A Christmas Wish for the Shipyard Girls

by Nancy Revell

  Quentin had to cancel his trip back up north due to ‘work commitments’.

  Dorothy imparted the news with a comically sad face and theatrical eye-rolling in Angie’s direction.

  ‘Honestly, Dor, it’s not as if I’m pining to see him or owt!’ Angie snapped.

  ‘I never suggested you were,’ Dorothy said, ‘but it’s funny you thought it.’

  Angie chucked her crusts at her best friend by way of a reply.

  Hannah had been noticeably subdued after this latest air raid, and when a concerned Rosie asked if she had heard any news about her parents in the Auschwitz concentration camp, she shook her head, but explained that her aunty Rina had heard that a man called Josef Mengele was being transferred there as a medical officer.

  ‘Isn’t it a good sign that they’ve appointed someone in charge of those who aren’t well?’ Martha asked.

  Hannah had given Martha the most melancholic of smiles and related to the women with tears in her eyes that Dr Mengele was not a good man. Before the war he had published academic papers on those born with genetic abnormalities and he had an unhealthy interest in dwarfs and twins.

  ‘I don’t think he’s a doctor of healing – more of experimentation,’ Hannah said.

  They were deathly quiet. All of them trying to comprehend this level of evil.

  ‘Says here the miners are being asked to increase coal output,’ Angie said, breaking the silence and staring down at the Daily Telegraph. ‘Tell that to my dad ’n his marrers. They hardly see daylight as it is.’

  Polly looked at the article Angie was reading.

  ‘“If the gap between production and consumption is not closed, the war could go against us,”’ she read out.

  ‘That’s all we need to hear,’ Martha said, her broad shoulders slouching a little. She had been working overtime with Jimmy and the riveters.

  ‘If we don’t build enough ships, we’re doomed … If we can’t mine enough coal, we’re doomed,’ Dorothy moaned.

  ‘It’ll be the same for them,’ Rosie said. ‘I’m sure they’ve not got a limitless supply of ships and coal either.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Gloria said, trying to lift the mood, even though she herself felt exhausted. Hope’s cough was still bad.

  Rosie’s own worries about Peter seemed to be weighing on her more heavily than normal. It had been almost six months since she had received her last communication from him – a letter brought to her by Toby on Christmas Eve. Toby, who had recruited Peter, had become her one tenuous connection with her husband. Every time Dorothy saw him, she half hoped for, half dreaded hearing any news. She kept telling herself that no news was good news, but that argument was wearing thin.

  Not that she had too much time to dwell on it, what with the demands of work and, even more so, of Charlie, who was hanging on to Rosie and Lily as though they were life rafts. Lily had said to let her be as clingy as she needed to be – the phase would pass.

  One of the main problems was that Charlotte seemed overly anxious about spending the time between Rosie leaving for work and the start of school on her own. Rosie had a word with Lily and asked, since the bordello didn’t open up shop until after midday and the school was just a few minutes’ walk away, if it would be possible for Charlotte to go to Lily’s for breakfast.

  ‘A perfect solution,’ Lily declared.

  ‘It will mean, though,’ Rosie eyed Lily, ‘that Charlotte turns up on your doorstep at around seven,’ Rosie stressed, ‘when I leave to go to work.’

  ‘I know exactly what time you start work,’ Lily said. ‘Don’t you think I’m capable of getting up so early?’

  Rosie couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘Lily, in all the time we have been acquainted, I’ve never once known you to get out of bed before midday.’

  Lily waved her words away with a heavily jewelled hand and marched off in search of an alarm clock.

  Needless to say, when Rosie told Charlotte of the arrangement, she was ecstatic.

  The following morning, her little sister stood outside the front door, yelling at her that if she didn’t get a move on, Rosie would be late for work, and what kind of an example was that to set her squad?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Friday 28 May

  ‘John, what are you doing here?’ Helen felt her heart start pounding.

  ‘Sorry for just turning up like this …’ Dr Parker stood still in the doorway. Seeing Helen always took his breath away.

  ‘No, no, it’s lovely to see you.’ Helen ushered him in with a wave of her hand. ‘Sit down. Marie-Anne’s just brought in a tea tray.’

  Watching as Dr Parker made his way over to the chair, pushing a stray lock of blond hair away from his eyes, Helen wished she could anaesthetise herself to the attraction she felt for him.

  Pouring out two cups of tea, she forced herself to be calm.

  ‘I had a consultation at Monkwearmouth Hospital,’ Dr Parker said. ‘And as I was on this side of the river, I thought I’d take a chance and see if you were free.’

  ‘Well, you couldn’t have timed it better.’ Helen handed Dr Parker his cup and saucer, hoping he wouldn’t see the slight tremor in her hands.

  She sat down just as the klaxon sounded out.

  ‘Two minutes,’ she said, bobbing back up, smoothing down her dress and hurrying out.

  Dr Parker watched as Helen walked into the main office. She had on a simple but perfectly fitted dark green dress. She looked ravishing, as always.

  ‘Before you dash off,’ she addressed her staff, ‘I just wanted to say thank you for all your hard work. I know you’ve given it your all this week, during a very difficult time, but you’ll be pleased to know, it’s paid off – we’re almost back on schedule.’

  There were a few random claps and joyful exclamations from the staff. Helen spotted Polly’s smiling face near the back of the office. They hadn’t had time to have their usual catch-up this week, but she looked well. Very well.

  ‘So, as promised,’ Helen looked round the room, ‘you’ve all got the whole weekend off and I’ll see you back here Monday morning, rested and refreshed.’

  Not needing further encouragement, everyone started to pack up and leave. Helen went over to have a quick word with Marie-Anne and Bel, before turning and walking back into her office.

  ‘Is that Polly I see loitering by a filing cabinet in the corner, looking like a duck out of water?’ Dr Parker asked as Helen sat back down behind her desk and took a sip of her tea.

  She laughed.

  ‘It is. Although she has made me promise, cross my heart and hope to die, that I will let her go back to welding after the baby’s born.’

  ‘And do you think she’ll want to? Once she’s had the baby?’ Dr Parker looked at Helen. Any kind of baby talk, he knew, was still painful for her; not that she would ever admit it.

  Helen took a cigarette from her packet of Pall Malls. ‘I’m really not sure. I don’t think I’d be inclined to lay a bet either way.’

  Dr Parker put his teacup on Helen’s desk. ‘I feel there’s so much to catch up on.’ He suddenly felt nervous about what he had to say, which was ridiculous.

  ‘I know,’ Helen said, ‘it’s amazing how much can happen in just a couple of weeks.’

  And how much I’ve missed you.

  ‘So, how have you been?’ she asked, lighting up a cigarette.

  ‘Well, like you, by the sounds of it, the hospital’s had a rather hectic couple of weeks – what with these damned air raids. The Royal is really struggling to cope, even though the Ryhope’s taken in quite a few of the injured. And the Monkwearmouth is just about full to the brim now,’ he said, taking a sip of tea.

  They chatted for a little while about the bombings. Dr Parker told Helen about his patients and Helen told him about the injured Denewood and how they had managed to save her twice over.

  ‘Looks like we’ve both been patching up the war wounded,’ Dr Parker said with a smile.

  ‘And has there
been anything else keeping you particularly busy?’ Helen narrowed her eyes and gave Dr Parker a quizzical smile.

  ‘Well, as a matter of fact,’ Dr Parker said, ‘there is.’

  Did she know?

  ‘I’ve started to see Claire. Dr Eris,’ he said. ‘Well, we’ve been out on a few dates – that’s all. Nothing serious.’

  Why was he playing it down? It wasn’t as if Helen would give two jots either way. Would she?

  ‘I have to say, I think it’s about time.’ Helen forced her voice to sound light and jocular. ‘You’ve been single for as long as we’ve known each other.’

  Dr Parker forced a smile.

  If only you knew why.

  ‘And I think you and Claire make a very compatible couple,’ Helen said, surprised at how convincing she sounded.

  ‘Yes, yes, I guess we do.’ Helen was clearly happy for him. As any friend would be. ‘But I don’t want you to feel that we can’t keep the friendship we have.’ He looked at Helen, who was getting up from her desk and picking up her handbag and gas mask.

  ‘Of course not,’ Helen said, another convincing smile. ‘As long as Claire doesn’t mind?’ She was now taking her summer coat off the hatstand.

  ‘No, no, not at all. She’s made a point of saying it’s important for us to remain friends.’

  Helen bit her tongue. And if you believe that, you’d believe anything.

  Dr Parker stood up. ‘Are we going somewhere?’

  ‘Yes,’ Helen said. ‘I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you?’

  As they walked out of the front gates, Helen gave Dr Parker a sidelong glance.

  ‘Actually, I now also have a significant other in my life.’

  Dr Parker looked at Helen, desperately trying to keep at bay the raging green-eyed monster that had just jumped out.

  ‘Really?’

  His mind went to the newspaper article he had read – and, moreover, the photograph printed alongside it.

  ‘It wouldn’t, perchance, be the gentleman you were pictured with in the Echo the other day?’

  Helen laughed. This time it was genuine.

  ‘Matthew Royce?’ Helen chuckled again. ‘Not in a million years. That man’s a charmer and a chancer. The kind that only loves one person. Himself.’

  ‘I’m guessing it was some kind of work engagement?’ Dr Parker asked, trying to sound casual, unaware that they had come to halt by a rather snazzy-looking green sports car.

  ‘Morale booster,’ Helen said, distractedly. ‘There were loads of shipyard bigwigs there. The press always uses pictures of relatively young, preferably good-looking people over a load of balding old men with bellies bigger than Polly’s.’

  Dr Parker was suddenly aware that Helen was looking at him, her eyes wide, and then she stared down at the car in front of them.

  ‘This is it!’ she said, excitedly.

  ‘I’m confused,’ Dr Parker said. His mind was still stewing over the picture in the paper – Helen and this ‘charmer’ Matthew weren’t just young and good-looking, they could have passed as a glamorous Hollywood couple.

  ‘This,’ Helen said, putting her arm out to show off the polished bonnet, ‘is my significant other.’

  Dr Parker let out a bark of laughter. He hoped it hadn’t sounded as desperately relieved as he felt.

  ‘It’s yours?’ he asked.

  ‘It certainly is,’ Helen said, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a set of keys.

  She dangled them in the air.

  ‘Fancy a spin?’

  ‘Do I even need to answer?’ Dr Parker chuckled.

  Helen got in, leant over and opened the passenger door.

  Climbing into the front seat, Dr Parker felt aware of how close he was to Helen. He could smell her perfume and the size of the interior was forcing their shoulders to touch.

  ‘I know it’s rather an extravagance, but,’ Helen looked at Dr Parker and gave him a sombre face, ‘it’s needed for work.’

  Dr Parker looked equally deadpan.

  ‘Of course it is.’

  Neither spoke as Helen drove up the embankment, turning right and driving along Dame Dorothy Street and Harbour View before turning left along Roker Terrace. Feeling a little reckless, she decided to keep going and drive all the way up the coast road past Whitburn village to Souter Lighthouse and then back again. A few times when she changed gear her hand brushed John’s leg. Both of them pretended not to notice.

  Pulling up on Side Cliff Road, outside Helen’s house, Dr Parker turned to look at her. ‘Well, I can honestly say that your driving is one hundred per cent improved.’

  ‘I don’t think it could have been any worse,’ Helen laughed.

  ‘A walk to the Roker Hotel?’ Dr Parker suggested, climbing out of the car.

  As they crossed the road and started to walk down Roker Park Road, Helen automatically linked her arm through John’s, before quickly pulling away.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  Dr Parker looked at her, his brow furrowed.

  ‘It doesn’t seem right,’ Helen explained.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, although he knew exactly what she meant.

  ‘Well, as you are now a “taken” man –’ she gave a nervous laugh ‘– I don’t think it’s appropriate that I … that I manhandle you so.’

  They walked through the main gates of the park and continued in silence for a little while, passing the model boating lake before coming out of the park and strolling down Ravine Terrace.

  ‘So, tell me,’ Dr Parker asked, as they turned right along Roker Terrace, ‘what’s been happening in your life these past few weeks? How are all your shipyard women?’

  ‘They’re all good. Well, as good as can be expected, all things considered. Gloria says Hannah’s worried about the situation over in Poland.’

  Dr Parker nodded grimly. ‘I’m not surprised. She’s right to be.’ One of his colleagues who was Jewish had told him that the Warsaw Ghetto uprising that had started five weeks previously had ended with thousands of Jews being killed, and tens of thousands being sent to concentration camps.

  ‘And how’s Hope?’ he asked, wanting to talk about life, not death.

  ‘She’s got an awful cough. But other than that – and the fact she hasn’t had a cuddle from her father for nearly a year and a half now – she’s fine.’

  Dr Parker could sense that Helen’s chagrin about her father’s banishment was getting worse. He wished he could have put his arm around her and given her a squeeze, as he would have done before.

  ‘Talking about families,’ Dr Parker said, ‘the last time we saw each other you were set to have a chat with Bel and Pearl?’

  ‘Oh,’ Helen groaned. ‘I’ll tell you once we’re sat down and I’ve a vodka and tonic in my hand.’

  ‘That bad?’ Dr Parker said as they reached the main entrance to the Roker Hotel.

  He pulled open the front door and they were hit with a blast of smoky warm air and the smell of spilled beer.

  A quarter of an hour later, Helen had brought Dr Parker up to date.

  ‘It was as you thought all along, wasn’t it?’ Helen said, taking a sip of her drink. ‘But were too polite to say.’

  Dr Parker nodded dolefully.

  It was true. He had thought it was unlikely that Pearl and Mr Havelock had had an affair – and that what had happened had been far from consensual. Just as he’d also wondered if Mr Havelock had gone for young girls who looked like his daughters.

  ‘And how are you coping with all this?’ he asked.

  Seeing Helen reach for another cigarette, he wanted to put his hand on hers and stop her – to hold her hand and give her the comfort she was seeking.

  ‘Honestly,’ Helen said, pulling out a cigarette, ‘you’ve clearly been spending too much time with Dr Eris.’ She forced a smile, silently cursing herself for bringing the conversation back to Claire.

  ‘No, seriously!’ Dr Parker asked again.

  ‘Oh, I’m fine
,’ Helen said. ‘The shock is slowly sinking in. And funnily enough, Bel and I seem to have forged a friendship out of it all.’

  ‘I did wonder,’ John said, taking a sip of his bitter, ‘when Marie-Anne told me you had taken Bel to a launch at Pickersgill’s …’

  It was on the tip of Helen’s tongue to ask why he hadn’t returned her call, but she didn’t. Instead, she told him how she and Bel had chatted properly for the first time about her grandfather, and how Bel and Mr Havelock had met for the first time at the launch.

  ‘How do you think Bel feels about all of this? Do you think she wants to do anything about it?’ Dr Parker asked.

  Helen shook her head. ‘Doubtful. Like Bel says, who’s going to believe Pearl’s word over my grandfather’s? I mean the man’s practically hero-worshipped in these parts.’ She paused. ‘I, on the other hand, would love to do something.’

  Dr Parker smiled. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me.’

  ‘But I couldn’t,’ Helen said. ‘If anything is said or done, it’s going to have to be Bel’s decision. And she’s said that, for now, we should just keep what we know to ourselves.’

  ‘And what would you do if you could?’

  Helen looked at Dr Parker.

  ‘I’d use it to get Dad back,’ she said, her words spoken without hesitation.

  ‘Really?’ Dr Parker said. Helen had clearly given this some thought.

  ‘I’d use it to cancel out the bartering chips Mother has over Gloria and Father.’

  Dr Parker knew about the women’s secrets and how they were being used to keep Jack on the Clyde.

  ‘So that your father and Gloria can finally be together.’ Dr Parker smiled. ‘Underneath that hard, no-nonsense exterior, you really are a romantic at heart.’

  Helen laughed out loud.