one child by the hand and the other on her hip. She had met Doreen Beale only once before, at Christmas when she delivered gifts to the Beale’s two-up-two-down terraced home in Whitechapel. Maisie had suspected then that this small, sturdy countrywoman did not quite fit into the close-knit neighborhood, as she came from Sussex and did not share the rough-and-tumble language or raucous humor of the people her Cockney husband had grown up with.
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind, Miss Dobbs, me coming here without sending word first, but I wonder if you could spare me a moment. I know Mr. Beale isn’t here. I watched him leave. I didn’t want him to know I’d come to see you.”
“Of course. Do come up to the office.” Maisie stood back to allow Doreen Beale to enter the building.
“Will the pram be all right, you know, left out here?”
“I’m sure it will, Mrs. Beale. I confess, I’ve never seen children in these parts, but I think it’s safe. Come in; let’s go up to the office.” Maisie smiled at the toddler, who hid his head in the folds of his mother’s coat, and then at the baby, who copied her brother, turning her head into the coat’s upper sleeve, which, Maisie noticed, was already damp with dribble.
She pulled out a chair for Billy’s wife, and then took some plain white paper from her desk, which she put on the floor with the jam jar of colored pencils.
“There you are, you can draw me a train!” Maisie smiled again at the little boy with an elflike cap of white- blond hair, who looked up at his mother.
“Go on, Bobby, make a nice train.”
With one child occupied and the other beginning to fall asleep in her mother’s arms, Maisie smiled at Doreen Beale. “Now then, Mrs. Beale, what can I do for you? Is something wrong with Billy?”
The woman’s eyes reddened, which accentuated her fair skin. Maisie noticed that the light blue veins at her temples had become swollen as she fought back tears.
“Oh, Mrs. Beale, whatever is the matter? What is it?”
Maisie reached out to the woman, then came around the desk to place an arm around her shoulder. The baby began to whimper, and the little boy stopped drawing and seemed frozen on the floor with his thumb in his mouth. Tears began to well in his eyes, as he mirrored his mother’s countenance.
Doreen Beale composed herself, and turned to her son with a smile.
“Come on, young Bobby, draw a nice picture for your daddy.” She stood up from her chair, and with her head indicated for Maisie to walk to the window with her. “Little ears—” she whispered. “It’s Billy, Miss Dobbs. I thought you might be able to tell me what’s wrong with him.”
“Whatever I can do—” Maisie began, but was cut off by Doreen Beale, who clearly needed to shed her burden.
“You see, my Billy used to be your solid sort. No tempers, no ups and downs. Even just after the war when we first started walking out together—we were both young then, of course—but even after all he went through, he was always so, you know, straight as a die. Like I said, no moods or tempers.” She moved slightly to reposition the child on her hip. “Well, just lately, in the last few months, all that’s changed. Now, I know his leg has been giving him trouble again—it never went away, really—and that got him down, you know. It wears you out, that sort of nagging pain.”
Maisie nodded, but did not speak. Doreen Beale took a handkerchief from the pocket of her plain brown coat and rubbed a dewdrop of moisture that had accumulated at the end of her nose. She sniffed and rubbed again.
“One minute he’s all over the place, doing jobs around the house, playing with the children, you know. He’s like a bumblebee, off to work, home again, going over to our allotment to get some vegetables— hardly makes time even to eat. Then it seems that just as quickly he comes down like a lead balloon, and even his face looks gray. And I know it’s his leg that’s at the bottom of it all. And the—you know— the memories, I suppose.” Doreen Beale sniffed and blew her nose again. “Oh, excuse me, Miss Dobbs, for all this. My mother always said that whatever you do, you should never take on so in front of your children.”
Maisie was quiet for a moment, then spoke. “I have to say, Mrs. Beale, that I’ve noticed changes in Billy’s behavior, too. I’ve also been worried, so I’m glad you felt able to speak to me about it. You must be very concerned.”
Doreen Beale nodded. “Billy’s a lovely dad to the children, and a good provider, always has been. And he’s a diamond to me, you know, a real diamond. Not like some of them I see. But, I just don’t know what wrong with him. And the terrible thing is, that I’m afraid to ask again.”
“What happened when you asked before?”
“Oh, he says, ‘I’m awright, love,’ and then goes off and does something. Then, of course, he used to stay after work for a half a pint with his friends of a Friday night. Like I said, he’s not like some of them— just one half-pint a week, my Billy. But now he’s home late two or three nights a week, sometimes full of beans, and sometimes with a face as long as a week. He was out Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, not back home until long after seven.”
Maisie tried not to show alarm. “He was late Tuesday
“Yes, Miss, though I don’t blame you, even though you’d asked him to work late.”
Maisie did not reveal her surprise. She waited for a moment before asking, “Mrs. Beale, would you like me to speak to Billy?”
“Oh, Miss Dobbs, I don’t know. I mean, yes, I would—but there again, I feel like such a yellow belly. You know, my mother always said that you should never speak of your marriage outside the four walls and two people who are in the marriage, that it wasn’t right.”
Maisie thought for a moment, knowing how difficult it must have been for Doreen Beale to come to the office. “I believe your mother’s advice was well meant, but sometimes speaking to someone else, someone trusted, helps. At the very least your load is lightened knowing that I have noticed the same behavior. I’ll have a word with Billy. And don’t worry, I won’t let on that we’ve spoken.”
Doreen Beale dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, and nodded. “I’d best be getting on, Miss Dobbs. I’ve got a wedding dress to finish this week.”
