The Docklands Girls

by June Tate

  For the next few days, Belle took her guest all over the island, travelling by bus to see the sights. They stopped at the odd pub for lunch and occasionally at a hotel, sitting in deckchairs on the beach with a picnic, which delighted Olive. Belle was good company and eventually Olive forgot about being frail and indeed once or twice found herself laughing.

  In the evenings before dinner, it was their habit to walk along the seafront and as the days progressed, Olive lost the post-operation pallor. Her cheeks filled out and the sun and sea breeze coloured her skin. She looked a picture of health and was walking spritely.

  On the final evening, Belle took her to a local hotel for dinner and made sure that Olive had a couple of glasses of wine to put her in a mellow mood.

  Belle held her up her glass. ‘Cheers, Mrs Dickson,’ she said. ‘Thank you for coming to stay; I’ve really enjoyed your company. You know you really are a good-looking woman. I can’t see you living alone for the rest of your life.’

  With a frown, Olive asked, ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You should get out and about when you go home, meet people. You could meet a nice man. Someone to share your life with.’

  Olive stiffened. ‘No, thanks! I did that once – never again.’

  ‘Not every man is the same, you know. I was married once, but I’m not against meeting another man and getting married again. Living alone can be lonely. You should think about it.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ Olive muttered and Belle left the matter there.

  The following day, Belle took Olive to the ferry and travelled with her to her house. She’d packed a bag with food she’d cooked and started to unpack it.

  ‘Here you are, Mrs D. I made a couple of pies for you and there is some vegetables too to keep you going until you get to the shops yourself.’

  ‘Hildy does my shopping or one of the nurses.’

  ‘But you won’t need them now, look at you. You’re as fit as a fiddle! The sea air and stay on the island was just what you needed. Come on, let’s have a cup of tea, I’ve brought some milk, then I’ll be off.’

  Belle let Olive make the tea and produced a couple of cakes. ‘Here, just to finish off the holiday.’

  At that moment, Hildy knocked on the door and Belle let her in.

  ‘My goodness, Mum, you look so much better. You’ve got colour in your cheeks. The break has done you a world of good.’

  Olive was just about to argue the point when Belle interrupted. ‘Your mother is fine now, Hildy. You should see her walking along the seafront every evening and she’s got her appetite back, haven’t you?’ She turned to Olive who couldn’t argue after all the food she’d consumed at Belle’s expense.

  ‘Yes, Belle really looked after me,’ she said reluctantly.

  ‘I’ve bought some food to see your mother over a day or two until she goes shopping,’ said Belle giving Hildy a knowing look.

  ‘That’s great,’ she said.

  Belle stood up. ‘Well, Mrs Dickson, love, I’m off. I’m taking Hildy with me as we’ve a lot to catch up on. Thanks for your company, you take care of yourself now.’

  Hildy, following Belle’s lead, said, ‘Well, I’m really happy to see that you’ve recovered. I’ll pop in in a couple of days to see you.’

  ‘What about the nurses?’ asked Olive.

  ‘Oh, I’ve cancelled them, Mum. After all, you’re able to look after yourself now, thanks to Belle. The hospital said it would take about a month and obviously they were right.’ She walked towards the door.

  ‘Bye, Mrs Dickson,’ said Belle, ‘remember what I said about getting out and meeting people.’ She gave her a knowing wink and left the house with Hildy.

  Outside, Hildy looked at her friend. ‘Bloody hell, Belle! What did you do? Mother looks a different woman.’

  Belle started to laugh. ‘Your mother is a snob, did you know that?’

  Hildy shook her head.

  ‘Once she saw my house, she changed. I took her out every day, we ate in pubs and the occasional hotel and she lapped it up. Soon forgot she was supposed to be ill. Now don’t you let her try and fool you, she’s completely recovered. Leave her long enough that she has to go out and do some shopping. About four days should do it. Come on, let’s go to the pub and have a drink to celebrate!’

  ‘I don’t know how to thank you, Belle.’

  ‘Just one way. Don’t let her take you for a ride again. Keep your distance, don’t call too often and go on different days. Remember she’s still the same devious woman.’

  Olive, now alone, sat drinking her tea. She realised that her game was over; Belle had been too clever for her. But she had enjoyed her stay, she had to admit that. She got up and looked at her reflection in the mirror on the wall. Belle said she was still a good-looking woman. She turned her face this way and that and decided that indeed she didn’t look bad. Her cheeks had filled out so her normally gaunt look had disappeared. Another husband? She wasn’t too sure about that. But she had to accept that Hildy would soon be leaving Southampton to be with her husband and then she’d really be on her own.

  She didn’t want to continue washing floors in the pub, she’d look again for another job. Maybe another lodger. Belle had made her think. Having been out and about and enjoying herself on the Isle of Wight, she realised she needed to change her life, she’d go and buy the local paper and look again at the situations vacant. She didn’t want to go back to staying within her four walls all the time so tomorrow she’d take herself off to the pier for a walk but now she had to unpack.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  That evening, Cora and Simon were sitting in a pub having a quiet drink. He was telling her that something big was in the offing, but he couldn’t tell her any more, except to say it would make the headlines in all the national newspapers if it came to pass.

  Of course she was curious, but knew better than to question him. Simon was a dedicated policeman and was in the force for the foreseeable future. He was studying for his sergeants’ exam at this moment. He did sometimes tell her little snatches of things that happened, but only minor things, usually about folk who had called out the police for silly things, like the woman who called because her husband came home drunk and was walking around the garden naked.

  However, several days later Simon was able to tell her about the case.

  ‘There are two brothers running a black market business in Southampton,’ he said. ‘But now they have tried to move their stuff to the city in co-operation with another London gang and have been caught red-handed. So we’ve been able to arrest several men. We’re working with the Southampton police. It’s a real feather in our caps.’

  ‘Who are these Southampton racketeers?’ Cora asked.

  ‘The James brothers. They were into everything. Stolen petrol coupons, clothing coupons, foodstuff stolen from the NAAFI. And we found them selling sawn-off shotguns.’

  Cora remained silent. She knew of the James boys who used the Horse and Groom regularly and were well known for their criminal activities. It had been rumoured that they had a couple of the police in their pockets and this had kept them out of jail. But she kept this information to herself.

  ‘I’m off to your old town tomorrow,’ he told her. ‘I’m liaising with the police there so we can share all the information before the case goes to court.’

  This made Cora nervous. Simon would probably be visiting the very places she used when she worked the streets and she didn’t like the idea at all.

  ‘That should be interesting for you,’ she said and changed the subject.

  Simon was kept busy the following morning once he’d arrived at Southampton police headquarters. He’d been out with a squad, searching various premises, where they had discovered the James brothers had stowed stuff away and were amazed at the amount of black market goods they’d uncovered. All of which had to be listed and labelled. At lunchtime they went back to the canteen for a meal.

  Sitting next to one of the sergeants,
he was asked, ‘Is this your first visit to the town?’

  ‘Yes it is,’ he said, ‘but my girlfriend, Cora, lived here.’

  ‘Cora,’ mused the sergeant, ‘now that’s an unusual name. I only ever heard of one before and that was the name of one of the brasses we arrested one night. Pretty young girl.’

  ‘I best not tell her that,’ laughed Simon, ‘she wouldn’t be very flattered.’

  But when he returned to the station that evening to round off the day with his notes and report, the sergeant called him over.

  ‘Here you are, lad, this is my Cora: as I said she was very pretty so I reckon your girl wouldn’t be too upset if she looked like that. This Cora was arrested with her friend Belle.’ And he handed over the files.

  Simon looked at the picture and paled. Then he started to read the report, noting where Cora was picked up, the pub she frequented and her charge for soliciting in Canal Walk along with Belle Newman.

  Fortunately the sergeant had been called away so was unaware of the havoc he’d caused. Simon put the file back on the desk and left the building. He asked the way to Canal Walk and the Horse and Groom. He was not in uniform so didn’t cause alarm as he walked into the bar and ordered a half of bitter. At the bar, he looked round the room and saw a couple of women sat drinking, picking up clients and leaving only to return later. He was stunned and still couldn’t quite believe what he’d discovered.

  It was a quiet evening and he started talking to the barmaid, asking if she knew Cora. She did.

  ‘Yes, lovely girl. Lost her parents and her home in the Blitz,’ she informed him. ‘Such a shame to see her on the game. That girl was far too good for the streets. Thankfully I heard she’d moved on.’ She walked to the end of the bar to serve another customer.

  Simon left, hailed a taxi and was driven to the station to catch a late train back to London. Tomorrow evening he’d arranged to take Cora out to the cinema.

  The next night, Cora had changed ready for her date with Simon. They were going to the West End to see a film and out to a night club, as a treat he’d said, and she was looking forward to it. She made a cup of tea and sat waiting. Simon was late which was not unusual, he was sometimes held up due to some case or other.

  In fact, her boyfriend was sitting in a nearby pub drinking half a bitter, trying to make up his mind as to the best way to bring up the devastating discovery of her past. He was finding it very difficult to believe. Cora had behaved like any young lady with morals when she was with him. Yes, their kisses had been full of passion, until that one night when she’d invited him into her bed and their relationship had become intimate … and now he’d been told she sold her body for money.

  He sighed deeply and lit a cigarette. There could be no mistake – she had a crime sheet, for God’s sake! He closed his eyes as if to shut out the fact. His girl – a prostitute? He’d taken many of those into custody in the past. It was part and parcel of their lives. They laughed, paid the fine and usually went straight back out onto the streets. How could Cora be involved in something so sordid?

  Leaving his drink, he put out his cigarette and walked towards her bedsit.

  Hearing his familiar knock on the door, Cora rushed to open it. ‘Hello darling. You’re late, is everything alright?’ She leant forward and kissed him. He hardly responded, then walked past her and sat on her daybed.

  Cora froze. What on earth was the matter with him?

  ‘What’s wrong, Simon?’

  ‘Come and sit down, Cora,’ he said, patting the seat beside him.

  She did so and waited.

  He looked her straight in the eye. ‘I was talking to a sergeant in Southampton and I happened to mention you by name. He told me that he only had ever heard that name once before when a local prostitute had been arrested for soliciting along with her friend Belle. He showed me the files.’ He waited for her reaction.

  Cora felt sick. The very thing she’d been dreading had happened. There was absolutely no point in denying it, none at all. She straightened her back and met his gaze unflinchingly. She’d been down this road before with Hank Mason, but she’d not been in love with him. This time it was different.

  ‘Yes, Simon. I’m afraid that’s true.’

  Although he knew that it was true, crime sheets don’t lie, to hear Cora admit to it was devastating. He was speechless.

  ‘That was during the war in another life. I came to London to put that all behind me and start again. Don’t look at me like that, Simon, I can’t bear it!’

  ‘How do you expect me to look?’ Now he was angry. ‘I meet a girl, fall in love with her and discover she isn’t at all who I think she is.’

  Cora heard the words of love spoken and her heart was breaking.

  ‘Don’t you see, you idiot! How could I tell you? I love you too, I didn’t want anything to spoil that.’

  He just stared at her. ‘But don’t you see? It has spoilt it.’ He rose from the daybed.

  Cora sprang to her own defence. ‘You haven’t even asked me why. It wasn’t something I did willingly, I can assure you!’

  But he was walking to the door. He opened it and turned towards her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, then he walked out of her room.

  Cora burst into tears.

  When there were no tears left to shed, she left her bedsit and walked to the nearest phone box and rang Belle. When her friend answered, Cora broke down again and between sobs managed to tell her what had happened.

  ‘Oh, Cora, love, I’m so sorry.’ She was really upset because she knew how important Simon was to her and there was nothing she could do to change the situation.

  ‘Can you take a few days off and come over here? A change of scenery will do you good and we can talk and try and sort out this mess. If Simon really loves you, he’ll come back.’

  Wiping her nose and sniffing, Cora said, ‘I doubt that, Belle. You should have seen the look on his face when he left me. I’m not sure he’ll ever get over it.’

  ‘You’ll just have to wait and hope, love. I’ll get a room ready for you. Come over tomorrow. I’ll see you then.’

  She sat down and considered the situation. There was never a way to escape your past. Somehow, somewhere it came back to bite you. Always at the wrong moment. For women like her and Cora, it was a millstone they had to carry all of their lives.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Whilst Cora was trying to run away from her past, Hildy was planning her future. The first ship of GI brides was due to sail for New York in January and she had a berth booked. She’d had a medical, filled in pages of forms, showed her marriage certificate as proof and started to gather her things. In two months’ time, she’d leave these shores for ever.

  Her only problem was her mother. After Olive’s stay on the Isle of Wight with Belle and now fully recovered from her operation, Hildy had taken Belle’s advice and stayed away from her for a while, once she was convinced that she was well enough to look after herself.

  Olive had found a new job in a Lipton’s grocery store which she felt was much more fitting than scrubbing pub floors. She had managed to find another lodger, an older man, returned from the war and working in a local garage as a mechanic. He was quiet and kept himself to himself which suited Olive very well. Through judicious questioning of Olive’s neighbour, Hildy had gleaned these facts and therefore had felt free once again, but now, she felt she ought to make an effort before she eventually sailed away. She was unsure how to go about it, knowing her mother’s possessive nature. She didn’t want to leave with any animosity between them and to this end, on Sunday morning she went to her old home and, holding her breath, knocked on the door.

  Olive opened it and was taken aback when she saw Hildy standing there.

  ‘Hello Mum. Just thought I’d pop in and see how you are.’

  ‘Did you? You couldn’t have been too concerned. It’s been three months since I’ve been home and I’ve not seen much of you lately, but I suppose you’d better come in.’ She wal
ked away.

  Hildy’s heart sank. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she felt she had to try.

  ‘I thought we might have a cup of tea and a chat, that’s all. You know, catch up.’

  Olive looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘Really, how nice of you.’ But nevertheless, she filled the kettle and put out two cups and saucers. ‘Better sit down then.’

  ‘You’re looking well,’ Hildy ventured.

  ‘I’m alright considering I have to manage alone.’

  Hildy ignored the remark. ‘I heard you were working at Lipton’s,’ she said.

  Olive glared at her. ‘Has that mouthy woman next door been talking to you?’

  ‘We bumped into each other in the street,’ Hildy said. ‘I was pleased to hear it.’

  ‘Did she tell you I had a lodger too? Don’t answer, of course she did. She’s more interested in other people’s lives than her own.’

  She made the tea, poured two cups and pushed Hildy’s over to her. ‘So, what’s the real reason for you calling today? It wasn’t just for an idle chat, was it?’

  There was no reason to lie so looking at her mother, Hildy said, ‘I wanted to say goodbye really. I’m sailing to America in January.’

  Olive’s mouth tightened and she glared at her daughter. ‘Going out to live with that man, well I wish you luck!’ It was said with such venom that Hildy snapped back.

  ‘That man is Milt, my husband and yes, I’m off to start my married life. And what’s more, I can hardly wait.’

  ‘Well, don’t come running back to me when it all goes wrong that’s all!’

  Hildy calmed down. What was the point, it was exactly how she thought it would be. Olive was as vindictive as ever.

  ‘You know, Mother, “that man” as you insist on calling him once told me he felt sorry for you.’ She saw the surprise on Olive’s face. ‘Yes, he did. When I asked why, he said because you were such a bitter woman that you had missed so much happiness in life that he felt sorry for you.’