CHAPTER 32
My dreaming grew worse for a while, but Tricia was always there, and as she grew I found myself so tense with fear of harming her or our child that the nightmares only stayed away because I never really fell asleep.

My lovely girl was blooming, really settling into ‘expecting’, and we had regular visits from my Mam and hers, as old baby clothes and other items like a cot and a pram were gathered in from contacts far and wide. Having family in the local bakery meant a LOT of contacts, which did us no harm.

Dad and Cyril helped us out with other contacts, and we went up in the world three months after Bob’s farewell, moving into a proper two-bedroom council house over by the Knavesmire. Naturally, I started on what we were already calling the nursery almost as soon as we opened the new front door that first day. Tricia just stood there grinning happily, one hand cradling her bump.

“We have to talk, Gerald. Important questions to be settled”

“What? Blue or pink?”

“Aye, pet, there’s that, but when Baby arrives, well, we can’t just call it ‘Baby’, now, can we? Wee one needs a name”

I think she already knew that I had one in mind, because she just smiled and said “We are not calling it Geraldine if it’s a little girl. I thought Susan would be nice. I don’t think Mam’s name is really one for modern girls, and, well, she would be right put out if we gave her your Mam’s name. So we need a middle one. And think of initials!”

“I always liked Jane, love”

“Really? Which Jane would that be, husband of mine?”

“You are a tease, Tricia Barker! Susan Jane sounds fine to me”

She looked down and away, then back at me. “My love, we both know what you would give a boy, so there’ll be no argument from me on that score, just to clear air before you look to avoid an argument we were never going to have. Robert is fine with me, and it will be with our family”

I kissed my wife, and as I was close enough I whispered in her ear. “Had an idea for middle name as well, pet. It sort of kills too birds with one stone. Happen we had nicknames for our tanks—“

“Gerald Barker, you can---“

Her voice had risen, so I held her at arms’ length and offered her my best smile.

“No, love, listen. Tanks we drove were called Cromwells, aye? So we called one Olly, bit of a joke about Stan and Ollie, so when we got replacement, well, it were Stan—“

“I am not having any Stanleys or Olivers---“

“No, love. Your maiden name, like some folk do, that were my thought, and it would fit in with Olly and Stan, nice as you like. Robert Hardy Barker. Means we keep your family name alive as well for when, you know…”

“I’ll not think of things like that with new life on way, love, but aye. Robert Hardy Barker. Sounds good to me”

So of course I had to give her another kiss. We were married, and it was allowed.

Work was going well, and the boss had done wonderfully in securing a contract with Hoseasons, who were expanding rapidly in the business of boating holidays. They weren’t my style of boat, mostly cabin cruisers of various styles, but they came to us for repair and general maintenance and our workload went up in a big way. I was grateful when Mr Dobbs took on three new mechanics, and gobsmacked when he only went and made me foreman, charge hand, gaffer, call it what you like. It brought me an increase in wages of almost a quarter of what he had been paying me, which not only left me in even greater shock but just about lost for words.

“Gerald, I were right when I took you on, and I’ve seen that proved every day. There’s more to you than just staying a mechanic, lad. Think on: you go looking for another job, bit of man management on your record will do no harm”

“Why would I want to leave, Mr Dobbs?”

“Starting a family, lad. It’s a big thing, and it brings bills. This is a new world, not like it was before War. Things are moving on. I don’t want to lose a good man, so I’ll pay what it takes to keep him. Makes sense to me. Anyway, new contract is paying well, so I should share some of my good fortune. Oh, and be sure to give my regards to that Major of yours. You did well in that business. Just keep proving I were right to take you on, and we’ll both be happy. You got name for little’un yet?”

“Aye. We were thinking Susan Jane or Robert Hardy. Depending, you know”

“Aye, I know. Well, best of luck. And have word with Bert Entwhistle from Legion; get a telephone in, just in case. Bert can help with waiting list”

He turned away to the office phone, picking it up and raising an eyebrow. It made sense, and I nodded. He dialled.

“Bert? Aye, it’s me, who else would be ringing you, unless you’ve got some floozy hidden away somewhere. Got young Gerald here, Barker, aye? Aye. Aye. What’s waiting list like? Aye? Littl’un on way, might need—Bert, thanks. It’s not true what they say about you. Aye, and yours. I’ll let him know. Tara!”

He hung up and turned back to me. “Says he can get line in in three weeks. That suit?”

“Aye. Be right handy if, you know, she has her time come a bit early, like”

“Aye, happen. Any road, you look after that little girl”

“No need to worry about that, Mr Dobbs”

“Aye, but there’s a cruiser there needs new filters. Won’t fit themselves, lad”

I was amazed. New house, new responsibilities, new child on way, and now a TELEPHONE! Next thing would be a telly, or even a motor. Bike or car, I didn’t care. If it were a bike, I could get a sidecar for Bob and Tricia and…

Just that name. It cut me deep, and I decided that if he were a lad he would know all about his namesake, ALL about it, and if…

The thought stung, but it was there, and I faced it squarely. He would be our son, my son, and if he liked lasses all would be fine, and if he liked lads, then all would be just as fine, and anyone like Taylor would find that out the hard and brutal way. I understood now why my own father, so often so remote, had stood by me all through Bob’s fall, and I wondered whose little word in Taylor’s shell-like had hit home hardest. There were words in my mind when I thought about him, and they were words I would never say aloud, but I had been a soldier and by God even if I would never say them aloud I knew every obscenity going, and I could think them.

Calm now, Gerald, and buy Bert a pint next time you see him.

Bert was as good as his word, and three weeks later we had a telephone on a little stand Dad had made, just by our front door. I cuddled my wife carefully as we looked at our new toy.

“Going up in world, love”

“Aye aye, Mr Foreman!”

“That’s Navy, lass, not Army”

“Yes sir!”

“And that’s not how you salute, and you’ve not got hat on, so you wouldn’t—“

She shut me up the nicest way she could, little Bob pressing into me.

Christmas came almost unexpectedly, and New Year followed, the Sixties hitting us in no way at all noticeable at the time. I mean, everyone now goes on about the changes in everything, but it wasn’t like that at all. No sudden shrinking of skirts, no boom in drug taking or sudden change in musical styles. Things went on as they had, and Tricia’s time was getting very near.

“You sure, love?”

“I’ve got my bag packed and I know the number. Nine nine nine. I’ve written down number of pub on pad by telephone if I need anything. You go out and have your pint, and don’t come back stinking. Give Dad a kiss for me”

“I will not! I’ll tell him you sent one, is all!”

“Off you go now, love, and be careful with ice”

I kissed her goodbye and went off to Dad’s local, which was no longer mine as I was a family man of means and not a lad living with his parents. How did all that happen so quickly?

Cyril and Dad were buggers for their cribbage, and even though we were only playing for matches they were merciless. I went to get the round in after yet another stripping, and the landlord called me over.

“Gerald? Got your lass on phone, she sounds upset”

I grabbed the handset from him. “Tricia?”

“Oh, thank God! I really hurt, love. Can you get home sharp?”

“Call an ambulance now, love”

“No, pet. It’s bad wind, just need you to help me into bath. Hot bath, that’ll ease it”

“Are you sure?”

“Aye, love. Just need help getting in and out. Be nice if you’re quick home, pet”

“Aye, but anything else you call ambulance, right?”

“Right. Now get on road, love”

Cyril looked up as I came back to our table without his beer.

“My darling OK?”

“Stomach upset, she says. Warm bath will help—she says!”

“Aye. Women always know best. Want lift home?”

“You sure?”

“Aye. You’ve got nowt else to win off you, so might as well. Sid, Bert, next time, aye?”

We got a chorus of goodnights and Cyril drove us with exaggerated care to my street, and insisted on coming in to say hello.

“I’ll check she’s decent first, Dad”

He laughed, up until the moment when the front door wouldn’t open. Something was blocking it, and fear shot into me.

“Back door! Hurry!”

I nearly took it off its hinges and oh dear God the blood in the kitchen, the trail to where she was lying against the front door, so much blood, and the phone was answered on the third ring

“Police, fire or ambulance?”