‘That’s right kind of yer, Blanche,’ said Babs, heaving her bag onto her arm, ‘but I’ll be all right. I don’t suppose it’ll last much longer with Albie Denham,’ she added with a loud sigh as they started walking slowly along Grove Road.
‘I ain’t so sure about that, it’s been about a year now, ain’t it?’ Blanche glanced sideways at Babs, waiting for her response, but she said nothing. ‘I’ve gotta admit, it ain’t turned out like I thought it would.’
‘Yer right there. I thought he’d have had it away a long time ago.’
‘Maybe he’s changed and they’ll settle down together.’
‘D’yer reckon?’ Babs asked sceptically.
‘No. Not to be honest with yer, Babs. I don’t.’
They walked along quietly for a moment, Blanche doing her best to think of something to say, anything to change the subject away from Albie Denham. ‘Have you heard?’ she said suddenly. ‘They’re saying how the King and Queen and all the government are doing a runner to Canada.’
‘Wish I could go to bloody Canada.’
‘I like them slacks yer wearing,’ said Blanche, trying again. ‘Always fancied meself in a pair of trousers. And Archie reckons I’ve still got the figure for ’em.’
Babs looked down at her legs as though the trousers were a surprise to her. ‘These? I made them out of a remnant at work.’
‘Big remnant,’ laughed Blanche, relieved that she’d distracted Babs.
Babs laughed with her.
‘I’d love some new things,’ said Blanche wistfully. ‘But there just don’t seem to be the gear around to buy like there used to be.’
Babs stopped dead and turned to Blanche. ‘If yer worked at Styleways yer could make yerself anything yer want.’ She paused. ‘Well, within reason.’
‘Me? Work?’
‘Why not? The governor’s looking for people, to work on uniforms. Good money it is and all. And there’s some really nice girls, yer’d like ’em. One horrible one, but you get that anywhere.’
‘How about the kids?’
Babs put down her bags again and thought for a moment. ‘Janey can go to the nursery they’ve opened up at the school, and the rest of them are old enough to sort themselves out.’
‘I’m not too sure about Len.’
‘He’ll be all right. Archie’ll be there for him. He’s always finished early down the market before school packs up.’
‘Shame Mary never took that job at Styleways. I could have killed her starting on them munitions. That’s our Ruby’s fault, interfering as usual.’
‘I ain’t talking about Mary, I’m talking about you. Perhaps when she knows you’ll be working there she’ll wanna job and all.’
Blanche laughed. ‘I don’t even know if I’m gonna say yes yet, nor’s yer governor. But I know if I do go there, it’ll make Mary even keener to stay on munitions.’ She frowned. ‘And what’ll my Archie say? I’ve not worked since we got married.’
‘Has he ever refused you anything?’
Now Blanche was laughing again. ‘Can’t think of nothing, except about that bloody evacuation lark, of course, and Archie says now how he should have listened to me about that anyway.’
‘Good, that’s settled then. I’ll go in to Mr Silver first thing Monday morning and see about it.’
Blanche looked a bit wary. ‘Suppose I could give it a go.’
‘Course yer could.’ Babs picked up her bags and they began walking again. ‘And yer don’t have to stay if yer don’t like it. But I know yer will, ’cos Mr Silver’s right nice, ever so easy to work for.’
‘He must be,’ Blanche said with a chuckle. ‘What he lets your Evie get away with.’
‘He is good to her, but she works hard when she is there.’
‘Even so, he must be a bit of a soft touch.’
‘He ain’t silly, Blanche, but he’s good to all of us girls in the workshop. Dunno what he’s like to the homeworkers, but I bet he’s the same with them.’
‘I could do that. Homework. That might suit me better.’
‘Don’t be daft, going out to work’s the whole point of it. It’ll do you good to get out.’
‘Hark at us. I never even thought about working five minutes ago, now I’m deciding whether I wanna work in the factory or indoors.’ She shook her head. ‘Going out tonight, Babs?’
‘I know you, Blanche, I know yer just trying to change the subject, but I ain’t gonna let yer. Yes, I am going out tonight, and I’m going out with Lou from work. You like her. You’ll like working with her and all.’
‘If I ever work with her,’ grinned Blanche, now almost resigned to the fact that she’d at least have a talk to Archie about going to Styleways.
‘You will,’ Babs grinned back. ‘I’ve left it to Lou to sort something out for me and her to do tonight. Should be good. Her brother Bob’s been coming up trumps with all sorts of fellers for us. You name ’em, soldiers, sailors, airmen, we’ve been out with the flipping lot!’
‘It’s good to see you laugh. You go out and enjoy yerself, make the most of it.’
‘I think I’ll have to. Bob’s off to training camp himself soon, so there won’t be no one around to find fellers for us.’ Babs’s laughter was no longer quite so convincing.
‘As if you’d ever have any trouble finding yerself a bloke,’ scoffed Blanche.
‘I dunno so much. I always used to think that Evie was barmy when she used to worry about being left an old maid. Now it’s me what’s worrying.’
‘Now you really are being daft.’
‘Am I?’ Babs said softly. ‘Am I really?’
13
Later on that hot, sunny Saturday afternoon, Babs and Blanche were both out in their back yards taking in the washing.
Babs shifted the clothes prop, letting the line slacken so she could reach the sheets that she’d pegged out before she went to the market. ‘How d’yer feel about starting work now yer’ve had a couple of hours to think about it?’ she asked, looking over the wall at Blanche.
‘What time have I had to think about anything with all this to do?’ Blanche mumbled, the wooden pegs she held in her mouth wobbling as she spoke. ‘I ain’t even spoken to my Archie about it yet.’
‘You know what he’ll say anyway.’ Babs doubled the clean white sheet over her arm and laid it carefully in the washing basket; if she didn’t crease it too much she’d be able to get away with only having to rub the iron over it.
Blanche took the pegs from her mouth and dropped them into the little checked bag that hung on the line. ‘So, have you heard from Lou yet about what you pair are getting up to tonight?’
‘Yeah, it’s all sorted out. She popped round a little while ago to tell me.’
‘Good. I told yer, yer should go out and enjoy yerself, single girl on a Saturday night. And you wait and see, I bet yer find yerself a right nice chap and all.’
‘All right, Grandma,’ Babs laughed as she took down the next sheet from the line. ‘I shouldn’t have said them things this morning, should I? ’Cos I know you, yer’ll be after me, seeing if I’ve got a feller and about settling down every five minutes now.’
‘We’ll see,’ Blanche said, unpegging Janey’s little vests. ‘So, what are yer doing?’
‘Going to see that new Cary Grant and Irene Dunne film.’ Babs paused. She let the pillow case she was just about to fold drop into the linen basket and put her hand to her chin. ‘Now, what’s it called? I bet you know.’
‘My Favourite Wife?’ asked Blanche with a grin.
‘That’s the one,’ chuckled Babs.
Blanche narrowed her eyes. ‘Cor, Cary Grant. I wouldn’t mind being his favourite wife.’
Babs got on with her folding. ‘Don’t let your Archie hear yer. ’
‘It’s all right, Cary can nip round for a few hours and Archie won’t know a thing about it. He won’t be in for ages yet. Gone to see the Arsenal, ain’t he. Him and Micky packed the stall away a bit early so’s he could go
and—’
The unmistakable sound of the air raid warning interrupted her.
‘Aw no,’ she hollered to Babs, tossing the clean vests carelessly into the washing basket and scooping up Janey from where she was playing by her feet. ‘Here we go again, bloody thing. Grab yer ration books, Babs.’
‘I’ll go out the front and get Len,’ Babs called over her shoulder as she dashed for the back door.
‘I wish they’d drop a bomb on that scullery and get rid of the copper, the washing board and the tin bath with it, so I never had to do another bit of washing again,’ laughed Blanche as she too disappeared indoors.
As she and Babs hurried along to the surface shelter at the end of the road, Blanche said, ‘I wouldn’t bother if it wasn’t for these two little’uns.’
‘I ain’t a little’un,’ said Len indignantly.
‘But you’ve gotta come with us, Len, ’cos you have to look after Flash for me,’ said Babs, ushering him inside.
‘Ta, Babs,’ whispered Blanche. ‘I just hope Archie and them other two are all right.’
‘Course they will be,’ said Babs, settling herself down as best she could on the uncomfortable wooden bench. ‘It’ll all be another waste of time, you see. Still, better than getting in the washing, eh? And it’s definitely better than having to do the rotten ironing. All them sheets and pillow cases.’
‘I hope yer right,’ said Clara.
Minnie patted her hand. ‘I wanted to stay indoors, but Clara thought it best to be on the safe side.’
Blanche smiled reassuringly. ‘Not worth the risk, eh, Clara?’
The siren faded, but it was immediately replaced by another sound that had everyone who wasn’t in the shelter rushing to their doors to see what was going on. It wasn’t the familiar droning of the aircraft that made them curious, they’d heard that nearly every day, it was the number of planes that had everyone looking up into the clear afternoon sky.
Blanche’s fourteen-year-old son Terry, his sister Mary and Micky Clarke were hanging around chatting and smoking on the corner by the baker’s shop.
Terry put up his hand to shade his eyes. ‘Here, will yer just look at them.’
Mary copied her brother. ‘I ain’t never seen so many planes in one go before. And all in lines. Wonder what that’s in aid of.’
‘Sodding hell,’ gasped Micky. ‘There’s flipping hundreds of ’em. Here, hang on.’ He squinted up at the aircraft and gulped. ‘Shit, they’re only Jerries, ain’t they. And look at that,’ he pointed to a group of planes flying in the opposite direction. ‘There’s our planes heading right for ’em.’
Micky’s words were immediately followed by the sound of a hail of empty bullet cases bouncing around on the cobbled street right where they were standing.
Terry stared down at them with his mouth open. ‘Blimey.’ Then he bent down and picked one up. ‘Len’ll like this,’ he said, holding it out for Micky to look at.
‘For gawd’s sake, Terry, just take Mary and run for it! I’m gonna get me nan and grandad.’
As Micky raced across the street, he shouted at the top of voice for everyone to take cover, then threw himself into the passage of number five where Alice and Nobby were standing, trying to decide what to do. He grabbed his nan by the arm. ‘Come on, quick!’ he yelled. ‘And you, Grandad, Yer’ve gotta get in the shelter.’
As they got to the street door there was a massive explosion that shook the house. It sounded and felt as though it was right on top of them.
Alice’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘We’ve been hit,’ she shrieked.
‘No, Nan, it’s just the blast. Come on.’
Micky was right, the bomb had fallen several streets away, on the other side of Grove Road. But even so, there was still some damage – the big front window of the baker’s, where only seconds before he, Mary and Terry had been standing chatting had been completely shattered. Alice went to rush over there.
‘Ne’mind that,’ said Micky, pulling her along. ‘You’re going in the shelter.’
‘But Rita and Bert—.’
‘Don’t worry, Nan, they’ll be down in the bakehouse.’
Ethel Morgan, Maudie Peters, Terry and Mary Simpkins and the whole Jenner brood all got to the shelter together, just as the baker’s window shattered.
‘Gawd above!’ gasped Ethel as they all hurled themselves inside.
Everyone sat where they could, while Terry and Mary huddled round Blanche, fussing over Janey and annoying Len with their concern.
Blanche shook her head with relief. ‘Am I glad to see you two.’
‘Micky’ll be here in a minute,’ Mary said to her mum. ‘He’s gone to fetch his nan and grandad.’
‘Let’s hope they hurry up,’ said Minnie. ‘It sounds nasty out there.’
Maudie looked across to Babs. ‘How about Evie and your dad?’
Babs nibbled her bottom lip. ‘Both out, Miss Peters,’ she said.
Maudie nodded. She looked concerned; they all did. The continual drone of the waves of planes going over and the sound of guns firing could be heard all too clearly inside what now seemed a ridiculously fragile building.
The planes might have been loud but they all heard Micky and Frankie Morgan rowing outside the shelter.
‘I’m enforcing the regulations,’ Frankie shouted, barring the way to the door and pointing to a small blackboard that he’d fixed to it. ‘Can’t you read? That says that this shelter is full. And that’s what it means. There’s too many liberties been taken round here. And now people from other streets thinking they can—’
‘Are you gonna move?’ Micky said calmly.
‘Yer supposed to go to the shelter shown on the sign when this one’s full.’
Micky ripped the board from the door, and rubbed out the chalk writing. ‘Now, get out of me way.’ He took his nan’s arm, forced Frankie to one side and led Alice and Nobby inside, letting the door swing shut behind him in Frankie’s face.
But Frankie was having none of it. He immediately slammed it open, straight back on its hinges, and stood there in the doorway, hands on hips.
‘Yer meant to be the bloody warden, yer silly sod. Shut that flaming door,’ snarled Ethel at her husband. ‘Ain’t you got no brains?’
Still fuming, Frankie did as he was told but when he turned back round to confront Micky, he was furious to see that Nobby and Alice had already sat themselves down next to his wife and that Micky had squeezed in on the bench next to Mary Simpkins.
Micky looked up at Frankie and sneered, ‘I thought yer said the shelter was full.’ Then he said to Alice, ‘You all right, Nan?’
‘Yes, thank you, darling,’ answered Alice, glaring at Frankie as though she’d like to wring his neck for him.
Ethel was still furious with her husband. ‘How could yer think about turning ’em away?’ she demanded, glowering at him. ‘You just wait till I get you home.’
‘I thought it was full,’ Frankie said pathetically. ‘I thought all the street was in here. And if the other twin and Ringer had been in, it would have been.’
‘And how about Nellie and Jim, and Rita and Bert?’ demanded Minnie.
‘I was only doing me duty.’ Frankie looked about him, miserably seeking some sort of support for what he had done.
Alice wasn’t going to give it him. ‘My grandson’s entitled to come in here if he wants,’ she insisted, her eyes hard with anger. ‘And I’ll make sure he does and all, whenever he feels like it.’
Ethel nodded in agreement. ‘I’ll make sure and all, Alice. You just see if I don’t.’
Frankie knew when he was on to a loser. Crestfallen he turned round in the cramped shelter, nearly falling over Janey who was playing on the floor with her dolly. ‘I better get back to me duty out in—’ A gigantic crash drowned out the rest of his words.
Alice screamed and Blanche grabbed Janey. The vibration loosened the hook in the wall where the Tilly lamp had hung. It went clanging to the ground and the shelter was sud
denly plunged into pitch darkness.
‘Grab that lamp!’ yelled Micky.
‘I’m in charge here,’ Frankie bellowed at the top of his voice. ‘Now everyone calm down. We don’t need a light.’
‘Yer silly old bastard,’ shouted Micky, feeling round on the floor for the lamp. ‘We don’t wanna have a bloody fire in here, do we?’
‘Don’t you talk to me like that, young man,’ said Frankie indignantly, but his anger was quickly replaced by fear as another loud crash sounded and the floor began to quake beneath them.
‘Aw my good gawd,’ groaned Alice.
Clara grabbed Minnie’s hand, and the Jenner baby started to scream.
Liz Jenner stared into the darkness. ‘I dunno why I let you persuade me to come in here, Ted,’ she whimpered. ‘I knew we should have stayed indoors.’
‘There.’ Micky hung the relit lamp on the hook he had screwed tightly back into the wall, then he sat back down and slipped his arm round Mary who, with a defiant stare at Alice, cuddled into his shoulder and looked adoringly up into his eyes.
Everyone except Frankie sighed with relief, but the shelter was soon rocking again. Flash howled, cement dust rose from the floor making everyone cough and their eyes sting, and one of the younger Jenners wet herself.
Babs closed her eyes and took a deep, choking breath of dust-filled air, then, with a quiet, quavering warble, she started singing, ‘Pack up all my cares and woe, here I go, singing low, bye, bye, blackbird …’ She felt someone grab her hand; it was Len.
‘I’ll sing with yer, twin,’ he said.
‘Good boy,’ croaked Babs, squeezing his hand. ‘Come on, you lot, join in with us. Like yer did the other night.’
‘This ain’t like the other night.’ Nobby could barely speak for coughing.
Another crash came, louder this time. Liz Jenner cringed in the corner, her fingers digging hard into Ted’s arm as she clung on to him desperately.
‘All right, Liz,’ he whispered to her. ‘Come on, don’t let the kids or Gran see yer scared.’
The Bells of Bow Page 19
