Robbins returned a few minutes later with the tea tray. The tension had a chance to defuse as he arranged a table between them and filled their cups. Eve looked as uncomfortable as she had the first time Audrey invited her to tea upstairs in the schoolroom. Eve didn’t reach for her cup or for the tea biscuits.
“Tell me what else I can do to help,” Audrey said after Robbins left. “What will you do after your baby is born?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I can talk to the vicar about arranging an adoption. It would be the best solution, for you and the child.”
“I have a few more months before I need to decide. For now, I would be grateful for a job and a place to stay. I’m willing to clean, do laundry, and I can cook, of course. I was Tildy’s assistant before the war, remember? And if you need a scullery maid . . .”
“Of course you may stay. I’ll arrange some work for you. And we have plenty of rooms. I’ve been putting them back in order now that the Americans are gone. I’ll have Mrs. Smith fix one for you.”
“I would prefer my old room on the third floor. To be honest, it feels the most like home. And I can make up my own bed.”
“Of course. I know you can. I just thought . . . well, you’re my friend, and I would rather think of you as my guest than—”
“I need to work, Audrey. At the very least to pay my room and board. And I need to save money for the future.” She rested her hand on her middle again.
Audrey sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Remember during the worst of the war, when we couldn’t imagine the future? It didn’t seem like it would ever come.”
“And this isn’t what either of us imagined, is it? You off to live in America and me with a fatherless baby?”
“No. It isn’t.” Audrey lifted her cup and took a sip of tea. It rattled against the saucer as she set it down again. She wanted to ask who the father was, but Eve would tell her in her own time.
“So when do you leave for America?” Eve asked, breaking the awkward silence.
“I don’t know. I hoped our baby would be born over there, but if the paperwork takes much longer it’s going to be difficult to travel in my condition. There are so many other war brides waiting along with me, more than sixty thousand, they say, in Britain alone.”
“Those American GIs were busy while they were here.” Eve said it with a smirk. Audrey didn’t see any humor in her comment.
“I was encouraged when the first boatload of British brides landed in New York earlier this month. More than 450 women and another hundred or so children. Hopefully, I’ll take my place in the queue soon.”
“Starting a brand-new life.”
Audrey studied Eve in her warworn dress and was uncomfortably aware that there would be no new start for Eve. Audrey found it frightening to give birth so far from her husband and couldn’t imagine doing it with no husband at all. Surely Eve would offer the child for adoption. Audrey cleared her throat and searched for something to say. “Robert was surprised to hear that our baby was coming so soon, but he’s happy. He sent me some brochures with plans for the house he’s going to build for us, but I can’t picture it yet. Would you like to see them? I have them right here.” She passed the glossy pamphlets with drawings of the little bungalow’s exterior and floor plans to Eve. The illustration showed a happy American family inhabiting the two-bedroom house: a smiling father, an aproned mother, two adoring children, and a grinning dog. Audrey couldn’t interpret the expression on Eve’s face as she looked them over.
“Not quite Wellingford Hall, is it,” she finally said. “Where will your servants sleep?”
Audrey’s face grew warm. Before she could reply, Robbins entered and refilled her teacup. Eve hadn’t touched hers. “Would you like anything else, Miss Audrey?” he asked.
“No thank you.” She waited until he glided from the room again, then sighed. “You know me better than anyone else, Eve, so you must know how frightening all these changes are for me. I’ve never liked change, and now there will be so many of them—leaving home, starting such a different life.”
“At least you won’t have to do it alone.”
“Yes, that’s true. I couldn’t face any of it if I didn’t love Robert as much as I do. But I worry that his parents won’t accept me. They wanted him to marry Linda. Her parents were lifelong friends of theirs.”
“You’re an earl’s granddaughter. Your father is richer than King George. It’s not like he’s bringing home a common servant girl like me.”
“Robert says they don’t have a class system like ours in America. There is no aristocracy.”
“Don’t believe it. Someone always wants to be on the top of the heap—and that means someone else has to be on the bottom.”
“I’m going to miss Wellingford Hall. And you, Eve. We swore we would always stay together, remember? Like sisters.”
“We might have been sisters,” Eve said softly, “if Alfie had survived.” She refolded the house plans and handed them back to Audrey. “It looks like your new home isn’t going to be as luxurious as what you’re used to.”
“Robert says we’ll live a very ordinary life in America. I’ll need to learn how to cook and run a home.”
“I thought Robert’s family was rich.”
“They are. But we want to live on our own, apart from their expectations. You already know I can’t cook. Maybe you could teach me how.”
“I suppose that’s one way we can stay occupied while we wait.” Eve managed a smile as she patted her middle again.
“And I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby, do you?”
“Not much. But if we can learn how to change tires on a lorry, we should be able to change nappies.” For the first time since she arrived, Eve smiled.
“You haven’t touched your tea or the biscuits,” Audrey said, gesturing to the tray. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m famished. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“Then let me ring for Robbins. I’ll ask Tildy to fix you a proper lunch.”
“I have a better idea,” Eve said, pulling herself to her feet. “Come down to the kitchen with me and I’ll give you your first cooking lesson.”
“We don’t need to start right away. You just arrived.”
“I came here to work, not to sip tea with you. Now, do I have a job or not?”
“Of course you do, but—”
“The bride ships are setting sail, Audrey. You’d better learn how to cook for that husband of yours and to take care of that house he’s building. There’s no time to waste.”
The midwife rode her bicycle out to Wellingford Hall on a warm June evening to deliver Eve’s baby. Audrey begged Eve to move to a more comfortable room, but she insisted on giving birth in her simple servant’s room on the third floor. She asked Audrey to stay beside her through it all. “I’ll show you how to do it,” she said with a smile, “just like I showed you how to drive a car and how to cook a chicken dinner for your husband.”