The Girls in Blue

by Fenella J Miller

  The city was quieter now shops and businesses were closed. Belatedly it occurred to her that the café might also be closed as it was there to serve the people who worked in London. She was right – the door was locked.

  ‘Pity, but it won’t do either of us any harm to go without tonight. Maybe we can get a meal and drink of some sort at the hotel,’ Charlotte said.

  This proved to be the case and although double the price they would have paid at the café, just this once it was worth it.

  As Jane scraped the last of the gravy from her plate she smiled. ‘I still can’t quite believe that I’m here. It doesn’t seem real yet.’

  ‘We don’t know much about each other. Shall I start with my potted biography?’

  Jane nodded as she was unwilling to reveal the real reason she was here.

  ‘My father was killed in France in the last war. My mother never recovered and my two older brothers and I had to look after each other. They are both officers in the army but I didn’t want to join the ATS – think we’ll be more useful helping the RAF. What about you?’

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘I must have been the only person in the country praying for war to start. It gave me the opportunity to escape.’ She paused not sure if she could continue but for some reason she trusted Charlotte to keep her secret. ‘My father is a brutal man. I think one day he might actually have killed me.’ She had revealed more than she’d ever thought but would never tell anyone the full truth.

  ‘How absolutely dreadful. You did the right thing, Jane. You’ll be safe now and can forget about him. We can be chums. The officer that I spoke to said they particularly want girls with a good education. With any luck we’ll be posted together.’

  ‘I met a nice girl called Nancy. I don’t think I told you about her, did I?’

  *

  The following morning, they reported for their medical. She joined a queue of girls waiting to be ushered into the room. They seemed to be in and out quickly so it couldn’t be a very thorough examination.

  There were screens behind which she had to remove her clothes. Jane was going to have to join the line wearing only her brassiere and knickers.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Jane. I don’t suppose anyone will notice.’ Charlotte spoke softly from behind her.

  ‘I hope you’re right.’ There was no time to continue the conversation as she was called through. The doctor barely looked at her. He listened to her chest, took a pulse and then she was asked to lower her knickers.

  ‘Quickly, I haven’t got all day,’ he snapped.

  She was scarlet from head to toe but managed to do as he said. ‘Fine, you’ve passed.’

  She’d never dressed so fast in her life and dashed outside to lean panting against the wall whilst she waited for Charlotte. She’d hoped to see Nancy amongst the crowd but either she’d come earlier or hadn’t arrived yet.

  ‘Golly, that was fun. I told you he wouldn’t even notice your bruises and scars. First time any man has seen my nether regions.’

  Jane giggled. ‘What on earth was that all about? What could they possibly expect to find in our knickers?’

  ‘Don’t know, and not going to ask. I bet those two from the East End you told me about would be able to tell us. It’s a pity they weren’t here as I’d like to meet Nancy.’

  ‘We’ll get two shillings and sixpence a day, plus our food, clothing, accommodation and medical treatment for nothing. Sounds like a good arrangement, don’t you think?’

  ‘The recruiting officer mentioned Hendon to me, but I said I didn’t want to be a secretary; I wanted to be a radio or wireless operator. I learnt the Morse code when I was a Girl Guide,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘The woman suggested I was suitable for special duties but didn’t specify what she meant. All we have to do now is wait until we get the letter to tell us to report.’

  3

  October 1939

  Spending time in London despite the inconvenience of the blackout was most enjoyable and Jane got to know and like Charlotte. She had been there for a month when she came up with a suggestion that she wasn’t sure her friend would agree to.

  ‘I want to go and see Nancy and Ruby, the two girls I told you about. They live in Poplar – I kept their address. They were so kind to me when I arrived and I don’t want to start my new life with bad feeling between us.’

  ‘I should think it highly unlikely that you’ll ever see either of them again. However, I’ve never been to the East End so it will be an experience for both of us.’

  ‘It’s a Saturday so hopefully they won’t be at work. I seem to remember that Nancy’s a seamstress. I think Ruby’s a barmaid.’

  *

  They caught the underground to Liverpool Street and mistakenly thought they could walk the remainder of the distance. On enquiring at the ticket office, they were told it was too far and they should catch another underground train and get off at Mile End. From there they had to walk down the Burdett Road until they reached East India Dock Road. After that they would have to find their way to Cottage Street, which was one of the many narrow streets that ran between East India Dock Road and Poplar High Street.

  On emerging into Mile End they were staggered at the difference between this part of London and the one in which they were temporarily living. It was louder, livelier and far more interesting. Jane exchanged a happy smile with Charlotte.

  ‘It’s like stepping back in time. This could be a scene from one of Charles Dickens’ books – street vendors, rag-and-bone men with their horses and carts, and everywhere you look there’s something that catches the eye.’

  ‘We’re attracting rather a lot of attention. I think we should have dressed down – we look rather too smart for this area. I’m not sure this is a good idea. We don’t even know if we’ll find them and if we do, if they’ll want to speak to us.’

  ‘We’ve come this far, Charlotte, and it’s an adventure. We don’t have much money on us and you left your expensive jewellery and wristwatch in the hotel safe. Even if somebody did try to pick our pockets, they wouldn’t get a great deal.’

  Eventually they found the street they were looking for. It was narrow, strings of washing stretched across from the upstairs windows, children were playing hopscotch and football in the road. The houses were jammed together, but every doorstep was spotless and the windows shone. A group of housewives in their wraparound aprons, their hair hidden by headscarves tied like turbans, turned to look at them curiously.

  ‘What you two doing down ’ere? You looking for someone, lovey?’ The nearest woman spoke without removing a cigarette from her lips.

  ‘Actually, we were hoping to find Nancy or Ruby. I’m afraid we don’t know their second names. I have their address here – but there don’t seem to be any numbers on your doors.’

  ‘Cor blimey, you must be the posh bird what they told us about. Fancy you coming all this way to find them. Nancy Evans lives across the street, right opposite ’ere, with her parents. I don’t reckon Nancy’s in – she’s probably down the chippy fetching dinner.’

  ‘Thank you. Do you think Mrs Evans will mind if we visit now?’

  ‘No, she’ll be tickled pink.’

  As they were crossing the road the door to Nancy’s house opened and an older woman the image of her daughter beckoned them over.

  ‘I saw you talking to Ada. My Nancy won’t be a tick. Come along in; it’s a bit of a squeeze but you’re welcome.’

  Jane wasn’t sure if she should remove her shoes as the linoleum inside the door was polished to a dangerous shine. She leaned down to slip them off but Mrs Evans stopped her.

  ‘No, you’re all right. Leave them shoes on, lovey. I ain’t worried about a few marks on me lino.’

  They were ushered into the back room, which was already occupied. Mr Evans, a burly man with a bald head and missing front tooth, didn’t get up from his comfortable seat in front of the fire. He gestured with his cigarette to the only empty chairs on the f
ar side of the scrubbed wooden table that took up half the space.

  ‘Sit yerselves down. Our Nancy won’t be long. She’s told us she’d met up with a nice girl, but we ain’t heard about there being two of you.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Evans, we’re sorry to intrude at a mealtime,’ Jane said as she edged past two silent youths who were so alike they must be twins. ‘This is Charlotte. She signed on the same day as Nancy, Ruby and I did.’

  Mrs Evans chimed in. ‘Ruby ain’t going now. She’s got herself a job in a factory making good money and she can stop at home.’

  ‘I’m so glad that Nancy’s still going to join. We got on so well when we met last month.’

  ‘Always pleased to see a friend of our Nancy, ’specially someone like you. She ain’t heard nothing from them WAAF lot. Don’t see why it takes so bleedin’ long to sort things out,’ Mr Evans said as he lit another cigarette from the end of the one he was smoking before stubbing that out in an overflowing ashtray.

  ‘Language, Stan, not in front of the ladies.’

  He grinned, unrepentant. ‘I reckon they’ll ’ear far worse once they join up so might as well get used to it now. Won’t be such a shock then, will it?’

  ‘Bertie, Joe, move your arses, don’t sit there like a couple of puddings,’ Mrs Evans said to her sons. They ignored her and continued to play a silent card game. ‘Them two ain’t so clever as my Nancy, but they’re good boys and already working down the docks with their Pa.’

  Jane had been surprised that the menfolk were home on a Saturday as ships had to be unloaded every day of the week.

  Mr Evans answered as if he’d read her mind. ‘On the late shift today – we ain’t starting work until after dinner.’

  So far Charlotte hadn’t spoken and Jane was worried she’d made a mistake bringing her there. Perhaps she was like that man and thought working people were somehow inferior to her.

  Then her friend surprised her by talking to the boys about the card game they were playing. ‘I used to play that when I was your age. I know another one that’s a bit more exciting – would you like me to show you?’

  They nodded but neither of them looked up. Soon Charlotte, Bertie and Joe were engrossed in a different game and after a few minutes both boys were more animated. She’d underestimated her friend.

  Nancy rushed in with a large newspaper parcel under her arm. ‘I never expected you to come and see me. Ada told me you was here. I’m so glad you’ve come, Jane – I wouldn’t have gone off like that but Ruby insisted.’

  The fish and chips were distributed – eaten from the paper and were even more delicious with the addition of vinegar and salt. There was ample for everyone but when Jane offered to contribute towards the cost she was shouted down.

  ‘I reckon we’ve got to be going, lads. It doesn’t do to be late as that bastard Frank’s foreman today.’

  Nancy and her mother deftly rolled up the newspaper. It wasn’t put in the rubbish but in a cardboard box under the sink, presumably to be used for lighting the fire.

  She scrambled to her feet, as did Charlotte. ‘Thank you for allowing us to share your lunch. That was very kind of you, Mr Evans.’

  ‘My pleasure – not often we get visitors like what you are. You take care of my Nancy, both of you; she ain’t as worldly as you. Not like that Ruby, any road.’

  Mrs Evans handed her sons their thick jackets, mufflers and caps whilst they laced up their heavy work boots. The three of them trooped out and in the entire time they’d been there neither of the boys had spoken or looked at either Charlotte or her directly.

  ‘I’ll make us all a nice pot of tea. You’ll need to get off before the blackout; don’t do to be wandering around this area in the dark.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Evans, we intend to do that. It doesn’t get dark until seven o’clock so we’ve plenty of time.’

  She was pleased that Charlotte and Nancy seemed to be getting on well despite the difference in their backgrounds.

  ‘I bin looking into things, seeing what’s what in the WAAF. I don’t reckon I’ll get offered what you two will be. I’m going to ask to go into catering or equipment – don’t need to ’ave much book learning to do that.’

  ‘With any luck we’ll get our papers at the same time, as we handed in our applications so close together. I don’t know what sort of training we get, but hopefully we’ll be together initially at least,’ Jane said.

  ‘Remember that article in the News Chronicle we saw the other day, Jane? It said that the first WAAF arrivals didn’t even have uniforms. All they were given was a blue cardigan to go over whatever they already had.’

  ‘Goodness! We’re both relying on them supplying everything we need in the way of clothing and so on. It’s been almost two months since war was declared so let’s hope that’s long enough for them to get organised.’

  Mrs Evans, who had finished her chores, joined them at the table. ‘Do you think you girls will ’ave to do square-bashing and all that?’

  ‘I hope so,’ Charlotte said with a smile. ‘I’m actually looking forward to learning how to march, to salute properly and all that sort of thing.’

  ‘I ain’t no good at dancing – I’ve got two left feet. I reckon I’ll be ’opeless at keeping in time.’

  Jane quickly reassured her. ‘It’s much easier than dancing. It’s just walking up and down in time and following the instructions of the person in charge. I’m sure you’ll be able to do it.’

  ‘I expect you two will be made up into officers before long. You talk proper, just like them blokes on the wireless, not like my Nancy who’s a bit common like.’

  ‘I don’t want to be commissioned; I want to stay in the ranks. My brothers are officers and they are both obnoxious – my father was even worse,’ Charlotte said firmly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They bark orders and expect to be obeyed. I’d rather follow them, than give them. What about you, Jane?’

  ‘It’s not something I’ve even thought about. I just want to fit in, do my job and not get into any trouble.’

  Mrs Evans was having none of it. ‘It ain’t about what you want, ducks, you’ll be told what to do and have to follow orders like what everyone else does. Better for girls like my Nancy to have someone like you bossing her around and not some stuck-up bitch what looks down her nose at anyone what don’t talk proper.’

  ‘That was a very persuasive argument, Mrs Evans, and I will now reconsider my decision. Mind you, I might be so hopeless at whatever trade I go into that I’m not considered for promotion,’ Charlotte said. Jane was still determined not to do anything that got her noticed even if it meant promotion.

  They left soon afterwards and she found herself unable to respond to Charlotte’s remarks as they walked briskly back to Mile End. Jane had been dismayed by Mrs Evans’ vehemence and her language. She supposed she must get used to hearing such things if she was going to survive the WAAF.

  Her stomach turned over when she remembered the one and only time she’d used inappropriate words. She’d been about seven or eight and had heard two workmen talking. Innocently she’d asked her mother what a silly sod was. That man had overheard and before she could explain she was face down across his knee being soundly spanked.

  From that day on she’d been careful not to say anything that would offend him. However hard she tried, no more than a few weeks would go past before she was punished again. As she grew older the discipline became more severe and the last few beatings had been administered with a cane. She feared she would have the scars across her back and buttocks for the rest of her life, a constant reminder of the abuse she’d received.

  She doubted that she would ever trust a man and had no intention of ever getting married and putting herself under the control of one. Everyone who knew that man, apart from the vicar and his wife, believed what they saw. They thought that man was a kind and charming person – appearances were always deceiving.

  ‘Jane, what’s wrong? Y
ou’ve not said a word since we left Nancy’s house.’

  ‘I’m sorry, unpleasant memories. Now, you have my full attention. What were you saying?’

  *

  They were eating breakfast in the hotel the following week when a waiter came across and said that Jane was wanted on the telephone. She dropped her napkin and hurried after him.

  It was Nancy on the other end of the line with the news that she’d been told to report to the Air Ministry the following day. ‘I was ’oping you’d got a letter too.’

  ‘Just a minute, I’ll ask at the desk.’ She turned to the concierge and without her having to ask he handed over two buff envelopes. ‘We’ve got ours as well. See you tomorrow.’

  She replaced the receiver and dashed back to join Charlotte. ‘The letters have arrived. That was Nancy saying she’d got hers.’

  They tore open the envelopes and saw they were to report at the Air Ministry at nine o’clock, 0900 hours, the following day.

  ‘Our last day of freedom. What shall we do?’ Charlotte asked.

  ‘Before we go out I need to write to my mother. She won’t have time to reply, but I promised to let her know as soon as I had any news. I wonder where we’re going to be posted and if we’ll even be allowed to write and receive letters.’

  ‘I can’t see there being a problem with that. Remember, we might only be at our first posting, the one where we’ll be trained et cetera, for two or three weeks – no point in sending that address wherever it’s going to be. Might as well wait, Jane, until you get a permanent posting after you’ve been allocated a trade.’

  ‘Where is Kingsway, Charlotte? Do you have the foggiest?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure it’s somewhere along the Embankment. We’ve settled our bill so shall we be extravagant and use a taxi just this once?’

  She checked her purse. ‘I’ve got thirty shillings and a few coppers. What about you?’

  ‘Almost as much. It won’t be more than two and six including the tip.’