I was barely sixteen when my mother passed away. My father had gone off to find work in Leeds about seven years earlier and never returned no word, no money. Almost everyone in the little Yorkshire village turned up for the funeral, lending a hand however they could. Aunt Margaret, Elspeths godmother, would often drop by, offering advice on what to do next. Elspeth scraped through school and got a job delivering post in the neighbouring hamlet.
Elspeth was a sturdy girl the kind people say has blood and milk in her veins. She had a round, rosy face, a button nose, and bright grey eyes that seemed to sparkle. A thick blonde braid fell down to her waist.
The most handsome lad in the village was Colin. Hed returned from the army two years ago and the girls, even the city girls who spent the summer here, could not take their eyes off him. He should have been driving a bus in town, not working the fields, and his looks could have landed him a part in a Hollywood action film. He wasnt in any hurry to pick a bride, though.
One day Aunt Margaret asked Colin to help fix Elspeths fence it had collapsed. In a place like ours, a mans strength is hard to do without. Elspeth could manage the garden, but the house was another matter.
Without much fuss, Colin agreed. He arrived, looked around, and started barking orders: Bring that, fetch this, hand me the tools. Elspeth fetched everything he asked for, her cheeks reddening even more, her braid whipping about. When he grew tired, she fed him a hearty bowl of stew and a strong mug of tea, all the while biting into a slice of crusty black bread with her white, sturdy teeth.
He worked on the fence for three days. On the fourth he simply turned up for a visit. Elspeth fed him a proper dinner, and before long he was staying the night at her cottage, slipping out before dawn so no one would see. In a village, secrets rarely stay hidden.
Aye, lass, dont be so keen on him, Aunt Margaret warned. He wont settle, and if he does youll only end up fighting a losing battle. When the summer girls from the city arrive, youll be green with envy. You deserve a better bloke.
Young love rarely heeds an elders wisdom.
Then Elspeth realised she was pregnant. At first she thought shed caught a cold or been poisoned. Nausea and weakness came in waves. Then, like a hammer to the head, the realisation hit: the child was Colins. Shed considered ending the pregnancy it seemed too early to become a mother but soon thought perhaps it was a blessing. She wouldnt have to raise the child alone; her own mother had managed, and she could manage too. Her father had been a drunk, but shed learned enough from him to pull through. The villagers would talk, and eventually settle down.
When spring arrived, she shed her heavy coat and everyone in the village noticed the swell in her belly. They shook their heads, muttering about the trouble that befell the girl. Nicholas, the local handyman, dropped by to see what she was planning.
Just giving birth, thats all. Dont worry, Ill look after the baby, he said, his hands still smudged with soot from the stove. The firelight flickered on his cheeks and in his eyes.
Colin admired the babys arrival, but he didnt stay. Elspeth made her own decisions, as steady as water rolling off a gooses back. Summer came, and city girls swarmed the village, stealing the spotlight from the local lads.
Elspeth kept at her garden, while Aunt Margaret helped with weeding. Bending over with her swollen belly made the work hard. She hauled half a bucket of water from the well each time. The other women in the village called her a strong woman, a sort of village heroine.
One thing at a time, love, Elspeth would joke.
In midSeptember, a sharp pain tore through her abdomen as if a knife had sliced it in two. The pain faded quickly, only to return. She rushed to Aunt Margaret, who understood immediately from the frightened look in Elspeths eyes.
Right, sit down, Ill be there in a tick, she said, hurrying out of the cottage.
Elspeth ran to Nicholass house, where a lorry sat by the driveway. The other villagers had already driven away in their cars. Nicholas, however, had been out drinking the night before and was still roughhoused. Aunt Margaret scolded him, but Colin, bewildered, could not make sense of the chaos.
Hes ten miles to the hospital! If we wait for the doctor, shell deliver on the way. Lets go! Nicholas shouted.
But how? On a lorry? Shell give birth in the back! a woman protested.
Well take her with us, just in case, Nicholas replied, cutting her off.
They drove cautiously over the rutted road, dodging ditches. Aunt Margaret perched on a sack in the back of the lorry. Once they hit the bit of tarmac, they sped up.
Elspeth writhed in the passenger seat, clenching her lips to suppress a scream, cradling her belly. Nicholas sobered up just enough to glance at her, his fingers white on the steering wheel.
They made it. They dropped Elspeth at the cottage hospital and raced back. Aunt Margaret cursed Colin the whole way for ruining a girls life she was alone, without parents, now with a child, and hed only added to her woes. How will she manage? she huffed.
The lorry hadnt even reached the village when Elspeth had already given birth to a healthy, robust boy. The next morning a nurse brought a bottle for him. Elspeth stared at his tiny, red, puckered face, biting her lip, trying to follow the nurses instructions. Her heart fluttered with joy as she brushed a stray hair from his forehead.
Will anyone come for you? the stern, elderly doctor asked as he was about to discharge her.
Elspeth shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. Probably not. He sighed and left. The nurse wrapped the baby in a hospital blanket and handed it to the driver.
Fergus will take you back to the village in the ambulance. Its not a bus, you cant bring a newborn on a regular coach, she snapped, her tone sharp.
Elspeth thanked her, walked down the corridor with her head low, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
She rode in the ambulance, clutching the bundle to her chest, worrying about how they would manage from now on. Her maternity pay was a pittance, barely enough for a cup of tea. She felt sorry for herself and for the innocent baby. She looked at his crinkled little face, and a wave of tenderness swept over her, pushing the darker thoughts away.
Suddenly the vehicle stalled. Elspeth peered anxiously at the driver, a stout man in his fifties named Frederick.
Its been raining for two days. Look at those puddles we cant get through them. Well have to go on the lorry or a tractor. Sorry, theres still about two miles to go. Can you manage? he asked, pointing at a huge, lakelike puddle that blocked the road.
The baby slept in her arms, his weight tiring her. Im a tough one, she muttered, stepping carefully along the edge of the mire. Mud clung to her boots up to her calves, threatening to pull her in. Her old shoes slapped against the ground; if shed worn rubber boots, none of this would have happened. One boot got stuck, and she had to continue in a single shoe, crawling forward.
When the village lights began to glow, her feet numb from the cold, she finally reached the cottage. She pushed open the door, breathless, and froze.
Inside, a baby cot and a pram stood by the hearth, a mountain of clothes piled on top. Nicholas was slumped at the kitchen table, his head resting on his hands, halfasleep.
He lifted his gaze as the door opened. Elspeth, cheeks flushed, hair a mess, stood in the doorway, the baby swaddled and halfsoaked. Her dress hung wet, her feet still caked in mud. Nicholas sprang up, took the infant, and placed him gently in the cot. He fetched a kettle, filled it with hot water, and set it over the fire. He helped her onto a stool, pulled off her muddy boots, and washed her feet.
On the table, boiled potatoes and a mug of milk waited, as if the house had anticipated her return.
The baby began to wail. Elspeth rushed to him, cradled him, and settled at the table, unashamedly offering her breast.
What shall we call him? Nicholas asked hoarsely.
Serge, she replied, her eyes bright. Do you mind?
Its a good name. Tomorrow well register him and sort out the paperwork, he said.
Its not necessary Elspeth began, watching her son suckle.
My son needs a father. Ive had my fill of wandering. I wont abandon my child, Nicholas declared.
Elspeth nodded, not raising her head.
Two years later they welcomed a daughter, naming her Hope after her mothers own name, Elspeth.
No matter what mistakes you make at the start of life, you can always set them right.
