The Bomb Girls' Secrets

by Daisy Styles

  ‘Happy?’ he whispered.

  ‘Never happier,’ she sighed.

  As Gladys retired to the privacy of her room, Ian, Kit and Billy stayed side by side on the sofa, where, warmed by the crackling wood-burning stove, they all fell fast asleep.

  A gentle knock on the door round about ten o’clock woke Ian and Kit, who smiled sleepily as Edna walked in.

  ‘I’ve just come to see your little boy,’ she whispered as she gazed at Billy, with his arms thrown out on either side of him, deeply asleep beside his mother. ‘He’s beautiful,’ she sighed as tears poured down her cheeks.

  Billy yawned, briefly opened his eyes and earnestly fixed his dark penetrating gaze on Edna’s smiling face.

  ‘Hello, mister,’ she said softly. ‘I’m Edna, your godmother!’

  41. Happy Family

  In a single day, Kit’s life had changed forever and for the very best of reasons: she had her son back in her life. After sleeping with him curled up beside her, Kit bathed, dressed and fed Billy early the next morning. Though ecstatically happy, she was nervous and on edge for a variety of reasons, the main one being concern that Billy might have bad memories of where he’d previously been living. Her father would have been thoughtless and brutish with his grandson, but had O’Rourke’s sister been any better? Kit had minutely examined Billy’s body when she’d bathed him and found no cuts or bruises, but she couldn’t forget Mother Gabriel’s words, ‘Billy was a very frightened little boy.’

  Tears stung her eyes. God in heaven, what had her baby been through in the first year of his innocent life? Abandoned by his mother, maltreated by his grandfather, hidden by strangers in Dublin. It seemed to Kit that the only good times Billy could ever have had must have been in the gentle care of Sister Clare at the Sisters of Mercy convent.

  But, for all of Kit’s constant nagging worries, she couldn’t help but laugh along with Gladys, who was trying to help her as she struggled yet again to change Billy’s nappy.

  ‘OUCH!’ Kit yelped as she stuck the nappy pin in her thumb for the second time. ‘Will I ever get used to these damn nappies?’

  Gladys, who was almost as enthralled by Billy as Kit was, laughed in delight as the little boy, happy to be free of his bulky nappy, waved his bare chubby legs in the air.

  ‘Who’s a lovely boy?’ Gladys crooned as she tickled his tummy, reducing him to helpless giggles.

  ‘You’re making it worse!’ Kit laughingly protested.

  Next was the question of food. The milk Gladys had brought for Billy was almost gone but there was enough left to make a bowl of porridge, which he wolfed back.

  ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Gladys exclaimed as she gazed into the empty porridge bowl. ‘He’s got the appetite of a lion!’

  Kit was trying to stem a rising tide of panic. ‘I’ve got to get organized,’ she said firmly. ‘Billy needs clothes and food, a pram, some shoes.’ She stared at Gladys and asked, ‘How am I going to get things for him when I’m supposed to be working?’

  During the few minutes she’d taken her eyes off Billy, he’d stood up and was wobbling and grinning as he clutched the edge of the sofa.

  ‘He’s trying to walk!’ Kit cried in delight as she followed the child around to the back of the sofa, where, with her arms extended, she stood, ready to catch him if he fell. ‘Clever boy!’ she said as she smiled encouragingly at Billy, who looked very pleased with himself.

  Kit briefly left Billy with Gladys so she could wash and change for work. Finally, after Gladys sang ‘Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream’ while sitting on the floor and pretending to row a boat, the girls got out of the house and hurried down the cobbled lane with Billy clasped in Kit’s arms.

  ‘I’d go to see Mr Featherstone right away,’ Gladys advised. ‘And make sure to ask his advice about the Phoenix nursery.’

  Mr Featherstone’s secretary, Marjorie, was as granite-faced as usual, but this time Kit didn’t care. Whilst she waited in the gloomy dark tiled entrance hall, she played games with Billy, who, after his morning exertions, was beginning to show signs of sleepiness.

  ‘I’ve nowhere to lay you down if you fall asleep, darlin’,’ Kit fretted as she cursed herself for not being better prepared. ‘I didn’t even have you this time yesterday,’ she said in wonder to Billy, who yawned widely. ‘What a difference twenty-four hours makes. Now I’m a mammy with big responsibilities!’ she whispered ecstatically to her son.

  When she was allowed into Mr Featherstone’s office, the factory boss was delighted to discover that Kit had finally been reunited with her baby.

  ‘I know that I have to carry on working – and I want to too,’ Kit added hastily. ‘If I could leave Billy in the Phoenix nursery, I could do my shift in the filling shed.’

  Having been told Billy’s tragic story, Mr Featherstone looked from the tired child to the exhausted but very happy mother and shook his head firmly.

  ‘I think you need a couple of days to familiarize yourself with your baby, Miss Murphy,’ he advised kindly. ‘For a child so young, Billy’s seen a lot of changes, and I would think he would benefit from a nice quiet time getting to know his mother.’

  Kit couldn’t believe her ears.

  ‘Really?’ she gasped.

  ‘Just a couple of days,’ Featherstone quickly said. ‘No more than that. Now if I were you, I’d pop over to the nursery right away to see if there are any free places for Billy.’

  Resisting the urge to throw her arms around Mr Featherstone’s neck, Kit gave him a grateful smile. Then, carrying Billy, who was quite a weight, in her arms, she made her way to the nursery, where the matron assured Kit that they had several spare places.

  ‘He could start right away, if you like?’ she suggested.

  ‘I’ll have him with me for a little longer at home,’ Kit explained. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’ll bring him along in a day or two?’

  ‘Well, then, in that case,’ said the cheery matron. ‘I think you might be in need of a pram for the child.’

  Kit carried sleeping Billy to the store shed, where the matron wheeled out a big old Silver Cross pram, in which she arranged a small pillow and some warm blankets.

  ‘He’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug in that,’ the matron joked.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ Kit exclaimed in delight as she settled her son in the pram, then rubbed her arms, which had gone dead from carrying him around for so long.

  Feeling immensely proud, Kit pushed the pram down the hill into Pendleton, where she wheeled a sleeping Billy to the chip shop so that Edna could see her godson in daylight. Edna insisted on Kit’s bringing the pram into the back room, where she was busy simmering peas and butter beans in readiness for the lunchtime opening. Gazing at the peacefully sleeping child, she whispered, ‘He’s the image of his mam!’

  ‘Thank God for that!’ Kit said in genuine relief. ‘You’d hate the sight of his father!’

  ‘How are you feeling, sweetheart?’ Edna asked as she handed Kit a mug of hot tea.

  ‘I’ve never been happier,’ Kit assured her with a radiant smile. ‘But I was just telling Gladys I’ve got to be more organized. Billy needs food and clothes, but I don’t know where to start,’ she admitted.

  Edna quickly checked the clock on the wall, then turned the heat off underneath the peas and beans. ‘Come on,’ she said as she threw off her pinafore. ‘I’ve got an hour before opening time.’ Grabbing the pram handle before Kit could, Edna said almost shyly, ‘Can I push Billy to the shops?’

  Realizing that Edna had probably never pushed her own little girl around town, Kit instantly nodded.

  ‘With pleasure,’ she answered softly.

  On the way to the shops, Kit told Edna that Billy hadn’t got a ration book.

  ‘Then you’d better send off for one,’ Edna advised. ‘Otherwise Billy won’t get the free cod-liver oil and concentrated orange juice he’s entitled to.’

  With her meagre ration stamps, Kit got lots of milk, a few eggs,
two ounces of butter and a small slice of cheese.

  ‘This will do for now,’ she said. ‘I can pick up food for Billy in the canteen once I’m back at work.’

  ‘Have you any bread?’ Edna asked.

  Kit nodded.

  ‘Then toast some for him: let it go hard so he can suck it. He’s got teeth coming through and he’ll need to gnaw on something,’ Edna chuckled.

  There wasn’t a baby shop as such in Pendleton, but there was a second-hand shop, and Kit bought Billy some little winceyette pyjamas that needed a few patches, a pair of woolly leggings, socks and some vests.

  ‘He could do with some shoes,’ she said.

  ‘Leave that till you go into Manchester,’ Edna advised. ‘He’ll have to do with warm socks for the time being.’

  After saying a hurried goodbye to Edna, who gave Billy a kiss on the cheek before they left, Kit all but ran back to the cowshed. The day flew by in a whirl of new activities, at the end of which Kit was almost seeing double. She was relieved when Gladys came home from work and started to play with Billy, who held out his arms to her.

  ‘Glad, Glad,’ he burbled.

  ‘He’s a quick learner,’ Gladys said as she rolled on to her back and held Billy high in the air, where she jiggled him whilst he giggled and squeaked with excitement.

  ‘Thank God you’re home! I’m gasping for a fag!’ Kit exclaimed.

  The routine was just as it had been the night before, but this time neither girl was as nervy as she had been; in fact Kit impressed Gladys with her new-found skills – after changing nappies all day she’d become quite proficient.

  ‘I’ve not seen you prick your finger with a nappy pin recently,’ Gladys teased.

  ‘It’s all down to practice,’ Kit retorted as she undressed Billy in readiness for bed. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever stop revelling in his strong little body,’ she confessed to Gladys. ‘It’s a joy to see how fit and healthy he is.’

  ‘Given the hardships of his early life, I’d say it’s nothing short of a miracle that he’s so hale and hearty,’ Gladys exclaimed.

  Kit decided she’d let Billy sleep in his pram. Though she longed to hold him close all night, she instinctively knew he had to get used to sleeping on his own, and she would only be a few feet away if he woke up in the night. After his bottle and being rocked to sleep with an Irish lullaby, the one that Kit’s mam had always sung to her as a baby, Kit lowered the heavy-eyed child into his pram.

  ‘PHEWWWW!’ she sighed wearily as she joined Gladys by the wood-burning stove, where she contentedly lit up a Woodbine.

  ‘Nora and Maggie are dying to meet Billy,’ Gladys told her. ‘Wool’s so hard to come by that Myrtle’s unpicked one of her own cardigans so she can knit Billy a jumper.’

  Touched by Myrtle’s kindness, Kit said fondly, ‘It’s kind of her to sacrifice her own cardigan for Billy.’

  ‘Violet and Arthur are due back from their honeymoon tomorrow,’ Gladys reminded Kit.

  ‘Of course!’ she exclaimed. ‘With everything else going on I’d forgotten when they were coming home.’

  ‘They’re in for a shock when they see Billy,’ said Gladys with a smile.

  ‘We’ll be a full house,’ Kit giggled. ‘Arthur sharing a room with Vi until they find their own place and Billy sleeping with me.’

  ‘Happy days,’ said Gladys contentedly.

  When the honeymooners returned, they were flabbergasted to find a baby in the house. They stared in wonder at the sturdy little boy, who was clinging to the legs of the living room table as he attempted yet again to make his way around the room. Violet hunkered down so she was on the same level as Billy.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you at long last.’

  Billy gurgled as he reached out to grab the pretty diamanté earrings which Arthur had bought for his wife during their stay in Blackpool.

  ‘We had a wonderful time,’ Violet sighed dreamily as she drank the tea Kit had brewed for them. ‘I didn’t want to come home,’ she added as she threw Arthur a look of sheer adoration.

  Seeing Arthur and Violet so in love made Kit think of Ian, whom she hadn’t seen since Billy’s arrival; they’d agreed that for the time being at least Billy was the priority and it would be wise to concentrate solely on settling him into his new life. It had been the right decision to put Billy first, but seeing Violet and Arthur glowing with happiness made Kit yearn for Ian.

  When Gladys came home from her shift, they ate mashed potatoes, baked beans and the smoked kippers that Violet had brought from Blackpool. Kit mixed some of the food in a small bowl for Billy and again he demolished his supper in no time.

  ‘He’s a big growing lad!’ Arthur said as he watched Billy try to feed himself some stewed apples that Kit had prepared earlier.

  ‘He goes to the Phoenix nursery tomorrow,’ Kit told the Leadbetters. ‘I’m dreading leaving him,’ she admitted.

  ‘They’ll take good care of him,’ Violet assured her. ‘And he’ll enjoy playing with the other children,’ she added as she gave Kit’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

  Kit visibly brightened at Violet’s words. ‘He’s probably not played with many other children,’ she said thoughtfully.

  ‘With that cheeky smile of his, he’ll have them all running around in circles,’ Arthur joked as he helped Billy finish off the last bits of his apple pudding.

  The next morning, Kit was up at six in order to make sure she could do all her jobs and sort out Billy before she left for work. Bouncing the pram down the track, she parted ways with Violet and Gladys, who went to clock on. Kit made her way to the nursery, which had big French windows that opened on to a sunny courtyard, where the babies were taken in their prams during nap time.

  When Kit took Billy from his snug pram, she couldn’t stop herself from protectively hugging him close, but Billy seemed to have no anxieties. Squeaking excitedly, he reached out to the other children, who were crawling and rolling around the nursery floor.

  ‘I think he wants to play,’ the nursery nurse in charge remarked as Billy excitedly tottered over to his new friends and their toys. ‘Off you go,’ she said cheerily to Kit, who was hovering in the background. ‘We’ll see you at the end of your shift.’

  Feeling like she’d been dismissed, Kit took one last look at her son, then ran to join her friends in the filling shed.

  Kit automatically tapped gunpowder into fuse cases, all the time wondering what Billy would be doing. Maggie, Nora and Myrtle were keen to hear how he was.

  ‘Tell us all about him!’ they said when they gathered in the canteen at midday.

  ‘He’s so lovely, and always hungry!’ Kit laughed. ‘I still can’t believe it,’ she admitted. ‘Having him back after all this time – it’s like a miracle.’

  Her friends exchanged relieved glances: the fearful shadows that had always lurked in Kit’s lovely Irish eyes had finally gone.

  Towards the end of their dinner break, Gladys said, ‘Now that we’re all sort of back to normal, I really do think we need to start rehearsing again.’

  ‘Quite,’ said Myrtle briskly. ‘Especially as we shall soon be expected to entertain guests at the Savoy.’

  ‘It’s not a problem,’ Maggie said with a flippant wave of her hand. ‘We can play all our favourite numbers.’

  ‘But we still need to rehearse them,’ Gladys reminded her. ‘We’ve barely played together since Violet’s wedding.’

  Kit’s stomach dropped. What would she do with Billy when she was rehearsing with the band? As if reading her thoughts, Gladys turned to her and said, ‘I’m sure Edna or Ian will keep an eye on Billy whilst you’re rehearsing.’ Then she turned to Violet with a teasing smile. ‘I’m sure Arthur can spare you for an hour or two once a week.’

  Violet burst out laughing. ‘It’s more a question of whether I can spare him!’ she joked.

  And so it was arranged: even though their lives were busier than ever, they would start regular rehearsals once again in
readiness for their swing band show in London.

  42. Bridesmaids and Bomb Girls

  As days slipped into weeks, a pattern, built around Billy’s growing needs and Kit’s relentless shift work, developed. When Kit was working nights with Gladys and Violet, Ian looked after Billy, who Kit put to bed at seven o’clock so that she and Ian could snatch a few hours together before she headed off to the Phoenix. Alone in the cowshed, Ian usually read the Manchester Evening News by the crackling wood-burner with his ear half cocked as he listened out for Billy’s snuffles and whimpers. He loved to watch the little boy as he slept, so content and relaxed, his mouth closed in a soft pout which vividly reminded Ian of Kit’s lovely mouth; his long eyelashes fluttering as he dreamt, his arms thrown in wild abandon, and his bedclothes kicked off as he wriggled around in the new cot which Ian had insisted on buying for him.

  Billy would be always wide awake by six o’clock every morning, standing up in his cot, calling out to Ian, who slept in Kit’s bed, which was beside the cot.

  ‘Hello, little lad!’ Ian would say as, rather bleary-eyed, he rose to start the busy morning routine.

  By the time Kit came home from work, Billy would be changed, washed and fed. After giving Ian and her son a big hug, Kit would reluctantly wave them goodbye before falling into bed, exhausted by her long night shift. Singing nursery rhymes, Ian would drive Billy to the Phoenix nursery, where, later in the day, Kit would him pick and take him home for tea.

  Billy was in the nursery during Kit’s daytime shifts; it was only when she worked nights that Ian was called on to help out, but those intimate evenings alone with Billy forged Ian’s relationship with the child, whom he grew to love as his own.

  It was in the middle of one of her night shifts that Kit had an unexpected allergic reaction to a new batch of gunpowder. She’d been fine at first, but gradually the sneezing started and at one point her eyes were streaming so badly that she was sent home from work.

  ‘It’s never happened before,’ she told Malc, who was supervising her shift.