The Bomb Girls

by Daisy Styles

  ‘You must be bloody joking!’ Emily hissed as she tried to suppress the shock in her voice. ‘You’re so small and gentle, Alice! You should be settling down, marrying Robin, living in London, teaching young ladies in a posh private school.’

  ‘I might be small but I’m tough, Em. You should know that better than anybody.’

  Emily smiled as she recalled the numerous fights they’d had as little girls, hard fights in the back streets, where little Alice with the face of an angel could pack a punch, not to mention a kick and a smack.

  ‘You were always a tough little sod,’ Emily conceded.

  Alice continued on a more serious note.

  ‘As I said, my training is mostly about decoding, translating and intercepting. At my interview the War Office asked about my experience with explosives but nobody’s mentioned it since.’

  Emily’s blue eyes grew huge with alarm.

  ‘Jesus!’ she cried, then quickly muffled her mouth with a hand. ‘That’s a relief.’ She paused then asked nervously, ‘Do they train you how to look after yourself … you know, if you’re threatened by the enemy?’ Emily shuddered with fear as she said the word.

  ‘Actually we are trained to shoot and kill with an A.45 pistol,’ Alice replied calmly.

  By this time Emily was beginning to feel a bit faint.

  ‘Don’t suppose we can open the window?’ she asked.

  ‘Only if we sit in the dark.’

  ‘Let’s do that; let’s get into bed.’

  Quickly removing their clothes, they slipped into their winceyette nighties and cuddled up to each other in the dark, under the lumpy satin eiderdown that slid from one side of the bed to the other before finally sliding onto the floor.

  ‘Oh, Al, when will I see you again?’ Emily whispered.

  ‘As soon as I get leave I’ll come home and see Mum, who, by the way, you mustn’t mention a word of this to.’

  ‘As if I would!’ Emily exclaimed indignantly. ‘The shock would kill her.’

  ‘Poor thing, she’s not the faintest idea what I’m doing,’ Alice said sadly.

  ‘I think you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known,’ Emily blurted out. ‘You’ve answered a call from the War Office and you’ve taken on training that sounds terrifying to me. Aren’t you ever scared?’

  ‘I get worried when I can’t break an encrypted message that, in a real-life situation, might cost someone’s life,’ Alice admitted. ‘After our intense training my French is good but I worry about liaising with a French person who only speaks in local dialect; that would be very tricky.’

  ‘Sounds like me trying to make conversation with Rodders!’ Emily joked.

  Alice gave her friend a cheeky dig in the ribs.

  ‘Buck up, kid, this is beginning to sound like a soppy war film,’ she giggled.

  Emily sighed as she snuggled up to Alice.

  ‘Sounds more heroic than soppy,’ she whispered.

  Alice deftly changed the subject.

  ‘Rodney said he was planning to visit you in Pendle.’

  ‘He’s so posh!’ Emily laughed. ‘Hopefully, he’ll forget all about me.’

  ‘Don’t you believe it!’ Alice replied. ‘He’ll come knocking on your door sooner than you think!’

  As the first birds began to sing in the dawn light, the girls, holding tightly to one another, finally fell asleep.

  On their last day together Emily and Alice took a flask of tea and some corned-beef sandwiches to Regent’s Park, where they sat in the sunshine trying to ignore the bleak backdrop of bombed mansions and shattered church spires.

  ‘Tell me about the girls,’ Alice said eagerly.

  ‘Lillian’s seriously in love, and Elsie’s still devouring chip butties like they’re going out of fashion. As for Agnes, nothing’s changed; no news of the husband and Esther’s still miles away.’

  ‘And you, Em?’ Alice asked as she poured tea from the flask.

  Emily lay back on the warm grass and with her arms behind her head, gazing dreamily at the large cumulus clouds drifting by, she answered pensively,

  ‘Me … ? Well, you were right: I totally screwed up over Bill. I still miss him with all my heart.’

  Tears welled up in Emily’s eyes and Alice reached out to squeeze her hand.

  ‘Don’t give up on him, Em. It might just take time.’

  Emily smiled bravely before adding, ‘On a more positive note, I enjoy doing my bit for the war effort, I love my girl friends and our digs, although we miss you and nothing’s been the same since you left.’

  As they packed up their meagre picnic, Alice said, ‘Don’t give the girls any reason to worry about me. Promise, Em?’

  Emily stared into Alice’s lovely face framed in a halo of shining silver-blonde hair.

  ‘I promise,’ she replied as tears welled up in her eyes again.

  It was an agony saying goodbye to Alice the next morning but fortunately, with early trains to catch, they parted swiftly, Alice for Paddington, Emily for Euston. Their final hug reduced them both to sobs.

  ‘Go, please, go,’ Alice cried.

  Giving her friend one last kiss, Emily turned and walked away, and when she looked back Alice had gone.

  CHAPTER 18

  Thingummybob

  Emily got off the train at Clitheroe station, where she stood clutching her suitcase and wondering what to do. She didn’t know if she should return to the Phoenix because she didn’t know whether she was welcome; the only way of knowing was to see if there was a letter for her at home from Mr Featherstone, but she couldn’t just stroll into her mum’s house holding a suitcase! Mrs Yates would immediately suspect something and question her until she got to the truth.

  Stuffing the suitcase behind a neighbour’s hedge, Emily went round the back of her house and let herself in.

  ‘Hello, lovie,’ her mum said warmly as she proceeded to do exactly what she did every time anybody walked through her door: she put the kettle on.

  Emily sat and drank tea with her mum, talking about work and her friends, asking if any news of Bill had been gleaned from his mother, who lived just round the corner. All the time she was sitting in the back kitchen, she was itching to say, ‘Have any letters arrived for me?’ but she avoided the question, hoping her mum would volunteer some information.

  Just as Emily was leaving, spurred on by the fact that her suitcase had been sitting under next-door’s hedge for over an hour, her mum said, ‘Ooh, I nearly forgot, there’s a letter for you.’

  Emily took the letter, kissed her mum, then waited for her to shut the front door before she yanked her case from its hiding place and hurried around the corner to open the envelope. She let out a long sigh of relief as she read the letter; she was recalled to work on condition there would be no more insubordination.

  ‘I’ll try to keep my trap shut, Mr Featherstone,’ Emily said aloud, smiling as she folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket. ‘I really will try!’

  When Emily returned to the digs Lillian was fast asleep on the sofa after a long night shift. She was struck by the shocking change in Lillian, who, in Emily’s short absence, had become even thinner and – wearing no make-up – looked years older.

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ she asked Elsie, who was anxiously tucking a blanket around Lillian.

  ‘She keeps being sick,’ she replied, both relieved and delighted to see Emily back. ‘Agnes is at the Phoenix trying to get something from the chemist to make her feel better.’

  ‘She looks terrible!’ Emily said.

  Lillian stirred when she heard Emily’s voice.

  ‘Hiya, lovie. Nice to have you back,’ she said weakly.

  Emily quickly put down her case and sat on the sofa beside Lillian.

  ‘How long have you been feeling poorly, sweetheart?’ she asked as she stroked one of Lillian’s limp hands.

  ‘I’ve not felt myself for a while but this sickness is new,’ Lillian replied.

  Emily paused to look int
o her friend’s tired brown eyes.

  ‘Is there something you’re not telling us?’

  Lillian burst into floods of tears.

  ‘I might be pregnant!’ she sobbed.

  Elsie slapped a hand over her mouth to smother a gasp of shock whilst Emily gathered weeping Lillian into her arms.

  ‘Why didn’t you say something sooner?’ she asked as she patted Lillian’s back.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking straight,’ Lillian replied. ‘What with all the trouble we had with Malc then the shock of Gary disappearing overnight … Honestly, Em, I never even thought about it till I started feeling sick.’

  ‘Did you not take precautions?’ Emily asked.

  ‘Obviously not,’ Lillian replied bluntly.

  ‘Well, why not, for heaven’s sake?’

  ‘Because I didn’t care!’ She looked at her friends’ anxious faces. ‘I’m not ashamed,’ she insisted. ‘Gary and I plan to spend the rest of our lives together, raise a big family in Ohio …’ Her voice broke as she talked about their plans. ‘I was having such a wonderful time with Gary I hardly noticed I’d missed a period, but then when my breasts started to feel tender I thought I might be pregnant.’

  As fresh tears rolled down Lillian’s thin cheeks, Elsie sat on the floor at her feet.

  ‘Do you want the baby?’ she gently asked.

  Lillian vigorously nodded her head.

  ‘It’s Gary’s baby, and it’s all I’ve got of him. Of course I want it!’

  Elsie blinked back tears as she said, ‘I would feel exactly the same, pet. I would want my Tommy’s bairn whether he was here or not.’

  Lillian took the hankie that Elsie offered and wiped away her tears.

  ‘But who’ll look after us,’ she murmured, ‘me and the baby?’

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Emily said, ‘We’ll look after you.’

  ‘Emily’s right, pet,’ Elsie agreed. ‘We’re like family; we’ll all take care of you.’

  Lillian looked incredulously from one friend to the other.

  ‘But where will I go? Where will I have it?’ she asked.

  ‘You can have your baby in the Phoenix hospital, then you can move in with my mum until Gary comes to find you,’ Emily said with great assurance.

  A slow smile illuminated Lillian’s face. ‘Really?’

  ‘Other mothers give birth in the Phoenix, so why not you?’ Elsie exclaimed.

  ‘I won’t be married …’ Lillian retorted. ‘The baby will be a bastard.’

  Emily and Elsie exchanged a quick look. Even though the war was changing many long-held views, the stigma of having a child out of wedlock was hard to bear for both mother and baby; but now certainly wasn’t the time to talk about it.

  ‘Gary could turn up tomorrow and you could be married in a month,’ Emily said with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel.

  Elsie smiled as she rose to her feet.

  ‘Everybody loves a bairn,’ she said. ‘Now come on, let’s have a brew. We certainly need it.’

  As she headed towards the small kitchen, the front door was flung wide open and Agnes stood before them, white-faced and trembling.

  ‘Any luck with the –’ Elsie never finished the sentence, but stared at Agnes as she swayed in the gaping doorway.

  ‘You won’t believe it. My Stan’s alive!’ she gasped.

  Elsie and Emily dashed to grab her before she fell in a faint on the floor.

  ‘Sit down,’ said Emily as she steered her to the sofa where Lillian was now sitting bolt upright. ‘Get her some water, Elsie.’

  In shock, Agnes stared in total disbelief at her friends.

  ‘I just heard. Apparently he managed to escape from the concentration camp … Oh, God! He’s alive!’ She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘After three years of hoping and praying, my husband is alive.’

  ‘Oh, Agnes!’ cried Elsie as she proffered a glass of water to her friend. ‘That’s wonderful news. Who did you hear it from?’

  Agnes took a sip of water, though her hands were shaking so much the water sloshed all over the sofa.

  ‘Mr Featherstone. He saw me on my way to the chemist and called me into his office; he said he’d received a letter from the War Office asking if I was working at the Phoenix …’

  Her voice trailed away as if she simply couldn’t take the news in.

  ‘They asked him to inform me that my husband is alive!’ Her voice dropped as she added, ‘Stan’s in a bad way, though …’

  ‘But he’s alive!’ said Elsie joyously, squeezing her friend’s hand.

  ‘Where is he now?’ Emily asked. ‘Will you be able to see him soon?’

  Tears welled up in Agnes’s dark eyes.

  ‘He’s in a specialist POW convalescent unit in Cambridge,’ she replied in a stunned voice. ‘I’ve got a pass to visit him. I’m leaving tomorrow; it’s all sorted!’

  Emily winked at her friend.

  ‘You’re going nowhere, Agnes, till we’ve celebrated this glorious day with a proper dinner!’ she announced.

  That night the four of them sat down to one of Emily’s creations: pumpkin soup, corned-beef fritters with rosemary and lemon, Emily’s speciality chips, and pear crumble. As she laid the table, Agnes, Lillian and Elsie gasped in disbelief.

  ‘Where did it all come from?’ Lillian asked.

  Emily smiled proudly.

  ‘Pumpkin – locally grown; pears – off a tree overhanging the Phoenix car park; corned beef – a ration tin; herbs – free on the moors; the rest – me!’

  It was a joy to see Lillian tuck in, and the colour returned to her thin wasted cheeks as she enjoyed Emily’s delicious food. Agnes didn’t eat that much but Elsie made up for her lack of appetite and ate for two.

  Raising her glass of tap water, Agnes said with a choke in her voice, ‘Here’s to tomorrow – wish me luck!’

  Before Agnes left at dawn the next morning Emily managed to have a word alone with her.

  ‘Lillian’s pregnant,’ she whispered.

  ‘Why didn’t I see that?’ Agnes scolded herself. ‘She’s not been well and she’s not been eating – apart from last night, and that was a sight to see,’ she added fondly.

  ‘Best not to appear too anxious,’ Emily said. ‘She’s edgy enough as it is. If only Gary would make contact,’ she added wistfully

  ‘A letter from him would make all the difference,’ Agnes said with a sad smile. ‘I should know – that’s what I’ve been praying for, for three years.’

  It was strange not having Agnes in the digs and even stranger not having her as their section manager. Working under their temporary supervisor, the girls realized how much they’d come to depend on Agnes’s maturity and experience. Without either Agnes or Alice they felt incomplete and lonely.

  As war news varied, it brought a conflicting mixture of elation, fear, depression and utter weariness. When the Bomb Girls heard that the Germans were failing against the force of the Russian army their hearts rose, then they fell again as disquieting news leaked out of Jews fleeing Germany and seeking asylum elsewhere in Europe. Nobody could fail to be elated when news came through of Montgomery’s troops in North Africa forcing Rommel and his German army into a retreat.

  ‘We’ll soon have them German buggers running for their miserable lives,’ said Lillian with undisguised relish as they worked through their shift.

  ‘Oh, Lillian,’ said Emily. ‘Remember that even Germans have mothers, wives and children.’

  Without taking her eyes off the rolling conveyor belt, Lillian answered with brutal sarcasm, ‘Sometimes I quite forget they’re not all monsters.’

  Elsie kept silent; any talk of North Africa sent her spiralling into a silent depression. Only two letters had made their way through to her from Tommy, even though he said in one of the letters that he wrote to her at least twice a week, action permitting. He also said that he’d only received half a dozen of her letters, and she wrote to him nearly every day so clearly a lot of mail went mi
ssing in North Africa.

  She blinked hard as she bit back tears. How she yearned for Tommy. Having never loved or known a man in her life, Elsie couldn’t believe the well of emotion he’d untapped in her. He was the shyest, tenderest lover; as Lillian said, ‘The pair of you are so innocent you’d spoil another couple!’

  It wasn’t just what went on in bed, though Elsie was surprised at how much she liked that; it was the sweetness of Tommy, his utter conviction that he would come home to her and they would spend the rest of their lives in Pendle, where they would live happily ever after. She knew from the Pathé News reels that her husband was understating the suffering and despair out there in Africa, and that was the way Tommy was; he put a brave face on everything and always tried to see the funny side of life. She tried to follow his selfless example, but it grew increasingly hard to keep cheerful, keep hope burning, keep praying.

  Lillian’s rallying cry when spirits were low was, ‘Keep calm and carry on, Bomb Girls!’

  ‘There seems no end in sight,’ Emily said as they sat exhausted, halfway through their night shift, drinking pints of tea in the canteen that now seemed like their second home.

  ‘You could see the fires and explosions as Liverpool burned last night,’ Elsie said sadly.

  ‘Poor sods,’ sighed Lillian, who, as a result of her pregnancy, had stopped smoking but taken to sucking mints instead.

  ‘It’s not just Liverpool that’s getting it,’ Emily added. ‘It’s all the major cities outside of London – Coventry, Birmingham, Cardiff, Swansea, Sheffield. What will be left of our lovely country?’

  Lillian popped another mint into her mouth as she retorted angrily, ‘If the bloody Luftwaffe have their way they’ll wipe us off the map!’

  ‘We could do with a bit of cheering up,’ Elsie said bleakly.

  ‘That’d take a couple of miracles!’ Emily replied grimly.

  After nearly eighteen months of grinding work, morale in the Phoenix workshops was unquestionably at its lowest ebb; music still blared out as usual from the factory loudspeaker, but most of the workers hadn’t the heart or the energy to sing along as they had done in the early days of the war. And the government updates designed to boost morale didn’t have quite the same effect as they used to have.