‘Goodnight,’ Plum said emphatically to the man. ‘Come along, Bunty – I’m that exhausted I could fall into bed right now.’
The two girls giggled as they headed to the chalet, where they found Bunty tucked up in bed reading a book. It had been Bunty’s turn to collect the thermos flask. She jumped out of bed to pour the hot cocoa into three mugs while the girls prepared for bed.
Plum told Bunty what Spud had said about Mr Snoop. ‘It seems that he’s not long back working on the paper after being in the Observer Corps during the war. Spud reckons him to be a cocky so-and-so. Didn’t stop bragging about his work when he popped into the gatehouse to ask Spud a favour.’
‘A favour?’ Bunty looked worried.
‘Yes. He said that if Spud spotted anything unusual with the campers, or got a sniff of a story, he would see him all right for a few bob. I must say Spud’s turns of phrase confuse me at times,’ Plum said with a frown.
Molly laughed at Plum’s puzzlement. She was very fond of her new friend, but sometimes it was so funny when Plum didn’t understand common expressions. She wondered how someone like Plum got to be working at Butlins. ‘I was going to ask how our Mr Snoop could mistake me for Bunty if he knew the story of Aileen’s murder, but you’ve answered my question. It sounds as though he is following up old stories from his newspaper, and with Bunty not long released from prison, he must think he can find Gordon.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I really don’t like this man.’
Bunty again looked worried. ‘I’m not happy with you pretending to be me. If I leave with Gordon and he finds out after a few days, he may cause trouble for you. I wouldn’t want that to happen to my worst enemy.’
Plum thought for a while as she sipped her cocoa. ‘I don’t think you should leave Butlins.’
‘But . . .’ both girls said together.
Plum placed her mug down on the bedside table. ‘Spud suggested, and I agree with him, that if we continue with fooling Mr Snoop for a few days, it would give you time to help Gordon plan to leave the area and hopefully get to Scotland. His best chance of leaving would be on a Saturday, when we have the changeover of campers. There will be hundreds of people catching coaches and trains, so Gordon can join them without being noticed. If we continue to pretend you are Bunty’ – she nodded to Molly – ‘until the following Saturday, then revert to your right name, he will have one hell of a time trying to track Gordon, as we’d have had two changes of campers by then.’
Molly watched Bunty as she considered Plum’s suggestion. After being separated from Gordon for so many years, could she say goodbye to him once more? ‘Whatever you decide, Bunty, I’ll support you,’ she said, reassuring her new friend. She knew what it was like to have a friend when times were hard.
‘Count me in too,’ Plum added.
‘Thank you, both.’ Bunty took a deep breath before continuing. ‘I know this reporter chap can’t arrest Gordon, but if his story is published in a newspaper, it could lead the police to find him before he has a chance to clear his name. We all understand that Gordon is in serious trouble for escaping from prison. I would probably go back to prison for helping him. I don’t know if I could see you both get into that much trouble for me.’
Plum considered what Bunty had said. ‘I appreciate we may be getting into hot water, but I’m prepared to risk it. What if we say we did it as a prank and never knew about Gordon? Would that make you feel better? I don’t feel Spud would have suggested we swap names if he thought we would get our collar felt.’ She looked at Molly and grinned. ‘I do know some working-class terms. I may come from landed gentry, but I’m also a working girl. I have a daughter to provide for.’
‘A daughter? That’s lovely,’ Molly said. ‘Is she with your husband?’ She was aware that since the war many men were either injured or not yet in gainful employment.
For a moment, Plum looked sad. ‘No. William died during the Battle of Britain. He was a Spitfire pilot and was killed before Elizabeth was born.’ She looked at Molly and Bunty’s distressed faces. ‘Please don’t be sad for me. Time has moved on and I’m coping. I have much to live for, and that’s why I want to help you, Bunty, so that you and Gordon have something to look forward to.’
Bunty hugged her friends. ‘I’m truly blessed to know such lovely people. I hope we can meet Elizabeth one day.’
Plum nodded, her face lighting up as she spoke. ‘Most certainly. You must come to tea. I have a cottage a few miles from here. A good friend cares for Lizzie. I get to see her on my days off, and even on a half-day. How about you, Molly? You must be the only one among us with a normal family life . . .’
Molly gave a sad sigh. ‘Unfortunately, my life is as complicated as yours. That’s the reason I’m here.’
12
‘So you see I had no choice but to leave Erith, at least for a few months, until my parents’ solicitor returns from abroad and can hopefully sort out the whole sorry mess,’ Molly said, giving a deep sigh. It was the following morning and she’d just explained to her two friends about her flight from Erith and what had led to her securing a job at Butlins.
Bunty placed her cup and saucer on top of the wall beside her. The girls had fallen into a routine of meeting for morning coffee whenever they could escape from their duties and were taking advantage of the late-May sunshine. Around them, campers were relaxing in deckchairs or chatting with new friends made since arriving at Butlins. Sounds of splashing water and excited children could be heard from the nearby swimming pool. Along with Molly, Bunty would be heading to the pool to help with the weekly knobbly-knees competition when they had finished their drinks. ‘I can see that these cousins would be a problem for you. It does seem strange that you never knew they existed.’
‘The whole thing stinks, if you ask me,’ Plum said, throwing her cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with the toe of her riding boot. ‘You handled Simon the right way, though,’ she snorted.
Bunty glanced with annoyance at Plum. ‘Molly hasn’t long lost her parents, Plum. She shouldn’t have experienced all this added worry. I don’t think I’d be able to cope with what she’s been through.’
Molly smiled at her friend. ‘How can you say that when you’ve been in prison? I think you are to be admired for getting through that in one piece,’ she said in amazement.
‘I had my family,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders. ‘My parents didn’t believe I’d done anything wrong, and they were there supporting me throughout my time in prison. I’ve not told them I’m with Gordon,’ she added quickly. ‘I know he’s innocent, but I don’t want them knowing anything that could get them into trouble if people like Charlie Porter start sniffing around.’
‘But he is sniffing around,’ sighed Molly, ‘and they unwittingly gave him details of where you are.’
‘At least they’re not involved in what I get up to.’ She smiled, thinking of her parents back home. ‘I worried so much while I was locked away. They were in the thick of the bombing. The East End had it bad. At least my younger sisters were sent away with their classmates, though that worried Mum even more. Her letters to me were full of her wondering if they were safe. I felt powerless to help.’
‘I felt the same when I joined the Land Army. Mum and Dad were in Erith, which is by the Thames, and were sitting targets for the Luftwaffe, with the docks nearby and factories like Vickers doing such important war work in nearby Crayford. There were times I wanted to jump on the next train and head for home just to see they were safe.’ She looked into space as she added softly, ‘They survived the Blitz only to die together in a car crash just a month before the war was officially declared over.’
‘I can’t begin to understand how you must be feeling, and you an only child.’ Bunty put her arm round her new friend. ‘Was there no way you could stay in Erith and fight it out?’
Molly shook her head, causing curls to bounce on her shoulders. ‘I’m grateful I have good friends back in Erith, but I’m worried George and Kath will be harasse
d by Simon if he gets wind of the way we lied about ownership of the shop, or the fact we don’t believe his mother owns the house. They’re getting older and it just wouldn’t be fair of me to saddle them with my problems. As for Freda, she’s been a brick, but I’d hate her to be around if Simon became violent, or what if he sought her out in Woolworths and caused trouble in front of her bosses?’
‘I’m sure your friends know what they’ve let themselves in for,’ Bunty said.
‘The shop is in good hands, Kath is caring for my parents’ grave, and Freda is keeping her ears open and eyes peeled should anything untoward happen. I shall just have to stop worrying,’ Molly agreed.
‘They seem a good sort. Hoorah for good friends is what I say,’ Plum added with a faraway look in her eyes. Giving herself a little shake, she jumped down from the flower-bordered wall on which she’d been sitting, next to Bunty, and brushed biscuit crumbs from the front of her overalls. ‘I’m back to the stables before the queue of kiddies waiting for rides take things into their own hands. There’s always one bright youngster wanting to take over my job. Who knew donkey rides would be so popular?’ She headed towards the stable block but turned back sharply. ‘Be on your guard, girlies. Connie and Cecil Beaton at six o’clock,’ she said before raising her hand and walking away.
‘Who is Cecil Beaton?’ Bunty asked Molly.
‘A society photographer. I didn’t get the six o’clock part, though.’
Bunty laughed. ‘It’s pilot-talk for—’
Both girls froze as Connie and Charlie Porter headed towards them.
‘Cripes, we’ll be lucky if we get out of this without being rumbled,’ Bunty whispered.
‘Quick – take a gulp of your coffee and start coughing . . . and don’t stop.’
Bunty did as she was told as Connie came within earshot.
‘My goodness, has something gone down the wrong hole?’ Connie asked with concern.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Molly said, thumping Bunty’s back.
‘I wanted to let you know that Mr Porter here would like to take some photographs of the female redcoats by the pool. He suggested you, Bunty, and a couple of your colleagues.’
Bunty tried not to look alarmed. How could she reply without alerting the photographer to the fact that she was Bunty, rather than the redcoat he’d been watching the last couple of days? She took a mouthful of coffee and started another fit of coughing.
‘I’ll make sure we’re there, Connie,’ Molly replied as she helped Bunty to her feet. ‘Come along – let’s get you a glass of water in the cafe,’ she said, taking Bunty’s arm and dragging her away.
‘That was close,’ Molly said as they turned the corner and collapsed against the wall. ‘I just wonder how long we can keep Charlie Porter from finding out who is the real Bunty Grainger. The sooner Gordon is far away from the camp and not likely to be found by the wretched man, the better for all concerned. When do you think you’ll be able to go to the fairground and update Gordon?’
‘I agree I need to do it as soon as possible, but I’m on duty all this afternoon with you at the knobbly-knees competition, and then it’s the children’s talent show straight after dinner. By the time I get to the fairground, Gordon will be busy working and we’ll be unlikely to grab more than a few words before he gets called away.’
‘Then you must go this afternoon. Why don’t you slip away once we have all the contestants lined up and the judges picked? You’d have two hours at least while we pick the man with the knobbliest knees. I suggest you change first so no one questions why a redcoat is heading to the funfair. You’ll have plenty of time.’
‘But what about the group photograph of the redcoats? Won’t I be missed?’
‘I doubt it. As long as I’m there and pretending to be Bunty, then Charlie Porter will be happy. Besides, it’s better you avoid being included in any official photographs in case he sends a group picture to his newspaper and someone points you out as the real Bunty Grainger,’ Molly said.
Bunty gave Molly a hug. ‘You are a wonderful friend. I couldn’t think of half the cunning ideas you have. Wherever do they come from?’
‘Too many afternoons spent watching Johnny Johnson play secret agent Clive Danvers in B-movies at the cinema.’ Molly laughed. ‘I’m learning how to duck and dive, as Spud would say.’
Bunty’s eyes opened wide with amazement. ‘Johnny is a film star? I know he is good-looking, but . . . wow! No wonder you are sweet on him.’
‘I’m not,’ Molly said far too quickly. ‘Now, let’s go and find as many knobbly knees as we can. I spotted some likely candidates earlier.’
The afternoon was filled with fun and laughter as the redcoats encouraged male campers of all ages to join the line-up to find the knobbliest knees of the week. Even Molly was astonished to find they had forty men competing for the title.
The sky started to cloud over as the last of the contestants were encouraged to compete. The judges and contestants were told to head for the ballroom, where the entertainment continued. In the confusion, Bunty slipped away to change her clothes and visit Gordon.
Molly made sure that she kept Charlie Porter in her sight as much as possible. If he was watching her, then Bunty was safe to talk to Gordon without fear of being caught. She found that when she stopped to speak to men in their late thirties, Charlie came closer and started taking photos of holidaymakers nearby. She had no doubt that she would appear somewhere in the background of each photograph. The man was certainly crafty. She also wondered if Charlie thought Gordon was one of the campers.
Holidaymakers and redcoats found the knobbly-knees competition most entertaining, all howling with laughter as the judges, made up of female campers, felt and prodded each set of knees. The men took it all in good sport, rolling up both trouser legs and parading around the ballroom, much to the amusement of their families, who cheered on their menfolk. After prizes had been awarded, and winners congratulated, campers started to wander outside, the rain having stopped and the sun shining once more.
Molly was becoming fed up with being shadowed by Charlie Porter so gathered a few colleagues who were standing nearby and called him over. ‘Mr Porter, would you like to take your photographs now, please, before we have to move on to our other duties?’
Charlie Porter was quick to agree and began to take photographs of the redcoats, although he was unsure of his equipment and fumbled with the settings quite a lot. Molly decided to have a little fun with him and constantly moved to the back of the group. He became quite agitated, pulling her to the foreground and becoming flustered when she put her hand in front of her face or turned to chat to a fellow redcoat. Some of her colleagues began to sing ‘Oh, Mr Porter, What Shall I Do?’, much to his embarrassment, when he ran out of film. Under the circumstances, Molly didn’t think it was uncharitable to join in. After all, the man would be utterly beastly if he did locate Bunty’s Gordon.
‘It’s ever so exciting, isn’t it?’ Gladys Sangster said to Molly as she stretched out on her towel on the beach. ‘Such a shame you won’t get to meet Billy Butlin, though.’
Molly nodded. ‘Yes, it is, although we’ve been asked to step in and help out, as the pool area will be crowded with campers wanting to catch a glimpse of the famous man himself and possibly speak to him. He’s supposed to be judging the Butlins beauty pageant. I hope you are entering again. You look even lovelier now you have a tan. You are so lucky. I just turn as red as a lobster if I’m not careful.’
The two women had become close since the Sangster family started their holiday at Butlins. Knowing they lived not far from each other, they’d promised to meet up once Molly finished working at Skegness and would write to each other in the meantime.
‘I don’t think I should enter. After all, I won a prize last week and it would be greedy of me to try again, even though I’d love to see what Billy Butlin is like up close,’ Gladys added wistfully.
‘Then you should enter,’ Molly declared as she checked her
wristwatch. ‘I think we ought to make a move. You need to make yourself beautiful, and I have to change into my uniform.’
‘You’ve convinced me,’ Gladys said as she got to her feet and shook sand from her towel. Looking around at the gently lapping waves and golden sand, she sighed. ‘I’m going to miss all this when we head back to southeast London. The children are thriving in the sun, and being away from the bomb-damaged buildings and rationing has done me and Olive the power of good.’
‘Then you should think about taking day trips to the Kent coast, or perhaps even go on the paddle steamer Kentish Queen. I heard from my friend Freda that it is running again and taking day-trippers from Erith down to the coast. Margate and Ramsgate took a fair bashing during the war, but now the beaches are safe, it will be a nice day out.’
‘That sounds like a good idea. I’ll look into it as soon as we get home. We so enjoyed our trip before the war. I’m pleased I met you, Molly. I feel as though I’ve discovered a sister.’ She hugged her new friend and called to the children, who were building sandcastles nearby. Arm in arm, they headed back to the holiday camp.
‘I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!’ Bunty kept squeaking with excitement. ‘Billy Butlin has just kissed Gladys Sangster.’
‘So he should. After all, she has been crowned this week’s beauty queen. Look at her family cheering. Even her mother-in-law is jumping up and down,’ Molly said, wiping a tear of happiness from her eye. ‘I’m so pleased for Gladys. If only her husband was alive to see this.’
‘Chances are she wouldn’t have entered, or even been here if he were,’ Bunty reminded her. ‘Didn’t she say that it was an insurance-policy payout that made the holiday possible?’
‘It was,’ Molly said as the two girls pushed through the excited crowd towards the winning bathing belles, who were to be escorted to the rose garden for their official photographs. ‘I’m sure she’d rather have her husband with her than all the attention she’s getting today. Now, watch out for Mr Snoop in case he catches us out.’
The Butlins Girls Page 15
