Unmarried mothers in the 70s: Alive and Dead by Elizabeth Ferrars

Alive and Dead by Elizabeth Ferrars

 published 1974

 

Martha - likes bright colours

This was a treat. Elizabeth Ferrars wrote a shed-load of books from the 1940s to the 1990s  - there’s quite a few of them on the blog, but still a lot to go. There are a number of different series, and although all are at least semi-traditional crime stories, she varied her pace, style and settings a lot. (Also the quality, in my view). This one resembles a Barbara Pym book rewritten by Celia Fremlin, or vice versa. So that can only be good.

We see everything through the eyes of Martha Crayle, a middle-aged woman who lives in a small town in the Midlands, and volunteers at a (fictional) organization called The National Guild for the Welfare of Unmarried Mothers. As she is about to leave one afternoon, a pregnant young woman turns up in need of help and, specifically, a place to stay. Martha takes her to her own home – she does this to help sometimes anyway, but this time there is no-one to consult so no formal arrangement.

Well, all crime readers know that this is not going to be simple, and that Amanda, the young woman, will have secrets. Stuff will happen. And it does, laid on fast and hard – BUT, we’re not talking (say) Stanley Ellin territory here. There are crimes and murders but it’s always got that Barbara Pym background, the domestic setting. All the action takes place over a very short period of time, a couple of days, and is divided between Martha’s house and the office. There is a hotel opposite the office which plays a huge part in the action, but I don’t think Martha ever even goes there. (I felt this story would make a terrific old-school stage play.)

Another unmarried woman, Sandra, turns up, and ends up in Martha’s house too. Someone is shot in the hotel. Someone breaks into the house. Both of the young women have boyfriends, one of them has parents, and everyone gets involved and comes to Martha’s house and goes away again, and comes back. She meanwhile is realizing two chops won’t do for these numbers, so is buying a chicken to roast. (The true Pym/Fremlin touch)

But what IS going on, are these people connected? Is pregnancy the key connection or not? Who is telling lies?

This was all most enjoyable – a proper story with some quiet humour. I hadn’t the faintest idea what was going on, and looked forward to finding out.  

Martha lives in a former boarding-house, and has a leftover lodger, Mr Syme, who also gets involved, and is an excellent character. The book is part of a series featuring policeman Andrew Ditteridge, who turns up relatively late on – but he is very much a minor actor compared with Martha.

She has grown-up sons and has a splendid phone conversation with one of them. He has seen a news report, mentioning his mother’s street:

‘I thought that might be our house, Mother,’ he said

‘I don’t see why you should think that,’ Martha said. ‘It seems to me an extraordinary conclusion to jump to.’

‘All the same, it is our house isn’t it?’

‘Well yes. But why you should think so…’

 

Martha is an endearing character – stubborn and good-hearted and not always right. She also reveals that there was once a surprising period of promiscuity in her life, but not as if it were a big deal.

There are fascinating 1970s details – Martha thinks there is very little stigma about being an unmarried mother, which rather took me aback as I remember the era well. Martha thinks that only very strict parents would mind, which again I take issue with: this was all swept away in the next ten years say, but back then the girls were ‘in trouble’ and it was a big deal, and the attitudes of people in the book actually reflect that rather than Martha’s view. ‘In trouble’ of course works very well in this story… but apart from the crime aspect, it is clear that there are pressures on girls, that others will try to persuade them to have an abortion or else to have a baby adopted, without enough care to find out what the potential mother really wants – their wishes were not considered much.

'are we pregnant?' - looking worried

The Welfare Guild is very well done: you can just imagine the quiet dusty office, waiting for the worried girls to climb the stairs. There is a tremendous organizational structure: Martha the volunteer receptionist, Olive the dogged, sweary secretary who does the work and takes the decisions (she would have a different job title these days), and charming Lady Furnas on the letterhead. She is off on a cruise for most of the action, but when she turns up has ‘a rather battered mink jacket which she seemed to consider appropriate to wear to the office.’ Well, it is November…

And of course everyone drinks hard throughout the action, certainly without any idea that the pregnant women shouldn’t.

The eventual explanation of all the trouble is very hard to follow.  ‘The gun. How did it get from hand to hand?’ – asks someone at the end, and I do believe I could reproduce the para ‘explaining’ this without actually spoilering, as it makes no sense whatsoever.

But that doesn’t affect in the slightest my verdict that this is an excellent book – a short sharp enjoyable farrago, with a very memorable main character in Martha.

Martha is 53, and likes bright colours, so I thought to give her the dress at the top rather than something more middle-aged. Young women in crimplene.  Both from Vivat Vintage

Quite the contrast: there is a Rex Stout book, Champagne for One, a very good one, which revolves round people trying to help unmarried mothers. And a sly look at rich women in charities in this Ursula Curtiss book, though to be fair the charity in the Ferrars book plainly does much-needed small-scale work, whatever else is going on.