Home Fires and Spitfires

by Daisy Styles

  To their surprise Ada and Sister Mary Paul came out of the house to wave them off. ‘Good luck!’ Ada called.

  ‘Drive carefully,’ Sister Mary Paul anxiously cautioned.

  It was a lovely summer day, with the sun beaming down on the soft, rolling fells that surrounded Grange-over-Sands. The narrow, winding roads were almost empty until they approached Kendal, where they saw other traders transporting their goods by van or cart to market. Looking pleased with himself, Farmer Arkwright wound down the passenger window and proudly waved to friends as they drove by.

  ‘They’ll think I’ve gone up in the world,’ he announced, as his startled friends did an astonished double-take at the sight of the farmer being chauffeur-driven into town.

  It was all hustle and bustle in the marketplace as the stalls were set up. Shy Zelda made sure she was partially hidden by a pile of spring greens, but bold Gracie, taking her cue from Farmer Arkwright, a veteran trader, was soon shouting out her wares. ‘Come and buy your lettuces – fresh this morning, three for a tanner!’

  Trade was brisk, and very soon their baskets of runner beans, pea pods, tomatoes, beetroot and salad onions had dwindled to barely nothing. Seeing the two girls sweating in the hot sun, Farmer Arkwright kindly said, ‘You lasses go and get a mug of tea and summat to eat – I’ll hold the fort till you get back.’

  Grateful for a break, Zelda and Gracie linked arms and wandered around the pretty little town that nestled in green fields surrounded by rolling fells. Having barely been out since her arrival at Mary Vale, Zelda was thrilled by the shops they passed.

  ‘So many nice things,’ she murmured excitedly. ‘I think I have enough money from market to buy wool to make warm coat for baby.’

  Gracie, who would far rather fix an engine than knit a baby’s layette, laughed. ‘Good idea – you can knit one for me too.’

  When they entered the haberdashery shop, the owner greeted the strangers somewhat coldly.

  ‘What can I do for you?’

  Seeing Zelda tense up, Gracie gave her most charming smile. ‘We’re looking for wool to knit some baby clothes.’

  The woman’s eyes flew to the girls’ tummies; then she noticed that, though Zelda’s wedding ring was very much in evidence, Gracie certainly wasn’t wearing one. With a disappearing frown on her forehead, she produced from a drawer several samples of soft baby wool.

  ‘Blue, yellow, pink and green,’ she said, as she strewed the wool on the countertop.

  Zelda’s face lit up in delight. ‘So beautiful!’ she exclaimed before she could stop herself. ‘But how do we know which colour is best for baby?’

  Gracie shrugged. ‘Neither of us know whether it’s a lad or a lass, so best go for green or yellow.’

  As Zelda muttered to herself trying to make a decision, the shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Is that a German accent I detect?’ she snapped.

  Blushing, Zelda instantly stepped back from the counter, but Gracie did no such thing, standing before the woman defiantly. ‘She’s a refugee from Germany.’

  ‘I’ll have no bloody German in my shop,’ the woman started to shout.

  ‘For God’s sake, woman, the bloody Nazis shot her husband,’ Gracie cried indignantly. ‘She’s done now’t to hurt you, or anybody else for that matter.’

  Flushed with fury the woman snatched up the skeins of wool. ‘Get out of my shop, the pair of you,’ she screamed. ‘Get out before I have you arrested!’

  Terrified, Zelda scuttled for the door, but furious, fearless Gracie held her ground. ‘You should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself, missis,’ she raged, before turning on her heel and joining trembling Zelda, who was waiting for her outside.

  ‘Miserable old cow!’ Gracie fumed.

  Almost in tears, Zelda clutched her arm. ‘I should not come into town.’

  Gracie sighed wearily. Just when everything had settled down at Mary Vale, Zelda was yet again experiencing hatred and xenophobia.

  ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ she apologized. ‘I never imagined this would happen here in Kendal.’

  Seeing all the colour drain from Zelda’s face, Gracie guiltily said, ‘You’re as white as a sheet – come on.’ She took her friend by the arm and walked her purposefully towards a café. ‘Let’s get you something to eat before the farmer comes looking for us.’

  A slice of fresh apple pie and a mug of tea soon brought the colour back to Zelda’s pale cheeks, but she barely opened her mouth in the café. She was clearly relieved when they got back to the market stall, where the farmer left them while he went off to the Crown for a pint. To Zelda’s amazement he returned with skeins of yellow wool in a paper bag.

  ‘Where … how you find this?’ she spluttered incredulously.

  Gracie gave a cheeky grin. ‘I asked Farmer Arkwright to pick it up for you. I thought the old bag wouldn’t refuse a local. It’s not like we’ll be going back to that old witch’s shop any time soon, and you’ve got some knitting to do, lady!’

  ‘She did not question you about me?’ Zelda enquired.

  ‘Nay!’ Arkwright boomed. ‘She doesn’t even know that I know you and, if she did and dared protest,’ he said with a steely glint in his eye, ‘she would have a lot of explaining to do.’

  By three o’clock they had packed up their empty baskets and crates and were heading back home with a few pennies in their pockets.

  ‘Same again next Saturday?’ Gracie asked.

  Farmer Arkwright nodded eagerly. ‘Aye, if you can spare the time, I’d be proper grateful. How about you, lass?’ he asked, as he turned to Zelda sitting in the back of the van.

  ‘I think, no, thank you, sir,’ she said in a quiet, embarrassed voice.

  ‘Eh, none of that!’ Arkwright cried good-naturedly. ‘I’ve got a son fighting the Nazis, but I don’t hold it against you.’ He grinned as he added, ‘Anyway, your tomatoes went down a bomb, belting good English tomatoes.’

  ‘Better not say English tomatoes grown by a German Fraulein,’ Zelda said with a rueful smile. ‘Peoples might choke to deaths!’

  12. An Invitation

  Gracie’s wish for Annie’s baby to be born soon came true. A few days after their visit to Kendal, Annie went into labour and Ada truly thought her ear drums would burst as a result of Annie’s high-pitched screams, which continued throughout the whole of her labour.

  ‘Thank God, Jamie’s on duty,’ she thought to herself as she tried her best to settle cursing and swearing Annie.

  ‘It bloody hurts, Sister!’ she wailed. ‘Do something, I can’t stand the pain.’

  Ada sighed – if Annie was like this now when her contractions were coming only every five minutes, what on earth would she be like when they were coming every single minute?

  ‘We’re in for some drama with this one,’ Dora muttered, as they prepared the delivery room for Annie, who was writhing on her hospital bed and threatening anybody and everybody in sight.

  Ada gave a grim smile. ‘I think my breathing and exercise classes went right over Annie’s head.’

  As another scream rent the air, Dora rolled her eyes. ‘She’s going to put the fear of God in all the other girls if she carries on like this.’

  Luckily Jamie arrived and took control of the hysterical woman. ‘Now, Annie, he said calmly, ‘you’re wasting your energy thrashing about like this; you must conserve your strength for later.’

  ‘How much bloody later?’ Annie growled angrily.

  ‘It’s your first baby, so it will take some time,’ Jamie answered truthfully. ‘If the pain becomes intolerable, I promise you that I’ll administer a painkiller.’

  ‘Can’t you do it now?’ she snapped impatiently.

  Jamie shook his head. ‘No, not yet – first I have to examine you and time your contractions.’

  When he joined Ada in the delivery room, Jamie said ominously, ‘I’ve just examined Annie; I have to tell you her baby’s a whopper.’

  Ada couldn’t help but grin. ‘She’s ce
rtainly been eating for two.’

  ‘I think we’re in for a long haul,’ Jamie said, smiling.

  As Jamie had predicted, Annie wore herself out well before she delivered; sweating and exhausted, she lay limp on the bed, wailing in between her ever increasing contractions.

  Jamie sighed. ‘Let’s see if a whiff of gas and air might relax her.’

  Fortunately, the drug quietened Annie, who moaned and groaned as she bore down and finally delivered a bouncing eight-pound baby boy just after tea-time.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Dora said, as she washed down the strapping little fellow, who had clearly inherited his mother’s lungs.

  ‘Never again, God help me, never again, I swear,’ Annie vowed, as she heartlessly surveyed her son. ‘You can take him away too.’

  Dora muttered sadly, ‘Poor little sod!’

  Ada removed the baby from his mother’s sight and, after bathing him clean and dressing him in one of Mary Vale’s pretty little hand-stitched linen night frocks, she tucked him up in his canvas cot in the nursery.

  ‘I’d say you’re better off without a mother like that, sweetheart,’ she soothed. ‘I’m sure Father Ben will soon find you a nice mummy and daddy to love you.’

  Tired and worn out, Jamie and Ada sat drinking tea and ravenously eating slices of fresh bread and butter in the ward kitchen.

  ‘Thank God that’s over,’ Jamie said, as he topped up their teacups.

  Ada giggled. ‘My ears are still ringing.’

  After taking a gulp of hot tea, Jamie said, ‘With all the drama I forget to mention that I have to swap my hours next week – I’m taking Saturday off.’

  ‘Can they spare you from the Barrow practice?’ Ada asked.

  Jamie gave a quiet groan as he guiltily shook his head. ‘To tell the truth, if I worked round the clock, I’d never put in enough hours there. The workload is huge.’

  Not wanting to add to his guilt, Ada sweetly said, ‘I’m sure we can manage.’

  ‘I’m taking the day off to drive over to Grasmere,’ Jamie told her excitedly. ‘The town holds a country show there every year and I’m keen to see it and do a bit of fell-walking too.’

  Ada looked curious. ‘I’ve never even heard of it.’

  ‘I’m told it’s been going for years. A bit of a quaint, old-fashioned event, with pole-vaulting, wrestling, a prize-cattle competition and the like. What I really fancy watching is the Guides Race – a two-mile run over the fells – that should be something.’

  ‘With so many called up I wonder how many men will actually be fell-racing?’ Ada asked in all innocence.

  Jamie looked distinctly uncomfortable. ‘It’ll probably be a lot of crippled old codgers,’ he muttered.

  Realizing she might have embarrassed the poor man, Ada blushed as she tried to cover up her mistake. ‘I should imagine the competitors are all local shepherds,’ she rushed on. ‘A couple of miles of running over boggy fells will be nothing to them – I don’t know how they do it,’ she laughed. ‘I love fell-walking but fell-running is in another league altogether.’

  Looking surprised, Jamie turned to her. ‘You’re a fell-walker?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Ada told him. ‘I walk the fells whenever I can, which isn’t as often as I’d like. Nothing beats a good long walk on the mountaintops.’

  Curious Jamie asked, ‘Do you walk on your own?’

  ‘I usually pick a popular walk so I’m not always on my own,’ she replied. ‘Though I do enjoy solitary walks, that’s if I don’t lose my bearings and get lost,’ she joked.

  Seeing the wistful smile on her face, Jamie impetuously suggested, ‘Why don’t you come with me? I’m sure you would enjoy a day out.’

  Ada’s face flushed. Was Jamie asking her out on a date or was he just being friendly? Seeing her flustered expression, Jamie quickly added, ‘That’s if you can get time off, of course.’

  Ada shrugged. ‘I’m owed loads of time off, believe me.’

  ‘Well, then?’ he smiled. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’ll have to check with Matron,’ she reminded him.

  Feeling slightly flushed by his sudden decision, Jamie avoided eye contact by busily pretending to pack his doctor’s bag.

  ‘If you get the go-ahead phone me at the Barrow practice and I’ll pick you up,’ he said, as if it were of no consequence to him whether she came with him or not.

  ‘I’ll let you know,’ she replied.

  Outside in the privacy of his car, Jamie slumped back in the driver’s seat and took several deep breaths.

  ‘How did I have the nerve to do that?’ he said out loud.

  Always having assumed that lovely Ada had a string of handsome boyfriends, Jamie hadn’t expected a positive response from her. He imagined that a woman as beautiful as Ada would have a dozen men lining up to take her out. Starting up his car, Jamie grinned to himself. If she agreed, he had something seriously marvellous to look forward to.

  After Jamie had driven away from Mary Vale, Ada went about her work with a preoccupied expression on her face. She liked Jamie enormously, and she couldn’t deny she found him very attractive – his long legs, broad shoulders and twinkling hazel eyes flecked with specks of gold certainly upped her heart rate – but she had to be careful – the last thing she wanted was to ruin what was turning out to be an excellent working relationship.

  Shameful memories from the past drifted into her mind, making her anxious and uneasy. Up until she was twenty, she’d had a number of short-term relationships, but she certainly hadn’t lost her heart to any man – not until she met Brian, a handsome young musician who toured the country playing with a swing band. Catching sight of him on stage at her local dancehall – swinging his hips as he played the trumpet with the glittering dancehall lights accentuating his good looks – had certainly made Ada’s pulse race, and he was quick to notice the tall, shapely girl in a clinging red crêpe dress dancing to the strains of ‘Little Brown Jug’. Dating Brian was an ideal arrangement as far as Ada was concerned: she could continue to concentrate on her nursing career while still enjoying the company of the handsome musician whenever he showed up in Manchester. Luckily for Ada she discovered from another member of the band, jealous of Brian’s success with the best-looking girl in the ballroom, that Brian was, in fact, engaged to be married. Ada had felt utterly humiliated. The experience of being duped and openly shamed left her cautious. She realized that, unlike most of her friends, she was in no rush to start courting; for the present she was content to throw all her energy into her work, which she loved with an increasing passion.

  When Ada approached Matron for permission to take time off, Sister Ann readily agreed.

  ‘Of course, dear, you’ve hardly taken a day off in weeks. It’ll be good for you to have a rest.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll be resting much, Sister,’ Ada laughed. ‘Dr Reid’s taking me to the Grasmere Show to watch the fell-runners.’

  Sister Ann, who had seen the look on Dr Reid’s face when Ada appeared in a room, sincerely hoped that the handsome young man might have other more romantic intentions than fell-running on his mind. Keeping her thoughts to herself, the nun smiled as she responded, ‘Have fun, dear, you deserve it.’

  Ada phoned Jamie at his GP’s practice in Barrow, and they arranged that he would pick her up outside the Home on Saturday morning. After he had put down the phone, Jamie punched the air.

  ‘YESS!’ he cried; then, fearful that people in the stuffy waiting room might have heard his jubilant cry, he took deep breaths in order to regain his composure. ‘Beautiful Ada,’ he murmured dreamily before he rang the bell for his next patient.

  On the other end of the line thoughtful Ada also put the phone down. ‘What do people normally wear for a country show?’ she thought. When she went fell-walking, she would always wear her old tweed trousers, a cotton blouse, a woolly jumper if it was cold, boots and a raincoat, but a ‘show’ sounded a bit posher than striding over the rain-soaked fells and wading throug
h becks and gullies. At a loss, she confided in Dora, who responded in her characteristic blunt manner, ‘From what I’ve seen in’t newspapers women seem to wear suits, with a fox fur dangling round their necks, and fellas wear overcoats and bowler ’ats!’

  Ada burst out laughing. ‘You must be joking! I don’t even possess a fox fur, and if Jamie turns up in a bowler hat, I’d have hysterics.’

  ‘You’d be wise to dress for the weather,’ Dora answered realistically. ‘If it’s pouring down, then it’s wellies and a mac; if it’s not, then summat prettier. Whatever, you always look right bonny, so thou’s now’t to fret about,’ she concluded with a cheeky wink.

  In the end, as Saturday dawned bright and sunny, Ada wore her favourite navy crêpe dress that was dotted with a pretty pattern of pink roses. She took her mac and a pair of stout shoes but set off up the drive in her court shoes. As she walked away from the Home, Ada looked over her shoulder to check that she had closed the front door, and, to her surprise, saw Sister Ann, Sister Mary Paul, Shirley and Dora all standing in the open doorway grinning as they waved her off.

  ‘Go inside!’ Ada begged. ‘I don’t want Dr Reid to see you watching me.’

  ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’ irrepressible Dora called after her.

  ‘God bless,’ Sister Ann added on a quieter note.

  ‘Be careful,’ worried Shirley murmured.

  ‘Don’t get lost,’ Sister Mary Paul fretted.

  Smiling to herself, Ada walked towards the waiting car. She was truly blessed with friends, but there were times when she wished they didn’t care about her quite so much.

  13. Grasmere

  Jamie smothered a gasp when he saw Ada approaching his car: he had never seen her with her hair down and was impressed by the length of her glorious Titian red-gold curls. He smiled when he saw the smart court shoes she was wearing.

  ‘I don’t think you’ll be doing much fell-running in those,’ he chuckled as he handed her into the car.

  Laying the picnic basket that she was carrying on the back seat, Ada quickly put him straight. ‘I’ve brought some walking shoes as well.’