The Factory Girls of Lark Lane: A heartbreaking World War 2 historical novel of loss and love
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As he left Alice looked around the office and spotted a fluffy black cardigan draped over the back of the chair. She picked it up and popped it around her shoulders. It smelled of Soir de Paris perfume and would help keep her warm for a while. Gloria, the office girl it belonged to, was similar in size and Alice didn’t think she’d mind an unauthorised borrowing of her garment in a time of need.
Freddie came back with two steaming mugs. He handed one to Alice and perched himself on the corner of the desk with the other. He looked up at the wall clock and nodded.
‘Ten minutes and they’ll start rolling in. I believe one of the girls is the cousin of young Avril who set off that explosion upstairs. Let’s hope she’s got a bit more nous about her than she had, eh?’
‘How is Avril doing?’ Alice sat on the chair behind the desk and wrapped her hands around the mug of tea.
‘Not great. But she’s at home with her mother now, so it’s much better for her than being in the institution. She has to have a lot of help with having no hands. I don’t suppose she’ll ever work again, poor kid.’
Alice sighed. ‘But at least she’s still alive.’
‘Aye. Poor Josie.’
They finished their tea in thoughtful silence and then Freddie jumped to his feet. ‘Right, gel, let’s get on with it.’
The morning flew by as Alice called in the applicants one by one and took down their details. As she showed the final girl in to Freddie and went back to her own office, she thought that, given a chance, she might take to office work quite easily once the war was over. Maybe even do something in a hospital, reception work perhaps. But when Freddie came in later with a list of the successful applicants and asked her to type up letters to go out in that night’s post, Alice quickly changed her mind. Although she’d had a few typing lessons in school, she had to do the letters with one finger and it took her ages. She decided it was easier to rivet plane wings and pull pints. But at least it had made a nice enough change and added a bit of variety to her working day, and it would be something new to tell Granny and Brian when she arrived home.
Easter Sunday, near the end of April, dawned bright and sunny and Alice, Granny Lomax, Brian and Cathy made their way to St Michael’s Church for the morning service. Brian was clutching a bunch of daffodils he’d grown himself to put on their dad’s grave.
The church was packed and it was heartening to see people dressed in bright spring clothes. As they took a pew down near the front, Alice straightened the ribbons on Cathy’s straw bonnet and wiped her nose. They were meeting up with Sadie and Gianni later in Sefton Park for a stroll and a teatime picnic before it got dark.
Granny Lomax had left a small chicken in the oven to roast while they were out. Although there had been no Easter chocolate eggs in the shops to buy, Millie had sent a parcel of chocolate treats for the children, who this morning had excitedly unwrapped the package that had been hidden away from prying eyes for the last few days. There was a letter for Alice too, telling her the Yanks the band had entertained had been more than generous again and helped her put the parcel together. Alice was as thrilled as Brian and Cathy with their treats to receive a box of chocolates tied up with yellow ribbon to share with her mother-in-law. There would be few families as lucky as theirs on Merseyside today.
After the service, followed by tea and Easter biscuits in the church hall, Brian laid his flowers on their dad’s grave. Alice wiped away a tear and said a silent prayer for Dad and Rodney, whose name was now engraved in gold lettering on the headstone. She blew them a kiss as they left to walk home.
‘Any more, Brian?’ Alice held out a roast potato and her brother nodded. ‘Might as well, it’s the last one,’ she said. ‘Well, that was a lovely dinner and those tiny carrots were just perfect.’
Brian beamed. Granny Lomax had told him they were too small to harvest yet, but he’d been determined that they would have at least some of his crop for dinner.
‘My like baby carrots,’ Cathy said, swiping her hand across her chin where gravy had dribbled. Alice leapt up and wiped it away before it dripped onto her clean dress.
‘Are we ready for some rhubarb crumble then?’ Granny got to her feet and helped Alice to clear the table.
‘Yes please,’ Cathy shouted after them. ‘Wiv custard.’
‘Cut a bit of that left-over chicken up to put on sandwiches to take to the park,’ Granny said. ‘And there’s a few scones in the tin, plain though, no fruit, as you know. But sliced and buttered with a bit of jam on, the kids will enjoy them.’
Alice filled the sink with hot soapy water and put the plates and cutlery in to soak. ‘Are you coming with us to the park?’ she asked as she got the bread out of the breadbin.
‘No, love, I’m going to sit with my feet up and read the paper,’ Granny replied, dishing up the crumble. ‘You and Sadie have some catching up to do and Brian can keep his eye on the little ones. I’ll probably have forty winks as well while it’s peaceful.’
After a stroll around the crowded boating lake, and while their mothers relaxed on a grassy mound, enjoying the sunshine, Gianni chased after Cathy with a wriggling worm in his hands. She screamed at the top of her voice as he giggled helplessly.
‘Gianni, put it down and come here,’ Sadie ordered. ‘No ice-cream for you later if you don’t stop that.’
Gianni stuck his bottom lip out and threw the poor worm into a nearby flower bed.
Cathy ran over to Alice and dropped down beside her. ‘Naughty Gianni,’ she cried. ‘No like worms.’
‘I’m sorry, Cathy, he’s a little monkey,’ Sadie said with a sigh. ‘Typical boy, always up to mischief lately.’
Alice laughed. ‘I remember Brian being fascinated with worms and daddy-long-legs when he was little. And our Rodney once put a spider in my bed when I was about ten. I screamed the house down. Dad didn’t half clobber him for it. He was always into mischief too, until he grew up and discovered girls. Poor Rod, he’d only just found his feet with life when he was called up.’
‘Yes, it’s very sad,’ Sadie said, grabbing Gianni by the arm. ‘So many lost, before their lives began properly. We need to go and wash your hands, Gianni, and then we can eat our picnic. I’ll nip in the toilets with him,’ she said to Alice.
‘Give Brian a shout as you go past,’ Alice said. Brian was over near the Palm House talking to some boys he used to go to school with. She looked across to the bandstand. ‘The brass band are setting up as well, so we can go and watch them later and you can have a little dance, Cathy. How about that?’ she finished as Cathy nodded and smiled, the worm incident quickly forgotten.
Alice set the picnic out on a checked cloth that she pulled from her bag and by the time everyone was back she’d poured tea from the flask for her and Sadie and orange juice for the youngsters.
‘Now sit down and eat up and then we’ll have ice-cream and go and watch the band. Millie’s dad might be playing today. Fingers crossed there’s no air raids tonight,’ she whispered to Sadie, glancing up at the sky as two military planes flew over. ‘We deserve a peaceful Easter.’
23
July 1943
On a Saturday morning in early July, Alice had just turned over for another five minutes’ snooze, relishing the feeling of not getting up to rush for the Rootes bus, when a hammering on the bedroom door pulled her back to consciousness.
‘Alice, Alice. Wake up. It’s come. I’ve passed,’ Brian called out.
Forcing her eyes to focus, Alice slid out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and opened the door a fraction, slipping out into the hallway before Cathy woke up.
‘What is it?’ she asked, bleary-eyed, as he waved a sheet of paper in front of her face.
‘I’ve passed the eleven plus,’ he yelled excitedly. ‘I can go to grammar school in September.’
‘Oh, well done, love.’ Alice hugged her brother, tears streaming down her face. ‘I’m so proud of you, Brian.’
Granny Lomax came out of her room. ‘What’s all the
noise about?’
‘He’s only gone and passed his eleven plus,’ Alice said, choking on her words. ‘This is all thanks to you for taking the time to teach him well.’
‘Nonsense,’ Granny said, beaming from ear to ear. ‘It’s all down to the genius that is our Brian. Well done, young man. I’m thrilled to bits for you.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Brian said, waving the letter in the air. ‘I’m going to grammar school.’
‘We’ll need to think about getting your uniform sorted out,’ Granny Lomax said. ‘Let’s hope there are places open that will have them in stock.’
‘There’s a list with this letter,’ Brian said. ‘It tells you all the things I need and where to get them.’
‘At a cost I’ll bet, but we’ll manage. You’re not losing that place, you’ve worked hard for it. Right, well I think this calls for a nice celebration breakfast, don’t you?’ Granny said. ‘Good job our chickens laid well this week. Scrambled eggs on toast all round. Come on Brian, let’s get cracking while Alice sorts little Madam out. I can hear her shouting Mammy.’
Alice hurried back into the bedroom as Brian followed her mother-in-law down the hallway to the kitchen.
Cathy was hanging out of her cot, one leg dangling over the side. She’d need to buy a bed soon or she’d be climbing out properly and hurting herself, little monkey that she was, Alice thought as she lifted her wriggling daughter down. She took Cathy into the bathroom and washed and dressed her. Alice sighed. Brian’s uniform would cost a fair bit, never mind a new bed for Cathy. It was never-ending and she was finding it harder to save as the months went by. The overtime at Rootes had slowed down a bit now the new full-time staff had been taken on. Her plans to have enough put away by the time Terry arrived home were not going too well as every few weeks one or other of the children needed shoes or something else. By the time she’d paid her way here with bills and food, a few shillings into the Lloyd George insurance scheme in case they needed to see a doctor and her bus or tram fares home from work each day, there wasn’t much left. Her Legion job was the only real spare money she had and she tried to put at least half of it into the post office account each week.
The cost of going to see Mam over at Rainhill Hospital every Sunday was expensive too, and even if Arnold let Jack take her in his car, there was still petrol to pay for. It wasn’t fair to let that cost go to either Jack or Arnold; Alice insisted on paying her share. The responsibility of caring for two young children, even with the help of Granny Lomax, was overwhelming at times and Alice always had the worry hanging over her that, if anything happened to Terry, this was how her life would be forever, or anyway until Brian grew up and could stand on his own two feet. It was a daunting prospect and at not even twenty-one until November, Alice wondered how she’d continue to cope if this war went on for much longer.
If only Mam could get better and come home, she would be over the moon for Brian and his good news. But it wasn’t to be. There was no getting better from her condition. The hospital doctors had made that quite clear. The family home on Lucerne Street was falling into a state of disrepair. Alice checked on it regularly when she went to the shops on Lark Lane, but it needed money spending on it to fix the roof where several slates had slipped and rain had poured in, damaging the ceilings. A broken downstairs window had been boarded up by the kindly neighbours, who did their best to keep an eye on the place. They could do with selling it really now there was no chance of Mam ever coming home, but she was in no fit state of mind to sign any papers and while she was still alive Alice had no power to do anything. Granny Lomax had made enquiries with her own solicitor about the matter, and he had told her that Mam would have needed to give something called power of attorney to Alice while her mind was still sound.
This year had passed in much the same vein as the last three. Air raid warnings were slightly less frequent than they’d been during the Blitz, but they still happened on an all too regular basis and continued to put the fear of God in everyone. Shortages in food and all but the most important essentials were ongoing; repairs to damaged buildings seemed to be a waste of time when bombs were still dropping, but the city was doing its best to pull together.
Alice and Sadie had become good friends and Sadie often popped round with Gianni to play with Cathy. The two children nearly always got on well together and Cathy didn’t even seem to mind sharing her bricks with the dark-haired, dark-eyed little boy, who, Sadie said, was the image of his Italian father. Letters from abroad were still infrequent, although Alice had been amazed that a birthday card for Cathy had made it through from Terry last week along with a letter. Millie wrote as often as she could and her letters were always cheerful and a joy to read. She was due back in Liverpool in August, so would be here for her god-daughter’s birthday, and was looking forward to seeing them all again. The band was booked to play at the Legion again on the Saturday night; something for Alice to look forward to.
Cathy’s second birthday on the twenty-ninth was celebrated in the garden on a sunny Sunday August afternoon with her granny, Uncle Brian, Sadie and Gianni and her godparents, Millie, Freddie and Marlene, in attendance. Dressed in a hand-smocked pink and white gingham dress made by Granny Lomax, her dark hair now falling into ringlets with a bit of careful coaxing, Cathy made a pretty picture and posed happily for Freddie and his box camera as he took photos of her. Her little friend, Gianni, held her hand as they stood side by side in front of the neat border of rose bushes.
‘I’ll get them developed next week and you can send some to your Terry,’ Freddie told Alice. ‘She’s making a right pretty little thing, isn’t she? He’ll be that proud; I know I am and I’m only her godfather.’
‘You’re the best she’s got though, Freddie.’ Alice said. ‘I couldn’t have wished for a better one for her.’
‘Thank you.’ Freddie’s eyes looked moist as he turned to Brian. ‘And what about you, young fella? Passing that eleven plus, eh? Clever lad. What school will you be going to?’
Brian’s cheeks flushed and his blue eyes danced with excitement. He drew himself up to his full height of just over five foot. He’d slimmed down with the exercise he got at his boxing lessons and had recently joined a cross-country running club also held at the church hall.
‘I’ve won a place at the Liverpool Institute for Boys,’ he said proudly. ‘I start the second week of September and I’ll be nearly twelve by then.’
‘Smashing. Good school, that. You’ll do well there. Bet Alice is real proud of you, son.’
‘I am,’ Alice said. ‘I just hope he can find his way to and from the city without getting lost.’
‘The tram goes straight past it. Get on it at Aigburth Road and stay on until the conductor shouts “Institute”,’ Freddie said. ‘He can’t go wrong.’
‘Famous last words,’ Granny said, raising an eyebrow. ‘He’s not used to doing trams on his own. We can do a dummy run next week, Brian. We’ll have to take Cathy with us because Alice will be going to work, but we’ll treat ourselves to a walk around the city afterwards, what’s left of it, and have tea and toast in the Kardomah as a special treat.’
Brian nodded. ‘Sounds like a good plan to me. Can we go to the docks and see what’s happening down there?’
‘We can. Right, now that’s all sorted you can help me to carry out the party food and we’ll settle on the lawn for a picnic.’
Seated on the grass beside Alice, Millie nudged her with an elbow. Alice followed her gaze and saw her daughter open her mouth as Gianni smiled and offered her a bite of his apple.
‘Adam and Eve,’ Millie said with a grin. ‘Aren’t they sweet together? True love, if you ask me.’
Alice laughed. ‘Give them time. They’re only babies and only the other week he was scaring her half to death by chasing after her with a wriggly worm!’
‘Even so, he’s giving her the look of love now, wouldn’t you say?’
Alice nodded. ‘But wasn’t it the other way round? Eve gave Ad
am the apple.’
‘Ah, maybe. I never quite got that right,’ Millie said, smiling at the little ones, who were oblivious to everyone else as they shared the apple. ‘Whatever, Gianni seems smitten and very protective right now. Just how a man should be.’
‘You’re fanciful; I’ll give you that, Millie,’ Alice said. ‘They’ll probably fight like cat and dog when they go to school.’
In mid-September, two weeks after Brian had started at his new school, Jack drove Alice to Rainhill to see her mam. Brian had refused to come with them as the last time he’d visited he’d been frightened by the wailing and moaning coming from some of the other patients. Alice phoned the hospital on Saturday morning, her regular time for checking on Mam’s welfare. The nurse who answered told Alice that her mam had been transferred within the hospital to a unit for patients with breathing problems. Mam had developed a severe chest infection and needed oxygen to help her breathe. Alice felt worried. She’d been unable to concentrate on her job last night and Winnie had taken her upstairs for a cuppa and a chat. Arnold and Jack had managed the bar between them and Arnold had suggested Jack take Alice to visit today.
‘Did you manage to get any sleep?’ Jack asked as he drove out of Linnet Lane and onto Aigburth Road.
‘Not much,’ Alice admitted. ‘I can’t stop worrying. Mam’s never been a strong woman, but until Rodney died she was making an effort to pull herself together and get on with things. She just went downhill from that day.’