by Molly Green
Chapter Thirty
New Year’s Eve 1943
‘We best go over a few things,’ Dora said, when they arrived in Coventry. ‘I warn yous, it in’t no picnic carryin’ coal. But it’s vital for the factories to keep goin’ – the ones that have survived the bleedin’ Jerry – so far, that is.’
Ronnie felt a rush of excitement. This was what they’d been preparing for – actually seeing something worthwhile for their efforts. This was how Pathé News had enticed her to become a boatwoman. Then she realised the implication of what Dora was saying.
‘Coventry was bombed heavily at the beginning of the war, wasn’t it?’ Ronnie said.
‘Yes.’ Dora concentrated on lighting her pipe in the wind. ‘That were a bad night. I weren’t too far away when it happened. The sky were that red and yer could hear them bombs all night. Whole town smashed up. Shops, factories, homes … and their cathedral.’ She shook her head. ‘That were a great shame. Not that I ever went inside, mind. But I went ter have a gawp the followin’ day and it weren’t a pretty sight.’
Ronnie noticed Dora’s face had paled as she took some furious puffs of her pipe.
‘Will we have the opportunity of going into the city after they finish loading up the coal, Miss Dummitt?’ Sally asked.
Dora stared at her. ‘If yer really interested, the bus goes in quite frequent from where we’re loadin’. Best thing about Coventry for yous, I reckon, is to go in and have a bath. For me, I don’t care if I never see the place again s’long as I live. The main thing is we’ll be loadin’ up the boats first.’ Her sharp eyes landed on Ronnie and the others, one by one. ‘Before we get there yer need to carry out my instructions to the letter. If yer don’t – and even if yer do’ – she grinned at them, showing the gaps in her teeth – ‘the coal dust – well, it’s grit – will get everywhere. In yer hair, up yer nose, in yer throat, and yer won’t help swallowin’ some of it. It’ll be in yer clothes, yer underwear so you’ll be itchin’ and scratchin’. It’ll be on every surface in the cabin … so yer have to prepare. Before they load, yer need ter pick up the floorboards and stack them at the fore end so’s to keep them clean and dry. And mind how you do it – they’re bleedin’ heavy – and be careful of the underneath side – it’ll be slick with all the oil and water. Then bolt the cabin and engine doors and pull the hatch cover over so’s the dust don’t fly while the coal comes through the chute. Got that?’
‘Yes, Miss Dummitt,’ Ronnie joined in the chorus.
‘And you, miss?’ Dora’s glare went straight to Angela.
‘Yes, of course, Miss Dummit,’ Angela answered with a sniff.
‘Then make sure yer say so next time.’
Somehow the thought of all this preparation didn’t worry Ronnie in the least. She’d always loved a challenge. Jessica was not so sanguine.
‘We need to wrap our hair up in a scarf,’ she said. ‘Have you brought one with you, Ronnie?’
‘No, but I’ve got my woolly hat.’
‘I brought two scarves,’ Jessica said, ‘so you’re welcome to borrow the other.’
‘Thanks, Jess. I’ll see how I go.’
‘What do you think about a trip into the city?’
‘I’m in two minds.’
‘I’m definitely going to have a look round. It’ll be something to tell my grandchildren one day.’
‘Don’t you have to have children first for that to happen?’ Ronnie teased.
‘It would seem so,’ Jessica said, and Ronnie wished she hadn’t made such a remark when she noticed a sadness in her friend’s attempt at a smile.
When Dora and her two teams arrived at the Newdigate collieries loading bay, the wind had got up nearly to gale force.
‘I should never have washed my hair,’ Jessica grumbled, trying to tighten her scarf for the dozenth time. ‘It’s too slippery to keep this damned scarf on, but I wanted it to be clean for when we go into into Coventry.’
‘The way Dora was talking, you’ll have to wash it all over again anyway,’ Ronnie said with a grin, pulling her woolly hat further over her forehead.
‘Miss Dummitt to you, miss,’ Dora said as she jumped into the engine room to do her inspection. Without bothering to wait for a reply she said, ‘Right, get them floorboards up.’
Ronnie heard Jess grumble under her breath as the two of them bent down to begin lifting the boards. Dora had lifted several on her own by the time Ronnie and Jessica had struggled with the first one.
‘Slide ’em on their sides to the fore end and careful when you go under them cross beams … No, don’t straighten up yet, miss!’ Dora’s voice was shrill. ‘Yous’ll do yerself an injury with them chains.’
By the time Ronnie had moved ten of the twenty-six floorboards with Jessica’s help, she was exhausted. Dora had made carrying the rest of them seem effortless.
She gave them a smile of triumph. ‘Yous’ll soon build up some muscle doin’ this work,’ she said. ‘Now get everythin’ sealed up and I’ll check on the others.’ She disappeared.
‘I’m not sure I want to have muscles,’ Jessica muttered. ‘It’s not very fetching on a woman.’
‘Now you know how I feel,’ Ronnie grinned.
The men loading the boats were a cheerful lot, calling out to one another as they deposited the coal into the chute to fall into the hold.
‘All right, love?’ one of them called to Ronnie. She held up her thumb in reply. ‘Then stand on the pile of coal and grab those girders on the chute to move yer boat along ready for the next load comin’ through.’
Thankful she was wearing thick gloves, Ronnie did as she was told, all the while terrified she wouldn’t get it right – or worse, slip on the pile of coal. But to her immense satisfaction she felt the boat glide gently along.
‘Stop!’ The man held his hand up. ‘That’s it. Here it comes again.’
Another load landed in the hold.
‘Now flatten the pile with these,’ Dora said, suddenly appearing. She handed Ronnie and Jess a shovel each and stood watching them for some time, then nodded. ‘Good. Now we need ter pull the boats back to the moorin’ rings as there’s a queue behind us gettin’ impatient.’
In all, the loading hadn’t taken longer than two hours, but Ronnie was more tired than she cared to admit with all the shovelling, then finally helping to sheet up to stop the coal getting wet.
‘Makes it look nice and tidy, too,’ Dora said. ‘Same with all the cargo.’
Every muscle in Ronnie’s body ached handling the heavy sheeting with Jessica and May. They still had to take the boats back to their moorings and thoroughly scrub the cabins which Dora had warned would be in a bad state with all the coal dust. That would probably take at least an hour to get them clean enough to pass Deadly Dora’s inspection.
As it was, with everyone, even Angela and Dora, rolling up their sleeves, getting the boats in shipshape was a major task. What dust hadn’t settled on every possible surface, even though they’d so carefully covered everything in sight, was still floating in the air. By the time they’d just about finished, two more hours had slipped away, and Ronnie’s back ached worse than when she used to spend half a day bending in the garden at home.
‘Anyone want tea? she asked, feeling she couldn’t do another stroke.
‘We all do, miss,’ Dora said. ‘Just get that kettle on.’
Ronnie picked it up. ‘Oh, it’s covered in dust.’
‘Are yer sayin’ yer not?’ Dora said with a triumphant grin.
Ronnie looked down at herself. She was filthy. Her hands were black and greasy. She supposed her face was as well, by the looks of the other black faces.
‘I don’t think it’s just me,’ she chuckled. ‘We look like a bunch of chimney sweeps.’
Dora gave a hearty laugh, and everyone except Angela joined in.
Ronnie made the tea and handed round mugs, Dora slurping hers almost in one go, then giving a loud, open-mouthed sigh of satisfaction before lighting her pipe.
‘Is anyone goin’ inter Coventry for a bath?’
‘I’d love one, but I’m too tired,’ Ronnie said.
Dora gave a few puffs of her pipe. ‘Let’s see. On the way we’ll tie up at Sutton Stop. There’s plenty o’ water taps so yer can have a good wash in the cabin. And we can check for any post. Best of all there’s a good boaters’ pub, the Greyhound. That’s where we’re headin’ tonight … in case yous’ve all forgot it’s New Year’s Eve and we’re goin’ out. No exceptions – even you, Ver-ron-eek. So yous best get washed and put yer glad rags on. We’re havin’ fish ’n’ chips, for which I’m treatin’ and then we’re off to the pub where I’m standin’ yous all a drink – just one, mind. We meet outside the boats at eight o’clock sharp.’
‘Do you know, I had forgotten about New Year’s,’ Jessica said when Dora, May and Sally had gone back to Persephone. She grinned. ‘So we’d best get crackin’, as Dora would say.’
‘I’m not going,’ Angela said. ‘I’ve had enough dust down my lungs for one day so the last place I want to be in is a smoky pub.’
Feeling guilty, Ronnie crossed her fingers hoping that Jess wouldn’t try to persuade Angela otherwise.
Although Sutton Stop was only a short journey along the canal from the collieries, once they’d tied up and filled the water cans, the girls were becoming irritable.
‘I’m washing my hair of all this filth right now,’ Angela announced when they were back in the cabin.
‘No, you’re bloody not,’ Jessica flung at her. ‘You can do it after Ronnie and I have gone. You’ll be nice and quiet on your own. But until then, Ronnie and I will be using the water.’ Taking a penny from her trouser pocket she looked at Ronnie. ‘We’ll toss who goes first. Heads or tails?’
‘Tails never fails,’ Ronnie said, laughing.
Jessica threw the coin in the air. ‘’Fraid it does, love,’ she said. ‘It’s heads.’
As soon as Ronnie had taken her turn to wash her hair and every inch of her body in the hand bowl she felt a million times better. It was as though she’d washed away her exhaustion and with the help of Jessica’s small hand mirror she hoped she’d managed to make herself look presentable for the evening. Remembering the dress May had lent her for the dance, she wished she had something nice to wear. After all, it was quite special to welcome in another year. She sighed. Maybe this would be the year the war ended.
Jessica looked her up and down.
‘It won’t do, Ronnie,’ she said. ‘Not for New Year’s Eve.’
‘No one’s going to take any notice of me,’ Ronnie protested, not nearly as bothered as she’d been on the night of the dance.
‘That combination of navy skirt and blue blouse looks like a school uniform,’ Jessica said, frowning. ‘I can at least lend you a top.’
Five minutes later Ronnie was wearing a long-sleeved red top with a scooped neck and a pair of Jessica’s pearl studs on her earlobes.
‘That’s a lot better,’ Jessica said, ‘though we have the usual shoe problem.’
‘You’d better ask Miss Dummitt if you can borrow hers again,’ Angela said with a smirk, looking up from her magazine. ‘That’s if she doesn’t want to wear them herself tonight.’
‘I shall be wearing my brogues,’ Ronnie said, ignoring her and putting on one of her old jumpers.
‘At least there’s no snow this time,’ Jessica grinned, ‘so the brogues won’t be as noticeable as the wellies.’
Ronnie laughed. ‘What an evening that was.’
‘And your Michael didn’t seem to mind one bit.’ Jessica joined in the laughter. ‘In fact, I think he was intrigued.’
Ronnie blushed, aware of Angela’s eyes on her, and her lip curling in an ugly manner.
‘Shows what taste he has,’ Angela muttered.
‘Are you ready?’ Jessica said pointedly to Ronnie.
‘Once I get this second jumper on.’ Ronnie pulled a baggy piece of knitwear over her head and reached for her raincoat. ‘Right. Now I’m ready.’
‘Happy New Year,’ Angela called after them in a sarcastic tone.
Stomachs full after a delicious fish and chip meal, the group led by Dora walked a hundred yards on to the Greyhound. From the laughter emanating from inside, a large crowd must have already gathered for the long evening ahead. Dora pushed open the door. Angela was correct on one thing, Ronnie thought, as the smoke hit the back of her throat, sending her straight into a bout of coughing.
‘What yer havin’ ter drink, ladies?’ Dora said.
Ronnie hesitated. The last proper drink she’d had was the punch at the dance, and it might have contributed to her somewhat outrageous behaviour of dancing barefoot.
‘What about a sweet sherry?’ Jessica said, glancing at her.
‘Oh, yes, that’ll be nice.’ At least she’d sampled it one Christmas.
The other three quickly gave their orders and Dora headed straight for the bar, pushing her way through the mostly male drinkers, leaving Ronnie and the others squashed into a corner, with people still coming through the front door.
Dora was back in less than two minutes, a grin spread across her face.
‘Good thing I made a bookin’,’ she said. ‘Dick’s saved us a table.’ She jerked her head. ‘Through the arch by the other fire.’ Her glance fell on May. ‘Yous can come with me, miss, ter help carry the drinks.’
Ronnie followed Jessica and Sally through the archway, Jess bending low so as not to knock her head against the beams. Most of the tables in this smaller room were occupied by couples. Several of the men eyed the girls as they walked over to the vacant oblong table which had a piece of card propped up by an upturned beer mug in the centre with ‘RESURVD’ scrawled on it.
The three of them removed their coats and hats, chatting about their day, but soon the conversation turned to the missing trainee.
‘It’s awful to say it, but I’m so pleased Angela decided not to come tonight,’ Sally said. ‘What a misery she is. Never got anything good to say about anyone.’ She sent Ronnie and Jessica a mischievous grin. ‘I’m just so pleased Dora swapped her and me over so I don’t have to listen to her constant “poor me” act.’
‘I doubt she’ll stay,’ Jessica said. ‘All she likes doing is steering and there’s a lot more to it, and many more dirty, heavy jobs she’s not keen on tackling.’ She leaned back and lit a cigarette. ‘If she does decide to leave it’ll be good riddance, so far as I’m concerned.’
‘Dora’s certainly unbending, isn’t she?’ Sally said. ‘Did you notice how she called us “ladies”? I’m pretty sure that’s a first.’
‘Shhhh!’ Ronnie warned. ‘Here they come.’
Dora and May put the trays on the table, and Dora took a jug of ale and a mug and set it in front of her chair at the head of the table.
‘Before we git started I need the lav. Shan’t be a mo.’
She picked up her canvas bag and still in her coat and hat disappeared.
The girls chatted on until Jessica looked at her watch.
‘Dora’s been gone twenty minutes. Do you think she’s all right?’
‘Shall I—?’ Ronnie started, then spotted a woman coming through the archway. ‘Dora!’ she said in an undertone.
The others followed her gaze. Dora was almost unrecognisable. She was wearing a plain fitted black dress which transformed her stocky figure. She’d smoothed her hair into a tidy knot, leaving a few yellow tendrils at the nape of her neck. But what immediately drew Ronnie’s eye were Dora’s feet. She was wearing the very shoes she’d lent her for the dance at Leamington Spa! They made Dora appear to glide over to the table, and Ronnie noticed several appreciative pairs of eyes following the woman in black.
Dora smiled as she sat down. ‘Well?’ she said challengingly.
‘You look marvellous,’ Ronnie blurted, having sipped half of her sherry. ‘Those shoes are so pretty. To think I never got the chance to wear them.’
Dora seemed to bask in the praise
of the others. ‘I’ve decided to git my teeth fixed,’ she stated to everyone’s surprise. ‘No good bein’ dressed to the nines if there’s black gaps in me gnashers.’ She roared with laughter as she poured a huge mug of ale and gulped a quarter of it in one go. Then she turned to Ronnie.
‘Yous is brave, Ver-ron-eek.’
‘Why?’ Ronnie braced herself.
‘Sittin’ next to me,’ Dora chuckled.
Ronnie gave a timid smile.
Dora looked round at the others. ‘Yous all worked like real boaters terday,’ she said. ‘Can’t fault any one of yer, so well done.’
‘If that’s the case, it’s down to you, Miss Dummitt,’ Jessica said, raising her glass. ‘A toast to Miss Dummitt – or Deadly Dora as she’s known on the q.t.’
Ronnie gasped at Jess’s cheek but Dora grinned.
‘To the wenches,’ Dora said, raising her mug, then slurping a few more mouthfuls. ‘May yous all soon have yer own boats without my nose pokin’ in at yer.’
They all laughed and began chatting amongst themselves, though Ronnie was aware Dora was being a little left out. She finished her sherry and, feeling bold, said, ‘Miss Dummitt, may I ask you something rather personal?’
‘What would that be?’ Dora said, narrowing her eyes at the smoke emanating from her newly lit pipe, which Ronnie privately thought spoilt the effect of the black dress.
‘You hinted before that your lovely evening shoes were special and I wondered what might have been the occasion.’
There was a deathly silence between the two of them. Only the chattering and laughter in the room reminded Ronnie of just where they were. Dora looked at her and pulled her mouth into a bitter line. She refilled her mug from the jug of ale and took some deep swallows. Ronnie wished she could vanish into the air. She’d gone too far.
