by Anne Bennett
‘I can understand that,’ Joe said. ‘New York was your home.’
‘And this is yours,’ Gloria said. ‘And though I know that both you and Ben are happy here, I can never look upon it as permanent.’
‘It will be very hard to start afresh in a strange place where I would not only have to find a job, but somewhere to live too,’ Joe said.
‘I know you can’t wave a magic wand,’ Gloria replied. ‘Just as long as you know that I could never settle here.’
‘I understand that,’ Joe said. ‘But while we are here do you want to see around the naval base?’
Gloria shrugged. ‘I’m easy, to tell you the truth,’ she said. ‘It’s Helen that’s mad keen, and Nellie is nearly as bad. The two men have been filling their heads with tales of the facilities on offer at the camp and they want to see for themselves.’
‘It’s probably not half as good as they say it is,’ Joe said, and then added with a grin, ‘You know what they say about all these Americans and how boastful they are.’
Gloria punched Joe playfully on the arm. ‘Watch it, you. And shall I go or stay away?’
‘Well, I can’t see the harm in going for a look.’
‘Right,’ said Gloria with an emphatic nod of her head. ‘I will then.’
FIFTEEN
Gloria never forgot her first sight of Springtown Camp. Neat rows and rows of metal huts with rounded roofs that Morrisey told her were called Quonset huts were set to one end. In front of them was a vast open space where wide paths dissected lawned areas. They led to the central point where the Stars and Stripes fluttered from a large flagpole. The sight of that actually caused a lump to form in Gloria’s throat.
Seeing how moved she was, Morrisey said, ‘Doesn’t it do your heart good to see that flag flying here?’
Gloria nodded. She couldn’t trust herself to speak, but she had never ever thought to see the Stars and Stripes fluttering in Ireland, even in the British-ruled six counties. But there was no time to stand and stare, for Meadows was leading them into the building, where a long, wide and airy corridor stretched out before them, doors opening off it.
The first room, the library, was stacked floor to ceiling with books of every size and description. At the tables many men sat reading or studying.
‘I think a library is a very good idea,’ Helen said as they all left the room. ‘My husband, John, was in the British Army and he never had access to such facilities. I know because he was an avid reader and he used to ask me to choose books to put in the parcels I sent him. I never knew if I got it right, unless he asked for something specific.’
‘It’s not just good for reading for pleasure, though,’ Morrisey said. ‘Some of my students are in there. Here they have the books they need to hand, and peace and quiet in which to work. Believe me, peace and quiet is what many crave for in a busy military camp.’
‘I can well believe that,’ Nellie said.
Meadows opened the next door, saying as he did so, ‘And this is the fellow who has the men in the camp half scalped, the barber.’
It was like a barber’s shop like you might find in any high street, Gloria thought as she surveyed the barber lathering a man’s chin. The barber was obviously well used to the sailors’ banter, as he had a large grin on his face as he replied in a broad Irish accent, ‘Away out of that. If you want to know what scalped is I will demonstrate it willingly.’
‘Now you’ve cooked your goose,’ Morrisey said. ‘There’ll not be a hair left on your head the next time he gets you in that chair. Isn’t that right, Paddy?’
‘It is right enough,’ replied the barber. ‘And indeed I might not wait until I have him in the chair to give him a quick tidy-up.’
‘Huh,’ Meadows said, laughing. ‘I would like to see you try.’
Morrisey, with a good-natured wave to the barber, closed the door as he said to Meadows with a sardonic grin, ‘I wouldn’t argue with the barber if I were you. He that wields the scissors has the power as far as I am concerned. Now, ladies,’ Morrisey said, turning to the three women, ‘this next is a place that might interest you. The launderette.’
The launderette fascinated the three women as the assistant explained the function of each machine to them. Gloria sighed as she thought how long the washing took her at the little cottage, especially as every drop of water had to be fetched from the well. She’d had to wash every day after Biddy had been taken ill because she had become incontinent. Nellie spoke for them all when she said, ‘Well, I wouldn’t mind how much washing I had to do if I had a couple of those in my kitchen. I could have the lot finished in no time at all.’
‘Quite a few women who work on the camp get their washing done here,’ the assistant said. ‘I do it for them. For half a crown they have the washing done, and I add another shilling if they want it dried.’
‘What a boon that would be to working mothers,’ Gloria said as they crossed to the other side of the corridor.
Morrisey opened double doors to reveal a theatre complex, with plush tiered seats in front of the small, but very serviceable stage.
‘This is where they put shows on for the men,’ he said. ‘They have all sorts of entertainment laid on. And through here,’ he went on, leading the way, ‘is the most important room in the camp, the canteen.’
It was a massive place and Morrisey pointed out the soda fountain and said to one of the women behind the counter, ‘Can you pour us all an ice-cream soda, Joan?’
‘No problem, sir,’ the woman said.
Gloria watched as she poured a drink for them all and then astonished the three women by putting a scoop of ice cream in each one, saying to Gloria as she passed one to her, ‘I don’t suppose that you are new recruits?’
‘No, we’re just here for a look-round,’ Gloria said.
She took a sip of her drink and found it quite delicious and she told the woman so.
‘Glad you like it,’ Joan said. ‘Since I’ve worked here I have tasted things that I’ve never had before. Tell you what, these Americans look after their men.’
‘I know,’ Helen said. ‘We hardly believed what we have seen so far.’
‘You’re not from round here then?’
‘Not Derry, no,’ Gloria said. ‘We live in Buncrana.’
She noticed that Helen had wandered over to the windows where her mother stood between the two men and they were pointing something out to her. She was about to go over to join them when the woman said, ‘Buncrana isn’t that far away. I don’t suppose you are looking for a job at all? We’re pretty short-staffed here.’
Gloria laughed. ‘You surprise me. Isn’t every young girl in Derry breaking her neck to get in here?’
The woman smiled back. ‘Maybe they are, but they don’t particularly want young girls. With all these young men about it’s asking for trouble.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is.’
‘It’s more mature women they are after,’ Joan said. ‘Anyway, while the young girls might want to come here, their fathers are dead set against it. There is plenty of work for young girls as machinists in Derry at the moment, for the shirt factories are now turning out the uniforms as well, and the pay is good. Fathers seem to prefer that type of work for their daughters.’
‘Yes,’ said Gloria, watching a stream of sailors enter the room. ‘I can see why.’
The woman moved away to take her place again behind the counter as Helen came up to Gloria. ‘What was all that about?’
‘The woman was telling me how short-staffed they were,’ Gloria said. ‘She thought we might be after a job. She says they prefer older, more mature women to work at the camp.’
‘Mature, is it?’ said Helen with a laugh. ‘That leaves the pair of us out then.’
With the calves born and most of the spring planting done, Tom was ready to be off to England to find Molly in mid-March. It was so early the sun wasn’t right up, and it was still a little dusky, but Tom was catching the mail boat that sailed at seven thirty an
d Joe was driving him as far as Derry. Despite the early hour, Gloria and Ben had got up to bid Tom farewell. Ben was quite tearful as he hugged his uncle.
Gloria said, ‘You come back soon, Tom Sullivan. Don’t you be tempted by the delights of the big city.’
‘There’s never a fear of that,’ Tom said with a laugh.
‘Let’s away then,’ Joe said. ‘Derry is a fair step, especially with this horse, and the train waits for no man.’
Tom pulled himself up beside his brother and with the flick of the reins they were away.
Gloria gave a sigh. Tom was a quiet and mild-mannered man, and yet she knew the place wouldn’t be the same without him, and she would be glad to see him back again where he belonged.
She wasn’t the only one to feel that way. Tom wished the ordeal was behind him too and he said this to Joe. ‘Course,’ he went on, ‘you would hardly understand how I feel. Travelling from place to place is probably nothing to you, but I am as nervous as a kitten.’
‘Well, the only place I chose to go to was America,’ Joe pointed out. ‘London, and even here, was forced on me because of circumstances.’
‘Aye, I know that, but you seem to be able to settle really well in any place.’
‘Well, this was my home.’
‘But sure, that was many years ago. You are nothing like the young fellow that went away from here. How could you be when you have had so many different experiences and all? Many men here are like me – dull old sticks who have never left the place of their birth and have no real desire to, and a lot of their wives are the same. You seem able to fit in anywhere, but I know Gloria doesn’t feel the same way at all.’
‘She doesn’t,’ Joe said. ‘She would like to leave here now that I am recovered, but even she doesn’t know how that is to be achieved. I mean, the world is still at war and though the bombing raids have eased considerably, they have left devastation in their wake. I would like to bet that more than a few people in many cities in England are living in some form of temporary accommodation, and if we left here I would have to find somewhere to live as well as a job. Added to that, Ben definitely doesn’t want to go. He was badly frightened in London, and the peace and tranquillity of this place is what he needs right now. Gloria sees that too.’
‘So here you’ll have to stay then, for the time being at least?’ Tom said.
‘Looks like it,’ Joe said, trying to hurry the plodding horse. ‘Will that bother you at all?’
‘Why should it bother me?’ Tom asked. ‘I am glad you’re here. With Mammy the way she was, few people ever came to the house and she gave out to me if ever I left it for any reason. I often felt the lack of company, and I was as pleased as Punch when Gloria wrote and asked if you could all come here until you should be completely recovered. I am sure that eventually you will leave, but until that time comes I will treasure this time that we have together.’
There was a lump in Joe’s throat as he thought of Tom toiling ceaselessly as one lonely day folded into another, and became weeks and months and then years, and for what? He must have thought at times of his pointless existence, but it would serve no purpose to speak of that now. Instead he said. ‘We owe you a lot, Tom, and both of us are aware of it. If and when we leave here I know that Ben will miss his Uncle Tom that he loves dearly.’
Tom’s face lit up. ‘Ah, it’s a fine boy you have there.’
‘I know it,’ said Joe. ‘He is the very light of my life, and Gloria’s too, of course.’
‘And mine as well,’ Tom said. ‘In a way he is lucky that so many people care for him, but then he is an easy boy to love.’
Again came that stab of guilt that Tom would never experience fatherhood, never know the love of a woman, and Joe could think of nothing further to say as the horse plodded along the road towards Derry. They settled into silence as the miles unfolded.
Eventually the station came into view. Tom wrinkled his nose as the smoky, damp air of the station assailed his nostrils and he surveyed the waiting train. It was like a panting beast, he thought, watching the smoke billowing from the front of it and hissing steam seeping along its wheels.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Joe assured him, sensing his nervousness. ‘Follow the rest of the people and you’ll not go far wrong.’
‘Huh, you don’t know me.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Joe replied. ‘I know you very well, and I also know you are not as green as you are cabbage-looking, so hurry up and get on that train or it will go without you. You’ll be a seasoned traveller when you get back.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘And take all the time you need,’ Joe said, putting his arms around his brother. ‘Give my love to them all and look after yourself.’
‘I will,’ Tom said. ‘Oh, I will indeed.’
Six days later, with Tom expected home, Gloria told Helen of the strange telegram that had arrived at the cottage.
‘Is that all it said?’
‘Yeah, just that he was unavoidably delayed and he would explain it all in a letter later.’
‘But what on earth can have delayed him?’
Gloria shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. Joe is worried for, as he said, it is just such an odd thing for Tom to do. He will be on tenterhooks until he hears more. He was all for writing to Molly but I said not to. Maybe whatever has delayed Tom has nothing to do with her, or maybe he doesn’t want her to know of it. I’m sure he will write and tell us all as soon as he can.’
However, it was over a week later, with Ben asking every day when his uncle was coming home, that Tom eventually wrote, and Joe was almighty glad that Ben had gone to school by the time Gloria handed him the envelope.
The letter ran to pages and pages, and Gloria watched the colour drain from Joe’s face as he read. At one point he felt for the chair and sat down heavily as if he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him up any longer.
When he finished, the eyes he turned on Gloria were moist.
‘What is it, Joe?’ Gloria asked anxiously.
‘What isn’t it?’ Joe said. ‘You know the life of drugs and prostitution those perverts had mapped out for Molly?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, that has been Aggie’s lot for years,’ Joe said. ‘Tom found her on the streets. Actually, she propositioned him.’
‘Ah, dear God!’
‘Tom has her away from the place now, thank God,’ Joe said. ‘Here, you had best read it for yourself.’
As Gloria read the letter she felt the blood in her veins run cold as she imagined the despair of the young girl arriving in Birmingham to find the woman she had been sent to, the only one able to help her, gone. Tom said she would have perished if it hadn’t been for the kindness of the prostitutes that took her in and cared for her. When salvation of a sort was offered to her by a man called Levingstone, who wanted to marry Aggie despite the fact that she had ‘entertained’ punters in his club, he had been killed by a man named Finch.
Tears were trailing down Gloria’s face as she cried brokenly, ‘Ah, Joe, what this poor girl has suffered all her life and through no fault of her own …’
‘I know,’ Joe said. ‘Two men have tried to destroy Aggie’s whole life – McAllister and this bloody slimy bastard Finch. If you read on, you will find that when Aggie tried to break out of a life of prostitution it was Finch again that abducted her and forced her back onto the streets by filling her full of drink and drugs and then withholding them. I tell you, Gloria, if I have my way he is not going to get away with it.’
Gloria didn’t blame Joe one bit for feeling so angry. Hell, she was angry herself, though she didn’t know the poor woman personally, but for such things to happen to an innocent young girl was almost unbelievable. She remembered the cuttings from the newspaper about Molly, who had been rescued just in time from a fate like Aggie’s, and she felt sick with disgust that such things should go on in a so-called civilised society. Tom at least knew where his duty lay.
I was power
less to prevent Aggie making the headlong dash to Birmingham in 1901, for I was just a boy. Now I feel it is my place to stay here, doing the job I was unable to do then, and that is care for my sister for as long as it takes.
‘Dreadful, isn’t it?’ Joe said.
Gloria nodded dumbly.
‘Obviously he can’t think of coming home just yet.’
‘No,’ said Gloria faintly. She could understand that Tom couldn’t leave until she was better, but how long would that be? And what then? Would he just say goodbye and come home? She shook her head and fought down her panic because she felt as if strands were winding around her, holding her down to the farm for ever.
‘Gloria, is anything the matter?’ Helen asked her friend the following Saturday, as they walked the main street of Buncrana. ‘You seem burdened down with sadness.’
Gloria hesitated. Joe had said that the news in Tom’s letter was family business and that was how it must stay, but surely that didn’t extend to the McEvoys. Jack and Nellie were good friends of Tom, and they knew all about Molly. Tom had even taken them the cuttings from the papers and they had been as horrified as he was. So she said, ‘We got a letter from Tom the day before yesterday.’
‘Did it say why he was delayed?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Gloria said miserably. ‘He explained it all very well and I will tell you because if I don’t tell someone I will go mad. First, though, I must have your solemn promise that you will not breathe a word of it to another soul, apart from your parents and possibly Cathy.’
‘You have that, of course,’ Helen said. ‘The McEvoys are very good at keeping secrets, but it does sound terribly mysterious.’
‘Believe me, the things Tom told us of were not mysterious, they were disgusting and depraved,’ Gloria said. ‘The very night that Tom was booked to come home he found Aggie.’
