Victory for the East End Angels

by Rosie Hendry

  Stefan smiled – this time it reached his eyes. ‘Yes, that is very good thing.’

  Chapter 54

  Breakfast time at Station 75 was usually a cheery affair, unless it followed a sleep-deprived night punctuated with call-outs or air raids. Fortunately, last night had been a quiet one and everyone was on good form this morning having had a reasonable night’s sleep. Now, with just an hour and a half of the shift left to go before they could all go home, there was a hum of chatter as everyone ate their breakfast.

  Frankie took a mouthful of porridge, enjoying its comforting warmth on this cold March morning. Her grandad always used to say porridge stuck to your insides and not only warmed you up but filled you up and kept you going all morning. She thought of him whenever she had a bowl of it and loved the way it gave her physical warmth and strength, as well as providing that emotional link to her grandfather; it was food for the body and soul.

  ‘What have you got planned for today?’ Bella asked, as she scraped a thin layer of margarine over her toast.

  ‘The usual: a bit of shopping and housework, hoping the postman will bring a letter from Alastair.’ Frankie smiled. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I’m packing POW parcels this afternoon, and I want to—’ Bella stopped talking as the telephone in Station Officer Steele’s office began to ring, its shrill sound making all the crew fall silent in an instant.

  The boss, who’d been helping herself to some toast from the pile, abandoned her plate and hurried into her office and snatched up the receiver. Going by the little she said into it, something they’d seen and heard countless times over the years, Frankie knew it was a call-out. Winnie, who was sitting opposite her, caught her eye and was clearly thinking the same thing.

  The atmosphere subtly changed as the crew waited on tenterhooks to see who would be sent out to attend; call-outs at this time in a shift were never popular as the chances were that they would overrun into the next shift – once the crew had been sent out, it was their responsibility to stay until the job was done, no matter if it was past their usual finishing time. Nobody wanted to have to go now.

  Station Officer Steele appeared in the doorway of her office. ‘Sparky, Paterson, Winnie, Rose, Bella and Frankie, this job’s for you.’ She didn’t elaborate but went back inside her office to write out the necessary chits.

  Frankie looked at Winnie who shrugged, grabbed the piece of toast she’d just spread with a thin layer of jam and got up from the table. ‘Come on, you lot, we need to go.’

  ‘Bleedin’ heck!’ Sparky downed the remains of his tea in a couple of gulps and followed. ‘Must be a big one to send all of us.’

  ‘If you want to drive, I’ll get our chit,’ Bella said.

  Frankie nodded and headed for the door, following behind Winnie and Sparky, with Trixie at their heels.

  ‘Where to?’ Frankie said a few minutes later when Bella climbed into the ambulance.

  ‘Hughes Mansions, Vallance Road in Stepney.’

  Frankie’s hand froze on the gearstick for a moment at the word ‘Stepney’. Any incident they were sent to in her home area always sent an icy shiver down her spine, because a rocket or bomb falling a few seconds earlier or later could so easily have landed on Matlock Street.

  ‘Do you know it?’

  ‘Yes.’ She put the ambulance in gear and, following behind Winnie, with Sparky at the front of the convoy, drove out through the arched passageway onto the Minories. ‘It’s an estate with three separate blocks of flats. If a rocket’s hit one, there’ll be a lot of casualties, especially at this time of the day with people still at home before going out to work. No wonder they’ve sent three ambulances from here. It’s not even in our normal patch, so you know what that means . . . ’

  They fell into uneasy silence as they drove along. Frankie had attended enough V2 rocket incidents now to know the destruction that the weapons brought. Instead, she focused her thoughts on her driving, preferring to deal with what she was doing rather than dwell on what they were going to find.

  Arriving at Vallance Road, Frankie parked the ambulance at the side of the street, pulling in behind Winnie and Rose. Over to their right was the remains of what had once been the three blocks that made up the Hughes Mansions housing estate. The middle one was almost completely gone, with just the far end still standing; the rest of it had crumbled into a huge pile of debris, while the two remaining blocks had been severely damaged by the blast, windows and doors blown in, which now gaped like empty eye sockets staring out. Frankie felt sick. How many people had been in the middle block, eating their breakfast, like they had been back at Station 75, getting ready to go out to work? They wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  ‘Do you think anyone’s alive in there?’ Bella asked.

  ‘Perhaps. Let’s ’ope so.’

  Outside, with stretchers ready, they hurried over to wait for more injured to be freed – the ones who had already been dug out were being attended to by ambulance crews that had arrived earlier. The firemen who were working to free those still trapped were being hampered by distraught people clambering about on the piles of rubble in a frenzy, looking for their relatives and friends.

  ‘Get off!’ bellowed the chief fireman who’d just arrived.

  ‘My family’s in there!’ a woman screamed back at him. ‘I’m only tryin’ to ’elp.’

  ‘Your weight is crushin’ down on anyone trapped, so get off now!’

  His message got through to some of them, but others had to be led away from the rubble, still protesting. The chief quickly organised rope barriers to be set up, preventing any more members of the public from coming in to dig.

  ‘You can’t blame ’em for wanting to do something,’ Frankie said, looking at the despair and helplessness on the faces of those who’d been evicted from the site and now stood huddled in groups watching and waiting.

  Bella tucked her arm through Frankie’s. ‘I know, but the firemen and rescue services know what they’re talking about and how to do it safely.’

  It was a grim sight watching and waiting; far more people were being pulled out dead than were being found alive and the ambulance crews helped carry them straight to waiting mortuary vans rather than their ambulances. Frankie and Bella had just delivered one unfortunate victim to a van when Rose came hurrying over to them, her face pale.

  ‘Frankie, you need to come.’ Rose grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her over to where Winnie stood beside a stretcher bearing another recovered body.

  ‘What’s the matter? What’s—’ Frankie began but stopped as they drew near and she saw the face of the dead woman, instantly recognising it despite the covering of grey dust. It was Ivy.

  It was as if she had been drenched in a pail of freezing cold water. She began to shake as she stared at the icy-blue eyes that looked sightlessly up at the sky, eyes that had so many times in the past fixed their steely glare on her but would now never do that again. She kneeled by Ivy’s body and gently closed the older woman’s eyelids, shutting off the blank stare.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Bella said, kneeling beside her and putting her arm around Frankie’s shoulders.

  Frankie nodded and turned to her friend, and then looked up at Winnie and Rose who were looking sympathetically at her. ‘What was she doing ’ere? If she’d have been at home in Matlock Street, then she’d still be alive.’

  ‘Mind your backs!’ Two rescue workers carrying a stretcher bearing another dead body came over to them and placed it down next to Ivy. ‘Can you see to it that he’s taken to the mortuary van?’ one of them asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Winnie said.

  ‘It’s Micky Chandler!’ Frankie stared at the dead man’s face.

  ‘We found ’im not far from ‘er.’ The rescue service man nodded at Ivy. ‘Must have been in the same flat when the rocket hit. You know ‘er as well?’

  Frankie nodded.

  ‘Well, write out a label for both of them, will you? That’ll help with identifying all the victim
s.’ He touched the brim of his steel helmet and headed back to the rubble for more survivors or, more likely, bodies.

  ‘I’ll write them.’ Bella fished in her bag and took out the labels that they used to identify the casualties they took to hospital, clearly writing Ivy’s and Micky Chandler’s names on them.

  ‘She must have stayed the night with ’im.’ Frankie knew that her step-grandmother stayed out all night sometimes, but she had had no idea where she was. Ivy had said that she wanted to enjoy herself because you never knew what was around the corner for you in wartime, but ironically doing just that had led her here and into the path of the V2. To Frankie’s surprise, her eyes filled with tears and she began to cry.

  ‘Here, take this.’ Winnie handed her a clean handkerchief and gently pulled Frankie to her feet and wrapped her arms around her.

  ‘I don’t know why I’m crying.’ Frankie’s voice came out croaky. ‘We didn’t get on, we ’ardly spoke and I . . . didn’t like her, but I never would ’ave wanted this to happen to her. She should ’ave had years of life left to live, but look at her.’

  ‘I know, those bloody rockets!’ Winnie said.

  ‘You’re in shock.’ Bella gently rubbed Frankie’s back. ‘You might not have had a good relationship with Ivy, but she lived in the same house as you, she was married to your grandad and part of your family. You had a connection with her and a history, and because of the person you are, Frankie, it’s only natural that you are feeling the way you are.’

  Winnie put her hands on Frankie’s shoulders and looked at her. ‘You need to go back to Station 75 and the boss can send out another crew. Will you take Frankie back, Bella?’

  ‘No! I need to stay ’ere in case there’s casualties that need to get to hospital,’ Frankie protested.

  ‘I’ve never done this before, but I’m going to pull rank on you, Frankie. As Deputy Station Officer, I’m ordering you back to Station 75. There are enough ambulance crews here to cope, and most of the work is carrying bodies to the mortuary van anyway.’ She nodded towards Sparky and Paterson, who were carrying another recently recovered body to the waiting van.

  ‘Come on.’ Bella put her arm through Frankie’s. ‘You’re in no fit state to be here.’

  Frankie looked down at Ivy. ‘What about her?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Rose and I will see her safely into the mortuary van, you just need to go back to Station 75 and then it will soon be time to go home.’

  ‘I’ll take you home and stay with you,’ Bella said.

  ‘And Rose and I will be along as soon as we can,’ Winnie added.

  Frankie nodded. ‘Thank you.’ She suddenly felt exhausted, her emotions strung out taut, and having her dear friends around her was what she needed.

  ‘Cooee! Only me,’ Josie’s voice called from the hall, making Frankie jump. She and Bella hadn’t been home very long, just time enough to boil the kettle and brew tea, and they were now sitting at the table with cups of tea in front of them.

  Bella stood up. ‘Do you want me to tell her not to come in?’

  Frankie shook her head. ‘It’s fine. Ask her in.’ She’d be glad to see her friend, she thought, as Bella went to meet her in the hall. Josie’s innate radar for knowing when something was up in Matlock Street had worked again and, if she knew about what had happened, she could help to spread the news to the rest of the inhabitants of the street.

  Cradling her cup of tea in her hands, she could hear a whispered conversation going on out in the hall, no doubt Bella telling Josie what had happened.

  ‘Oh, ducks!’ Josie came hurrying into the kitchen a few moments later and pulled Frankie to her feet, wrapping her meaty arms around her and hugging her tightly. ‘I’m so sorry. I know you and Ivy didn’t see eye to eye but for this to happen to her ain’t right.’

  ‘If she’d been here, like she should ’ave been, she’d still be alive,’ Frankie said.

  Josie loosened her arms enough to step back so that she could look Frankie in the eye. ‘It ain’t no good thinking about ifs – she was there because that’s where she wanted to be, out enjoying herself, but it’s a pity it put her in the path of a V2 rocket . . . ’ She shrugged. ‘Ivy weren’t an easy woman to live with, but no one would ’ave wanted that ending for her.’

  Frankie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I didn’t like her, and I often wished she’d move out of here, but I never wanted her dead.’

  ‘Course you didn’t, ducks. You ain’t got nothing to feel bad about; you were patient, kind and long-suffering, you put up with Ivy’s contrary ways for far longer than most people could ’ave done. She lived her life the way she wanted to and died doing it. Right, get that tea down you. Is there any left in the pot, Bella?’ Josie guided Frankie back into her seat at the table and pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

  ‘Do you want a spoonful of sugar, for the shock?’ Bella asked, pouring a cup of tea out of the brown earthenware teapot.

  Josie nodded. ‘I’d better, thanks, ducks. I never expected this to ’appen to Ivy.’

  ‘At least she wouldn’t have known anything about it,’ Bella said. ‘It would have been quick.’

  ‘I’m glad my kiddies ain’t here. I miss them every moment of the day but rather that than the risk of one of them blasted V2s dropping on them.’ Josie took a sip of tea. ‘And your Stanley as well.’

  Frankie nodded. As hard as it had been to make the decision to evacuate him to the countryside back in the autumn of 1940, she’d never regretted sending him there for his safety. Now she and Stanley were the only ones left of her family that had been living here at the start of the war.

  ‘Let’s hope we don’t get many more of these rockets aimed at us,’ Bella said. ‘At least with the Allies now capturing the launch sites there’s less opportunity for the Nazis to fire them.’

  Chapter 55

  Winnie and Rose had arrived at Frankie’s house and they were all tucking into some Spam sandwiches that Bella had made, when there was a loud knocking on the front door.

  Frankie stood up, but Winnie put a hand on her arm to stop her. ‘You stay there, I’ll go, you need some peace and quiet.’

  Frankie didn’t protest and carried on eating a sandwich, listening when Winnie answered the door. She could hear a man’s deep voice but not clearly enough to hear what he said. A few moments later Winnie appeared in the kitchen doorway accompanied by three policemen.

  ‘Sergeant Jeffries!’ Frankie instantly recognised the oldest of the three, who’d been a colleague and good friend of her grandad’s.

  ‘Miss Franklin.’ His face looked strained. ‘I’m sorry to have to do this ’cos of your grandad, but we’re here because of black-market goings-on in this house. I’m going to ’ave to ask you to come down to the station with me, and Ivy, if she’s ’ere, or we’ll go and pick her up at work.’

  Frankie stared at him for a few seconds but before she could say anything, Winnie leapt to her defence.

  ‘If you think Miss Franklin has anything to do with the black market you are very much mistaken.’

  ‘Our very reliable sources tell us that black-market goods are available from this house.’ Sergeant Jeffries’ neck had turned red from embarrassment. ‘It’s best to come quietly.’

  Frankie felt sick. Had Ivy been more deeply involved with the black market than just a bit of extra butter and bacon? ‘I don’t know anything about it, it ain’t nothing to do with me and if you want to ask Ivy you can’t now cos she’s dead.’

  Sergeant Jeffries looked shocked. ‘Dead? How?’

  ‘She was killed in a V2 hit on Hughes Mansions this morning. Looks like she was at Micky Chandler’s flat with him. He was killed too,’ Frankie explained.

  The policeman nodded. ‘I’m sorry to hear that in more ways than one. Your grandad wouldn’t ’ave been happy her knockin’ about with Chandler. He was mixed up in the black-market business, right up to his ears.’ He paused. ‘The fact remains that black-market activities have been happeni
ng in this house and, with Ivy gone, it’s just you here. You’re responsible.’

  ‘But I ain’t! It ain’t nothing to do with me, honestly,’ Frankie protested, her heart thudding hard. What had Ivy done? She might be dead, but she’d gone and left a mess and now Frankie was being dragged into it.

  ‘Frankie has nothing to do with any black marketing,’ Rose said, her pale cheeks flushing. ‘I should know.’

  Sergeant Jeffries turned his attention to Rose, looking down at her sitting at the table from his lofty height. ‘And who might you be?’

  ‘My name’s Rose and I lodge here with Frankie. If there was any black marketing goings-on I would have seen it. And I haven’t, not while we’re here.’

  Frankie put her head in her hands, leaning her elbows on the table. ‘But we ain’t here all the time, are we? We work shifts, twenty-four hours on, twenty-four off. We don’t know what Ivy gets up . . . got up to while we were at work, did we?’ She looked up at the older policeman. ‘If she was up to no good, then she did it when we weren’t here. I honestly didn’t have anything to do with it, I didn’t know anything about it. I wouldn’t have anything to do with that dirty dealing, I’m working for the war effort.’

  ‘Frankie has put herself in danger countless times out in raids,’ Winnie said, her hands on her hips. ‘Would someone who did that get involved with black-market goods? Besides, her grandfather was a policeman like you!’

  Sergeant Jeffries looked uncomfortable. ‘We’ll need to search the house for evidence, start—’ He stopped as a loud hammering began on the front door. ‘Are you expecting anyone?’

  Frankie shook her head.

  ‘Get it, see who it is,’ he instructed.