Home Fires and Spitfires

by Daisy Styles

  ‘I’m sure you were,’ Ada agreed. ‘You’re a clever woman, Diana.’

  ‘That’s sweet of you to say so,’ Diana said, grinning. ‘Before I met Harry I was very focused and professional, but he, dear man, turned me into a bag of emotions and desires. I loved him very, very much, Ada. It’s so unfair that we had so little time together.’

  Her son wriggling fretfully at her breast momentarily claimed Diana’s attention. When he had settled back down to feeding, Diana continued.

  ‘I am not giving Teddy up, Ada. He’s all I have of Harry.’

  Because their babies had been born on the same day, Diana and Marie instinctively sought each other out. They couldn’t have been more different: tall, elegant, clever Diana and chubby, chatterbox Marie, who loved to eat, gossip and smoke, preferably all at the same time. Diana was grateful to Marie for not asking too many personal questions; Marie on the other hand had no hesitation in telling Diana of her passionate romance with Canadian Air Force Corporal Cody Buchan.

  ‘His unit was posted over here at the start of the war,’ she said, as the two of them sat in the nursery feeding their babies. ‘I met him at the Palais de Danse in Bolton. Gorgeous fella,’ Marie sighed dreamily. ‘He was the tallest man in the room, broad-shouldered, handsome in his blue uniform. He was by far the best-looking.’

  George, who had drained his bottle in no time, wailed as he wriggled uncomfortably on his mother’s knee.

  ‘All right, all right,’ Marie soothed. ‘You wouldn’t have wind if you weren’t so greedy.’

  She confidently lifted him on to her shoulder and patted his back until he gave a loud burp.

  ‘George is the spit of Cody,’ Marie continued, lowering her son into the crook of her arm, where she rocked him to sleep. ‘The same big brown eyes and smooth dark skin. Cody was a great singer,’ she recalled with a laugh. ‘He’d sing anywhere – walking down the street, in the pub, up on’t moors – he never stopped.’

  Diana, who was thinking she would be rather embarrassed by Cody’s extrovert nature, asked, ‘How long did you know him?’

  ‘Best part of a year, all the time he was stationed in the North,’ Marie replied with a nostalgic sigh. ‘As soon as Cody found out I was pregnant, he said he’d marry me, but mi dad put a stop to all that. He said he was having no daughter of his marrying a foreigner.’ Marie gave a derisive snort. ‘When I told him that Canada is part of the British Empire and the Canadian Air Force are over here fighting on our side, he just laughed in my face. Cody even came to our house to ask for my hand in marriage, but mi dad kicked him out, said he was having nothing to do with a mixed-race marriage.’ Marie gently lowered sleeping George into his little white canvas cot. ‘By the time I arrived here at Mary Vale, Cody’s unit had been posted overseas. Not long after I got a letter from a friend in Cody’s unit who told me that Cody had died on active service.’

  Tears welled in Diana’s pale-blue eyes. ‘Seems like we both lost the man we loved,’ she murmured.

  ‘Bloody rotten war,’ Marie seethed. ‘Snatches your life away and leaves you with nothing but a breakfast of ashes.’ Gently rocking George’s cot, she continued bitterly, ‘I’d like to keep George, but mi dad wouldn’t even contemplate having him in the house. Only white fellas who work in the local mill and drink in the local pub are acceptable in his book, ignorant bloody fool that he is.’

  Feeling very sorry for Marie, who clearly loved her son, Diana asked a question she almost immediately regretted. ‘Could you manage to live on your own and keep your child?’

  ‘I wish!’ Marie exclaimed. ‘I’m not clever and educated like you, Diana. I left school the day I turned fourteen and I’ve been working in the spinning room at Johnson’s Mill ever since. I’ve no money, no savings, and nowhere to go but back to Bolton and the mill. God help me!’

  Wiping tears from her eyes, Marie gazed lovingly at her sleeping baby.

  ‘Anyway, what kind of a life would George have even if I could take him back home? I’d be out at work, and he would be brought up by my rotten family, who would resent him, just because of the colour of his skin. I want a much better life for my sweet, innocent little baby than that!’

  A few days later Marie arrived in the nursery sobbing her heart out.

  ‘What is it?’ Diana exclaimed. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I’ve agreed to George being adopted!’ she wailed. ‘Oh, God, how will I leave him here, all on his own?’

  Diana caught Marie by the arm. ‘Listen to me,’ she said firmly. ‘As long as I’m here, I promise I’ll look after George, I’ll write you weekly reports on how he’s progressing.’

  Marie smiled wanly. ‘That’s nice of you, Diana, but then what happens when you leave?’

  ‘To be honest I don’t think I’ll be leaving very soon,’ Diana replied frankly. ‘The man I love is dead, and right now Teddy and I both need looking after; I’ve already talked to Ada about staying on a bit longer.’

  ‘Lucky you,’ Marie sighed. Seeing Diana’s hopelessly sad expression, she quickly apologized. ‘Sorry, stupid me and my big mouth,’ she exclaimed. ‘I know you’re anything but lucky, losing your fiancé the way you have, but at least you’re not going to be given your marching orders when your baby’s six weeks old.’

  In an attempt to cheer her sad friend up, Diana said, ‘You know, Marie, times are changing. With all the men called up, things can’t go on the way they always have done. The government will soon be turning to us women to help them run the country. We could be quite a force in the nation.’

  The idea of change and empowerment brought a bright smile to Marie’s tear-stained face. ‘Aye, you’re right,’ she agreed. ‘Somebody’s got to drive the buses, build the bombs and work the land. I fancy us women have a big part to play in our country’s future!’

  In early December Ada, Matron and Diana had a consultation about Diana’s plans for the future.

  ‘I know I said I was champing at the bit to get back to the Ops Block,’ Diana started. ‘But I’m not any more,’ she said flatly. ‘I feel weak, depressed, aimless, heartbroken – and I desperately don’t want to be apart from Teddy. My emotions are all over the place. I don’t even know how I’ll feel tomorrow, never mind next month,’ she tearfully confessed.

  Seeing poor Diana struggling with her emotions, Ada gently said, ‘That’s perfectly natural in your puerperal condition, dear: many new mothers feel exactly the same.’

  ‘And now you have your son to think about too,’ Matron softly added.

  Ada gave a slow nod.

  ‘How I ever imagined I could give him away, I’ll never know,’ Diana blurted out. ‘Teddy is my lifeline: apart from my memories, he’s all I’ve got of Harry.’

  Matron nodded. ‘Zelda says the same thing: that the baby she carries gives her hope for the future.’

  Diana took a deep breath before she asked the question that had been on her mind for some time.

  ‘I was booked into the Home until after Christmas, but, as a result of Teddy being born earlier than expected, will I now have to leave before then?’

  Ada reached out to squeeze Diana’s hand. ‘Dearest, you must leave when you and Teddy are ready – nobody’s pushing you out,’ she assured her anxious patient. ‘We want you fully recuperated before you return to normal life.’

  ‘That’s a huge relief,’ Diana confessed. ‘It gives me some time to think about what I’ll do next and where we’ll go.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear it, Diana,’ Ada said, beaming. ‘None of us wants you to leave Mary Vale until you’re strong enough to do so.’

  Poor Marie was in pieces when her turn to leave the Home came around. Ada and Diana saw the weeping girl to the station. Almost hysterical with grief, she clung to Diana.

  ‘I thought I had longer with George,’ she wailed. ‘Mi bloody dad’s forcing me to go back home earlier so I can start back at the mill. Look after George for me,’ she implored. ‘Kiss him every night before he goes to sleep a
nd tell him how much his mam loved him.’

  Her anguished words reduced Diana to tears too, and, worried that the two women might both become hysterical, Ada was relieved to see the big cloud of black smoke issuing from the approaching steam train’s tall chimney. Slowly pulling the weeping girls apart, Ada led Marie along the platform, then helped her on to the train. Stumbling up the steps that she could barely see for the tears streaming down her face, Marie waved sadly out of the open window.

  ‘Keep an eye on my boy,’ she implored.

  ‘I will, I promise,’ Diana replied. ‘And I’ll write,’ she cried, as she waved goodbye and the train shunted slowly away from the platform. ‘I won’t forget you, Marie. I’ll look after George!’

  Waving until the train was swallowed up in a dark cloud of sea-mist and smoke, Ada and Diana retraced their steps along the platform. The sound of the rumbling train receded, to be replaced by the murmur of the outgoing tide and the raucous cry of sea-birds wheeling overhead.

  23. Frank Exchanges

  Though heavily pregnant, Zelda was filled with an amazing amount of energy and spent as many hours as she could in her garden shed, which was now almost like her second home. Though it was frosty and cold, Zelda, muffled up in a thick cardigan with a long, hand-knitted scarf wrapped around her neck and a woolly hat on top of her mass of thick red curls, was warm enough. Every morning, before she began work on her remedies, Zelda stoked up the little wood-burning stove that threw out a surprising amount of heat.

  Apart from brewing up another batch of salve for Frank (which Ada had told her he continued to use with some success), Zelda was on a mission to improve Diana’s herbal tonic. Teddy’s long, arduous birth had left Diana anaemic, and, combined with breast-feeding, her hungry son reduced her energy levels to virtually zero. Zelda hoped to produce a stronger herbal brew that would strengthen Diana’s blood and hopefully stimulate her appetite too. Zelda’s interest and curiosity in herbals had led her to buy even more old, dog-eared, leather-bound Herbals, which now sat in a neat row on one of the shelves over her workbench.

  On one particular chilly December morning, with the heavy grey sky threatening snow, Zelda heaped logs into the wood-burner and set to work on boiling up pungent herbs for Frank’s skin salve. Concentrating hard on her task, Zelda was completely unaware of the shed door swinging open; it was only when she felt a draught whipping around the back of her calves that she stopped and looked up to see if the door had been blown open by the wind. When she saw Frank Arkwright towering over her, his big bulky body almost blocking out the light that streamed in from the garden, Zelda almost fainted with terror. Clutching the bench for support, Zelda turned a deadly white. Thinking she would fall to the floor in a faint, Frank dashed forward to catch her before she hit the ground. Holding her firmly in his arms, he led her to the battered old armchair by the wood-burner and gently lowered her down.

  ‘Rest yourself,’ he said softly.

  Gazing into his face dominated by the large black patch over his left eye, Zelda couldn’t help but notice (even in the midst of her panic) that Ada had spoken the truth: the salve had indeed helped to heal and reduce the scar tissue on Frank’s face.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she finally managed to ask the intruder.

  ‘I was tending the sheep over yonder wall,’ Frank replied in his deep rolling Lancashire accent. ‘All of a sudden I smelt summat right powerfully sweet and strong like, I was curious as to where it were coming from, so I popped o’er wall to find out.’

  Zelda closed her eyes as she anticipated the worst. ‘Oh, God. He’s going to find out the truth about the salve.’

  ‘This might sound daft, but whatever it is you’re brewing up in here smells exactly the same as the ointment that Sister Ada gives me every week.’ He inhaled deeply and with obvious pleasure. ‘Lavender … and some herbs.’

  As he spoke, Frank turned around to stare at Zelda’s workbench, on which were ranged the row of little pots that she had been in the process of filling before Frank had walked in and interrupted her.

  Turning back to Zelda, who he seemed to have forgotten he had briefly met after she had collided with him in the hospital corridor some time ago, Frank said incredulously. ‘Them’s the very same pots as I get from Sister Ada.’

  Knowing that she was cornered, Zelda didn’t even try to lie. ‘It is the same stuff,’ she admitted. ‘I make it for you.’

  ‘YOU make it!’ he spluttered.

  Unable to respond, Zelda could only stare into Frank’s mystified face. ‘Why would you do that?’ he demanded.

  Beyond lying, Zelda shrugged. ‘Because I can, and I wanted to help you. I studied botany and the benefits of herbal remedies when I was at university in Munich –’ She stopped as she caught her breath. Why in God’s name had she mentioned Munich to this man who hated Germany?

  Frank took a step backwards. ‘So you’re the German lass Sister Ada told me about. The one whose husband was shot by the Nazis?’ he asked bluntly.

  Just hearing the words fall from his lips made Zelda’s eyes well up. ‘Yes, I am German, and, yes, my husband was killed by the Nazis,’ she said with as much dignity as she could muster. ‘I apologize for the cruelty my fellow countrymen have inflicted on you, sir,’ she added tremulously.

  The air around them seemed to spark with the intensity of their joint emotions. Mercifully Frank defused the atmosphere by picking up and reading one of the herbal remedy books he spotted lying on the bench. He seemed genuinely curious.

  ‘So … what is this brew that you make for me?’

  Feeling heavy and uncomfortable, Zelda supported her burgeoning tummy as she struggled to rise from the armchair and approach her workbench.

  ‘I use natural products,’ she started cautiously. ‘Herbs which I grew in the summer and dried for later use.’ She pointed at the numerous bunches hanging from the shed rafters. ‘Thyme, basil, dill, marjoram, oregano. I also pick herbs from the local woods and meadows.’ She pointed at the bunches of mint, horseradish, bay leaf and stinging nettle lying on the bench. ‘I follow remedies that have been tried and tested over centuries.’

  Frank continued with his questions. ‘But how do you mix all these herbs into a cream?’

  ‘Well,’ she smiled patiently, ‘I distil some in boiling water, then reduce them to a liquor; others I grind.’ She nodded towards the heavy mortar on the bench. ‘To extract their essential oils, it takes a lot of pounding,’ she explained. ‘Then I blend the two components together with a carrier ingredient like beeswax.’

  Frank shook his head as if he couldn’t believe that he was hearing correctly.

  ‘I consult with the chemist in his shop in Kendal if I can’t find the right herbs and spices,’ Zelda went on. ‘Fortunately, Mr Marsden has a well-stocked pharmacy, as he mixes tonics and cough syrups for some of his customers.’

  Picking up a blob of beeswax that was lying on the bench, Frank rolled it between his thumb and fingers. ‘Where do you find this stuff?’

  ‘The convent,’ Zelda told him, as she dipped her finger into one of the little pots, then gently rubbed the salve into her hands. ‘One of the Sisters keeps bees and kindly gives me surplus wax from her hives.’

  ‘To think, all this time you’ve been making ointment for me,’ he marvelled. ‘If I hadn’t got a whiff of it this morning I’d never have known.’

  ‘I didn’t want you to know,’ she confessed. ‘I asked Ada to keep it a secret between me and her.’

  Frank gave her a hard look. ‘If you trust the remedies you make, why would you want to keep it a secret?’

  Zelda blushed. ‘I am from the country you are at war with. I was sure you would distrust my motives.’

  Frank considered her words. ‘To be honest I might have done,’ he answered. ‘But now, after seeing what you do and how good your stuff is, I don’t. In fact, missis, I’d say I was in your debt, and I thank you for your troubles.’

  Turning on his heel, Frank headed towards
the door. ‘Good-day to you,’ he barked over his shoulder.

  Zelda gazed in astonishment at Frank, who walked out of the shed, scaled the old drystone wall and dropped completely out of sight.

  Covering her face with her hands, she gasped in astonishment. ‘Oh, my God!’

  Not bothering to put on any of her warm woollies, Zelda rushed across the frozen lawn into the hospital wing, where she tracked down Ada cleaning the delivery room.

  ‘You’ll never believe this!’ Zelda cried.

  Ada couldn’t help but laugh out loud when Zelda finished her breathless story.

  ‘Thanks heavens!’ she exclaimed. ‘I never liked lying to Frank.’

  Completely overcome, Zelda shook her head. ‘I never for a minute imagined he would be grateful to me,’ she exclaimed. ‘When he walked in and stood over me like a dark giant, I almost collapsed with fear. He actually had to support me,’ she confessed.

  ‘He can be quite the gentleman,’ Ada said diplomatically.

  ‘I’m glad you think so. I’ve just never seen that side to him before,’ Zelda reminded her.

  ‘Whatever Frank was ranting on about the day you overheard him wasn’t meant for your ears, Zelda,’ Ada said in Frank’s defence. ‘I’m quite sure he would never do something as cruel as that on purpose.’

  Zelda shrugged. ‘Well, it’s all out in the open now.’ Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as she recalled his words. ‘He actually thanked me for my salve.’

  ‘Of course he did,’ Ada cried. ‘You’ve thoroughly researched the product and gone to a lot of trouble to get it right – and it works!’ She burst out laughing, as she had a sudden amusing thought. ‘You know what, Zelda? You could bottle the stuff and make a small fortune.’

  Now it was Zelda’s turn to laugh out loud. ‘Don’t be silly, Ada! I do this work for you and your patients; nobody else would be interested.’