‘I’m so frightened,’ Maisie said as she lit her cigarette. ‘I spoilt everyone’s Christmas and disappointed David. What if it does happen again?’
‘Come on now, Maisie, chin up. It wasn’t to be last time and you can stop saying it spoilt our Christmas. Yes, we were sad for you and David, but as Doctor Greyson said, you are young and healthy and the babies will come along soon enough.’
Maisie nodded. ‘Yer right. I was just feeling sorry for meself. I’d be grateful, though, if you would come with me to see the doc. I’ll not say anything to David before I know if I’m expecting or not. You won’t tell anyone, will you?’
‘Of course I won’t. Your secret’s safe with me,’ Sarah said. ‘Now, let’s have a cup of this tea before it becomes stewed. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to attempt to eat one of these rock cakes even if they have hardly any currants and are as heavy as bricks.’
‘Yer right, as usual.’ Maisie smiled sadly as she reached for one of the cakes.
Sarah nodded and grinned. ‘And just think, by Christmas you could have cause to be celebrating. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?’
Ruby climbed the steep steps from the Anderson shelter and looked around at the dew-covered garden. The signs were there for a lovely spring day and her garden still looked a treat due to the hard work of Bob and Freda. She stretched her arms and rubbed her back. However many home comforts she added to the shelter, she remained stiff and slightly sore after a night spent in a hole in the ground. At least it had been a quiet night despite the all-clear not sounding for many hours. There was no sign of smoke clouds, so with luck no one in Erith had suffered at the hands of the Luftwaffe during the dark hours of the night. She’d found it lonely in the shelter as Freda was on duty at the fire station. Granted, she’d had Nelson down there with her, but the dog simply climbed onto the bed next to her and snored the night away. At least he would be handy to see off any rats that came from the railway line that ran from the nearby docks. Vera reckoned there were hundreds of them. Ruby wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to the knowledge that Freda was on duty when most people in the town were huddling down in the shelters waiting for the all-clear siren. If anything happened to her, she’d never forgive herself for not putting her foot down and stopping this notion of riding a motorbike. Why, that was men’s work. This war had a lot to answer for. Would things ever be the same again?
Unlocking the back door, she checked that she had water flowing from the tap and filled a kettle. After an air raid there was always the worry that water or gas lines had been ruptured. Today was a good day and she prayed it was the same for others. Hearing the rattle of the letter box, she collected two envelopes and placed them on the kitchen table. One was for Freda; Ruby recognized the handwriting as that of the girl’s brother, Lenny, and put it to one side. The other was from Pat. She’d make her tea and a slice of toast before settling to read what her daughter had to say. There was just about time before she started her many duties of the day. ‘At least this war keeps me busy,’ she said to herself.
No doubt Pat would have something to say about her travelling to Cornwall and would try to put her off attempting the long journey. Bob had looked into how they could obtain travel permits and her family was resigned to Ruby travelling across the south of England. Bob had even looked into where they could stay so they were not imposing on the farming family who had put up her daughter and children this past two years. The day before they were to leave she would send a postcard to Pat informing her they were on their way. However, there was something that played on her mind about her long journey to Cornwall with Bob. It wasn’t something she could talk about with her daughter-in-law or granddaughter or, God forbid, Vera. Perhaps Betty Billington would be the right person to advise her? Yes, she would pop into Woolworths on her way to the WVS later that afternoon after she’d tidied the house and changed the beds. Hopefully Betty could spare her a few minutes for a chat. She could invite Betty round for a bite to eat as well. She’d been so good to young Freda, putting her up when she had a late shift at the fire station.
Nelson snuggled up to her leg and gave a pitiful whine. ‘Now, whatever is wrong with you, you silly old thing?’ Ruby said as she scratched his ear. ‘Hungry again, I suppose? Let’s see what I can find for you then we can take a walk up to Vera’s and see how she’s faring. I’ve not seen hide nor hair of her for a few days. It’s unlike Vera to be so quiet.’
Delving into the pantry, she pulled out a dish containing a few spoonfuls of rice pudding that had been saved for the dog and added a crust of bread that had seen better days. Scraping the rice from the bowl into one that was kept just for Nelson’s use, Ruby then broke up the bread and added a little cold milk. ‘You are a spoilt dog,’ she said and she placed the bowl onto the floor and stroked his head as he tucked into his food. ‘Times might be hard, boy, but I’ll not see you starve.’
Returning to the table to finish drinking her tea, Ruby opened the envelope. Thankfully Pat seemed resigned that her mother would be visiting and had given a telephone number for the farm, which Ruby was to ring when they arrived at the station. It seemed that Ruby would be sharing Pat’s bedroom at the farm and the barn had been cleared for Bob’s use. ‘That answers one of my questions,’ Ruby thought to herself with a wry grin.
Strolling up Alexandra Road with Nelson ambling by her side, Ruby found herself thinking how the rows of houses on each side of the road had escaped Hitler’s attempts to bomb the area. Granted, some windows were still boarded up from the blasts and a few families had moved away to the country, but all in all the road of bay-fronted homes had withstood the constant aerial attacks of the war. But for how much longer? she asked herself. At least it hadn’t been as bad as the Blitz and for the moment the smaller towns along the banks of the River Thames were surviving. ‘We’ve had some near misses, though,’ she muttered to Nelson, who cocked his head as if listening to his owner as she thought of Betty and Sarah caught up in the oil bombing of the Bexleyheath branch of Woolworths, and of how they all thought Maisie had been killed when the Running Horses pub had been bombed. ‘We should be grateful for small mercies, Nelson,’ she said with a sigh as they arrived at Vera’s gate. ‘Now, let’s see if Vera’s heard from the ministry about her putting up a homeless family.’
Nelson curled up on the pathway next to Vera’s front door as Ruby gave a sharp tap on the brass knocker. He knew he wasn’t welcome in the home of the woman who never spared him a biscuit or a fuss.
Vera opened the front door slightly and peered through the gap. ‘Oh, it’s you, Ruby. I thought perhaps it was them arriving. Get yourself inside and that dog can stay there. I don’t want hair or fleas on my furniture.’
Ruby bristled at her friend’s comments but decided not to bite back. Freda had recently bathed Nelson in the back garden and there was still a pleasant aroma of carbolic when he walked into the room. As for fleas, didn’t all dogs carry the odd one or two? ‘Now, tell me what’s been happening? I’ve not seen you for a day or two. You didn’t turn up for your shift at the WVS yesterday. We could have done with an extra pair of hands as we were packing comfort boxes. I stayed on for an hour just to see the job finished.’
Vera sat down in an armchair and indicated for Ruby to do the same.
It was a pleasant room, Ruby thought, but not as homely as her own best room as there was a lack of family photographs and a distinctive unlived-in atmosphere. Each to their own, she thought as she tried in vain to plump up an obstinate cushion.
‘The powers that be are having none of it and told me in no uncertain terms that not only was I to take in a family, but they suggested I do more war work.’ She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and sniffed into it. ‘I really don’t know what to do. You know as well as I that I work every hour God gives and I’m not one to shirk my war duties. Why, I’d go down the mines if it wasn’t for my fear of the dark.’
Ruby kept her grin in check and tried to look sympathetic. ‘Perhaps
you could put in a few more hours at the WVS and I know they are shouting out for more help at the British restaurant that’s not long opened in Slades Green. Maybe they’d be more sympathetic then. Is it really such a bad thing to help out a family who’ve been made homeless because of this war?’
Vera shot her friend a filthy look. ‘A fat lot you care. Why, you could take in someone else now your Sarah’s living with her mother-in-law and your George won’t be staying with you now he’s renting that house in Crayford. I’ve heard that costs a pretty penny?’
Ruby didn’t bite. It wasn’t anyone else’s business how much her son paid to rent the house up near St Paulinus Church in Crayford. Ruby was more relieved that he no longer had to travel from his home in Devon when his presence was required at the big Vickers factory in Crayford. No doubt her daughter-in-law had been showing off yet again and Vera had been a more than interested listener. ‘That’s their business, Vera, and yes I have thought about taking in someone else now my son isn’t staying in my home when he’s up this way doing his important war work. Why, I’ve not even changed the sheets on the bed yet. Give us a chance. Now, tell me, what’s happening?’
‘They are coming today. I thought it was them when you knocked on the door.’
‘They? Do you have some idea of who “they” are?’
Vera sniffed dramatically and picked at an invisible mark on the arm of her chair. ‘All I know is that it could be a family or even a couple of men working at one of the local factories. I just hope it isn’t men, what with me being a woman living on my own.’ She looked horrified at the thought. ‘They wouldn’t do that to me, would they?’
‘Calm down, Vera, I’m sure whoever they send to live with you will be respectable and you’ll get on with them like a house on fire. Don’t forget, you’ll also be paid for taking them in.’
Vera visibly brightened. ‘Well, that’s as maybe, but what if they eat me out of house and home?’
Ruby sighed. This was hard work. ‘Whoever they are, they will have their ration books and will have to abide by the ration regulations just like the rest of us, so stop your worrying. Now, I wanted you to know that I’m going to visit my Pat down in Cornwall for a while. Will you keep an eye out for Freda and Nelson while I’m gone? There shouldn’t be any problems, but I’ll feel better knowing someone’s watching number thirteen while I’m away. If there’s a problem, you can always give Sergeant Jackson a shout.’
Vera forgot her own problems for a while and showed interest in Ruby’s news. ‘A holiday, is it? It’s all right for some. I can’t think of the last time I had a bit of a holiday, what with the war and everything.’
‘It’s not really a holiday. I’m missing my grandkids and want to see them before they grow much older.’
‘I wouldn’t call it essential travel,’ Vera said. ‘I’m surprised you managed to get a travel permit or did your George have a hand in it? Or perhaps it was Maisie’s husband? They both seem to be able to pull strings when they need to.’
Ruby stood up to leave. Sometimes there was no talking to Vera and today was one of those times. ‘I’ll leave you to it as I’ve a lot to do today, just as I know you have. Thank you for the offer of a cup of tea, but I don’t have that much time to sit about chatting. Idle hands and all that . . .’
It was as she closed the door that Vera realized she hadn’t even put the kettle on, let alone offered her a cup of tea. She didn’t understand Ruby at times.
6
‘You look exhausted, Freda,’ Sarah said to her friend as she stopped at her counter. It was a quiet afternoon in Woolworths and Sarah was able to have a few words without disrupting the girl’s work. She’d taken on Betty’s job of inspecting the shop floor and keeping an eye on the staff so that the manager could try to catch up with her paperwork.
‘I must say I’ve felt brighter,’ Freda said with a grin. ‘But last night was the last of my shifts at the fire station and I’m off on my training course from tomorrow. I can’t wait. In two weeks’ time I’ll be an official dispatch rider for the Fire Service.’
‘I’m surprised you’ll have time to work at Woolworths, what with dashing off on a motorbike all over the place. Who’d have thought when we first met that the shy young thing I knew then would turn into such a brave woman?’
Freda stopped polishing the glass at the front of her counter and looked earnestly towards her friend. ‘You’ll never know what it meant to me to meet you and Maisie that day I turned up for my interview. It changed my life. I’d never leave Woolworths. The company has been too good to me to do that. But all the time we have this war to fight I feel I have to play my part. I’m just fortunate that Betty is allowed to let us work odd hours so we can join the services and fight Hitler.’
‘I’m with you all the way there, Freda. That’s why Bob is training me to be an air raid warden. I can be of use, keep my job here and take care of Georgina – with help from the family.’
‘What did Alan say about you joining the ARP? It can be a dangerous job.’
Sarah gave a small smile. ‘He was none too pleased, but we had a long chat about things and he realizes now I have to play my part, just as he does. As long as Georgina is cared for he is happy enough.’
‘But what if he has to start flying again? He is almost over his injuries so I don’t suppose he will be able to teach the young pilots how to fly Spitfires for much longer,’ Freda said.
Sarah looked glum. ‘I know. It’s been playing on my mind for a while now. Part of me knows he should fly again and I know he wants to, but I’m so afraid of losing him.’
Freda slipped from behind the high mahogany counter and hugged Sarah. ‘Just remember that lightning doesn’t strike twice. Alan will be fine.’
Sarah nodded her agreement, but deep inside she felt that even her darling husband would have trouble avoiding the German planes and getting home safely to his wife and child.
After composing herself, Sarah moved on to where Maisie was beckoning to her by waving a roll of paper above her head. She was busy working on a window display they had discussed with Betty, which showed a section of an aeroplane wing, along with patriotic posters and several collecting tins. The people of Erith had been most generous with their donations to raise money to build new fighter planes. ‘My goodness, whatever have you got there?’ she asked as she took the poster from Maisie and unrolled it. The picture showed a photograph of a bombed-out Woolworths store somewhere in England with the words, ‘If you think we’re suffering, take a look at theirs.’ ‘My goodness, whatever next,’ she grinned.
‘That’s not what I called you over for,’ Maisie whispered. ‘Look behind you over by the knitting-wool counter.’
Sarah peered to where Maisie was pointing. ‘Is that . . . ?’
‘Yes, it is. I spotted him outside the shop and now he’s crept in. He doesn’t seem to be looking at the goods but is keeping an eye on the staff door.’
‘Hmm, do you think he is up to something?’ Sarah asked with a frown on her face.
‘Don’t be daft. We’ve seen him a few times now and it is always Betty he is watching. I reckon he’s got a good idea of when Betty is on the shop floor and that is why he is here. He could be after robbing us when we empty the tills.’
A smile crossed Sarah’s face at her chum’s words. ‘Honestly, Maisie, you’ve been watching too many of those Clive Danvers films at the Odeon.’ The friends were big fans of the handsome spy and made a point of watching the films whenever they came to Erith.
‘We’ve seen him outside the store, don’t forget, and didn’t Freda say she saw him standing across the road outside Misson’s ironmongers the other week as we were shutting up shop?’
‘It does seem a bit of a coincidence now you come to mention it,’ Sarah agreed. ‘But what should we do about it? We can’t really call the police just because we recognize a man.’
‘No, but we can have a word with him. Look, he’s moved over to the door of the staffroom. Let’s g
o nab him. We can grab Freda on the way. Follow me.’
‘But . . .’ Sarah was too late to stop Maisie and had no choice but to follow her along the polished wooden shop floor, past counters and the occasional shopper. She caught her beckoning to Freda as she headed towards the tall, distinguished man, who now had his hand on the handle of the staff door that led upstairs to the offices and canteen. Perhaps Maisie was right after all, she thought.
‘Excuse me, sir, can we help you?’ Maisie said in a stern voice.
The man froze. A look of horror crossed his face. ‘I . . . er . . .’
‘That door leads to a private part of the store, sir,’ Sarah said, trying to sound authoritative.
‘I was looking for a Miss Billington. I need to talk to her about something private,’ the man said as he tried to compose himself after being confronted by three female shop staff. He started to open the door.
Maisie took him by the arm and almost pushed him through the doorway. Freda took his other arm and Sarah closed the door behind them so as not to attract attention.
‘If you would follow us, please, sir,’ Maisie said as she guided him up the steep stairway and towards Betty’s office.
‘Be ready to call the police,’ Sarah whispered to Freda as they followed behind. ‘This is most peculiar.’
Maisie knocked on Betty’s door and walked straight in without waiting for an answer. She pushed the man into a chair and stood in front of him. The look on her face defied even the devil to move from the spot. ‘Miss Billington, we’ve spotted this bloke hanging about the shop more than a few times and we think something fishy’s going on.’
‘Now, look here,’ the man said, trying to stand up before Sarah and Freda, who were standing behind him, pushed him back into the seat.
Betty brushed a stray hair from her face and removed the spectacles she used when working on the heavy ledgers. She looked from the serious faces of the three staff members to the man, who by now was very flustered. ‘Can someone explain exactly what is going on here?’
Christmas at Woolworths Page 8
