“But . . . what will you put on his birth certificate?”
“I’ll make up a name.”
Audrey exhaled in frustration. She had to stop her friend from making a terrible mistake, one that would ruin her son’s life as well as her own. “You’re making a very poor decision, Eve. You’ll be forced to lie to your son for the rest of his life. Wouldn’t it be better for him to grow up in a home with two parents?”
“A home like yours, Audrey?”
The words stung and brought tears to Audrey’s eyes. “Please take some time to pray about your decision.”
Eve’s response was swift and angry. “Now, why would God answer that prayer when He hasn’t answered any of the others? I prayed that He would keep Mum safe, yet she died. Horribly. I prayed that He would keep Alfie safe—and so did you, I might add—yet Alfie died. Also horribly. This baby is the only family I have. Could you give up your child if you were in my shoes?”
“I can’t say. I’m not in your shoes. But let me ask you this . . . what would your mum advise you to do if she were here? Or your granny?”
“I don’t think either of them would judge me. They sacrificed everything for me. I didn’t have a father, but I always knew how much my family loved me. And I’m determined to raise Harry to know the same thing, even if I have to be a scullery maid to do it.”
“But if the rest of society doesn’t accept him—”
“You followed all the rules, Audrey, all your life. Society may have accepted you, but did you feel loved?”
Audrey rose and left the room. She sat in her own bedroom, sickened, and discovered that she still envied Eve Dawson—as she had all her life. She envied Eve’s courage, her certainty, and most of all, the legacy of love that would help her become a loving mother. Audrey could have learned that from Eve, too, if she weren’t leaving for America.
Her own labor pains started a few hours later. When the midwife arrived, Eve nestled her son in a laundry basket and carried him downstairs so she could stay by Audrey’s side. “I’m sorry I was unkind,” Eve whispered as she held her hand.
“I’m sorry for what I said, too.”
Audrey’s son was born the next day after hours of the worst pain Audrey had ever known. She remembered Eve’s question as she held little Bobby in her arms and knew the answer was no. She could never give away her son, no matter what.
As soon as she was able, Audrey put through a telephone call to the United States to tell Robert the wonderful news. “It’s a boy, Robert! A beautiful, healthy baby boy!”
“I’m wiping tears of joy,” he replied. It was glorious to hear his voice through the static. “And are you all right, darling Audrey? I wish I was there with you.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Our son reminds me so much of you that it’s like having a little part of you here with me. He has lovely dark hair just like yours.”
“I hoped he’d have your hair. It’s such a beautiful color.”
“I love you, Robert. I pray that all three of us will be together soon.”
“I’m praying for the same thing. I love you, darling Audrey.”
They would always be the most beautiful words Audrey ever heard in her life.
24
WELLINGFORD HALL, SEPTEMBER 1946
It had become a habit—one which Audrey thoroughly enjoyed—to spend a few minutes in the sitting room with Eve and their two sons every morning while Eve took a break from work. The babies, now three months old, were growing quickly and already were as different in looks and temperament as she and Eve were. Audrey’s son, Bobby, had Robert’s dark hair and eyes and a solemn, sensitive nature. Eve’s son, Harry, had his father’s ginger hair and blue eyes and was as cheerful as his mother always had been. Motherhood seemed to come naturally to Eve, and she was teaching Audrey how to be a good mother to this child she loved so fiercely. They were laughing together and trying to coax a smile from little Bobby when Robbins brought in the morning post. The sight of a thick packet from the United States government made Audrey’s pulse quicken. “Oh, my. They’re finally here.”
“Are those your immigration documents?” Eve asked, leaning closer to see.
“It looks like them. I guess the wait is finally over.” Audrey laid Bobby in his bassinet and carried the package to her desk to open it. Eve followed, bouncing little Harry in her arms. Audrey slit open the envelope with her paper knife, her emotions careening from joy to dread and back again like an out-of-control car. Joy that she and Robert would be together at last. Dread at the thought of leaving her home and starting a new life among strangers in a foreign land. She pulled out the letter, saw her name, Mrs. Robert Barrett, and that of her son, Robert Clarkson Barrett. She read the opening paragraph, then looked up at Eve. “We’ve been approved.”