Christmas on Coronation Street

by Maggie Sullivan

  ‘Here, come and look at this,’ a fireman called to his mate. Elsie went over to where he was standing so she could see too. There were dozens of tins of what had once been spam. Most of them had exploded, but a pile of jars of fish paste had somehow remained intact.

  ‘Bloody hoarders,’ the second man said, and went back to his digging.

  As she went on, Elsie saw a papered wall still standing, complete with mantelpiece and photo frame. A door was attached to the wall and was swinging on its hinges, though the rest of the house had disappeared. The fireman yelled, ‘Be careful, it’s not safe!’ and she gave it a wide berth. Small children, unaware of the hidden heartbreak and dangers, were scurrying around looking for souvenirs.

  ‘You don’t want to be hanging about here,’ the fireman called to her, ‘it’s far too dangerous. You never know what might be lurking.’

  ‘How else will I find my family?’ Elsie shouted back.

  The fireman came up to her, his face lined and weary. ‘This your house then?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t rightly tell. I can’t see owt familiar, at any rate.’

  He took his helmet off and scratched his head. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t think anyone could have survived this lot. And the same goes for that shelter there, an’ all.’

  Elsie nodded. She was so numb her mouth couldn’t form words to answer him. As tears trickled silently down her cheeks, she continued to make her way through the debris, hoping to find something or someone she recognized. Her hopes rose when she spotted Mrs James, their old neighbour, picking up bricks and putting them down again.

  ‘Oh, Elsie love. Whatever have you come home to?’ And she clasped Elsie tightly, tears pouring from her eyes.

  Elsie clung to her for some time. ‘What’s happened to them all? Where is everyone?’ she sobbed.

  ‘I can’t say for sure,’ Mrs James said. ‘The whole street was hit right bad. They never had a chance. Strange thing was, they never usually went to the shelter, you know. Your mam, bless her, wasn’t always wanting to go. But they did that night, ’cos we was warned things were looking bad.’

  ‘Were you in the shelter with them? I thought—’

  ‘Oh no. I don’t think anyone survived from there. I ran down to my daughter’s, in the next the street. Thank God, there were no direct hits there. But from what I’ve heard, your house was just … blown away. And the shelter too. I’m so sorry, love. I don’t know what to say.’

  Elsie didn’t know either. Eventually she took a deep breath and said, ‘And Fay? Where is she?’ She could hardly recognize her own voice it croaked so badly.

  ‘Fay? Wasn’t she with you?’

  There was a sudden shout and Elsie looked to where several firemen were gathering together, peering into a small crater, their faces grey and drawn. Something fluttered in her chest and she tried to steady her breathing. Then she picked her way carefully over the hot bricks and fractured concrete, trying to avoid the shards of glass. Some of the volunteers working on the site followed her too.

  ‘Stand back, please,’ the firemen’s leader warned the gathering crowd as people began to surge forward. ‘Here, love,’ the original fireman called to Elsie. ‘Looks like there were several people in this hole here. Happen it’s who you’re looking for.’

  Elsie thought she was going to be sick. But she forced herself to peer down where the fireman was pointing. Her eyes began to swim and she could barely see. But she did manage to see the torn brown felt of a teddy bear’s foot.

  Chapter 37

  Elsie couldn’t believe she had lost her entire family in one night. At first she felt completely numb. When she got back to number 11 and found the Barlows had gone home, she was glad to be alone. She was grateful they had taken Linda with them and she wasn’t in a hurry to fetch her back.

  ‘My mam and dad may not have been up to much, but they were my family,’ she cried out loud, ‘and all those innocent little ones – it’s not fair, what did they ever do to hurt anyone?’ She squeezed her eyes tight shut as an image suddenly came to her and there was a stabbing feeling in her chest. ‘My beautiful little Jack,’ she cried, ‘my lovely boy.’ Her only brother. She was overwhelmed by a vision of the blond-haired child clinging to her skirts. She could actually feel the warmth of his embrace. She could see him trailing his battered brown teddy along wherever he went, and it was then that she sat down at the table and sobbed her heart out.

  She didn’t know when thoughts of Phyllis crept in, the sister who had gone from them such a long time ago. The angry child who Arnold had discovered hiding underneath the arches at Exchange Station. Elsie felt a sudden ray of hope that at least one member of her family might have survived and, without thinking about where she was going, set off into town to try to find her.

  The scene in town was not any better than in Weatherfield, for the entire city centre had been damaged or destroyed. All major routes into the city were blocked and the only way to approach it was on foot. A network of hoses criss-crossed the once busy streets while a smoke cloud hovered over the debris. Buildings that hadn’t taken a direct hit had been destroyed by fire from incendiary bombs and water was still spurting in all directions over the smouldering remains.

  Emergency workers were out in force and had been joined in their grim search efforts by soldiers. Displaced residents wandered in despair, calling out the names of their missing loved ones. Such was the scene of carnage laid out before her eyes, Elsie couldn’t begin to take it all in.

  A soldier in a metal helmet shouted to her: ‘Get back! It’s not safe, love. You shouldn’t be here.’

  Elsie stared at him blankly, as though not understanding his words, then carried on wandering among the wreckage of the damaged buildings. ‘Watch out for hidden craters,’ he warned, ‘and there still might be unexploded bombs in there.’ But Elsie merely nodded and moved on. Everywhere she looked, huge piles of bricks, fallen masonry and shattered glass were all that remained of the magnificent Victorian structures that had once been the pride of Manchester.

  Whole sections of the centre had been cordoned off, but Elsie managed to find her way through to the twin stations of Victoria and Exchange, only to find the station buildings and platforms had been completely destroyed. The arches where Phyllis had last been seen were still standing though, and she could see people were moving about. She made her way down and, remembering what Arnold had said about Phyllis having changed her name to Mattie, asked everyone she saw if they had seen her. But no one had, until Elsie mentioned her sister’s flame-red hair. ‘Like mine?’ she said eagerly when two young boys, who looked like brothers, thought they might have known her.

  ‘Yes,’ the younger looking one agreed, ‘she used to live with us down here, but I haven’t seen her in a bit.’

  Elsie looked round anxiously. ‘When did you last see her? Please try to remember. It’s important. Was it the night of the air raid?’

  The older boy shrugged. His eyes were unfocused and had a haunted look. ‘There’s been loads of bombs,’ he said vaguely.

  But the younger one was more specific. ‘I remember when we last saw her and the rest of the girls. It was bloody freezing that night, right brass monkeys, and we all went up to the waiting room on the platform to try to get some sleep. But there wasn’t enough room for everyone, so we let the girls stay and us lads came back down here.’

  Elsie’s heart began to pound with hope. Was it possible that Phyllis had survived? But when she went to look at where the boy had pointed she felt crushed and all hope died. There was no station there now. No platform. No big waiting room. The station roof had been reduced to a bare skeleton of tangled girders. A mangled advertising hoarding for Bryant and May matches lay abandoned on the twisted track. The station where they had been sheltering had taken a direct hit. No one could possibly have lived through that. Her last hope had gone.

  She turned away disconsolately and peered over the bridge. Down by the fresh fish and cheese markets, the Falst
aff Hotel was nothing but an empty shell, yet by some miracle the centuries-old Shambles pub, with its original Tudor timbers, had survived the blast. Such is the way of life, Elsie thought miserably.

  By the time she reached home, Elsie was inconsolable. When there was a knock at the door, she didn’t answer it. But whoever it was persisted, so she went into the front room and peeked through the curtains. Seeing Ena Sharples standing on the step only strengthened her determination not to open the door, but Ena, eagle-eyed as ever, had spotted the twitching of the curtain and began rapping on the window.

  Elsie had no choice but to open the front door.

  Before she could say that she wanted to be left alone, Ena had her foot over the doorstep, wedging open the door.

  ‘I’m really sorry to hear what’s happened to your family,’ the older woman said. ‘It’s a terrible day for the Grimshaws, that’s for sure. But I need you to come down to the Mission – right now if you will.’

  ‘What the bloody hell for?’ Elsie snapped. ‘I’m not suddenly going to get religion after this.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it. As I’ve told you before, you’re beyond saving. But don’t let that stop you coming with me now. Here, put this on and let’s be having you.’ She picked up Elsie’s coat from the chair and handed it to her. Elsie put it on, still in a daze. Grumbling all the while, she went with Ena down to the Mission.

  Ena didn’t go into the Mission Hall or the basement but entered through the side door to the vestry, where she lived, with Elsie following grudgingly in her footsteps. As she entered the room, Elsie gasped at the sight before her and had to grab at a chair for support. A curtain hid the bed, but there lying on the couch, covered by a grey blanket, was her favourite little sister.

  ‘Fay?’ Elsie moved to touch her, for she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. ‘How did you get … I thought you were … Weren’t you with the others when the bomb …?’

  Elsie sank to her knees beside the couch as Fay sat up, then she buried her face in Fay’s shoulder as the two embraced. Neither spoke for several minutes.

  ‘I was on my way back. I was running for cover, hoping to get into someone’s Anderson shelter in their garden. But before I made it to safety I caught some shrapnel in my leg.’

  Elsie gasped, squeezing Fay’s hand as she continued: ‘They managed to drag me into the shelter, and then after the all clear they took me to the hospital. That’s where I’ve been ever since. I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know how to get word to you.’

  ‘I don’t care about that now. I’m just glad you’re all right.’ Elsie sobbed and kissed her again through her tears.

  ‘Mrs Sharples told me what happened to the rest of the family.’ Fay’s eyes began to stream and her voice was choked with tears.

  Elsie hugged her and they clung together. ‘I can’t bear it, Fay, let’s not talk about it now. Let’s just go home. Can you walk?’ Elsie asked.

  ‘A little. But I’ll need help.’

  ‘No rush,’ said Elsie. ‘We can take it slowly.’

  Fay threw off the blanket and Elsie helped her to her feet. She noticed the heavy strapping on her leg.

  ‘Here, lean on me,’ Elsie said.

  ‘Are you sure you can manage?’ Ena asked. ‘You know you can stop here as long as you need,’ she added gruffly.

  Fay had made it to the door. ‘I’ll be all right, thanks, with Elsie’s help. And thanks for rescuing me,’ Fay called over her shoulder. ‘Mrs Sharples found me hobbling along the road,’ she explained to Elsie. ‘And then, when you weren’t home and no one knew where you were, she took me in. I was so worried.’

  ‘You were worried!’ Elsie gave a laugh.

  ‘Yes. Where were you?’

  Elsie frowned, knowing she wouldn’t be able to tell Fay everything, but she said, ‘I’ll tell you all about it when we get home.’

  As they left, Elsie turned to Ena. Ena Sharples, the closest thing she had to a sworn enemy but who always seemed to be there when comfort and a steady hand were required. Elsie couldn’t find the words that she needed at that moment, perhaps there weren’t any. Instead she reached out a hand to Ena and touched her arm. Ena covered Elsie’s hand with her own. She didn’t speak, but nodded, and briefly the two women were united, drawn together by the tragic events that had unfolded around them.

  Chapter 38

  Ida looked after Linda for the next couple of days while Elsie and Fay shared their memories and their grief. But by then Elsie couldn’t wait to have her daughter back.

  ‘Enough,’ she said, lifting Linda high into the air. ‘That’s quite enough misery for one lifetime. Now we all need to be thinking about the future, don’t you agree?’

  To her delight, Linda gurgled in response.

  ‘At least we’ve got each other,’ Fay said, hugging her sister and her niece at the same time. ‘We can’t bring the others back, but we can live our lives for those that have had theirs snatched away. And we’re going to beat that bloody Hitler, you mark my words.’

  Everyone in Coronation Street seemed to feel the same way. News of the tragedy that had struck the Grimshaws had spread, and Elsie was overwhelmed by people’s reactions. She’d lost count of how many stopped to speak to her offering their sympathy and any help they could give. It had been a desperate time for many of the residents. Most families had suffered in some way as a result of what they referred to as the ‘Manchester Blitz’. Though it was a sad event that had brought them together, people were rallying to help less fortunate neighbours, taking time to pop in for a chat or to check if they needed anything.

  Frank Barlow was home for the foreseeable future as the wound in his leg was not responding to treatment, but Ida was happy to continue looking after Linda. This left Elsie free to work. As soon as the gas, water and electricity services were restored, the factory reopened. Their war work – assembling parts for rifles – was now more important than ever.

  Fay’s shrapnel wound was healing well and she began to wonder what she should do about going back to work. Talbot and Jones’ offices had been hit and whole sections of the building had collapsed. What little remained had been badly scarred by incendiary bombs and had been deemed unsafe.

  So it was that Fay was sitting in the seldom-used front parlour one morning after Elsie had gone to work, considering her options. Suddenly, she thought she saw someone she recognized passing the window; moments later there was a knock at the door. She went as quickly as she could to open it.

  ‘I imagine you’re surprised to see me,’ the visitor said.

  ‘Oh Terry!’ It was such a surprise to see him, his serious face was in some way so welcome that Fay could not stop herself throwing her arms around him and giving him a hug. Awkwardly at first, but then more tenderly, Terry returned it. Fay felt a brief sense of safety and security in his arms, before they both pulled away. Terry had a flush on his cheek and Fay tugged at her hair self-conciously.

  ‘Would you like to come in?’ said Fay, and she stood aside to allow him to enter.

  He took off his hat as she showed him into the back room where they could sit in front of the fire while she explained about her bandaged leg.

  ‘I’m very sorry about your family,’ Terry said balancing his hat across his lap, ‘that really is terrible. Please accept my sincere condolences.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Fay said, ‘but I’m sure that wasn’t the reason you came.’

  ‘No, I came to see if you’d heard from Mr Talbot that he’s winding up the business,’ Terry said.

  ‘No, I haven’t, what’s happening?’

  ‘Mr Talbot has decided to close the office entirely and offer everyone references. I asked him for your address so I could come and tell you myself,’

  ‘Thank you, Terry. But I’m not sure what I’ll do now. Have you decided yet?’

  ‘You’re very well qualified – you shouldn’t have any difficulty finding a new position,’ Terry said.

  ‘But not in the centre of Manchester at th
is moment.’

  ‘No. Quite. I’m thinking of returning to Saddleworth to work.’

  ‘Oh.’ Fay felt her cheeks reddening and looked away.

  ‘I’ve been offered a good position not far from where my mother lives, so it makes sense for me to move back home permanently.’

  ‘Oh?’ Fay said again, surprised at the tight feeling in her stomach at this news.

  ‘The thing is …’ Terry fingered his hat nervously now. ‘I wondered if you might consider coming to Saddleworth to work alongside me, much as we did at Talbot and Jones.’

  ‘Work beside you?’ Fay, her thoughts and feelings in turmoil, wasn’t sure what he meant.

  ‘Yes, well, I had hoped we might over time be able to get to know each other better. Perhaps consider courting. But this damned war puts things in a different light.’

  Fay nodded. Her heart had begun to beat faster. She didn’t know what to make of his little speech. But he hadn’t finished.

  ‘So what I really wanted to ask you was … would you consider coming to live in Saddleworth … as my wife?’

  Fay sat silently for a moment, breathing hard as the meaning of his words sank in. There had been a time when she wouldn’t have even considered him; Terry had always been so cautious and methodical in his approach. But after the tragedy of recent events she looked at him with different eyes. They may not share the kind of love like in the films. But she could see in his face what he was proposing was a future filled with kindness and affection. He was offering her a new life, and that certainly seemed very attractive right now.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Fay began. ‘I’m flabbergasted, I mean …’

  ‘I apologize,’ he said quickly, misunderstanding her hesitation. ‘I’ve been too forward and I’m sorry.’ He stood up, hat in hand.