rest of us." Mrs B obliged and grace was said. The mood was as subdued as it could be and not surprisingly so considering all that had happened. Chummy was staring into her plate, pushing the roast potatoes around, seemingly incapable of eating, and Peter was maneuvering his fork carefully over the baby that was now not-so-awkwardly resting its head on his shoulder. Sisters Evangelina and Julienne were exchanging thoughts on the ever-decreasing birth rates of Poplar:
"There wasn't a single woman in labour when I was on call yesterday. I managed to sit on my back-side till I couldn't feel it anymore!" Sister Evangelina exclaimed, although admittedly quieter than she normally did and they felt she was giving them the censured version of her day.
"I am not at all surprised, Sister, as we only have 17 mothers registered with us who are due this month. There will be many days to come with no births at all" Sister Julienne replied.
"Lazy is what this new generation of women are! My mother gave birth to 19 babies! 19 and that was normal if not few!"
"Yes, but tell me, how many of those babies survived, and how many could she afford to feed?"
"Well." Sister Evangelina's nose turned bright, as it did when she was put on the spot. "That's beside the point! I'm talking about how few labours women go through nowadays and how they have the audacity to choose to have 2 or 3 children when so many women before them fought to feed all the children that just 'happened'."
"Dear Sister, you're saying it yourself, now women don't have to fight to feed all their children. They can live contented with the number of children that they can afford and love without financial worry. It is a luxury we should be glad to have. Sister Evangelina muttered something in defeat.
"My dear, I know you secretly agree, for you yourself objected, only a few weeks ago, of the horrors of smothered babies which were ungracefully common in our days and which have now next to completely disappeared!" exclaimed Sister Monica Joan who had so far been distracted by trying to prick the peas with her fork without them flying across the table. Inevitably she failed with most of them before she'd mastered the technique and half crushed peas were scattered around the table and occasionally on other people's plates. She had seemed oblivious to the strained conversation on the other side of the table but with her usual knack for timing she had seized the perfect moment for a triumphant "Aha" as she had filled her fork with pricked peas and delivered her speech.
All heads were turned towards Sister Monica Joan and she relished in the attention. She made a dramatic gesture with her hand as to indicate that she had won the battle without effort and there was no need for the continued attention, although her real intent was the complete opposite. As she demonstratively put the full fork into her mouth and with the expression of an actress in a silent film, she chewed and enjoyed the taste, ensuring the continued attention of the others. "Now. Would you be so kind?" she said, handing her bowl to Chummy who had finally started eating. Chummy obliged and gave Sister Monica Joan first choice of the pudding. "No no, not that one. The one next to it! Yes, perfect, and custard. More custard. More custard, girl!"
This was the queue for everyone to have pudding and while they ate several conversations struck up around the table. The Sisters were experts at distracting people from troubling issues when need be and they had once again succeeded. As the puddings disappeared from the plates and Jenny, Shelagh and Jane stood up to clear the table, Sister Julienne returned to their unresolved problem. Now, I think we are forced to return to the topic of evacuation. We all need to think of possibilities, options for our future lodgings. Jenny, your family would welcome you back, I believe, am I right?" Jenny nodded silently, feeling undeservedly privileged. "And Dr Turner and Fred obviously have somewhere to live so we won't worry about you. Shelagh, we will need to find you somewhere provisional, just for the couple of months before your wedding. That shouldn't prove too difficult." Shelagh remained serious and focused on the evacuation issue, with just a hint of pink colouring her cheeks and a light spark in her eyes. "Jane, I believe Reverend Applebee-Thornton once mentioned rooms for rent in his parish, do I remember correctly?"
"Yes, Sister, but they are for the needing."
"In this moment, I believe you are needing, Jane. Besides, you can pay for your room as I believe you have used none of your salary from us yet so you would technically be supporting the parish. And I am sure the Reverend wouldn't object too much" she said with a twinkle in her eye. Jane smiled timidly and nodded. "This leaves us with you Chummy. And Peter and the baby of course."
"What about Cynthia and Trixie?" Peter ventured, desperate to put off their homelessness.
"Of course." Sister Julienne understood. "Jenny, will you swap places with Cynthia and ask her to come here?"
"Yes, Sister". Jenny said reluctantly. She still hadn't seen Trixie since she realised it was her in the bicycle shed. She walked slowly into the living-room. She found Cynthia and Trixie in the exact same position as they were before. It could be a still photograph, never changing, if it weren't for the half empty train witnessing of the lunch that Cynthia had tried to eat. "Sister Julienne wants you in the kitchen" she announced. "They're discussing where we're to go". Cynthia nodded in silence and left.
Jenny stood by the door, not knowing what to do, averting her eyes from the apathetic figure in the bathtub. She found herself wondering if the water was still tepid, or if it had gone completely cold. She didn't dare check but remained standing. The presence of the usually so bubbly and loud Trixie made her uneasy. She didn't know how to act around her now. Her transformation was so drastic that even if Jane became a cabaret dancer it wouldn't be as shocking as this. Of course, the knowledge of what had happened to Trixie made it all the more uncomfortable. She had seen so many pregnant women who hadn't asked to get pregnant, yet if it happened to her friend she didn't know what she'd do. She wish, she prayed even, that Trixie would be spared a pregnancy. She remembered Mary, the young Irish prostitute who had fallen into the trap of a good-looking young man who led her into a life of sin. She had ended up pregnant but with no family to support her the baby was taken away and young Mary lost her mind as well as her baby. Even though it was no longer punishable, having a baby out of wedlock was unacceptable and very few women managed to raise such a baby without the support of her family. Jenny suddenly realised they knew very little of Trixie's family. Would they support her? Would they help her? Welcome her back now that they were leaving Nonnatus House?
As always: Please review. :) Hope you enjoy this in spite of its rather depressing subject...
