Secrets of the Shipyard Girls

by Nancy Revell

  ‘So,’ Rupert explained, leaning forward across his solid mahogany desk, an action which was hindered by his quite substantial belly, ‘without wanting to sound in any way flippant, there has never been a better time to get divorced. If you had been sitting here four years ago, we would be having a very different conversation and you would be looking at a far more difficult and complicated scenario … I won’t, however,’ he added, taking a sip of water from a glass on his desk, ‘… bore you with all the ins and outs of the history of legislation regarding the ending of a marriage.’

  Gloria nodded even though she was not really taking on board much of what Rupert was telling her.

  ‘So,’ he continued, ‘to keep my waffling short and to the point, there was a change in the law in 1937, which was about time as the law regarding divorce hadn’t really changed much since 1857.’ He chuckled and opened up a wooden box of cigars. Picking one out, he continued.

  ‘So, Gloria, the way the law stands at the moment in this country, you can divorce your husband on any of the following grounds …’ He smelt the cigar, and continued: ‘Adultery – cruelty – incurable insanity – and desertion – although this would have to be for a period of at least three years. These are termed “matrimonial offences”.’

  ‘Well,’ Gloria said, ‘I could tick three out of the four boxes.’

  Rupert let out a deep laugh. He liked this woman’s feistiness and sense of humour.

  ‘Of course, we could always see if we could get him committed to the local madhouse,’ he chuckled. George had given him the low-down on this woman’s husband and by the sounds of it he deserved to be strapped up in a straitjacket, if it were only to force him to keep his hands to himself.

  ‘But failing that –’ he puffed on his cigar and the room was immediately filled with a sweet, oaky aroma ‘– we would be looking at petitioning for a divorce on the grounds of either adultery or cruelty.

  ‘This means, however, that we would have to have proof of either said adultery or cruelty.’

  Rupert cast a glance at his old friend, George, who had been sitting quietly in a chair next to Gloria.

  ‘Well,’ George coughed nervously, ‘I’m sorry to have to bring this up, Gloria,’ he looked back at Rupert, ‘but as I have mentioned to you before, Rups, and it pains me to say such an awful thing, but the man was far from averse to using his fists on Gloria – and on a fairly frequent basis, I hasten to add.’

  Gloria felt herself go bright red. Even now the shame of what Vinnie had done to her was still there, right at the surface.

  Rupert waited a moment, before saying, ‘I’m afraid it pains me even more, though, to say that the law is far from sympathetic when it comes to spousal abuse of any description. For our purposes we would need medical reports on any harm inflicted, or a report from the local constabulary which would prove the actions of this despicable man … And, I’m assuming that, as in the case of most women who have found themselves in this position, such physical violence has not been documented in any form.’

  Gloria nodded in agreement.

  ‘So,’ Rupert continued, ‘if you don’t mind, Gloria, would you tell me a little more about your circumstances – and in particular, about your husband’s adultery?’

  ‘Well, my husband has been living with his mistress now for over nine months. Since the day he left the family home,’ Gloria admitted.

  Rupert’s face immediately lit up and he took another puff on his cigar.

  ‘Excellent!’ The word was emitted with a swirl of grey smoke. ‘Then this should be a lot easier than I had first thought …’

  Over the next half hour or so Gloria remembered why she had never really liked school, and why she enjoyed working outdoors, even if the weather was arctic. Despite making a good show of looking like she was taking in what Rupert was saying, and nodding in what she hoped were the right places, the solicitor’s words about ‘decrees nisi’ and ‘absolute’ went over her head.

  The only bits she took notice of were when it came to discussing financial arrangements between her and Vinnie, to which Gloria said outright that she did not want a penny from her estranged husband, and that even if she did, there wouldn’t be a cat in hell’s chance of getting anything, as any money Vinnie had always ended up being poured down his neck.

  When Rupert had gone on to talk about Hope, Gloria was all ears.

  ‘Thankfully, any issues relating to your child will not form part of the divorce proceedings,’ Rupert explained. ‘If, by chance, there were any kind of disagreement over you having sole care and custody of your daughter, then that would be dealt with separately.’

  Gloria had never considered that Vinnie would want to have Hope. He might want to see her, and occasionally play the role of doting dad, but have responsibility for her? No. He wouldn’t. Would he?

  ‘So,’ Rupert said, ‘I think that will do for today …’

  Gloria straightened herself in her chair. The open fire in the room had made her feel a little sleepy.

  ‘I’m not sure exactly how this works,’ she said, uncertainly. She was clutching her handbag, in which she had all her savings, should they need the payment in full up front.

  ‘But do I pay you now, or …?’

  ‘No, no, my dear,’ Rupert said, balancing his half-smoked cigar on the side of the glass ashtray on his desk.

  ‘Sorry, Gloria,’ George interrupted. ‘I should have explained earlier.’ He turned on his chair so he was looking at her. ‘You won’t be needing to pay anything. I should have said before. This is on Lily and me.’

  Gloria looked at George, not quite understanding what he was saying.

  ‘You’re not paying a penny for this wretched divorce,’ George explained. ‘I’ll be sorting the money side of things out with Rupert here, who owes me more than a few favours anyway.’

  ‘Oh, George, no,’ Gloria interrupted, her pride bristling at the suggestion, ‘I can’t have you and Lily paying for all this. I just can’t. It’s as simple as that.’

  George laughed, and took Gloria’s hand, which was still clutching her handbag that had been sitting in her lap the whole time.

  ‘My dear, I hate to say this, but this is one battle you are going to lose. And that is the end of the matter.’

  But Gloria was insistent. ‘George, I can afford this, I have the money, here,’ she said, lifting her bag up to show she meant what she said.

  ‘Well, that may well be,’ George said, looking a little incredulously at the bag and realising why Gloria had been holding on to it as if her life depended on it, ‘but it makes no odds. I will be settling up with Rupert here when the time comes and you are no longer bound by matrimony to your husband … And,’ he said, looking over to his old school chum, before turning his attention back to Gloria and dropping his voice as he spoke.

  ‘This is Lily’s and my way of saying “thank you” for helping Rosie out when she really needed it.’

  He leant forward and rested his hand on the ivory hand-carved handle of his walking stick.

  ‘If it hadn’t been for you and the rest of your gang, Lily and I would be without someone who is so very dear to us, and who we love very much. No amount of money could have made up for that.’

  George and Lily had always felt indebted – and incredibly thankful – to Rosie’s squad of women welders. If they had not gone back to find their boss that night, and saved her from her uncle’s murderous intentions, there was no doubting that the woman George and Lily loved like a daughter would not still be with them now.

  Gloria saw that George meant every word he said, and that just the thought of what had happened to Rosie that night had caused tears to well in his eyes. ‘It is Lily and I,’ he said, ‘who owe you.’

  ‘So,’ George said, his voice returning to its normal volume, ‘I’m not going to enter into any more of a discussion with you.’

  Gloria smiled at George. Never before had she received such kindness or generosity. And she knew there was no po
int arguing. George and Lily had made their minds up.

  ‘And, if I were you,’ he added as they both stood up to leave, ‘I’d jolly well get those savings in a bank tout suite – to borrow one of Lily’s well-worn phrases. It makes me ill just thinking of you walking around with all your hard-earned money in your bag.’

  Gloria laughed. George’s accent reminded her of how male actors talked in the films that Dorothy was always trying to drag them all off to see.

  ‘I think that’s a good idea, George. I shall go right there now … And,’ she added, ‘thank you.’

  Rupert managed to lift his immense bulk on to his feet and lean over to shake Gloria’s hand.

  ‘So, I’ll sort out all the nitty-gritty, as it were, but, as I said, unfortunately these things do take time, several months I’m afraid – but we will get there – and I’ll be seeing you in the interim to sign those forms we talked about.’

  Gloria shook hands with both men and left the room. As she walked down the steps, she felt quite overwhelmed. The past hour had drained her more than an entire day welding. Her head was full to bursting. She knew her divorce would bring with it a real stigma and she would be wearing the label of a ‘divorcee’ for the rest of her life, but as she turned the corner to walk along Toward Road, she realised that she really didn’t give a fig. She had taken the first step, and it had felt like a humongous step at that. She had put her words into action and she had seen the lawyer. The ball was rolling. She had done it. For the first time in a long time she felt proud of herself.

  As she walked round to Fawcett Street and up towards Lloyds Bank, she knew it was time for her second step.

  It was time for her to get a bank account.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘Yay! She’s back!’ Dorothy pushed her helmet back and stood up so quickly that she bashed into the back of Martha, who, of course, didn’t budge an inch. They were with Brutus again, helping the riveters to flesh out her huge metal ribs with sheets of metal.

  On seeing Gloria, the rest of the women welders all stopped what they were doing to greet their workmate. They knew she had been really nervous about her meeting with the solicitor that morning.

  ‘How’d it go?’ Dorothy had to practically shout to be heard above the sound of the drillers working nearby. Rosie pointed at an imaginary watch on her wrist and then put up both hands to signify ten minutes to go before lunch.

  Knowing chatter would have been fruitless due to the noise, they all went back to work, but as soon as the horn sounded out their break for lunch, they were quick to down tools in their eagerness to hear how Gloria’s important appointment had gone.

  After they clambered their way out of the dry basin, they hurried across the yard to the canteen. Today it was too cold to eat outside and the skies had darkened over the course of the morning and rain had begun to spit down. Once in the warmth of the canteen, Gloria gave them a brief résumé of what Rupert had told her, which was short and to the point as much of what had been said had gone over her head. All Gloria really knew was that the process of divorcing Vinnie had now begun.

  ‘Well done, Gloria!’ Rosie said, as they joined the queue. ‘It must have been really nerve-racking. I find those kinds of places really intimidating.’

  Gloria agreed, but knew it was highly unlikely Rosie would feel belittled in such circumstances. Her boss had seen and experienced all levels of society, from the top to the bottom, and she doubted she would have been unnerved by a visit to a lawyer.

  As they reached the front of the queue, Dorothy couldn’t wait to ask the question that she and Angie had been dying to ask.

  ‘And George? What was George like?’ she asked as she sidled up to Gloria. Angie managed to push her way in front of Martha, who didn’t seem to mind.

  ‘You lot all want pies and peas?’ Muriel the dinner lady interrupted. ‘’Cause there’s nowt else on offer if you don’t,’ she cackled.

  ‘Not that there ever is!’ Angie snapped back. She didn’t like Muriel. Angie knew Muriel, who lived down the road from her and was known as a real gossip – a ‘right stirrer’ was how her ma described her, ‘always sticking her nose in other folk’s business’.

  After they had all been served, paid their dues, and sat down at their table, Dorothy asked again, ‘So then? George? What was he like?’

  ‘Well, you all might find out for yourselves soon,’ Polly butted in, sensing Gloria’s discomfort, and taking a big bite of her mince and onion pie.

  ‘Have I missed anything?’ Hannah’s voice sang out behind them as she arrived at the table, squashing herself between Martha and Polly. Martha checked if Hannah had anyone with her and on seeing that Olly was nowhere in sight, allowed herself a self-satisfied smile; she put her thick arm around her little friend and gave her a squeeze.

  ‘Well,’ Polly explained to five enrapt faces, ‘George’s lovely little MG is going to be the wedding car – and George is going to be chauffeur for the day.’

  Dorothy and Angie squealed with excitement, causing the table of older men next to them to turn their heads and look.

  Rosie had to purse her lips so as not to laugh. This wedding was going to be quite a day. From what Polly had told her, Bel and Joe had wanted it to be a small affair, but Pearl had commandeered the use of the pub for the reception. All of a sudden there was room for many more guests, and the invitation list had grown to fill the space.

  As the women started to chatter about the wedding, Rosie felt a jab of anxiety that it would be the first time her two normally very separate worlds would merge. A part of her was apprehensive – the other pleased. It was certainly something she’d never thought would ever happen. But these were times of change. You just needed to look at Gloria; or at all the women, for that matter. They had all changed.

  ‘Oh,’ Rosie chirped up, ‘and I forgot to tell you.’ A mischievous twinkle had come into her eyes. ‘You’ll also get to meet my friend Lily. She’s going to be my guest for the wedding.’

  Dorothy and Angie looked as if they were going to explode with excitement. They stared speechless at each other. Eyes on stalks.

  ‘Ohh, this just gets better and better!’ Dorothy exclaimed.

  Rosie looked down at Dorothy’s untouched pie. ‘Well, you better get some food down you or you’ll not have the energy for any wedding, never mind any welding.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Polly looked at Dorothy and Angie, ‘you two, you haven’t told us much about who you’re bringing along?’

  ‘We’re not sure,’ Angie answered, as Dorothy now had a mouthful of pie and could only mumble.

  ‘We did have a couple of blokes in mind, but then you told us that Joe’s got some of his Home Guard brigade coming along and there’s a couple of farmers from out Hetton-le-Hole way going … So, we might just come our two selves.’

  Polly rolled her eyes and Martha chuckled.

  ‘And how’s your mother coping with all the organisation?’ Hannah asked. ‘I know my mama would be … what is the word? Frantic … That’s it. She would be quite frantic about preparing her child’s wedding.’

  ‘Frantic, Hannah, is spot on,’ Polly said. ‘Ma’s running round like a headless chicken. But she’s a happy headless chicken. And, of course, Lucille is getting more excited by the day. Even the two dogs seem to be getting under everyone’s feet more than usual.’

  Hannah sighed. ‘It sounds wonderful.’

  Martha looked at Hannah’s sad face and gave her friend another surprisingly gentle hug; they all knew Hannah would give anything to be in the warm, hectic hub of her own family, but that she now knew with increasing certainty, due to the news reports being drip-fed to the nation, that the situation with the Jews in Europe – and now in Russia – was going from bad to worse.

  ‘And,’ Dorothy forced down the last of her pie, ‘what about the honeymoon? Have they got anything planned?’

  ‘Ah, funny you should ask,’ Polly said a little mysteriously, ‘but I’ve got something up my sleeve for
them … I’m hoping to get them a suite in the Grand for the night.’

  ‘Wow!’ Angie looked as if she thought Polly had said she was going to send the couple to the moon and back. ‘That’s amazing!’

  ‘It will be, if I can get it sorted,’ Polly said.

  As they all stacked up their plates and cutlery and made to leave their table, Rosie suddenly butted in. ‘I keep forgetting to say to you, Polly, but one of the girls, Vivian her name is, well, she’s a dab hand at hairdressing. She’s offered to do Bel’s hair, but please don’t feel you have to invite her to the wedding if you take her up on the offer.’

  Polly told Rosie to thank Vivian for the kind offer and that she would relay the message to Bel.

  As they walked out of the canteen, Rosie looked up at the administration office and caught sight of Helen, her jet black hair wavy and loose, walking away from the window. Rosie automatically looked at Gloria, who thankfully hadn’t noticed that their nemesis was back. Her return was a reminder that Miriam had got her own way. Helen was back doing Jack’s job which had only been meant to be temporary until his return. Jack had now clearly been sent to work at Crown’s.

  As the women slowly made their way back to the dry dock, Dorothy sidled up to Gloria. ‘How you feeling about Jack?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Honestly?’ Gloria asked. There was no sharpness in her voice, but there was an overriding sense of despair.

  ‘Honestly,’ Dorothy repeated, looking at her friend’s face and seeing a real sadness there.

  ‘I really don’t know any more,’ Gloria said, forcing a smile. ‘I really don’t know …’

  ‘Well,’ Dorothy said, lifting her voice and giving Gloria’s arm a reassuring squeeze, ‘don’t you think that just because everyone’s wrapped up in this wedding malarkey that I’ve forgotten about little Hope’s christening. Because I haven’t!’

  Gloria smiled. This time it was genuine.

  ‘Eee, I don’t know, Dorothy. Yer never give up, do ya? When am I gonna get time to even think about it, never mind organise it – as if working here, looking after a two-month-old baby, and sorting out a divorce, aren’t enough to cope with!’ she exclaimed in mock exasperation.