by Nancy Revell
Standing up to her full height to arch her back, Martha spotted her two friends and pushed up her helmet. She towered above the rest of the women as she waved, a big grin appearing on her face, showing off her distinctive gapped teeth. Gloria’s heart went out to their gentle giant.
Even if Martha was able to deal with the truth about her biological mother, she knew for a fact she would not be able to withstand the scrutiny and unwanted attention should it become public knowledge.
‘Yeah!’ Dorothy’s voice was loud and shrill against the surrounding din. She was smiling over at them, waving at them with one arm and giving Angie a whack with the other to alert her of their arrival.
Did Dorothy know about her mother’s bigamy?
And did Angie know that her mam was playing away from home?
‘Where ya been?’ Angie asked as Gloria and Hannah reached them.
‘What Angie meant to say, Glor,’ Dorothy said, ‘was, “My, you’ve been a while, Gloria, is everything all right?”’
Gloria smiled at the comedy duo and rolled her eyes in the direction of Polly, Hannah and Martha, who chuckled.
‘Can I get a cup of tea down me first, please, before the Spanish Inquisition?’ she said.
And with that, they all trooped over to the very tip of the ship’s stern, which was jutting out across the river. The noise in the yard wasn’t as loud there, but still enough to stop any real conversation, and so they all sat in a row, pouring the tea from their flasks into their tin cups and looking out at the seemingly infinite North Sea.
And as they all sat sipping their hot tea and exchanging the odd word, Gloria thought about Jack and their rushed farewell, and she knew that her feeling of heartbreak would probably stay with her until they were reunited again – whenever that would be.
But she also knew that she was not alone. Far from it. Next to her she had her makeshift family. Her family of friends. They were all here, apart from Rosie, who hopefully would now be on her way to see her lover.
How on earth was she going to chat to them all about what had just happened at Miriam’s? About what she had found out?
What should she tell them?
And what should she keep a secret?
At this very moment in time, she had no idea.
Epilogue
‘Have a lovely time!’ Kate threw her arms around Rosie as she said her goodbyes on the pavement outside the Maison Nouvelle.
Rosie hugged her back.
‘So you’ll stop beating yourself up now and get on with your next “haute couture” masterpiece?’
Kate nodded. She had been living under a dark and heavy cloud of self-recrimination since the day Rosie had missed seeing Peter off at the train station. Kate had apologised profusely, but hadn’t really offered up much of an explanation as to why she had forgotten to give Rosie the letter.
‘And Rosie!’ Kate shouted out to her friend as she started to walk away. ‘You look gorgeous!’
Underneath her grey mackintosh, Rosie was wearing the red dress Kate had made for her Christmas present. It was the first time Kate had seen Rosie wearing it and not only did it fit her perfectly, it really did look stunning.
‘Well, if I do, it’s thanks to you!’ Rosie said, before turning and hurrying down Holmeside, giving one final wave as she turned the corner into Waterloo Place. From there it was a two-minute walk to the railway station.
What a difference six weeks can make, Rosie mused as she crossed the road to Athenaeum Street. She had fallen in love for the first time, soared higher than she had ever thought possible, and then gone into a terrible tailspin – but she hadn’t crash-landed. And now, although she had no idea what the future held, at least she was going to be able to say a proper goodbye to the man she loved.
She was actually glad that she hadn’t made it to the station that day to see Peter off; if she had she probably wouldn’t be going to see him now. She still had no idea why Kate had ‘forgotten’ to give her the letter. Whatever the reason, though, Rosie knew without a doubt it must have been something serious. Perhaps Kate would be able to talk to her about it when she got back.
After walking into the main entrance of the railway station and picking up her travel warrant, Rosie showed her pass to the old guard who had kindly let her through the barriers last week in her failed attempt to see Peter. She smiled at him and he smiled back, although it was clear he did not recognise her.
‘Train to King’s Cross from platform one, my dear. Due in any minute.’
As predicted the train arrived within minutes and Rosie climbed aboard and to her surprise, found an empty carriage.
After putting her bag on the rack above, she settled herself into the high-backed cushioned seat next to the window. The train on the platform opposite was just preparing to leave. Rosie watched through a growing cloud of smoke as a couple clung to each other for one last time. The girl was young, as was the lad, who was dressed in a freshly pressed soldier’s uniform, clutching a maroon-coloured beret.
Just as the whistle sounded out the other train’s departure, a few last-minute travellers jumped on-board. She thought one of them looked the spit of Jack, but immediately dismissed the thought. Gloria would have mentioned if Jack was going away.
Turning her attention back to the people now getting onto her own train, Rosie watched as travellers passed her compartment door and hoped she might be lucky and keep the carriage to herself. She had brought a small paperback book with her in her handbag, not that she wanted to read it but it would be a way for her to avoid any kind of interaction with the other passengers. She had a long trip ahead of her and she wanted to spend the time simply watching the changing landscapes as she made her maiden journey down south.
Rosie let out a long breath and nestled back into her seat. Hearing the elongated screech of the whistle sound out, followed by the clashing of the heavy wooden doors, she felt a thrill of anticipation. She knew the journey she was about to take was not one that a ‘normal’ person leading a ‘normal’ life would be embarking upon – yet, all the same, she felt excited. Happy.
She realised the life she led – and had led for many years now – was not ‘normal’, yet it was also not a bad life. She loved the people who were a part of it – her women welders, Kate, Lily and George, who were as loving and as caring as any parent, possibly more so, and of course, Charlotte.
She loved Thompson’s and, much as she had fought it, the bordello as well. It had been Lily’s she had instinctively run to that night when she was distraught – where she had sought solace. It wasn’t most people’s idea of a ‘home’, but it was her home.
As the train lurched forward and Rosie began her journey, she finally understood what she should have known a long time ago – the life she was destined to lead was not to be a ‘normal’ one.
But, she thought, as the train picked up speed and the thick smog of steam dissipated to give her a clear view from the window of her carriage – was that really so bad?
Dear Reader,
I hope you have thoroughly enjoyed this latest instalment of the Shipyard Girls series and will continue to accompany Rosie, Gloria, Polly, and the rest of the women as they battle through their personal ups and downs, whilst enduring all the hardships, dangers, and worries about loved ones that went hand in hand with life on the Home Front during the Second World War.
Faith is what carries the shipyard women through their struggles – a belief that despite such crippling uncertainty as to what the future might hold, all will be well.
And so, I would like to end this book with the wish that you also have faith that whatever is happening in your life will turn out well too – and that faith is accompanied by love, hope and charity.
Until next time.
With love,
Historical Notes
Mrs Florence Collard, who worked as a welder at Bartram & Sons’ yard, was one of the seven hundred women who worked in the Sunderland shipyards during World War II.
; This photograph was published alongside an article in the Sunderland Echo on Tuesday 10 November 1942 under the heading ‘Women in Sunderland Shipyards’.
Here is a short extract from that article which, in my opinion, shows just how inspirational, brave and resilient these women were.
‘… Mrs Florence Collard is working as a welder at Bartram & Sons’ shipyard. She is the first woman to be admitted to membership (temporary) of the Boilermakers’ Society in the Wear district. Mrs Collard, whose husband is in the Forces, is nothing if not plucky. A Sunderland woman she was bombed out at Plymouth and since returning to Sunderland she has been bombed out here in a recent raid. She was trapped in the kitchen in her home, but rescued. Though suffering from shock she went to her work at the shipyard for the afternoon shift maintaining that “work comes first”.’
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Epub ISBN: 9781473553620
Version 1.0
Published by Arrow Books 2018
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Copyright © Nancy Revell 2018
Cover photograph: Colin Thomas
Background © Alamy
Nancy Revell has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain by Arrow Books in 2018
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781787460218
