by Carol Rivers
Alan felt the sweat bead on his brow. His shirt clung to him. His uniform felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders.
‘That’s all.’
Alan saluted and swivelled on his heel. He marched out of the room and past the two guards. He had a vivid picture in his mind of what might happen in the future – Kay’s face, her shock and disappointment – if the army exposed him for the man he had once been. If only he’d had the guts to tell her when they’d first met. But he’d wanted her more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life before and he hadn’t been prepared to lose her.
When he reached the parade ground, the sergeant was still bawling his head off. His pals were running at speed, covered in the driving snow. The burden of their wet backpacks would soon be crippling.
Just like the secrets Alan carried inside him. Secrets the army used to manipulate men like him.
‘Alan’s letter arrived this morning,’ said Kay. She was sitting with Vi and Babs in the kitchen one Saturday afternoon in the middle of March. The kids were playing in the yard for the first time in weeks. Like January, February had been a miserably cold month but now it felt that at last winter was on the wane.
‘What does he have to say?’ Babs squashed the butt of the cigarette she had been smoking into the stained glass ashtray. It wasn’t long before Vi did the same, blowing the last lungful of cloudy air into the space above them.
‘Not very much.’
‘Same with Eddie,’ said Babs with a shrug. ‘It’s censorship, ain’t it? Eddie’s favourite phrase is “loose lips sinks ships”, – I dunno how many times he’s written that. All I hope is he’s not put on a merchant ship that’s defenceless against the German subs.’
‘The poor beggars,’ sighed Vi, shaking her head. ‘So you think Alan’s in England still, Kay?’
‘Yes, as he says he’s training.’
‘At least you know he’s safe, then,’ commented Babs.
‘Not like our poor soldiers in Singapore,’ Vi pointed out.
The three women nodded in silence. In February Kay and her friends had listened to the wireless reports as Winston Churchill had broken the news to the nation that the British troops had surrendered to the Japanese. He’d warned that the consequences of this for the Allies were grave. No one knew what was to be the fate of the British troops who had held out so defiantly in the Far East.
‘Every time we get news like that,’ complained Babs, ‘it feels like it did last year in the Blitz. You start thinking of what you’d do if that door burst open and someone rushed in to attack you. Only this time, we ain’t got our men with us to do the fighting.’
‘Singapore is a defeat,’ agreed Vi, beginning to roll another cigarette, ‘but the Japs ain’t won the war, nor has Jerry. So don’t go thinking along those lines. The enemy would like to put the wind up us in any way they can.’ Vi grinned and stuck out her tongue to lick the thin paper. ‘Like Kay here, thinking she’s being watched all the time.’
Kay looked at Vi. ‘Not all the time.’
‘Have you seen him again?’ Babs asked curiously.
‘Not since January.’ Kay had told Babs about the man. The trouble was, her two friends regarded the mystery with amusement as the stranger only appeared when no one else was looking.
‘Perhaps he’s undercover for the Food Office,’ Babs suggested with a smile. ‘Checking up on black-market coupons.’
Kay pulled back her shoulders. ‘Well, in that case he’s got a long wait.’
Leaving her two friends smiling, Kay got up from the table and went to the front room. She looked out of the window. There was no one there. Was it all the government propaganda that was getting to her and making her nervous? Only the other day she had been sitting on the bus and overheard a conversation behind her. One woman had remarked she’d seen her neighbour talking to a man who looked just like Hitler. This was impossible, Kay knew, but when she heard the woman’s companion reply that it was best to report it to the police, Kay had been shocked. She didn’t want to be part of this scaremongering. She would have to pull herself together before she too became part of the country’s paranoia.
Chapter Seventeen
‘I’ve made a couple of apple pies for Gill’s birthday tomorrow,’ Vi told Kay a few days later when Alfie had gone to sleep. It was Friday and a party had been planned for Gill’s ninth birthday the following afternoon. ‘And a jelly and blancmange, though the taste is never the same with dried milk. Me and Alfie made a few crackers from the newspaper but there’s nothing in ’em. Still, they’ll amuse the kids for a while.’
‘How many children are coming?’ asked Kay as she scraped the last of the nutty slack onto the fire in the lounge. The weather had been so bad, they had used more fuel than normal. The twenty pounds that Alan had left was now down to fifteen pounds and seventeen shillings. Twenty pounds had seemed a fortune when Alan had given it to her. She had kept it under the mattress for a long time, not wanting to break into it. But the winter bills had been heavy. Without Alan’s wage coming in and only his army pay together with her reduced hours at the factory, there had been a big hole in the housekeeping.
‘Two of Gill’s friends and a mate of Tim’s,’ answered Vi. ‘Plus Alfie, that makes five. But don’t forget, Babs has asked the rest of Slater Street. Any excuse for a knees-up, eh?’
‘Yes,’ agreed Kay, yet feeling guilty about the two pounds that she had extravagantly given to Babs.
‘I think I’ll turn in, love.’ Vi rubbed her eyes. ‘Unless you want to come in and sit by the last of the fire?’
‘No, I’m ready to hit the sack too.’ Vi had looked tired when Kay had got home from work. The winter had been bad for her rheumatics. And Alfie was a live wire these days. As Gill’s birthday was on a Saturday, Kay would be up early for work and Vi wouldn’t sleep in either.
‘Goodnight then, flower.’ Vi pecked her cheek.
‘I’ll see to the lights.’
A few minutes later Kay flicked the light switch and the house was plunged into darkness. She was about to go upstairs when there was a knock at the front door. Kay stood still. It was almost ten o’clock. Late for someone to call. She wondered if Vi had heard the knock, but as Vi didn’t poke her head out, Kay assumed she hadn’t.
The knock came again, soft but insistent.
Kay put her cheek to the door. ‘Who is it?’
‘Kay? It’s me. Paul Butt.’
Kay breathed out slowly and opened the door. ‘Oh, Paul, it’s you.’
‘I hope it’s not too late.’
Kay looked out on the dark street. Her eyes flicked through the shadows. ‘No, but what is it, Paul? Is something wrong?’
‘I thought you might be able to use a bag of nutty slack.’ Paul Butt stood with his coat buttoned up to his chin and his fair hair blown over his face.
‘Don’t tell me it was left over from the canteen,’ said Kay in surprise.
‘I bumped into Babs yesterday on me way home from work. She said you’d both run out of coal. I’ve dropped a sack off next door and this one is for you. Me and Dad have plenty to keep us going. This don’t come from our rations, if you see what I mean.’
Kay looked out to the street again, then beckoned Paul in.
‘My mate is a coal merchant, you see,’ continued Paul a little awkwardly. ‘I came late as no one is about.’ Paul hauled the sack over his shoulder. Kay quickly shut the door. She turned on the light by which time Paul had found the coal cupboard. He disappeared for a few minutes and then emerged, rubbing the dust from his hands. ‘That should do you for a month or so.’
‘Paul, how much do I owe you?’
‘This one’s on the house. Can’t see the kids go cold. I hear it’s Babs’s girl’s birthday tomorrow.’
‘Yes, Gill’s nine. They’re all very excited about the party. How’s your dad?’ Kay asked politely.
‘A few aches and pains. But he keeps going.’
‘Will we see you both at the party tomor
row?’
‘Hope so.’ Paul paused, rolling the sack up and wedging it under his arm. ‘And Alan? What’s the news there?’
Kay shrugged. ‘None, really. Only that he’s finished his training.’
‘He might get some leave before he’s posted, then.’
‘I hope so.’ Kay didn’t know what else to say. She felt a little embarrassed being alone with Paul at this time of night. He seemed to hesitate and she wondered if she should offer him a cup of tea in exchange for his generosity. But then she decided against it.
‘Well, better be going,’ he said at last.
Kay turned off the light then opened the door. ‘Goodnight, and thanks, Paul.’
She watched him walk down the dark street towards his house at the end of the road. Once again she wondered why he had never settled down. He seemed to like kids and would make a good father. It was very generous of him to give her and Babs the coal. Kay wondered if he was still seeing the girl from his works.
Just then there was a movement in the shadows. Kay jumped, realizing the door was still open. She closed it quickly. Staying very still she listened for noises. There was only a loud snore from the front room. Treading up the stairs softly, she went into her bedroom.
She couldn’t help herself. She had to look outside. The street was in darkness, the blackout well and truly enforced. There were just the shadows and the stars above. She pushed the thought of the stranger from her mind. If she went on like this, she would soon be getting on her own nerves. Let alone everyone else’s!
The party was in full swing and Kay had no regrets about the two pounds she had provided for the celebration. The fun and excitement were worth every penny. The entire street had turned out for the occasion. The weather was fine and the children played both inside and outdoors. Jenny and Tom Edwards and their daughter Emily had brought the ale and port; Alice Tyler, the tea and dried milk from the factory where she worked as the tea lady. Bert Tyler had added his contribution, a tin of biscuits that had emerged from an unspecific source in the docks. The biscuits, as pure luxury, had been strictly rationed to two each for the children and one for an adult. The two spinster sisters, Hazel and Thelma, had made sausage rolls, though there was more pastry than meat.
Kay was surprised to see that nearly everyone had brought Gill a gift: a handmade peg-doll from the Tylers, a girl’s annual from the Edwards, and from Paul and his father, a miniature set of carved drawers to hold all Gill’s trinkets. Paul had made the gift and Neville had painted small red and yellow roses over it.
The tunes that Jenny Edwards was knocking out on the piano were all well-known favourites. ‘By the Light of the Silvery Moon’, ‘If You Were the Only Girl in the World’ and ‘Hello, Who’s Your Lady Friend’, had been accompanied by the wartime favourites, ‘Pack up Your Troubles in Your Old Kitbag’ and ‘Goodbye-ee’, until the singing had finally drowned out Jenny’s bad playing. Kay had called in the kids and the eating and drinking had started in earnest. Gill’s birthday cake, a sponge consisting of more carrot than flour, had been sliced into minute portions and divided.
It was after they had sung ‘Happy Birthday’ and Kay and Babs had begun to clear the dirty dishes that Paul Butt joined them in the kitchen. He placed the plates he had carried on the draining board and, turning to Babs, nodded to the yard. ‘I was able to get hold of the paint you wanted,’ he said. ‘I’ve put the tin in the Anderson, under the bunks out of harm’s way. Brushes weren’t so easy to find, but there’s a decent sized one for the walls.’ He gave his shy smile. ‘Let me know when you want me to start. It’d have to be on a weekend or in the evening. But as the nights are drawing out, that won’t be a problem.’
Kay saw her friend blush as she thanked Paul.
‘What was that all about?’ Kay asked curiously, when Paul had gone.
‘Paul’s offered to paint me front room,’ she said, adding quickly, ‘and before you say anything, I intend to pay him. The Tripps left the house in a terrible state, poor things. They was old and had no one to do it for them. Eddie was going to get round to the painting, but he never had time before his call-up. I was telling this to Neville the other day when we was queuing at the ironmonger’s. I was hoping to get some cheap paint and do it meself Of course, there wasn’t any paint going and that was when Neville said he’d see what he could do.’
Kay smiled. ‘That was kind of Neville.’
‘I know. It’s very good of the Butts.’
‘You can’t get paint even with coupons.’
Babs nodded. ‘So when Paul offered, I jumped at it.’ Babs narrowed her eyes softly. ‘Tell you what, I could ask if there’s any more going for your place.’
But Kay shook her head. ‘No, Babs. I’d rather not.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t want any more favours.’
Babs grinned. ‘You ain’t like me, then. I’d grab anything going. After all, I need to take a pride in me place and give the kids a nice home. If I’m honest, Eddie could take years to do any jobs. In the meantime, the house will be falling down around our ears.’
‘He is away fighting.’
‘Might not be much different if he was here.’
Kay looked at her friend. She hadn’t heard Babs talk like this before. Kay noticed that Babs looked very attractive today. She had grown her fair hair that she’d always kept short, and curled it carefully around her face. She wore lipstick too, something that she normally didn’t bother with. And her smart two-piece suit enhanced her slim figure. She even wore high heels, a departure from the laced flats that she’d always worn before.
‘Babs, have you heard from Eddie?’
‘Yes, but he don’t say nothing new. His letters are still all about the weather.’ Babs laughed, shaking back her hair. ‘Typical Eddie.’
Before any more could be said, Vi bustled in with a tray full of crocs. She was followed by Hazel and Thelma who carried the dirty glasses. The kitchen was soon full of chatter and Kay was despatched outside to Babs’s Anderson to see what the children were up to.
But instead, Kay paused at the fence and looked across at her own house. Everything she saw reminded her of Alan. The windows with their borders of tough wood, the mended tiles on the roof, the yard that had once been covered in rubble and debris, now swept and tidy with a few timbers stacked across by the wall, depleted now as she’d used them for firewood. Her husband had left everything in good order. The interior of the house might need painting, as did Babs’s house. But then it was a task that Alan would readily attend to. She knew she could rely on Alan as she had always done to keep house and home together. But Babs didn’t seem to have the same confidence in Eddie. Kay tried to think back to their old house, the one that had been bombed. Had Eddie kept it ship-shape? Kay couldn’t remember. What she could remember was that the house had always seemed homely and cosy, somewhere you could go and enjoy a chat with your best friend.
Kay looked back to Babs’s house. Through the kitchen window, she could now see Babs at the sink. She was washing the dishes and smiling. She looked young and happy. The person beside her was Paul. He too looked happy. If she hadn’t known better, she might have said that the pair only had eyes for each other.
It was gone seven when Kay, Vi and Alfie eventually left the party. As Kay drew the key up from the latch cord and opened the front door, her heart almost leaped out of her chest. She couldn’t believe her eyes and for a moment she thought she was imagining the tall, dark-haired figure standing in the passage.
‘Alan?’ Kay gasped.
In three strides Alan reached them; Alfie was hauled up against his chest and Vi was flattened with Kay in his arms.
‘Son, what are you doing here?’ Vi said.
‘I was given leave at the last minute.’
‘Why didn’t you come next door?’ Kay wanted to know. ‘You must have heard the racket.’
‘Thought I’d make a cuppa first. What was the occasion?’
‘Gill’s birthday,�
� said Kay, ‘but the whole street was there.’
‘Any excuse for a knees-up, eh?’ He laughed and hugged them all again.
‘Daddy comin’ down the river?’ Alfie’s inquisitive fingers went to the dark stubble on Alan’s chin.
‘In the morning, big man,’ said Alan. ‘You and me and your mum will take a stroll.’
‘How long are you home for?’ Kay asked.
Some of the light went out of Alan’s eyes. ‘I’ve got a twenty-four-hour pass.’
Kay said nothing. It was hard to keep her disappointment from showing.
‘You’ll want feeding, no doubt,’ said Vi, heading towards the kitchen. ‘Bet you ain’t eaten today.’
‘As a matter of fact, I haven’t.’
Vi waved her hand. ‘Sit by the fire then and I’ll sort you out something tasty.’
‘Thanks, Vi.’
Kay was bursting with questions as they crammed into the front room. She wanted to know everything: what Alan had done, where he’d been and most importantly where he was going to be posted. But, as they made space on the couch and sat down, Kay knew she had to be patient.
Alan plonked another kiss on Alfie’s nose. ‘You’ve grown, son. You’ll be as tall as your dad soon.’
‘I got a train set,’ Alfie told his father, wriggling free of Alan’s grasp. ‘It’s in the war’bode.’
Kay laughed. ‘Mum and Dad bought him a train set for Christmas. Vi keeps it in the wardrobe. Go and get it, Alfie.’
‘How did Christmas go?’ Alan asked as Alfie scrambled away.
‘It was all right. But I missed you.’
‘What about Len and Doris?’
‘We got a nice card and Doris wrote saying they’re still hoping to adopt.’ Kay kissed her husband quickly. ‘But I want to talk about you, not them.’
