by Daisy Styles
‘Best get yerself out of ’ere – if you carry on sneezing the way you are, you’ll blow all the bloody gunpowder in’t factory out of’t window!’ he joked.
As Kit hurried home, she marvelled at the clarity of the stars speckling the sky over the dark moors. The fresh breeze cleared her nose and throat, and she began to breathe more easily. The cowshed was in darkness when she stepped inside, and before she settled down on the old sofa Kit peeped into her bedroom, where first she looked at Billy, fast asleep on his side; then she turned to Ian, dead to the world in her bed. Looking tenderly at Ian’s tousled hair and strong muscular chest, which she could clearly see underneath his loose pyjama top, Kit had an overwhelming urge to lie down beside him. Throwing aside her coat and shoes, she slipped into bed, where she curled up in the softness of his embrace. Still deeply asleep, Ian’s response to her was completely unrestrained. Pulling her close to his body, he murmured softly as he ran his hands under her hair, then along the line of her neck and down to her breasts. Kit gasped at his touch: her whole body felt on fire as she responded to his caresses. Pressing herself against him, she almost swooned as his hands slid down her thighs. Suddenly Billy, in the grip of a nightmare, squawked loudly, and Ian stumbled from the bed, barely registering Kit he rushed to soothe the little boy.
‘Shhh, darling, I’m here, shhh,’ he whispered as he settled Billy back to sleep.
Looking dazed, he joined Kit on the bed. ‘Catherine,’ he murmured, ‘I dreamt I was making love to you.’
Folding herself into his body, Kit giggled. ‘If Billy hadn’t woken you up, it might have been more than a dream.’
Looking serious, Ian said, ‘We need to talk.’
Taking hold of Kit’s hand, he led her into the sitting room, where he rekindled the fire whilst Kit made a pot of tea. When they were sitting comfortably on the sofa, smoking cigarettes and drinking hot tea, Ian took a deep breath and began.
‘I’ve loved you almost from the moment I laid eyes on you, and I vowed as I fell more and more in love with you that I would never take advantage of your innocence.’
Kit shook her head as she protested, ‘Darling, it was ME taking advantage of YOU just then!’ she pointed out.
Looking shocked, Ian said, ‘Don’t say that, sweetheart.’
‘But it’s true,’ she insisted. ‘I was sent home from work because I was ill. You looked so sweet sleeping peacefully in my bed; it was as natural as breathing to lie down beside you. I feel no shame, Ian,’ she said with dignity. ‘I love you and I always will do.’
‘Which is why, Catherine, I want to marry you!’ he blurted out.
‘Marry me?’ she gasped as she shook her head. ‘What will your respectable family say when they find out that your wife-to-be has an illegitimate child?’
Ian stopped her with a deep kiss. ‘Nothing,’ he replied. ‘Especially after I introduce Billy as my own adopted son.’
Knocked sideways, Kit gasped, ‘You want to adopt Billy?’
‘I certainly do!’ Ian answered with tears in his warm hazel eyes. ‘I would cherish him as much as I cherish you, my darling.’
Moved to tears, Kit herself planted kisses on his smiling mouth as she cried, ‘YES. YES. YES!’ And with each ‘yes’ she gave him more kisses, then lay against him in a daze of happiness. ‘How can this be happening to me?’ she murmured incredulously.
Tired out by each other’s kisses and declarations of love, they slept on the sofa, locked together, until Billy woke them up in the morning.
Once Ian had proposed to Kit there was no holding him back. As they wheeled Billy to nursery the following morning, he announced excitedly, ‘I want a BIG wedding!’
‘In church,’ she said firmly.
He nodded as he laughingly added, ‘You’ll be dressed from top to toe in white satin, carrying red roses and wearing a mile-long lace veil!’
Kit smiled in delight at the thought of being dressed like a romantic princess on her wedding day.
‘I’ll have four bridesmaids – Violet, Gladys, Nora and Maggie – and Myrtle will play our wedding music.’
‘We’ll have a long honeymoon, and Billy will soon have lots of brothers and sisters!’ Ian declared.
Gripping the pram handle tightly, Kit gazed up at him. ‘Our children!’
‘Yes!’ Ian exclaimed as he lifted Billy out of the pram and danced down the lane with him. ‘Friends for Billy to play with!’
Kit stared after the man she loved and the baby she adored. Could life get any better than this, she wondered.
Kit’s spring wedding plans had a very convenient knock-on effect for the Bomb Girls’ trip to London.
‘Your bridesmaids’ dresses can double up as ballgowns for our appearance at the Savoy,’ she told her friends as she showed them the silky blue fabric she’d chosen and an illustration of the dress style which she’d cut out of a magazine. ‘Long flowing gowns with a low neck and elegant dropped sleeves.’ Ian had, as usual, been very generous, and their wedding budget was large.
‘We’ll do it only once,’ he’d joked.
‘Please God!’ she laughed.
‘So don’t stint on things, my darling,’ he said as he’d kissed her several times over. ‘I want the world to know my bride and her entourage are the fairest in the land!’
‘You make it sound like a fairy-tale,’ Kit giggled.
‘It is a fairy-tale,’ he’d retorted with happiness in his eyes.
‘Won’t Ian mind us wearing our dresses ahead of the wedding?’ Violet asked.
‘He said as long as you don’t spill a pint of beer down the front, he doesn’t mind at all,’ Kit replied with a smile.
Myrtle eyed the dress pattern and the silky silver-blue fabric suspiciously.
‘I hope you aren’t expecting me to wear such a young colour?’ she said stiffly. ‘The expression “Mutton dressed as lamb” springs to mind!’
‘No, Myrtle!’ Kit laughed. ‘But I could have a pretty stole made up for you in the same fabric as our dresses – that would be nice, wouldn’t it?’
Myrtle smiled in approval. ‘That would be most appropriate,’ she replied.
Maggie and Nora, who had been longing for a ballgown since the band formed months ago, were eager to have their fittings with the dressmaker in Pendleton.
‘Oooh, at last!’ Maggie cried rapturously. ‘Elegant ballgowns for the Savoy!’
‘I’m not sure we should abandon our Bomb Girls overalls,’ Gladys remarked. ‘They brought us luck in all our performances, and the audiences always loved them.’
Violet, who agreed with Gladys, said, ‘We could wear both.’
‘How?’ Nora asked.
‘We could start off as Bomb Girls, then change halfway through the evening,’ Violet explained.
Pleased with her idea, the girls nodded; as Myrtle succinctly put it, ‘It doesn’t feel like we’re abandoning our roots that way.’
With December looming, the band’s rehearsal sessions increased; whenever they could play together, they did. After several heated discussions, they decided to play their winning numbers from all of their public performances. Gladys ran down the list she’d put together.
‘ “Yours Till the Stars Lose Their Glory”, “ ‘PEnnsylvania 6-5000”, “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B” and “In the Mood”. Agreed?’
‘Agreed!’ came the joint response.
‘And if they want an encore?’ Kit asked.
‘An encore at the Savoy – we should be so lucky!’ Maggie giggled.
‘We’ve got loads of songs in our repertoire,’ Gladys replied confidently.
They all stopped chatting when they heard a resounding bang-bang from Kit’s bass drum. Everybody turned in puzzled amazement to Kit, who was sitting comfortably in one of the chapel pews.
‘Who’s playing?’ Violet asked.
‘Well, obviously not me!’ Kit giggled.
Billy’s little face popped out from behind Kit’s drum kit.
‘Bang
! Bang! Mama!’ he gurgled.
Kit’s face broke into a big smile. ‘Little monkey!’ she cried as she ran towards her son. ‘I can’t take my eyes off you for a minute,’ she said as she lifted him up and planted a big kiss on his ruddy red cheek.
‘He’s going to be a drummer, just like his mama!’ Maggie remarked as she too kissed the enchanting little boy they all spoilt rotten.
‘Let’s get started!’ Gladys called. ‘Otherwise we’ll be here all night.’
Picking up her sax, she ran her fingers deftly up and down the silver valves. ‘ “PEnnsylvania” first, followed by “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy”.’
Halfway through ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’, Gladys was singing to Maggie’s trumpet accompaniment when she thought she heard a second trumpet playing. Stopping abruptly, she looked around in confusion. Maggie was equally confused.
‘Who else is playing the trumpet?’ Maggie asked.
Gladys turned very pale. The trumpet music was identical to what Les used to play when he’d accompanied her on the sax; it was their favourite duet, and the very thought of it brought tears to her eyes.
Trying to regain her composure, she shook her head to clear her thoughts, but the music persisted.
‘What’s going on?’ she cried.
In answer, the door opened and, to her utter astonishment, the very brother she’d just been thinking about walked in blasting on his trumpet. Not missing, not dead, but very much alive and well. Gasping with shock, Gladys’s legs buckled underneath her and she fell to the ground with a loud cry. ‘LES!’
Seeing his sister in a crumpled heap, Les quickly laid down his trumpet and rushed to her side.
‘Glad! Don’t cry,’ he begged. ‘Please don’t cry.’
Unable to believe her eyes, Gladys ran her hands incredulously over his smiling happy face.
‘You’re alive!’
Les nodded. ‘I made it out, Sis, I came home.’
It was only as Les helped her to her feet that Gladys saw Captain Trevor Horrocks standing by the doorway.
‘You brought him here?’ she said gratefully.
Looking rather self-conscious to find himself amongst so many women who were all staring at him, Horrocks gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Just gave the chap a lift,’ he replied nonchalantly.
Sensing that brother and sister would want to spend some private time together, Myrtle started to discreetly usher the band out of the chapel.
‘These are my friends,’ Gladys said proudly. ‘The Bomb Girls’ Swing Band!’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Les replied, grinning cheerfully as the girls passed him by.
‘Very pleased to meet you,’ gushed Maggie, who was clearly taken by the handsome young lad with the same brilliant blue eyes as his sister’s.
Throwing her arms around her brother, Gladys hugged him tightly. ‘Let’s go to the Phoenix bar – I want to hear everything that happened to you.’
Sitting between Trevor Horrocks and her brother in the small bar, Gladys listened wide-eyed to Les’s escape story.
‘Jerry marched us along the road, don’t ask me where, I’ve no idea. We were in a long straggly column, long enough for the guards to be quite a distance away, so me and my mate, Bernie, we took one look at each other, then bunked over the wall that ran along the roadside. We ran like hell, for miles and miles, and when we couldn’t run no further we were terrified of being spotted in our uniforms, so we hid in a cabbage field. God, what a stink!’
Gladys burst out laughing at Les’s disgusted expression, but she quickly grew serious as he continued.
‘We came out of hiding when it was dark and walked through the night. We were doing all right until we came across some Germans manning a roadside barricade. Bernie pushed me into a ditch and told me to stay put. I crawled through some long grass by the roadside, where I saw the Germans drive off with Bernie in a truck. Poor bugger, I never saw him again.’
Gladys shuddered at the thought of Les’s being driven off in the same German truck as his selfless friend, Bernie.
‘So what happened next?’ she asked tensely.
‘I had to get rid of my uniform; it was a dead give-away.’ Les grinned as he recalled his actions. ‘I stole some washing off a clothes line – baggy old trousers and a shirt – then I started walking, following directions from locals. I finally reached the sea, and after a series of lifts with local fishermen I managed to board a vessel bound for Harwich. I was incredibly lucky; people helped me all along the way. Without their generosity and guidance I could easily have been picked up.’
‘God was with you, Les; you really were so lucky!’ Gladys cried as she hugged her kid brother for the tenth time. ‘Please don’t go away again,’ she implored.
Les laughed at her rash request. ‘Got no choice, Sis, I’m in the army – I go where I’m sent, even though I’d rather stay here with you and the folks a bit longer.
‘I truly thought Mother was going to lose her mind when they reported you missing,’ Gladys confessed.
‘Poor Ma, and Pa too – he looks worn out with worry,’ Les remarked.
‘Promise you’ll tell me when you get your next posting and where you’re being sent?’ Gladys begged.
Les winked in the direction of Captain Horrocks. ‘Do you want me court-martialled for giving away military information?’
Gladys smiled bewitchingly at the captain. ‘You can tell me if he doesn’t,’ she laughed.
Sad to see her brother go, but so very happy that he was alive and well, Gladys gave the captain a brief kiss on the cheek as they said their goodbyes.
‘Thank you so much for bringing Les to see me,’ she said as she stared up at him with her dazzling bright blue eyes.
‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ he replied.
‘You should visit me more often,’ Gladys added playfully. ‘Now that you know where to find me!’
Clearly delighted by the suggestion, Trevor gave Gladys a warm smile before he rather reluctantly started to gather up his coat and gestured to Les to come with him.
Before Les climbed into Trevor’s car, he whispered to Gladys, ‘Who’s your pretty friend with the flaming red hair?’
‘Maggie,’ Gladys laughed. ‘She’s a terrible flirt.’ Knowing her brother was a bit of a flirt himself, she said with a teasing laugh, ‘Shall I pass on any messages?’
Les gave her a naughty wink. ‘Yeah – ask her if she fancies a date in Leeds before I rejoin my battalion!’
Gladys winked back, delighted to see that Les was clearly unchanged by his ordeal and back to his usual cheeky self. This was the brother she’d grown up with and Les had always had an eye for a pretty girl!
43. Bomb Girls’ Christmas
December 1942 saw victories in Europe and North Africa that raised the nation’s hopes high. Malc, supervising girls on the cordite line and in the filling shed, openly gloated when they heard on the BBC news of Montgomery’s Eighth Army pushing Rommel’s German–Italian Panzer Army into retreating further towards Tunis.
‘Nice to think we’ve got the bloody Eyeties on the run and the Huns too – makes a change for our side to be the victors,’ he declared.
Despite the freezing cold weather and the winter days growing shorter, there was an unmistakable air of festive joy at the Phoenix
Maggie, who had a permanent glow of excitement about her since she’d accepted Les’s invitation to visit him in Leeds, could hardly contain herself. ‘It’ll soon be Christmas!’ she announced cheerfully.
‘Not that we’ve got any money to buy presents,’ Nora said, frowning at the thought.
‘Or that there’re any presents to be had,’ Myrtle pointed out.
‘But who can resist Christmas?’ cried irrepressible Maggie.
Nora, always the realist, grumbled, ‘We’re all working nights too; I don’t see that there’s much to get excited about.’
Excited about her first Christmas with her baby son, Kit dismissed Nora’s negative comment with a bright smile
. ‘Well, at least we’ll have Christmas Day at home, I can watch Billy open his stocking and play with him all day long!’ she said joyously.
Nora’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m dreading the thought of me and mi da being on our own; it’ll be our first Christmas without mi mam and our kid,’ she said sadly. ‘I honestly don’t know how we’ll get through it.’
‘Come and spend Christmas with us!’ generous Maggie offered. ‘Our Emily’s baking a mock goose with parsley legs and sausage-meat stuffing. Bring your father: we’ll cheer him up with a pint of our wicked home brew.’
Nora visibly cheered at Maggie’s invitation. ‘Thanks, Mags,’ she said gratefully. ‘We’d love to join you, if you’re sure.’
‘Sure I’m sure!’ Maggie laughed.
‘We should go carol singing,’ Myrtle suggested, ‘And collect money for war widows and orphans.’
‘That’s a very good idea,’ said Gladys. ‘We could take our instruments and sing in the main square in town on Christmas Eve.’
‘I don’t think I’ll be pushing my piano into town,’ Myrtle chuckled.
‘And I won’t be rolling my big bass drum down the hill either,’ Kit joked. ‘But I could bring a small drum.’
Maggie blushed as she said to Gladys, ‘Do you think your brother might come carol singing with us? We could play a trumpet duet together?’
‘Why don’t you ask himself yourself when you see him in Leeds?’ Gladys answered with a teasing smile.
‘I might just do that!’ Maggie replied, grinning.
‘’Tis the season to be jolly!’ Violet laughed as she quoted a line from the carol.
‘Fah lah lah lah lah lah lah!’ her friends sang back.
Christmas or not, nothing stopped work on the Phoenix bomb line.
‘Bombs have to be made even though Santa’s on his way!’ Malc joked when the girls grumbled about not getting time off. ‘Our brave lads at the front don’t stop for a slap-up dinner,’ he reminded his workers. ‘And neither should we.’
Maggie was lucky enough to swap a shift in order to go to Leeds to meet Les. Borrowing Emily’s make-up, she dabbed rouge on her cheeks, applied glossy red lipstick to her full lips and used a pencil to accentuate her swooping eyebrows; she also borrowed Emily’s best blue tweed hat and coat for her date.
