Lover

by Wilson, Laura

  When I opened the door, he said, ‘Good. Now then, let’s start again, shall we?’ and he took me in his arms and gave me a kiss. It was just as nice as the first time, especially when he stroked my hair and said, ‘You don’t know how glad I was to see you in that shelter, Rene. I really thought…well, I thought…that was it.’

  I laughed and said, ‘You don’t need to worry about me, I’m as tough as old boots.’

  ‘Well, it’s lovely to see you anyway. Let’s do that again, shall we?’

  So we had another kiss, and when we came apart he said, ‘I’m getting very fond of you, you stubborn old thing.’

  ‘Less of the old, if you don’t mind. I’m very fond of you, too.’ I took his hand and led him over to the armchair. ‘Now then, you sit down here while I make us a pot of tea, and then there’s something I’ve got to tell you.’

  When I brought the tray through, Harry said, ‘They gave me your note at the post, but before you say anything—if you won’t take my money, at least let me give you these.’ And he held up a packet of Players.

  ‘Harry! You are a dear. I was getting desperate. But you can’t give me all these; what are you going to do?’

  He waved a finger at me and shook his head.

  ‘You’ve got a contact, haven’t you?’

  ‘Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies. Perks of the job, you might say.’

  ‘Fair enough. I won’t pry. But you’ve got to have one, at least.’ I lit two and passed one over, and then I got stuck into the story about Lucy and the handkerchief and Lily’s cigarette card in the blue case and getting the bum’s rush from the copper at Tottenham Court Road.

  Harry thought for a moment and said, ‘I spoke to that girl—the one who helped you. Lucy, her name was, I remember that, but… Armstrong? No, that’s not right. It’ll come to me in a minute.’

  ‘I wondered if you’d be able to find out where she came from. Which centre, I mean.’

  ‘I don’t see why not. I can ask, anyway. But it’s all a bit complicated—nobody knows what anyone else is doing, most of the time… Armitage. That’s it! Lucy Armitage.’

  ‘It sounds right.’

  ‘I’m sure it is. I’ve met her before, you know. In Soho. She was meeting her young man. RAF, if I remember rightly.’

  ‘Yes, he was. I’ve seen her too, Harry, in the shelter at Soho Square. Only the once, but he was there with her.’

  Harry said, ‘Supposing I do find her, what are you going to do, Rene? I agree it couldn’t be her doing this, but if whoever gave her this thing is…who you think he is…it could be dangerous. It could even be him, you know. The boyfriend.’

  ‘That’s why I need to talk to her. She could be in danger too, couldn’t she?’

  ‘Well, not necessarily. He might only be interested in…in…’

  ‘Tarts? Then what’s he doing with her?’

  ‘I don’t know, but…yes, that’s what I meant.’ Harry looked embarrassed. ‘Rene, I’m sorry. It’s just that there are some queer people out there, and I’m worried about your safety, that’s all. Come here.’ He held out his arms.

  ‘I warn you, I’m not as light as I look.’

  ‘I don’t mind. Come on.’ He tapped his knee and I went over and sat on it and we had a cuddle.

  ‘I’ll be fine, Harry.’

  ‘Well…’ he stroked my face with the back of his hand. ‘If you only want to talk to her, I suppose it’s all right. It’s possible that Lily might have dropped it, or something, and she just picked it up off the street.’

  ‘I expect that’s what happened, Harry, but I’ve got to find out, because if it isn’t—’

  ‘If it isn’t, you will be careful, won’t you? I mean, you won’t do anything without telling me first?’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes.’ I leaned over and kissed him on the lips. ‘A real promise. Signed, sealed, and delivered.’

  ‘Good. I’ll see what I can do, then. If I find, out, what do you want to do next?’

  ‘I could write her a note. Just saying I’d like to return the handkerchief and thank her properly. I won’t mention the cigarette card. I thought I could ask her to come round here. I don’t know. Normally, I’d never…not a girl like that, and she might think it isn’t respectable, but I’ve got to do something, Harry, and she seemed…for one thing, she came crawling down all that way with that tablet for me, when she didn’t have a clue who I was and she could easily have been killed.’

  Harry looked a bit doubtful, but in the end he said, ‘I suppose it’s worth a try. But if I do manage to find the centre, I think I ought to take the note. The volunteers aren’t there all the time, and it might be a day or two. Besides…’

  ‘Besides what?’

  ‘Well, it’d look better, wouldn’t it? My being a warden. More official.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, you’re right. And you’re a darling. I’ll write it now, shall I?’

  ‘In a minute.’ He gave me another kiss, and we cuddled for a bit. I must say, Harry’s the perfect gentleman, he didn’t try to do anything else. I was sitting there enjoying it, when I suddenly realised how easy I could really fall for him, if I let myself, but I can’t let him get any funny ideas about trying to ‘rescue’ me, because it wouldn’t work.

  In the end, I said, ‘Come on, let me up, I’ve got to get this letter written, and then I’d better get round to Dora, so I can get that handkerchief back and give it a good wash.’

  Harry laughed and said, ‘There’s romance for you,’ but he let me get on with it, then he pocketed the letter and we had a nice farewell on the landing before he went back to the post and I went round to Mrs Lord’s.

  Dora was very quiet. I said hello, but she didn’t seem to notice I was there. It would have been better if she’d cried or done something, but she didn’t, just sat there. I sat down next to her and held her hand for a while, and then she said, ‘They’ve told me that Joe’s at the mortuary. They’ve said they’ll tell me when I can have him back.’

  I could imagine why it might take time—what that other warden had said about Mr Mitten being like a jigsaw puzzle, it would be the same with Joe: some poor person having to put enough bits together to make a complete body. I said, ‘I suppose they’ve got a lot to do, but I’m sure you’ll get him back soon.’ Just so long as she doesn’t want to see him, I thought.

  She gave me back Lucy’s handkerchief, and I gave her some bits I’d bought the day before—chocolate for Tommy, and a tin of cocoa and a few other things. She didn’t thank me, just sat there turning them over and over in her hands. Mrs Lord came out onto the landing with me afterwards, and said, ‘I’m that worried about her. She won’t eat, just keeps going back to the…you know…’ she jerked her thumb in the direction of where Dora’s flat had been. ‘She keeps talking about money, too, saying Joe had a pile of it hidden in the flat and she’s got to find it. Look at this.’ They’ve got this sink on the landing that they share with the others, and she pulled a basket out from underneath it, full of broken china and scraps of material and whatnot. ‘She brings it back. It’s all rubbish, but she won’t let me throw it away. I keep telling her there’s no money there, but she seems to think it’s valuable. She keeps coming out to check it’s where she left it.’

  ‘Oh, dear. I suppose it’s the shock. How’s Tommy?’

  ‘Out playing. He seems fine, but you never know with kiddies, do you?’

  ‘No. But I’m ever so grateful, Mrs Lord, you looking after them like this.’

  She shrugged and said, ‘Well, you do what you can…’

  ‘You are good. I’ve left a few bits and pieces with Dora, and I’ll be back round tomorrow—if you don’t mind, that is.’

  ‘’Course not, dear. You’re very welcome.’

  It was queer how I felt after that. Thinking of Joe in the mortuary made me angry, the idea that human beings can do that to each other, but then Mrs Lord being so kind made me think ther
e is good in the world, after all. But I suppose wars bring out the best as well as the worst in people, don’t they?

  What with worrying over Dora, and fretting about whether Harry’d be able to find Lucy Armitage, I’d got myself into quite a state, so this afternoon I thought I’d go to the pictures to see if I could take my mind off it all. There was a comedy at the Tivoli, with Arthur Askey, and I thought that might cheer me up a bit, but the minute I got inside the actual cinema, and it was dark and all I could see was the beam from the usherette’s torch, I just froze. It was like being buried all over again. I kept telling myself, just go in and sit down, you’ll be fine, but I couldn’t. No matter what I did, I couldn’t make myself walk into the dark.

  In the end I went home and gave Lucy’s handkerchief a good old boil up on the stove, then I got dressed up for work. Just as I was going out, I remembered Lily’s little blue felt envelope was in my pocket, and put it on the mantelpiece for safekeeping. Harry told me he’ll come round the shelter tonight and tell me how he’d got on with tracking Lucy down, so all I can do now is wait.

  Saturday 19th October

  Lucy

  Finally completed my letter to Tom and posted it on Wednesday, although heaven knows when it’ll reach him—letters take such ages, now. Told him all about Mrs Dorn’s baby—well, most of it—and about the mobile canteen and the ‘incident’. Such a nondescript word for a matter of life or death, isn’t it? Hope it didn’t sound too much like boasting, because I know it’s nothing, really, when you compare it to what the RAF do every day. However, I shouldn’t like Tom to think I’m doing nothing while he’s risking his life.

  I arrived home from the office yesterday—only half an hour’s delay, hallelujah!—and Minnie handed me a letter. She looked very reproachful, and I saw why when I turned it over: it was from Tom! Tried to be nonchalant, asking what was for dinner and whether she’d done all the blackouts, but fear I didn’t succeed too well; it must have been blindingly obvious that I couldn’t wait to read it. I tore upstairs the minute I could, flung myself down on my bed and ripped it open. It’s dated Monday— five days ago!

  It was short and very sweet. Old-fashioned. He hoped it wasn’t a liberty, but he likes me very much and wants to see me again. He’s got some leave coming up, a forty-eight hour pass, and he wants to meet me in London this evening—it only just reached me in time! At the bottom he put, You needn’t write back if this suits, because I may not get the letter in time. I had to stuff my knuckles into my mouth not to shout out loud from sheer happiness.

  I was worried about Minnie coming up and finding me reading Tom’s letter, so I put it back in its envelope and pushed it under my pillow, but a minute later I felt I just had to get it out again for another look, to reassure myself that it was real and I hadn’t just imagined the whole thing. In the end I simply lay there on my back with the letter pressed flat against my heart and only went back downstairs when I heard the siren.

  I’ve told Mums and Minnie about my escapade at the bomb site last week, but I didn’t mention it to anyone at work. Everyone’s heartily sick of bomb stories, and besides, Phyllis and Vi keep going into huddles and whispering about Mr Bridges, which is very off-putting, especially as they keep glancing at me while they’re doing it. I still haven’t plucked up the courage to say anything to Phyll, and probably won’t—the atmosphere is quite bad enough without my adding to it. As Mums would undoubtedly say, Don’t make trouble for yourself. Not that I’ve told her, of course!

  At the centre this afternoon, Mrs L and I were loading up the van when the woman in charge appeared and said, ‘Somebody’s been asking for you,’ and handed me a note. Then she pursed her lips and said, ‘I hope you’re not going to make a habit of this,’— obviously thinking it was a boyfriend—and I was so flustered I didn’t know what to say. Mrs L obviously had the same thought, because she just laughed when I said I’d got no idea who it was from and said, ‘It’s all right, dear, I shan’t pry,’ and tactfully removed herself to the front of the van while I opened it.

  Dear Miss Armitage,

  I hope you will not mind if I take the liberty of writing to say thank you for helping me. I would like it if you could come and see me soonest, I would like to thank you properly and give back the hanky that you were so kind as to lend to me. I do hope that you will be able to call on me at my address which is 14B Frith Street, Soho, WI. I am usually at home in the afternoon.

  Yours sincerely,

  Rene Tate (Miss)

  Well! I was astonished, and showed the note to Mrs L. ‘It’s the lady from those bombed flats in Wild Street, last week, the one in the tunnel. Saying thank you.’

  ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘She wants me to go and see her. Look.’

  Mrs L read the letter, and her eyebrows went up. ‘Soho. And, judging by the address, a flat.’ She gave me a meaningful look.

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think you ought to go on your own, dear. I’m sure this Miss…Tate…is a perfectly nice person, but there’s a lot of nasty business in that area, and you do hear these dreadful stories about the white slave trade. I do think it would be a good idea if you took somebody with you, just in case.’

  ‘I’m meeting a friend later, near Piccadilly, and I’m sure he’d come along if I asked him.’

  ‘I suppose you’ll be all right if there’s a man there, but you will be careful, won’t you? I mean, with the blackout and everything, I’m sure they—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mrs L. Tom’ll look after me.’

  ‘Tom…is that your young man, then?’

  ‘Well, yes.’ It was funny hearing him described like that, especially when I haven’t even told Minnie or Mums. ‘Yes, I suppose he is.’

  I thought about it on and off during the shift, and by the time we were finished and I’d smartened myself up, I’d decided that Mrs L is right and it’s a good idea not to be on my own. I read in the paper last week that the police have caught the West End murderer—as the press call him—but nevertheless, one does hear of awful things happening to girls in those sorts of places. I’m sure Tom won’t mind, not once I’ve explained, anyway.

  I can’t wait to see him!

  Saturday 19th October

  Rene

  This last week’s not been so bad, except that I didn’t see Harry at all and I went nearly mad wondering what was happening. The other warden kept coming to the shelter instead of him, and I thought, well, Harry can’t have any news, or he’d have told me. At least wondering if Harry’d found the right centre to leave my note for Lucy helped to keep my mind off other things. When he finally did come into the shelter, on Friday, I fairly flew at him. He said, ‘Sssh, you’ll wake everyone,’ and took me outside. He said he’d spent his afternoons off trudging round to all the local centres to find the right one, and eventually he’d managed it. I threw my arms round his neck and gave him a big kiss. He said; ‘I can’t stay long, Rene, but just remember—be careful.’

  ‘I’ve promised, haven’t I?’

  ‘Yes, but all the same… How are you, anyway?’

  I found myself telling him about the silly business with the cinema, and not wanting to go in, and he said, ‘I suppose it’s natural. It’s bound to be a bit difficult for a while. I tell you what, why don’t I take you to the pictures next week?’

  ‘It’s sweet of you, but you’ll never get the time.’

  Harry shrugged. ‘Depends on Hitler, but I can try. I can always have a snooze while you watch the picture.’

  ‘Charming.’

  ‘Well, you know… But apart from that…’

  ‘I’m not having nightmares, if that’s what you mean. I told you, Harry, I’m tough that way.’

  ‘I know. How’s your sister?’

  ‘Not very good, really. I’m worried about her, Harry. The neighbour—the one she’s staying with—she says Tommy’s doing all right, which is something, I suppose.’

  ‘Rene… About Tommy. Yo
u’re very fond of him, aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, yes, he’s—’

  ‘He looks a lot like you, Rene.’

  ‘That’s because, you know, family resemblance… Can’t see it myself, though.’

  ‘He’s yours, isn’t he?’

  You could have knocked me down with a feather. I meant to say ‘no’, but what came out was, ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Watching you with him…something about how you were, how you looked at him. And when you said you’d got no choice but to carry on working… I was thinking about it yesterday, and I put two and two together, that’s all.’ Harry paused, then said, ‘He’s a nice little boy, Rene. You must be very proud of him.’

  ‘He doesn’t know. No one does, except Dora. And Joe, of course, he knew.’

  ‘I won’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Please don’t. I want him to have the best chance, and… Please, Harry. It’s important—for both of us.’

  ‘I know. It’s all right, Rene. I understand.’

  ‘Good. How’s Albert?’

  ‘Getting greedier by the day. Be time to let him go, soon.’

  We had another nice kiss after that, and then Harry had to go. Sitting in the shelter afterwards, I thought, maybe he does understand. I suppose I shouldn’t have said I’d go to the pictures with him, but he’s so nice… Mind you, I might not be able to get into the cinema, even with Harry there. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it. Silly, really, but there you are. I got quite a decent night’s sleep after that. It’s easier with other people there, I think. I never thought I’d get used to it, with all the snoring, and people coming and going, and the smell, but you do. It’s better than spending the night in a bomb crater with a house on top of you, anyway.

  I’d no idea if Lucy would come. I thought the address might put her off, for one thing, because with a nice girl like that, well, they hear all these stories, don’t they? It was in my mind all through today that she might just ignore my letter, or write and tell me to keep the handkerchief, and of course I didn’t know if she’d actually got the letter or not, or when she might get it, or anything, and it was getting on my nerves something rotten, so when the knock on the door came at about seven o’clock I fairly jumped out of my skin. And when I saw her standing there, well, that was marvellous—at least, it was for a second, until I saw him.