Shipyard Girls in Love

by Nancy Revell

  Vinnie looked at Sarah and smiled. ‘Ta, pet,’ he said, putting his hands round the glass of frothy beer and taking a big mouthful.

  ‘I’ll be back in a jiffy,’ Sarah said. ‘I just need to go to the little girls’ room and freshen up.’

  As she walked away she smoothed down her short skirt, knowing that Vinnie always liked to watch her and have a cheeky gawp at her backside. Today, though, if she had glanced behind she would have seen that Vinnie’s eyes were focused purely on his pint and that her bottom was the last thing on his mind.

  A few minutes later, after Sarah had spruced herself up, tidied her hair and redone her lipstick, she strutted out of the ladies. Halfway across the busy bar, though, she stopped in her tracks. The table Vinnie had been sitting at was empty. She looked around but he was nowhere to be seen. She looked back at the table and saw her brandy was still there, untouched. Next to it stood Vinnie’s pint glass. It had been drained.

  Sarah looked around again, in case she had missed him and he was waiting to be served at the bar, but there was no sign of him.

  She went to sit down at the table and took a sip of her brandy, thinking that perhaps Vinnie had gone to the gents, but after a few minutes and a few more sips, it was clear he wasn’t answering a call of nature.

  When there was still no sign of Vinnie fifteen minutes later, Sarah realised he’d gone.

  He’d just up and left.

  Sarah’s heart sank.

  This did not bode well.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As Gloria hurried back to the yard at five minutes to one, she knew she was cutting it fine. She and Jack had lost track of time today. Instead of staying within the confines of St Peter’s porch, they had enjoyed a stroll around the cemetery. It had been a risk worth taking, though, as there hadn’t been anyone else in the grounds of the church.

  As Gloria hurried towards the main gates with a few other stragglers who, like her, were pushing it to be in time for the one o’clock horn, she smiled at Alfie, the young timekeeper. Gloria breathed in the icy air and blew out a stream of vapour, but the cold didn’t bother her today. The weather never bothered her after she’d been with Jack. She always felt so happy whenever they managed to snatch some time together – happy that Jack was alive, that they had been reunited – and so very happy that the love they had shared before Jack had lost his memory was also very much alive.

  Gloria decided to make a quick detour to the women’s toilet just along from the main entrance when all of a sudden she felt a thump on her back as if someone had just tripped up behind her and pushed her. She felt her body fly forward with such force that she ended up landing on all fours. Feeling an instant sting on her hands and her knees, she knew she’d grazed them badly.

  As she was finding her feet again, Gloria felt a pair of hands lift her up by the back of her overalls.

  At first, she thought that the person who had rammed into her was simply helping her up, but when she felt herself being spun to the right and propelled forward again, she knew that wasn’t the case.

  Stumbling into a little side alley that ran along the side of the timekeeper’s cabin, she clattered into a line of bicycles.

  Finding her feet again, she managed to turn her body around slightly.

  As she did so she came face to face with her assailant.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw Vinnie’s distorted, snarling face just inches from her own.

  ‘She’s not mine, is she?!’

  Gloria felt Vinnie’s spittle hit her face, and she automatically went to wipe it off. As she did so, he smacked her hand away.

  ‘Am I right?’

  He paused before raising his voice.

  ‘Am I?’

  Vinnie towered over her, his shoulders hunched up and his hands by his sides, his fists in tight balls.

  Gloria forced herself to stand tall. Not to back down. She knew what was coming. Should have expected it really. Now it was time to face the music. And this time she wasn’t going to shy away. This time there was no baby in her belly to protect so she wasn’t going to be doing any kind of cowering.

  Gloria took a deep breath.

  ‘No, Vinnie, she’s not!’ Her words were spoken with defiance, yet she could feel her body starting to shake with fear.

  The moment had arrived. The moment she had kidded herself could be put off. The moment she had fooled herself could be dealt with in some way that would not lead to any kind of upset or harm.

  Somewhere inside of her she let go of the fear.

  And for the first time, she didn’t care any more.

  Let him do what the hell he wanted!

  But before he did, she was damned well going to have her say.

  ‘And you know what, Vinnie?’ Gloria spoke the words calmly, as if she was genuinely asking a question.

  Vinnie looked at her. A slight expression of confusion showed on his red, twisted face.

  ‘There is not one day – no, not one hour, not one minute of every day – that I don’t thank God that that gorgeous, perfect little girl is not yours.’

  Gloria just managed to get the last word out before she felt a jarring thud across the bridge of her nose and everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty

  The afternoon shift had just started and Helen was eager to go and see her father over at Crown’s. She needed some advice on an area of production that she didn’t feel all that confident about, but it was also an excuse to go and see him and have a cup of tea and a chat. Nowadays, that was about the only chance she got to see her father, never mind spend any time with him. Every evening her mother dominated him – from the moment he got in from work to the minute they went to bed.

  Helen thought of her mum, and as much as she hated her at times, she had to hand it to her – she was a clever woman. She had ditched all the dinner parties for now and was playing the perfect home-loving housewife. Helen’s jaw had nearly hit the ground the other night when she came in to find them tucking into one of Mrs Westley’s shepherd’s pies, which they were actually eating at the kitchen table!

  As Helen approached the wide metal gates of Thompson’s, partially shut to keep out the blustering winds that seemed to be unrelenting of late, she stopped and opened her handbag to fish out her packet of Pall Malls. As she did so, something caught the corner of her eye – some kind of movement in the bike alley. She squinted. The overhang from the timekeeper’s cabin and the adjoining stockroom made it difficult to see.

  She stepped forward and that was when she saw the back of a man.

  He looked quite tall – and was that his hand raised in the air?

  Helen stepped forward.

  What was he doing?

  Helen moved towards the darkness and that’s when she heard the man speak. Or rather, shout – his voice was so loud she could hear it over the din and clatter of the yard.

  ‘Yer sneaking, lying, conniving bitch!’

  She heard the man’s words clearly and they shocked her. What the hell was going on? Who was this man? And who was he speaking to?

  ‘Yer slag!’

  Helen took another tentative step forward. The vitriol in the man’s voice frightened her.

  ‘Trying to fob the bastard off as mine!’

  She walked further into the darkness. Something – curiosity perhaps? An instinct that something was wrong, very wrong – propelled her forward.

  And that’s when she saw the whole sickening scene.

  A man was crouching like an animal over his prey.

  Each sentence he spoke was punctuated with his fist.

  ‘Make a laughing stock of me, will ya?’

  Punch.

  ‘Thought you’d get away with it, did ya?’

  Punch.

  Helen felt sheer panic. Whoever was on the floor was going to get beaten to death. The man was clearly deranged.

  ‘Stop!’ she screamed out, but the man was like a runaway train. Unstoppable.

  Helen looked
about her. Frantic. There! She spotted a shovel that was propped up against the wall. Without thinking, she grabbed it.

  Holding it as though it was a rounder’s bat, she strode towards the man as his fist once again thudded down into the overall-clad figure curled up on the ground.

  She heaved the shovel back.

  And then with all her might she swung it forward.

  The metal pan of the shovel wacked the madman on the side of the head and for a moment it stopped all movement. Then the man staggered a few steps to the left and smacked into the side of the prefab cabin.

  Helen held her breath as she watched the man crumple to the ground. Flinging the shovel aside, she ran to the heap on the floor.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Helen’s voice was shaking.

  She heard a faint murmuring.

  Helen knelt down. As she did so she gasped in horror. It was a woman. Her face was bloodied. It took a moment for Helen to recognise who it was.

  ‘Oh my God, Gloria!’ Helen gasped in shock. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  Gloria blinked and moved her head forward to nod.

  Helen heard a noise behind her, and swung her head around, expecting more violence, but thankfully saw only Alfie’s worried face hurrying towards her.

  ‘Call for help, Alfie!’ she shouted. ‘Ambulance – and police.’ She looked over at Vinnie.

  The bastard needed locking up and the key thrown away!

  Five minutes later Vinnie was being dragged out of the cycle alley by two burly drillers. His head was bobbing on his chest and his feet were trailing the ground. He was semi-conscious and letting loose the odd profanity. The two workers, who must have been nearly six feet tall, chucked him down onto a stack of wooden pallets and stood guard over him with their arms folded. Gloria was still with Helen, but she was now sitting up and being seen to by the two St John Ambulance first-aiders.

  ‘Honestly,’ Gloria said, ‘I’m fine. Really I am.’

  Helen was leaning against one of the parked-up bicycles, looking down at Gloria as she was checked out by the two medics. Helen ignored Gloria’s reassurances and instead directed her question to the two men who were tending to her.

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘I can’t see any serious damage,’ the younger of the two said, looking up at Helen, ‘but I’d feel happier if she was checked out up at the hospital, just in case.’

  The older one, who had been inspecting Gloria’s hands and arms, smiled reassuringly at Gloria before looking at Helen and saying, ‘I think this brave lady has had a lucky escape.’ He looked back at Gloria. ‘Am I right in saying that you managed to protect your head with your arms?’

  Gloria nodded. She couldn’t really remember much, but she must have automatically curled up into a ball when she’d hit the ground. Vinnie’s punches had not, thankfully, been able to hit their target, but only the shield of her arms.

  ‘Well, I agree with you.’ Helen looked at the younger medic. ‘I think Gloria here should at least be given the once-over up at the hospital. Just to be on the safe side.’

  As the two men got their patient to her feet, they slowly helped her walk out of the alleyway and into the back of the St John ambulance.

  ‘Gloria!’

  The distraught, high-pitched voice belonged to Dorothy, who was sprinting across the yard. The rest of the women welders were just behind her. They caught a glimpse of Gloria being helped into the back of the ambulance and saw her bloodied face. Dorothy pushed through a small gaggle of workers who had drifted to the scene to see what was happening.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Dorothy tried to hold back her shock and horror as she climbed into the back of the van despite objections from the two first-aiders.

  ‘And there was me hoping for a bit peace and quiet,’ Gloria said. She had just put her head down on the soft pillow on the stretcher, and had her arms resting across her stomach.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Dorothy said, amazed at her mate’s capacity for backchat at such a horrendous time. She perched on the edge of a large white wooden box. The van was so small, she was practically hunched over Gloria. As she spoke she inspected her friend’s face. She could see a good deal of blood, but from a cursory examination she didn’t look like she’d had her nose broken, and there were no immediate swellings on her face.

  ‘Come on, out of there,’ the older medic ordered Dorothy.

  Dorothy looked at Gloria, whose face suddenly became deathly serious.

  ‘Dorothy …’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘Don’t tell Jack. Promise?’

  Dorothy looked at her battered workmate and wondered how she could think of such a thing at a time like this.

  ‘No worries,’ she said. ‘I’ll keep mum,’ she reassured Gloria, before reluctantly leaving the van.

  As she clambered out, she was met by five worried-looking faces.

  ‘She all right?’ Martha asked.

  Dorothy nodded. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Can I go with her?’ Rosie asked the older St John officer. ‘I’m her immediate boss. I’d like to make sure she’s all right.’ The man nodded, and Rosie ducked into the van. But a few seconds later Rosie got back out of the ambulance and, peering over the women’s heads, called out.

  ‘Helen!’

  No one had noticed that Helen had been standing by the side, smoking a cigarette. If anyone had looked closely they would have seen that her hands were shaking.

  Helen raised her head to look at Rosie.

  ‘Gloria wants a quick word,’ Rosie explained.

  As the words registered with the women welders, they glanced at each other. A question on each of their faces.

  Helen chucked her cigarette and walked through the small crowd that parted to let her through. They watched as Rosie moved to the side to allow Helen to climb into the back of the ambulance.

  ‘How’re you feeling?’ Helen asked. Her voice was soft and full of real concern. She had never seen such violence up close. Never seen any kind of violence in her life, really. She’d seen a few scraps between some of the workers in the yard, but that was all they were really, scuffles – a load of flailing arms, wildly thrown punches, most of which missed their target, and a lot of pushing and pulling. What she had just witnessed down the bike alley was real brutality. And it had shocked her to the core.

  ‘I’m all right. Honestly,’ Gloria reassured Helen, whose face was as white as a sheet. ‘I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for helping me. For doing what you did.’

  ‘God!’ Helen blew out air. ‘I’m just so glad I passed when I did.’

  Neither of them said anything, but they were both thinking that if she hadn’t, Gloria would certainly not be capable of having a conversation like she was now. Vinnie had been totally out of control – more than he had ever been before. Gloria shuddered at the thought of what might have become of her had Helen not intervened.

  ‘Right,’ said Helen. She could feel herself becoming emotional and would have been mortified if anyone had seen her looking like she might be even remotely on the verge of tears. ‘Best get you off to the Royal. Take as much time off as you need,’ she said, climbing out of the ambulance van as daintily as she could, considering she was wearing heeled shoes and a skirt that did not have much leeway in it.

  As Helen exited, Rosie jumped back in and the younger medic slammed the doors shut, hurried around the other side and got into the passenger seat. Everyone watched in silence as the ambulance drove away.

  ‘Right, everyone back to work!’ Helen forced out a voice that sounded commanding.

  When her gaze fell on Vinnie, still under guard, his hand on the side of his head, a pained expression on his face, she shouted across to the two drillers.

  ‘And I want him out of this yard. Now!’

  The women stared as Vinnie was hauled back on to his feet and dragged out through the main gates before being chucked out like a piece of rubbish. As if timed to perfection, they then heard the sound of a police siren approaching fro
m down the embankment.

  ‘Come on, you lot!’ It was Jimmy, the head riveter. The women looked around. ‘We need a hand with this frigate that’s just been hauled in. Don’t think just ’cos the boss’s gone you can waste the rest of the afternoon yapping to each other.’

  His words might have been harsh, but they were spoken with compassion.

  Halfway through the afternoon shift, Rosie was back.

  ‘I’ll take this lot off your hands now, Jimmy,’ Rosie smiled. She had caught them on their tea break and they were all standing, looking unusually sombre, around the riveters’ fire.

  Jimmy laughed. ‘They’ve been as good as gold! Send them my way whenever yer want. Especially Martha. She’s been doing a bit of riveting for us this afternoon.’

  Rosie opened her mouth to speak.

  ‘But dinnit worry,’ Jimmy said, ‘I’m not gonna steal her from you. Unless, of course,’ he looked across at Martha, who was picking up her haversack and gas mask, ‘she wants to jump ship?’

  ‘Nice try!’ Martha piped up.

  The banter over, they all followed Rosie back across to the dry dock to continue their work on SS Brutus. The noise of the shipyard was at its normal deafening level, so they were only able to catch a little of what Rosie told them, but it was enough to know that Gloria was going to be all right, although it sounded as if the doctors were going to keep her in overnight as a ‘precautionary measure’.

  At the end of the shift, when they could all speak without having to shout, Dorothy asked the question they were all dying to know the answer to.

  ‘What was all that with Helen?’

  ‘Yeh, why did she gan in the back of the ambulance?’ Angie added.

  ‘Well,’ Rosie said, ‘it would seem that Helen actually saved the day. Or should I say, saved Gloria.’

  ‘How?’ Martha asked, intrigued.

  ‘From what Gloria told me, she clobbered Vinnie round the head with a shovel.’

  The women all looked gobsmacked.

  ‘And then,’ Rosie continued, ‘she got Alfie to get the first-aiders and call the police.’

  ‘Blimey!’ Angie said. ‘Hey, Martha, looks like you’ve got competition in the “heroine” department.’