‘Keep your coupons, Bess, and cross the road,’ Miss Armstrong said. ‘We’ll go to the restaurant in Denton and Christie. The manager owes me a favour.’
Half a dozen shop assistants with smart haircuts, dressed in black skirts and crisp white blouses, stood open-mouthed when Miss Armstrong, in her most authoritative voice, requested that the senior sales person escort her to the office of Mr Markham, the department store’s manager.
Bess had never seen Miss Armstrong act in such an assertive way and realised that she too had her mouth open. By the time the shop assistants had finished discussing the forceful lady with the smoke-stained face and dirty clothes, Miss Armstrong had returned, looking rather pleased with herself.
‘This is Miss Simpson. The person Mr Markham replaced me with when I was… made redundant,’ Miss Armstrong said. ‘And it is Miss Simpson who is going to show us where we can have a wash and smarten ourselves up.’
In the staff cloakroom there was scented soap, soft towels and fine talcum powder. Bess couldn’t remember the last time she’d used talc but it was before rationing, and she sprinkled it on liberally. Molly and Miss Armstrong were taken to the ladies’ fashion department and invited to take whatever they needed. Bess declined the offer, because she had a suitcase full of clothes that only needed ironing.
‘Oh, Bess,’ Molly called, running from the Mother and Child department, followed by several young shop assistants loaded down with Carnation milk, bottles and bibs, nappies, vests, bonnets, booties, and dresses. ‘Look what they’ve given me for Elizabeth. I told them I couldn’t pay for it, that we’d lost our ration books and clothes coupons when the house was bombed, but--’
Miss Simpson was suddenly at Molly’s side. ‘Miss Armstrong has paid for everything in that basket and a lot more besides with hours of dedicated work when she was an employee of Denton and Christie,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ Molly whispered.
‘You’re welcome. Now, if you will excuse me.’ Miss Simpson turned and clapped her hands, twice. ‘Back to your posts, girls, there’s work to be done.’
After a breakfast of scrambled egg on toast, and a couple of pots of tea, Bess telephoned her friend Natalie Goldman. After explaining what had happened the night before, Natalie insisted that they all stay with her and Anton in north London.
The small party of homeless women carrying an assortment of bags and boxes arrived at Natalie Goldman’s front door in the early afternoon. Natalie welcomed them and, after taking their coats, led them through to the sitting room where a fire roared in the hearth and where Nanny Friel was laying the table for lunch. When she had finished, Nanny strode across the room and mimed to Molly that she, Molly, should take her bags upstairs while Nanny - she pointed to herself - would take Elizabeth to the kitchen and give her a feed. Molly knew from Bess that she could trust the Goldman’s Nanny and handed over her hungry little pink bundle. Nanny’s broad Germanic face, usually set in a frown around strangers, broke into a smile that would have won a gurning competition and she left the room singing “Schönes Baby, reizendes kleines Mädchen”.
While Nanny gave Elizabeth her bottle, Natalie took Miss Armstrong and Molly upstairs to show them where they would be sleeping. Bess said she’d make do with a blanket on the settee. She was so tired she would sleep anywhere. By the time they returned, Bess and Nanny Friel were watching over Elizabeth, who was sleeping contentedly on the settee, secured by cushions that Nanny Friel had placed along the edge of the seat.
‘Thank you,’ Molly said to her. ‘Mrs McAllister said babies can turn over in their sleep and fall off a settee. Elizabeth’s probably too little to move that far, but you can never be too careful, Mrs Mac said.’ Nanny Friel, straining to understand what Molly was saying, nodded and smiled along with everyone else.
In the days that followed, Molly and Elizabeth stayed at home with Nanny Friel and Nurse Ambler, and Bess, Natalie and Miss Armstrong went out and looked for Mrs McAllister. They took a dozen or more copies of Mrs Mac’s description with them each day, which described her fully: her age, height, size, hair colour and Scottish accent – and on the bottom of each copy was Natalie’s telephone number in London and Bess’s at Foxden.
Between them, the three women visited every displaced person’s centre, homeless shelter and hostel – as well as the hospitals, from Queen Charlotte and St. Stephen’s in Fulham to the Brompton Hospital off Old Brompton Road, and from St. Mary’s Paddington and St. George’s at Hyde Park to St. Thomas’s on Westminster Bridge, which had been bombed on September 8th, the day after Arcadia Avenue.
Bess’s sister Margaret and her husband Bill, who lodged with the Goldman’s and worked in the West End, distributed Mrs McAllister’s description to central London’s police and ambulance stations, as well as the hospitals in the area. No one had seen or heard of anyone fitting Mrs McAllister’s description. It was as if she had never existed.
Bess put down the telephone and returned to the kitchen and her friends, who were already seated, eating breakfast. ‘I’m going back,’ she said. ‘That was Lady Foxden on the telephone. She reminded me that I have been away longer than agreed. She said she understood that I had responsibilities in London, but I also have responsibilities at Foxden.’
‘When will you leave?’ Natalie asked.
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow? What about Mrs Mac?’ Molly said.
‘There’s isn’t anything else I can do - any of us can do – until she’s found, Molly. So I asked Lady Foxden if Miss Armstrong and you and Elizabeth could come back to Foxden with me. And she agreed. I’ve already spoken to Miss Armstrong, asked her if she’d take on the job of Estate bookkeeper, but she says she’ll only come if you and Elizabeth come too. So what do you say, Molly? It’ll be safer and healthier for Elizabeth – no bombs and lots of fresh air.’
Molly thought for a minute and then said, ‘I’d like to go with you, and I know it would be better for Elizabeth, but what if Mrs Mac comes looking for us? How will she know where we are?’
‘Well, she knew I was coming to London, so she’ll put two and two together and realise you’ve come home with me.’
‘What if she can’t remember where you live?’ Molly asked.
‘Sweetheart, Mrs Mac has known my address at Foxden since before I came to lodge with her. And it’s been on every letter since I moved back. But if she has forgotten, all she has to do is go into the nearest police station. My name and telephone number is on every poster in every police station, hospital, hostel and voluntary organisation in west and central London. If Mrs Mac is found--’
‘What do you mean, if Mrs Mac is found?’
‘I didn’t mean if, I meant, when--’
‘Why did you say it then? Why did you say “if”?’ Molly looked at Bess, her eyes wild and accusing. ‘You think she’s dead, don’t you?’ she shouted.
‘No, Molly, of course I don’t think she’s dead.’ Bess put her arms around her young friend and held her until she was calm. ‘When Mrs Mac is found the authorities will probably notify Natalie first, because she lives in London. Natalie will telephone me, and I’ll come down to London straight away and bring her back to Foxden – I promise.’
‘And I promise to keep looking for your friend,’ Natalie said. ‘And when I find her, I will bring her here and look after her until Bess arrives. But today I think you should take Elizabeth to the country, where she will be safe.’
Natalie’s calm reasoning did the trick and Molly agreed to go to Foxden on condition she, like Miss Armstrong, worked to earn her and Elizabeth’s keep.
Bess laughed. ‘You might regret the offer, Moll. There’s tons of work to do on the Estate.’
‘Thank you, Natalie,’ Bess said. ‘Once again I don’t know what I’d have done without you. If there is ever anything ....’
Natalie took hold of Bess’s hands. Her eyes were brimming with tears. ‘There is something, Bess. Would you take Rebekah and the boys with you? Please? Would you ta
ke them to the country, so they too will be safe?’
Bess would have said yes, immediately, but it wasn’t up to her. Taking adults who could work was one thing, but three children… ‘I’m sure Her Ladyship won’t mind, but I’d better telephone first.’
‘Thank you Bess. Please tell your Lady that the children will not be any trouble. Nanny Friel and Nurse Ambler will come also, to look after them. And tell her that Anton will arrange money to be sent every week.’
Bess wasn’t sure whether adding two adults to the party would make things better or worse. She telephoned Lady Foxden, explained that since September 7th the bombing of London had been relentless, and asked if she could bring her friend’s three children back with her.
Lady Foxden had serious doubts about children living at the Hall. ‘We don’t have the staff to look after three children, Bess.’
‘You’re right, Lady Foxden,’ Bess said. ‘Perhaps it would be better if their nanny and nurse came with them. The children will be at school during the day, so Nanny could help Molly with Elizabeth. And to have a fully qualified nurse living at the Hall would be a real asset to the west wing.’ Bess paused to let the idea of a trained nurse looking after the servicemen in the west wing – her Ladyship’s favourite project – sink in. ‘And they won’t be a strain on the Estate’s finances. Every week my friend’s husband will deposit an agreed amount of money in the bank to pay for their board and lodging.’
Saving money, or acquiring it, was always a decisive factor where Lady Foxden was concerned. ‘Very well, but they are your responsibility, Bess. As long as your friends and their children don’t get in the way of your work on the Estate, I’m sure something can be arranged. I’ll leave the details to you and Porter. Goodbye,’ she said, and hung up.
Bess dialled the number again and while she waited for Mr Porter to come to the telephone, she gave Natalie the thumbs up. ‘I bamboozled Lady Foxden into accepting Nanny Friel and Nurse Ambler. I didn’t give her a chance to draw breath, never mind voice her objections, which I’m sure she had by the cart load,’ she said. Mr Porter came on the line and although he showed little enthusiasm, he agreed to ask a couple of the girls to prepare five bedrooms – one with a cot – and arrange transport to collect nine people from Rugby station.
‘Thank you, Natalie. I don’t know what we’d have done without your help and your hospitality,’ Bess said, biting back the tears as she prepared to leave.
‘Nor me without you, Bess. I don’t know what our family would have done without you,’ Natalie said again, kissing Bess on both cheeks. ‘Goodbye, darling Nanny, and dear Nurse Ambler, look after my children for me?’
Great pear-shaped tears fell from Nanny Friel’s eyes onto her plump cheeks, which she mopped up with a large white handkerchief. Unable to speak, she threw her arms around Natalie and held her in a bear hug before kissing her goodbye.
Nurse Ambler, saddened to see how distraught Nanny was, said, ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Goldman, Nanny and I will look after the children, won’t we, Nanny?’
‘Ja, ja. Kommen jetzt, Krankenschwester Ambler, der Zug wird nicht warten auf Sie.’
Natalie was about to translate when Nurse Ambler, seeing how upset Nanny was, shook her head. ‘There’s no need, Mrs Goldman. I’ll catch her up, make sure she’s all right. Goodbye!’ Nurse Ambler put out her hand and Natalie Goldman shook it warmly. ‘We’ll wait for the children in the car,’ she said, and hurried off after Nanny.
Having opened the front passenger door for Nanny Friel and the back door for Nurse Ambler, Anton loaded the suitcases into the boot of his car, and then returned to his seat to wait for the children. The taxi driver, after helping Miss Armstrong, Molly and baby Elizabeth into the back of his cab, stood by the passenger door and waited for Bess.
Natalie bent down and kissed each of her children. ‘Be brave, my darlings. And be good for Bess,’ she said, chucking Samuel under the chin. ‘I promise that the minute this horrible war is over Daddy and I will come for you and bring you home. Until then, my precious ones, remember we love you.’
‘I’m sorry, Natalie.’ Bess looked at her wristwatch. ‘If we’re going to catch the train…’
A sob caught in Natalie’s throat. ‘Yes, of course. It’s time for you to go, children,’ she said. ‘Rebekah, will you take the boys to the car?’
Rebekah took her arms from around her mother’s waist and stepped back, but her brothers clung on like young branches clinging to a tree. ‘My heart is breaking,’ she mouthed to Bess. ‘You will look after my children for me, won’t you?’ she said.
Nodding and trying not to cry herself, Bess said, ‘Of course.’
Rebekah put her arm around her oldest brother’s shoulder. ‘Come on, Benjamin,’ she said. Benjamin looked up at his mother and smiled, and then let go of her. But Samuel, his eyes wide and pleading, clung to his mother, kicking and screaming when his brother and sister tried to pull him from her.
‘Samuel, if we don’t leave now we’re going to miss the train,’ Bess said in a firm but sympathetic voice.
‘Mama, Mama,’ Natalie’s youngest son cried as Bess lifted him up and carried him to his father’s car.
‘Shalom, my friend,’ Natalie Goldman whispered through her tears. ‘Shalom.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
The northbound platforms at Euston Station heaved with people waiting to board trains to the Midlands and the North. Fights broke out as people pushed their way to the front of the queue, arguing that they had been first in line and waiting the longest.
Bess, Miss Armstrong, Nanny Friel and Nurse Ambler stood in a rigid semi-circle behind Molly and the children. No matter who pushed, or how hard they pushed, the four women stood firm and held their ground. Except for moving forward after each train had picked up its passengers and left the station, the four women didn’t budge. It was the only way to protect Molly and the children from being crushed, as well as keep their place in the queue, and it worked. At one o’clock that afternoon Bess and her party boarded the train to Rugby.
The train was as crowded and noisy – and almost as hazardous – as the platform had been. Men pushed, shoved and struggled to hold onto their bags and suitcases, while mothers tried to pacify their frightened and often crying children. Unable to take any more of Elizabeth’s howls, a man sitting in the compartment next to the corridor where Bess and the Goldman party were standing got up and gave Molly his seat. About time too, Bess thought, and she smiled as he pushed past.
The journey north was stressful – and took much longer than expected. But the Goldman children turned the journey into an adventure. Even Samuel stopped crying and joined in the fun. He couldn’t remember the words to the songs, nor spell when they played I-spy, which made everyone laugh, including their young nurse, Ruth Ambler. For Nanny Friel, who hadn’t spent any time away from Natalie and Anton Goldman since coming to England, it was a terrifying experience.
‘Am I pleased to see you!’ Bess called to Laura and Polly when she saw them on the platform at Rugby station. ‘We have a little more luggage and a few more people than originally planned,’ she said, handing bags and boxes to the two land girls who stood open-mouthed as they watched more and more people get off the train.
‘This is Miss Armstrong, Molly, and baby Elizabeth,’ Bess said to the two land girls, ‘my friends from my student days. And this is Polly and Laura, two of Foxden’s hard-working Land Army girls – and my friends.’
‘Pleased to meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you,’ Laura said.
‘We’ve been looking forward to meeting you,’ Polly added.
‘And this is Nanny Friel, Nurse Amber and… Oh, you can introduce yourselves,’ Bess said to the giggling children standing before her.
‘Welcome to the country, everyone,’ Laura shouted above the hullabaloo.
‘Good job your dad got the manager of the foundry to lend us their bus,’ Polly said, laughing. ‘Come on kids, your charabanc awaits. And, on the left!’ she shouted,
marching off with the children falling in step behind her. ‘Come on, keep up!’ she called, leading them down the tunnel to the street and the bus.
Mrs Hartley, standing in the doorway of her kitchen when Foxden’s newest residents arrived, shouted, ‘This way if you’re hungry.’ The land girls cheered, saying, ‘We’re starving,’ and ‘Save some for us.’ But the Goldman children, looking around wide-eyed and standing together as if they were glued to each other, said nothing.
‘In you come then, my lovelies,’ Mrs Hartley said. ‘Are you hungry?’ Not waiting for an answer, she continued. ‘We’ve got jelly for afters. And,’ she said to Samuel, ‘when you’ve had your tea, I bet one of these lovely ladies will take you to see the ponies. Do you like ponies?’ she asked Benjamin, who nodded. ‘I bet you do too, darling,’ she said to Rebekah. ‘Now then, sit where you like. We’re all friends here.’
After tea, Iris took the children to see the horses and then entertained them in James’s old playroom while the adults unpacked.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right with this motley crew?’ Bess joked.
‘Oh yes. We’re already friends, thanks to her Ladyship’s ponies, which I’ve promised to take them to see again tomorrow. And,’ she said to Samuel, ‘I bet if you’re good, her Ladyship will let you ride one of them. Would you like that?’
‘Yes,’ Samuel said, making cow eyes at Iris.
‘I think you’ve got an admirer,’ Bess whispered.
Iris looked down at the little boy. ‘The feeling’s mutual.’
Lingering for longer than was good for her heart, Bess thought of James as a little boy and imagined him playing with the colourful wooden train that Samuel was playing with now. ‘I’ll leave you to it then. If you need any help, you’ve only got to shout. Nanny Friel’s room is just along the corridor,’ Bess said before closing the door on the excited brood.
*
Foxden Acres (The Dudley Sisters Quartet Book 1) Page 21
