You hear about these shelters in the east end where they do all that, singing, and I don’t think I’d take to that at all, but it was a bit of comfort, and certainly better than nothing, so I carried on a bit—not loud, because I couldn’t, but sort of half-singing, half-muttering to myself, It’s your blooming birthday, let’s wake up all the town.
That’s when I heard tapping. Very soft, but different from any noise I’d heard before, so I’m shouting out, ‘Help! Down here! Help!’ at the top of my voice. Well, nobody answered, so I shouted again, and I’m thinking, please, let there be somebody there, because I’d got my hopes right up, you know, as soon as I’d heard the tapping, and I thought, what if I’ve imagined it, and there’s nobody there, or they can’t hear me and they just leave me to die? So I’m yelling my head off, and every so often I stop and listen, and then I hear a man’s voice, very faint, ‘Hello?’
‘I’m here! Down here! Come and get me, for God’s sake!’
More tapping. I thought, right, Rene, don’t panic. You’ll be out of here, girl, you’ll be all right, just keep calm…and I’m telling myself this, but then I’m thinking, what if they’re going the wrong way, because it didn’t seem to come any nearer, or what if they do the wrong thing and it all falls down? Then I hear, still very faint, ‘Who are you? What’s your name?’
‘Tate! Rene Tate!’
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No, I’m all right! Just hurry up!’
‘Do you live here?’
‘No, that’s Mrs Everley!’
‘What’s that?’
‘Mrs Everley!’
‘Is she with you?’
‘She’s here, but she’s dead.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Dead!’
‘Anyone else?’
‘No!’
‘We’re coming for you… Can you still hear me?’
‘Yes!’
‘Don’t move!’
‘I can’t move, I’m trapped!’
‘Right—just stay there!’
I thought, I can hardly go anywhere, can I, you silly bugger? But I felt a lot better after that, or at least I did until I started hearing the planes again, and the guns, and then I just—oh, I can’t explain. It about finished me, I can tell you, hearing that and thinking, that’s it, the house’ll come down and the shelter and Tommy and Dora…it’s no good, I can’t begin to tell you what that felt like, but I’ll never forget it, never, lying down there in that tomb and thinking, that’s it, I’m finished. And I’m screaming, I can hear myself, this noise coming out of me, screaming and wailing, and it was like…well, you’re just so alone… I was in such a panic I could hardly breathe, and then there was more dust, a great choking fall of it, coming down between the planks, and I thought, next it’ll be the bricks and that’ll be it, and I couldn’t think any more, not about songs or Tommy or Mrs Everley or anything, just that I was going to die, shut up in this tiny little place, all alone in the dark. If there is such a thing as hell, that’s what it must be like, how I felt then.
Then there was silence for a bit, and more tapping, and eventually I could see a little bit of light through the wood, and after a while, I started to hear voices—not the words, just men talking to each other, and then I started to make out the odd word and I realised they weren’t coming in from the top, as I’d thought, but from the side. And then I realised that they were sawing wood and taking out the bits and pieces to make a sort of tunnel, but from what I could see it was getting darker, not lighter, and there was more and more plaster dust trickling down on top of me—they couldn’t help that, I suppose, but it felt like I was breathing it in, and it was choking me. So I turned my face as much to the ground as I could, but it was hard because the space was so little I was terrified I’d dislodge something, and that would be that.
I heard this odd sort of flapping noise, like heavy material, and I couldn’t think what it was. I was getting these terrible cramps in my legs from being all screwed up in such a tiny space and more than anything else I wanted to straighten them out, but I knew I couldn’t, so I was trying to get the singing going again, only this time in my head: Knees up, Mother Brown, knees up, Mother Brown, over and over, like that, but to be honest, this time it was all more like a dream—well, a nightmare, really— than anything else, and I thought, I’m going mad, they’ve left me here to go off my head…then suddenly I could see this little light coming from the planks beside my head, and there was a face there—a girl’s face. She must have had a torch because I could just see her out of the corner of my eye, and it was the girl from the shelter, the one that gave me the look—the one with the airman, the handsome one—and I thought, this is it, I’m dead and she’s dead too, and it’s the judgement, like the hymns. This is what it’s like, she’s come to tell me I have to stay here for ever, and I’ve closed my eyes tight, and I’m waiting, but then I heard her say, ‘Hello, I’m Lucy. What’s your name?’
I must have said something back, because then she says, ‘It’s all right. The doctor wants you to have this tablet.’
‘Why aren’t you in the shelter?’
‘I’ve been working in the canteen. The mobile one. If I can put my arm through this gap here, can you take the tablet in your hand?’
‘I’ll try…’
‘Wait a minute… I’ll shine the torch on my hand, so you can see. Can you put your hand out?’ Then the light was dazzling me, and the next moment, I could feel the warmth of her hand on mine, through the grit, and I knew she must be real and not dead like I’d thought she was.
I said, ‘I don’t know if I can swallow it,’ because my throat was that dry.
She said, ‘They didn’t give me any water. Do you want me to ask for some?’
‘No, don’t go… I’ll try.’
‘See if you can do it. It’s ever so little.’
I did manage after a few tries, but it wasn’t easy.
‘What was it?’
‘Morphia, I think. Just a little. It shouldn’t be long, now. It’s just…well, it’s hard for them to make the hole any bigger without…you know…and none of the men could get through, so I said I’d come.’
‘You’re very kind. I’d like it if…I mean, if you don’t mind, but please, would you hold my hand?’
‘Of course I will. It’s Miss Tate, isn’t it? That’s what they said.’
‘Yes, but don’t call me Miss Tate; my name’s Rene.’
‘Well, Rene, pleased to meet you.’
‘You too, dear. Shame it had to be like this.’
‘Yes, it is, rather.’
Then we had another great fall of plaster dust, and neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes because we had our heads down.
After a while, she said, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’
‘I must say, I’m jolly glad I didn’t wash my hair last night.’
It was funny, really, her stretched out on the ground, and me all curled up, just with our hands touching through this little space, but so reassuring, it made me feel quite peaceful, really. I said to her, ‘Oh, it is nice, having someone to talk to. I’ve been down here ever such a long time.’
She said, ‘Yes, but it’ll soon be over.’
‘People keep saying that, but no one’s come.’
‘I’m here.’
‘Yes, dear. And I’m ever so grateful.’
All the time, I could feel her hand in mine, and she never let go, she just kept saying, ‘You’ll be all right. They’ll have you out.’
Then the tablet must have taken hold, because I started to feel a bit better, and I said, ‘Oh, thank you, thank you for staying with me.’
She said, ‘Now listen, Rene, if I can come in, you can come out. I can see you, with my torch, and you’re slim, like me.’
I said, ‘Well, I don’t know how you can make that out, with me all hunched up like this.’
She said, ‘I remember you, I’ve seen you before…’ and I thou
ght, oh, dear…but then she said, ‘I’m sorry if I…well, in the shelter, it was a bit of a night, you know.’
I said, ‘Don’t you worry about that, dear, we’re all human. You know there’s a body down here, don’t you? It’s the woman who rents this flat. Behind me.’
‘Gosh…’ She took a deep breath and said, ‘I’m rather glad they didn’t tell me that.’
‘Well, it was very brave of you to come.’
‘Oh, nonsense.’
I must have drifted a bit then, I think, but after a while, we heard the man’s voice, louder than before. ‘All right, miss?’
We both shouted, ‘Yes!’
‘Soon have you out, now. You better come back now, miss.’
I said, ‘Oh, you’re not going?’
‘Well, I’ve got to. But they must have made the hole wide enough to fetch you out, so it can’t be long. Tell you what, I’ll be waiting with a cup of tea. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds like heaven. And you’re an angel.’ I gave her hand a squeeze before I let go, and I said, ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll see you in a minute. Now I’ve got to crawl out backwards…’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Thank goodness for slacks, that’s all I can say.’
There was more talk after that, and then it was a man on the other side of the planks, sawing, then hands reaching for me, and the man got his hands under my armpits and dragged me out through this sort of tunnel, and at the top I saw they’d covered up a great section with a tarpaulin, so that must have been the flapping noise I heard.
It was pretty dark, apart from the torches, but half the block was gone. There was just a heap of rubble with odd shapes sticking up here and there. The centre staircase was still in place, and as I looked, a searchlight beam went across and I saw the wall of what had been the top flat in the middle of the block, green patterned wallpaper and little table with barley-sugar legs standing up there all by itself. There looked to be something on top, as well, an ornament of some sort, but it was too far away and the beam passed before I could take in any more.
There were people everywhere, passing out baskets of debris, ambulances backed up, ARP, but I was too tired and dazed to take much of it in, really. A bossy woman—a nurse, judging by her uniform—came and was all for getting me to the first aid post, but I told her, ‘There’s nothing wrong with me, and I’m not going anywhere until I know about my family.’ She said the Wild Street shelter hadn’t been hit, but I told her that wasn’t good enough, and I wasn’t going nowhere until I’d seen them because I’d got to tell Dora about Joe. Then of course she’s asked me who Joe is, and I’ve explained, and I suppose she must have reckoned I was all right after that, because she didn’t press it, just said she’d go and have a word with the warden about the records, whatever they are.
I could hardly stand, so the rescue man carried me over to sit on the kerb by the mobile canteen because there wasn’t any glass back there. When he put me down on the ground I could suddenly feel my legs again, very cold, and I looked down and saw my skirt and slip were ripped right down the side and you could see the tops of my stockings. That was pretty much all that was left of them. The rest was torn to shreds.
I was shivering all over, so somebody fetched a couple of blankets, and next time I looked up, there was the girl with a cup of tea.
I said, ‘Oh, you kept your promise.’
‘Of course I did. It’s hot, and there’s plenty of sugar.’
‘I’m sorry, dear, what did you say your name was?’
‘Lucy. Lucy Armitage.’
‘Thank you, Lucy.’
She tried to put the mug into my hands but I couldn’t hold it, so she said she’d sit down beside me on the kerb and hold the cup so I could have a sip whenever I liked. That was too much, her kindness, and I’m afraid I made a fool of myself then, and started to cry a bit, and she said, ‘Here,’ and took her handkerchief out of her pocket and held it out to me. ‘I’m afraid it’s a bit crumpled, but it’s quite clean.’
So I had a bit of a mop-up, and the hankie, after, was stiff with plaster and grime. I said, ‘I’m ever so sorry, I’ve ruined it.’
Lucy said, ‘Oh, it’ll wash off. Now then. I’ll just put this tea down, and I’ll go and fetch my handbag. I’ve got another hankie, so you can tidy up a bit—more before you see your little boy.’
‘What did you say?’
‘Tommy. Your little boy. You were talking about him. You know, down there.’
‘Oh. Well, I… He’s not mine, of course, he’s my sister’s, but…but…I…’
‘But I thought…’ She frowned for a moment and said, ‘Oh, dear, I’m sorry. You were saying you love him as if he was your own, weren’t you? That’s what you said, and I misunderstood you.’
‘Yes…yes, that’s right…as if he was…I do…yes…’
‘Of course. How silly of me. Now, I’ll just be a minute.’
What a nice girl! When she’d gone, I thought, where’s my handbag? And then I remembered it was still down under the bed with poor Mrs Everley. I tried to remember what was in there—keys, purse…not that there was much in that…identity card, lighter, a photograph of Tommy, compact, lipstick…
Not much chance of getting any of it back. At least I always leave my ration book at home unless I’m shopping, so that was one thing I didn’t have to worry about.
‘Here we are.’ Lucy came back with her handbag. ‘I expect you’d like a cigarette, wouldn’t you? It always helps.’
‘I can’t take that, it’s your last.’
‘I insist.’ She lit it and handed it over. ‘Now you’ll have to have it.’ She watched me for a moment, then said, ‘That’s better, isn’t it?’
‘Lovely. Just what I needed. You are a dear.’
Lucy gave me another hankie, all neatly folded, and said, ‘Take this.’
‘It’s no good, dear, without soap and water.’
‘Well, you keep it anyway. You might need it later.’
An ARP warden came up then, with a lot of papers in his hand. ‘Are you Miss Tate?’
‘That’s right.’
‘This Joe you mentioned… We’ve got a Mr J. Nicholls listed for Flat Three; would that be the person?’
‘Joe Nicholls, yes. Do you know…?’
‘We’ve dug him out, yes, but—’
‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’
‘I’m afraid so, miss. Are you a relative?’
‘He’s married to my sister. Have you told her?’
‘No one’s been notified, as far as I know, but—’
I said, ‘Right. I want to see them—her and the boy. I’d like to be the one to tell them, if you don’t mind. They’re in the shelter down the street.’
‘Well, miss, they can’t come up here. You shouldn’t be here yourself, now.’
‘I tell you, I’m going nowhere until I’ve seen Dora and Tommy.’
Lucy said, ‘I can take you down to the shelter, if you think you can manage it.’
The warden said, ‘She ought to go to the first aid post.’
I said, ‘Who’s “she”? The cat’s mother? I’m fine. I’ll do all that later. Give us a hand up, Lucy, and we’ll go down there now.’
She said, ‘Are you sure you can manage?’
I said, ‘Well, we won’t be beating any greyhounds, but we’ll get there,’ because I was determined I was going to tell Dora and Tommy myself. I was a bit shaky when I got up—it didn’t help that I’d lost a heel off one of my shoes, but I couldn’t take them off because of all the glass. I said to Lucy, ‘I can’t bear that type. Bloody little Hitler.’
‘He’s only doing his job, Rene.’
‘So were those up there that bombed us. Everyone’s only doing their bloody job…’
By the time we got to the shelter my knees were buckling, so Lucy found me a place to sit, and said, ‘Right, I’ll go and speak to the warden about your sister, then I’d better be off.’
‘Thank you, dear. For all y
ou’ve done. I’m very grateful. And if there’s anything I can do for you…’
Lucy gave me a lovely smile. ‘It’s nothing, really. Goodbye, Rene.’
When Dora and Tommy came over with the warden, they just stood and stared at me. I wanted to get up and give Tommy a hug, but I didn’t think I’d manage it, so I said, ‘Don’t you recognise your Auntie?’
Dora said. ‘Blimey, Rene, I wouldn’t have recognised you! What happened?’
I said, ‘I was in the block.’
‘Oh.’
I didn’t know how to tell her, but before I could start, she said, very quietly, ‘It’s Joe, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, Dora, I’m so sorry…’
‘Are you sure? I mean, there’s not…there’s no…?’
I shook my head. ‘The warden up there, he told me.’
‘But what… I mean, why are you… I don’t understand. Oh, I knew, I knew this would happen. I said to him, “Joe, you’ve got to come to the shelter.” I kept telling him, but he wouldn’t listen. Why didn’t he listen, Rene? I told him…’
‘I’m sorry, Dora.’
‘Did you see him, Rene? That’s why you were there, wasn’t it, to see him?’
‘I didn’t see him. I was there just when it started—never even got up the stairs.’
‘Oh, I’m glad. I’m glad you didn’t fight. I wouldn’t have wanted him to die angry. It was bad enough us having words before, but if…if…’
She stood there with tears streaming down her face, and I felt so helpless, I couldn’t even get up. All I had was this handkerchief Lucy’d given me, so I held it out and said, ‘Come on, Dora, sit down.’
Lover Page 26
