1945

Nobody said anything, but when they lifted him clear of my body and began to towel him down, I knew what they were thinking. I stared at him. My beautiful son. The nurse placed him in my arms. He’s like coffee, isn’t he, love. I had no idea then that his father would never see him. Later, after I’d got the telegram, after the war was over, the lady with the blue coat came to visit. I could see her looking at me and thinking, poor disillusioned cow. You’ll be better off, love, with somebody else looking after him. Trust me. I know what I’m on about. I mean, how are you going to cope? You won’t know what to do now, will you. Let’s be sensible. You’re going to have to start a new life on your own. And so we were sensible, my son and I. My son who hadn’t asked me to turn him over to the lady with the blue coat and maroon scarf.