An Army of Smiles

by Grace Thompson

  Rosie smiled and said sadly, ‘Lucky you. I wish he’d invited me. You wouldn’t fancy swopping would you, and going to stay with my Nan?’

  Being assured by Baba that it was definitely not a ‘single room only’ weekend, Ethel agreed. She had never been to London and, air raids apart, she thought it would be exciting.

  Baba had been offered a lift in a friend’s car and made sure he scrounged enough petrol to get them to the station. Sitting on the train in uniform, and with just a small suitcase, made the start of their weekend exciting. Knowing there were no emotional complications made Ethel feel relaxed, prepared to enjoy it even more, and her attitude towards Baba was affectionate and warm. This was such a treat. With nowhere to go on leave, she usually stayed in camp and often helped out others when asked, simply to make the time pass. Normally a weekend off meant long hours to fill until Kate and Rosie returned with news of their brief holiday. This time, thanks to Baba, she too would have a story to tell.

  They had bought a newspaper and studied what was showing in the West End, planning a theatre and a late supper on their first night. Sunday was to be spent walking through some of the parks and just seeing the sights. Their train back to camp left at seven fifteen and whatever happened, they had to be on it or face being up on a charge.

  They found their hotel and checked in and after leaving their cases and having a quick wash, they went out on to streets that were surprisingly busy. Arm in arm they went by underground and bus to the theatre and as they were nearing the front of the queue and about to buy their tickets, the air raid siren filled the air with its wailing.

  With an arm around Ethel’s shoulders, Baba led her back out on to the pavement. They followed the crowd to the street shelter, squashed into the damp, overcrowded building that seemed to Ethel less safe than the tin hat and slit trench she was used to.

  ‘It’s claustrophobic in here after being outside, watching the skies,’ she whispered.

  He pulled her closer to whisper, ‘I’m not complaining, mind. Lovely this is.’

  ‘Stop it, Baba, you promised to behave.’

  ‘I will, but I won’t pretend to like it. Here, come under my coat, it’s not that warm in here. I can feel the damp seeping out of the walls, can’t you?’

  ‘You should have seen the first canteen we opened,’ she laughed, squeezing closer to him, sliding an arm around his waist, welcoming his warmth. Snuggling up to Baba was no hardship, she admitted, and being in a strange place among strangers she was glad he was there. More than glad. She tried not to admit it to herself, but being so close to him was exciting.

  The first bomb fell very close and dust filled the air. Her nostrils were filled with what she described as a ‘dead buildings’ smell. It brought back to her mind the old farm barn where she had found her sister but she quickly tried to brush away the painful memory.

  She would have preferred to have been outside, where she could watch what was happening. Claustrophobia was easily encouraged while locked in a shelter with heaven knew what going on outside and facing the possibility of damage sealing her in. Other explosions were heard but they were a long way off and when the all clear sounded they sighed with relief. ‘I thought for a moment we were going to be hit, didn’t you?’ Ethel said as she began at once to move towards the entrance.

  ‘No,’ he said scornfully. ‘Nothing bad will happen to you while you’re with Baba Morgan. He’ll look after you.’

  She patted his face playfully in the restricted space and he caught hold of her hand and kissed it slowly, the dim lights of the shelter making his eyes dark and mysterious, the eyes of a man she didn’t really know. Excitement filled her and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

  ‘Why are they taking so long to get out?’ he asked a moment later when the doors hadn’t opened and no one had moved on.

  ‘Now we don’t want no panicking, d’you hear me, ladies and gents?’ a voice called. ‘But we’ll have to wait a while before we leave. There’s something stuck against the door.’

  Voices murmured and rose into a babble of alarm. Ethel clung even more tightly to Baba and took deep breaths, holding back her fear. The same voice called to them to be quiet. ‘Be patient, and wait quietly. The wardens know we’re here and they’ll get things sorted as soon as they can – in the meantime, why don’t we have a sing-song? That’ll help the time pass.’ There was a low groan of dismay from the rest.

  ‘The British spirit is all very well, but being a captive audience an’ ’avin’ to listen to that is treating us unfair,’ someone muttered, as the strains of ‘Keep the Home Fires Burning’ began at the other end of the building.

  ‘Why the ’ell don’t they choose somethin’ cheerful for once?’ another complained. Their grumbles were lost as more and more joined in the well-known choruses.

  ‘We’ll miss some of the play,’ Baba whispered into her hair, kissing her at the same time. Her forehead, her cheek, moving closer to her lips.

  ‘Baba—’ she warned.

  ‘But I’m scared, Ethel,’ he defended poutishly. ‘I need to be comforted by a beautiful woman.’

  Ethel said nothing. The desire to comfort him was too strong for her to be flippant. Her voice would give her away, her voice and the way her heart was beating, so close to his. She just hoped that by the time they returned to the hotel the feelings he was generating would have faded.

  It was not for the first time that she wondered whether her father had been right and she was going the way of a wicked woman. To convince herself she was thinking stupid thoughts she pushed him away and joined in the singing with the rest.

  When the doors opened it was a surprise at how much light there was. With more traffic on the road than she was used to at home, the faint lights for each vehicle made sufficient contrast to see reasonably well. As a country girl she was accustomed to moving about with far less. She had no difficulty finding the edge of the pavement, but when Baba took her arm she didn’t resist.

  Chapter Seven

  Albert came into the canteen one morning when Ethel was alone and told her that Walter was on his way.

  ‘He’s passing through on the way to a camp outside Dover, but will be here for a night or two because of the transport arrangements.’

  ‘With luck we might not see him,’ Ethel replied. ‘At least we’re warned and can get out of the way if we see him coming.’

  ‘Unfortunately you won’t be that lucky. He isn’t allowed to get off lightly and he’ll be coming to the canteen to do some painting.’

  ‘Any chance of us changing our days off? I’m sure one of us will have a grandmother’s funeral to attend.’

  Albert shook his head, unamused by her joke. ‘I don’t see how I can call the other shift back from leave.’

  Smiling, Ethel told him not to worry. ‘I can easily put him in his place,’ she assured him.

  Unfortunately for her, Walter saw her the moment he arrived. He had been given the rest of the day off, and when he saw her walking casually across the field to where the mechanics repair crews and riggers gathered for their mid-morning break, he felt a surge of excitement. Now he’d get her! He hurriedly checked a map and found that he was more than two hundred miles away from her home. A long way but it was the best chance he’d have, he’d have to get time off somehow, and fast. If he delayed she might easily have moved again and the chances of finding her a second time were remote. It was surprisingly easy to plead sickness and ask for the following day off. He left straight away and after a long train journey, then buses and walking when necessary, he reached the town nearest to Ethel’s home with only a couple of setbacks.

  Fortunately he had memorized the names of places in the vicinity and, with the buses having blackboards on which their destination was chalked, he managed reasonably well. He was sitting under the beech tree opposite the house by midnight, thankful that the weather was mild, and settled to wait among the beechmast under the leafless branches wrapped in his greatcoat. He munched the
sandwiches he had fortunately remembered to pack, warmed himself from the two flasks he had brought, one filled with soup, the other containing coffee, and, wrapped in groundsheet and blanket, he slept.

  He woke early, chilled and stiff but excited at the prospect of Ethel’s unpleasant surprise. Moving through the field opposite the house and sliding down the bank into the road a bit further along, he walked past the house and glanced in. He saw the big man with his shock of red hair passing the window and shuddered. There was no way he was going to knock on that door. Dai Twomey and his son were the type to thump first and ask questions later. He had a note prepared, giving the address of the place where Ethel was to be found, and this he left on the seat of the motorbike.

  He waited a while and was gratified to see the man come out dressed in the heavy clothes of a motorcyclist. The man picked up the note and read it, then shuffled his feet and looked around as though expecting its author to appear. Walter shrank behind the protection of his tree.

  He was certain the man was Ethel’s father. He could see him quite clearly and guessed he was about sixty years old. He was standing with shoulders bent forward and curled inward – as though he slept in a barrel, Walter smiled. He had a huge belly that the thick clothing failed to hide and a face lined by too much drink and endless cigarettes. Yes, it was Dai Twomey holding the note, and from the grim expression on the man’s face, he wouldn’t be planning a loving greeting when he and Ethel met.

  Thank goodness his message hadn’t been found by the brother. He had visions of the young man running up the bank to where he was hiding and half murdering him. He felt the trickle of fear slither down his spine. Then he forgot thoughts of failure. He had succeeded, his ingenuity had brought Ethel her comeuppance. She’d regret the day she turned him down so publicly. She’d have time to think about how she had got him caught stealing from the store and ruined his career. Her father, her violent and angry father, now knew where to find her. With an insouciant swagger, Walter cut across the field, walked to the bus stop and by evening was back in camp.

  He went into the canteen as the three girls were about to close. He carried a decorator’s ladder and without a word to them stood it against the wall and went to collect tins of paint and some brushes. Then he stood and watched Ethel serving chips and spam to two young airmen, and Kate flirting as she dealt with others at the net bar. There was an amiable smile on his face.

  ‘Hello, Ethel,’ he said after a while had passed and no one had greeted him. ‘Glad to see me back?’

  ‘Aren’t there some latrines needing your attention?’ she replied.

  ‘You won’t be so cocky one of these days,’ he said in a hissing whisper.

  ‘Go away, Walter,’ she sighed, and Kate and Rosie joined in supporting her.

  ‘This man annoying you?’ one of the airmen called.

  Walter turned away, giving Ethel a wide, knowing smile, and left.

  ‘Bothering me? That little squirt? Not a chance!’ But there was something in the man’s knowing smile that bothered her.

  It was Friday and their weekend off. Once the lunch was over they were free until the following Monday morning. Baba, Kate, Rosie and Ethel were going to the pictures. Baba had arranged a lift in one of the lorries going into town and two mechanics were going with them.

  The three girls hid in the back, covered with some clean sacks as the driver was not allowed to carry passengers on that particular journey. After the pictures, they went to buy fish and chips as they waited for the lorry to return to pick them up and Rosie found herself talking to one of the airmen from Scotland, a man called Connor. He seemed quiet and rather shy and she warmed to him at once. He wasn’t as attractive as Baba, of course, but Baba was arm in arm with Ethel and had eyes for no one else. Connor had a wonderful accent and his voice was soft and intimate. She wondered if he might ask her out. Perhaps this would be one of the times she’d say yes.

  They all alighted from the lorry a short distance from, but in sight of, the gate. The guards were usually blind to such things as giving lifts, specially when it was the valued Naafi girls. It was a long walk into town and the buses were not that frequent.

  The driver moved on and the six young people were walking, laughing, happily planning another such outing, when Ethel’s father appeared. He grabbed Ethel, who screamed. Kate and Rosie clung on to her and tried to pull her free.

  ‘You’re coming home with me,’ he shouted, throwing Kate and Rosie aside and leading Ethel away from the gate.

  The three men struggled with him and Dai pushed them away with ease. Baba leapt on the man’s back and, with hands clasped, pulled on his throat. Dai shook him off and with one hand hit him and knocked him to the ground with as little trouble as swatting a fly.

  The guards saw the trouble and ran to help. Within moments there were seven men trying to hold the man. His strength was phenomenal and long minutes passed and more men joined in before he was handcuffed and restrained.

  He was arrested and taken into town, Ethel being given the assurance that he would be kept overnight and possibly longer. She looked very thoughtful.

  ‘With Dad safely locked up, it’s my chance to go and see Mam and get an explanation,’ she told Baba.

  ‘I’ll come with you, but I’m not much use, am I?’ he said sadly.

  ‘We all think you were very brave,’ Kate said, and Rosie nodded vigorously in agreement, her blue eyes wide in admiration.

  ‘I think so too, Baba, but I’d rather go on my own. Mam might not talk anyway but she’s less likely to if there’s anyone else there.’

  Ethel was able to leave soon after breakfast the following day. By exchanging shifts with others she had until Tuesday to sort out the problems at home.

  When she reached the bus stop for the first stage of her journey, Albert was waiting for her, sitting in the driving seat of an MG midget and gesturing for her to get into the passenger seat.

  ‘Where have you been hiding this?’ she asked, ‘and where d’you think you’re going?’

  ‘It’s mine for the day. I hope we aren’t stopped though, the petrol in it is the wrong colour!’

  When petrol was unavailable, some of the pilots managed to fill their cars with the high octane fuel used for their planes. Strictly illegal, spot checks were sometimes made on cars carrying RAF personnel. Ignoring the danger of heavy fines and disciplinary punishments, Ethel jumped in. She had seen the men riding in these cars and none used the low door so she imitated them by jumping in, falling in a heap half on the seat and half in Albert’s lap. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact it set the mood for the journey, and they were laughing as they waved to the guards and drove through the gates.

  When her mother opened the door to them she burst noisily into tears. ‘Ethel! At last! Why didn’t you write? Tell me where you were? I’ve been so worried.’

  ‘How could I tell you where I’d gone, you’d have told Dad and what happened yesterday would have happened sooner.’

  ‘Yesterday? What happened? Your father’s been arrested.’

  ‘I know! He tried to kidnap me and bring me home!’

  ‘Shall we go inside?’ Albert suggested and Molly Twomey suddenly realized that she hadn’t moved from the doorway. ‘Come in, come in. Of course you can come in, it’s your home, isn’t it?’ Although the words of welcome sounded sincere, Albert noticed that the agitated woman looked up and down the road nervously and he guessed at her fears that her husband might suddenly appear.

  ‘My home? Not any longer, Mam, and unless you give me a few answers I won’t be coming here ever again.’

  Molly pressed herself against the wall in the small entrance to allow them to pass then followed them through to the living room at the back of the house.

  ‘Now, I’ll make myself scarce, shall I?’ Albert suggested. ‘While you and your mother sort out what you’ve come to sort.’ He intended to stand guard outside, to be able to warn them if the dreaded Dai Twomey appeared.

  ‘No
, Albert. If you will, I’d like you to stay.’

  He looked doubtful but agreed. He sat near the open door leading to the front of the house, hoping that he might at least hear the sound of someone approaching and be able to get Ethel out through the back.

  ‘Tea. I’ll make us some tea.’ Molly moved towards the kitchen but Ethel held her arm and led her back to the armchair close to the fireplace.

  ‘Later, Mam. First I want you to tell me why Dad was so angry and why Glenys… died… in the way she did.’

  ‘How do I know what makes your father lose his temper? He’ll never change. You know very well he’s always been violent. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all the months he’s spent in prison?’

  ‘I remember very well. I also know that just before Glenys died he became much worse. He knocked you practically unconscious, dislocated my arm, and drove Wesley away after giving him a beating. Sid disappeared and my sister killed herself rather than go on living in the same house as him. You have to tell me why, Mam.’

  Tears flooded her mother’s weary eyes but Ethel hardened her heart. She had to know the truth and this might be her last chance.

  ‘A cup of tea first, then we’ll talk,’ Molly sobbed.

  ‘Now, Mam. Just tell me what I’ve done to make him so wild with me.’

  ‘He isn’t wild with you, Ethel love, it’s the rest of us.’

  She looked around the room avoiding Ethel’s eyes, her tears escaping and running down her cheeks. Ethel felt ashamed of bullying her mother but knew she had to insist. She stared, willing her mother to talk. ‘Tell me, Mam.’

  ‘Well, the truth is, I’m not your Mam at all.’

  ‘What?’

  Of all the explanations Ethel had dreamed up as the reason for the family row, this was a complete surprise. Her heart was racing, and suddenly she didn’t want to hear any more answers. But she knew that if she walked out now the truth would be a question mark over her life, tormenting her for ever. ‘Then who am I?’ she whispered as she stared at her mother in disbelief.