Cousins at War (5 page)

No great damage had been done in Aberdeen since Queenie had arrived, and the bombs that had fallen had been nowhere near King Street, but when an alert sounded, her stomach
churned, her mouth went dry and she knew that she would never forget the terrors of the Blitz. Helene wrote to her every Sunday, assuring her that the enemy planes ignored their street now and,
although the girl did not believe that one street could escape for so long when the rest of London was being razed to the ground, her haunted eyes had gradually cleared, her hollow cheeks filled
out and her smile was more genuine.

She had been fifteen in April, and could have left school last year, but her parents wanted her to continue her education, and Gracie had enrolled her at the Central Secondary School; it was run
by the council, but her aunt had said that it was as good as any private school, and she had done well in the six weeks since she started. At first, she had found it hard to understand the
Aberdonians, particularly when they spoke quickly, but she had grown used to the flat vowel sounds and the guttural consonants and was amused when her school friends told her that she was the one
who spoke ‘funny’.

Apart from missing her mother and father, she was enjoying her enforced stay in Aberdeen. Uncle Joe and Neil teased her constantly, but it was all in fun, and they laughed when she gave back as
good as she got. Patsy treated her like a real sister, listening to her opinion when they discussed things, helping her to experiment with new hairstyles, and making up her face in the privacy of
their shared room. Being an only child, she had often felt lonely at home, but she had plenty of company here and only Auntie Gracie made her feel as if she were being tolerated rather than
loved.

Not that anything had ever been said, Queenie admitted to herself as she walked home from school one afternoon. It was her aunt’s manner, an expression on her face when she didn’t
know anyone was watching her, that suggested she wasn’t very happy with the arrangement; and it wasn’t always there, just occasionally, mostly when she was tired.

Passing the familiar little grocer’s shop, Queenie put her head round the door and called, ‘Hi, Uncle Joe.’

No matter how busy he was, Joe Ferris always took time to smile and wave to her and she carried on contentedly to the house. ‘I’m home, Auntie Gracie,’ she said, as she threw
her schoolbag through her open bedroom door.

‘So I see,’ Gracie grunted, then turned with the hint of a smile. ‘You’ll be needing a cuppie to keep the wolf from the door till suppertime?’ She couldn’t
treat Donnie’s daughter as she did her own though she had tried, for she had nothing against the girl herself. She still felt angry at Helene for going back to London, that was the whole
trouble.

‘I’ll make it,’ Queenie said, brightly, lifting the kettle from the stove and taking it over to the sink. ‘I don’t know what you’ve got in the oven, but it
smells delicious.’

‘Och, it’s nothing much. Just a little something I made up out of my head.’

‘Brain stew?’

Gracie couldn’t help laughing. ‘Aye, that’s it. Brain stew with dumplings.’

Giggling, more at the unexpectedness of her aunt’s little joke than her actual words, Queenie carried the kettle back and lit a gas ring. ‘Miss McFadden said my French was above
average,’ she volunteered, as she took two cups and saucers out of the cupboard. ‘She said I should concentrate on that for one of my Highers when the time comes.’

An involuntary thrill of pride shot through Gracie. ‘Well, I always knew you were a clever lassie.’ Realising that this was the first time she had ever praised the girl, she added,
‘I maybe don’t show my feelings like your mum, but it’s just the way I am. I’m going to miss you when you go home.’

Queenie’s eyes lit up as she turned to hug her aunt. ‘I’m going to miss all of you, too. Sometimes I feel I don’t want to go home, I love being here, but I love Mum and
Dad more. Do you understand what I mean?’

Embarrassed at the sudden show of affection, Gracie pushed the girl away. ‘I understand and it’s only natural. Now, are you going to let that kettle boil dry?’

Grinning again, Queenie filled the teapot and studied her aunt while she waited for it to infuse. She knew that Gracie was younger than her mother, but she looked much older. Her mousey hair,
shot through with grey, was pulled back off her face, emphasising the gauntness of her cheeks. She was very thin, but maybe that was because she sacrificed most of her rations to make sure everyone
else had enough to eat.

Poor Gracie, Queenie thought, love for the woman coursing through her as never before. Even with the ten shillings her mother sent every week for her keep, her aunt must have a hard struggle to
make ends meets, not like Auntie Hetty, who had no worries about money. She had lovely Axminster carpets in every room except the dining room which had Wilton, while the floors in King Street just
had congoleum squares with surrounds stained dark brown. At Rubislaw Den, the mahogany furniture reflected like mirrors, but Gracie’s was a dull oak, solid but old-fashioned, and not really
pleasing to the eye. Her curtains had been bought by the yard from Cameron’s in Broad Street, she had told Queenie once, and she had run them up herself on her Jones sewing machine, but
Hetty’s had been made to measure by Galloway and Sykes, a furniture shop in Union Street which was so high class that Gracie had said she never dared to set foot inside it, adding, with a
little laugh, ‘Even the wee cushions sitting on the fancy suites in their windows are beyond my purse.’

Hetty’s husband was a solicitor, of course, Queenie mused, not a small shopkeeper, so they had a big salary coming in and would have to keep up the same standard as the people he worked
with. It was no hardship for them to send Olive to Medical School, and she seemed to be enjoying it though she hadn’t been there long. Raymond, the same age as she was herself, was still at
Gordon’s College, so he was probably going on to the university like his sister. Her mother and father had never mentioned that for her, but surely the war would be over and she would be back
in South Norwood by the time she was old enough for the decision to be made.

‘The lassie’s fitted in well,’ Joe observed one night.

Gracie smiled. ‘She was a bit quiet at first, for she must have missed her mum and dad, but she soon bucked up.’

‘She’s a wee comic sometimes, imitating her teachers and her school chums, she fair brightens the place up.’

‘And she never loses her temper, though you and Neil tease the life out of her. Patsy and her are real pals, as well.’

‘Aye, well,’ Joe said, proudly, ‘Patsy gets on fine with everybody.’

One Sunday, the Potter family arrived at King Street just after lunch. The visit had not been arranged and Olive was delighted to find Neil at home – he usually contrived
to be out when he knew they were coming – but her pleasure dimmed as time went on, because he was too intent on cracking jokes with Queenie to pay any attention to her. When she had first
learned that their London cousin was to be living with the Ferrises, Olive hadn’t been too bothered. Queenie was a kid, only fifteen, and presented no challenge as far as Neil was concerned.
She had been disconcerted when she first saw the girl, although she had been sure that such a chocolate-box prettiness wouldn’t appeal to Neil. Seeing them laughing and sparring with each
other today, however, was more than just disconcerting, it was downright upsetting. It was probably all innocent fun but it was easy for fun to become serious.

‘Neil,’ she said, loudly to make sure he heard, ‘have you seen any good films lately?’

There was a slight frown on his face as he turned to her. ‘Nothing startling. Have you?’

‘I haven’t been to the cinema for ages, but I wondered if there was anything you would recommend.’

Her ‘hoity-toity’ manner of speaking had always irked him, but he caught his mother’s cautioning eye and went across to sit beside Olive. ‘There’s a Fred
Astaire–Ginger Rogers on next week, I think, if you like them. It’s been here before, and it’s quite good.’

Knowing that he was interested in dancing, she smiled. ‘I might go to see it, if I can find someone to go with.’

He didn’t rise to the bait. ‘Get Raymond to go with you. He likes them as well. Don’t you, Raymond?’

‘I like them,’ Raymond muttered, ‘but I don’t like going to the pictures with her.’

‘Why don’t
you
go with her, Neil?’ Joe’s solution was met with a grim glare from his son.

‘I saw it the last time it was here.’

The brief silence was broken by Patsy. ‘I’ll go with you, Olive, if you want?’

‘Don’t bother,’ was the frosty answer.

Angry at her husband for making the suggestion, and at her son for being so rude in his refusal, Gracie turned hastily to Hetty. ‘There’s a sale on at Watt and Milne’s just
now, and they’ve got corsets from five shillings a pair.’

Her sister was most indignant. ‘I don’t need new corsets. The ones I have are firm enough, it’s this old skirt that’s all out of shape.’

Martin and Joe were talking about football, so Raymond and Neil thankfully joined in. Olive was staring straight ahead with a face like thunder, and Patsy winked at Queenie and shrugged, as if
to say, ‘Never mind her, she’s sulking.’

It was fury that was consuming Olive, not pique. Neil had insulted her in front of everybody but she would make him pay for it.

When Martin said they would have to go, they all stood up and Olive was amazed to see Neil tickling Queenie when she passed him on her way to get the coats from her bedroom. It was as if he
couldn’t keep his hands off her, and Olive’s heart felt crushed by a heavy weight. He might not be in love with the girl yet, but it was more than likely that he would be soon, if he
carried on like that. What could she do to prevent it? Neil would be angry if she said anything to him, but warning Queenie might be a good idea. She would say that she had a prior claim to Neil,
that they had an understanding, and the Londoner was so young that she would take it as gospel and discourage him.

Two days before his eighteenth birthday, Neil again tackled his father about joining the army, and this time Joe merely said, ‘You haven’t changed your mind,
then?’

‘No, I’m more determined than ever.’

‘Aye, well, that’s it, I suppose.’

Gracie did not interfere. Her husband, although he was an easygoing man as a rule, could dig his heels in if he felt like it, and her son was old enough to know his own mind. It was hard for her
to let him go but she couldn’t tie him to her apron strings for ever. In any case, it was four against one, because Patsy and Queenie were on Neil’s side, thrilled because one of the
family would be in the armed forces.

Only two weeks after his medical, a large envelope arrived for Neil. ‘I’ve to report on the second of December at Chilwell in Nottingham for training with the
Durham Light Infantry.’ Excitement was building up inside him. His dream was coming true at last.

‘I thought it was the Ordnance Corps you’d joined,’ Gracie observed, puzzled.

‘They’ve to do their infantry training first,’ Joe said, ‘and he’ll be sent to the Ordnance Corps after that. They’ll not turn down mechanics, though
they’ve just done two years of their apprenticeship.’

‘It’s all more experience,’ Neil pointed out. ‘I was told they’ll teach me about all kinds of vehicles.’

‘They haven’t given you much time,’ Gracie moaned. ‘Just two days?’

‘It’s long enough,’ Joe told her. ‘Tell your foreman when you go in that you’ll be stopping work tonight. You can go to Rubislaw Den tonight after teatime, and
that’ll let you have a free day tomorrow to let you do whatever you want.’

Neil would rather have slipped away with no fuss, but his mother would be disappointed if he didn’t say goodbye to her sister. ‘Mum, you’d better phone Hetty to let her know
I’ll be coming, but don’t tell her I’ve got my marching orders. I want to surprise them.’

‘I’m never sure if it was a good idea getting the phone in here,’ Gracie remarked. ‘I don’t mind the neighbours using it if they need a doctor, but sometimes they
take advantage and speak to their friends for ages. One or two, mentioning no names, just come to be nosey.’

Joe laughed. ‘They wouldn’t find out much when the phone’s in the lobby?’

‘Oh, they pop their heads round the kitchen door to tell me they’re finished. It’s just an excuse to see if I’ve got anything new. Fat chance of that!’

Neil did surprise Hetty Potter that night, when he told her when he had to leave. ‘Already? My goodness, they didn’t let you have much warning, did they?’

‘That’s what Mum said, but it’s better like this. I didn’t say anything to her, but I’m really looking forward to it.’

‘You young lads,’ his aunt smiled. ‘You can’t wait to get away from your mothers, can you? Thank heaven Raymond’s too young to go.’

Her son looked at Neil with envy. ‘I’ll join up as soon as I’m old enough. I just wish I could be going with you.’

Olive was less enthusiastic; she had hoped that Neil would not have to go for weeks yet, and she still hadn’t succeeded in getting him to say he liked her. Doing her best to hide her
dismay, she told him that she was pleased for him and kept a smile fixed firmly on her face.

Martin, who did not come home until nearly eight o’clock, also turned out to be envious of Neil. ‘I’ve been thinking of offering my services, but I’m probably too
old.’

‘I should think you are!’ Hetty burst out, indignant that her husband could even think of going. ‘You’ll be forty-one in three months, and you did your bit in the last
war.’

Martin shrugged wryly. ‘Not for very long, but I won’t do anything about it just yet.’

‘One of the lads who used to work with me joined the Royal Artillery a couple of years ago,’ Neil remarked. ‘He’s been in Egypt since before the war, the lucky blighter,
seeing the world at the army’s expense.’

‘You’ll probably see too much of the world before you’re done. On the other hand, you could meet a lovely girl, like I did, thousands of miles from home.’ Martin smiled
fondly at his wife.