Soldier Girl

by Annie Murray

  Head on one side, she gave a wistful smile through her tears. ‘I don’t know as I could ever face going back there.’

  Molly listened, astonished. How lucky some people were, having mothers who they were so fond of, who they could love and miss!

  ‘I hope if I ever have children I can be like her,’ Cath said in a soft voice. She stared ahead of her for a moment. ‘The day they buried her – it was May time, just gorgeous the day before, and the apple blossom was out, just perfect. I picked an armful of blossom – oh, it was so lovely! I wanted to put it on her grave. And the next morning, when we went up to the church, which is on the side of the hill, it came on to rain. God, it was Irish rain all right, came across the side of the hill in sheets, and I can remember standing inside the wall of the church, by the big crucifix, holding my flowers and trying to keep them from spoiling. But it was hopeless – the rain lashed them all to pieces . . .’ She shook her head, the tears running down her cheeks. ‘D’you know, since that day I’ve never believed in God or Jesus or anything else about it. We went in to Mass and I knew the priest would have told me to offer it up and everything. And I just knelt there looking at Mammy’s little coffin up at the front there, with my crushed flowers on it, with Jesus looking down, and I thought, God, if you’re even up there, you’re a bastard and I hate you for letting Mammy die. I don’t want anything else to do with you. I’ve never been back to Mass since. Daddy couldn’t make me – he never went himself. Now and then he’d just stand out with the other men. It was Mammy who went.’

  She wiped her eyes. ‘So here I am.’

  Molly was really touched. ‘That sounds terrible,’ she said, sincerely.

  ‘I’m not even close to my brothers really. Except my youngest brother, Donal – I write him now and then. But the others . . . some of them were so much older. You’d think growing up in the same house you’d have more in common, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Oh – I don’t know,’ Molly said.

  ‘Are you close to your brothers and sisters, Molly?’

  ‘No – I’ve only really got one brother – the other went off years back. No – I wouldn’t say we’re close – not at all.’ How much could she say? she wondered. There wasn’t much she wanted to say about her family. ‘I wasn’t close to any of ’em. That’s why I was keen to get away.’

  The two girls smiled fondly at each other. The smile from Cath’s pretty face warmed Molly’s heart more than she could have ever said.

  Two beds away, both with their backs to them, sat Win and Honor. Win, in tones of eternal patience, was trying to teach Honor how to darn her stockings.

  ‘What’s up with the Beak?’ Cath whispered. ‘She’s a bit of a sad case ain’t she?’ Honor cried herself to sleep every night. Win had come over a couple of times to try and comfort her, but was soon driven back to her own bed by the cold. Lena had had the odd weep as well, and said she was missing her brother. But so far, neither Molly nor Cath had shed a tear. However tough the army was, in many ways it was better than life at home.

  ‘She’s not bad really,’ Molly said. She’d told them about Honor coining the nickname ‘the Gorgon’ for Corporal Morrison and it had gone round the whole unit. Everyone called her that now.

  They watched Honor. Molly thought she had never met anyone so strange, so alien and different from herself.

  ‘That’s it,’ Win was saying. ‘It’s really quite easy. Just weave the needle back and forth like that – then the other way and you’ll have covered the hole – see?’

  ‘Oh, thank you so much!’ Honor intoned in her nasal voice. ‘I do feel so very hopeless – we’ve always had servants to do everything. I never even went away to school like you.’

  ‘Well you pick up a fair bit there, inevitably,’ Win said, getting to her feet. ‘Can you manage now, d’you think?’

  ‘Oh yes, I think so. Thank you!’

  As she moved away, Win half turned and saw Molly and Cath watching her. Being a naturally friendly girl, she seemed about to smile, but then, as if registering who they were, she just nodded and walked away. Cath grinned. ‘That was a bit of a straight look. I don’t think she knows what to make of us.’

  ‘I don’t s’pose she does,’ Molly said. She imitated the cut-glass tones of some of the other girls further along the hut. ‘I s’pose she’s never met rough types like us before.’ They saw Win glance back at her, frowning.

  There was a growing atmosphere of tension in the hut, which at the moment ran along class lines. Molly felt as if the likes of Win and Ruth looked down on herself and some of the others for being rude and childish – and the more it went on, the more rebellious and childish she felt. But she told herself she didn’t care. She’d made a friend, and that was the most wonderful feeling of all.

  Eleven

  The first week of training was already almost over, and Molly and Cath were firm friends. Lena kept to herself a lot in the evenings, writing letters to Paul, or lying hunched miserably on her bed, just not seeming to want to be sociable.

  ‘She seems ever so caught up with that brother of hers,’ Molly said, puzzled, as she and Cath walked to the NAAFI for a cup of tea one afternoon. ‘She’s a bit of a wet rag really.’

  ‘I know – I mean, it must be a worry to her,’ Cath said, ‘but there are limits. There’s nothing she can do. You’ve got to get on with your life.’

  Molly was about to remark that she wouldn’t lose any sleep over her own brother, when a cheerful voice called out, ‘Hello there, stranger!’

  ‘Billy! ’Bout time!’ Now life might start to get a bit more interesting around here! ‘Where the hell’ve you been? I’ve been looking out for you all over the place!’ Apart from that time during drill, she hadn’t seen him at all since they arrived.

  ‘Well – I get about!’ Billy grinned. He had a pink complexion and a face that looked as if it had taken a few punches. He nodded towards the NAAFI. ‘Coming in for a cuppa?’ The two women followed him in.

  ‘This is Cath, my mate,’ Molly said as they queued up at the counter. Billy and Cath nodded at each other.

  ‘All right, Cath – how’re you getting on?’

  Molly was tingling with life suddenly. They bought their cups of tea and sat at one of the tables.

  ‘Bet you got it in the neck for calling out to me the other morning,’ Billy said, seeming amused. ‘You’re a case, you are.’

  ‘Ah well,’ Molly shrugged, offhand. ‘It was worth it to see you, Billy boy.’ It felt as if they’d known each other a long time, just because each was a familiar face. ‘What was you up to with that big spade then?’

  ‘Oh – I’m one of the coke shovellers,’ he laughed. ‘Us blokes have to do the heavy work around here. How d’you think you get any warm water first thing of a morning?’

  ‘I thought I heard a racket first thing,’ Cath said.

  ‘Yeah, well that’ll be us stoking up.’

  Molly took a sip of her strong, sweet tea. ‘Ah – I needed that.’ She looked deep into Billy’s eyes. That always worked well. She knew how to hook a man. ‘It’s ever so nice to see yer.’

  They talked about camp life for a bit, and when Cath had finished her tea, she tactfully got up and left them to it. ‘See you later, Molly!’

  Soon after she’d gone, Billy asked casually, ‘D’yer want to come out one night, Molly?’

  ‘Yeah – you’re on!’

  ‘You’re not allowed out of camp this week – first week and that.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know as I’d let that stop me!’ Molly laughed, leaning closer to Billy. ‘D’you know of a good place to go? It’d just be nice to see yer. You know – spend a bit of time together, like.’ She could feel herself working on him, as if she was programmed to do it.

  ‘You’re all right you are, Molly,’ Billy laughed. ‘What about tonight? We could come in here if yer want . . .’

  Molly leaned even closer. ‘What about we sneak out – just you and me? I’m sick of being stuck in ’ere.�
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  Billy sniggered. ‘Like that is it? But what if we get caught . . . ? We’ll get a roasting.’

  ‘We won’t. We’ll work it out somehow.’

  Molly told herself she couldn’t care less about army authority – so what if she got caught for sneaking out? What was the worst they could do? This was not the whole truth though. Over her days so far working under Phoebe Morrison, the woman had begun to get under her skin. She found in herself a childlike desire to please her, to try and win her praise. When it came to kit inspections, she had been outstandingly successful. She found wearing uniform a relief – she didn’t stand out because of her old make-do clothes, and she kept herself as smart and clean as possible. When Phoebe Morrison came round to inspect their hut one morning and said, obviously surprised, ‘Very good, Fox, keep it up,’ the glow of those words lasted all day, as well as the startled looks on Win and Ruth’s faces. When she put her mind to it and didn’t fool around, she was good at drill. And she thrived on praise, starting to look out for ways she could please Corporal Morrison especially.

  But there was another side to Molly that railed childishly against the rules, that felt she’d never amount to anything so she might as well spoil it all now. By the time she met Billy in the evening she was in that sort of defiant mood, all ready for naughtiness and daring. God, she wanted to get out of there and get some drinks inside her!

  They’d arranged to meet near the NAAFI canteen again. Molly made sure she was a bit late. She wanted Billy to be waiting, not her, wanted him to see her walking towards him. Even in the unbecoming ATS uniform she knew that with her figure, her belt pulled nice and tight, she could make quite an impression. She knew the moves, walking sinuously as if along a tightrope, swaying her hips; she’d seen her mother do it often enough, though many men were too scared of Iris to come near. But the two of them had the same curving figure.

  The effect was marred somewhat by the fact that as well as being bitterly cold and slippery underfoot, it was already dark, and she was only able to be sure Billy was waiting for her once she got really close. She saw the tip of his cigarette glowing in the gloom.

  ‘That you, Billy boy?’ she called softly.

  ‘Over ’ere, Molly.’ Billy pushed himself off against the wall.

  She came up close, smiling, breathing in the rough tobacco smoke. ‘Umm, that’s nice,’ she said.

  ‘Want one?’ He patted his pocket.

  ‘Ta—’ She took one and he lit it for her. The smoke felt nice, rough in her throat, part of the excitement. ‘Let’s just get away from here,’ she said. ‘Somewhere we can be alone – just you and me, Billy?’

  To her disappointment, Billy stalled. ‘We’d best not, you know. You’ll only end up spending half the night in the guard room. T’ain’t worth it. It’s only a day or two more and then you can go out anyway.’

  ‘Oh but, Billy – it’s Friday night! You chicken?’

  ‘No – it just ain’t worth it,’ he said firmly, as if to a child. ‘You’re bound to get caught – take my word for it. Come on – we can go in ’ere and have a sit down together. I’ll take you out next week.’

  ‘Promise?’ she wheedled. She wanted booze, excitement, and to show what she was made of.

  ‘Course – come on.’

  ‘Take my arm, Billy.’

  He seemed a bit surprised by this, but Molly pushed her arm through his. She wanted to make sure everyone knew she’d made a killing as they walked into the canteen – the tea-sipping types like Win and Ruth if they were in there. After all, she might not be a goody-goody like them, but she knew how to get a man all right!

  The air inside was heavy with smells of cabbage, stew and the singed jam in the roly-poly pudding, mixed with smoke and the fug from lots of warm young bodies in uniform – which had its own musty smell. The place was crowded with young people drinking from beer bottles and sipping mugs of tea and chatting together. Molly saw a couple of the new recruits from her hut, Doris and Lily from Nottingham, and she waved at them, but there was no sign of Win or Ruth.

  ‘Most of our lot are in the hut darning their stockings,’ she said scornfully, as she and Billy found a space at the end of a table where they could squeeze in.

  ‘I see that one from on the train’s here,’ Billy said, nodding along the table. Molly saw Lipstick Lips Marguerite at the far end, in animated conversation with a young officer, and rolled her eyes at Billy. To her surprise, halfway along the table she spotted Honor, seated with two young men, one on each side of her, both of whom seemed to be paying her rapt attention.

  ‘Blimey,’ she said to Billy, ‘there’s old Blarting Beak – see the blonde there. Hardly knows her arse from ’er elbow, that one.’ She felt a bit disloyal saying this. Honor was all right really. She just said it for effect.

  Billy glanced along at Honor and to Molly’s surprise said, ‘Looks a bit of all right though. But a bit posh for me.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Molly said, affronted. What on earth was it about Honor that men found attractive? ‘She’s right out of your league, sunshine.’

  ‘Want a cuppa tea?’

  ‘No – get us a beer, will yer?’

  Billy went over to the counter and brought back two bottles and glasses. There were screams of laughter coming from that end of the room. The cook, a male in this case, had an apparently endless supply of disgusting puns for almost every item of food, and some of the girls were enjoying this, including Doris and Mary. Others sat looking po-faced.

  ‘So – how’re you settling in?’ Billy asked.

  ‘Oh, it’s all right, I s’pose,’ Molly said. She couldn’t describe her true mixed feelings, how much she wanted to please, to do well, and at the same time, every time she was given an order she immediately wanted to do the opposite. She felt as if she was possessed by a two-year-old infant who wanted to scream ‘NO’ each time she was asked to do anything, then resented being told off.

  ‘I’ve had enough of all that polishing buttons and cap badges and that . . .’ This was not true, either. She liked it. ‘And you should see the state of my feet! All blisters!’

  ‘Oh, those’ll soon go,’ Billy said easily.

  ‘How long’ve you been in, Billy?’

  ‘A few months. I was Reserved Occ – munitions factory – but I kept on until they let me go. I wanted a piece of the action. No good staying at home when it’s all happening, is there?’

  ‘No, that’s brave of yer,’ she flattered him.

  ‘What about you then?’

  ‘Beats being at home.’ She took a long drink. The beer was already making her feel mellow.

  ‘Oh I see,’ he laughed. ‘Like that is it? Tell me about yourself then, Molly. Where’d you grow up?’

  ‘Round Ashted, Vauxhall . . . in a palace!’ She gave her full-hearted chuckle.

  ‘Course you would round there! Like the Green where I come from – from another palace!’

  They had an understanding then. Molly suddenly realized she genuinely liked Billy. She gave him a limited outline of her childhood – two brothers, father shell-shocked, leaving school for a series of factory jobs. She mentioned the Buttons, the neighbours who’d been kind, and Em, her best friend. All in all, she thought, she’d made it sound not too bad really.

  ‘I’d’ve liked Em to join up with me really,’ she said. ‘But her mom’s not too good with her health and she’s sweet on this bloke called Norman. Shame really because he’s the most boring so-and-so you’ll ever meet – great big ears—’ She waggled her hands behind her ears, making Billy laugh. ‘He’s a copper and you can’t even have a laugh with him. Takes everything all serious, as if ’e’s about to have you arrested.’

  ‘She must see summat in him.’

  ‘Well – each to their own,’ she said, smiling winningly at him. ‘Now – you tell me about you.’

  Billy talked about his widowed mother and sister Jean who he was evidently fond of. ‘Jean’s a bit like your friend Em – sticks with our mom. I so
metimes wonder if any bloke’ll be able to win her away from Mom.’

  ‘Shame really,’ Molly said. ‘How old is she?’

  ‘Twenty-six next birthday.’

  ‘Shame,’ Molly said again. Half her mind now was taken up with thinking how to get Billy outside. Sitting here talking was all well, but she wanted to move things along. It was as if something was driving her that she had no control over.

  They had a second drink. While Billy was fetching it, Molly glanced along at Honor. Honor’s tall back was slightly slouched, one of her long arms bent up languidly to her face, holding a cigarette. She was talking to one of the young soldiers, who seemed deeply fascinated by her. Honor gave him a lovely smile. Molly was truly taken aback. Honor obviously had hidden depths that she hadn’t realized.

  Molly and Billy talked longer, amid the loud conversation and bursts of laughter, about home and the things they had in common. Molly didn’t swear in front of Billy. She realized that he was quite a straight, respectable lad. After a time she drank up and leaned closer to him again.

  ‘Fancy getting some fresh air for a bit?’

  ‘Yes, all right,’ Billy said easily.

  He led the way out of the thronging canteen and they were out in the bitter air. There was a half moon, smudged with cloud. Once more, Molly took his arm and they strolled slowly, not aiming for anywhere in particular, but ending up heading towards the far end where the catering company and food stores were.

  ‘Out on the town next week then,’ she said.