The Factory Girls of Lark Lane: A heartbreaking World War 2 historical novel of loss and love

by Howes, Pam

  As she leant Cathy forward to wind her, Alice couldn’t wait for tonight to come round. With a bit of luck she might get forty winks when Cathy took her afternoon nap and before she got ready to go out. Granny Lomax had told her it would do her good to get out with young people and that she’d be more than happy to look after Cathy, who’d be in bed anyway. The Legion, on Ullet Road, was only a short distance, so they could easily walk it. Millie would knock on for her at seven.

  Alice checked her appearance in the full-length mirror in Granny Lomax’s bedroom. She smoothed down the skirt of her blue floral button-through dress and slipped on the smart jacket that was half of the suit she’d worn on her wedding day. The blue was a perfect match for the flowers in the dress as well as her eyes. Granny Lomax had made her go and see Millie’s mam this morning to get her hair washed and trimmed and it looked so much fresher than when she’d got up in the middle of the night. Millie’s mam had worked her usual magic and the gentle waves fanned her cheeks, while the back swung gently. With a dusting of face powder, a touch of rouge and a slick of Tangee lipstick, Alice felt almost human again for the first time in weeks. She crept into the bedroom she shared with Cathy and collected her handbag. Cathy was asleep, flat on her back with her arms flung either side of her head. She’d kicked off the sheet and blankets and Alice pulled them back again, holding her breath as her daughter mumbled and quietly cried out. She settled again and Alice left the room, not even daring to stroke her sweaty little head, closing the door behind her. She went to join her mother-in-law, who was knitting a pink cardigan for Cathy and listening to the evening news on the wireless.

  ‘You look lovely, Alice. Did you manage to pair up some stockings from the few we have left between us?’

  ‘I did.’ Alice held out a slender leg for inspection. ‘And thank you for baby-sitting. She’s flat out so hopefully she won’t be any bother.’

  ‘My pleasure. I love looking after her, you know that. You can go out any time you like. A break will do you good.’

  The sound of the gate opening had Alice rushing to the door before Millie rattled the letterbox.

  ‘Were you nosying out the window?’ Millie asked as Alice flung open the door.

  ‘We heard the gate squeaking. Just don’t want Madam to wake up before I get out. Come on in for a minute.’

  ‘Evening, Mrs Lomax,’ Millie greeted her, following Alice into the sitting room. ‘Oh, that’s a pretty shade of pink.’

  ‘Thank you, dear, and good evening to you too.’ She held up her knitting for Millie’s inspection. ‘It’s a little cardigan for Cathy, for springtime. I shall make her a nice bonnet to go with it.’

  ‘Lovely.’ Millie smiled politely and looked at Alice. ‘Are we ready for off then?’

  ‘We are. We’ll be back around eleven thirty, I would think,’ Alice said. ‘Is that okay?’

  ‘Might be a bit too early for the dance to finish,’ Granny Lomax said. ‘Just come home when you’re ready. I’ll be in bed anyway, as long as Madam stays asleep, so creep in quietly. Now off you go and enjoy yourselves.’

  Alice bagged a table in the Legion and Millie sidled self-consciously over to the bar. Neither was used to getting their own drinks, but times were changing and the place was filling up with women who would all soon be queuing for their drinks too. So far there was just one man in the place and he was busy at the other end of the room, moving tables around to suit a party that wanted to sit together. Alice noticed that he had a limp and she wondered if he was one of the soldiers the dance was being held for. He turned and caught her staring at him. He winked, blue eyes twinkling, and raised his hand as she blushed furiously and pushed her gloves into her coat pocket. Cheeky devil; she was a married woman. But then again, he wouldn’t know that, she told herself. He grinned, ran his hands through his dark hair and carried on moving

  furniture as she took another quick peep from under her fringe.

  Millie arrived back with two tall schooners of sherry and put them on the table. She took off her coat, draped it over the back of a chair and sat down.

  ‘Cheers.’ She picked up her drink and held it out towards Alice, who did likewise, and they clinked glasses. ‘You look a bit flushed, what’s up?’

  Alice nodded her head in the direction of the man who’d winked. ‘Him over there. He waved, and winked at me.’

  ‘Probably just being friendly,’ Millie said, watching the man limp across to a group of soldiers who were just coming into the room; some of them were on crutches and others in wheelchairs with bandages covering various body parts, including heads and hands. ‘Oh, it’s Jack Dawson, he’s a local lad. Alan knows him. He’s a soldier, or he was. He got injured before his platoon even left the country. He was accidentally shot in the foot on a training exercise. I see he’s still limping quite badly. It’s okay to be friendly with other men, Alice, especially in circumstances like now. Some of those poor boys will be miles away from home and may need a friendly face to chat to.’

  Alice nodded as she and Millie were joined by several girls from their team at Rootes. Another schooner of sherry and they were all up on the dance floor, taking turns to be the male or female lead. A couple of the young soldiers, arms in slings, joined them and did the best they could to partner first one girl and then another, but the majority, in wheelchairs or on crutches, cheered on their comrades who’d ventured up to dance.

  ‘They’re a good band,’ Millie puffed, stopping to take a breath from attempting a jitterbug with a smiling young man who had one arm in a sling.

  ‘Very good,’ Alice said, laughing at Millie’s red face. ‘I’m sitting down for a minute. I’m out of breath.’

  She made her way back to her seat, fanning her warm face with her hand.

  ‘You okay?’ the man called Jack Dawson asked as he collected empty glasses from the table.

  ‘Oh, yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just a bit tired. I’ve got a teething baby at home who doesn’t seem to know day from night at the moment.’

  He laughed. ‘Rather you than me. You married then?’

  ‘Yes. I’m married to Terry Lomax. He’s a soldier stationed abroad, unfortunately.’

  ‘Think I know him. Mate of a mate of mine. Alan. In fact, that’s Alan’s girl on the floor with one of our lads. Maureen, Molly?’

  ‘Millie. Yes, she’s Alan’s girlfriend,’ Alice replied, thinking, Not that you’d know it.

  ‘How is Al? Not heard from him for ages.’

  ‘Fine, as far as we know.’

  ‘And your Terry? Is he okay? He used to have a motorbike if I remember rightly. A Harley-Davidson.’

  ‘He’s as okay as he can be, under the circumstances. He still has the bike; it’s in his mother’s garage.’

  ‘Remember me to him next time you write. Dawson’s the name, Jack. I lost half my right foot before we even got sent abroad, so I’m out of it for now. I do my bit, helping with the lads at the nursing home to keep their spirits up and giving a hand to the manager here at the Legion. Keeps me out of mischief.’

  Alice nodded and smiled politely as he made his way back to the bar with the empty glasses. She’d noticed a long scar on Jack’s right cheek and wondered if that was something to do with him being injured as well, but hadn’t liked to ask.

  Millie flopped down beside her. ‘Phew. He might have his arm in a sling but Charlie can certainly move.’

  ‘I noticed.’ Alice laughed. ‘Seems a nice lad.’

  ‘He is. Got a girl at home in Wales though. And he’s going back there as soon as his arm and shoulder are recovered.’

  ‘Well you’ve got Alan and Jimmy in tow! That Jack fella just asked after Alan. Seems he knows Terry too.’

  ‘Ah, well there you go. He’s harmless enough, I think.’

  ‘How did he get that scar on his face?’

  Millie frowned. ‘I seem to remember there was a fight among a few of Alan’s mates a year or so ago, before the war started anyway. Jack was trying to get off with one of
the lads’ girls and he got his face slashed. Why they can’t just fight with fists is beyond me. It was wrong of him to flirt with the girl, but she was leading him on, and he’s the one who ends up with the injury.’

  ‘Bit of a ladies’ man then, is he?’

  Millie laughed. ‘So they say. I don’t really know that much about him, to be honest, but he seems nice enough.’

  They were joined by the other girls and pooled together what bit of money they had for another round of drinks.

  Millie and one of the others went across to the bar and the tray of drinks was carried over to the table by Jack, who winked at Alice as he placed the tray down.

  ‘Couldn’t trust these two not to spill the lot,’ he teased. ‘Bit too tiddly for their own good, if you ask me. I’ll be doing the raffle draw in a few minutes. Hope you’ve all got your tickets, ladies.’

  Alice rooted in her bag for the raffle tickets she’d bought at the door as they came in. She watched as Jack went up on stage and called out the winning numbers as they were picked from a wooden drum that he turned with a handle. To her delight, one of her numbers came out and she was presented with a box of scented bath cubes and a handshake from Jack, and cheers from the girls at her table.

  As she walked back from the stage she spotted a postcard pinned to one of the pillars that supported the bar. The Legion was advertising for bar staff and occasional help with functions, including wedding buffets and christening teas. Interested parties were to enquire with the steward for further details. Alice chewed her lip. If Millie left Rootes she didn’t want to return, but she needed to work. The Legion was so handy in that it was less than five minutes’ walk away, and most of the work would be in the evenings when Cathy was sleeping, or in the afternoons at weekends for weddings and christenings. The shifts certainly wouldn’t be anywhere near as long as those at Rootes. It was worth thinking about, at least. She’d have a chat with Millie on the way home, see what she thought. Maybe she could do part-time at Rootes and the Legion job as well. The money would come in handy and she could get some savings in the bank for when Terry arrived home, ready for their own little place.

  13

  April 1942

  Alice held back tears as she joined Millie’s parents on the platform at Aigburth station. It was the Saturday morning following Easter and Millie was off to a farm in Cumbria in the Lake District. It was a long journey and her mam had done her a pack-up and a flask to take with her. Two other young girls who Alice knew vaguely were also going to the same farm, so Millie wouldn’t be entirely alone with strangers. She was going to miss her terribly; they’d been best friends since primary school. Damn this bloody war, robbing her of most of the people she loved.

  ‘Write to me as soon as you get there,’ Alice begged. ‘And if it’s really horrible, you must come home. Be careful around the cows.’

  Millie smiled. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll miss you and my little god-daughter.’ She kissed a wriggling Cathy in Alice’s arms and gave them a group hug.

  ‘Please look after yourself.’ Alice choked on her words.

  ‘Come on, gel, you’d best get on,’ Millie’s dad said, picking up her suitcase from the platform and placing it in the nearest doorway on the train. ‘Give your mam a hug now. Write as soon as you can.’

  ‘Don’t forget to forward any letters from Jimmy or Alan to that address I’ve given you,’ Millie said, giving her mam a big hug.

  ‘I promise. Now come on, that guard’s looking a bit anxious. You’re last to get on. He’ll be waving his flag and you’ll miss it.’

  Millie jumped on board, retrieving her case and waving frantically as the guard blew his whistle and waved his flag and the train puffed out of the station. Alice burst into tears. Millie’s mam took Cathy from her and carried her out to the waiting car. Millie’s dad took Alice’s arm and they walked slowly out onto the station approach.

  ‘We’ll all miss her, chuck. But she’ll be back before you know it,’ he said, patting Alice’s hand. ‘There was no talking her out of it, but I can’t see her lasting five minutes in all that muck and mud, and we all know how much she hates cows; she’s not that keen on sheep or horses either. Don’t know what she was thinking of. Our Millie was never one for getting her hands dirty. She was told they’ve got evacuees at the farm, so maybe she’ll take a turn at looking after them. We’ll see. Come on now; let’s get you and that little ’un back to your ma-in-law’s.’

  Alice pushed the pram with her sleeping daughter round to her mam’s house. After parking Cathy in the small front garden she let herself in and called out that it was only her. No reply. She frowned. Mam was usually in on a Saturday afternoon and there was no sign of Brian either. She went through to the back sitting room. The place was clean and tidy, in spite of her brother’s shoes and school satchel on the floor and a pile of comics and exercise books on the table. Damn, she needed to check with Mam which mornings she could have Cathy next week as she was starting back on the early shift at Rootes. She made a mug of tea and carried it through to sit on the sofa.

  She didn’t have too long to wait as Mam arrived home a few minutes later armed with a string bag of potatoes, a swede, carrots and a single onion. She carried another bag from which wool poked out of the top, black and navy wool – for soldiers’ socks, no doubt.

  Alice poured her mam a cuppa and Mam produced a packet of Arrowroot biscuits from the depths of the wool bag.

  ‘Are you okay, Mam?’

  ‘Not bad, love. Just been to pick up my supplies from the church hall for sock-making. One of the ladies had the bright idea of unpicking old jumpers and winding the wool into hanks around the back of a dining chair. Then she washes them and lets them drip on the line. Goes nice and straight then so we can roll it into balls. Finish your tea and I’ll use your hands, then I can make a start on a pair of socks tonight. Our Brian always seems to get the wool in a tangle when I ask him to help.’

  Alice swigged the rest of her tea and held her arms out. Mam looped a hank of wool around each hand and proceeded to make a ball.

  ‘Might as well as get as much as we can done before Cathy wakes up for a feed.’

  ‘Where is our Brian?’ Alice asked, flexing her fingers as Mam wound the wool.

  ‘He’s at the church hall. I left him there and he’ll come home with his mate Alfie who’s coming for his tea. That’s what the veg is for, a pan of blind scouse for them. They’ve started a bit of a lads’ club. Brian wants to learn to box. I’ve given him your dad’s old gloves. I’ve had them lying around doing nothing all this time, so he might as well get some use from them. They’re a bit big but the trainer said once his hands are bandaged they’ll fit better. They’ll have to do for now, because I can’t afford to buy any new ones. It’ll give him something to do and it’s a bit of exercise too. He’s lost some of the weight he gained in Wales, but he’s still a bit too chubby for my liking.’

  Alice smiled. ‘It’s only puppy fat, he’ll lose it eventually. Anyway, Mam, are you okay to have Cathy on Monday for me going back to work?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I can do Wednesday as well but I’m working the rest of the week.’

  ‘That’s fine, Mam. Terry’s mam will do any days you can’t do. I’ll be here about half seven with her though. I know it’s ridiculously early, but eight till one is the only shift they could give me.’

  ‘And are you going to still do the Legion shifts at the weekend? It’ll be a lot for you love, you’ll be shattered.’

  Alice nodded. She’d taken the bull by the horns and had approached the steward of the Legion the day after the soldiers’ dance and asked about the job vacancy. He’d taken her on immediately and she’d done two weekends now and was working tonight. So far there had been no weddings or christenings but she had made it clear that she was available to work the extra time if any bookings came in.

  She’d enjoyed herself, and Jack Dawson had seemed pleased to see her. He’d taken her under his wing, and had shown her how to p
ull a pint in the correct way to avoid a large head, and how to do an accurate measure of spirits. He’d also walked her to the gate of the bungalow on Linnet Lane when their shifts had finished. She’d been secretly dreading walking home alone in the blackout, although it was only a very short walk, as there was not a chink of light to be seen anywhere, so she felt safer with Jack limping along beside her. Less likelihood of a lurking German spy waiting to jump out at her if she was accompanied. Although she hadn’t actually heard of that happening to anyone yet, there was always a first time. Alice knew she had an overactive imagination but, then again, enemy planes had been shot down in the area. For all they knew, Germans could have parachuted to safety and be hiding anywhere. Jack had lodgings in a house on Parkfield Road, nor far from Lark Lane, so it was on his way home.

  ‘I’m keeping the bar job on, Mam. It’s better for me to do two jobs like this and then I get to spend the afternoons and weekday evenings with Cathy. Sunday isn’t a late night so I’m okay for getting up early on Monday. I need the money to save up. I’d like to find a little house or flat and have it all ready for when Terry comes home. Living with his mam is lovely, just the two of us and Cathy, but it’ll be too crowded with Terry there as well. We’ll have no privacy.’ She blushed as she realised what she was implying.

  But her mam seemed to understand and smiled as she finished winding the hank of wool and freed Alice’s hands.

  Alice got to her feet. ‘I’d better get back and then I can see to Cathy’s tea and bath and get ready for tonight’s shift. I’ll see you on Monday morning. Say hello to our Brian and tell him I’m sorry I missed him.’

  She gave her mam a hug and set off back to Linnet Lane with a still-slumbering Cathy. As she rounded the corner someone called her name and she whipped around, frowning. Millie was running behind her, dragging a case and waving frantically.