Home Front Girls (35 page)

‘Hmm . . . Well, no doubt it’ll sort itself out. They do say the path of true love never runs smooth,’ Mrs P commented.

Lucy yawned again. ‘I dare say you’re right, but now if you don’t mind I’m going to take Harry round home and get an early night. I could do with matchsticks to prop my eyes open at the minute. In fact, today during a quiet spell I almost fell asleep at work. I dread to think what Mrs Broadstairs would have said if she’d found me snoozing.’

Mrs P chuckled as she envisaged the scene. She loved to hear about the staff that Lucy worked with, and some of the customers she served. Mrs Broadstairs was now apparently making no secret of the fact that she and Mr Bradley were finally a couple.

Once back in her own home, Lucy fed Harry then warmed up some soup she had made the day before for herself. She was just too tired to bother to cook tonight, and praying that she would get an unbroken night’s sleep – but it wasn’t to be. She was just washing up her dishes when the air-raid sirens began to wail. Glancing at the clock she saw that it was only just gone 7 p.m. and she groaned as Harry rushed over to her and hid his head in her skirt. He hated the sirens. Grabbing him by the collar, Lucy led him out into the yard where Mr and Mrs P were emerging from their back door.

‘I reckon it’s gonna be a bad ’un tonight,’ Mrs P told the girl as she ushered her towards the Anderson shelter. ‘Our Fred’s just had the wireless on an’ they reckon the first wave o’ bombers have just flown across the coast at Dorset. They’re headin’ our way an’ all, God help us.’ Glancing up at the sky, she sighed. ‘An’ on such a beautiful night an’ all! Would yer just look at that moon an’ them stars. There must be at least a million of ’em.’

But even as she spoke, the drone of the planes sounded above the sirens. ‘Christ Almighty, they’re droppin’ incendiaries. Get into the shelter quick!’ Mrs P pushed Lucy ahead of her but not before the girl had time to see the first bomb float down towards the city. The sight was followed by the sound of a deafening explosion and Harry began to whimper pathetically as Lucy sat down and pulled him to her.

‘Bastards!’
Mrs P shouted as her husband managed to slam the door shut, and then the shelter shook as another bomb dropped dangerously close to them. Lucy felt about for the candles and matches that Mrs P always kept in there, and once she had located them she lit two candles with trembling fingers. She had never known the bombs to drop so close before. Normally the Germans targeted the factories, but tonight it appeared that they were aiming for the city centre. Once, when Fred dared to peek outside, he saw wave after wave of bombers flying overhead and dropping their loads with terrifying regularity. Within minutes the smell of fires reached them and he could see flames licking up into the sky. The Bofors and the ack-acks had growled into life now and searchlights probed the sky as they swept this way and that, but the attack was so severe that the guns on the ground were having little effect. They heard the bells on the fire engines as the men raced to do what they could, but somehow they all knew that whilst so many bombs were dropping, the firemen would be fighting a losing battle.

Then came the sound of the high-explosive bombs, and Mr P said worriedly. ‘If they hit the water-pipes, the firemen will have nothin’ to fight the fires with. They’re droppin’ them to make holes in the roofs. Then it sounds like they’re droppin’ the incendiaries to light the fires.’

He placed his arm protectively around his wife’s shaking shoulders and they sat there feeling totally useless as the lovely city of Coventry was destroyed around their ears.

Over at Primrose Lodge, Annabelle and her mother were down in the cellar.

‘Here, put this round your shoulders to keep you warm,’ Miranda told her daughter.

The girl took the blanket from her without a word, showing no emotion whatsoever. But then Miranda was not surprised. Annabelle had been like this ever since the disclosure about her birth at her twenty-first party.

‘Don’t worry, darling, it will be over soon,’ Miranda told her as they listened to the terrifying drone overhead, followed by a loud bang.

Annabelle shrugged. She wasn’t much bothered how long it went on now; in fact, she wasn’t much bothered about anything any more. Admittedly her mother still treated her exactly the same as she had before, but as far as Annabelle was concerned nothing was the same now that she knew about her true parentage. And so they sat on in silence as Miranda desperately tried to think of something to say that would bring her daughter back to her. At last, however, Miranda rose, saying apologetically, ‘I shall have to leave you now, sweetheart. I shall be needed tonight and I must get to the church hall. But you should be quite safe here.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Annabelle said dully. ‘Anything is better than just sitting here not knowing what’s going on, and I dare say it will be a case of the more hands the merrier if the bombing continues.’

Miranda chewed on her lips, hating the thought of this precious girl being out on the streets during a raid. But she knew better than to argue with Annabelle once she had made her mind up, so she allowed the girl to follow her up the cellar steps.

Over on the Kenilworth Road Miss Timms and Dotty were also sheltering in their cellar. Dotty was almost beside herself with fear as she thought of Robert in London. Was he safe? And then she finally had to admit to herself that she loved him,
truly
loved him, and she knew that if anything should happen to him there would be no point in living. It was funny when she came to think of it; she had seen so many hurdles between them – his age, his upbringing – and yet none of that mattered now, and had he been there, she would have told him how she felt even if she risked learning that her feelings were not returned.

When she began to cry, Miss Timms cuddled her.

‘Don’t cry, sweetheart,’ she urged tenderly. ‘I’ve got you safe and I won’t let anything happen to you.’

‘I – I wasn’t crying for me,’ Dotty whimpered. ‘I was crying for Robert. Oh Miss Timms, I’ve been such a fool. I think I’ve loved him since the first second I set eyes on him, but I was too afraid to tell him. I felt that I wasn’t good enough for him so I’ve deliberately backed off and held him at arm’s length. And now I may never get the chance to tell him. What shall I do if anything happens to him?’

‘Oh, my poor Dotty.’ The woman was distressed to see the dear girl so upset. ‘If it’s God’s will he’ll survive,’ she murmured, and Dotty could only pray that she was right. And then the very room trembled and they both cowered as lumps of plaster rained down on them.

‘I think the house has taken a hit,’ Miss Timms murmured as she spat out plaster dust.

Dotty’s eyes stretched wide with panic. ‘Then that means that we are trapped down here,’ she breathed.

‘If we are, they’ll dig us out,’ Miss Timms said calmly, although her own heart was beating fast now. But then if she was to die she could think of no one she would rather be with, and suddenly the time for the truth was upon her. She didn’t want to take her secret to the grave with her.

‘Dotty . . . I have something that I must tell you,’ she began. ‘And I fear that once I have told you, if we get out of here alive you may never want to see me again.’

Dotty peeped up at her, her face pale in the light from the flickering candle.

‘The thing is . . .’ the woman went on, ‘I know how much you have always wanted to know who your mother was – and well, I happen to know. You see,
I
am your mother.’

‘What?’ Dotty eyes were transfixed on the woman now and Miss Timms squirmed uncomfortably.

‘B-but you
can’t
be,’ Dotty breathed, feeling as if she was caught up in some sort of a dream. ‘And if you really
are
my mother, why did you abandon me and leave me in the orphanage all those years?’

‘I – I had no choice,’ the woman informed her brokenly above the roar of explosions. ‘But please let me at least explain and then you might understand.’

When Dotty did not object she took a deep breath before going on. ‘My mother was a very strict religious woman, as I think I may have told you,’ she began. ‘I was her and Father’s only child and I had the best education that money could buy. I went to a private convent school as Mother wanted me to make something of myself and marry well.’ She snorted then. ‘Unfortunately, although I had the brains, I was somewhat of a plain Jane, so the last part might have proved to be somewhat difficult. Anyway, I left school and enrolled at a secretarial college. I quite enjoyed it, and when I had completed the course I found a job as a receptionist in an office. I soon developed a crush on one of the bosses there. I had never been in love before and was sadly lacking in confidence, but amazingly he found me attractive and before I knew it we were having an affair.’ Miss Timms sighed. ‘He was some years older than me and before too long I discovered that he was a married man and my whole world fell apart. The problem was, he kept telling me that he was going to leave his wife so that we could be together. Young and naïve as I was, I believed him.’

She shook her head as memories rushed back. ‘Then another woman in the office began to suspect that there was something going on between us, and she privately tried to warn me off him. She said I was a fool and that nothing could ever come of it, but I wouldn’t listen to her. Of course, I was furious and told her to mind her own business. I know now that she was only trying to help me. Perhaps she had been in a similar situation herself, once. You think you know it all at that age, don’t you? And then one day I came home to find a very attractive woman in the kitchen with Mother. She was his wife and she’d gotten wind of our affair. Mother was absolutely furious and forbade me from ever seeing him again. She even locked me in my room for a few days until I agreed. But of course, she couldn’t lock me away forever, and as soon as she let me out I headed back to the office to find him. That was a big mistake. He told me that he did love me, but found he couldn’t bring himself to leave his wife because of the children. I was totally devastated, and yet I admired him for putting his children first. He was a good man, you see? And then I missed my next period.’

Miss Timms gulped deep in her throat as a tear plopped off the end of her nose. ‘I’m ashamed to admit that I thought of getting rid of the baby but I didn’t know who to go to or who to ask for help, so I just said nothing and foolishly believed I could keep it a secret. Eventually Mother confronted me and I had to admit that I was pregnant. We had lost Father by then and she had taken his loss badly, so although I wanted to keep my baby I knew that I couldn’t leave Mother all alone. I never stepped out of the house again after that for months. And I didn’t tell your father about you either. It wouldn’t have been fair on him.

‘On the night that you were born, Mother paid someone to come to the house to deliver you. I never knew who it was, but you were such a beautiful baby and I realised then that I couldn’t bear to part with you. I told her so. And then a couple of days later I woke up one morning to find that you were missing from your crib. I begged Mother to tell me what she had done with you, but she refused to say. She just said that you were safe and that I must put it all behind me now. And then a few days later I read in the newspaper about a baby being abandoned on the steps of the orphanage and I guessed that it could only be you. So I went and applied for a job there. I knew that I could never bring you home, Mother would never have allowed that and it would have caused a terrible scandal if I had admitted that you were mine. But at least by working there I could see you and be near you every day.’

Miss Timms leaned forward and said passionately, ‘Oh Dotty, I was so proud as I watched you grow up, and you’ll never know how many times I was tempted to tell you who I was. I knew how much you longed to know your true parentage and it tore me apart when you told me about your mummy who would come for you one day. But by then Mother was gravely ill with a heart condition and I knew that the shock would kill her, and much as I hated her I couldn’t bear to have her death on my conscience. And then she died and I thought, At last I can tell her! I almost did, but by then I was too afraid of how you would react. I feared that you would hate me and never see me again. Somehow your father found out that I’d given birth to you shortly after Mother took you away. I often wonder if it was she who told him when she knew that it was too late for him to do anything about it. That’s just the sort of malicious thing Mother would have done. He was utterly distraught to know that he had a daughter somewhere whom he would never know. But I sent him away. There was nothing either of us could do without hurting his family, and they didn’t deserve that. But one day when the time is right I will tell you who your father is, Dotty. I think this is more than enough of a shock for you to take in. I’m
so
sorry, my dear. So very, very sorry.’

As if in a trance, Dotty stared into space as visions flashed in front of her eyes. Miss Timms working late, so that she could read her a bedtime story. Miss Timms picking her up and kissing her better when she tripped and fell. The many little treats the woman would sneak into the orphanage for her. It all made sense now and surprisingly, rather than be angry she felt as if a lead weight had been lifted from her heart. For the first time in her life she could hold her head up and know who she belonged to. It was a curious, wonderful feeling.

‘I think I understand,’ she told the woman softly. ‘And I appreciate you telling me now. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.’