by Annie Murray
‘Well, you’re the first person who thinks so,’ Pauline said.
‘We’ll come and keep you company, won’t we, Ian?’ Sylvia said, pulling him by the hand.
‘If you say so, my dear.’
Kitty laughed. She looked rather flushed, Sylvia thought, as if she had run from the bus stop.
Sylvia was still feeling guilty that she had not been able to go to the funeral with Kitty. It had been held in Wylde Green, right in the middle of one of Sylvia’s morning shifts. Kitty had asked timidly, as if she didn’t want to bother her, when her shifts were that week, and then said, ‘Oh dear, that’s a pity. The funeral’s on Tuesday morning.’ Sylvia had not liked to ask for a change at such short notice, when it was not for a close relative.
‘I’m sure Mom would go with you, if you like?’ Sylvia had offered. And Pauline had said the same, but Kitty had refused even to contemplate it.
‘You’ve done far too much for me already,’ she had said. ‘And it’s such a long way to go. I’ve got Auntie there, and her son. She’s quite a kind old soul really. But thank you for offering – it’s ever so good of you.’
Sylvia noticed now, as Kitty ate, that there was something very tense about her mood. She looked flushed and on edge. Poor thing, Sylvia thought, it must be terrible, being so alone; she’s ever so brave. And Kitty kept up a cheerful conversation, asking Ian about his day. She seemed fascinated by his job and often asked him about it.
‘I wish I’d been able to do something like that,’ she said as they had a cup of tea after her meal.
‘It takes quite a bit of training,’ Ian said, rather stiffly. Sylvia realized that Kitty enquiring about his work was one thing, but her imagining that she might actually be able to do it herself was quite another, in Ian’s book! Sylvia chuckled inwardly. Ian was not convinced that any woman could manage a job like his.
‘Kitty’s very brainy, you know,’ she told him. ‘Not like me.’
‘I’ve always been quite good with numbers,’ Kitty said. ‘But I’m sure there’s a lot more to it than that.’
‘Yes, a good deal,’ Ian said rather dismissively.
‘You must be ever so clever,’ Kitty said. Her eyes were shining and Sylvia thought how pretty she was.
‘Oh well, I don’t know about that,’ Ian said, crossing one leg over another. He was enjoying the attention.
‘Yes, you do,’ Sylvia gave his elbow a playful shove. ‘You know you’re a clever clogs all right.’
Ian laughed. ‘Well . . .’
‘I like clever men,’ Kitty said, getting up to take the cups and saucers into the kitchen. ‘I always think they should be cleverer than me – and you certainly are, Ian!’
‘Kitty,’ Sylvia said, seeing a long, dark smudge down her back, ‘you’ve got a nasty mark on your blouse. How on earth did you do that?’
Kitty looked startled for a moment. ‘Oh no!’ She twisted round to try and see it. ‘I’ll go and wash it. I must’ve rubbed up against something at the yard – you know what it’s like. I’ll just finish the washing-up, and then I’m off to bed. Night, all!’
As soon as she was safely in Audrey’s room with the door shut, Kitty stood by the cheval mirror and twisted round to look at the back of her blouse. Tutting with annoyance, she slumped down onto the floral eiderdown on the bed. All her smiling cheerfulness vanished. She lay back, exhausted and dispirited.
Never, ever was she going to let Joe Whelan anywhere near her again. He had lost any sign of caution or common sense, barging into the offices like that, making a complete mockery of her and of himself. She had wanted to die with shame. And to cap it all, he was waiting for her when she came out of work, lurking around like an old dog, even though she had made it clear she never wanted to see him again. Her cheeks burned with humiliation, thinking about what had happened.
‘For goodness’ sake, Joe!’ she erupted as soon as they were far enough away along the street. ‘Haven’t you made enough of an exhibition of us both today?’
And now he looked so slumped and defeated. The man she had initially got to know at least had more dignity about him. She marched on, trying to get as far as possible away from the yard and anyone they might know. Fortunately there was a distraction on Pitsford Street. A horse had fallen, pulling a cart up the slimy cobbles at the steep end of the road. There was a commotion and a crowd trying to help.
‘Ah, don’t be like that, Kitty,’ Joe said, trying to keep up with her. ‘You don’t know how I feel. I can’t live without seeing you. Why’re you being like this?’ He tugged at her sleeve to stop her and she shook him off.
‘Because . . .’ She turned on him, fiercely. She wanted to shout at him: Because you’re an old man – it’s an embarrassment having you following me around, and I don’t want to see you any more! But his face was so wretched, and she knew he wasn’t really a nasty man. She couldn’t say it like that.
‘I can’t stop thinking of you, girl.’ They stopped at the corner of a road, by a wall. ‘I can’t think of anything else. You’re sending me mad, so you are.’
‘Joe,’ she said desperately, but more gently. She had to be rid of him. The whole thing had become tiresome to her: he was pathetic and a burden. And gossip was flying around the yard. ‘We can’t keep on like this, can we? I’m young, and you’re married. It’s just not on, is it?’
Joe put his head down, as if in acknowledgement of the truth of her words. He was leaning against the wall with one hand; with the other he lifted his cap off and wiped his arm across his forehead. ‘God!’ he said miserably. ‘God in heaven. She knows – my wife.’
‘Oh, Joe – no!’ Kitty was horrified. This was all becoming too real, too messy and nasty. She longed for him to turn and walk away, to vanish.
‘Come with me.’ He took her arm and tugged on it. ‘I know it’s got to stop, Kitty. It will stop – from today. But have pity on a man. I need you: one last time, I promise. Just do it for me, just once more. I worship you, Kitty. Just set me right and I’ll leave you alone.’
‘What?’ she said, horrified. But she could see that he was in such a state that he could not think straight or master himself. ‘What d’you mean? Where?’
‘Anywhere,’ he said. They walked a short distance, then he pulled her in through the gates of the cemetery and along to a deserted corner.
Now, lying on Audrey’s bed, her eyes tight shut, Kitty could not stop remembering Joe’s frantic panting and thrusting against her. She had just let him, to get it over with, so that she could say goodbye and that would be that. He had pulled off her cardigan and undone her blouse, which rubbed against the wall and must’ve got soiled in the process. Her underwear still felt damp and sticky from the results of his exertions.
Kitty turned on her side and curled up, miserably. She’d have to go and wash out her things when no one else was likely to notice. But at least that was over. She was shot of him.
‘Don’t come near me again, Joe,’ she’d told him afterwards. Now that he had had what he wanted, he was full of agreement.
‘I know it’s wrong,’ he said humbly. ‘But you’re a very special girl, Kitty.’ In parting, he kissed her cheek so sweetly that she almost liked him again.
She lay now, feeling dirty and wrung out with exhaustion, and thought about the meal she had just eaten, sitting there with Sylvia and Ian. Sylvia with her man, who thought he was so clever and superior. Little goody-two-shoes Sylvia had everything. Kitty’s hand grasped at the eiderdown and she held a handful of it tightly. She was filled with a savage, bitter feeling and her mouth twisted.
When she first met Ian she had thought him a rather boring old stick. She could see that he thought himself a cut above Sylvia and her family, however polite he was. He was quite an attractive man, though: nice and tall, with good strong shoulders and, especially when he smiled, a pleasant-looking face. How would it feel to be taken in the arms of Ian, a tall, lithe man like that, instead of an old one like Joe? Hello, Ian, she imagined herself
saying and moving closer to him, closing her eyes as she lifted her face to him. And she could win him: he would be captivated, full of desire, unable to help himself . . .
Kitty forced herself to her feet to get undressed. Sylvia was such a dreaming, trusting sort, she thought. She never suspected the worst of anyone. It had been so easy to convince Sylvia last week that she was spending the day at Wylde Green, at her father’s funeral. She had set off, making them think she was off across town, when in fact she had spent the day at work as usual. It would never occur to them that she was not telling the truth – and she certainly didn’t want them thinking otherwise.
Twenty-Six
‘Look who’s here!’ Pauline called as Sylvia walked in, and a moment later Audrey appeared out of the back room.
‘Oh, you made it,’ Sylvia cried, and went to hug her. ‘Look at you!’ She stood back and admired the smart WAAF uniform. Audrey had taken her cap off, but she had kept her hair up, fashionably rolled back from her forehead and neatly rolled at the back. She obviously wanted the family to see her at her smartest. ‘Ooh, you feel thin, Audrey. Are they looking after you properly?’
‘I’m perfectly fine,’ Audrey said, and Sylvia could see that she did look fine, and happy and excited. ‘I’ve just had a dose of the flu, that’s all. Before that, I was putting on weight on stodgy WAAF food. Anyway, look at you, as well.’ Sylvia was still dressed in her work overalls.
For the moment they felt almost like strangers and greeted each other with new respect. They all sat round drinking tea and catching up with each other.
‘I’m beginning to feel left out,’ Jack complained. ‘It’s a bit much that I’m not old enough to join up.’
His mother turned on him. ‘You want to stay out of uniform, my lad,’ she said. ‘It’s different for the girls. Audrey’s not going to be flying any planes, are you?’
‘Not very likely,’ she said. ‘But that’s what I was going to tell you. I’m retraining – as a balloon operator!’
They all looked suitably stunned.
‘What’s a . . . ?’ her mother said. ‘What, you mean the barrage balloons? They don’t have women doing that – it’s a nasty heavy job.’
‘They do now,’ Audrey said. ‘And they train at Cardington, so I don’t even have to leave. I talked my CO into letting me transfer, because they’re recruiting. Anyone can take over the clerical stuff.’
Sylvia chose not to rise to this remark. Although she knew she couldn’t possibly do the clerical stuff, Audrey had not deliberately set out to be mean to her. In fact, Audrey seemed more relaxed and easy-going than Sylvia had ever seen her before.
‘Well, I never,’ their mother said. Sitting there in her apron, she suddenly seemed rather small compared with her two budding daughters. ‘Oh, Audrey love, do be careful. I hope you’re going to be all right.’
‘Well, yes,’ Audrey laughed. ‘I hope so too. But I’m sick to the back teeth of mouldering away in that office, I can tell you.’
‘So who’s this Kitty person?’ Audrey asked later. ‘Mom says she was bombed out?’
Sylvia explained a little. ‘Don’t worry – she’ll be moving out of your room.’
Kitty came back shortly and they were introduced. Sylvia was rather annoyed with Audrey. Despite Kitty’s sweet insistence that she must have her room back, Audrey was a bit offhand with her, Sylvia thought. She wondered if Audrey felt that she had been replaced in some way, which was of course ridiculous.
Audrey settled in, rested, popped out to see a few friends who were still about, for a while that first evening, and enjoyed making a fuss of all the animals.
‘No eggs taste as good as ours!’ she said, looking fondly at the hens.
The second evening, once everyone was home, they all sat round after tea, with the teapot on the table in its knitted cosy, listening to Audrey’s stories. Sylvia could feel her excitement about all her new independence and new friends. She talked about her pals she shared her sleeping quarters with, and about a new friend she had made called Dorrie.
‘She’s a scream,’ Audrey said. ‘We were in the sick quarters, had the place to ourselves, and it was the best rest cure I’ve ever had.’
‘It sounds as if you have more fun than work, down there,’ Mom observed from over her knitting.
‘Yes – d’you ever actually do any work?’ Jack asked. Dad chuckled.
They chatted and teased the evening away. Before it was too late, Audrey got up.
‘I’m going to hit the sack,’ she said.
She looked across at Sylvia. ‘Come and chat to me for a minute, sis.’ She rolled her eyes upwards to indicate that she meant in her room.
‘All right,’ Sylvia said. Surprised and pleased, she looked at Kitty, hoping she didn’t mind. ‘But I’ll need my bed soon too. I’m all in. I’ll be up soon, Kitty.’
‘You two go and catch up!’ Kitty said, smiling.
Sylvia sat on the bed in Audrey’s room and watched as her sister rearranged a few things pointedly, as if to say: This is my room. She asked Sylvia about work and talked about how excited she was to be changing trades again, chatting as she leaned towards the mirror to wipe off her mascara. Sylvia watched her sister: her tall, lean body, so intimately familiar, yet now also, in some ways, a stranger to her. Audrey looked slender and strong and even more magnificent, she thought.
‘So,’ Audrey said. ‘All set for the wedding?’
‘I think so. Marjorie’s doing a lovely job on the dress. Kitty’s helping her too – sewing on some pretty little pearl beads. She’s being such a help. You are going to be here, aren’t you? Or is being a bridesmaid not a priority in the WAAF?’
‘It should be all right,’ Audrey said. ‘I’ve already put in a request. Come hell or high water, I’ll be here, kid.’
Sylvia laughed. ‘You’d better! Your dress would be far too long for Kitty, if I had to get her to stand in for you.’
After a pause Audrey spoke in a different tone, her face still close to the mirror. ‘You know, you want to watch that one.’
‘Which one?’ Sylvia said, but she already knew Audrey must mean Kitty. Her heart pumped faster with the resentful irritation that only her sister could arouse in her. There she was, thinking they were going to have a nice cosy chat. ‘What d’you mean?’
Audrey stood upright suddenly and their eyes met each other’s in the glass. ‘You want to watch her with Ian.’
‘Ian?’ Sylvia burst out laughing. ‘Who – Kitty? Audrey, what the hell are you on about?’
‘Ian: remember him? The rather pompous – there, I’ve said it, sorry, but he is – man who is supposed to be your fiancé.’ She explained that she had been out that afternoon to see the mother of a school friend who had also joined up. ‘When I came back in, I knew Mom was out because she’d gone shopping, but I could hear voices. There they were, the two of them, in the back room, at the table, thick as thieves, playing checkers or chess or something.’
Sylvia felt a cold, instinctive plunge of fear inside her. Her instincts raced before her mind, which quickly caught up and told her not to be so ridiculous.
‘Ian was here? This afternoon?’ she asked carefully. ‘No one said.’
Audrey turned round then. Sylvia tried to find some joking or malice in her face, to say that her sister was trying to stir up trouble. But instead she saw genuine concern, almost an apology for saying anything. ‘He was here all right.’
Sylvia struggled to make sense of this. ‘I suppose he thought I was on an early shift as well and came to see me . . .’ She rallied herself. ‘Look, Aud, I don’t know what you have against Kitty. She’s a friend; she’s so nice and she does ever such a lot to help round here. It’s not what you think – that’s ridiculous!’
‘Sylvia.’ Audrey came and sat next to her, talking very seriously. ‘I’m not trying to make trouble for you, honest to God. I’m not jealous that you’re getting married or anything like that, as you might be thinking. You know me,’ she ga
ve a little laugh that made Sylvia feel suddenly fond of her. ‘Not one to get myself tied down, if I can help it. But that girl, Kitty, is a piece of work. Take my word for it. I’ve seen the type. There are a few of them around me at Cardington. Nice as pie to your face, but . . . There’s just something about her that’s not—’ She stopped as if she didn’t want to say too much. ‘You need to watch her, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Sylvia said, getting up to go. ‘I’ve heard enough of this rubbish. Why d’you have to come home and be so poisonous about my best friend?’
She went, feeling furious and churned up, to her own room, where she found Kitty climbing into her temporary bed on the floor. Kitty looked so sweet and pretty, and she glanced up and smiled as Sylvia came in. Almost all Sylvia’s doubts melted away. What on earth was Audrey going on about? She was imagining things; she’d just breezed in and was reading the worst into everything. But Sylvia just wanted to make sure.
‘I was just chatting to Audrey,’ Sylvia said, pulling back her bedcovers and adding casually. ‘She said Ian was here earlier?’
‘Oh, yes – didn’t I say?’ Kitty said through a yawn. ‘He was looking for you. I think he thought you were on an early . . .’
‘I did tell him,’ Sylvia said, lying down.
‘He must have forgotten. ‘Anyway, he didn’t stay long – just for a little chat. He’s so polite, isn’t he? A real charmer. I think he felt it would be rude not to stay and talk to me, even though of course it was you he really wanted to see. Then Audrey arrived, so he thought it was safe to leave, I think. He seemed a bit scared of her! He’s a nice chap – you’re very lucky, Sylvia.’
Although Sylvia was worn out from her day’s work, she lay awake for a long time. She tried to recapture her fury with Audrey. How dare she come back here, bossing people about and making accusations, saying such horrible things about her friend when she barely even knew her? But she had to admit to herself that Audrey, though bossy and opinionated, was not small-minded or spiteful. It was not in her nature.
