by Nancy Revell
‘Hello, Tommy!’ He stood up and put his hand out.
The two men shook hands.
‘Sit down.’ Dr Parker pointed towards a chair that had a stack of files on it. ‘Just bang them on the floor. One of these days I’ll get organised.’
Tommy put the files in a neat pile at the side of the desk and sat down.
‘Thanks for seeing me, Doc. I wanted to pick yer brains. Maybe ask yer a bit of a favour.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
A week later
Saturday 5 December
‘Nice to meet yer at long last,’ Pearl said as she pulled a pint of bitter and put it on the bar. She grabbed a cloth from under the counter and quickly dried her hands of overspill.
‘I’ve heard a lot about yer,’ she said, her voice gravelly. She coughed to clear her throat. ‘Glad yer made it back in one piece.’ She stuck her hand out. Tommy noticed her fingers were stained yellow with tar.
‘Nice to meet yer too, Pearl,’ Tommy said, shaking her hand. Bel’s errant ma was exactly as he had imagined. Polly had described her well. He smiled. For some reason he felt sorry for her.
‘Bet yer glad this place was left standing,’ Tommy said, looking around the pub.
Since being discharged from hospital he had walked past the bomb site at the end of the street on a number of occasions. Seeing it with his own eyes had made him realise, even more than he already had, just how incredibly lucky Polly and Arthur and the rest of the Elliot household had been to escape unscathed.
It had strengthened his resolve.
‘Yer right there, pet. Could just be a pile of bricks here now.’ Pearl’s face was unusually serious for a moment. She would never admit to the sheer panic she’d felt that night, fearing the worst for her daughter and granddaughter. ‘Good job it’s still here. I’d ’ave been out of a job otherwise.’ She forced out a bark of laughter.
‘Welcome back, lad!’
Pearl turned to see Bill, who had come back up from the cellar, where he’d been changing a barrel. He stretched out a large hand that was as rough as sandpaper.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said, shaking Tommy’s hand vigorously. ‘I’m Bill – the landlord of this revered establishment. For my sins.’ He smiled. He’d been eager to meet Tommy, not just because he was Polly’s fiancé, but because, in his books, anyone who put their life on the line to win this war was a hero.
Polly felt someone nudge her and turned to see that Ronald had sidled up and was stretching out a bare, tattooed arm along the bar.
‘Ronald.’ A fag was dangling from his mouth as he spoke. He grabbed Tommy’s hand. ‘Honour to meet yer, lad. Pearl here’s told me all about yer ’n what yer’ve been deeing ’oot there.’
Polly sensed Tommy’s unease.
‘Oh, look!’ She took her port and lemon off the bar. ‘There’s a free table. Best grab it.’
Tommy paid for the round, in spite of Bill’s objections.
‘Nice to meet yer all,’ Tommy said. ‘And thanks, Bill, for allowing us to take over half yer pub after the wedding.’
‘Our pleasure, pet,’ Pearl said, edging in front of Bill. ‘Least we could do, isn’t it?’ She looked up at Bill, who was nodding his agreement.
‘Blimey,’ Polly said as they made their way over to the free table, ‘I think that’s the most civil I’ve ever heard Pearl. And I mean ever.’
Tommy laughed.
‘I think that might be due to the large glass of whisky I noticed she had stashed by the pumps.’
Tommy took a swig of his Vaux bitter, wiping away the creamy froth from his upper lip.
‘So, Ronald’s your neighbour out back?’ Tommy said.
‘And Pearl’s suitor.’ Polly rolled her eyes.
‘And what about Bill?’
‘Another suitor.’ Polly took a sip of her drink.
Tommy cast a look over at the bar to see Bill and Pearl serving customers and Ronald sitting there, a pint and a whisky chaser in front of him.
‘So, it sounds like Bel’s getting on better with her ma these days,’ Tommy said. He had always liked Bel from first meeting her at the Elliots’.
‘She is.’ Polly thought for a moment. ‘They still enjoy sniping at each other, but I think that’s just how they communicate.’
She took another sip of her port.
‘Having said that, Bel doesn’t seem as angry towards her ma as she used to be.’
‘Oh, aye?’ Tommy asked.
‘Well,’ Polly dropped her voice, ‘I think Pearl’s told her about her real dad, but Bel’s not said anything to me.’
‘That surprises me.’ Tommy knew Polly and Bel were close. Always had been.
‘I know,’ Polly said. ‘Bel can be a closed book at times. I’m sure she’ll tell me when she’s ready.’
Tommy took another sup of beer.
‘So, is there anything else I need to know about the wedding? Or anything I need to do? I don’t feel like I’m being much help.’
Polly chuckled. ‘That’s because there’s nothing much to do, really. The joys of having a simple wedding. The church is booked. The banns are being read – which reminds me, we should go tomorrow. Just to show our faces.’
Tommy nodded.
‘Kate’s making my dress. I don’t even have to be involved in the design. She’s doing it all.’
Tommy smiled. He was so glad that Polly was at least going to have a special dress to wear.
‘Ma’s doing a spread,’ Polly continued, ‘but that won’t need to be done until the night before. And Arthur’s getting me some flowers from the allotment on the actual morning and Bel will be making them into a bouquet. So really, it’s all sorted.’ Polly paused. ‘Oh, and Rina and Vera are going to see what they can do about making us a cake. I’ve told them anything will do, and to use one of those cardboard toppers I’ve seen in the shops instead of icing. With the way rationing’s getting, I’m just thankful we’re to have a cake at all.’
Tommy looked at Polly’s face and listened to the tone of her voice, but could not pick up any regret that their wedding day was going to be a very modest one. She didn’t seem to harbour any regrets about spending the gratuity money.
He didn’t care how they got married – whether it be in rags at the local registry office or some grand affair like the one Lily and George had planned. As long as Polly married him, everything else was incidental.
The pair chatted away, oblivious to those around them and unaware that they were gradually having to raise their voices to be heard as the pub became full to bursting. When Tommy went to the bar for another round, he was stopped by those he didn’t know, slapped on the back and offered a drink. Word had got round that Tommy, who most knew as either ‘Arthur’s lad’ or ‘the dock diver’, was back.
Polly watched Tommy as he refused all offers of a drink. Saw his discomfort at being the centre of so much attention. And the relief when he’d made it back to their table.
‘So, anyway,’ Tommy said, ‘I went to see the doc the other day.’ It had actually been an entire week, but Tommy had been putting off telling Polly.
‘Really?’ Polly was surprised he hadn’t mentioned he’d had an appointment.
‘We had a good chat.’ Tommy took a breath. ‘And the doc thinks I’m well enough to do what’s called a “medically supervised” dive.’
Polly felt herself stiffen.
‘Really? That surprises me.’ She looked at Tommy. ‘But what about your ruptured spleen? Wasn’t there a question mark over whether or not it would be safe for you to dive again?’
Tommy shuffled on his chair.
‘Ah, well, I asked the doc to look into that fer me …’ His voice trailed off.
‘And?’ Polly could feel her heart starting to beat faster.
‘He says there’s nothing to say I will come to any harm—’
‘—and nothing to say that you won’t,’ Polly finished his sentence.
Tommy leant forward and took hold of Poll
y’s hand.
‘Please, Polly. I need yer support in this.’ His eyes pleaded. ‘I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone ever before in my life. Or ever will.’
Polly saw the love in Tommy’s eyes. Heard it in his voice.
‘But you know my other love is diving. I can’t imagine life without being able to dive. I need to know if I can still do it.’
Polly looked at Tommy.
‘I know, Tommy, I know.’
‘And,’ he added, ‘I really need to know that I can keep on being of some use to the war effort.’
Polly looked at Tommy.
‘By going back to work at the yard?’
There was the tiniest of hesitations.
‘Aye,’ he said simply.
Polly looked at him. ‘I know I’m being soft, I just feel terrified that something will happen to you.’ She hesitated, unsure whether to carry on. ‘I sometimes feel so happy that I worry it’s all going to be whipped away.’
She felt her throat tighten.
‘That night after the air raid, when Helen told me you were in the Ryhope, I wouldn’t allow myself to believe it until I’d seen you with my own eyes.’
She took a deep breath.
‘I just couldn’t believe that you’d come back to me. That you were alive. I have never been so thankful, so incredibly relieved, and so, so happy. I can’t even put into words how I felt. I think I’ve spent every day since pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.’
Tommy looked at the woman he loved. It brought him such pleasure but also such pain to hear her words.
‘I’ll be fine. Honestly, if there was any serious danger, I know the doc wouldn’t allow it. Come on,’ he said, looking at their empty glasses, ‘let me walk you home and you can ask me in for a cup of tea.’
Polly smiled.
‘Walk me home?’ she repeated. ‘All of ten yards across the road?’
‘Exactly,’ he said with a mischievous smile, ‘which leaves us more time to drink lots of tea.’
Polly laughed.
They stood up and Tommy grabbed her hand as they made their way through the packed pub and out the front door. Once outside, Tommy put his arm around Polly’s waist and pulled her close.
‘You know I’ve never done – and will never do – anything to cause you unhappiness?’
‘I know,’ Polly said. ‘I know.’
Later on, as Tommy made his way back to the Major’s flat, he argued with himself about whether or not he should have been more honest with Polly.
If he’d told her the whole truth, though, she’d have worried and he’d already brought enough anxiety and upset into her life without doing it again. Especially if it was unnecessary.
No, he’d done right.
He’d tell her only when he was certain he was able to do what he wanted to do.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
One week later
Saturday 12 December
‘Bet yer glad to see yer Tommy back?’ Stan the ferryman asked Arthur as he made his unsteady way onto the old paddle steamer.
‘Aye, I am that.’
The two men went through their usual ritual of Arthur trying to pay the penny fare and Stan refusing to let him. The old man had, in Stan’s opinion, more than earned his free pass after a life of working on the Wear.
‘Polly said he’s doing a dive today?’ Stan asked as the ferry churned water and moved away from the landing.
‘Aye,’ Arthur said, looking up at skies, clear but for the overbearing grey barrage balloons. He grabbed the railings as the paddle steamer hit wash.
He looked up at the squawking gulls tailing a fishing trawler back to the south quay. Today’s dive would be a success, he was sure. That wasn’t his concern. What did worry him, though, was what the lad was really up to.
He could read Tommy like a bloody book. Had seen his face when they’d been listening to the latest news reports about the Allied offensive in Tunisia having met with only minimum success, but he’d held his tongue. Tommy was his own man. He had to do what was right for him.
As the ferry reached North Sands, Arthur tipped his flat cap to Stan by way of thanks and made his way up to J.L. Thompson’s.
‘I can’t believe you’ve sanctioned this, John!’
Helen was fuming. She was standing, hands on hips, glowering across her office at Dr Parker. Even Winston the cat had forsaken his spot by the electric fire and had slunk out to the main office.
‘Helen, there’s nothing I can do to stop him. He’s a very determined bloke. If I’d said no, I know he’d simply have got some other doctor. He’s been my patient from the off. The least I can do is try and make sure he’s all right. Or as all right as can be.’
‘Have you made sure the St John’s ambulance is on hand?’
‘Of course I have.’
‘And they’ve got a half-decent driver, not some old fogey with cataracts who drives about as fast as I can run – and that’s in my high heels?’
‘Yes, I’ve got a full and competent crew, all sharp as a button, all on standby at the quayside – as we speak.’
Dr Parker felt his anger rising to the surface.
Was Helen doubting his competence?
Or was she worried sick about the man she clearly still loved?
‘Well, I’m not going down to watch. I’m staying here!’ she said, folding her arms. ‘Let’s just pray to God nothing goes wrong. If not for the yard’s reputation, then for Polly’s sake.’
Dr Parker looked at Helen.
Her concern for Polly surprised him.
Still, it took all his willpower not to slam the office door behind him.
‘Eee,’ Dorothy said, ‘reminds me of when we all first started.’
The women were all sitting on palettes by the quayside. Near enough to have a good view, but not so near as to cause a nuisance and get in the way of Ralph, the two divers and linesmen. And Tommy, of course.
Arthur was sitting further down the quayside on one of the huge metal cleats. Polly could tell he wanted to be on his own so hadn’t tried to persuade him to join them.
Gloria took hold of Polly’s hand and squeezed it. ‘You feeling nervous?’
Polly forced a smile.
‘A little,’ she admitted.
Gloria looked at Rosie. ‘I thought Charlotte was desperate to come?’
Rosie sighed heavily, as she was wont to do whenever she talked about her little sister.
‘She was. I’ve sent her up to the office to watch with Helen, Bel and Marie-Anne. She pulled a face, but I said it was either that or not at all.’
‘Look, they’re getting Tommy ready!’ Dorothy pointed ahead.
Polly didn’t need telling. Her eyes had been fixed on Tommy from the moment he’d given her a kiss, told her not to worry and walked over to where Ralph and the rest of the diving team were.
‘They’re off!’ Dorothy shouted out.
‘They’re not doing a bleedin’ race, Dor!’ Angie rolled her eyes at the rest of the women.
They all watched as one by one the men of the diving team made it to a large, flat-bottomed wooden boat bobbing gently by the side of the dock.
Polly caught movement in her peripheral vision and turned to see Dr Parker walking over to the St John’s ambulance just fifty yards or so away. He looked serious. If she didn’t know better, she’d have said he also looked a little angry. He nodded over in her direction. She returned the gesture with a nervous smile.
‘Remember how we used to call them “monster men”?’ Martha said.
‘Yes,’ Hannah said. ‘I thought they were rather scary.’ She looked at Olly, who was sitting next to her, and gave him a self-deprecating chuckle. ‘Then again, I think I found most things scary at that time.’
‘Seems like another time, doesn’t it?’ Polly said, her eyes still glued to Tommy. He was wearing his old canvas suit and weighted boots. Two divers stood on either side of him and were carefully placing a huge twelve-bolt cop
per helmet over his head.
The women all murmured their agreement. All quietly thinking of the changes the past two years had brought to their own lives.
Polly’s leg started bouncing nervously as the divers screwed the helmet onto the metal corselet and the linesmen attached his air tube and started feeding ropes through the metal rings attached to Tommy’s suit.
The women fell silent as the men stood back, their work done. Ralph stood in front of Tommy and raised his thumb in the air. Tommy mirrored his actions before manoeuvring himself around a hundred and eighty degrees. He stepped back and made his slow descent down the iron rungs of the ladder at the side of the boat.
Gloria put her arm around Polly and gave her a hug. ‘He’s going to be just fine. You’ll see. And just think, if he gets over this hurdle it means he can come back to work. When he’s fully recovered, that is. It’ll be like he’s never been away. And better still, you’ll be man and wife.’
Polly looked at Gloria, her eyes sparkling. ‘I know. I’ve been thinking that ever since he told me. Well, once I got over the shock of him wanting to do this.’
‘How long will he be down there for?’ Martha asked.
‘About ten – possibly fifteen – minutes,’ Rosie said.
Both Polly’s legs were now jigging up and down.
‘He’ll be fine, Polly. Honestly.’ They were words Rosie repeated to herself every day whenever she started to worry about Peter.
She’d found that if you said something enough times, you actually started to believe it.
‘So, what now?’ Charlotte asked.
‘We wait!’ Helen snapped, lighting up another cigarette.
Charlotte found herself inching towards Bel and Marie-Anne.
‘Are you sure you won’t have a cuppa, Charlie?’ Bel asked.
Charlotte shook her head vehemently.
‘God, why couldn’t Tommy simply have waited a bit longer?’ Helen said, blowing out a billow of smoke.
Charlotte had to suppress a cough. She wasn’t used to people smoking around her.
‘So,’ Marie-Anne said, ‘if it goes all right today, when do you think he’ll be coming back to work?’
