Dear Followers

I have serialised 'Footprints on my Doorstep' in ten parts. Please check every Friday for the next instalment. Here is the first part:-

FOOTPRINTS ON MY DOORSTEP

I am Number Seven, curator of secrets.

Through me, you will learn to admire Walter's

stoic acceptance, abhor Cora's animosity,

applaud Sandra's generosity

and despise Jasper's greed.

You will share Hetty's heartache

and Holly's happiness,

because

I am Number Seven, curator of secrets.

 

 

EPISODE ONE

 

The Early Years

 

I was built in the year the old queen died. Black drapes hung from windows, many people went into mourning as if she were a member of their own family. However, my very first occupants had much to be happy about for they were embarking on a new life in a new house and with the expectation of a new baby. No one suspected that in a few short years war would throw Europe into chaos.

Since getting married a year earlier, Jack and Daisy Webster had been living in one room in Jack's parents' house in Wandsworth when the vacancy for a railway porter cropped up and, in the blink of an eye, as Daisy put it, they were whisked away to live on the South Coast. So even if the rest of the country was in the doldrums, their luck had changed.

'Opportunities like that don't crop up every day, my boy,' said Jack's father, sucking at his pipe, 'a job on the railway is a job for life.'

And so in mid February they moved in. They were only renting of course because I went with the job. I had been built by the Railway Company to house employees. At that time, this was a small town with a population of around 25,000; nestled at the foot of the South Downs it had a rural feel and, indeed, when Daisy looked out of the top back bedroom window, she could see gently sloping hills and, closer to hand, an abundance of fruit trees.

I am Number Seven, which is in the middle of a block of terraces that were built on land purchased from a market gardener. This was a godsend for Jack and Daisy because, instead of finding themselves confronted with a stretch of uncultivated back garden, there were mature apple, plum and pear trees and leftover raspberry and gooseberry bushes to provide them with free puddings to help feed their growing family.

The lavatory was built into the side of the house near the back door so that the occupants didn't have to traipse to the end of the garden, as was the case for residents of houses built before the turn of the century. There was a covered walkway behind the houses to give all occupants easy access to the communal laundry facilities. When they saw what was being offered to them, Jack and Daisy were over the moon.

And so begins their story…

'Let me look you over just once more,' Daisy Webster insisted, brushing invisible specks from Jack's lapels for the tenth time. 'You look so smart in your guard's uniform. Are you sure you've got everything you need?'

'Stop fussing, sweetheart, I've checked everything.' When she stood on tiptoes to kiss him, he laughed and added, 'If you get much fatter, you won't be able to reach me.'

'Go on with you,' she giggled. Giving his shoulder a gentle push, she stood on the doorstep to watch him stride off to his first day in the new job, losing sight of him as he rounded the bend in the road after stopping briefly to wave at her.

She went back indoors, leaning against the doorframe, partly to ease her aching back and partly to sigh with pleasure at the start of this exciting episode in their lives. Who would have thought, a year ago, that they would be living in their own three bed roomed house snugly cradled between the sea and the countryside?

She shuffled along the floorboards - they couldn't afford a runner yet although she had her eye on an attractive one called Kashmir Red she'd seen on a visit to a department store in Clapham Junction prior to their move south. She hadn't told Jack about it because, like his father, he was inclined to be a bit tight-fisted and she knew he would say it was way out of their league. A twinge of pain caught her and she was obliged to sit down on one of the two dining room chairs her parents had given them. The twinge didn't last long and she was sure it wasn't the real thing, not yet. The baby wasn't due for another two weeks. She hoped it was a boy. Jack would like that. But she also hoped that one day they would have a girl as well. An only child, she had always longed for siblings, envying Jack his large family.

After a few minutes she put her hand on the table and pushed herself to her feet. There were chores to be done; so much more to do in a whole house rather than the twelve by twelve-foot room they'd come from. Not that she minded. She would have twirled around with delight if she hadn't felt so clumsy. The house was perfect, Jack was perfect and they were distanced from her interfering mother-in-law. It wasn't that she didn't like Gladys but her non-stop advice and endless suggestions had begun to grate after the first few months of her pregnancy. It was lovely to be away from all that even if she did feel a bit lonely sometimes.

 

Despite the assurance he demonstrated to his wife, Jack felt nervous at starting his new job. And as he rounded the corner, his jaunty walk took on a slower gait as if something were holding him back. He loved his Daisy so much but the responsibility of the expected child was beginning to weigh heavily on him. He was frightened too because Daisy's mother had nearly died giving birth to her and was subsequently unable to have more children. Suppose this weakness ran in families! He wanted a lot of children. He was used to the chaos of eight people squashed around the kitchen table, of squabbling brothers, of teasing sisters. And now they had this wonderful house there was room for a large family.

He mounted the steps to the station entrance and approached the ticket office.

'Hello mate!' The ruddy-faced cashier greeted him cheerily, indicating with a nod for him to go round to the side door. 'Jack, isn't it, welcome aboard? I'm Bert Stanwick.'

Jack began to relax; he joined the man in the tiny office, watching while he sold tickets to a couple of passengers.

'You might have to double for me sometimes, Jack. You know, holidays and week-end shifts.'

'They didn't say anything about that.'

'Didn't they…must have forgotten to mention it. Don't worry it won't happen for a while.' He looked over his shoulder. 'Here's Steve, he's going to tell you your duties. There are seventy trains a day, weekdays that is, Sundays the number is half that. 'Course, you'll be working shifts, you know that, don't you?'

The eight-hour day passed swiftly. Jack soon found there wasn't all that much to learn but Steve turned out to be meticulous and insisted on showing him the ropes over and over again.

At six o'clock, a man called Chas took over and Jack made his way home.

Daisy's face lit up as he let himself in. She hurried to meet him, reaching up to kiss him on the lips. 'How did it go today, darling?'

'Fine, piece of cake.'

'So you think you'll settle in? I mean, after your last job this must seem very different.'

'Do you think I can't handle it?'

She bit her lip. Her husband could be touchy sometimes and, in a bid to calm the waters, she said cheerfully, 'Go and get washed, I'll have the dinner on the table in next to no time.'

When he returned from the wash-house, they sat down to mutton stew, eked out with plenty of vegetables. It was going to take Daisy a long time to persuade her husband that they could afford something better now that he had regular work.

'Is this new?' asked Jack slapping his large hand down on the colourful oilcloth table covering.

Daisy jumped guiltily. 'I bought it the other day in a little shop I found in town. It's such a pretty pattern, don't you think? And it will protect the surface of the table.'

'Hmm…' Jack shook his head. 'You mustn't go spending money recklessly, sweetheart, just because there's a bit more coming in each week. We must put some by for a rainy day.'

She lowered her gaze, allowing her auburn curls to fall forward to hide her face. Was it always going to be like this? Was he always going to quibble about every penny she spent?

He realised he'd upset her and reached out to touch her, saying, 'It's very nice, Daisy.'

She looked down at his hand on her arm. How big and strong it was! His arms were brawny with a layer of black hair. She remembered that he'd once won a pint of beer in The Rose and Crown for arm wrestling. It was when they were still living in Wandsworth. He had come home, slightly the worse for wear, proudly proclaiming that the lads thought he ought to be a wrestler. I'm glad he's not, she thought, wrestlers are always ugly with twisted noses and cauliflower ears.

'Well,' he said mopping up the last of the gravy with a chunk of bread, 'it's an early night for me, got to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.'

She struggled to her feet and collected up the empty plates. 'You go off to bed while I wash up the dishes. Then I'll join you. I'll try not to wake you if you're already asleep.'

Jack got up and tenderly kissed the top of her head, saying, 'Don't worry, I'll be dead to the world by the time you come up.'

Daisy gave a little shudder at his turn of phrase.

 

Left on her own, Daisy boiled up a kettle of water and set about washing the plates and cooking utensils, scraping off the residue of ground-in fat with a wire scourer. As she dried her hands she couldn't help wishing they were as white and smooth as they had been before she became a married lady. And now that her time was nearly due she was finding the housework tiring. In Wandsworth there had only been one room to keep clean since her mother-in-law had taken care of the shared staircase, sometimes doing it herself, sometimes ordering one of her daughters to do it.

Slipping off her apron, Daisy switched off the gas lamp and lit a candle before making her way to the hall. The flight of stairs ahead of her was daunting. The stairs were narrow and steep and it took all her strength to drag herself up.

As predicted, Jack was already asleep so placing the candle on the chest of drawers, she started to get undressed. It was such a relief to discard some of the layers: the shawl knotted around her shoulders, the woollen blouse that by the end of the day made her skin itch, the heavy serge skirt and, last of all, the starched petticoat. Gingerly lowering herself into the rocking chair her mother had insisted they bought for nursing purposes, she kicked off her boots without undoing the laces and slid down her lisle stockings.

Going to the bed, she carefully removed Jack's arm which lay across her pillow and drew out her winceyette nightdress from under it. She slipped it over her head, untangling it when it wrinkled over her protruding stomach. Utterly exhausted, she blew out the candle and sank between the sheets.

 

Daisy's two-week wait extended into three and by the end of the third week she was desperate to get the whole business of giving birth over and done with. To make matters worse, her mother-in-law paid them a visit and regaled them with disturbing accounts of her own first confinement. Even Jack could see how upsetting this was for his young wife and attempted to change the subject but Gladys enjoyed giving voice to her own experiences.

'Ma, you're upsetting Daisy,' he butted in after she had given a lurid account of how, after giving birth to Leonard, her eldest, the bedroom had looked like a slaughterhouse.

'Sorry, love,' she leant over and patted Daisy's hand as it rested on her protruding stomach, 'it's not always like that so I'm sure you'll be all right.'

Fortunately, Gladys was called home when her youngest went down with measles, putting paid to her intention to stay over until after the birth.

The day after her departure, Jack was reluctant to go to work. 'Are you sure you'll be all right, sweetheart?'

Daisy nodded her head. She wasn't at all sure but knew that Jack needed to get to work, particularly on this day because he had been enrolled on a training course, the first step towards promotion.

She saw him off in her dressing gown, returning to lie down on the bed for a further half hour before fixing herself some breakfast. The doctor had said she must keep her strength up by eating regular meals but she didn't feel hungry.

'Don't forget, my girl,' her mother-in-law had repeatedly reminded her, 'you're eating for two.'

She fell asleep, waking an hour later with a terrible backache and when she tried to prise herself off the bed, the contractions began. She waited, seated on the edge of the bed for the first ones to pass then levered herself up and slipping her feet into her carpet slippers, she struggled downstairs, clinging to the handrail for support.

By the time she reached the hallway, the contractions were coming thick and fast. Tearfully she thought about Gladys, sorry now that she had departed. Her waters broke just as she reached the front door. Doubled over in pain, she shouted to her neighbour, a kindly soul who had befriended Daisy shortly after she and Jack had moved in.

She appeared at the door, wiping her hands on her brightly coloured apron. 'I've just been doing some baking,' she said then frowned. 'So your time's come, Mrs Webster. Don't worry, dear, I'll send young Jimmy to fetch the midwife.'

She shouted for her nine-year-old grandson, who appeared almost immediately. 'Go and get Mrs Sparks, my lad and be quick about it otherwise Mrs Webster will drop the baby on the doorstep.'

She ushered Daisy back into the house. 'You'll never get up those stairs,' she said, 'it will have to be the settee.'

Daisy was too distressed to explain to Mrs Durrant that they hadn't yet been able to afford a settee. But the lady was not put off. Helping Daisy to an upright chair, she hurried upstairs, returning with several pillows and an eiderdown.

'These will do just fine,' she said.

The midwife arrived in time. Daisy had only met her on one occasion and she wished she could have had her original midwife, Mrs Phelps from Wandsworth, a woman she had got to know quite well.

Mrs Durrant was helpful. She sent Jimmy to the station to ask Bert to get a message to Jack but as he had gone to Brighton for his training it was unlikely he would get back before nightfall.

The contractions continued and, afterwards, Daisy could remember little of what went on. All she could think of was the terrible time her mother had had when giving birth to her.

'It could be a difficult one,' muttered the midwife to Mrs Durrant, not intending Daisy to hear her. 'She should be in hospital.'

'Shall I send Jimmy to call for an ambulance?' whispered back Mrs Durrant.

'No, maybe it will be all right.'

Daisy felt remote from the two women. Despite the awful circumstances of her own mother's confinement, Mary Manning had never gone into details about it. Her daughter had only learned how terrible it had been when, as a little girl, she had asked her father why she was an only child when all her school friends had brothers and sisters. How she wished her mother was by her side now!

'It's time to push, dear.' She heard the midwife's instructions through a haze. 'Come on now, push hard and it will all be over.'

Summoning up all her remaining strength, Daisy obeyed and to her relief, she heard a small cry.

'Well, my dear,' said Mrs Sparks as the baby's cries grew in strength, 'you've done it. You've got a lovely little boy and he's got a healthy pair of lungs.'

The relief was so great that Daisy wanted to shout for joy but all she could muster was a feeble whimper. Closing her eyes, she let the two women do what was necessary, holding the baby to her breast after they had cleaned him up.

While she nursed him, she could hear the two of them whispering anxiously.

'She'll be confined to bed for a week at least,' said the midwife. 'Has she got anybody to look after her?'

'Well, there's her mother-in-law,' said Mrs Durrant. 'She was here only yesterday but she's gone home.'

'What about her own mother?'

'I don't know anything about her.'

Daisy tried to raise herself from the pillows. 'She's not well, she can't walk; Mum's crippled with arthritis.'

Mrs Durrant came over and looked down at her. 'I didn't know that.' Her eyes were full of sympathy as she added, 'Not to worry, I'll look in on you every day, two or three times if necessary.'

'You can't do that, Mrs Durrant, you've got too much to do looking after your grandchildren and your invalid husband.'

'We'll work something out.'

'We'd better get the new mother upstairs to bed,' said the midwife briskly.

It took the women ten minutes to help Daisy up the steep flight of stairs. She sank into a deep sleep only to be woken with instructions that it was time to feed her offspring.

 

Once the news reached him, Jack was allowed to go home. Nonetheless, it was evening before he arrived. He raced up the stairs, two at a time, to find Daisy nursing his son.

'A boy!' Pride made his voice screech. 'Was it bad?'

Daisy smiled through the tears she couldn't hold back. 'Not too bad. I've survived, haven't I? But I am supposed to have some bed rest.'

Jack looked worried then his brow cleared. 'Ma will sort something out. Maybe she'll come back or maybe she'll send Ruthie to help out.'

'But Ruthie's only fourteen,' protested Daisy.

'She's very sensible.'

There was little choice since Gladys firmly refused to leave her youngest when he was suffering so badly with measles and the next day, Ruthie arrived carrying a battered cardboard suitcase secured with string.

She was a skinny girl with mousey hair tied into plaits and a complexion marked by adolescent spots, the latter made worse by constant scratching. She greeted her brother with a wide smile but managed only a nod at Daisy. Jack showed her where everything was and explained the quickest route to the shops.

During their first year of marriage, Daisy hadn't had much to do with Ruthie but she had felt sorry for her. Gladys had insisted that she should leave school at thirteen to help look after her younger siblings instead of taking advantage of the extra year of education currently allowed by the Government. There was an ongoing row between mother and daughter about this state of affairs and Daisy could well understand Ruth's resentment. She vowed to make things as easy as possible for her during her stay.

Mrs Durrant continued to call in from time to time. 'I just like to check up on things, ' she said and, turning to Ruthie, added, 'I'm sure you're very capable, my dear but it doesn't hurt to have me to fall back on if needs be. Where did you say you live, Ruth?'

'Wandsworth,' was the grunted reply.

'Ah…' Mrs Durrant clasped her hands across her apron clad stomach and sighed. 'I went up to London once. It was very busy.'

'Your mean it's alive, not half asleep like…'

Daisy caught her sister-in-law's eye in a bid to stop her saying anything else and Ruth shuffled her feet and shook her head so that her twisted little plaits bobbed on her shoulders.

Fortunately, Mrs Durrant didn't take offence easily and a possible confrontation was averted. However, it didn't make Daisy's 'lying-in' any easier because she was always on tender-hooks.

Something happened towards the end of the week that revealed a different side to Ruthie. Daisy woke up feeling much stronger and gingerly made the descent down the narrow staircase to the living room. Much to her surprise, she found Ruthie engrossed in a book. As far as Daisy knew, the Websters were not book lovers. During her stay in Wandsworth she hadn't seen a single book lying around. She had noticed this because in her own home there were several bookshelves housing an assortment of novels and biographies. Daisy herself had read all the Jane Austin and the Bronte classics, encouraged by both her mother and father, who were avid readers. Jack had frequently teased her about always having her nose in a book, and when she had recommended a title to him he had laughed her off.

Ruthie looked up guiltily when she entered the room. Flustered, she put the book down and stammered, 'I was doing no harm; I just wanted to see what it was about.'

Daisy was swift to reassure her. 'Go ahead, Ruthie, take a look through the bookshelf. You can borrow any of the books.'

Ruthie eyes lit up. 'Can I?'

This proved to be the 'open sesame' to their friendship. From that moment on, Ruth treated Daisy with respect and by the time she was due to leave for home they had formed a warm relationship. In fact, the evening before her departure, the young girl opened up to her. They were seated at the dining-room table, Jack having scoffed his meal and gone up to bed, which was often the case after a hard day's work.

'You can take a book with you, Ruthie,' said Daisy, 'more than one if you want to.'

'I'll take great care of them,' mumbled Ruth, picking up the one she was currently reading and hugging it to her chest. 'I won't let Davey or Gerald grab 'em.'

'Is Davey still as difficult these days?' asked Daisy, recalling the troublesome eleven-year-old who would never do what he was told and was prone to angry outbursts.

'He's worse,' said Ruth, 'Pa says he oughta be sent away but Ma won't hear of it. She finds it hard looking after him and Gerald. Gerald thinks he's funny, you see and goes and copies him. The doctor says Davey's got something wrong with him and he oughta be institu…'

'Institutionalised,' finished Daisy.

'Yes, he should be in the loony bin but Ma says no 'cos I'm good at handling him.'

'Is that why you haven't found yourself a job since leaving school?'

Ruth nodded and to Daisy's amazement she burst into tears. It all came out then: the rows with her parents when the fourteen-year-old wanted to spread her wings and find herself a job enabling her to meet other young people instead of being stuck at home with the disagreeable Davey, who had been expelled from three different schools.

For a split second, Daisy was tempted to suggest that Ruth stay down by the seaside living with them. After all, the house was big enough with three first floor bedrooms and a box room in the attic. Just in time she thought of Jack's reaction to this suggestion. He would not welcome his young sister becoming a permanent fixture in their lives. Like his father, he was not the most tolerant of men.

The next day, Jack escorted his sister to the station. He carried her battered suitcase and she clutched three books under her arm, held together with an old leather strap, protecting them as if they were gold nuggets.

 

Three months later when Daisy had regained her health, Gladys, Ruthie, Davey and Gerald came down for the Christening. Alf Webster decided not to come, stating that he didn't believe in all that rigmarole. Jack's other brother, Leonard brought his wife and his other sister, Lizzie took time of work to come too.

Daisy had planned the event for weeks beforehand. The baby would wear the Christening gown she had worn twenty-one years earlier and her mother had worn before that. It was so beautiful, creamy white with a lacy hem and cuffs! She searched her wardrobe for a suitable outfit to wear for the occasion. At the back of the cupboard she found her wedding dress covered by a sheet, and drawing it out, she spread it out on the bed. The white dress with its frilled neck-line and nipped in waist brought back memories of her wedding day. They had got married in Highgate and she remembered how happy she had been because her mother was able to attend, albeit in a wheelchair. She heaved a sigh: she couldn't wear the white wedding dress for Teddy's Christening. Maybe she could dye it. The idea was quickly dismissed because she had a dream that one day she would have a daughter who would wear it for her wedding.

In the end, she plucked up courage and on his next pay day, she asked Jack if she could buy a new dress. He frowned at first, then relented and delved into his pocket, handing her a bundle of notes. She flung her arms around his neck, kissing his face all over. He laughed and hugged her back, adding, 'Don't get too excited I won't be this generous very often but, after all, it is for our son's Christening.'

It was a beautiful summer's day and the family formed a crocodile as they made their way to the church. Mrs Durrant came too, bringing with her the grandson who had played his part on the day of Daisy's confinement. The general idea was that since he and Gerald were close in age, they would be company for one another. This proved to be a catastrophic mistake since, once they reached the churchyard they took great delight in playing 'catch' around the gravestones even before the family had entered the church. Once inside, they were kept apart by Mrs Durrant and Gladys.

Over the preceding weeks, Daisy and Jack had discussed the baby's name at length, settling at last on Edward.

'It's only right,' said Daisy, 'because our little boy is one of the first Edwardians.'

'Isn't it a bit la-di-da naming our son after the King? We'll probably end up calling him Ted anyway.'

In fact, almost from the start, the child was called Teddy.

The Christening ceremony went off without a hitch although Mrs Durrant and Gladys looked grim faced as they left the church, having had great difficulty keeping their young charges under control. The company filed home to squeeze into Number Seven where Daisy aided by the two older women bustled around serving sandwiches and cups of tea.

By the late afternoon, Leonard and Lizzie had departed but the others had decided to stay on for a couple of days to take advantage of the sea air. Ruth, Davey and Gerald even ventured into the water but none of them was happy about the pebbly beach and, when he stubbed his toe, Davey lost his temper and ended up throwing stones at all and sundry.

Ruthie managed to calm him down, giving Daisy yet another insight into her sister-in-law's caring nature although she hated the way Gladys left everything to her daughter. By bedtime everybody was ready for an early night, the sea air having played its part in wearing out the younger boys. After feeding Teddy, Daisy went to join Jack who was already asleep. She felt content: the Christening had gone well and a day by the sea seemed to have kept everybody happy.

She was woken up in the small hours by a terrible kafuffle on the landing, followed by a scream and a loud thump. Jumping out of bed she rushed to the door and, in the half light, saw to her horror that Gladys was lying at the foot of the stairs in a crumpled heap. Davey stood at the head of the stairs swinging his arms and kicking one leg back and forth as if it were a pendulum.

Ruth and Jack arrived seconds later. Shoving Davey aside, Jack raced downstairs to his mother.

'Take Davey back to bed, Ruthie,' said Daisy before going downstairs to join Jack.

But the girl didn't move. She just stood staring down, traumatized, while her brother continued to swing his leg back and forth, wailing at the top of his voice.

'Is she conscious?' asked Daisy as Jack gently turned Gladys' head towards him. She clapped a hand to her mouth when she saw that her mother-in-law's eyes were wide open, staring.

Jack shook his head. 'She must have knocked her head on the handrail as she fell.' He looked wildly at Daisy. 'How did this happen? Why was she going downstairs?'

Daisy looked up and saw that, thankfully, Ruth was no longer transfixed. Somehow, she had pacified her young brother and was now leading him back to the bedroom. But Davey's wail had been replaced by Teddy's cry. It was time for the early morning feed and Daisy knew that if she didn't put him to her breast, his cry would turn into an ear-splitting scream.

What happened after that would always be a blur to Daisy. Jack pulled himself together and dashed along to the station in order to use their phone to call for an ambulance. Disturbed by all the noise, Mrs Durrant came in and took charge while Daisy breast-fed Teddy. The good lady helped Ruth get Davey back to bed; his younger brother, Gerald, had slept through the entire incident.

They all knew, before the arrival of the ambulance that there was no hope for Gladys. Ruthie seemed panic-stricken rather than saddened by her mother's fate, and Daisy wondered whether she had already realised the onus that would now fall on her frail shoulders with two little brothers to be taken care of.

 

After a few fraught months, life returned to normal and Jack and Daisy were able to look forward to their first Christmas in their own home. Once he had completed his six-month trial Jack was given a substantial rise so that Daisy was at last able to buy the hall runner she liked so much and to choose a settee to complete the furnishing of their front room.

That first Christmas was one of the happiest in Daisy's life. The trains weren't running on Christmas Day so she was able to celebrate with the two people she loved the most without being tied to a routine. It was true that Jack had to report for duty the next day but the train timetable had been changed and he was able to stay in bed for a little longer on Boxing Day.

'That was a wonderful meal, love,' said Jack, leaning back in his chair. He patted his stomach. 'I wish I had room for a bit more of that Christmas pudding.'

'You'd burst,' laughed Daisy. She got up from the table. 'Go and relax on our new settee while I see to the dishes. Turn the wireless on; there might be some music for you to listen to.'

'Send me to sleep, more like,' said Jack. And he was right because no more than five minutes later, Daisy peeped into the room and saw that he was fast asleep, his mouth hanging open and a gentle snore making his chest reverberate.

She finished the washing-up and then attended to Teddy, who was beginning to whimper for his feed. She loved breast feeding him. In her arms he felt so soft and small and vulnerable. Sometimes she wished he would stay like that forever. Other times she imagined him as a young man: tall and strong and handsome. All the girls would be after him, of course, but she would be picky. Her boy's future wife would have to be just right. She would suddenly come to her senses and laugh. Why think so far ahead? Besides, her Teddy would not countenance an interfering mother. He would be perfectly capable of choosing his own wife.

She always day-dreamed during feeding time; sometimes this made her happy, sometimes sad. As she swayed in the rocking-chair her thoughts went back to the day of Gladys' accident. For days afterwards she had scrubbed at the blood-stains on the floorboards at the foot of the stairs, but she was never able to completely remove them. Now of course they were hidden by the new Kashmir Red runner. She kept in touch with Ruthie, writing to her regularly every week and offering to lend her more books to read. Ruthie replied but Daisy could tell that she was very discontented with her lot. Even though Davey had been sent to a special home for disturbed young people, Ruthie still had the responsibility of looking after her father and her little brother. Gerald was now ten and had turned out to be a bright pupil at school, but he was a handful at home.

The clock struck six and Daisy heard Jack's footsteps on the stairs.

'Still up here, sweetheart,' he said, poking his head round the bedroom door. 'I could do with a cuppa.'

Daisy sighed and moved the baby from her breast. 'I'm just coming. Put the kettle, there's a love.'

They went to bed at nine o'clock and despite his afternoon nap, Jack still fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.

 

The next eighteen months flew past and the couple were delighted when Daisy found she was pregnant again. This time the confinement went well and Margaret, or Madge as she came to be called, was born on a sunny April morning.

'We really must take the children to see their grandparents,' said Daisy. 'After all, my ma and pa have only seen Teddy twice and I know Ma will be excited to see her new granddaughter. On the way we could call in to your folk in Wandsworth. I know Ruthie will want to see her niece.'

'Well, I've got some holiday due so why don't we go in June. By then, our little Madge will have settled into a routine.'

And so it was that Teddy and Madge were taken to meet the family. The Highgate visit where Daisy's parents lived was a little awkward. Jack had never seemed able to come to terms with Daisy's background. In fact, it was only when they visited her home that she noticed how gauche his manners could be. Her mother had a daily maid, something that his mother could have done with when her six children were little.

The stop off in Wandsworth delighted Jack but it upset Daisy to see how downtrodden his sister Ruth had become. She had brought a couple of romantic novels for her but when she handed them to Ruth, the girl sighed and said, 'Thank you, Daisy, but when am I going to have time to read them?'

 

Things were going well. Jack had been given another rise and they were able to spend money on a few extras, even buying a second-hand Columbia phonograph. They were only able to afford three records to play on it and there was a long discussion in the shop before the choice was made.

'I love In the Good Old Summertime and The Entertainer, maybe we should buy both,' said Daisy.

Jack disagreed. 'We've got to buy When You Were Sweet Sixteen.' He gave his wife's waist a squeeze.

Daisy jumped away, feigning indignation, although secretly she liked it when her husband displayed affection. 'What do you think you're doing, Jack Webster, here in a shop full of customers?'

In the end they settled for Daisy's choice of In the Good Old Summertime, Jack's When You Were Sweet Sixteen and a stirring Sousa march.

These records were played over and over again until Daisy began to think they would drive her mad. Teddy loved them, especially the Sousa march, which surprisingly helped to lull his little sister to sleep. And in the evening, after the children were in bed, Jack would play the records again, always finishing with his favourite whereupon he would pull Daisy to her feet and waltz her around the room.

Everything seemed wonderful to Daisy and she seemed to be floating through the days with a smile on her face. During the summer following Madge's birth she would prepare a picnic and take the children down to the beach getting to know other young mothers who were doing the same thing. In later years, she would reflect that June, July and August of 1903 were halcyon days.

 

Jack too was content. He was still a porter but hoped that eventually he would be promoted to ticket collector or even guard. He got on well with his colleagues but didn't spend very much time in the pub after work, as most of them did. He was friendly with the regulars, those who travelled daily to London or Portsmouth. And occasionally, he would take advantage of the concession fares granted him to take the family on a day trip to Brighton or Eastbourne.

While they were in Eastbourne, Daisy pointed to a tower at the end of the pier. 'What's that?' she asked.

'It's a camera obscura, love.'

'A camera obs….what did you say?'

'You go up in the tower and they close all the windows so it's pitch black then through a pinhole they show you all the surrounding area just as if you're actually out there.'

'What's the point of that?' said Daisy, wrinkling her nose.

'Tell you what…' said Jack, delving in his pocket for some coins, 'we'll go up there and you can see for yourself.'

'I don't know about that,' said Daisy, holding back, 'I mean, won't Teddy be frightened?'

'Not if I hold his hand. Look…' He pointed to his daughter. 'And Madge is fast asleep anyway.'

And so, much to Daisy's delight, they paid a visit to the camera obscura. She was awestruck and wouldn't stop talking about it all the way home. She loved those outings and usually came back with a memento, a paste statuette of the Brighton Pavilion or a postcard featuring Eastbourne pier. On that occasion she bought a postcard of the camera obscura tower.

She persuaded Jack, who liked to do a bit of carpentry, to build a little cubbyhole in the dining-room wall for her souvenir knick-knacks. He even constructed a little door with a lock.

'There you are, Daisy,' he said, proudly handing her the key, 'now you've got somewhere to keep all your little secrets.'

'What secrets have I got?' scoffed Daisy, delighted with her husband's handy-work.

On a visit to Brighton, Jack was amused by the shock on his wife's face when a group of young women came out of a bathing machine wearing the most up-to-date swimsuits.

'How can they show their arms and legs like that,' she whispered in his ear.

'But sweetheart, they're not showing very much in those long-sleeved dresses and frilly bloomers,' he replied. 'You will have to get used to modern ways; it won't be long before lady's skirts will be well above the ankle.'

 

He was on duty one foggy October day. Most trains had been cancelled due to the weather and to get out of the penetrating cold, Jack joined his mate Reg in the signal box for a cup of tea. All at once, a message came through that a train was approaching. Reg quickly closed the level crossing gates but there were already several people walking across the track. Jack raced down the signal box steps yelling at the top of his voice. A couple of people heard him and hurried off the track but an elderly woman seemed deaf to his warning and continued to meander on, head down, looking neither to left nor right. Without hesitation, Jack leapt over the barrier and rushed towards her, pushing his hands into the small of her back so that she landed face-down on the opposite side.

The next minutes were a blur. As he catapulted himself forward he knew that he had been hit, but it was to be days before he would learn the truth.

 

Daisy opened the door with Madge in her arms and Teddy pulling at her skirt. A policeman confronted her. His manner seemed overly respectful and she instinctively knew he was the bearer of bad news.

'Mrs Webster?' he enquired.

Daisy nodded. Her mouth had gone dry and she knew that if she tried to speak only a squeak would come out.

'I'm afraid your husband has been involved in an accident.'

Daisy found her voice. 'He's not ….?'

'No, Mrs Webster, but I'm afraid he's in a bad way. They've taken him to the hospital.'

'Can I go to him?'

'Yes of course but is there someone who could look after your children?'

'My neighbour will help out.'

At this point, Mrs Durrant opened her front door and joined the group on Daisy's doorstep. 'What's happened?' she gasped.

Forcing herself to appear calm, Daisy said, 'Can you take care of the children, Mrs Durrant, only I've got to go to the hospital as my husband's been in an accident?'

'Not serious, I hope. And of course I can take care of the children.'

'I can give you a lift,' said the policeman addressing Daisy.

Still traumatised, Daisy went indoors to collect the necessary baby paraphernalia to hand to her neighbour then grabbed her purse and her shawl and followed the policeman to his waiting vehicle. She had never been in a car before but the experience which would normally have been exciting was far from that. On the way, the policeman explained what had happened.

'Your husband was very brave,' he said, 'he saved a lady's life.'

'What actually happened?'

'He jumped over the barrier just as a train was approaching because the lady in question didn't hear his shout of warning. He didn't give a thought to the danger…' he swallowed before continuing, 'it was one of the bravest things I've ever heard of.'

'Is he badly injured?'

'I can't say, you'll have to ask the Doctor about that.'

At the hospital, the Sister in Charge led her to a private ward. Jack's face normally quite ruddy due to the sea air, was as white as the sheets on which he lay. His eyes were closed, his hands on the counterpane, scratched. But her gaze was drawn to his left leg, which was suspended in a sling. Briefly, she experienced relief. So he'd broken his leg, surely that would mend?

The Sister whispered although it was clear that Jack was unconscious to the world. 'It's his foot, I'm afraid.'

'It looks as if his leg is broken.'

The Sister shook her head. 'No, his leg is cut and bruised but unfortunately, it was his foot that took the full force of the hit. It was trapped between the rails.

'Oh God!' Daisy felt her head begin to spin as the impact of what the Sister was about to tell her sank in. She felt behind her for the arm of a chair, glad of its proximity.

'We don't know for sure yet, but it's possible they'll have to amputate. I'll get the Doctor to talk to you. Would you like a cup of tea?'

The Sister took Daisy's arm and led her out of the room, settling her in a waiting area while she ordered one of the nurses to pour some tea. 'Make it sweet,' she said.

'I don't like sweet tea,' protested Daisy.

Nonetheless, when it arrived she was grateful for the sugar boost.

 

Daisy got a horse-drawn cab home. Mrs Durrant was looking out for her and opened the door immediately.

'Come and sit down, dear, you look as if you've had a terrible shock. Tell me about it.'

Daisy's hands were shaking as she accepted another cup of tea, this time without sugar. Mumbling through her tears, she gave Mrs Durrant a garbled account of what had happened.

The woman put her arm around her, gently stroking her bowed head. 'You poor, poor, dear…'

Over the next few days, while Jack lay in a coma, Daisy tried to carry on as normal. With two young children, there was always so much to do and, in a way, this helped to deaden her emotions. You couldn't spend your day crying when there were two hungry infants to attend to. When Jack regained consciousness, she visited as often as she could but cab fares weren't cheap and money problems began to worry her.

On several occasions she spoke to the Doctor only to be told that they were hoping to save Jack's foot, although a decision about amputation may eventually have to be made. Jack himself was in reasonably good spirits. His cuts and bruises had cleared up and the question of whether or not his foot could be saved seemed to have gone over his head.

When Daisy mentioned this to the Sister, she said, 'This often happens with possible amputees. It's too traumatic for them to be able to face up to it.'

Persuaded by Jack's refusal to accept that this could happen to him, Daisy took the view that as bad as things were they were bound to get better.

After a couple of weeks, Jack was allowed to get up as long as he didn't try to walk on his damaged leg. This entailed being pushed around in a cane wheelchair, which seemed a bit of a lark at first but soon became annoying. The Railway Company paid Jack's wages for a month, after which they wrote him a letter saying that his salary would be cut to half pending his return to work. This threw Jack into a frenzy of impatience resulting in him demanding to see the doctor. Daisy tried to calm him down with assurances that they could manage. 'I'll cut back on meat,' she said, 'after all Teddy will thrive on vegetables and fruit and I'm still breast-feeding Madge.'

She hoped she had reassured Jack but, in fact, worry and lack of protein were causing her milk to dry up and she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to  breast feed her baby. She was troubled too because Jack complained that she didn't visit him enough and when she explained that the cab fare was biting into their savings, he slipped into sullen silence so that she was only too pleased when the visiting hour was over and she was able to make her escape.

Six weeks after his accident, the doctor called in a colleague for a second opinion and when Daisy paid her usual visit, the Sister waylaid her. 'The Doctor would like to see you, Mrs Webster,' she said and Daisy could tell by her tone that this wasn't good news.

Numbly, she followed the Sister to a private room. As they entered, the Doctor put down the pen he was using and rose to greet her. 'Ah, Mrs Webster, thank you for coming. Please take a seat.'

After studying the report on his desk, the Doctor looked up. 'I'm afraid the news isn't good. After consideration, we have decided to amputate your husband's left foot.' When Daisy gave a gasp, he went on, 'we have done all we can to save the foot but the infection is affecting your husband's general health. He will be much better once the amputation has been performed.'

Daisy closed her eyes and clenched her fists. In her mind's eye, she saw Jack stumbling about with crutches. How would he manage the stairs? How could he return to work? In that moment, their whole beautiful future exploded into a thousand pieces. The good times they were going to have; the improvements they were going to make to their home; the education they were going to give their children. Neither of them wanted Teddy and Madge to leave school at thirteen as Jack had been obliged to do. Then the worst thought of all blasted her mind: if Jack couldn't work for the Railway Company, they would have to move out of Number Seven.

'Are you all right, Mrs Webster, can I get the nurse to bring you some water?'

Daisy blinked her eyes open. 'Have you told my husband yet?'

'No, we thought you should know first.'

'When are you planning to tell him?'

'This afternoon… Would you like to be present?'

She nodded. 'But there's something I want to ask you.'

'Yes?'

'Will my husband be able to walk, I mean, can he be fitted with an artificial foot?'

'Yes, of course he can. Great advances have been made recently in the manufacture of artificial limbs, all down to the genius of a certain Mr Gillingham.'

Daisy clasped her hands to her face. She couldn't believe it. Now there really was hope for a better future.

The Doctor smiled. 'Yes, Mrs Webster, and I think you'll find that in view of the accident occurring on railway premises and the partial loss of a limb, your husband is entitled to compensation.'

'Oh.'

It had never occurred to Daisy that her husband's accident could be the fault of the Railway Company, but of course it was. If the train had been running in accordance with the signals, the level crossing gates would have been lowered several minutes before it shot through. This realisation lifted such a weight from her shoulders that Daisy felt almost light-hearted.

The Doctor spoke again. 'Of course, the hospital will back up any claim your husband makes.'