Home Fires and Spitfires

by Daisy Styles

  Ada slowly repeated the name. ‘Mary Vale Health and Beauty Products, I like it,’ she declared. ‘It has a lovely ring to it.’

  39. February

  Ada was desperately missing Jamie, whom she was lucky enough to still get letters from, though in recent weeks their tone had changed. His former letters had been chatty and informative, but his latest missives were hurried, and she instinctively sensed he was holding things back from her. Was he trying to protect her from the gory details of his work in the casualty clearing stations on the Front Line? Baffled and frustrated, she wished he would be more straight with her.

  ‘For goodness’ sake! I’m not squeamish – I’m a nurse. I can take it.’

  The more she thought about it, the more Ada realized that Jamie was, in fact, just trying to protect her. The wartime principle of keeping up civilians’ morale would be uppermost in his mind; there was enough fear and uncertainty circulating in the country without demoralizing the spirits of vulnerable women and children.

  One morning, when Ada was at her lowest ebb, Dora didn’t report in for duty.

  ‘She’s as reliable as clockwork,’ Sister Ann puzzled.

  ‘She must be ill,’ Ada insisted.

  ‘We can’t get in touch; she’s not on the phone,’ Matron remembered.

  ‘Maybe Mr Saddleworth will phone us from his works?’ Ada suggested.

  After receiving no phone call all day, and after Dora failed to appear for work the next day, Sister Ann and Ada asked the Mary Vale gardener if he would give them a lift in his old van to the nearby village where Dora lived. Mr Saddleworth’s grim expression when he opened the door confirmed the visitors’ worst fears.

  ‘Won’t you come in?’ he said.

  After ushering them into the kitchen, where a fire burnt in the grate, Mr Saddleworth offered his guests a cup of tea, which they politely declined.

  ‘We’ve come to see Dora – is there something wrong?’ Sister Ann said quietly.

  Slumping into an armchair, Mr Saddleworth said, ‘It’s our Jack – we’ve had terrible news, the worst news.’

  Ada’s hand flew to her mouth to suppress a startled cry.

  Sister Ann dropped to her knees so that she could lay a comforting arm around Mr Saddleworth, who looked hollowed out with grief. ‘I’m so, so sorry,’ she murmured gently.

  ‘What happened?’ Ada asked softly.

  ‘His mine sweeper was torpedoed; the entire crew went down with it,’ the poor man murmured, as if he still couldn’t quite take it in. ‘We had a letter from Jack’s commanding officer.’ He gave a sigh that seemed to come from his soul. ‘Both our lads gone now, together, up there in heaven,’ he sobbed, as tears rolled unchecked down his haggard face.

  Sister Ann and Ada exchanged a tense look.

  ‘How’s Dora?’ Sister Ann enquired.

  Rubbing a hand through the grey strands of his wispy hair, Mr Saddleworth shook his head. ‘Terrible – she’s kept to her room since the news came through, not eaten a thing, hardly spoken …’ His voice wandered off.

  ‘May we see her?’ Sister Ann murmured.

  ‘Aye, front bedroom, top of the stairs.’

  Leaving Mr Saddleworth blankly gazing at the crackling fire, the two women crept upstairs, and, opening the door, they slipped into the bedroom, lit only by a flickering light on the bedside table, beside which stood a small bottle of pills.

  ‘Dora, dearest,’ Ada whispered softly.

  When Dora didn’t stir, Sister Ann checked the label on the bottle of pills. ‘Sleeping tablets,’ she told Ada.

  Looking at their friend with her eyes closed and her face racked with grief made them both feel utterly wretched.

  ‘She might not survive this,’ Ada said as she started to cry. ‘She always said that if she lost Jack, she would have nothing left to live for.’

  Taking Ada by the arm, Sister Ann steered her out of the room and down the stairs.

  ‘We’ll leave you in peace, Mr Saddleworth,’ she told Dora’s wretched husband.

  ‘Peace,’ he said the word blankly. ‘Without our lads, Dora and I will never know peace again.’

  Mary Dale was bereft without Dora. The babies desperately missed her, and the staff were devastated.

  ‘We must stay hopeful,’ Sister Ann insisted. ‘We must keep Dora and her son, Jack, constantly in our prayers, we must never give up hope.’

  Behind Zelda’s back Ada had a chat with Frank about giving Zelda driving lessons.

  ‘I know you’re grateful to her,’ she started.

  ‘I am that,’ he assured her.

  ‘She’s keen to learn to drive; it would help with transporting her herbs and flowers, and maybe she’ll continue to sell her veg on Kendal market. It’s such a waste, the van standing there empty.’

  ‘Not a problem, Sister, it’ll be a pleasure.’

  ‘She might be a bit taken aback,’ Ada warned. ‘She thought you might be too busy.’

  ‘I am busy, but I’d like to help the lass; she’s been proper good to me in the past,’ Frank answered with his usual characteristic honesty.

  Zelda was flabbergasted when Frank strode into her shed and suggested they went for a spin.

  ‘Sister Ada thought it was about time you learnt to drive the Bedford van,’ he announced.

  ‘She did?’ Zelda gasped.

  ‘She thought you might be too shy to ask me yourself,’ he grinned.

  Blushing to the roots of her red hair, Zelda was tongue-tied. ‘Just wait till I see Ada,’ she thought to herself.

  ‘I’m between lambing shifts right now, if you’re free?’ Frank suggested.

  ‘Now?’ flustered Zelda gasped.

  ‘If you want?’ he answered calmly.

  ‘Can you wait while I see to Constanza?’ she asked.

  Frank nodded. ‘I’ll take the van for a spin down the lane, get her warmed up for you. Take your time.’

  Zelda quickly fed and changed Constanza, then, after rocking her off to sleep in her little canvas cot, she hurried to get her coat and scarf. With butterflies fluttering in her tummy, she ran outside, where Frank was waiting for her.

  ‘In you get,’ he smiled, holding the car door wide open.

  Settling herself in the driver’s seat, Zelda gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles went white.

  ‘Can your feet reach the pedals?’ Frank asked.

  Zelda wriggled her small feet. ‘No, not quite.’

  ‘Hold on, I’ll push your seat a bit further forwards – is that better?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered, as she felt the brake pedal underneath her foot.

  ‘Right, then,’ Frank grinned. ‘Let’s get started.’

  Frank had grown up driving a tractor, and while he was in active service in northern Europe, he had been driving either Army trucks or tanks. But he had never actually taught anybody to drive. He knew full well that driving teachers had been redeployed since the start of the war; petrol was too precious to waste, so driving tests had been suspended until peace returned. However, people were still driving, and still needed to learn to drive if the country were to continue to function and, more to the point, if they could get their hands on any petrol.

  There was little traffic on the valley roads; apart from farm wagons transporting livestock, the lanes were virtually empty. Surprisingly the Bedford van was running well, and Zelda soon relaxed behind the wheel. With solid-as-a-rock Frank at her side, directing and guiding her, Zelda began to enjoy herself. After she had driven the van back to Mary Vale, Frank suggested that they went out for a short drive every day.

  ‘Can you really manage that, Frank?’ breathless Zelda asked.

  Looking into her flushed, sweet face, Frank would have agreed to anything just so long as it meant he could spend time with her.

  ‘Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,’ he said gruffly, but the smile in his eyes belied his tone.

  ‘Thank you, Frank,’ Zelda replied, and, before she could stop herself, she
leant over to peck him on the cheek that her salves had healed so well. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  Zelda’s driving lessons took them all over the beautiful Cartmel Peninsula, and, though the weather was cold, with a biting wind blowing off the churning Irish Sea, Zelda loved their outings. When she had the confidence to look around while driving, she was able to see signs of spring breaking through everywhere. Catkins dangled from hazel and silver birch trees, daffodils in all shades from creamy white to golden yellow blazed in the hedgerows, along with brilliant blue crocuses and wild anemones.

  They usually stopped for a break in the countryside, to stretch their legs and drink the strong tea that Frank always brought along in his Thermos flask. During these brief moments Zelda’s eyes would rake the surrounding fields and woods for signs of wild herbs shooting into life.

  ‘You’re supposed to be concentrating on the Highway Code, young lady,’ Frank teased. ‘Not conjuring up new potions.’

  ‘I’m so excited,’ Zelda confessed. ‘My mind is full of plans for the future, I fall asleep reading my Herbal every night – there are so many remedies I want to try.’

  Frank gazed at her with a fond smile on his face. ‘If your new products are anything like as successful as the ointment you made for me, you’ll be a rich woman in no time,’ he predicted.

  Zelda gazed at his left cheek, where healthy skin now grew. ‘It gives me such pleasure when I think that my salve helped to heal you.’

  Frank appreciatively rubbed his hand over the fresh new skin. ‘I use a bit every day,’ he informed Zelda. ‘In fact, that reminds me, I’ll be needing a new pot soon.’

  ‘I can’t keep up with you and your demands, Frank Arkwright,’ she teased.

  Stubbing out his cigarette, Frank drained his cup.

  ‘Right, lass, back to work,’ he announced, as he reached out his hand to help Zelda back into the car.

  Keeping hold of Frank’s warm hand, which looked enormous in her own delicate white hand, Zelda gazed up at him.

  ‘Thank you for doing this for me,’ she said with genuine gratitude.

  ‘Being with you is always a pleasure, Zelda,’ Frank answered with a shy smile.

  One afternoon, as Zelda was feeding Constanza in the nursery, Ada came rushing to find her.

  ‘A letter from Diana,’ she announced excitedly. ‘Shall I read it out?’

  Zelda gave an eager nod. ‘Yes, please.’

  Dearest Friends,

  I must apologize for not writing sooner but life has been hectic since we got back to the cottage in Shelford. Mercifully the farmer had the Aga going full blast, so the place was snug and warm for our arrival. There are two connecting bedrooms upstairs: Harry and I have the double room, while the boys have the little room, which just about accommodates their two cots. I can’t tell you how sweet they look when they’re tucked up at night and in the morning; we wake up to the sound of them giggling together. It is such a joy to see them growing up together.

  I never imagined that Harry would make such a wonderful father; you should see him proudly pushing the boys, still sharing one big pram, around the village. They both adore him and make such a fuss when he arrives home from Duxford, where, thank God, he’s stationed for the time being. It’s an enormous relief having Harry so close by. I lived in terror that he would be transferred to flying planes again, but for the moment he’s here with us, which makes the four of us very happy.

  I miss you all so much and long to hear your news. I hope that Zelda’s garden continues to flourish, and you’re not rushed off your feet, dearest Ada? Please do give my love to Sister Mary Paul, Sister Theresa and Sister Ann too.

  Lots of love,

  Diana, Harry, George and Teddy xxx

  ‘What happy news,’ Zelda enthused. ‘A new family and a lovely new home.’

  Ada cautiously approached the subject that had been troubling her since Zelda had announced her plans to move to the chemist’s shop in Kendal.

  ‘Have you set a date for your move?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m hoping to speak to Mr Marsden about dates this week,’ Zelda replied.

  ‘And does Frank know about your plans?’ Ada asked as casually as she could.

  Zelda blushed as she switched breasts so Constanza could carry on feeding.

  ‘Actually, I haven’t even told Frank I’m moving,’ she confessed.

  Seeing Ada’s surprised expression, she quickly added, ‘It’s just that not long ago, Frank said he would look out for a cottage for me and Constanza, something here in the valley. I was very grateful to him for even thinking about it, but he hasn’t mentioned it since. To be honest I don’t think I could even afford anything he found. It’s a bit of an awkward situation,’ she admitted.

  ‘It would be nice if Frank heard the news from you first, dear,’ Ada urged. Seeing Zelda on the verge of tears, she added, ‘Out with it, what’s really troubling you?’

  ‘Oh, Ada!’ Zelda cried. ‘My country has done him so much harm – he doesn’t want to be saddled with helping me when I must be such a reminder of all that he has suffered. I just need to make my own plans and leave the poor man in peace,’ she finally blurted out.

  In a serious quandary Ada wondered what was the right thing to do. For only recently Frank had nervously taken Ada into his confidence.

  ‘There’s a house come empty just by Cartmel Forest,’ he had told her. ‘It’s a bit dilapidated, but between us, me and Dad could do it up for Zelda and the little ’un.’

  ‘But how’s she going to afford it?’ she had enquired.

  ‘The farmer who owns the place has gone to live with his daughter in Kendal. He’s prepared to rent it out for a low price so long as the tenant accepts a long lease on the property.’

  Ada smiled to herself. She knew how big-hearted Frank was and how he would always want to help Zelda, but she also sensed that he wanted to keep Zelda close. It had been obvious to her for months that the man was falling in love with the lovely young woman. Interrupting her wandering thoughts, Frank said, ‘Do you think it’s a good idea, Sister?’

  ‘I think it’s a lovely idea, Frank.’

  Shuffling awkwardly, he muttered, ‘Can you keep it to yourself till the time’s right to tell Zelda? I wouldn’t want the lass seeing the house until it’s proper smart and up to scratch for a fine lady such as her.’

  ‘I promise, Frank,’ Ada assured him.

  Ada knew she absolutely could not break her promise to the earnest young man, but if Zelda didn’t inform Frank of her situation soon, she could finish up breaking Frank’s very fragile heart.

  40. On Top of the World

  Gracie’s return home was a joyous occasion. Her parents welcomed her back with open arms, and the neighbours were discreet enough not to ask too many awkward questions. Though happy to be back with her family, Gracie suddenly saw things in a different light. The home she had grown up in seemed small and cramped; she had forgotten all about the draughty outdoor privy in the backyard, and after spending months at Mary Vale the lack of gardens and fresh sea-air was quite a shock. Of course, Gracie soon slipped back into familiar old ways, but she nevertheless realized what a huge impact Mary Vale had had on her, in more ways than the obvious one.

  Back at the shipyard, Gracie was welcomed with hugs and kisses from her female workmates. The men (so many fewer than there had been when she was last there) wolf-whistled or winked at Gracie as she passed by, but Gracie had eyes only for the majestic cranes that dominated the Barrow skyline. When would she get the chance to operate one, she wondered impatiently.

  The call-up from the management for women with experience of driving came faster than Gracie could ever have imagined. When she was being interviewed, Gracie told the bosses of her driving experience, while carefully sidestepping her stay in a Mother and Baby Home.

  ‘I’ve been driving for well over a year now,’ she informed them. ‘In fact, when I lived previously in Grange, I did a market run every weekend and ran a delivery service d
uring the week.’

  Seeing the two bosses exchanging looks, Gracie talked up her passion and ability in the hope of impressing them.

  ‘I’m quite capable,’ she insisted. ‘And it’s something I very much want to do,’ she added boldly. ‘It’s vital war work and essential to the running of the shipyard.’

  The two men nodded in approval.

  ‘You’re right there, lass,’ the senior man said. ‘With able-bodied crane drivers whipped off to drive tanks, we’ve been pushed to find anybody remotely qualified.’

  ‘Who’d a tho’wt we’d see the days when lasses were doing a fella’s job,’ the other man moaned.

  Though Gracie thought his remark inappropriate in these times of crisis, she kept her mouth firmly shut. She was on the verge of getting what she wanted; now was not the time to rock the boat.

  ‘There’ll be a training period before you’re left in sole charge of any of the giant cranes,’ the older man told her.

  ‘I would expect that, sir,’ Gracie answered earnestly. ‘Driving a shipyard crane is serious work.’

  The older man smiled; she could see that he liked her.

  ‘You’re right there, pet – be back first thing in the morning to start your training.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Gracie replied, trying to control the bubbling excitement that threatened to overtake her as she virtually skipped out of the manager’s office.

  After her intense training Gracie was passed as fit to operate a mobile crane with a twenty-five-foot jib. Her heart skipped several beats as she stood underneath it, staring up with a slack jaw and wide eyes.

  ‘My dreams have come true,’ she murmured to Maggie, who, though immensely proud of her friend, was left unimpressed by the sight of the towering crane.

  Battling back tears, Gracie gulped, ‘I’m the first woman in the yard to drive a crane.’

  Maggie grinned as she gave her old pal a dig in the ribs. ‘Isn’t that what you always wanted?’

  ‘YES!’ deliriously happy Gracie cried, as she hugged her astonished friend.