The Bomb Girls' Secrets

by Daisy Styles

  ‘If it’s Coventry he’s taken her to,’ Arthur grimly pointed out.

  Imagining dark cellars and abandoned sheds in the middle of nowhere, Edna shuddered. ‘Maybe we should have gone to the police after all,’ she added guiltily.

  ‘And tell them WHAT?’ Arthur reasoned. ‘Violet was driven away by her husband?’ He shook his head. ‘They’d laugh in your face – there’s nothing the law can do about a man taking his wife home.’

  Worried and weary with all kinds of hideous thoughts whirling around inside their heads, the two of them finally dozed off in Edna’s comfy armchairs. When the phone shrilled out, Edna grabbed it.

  ‘Yes?’ she gasped.

  ‘It’s Ian.’

  Edna held out the phone so Arthur could listen in too.

  ‘We followed them to an area called Edgwick, to the house where he’s holding Violet. I’m phoning from a newsagent’s shop just around the corner.’ Ian sighed heavily as he added, ‘We saw him dragging Violet into the house a few hours ago.’

  ‘Sweet Jesus!’ Arthur exclaimed.

  ‘I left Kit keeping an eye on the property whilst I made this phone call,’ he added.

  ‘Won’t he catch sight of Kit standing guard in her munitions overalls?’ Arthur asked sharply.

  ‘She got rid of those almost as soon as we left Stockport,’ Ian told him. ‘She’s wearing an old raincoat of mine. Look,’ he added anxiously, ‘I need to get back to her.’

  ‘We’ve been wondering about telling the police,’ Edna told him quickly. ‘The longer she’s with him the more at risk she is.’

  ‘I agree,’ Ian retorted. ‘But, seeing as we’re here now, we’ll wait for a few hours in the hope that he’ll go out, at which point we’ll break in and hopefully rescue Violet.’

  ‘What’s the address?’ Arthur asked before Ian put down the phone.

  ‘No. 6, Streatfield Avenue, Edgwick.’

  Arthur immediately wrote down the address.

  ‘I can’t bear this hanging about – I’m going to drive down there right away,’ he announced.

  ‘I’d advise you to wait a little longer, Arthur.’

  ‘He could be beating the living daylights out of the poor kid!’ Arthur all but yelled down the phone.

  ‘Kit and I have to come back at some point: we’re sailing to Ireland and I’ve a lot to sort out before we leave. If we’re not back by eight tonight, then by all means drive down here and take over the watch from us.’

  ‘Okay,’ Arthur reluctantly agreed.

  Standing shivering in Ian’s thin raincoat, Kit double-knotted his scarf around her neck and was instantly comforted by the familiar smell of the lavender soap he used. With her heart clamouring in her ribcage, Kit remained concealed behind a thick hedge while Ian phoned Edna, just as she’d promised him. Peering out, she looked furtively towards the house that they’d seen poor Violet entering in the middle of the night.

  ‘Holy Mother and all the saints,’ she prayed, ‘look after my sweet dear friend. Please don’t let him hurt her, please protect her from harm.’

  So deep in prayer was Kit that she jumped when a car went by at top speed. Obscured by the foliage, she managed to peep through a gap in the hedge and saw that the car was Ronnie’s big Bentley.

  ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ she gasped.

  As soon as the Bentley disappeared around the corner, Kit, with wings on her feet, flew down the length of the street. Terrified of being seen by neighbours, she dashed to the back of the house, where she threw herself at the door and pummelled it with her small fists. When nobody replied, she paused to press her ear to it – holding her breath she was sure she could hear a low grunting noise. Frantic, she looked up to see a narrow kitchen window. Grabbing a shovel that was leaning against the coalhole wall, she stood on an upturned bucket and smashed the window, then opened it by lifting the internal catch. Squeezing in through broken shards of glass, Kit was oblivious to the cuts on her arms and legs. When she jumped off the kitchen worktop, she all but landed on Violet, gagged and trussed up like a chicken on the floor. Bruised and bleeding, Violet lay in her underwear, with her corset and chemise knickers on the floor beside her. When Kit saw the underwear cast aside, her heart skipped a beat – could Ronnie have had his way with Violet after he’d tied her up in the kitchen?

  ‘ARGHHHHH!’ Violet cried through her gag when she saw Kit.

  Grabbing a knife, Kit quickly cut Violet free, all the time murmuring soothing words. ‘All right, darlin’, all right, I’ve got you now, shhh, shhh …’

  But Violet was hysterical with fear. ‘He’ll be back!’ she cried hoarsely. ‘He only left to drop off stuff to his mate in town. He’ll be back and he’ll kill the pair of us.’

  ‘We’ll bloody see about that,’ Kit said through gritted teeth as she led her limping, weeping friend to the back door, which she unlocked and then gently guided Violet outside.

  Thinking fast, Kit knew it wouldn’t be wise to walk back up the street – apart from snoopy neighbours, Ronnie might catch sight of them on his way home. Standing in the back garden, Kit peered around for somewhere to hide. At the back of the row of houses she spotted an Anderson shelter, which seemed to her too obvious a hiding place, but it was surrounded by sprawling allotments. Half dragging trembling Violet, she made her way to the allotments, where under cover of bushes and fruit trees she pushed her friend under a cold frame, which was musky with the smell of tomato plants. Thanking God they were both on the slim side, she pushed Violet inside then squeezed in beside her. Violet’s nose wrinkled as she inhaled the heavy smell of compost.

  ‘For God’s sake, don’t sneeze!’ Kit hissed.

  Meanwhile Ian had returned to the hedge where he’d left Kit keeping an eye on the house. As he pulled up in his Ford, he did a stunned double-take. Where was she? Where had she gone? In a flash he realized what might have happened. She would only have left their prearranged spot for a good reason: Ronnie must have driven away and Kit had seized the moment to get into the house. As the large Bentley with scowling Ronnie at the wheel came roaring back into the avenue, Ian broke into a sweat of fear.

  ‘Oh, God!’ he muttered.

  27. Edgwick

  When Gladys, Maggie and Nora clocked in at the Phoenix the following afternoon, they were met by cheers and applause. Seeing their tear-stained weary faces, the applause faded away as their co-workers crowded round to inquire what was wrong.

  ‘You won the final: we read about it in the morning papers.’

  ‘You’re on your way to London!’

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘You look like you’ve lost a tenner and found a fiver!’

  Having agreed on a story with Myrtle, Nora and Maggie, stony-faced Gladys explained as best she could. ‘Violet had an accident: she fell off the stage. She’s in hospital; Kit went with her.’

  After sympathies were offered, the girls managed to slip into the ladies’, where they snatched a word in private.

  ‘No word from Edna,’ Gladys said before anybody asked.

  ‘Christ!’ gasped over-imaginative Nora. ‘Violet could be dead and buried by now.’

  Gladys glared at her. ‘Stop that, Nora!’ she cried.

  ‘I still think we should have gone straight to the police,’ Maggie maintained.

  Myrtle nodded, this time in agreement with Maggie. ‘We might have to soon.’

  ‘Let’s get this shift over with, then, if Edna doesn’t show up, we’ll go down to her chip shop,’ Gladys suggested.

  Malc, who hadn’t been able to attend the final due to shifts he couldn’t swop, wasn’t so easy to fob off.

  ‘What the ’ell’s going on, Glad?’ he asked as he passed through the filling shed. ‘I’ve got two lasses off and bloody Arthur’s not showed up. You’ve got a face as long as a fiddle, them two kids on’t cordite line keep skrikin’, and Myrtle looks like she’s been up all night.’

  Sick with fear, Gladys blurted out the whole horrible story.

 
‘Jesus Christ!’ he gasped.

  ‘Arthur’s with Edna. We’re all praying that Ian or Kit will phone her. They MUST know something by now – it’s been well over fourteen hours since it happened,’ she added frantically.

  Malc dropped his voice to a husky whisper. ‘I’ll jump in’t car when it’s mi break and nip down to Edna’s.’

  Gladys’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Malc, it would be such a relief if you could talk to her,’ she said with a catch in her voice.

  Malc returned as the hooter sounded the end of the break. He hurried up to the girls, who were on the point of leaving the canteen; his grim expression said it all.

  Crouching in the cold frame, Kit’s heart raced as she saw Ronnie come roaring out of the back door of his house. Incandescent with fury, he shouted as he threw open the shed door.

  ‘I’ll bloody kill you when I find you, bitch!’

  As he raced towards the Anderson shelter, Kit lay almost on top of trembling Violet to smother her sobs. Popping up to peep through the leafy plants, she saw Ronnie come running out of the Anderson shelter; then she ducked down as he headed into the allotment. Seeing only sprawling vegetation all around him, Ronnie turned around and raced back to the house.

  ‘Has he gone?’ Violet whispered as she came up for air.

  ‘I think so,’ Kit answered.

  ‘Shall we make a run for it?’ frantic Violet asked.

  Kit shook her head. ‘We can’t risk it; he might drive around the neighbourhood searching for us.’

  Sitting in his car, pretending to read a road map, Ian watched Ronnie drive his Bentley slowly up the street, peering from left to right and checking every garden he passed. As he furtively watched, Ian realized with relief that Ronnie couldn’t have found the girls inside the house – otherwise why would he be searching the area? Waiting until Ronnie had cruised into the next street and was well out of sight, Ian started up his Ford and drove down the back streets in search of Kit and Violet. When the girls crouching in the cold frame heard the sound of an approaching car, their blood ran cold.

  ‘He’s come back,’ Violet gasped.

  Holding her tightly to stifle her sobs, Kit shivered in terror as she heard a car door slam close by, then the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer and closer.

  ‘I’ll stay with you, Vi,’ Kit promised. ‘No matter what happens I swear I’ll never leave you.’

  Crouching in order to avoid being seen, Ian crept passed the back gardens of the houses, then stopped short when he saw a shattered kitchen window flung wide open. Desperately hoping that Kit and Violet might be near, he called softly, ‘KIT! KIT! Are you there?’

  Hearing his voice, Kit leapt like a Jack-in-a-box from the cold frame.

  ‘IAN!’ she cried.

  ‘SHHH!’ he whispered as she ran into his arms. ‘We’ve got to get Violet away quickly.’ Looking around, he asked, ‘Where is she?’

  ‘I’ll get her,’ said Kit.

  He nodded towards his car by the Anderson shelter. ‘Get her into the car – I’ll cover for you.’

  Kit had to persuade Violet to come out of her hiding place. ‘It’s not Ronnie – it’s Ian! Come on, quickly, run!’

  Grabbing her by the hand, she dragged Violet across the allotments, then shoved her into the back of the Ford.

  ‘Get down on the floor and stay there,’ Kit whispered as she crouched low in the passenger footwell.

  ‘Drive!’ she cried to Ian. ‘For the love of God, get us out of here.’

  Ian stuck to the narrow back streets until they were well out of the Edgwick area, then he joined the busy traffic on the main road north. In all that time none of them dared speak. Ian’s eyes were constantly on his wing mirror, watching out for a big Bentley hot on his tail. When they finally cleared Stoke, he slumped back in his seat.

  ‘I think it’s safe to come and sit beside me, Catherine – and for God’s sake please light me a cigarette.’

  Kit slipped into the passenger seat, where she lit up cigarettes for both of them.

  ‘How did you know where we were?’ she asked.

  ‘I didn’t!’ he exclaimed. ‘When I saw Ronnie driving up and down the streets clearly searching, I assumed Violet had escaped. Once Ronnie was out of sight, I came looking for you,’ he added.

  ‘Thank Jesus you did,’ she murmured as she inhaled deeply on her cigarette. ‘I couldn’t have gone much further with Violet; he’s beaten her badly.’ Then she added in a whisper, ‘I think he’s interfered with her too.’

  ‘The despicable brute!’ Ian seethed.

  As tears stung the back of Kit’s dark brooding eyes, she murmured, ‘I always knew she had a secret – it takes one to know one – but I never imagined anything as terrible as Ronnie.’

  Keeping his eyes on the road ahead Ian asked, ‘Does Violet know your secret?’

  ‘No …’ Kit replied. ‘But now everybody knows hers.’

  Worried that Violet might have overheard her, Kit peered over the back of her seat: her heart contracted with pity when she saw Violet rolled into a tight ball, fast asleep on the back seat. Removing the raincoat she was wearing, Kit gently laid it over Violet.

  ‘Sleep, darlin’,’ she whispered tenderly. ‘We’ll be home soon.’

  28. Consequences

  After her safe return to Pendleton, Violet could not bear to be left on her own. The wounds that Ronnie had inflicted – on her neck, face, thighs and chest – slowly healed, but her mind didn’t. She was haunted by the thought that Ronnie would find her and take her back to Coventry, where her life of torture as his abused wife would continue.

  ‘How would he know where to find you?’ Edna asked as she, Arthur, Gladys and Kit gathered around the sofa, where Violet lay with her head resting on a pillow.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Violet retorted.

  Edna snapped her fingers with a loud click. ‘In the ballroom in Stockport.’

  Gladys threw up her hands as the penny dropped. ‘Of course!’ she cried. ‘The manager’s introduction – “The Bomb Girls from the Phoenix Munitions Factory in Pendleton”. Violet’s right: Ronnie knows exactly where to find her.’

  ‘He could be outside, watching me right now!’ Violet cried as she jumped up and rushed to the window that looked out on to the moors, soft and luminous in the sunset’s light.

  ‘Darling, darling,’ soothed Arthur as he gently took her in his arms. ‘If Ronnie were out there, don’t you think he would have thrown a brick through the window or kicked the door down by now?’ he said as he gently teased her.

  Violet’s face visibly relaxed. ‘Yes, you’re right: throwing a brick through the window is Ronnie’s kind of calling card,’ she said as she clutched Arthur tightly. ‘But he could come sneaking up here, and he’s always armed.’ She paled as she imagined him drawing a flick knife. ‘He would kill me if he found me again, I know he would.’

  Arthur held her close and kissed her forehead. ‘He’d have to kill me first, sweetheart.’

  Gladys and Kit exchanged a knowing look: though Arthur could calm Violet down, they all knew she was at risk. Gladys had even talked of police protection, but, as Arthur had pointed out many times, the law can’t prevent a man from searching for his wife; and even if Violet pleaded that she was a victim of domestic violence, this would have to be proven to the law. Arthur was virtually living in the cowshed these days, sleeping on Violet’s bedroom floor or on the sofa in the sitting room. Though she wasn’t fit enough for work, Violet was so terrified of being left on her own that she accompanied Arthur and her friends to the Phoenix, where she lay on a makeshift camp bed in the factory’s first-aid room whilst Arthur and her friends worked their shifts.

  As Ian finalized all the paperwork he needed to present to Mother Gabriel and Mr O’Rourke, her legal adviser, Kit happily packed her suitcase and counted down the days till she’d see her little boy. Unfortunately, worry for Violet slightly marred her joy – although she pressed her new dress and buffed up her brogues, worr
y about Violet’s delicate frame of mind was never far from her thoughts. And she wasn’t the only one who was worried. One evening, after Violet had gone to bed, Arthur announced to her anxious friends, ‘We’ve got to move: she’s on a knife edge all the time, waiting for the swine to turn up.’ Arthur swiped a hand across his brow. ‘She’s hardly eating, barely sleeping and when she does she has nightmares. Her screams are terrible; she’s always begging him to leave her alone, to stop hurting her.’ Arthur put his head in his hands. ‘I can’t bear to see her this way a minute longer.’

  ‘If she carries on the way she is, she’ll have a breakdown,’ Edna said grimly.

  ‘I love her too much to let that happen,’ Arthur retorted.

  ‘Where will you go?’ Kit asked.

  ‘Another munitions factory miles away from here.’

  ‘I still don’t know why she never told us,’ Gladys said, puzzled. ‘I wouldn’t have cared less if she was married – why keep it a secret?’

  ‘She was on the run, poor kid,’ Arthur said compassionately. ‘She probably thought the fewer people who knew about her past, the better.’

  Kit’s heartbeat quickened; her friends might ask the same thing of her one day very soon. Why had she not revealed her secret? Was it the shame of having had an illegitimate child and abandoning him? They might ask, and she would answer, no, she felt no shame, just joy, especially now when they were so soon to be reunited. She’d tell them the truth: that she’d been forced against all her instincts to leave her baby to provide for her family. She took some comfort from the fact that on her return she would be free to tell her friends the truth and finally there would be no more secrets between them.

  ‘Do you remember what Violet was like when she first came here?’ Arthur said with a fond smile. ‘Like a hen on hot bricks! I couldn’t look at her without her taking flight.’

  ‘No wonder,’ Gladys replied gloomily.

  ‘I just fell head over heels in love with her,’ he confessed. ‘Her sweet shy face, her lovely sad eyes – oh, she was worth fighting for,’ he added with a tender smile. ‘But now it’s my job to keep her safe and get her as far away from the Phoenix as possible.’