Home Front Girls (22 page)

Dear Miss Ford,

I am writing to you at the first opportunity to tell you that your sister is well. My husband is the vicar of this parish and Mary is now staying with us at the vicarage until such a time as it is deemed safe for her to return home to you. We also have another little girl staying with us from the East End who has very much taken Mary under her wing. Mary is healthy and eating and sleeping well, and I am putting my address at the top of the page so that you may write to her or visit her whenever you wish. Mary is a delightful child and as good as gold, a real credit to you. I understand how hard the separation must be for you, my dear, but rest assured that Mary is being very well cared for.

Yours sincerely,

Susan Manners

Whenever Lucy thought of Mary now, which was often, she would touch the letter, which somehow brought Mary a little closer and gave her comfort – not that there was much to be felt today. Everyone was thinking of poor Elsie and the handsome young husband she had lost. War truly was a terrible thing.

The girls decided to get some fresh air during their lunch break that day and wandered around the city centre, enjoying the feel of the warm May sunshine on their faces after the harsh winter they had just endured. They were now all allowed to serve the customers in their various departments and felt as if they had been working at Owen Owen forever.

‘I’m going to London again on Thursday,’ Dotty told them casually after a time and Annabelle winked at Lucy mischievously.

‘Oh, are you now?’ she teased. ‘And are you still writing to each other?’

‘Of course we are. How else are we supposed to discuss my work when I’m not on the phone?’ Dotty answered defensively. Every time they passed a newsagent’s she had to stop herself from rushing in and buying every copy of
Woman’s Heart
she could find. She doubted she would ever get over the thrill of seeing her name in print each month.

‘Well, I would have thought it would be just a matter of posting them a story off each month and waiting for the cheque to arrive. But never mind about that – what are you going to wear? You can’t wear the same outfit again.’

‘Mm, I hadn’t thought of that.’ Her London outfit, as she now thought of it, was the only decent one Dotty owned, but Annabelle did have a point. The trouble was, there wasn’t much choice in the shops any more.

‘You could always borrow one of my blouses and wear it with your suit skirt,’ Annabelle offered. ‘At least it would give it a different look. What about the blue one with the Peter Pan collar that you like? You could wear my string of pearls to go with it too.’

‘I think I’d be too afraid of losing them,’ Dotty answered. ‘But I will take you up on the offer of the blouse, if you’re sure you don’t mind?’

‘I wouldn’t have offered if I did, would I?’ Annabelle said in her usual forthright way. They were at the steps of St Michael’s Cathedral by then, and on the spur of the moment Lucy suggested, ‘Why don’t we go in and light a candle and say a prayer for all the people who we’re missing?’

Annabelle shrugged but followed the other two into the enormous cathedral just the same. After stepping out of the bright sunshine the interior was gloomy and they all blinked as their eyes adjusted to the light, but then the cathedral worked its magic on them and they all stared up in awe at the beautiful stained-glass windows. Dotty and Lucy had visited the cathedral many times, and it never failed to move them. It was so peaceful within that it was hard to believe that even as they stood there, men and women were fighting to save their country and magnificent buildings like this. Even Annabelle was silenced for a time. Eventually they approached the altar, where they each took candles and lit them, then they sat on the hard wooden pews, bowed their heads and said silent prayers for the loved ones from whom they were parted.

Strangely enough, they all felt a little happier and more optimistic as they made their way back to work.

Lucy slumped onto the sofa when she got home from work. She was shattered and had just started to drop off when there was a tap on the door and she opened it to find Mr P standing on the step.

‘Oh, I was going to pop round when I’d had something to eat and—’ Her voice stopped abruptly as she noted Mr P’s red eyes. He looked as if he had been crying and was shuffling from foot to foot uncomfortably.

‘What’s wrong?’ A cold hand closed around her heart and she knew that she was going to hear bad news.

‘I er . . . I were wonderin’ if you’d come round an’ see the missus?’ he said miserably. ‘We’ve had bad news, see. A telegram.’

‘Oh no!’ Lucy’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Is – is it young Freddy?’

He nodded. ‘They say he’s missin’, and I can’t do a thing wi’ our gel. Would yer come, love? I’d appreciate it. She thinks the world o’ you an’ yer might be able to stop her cryin’. I certainly bloody can’t.’

‘Of course I’ll come.’ Lucy ran back into the kitchen and turned the kettle off, and seconds later she was following Mr P across the shared yard to his back door.

She found her neighbour sitting clutching the telegram with tears streaming down her face.

‘Look, love, young Lucy’s here,’ Fred told her, but for a while Mrs P didn’t even seem to hear him. She was locked away in her own little world of grief.

‘See what I mean?’ he muttered brokenly as his own eyes brimmed with tears. ‘She don’t even seem to know that I’m here.’

‘Mrs P?’ Lucy said gently, but she got no reaction whatsoever. It was only when she tried to take the telegram from the woman’s hand that she suddenly rounded on her. ‘’Ere, gerroff, will yer,’ she yelled. ‘That’s
my
telegram tellin’ me about me lovely lad.’

Then slowly her eyes seemed to focus and she fell limply into Lucy’s arms as sobs shook her big body. ‘Eeh, me lovely boy’s gone.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Lucy said soothingly as she rocked her to and fro. ‘The telegram says that he’s
missing
– and unless you hear otherwise you have to hold on to that. He’s most probably alive somewhere. It doesn’t say he’s dead, does it?’

Mrs P’s sobs subsided as she looked at Lucy hopefully. ‘Do yer really reckon that might be the case?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Lucy nodded firmly. ‘You must
never
give up hope. He might have been injured and be in a hospital somewhere, admittedly, or he might even have been taken prisoner, but either of those options are better than being told that he’s dead, aren’t they?’

‘Yer right,’ Mrs P said, clutching at straws. ‘An’ when they find him they’ll let me know, won’t they?’

‘Of course they will,’ Lucy said with an assurance she was far from feeling. ‘So it’s all the more important that you don’t give up on him, isn’t it? And now I’m going to make you and Mr P a nice strong cup of tea and I’m going to put a drop of brandy in it. Do you have any left over from Christmas?’

‘Aye, it’s in that cupboard over there. That’s a good idea, love,’ Mrs P said in a croaky voice. She was still badly shaken up but at least Lucy had given her a glimmer of hope. She hated to think of Freddy hurt or captured by the enemy, but anything was better than being told he was dead, and the war couldn’t go on forever, could it?

By the time Lucy got back to her own little house she felt as if she had been wrung out like a dishcloth. She hated to see Mr and Mrs P so upset, they were such good people and they had been so kind to her and Joel and Mary. She just hoped that she had managed to make them feel a little better, but deep down she wondered if Freddy really was all right. Only time would tell now.

On Thursday Robert was waiting at Euston for Dotty and when she stepped down from the train his face broke into a friendly smile.

‘Why, you look lovely!’ he exclaimed as he pulled her arm through his and headed in the direction of the nearest café. ‘Let’s go and have a cuppa, eh? I’ve no doubt you’ll be ready for one after your journey.’

Her cheeks pink from the compliment, Dotty said, ‘But won’t they be waiting for us at the office?’

‘Ah, well, that’s the nice thing about being the boss,’ Robert told her with a wink. ‘I can come and go pretty much as I please, although to be honest I don’t think they’d really miss me if I never went in. Laura has that place running like clockwork. Between you and me, I don’t know what I’d do without her.’

Dotty felt an unexpected stab of jealousy. It sounded as if Robert was very fond of Laura, but then she asked herself, why shouldn’t he be? Laura was a very attractive woman, and clever and efficient too, going by what he had just said.

They were in a small café now and he sat her down at a vacant table before rushing off to the counter. She watched him through a blue haze of cigarette smoke, and was impressed at how well he could manage with just one good hand. In no time at all he was back with a thick china cup and saucer for her, and then another one for himself. He pushed the sugar bowl towards her.

‘Laura is really looking forward to seeing you again,’ he told Dotty. ‘She’s delighted with the stories you’ve been sending in and I’m really looking forward to having a peep at this book you’ve been writing. I know it’s not finished yet, but you did bring it with you, didn’t you?’

She nodded as she patted her bag before saying, ‘Well, yes, I did – but I didn’t think the magazine would be interested in novels – and it really isn’t that good,’ she added hastily.

‘You are right – the magazine wouldn’t be interested,’ he acknowledged. ‘But being in this business, I have a lot of editor friends who might be. And as for it not being that good . . . Well, I’ll tell you truthfully what I think of it when I’ve read it.’

Soon afterwards they strolled to the magazine headquarters arm in arm. Laura was waiting for them and was full of praise about the stories that had been printed so far.

‘They’re just so . . .’ she sought for the right words to describe them before saying, ‘simple, I suppose is the word I’m looking for, and what I mean by that is, your characters are very believable, so much so that our readers feel they can relate to them.’

‘There you are then,’ Robert teased. ‘If Laura says they’re good then they’re good, madam!’

Again Dotty felt a twinge of jealousy as she noted how easy Robert and Laura were with each other. She left her book with Laura – or what she had written so far, all neatly typed – and then Robert once again insisted on taking her out to lunch.

‘Where would you like to go?’ he asked.

Dotty shook her head. ‘I really don’t mind, but it doesn’t have to be anywhere too expensive.’

‘In that case, how about we go and feed the pigeons and call into a café somewhere for lunch? Then we might even have time to take a boat-ride along the Thames before you catch your train home.’

Her face lit up at the thought of it as he steered her towards a taxi and soon they were at the steps of St Paul’s Cathedral throwing the seed he had bought for her to the hungry birds. There seemed to be thousands of them and Dotty couldn’t stop smiling. When they entered the beautiful building Dotty was rendered momentarily speechless, even more so when they climbed up to the Whispering Gallery and on up to the inner Golden Gallery. And then they were on the outer gallery and London lay spread around them, so changed since the beginning of the war. She was breathless by then after climbing over five hundred steps.

‘There’s Wimbledon Common over to the west there – look,’ Robert pointed out. ‘And over there is Tilbury Docks. That’s Greenwich and the Observatory over to the southeast.’

Still breathless, she could only nod.

After their visit to St Paul’s, he took her into a modest café where they ate fish and chips, and finally they sailed along the River Thames. Robert gestured at the Tower of London with his good arm and Dotty beamed. She would have so much to tell Annabelle and Lucy when she got home. She was just sad that the day had to end.

‘Everywhere is just so huge!’ Dotty exclaimed as she gazed about her. It was exciting to see all the buildings rearing up on each bank of the river. But even here she could not escape from the fact that there was a war on. There were very few young men about and those who were, were mainly in some sort of uniform.

Robert smiled indulgently. Because he lived in London he took all these sights for granted, but it was gratifying to see Dotty enjoying herself, and the more she relaxed the more he thought what a truly nice young lady she was. ‘Where would you like to go now?’ he asked, having as good a time as she was.

Glancing at the cheap watch on her wrist, Dotty said regretfully, ‘As much as I’d like to carry on, I think I ought to be heading back to the station now or I might miss my train.’ The day had passed in the blink of an eye.

‘Right you are then, but on the way we’ll call in for a cup of tea, eh?’

They stopped off in a Lyons Corner House and the tea was accompanied by a sticky bun. After she had eaten it, Dotty joked, ‘It’s a good job I don’t come here too often. The way you feed me up I’d soon be as fat as a pig.’

He shook his head. ‘I doubt that very much. You aren’t as far through as a clothes prop!’

Again a stab of jealousy reared its ugly head as a picture of Laura’s womanly figure flashed in front of Dotty’s eyes, but she forced a smile as he chivalrously helped her back into the lovely blue swing coat that Miranda had given her. She wondered why it should bother her so much. After all, Robert had never behaved as anything less than a perfect gentleman and a friend.