The Clippie Girls

by Margaret Dickinson

  As darkness fell Terry said, with obvious reluctance, that he would have to leave. ‘I mustn’t miss the last train.’

  Peggy made as if to get up too, but Rose shot out of her seat. ‘I’ll see you out, Terry. The blackout and all . . .’ She didn’t want him stealing a furtive kiss from Peggy in the darkness of the hallway. In a flurry of goodbyes, she led him through the hall, drew back the blackout curtain and opened the door.

  ‘Goodnight and thank you for everything you did for Peggy.’ With unmistakable finality, she added, ‘She’ll be fine now.’

  ‘Goodnight, Rose. I’ll be seeing you,’ he added, as he stepped across the threshold.

  ‘Not if I see you first,’ Rose countered. Her tone was deliberately jocular, but there was no mistaking the underlying threat beneath her words: stay away, it said.

  As Terry walked along the road, he grinned to himself in the darkness and began to whistle ‘We’ll Meet Again’. Terry Price was not about to give up that easily.

  As Rose returned to the living room, the wail of the sirens began.

  Peggy’s eyes widened. ‘Oh no! What about Terry? We ought to call him back. Rose . . .’

  Rose shrugged. ‘He’ll be too far away now.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back as the lie slid glibly from her lips. ‘He set off up the road at a run. He’d disappeared before I’d even got the door shut again.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Peggy worried. ‘I do hope he’ll be all right.’

  ‘Right, everybody,’ Grace gave the order. ‘Into the cellar.’

  Nineteen

  ‘D’you think they’re going for the city centre again?’ Peggy said, as they sat in the cold semi-darkness.

  ‘The incendiaries were falling more to the northeast,’ said Myrtle, who’d once again peered out of the window before reluctantly going down the cellar steps.

  ‘Happen they’re going for t’ industrial area tonight then,’ Tom’s gravelly voice said.

  ‘D’you think that’s where they were meant to be going on Thursday and they got it wrong?’

  It was a moment before Tom answered. ‘Mebbe, lass, mebbe. But if you ask me, them Germans are far too clever to get it wrong. No, I reckon they intended to bomb us just like they did in London, Coventry and all t’ other places they’ve been having a go at. And they’ll keep on coming until they’ve blitzed all t’ major industrial cities. You mark my words.’

  They’d all have liked to contradict Tom, but not one of them could. Grace, from her avid reading of the daily newspapers and listening to the wireless bulletins, knew that he was unfortunately probably right.

  As they all fell silent, listening to the bombing still happening in the distance, they knew that there’d be more folk killed or injured this night and many more made homeless or left without a place of work to go to in the morning.

  ‘Do you want to go and see Bob this afternoon?’ Rose offered when Peggy appeared bleary-eyed for a late breakfast. Mary and Myrtle had already left and Grace was wiping down the surfaces in the kitchen, tutting in disgust. Though, with only cold water from the rain barrel in the yard and what Rose and Myrtle could fetch, it was a thankless task. They heard the back door open and Letty’s voice, complaining bitterly about the mess that Thursday night’s bombs had left. ‘I’ll be months getting it right, Mrs Booth. Months.’

  ‘None of us were hurt, Mrs Bradshaw. That’s what we’ve got to be thankful for.’ No one, not even Hitler, was going to defeat Grace for long.

  ‘I could go to the hospital with you, if you like, Peg,’ Rose said, her mind still on Bob.

  Peggy bit her lip. ‘I ought to go, but I don’t think I could walk all that way. I still feel wobbly, and after a night in the cellar I feel so tired.’

  ‘Then I’ll go,’ Rose said firmly, giving Peggy the benefit of one of her glares. Rose was good at glaring when she wanted to press home her point of view. It was a look, as Grace said, that could stop a clock. ‘One of us from this family should visit, even if it’s only to keep his poor mam company.’

  ‘Yes.’ Peggy sighed wearily. ‘You go, Rose.’

  ‘And I’ll tell him you send your love, shall I?’

  There was a moment’s hesitation before Peggy said quietly, ‘Of course.’

  Rose was still feeling angry with her sister when she arrived at the hospital to find Hester Deeton waiting anxiously in the queue of people lining up to go into the wards when visiting time started. The poor woman looked so careworn and frail, though she couldn’t be much older than Mary was. Rose’s annoyance fell away in her concern for Hester. Then fear shot through her: was it Bob? Was he worse? She touched Hester’s arm lightly, making her jump.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right? You look so – so anxious.’

  Tears filled Hester’s eyes. ‘Oh, Rose – how good of you to come. Have you brought Peggy?’

  ‘No, I’m sorry. She’s still feeling very shaken.’ Not too shaken to be making sheep’s eyes at a handsome soldier, Rose thought, but she pushed her uncharitable thoughts away. Perhaps she had made more of it than she should have done in her concern for Bob. Terry had been very kind, she had to admit that. She paused and then asked, ‘How – how is Bob? He’s not worse, is he?’

  Hester smiled through her tears and shook her head. ‘No, no, he’s doing very well now. But it was such a shock, Rose, him getting injured like that.’ She lowered her voice and leaned closer. ‘I don’t like folks to hear me say this – it sounds very selfish – but Bob’s all I’ve got. I was so relieved when we found out that his job’s a reserved occupation. I was over the moon. I don’t mind telling you that, Rose, you’ll understand; but other folks who’ve got family out there fighting, well, it doesn’t sound very fair of me, does it?’

  Rose squeezed Hester’s hand and said huskily, ‘I know what you mean, but any one of them would bring their boys back if they could.’

  ‘But, you see, I never thought he’d get injured here.’ Tears welled in her eyes again. ‘I thought he was safe.’

  ‘But he’s going to be all right, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ll never know another moment’s peace when he’s back at work.’

  Now there was nothing Rose could think of to say to comfort the other woman. At that moment the signal came that the visitors could go in.

  ‘You go, I’ll wait here,’ Rose said.

  ‘No, no, he’s allowed two visitors at a time now. We’ll both go in.’

  The ward was crowded. The beds had been moved closer together and there was also an additional row of beds, head to foot, down the centre of the ward. Dust and grime were everywhere, but apart from some minor damage, the hospital was intact.

  Bob did look much better. He was sitting up in bed, watching the door with a smile of anticipation. It faltered a little when he saw it was only his mother and Rose. But Rose forced a cheery smile – wasn’t it what she was known for? – as she approached the bed. When the usual greetings had been exchanged, Bob’s first question was, ‘Where’s Peggy?’

  ‘She sends her love,’ Rose assured him, ‘but she’s still feeling very shaky.’

  Bob nodded. ‘Poor girl. Tell her not to worry. They might let me go home the day after tomorrow, then I’ll come and see her.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Rose blurted out before she could stop herself. ‘You’re far worse than she is. No, no, she’ll visit you. If not here, then at home.’

  Bob grinned at his mother. ‘Fiery piece, isn’t she? Peggy always says there’s no arguing with Rose once she gets the bit between her teeth.’

  They chatted for half an hour and then Mr Bower appeared in the doorway of the ward. Rose stood up. ‘I’ll go,’ she said, ‘and let Mr Bower see you.’ As she began to move away, Bob caught hold of her hand. ‘Give Peggy my love, won’t you, Rose?’

  Rose swallowed hard but managed to smile brightly and nod. She couldn’t speak. The warmth in his tone and the look of longing in his eyes were like knives throu
gh her heart.

  In comparison with other cities, Sheffield’s blitz didn’t last long. It seemed as if Hitler had moved his attentions elsewhere and whilst Sheffielders would not have wished such devastation and tragedy on any of their countrymen, they couldn’t help but be relieved that the heavy bombardment of their city seemed to have ceased for the moment. There was still the spasmodic raid – as there probably would be for however long the war lasted – but at least the concentrated bombing had stopped. But the fear remained, especially when they heard with horror that only five days later Liverpool had been the victim of what would come to be called the Christmas Blitz, which lasted for three nights. And then, two weeks later, the enemy dropped ten thousand firebombs on London in an effort to set the city on fire.

  ‘They’ll come back here,’ Rose said dolefully. Usually it was Rose to whom the family turned to raise their spirits. But for once she wasn’t feeling optimistic about the future. ‘They’ll want to finish the job they started and wreck our industries completely.’

  ‘Tom was telling me that although they bombed the Vickers’ factory, they missed the massive drop hammer.’ Grace lowered her voice, almost as if she feared there might be spies listening. ‘It’s one of the best-kept secrets of the war, Tom says, and of course he should know. He works there.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘It’s vital for the production of Rolls-Royce crankshafts for Spitfires and Hurricanes.’

  ‘Really?’ Rose’s eyes widened. ‘Then no wonder Adolf wants to wipe us out.’

  Bob came home from hospital, and despite Rose’s protests it was he who came to see Peggy. He sat beside her holding her hand, whilst Rose slammed the pots about in the scullery as she washed up after tea.

  ‘What’s the matter with you, girl?’ Grace shouted at last. ‘You’ll break something if you carry on like that. Hasn’t Hitler done me enough damage in this house without you starting?’ The noise of clattering crockery stopped and, out of sight of the others, Rose leaned against the sink and closed her eyes, murmuring to herself, ‘I can’t stand this much longer. I’ll have to leave. Get a place of my own.’ They were brave words, but she knew she wouldn’t. For one thing, her family needed her and for another, on her wage alone, she couldn’t afford it. If it hadn’t been Peggy who was causing Rose’s heartache, she might have suggested that the two eldest sisters get a little place of their own to rent. But even then she knew that, despite Grace’s constant grumbling, her grandmother wouldn’t want any of her family to leave her. Especially now there was a war on.

  No, there was nothing Rose could do to alleviate the pain in her heart. She drew in a deep breath and promised herself that she would bury her feelings for Bob, put a brave smile on her face and get on with her own life and stop mooning over her sister’s boyfriend.

  Just so long as that handsome soldier didn’t come back.

  Twenty

  ‘Would you believe it?’ Letty said, arriving at the back door on Christmas morning. ‘Our Tom’s taken t’ lads to the football at Hillsborough. After all we’ve been through, all ’ee can think about is United playing Wednesday.’

  ‘Best thing he could have done,’ Grace said.

  ‘Eh?’ Letty looked startled. She’d wanted sympathy. She hadn’t expected Grace to side with Tom.

  ‘Those lads – little rascals though they are most of the time – are having to experience things no boys of their age should have to. We’re living in dark times, Mrs Bradshaw, and this Christmas is going to be a miserable one for many Sheffielders. We’re lucky, when you stop to think about it. At least all our families are safe—’ Her voice softened as she added, ‘And, God willing, your boys in the forces are safe too. They’ll be making the most of Christmas, wherever they are, I don’t doubt. And so should we.’ Moved to an unusual feeling of friendliness towards her neighbour, Grace said, ‘Now, you’ll join us for dinner, won’t you? Just bring whatever you can and we’ll try to forget the war for a few hours, shall we? Mr Bower will be joining us again, though Bob Deeton and his mam are staying at home. Poor Hester. She’s such a worrier. She thinks the day would be too tiring for him and Bob’s too kind-hearted to upset her.’

  Letty’s face brightened at once. ‘Oh, tha’s good, Mrs Booth, as I was saying to Mrs Tanner only the other day, yourn is a lovely family.’ She moved closer, her irritation with her husband forgotten for the moment. She had a juicy bit of gossip to impart. ‘Hast tha heard about Mrs Leggett at t’bottom of t’street. She’s expecting. Sixth months gone, so Mrs Tanner reckons and – ’ Letty’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper – ‘her husband hasn’t been home for nearly a year. Now, what dost tha think to that, eh?’

  Grace could think of a very rude retort, but she held her tongue. Instead she said, ‘None of my business, Mrs Bradshaw. Now have you got anything you’d like to put in my range oven?’ Not for the first time, Grace was glad she hadn’t got rid of the range that still dominated the living room.

  Letty was not offended by Grace’s brusque refusal to indulge in gossip; she was used to it, but she never stopped trying.

  They all enjoyed Christmas more than they’d thought possible. They’d pooled their rations to make a feast and, surprisingly, there was laughter around the table even though the days just before Christmas had been traumatic for all of them. Rose unearthed some board games and she Myrtle and Peggy kept the boys amused in the afternoon, whilst the others sat in front of a roaring fire in Grace’s best front room, chatting or dozing. Tom had insisted that he contribute a share of the coal, and the warmth – and the drop of brandy he’d been keeping for a special occasion – mellowed their mood and they were soon reminiscing about the ‘good old days’.

  ‘They’ll come again,’ Tom said stoically, his thoughts turning once more back to the present war, and Laurence agreed. ‘We may be bowed in this city – in this country – but we’re certainly not beaten.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that,’ Tom said and raised his glass.

  On the Saturday evening, a month after Christmas, Terry jumped off the bus at a stop on Crookes Road and, whistling jauntily, set off towards the ‘house of women’ as he’d come to call it in his own mind. He’d been lucky to wangle another leave so soon after the last one and he still felt guilty about telling his sergeant that his mother was ill following the bombing. When he’d arrived back at camp the last time he’d almost been put on a charge. Immediately after the bombing word had gone out that all leave had been cancelled and he should have returned to camp at once.

  ‘But I didn’t hear,’ Terry had told his sergeant. That bit was true. ‘Everything in the city was in chaos and I was helping dig in the ruins to find folk.’

  Though his sergeant had eyed him suspiciously, he’d believed him. And he’d granted him this leave too only a month later.

  ‘And where are you off to?’ his father asked, as Terry smoothed his black hair and straightened the knot in his tie in front of the mirror above the fireplace. On arriving home, he’d changed out of his uniform and was now wearing his best suit.

  ‘See my girl, that’s where.’

  ‘Eh?’ Harry Price looked startled and his wife, Edith, had looked up from darning her husband’s socks. ‘Sylvia? You’re taking Sylvia out?’

  Terry shook his head.

  ‘You took her out last time you were home.’ Sylvia Thomas lived next door to the Prices.

  Terry pulled a face. ‘That was just before I met Peggy, Ma.’

  ‘Oh, Peggy, is it?’

  ‘Yes, and it was never serious with Sylvia. We’ve grown up together. She’s more like another sister.’

  ‘Amy’s not going to like it,’ Edith said. Terry’s younger sister, Amy, was Sylvia’s best friend. ‘She’s always dreamed of you two getting married and her being bridesmaid.’

  ‘Well, it’s not going to happen, Ma. Me and Sylvia are just mates. Why, I’ve never even kissed the girl.’

  ‘Yes, you have. In a game of postman’s knock last Christmas.’

  �
��That doesn’t count.’

  ‘It did to Sylvia.’

  ‘And have you kissed this Peggy yet?’ his father asked bluntly.

  Terry grinned. ‘Not yet, but I intend to before this leave’s over.’

  ‘Then you’d best hurry up,’ Harry chuckled, not taking any of this romantic nonsense seriously. ‘You’ve only got another twenty-nine hours of your leave left.’

  Terry was stationed in North Yorkshire and could get home relatively easily on a short leave, especially when he told the odd white lie. And hitching lifts was easy for a soldier in uniform. He was luckier than many of his fellow soldiers and he knew it. But they all expected to be posted somewhere else before long, possibly abroad. He wasn’t going to think about that now; today he was going to see his girl and he vowed to himself that before he left her, this very day, she would know how much she meant to him.

  ‘What’s she like?’ Despite her disappointment over Sylvia, Edith was curious. The neighbours – the Prices and the Thomases – had been friends for years and Edith wasn’t sure how her friend, Mabel, was going to take this news. Mabel Thomas was a big woman in every way: in build, in heart and in laughter, but she was a devil when crossed. Edith shuddered. She didn’t want to have to be the one to tell Mabel that Terry was seeing another girl.

  Terry turned from the mirror. ‘She’s very pretty, Ma. Curly brown hair and lovely, soft brown eyes that melt your heart, and when she smiles she has dimples in her cheeks.’ He pointed at his own cheeks to demonstrate.

  Edith stared at him. He could remember everything about this girl in fine detail. He must be smitten. Her heart dropped as she thought of Mabel next door. ‘Where did you meet her?’