by June Tate
‘Me too,’ she agreed. ‘Working in a factory is great and I’m enjoying it.’
‘Why did you decide to change your job?’
There was no way Belle was going to tell him the truth. ‘I heard of a job going in the factory. The money was good and I could please myself as to what hours I worked. It was time for a change. Cora, one of the other girls, now works with me. We share a flat, so it’s a whole new life.’
A nurse came to tell her visiting hours were over. She kissed Jackson goodbye until the following day when she would return.
‘No flirting with the nurses now,’ she laughed as she rose to leave.
‘There’s only one woman for me, you know that, Belle, honey.’ And he watched her leave, waving to her as she looked back from the doorway.
The following morning, Belle was able to give Hildy the news that her fiancé was fine. She told Hildy what Jackson had said about Milt being a good soldier and saw how pleased her supervisor was.
‘I just pray he comes through it all, so we can be together again. I’m glad your friend is okay. When I write to Milt, I’ll tell him about Jackson. He’ll be pleased to have news of one of his men.’
During the next two weeks, Belle spent her afternoons at the hospital. After a few days, Jackson was able to walk with her in the grounds. They would find a secluded spot away from prying eyes where they could snuggle up together and exchange kisses and one afternoon, Jackson was allowed out of the hospital grounds for the afternoon. They took a taxi to Belle’s flat where they were able to climb into bed and make love once again.
As they lay together, content to be with each other, Belle said, ‘I’m really going to miss you when you leave … again!’
‘Me too, honey, but you know there ain’t no way we can be together. Folks have learnt a certain amount of tolerance during wartime, but after … we’d have no chance and I wouldn’t dream of putting you in a situation like that.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘You will meet some nice guy and settle down. A man who will take care of you, who will be acceptable to your friends and others. You know I’m being honest, honey. That’s life. That’s reality.’
She knew he was right, but it didn’t help the way she was feeling.
That evening, she received a telegram from Jackson saying he’d just been told he was being moved out the following morning and he would write. Although she knew it was coming at some point, she was devastated.
Chapter Fourteen
It took Belle some time to get over the departure of Jackson Butler. Cora was in despair trying to cheer her friend, but Belle would go to work, cook a meal, wash up and go to bed. Eventually she began to emerge from her depression and was more her old self.
It was her birthday on the Saturday and Cora suggested that they get some friends together at the Lord Roberts and have a party and, to that end, the word spread. Everyone took something to eat and the landlord gave the first drink for free. It turned out to be quite a night.
Belle was a popular woman and all evening long folk gathered, bringing gifts and cards. The pianist was playing and before long the sound of singing echoed round Canal Walk. ‘Roll Me Over in the Clover’ was followed by ‘Roll Out the Barrel’ and so on.
Towards the end of the evening, Belle, now well lubricated with alcohol, stood in the middle of the bar and started to sing ‘We’ll Meet Again’ and her husky voice filled with emotion. The bar was silent until she’d finished, then the applause rang out, but Cora saw the tears in her eyes and knew that she’d been thinking of Jackson.
Belle walked back to her seat, but didn’t sit down. She looked at Cora and with a tremble in her voice said, ‘Let’s go home.’
Hildy had written to Milt telling him about Jackson and that he’d been shipped home. She was very surprised when she received an answer. Milt told her that Jackson had saved his life and the following day during lunch break, she shared the news with Belle.
‘It seems that your man saw a sniper about to shoot Milt and pushed him down on the ground, then shot the sniper.’
Belle was puffed up with pride. ‘That’s marvellous,’ she said. ‘My Jackson is a special kind of man.’
‘Well, next time you write, you thank him for me.’
‘I certainly will,’ said Belle, wondering if she’d hear once Jackson was home.
Three weeks later, Belle was sitting in her dressing gown having a cup of tea, when she heard the postman put something through the letter box. There on the mat was a letter with an American stamp on it. Picking it up, she hurried back to the kitchen, sat down and opened the envelope.
My dearest Belle,
Well, here I am back in Alabama with my family. The shoulder is healing well and pretty soon I’ll be just fine. I’m no longer a soldier, but have been honourably discharged due to my injury. I’ve got a Purple Heart for my trouble. I guess that’s a whole lot better than a casket with a flag.
It’s great to see my family again, but after being away and in another world, I can’t see me sticking around here for much longer. Nothing has changed, Belle. The fact that I fought for my country don’t make no difference no more. The black man is still a no count nigger as far as white folk living here think and I’m damned if I’m going to be told to sit in the back of a bus!
I’m taking the money I saved in the army and am going to New York to find work. New York is more open minded to men like me. OK, I can’t find a job that gives me no real standing in society, but I can wait tables, earn money and at least be treated better that here in the south.
I ain’t never ever going to forget you, Belle, honey. You treated me with respect for the first time in my life and that was real special. You are real special, I want you to know that. I’m leaving in a couple of days’ time and when I’m settled I’ll write again.
I miss you like hell.
You look after yourself now.
All my love,
Jackson
She read the letter several times. It was as she thought. He was now too much of a man to be treated with contempt and she felt he’d made a good choice to move to New York. She remembered how the GIs from the northern states of America had not been the ones to take offence at seeing a black man in their midst; they were treated like any other soldier. It had been those from the southern states who’d been so outraged due to their upbringing. She’d have to wait to hear from him again with an address to which she could reply, but she was delighted that he had written.
Joe Keating knocked on Olive’s kitchen door and gave her his notice. She was surprised and disappointed. After all her lodger had come and gone quietly, paid his rent on time and had been no trouble.
‘I’ll be leaving tomorrow,’ he told her.
‘But you’ve paid until the end of the week,’ she argued.
‘Yes, I’m aware of that.’
‘I hope you’re not expecting a rebate?’
Joe could see the woman was ready for battle and thought what an unpleasant creature she was.
‘No, Mrs Dickson, I’m not. After all, it’s my choice as to when I leave, not yours.’ He turned and walked upstairs.
She didn’t say a word. There was a coldness in his tone that took her by surprise. Until then he’d been polite and affable, but today was very different. It made her a tad uncomfortable, which for her was a new experience.
That evening, Joe went out for a meal, then went to the cinema. At the end of the programme, as he walked down the stairs from the circle to the foyer, he saw Cora Barnes with her friend.
‘Good evening, ladies.’
They both turned and looked surprised. ‘Hello Mr Keating,’ said Cora, ‘and how are you?’
‘Fine, thank you.’ He nodded to Belle. Then putting his hand in his pocket he took out a small card. Handing it to Cora he said, ‘When eventually you do come to London, give me a call. I might be able to find you a job.’ With a smile, he walked away.
They both looked at the card. It said ‘Joe Keating. Business Consul
tant’ and an address of a London bank, with a phone number.
Belle glared at her friend. ‘You be very careful of that man!’
Cora laughed loudly. ‘Oh, Belle, he’s a nice bloke and that was really kind of him.’
Belle looked at her in astonishment. ‘There’s kind, but make sure there aren’t any strings attached. These days no one does anything for nothing. You know that!’
‘I probably won’t ever need his help, but I’ll keep it because you never know.’
Belle didn’t reply.
It was now late August and the news of the war was good. Paris had been liberated by the French and the tricolour flag replaced the Nazi swastika on the Eiffel Tower. It wasn’t all joyful in the beginning: collaborators were dragged through the streets and beaten and police had to protect captured German officers from being lynched. But eventually the celebrations began.
This was heartening news for troops still fighting in other parts of the country. It spurred them on with the thought that the fighting would soon be at an end and they could return to the safety of their homes.
Hank Mason wrote to Cora telling her all this. Her letters had been a constant comfort during the tough days and he was grateful to her. He was especially pleased to read that she was no longer working the streets of Southampton’s docklands. He wrote:
So pleased you are now working in a safer environment, Cora. So you are really my girl now!
This made her smile. She had enjoyed their relationship, but that was all it was and his friendly letters to her made that clear.
She really liked Hank, but she wasn’t in love with him. She could hardly wait for the war to end so she could move to the big city and start anew. The thought of it did scare her a little. Southampton was familiar and London wasn’t, but she was still determined to go. If she did find it hard to find work, she still had Joe Keating’s card, but she’d only contact him in an emergency.
In bed at night, she’d try to picture her future and make plans. Eventually she wanted a nice flat with two bedrooms, in case she had guests. But realised this wasn’t going to happen at once. It took time to find a nice place and she’d probably like to be outside the confines of the city. She didn’t know the area and would have to explore before deciding where she’d like to live. It excited her and scared her at the same time. But she was determined to be a new woman in every way. No one would know of her background so she could reinvent herself. She liked that idea.
Chapter Fifteen
The autumn passed and winter began. It was severe and bitterly cold and there was a shortage of coal. People were burning old furniture to try and keep warm. Food queues grew longer and the rationing was still meagre. Headlines in the paper reported that Glenn Miller, the popular band leader, was missing over the Channel, which saddened thousands who’d danced to his music.
At Christmas, however, the Canadians sent over a supply of beautiful red apples for the children and bananas. For some, it was the first time they’d seen this fruit, so imagine the scene when they were shown how to take off the peel before eating this strange phenomenon. The American troops still stationed in the town gave parties for the children and American candy was handed out, which delighted the children more than anything else.
Cora and Belle managed to buy a small sack of coal from one of their friends, but they didn’t ask where it came from; they were just delighted to be warm. They purchased a chicken, made paper chains out of crêpe paper and hung them around the small sitting room to try to make it look festive and Belle found some paper Chinese lanterns from a box of old decorations. On Christmas Eve, they went to a carol service at St. Michael’s Church.
As they settled in their pew, Belle looked around at the packed congregation, all huddled up in thick coats and scarves, but nevertheless there was a festive feel to the church, decorated with holly and berries, with the scene of the Nativity before the alter.
She knelt down and said her prayers – they were like so many others there, praying for an end to the war and the safe return of their loved ones.
Prayers were read and carols sung, the vicar filling the air with incense as he walked down the aisle, swinging the thurible on its long golden chain.
Belle loved the atmosphere created during a service; she admired the theatre of it all. It was a performance like no other and it cleansed her soul.
As she sat listening to the sermon, her mind wandered. She thought back to how she’d started her life on the streets of Southampton’s docklands, of the many men who’d paid for her services, knowing that many of them would not be returning home and she hoped she’d been able to give them some comfort in a strange land. Some she remembered clearly, others were a blur. Some she didn’t want to recall at all, but they were in the minority. It had been a tough way to earn a living, but she didn’t regret it. Now she was living a different kind of life, although she did wonder what she’d do after the war was over and the factory closed. Cora would be off to London and she’d be alone again. She didn’t relish that fact at all.
Cora felt tears trickle down her face as she sat staring at the altar. This was the fourth Christmas she’d spent without her parents. As a family, they’d always attend this carol service and suddenly it brought back the desolation of her loss.
On Christmas Eve, she and her mother would have prepared the vegetables for the Christmas dinner, made mince pies and wrapped gifts, placing them around the Christmas tree. Then they would have all had a small glass of sherry before making their way to the church.
Her mother Jessy was a gentle woman, a good mother and wife, and Cora knew that had she known how her daughter had earned her money, selling her body, she would have been appalled and ashamed. A sob caught in Cora’s throat and she closed her eyes, trying to get the thought from her mind. But at least now, she told herself, she was earning money in a way that would have met with her mother’s approval, so thanked the Lord for that.
She couldn’t wait to be able to move to London without anyone knowing of her shameful past. She would miss her friend Belle who had stood by her, but she had to make this move alone.
The girls trudged home in the cold, banking up the fire as soon as they stepped inside the flat. They had managed to buy some logs which helped to eke out their coal supply. Belle poured them a gin and tonic each and they sat warming themselves before the fire.
‘Well, I wonder where we’ll be this time next year?’ Belle muttered. ‘I hope to God the war will be over long before that.’
‘Oh, Belle, it can’t possibly last that long surely?’
‘Let’s hope not.’ She cut a couple of slices of bread and, putting them on a toasting fork, held them against the flames. ‘I long for roast beef and Yorkshire pudding,’ she said wistfully.
‘I want a bar of Cadbury chocolate and ice cream,’ Cora said.
‘I want to soak in a hot bath, with water up to the waste pipe.’ Belle said with a grin.
‘I want to go shopping for clothes that are not utility and without the need for coupons.’ Cora started to laugh. ‘One day, Belle. One day.’
Finally on 8th May 1945, the girls got their wish. The Germans had surrendered and Winston Churchill made his broadcast to the nation with the good news.
Thousands gathered at the Civic Centre in Southampton to celebrate VE Day. They cheered, danced and sang, some draped in British flags. ‘There’ll Always Be An England’ rang out. Troops from foreign lands joined in, knowing that for them it was all over too.
Belle was in the arms of an American GI, dancing to the music which was being played over loudspeakers, and Cora was doing the same with a Polish airman. People were kissing each other, carried away with joy that the war was over. The pubs were full, music played, people were ecstatic. But for those who’d lost kinfolk it was a muted celebration.
‘The boys will all be coming home!’ cried Belle, flinging her arm around Cora’s shoulder. ‘Your man Hank, Hildy’s fiancé Milt, thank God for that!’
&n
bsp; All the staff working in the munitions factory had been called to the canteen to hear the good news and listen to Winston Churchill speak. There was silence as they sat, hardly breathing with excitement. At the end of the speech, cheering began. Hildy Dickson found she was crying. Her Milt had come through safely. They could be married! He had never doubted the fact, but she had been terrified that she could have lost him. The knowledge that now he really was safe was all too much for her and she sobbed uncontrollably.
The girl sitting next to her put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Don’t cry, Hildy, love, it’s all over. Your man will be coming home.’
Mopping her tears and blowing her nose, Hildy said, ‘I know, but it’s just such a relief.’
They were given an extra half an hour lunch break before returning to their machines, then they all began wondering just how much longer they would be employed, but delighted that Spitfires would no longer be needed to fight the enemy.
In London, crowds gathered in front of Buckingham Palace and cheered wildly as the royal family came out onto the balcony. Earlier they’d listened to the King’s speech. It was a great celebration nationwide.
Olive Dickson heard the news in the shop where she worked. People from the street gathered to listen to Churchill as the owner turned up the volume on the wireless. It was the only topic of conversation for the rest of the day.
As she put the key into her front door and entered her empty house, she felt very much alone. Yes, she was pleased the war was over, of course she was, but that meant that Hildy would be free to marry her GI and leave Southampton for good.
She made a cup of tea and sat down. She really was alone now. She had no close friends. Her neighbours just nodded when they saw her and walked on. It was her own fault, of course. She hadn’t gone out of her way to make friends because she hadn’t needed them. She had Hildy at her beck and call – but not any longer. Even if they were on speaking terms, in time her daughter would leave to cross the Atlantic to another country and she’d probably never see her again. Her lodger had gone too. Not that she saw much of him, but it was a comfort to know he was in the house. Well, she’d just have to advertise again. But now, would there be anyone needing accommodation? She let out a deep sigh.
