by Nancy Revell
‘It is – they’ve gone to Vera’s café up on High Street East.’ Angie paused. ‘Anyway, how did yer knar the brewery had been hit? I thought yer were in London?’
‘I am,’ Quentin said, ‘but we got news of it earlier down the wires.’
Angie was quiet. She would have liked to ask what ‘down the wires’ meant and why it was he was working today. She thought he was a clerical worker, like Bel, and would, therefore, be exempt from working Sundays.
‘So, you’re all OK? Dorothy all right?’ Quentin asked.
‘Aye, Dor’s fine. Mind you, it was like trying to raise the dead last night. I swear she would have slept through the whole raid. I had to practically shake her awake.’
She heard Quentin chuckling.
‘Oh, ’n thanks fer leaving us the ginger nuts ’n the bottle of pop.’
‘Did you feel safe under the Morrison shelter?’ Quentin had got an indoor shelter, which was basically a steel table, delivered to his flat. He’d removed one side of the wire mesh and reinforced the top of the table with an extra layer of steel, then tied four gas masks to each leg, adding blankets, quilts and cushions for extra comfort.
‘It was that cosy, we had to practically drag Mrs Kwiatkowski out!’ Angie laughed. ‘Me ’n Dor said it was like being a bairn again – yer knar, when yer make a den.’
Quentin said he did, although he didn’t add that he himself had never been allowed to indulge in such childish behaviour as a boy.
‘And Mrs Kwiatkowski was singing yer praises, saying yer were “very kind and thoughtful” and that yer’d make someone a good husband.’ Angie hooted down the phone. ‘I said yer’ll have to gan out more if yer want to find yerself a wife.’
Quentin was quiet and Angie heard voices in the background.
‘Sounds busy there?’
‘It is, but I’m back up the week after next. Just for a couple of days. I thought you might like to have a trip to the museum. I could tell you about some of the oil paintings in there. Introduce you to a few old masters. And then we can go to the Palatine, seeing as the Continental no longer exists.’
Quentin had been going on about taking Angie to the Continental Hotel on the corner of St Thomas’ Street for a posh meal since February, but it seemed as though there had been one obstacle after another preventing them making it there, and then in March it had been bombed.
‘It’s a bit posh,’ Angie said little nervously.
‘No more than the Continental once was.’
‘All right then, yer on,’ Angie said, before quickly adding, ‘as long as it’s not on a Saturday. Dor will go berserk if I dinnit gan to the Ritz with her.’
Chapter Six
Dr Eris smiled as she walked through the entrance to the Ryhope Emergency Hospital. She had put on a pair of cream-coloured slacks and a silk blouse that she kept for special occasions. It was mild enough to go without a coat. Besides, it would also be an excuse for John to give her his coat later on, or better still, for him to put his arm around her to keep her warm while they walked home.
Dr Parker was standing a few yards away from the main reception desk. He had got there earlier than the time he had agreed upon to meet with Dr Eris in the hope of being able to use the phone. As it was, Denise the receptionist was having a lengthy conversation, and from the snippets he had picked up, it was a social call rather than hospital business. Still, he felt it would have been rude to pull rank and ask her to ring off so that he could use the phone for a call that was also personal.
Seeing Dr Eris approach, Dr Parker walked over and gave her a kiss on both cheeks.
‘You look lovely,’ he said.
Dr Eris put her hands in her pockets and tilted her head slightly.
‘Thank you, John. It’s nice to have an excuse to wear something other than my work suit.’
Dr Parker glanced over at Denise, who was still chatting away and didn’t look anywhere near winding up her conversation.
‘I was just going to call Helen, make sure she’s all right after the air raid last night. I’m sure it’s totally unnecessary to worry, but she normally rings here after we’ve had a raid and as far as I know she’s not left any messages.’
‘Oh, she’s fine,’ Dr Eris said with a smile. ‘I bumped into her earlier on.’
‘Really? I wonder what she was doing there?’ Dr Parker said.
‘She was with a young woman – Bel, I think her name was.’ Dr Eris knew not to volunteer too much information. If John wanted to think that Helen had come to the asylum for reasons other than to see him, then so be it.
‘Oh, yes, Bel, she’s her …’ Dr Parker hesitated, thinking of the recent revelation that Bel was Helen’s aunt, which was strange as they were about the same age.
‘Friend? Work colleague?’ Dr Eris said.
‘Yes, both, I believe.’
Dr Parker looked at his watch. It was gone six o’clock; she would probably have left work by now. Still, he could possibly catch her at home.
He looked at Dr Eris.
What was he thinking? This attractive and intelligent woman was standing here, waiting to go out with him for the evening, and he was obsessing over Helen – who might also be attractive and intelligent, but she had no interest in going out with him other than as mere friends. When was he going to give up hoping that Helen might be in love with him?
‘Well then,’ Dr Parker said, putting out his arm, ‘shall we go?’
As he did so, Denise finally ended her conversation and hung up.
‘Oh, Gloria, I feel such a fool,’ Helen said. ‘I even found myself waiting for his call at work after everyone had gone. We always speak after an air raid. I was sure he’d call. I waited until way after six. The place was practically deserted. Just me and Winston. How sad is that. Me and just the cat for company.’
Gloria bristled as she poured their tea. The ginger moggy always reminded her of the night she and Hope had nearly died, and of her old friend Mrs Crabtree, who would still be in the land of the living if she hadn’t gone looking for that damned cat.
‘I suppose,’ Gloria said, handing Helen her tea, ‘if this Dr Eris woman told him she’d seen you, he would have known you were all right.’
‘I suppose,’ Helen agreed, looking at Hope, who was pushing her bobbed black hair behind her ears as she sat on the rug and played with her dollies. ‘And I also suppose I’m going to have to get used to the fact that John will be spending time with his new sweetheart. And not me.’
Gloria nestled back in her chair with her cup of tea balanced on her bosom; she had half an eye on Hope. ‘What I don’t understand is that in the space of twenty-four hours yer went from having yer mind made up to just keeping Dr Parker as a friend to suddenly deciding to declare yer feelings to him.’
Helen sighed heavily. ‘I know. I don’t know if it was lying awake, thinking too much during that bloody air raid, or—’
‘Or what yer found out about yer grandda?’ Gloria volunteered. She too had thought a lot last night after Helen had come over and told her that her grandfather had raped Pearl and fathered Bel. She kept thinking how one vile, violent act could have such far-reaching repercussions, not just back then, but now, more than a quarter of a century later.
‘I think on some level it might have,’ Helen conceded. She let out a bitter laugh. ‘I’m sure Dr Eris would have something to say on the matter. She’d probably say that having the rug pulled out from under my feet left me feeling unstable and grasping for the nearest lifeboat. Either that or the air raid left me feeling I had to grab life – or rather, John – and make the most of what little time might be left.’
Gloria took a sip of her tea.
‘I think yer missed your vocation.’
Helen let out rather an exasperated laugh.
‘I think I missed the boat. That’s for sure.’
Seeing Hope push herself up from the floor, having abandoned her toys, Helen reached out and lifted her little sister onto her lap.
‘Which, I have to add,’ she said, putting her arms round Hope, who was now curling up and sucking her thumb, ‘is probably a blessing in disguise.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Gloria put her cup and saucer on the coffee table.
‘Well, it would have been a bit embarrassing, wouldn’t it? I can just imagine the scene now. “Oh, I’m awfully sorry, Helen. You seem to have misread the situation.”’ Helen deepened her voice. Gloria thought she did a good impression of Dr Parker – posh but not plum in the mouth. ‘“But I’m afraid a woman who no longer has her virtue – and who got herself pregnant into the bargain – would not be someone I’d want to court.”’
Helen exhaled heavily.
‘Let’s face it, Gloria, any man in his right mind wouldn’t want someone else’s cast-off. Men in John’s position want the first prize, not sloppy seconds. Or as my darling mother would say, they don’t want someone who’s sullied.’
‘I think yer right in that a lot of men might think like that, but I’d be really surprised if that’s what Dr Parker believes.’ Gloria was quiet for a moment. ‘I don’t know what to say, Helen, but I still think it’s a shame yer didn’t get to speak to him about how yer felt.’
‘Well, I’m glad I didn’t,’ Helen said, her tone definite. ‘I don’t think I can stand any more humiliation in my life.’
Neither of them mentioned Theo by name, but they were both thinking of the man who had lied and manipulated his way into Helen’s life, then left her pregnant after running back to his also pregnant wife and their children.
‘I think it’s this little one’s bedtime,’ Gloria said. ‘If yer read her a story, I’ll make us a fresh brew.’
Ten minutes later, Helen was back on the sofa, sipping a cup of hot tea.
‘I’m guessing you rang Dad this morning before you came into work.’
‘Yes,’ Gloria said, looking at Helen. ‘I phoned him before dropping off Hope. I thought, if she can’t see her daddy, she might as well hear his voice at the very least.’
‘And how did it go?’
‘Well, I said “Daddy” a lot ’n pointed at the phone, then I got Jack to speak ’n put the receiver to her ear.’
‘Do you think it meant anything to her?’ Helen asked. She had no idea if a toddler, just shy of two years old, could make any sense of the fact that her daddy, whom she had only ever seen when she was a very small baby, was the voice coming out of what she probably perceived to be a toy.
‘It’s doubtful,’ Gloria sighed, ‘but I think it meant the world to Jack. And it did to me. I know it sounds stupid, but it felt like the three of us were together for the first time in …’ Gloria thought for a moment ‘… one year, four months – and nine days.’
‘Oh, Gloria, I do feel it for you,’ Helen said.
Gloria waved it away. ‘I can’t complain – compared to others I’m lucky. First off, I got a letter from Gordon and Bobby the other day, secondly, I’ve not been bombed out of my home, and thirdly, I can speak regularly with the man I love, who might be stuck up in Scotland for what feels like eternity, but at least he’s not on the front line risking life ’n limb. Look at poor Polly. I think I’d go doolally if I was in her shoes, knowing the man she married at Christmas is back swimming round in foreign seas, pulling explosives off the bottoms of boats.’
Helen nodded.
‘And as for Rosie,’ Gloria continued, ‘I don’t think she has any idea whether Peter is alive or dead.’
They both drank their tea.
‘But it still feels unnecessary,’ Helen said. ‘Dad being banished to the Clyde.’
She thought Gloria looked tired, which wasn’t surprising as she had now done a sevenday shift, been up half the night in a cold, damp Anderson shelter, no doubt trying to keep Hope calm, all the while hearing bombs being dropped round their ears.
‘Going to war is necessary,’ Helen said, ‘but Dad having to work in the Lithgows yard rather than one here – and being banned from coming home – is totally unnecessary. Keeping him from his daughter is unnecessary.’ She pursed her lips. ‘It’s not good, a child growing up without her father. It’s not fair on Hope. She’s the innocent in all of this.’
‘Well,’ Gloria said, ‘there’s nothing we can do about that. Your mother’s still got a hold over us.’
They were quiet for a moment, thinking of the day, as Gloria had just said, one year, four months and nine days ago, when Miriam had summoned Gloria to the house while Jack was there and told them she knew of their affair and, worse still, about their illegitimate child. Helen had eaves-dropped as her mother had blackmailed Jack and Gloria, relaying to them various secrets belonging to the women welders that, should they ever be revealed, would not only ruin their lives, but might also put them in grave danger.
There had been nothing Gloria or Jack could do but agree to Miriam’s terms: Jack would leave that afternoon, going by train to Scotland to work in one of the shipyards on the Clyde – never to come back.
Gloria had ended up confiding in Rosie, telling her about Dorothy’s mum’s bigamy, Angela’s mam’s bit on the side, and Martha’s monster of a mother, hung for poisoning her own children. It had helped to confide in someone she could trust, but they had both agreed there was nothing they could do. They were powerless. Jack’s exile to the Clyde was non-negotiable.
‘But, you know,’ Helen perked up, ‘Rosie’s squad aren’t the only ones with skeletons in their cupboards, are they?’
‘Yer thinking about your grandda?’
Helen nodded.
‘Do yer think Miriam knows?’
‘I don’t know, but I intend to find out.’
Chapter Seven
Tuesday 18 May
‘What’s that?’ Gloria asked.
‘It’s a leaflet Jerry dropped during the raid,’ Angie said.
Gloria took the leaflet and started to read.
‘Where did you get it from?’ Martha asked, looking over Gloria’s shoulder.
‘Marie-Anne brought it in this morning. She wants it back, mind yer – said she had to pay a penny for it. The money’s gannin to the Red Cross. She showed it to Bel, who showed it to Polly, who gave it to me ’n Dor,’ explained Angie.
Marie-Anne was Helen’s secretary and Bel’s immediate boss, and her curly auburn hair, sea-blue eyes, fair, freckled face and lilting accent left no one in doubt of her Irish ancestry.
‘Apparently she said there were loads of these leaflets showered all over the town,’ Dorothy said. ‘I’m surprised we didn’t see any.’
‘That’s ’cos all we’ve been seeing the past couple of days is molten metal – that’s all I see, even when I close my eyes.’
‘Talking of eyesight,’ Rosie butted in, ‘have you been changing your protective lenses when you should?’
‘Mmm, I think so,’ Angie said.
‘The days just seem to be merging into one another,’ Dorothy added.
‘Well, no need to take any unnecessary risks – we’ll all have a walk over to the stores later. I don’t want anyone getting arc eye, and not just because it’s horrendous, but because I can’t have any of you off ill. Not with us being a man down.’ Losing Polly had taken its toll, but Rosie was still holding off taking on another worker as it would mean training them, which, in turn, would mean they’d be two workers down.
‘“Why the British government says nothing about shipping losses.”’ Gloria read out the headline of the leaflet. ‘“To be told the truth about the state of the battle of the seas would shake the belief in British naval supremacy and ultimate victory …” Blimey, you want to see all the ships it says they’ve sunk over the past two years.’ Gloria looked up to see that a tired-looking Hannah and an equally jaded-looking Olly had turned up. She moved her chair to make room for the pair to join them.
‘Yer all dinnit believe that load of codswallop, do yer?’ Everyone turned round to see Muriel, the head dinner lady, standing with a cloth in her hand. ‘It’s what they call propagand
a,’ she said with the utmost authority. ‘Nazi propaganda, to make us all disheartened and demoralised –’n by the looks on all yer ugly mugs, they’ve succeeded.’
For once, Rosie was glad Muriel had been earwigging on their conversation.
‘So it’s not true?’ Martha said.
‘Nah, like I said, load of claptrap. They’re dumping leaflets like this all over the country according to my Brian.’ The women knew of, but had never met, Muriel’s put-upon husband. ‘He says the fact they’re having to resort to dropping a load of leaflets full of lies on us means our boys have got them running scared.’ She looked at Gloria. They both had sons at sea.
Catching the look, Dorothy agreed. ‘Yes, I can believe that. Makes sense. Desperate measures.’ She wasn’t so sure, though. The U-boats had been a huge thorn in the Allies’ backside. And the women themselves knew more than most the pressure they were under to keep replacing the ships being sunk. ‘Come on then, let’s read some proper news, not made-up stories courtesy of Herr Hitler.’
The women started rooting around in their bags, pulling out a variety of newspapers they had brought for their ‘current affairs classes’.
‘So,’ Dorothy continued, spreading out a copy of the Daily Mail, ‘I couldn’t see much about anything happening in the Atlantic or the Mediterranean.’
She looked up to see Polly arriving.
‘Just in time, Pol. Pull up a chair … No, pull up two!’ She laughed at her own joke. Everyone else tutted.
‘I’m not that big,’ Polly said in mock outrage; the truth was, the bigger she got the happier she felt. She wouldn’t admit to anyone how much her near miscarriage had shaken her up, but the whole terrifying drama had left her needing to know that her baby was growing. She just wished she could skip forward to when the baby was due in mid-September.
‘I believe the main news of the day,’ Angie perked up, her copy of the Daily Telegraph taking up half the table, ‘is this “bouncing bomb” raid.’
