The Butlins Girls

by Elaine Everest

  She frowned. ‘Gordon?’

  ‘May I?’ the man asked, before sitting down next to Molly when she nodded her approval. ‘You must be Molly. Bunty has spoken of you. Do you know where she is? It’s important I speak to her as soon as possible.’

  ‘She’s unwell. I thought it better she stay in our chalet and rest today.’

  Gordon looked alarmed. ‘What’s wrong? I should go to her. I may be able to help.’

  Molly held on to the man’s arm to stop him jumping to his feet and racing off towards the holiday camp. ‘It’s best you don’t. She was sleeping when I left her. She became distraught after she told us what happened with Aileen.’ She watched a look of concern spread over Gordon’s face.

  ‘Who else did she tell?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s all right. Only Plum and myself know about . . . about what happened. Even then Bunty didn’t tell us everything, as she became distressed. We only know you escaped prison during an air raid and you’ve been hiding ever since. She was upset about what you told her yesterday evening.’

  ‘So you know?’

  ‘Yes, Gordon. I know you both went to prison. I don’t understand why you escaped, and I do question why you would do such a thing. However, that is your decision. I’m just concerned for Bunty. She seems to have ruined her life because of you.’ Molly felt her anger rising. Bunty was a good sort. She didn’t deserve to be dragged into Gordon’s problems.

  ‘I love Bunty. I’d never do anything to hurt her. Please don’t get her in trouble with the police. If they found out she knew where I was hiding, she would no doubt be sent back to prison. I don’t think she could cope if that were to happen.’

  Molly knew this to be the truth. ‘I want to help Bunty. If that means helping her to move away from Skegness and forget you ever existed, then so be it,’ she said, raising her voice to push home her point.

  Gordon ran his fingers through his hair. ‘What can I do to show you I care for Bunty? Please meet me this evening and I’ll explain.’

  ‘Molly will not be meeting you this evening,’ Johnny said as he approached the couple. ‘Aren’t you one of the fairground workers? You’ve been told not to mix with the campers. We’ve had problems with your sort in the past.’

  Molly cringed. How much had Johnny heard?

  Gordon rose to his feet. ‘I meant no harm,’ he said to Johnny. ‘Molly, please consider what I’ve said.’ He turned and walked back along the beach, his hands in his pockets and his head bent as though he had the troubles of the world on his shoulders.

  Molly felt a twinge of regret for the way she had spoken to Gordon. It couldn’t be easy to be on the run all the time and not know whom to trust. How do you prove your innocence when the world thinks you’ve done something wrong? she thought as she watched Gordon head towards the funfair.

  ‘How long have you known that chap?’ Johnny asked, staring down at Molly.

  Molly felt herself bristle. How dare he question her in this way? ‘What I do and who I associate with is no concern of yours, Mr Johnson,’ she answered indignantly. Getting to her feet, ignoring the hand he held out to help her, she checked the time on her wristwatch, not wishing to spoil the children’s competition. Holding her chin high, she faced him, feeling her face start to glow with anger. ‘Have I ever questioned your choice of female companion?’ she asked. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have children to look after.’ Walking away from Johnny, she stumbled as she caught her foot in a length of dried seaweed. Righting herself, she headed to where the children were congregating, Johnny’s laughter ringing in her ears.

  The nature trail was a complete success. As the tired but happy group headed back to the holiday camp for lunch, Molly was asked repeatedly what she was organizing next.

  ‘Perhaps Redcoat Molly can arrange our crabbing expedition. We will announce details on Radio Butlins and at mealtimes,’ Johnny told the children.

  There were cheers and shouts of happiness as the children thanked Molly and the other redcoats before heading to find their parents.

  Molly planned to leave her equipment in the staffroom before collecting sandwiches for lunch to take back to the chalet for herself and Bunty. She wasn’t on duty until later in the afternoon, when she would be helping out around the swimming pool, where the beauty pageant would be judged. She heard Johnny calling her name.

  ‘Molly, I just wanted to say well done for this morning’s entertainment. Apart from your little dalliance, it went very well. We must plan more adventures for the children,’ Johnny said before disappearing into his office.

  She wanted to stamp her foot on the floor in anger. The infuriating man made her so mad. How dare he question whom she spoke to when she’d spotted him with many different women on his arm? What worried her more was why she cared so much.

  Bunty was sleeping soundly when Molly arrived at their chalet. She left the sandwich and cold drink by the girl’s bed and took her own lunch outside along with her notepad. Molly wanted to write to Kath and George again to let them know how she was getting on in her new job. She also wanted to ask a favour of Kath. It would have been her mother’s birthday in a few weeks, and as Molly would not be able to travel to Kent to lay flowers on her grave in person, she wanted Kath to do this for her. Molly’s heart ached whenever she thought of her mum. Would she have approved of her working in a holiday camp? She tried to console herself with the thought that she was working with children and this was no different to when she helped out with the Brownies and Girl Guides. She smiled to herself when she decided that her mum would have loved to have known about the camp and the many exciting events her daughter was involved with. She would have laughed knowing that a matinee idol was one of the redcoats. Charlotte Missons had always enjoyed the cinema.

  After tucking a ten-shilling note inside the letter to cover the cost of a bouquet, she wondered about arranging for Kath and George to visit the holiday camp. They would love it, she was sure.

  She next dashed off a letter to Freda, in which she included more about Johnny. Brushing crumbs from her lap, she went inside the chalet to wash her hands and face, and prepare herself for the afternoon’s entertainment. Changing out of her shorts, she pulled on a white skirt that was part of her uniform. The redcoats were much admired in their red-and-white uniforms, and staff were proud to represent Butlins in their official attire. Molly loved the feel of the pleated skirt as it swished round her legs.

  After dropping off her letters at the post room, she headed to the swimming pool along with crowds of campers. Already she was beginning to remember names and was touched when the holidaymakers remembered hers. She bumped into the Sangster family as they were settling themselves into deckchairs for an afternoon of entertainment.

  ‘Our Freddie really enjoyed himself this morning,’ Olive Sangster said. ‘He hasn’t stopped telling us about those blooming crabs. Is it right your young man is taking the kids crabbing?’

  Molly blushed. ‘Yes, there will be a trip to the pier where they can fish for crabs. Mr Johnson is arranging it, but he isn’t my young man,’ she added quickly.

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t say no,’ Olive declared loudly. ‘You snap him up before someone else does, my love.’

  Molly laughed at Olive’s joke. Goodness, did any of the other campers think they were a couple? ‘Are you going to enter the beauty pageant?’ she asked Gladys.

  ‘I’ve told her she should enter. She’d give the younger women a run for their money.’

  Gladys blushed. ‘I don’t know about that. I’m a married woman . . . I mean a widow,’ she faltered. ‘Isn’t it for the younger girls?’

  Molly could see that Gladys was wavering. ‘Other mums are entering, Gladys. Why not give it a go? It’s just a bit of fun.’

  ‘Go on, girl – get up there. Wave the flag for Woolwich. Our Edith and Freddie will be that proud,’ Olive insisted, giving her daughter-in-law a playful push. ‘I’ll keep our deckchairs safe.’

  Gladys grinned and reached for her
bag. ‘In that case, I’d best pull a brush through my hair and put a bit of lipstick on. I don’t want to let the side down.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Molly said, before moving on to encourage more young women to join in. Secretly she hoped Gladys Sangster would win, as she was such a likeable woman and had been through a lot in her life. Then again, so had many other people she’d met at Butlins that week.

  By the time announcements had been made over the busy tannoy system and the judges had settled behind their table, pens poised to take notes, there were quite a number of young women lined up round the side of the swimming pool hoping to win the coveted title of that week’s ‘Butlins Beauty Queen, Skegness’. The judges were announced: two older campers who had holidayed at Butlins before the war, the local mayor and also a young starlet whose parents lived nearby. She was appearing in a well-received film that was currently doing the rounds in cinemas. Molly had seen the movie with Freda not long before she left Erith to start her new job at Butlins. Going by the way the young woman hung on to Johnny’s arm as he led her to the table, she either knew him very well or was unable to walk unaided, Molly thought to herself with a grin. He certainly attracted the women.

  Campers cheered and whistled as the judges were announced and Johnny took to the stage, microphone in hand. After welcoming one and all to Butlins, he explained that today’s winner would go through to the next stage of the competition, which would culminate in an all-expenses-paid final at London’s Albert Hall early next year to find the Butlins Beauty Queen of 1946. Not only that, there were many prizes for runners-up, along with sashes for the lucky ladies.

  It took some time for each contestant, number card in hand, to be introduced and parade in front of the judges, who wrote furiously and conferred with each other after each lady had walked by. Gladys looked pretty in her green bathing costume, her shining auburn hair bouncing on her shoulders as she walked confidently before the judges. Not as tall as many of the other contestants, some of whom seemed to be old hands at such competitions going by the way they posed for the judges, she stood self-assuredly in front of the table with a friendly smile. When asked where she came from, she announced, ‘Woolwich in south-east London,’ and quickly added, ‘with my two children and mother-in-law.’ At which point, there was more cheering from the large crowd watching. No doubt all Londoners.

  There was a break while the judges conferred. Johnny explained to the holidaymakers that there were so many beautiful contestants that ten women would be called forward before the winner was announced. The entertainment team stood round a piano and sang a selection of songs to keep the audience amused.

  Silence fell over the crowd of holidaymakers as Johnny approached the microphone once more with a card handed to him by the head judge, the mayor of Skegness.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the following ten contestants will step forward and compete to be crowned this week’s “Butlins Beauty Queen”.’ He slowly announced each number, pausing for effect to encourage those watching to wonder if their mum, sister, daughter or girlfriend was one of the lucky ten finalists. ‘The final contestant is . . . number thirteen, Gladys Sangster from south-east London.’

  Molly cheered loudly along with the crowd, who all seemed to support the pretty redhead. She could see Edith and Freddie were wild with excitement that their mum’s name had been announced. Olive, too, was waving her sun hat in the air.

  The unlucky contestants left the swimming-pool area with much sympathetic clapping from the happy crowd. The fortunate ten ladies again walked round the pool as the judges contemplated who would be in the final three and the entertainment team sang ‘A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody’, which Molly recognized from one of her favourite films The Great Ziegfeld.

  As the young women once more lined up in front of the judges, a hush fell over the crowd. Johnny again took a card from the head judge and smiled as he announced third place; a popular choice among those watching, a tall brunette girl from Scotland accepted a sash and an envelope that the campers were told contained a voucher to be used in one of the onsite Butlins shops.

  Silence fell again as the anticipation grew among the crowd. They were not disappointed when Johnny announced that Gladys Sangster had won a prize of five pounds, a voucher for a Butlins shop and another for the hairdressing salon. Molly could see Gladys’s family jumping for joy and Olive fishing for a handkerchief in her handbag. She felt quite emotional herself.

  The competition culminated with a pretty blonde girl from Birmingham being crowned ‘Butlins Beauty Queen’ of the week. The three happy women again paraded round the pool to much applause and cheering.

  Molly helped clear up and stopped to chat to some of the contestants before popping over to see the Sangster family and offer her congratulations to Gladys.

  ‘I think we ought to have a quiet holiday after all this excitement,’ Gladys said. She appeared embarrassed by the attention of fellow holidaymakers who had offered their congratulations. ‘I’m all of a fluster what with the bingo win and now this. People like us aren’t usually this lucky.’

  ‘Enjoy your prizes, Gladys,’ Molly said as she gave the woman a hug.

  ‘I don’t need prizes,’ the modest woman replied. ‘Olive can have her hair done, and the kids can use the shop voucher to buy themselves a toy each. The money will go into our savings pot. I’m just happy to have taken part.’

  ‘Don’t forget to have your photograph taken along with the other finalists. It’s going to be done on the lawn near reception. Do you want me to walk over with you?’

  ‘Please, Molly, that would be lovely. I’m more than a little embarrassed by the attention,’ Gladys said.

  The two women headed towards reception chatting amiably about the area of the country they knew so well. Molly explained how her parents always took her to Woolwich Market as a child and she had fond memories of the special trip to buy fruit and nuts each Christmas Eve. ‘That was long before the war,’ she added wistfully.

  ‘Why, my father-in-law probably served you – he had a fruit-and-veg stall in the open-air market. What a small world it is,’ Gladys said. ‘Olive always says we couldn’t rob a bank as someone would probably know us,’ she added with a laugh.

  ‘The same could be said for those of us who live in Erith,’ Molly agreed. ‘Do you work on the market?’

  ‘Goodness me, no. I work in Woolworths. It’s too much like hard work for me out there in all weather.’

  ‘My friend Freda works in the Erith branch,’ Molly said.

  ‘There, didn’t I say it was a small world?’ Gladys declared. ‘Did you hear about the Bexleyheath branch being hit with an oil bomb and staff and customers being killed?’

  Molly nodded. ‘Freda told me about it, but only after the war. Her boss and friend were injured. Many of the employees went to work at Erith while the store was being rebuilt.’

  Gladys nodded. ‘We had a few join us. Who’d have thought it could happen and remain such a secret?’

  ‘We didn’t want Hitler hearing about it and thinking he was winning the war, did we?’ Molly said.

  ‘Certainly not,’ Gladys agreed, ‘and it worked ’cos he didn’t, did he?’

  ‘Thank goodness or we’d not be here having a lovely time now,’ Molly said as they arrived by the flower-bordered lawn. ‘Here we are, and the photographer has just arrived by the look of things. Do you want me to wait?’

  ‘Please. I’ve not had my photo taken since my wedding day. If only my Joe could see me now,’ she said sadly.

  ‘I’m sure he’d be more than proud, just like Mrs Sangster and your children,’ Molly said.

  Gladys gave her a grin. ‘I think he would have been. If he’d been with us now, he’d have put his name down for the sports team as well as the boxing. If only things had been different,’ she added reflectively.

  ‘Hello, ladies,’ the photographer said as Molly and Gladys approached. ‘Now, would you stand just there next to this lovely lady and we will have this over
and done with in a flash. Would you stand away a little?’ he asked Molly, who dutifully stepped behind the man so she didn’t appear in the photographs.

  Butlins had a group of official photographers who not only worked at organized events but also walked around the camp taking pictures of happy faces and holidaymakers enjoying themselves. Within hours the photos would be displayed in reception and also in a special shop where campers could buy copies to take home as mementos. This particular photographer had been on the beach at the children’s nature trail earlier in the day and had taken photographs of each of the teams.

  Molly noticed the sash worn by that week’s winner had slipped slightly and the word ‘Butlins’ could not be seen. ‘Excuse me,’ she called to the man as he clicked away with his camera. ‘One of the sashes needs adjusting.’

  The photographer tutted. ‘Then adjust it, please.’

  Molly dashed forward and straightened the sash, making sure the word ‘Butlins’ could be seen on the other two finalists’ sashes as well. ‘That’s better.’ She returned to stand behind the man. However, as he continued to stay in one spot and click away with his camera, Molly became puzzled. Why was he not taking individual photographs of the three women? They would be bound to purchase more, and she knew that Butlins loved campers to take home anything with the word ‘Butlins’ inscribed on it, as then friends and families of the holidaymakers would show interest and hopefully book their own holiday at the camp. ‘Do you think you could take some individual photographs as well?’ she asked.

  The photographer sighed. ‘Everyone’s an expert,’ he said to no one in particular. ‘OK, ladies, let’s be having you.’ He pointed to Gladys. ‘Stand over there by the flagpole, darling, and give me a big smile.’

  Gladys did as she was told, but again Molly was puzzled. ‘Er, excuse me, but aren’t you taking photographs straight into the sunshine?’ Her father had been a keen photographer and had taught her the fundamentals of how to take a good photograph. Surely, as a professional, this man should know such basic rules.