The Docklands Girls

by June Tate

  During the days that followed, street parties were organised. Tables were set out in the streets, women raided their pantries and food was produced. Paper hats were found and bunting hung from windows and roofs. Pianos were wheeled out onto the street. Old grievances were buried. The whole atmosphere in the country changed. Folk wandered around with broad grins, hardly able to believe the good news. It was a joyous time for most.

  For those who’d lost members of their family, it was a mixed blessing. No more men and women needed to die and everyone was relieved about that, but so many had paid the ultimate sacrifice and there were many houses filled with sadness and broken hearts.

  As the celebrations continued, Hildy sat reading a letter from Milt.

  My darling,

  I can’t tell you how I feel right now, knowing that the fighting is over and we can all go home. As yet I don’t know if we’ll be shipped back to Southampton to be repatriated. I certainly hope so because I can’t wait to see you again. Then we’ll have to make plans for you to come to America where we can get married. Just be patient, my love, and know that it is now possible. I’ll write when I know what’s happening.

  All my love always,

  Milt

  A few weeks later, Cora was wondering if it was time for her to move out of Southampton and put her plan for a new life into place. She decided to take a day off and go to London to look for work. It was the only way. She didn’t want to give up her job until she’d found another, that would be foolish. She told Belle of her plans.

  ‘I’ll get an early train, buy a paper and visit a couple of employment exchanges to see if they have anything to offer.’

  Belle’s heart sank. She knew this day would come and she wanted her friend to get a new start, but Belle knew she would leave a deep void in her own life. They’d been through so much together.

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ she agreed. ‘Put your toe in the water so to speak. Well, good luck, love. Hope it goes well.’

  The following morning, Cora found a seat in a carriage and watched the countryside pass by as she sat beside the window, her heart beating faster with excitement and a certain trepidation.

  When she arrived at Waterloo and walked out of the station, she could still see the signs of war as she looked at the stacks of sand-filled sacks piled high in front of official looking buildings. She bought a couple of papers and went inside a cafe to read them, ordering a pot of tea. She turned to the situations vacant and began her search.

  By the end of the day, Cora was exhausted and disappointed. So far she’d not been able to find suitable employment as her lack of training had held her back in many instances. Women who had taken over men’s positions in various establishments were now expected to step down when the men returned from the war and it made the situation even worse for her.

  There were menial jobs on offer, but none that appealed to her. She didn’t fancy washing out public toilets, or sweeping streets. If she was going to start a fresh life, she at least wanted to start with a job that paid well and gave her some satisfaction. She’d been to employment agencies and left her name and address should they have anything to offer in the future, but she caught a late train home feeling weary and dejected.

  Belle, in her nightdress and dressing gown, heard the front door open. She waited to see how her friend had made out with mixed feelings, but as soon as she saw the look on Cora’s face, she knew that the day had not been a success and quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

  Cora sat down and immediately removed her shoes and massaged her aching feet.

  ‘Bloody waste of time that was!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Belle as she put on the kettle to make her friend a cup of tea.

  Cora told her of her attempts to find a job. It was a long and sorry tale.

  ‘So what will you do?’ asked Belle.

  ‘I’ll leave it for a few weeks and try again.’ At the back of her mind, she thought that if the same thing happened she’d contact Joe Keating. After all, he’d offered to find her work and if she couldn’t do it by herself, she’d have no option. Not if she was determined to move to the metropolis.

  A month later saw her once again on a train heading for Waterloo Station.

  By late afternoon, Cora was totally frustrated. She had decided that she’d really like to work in one of the department stores, but when she’d enquired, she was told there were no positions vacant. In desperation, she’d tried cafes and restaurants for a job as a waitress, but those she’d tried wanted people with experience. She sat on a bench in a park, lit a cigarette and took out Joe Keating’s card and read it. Across the road was a phone booth and after giving the matter some considerable thought, she walked across the road, put her money in the box, dialled a number then pressed button ‘A’ when she heard a voice answer.

  ‘Joe Keating, Business Consultant.’ It was a woman speaking.

  ‘Could I speak to Mr Keating, please?’

  ‘May I ask who is calling?’

  ‘Miss Cora Barnes from Southampton.’

  ‘Please hold the line.’

  Cora waited, her heart pounding. What if he didn’t remember her?

  ‘Well, Miss Cora Barnes, this is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?’

  The relief she felt was enormous when she heard his voice. ‘I’m here in London looking for a job and I’m not having any luck and you did tell me to call you if I needed any help. So here I am!’

  She heard a soft chuckle on the line. ‘Indeed you are. Where are you?’

  ‘I’m not at all sure,’ she said. ‘I’m in a call box.’

  ‘Look at the notice on the wall of the box and there will be an address.’

  She did as she was told and eventually found it and relayed the information.

  ‘Fine, wait outside and I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.’ He replaced the receiver.

  Cora stepped outside and let out a deep breath. Belle will be furious with me, she thought, but I’m desperate. It can’t do any harm just to talk to the man.

  A few minutes later, a cab pulled up and Joe opened his door and beckoned to her. Feeling more than a little nervous, she walked over and climbed inside.

  ‘How nice to see you – you look well,’ he said smiling at her. ‘We’ll go for a quiet drink and chat and you can tell me what’s happened during your search.’

  ‘That’s kind of you,’ she said and sat looking out at the passing scenery, not knowing what else to say.

  The cab pulled up outside a small hotel and they got out. Joe paid the cab driver and taking her arm, led her inside to a small, well furnished cocktail lounge where a waiter came over to take their order.

  ‘What would you like?’ he asked. At her hesitation, he said, ‘Are you thirsty after your long day?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Two Tom Collins,’ he told the waiter and looking at Cora he said, ‘You’ll find it very refreshing, I promise. Now, tell me about your day.’

  Cora explained that this was her second time in London searching for employment. She told him where she’d been and the lack of success she’d had.

  ‘It seems an impossibility to find work; after all, I’ve no training in anything.’

  ‘What kind of job are you looking for?’

  ‘I’d really like to work in a nice shop, you know, selling women’s clothes. I so want to be surrounded by beautiful things for a change. Does that sound ridiculous?’

  ‘Absolutely not! I fully understand that. You want to leave the seedy streets behind with your past, right?’

  ‘You do understand!’ She relaxed in her chair. ‘That’s exactly how I feel, but the big department stores don’t have any vacancies.’

  He handed her a tall glass the waiter had just delivered. ‘Here, try this.’

  Cora took a sip and liked it. ‘Oh that just hits the spot, doesn’t it? Thank you.’ She took another and put the glass down on the table.

  Joe looked thoughtful. ‘I don
’t think a big store is a good idea, Cora. A small shop is where you should start and where you’ll learn the business of selling. You have a natural charm, so you’ll do well with the customers, but you need to learn the trade.’

  She looked crestfallen. ‘Where do I find a place like that?’

  ‘You don’t, I will. You just have to be patient and give me time.’

  ‘Really? You can do this?’ Her look of surprise amused him.

  ‘Yes, I can. Didn’t I tell you some time ago to get in touch with me and I’d find you a job?’

  She looked a little embarrassed. ‘You did.’

  He chuckled softly. ‘I am a man of my word; I want you to know that.’ He paused. ‘Have you thought about living accommodation?’

  ‘Not yet. I needed work before I could look for a place to stay and … it would have to be small and inexpensive.’ She frowned. ‘Can you suggest somewhere? As I don’t know the city at all.’

  ‘Now, Cora, don’t worry, we’ll sort something out when I find you a job. Have you eaten?’ he asked.

  ‘I stopped for a sandwich this morning, that’s all.’

  ‘Right, then. Drink up and we’ll go into the dining room to have a meal before you set off back to Southampton.’

  She was about to protest, but Joe wouldn’t listen. ‘I know how tiring a day in London can be. Come along, you’ll feel better with some food inside you.’

  The dining room was elegant. The chandeliers glistened in the light. The tables looked pristine with their white cloths and silver cutlery. It had an air of sophistication and money and Cora felt she should be dressed in jewels and fur to match the elegant surroundings. But Joe soon put her at her ease.

  They talked about the war ending, of the men who would be returning home, of those families who would be mourning the loss of some and of the future.

  ‘There is so much rebuilding to be done, here and in other towns that were severely bombed,’ Joe said. ‘There are still shortages, but eventually we’ll get back to normal again, it’ll just take time.’

  It was a pleasant hour and a half and after they’d eaten, Joe called a cab and drove her to the station. He took note of her address and told her he’d be in touch.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ said Cora as she climbed out of the cab.

  ‘Don’t mention it, my dear young lady. It’s my pleasure.’

  ‘To my rescue yet again!’ Cora exclaimed with a grin. She could hear his laughter as she walked towards the entrance.

  As she sat on the train on the way home, she wasn’t feeling downhearted any more. Mr Keating said he would find her work and somehow she believed him. Belle said people came into your lives for a reason; maybe this was why he was in hers. She fervently hoped so.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hildy could hardly contain her excitement. Milt had written to say he would be shipped to Southampton to a camp in Tidworth before being sent home and he’d try to get permission to see her.

  There’s no way they’re going to stop me from seeing you, darling, even if I have to go AWOL to do it! However, the fact that we are engaged makes it more hopeful because we’ll have to make plans for the future. I can’t wait to see you, Hildy. God! It seems a lifetime ago that we were together and believe me, it’s seemed a very long war.

  I want to catch the mail so must close. I’m counting the days.

  All my love for ever,

  Milt

  She was not only delighted with the news of his homecoming, but relieved too. The factory would be closing down soon and all the staff were worried about finding jobs elsewhere, but for her, she hoped it wouldn’t be long before she’d be leaving to be with Milt in America. It was a somewhat daunting change, but she had no reason to stay. She felt no responsibility towards her mother, which in one way was so sad. But if she was being honest, leaving her behind would be like a weight lifted from her shoulders. Still being in the same town, it was as if there was an invisible bond holding them together, even if it was tenuous.

  Two weeks later, the ship carrying American troops back to England for repatriation docked in Southampton and three days after, Hildy was in her flat waiting for Milt to arrive. She was a nervous wreck. By mid-morning she’d changed her clothes several times until she eventually decided what to wear. Her hands were trembling with excitement and anticipation. Would he have changed? Would she still feel the same when she saw him? Would he still feel the same? She sat down in a chair at the thought. How dreadful that would be if he didn’t. The doorbell rang and for a moment she couldn’t move, then she got to her feet and rushed to the door.

  Milt stood there, a broad grin on his face. ‘Hello Hildy.’

  She flung her arms around him and burst into tears.

  Milt picked her up and carried her into the living room saying, ‘Well, honey, I’ve never reduced a woman to tears before and I only said “hello”.’

  She held his face and kissed him longingly. ‘Oh, Milt, I’m so happy to see you.’

  Laughing he said, ‘Thank goodness for that, for a moment you had me worried.’ He gazed at her and said, ‘God, you’ve no idea how much I’ve longed to see you, to hold you. You look great.’

  She led him to the settee and as they sat holding hands, she thought he looked older and careworn. The months of warfare had taken its toll which was to be expected and Milt looked as if he’d been through hell. There were dark circles under his eyes, he’d lost weight, but it didn’t matter because he was here in one piece. She’d take care of him, make him whole again.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she said, ‘and make a cup of tea.’

  He chuckled and took a small packet from his bag and handed it to her. ‘Coffee,’ he said. ‘Sorry, honey, but I’m an American who has yet to really enjoy the English habit of drinking tea.’

  He watched her through the open kitchen door as she busied herself and felt himself begin to unwind. This was the sort of peaceful domestic scene he’d envisaged through the war. It was the one thing that kept him sane in moments of carnage. Guns firing, bombs exploding, dead bodies, the smell of cordite and the sight of blood. He knew that these things would remain with him for a time, but with Hildy he could begin a new life, something with purpose, unlike war, which seemed to have little.

  Walking into the kitchen, he enveloped her into his arms. ‘Leave the coffee, let’s go to bed.’

  It was now over three weeks since Cora had met with Joe Keating in London, but so far she’d not heard from him. She’d began to believe that her hopes were lost when one morning Belle collected the mail from the mat and handed her an envelope.

  ‘This is for you – it looks very official; the address is printed.’

  Cora opened it and saw the heading. Joe Keating, Business Consultant. Holding her breath, she began to read.

  Dear Miss Barnes,

  I apologise for taking so long, but at last I do have some good news for you. There is a vacancy for an assistant in a small dress shop off Tottenham Court Road called Lyntons, Number 122, Percy Street and I have made an appointment for you for an interview with the manageress on Thursday at 2.30. I think it’s just what you’re looking for.

  Good luck!

  Joe Keating

  Seeing the look of glee on Cora’s face, Belle asked, ‘Good news?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve an interview for a job in London on Thursday next!’

  ‘Oh my goodness, that’s great. Was it from an agency?’

  Cora hesitated then said, ‘No. It’s from Joe Keating.’

  Belle looked astonished. ‘Joe Keating? You got in touch with that man?’

  Hearing the note of censure in Belle’s voice, Cora stood her ground. ‘Yes, Belle, I did. I spent fruitless hours searching for work and I was desperate, so I rang him.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘We met, had a drink and a chat and he said he’d find me work – and he has.’

  ‘What’s the catch?’ Belle asked.

  ‘There is no catch. He promised to hel
p me if I was stuck and he has, thank God! Mind you, I’ve got to get through the interview first.’

  Belle sat back in her chair and glared at her friend. ‘I wouldn’t worry about that, Cora. I would think it’s a certainty. Joe Keating wouldn’t have told you about it otherwise.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Call it a gut feeling. That man has his finger in a lot of pies, I would say. Anyway, good luck. Just be careful there isn’t a price to pay for his good deed that’s all!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Listen, love, call me a sceptic, but I’ve been around too long and I’ve learnt a thing or two. People seldom do things without some agenda, especially where men are concerned. Just watch your step is all I’m saying.’ She rose from her chair and went upstairs.

  Cora was now perplexed. Belle was a wise woman but in this case she was wrong … or Cora hoped she was wrong. In any case, she wasn’t a fool. As far as she was concerned, there would be no strings, she’d make sure of that.

  The following Thursday, she dressed smartly in her best costume and hat, caught a train and a taxi to the address she’d been given and after she’d paid the driver, she looked in the window of the shop. It was tastefully dressed with three mannequins wearing stylish dresses, hats, and handbags draped on their arms. One or two other hats were placed on draped material. It all looked very classy. Taking a deep breath, she entered.