Courage of the Shipyard Girls

by Nancy Revell

Hope’s forlorn face stared over her rescuer’s shoulder as she watched her mammy and her sister disappear from view.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  When the air raid sirens sounded out, Lily sighed dramatically.

  ‘And I was so looking forward to my dessert,’ she exclaimed, looking around the table at her nearest and dearest.

  ‘I hope it’s not going to last long,’ Kate said. She didn’t need to say why. Everyone knew she was itching to get back to the bordello to work on Lily’s wedding dress.

  ‘It’s probably just a false alarm,’ Vivian said, with just a slight suggestion of an American accent; she kept her full-on Mae West impression to the confines of Lily’s.

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ Maisie said. During the last air raid attack her heart had turned over when she’d heard the bombs had landed just a few streets away from Bel’s and Lucille’s front door.

  ‘Don’t worry, hon,’ Vivian drawled, reading her friend’s thoughts. ‘Lightning never strikes twice. Well, very rarely anyway.’

  Rosie looked at Vivian and Maisie, then at Kate, and finally at Lily and George. She wondered what it would be like if Charlotte was also here. Would she like the people who had become a strange, dysfunctional kind of family? Or would she be repelled by the nature of the business in which they all worked? Was she even old enough to be told about the kind of work they were all involved in?

  Not long after they and the other diners and hotel guests had made it down into the extremely well-supplied cellar, they heard the bombs land, and felt the ground shudder underfoot. No one said what they were thinking. They didn’t have to. It was obvious. Rosie noticed Maisie becoming increasingly agitated. She could empathise. All her women welders lived in the east end.

  Just over half an hour later when the all-clear sounded out, Maisie was one of the first to leave the relative comfort of the hotel basement, followed by Rosie.

  ‘Where did they drop?’ Maisie grabbed an ARP warden heading towards Hendon.

  ‘Tatham Street, Laura Street and Tavistock Place,’ the man told them, his face grave. ‘It’s bad by all accounts.’

  Rosie and Maisie took one look at each other.

  ‘We’ll see you back at West Lawn,’ Rosie shouted back as she and Maisie broke into a run.

  Neither needed to say where they were going or what they dreaded finding when they got there.

  ‘I’ll just have a quick fag,’ Pearl told Bill, speaking loudly to be heard over the air raid sirens that had just started up.

  ‘Probably a no-show,’ she said, walking round and sitting on the other side of the bar. She had just poured herself a large Scotch.

  ‘See yer later!’ she shouted over to the last couple of regulars to leave.

  Walking back across to the bar after locking up, Bill looked at Pearl; she didn’t seem in much of a rush to go down to the basement.

  ‘Gerra move on, you two!’ Ronald’s voice shouted up from the depths of the cellar. ‘We’re just about to deal here!’

  ‘Hold yer horses, we’ll be down in a minute.’ Pearl took another drag on her cigarette.

  ‘Go on then, twist my arm,’ Bill said, grabbing a glass from the side and pouring himself a good measure.

  ‘Well, dinnit blame me if a bomb drops on us,’ Pearl laughed.

  Bill had just pulled up a stool next to Pearl when the bombs did drop. And although they didn’t land on top of them, they weren’t far off.

  ‘Jesus!’ Pearl grabbed the side of the bar, feeling as though the earth had just moved underneath her, which it probably had.

  The noise of both explosions, one immediately after the other, was deafening and terrifying.

  Bill did a quick scan of the pub. Everything was still in one piece.

  ‘So much fer a “no-show”,’ he said.

  Pearl stubbed out her cigarette and downed her whisky in one, before jumping off her stool.

  ‘Isabelle ’n Lucille!’ was all she said.

  Bill hurried ahead and unbolted the front door.

  Looking down the street to her left, Pearl could just make out that two of the houses opposite the Education Architect’s Offices had been obliterated. Looking over the tops of the houses to her right she could see another plume of destruction. She guessed by the location of the billowing smoke that Tavistock Place had taken a hit. Panic kicked in. Bel and Lucille always took shelter in the basement of one of the big houses there.

  Hurrying across the cobbles, coughing because of the sudden dryness of the air and the spreading smoke, Pearl kept her eyes fixed on the front door of number 34. She didn’t notice an ambulance slam on its brakes to avoid adding to the number of casualties; her mind was elsewhere. It was nearly ten o’clock. Lucille would normally have been in bed at this time. Bel would be drinking tea and chatting to Polly if Joe was on Home Guard duty. The chances were they’d not have had time to get themselves round to Tavistock Place – fingers crossed.

  Standing on Agnes’s front doorstep, Pearl took a deep breath. She felt Bill behind her, his hands on her shoulders.

  She banged hard on the door.

  ‘Isabelle! LuLu! You in there!’ Pearl shouted at the top of her lungs. Her heart felt as though it was hammering its way out of her chest. She heard footsteps before the front door swung open.

  ‘Ma!’ Bel said. She had a tight hold of Lucille, who had her coat on over her nightdress. Polly, Agnes and Arthur stood in the hallway behind them.

  ‘We’re just leaving for the shelter!’ Bel picked up Lucille and stepped out of the house, looking around her at the growing mayhem.

  ‘No, yer not,’ Bill said, as Agnes, Arthur and Polly followed. ‘Looks like Tavistock Place’s just taken a hit. You’re all coming to the pub.’

  No one argued.

  ‘What about Beryl ’n her two lasses?’ Arthur asked; like Lucille, he too had his coat on over his nightclothes.

  ‘It’s all right, Arthur,’ Agnes said, taking him by the elbow, ‘they’re visiting relatives in Shields.’

  Hurrying across the road and into the Tatham, they all just about managed to squash into the cellar, although Ronald grumbled quietly about having to forsake his game of poker.

  ‘I hope Gloria and Hope are all right,’ Polly worried.

  Bel gave her a questioning look.

  ‘She was off to see an old friend who’s just moved in down the road,’ Polly explained.

  ‘With Hope?’ Bel asked, instantly worried.

  As soon as the all-clear sounded out, everyone climbed out of the cellar and made their way round to the other side of the bar.

  ‘We’re going to find Gloria,’ Polly said.

  ‘And Hope,’ Bel added. ‘LuLu, you stay with your two nanas while Mammy goes and sees a friend quickly.’

  ‘Be careful,’ Agnes told them both, as she hauled her sleepy granddaughter onto her lap.

  ‘Aye, watch yerselves,’ Pearl added as Bel and Polly hurried out of the pub. She would never say it, of course, but she was beyond relieved that it had been the end of the street that had been bombed and not the middle.

  Bill grabbed a bottle of whisky he kept for personal use from under the counter.

  ‘I think we all need one of these,’ he said, sloshing the Scotch into each glass and handing them out.

  No one argued.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Seeing Martha turn and gingerly make her way out of the skeleton of the house, Helen turned her attention to Gloria.

  ‘Right, time to get you out of this hellhole!’

  Clambering around the mound of rubble so that she was behind Gloria, Helen clamped her arms around her friend to gain as much leverage as possible, before using her own bodyweight to pull Gloria from under her stone counter-pane.

  ‘Argh!’ Gloria was clearly in agony.

  ‘I’m stuck!’ She twisted her head round. ‘This place is going to go any minute. Please, Helen, leave me! Get out while you can!’

  Helen didn’t say anything, but kept on pulling.r />
  Gloria’s face blanched. Something metallic was cutting into her left leg.

  ‘Please, Helen!’ Gloria begged. ‘Go! What’ll happen to Hope if neither of us makes it out?’ She cried out in pain again as Helen continued to jerk her backwards.

  ‘Take care of Hope! You’ll make a brilliant mam!’ Gloria bit down on her lip, the pain making it hard for her to speak. ‘Hope adores you.’

  Helen puffed as she desperately tried to pull Gloria out. She felt as though she was in a tug of war, only her opponent was invisible – and much stronger than her.

  ‘As much as I adore Hope,’ Helen spoke through gasps, ‘I don’t want to be her “mam”, thank you very much!’

  She pulled again. This time there was a slight movement.

  ‘I’m quite happy being her big sister.’

  She pulled again.

  Again there was another slight shift.

  ‘Did I ever tell you I always wanted a sister?’ Helen spoke through a rush of air.

  ‘Just a few dozen times!’ Gloria laughed and cried out at the same time. She felt as though someone was slowly piercing her left leg with the blade of a knife.

  ‘Come on! One more time!’ Helen shouted.

  Gloria pushed back as hard as she could, as Helen pulled with the last shred of strength she had left.

  Screwing up her eyes, making her world go black, Gloria felt the most unbearable, searing pain, and let out the most ear-splitting cry of agony.

  And then, suddenly, she felt a jolt as her leg jerked free.

  ‘Thank God!’ Helen cried out as she toppled backwards.

  Gloria wasted no time in dragging her legs out from under the metal beam.

  As they both struggled to their feet, they froze in terror as they heard the house let out a deep groan.

  ‘Come on, Gloria! We’ve got to go!’ Helen looked down at Gloria’s left leg, and felt herself gag. It was a bloody mess.

  ‘Put your arm around me,’ she ordered. Gloria hooked her arm around Helen’s neck as they both staggered down the hallway.

  Glancing at her friend, Helen thought she looked like she was on the verge of passing out.

  ‘Stay with me, Gloria!’ she shouted.

  Gloria’s head nodded forward and Helen felt herself bow under the weight. Her whole body was shaking with nerves and exhaustion.

  ‘Gloria!’ Helen shouted.

  Gloria’s head came up off her chest.

  ‘I’m here,’ she mumbled.

  As they stumbled towards the front door, Mrs Crabtree’s home gave up the ghost.

  Letting out another deep, sorrowful lament, the ceiling finally caved in.

  Seconds later, the walls followed suit.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  When the all-clear siren sounded out, Hannah and Olly were the first to leave the sanctuary of the synagogue’s basement. They’d heard that Tatham Street and Tavistock Place had been badly hit.

  Hurrying along Ryhope Road, Hannah prayed aloud:

  ‘Please let everyone be all right!’

  Turning right down Gray Road and passing the rear entrance of the Sunderland Church High School, Hannah’s mind flickered to Rosie. She had always agreed with Rosie’s decision to keep Charlotte in Harrogate. Even more so now.

  Crossing over Toward Road, they heard the clanging bells of the fire engines in the distance.

  ‘I hope Martha’s being careful,’ Hannah said, glancing across at Olly.

  ‘She’ll be fine.’ Olly tried to sound reassuring, although he had got to know Martha well and was under no doubt that when it came to helping others, the idea of being careful would be the last thing to cross her mind.

  After a few minutes they reached the end of Gray Street and turned left onto Suffolk Street, passing St Ignatius Church, where they had all gathered just under a year ago to see Hope baptised. The streets now were beginning to fill with people emerging from their homes or walking back from wherever they had sought sanctuary.

  ‘Is that Dorothy and Angie?’ Hannah asked Olly as she spotted two women walking ahead of them.

  ‘It’s hard to tell,’ Olly said. Not only was it dark, but the two women in front of them were covered from head to foot in grey soot.

  ‘Dorothy! Angie!’ Hannah shouted out.

  The two women turned around. Hannah gasped. She had never seen them looking this dirty at work, but more worryingly, she had never seen them looking so dejected.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Olly asked, seeing that Dorothy and Angie also had identical tear marks running down their ashen faces.

  ‘Please don’t tell us it was Polly’s house?’ Hannah felt her stomach turn.

  ‘No, no, we passed their house. It’s fine,’ Dorothy said, tears welling up.

  ‘And Tavistock Place where they go for shelter?’ Olly asked. ‘Is that all right?’

  Dorothy and Angie both nodded.

  ‘It’s Gloria and Hope!’ Dorothy blurted out.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Hannah asked, her stomach turning over. ‘Gloria’s flat’s on the Borough Road?’

  ‘She was visiting some auld woman she knew from way back,’ Angie said. ‘At the bottom of Tatham Street. Where the bloody bomb dropped.’

  ‘And she had Hope with her,’ Dorothy said, forcing back more tears.

  ‘Ó můj bože!’ Hannah broke into her mother tongue.

  ‘The house is a wreck!’ Tears had started to fall down Dorothy’s face.

  ‘We saw Martha ’n Helen outside what’s left of it,’ Angie said.

  Hannah looked confused at the mention of Helen, but didn’t say anything.

  ‘Were Gloria and Hope in there?’ she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  Dorothy looked at Angie.

  ‘We think so. Helen told us to check the flat and the public shelter—’

  ‘That’s where we’ve been,’ Angie said, ‘but they weren’t there. We can’t think of anywhere else they might have gone.’

  ‘Come on,’ Olly said, squeezing Hannah’s hand. ‘Let’s go and see if they’ve found them.’

  They hurried down Suffolk Street and then under the railway bridge that heralded the start of Tatham Street, where they slowed down, shocked by the surreal scene that greeted them.

  ARP wardens and residents were digging in the rubble of the two houses that had been completely razed to the ground. The building opposite was all but demolished. People were wandering around, crying and shouting out the names of loved ones, random fires were being put out by the auxiliary fire service – then, amidst the pandemonium, they spotted Bel and Polly.

  ‘Over here!’ Dorothy shouted out.

  The women all hurried towards each other.

  ‘Have you seen Gloria and Hope?’ Bel asked. Her face was gaunt with worry.

  ‘We think they’re in there,’ Angie said.

  ‘In the house?’ Polly said in horror.

  Dorothy and Angie nodded.

  All of a sudden they heard someone shouting.

  ‘Bel!’

  They all looked around to see Maisie and Rosie jogging towards them.

  ‘Thank God, you’re all right!’ Maisie grabbed hold of her sister and gave her a bear hug.

  ‘Where’s Lucille? Is she all right? I went to the house but no one was there.’

  ‘Yes, yes, she’s fine. She’s with Ma and everyone in the Tatham,’ Bel said.

  ‘What about Gloria and Hope?’ Rosie asked.

  Her answer was met by silence as Hannah, Olly, Dorothy, Angie, Polly and Bel all looked towards the shell of the house in front of them.

  ‘We think Martha’s in there too,’ Dorothy said.

  ‘And Helen,’ Angie added. They’d almost forgotten about Helen.

  ‘Well, we better get in there and get them,’ Rosie said, matter-of-factly, as she started to climb over the mammoth mound of bricks that led to the house.

  They all started to follow when suddenly they saw Martha’s distinctive figure staggering unsteadily out of what
had once been the front of Mrs Crabtree’s home.

  She had Hope in her arms.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Martha hesitated for a fraction of second, before she turned away from Helen and Gloria and carefully stepped over the masonry that was covering the mosaic tiles of Mrs Crabtree’s hallway.

  Her pace was slow as she felt a little unsteady and she was fearful of falling with the babe in her arms.

  She could feel Hope’s chin on her shoulder and knew she was looking back at her mammy and her sister.

  She could also feel blood trickling down her neck from where she’d bashed her head.

  As Martha walked through what had been the entrance to the house, and along the front door that was lying flat on the ground, she looked ahead of her.

  She blinked hard.

  Her vision had become blurred. Either that or the weather had turned misty.

  She blinked hard again.

  Was that Rosie? What on earth was she doing here?

  And was that Dorothy and Angie behind her?

  And Polly?

  Blimey, the whole squad was there. Even Hannah and Olly.

  Martha felt the strangest urge to laugh.

  Rosie looked like Boadicea going into battle with her cohorts behind her.

  The urge to chuckle, however, ended abruptly when she realised she was losing her balance.

  Come on! Martha ordered herself.

  Instinct told her to put the child down. They were a good few yards away from the house. They were safe now.

  Martha carefully lowered Hope to the ground.

  As soon as she did so, she felt her legs buckle, followed by a jarring pain as her knees hit hard stone.

  How strange that everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

  She caught a glimpse of Hope standing by her side as the rest of her body went down, just like a tree being felled.

  Rosie reached Martha at the same time that Bel reached Hope.

  Bel swung the little girl up into her arms and immediately started inspecting her for any obvious wounds. Maisie looked at the house. She’d seen plenty like it in London. She grabbed Bel’s free hand and led her carefully over the rubble, wanting to get as much distance as possible between themselves and the building before the inevitable.