by Annie Groves
All three of them were shivering when they finally reached Lewis’s. The store was already busy with Saturday shoppers seeking warmth. In the cosmetics department the shelves were already half empty.
‘It’s all right for you,’ June proclaimed to Molly. ‘Your Eddie will be able to bring you back stuff from America … Ooh, Molly … I feel ever so funny,’ she added, suddenly turning white as a sheet. ‘I think I need to sit down.’
Quickly Molly and Sally took hold of her, guiding her to a nearby chair.
‘It’s the shock of her Frank going,’ Sally told Molly knowledgeably. ‘Same thing happened to me the first time I saw my Ronnie in his uniform. Takes yer by the throat, it does … You feeling all right now, June?’
‘I feel ever so sickly,’ June admitted. ‘Perhaps we better not have that cup of tea after all …’
Molly hummed happily along with the wireless as she sewed. Mr Harding had put the wireless in the factory because he had heard that listening to music helped to increase productivity, specially of women workers.
Eddie’s ship was due to arrive back at Garston Dock tomorrow, and finally, after the frighteningly severe frost and heavy snow that had hit the country the previous week, the weather had started to turn a little bit milder.
It felt like a lifetime since she had waved goodbye to Eddie, and Molly was aching to see him. Sometimes, without her diamond ring to remind her, she suspected she might wonder if she had only dreamed those few precious happy days they had had together.
‘Anyone fancy coming to the pictures wi’ me tonight? They’ve got a new film on so I’ve heard,’ Irene shouted above the sound of Vera Lynn singing.
‘I’ll come with you, if you like,’ Molly shouted back, giving the girl next to her a nudge and telling her, ‘Go on, Jean, you come as well. You deserve a bit of a treat.’
Jean’s mother had taken sick just before Christmas and, as well as having to work, Jean had had to nurse her and to take charge of the house, and look after her father and two younger brothers. Elsie had told Molly that she had sent Jim round to Jean’s with some of her quince jelly for the invalid and a bottle of her elderberry wine.
‘Oh, if you’re coming wi’ us, Molly, I suppose it’ll have to be the three-and-sixes, wi’ you wearing that posh ring,’ Irene joked, referring to the most expensive seats in the house.
Molly took her teasing in good part, saying chirpily, ‘Oh, I don’t mind slumming it, Irene, and sittin’ in the one-and-threes … Oh, I’ve just remembered, I can’t go. It’s WVS.’
‘Well, one thing’s for sure,’ June broke in morosely, ‘none of us would have bin wanting to sit in the back row with our lads all away.’
‘You wouldn’t catch me sittin’ there wi’ my Algy, anyway,’ one of the new girls Mr Harding had taken on to cope with the extra work announced cheekily. ‘Not with the way them hands of ’is are all over the place like he were an octopus or sommat.’
Irene gave a disapproving sniff. ‘Well, I say that it’s up to a girl to make sure her lad behaves his-self as he should.’
‘Aye, well, there’s plenty o’ lasses who are that feared they might never see their lads again that they haven’t the heart to say no to them when there’s a war on,’ someone else joined in frankly.
Molly remembered how difficult she had found it to resist Eddie before he left to go back to sea. Before the war, she would have been appalled to hear of girls sleeping with their men before they were married, let alone consider it herself, but wartime had made everything feel different.
‘Do you want to stop off at your Frank’s mam’s on our way home?’ Molly asked June later, as they walked home together in the darkness of the winter evening. ‘We didn’t get a chance to last night, and you only had things for overnight.’
‘If we must,’ June replied miserably.
‘Dad said this morning that he’d see if he could get her a bit of extra coal,’ Molly reminded her sister, ‘seeing as how she’s family now.’
‘Huh, well, you wouldn’t think so sometimes from the way she treats me.’
‘I reckon she’d be better with you if you went round a bit more often,’ Molly told her, trying to be as tactful as she could, as she added, ‘She’ll have seen you going round to Sally’s and she only lives a couple of doors down.’
‘And what if she has?’ June sniffed. ‘That’s my business.’
‘But with Frank away, she’s on her own,’ Molly mumbled.
‘If you’re trying to say that I should bend over backwards to please that old cow—’ June began sharply.
‘Course I’m not. Don’t be so daft. But there’s folk who live in the cul-de-sac who haven’t spoken to their in-laws for years – we both know that; I wouldn’t want my kiddies growing up not knowing who their dad’s family were.’
‘Well, I suppose you’ve got a point,’ June admitted grudgingly, ‘although it’s a bit early for you to be thinking about kiddies, isn’t it? You and Eddie aren’t even married yet. Me and Frank have decided to wait until this war’s over before we have any … So you’re off to the WVS tonight then, are you?’
‘Yes,’ Molly confirmed. ‘We’re all going down to Mill Road Hospital so that we can learn what we’d have to do if there was an emergency.’
‘Sally said as how she might call round tonight,’ June told her.
They had almost reached number 46, but Molly knew better than to suggest a second time that June call in to see her mother-in-law.
Her sister had become increasingly short-tempered since Frank had left for France, and whilst Molly sympathised with her sometimes, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from reminding June that she wasn’t the only girl who was worrying about her man’s safety.
Every day or so it seemed to Molly there was another report in the papers of merchant ships being attacked and sunk by Hitler’s warships and submarines. There were rumours that the whole of the east coast had been mined by enemy ships so that nothing could put to sea from British ports without risking being blown up. Molly gave an involuntary shudder. Every night she prayed for the safety of all the brave men who were doing their bit for Britain.
Everyone was being exhorted not to waste valuable fuel that was needed for the war effort, but Molly admitted guiltily that it was wonderful to walk into the parlour and find a good fire burning, thanks to their father’s ‘perk’ of being allowed to collect loose coals from the goods yard.
An hour later, after a hasty supper of corned beef hash, Molly was ready to go out again, her curls pinned back beneath her WVS cap.
‘See you later,’ she called, putting her head round the door to the back parlour, where her father and sister were sitting beside the fire, listening to the wireless.
As usual Molly had arranged to meet Anne under the Picton Clock and on this occasion she got there first, although she didn’t have to wait long to see Anne’s familiar figure hurrying towards her.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Anne apologised. ‘Only Dad was kept late at work on account of some shocking news they’ve had. I’m not really supposed to say anything, but I know I can trust you, Molly.’
‘What’s happened?’ Molly asked her as they set off for Mill Road Hospital where they were to meet up with the others.
‘Well, you know that Dad is an accountant with the council?’
Molly nodded.
‘This afternoon they were all called to a meeting and told that there’s this chap, really important he is, a ship repairer, and seemingly he’s done himself in. The Admiralty found out that he’s stolen money from them by claiming wages for nonexistent jobs and employees, and stealing materials to sell elsewhere. Dad said that he’s stolen over twenty million pounds, enough money for the Admiralty to have built a new warship.’
‘How dreadful!’ Molly gasped.
‘Yes, isn’t it? It all came out when Mum was telling Dad about how pleased she was at getting some stuff from a friend of hers.’ Anne pulled a face. ‘You know, Molly, off the bla
ck market. Dad was really angry and said that Mum was being unpatriotic, and then he told us about this man.’
Anne looked so upset that Molly put her arm round her shoulders and gave her a small hug.
‘I don’t suppose he meant to upset you, Anne,’ she consoled her.
Eddie had already told her that virtually all merchant seamen brought things back with them that they knew they could sell at home for more than they had paid for them. Like her father’s pieces of coal, that was considered an unofficial perk of the job. ‘Course, some of them go a bit too far and get themselves hauled over the coals for it,’ Eddie had added, ‘but there’s that much stuff goes over the side at the docks when they’re loading and unloading the ships that what we bring in is nothing.’
Selling on goods that had ‘fallen off a lorry’ was a way of life for dock workers, as everyone who lived in Liverpool knew. Molly didn’t condone it but could understand the need when money was tight and there were children to feed and clothe.
Mill Road Hospital had been built at the end of the nineteenth century, and had originally been the West Union and Derby Poorhouse Infirmary. But unlike other poorhouse infirmaries its nurses had been trained by methods set down by Florence Nightingale herself. During the Great War the hospital had started taking in wounded soldiers, changing its status from an infirmary for the long-term ill, and becoming instead a hospital where acute cases were operated on.
The purpose of their visit was, Mrs Wesley explained when they were all gathered together, to familiarise themselves with the floor plan of the hospital and its wards, so that, should it be deemed necessary by the authorities, members of their group could help out at the hospital in an emergency in a variety of practical and non-medical ways.
‘In the event of Liverpool being bombed it will be our role to facilitate the identification of the injured and to provide them with support as and where necessary whilst they wait to receive treatment,’ Mrs Wesley explained. ‘And if there are other tasks we are called upon to perform then I would exhort you all to do them efficiently and speedily.’
‘If she means we’re going to have to empty bedpans, the ’ospital can find someone else,’ a woman standing next to Molly muttered behind her hand, whilst the girl beside her tittered.
‘I also want volunteers for Lime Street station next week. We’ve got any number of troop trains leaving and, of course, we shall want to send our boys off with a hot cup of tea and a sandwich inside them.’
‘Oh, that must have been what my fella was after the other night,’ the girl who had made the comment about bedpans whispered to her friend, who immediately started to giggle and ended up having to cough to conceal her amusement.
‘I’m so glad we’re proper friends again, Molly,’ Anne told her when they were all taken to the nurses’ canteen for a welcome cup of tea. ‘I thought at the time I was acting in your best interests, trying to persuade you to do what seemed right, but I didn’t realise then what it’s like to fall in love.’ She blushed self-consciously. ‘I expect you’ve guessed about me and Philip?’
‘I had wondered,’ Molly admitted, ‘especially when I saw the way the two of you looked at each other.’
‘It happened so quickly, Molly. On Christmas Day Richard was teasing us both with a piece of mistletoe so poor Philip had no option but to kiss me. I wasn’t expecting … that is, I knew I liked Philip but …’ Blushing and laughing, her eyes shining with happiness, Anne confessed shyly, ‘Oh, Molly, I never imagined that kissing someone could feel like that. And on Boxing Day, when Philip and I went out for a long walk together and we were talking about it, Philip said that he had thought exactly the same. I thought of you then, and I felt so bad about how unkind to you I’d been. You’re the dearest girl, Molly, and I want us to stay friends so much, especially now. Tell me that you forgive me.’
Molly’s heart overflowed with emotion. ‘Of course I forgive you,’ she assured Anne, her words muffled as they hugged one another fiercely.
‘We’ll be able to support one another now, Molly,’ Anne told her. ‘It isn’t going to be easy with both Eddie and Philip doing their bit, but at least you and me will have each other. It’s like Philip was saying to my parents when he asked Dad’s permission for us to be engaged, things are different in wartime.’
‘You’re engaged!’
Automatically Molly looked at Anne’s left hand, but there was no ring on her finger.
‘Only unofficially at the moment,’ Anne sighed. ‘Dad’s a bit old-fashioned and he insisted that we have to wait until my twenty-first birthday in May, on account of us not knowing one another very long yet.’ She pulled a face, and then said fiercely, ‘I know that I won’t change my mind and that I shall love Philip for ever.’
Mrs Wesley was signalling that their tea break was over. Exchanging mutually understanding looks, Molly and Anne rejoined the others.
An hour later, when they had tramped for what felt like miles down long disinfectant-smelling corridors, getting to know the layout of the hospital, Molly turned to whisper to Anne, ‘I’m glad I’m not a nurse. Me feet are killing me.’
‘Mine too,’ Anne agreed.
Her and Anne’s feet might have been aching, but their hearts were filled with happiness and love, Molly reflected joyfully as she hurried home to number 78, huddling deep in her coat to avoid the icy cold.
Perhaps Sally would still be there. She hadn’t seen her for a few days. The bitter cold and the short dark days had meant that the women of the close had kept themselves very much to themselves during January, apart from exchanging gossip whilst they queued with their ration books, and grumbling about having to stand for so long in such a biting wind.
Because they were both at work, Molly and June had had to rely on Elsie for information on what was happening to everyone else, and it seemed that every family in the street now had a husband, a father, a son or a brother in uniform and ready to fight for his country. Every household now had an air-raid shelter box ready to snatch up in case of need, and, thanks to Alf Davies and the leaders of the local Cub and Scout troops and the Guide and Brownie packs, all the children in the area knew their gas mask and air-raid shelter drill. Some of the older boys had been formed into a messenger service to be used in case the telegraph lines went down. Molly had seen them practising racing one another up and down the streets on their bicycles as they challenged each other to see how fast they could deliver any message.
But despite all this activity, people’s initial fears had subsided. The attacks people had feared had not happened and a new mood of confidence was beginning to take over, as people assured one another that Hitler would soon be sent packing with his tail between his legs by the BEF, and the celebratory flags would be out all over Britain by the summer. Even Molly’s fears had begun slowly to subside, especially knowing Eddie was due home any day.
‘There’s no need for you to rush into getting married, Molly,’ June told her once Molly was settled in front of the fire with a mug of hot cocoa. ‘The war will be over by summer, and then you can have a proper do with a proper frock.’
‘Well, I just hope our boys don’t come home via Paris. Not after what I’ve been reading in the papers,’ Sally said. ‘I don’t want my Ronnie having his head turned by one of those French mademoiselles, thank you very much.’
They all laughed.
‘When’s your Eddie back, Molly?’ Sally asked her.
‘Tomorrow.’ Molly was unable to stop a huge grin from breaking out across her face.
‘Are you going down to Garston Dock to wait for him?’ June asked her.
Molly shook her head. As a precaution, just in case Jerry should attempt to bomb them, the convoys crossing the Atlantic were coming into Liverpool’s docks under cover of darkness, often arriving in the early hours of the morning, and were quickly unloaded so that they could put back to sea. Eddie had said before he left that he wasn’t sure what time they would dock and he didn’t want Molly waiting around in the co
ld and dark for hours.
‘He said not to, just in case they were delayed. I’ve told Mr Harding that I’m going to take a day off without pay when Eddie does get back, though. Eddie said that before he left they’d been told it would have to be a quick turnaround this time, without any proper shore leave: the country is depending on the merchant navy to bring in as many supplies as they can,’ she added proudly.
Sometimes it seemed to Molly that June and Sally, both with husbands in the army, seemed to forget that other men were doing their bit for the war effort as well and that it was just as important, their bravery just as great. A man didn’t always need a gun to do his duty.
When Sally announced that it was time for her to go home, Molly noticed that June had left her cocoa.
‘Are you still feeling queer?’ she asked her sister when they had closed the door behind Sally.
June shook her head. ‘I’ve bin feeling a bit sickly like all day,’ she admitted. ‘It must have bin sommat I ate.’
Molly looked at her sister. She knew that June had said that she and Frank weren’t planning on starting a family whilst there was a war on, but with June now saying that she felt sick, and knowing that her sister normally had a healthy appetite, Molly couldn’t help but wonder. Not that she had any intentions of telling June what she was thinking. With the mood June had been in these last few days she would probably snap her head off if she did.
She tried to imagine how she would feel if she and Eddie were married and she was feeling sickly on account of them having started a baby. The feeling of longing that swept over her made her eyes ache with tears. Once she and Eddie were wed there’d be no waiting for the war to be over; she already knew that she couldn’t wait to hold his baby in her arms. Elsie would be thrilled as well. She knew that. And Elsie wasn’t just Eddie’s auntie: she was as good as an adopted mother to Molly as well. She was so lucky to have so many people in her life to share her love with, Molly decided, and even more lucky to have her wonderful, wonderful Eddie. She couldn’t imagine her life now without him. It just wouldn’t be worth living.