by Rosie Hendry
Paterson, who was leading Station Officer Steele around their dance floor, winked at Bella as they passed by.
Bella hadn’t realised that they’d ground to a halt and, grinning at Stefan, she put her hand back on his shoulder and they began to dance again, losing themselves in the joy of the music and being together.
Later, after the gramophone records had been changed many times as the crew enjoyed dancing so much, the music was stopped for a short while so that everyone could get some refreshment. They’d had fun letting their hair down while still being on duty and were grateful for the urn of tea and some carrot buns organised by Mrs Connelly.
‘Bella, I would like talk to you. Can we go somewhere quiet?’ Stefan asked after he drained his teacup, his face serious.
Now the war was over, had he changed his mind about going back to Poland? He loved his country so much, perhaps he was willing to live with the new regime there after all. The thought settled in her stomach like a heavy stone: the idea of not seeing him again, of being without him, was too much to comprehend. ‘Yes, what do you want to talk to me about?’
‘Not tell you here.’
‘All right, we could take a walk down to the river, but I’ll need to ask the boss first.’
Station Officer Steele was happy for Bella to leave the station for half an hour and, as they walked down past the Tower of London, she wondered what Stefan wanted to talk about.
Stefan waited until they reached the wall overlooking the river, where the tide was in, lapping up to the edge. He looked out across the water for a moment and then turned to her, taking both of her hands in his and meeting her eyes. ‘Bella, I want ask you if you will marry me, be my wife?’
She stared at him for a few moments, the dread of him saying he was going back to Poland evaporating and her heart somersaulting.
He suddenly looked worried. ‘You not like that I ask?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m surprised. I never expected you to ask me that.’
‘You know I fall in love with you.’ Stefan gently touched her cheek. ‘I would like spend my life with you.’
‘And I love you, Stefan, so very much . . . ’ She paused and smiled at him, because she didn’t need to think about what to say as her heart and head were shouting out the answer in unison. ‘Yes, I would love to marry you!’
Tears filled Stefan’s eyes. ‘I promise with all my heart I always look after you, Bella. You make me so happy.’ He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly.
Bella leaned against his chest, her heart brimming with happiness.
Chapter 63
Frankie looked out across the London rooftops. It was dark now, but the city’s evening skyline had undergone a miraculous change: after more than five years of blackout, tonight the city was aglow. Lights shone out from windows and doorways now freed of their blackout restrictions, bonfires were burning and the beam of searchlights that had been used to pick out enemy bombers overhead now shone upwards in a huge V for Victory shape. It was as if London had come out of hiding and was celebrating the victory in Europe with an outpouring of light after so many years of darkness.
Sitting on the flat roof of Station 75, Frankie could hear laughter and music coming from the courtyard below where their dance floor was still alive. The crew were determined to enjoy themselves on this momentous day, making up for not being able to join in the celebrations that they’d heard were going on in the centre of London around Trafalgar Square and Buckingham Palace. She’d joined in for a while but had felt the need for some quiet time on her own.
Frankie leaned back against the chimney stack and closed her eyes, thinking about how her life had changed since the start of the war. She’d lost her grandad – the hole his absence left in her life still felt huge and she would never stop missing him; his loss made today bittersweet. She was glad the war was over but couldn’t forget what it had cost her. She doubted she was the only one who must be feeling this way: although there were thousands out celebrating, there must be many at home mourning those they had lost in the bombing or who’d been killed on active service and who would never come home again.
Family lives had also been disrupted in other ways, like the children being evacuated. Sending Stanley away for his safety had been hard and she’d missed him growing up. Her family life had changed irrevocably because of the war. She sighed. It hadn’t been all bad though, because she’d come to work here, and she’d met Alastair. The thought of him made her smile. She wondered what he was doing now, was he celebrating too?
And what next, what did the future hold for her now that the war against the Nazis was over and the end of Station 75 coming in just two days’ time? She still hadn’t decided about what she was going to do next.
Station Officer Steele had been as good as her word and found out more information about volunteering for UNRRA and it looked like a good possibility. There was one problem against her joining – though ‘problem’ was the wrong word because it wasn’t truly an issue as it was something that she’d been longing for, for years, ever since her grandad had evacuated him to the safety of the countryside. Now the war was over it was finally safe for Stanley to come home. Frankie had held on to 25 Matlock Street so he’d have his home to return to, putting up with Ivy and her difficult ways to keep it. All that would be worth it when he returned, in perhaps just a few days’ time, as soon as he could leave. Making a home for Stanley took precedence over volunteering for UNRRA. If she couldn’t do that, perhaps there was something else she could do to help here in London – maybe the Red Cross needed volunteers, she could talk to Connie about it.
‘Frankie!’
Rose’s voice made her jump and she opened her eyes to see her friend looking down at her with a concerned expression on her face.
‘Are you all right?’
She nodded. ‘Just needed a bit of quiet time, it’s quite lively down there. Come and sit down if you want, it’s a good view out there tonight.’ She waved at the light show going on across London. ‘It seems so strange to see the city lit up again after years of darkness.’
Rose sat down next to her and leaned back against the chimney stack. ‘It’s symbolic, coming out of the darkness into the light. I like it.’ They sat quietly side by side, looking out over the rooftops for a few minutes, before Rose spoke again. ‘I’m going to miss working here very much. I can’t quite believe this station will cease to exist in two days’ time, can you? And it must be even worse for you because you’ve been here much longer than me.’
‘We knew it was comin’, and for the best reasons: that the war is nearly over, no, it is over. Better that than it dragging on for longer and us still working ’ere.’ She turned to Rose and smiled. ‘I will miss it though, very much.’
‘I’ve been thinking about where I could get another job. I’ll need to do something until I hear about my parents, until I know where my future lies.’
Frankie put her arm through Rose’s. She hadn’t talked much lately about her parents and what might have happened to them. Frankie suspected that she was terrified that they might have ended up in one of the concentration camps, and she desperately hoped this wasn’t the case, but if they had perished in one of those terrible places then Rose was an orphan and her future lay elsewhere than back with her family in Austria.
‘Whatever ’appens, you’ve always got a home with me, whether that’s at Matlock Street where we are now or somewhere else if I ‘ave to move when Alastair finally comes home from the army. You’re like family to me now, Rose.’
Rose rested her head on Frankie’s shoulder. ‘Thank you. I appreciate that very much. I don’t know where I will be until I hear news of my parents and only then can I decide what to do. I’m . . . I’m frightened that they were taken to a camp.’
Frankie took hold of Rose’s hand. ‘I would be too, but they may not have been taken to one, there’s no telling until you ’ear from them or find out otherwise. I hope that they are alive and well and are
just waitin’ to send a letter to you.’
Rose sighed. ‘It is my dream.’ She sighed. ‘But until I hear what has happened, I must find work to earn my living so I will search for a new job on the eleventh of May. What about you, what do you want to do?’
‘Firstly, I’ll make a home for Stanley, and then I’m going to see if I can ’elp people somehow, perhaps volunteer for the Red Cross here in London. The one thing I am certain of is that I don’t want to go back to doin’ what I did before the war. I’ve changed so much and sewing clothes in a factory again would feel . . . ’ She shrugged. ‘Feel like I’ve gone backwards, and I would hate it and want to be out there doin’ more.’
Rose nodded. ‘The war has changed so many people’s lives, for good and bad. If it hadn’t started, I would probably still be living in Austria, or maybe in America if my parents had finally got permission to emigrate there, but I would never have had the experience of living in England and meeting you and working here . . . ’ She threw her arm wide to encompass the whole of Station 75.
‘My gran always used to say every cloud has a silver lining. Station 75 has been ours.’
Chapter 64
Station Officer Steele surveyed Station 75’s crew arranged before her in front of the open garage doors, some sitting on chairs at the front, others standing in a row behind, all of them smart in their Ambulance Service uniforms.
‘Yes, that will do very nicely.’ She smiled at the photographer who’d been sent from headquarters to take the group photo today – recording for posterity the last day of Ambulance Station 75 – and went over to join her crew, sitting down on the empty chair in the middle of the front row between Winnie and Sparky. Trixie, who’d been sitting on Winnie’s lap, jumped down and sat in front of her, looking towards the photographer.
‘Here, girl, come here!’ The photographer patted his legs, calling to Trixie, who ignored him and stayed where she was. He tutted and marched over and went to pick her up.
‘Trixie stays where she is,’ Station Officer Steele said. ‘I want her in the photograph.’
He frowned. ‘But none of the other ambulance stations had a dog in their photo, or even at the station come to that.’
‘Well this one does! Trixie has been an important part of our crew and deserves to be in the photograph as much as anyone else. She has saved lives.’ The rest of the crew clapped and cheered, making her smile. ‘So, when you’re ready then.’
‘Very well, if it’s what you want.’ The photographer returned to where he had his camera and tripod set up.
‘Right, everyone, let this be a good one to remember Station 75 by,’ she called out. ‘Everyone facing the front, no funny faces, everyone smiling please, I don’t want to look at the photograph in years to come and be annoyed because someone’s sticking out their tongue.’ Everyone laughed.
‘On the count of three, smile please,’ the photographer shouted. ‘One, two, three.’ He pressed the shutter. ‘One more for luck, one, two, three . . . Right, thank you very much.’
‘Thank you, I hope you got some good ones, I look forward to seeing them.’ She stood up and turned to address the crew. ‘Right, thank you very much, everyone, you’ll all be sent a copy to keep and I hope that when you look back at it in the future you’ll have good memories of your time at Station 75. Our celebratory meal is at midday so, until then, can we all carry on with our assigned jobs to finish the clearing up and packing away.’
‘What’s going to happen to everything?’ Sparky said.
‘Useful equipment will be taken to be used by the regular ambulance service and I’m not sure what will happen to anything else, but nothing will be thrown away or wasted. There’s been a war on, don’t you know, things are still very much in short supply!’ Everyone laughed. ‘And as for this place,’ she looked around at the garages, then the rooms above them overlooking the courtyard which had played such a huge role in her life, ‘perhaps they’ll go back to what they were used for before, who knows.’
‘What, for chauffeurs for people who are too lazy to drive themselves?’ Paterson said. ‘They’ve managed without them for all this time, perhaps they won’t want them again.’
‘Or get anyone who wants to be a servant again!’ Sparky said. ‘I hope the war’s changed all that for the better.’
Station Officer Steele nodded. ‘It has certainly broken down some barriers and things won’t go back to the way they were before.’ She glanced at Bella, who was sitting on the front row listening, and who nodded and smiled back at her – she was definitely someone who would not be going back to her role as a servant. Her life had taken a new direction and allowed her talents to shine out, which Station Officer Steele hoped would carry on. ‘Right, let’s get to work so we can be finished by the time Mrs Connelly has our meal ready.’
Mrs Connelly’s farewell to Station 75 was a triumph. Everyone had donated what they could, and she had prepared a meal of rabbit pie with vegetables from the allotment and baked a cake from the precious donated sugar and butter rations. With plates now cleared and everyone relaxed after their meal, Station Officer Steele stood up and tapped her teacup with a spoon to get their attention.
‘Mrs Connelly, you have once more done us proud and we all owe you a great deal of thanks for providing us with such hearty meals to keep us going. Today’s has been a final triumph. Thank you for all you have done for us, and Hooky who has most ably assisted you.’ She began to clap and the rest of the crew quickly joined in, cheering, some of them banging on the table with their hands as well. She waited until the noise died down before going on. ‘And to the rest of my most excellent crew, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your service here. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to serve alongside you for five and a half years. It hasn’t always been easy and we have faced some difficult and trying times, we have lost crew members . . . ’ She paused for a few moments, remembering the two Jones sisters who had been killed when their ambulance had received a direct hit from a bomb while they were out on call. ‘We have been injured and tested to the maximum, but we did it and have come through to the end and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’ She looked round at her crew who were listening intently to her words, some looking directly at her, others staring at the table, their eyes looking suspiciously bright. It was going to feel very strange not to have these people in her life as they had been for so many years now, she would miss them desperately. ‘I am immensely proud to have served alongside such splendid people, and I hope that we will all keep in touch.’
As the room erupted into applause and cheering, she sat down, glad to have finished before the aching in her throat grew even worse and she would betray the emotion building up inside her.
Winnie stood up and waved both her hands to bring the crew back under control again, waiting until they were silent and looking at her. ‘Station Officer Steele, I know I speak on behalf of all the crew here when I say how glad we are to have served under your leadership. You have been the best of bosses and, even at times when perhaps we didn’t always see eye to eye,’ she raised her eyebrows, gaining a laugh from her audience, ‘we have always sorted things out and put the running of Station 75 and the casualties that we’ve helped first . . . ’
‘’ear! ’ear!’ shouted Sparky.
‘So, thank you for all your guidance, wisdom and friendship to us all, Station 75 wouldn’t be the place it is without you.’ This was followed by more cheering and clapping. ‘Now, please raise your cups of tea and join me in a toast.’ Winnie picked up her own cup and held it aloft. ‘To Station Officer Steele, a champion amongst us!’
As the crew members echoed Winnie’s words, Violet Steele couldn’t stop her eyes from filling with tears and she had to wipe them away with her handkerchief as she smiled at the crew. ‘Thank you. Thank you, all.’
Goodbyes had been said, along with promises to keep in touch, and now Station Officer Steele was the last one left at Station 75. She stood in the middle o
f the common room and looked around her. All personal items had been taken home by their owners: the books, jigsaw puzzles, the knitting and sewing; boxes full of equipment were piled up ready to be collected and taken to London County Council ambulance stations, leaving just the furniture, the battered old armchairs and sofa and the table around which the crew had sat for so many meals and discussions. She’d never seen it looking so empty and abandoned. Station 75 had been alive with people and the energy they brought to the place, the laughter and arguments that had gone with them. Now all of that was gone, had passed, and would never be here again.
She sat down in the overstuffed armchair and closed her eyes. She knew she should go but she was loath to leave, wanting to hang on to the threads of what had been her life for so long. Just a few more minutes and then she’d go and start the next phase of her life, one that wasn’t ruled by wartime and the responsibility of sending people out while bombs were raining down. Her life from now on would take on a more measured, stable routine – she’d be returning to her teaching post at the grammar school, trying to infuse her pupils with a love of history and English, although she feared teaching it would feel very tame after this.
‘I thought I might find you still here.’ Winnie’s voice made her jump, just as a wet nose touched her hand. She opened her eyes and saw Trixie looking up at her, wagging her tail rapidly from side to side as her mistress came and sat down on the sofa opposite. ‘Are you all right, boss?’
She nodded, stroking Trixie’s butter-soft ears. ‘Just taking a few moments to soak it all up, you know, so I can remember it.’ She looked around the room and sighed. ‘But it feels so different already with everybody gone and not coming back. It’s as if the old place knows . . . ’ She tried to laugh but it came out in a rather strange hiccup instead. ‘Hark at me, as if a building has feelings.’
