Home Front Girls

by Rosie Goodwin

  Lucy shook her head, her lips set in a prim line, and Annabelle got the impression that she didn’t like her to mention him, which was strange. After all, he was only her brother, not her husband. But then Lucy answered shortly, ‘No, I haven’t, but he only left a few days ago. Even if he had written, I doubt the letter would have had time to reach me yet.’

  ‘Oh no, no, of course not.’ Annabelle was flustered and now pointed to a tiny ornate desk in the corner, hoping to change the subject. ‘Daddy bought me that for my fourteenth birthday. It’s an antique and worth a fortune apparently.’

  ‘It’s lovely.’ Lucy looked at it appreciatively. ‘Is it a Chippendale piece?’

  ‘I believe it is.’ Annabelle was astonished that Lucy would know about things like that.

  ‘I thought it was, by the shape of the legs. My mother loved—’ Lucy stopped abruptly and a shadow flitted across her face, then forcing a smile again she said, ‘Let’s have a look through your record collection then. Do you have any by the Ink Spots? I love their music.’

  They spent the next hour pleasantly but then when Lucy saw the clock on Annabelle’s bedside table, she said regretfully, ‘I’m afraid I shall have to be making tracks now. By the time we get home it will be Mary’s bedtime. I don’t want her to fall asleep on me on the bus. I might end up having to carry her and she’s a right little heavyweight now.’

  ‘I’ll come too,’ Dotty told her. ‘And then we can get the same bus into the city centre. I hate walking about the streets on my own now at night. It’s so dark.’

  Downstairs they found Miranda with Mary tucked on her lap and it was hard to tell who was enjoying the cuddle the most.

  ‘She’s such a sweetheart,’ Miranda said with a trace of sadness in her voice. ‘I always hoped for a large family but unfortunately it wasn’t to be. Not that I’m not grateful for Annabelle, of course,’ she added hastily when she saw her daughter frown. ‘But I suppose you’ll want to be off now, will you? I think Mary is getting tired if her yawns are anything to go by.’

  She bundled the child up in her outdoor clothes whilst Lucy and Dotty put their own coats on, then saw them to the door with Annabelle, where she kissed them all soundly. ‘It’s been an absolute pleasure to meet you,’ she told them sincerely. ‘I do hope you’ll come and visit us again. In fact, why don’t you all come and spend Christmas with us? Have a think about it and let Annabelle know what you want to do.’

  The girls thanked her as they headed off down the drive, and Miranda and Annabelle waved them off.

  Once they were back on the pavement, Dotty remarked, ‘Annabelle is such a show-off, isn’t she? I think she liked taking us around her house.’ She tittered. ‘Primrose Lodge, eh?’

  ‘Well, you can hardly blame her, can you?’ Lucy answered. ‘I think I might be a show-off in her position and it’s clear she’s been doted on by her parents. It must be nice to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth.’

  They then bent their heads and with Mary marching between them they set off for the bus stop through the darkened streets.

  Back at the house, Annabelle was pensive as she helped her mother to tidy up. She wondered why Lucy had seemed so put out when she had mentioned Joel, but then she shrugged. Perhaps all sisters were possessive of their brothers? Never having had one she could have no way of knowing so she put it from her mind.

  ‘Annabelle’s mother was lovely, wasn’t she?’ Dotty said as they stood waiting for the bus some time later. ‘And it was so kind of her to invite us to spend Christmas with them.’

  ‘It was, but I doubt we’d be able to get there with no buses running,’ Lucy reminded her.

  ‘Ah, you have a point there,’ Dotty answered, looking crestfallen.

  ‘It isn’t so far to my house though,’ Lucy went on. ‘So why don’t you come and spend the day with me and Mary? Perhaps you could borrow a bicycle from someone? It would be much better than spending the day on our own.’

  Dotty nodded enthusiastically. In truth she had been dreading spending her first Christmas all alone. ‘Thanks – I’ll see what I can do,’ she promised, and then they ushered Mary forward as the bus drew up.

  Chapter Ten

  On Christmas Eve it was mayhem in Owen Owen from the second the doors were opened. Shoppers who had left it until the last minute to buy their presents poured inside in a frenzied wave.

  ‘Crikey – I didn’t think we were even going to get a morning break,’ Annabelle puffed as they finally managed to catch a few minutes in the staff dining room late in the morning. ‘The way things are going, we won’t have any stock left for the January sales. I sold out of Evening in Paris within the first half an hour.’

  ‘It’s been the same in the children’s department,’ Lucy agreed. ‘I’m sure I’ve sold more pairs of pyjamas and nightdresses today than I’ve sold in the last month. And the children’s dressing-gowns are going like hot cakes too. In fact, I’ve already sold out of some ages.’

  ‘It’s not so busy in the fabric department,’ Dotty told them, ‘but that didn’t get me off the hook. Because it was quiet, Mrs Broadstairs has had me helping out down in the food hall. Lordy, you should just see what people are buying! Everything and anything they can get their hands on. I’m sure I’ve sold enough food in the last few hours to feed the entire British Army! If it goes on like this, I doubt I’ll be able to make the staff party this evening. My feet are killing me already.’

  ‘Oh yes, you will make the party,’ Annabelle told her bossily. ‘Even if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming. I’m certainly not going to let you miss out on a free drink; we’ll have earned it by the time we close.’

  All around them the staff were in fine spirits, partly at the thought of the promised party and partly because they were in a festive mood. Some of them were wearing silly party hats. Others were already dressed in their finery, with tinsel necklaces strung about their necks, but just for today Mrs Broadstairs had chosen to turn a blind eye.

  ‘She couldn’t really do any other, could she?’ Annabelle said dryly when Lucy commented on it. ‘Seeing as she’s done up like a dog’s dinner herself. Poor Mr Bradley won’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of escaping her when she’s had a few drinks.’

  They chuckled as they glimpsed Mrs Broadstairs sashaying across the dining room close on the heels of her unsuspecting prey as he headed for the counter. Her skirt was so tight that she looked in danger of bursting out of it at any minute, but she still managed to beat him to it and they heard her trill, ‘What would you like Mr Bradley? Tea? Coffee? My treat. It is Christmas Eve, after all.’

  The girls suppressed their laughter as the woman batted her eyelashes at him, and suddenly Dotty began to look forward to the party, after all.

  At last the doors to the store were closed and there was a mad rush for the ladies cloakroom so that the girls could touch up their make-up; some of them even got changed and the staid black skirts and white blouses were hastily discarded. Half an hour later they began to emerge and head for the staff dining room where the party would be held, looking like multi-coloured butterflies. Annabelle had changed into a very becoming pale blue dress that showed off her slim figure to perfection. She had also changed her lower heels for much higher ones, but both Dotty and Lucy settled for tidying their hair and adding a touch of lipstick.

  As soon as they got out of the lift they saw that the dining room had been transformed. Balloons dangled from the ceiling and the tables had been laid with a miniature banquet all along the length of one wall. Someone had brought a record player in and in no time at all people were dancing to the music, and the free wine that the store had supplied for the staff was flowing like water.

  ‘This is more like it,’ Annabelle said happily as she helped herself to another glass of wine, but then a hush fell on the room as Mr Bradley stopped the music to give them their customary Christmas speech.

  ‘I would like to thank all of you,’ he boomed, ‘for working so very hard
in the build-up to Christmas. We have been extraordinarily busy in Owen Owen and I am happy to be able to tell you that despite the present grave circumstances, the takings are up. It seems that the public are intent on making this Christmas a time to remember. Who knows what the coming year holds for us all? On that sombre note I would like you all to raise your glasses in a toast to loved ones who are absent at this special time, fighting for us, our king and country.’

  Lucy’s eyes filled with tears as she thought of Joel, and everyone solemnly made the toast, then Mr Bradley concluded, ‘It only remains for me now to wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Please enjoy the food and drink we have laid on, and have a very happy holiday.’

  A cheer went up as the music resumed and then Dotty dug Lucy in the ribs and hissed. ‘Look over there – quickly!’

  Lucy followed her eyes and laughed out loud as she saw that Mrs Broadstairs had penned Mr Bradley against the wall whilst she dangled a piece of mistletoe above her head. Seeing no alternative, the poor man leaned forward and pecked her hastily on the cheek and instantly another cheer went up as Mrs Broadstairs simpered with delight.

  ‘Let’s hope she gets her man,’ Dotty whispered. ‘She’s not such a bad old stick really, is she?’

  In that moment, it hit the girls how settled they now were at Owen Owen. They might have the occasional grumble admittedly, but it had become a sanctuary to them and through their jobs they had found each other.

  ‘I’d like to make a toast to us,’ Annabelle shouted above the loud music as she raised her glass. ‘Friends forever, eh? No matter what the future has in store!’

  ‘Hear hear!’ Dotty and Lucy chorused and then they all joined in with the party spirit.

  When the girls finally left the store well after nine o’clock that evening they all kissed each other on the pavement and exchanged gifts to be opened on Christmas Day, then went their separate ways, all exhausted, yet in a happy frame of mind.

  Once Dotty arrived home she turned the small gas-fire on and was in the process of removing her coat when there was a tap on the door. It was rare for her to have visitors, especially this late at night, and as she hurried to answer it she wondered who it might be. She opened the door to find Miss Timms standing there.

  ‘Hello, what a lovely surprise!’ she said as she ushered the woman into the room. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you until after Christmas, but I’m so glad you’ve come. I have a little gift for you.’

  ‘Oh, you shouldn’t have gone spending your hard-earned money on me,’ Miss Timms scolded her, but she was beaming with pleasure as Dotty closed the door firmly behind her.

  ‘I’ve only just got in,’ Dotty told her now as she went to put the kettle on. ‘It’s been absolute bedlam at the store today. I think every single person in Coventry must have remembered someone they hadn’t got a present for. That’s what it felt like anyway, and the tills haven’t stopped ringing all day. Then when the store finally closed, we had a staff party.’

  ‘It’s always the same on Christmas Eve, and probably even more so this year. Everyone seems intent on having a good time and be damned to what happens tomorrow,’ Miss Timms replied as she took her coat off and folded it over the back of a chair. She then patted her hair to make sure that it was still neatly in place before sitting down and folding her hands primly in her lap.

  ‘So how are you, dear?’ she asked now as her eyes followed Dotty about the room. ‘And have you eaten? I don’t want you neglecting yourself.’

  ‘I tend to have my main meal at work at lunchtime in the works dining room,’ Dotty explained. She grinned then. ‘Actually it’s more of a canteen but it’s much easier than trying to cook anything here. I just tend to make a sandwich when I get in from work, or sometimes I warm a tin of soup up. But how are things at the orphanage? Is everyone well?’

  ‘In actual fact, one of the reasons I came to see you was to er . . . well, it was to tell you that I’ve left the orphanage now.’

  ‘You’ve what?’ Dotty was amazed. As far as she was concerned, Miss Timms was the orphanage and she couldn’t begin to imagine how it would run without her. She had been the only stable person she had ever had in her life, and she was suddenly fearful that if Miss Timms was now no longer a part of that establishment, this might be the last time she would ever see her. The thought was unbelievably frightening: what if she had come to say a last goodbye?

  ‘Have you come to say I won’t be seeing you again then?’ she forced herself to ask, but it came out as a squeak.

  ‘Oh goodness me, no!’ Miss Timms suddenly looked tearful too. ‘Why, I could never abandon you, my dear. I have helped to care for you since you were a very young baby and I . . . Let’s just say I will never leave you.’

  ‘That’s all right then.’ Dotty heaved a sigh of relief as she looked across at the woman’s face. Funnily enough, she had never given it much thought before, but now as she looked she saw that she wasn’t as old as she had always assumed she was. Miss Timms tended to dress very conservatively and that, teamed with her rather out-of-date hairstyle, made her appear older than her years. But now on closer inspection, Dotty thought that she was probably only in her late thirties at most. Definitely too young to have spent all that time locked away with orphans. But then the girl supposed that she must have had her reasons. Perhaps she had been thwarted in love when she was younger? Here I go again, Dotty scolded herself, letting my imagination run away with me!

  ‘In regard to your question as to why I left . . .’ Miss Timms shrugged, which made her appear younger and more vulnerable. ‘I suppose I just decided that I wanted a career change. I missed you a lot when you left, Dotty, so I’ve made a fresh start. I’ve started work in a bank and I’m actually quite enjoying it. It’s certainly different to being at the beck and call of infants and young people.’

  Dotty was deeply touched. No one had ever told her they really cared about her before, which she supposed was what Miss Timms had just done in a roundabout way.

  ‘And so what are you doing tomorrow?’ the woman asked now, clearly embarrassed. ‘I do hope that you won’t be spending Christmas Day alone?’

  ‘Actually, I’m going to spend it with Lucy, my friend from work,’ Dotty said as she poured boiling water into the teapot. ‘What will you be doing?’

  ‘I shall spend the day quietly at home with my mother,’ Miss Timms responded as she fumbled in her handbag. ‘She’s getting quite old now and she’s very set in her ways.’ She handed Dotty a small package, saying, ‘I wasn’t sure what to get you but I hope you like it.’

  ‘Th-thank you.’ Dotty took the present and stared at it before asking, ‘Shall I open it tomorrow?’

  ‘No, you don’t have to wait. You can open it now if you wish,’ Miss Timms told her and so Dotty carefully began to undo the string from the gaily wrapped parcel. The paper was so pretty it seemed a shame to rip it.

  Inside she found an oblong box, and when she opened it she gasped with delight. It contained a beautiful fountain pen that looked very expensive.

  ‘It’s solid silver,’ Miss Timms explained. ‘But if you don’t like it we can always change it. I just thought it might come in handy, knowing how you love to write. I do hope you are still writing?’

  ‘Yes, I am – and yes, it will come in very handy,’ Dotty assured her. ‘And thank you so much. It’s really lovely. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything so precious and you can be sure I’ll treasure it.’ Finally dragging her eyes away from it, she went on, ‘Oh dear, I’m afraid the gifts I have for you aren’t anywhere near as valuable as this.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. It’s the thought that counts.’

  So Dotty hurried away and then handed a small parcel to the woman, who opened it with a look of pure delight on her face. I bet she doesn’t get many people buying her presents, Dotty thought, and it saddened her.

  Miss Timms showed much the same reaction as Dotty had when the gift was finally opened. Dotty had bought her a
pure silk headscarf in lovely autumn colours. It looked very bright and colourful against the drab clothes that the woman was wearing, but she seemed to be over the moon with it.

  ‘Why, it’s gorgeous.’ She ran her hand across the smooth silk with a look of pure pleasure on her face. ‘I must admit I would never have chosen it for myself, since Mother doesn’t like me wearing flamboyant colours, but I really love it. Thank you so much!’

  Dotty then handed over her last gift, saying, ‘I er . . . made this skirt for you myself. I had to guess the size, so I hope it fits. I’m not the best seamstress in the world, I’m afraid, so I won’t be offended if you don’t want to wear it.’

  Intrigued, Miss Timms opened the parcel and then her face lit up again. ‘You made this?’ she said incredulously. ‘Why, Dotty, is there no end to your talents? I really love it and I shall wear it for church tomorrow with my very best blouse.’

  Suddenly Dotty leaned over and pecked her on the cheek and the woman flushed to the very roots of her hair and became all flustered. And then they both laughed and the awkward moment was gone. Miss Timms stayed for another hour, periodically reaching out to stroke the scarf and the skirt, and when she left, Dotty had a warm glow in the pit of her stomach. Bless her, she thought happily. My childhood would have been a lot sadder, had it not been for Miss Timms. She then settled down in front of the little fire and after carefully filling her lovely new pen from a bottle of Quink, she soon became lost in the latest story she was writing. She was attempting her first novel now and loving every minute of it.

  Chapter Eleven

  On Christmas Day bright and early Dotty wrapped up warmly and cycled to Lucy’s house on the bike she had borrowed from one of the neighbours. It was no mean feat on the icy roads. Every time she came to a hill she had to get off and push the bike up it, and by the time she reached Lucy’s home her cheeks were bright red and her fingers were so cold they had turned blue even though she was wearing mittens. She wheeled her bike up the entry and into the little yard at the back as Lucy opened the back door with a smile on her face.