Secrets of the Shipyard Girls

by Nancy Revell

  To many, Joe knew, this might have been a disastrous start to married life, but the fact that they were sitting here together, being open with each other, and supportive, said to him their marriage was going to be a good one. They would deal with whatever life chucked at them – and they would do it together. Like they were doing now.

  ‘And …’ Bel said, her voice croaky from tiredness, and emotion, as well as the brandy she had now finished, ‘I hate to admit it, but I feel really worried about Ma.’

  Joe leant forward and gently squeezed her hand. He had known there was something else that was troubling Bel.

  ‘I know that Ma’s gone off before – God knows she used to disappear enough when I was younger – but she’s been different lately … Dare I say it – nicer? There was just something about the way she left the pub that’s worried me.’

  Joe knew it would be pointless telling Bel that everything would be all right. You never knew where Pearl was concerned. And Bel was right, Pearl had had an odd look about her when she’d left. But, as Joe also knew, there was nothing either of them could do about it tonight. Even if they had gone out looking for her, they wouldn’t know where to look and it would have been hopeless in the blackout.

  ‘I’ll bet you as soon as we get back tomorrow, she’ll be there, out the backyard, a cuppa in one hand, a fag in the other.’ Joe smiled and Bel allowed herself a bittersweet laugh. That was her ma to a T.

  ‘Come on,’ Joe said, ‘let’s get into bed.’ He looked at Bel and saw a slightly nervous look cross her face.

  ‘It may not be the most red-blooded suggestion for a man to put to his new wife on his wedding night, but, you know what I want more than all the tea in China?’ he asked, before answering his own question. ‘To simply spend the entire night with my arms wrapped around the woman I love more than anybody or anything in the whole wide world.’

  Joe saw Bel’s face relax, and although he might have been telling a little white lie, cuddling up to his new wife was going to be the next best thing.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Lily took another sip of her whisky and shuffled to get comfortable on the high wooden stool at the end of the bar. She looked around her and mused on the unexpected events of the day. It had certainly been a wedding to remember – although memorable for all the wrong reasons.

  Allowing herself an end-of-evening smoke, Lily got out her packet of Gauloises and lit a cigarette. She was feeling a tad relieved as she had just had a quick word with Agnes before she’d left. She’d apologised for having introduced Maisie to the Elliot family – albeit unintentionally. She knew just how protective Agnes was of Bel, having more or less brought her up as one of her own, and because of this Lily had been more than a little concerned that Agnes might well be angry with anyone associated with the woman who had ruined her son and daughter-in-law’s wedding day.

  Thankfully, Agnes had dismissed her words with a wave of the hand, showing that she in no way harboured any ill feeling towards Lily, and making no bones about the fact that there was ‘always some kind of drama’ wherever Pearl was concerned.

  Their brief chat had also given Lily the opportunity to thank Agnes for caring for Rosie the night she’d been attacked by her uncle. Something she had wanted to do for the past year.

  ‘Anyone,’ Agnes had said to Lily, ‘would have done the same.’

  Lily had smiled; she knew that this was not necessarily true, and not everyone would have taken in a complete stranger, nursed them all night, and not asked any questions. Lily liked Agnes. Perhaps in time they could become friends of sorts.

  She had also been introduced to Gloria, who had thanked her profusely for paying the solicitor’s fees for her divorce. Lily had told her that all that ‘financial nonsense’ was George’s domain, and that it was she who should be thanking Gloria and the rest of the women welders for helping Rosie.

  When Lily had said, ‘No amount of money could have made up for that’ Gloria had chuckled and said George had used more or less the same words.

  ‘That’s what happens when you spend so much time with the same person,’ Lily had laughed. ‘You end up thinking the same, never mind speaking the same!’

  Gloria had introduced Lily to Hope, but shortly afterwards the baby announced that it was time to go home by bawling her adorable little eyes out.

  As Lily sat pensively in a swirling cloud of smoke, George crept up behind her and whispered in her ear, ‘A penny for your thoughts, my dear?’ He was back from dropping off the newly-weds.

  Lily stubbed her cigarette out, turned around and laughed, ‘It’ll cost you more than that!’

  George grabbed a bar stool. Propping against it the ornate ivory walking stick that Lily had bought for him earlier on in the year, he seated himself.

  ‘I was actually thinking,’ Lily admitted, ‘that it’s been rather an eventful day.’

  George looked at Lily’s manicured hand, which was wrapped round a glass of single malt. He thought how pristine she still looked in the beautifully tailored vibrant green dress that he’d been repeatedly told was designed by royal couturier Norman Hartnell.

  ‘Eventful?’ George let out a laugh, ‘it’s certainly been that.’

  Lily looked at George and thought he seemed a little distracted.

  ‘Lord knows,’ she said, ‘what we’re going to do with Maisie.’ As Lily spoke she looked across at Rosie, who was sitting with the big woman from her squad, the little Jewish girl, and some strange-looking skinny lad wearing bottle top glasses. Rosie was sipping on a port, and looked relaxed.

  ‘It’s been nice to see Rosie let her hair down a little today,’ Lily said. ‘She’s even had a dance with one of the soldiers.’

  George choked on a large glug of whisky. ‘I wouldn’t read much into that,’ he chuckled. ‘That soldier was at least as old as me … ancient … If you ask me, I still think Rosie’s holding a candle for that detective of hers.’

  ‘Oh don’t, George,’ Lily said, reaching for another cigarette.

  ‘I really hope not … but –’ Lily lit her Gauloise ‘– I’ve got a horrible feeling you might be right. She’s not said anything about him of late, but I think she might secretly be mooning after him.’

  She took a deep drag. ‘Love, eh? Or should I say unrequited love.’

  ‘Mmm,’ George agreed.

  Lily again thought George seemed unusually thoughtful – even a little on edge. ‘You all right?’ she asked. ‘You’re not worried about Rosie – or the Maisie situation, are you?’

  ‘No, no, my dear, probably just getting a bit tired now. Can’t party like I used to, you know?’

  Lily laughed. ‘Well, you give it a good try. Come on, then,’ she said stubbing out her half-smoked cigarette, ‘let’s leave the young ’uns to it.’

  George and Lily said their goodnights to everyone, and walked out of the pub and into the cold night air. It was pitch black, but the sky was clear.

  When they reached the MG, George looked up to the inky darkness, speckled with stars and a half-moon, and declared, ‘You don’t get a more perfect sky at night than that.’

  He waved his walking stick into the air.

  Lily looked up to the heavens. ‘Perfect these days means no searchlights and no Luftwaffe!’ she declared. But as she dragged her vision away from the peaceful skies and glanced round, she took a surprised step back – George was bent down on one knee on the pavement.

  ‘You lost something, George?’ Lily scanned the ground.

  ‘No, no, my dear,’ George chuckled a little nervously, adding somewhat cryptically, ‘although some may say I have lost my mind.’

  Lily watched puzzled as he proceeded to rummage around in the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘I know …’ he said, ‘… that you have been embarrassed enough for one day … what with the wedding bouquet and all.’

  Lily laughed out loud. ‘Mortified, never mind embarrassed.’

  ‘But,’ George added with a mysterious smile on his face, ‘
there may well have been a reason why it was you who ended up with the bride’s bouquet.’

  Lily looked at George as if he really had lost his mind.

  Until she saw it.

  The magnificent diamond ring he was holding between his forefinger and thumb.

  It looked like it cost a small fortune, and, knowing George, it probably did.

  Lily stared in total disbelief. Her mouth was half open. She started to say something, but George got in first.

  ‘No, Lily, I’m not ready for the loony bin, nor have I had one whisky too many, if that’s what you’re thinking. I have wanted to do this for quite some time … Have waited far too long, in my opinion … So, I decided today would be the perfect opportunity to ask you …’ He paused and took a deep breath.

  ‘… to ask you if you would do me the greatest honour in agreeing to become my wife?’

  Lily’s face lit up. She was about to speak but stopped herself – then her face broke into a cheeky smile.

  ‘If I say “no” can I still keep the ring?’

  George looked at Lily, like a headmaster about to reprimand his pupil.

  ‘Lily,’ he said sternly, ‘… you are not allowed to use your normal diversionary tactics with me. You have to give me a “yes” or a “no”. And I’m going to stay here until you do.’

  Lily knew she was not going to joke her way out of this. She was cornered. She stared hard at George and knew he meant what he said – he would stay there until she made her decision.

  ‘George,’ she said, her face softening and a smile playing on her lips, ‘that’s a very difficult question to answer … so many things to consider …’

  George was still on his knee, his hand on the top of his walking stick keeping him steady.

  ‘For instance,’ Lily said, dropping her voice, ‘what about the bordello and the new club?’

  George let out a loud laugh.

  ‘God, Lily, always the businesswoman. Of course, it goes without saying that what’s yours, stays yours, and what’s mine … is both of ours.’

  Lily looked at the huge diamond ring glinting in George’s hand.

  ‘Well,’ she said, slowly, a genuine smile spreading across her face, ‘I think that may have just tipped the balance. My answer,’ her voice was soft and her eyes shone with a rare display of tenderness, ‘is … yes. Yes. George Hartley, I would love to marry you.’

  George let out a huge, theatrical sigh of relief.

  ‘Thank goodness for that.’ He pushed himself back to a standing position, then took Lily’s hand and put the ring on her engagement finger.

  After he had done so, Lily stood, her arm outstretched in front of her, staring at the glittering diamond.

  ‘Oh, George,’ she said, ‘I do love you, you know?’

  She looked straight into the eyes of the man she had just agreed to marry. The person who had brought such happiness to her at an age when she had never expected to find love.

  ‘And that’s not just because of this beautiful ring.’

  Neither of them said anything for a moment. Then they stepped towards each other and George put his hand around the back of Lily’s head, gently pulled her face to his and the pair shared a long kiss.

  As they stood there, kissing under the blanket of the night sky, Rosie came out of the pub, but stopped in her tracks when she saw the two people she loved dearly sharing this very intimate and romantic moment.

  She was a little shocked, but not that surprised. She had always wondered about Lily and George.

  Now she knew.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  When Gloria got home shortly after seven, she was jiggered. Thankfully, so was Hope, who was now sleeping soundly in her crib upstairs next to Gloria’s bed.

  ‘What a day,’ Gloria said aloud to her empty home. A home she was glad was empty. There was only one other person she would have wanted here this evening, and that was Jack.

  But that was obviously an impossible dream.

  Rosie had told her that Jack had started work at Crown’s, and she had heard Miriam was dragging him along to every dinner date and function going. Jack seemed to be physically well, but was showing no signs of getting his memory back.

  It was now time for Gloria to face facts.

  Jack was not going to be a part of their lives.

  As Gloria put the kettle on, she got out the piece of wedding cake she had wrapped in a napkin and brought home with her. Dorothy, bless her, had forsaken her own slice to give to her.

  Dorothy’s right, Gloria said quietly to herself. It’s about time I got Hope christened.

  After she’d made herself a pot of tea, she poured a cup and put her slice of precious fruit cake on a plate, and trundled through to the lounge where she switched on the wireless for her favourite programmes. Tonight, though, they didn’t give her the usual escapism from her own thoughts and concerns, and she kept thinking about Maisie, and how her life had clearly been shaped by the fact that she had never known either of her parents.

  When it came to her own situation, Gloria knew that she had to be honest – for Hope’s sake. Of that she was now one hundred per cent certain.

  She just had to choose the right time to break the news to Vinnie that Hope was not his. And when she did so, she would be doing it on her own. There would be no knight in shining armour galloping back into town to rescue her. It was time Gloria faced facts:

  She was going to have to save herself.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  As Joe and Bel lay in each other’s arms in the huge, confetti-littered bed, they chatted into the early morning before they both finally fell asleep. Bel’s sleep was sporadic, though. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she had a sister. When she’d been a young girl, she had dreamed of having a sister to play with, to confide in – to simply keep her company during her ma’s absences. When Agnes had taken her in, she had got her wish to a certain extent, as Polly had become like a sister to her.

  Now, after all these years, she had found out that, all along, she did have a sister. But it was fair to say that Maisie was by no means anything like the sister she had dreamed of having as a child. Quite the reverse.

  As her mind refused to rest, Bel thought back to snippets of information that Kate had told her during her dress fittings. Maisie had come up from London to help start up a ‘Gentlemen’s Club’, whatever that was, but nothing had been known about Maisie’s childhood and the life she had led since then.

  What had happened to her to make her so bitter and so angry? She had wanted retribution, but the way she had done it told Bel she also wanted attention. And love.

  Well, if she did, she had gone about it the wrong way.

  As Bel fell in and out of slumber, she kept thinking the same thoughts over and over. Finding a long-lost relative should be wonderful, shouldn’t it? Like in the films, where they hug and kiss each other and talk for hours and everyone lives happily-ever-after.

  Why, Bel asked herself, had she been so unlucky when it came to her family? She had said to Joe this evening that she was a ‘lucky woman’, and in so many ways she was incredibly fortunate – but she couldn’t escape the reality that she had picked the short straw when it came to her nearest and dearest: Her long-lost sister was a pretty horrible and vindictive person. And Bel didn’t even know who her own father was.

  But worst of all was that her mother – the only family she’d ever known – had never loved her.

  When Bel had been growing up all she had really wanted was her mother’s love and care. It wasn’t until she herself had become a mum that she’d finally realised that her ma would never love her like a normal mother loves a daughter.

  She had believed that this was just the way her mother was. That she wasn’t capable of giving a mother’s love. That she was missing some kind of natural maternalness. But she’d been proved wrong. She had seen it with Maisie the moment her ma opened her eyes in the snug at the Tatham and saw the daughter she had given up. />
  The realisation that her ma could give of a mother’s love had shocked Bel. And, much as she had tried to reason with herself that she was a lucky woman, who had the love of a wonderful man as well as the love of Agnes, the hurt cut deep.

  When she had heard her mother admitting that she had never been able to love her as a mother should, she had felt like a child again. Alone. Unloved. Worthless. In that instant, her mother’s confession had catapulted her back to her childhood and all the wretchedness that had gone along with growing up. She had sensed her mother’s innate inability to love her from when she was just a small girl. She had been able to tell, even when her mother gave her the occasional hug or tried to show some kind of affection, that it was forced, that it was not genuine, even if her mother had wanted it to be.

  Hearing it today, with her own ears, coming from her mother’s own mouth – well, that was another matter entirely.

  She couldn’t un-hear those words, or push them away. She could no longer try to convince herself that her mother had really loved her. The words had been said, and what’s more, they had been meant. Her mother had been brutally honest.

  Now Bel had to be face facts. Feel the hurt that had always been smarting just under the surface. Her own mother had never loved her.

  But as Bel turned over and snuggled into Joe, who was now snoring lightly, a thought came to her that provided a slight smear of balm for her hurt. There was actually one consolation she could take from her mother’s heartbreaking revelation today – that her ma had wanted to love her. She had tried. That much was clear. She had seen it in her guilt-ridden eyes and heard it in her voice. Was that in itself not a kind of love?

  In the quietness of the room, with Joe’s warm body pressed close to her own, try as she might, Bel couldn’t shift the feeling of deep concern she had about her ma. Where had she gone? Was she back at the house now? In her own bed?

  She had a gut feeling that her mother’s bed was untouched, and that her ma was dealing with what had happened in the only way she knew how. With drink.