Jenny's War (34 page)

‘No, no, I can manage. I’ve got the knack.’ She gave the curtains a final twitch and turned. ‘There, now we can put the light on.’

As she sashayed across the room in the half-light, Donald pulled in a deep breath, trying to quell his rising desire. He cleared his throat in embarrassment and tried to set his mind on something – anything – else. ‘I understand you have a daughter. I’d like to meet her.’

‘Yes. She’s only young,’ Dot emphasized, deliberately ignoring the fact that when the man saw Jenny for himself, as he was bound to do, he would see her as a blossoming young woman, not a child any more. ‘She looks a lot older than she really is. The war’s robbing our youngsters of their childhood.’

‘Is she still at school?’

Dot gave a helpless shrug and the lie slipped easily from her lips. ‘She should be, but as we’ve only just moved back here, she’s refusing to go back, saying it’s time she found a job.’

‘I might be able to help you there. She’ll have to register for work, of course, and might have to go where she’s sent, but if I can help in any way . . .’

‘Oh, Mr Jenkins,’ Dot clasped her hands together, ‘I don’t want her to go anywhere unsuitable. She’s such a little innocent.’ She dabbed her eyes gently with a handkerchief, but was careful not to smudge her make-up.

Donald nodded. ‘I understand, though, sadly, I’ve no children of my own. We – we were never blessed.’

‘
Weren’t
you? Oh, I am sorry. You’d have been a wonderful father, I’m sure. You seem such a kind and caring man.’

Donald smiled weakly, quite overcome by the warmth of her praise. It had been a long time since any woman, other than his customers, who he knew were only grateful to him for what he could offer in the way of extra rations – legitimately, of course – had made him feel worthwhile. He basked in the long-forgotten feeling.

‘I’ll get you that tea,’ Dot said and, as she passed his chair, she patted his hand.

Only eight days after the euphoria surrounding the news of D-Day, a new and terrifying weapon was unleashed on the stoic Londoners. Warnings were soon issued to the public that should they hear the strange buzzing of the pilotless aircraft’s engine suddenly cut out above them, they should seek shelter immediately, for at that point the weapon would dive towards the ground and explode on impact.

‘As if we haven’t had enough,’ Dot grumbled. ‘No time to get to the underground with these blessed doodlebugs.’

‘At least we’ve got a Morrison in the front room, Mum,’ Jenny said reasonably.

‘If you think I’m sleeping in there, you’ve got another think coming.’ She fluffed her hair as she added, ‘I’ve got better things to do with my nights.’

Donald had begun calling two or three times a week after he’d closed the shop. Gradually, the sad little story of his home life emerged.

‘I don’t want to malign my wife. She’s a wonderful woman in many ways. She’s very good at organizing and – and running things. I expect she’s a great asset to the WVS. And she wasn’t always so – so cold. When we were courting and even when we were first married, she was always busy and lively, but she’s never been what you’d call an affectionate woman, not like – ’ here, he’d paused and gazed into Dot’s eyes. She leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. ‘You’re welcome here any time, Donald. You know that.’

And so the visits became even more frequent until the whole neighbourhood was aware of Donald Jenkins trotting down the street with a little parcel of goodies under his arm.

‘I thought it wouldn’t be long before that little mare had another feller in tow,’ Gladys remarked to Elsie over the backyard wall.

‘And he’s a married man. She’s never gone for a married man before.’

‘As far as you know, Elsie. We didn’t know a fat lot about that Arfer, now did we?’

‘True, but I’m more worried about what effect it’s having on young Jenny. She spends a lot of time at our house now. Keeping out of their way I suppose.’

‘Best thing, as long as she’s no trouble to you.’

‘None at all. She’s a real help about the place.’ Elsie laughed wryly. ‘Boys think housework’s beneath them.’

‘Shame she’s not your daughter, Elsie, she’d’ve had a much better life than the one she’s got with that mother of hers.’

Jenny saw little of Donald; she always made sure she was in her bedroom or at the Huttons’ house when he was due to call, which was most nights of the week now. But, inevitably, they were bound to meet now and again.

‘Donald’s coming for his tea on Sunday,’ Dot told her. ‘Now just you make sure you’re nice to him. He was going to ask around about a job for you.’

‘But I’ve registered for work. I’ve got to wait until—’

‘No harm in seeing what he’s got to say.’ She gripped Jenny’s arm tightly until the girl winced. ‘You be nice to him, you hear me? We’re in there, so you just do whatever he ses.’

Anger surged through Jenny as she thrust her face close to her mother’s. ‘And he’s got a
wife
in the big house, so just how d’you intend to get rid of her, eh?’

‘No need.’ Dot smiled. ‘I’m not anticipating marrying him. I just want what he can give us – for the moment.’

‘But he worships you, Mum. I can see it in his eyes. More than any of the others. I – I think he really loves you.’

‘There you are, then. Like I said, we’re in there.’

‘But—’

‘No “buts”, miss. Just do as I say. Be nice to him.’

Donald came with good news. ‘I’ve talked to the authorities and they’ve agreed that I can take Jenny on to help out in the shop. There’s such a lot of paperwork with all the rationing and the coupons. There, now what do you think to that?’ He beamed at them both and Dot gave a little squeal of delight and flung her arms round his neck, pressing herself to him.

But Jenny was thinking, Oh no! Not again. Not working in a shop receiving stolen goods and serving the customers with under-the-counter black market produce. I can’t bear it. But her mother’s words still rang in her ears:
Be nice to Donald. You do whatever he asks you to do.

There was no escape for the young girl. If only she could run away. But, now, there was nowhere for her to run.

But Jenny had been wrong about one thing; Donald Jenkins was not taking part in any black market schemes. Even when Elsie had told her that he was an honest trader, Jenny hadn’t wholeheartedly believed her. But now she saw it for herself. If anyone approached him, they were sent packing, as Donald Jenkins said himself, with a flea in their ear.

‘I don’t hold with it, Jenny,’ he told her.

Jenny said a silent prayer of thanks that her new employer was not like the last. She shuddered as she realized just how close she and her mother had come to being questioned by the police, if not worse. Perhaps they might have ended up being arrested as accomplices.

Donald was like Jim in other ways, though; he was kind to her mother and to her. He bought them little treats and when Dot said that she would have to look for work for Jenny’s pay wouldn’t pay the rent and all the other household bills, he at once reduced the rent to a mere pittance so that they could manage.

‘I’m surprised you haven’t been commandeered for war work, my dear,’ he said to Dot, but she merely smiled and said, ‘I don’t expect they want someone like me. I’m not much good at anything.’

‘I’m sure you are. The very sight of you raises a man’s spirits,’ Donald said gallantly. But it still puzzled him why she was not gainfully employed in helping the war effort in some way. Whilst he deplored the way that his wife had rushed so enthusiastically into it, he nevertheless agreed that all able-bodied women who no longer had young children to care for should do something. But every time he broached the subject, Dot was evasive.

For several weeks, Jenny was happy in her work. The shop, though cool to help preserve the foodstuffs, was not freezing like the butcher’s shop had been. And on cooler days, Donald let her work in the storeroom or in the office, checking the coupons and filling out the official forms. And there was the added bonus of seeing Bobby every day. The friendship the two had shared as youngsters was still as strong as ever.

In August, the day after Jenny’s fifteenth birthday, the Allies marched into Paris and four long years of Nazi occupation for them was over. By September Belgium was free but, at the same time, London was faced with another, even more sophisticated weapon than the doodlebugs. These were Hitler’s V-2s, long-range rockets that gave no warning sound. At first the Londoners thought the massive explosions were gasworks, but before long they realized they were yet again under bombardment.

In the view of many, the end of the war was in sight as German troops were pushed back, but the fighting was not over.

‘’Itler’ll not give in,’ Elsie said, still fretting over her boys. ‘He’ll fight to the death.’ And in the January of 1945, Sammy, at just eighteen, was called up too.

‘You won’t have to go, Bobby, will you?’

‘If it lasts another eighteen months, I will,’ he said cheerfully, loading the boxes of groceries on to the back of the cart in the yard behind Donald’s shop. ‘In the meantime, I’d better get these deliveries taken out else I’ll have all the customers gunning for me, ne’er mind ’Itler.’

‘Watch out for the rockets,’ she warned.

Bobby pulled a face. ‘Least I won’t know a lot about it, Jen.’

Jenny watched him manoeuvre the cart out of the yard and sent up a silent prayer for his safety.

Jenny turned to go back into the office with a sigh. There was a lot of paperwork awaiting her and she hoped that Donald would be kept busy in the shop. She enjoyed the work and being close to Bobby, but there was one thing that bothered her; sometimes Donald would come and stand close to her chair as she worked at the desk in the office. Then he would put his hand on her shoulder as he leaned over to explain something to her. It seemed innocent enough, but his closeness made Jenny’s skin crawl. She settled herself in the room at the back of the shop and began to sort out the ration books. About mid-afternoon, she paused to rub her eyes and make a pot of tea, carrying a cup through to Donald in the shop.

‘Ta, darlin’. Most welcome. How’s the paperwork going?’

Jenny pulled a face. ‘All right. Seems such a lot of it this month. I’d better get back to it.’

She was still working, checking the invoices against the deliveries, when closing time came and Donald came through to the back where Jenny was standing on a stepladder, piling boxes on to a high shelf. She could feel him watching her and she was about to step down, when she felt him touch her ankle and then slide his hand up the calf of her leg. She spun round, almost toppling off the stepladder. She regained her balance, climbed down quickly and turned to face him, her eyes blazing.

‘How dare you?’ she began, but he backed away, holding out his hands as if to ward off her attack.

‘I’m sorry, Jenny. I didn’t mean any harm. I thought you might fall, I—’

‘You nearly
made
me fall,’ she hissed.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said again. ‘It’s just—’

‘You’re nothing but a dirty old man.’

‘Jenny, please don’t tell your mother. I beg you. It’ll never happen again, I swear.’

‘You’re right there. It won’t.’

Jenny moved towards the back door, snatching her jacket from the peg. She turned towards him briefly. ‘You know what you can do with your job. And if you take my advice, you won’t come round our house again.’

With that parting shot, she dragged open the door and hurried out, slamming it behind her with a finality that left Donald in no doubt as to what she intended to do.

‘You stupid little bitch! What on earth have you done?’

Jenny gasped in the face of her mother’s anger. ‘What have
I
done? It’s what he’s done. Don’t you understand?’

‘Oh, I understand all right. You just might have scuppered the best thing we’ve ever had.’

‘But – but he touched me. He stroked my leg. He—’

‘For goodness’ sake, girl. He’s a
man
! It’s what they do. And I told you to be nice to him.’

Jenny stared at her, wide-eyed with horror. ‘You – you mean me to put up with – with that sort of thing?’

‘Don’t be such a stuck-up little prude, Jen. How d’yer think we’re going to survive the war if we don’t have help from the likes of Donald Jenkins? He’s reduced our rent and he nearly keeps us in groceries. And—’

Jenny put her hands over her ears. ‘I don’t want to hear any more. I won’t listen.’

‘You bloody well will listen to me.’ Dot grasped Jenny’s wrists and pulled her hands down. She thrust her face close to her daughter’s, her spittle raining on Jenny’s face as she spat, ‘You will go back this minute to the shop and you’ll apologize. You’ll say you didn’t understand and—’

‘I won’t! I won’t go back there. I don’t want to see him again.’

‘Well, I do.’ Dot’s grip tightened. ‘So you’ll do as I say, or else—’

Jenny wrenched herself free and headed for the front door. As she pulled it open she turned back and pointed a finger at her mother. ‘Go yerself, ’cos I’m not going anywhere near that – that – ’ She was stuck for a word to describe what she felt about Donald Jenkins, so she just ended her sentence with a low, menacing growl and slammed the door with such a force that it shuddered on its hinges.

By the time she arrived at Elsie’s, Jenny was weeping tears of anger, frustration and fear.

‘Aw, darlin’, whatever’s the matter? Come in, come in.’

Elsie’s arm was comfortingly around her shoulders and she was leading her to the warmth of the fire. ‘You’re trembling, love. And you’ve come out without yer coat. What’s happened?’

‘Is Bobby in?’

‘No. He’s out with his mates. Is it him you want to see?’

Jenny shook her head. ‘No – no, I’d rather he didn’t know. At least, not yet. Oh Aunty Elsie, whatever am I to do?’

‘Tell me what’s the matter first, then we’ll see, eh?’ She stroked Jenny’s hair back from her tear-stained face. ‘Sit down and tell me all about it.’

‘I can’t stand it any longer. Today was the last straw . . .’ She was tempted to tell Elsie everything, right from the time they’d left London sneaking away in the middle of the night in Arthur’s van. All about their time in Derbyshire and how he’d involved her in his criminal activities. But she couldn’t. Something was still holding her back from confiding in anyone about that. Instead, she concentrated on the recent months working for Donald Jenkins.