by Iris Gower
‘Eddie! And you believe that drunken Stephen’s every word do you?’
He became still. ‘Are you telling me it’s a lie? If you are I believe you, Kate, God, I want to believe you.’
She hung her head. ‘It’s true I let Stephen… he was frightened, flying into danger, he might not come back, ever. I felt sorry for him.’
‘So was he the only one you felt sorry for?’
She was silent a long moment. ‘No.’
‘Oh Kate, I worshipped you, I might have known it wouldn’t be true that you loved me, plain gormless Eddie.’ His voice was anguished.
‘I do love you!’ Kate pressed herself against him wound her arms around his neck, her hand on his hair. She felt the edge of his army cap. Soon Eddie would be off to war and he would go hating her.
‘You’d better go home.’ His voice was breathless. She could feel him hard against her. Experienced now, she slipped open his buttons and touched him; he was so taut his skin was like silk. He groaned. ‘Kate, please don’t, I’ve tried so hard to be respectful. I’ve worshipped you like a goddess.’
She drew him down on the ground and took control of him. He had no will to resist though when he entered her, he was crying bitter tears. It was over in minutes and he fell away from her still crying. She held him then for a long while and they lay like wounded animals together.
Overhead, the planes began to drone, German planes. The bombs exploded round them, the incendiary bombs lit up the world. It was like a party, but in Kate’s heart, it was more like a wake.
Nine
I was cold, my feet were wet, my stomach ‘felt as if my throat had been cut’ as Kate’s mum used to say. Anyway, my poor belly was empty and grumbling, I felt angry and miserable and all I wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep.
I found a barn at last and stumbled inside and pulled bits of straw over me for warmth. Straw was supposed to be warm, according to war hints you could even cook food in straw. I could hear the sound of some animal in the darkness but I didn’t care, I couldn’t go another step further not even if a cow sat down at my side and fell asleep with me.
I was dozing when I heard Michael’s voice, and I thought I was dreaming. I sat up when my name was called and I crawled to the door and peered out. I could see the dimness of a lantern quite near.
‘Michael!’ My voice quavered with weariness but he heard me. He came towards me at a run and I took his hand and pulled him into the barn.
He sat down and hugged me and then, as I winced, he began to examine my cuts and bruises. ‘The bastards!’ he said. ‘The Dixons did this to you I suppose.’
‘Well it was Georgie, Mrs Dixon was out feeding the chickens.’
He sighed. ‘Aye, well, she would be. Come on, let me get you home.’
‘Got the cart?’ I asked hopefully.
‘No, I’ve been searching on foot, thought you might be hiding somewhere after fat George came and told us you’d run away again.’
‘He could manage to walk then?’ I didn’t explain but Michael got the message and started to laugh.
‘Caught him where it hurt then? Good for you girl.’ He put his arm around me. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I can’t.’ I shook my head. ‘I just can’t go anywhere now, Michael, I’m tired and I hurt. Just cuddle me and let me sleep.’
‘I really should take you home.’
‘Put some straw over me, Michael, I can’t walk another step.’ I closed my eyes and leaned against the warmth of his chest. Now that was a chest: flat, hard, lovely to lie against. My eyes began to close and soon I could hear by Michael’s easy breathing that he was asleep. I cuddled closer and his arm closed around me and a bubble of happiness erupted inside me and I slept beside him like a baby till morning.
Aunt Jessie’s face was troubled when she saw us. ‘Where have you been all night?’ she asked, gesturing with her head that there were other people present. The ‘authorities’ I guessed.
‘We’ve been walking home,’ I said quickly before Michael could open his mouth. I knew instinctively that to tell the truth that we slept in a barn would be misunderstood by the man and Miss hag-faced Preston. ‘I’d run a long way from the Dixons’ house and I was lucky Michael found me when the dawn was just rising.’ I hoped that was the right thing to say, folk in the country set great store by the sunrise and sunset. Apparently it was.
Aunt Jessie turned my face up to hers and then held me at arm’s length and examined my arms and legs. Obligingly I lifted my liberty bodice and the bruises on my skinny ribs were purple and angry.
‘Duw Anwyl! Dear God, who has beat you so bad child?’ At that cry Miss Preston came tearing out into the hall. She looked at my bruises and to my shame pulled down my drawers.
‘Her lower abdomen seems unhurt, I don’t think there’s been a sexual assault,’ she said crisply, but for once there was a glimmer of compassion in her eyes.
‘No child should be beaten like this however difficult and disobedient they are,’ she said. ‘I shall have Mrs Dixon struck off the list of helpers and might even have her charged with assault.’
I knew she’d be wasting her time. Mrs Dixon was not in the house when George hit me—she’d claim I was as bad as him. Still, I tried a smile but by the lady’s stiff look it was more shark about to bite than grateful child.
Seeing I might be listened to for once I opened my mouth. ‘Can my sister Hari come to see me, I feel very sick.’ If my voice was tremulous it wasn’t all put on. I shivered—that wasn’t an act at all—and fell into a chair. My head was spinning and all I wanted to do was go to bed and sleep for ever.
I had my wish. The man and woman vanished abruptly. Aunt Jessie washed me, very gently wrapped me into one of her voluminous flannel nighties and tucked me up in bed. ‘Can Michael sit with me till I fall asleep?’ I asked humbly. ‘He’s like a big brother to me.’ That was an inspired touch.
‘Of course, darling girl. Michael, the cows can wait a few minutes for the milking, sit with our Meryl for a while.’
He sighed but came to sit with me and I took his hand. ‘My dear, dear Michael, you always come to my rescue, I love you.’
He ruffled my hair. ‘And I love you, you little imp. Now go to sleep, there’s a good girl.’
I pressed his hand against my cheek and I didn’t let myself drop off to sleep until Michael had released his hand and crept away.
By the time Hari came to see me I was feeling much better but still in bed on Aunt Jessie’s orders. They came into the room together, chatting like old friends, Aunt Jessie, all grey hair and pins and my lovely red-haired sister looking like she just stepped out of the pages of a model magazine.
‘Oh, Meryl, you look awful, you’re black and blue!’ She examined my face for a good spot to kiss me and then planted a kiss on my chin, which George had somehow missed. ‘That boy Dixon must be a real beast! If I got my hands on him I’d kill him myself.’
‘Don’t worry, the Germans might drop a bomb on him,’ I said encouragingly, ‘mind they don’t come here often.’ And then Michael came into the room.
I glanced quickly at Hari willing her not to put her foot in it. ‘Michael’s dad was sort of, well foreign,’ I said and, being intelligent, she got the message. ‘Michael’s my guardian angel.’ I wanted Hari to have the right impression of him. ‘Twice he’s been the one to find me when I ran away from the Dixons.’
Hari’s face was flushed; it must have been the heat of the fire Aunt Jessie had kept blazing in the black grate in my room.
‘I don’t know why they sent you back to that woman, they want a good talking to and I’m the one to give it.’ Hari sounded annoyed and as I thought of Miss Preston I felt sorry for her.
‘I did my best,’ Aunt Jessie said, ‘but that awful woman would send Meryl back to the Dixons. I think it was out of spite. Well, wait until her boss hears of this palaver, her head will roll believe me.’
I imagined a bird-faced head rolling and smiled even though it hur
t. Michael came forward and held out his hand to my sister. Hari took it at once and smiled, showing her perfect teeth.
‘Thank you for being so kind to my little sister,’ Hari said.
‘Hey!’ I protested, ‘not so much of the “little”. I’m growing up. Haven’t you noticed, Hari?’
Obviously not, her bright blue eyes were fixed on Michael and his on her. I could see they were mesmerized with each other. Hari was fascinated with my Michael just as I used to be about John Adams but in a more grown-up way. They held hands for a long time and Aunt Jessie looked at me with a sympathetic smile. In that moment, for the first time in my life, I looked at my sister Hari and I hated her.
Ten
‘You’re putting on weight Kate and you’ve stopped greasing your face, you’re going bright yellow like the rest of us. What’s the matter chick, lost your man?’
Kate nodded dumbly. She’d lost Eddie as surely as if he were dead. After the night he’d found out the truth and they’d coupled, desperately, in an act of goodbye; she had not seen him again. That was six weeks ago.
‘Didn’t come back from ops, eh?’ Doreen came to put her arm around Kate’s shoulder. ‘Look love, it happens to us all, they’re there one minute and then gone, there’s nothing we can do about it—see, love, it’s called war.’
Kate began to cry. She didn’t tell Doreen that Eddie had dropped her like a hot coal once he knew the truth about her past, but leaned against Doreen’s thin shoulder and sobbed.
‘He was the one,’ she stammered, I loved Eddie, I would have married him like a shot if he’d asked—’ she looked up at Doreen pleadingly—‘he even took me to meet his mammy so he did and his sister, he must have cared for me, mustn’t he?’
‘Course he cared for you, I never met my Geoff’s mam and now he’s gone she came to see me, asked if I had any pictures of him. Took them to be copied at the photographers, said he looked very happy with me and she was grateful.’
Doreen sighed. ‘I let him, you know, but he was careful, he used one of those thingies from the chemist.’
She looked over Kate’s thickening figure. ‘Yours not careful, eh?’
‘We only did it once.’ Kate looked down shame-faced as though studying her plain black working shoes coated in yellow dust.
‘Poor dab, caught first time, well it happens and it’s a damned nuisance. How far gone are you?’
‘Must be six weeks.’
‘Well, you can’t have it.’ Doreen squeezed her shoulder. ‘You can’t have a baby, not now, there’s a war on.’
‘Get rid of it you mean, how?’ Kate couldn’t believe those words had come out of her mouth.
‘I know a woman, she’s a good woman, knows what it’s like to be unwed and in the way. She’s clean and kind and usually it works without trouble. She’ll do it for a few shillings. I mean it for the best, love, but it’s up to you, mind.’
‘If I do it will you come with me?’
‘I’ll do more than that: you can stay at my place overnight then no one need know anything.’
‘Why are you doing this for me?’ Kate asked, ‘you hardly know me.’
‘You’re a workmate, risking your life like me with this damn powder and all those shells stacked up in the sheds.’ She looked a little sheepish. ‘And Moira, the midwife, gives me a couple of bob at the end of the year for helping, savings I call it though God knows we might not be here to enjoy our savings with the Luftwaffe over Swansea like a swarm of bees round honey. They’ll hit Bridgend one fine day, they’ll find out we’re here and all these shells and things will blow us to kingdom come.’
Kate heard the heavy thud of boots. ‘The old man is coming, better get back to work. Thanks Doreen, can I talk it all over with you later?’
Bob came into the shed, his face grim. ‘Disasters all over the country. London got a good pasting from those blasted Hun—the bastards flattened some of those nice London buildings. King and Queen won’t leave though, bless ’em.’
Kate looked at him and he caught her gaze. ‘No slacking then, girl, if the Queen can get about in the blitz and cheer folk up you can do your job right? Now get on with it.’
Kate felt like crying. There was no need for Bob to be so sharp.
‘Go easy, Mr Bob, sir,’ Doreen said gently, ‘she just lost her man, Germans got him, didn’t come back from the front see.’
‘Bad luck.’ He said it as if she’d lost a penny farthing but Kate nodded and lifted her empty buckets and began to trudge wearily across the rickety boards outside in the chill of the evening to the shed where the powder was kept.
It was dark by the time Kate climbed on the bus and sank into the seat she usually shared with Hari. The seat was empty as Hari was down country seeing to her kid sister. Meryl was always trouble but it seems this time she’d been given a bad beating by some horrible spoiled-rotten boy.
Would Hari bring her home? Kate hoped not, Meryl was far too sharp a kid for her own good, she saw things most grown-ups didn’t even notice. One day she’d be a newspaper reporter or suchlike if she lived that long.
Kate stared out of the window and saw her distorted reflection, eyes heavily ringed with shadows, nose looking angular and over-long. She closed her eyes and thought of Eddie with pity now as well as longing. He’d been called up, been sent to what they called ‘the front’, near enemy lines. He’d gone willingly, a broken-hearted, disillusioned man because of her.
She must have dozed because when the bus jolted to a stop she opened her eyes to see she was back in Swansea. The sea stretched like a band of steel across the bay, no hiding that from the German planes.
The hills of Townhill and Kilvey were blacker than the surrounding skies, hidden, crouched in shadow but once the flares were dropped—those chandelier flares that hung so prettily in the sky—the town would be at the mercy of the enemy bombers.
‘You’re early today, Kathleen.’ Her mother was lifting the heavy pot of thick broth from the hook over the fire. The smell of bacon and lentils filled the little kitchen and Kate felt like heaving. She sank into a chair and put her bag, holding the remains of her sandwich and her canteen of tea, on the floor at her feet and sighed heavily.
‘My arms ache from carrying those buckets of powder all day.’
‘Well, a lot of girls are doing the same thing, my girl, it’s war work, it’s that or the forces, or farm work, at least this way you sleep at home safe and sound.’
Her mother poured her a cup of tea from the cherry-coloured teapot; it was strong and hot and Kate drank it, grateful for the kind gesture rather than the tea itself, somehow tea didn’t taste the same these days.
‘One of your friends called for you, that Jenny, the one you used to work with at RTB, she wants you to meet her at the ice cream parlour but sure, if I were you, I’d go straight to my bed after supper, you look all in.’
‘I’ll see how I feel later.’ Kate wondered if she could summon the energy to go out tonight and yet anything was better than sitting in all evening listening to her mammy go on about the war and how in her day it was all different, in the first war the men were men and they showed the Hun that the British were not to be ruled by anyone.
As her mother filled the bowls with soup and cut great doorsteps of bread Kate heard the door bang open. ‘Paul’s home.’ The warning was unnecessary as her growing brother barged into the kitchen. Mammy had brought him home as soon as the blitz on Swansea had eased a bit. Mammy needed her brood around her she said.
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, take your time Paulie!’ Kate shook her head. ‘You’re like a homing pigeon—you know fine enough when the food is on the table.’
He scrambled on to a chair and frowned under his thick fringe of hair when his mother told him to go and wash his hands.
‘That girl wants to see you, the one you used to work with, said you’re going out with her, she’s coming for you about eight o clock.’ Mrs Houlihan pushed a bowl of soup Paul’s way and over her shoulder spoke to Ka
te.
‘You look tired but perhaps it would do you good to get out a bit, you been stuck in here for days and I’m tired of you under my feet.’
So that was decided then, she would go out. In a way Kate was glad to have the decision taken out of her hands.
‘Soup’s lovely, Mammy.’ She spoke between mouthfuls, preventing her mother from making any further comments. She’d wear her grey dress and her red shoes and that lovely red scarf Eddie had given her. Tears came to her eyes at the thought of sweet, darling Eddie but she ate doggedly and willed the tears away.
Later, arm in arm with Jenny, Kate tottered through the town towards Mario’s Ice Cream Parlour. Inside the huge blackout curtains, the room was bright, heavy with smoke. A couple of lads leaned over a table in the corner looking the girls over, much to Jenny’s delight. She preened and slid one leg over the other revealing a shapely knee.
Kate sat head down, not wanting to be seen. Stephen was among the gang of young men. She’d ‘been’ with him, let him into her drawers, he was probably telling the others about it now just like he told Eddie; they were leering and laughing raucously punching each other’s arms in the way that men did when they were excited.
Kate tried to talk to Jenny but they’d never had much in common and all Jenny seemed to want her for was company while she found herself some man to keep her happy.
To Kate’s horror Jenny invited the men to join them and they came hotfoot across the floor, pushing chairs into place between the girls. Stephen was beside Kate and put his hand in a proprietary way on her knee. She quietly removed it.
‘Don’t go all innocent on me now, Kate, you were willing enough that night outside the church, practically on a poor fool’s grave. Right juicy you were, too, a bit of all right, what boys? He pinched one of her full breasts, it hurt and instinctively she slapped his hand away.
‘You brazen bitch! Hot one minute and then all saintly, eh? What did I have then I don’t have now?’
‘You had fear,’ she said gently, ‘you were terrified, you begged for me to love you, you told me you were afraid of going to war.’
