Moonlight and Ashes (7 page)

When she arrived home that evening she found the twins playing in the Anderson shelter with Carol and Tony from next door. They whooped with delight when the gate swung open and they saw her before flinging themselves into her arms.

‘Grandma made us some faggots an’ chips fer us tea, Mam,’ Danny informed her as he rubbed his stomach. ‘Cor, they weren’t half nice, an’ she’s got some ready fer you an’ Dad an’ all. She’s in the kitchen with our Lucy.’

‘Well, I’d better go an’ join her then so as she can get back across the road to Grandad Bill eh?’ She stroked their hair affectionately before trudging towards the back door after casting a regretful glance at the shelter. This time last year, the little garden where it now stood had been full of daffodils in tight buds about to burst into glorious life. Primroses had peeped from beneath the hedges that separated the pocket-handkerchief gardens, but now the only colour was the dark brown earth that the men had shovelled across the shiny corrugated metal roof. Still, at least it had made a good playhouse for the children, she thought, and prayed that was all it would ever be.

Ellen looked up from the sink as she entered and flashed her a smile. ‘So how’s it gone today then, love?’

Gratefully kicking her shoes off, Maggie sank onto the chair at the side of the table. ‘Fine, but me feet feel like they’re gonna drop off. I’m not used to standing on a production line all day long yet.’ As she spoke she unhooked the suspenders on her stockings and rolled them down her legs then wriggled her toes and sighed with relief. ‘Ah, that’s better.’

‘I dare say yer wouldn’t say no to a cup o’ tea then?’

Maggie laughed. ‘Mam, at this moment in time, I reckon I could drain the pot.’

Her mother began to strain the tea into a cup and as she took it from her, Maggie asked, ‘How’s Her Ladyship been today?’

Following Maggie’s eyes to Lucy, who was curled up in a ball on the settee fast asleep, she smiled. ‘Good as gold, though I’d be a liar to say she didn’t miss you. When you first leave is the worst time. She screams fit to waken the dead for a solid half an’ hour. But then she settles down, an’ by the time the twins get home from school she’s as right as rain.’

Maggie chewed on her lip as she stared at the child over the rim of her cup. There were certain things about being a working woman again that she thoroughly enjoyed. For a start off, Lizzie and Danny were now sporting a brand new pair of shoes each, not to mention new skirts and trousers. Working also meant that she didn’t have to go cap in hand to Sam for every single penny, and for the first time since she’d been married she had made a friend. Eileen was the young woman who stood next to her at the conveyor belt at work. At twenty-six, with curly dark hair and eyes that were full of fun, Eileen was only two years younger than herself, yet seemed much younger in spirits. Probably because as yet she and her husband hadn’t been blessed with children, though from what Maggie could make of it, it wasn’t for the lack of trying. Sadly, Eileen’s husband had now been called up, and every day at work started with excerpts from the last letter he had written to her, which Eileen carried around in the breast-pocket of her overall.

Yes, to all intents and purposes, going back to work had been a good thing - and yet . . . As Maggie stared at her tiny daughter she felt a pang of resentment. Sam had been surprisingly accepting of the situation once it came about. Probably because her working had barely affected his routine at all. Each night he came home to his meal on the table just as he always had. Added to that, he now had a little more money in his pocket for trips to the local pub. It was Maggie who stayed up every night when the children were tucked up in bed catching up with the washing and ironing and housework. Only last week Sam had returned from one of his jaunts to find her polishing the front doorstep with red polish in the dark.

‘You must be mad, woman,’ he had muttered before lurching off unsteadily down the entry. Maggie narrowed her eyes and sent evil thoughts boring into his back but he just carried on his way. Sam’s indifference and the long work hours she could cope with. It was having to leave the children that troubled her, particularly Lucy, who was becoming somewhat of a grandma’s girl.

Still, at the end of the day there was a war on and everyone was making sacrifices one way or another so she supposed she shouldn’t complain. And it was nice not to have to be totally reliant on Sam. A little smile played around her lips at the thought. Never in all her married life had she ever stood up to him before and it felt good, almost as if she was taking control of her own life again.

The happy chant floated around Maggie as she stepped past the children who were playing in the late-afternoon sunshine in Howard Street. Some of them had chalked on the pavements and were so engrossed in their game of hopscotch that they barely noticed her passing.

Up ahead, Maggie noticed a young woman who had recently started at the factory and she quickened her footsteps to catch up with her.

‘Nice to be out in the fresh air again, isn’t it?’ she chirped conversationally when she came abreast.

The young woman glared at her. Ignoring her sullen expression, Maggie tried again. ‘Live round here, do you?’

‘What’s it gorrer do wi’ you?’

Taken aback, Maggie frowned. ‘Sorry I’m sure. I was only tryin’ to be friendly.’

‘When I want a friend, I’ll ask. Till then, mind yer own bloody business.’ So saying, the young woman gripped her handbag and hurried away, leaving Maggie open-mouthed to stare after her. ‘Well, really,’ she muttered indignantly. Only that day during their afternoon break, Eileen had commented on the girl sitting all alone in the corner of the canteen and Maggie had assumed that she was shy. Now she was inclined to think that she was just downright ignorant, and yet . . . There was something about the stoop of the girl’s shoulders that told a different story. She couldn’t be more than twenty at most, and yet she looked as if she had the worries of the world on her shoulders. Deciding that it was none of her business, Maggie shrugged and moved on.

 

The following day, as she was fitting a hairnet over her blond hair before starting work, she told Eileen what had happened the previous evening.

‘I’m telling you, she almost bit my head off and I was only trying to get her into conversation,’ she said.

Eileen giggled above the noise of the machines that were whirring into life in the factory. ‘Told yer she looked like a sullen-faced bugger, didn’t I? Happen now you’ll give her a wide berth.’

The words had barely left her mouth when the topic of their conversation walked in. As Eileen and Maggie looked towards her they were shocked to see that one of her eyes was black and blue. Oblivious to the fact that she was being watched, the girl began to push her fair hair under the obligatory hairnet.

‘Yer know, she wouldn’t be bad-lookin’ if she smiled an’ used a bit o’ make-up,’ Eileen remarked. ‘An’ I wonder who gave her that shiner. It’s a beauty, ain’t it?’

Still smarting from the night before, Maggie shrugged. ‘I neither know nor care. I’m certainly not goin’ to ask an’ give her the chance to snap me head off again.’

At that moment, the factory bell sounded, summoning the women to their machines and soon they were hard at work and the girl, for now, was forgotten.

 

‘Aw, Mam. You haven’t cooked the dinner
again
?’ Stooping to sweep Lucy into her arms, Maggie frowned at her mother. ‘I’m more than grateful to you for havin’ the little ’un an’ the twins when they get in from school, without you cooking dinner an’ all. I don’t want you overdoing it an’ knocking yourself up.’

‘Huh! What yer tryin’ to say? That I’m past it?’ Her mother glared at her as Maggie grinned. ‘It’ll be a cold day in hell when I ain’t up to throwin’ a meal together. An’ don’t tell me it ain’t nice to come home to find that dinner’s nearly ready.’

‘Well, of course it is. All I’m saying is, I don’t want you to make yourself bad. You do far more than enough already.’ They were now into May and the warmer weather had made Ellen’s ankles balloon.

‘Rubbish. Now get yer coat off an’ come to the table while I get across home to see to yer dad’s tea.’

Maggie gratefully sank down onto a chair with Lucy still clinging to her.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said, as her mother tugged her pinny straight and headed for the open kitchen door. ‘When I’ve got the kids all settled I’ll pop down to the corner shop an’ treat you an’ Dad to a bottle o’ stout each an’ ten Woodbine. How would that be?’

Ellen Sharp grinned. ‘Hark at the last o’ the big spenders, eh? Must be nice to have a bit o’ spare cash floatin’ about.’

‘It is nice not to have to count every single penny,’ Maggie admitted. ‘Though half me wages goes across the bar of the Crown or the Lord Aylesford if I’m daft enough to leave me purse lying about. Sam can get very touchy about me being a little more independent.’

‘Yes, well, there’s a few men feel like that when their women first go back out to work. They suddenly feel like they ain’t the breadwinner any more an’ it’s a blow to their pride.’ Pausing to plant a kiss on her daughter’s cheek, Ellen hurried away to get her husband’s tea.

Luckily, Sam decided to stay in that night, so as soon as the twins and Lucy were tucked into bed, Maggie snatched up her bag and headed for the door.

‘I’m just nipping out to get a few bits for me mam an’ dad from the corner shop,’ she told him. ‘Is there anything you’d like bringing back?’

Sam, who was listening to the wireless, glanced up. ‘A couple o’ bottles o’ bitter wouldn’t go amiss. Can’t give yer the money though. I’m skint till payday.’

Maggie sighed. ‘Just keep your ear out for the kids, would yer? I shan’t be a jiffy.’

Slipping out into the May evening, she welcomed the cool breeze that met her. She’d just washed up all the dinner pots, done a load of washing and put it through the mangle before hanging it out on the line, then got all the children ready for bed, and the night wasn’t over yet. When she got home she still had the twins’ uniforms to iron ready for the next day and the kitchen to clean.

It would have been pointless to ask Sam for any help. He still firmly believed that housework was a woman’s duty. Still, she reasoned, she had known how he felt before she took her job so she supposed she shouldn’t complain, and he
had
stayed in tonight, which made a change, though she rightly guessed that it was more to do with lack of funds than a need for her company.

She reached the corner shop only to find the shutters down and the
Closed
sign in the window.

‘What’s going on here then?’ she enquired of a neighbour who was hurrying past.

Greta Lewis, who was known to love a good gossip, paused and shook her head sadly. ‘Ain’t yer heard then? They had a telegram boy arrive on his bike earlier today. Their lad’s been killed in action in France. The poor buggers are heartbroken. Mind you, who wouldn’t be? This bloody war is causin’ some heartache, ain’t it? He was their only son. I just wonder if the missus will ever get over it. She worshipped the ground that lad walked on, so she did.’ Shaking her head, she walked away as tears welled in Maggie’s eyes. She’d known Ben Drew since he was in short trousers and could hardly believe that he was dead. He had been so young, with all his life before him. Her thoughts moved on to David. Would
his
mother be getting a telegram next saying that something had happened to
him
? The thought was too terrible to contemplate and she pulled herself together with an effort.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced up and down the street. The nearest shop if this one was closed was some streets away in an area of Swanshill that most people tried to avoid. It was a notorious red-light district. But what choice did she have? She had promised her mother and father a treat, not to mention Sam. Quickly making her mind up, she hurried on. The way she saw it, the sooner she got there the sooner she would be back.

After a brisk ten-minute walk, the shop came into sight. Heavily made-up girls on street corners sneered at her as she hurried past, and she saw more than one talking to men before taking their arms and leading them away. She shuddered, thinking how awful it must be to have to sell your body to make a living. Keeping her head down, she slipped into the shop and in no time at all was back out on the pavement with the things she had come for tucked in a brown paper carrier bag with string handles that cut into her hands.

She quickly retraced her steps but had only walked the length of two streets when a girl standing on the edge of a pavement made her pause. She frowned. There was something about her that was vaguely familiar, and yet for the life of her, Maggie couldn’t think what it was. Slowing her step, she came abreast of the young woman and dared to glance at her. She gasped. This was the girl who had recently started at the factory - the one she had tried unsuccessfully to befriend. The girl, unfortunately, caught sight of Maggie at the same time and colour flooded into her heavily rouged cheeks.

‘So what
you
starin’ at then, Miss Prim an’ Proper!’

Maggie gulped deep in her throat as she took in the bright red lips and the short skirt.

‘I er . . . Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,’ she said hastily. ‘I just didn’t expect to see you round here, that’s all.’

‘Why, what’s wrong wi’ round here? Not good enough fer the likes o’ your sort, ain’t it?’

Maggie was momentarily lost for words. A large dark-haired man who was obviously the worse for wear, was lurching towards them and suddenly the girl was all smiles as she turned to face him.

‘Lookin’ fer a good time, are yer, love?’ When he nodded, she quickly took his arm, before turning to glare at Maggie across her slim shoulder. ‘Why don’t you just piss off back to where yer came from, eh? Go on. Get back to yer cosy little hubby an’ yer cosy little two-up, two-down.’