by Nancy Revell
‘That’s my form room there.’ Charlotte pointed to the left of the red-brick building, which looked more like a huge detached house than a school. ‘The headmistress’s room is there on the left, just as you walk through the main entrance, and the deputy head’s is on the right.’
‘It looks like my school, only smaller,’ Marjorie said. ‘Rosie must have to work all hours to send you here,’ she said. She’d heard her own parents discussing her school fees the other day and how it was probably for the best that they’d only had the one child.
‘Yes,’ Charlotte said thoughtfully. ‘Now you mention it, I suppose she does.’
They were quiet for a moment.
‘Come on, then!’ Charlotte said, hooking her arm through her friend’s. ‘To Thompson’s!’
‘Yeah! To Thompson’s!’ Marjorie repeated.
The two girls looked at each other, and putting one foot forward and taking a deep breath, they began singing and marching in step:
Follow the yellow brick road,
Follow the yellow brick road,
Follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow the yellow brick road.
It was, of course, their favourite film.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Twenty minutes later, after following the cobbles rather than a yellow brick road, and revelling in a trip across the Wear on the ferry, Charlotte and Marjorie, like Dorothy and her three companions on their arrival at the Emerald City, found themselves looking up at a huge pair of metal gates.
They had timed it to perfection – it had just gone midday and the deafening clanging and clanking noise of the shipyard, as well as of all the other yards along the river, had just stopped.
‘Golly me!’ Marjorie said, her hand fidgeting with the inhaler in her coat pocket. ‘This place is incredible.’
They both looked into the expanse of the yard to see groups of men and the occasional woman sitting down on makeshift seats, chatting to their fellow workers as they got out their lunch boxes and started tucking into their sandwiches.
‘Aren’t they freezing?’ Marjorie asked, pulling her coat up to her chin. The temperature had dropped today and there was a distinct feel of frost in the air.
‘See those half-barrels everyone’s standing around?’ Charlotte pointed over to a group of caulkers smoking. The occasional lick of fire could be seen escaping from the top of what looked like an oversized metal can.
She nodded.
‘They’re like mini furnaces,’ Charlotte said.
‘Look, there’s Rosie!’ Marjorie said, as she spotted her friend’s older sister striding across the yard in dirty overalls and big leather boots. She was struck yet again by the image of Rosie sitting in Mrs Willoughby-Smith’s office in all her work gear.
‘Hi, you two,’ Rosie said, before looking up to Alfie, who smiled and gave her the nod.
Rosie looked at Charlotte and her best friend. She didn’t think it possible to get two more different girls. Chalk and cheese, but they got on like a house on fire. They’d kept her awake half the night with their chatter and giggles; she’d not had the heart to tell them to be quiet.
‘Now, Marjorie, are you sure your parents are all right about you visiting the yard?’ Rosie had never met Marjorie’s parents, but she had the impression that they were a little overprotective of their only daughter.
‘Oh, yes, Rosie,’ Marjorie said, her face the picture of innocence. ‘Mummy and Daddy think it’s a great idea.’ Marjorie wasn’t one for lying, but nothing was going to stop her coming there today and seeing everything that Charlotte had told her about.
‘Come on then,’ Rosie said. ‘Let’s go straight to the canteen. We’ll have a quick bite to eat, and afterwards I’ll show you around.’
Both girls almost skipped behind Rosie as she led the way.
As they reached the main doors, Rosie turned to her two charges.
‘If you need the loo, Marjorie, just ask Charlie, she knows where they are.’
‘Oh, there won’t be any need,’ Marjorie said, quick as a flash. ‘We made sure we went before we left.’
‘Well, you never know,’ Rosie said as she opened the door and walked into the cafeteria. ‘You might do after a nice big pot of tea. I know how much you two love your fresh brew, and I must say, you get a good cuppa here.’
Rosie looked around the canteen at the workers, most of them with a cup in one hand and a fag in the other.
Marjorie gave Charlotte a panicked look.
‘We might just stick with water,’ Charlotte said as casually as she could. ‘We must have drunk nearly a pot each before we came out.’
Rosie couldn’t help smiling as she turned and led the way to where she knew her squad were sitting.
When she reached their table, though, her smile dropped. The women all looked unusually serious.
Something was wrong.
‘Hannah?’ She walked round and sat on the empty chair next to her. She looked at Olly, who was sitting next to Hannah, holding her hand. He too looked incredibly sad.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
The pale face of their ‘little bird’ was streaked with tears.
‘Hannah’s just got some bad news,’ Olly said.
Rosie looked at Olly and then at the faces of the women.
‘Her mam and dad?’ she asked quietly.
‘They’re not dead,’ Hannah blurted out. ‘Well, we don’t think so.’
Rosie breathed a sigh of relief. They all knew the situation with the Jews was becoming dire, not so much through the newspapers or wireless, but from Hannah’s aunty Rina who was privy to a lot of information that was not yet public. She’d recently travelled down to London with the rabbi to a big protest meeting at the Royal Albert Hall. Hannah had relayed to them what her aunty had told her, and she’d shown them a copy of the News Chronicle, a Jewish newspaper she’d brought back with her. They had all sat and listened as she read them an article about this new atrocity being referred to as a ‘holocaust’. No one had said anything for fear of showing their own anger and upset, but they’d all quietly agreed to keep an eye on Hannah. Olly had also been instructed to tell them straight away if he thought there was anything wrong.
He had clearly done as they’d asked.
‘You know I told you my parents were in the Theresienstadt ghetto?’ Hannah said, forcing herself to keep her emotions at bay.
The women all nodded, their faces sombre.
‘And that although it was awful, their chances were better if they remained there?’ Hannah pulled a hanky from her sleeve and put it to her eyes. She started to cry silently.
‘Hannah’s just heard they’ve been moved,’ Olly said. ‘To a place called Auschwitz.’
The women didn’t know where the place called Auschwitz was, but guessed by Hannah’s distress and the desolate look on Olly’s face that this was one of the so-called ‘death camps’ she’d told them about.
‘I will be fine,’ Hannah said, wiping her eyes. ‘I must be strong. And brave. Můj mami a táta would want that.’
It was the first time they had all heard Hannah refer to her mother and father in her native tongue.
All of a sudden, Hannah looked up and saw Charlotte and Marjorie standing quietly behind Rosie.
‘Ach, můj Bože,’ she said. ‘Charlie, come here.’ She put out her two skinny arms to give Charlotte a hug. ‘Here you are with your friend and I’m being all morbid … I’m guessing that this is Marjorie.’
Hannah put her arms out once again.
Marjorie stepped forwards and the two embraced. It did not escape anyone’s notice that the two were as skinny as each other and not dissimilar in looks, only one had short blonde hair and the other thick, dark hair.
‘Come sit down!’ Hannah commanded.
Charlotte and Marjorie sat in the two remaining seats between Rosie and Angie. Charlotte grabbed the one nearest her sister, forcing Marjorie to sit next to Angie.
‘So, Marjorie,
’ Hannah said. ‘Charlie here has told me all about how you were first to escape “the castle”, paving the way for her return to her home town.’
Marjorie blushed.
‘Oh, I’m not so sure about that. I think Charlie rather made good her own escape.’
‘So, let me introduce you, Marjorie,’ Hannah said. ‘This is Polly, Martha, Dorothy and Angie. And Olly.’
The women all smiled, even though their minds were still in a place called Auschwitz.
‘So, what yer both been up to this morning?’ Angie looked at Charlotte and Marjorie.
‘Oh … Umm …’ Marjorie hesitated. They’d spent most of the morning chatting, drinking tea and eating toast, and running around the house. ‘We went for a walk.’
‘Where did you go?’ Polly asked, genuinely interested.
‘Mmm …’ Marjorie hesitated again. They hadn’t exactly been on a proper walk as such. ‘Well, we walked to Lily’s.’
The women’s faces flashed concern and they automatically looked at Rosie.
‘Did you?’ Rosie tried to keep her voice casual, but her words were clipped.
‘Yes, but we didn’t go to Lily’s,’ Charlotte said, suddenly panicking. Her sister had more or less forbidden her to go there without her say-so.
‘What do you mean? Did you go or didn’t you?’ Rosie snapped. God, why was Lily and her bloody abode like a magnet to her little sister?
‘Well, we didn’t pay a visit to Lily’s,’ Marjorie said, sensing that they had done something wrong, although unsure what exactly. ‘It was more a case of us passing since we decided it was rude to call unannounced.’
‘I should think so too!’ Angie said, causing Charlotte and Marjorie to jump. ‘Yer dinnit just go ’n knock on someone’s door without being invited!’
Dorothy looked at her friend, who had no qualms about knocking on anyone’s door uninvited.
‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ Hannah said, turning to Charlotte. ‘Thank you so much for my book!’ She bent down and scrabbled around in her bag. ‘See, I take it everywhere with me!’
Marjorie’s face lit up as she took the proffered book.
‘Oh, I adore Cicero. “Philosophy is the mother of all arts. The true medicine of the mind”,’ she quoted.
‘It is indeed,’ Hannah sighed. She looked up at the women sitting around the table. Tears had once again started to blur her vision.
‘A true medicine of the mind, just like my friends here – a medicine I could not survive without.’
As Hannah spoke, Marjorie opened the book and was hit by what she saw on the first page. It was a library card on which had been stamped: Property of the Runcorn School for Girls. Across it was scrawled, Enjoy! Love Charlie x.
She immediately shut the book and handed it back to Hannah.
‘Why don’t you two go and get yourselves something to eat?’ Rosie said to Charlotte and a flushed-looking Marjorie. ‘Before there’s nothing left. Muriel tends to shut up early on a Sunday. Then I can give you a quick tour of the yard before the start of the afternoon shift.’
Charlotte and Marjorie hurried off just as Helen walked into the canteen.
‘Helen!’ Rosie waved at her, more to show she was welcome than their whereabouts.
‘Hi, everyone,’ Helen said, immediately seeing Hannah’s wan, tear-stained face.
‘Have a seat,’ Rosie said, pulling out the chair that Charlotte had just vacated.
‘Cuppa?’ asked Martha, taking hold of the teapot dominating the middle of the table.
‘No, thank you, Martha. I think I’ve already drunk enough to sink a ship.’ Helen smiled. ‘I just wanted to come and say a quick thank you to you all.’ She looked at the women. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Dorothy giving Angie a nudge. ‘To thank you for all the overtime you’re doing. I know you’re all working your socks off, and let’s face it, they’re not exactly ideal conditions.’
Everyone glanced out the canteen window. The sky was dark and the windowpanes were starting to rattle as the wind got up.
‘Providing there are no hiccups, it’s looking more and more likely that we’re going to hit a new production record, which is just brilliant.’
There was a murmur of agreement.
‘Are we still on schedule to launch Brutus before Christmas?’ Rosie asked.
‘Most definitely,’ Helen said, relaxing. She felt much more at ease with Rosie. Had even started to feel that there were the beginnings of a real friendship. ‘That’s the other reason I wanted to see you all.’
Again, Helen looked at the women’s expectant faces.
‘To tell you that I’ve set a launch date. Friday the eighteenth of December. Exactly a week before Christmas.’
‘Oh,’ Polly exclaimed. ‘That’s so exciting!’
Everyone’s focus diverted to Polly.
‘Tommy and I’ll be getting married the next day. On Saturday the nineteenth.’
Polly had wanted to tell them her news during the lunch break, but had held back after hearing the terrible news about Hannah’s parents.
‘Hurrah!’ Dorothy couldn’t contain herself.
‘Eee, that’s brilliant, Pol!’ Angie said. ‘That’s two weddings in one week!’
Helen looked at her former love rival and gave what appeared to be a genuine smile. ‘Congratulations, Polly!’
Everyone looked at their workmate and then at their boss. It was still strange to see Polly and Helen within arm’s length of each other, never mind celebrating the fact that Polly was going to marry the man Helen had desperately wanted for herself.
‘Thanks, Helen,’ Polly said, feeling a little awkward. Did Helen still harbour feelings for Tommy? She was unsure.
‘You’ve not left yourself much time, have you?’ Helen paused while she did a quick calculation. ‘Four weeks and four days exactly.’
‘Well, there’s not that much to organise really,’ Polly laughed. ‘It’s going to be quite a simple, low-key affair.’
‘But you’re still getting married in church?’ Helen asked.
‘Of course!’ Angie said, as if to suggest otherwise was an insult.
‘The vicar has to read out the banns for three weeks,’ Martha informed Helen. ‘To give people a chance to object if they want to.’
There was an awkward moment.
‘Not that anyone will be objecting,’ Hannah chipped in.
‘Of course not,’ Helen said.
There was another slightly strained silence.
‘And Tommy’s been discharged?’ Helen asked, wanting to fill the gap in the conversation.
‘Yes,’ Polly said. ‘He came out yesterday. I think he was going stir-crazy in there.’
‘Am I right in saying he’s not staying with you in Tatham Street?’ Helen asked.
‘No, he said he didn’t feel it was right to be under the same roof as me until after we were married.’
‘Oh.’ Helen couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. She glanced at Rosie, who returned her look of astonishment.
‘I know,’ Polly said, catching the look. ‘Everyone keeps saying the same thing. He must be mad, especially as he’d be fussed over no end by my ma – and fed stew and dumplings till it’s coming out of his ears.’
Helen and Polly both chuckled, knowing this had always been Tommy’s favourite meal since he was a child.
As the women started to quiz Polly about every detail of her wedding, Helen made her excuses and headed back to her office.
As she hurried across the yard to the main admin block, she felt a huge sense of relief. She had been terribly nervous about going across and seeing the women, Polly in particular. She had no idea if Tommy had remembered her ridiculous declaration of love on the night of the air raid, and if so, whether or not he’d told Polly. Judging by how friendly Polly had just been, Helen thought she was right to believe that Tommy hadn’t said a thing, even if he had remembered.
As Helen forced the main door to the admin building closed against t
he growing winds, the image of Hannah’s pale, tear-stained face came to the fore. She would have liked to have asked her what was wrong, but hadn’t felt at ease doing so in front of an audience.
The sadness that she had seen etched onto Hannah’s pretty face, though, had exacerbated her own guilt at the way she had treated the squad’s ‘little bird’ when she had first started at the yard. Making her do the hardest, most labour-intensive welding jobs in an effort to get shot of her – her ultimate aim being to break up Rosie’s squad as a convoluted way of getting back at Polly for stealing the man she had set her heart on.
She felt embarrassed just thinking about her past behaviour.
Had she really been that person? So selfish? So shallow? So heartless?
She felt like a different person now.
She was a different person now.
Everything she had been through this past year had changed her: finding out she had a baby sister; her father’s banishment to the Clyde; realising her mother’s love was, and always had been, purely conditional; being conned and abandoned by Theo – a married man with two children, and his wife expecting a third.
But she knew that what had really changed her, more than anything else, was losing her baby.
At the end of the shift, Rosie caught up with Dor and Angie.
‘You two off home?’
‘I’m just gannin to see my mam ’n dad ’n the little ’uns,’ Angie said.
‘And I’m going to see my mum and the four terrors,’ Dorothy said.
‘Duty calls, eh?’ Rosie smiled. Both women had less than perfect families, although for very different reasons.
‘Once a week is once too much,’ Dorothy huffed.
‘At least with all this overtime we’ve got a good excuse not to gan round more often,’ Angie said.
Rosie knew that Dorothy’s family would probably not be too fussed if she only showed her face once in a blue moon, but Angie’s would be less than happy. Angie’s mam and dad relied on their daughter’s weekly visit to look after the children for a few hours, cook the Sunday dinner and give the house a quick going-over, as well as on the money she gave them.
