The Clippie Girls (13 page)

Pausing, Rose said, ‘Do you think she’s all right?’ Though she was anxious to get Peggy home – and to see if their own family was unscathed – nevertheless, she couldn’t just walk past someone who might be in trouble. No more, it seemed, could Terry, for he set Peggy gently on the ground and climbed nimbly up to the woman. As he bent to speak to her, Rose and Peggy saw her give a wry smile and nod. Terry patted her hand and slithered back down the pile of rubble.

‘She’s fine. Just having a moment or two with her ruined possessions before she has to leave.’

As he picked Peggy up again, she said, ‘What are all these poor folks going to do?’

‘They’ll set up rest centres for the homeless,’ Terry said. ‘Now let’s get you home.’

‘I hope they’re all right,’ Rose muttered and quickened her step. As they came to a street very near to their own, they saw that two houses had been completely demolished. Seeing the destruction and the smouldering crater, Rose began to run.

Fifteen

They’d been in the cellar for hours, when Letty suddenly piped up, ‘Let’s ’ave a sing-song. Drown out them buggers overhead, eh? Come on . . .’ and in a raucous, tuneless voice she began to sing ‘
My ol’ man said foller the van . . .
’

Half-heartedly, they joined in, all except Grace, who resolutely clamped her mouth shut. Sidney and Jimmy were sniggering in the corner of the cellar, trying to catch spiders to put into empty matchboxes, no doubt with the intention of making little girls at school squeal with fright. And then the Bradshaw boys would be in trouble yet again.

Letty was still singing about dillying and dallying when there was a whistle and a resounding thump that shook the ground beneath them. Above them there was the sound of breaking glass and a loud crash.

Letty leapt to her feet. ‘The house, it’s falling in on top of us. We’ll be trapped. We’ll be killed . . .’

Tom grasped her arm and pulled her back down. ‘Calm down, Letty love. If it was t’ house falling down, there’d’ve been a darned sight more noise than that.’ He glanced at Grace. ‘Reckon you’ll have a bit of damage up there, though, love.’

‘Ah well,’ Grace said philosophically. ‘As long as no one’s hurt.’

But it was a vain hope.

When at last the All Clear sounded, they were all cramped and cold.

‘Hot tea all round and bed for what’s left of the night,’ Grace said, shining the torch she always brought down into the cellar as she pulled herself up the steps and opened the door into the living room. ‘Oh no!’

‘What is it, Mother?’ Mary asked, close behind her.

‘I can smell something funny.’

‘It’s not gas, is it?’

‘You all right, Mrs Booth?’ Tom shouted from below. ‘Want me to come up?’

‘Just wait here a moment, Mother. I’ll go and see what damage there is.’

The cold December morning was still dark, but as soon as Mary stepped into the room she felt the draught. ‘I think the window’s broken. Just be careful until I can put the light on. Wait there.’ Her feet crunched on broken glass as she crossed the room carefully to the light switch. She flicked the switch a couple of times, but nothing happened.

Grace shone the torch around the room.

‘Oh no!’ Mary gasped. The room was covered in soot. The furniture, the walls – everything was blackened. The window was broken and glass was scattered over the floor, the table and chairs. The clock that usually stood on the mantelpiece was face down on the hearthrug.

Grace moved slowly into the room, glancing round her, her mouth a grim line. ‘If I could get me hands on that ruddy ’Itler . . .’ she muttered.

Myrtle climbed the stairs and stepped into the room.

‘Be careful,’ Mary said. ‘We need to find another torch and light some candles. And I’ll light the lamp. It’s not gas you could smell, Mother, it’s soot.’ An oil lamp stood on the sideboard, always primed and ready should it be needed. Miraculously, it was still upright.

When the lamp was lit, Mary said, ‘I’ll check the front room. Myrtle, you check upstairs, but be careful.’ The girl was standing by the table looking down mournfully at her books. They were all covered with a thin layer of soot.

Mary returned to say, ‘Oh, Mother – I’m so sorry. Your china cabinet’s been knocked over. I – I think nearly everything’s broken.’

Grace stood by the table still glancing round her and shaking her head in disbelief.

‘It’s not too bad upstairs,’ Myrtle reported. ‘There’s soot on the hearthrug in both your rooms, but it’s not all over like down here. Mine and Rose’s room is all right, because there’s no fireplace in there. The only thing that’s broken that I can see is Gran’s mirror. There’s a huge crack right across it.’

‘Seven years’ bad luck, then,’ Grace murmured, still staring round, shocked and bewildered at the wreckage of her home.

Mary put her arm around Grace’s shoulders. ‘Come on, Mother. You go up and get into bed. I’ll bring you some tea up.’

‘What? When there’s this lot to clear up?’

‘You’ve had a shock – you ought to—’

‘Mary, I know you mean well, but if you think I’m going to let that – that lunatic get the better of me, then you don’t know me very well. Come on, the sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll get it all cleared up.’

Grace set to work with an energy that surprised even her family. The only time her face crumpled and her shoulders sagged for a brief moment was when she stood in the front room and viewed the smashed remains of her treasured tea service.

‘My parents gave us that on our wedding day,’ she murmured. ‘They didn’t have very much and it must have taken them months to save up to buy it. I only ever used it the once.’

Mary put her arm around her mother and asked softly, ‘When was that?’

‘Your christening. After that, I was so afraid of a piece getting broken and spoiling the set that I left it safely in the cabinet and, when I could afford it, bought another to use on special occasions.’

‘The willow pattern one?’

Grace nodded. ‘Over the years pieces have been cracked and broken. We’ve only a few bits left now.’ She sighed. ‘So you see, I was right. That’s what would have happened to my best set. But I needn’t have bothered – Hitler’s done it for me.’

Mary hugged her and whispered, ‘They’re just things, Mother. We’re safe. That’s what counts.’ Her face clouded and her voice wobbled a little as she added, ‘Just so long as Peggy and Rose come home safely.’

Grace took a deep breath and gave a weak smile. ‘Yes, you’re right.’

The three of them worked hard for an hour, sweeping and cleaning. And then they heard the rattle of the front door opening.

From the outside their house looked unscathed and, as Terry set her down gently outside their front door, Peggy felt the least she could do was to invite the young soldier in for a cup of tea after all his kindness.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ Terry said, deliberately holding back his eagerness. ‘As long as it’s no trouble.’

Rose was already opening the door and shouting, ‘Mam – Gran? Are you all right?’

‘Mam would never forgive us if we let you go without a proper thank you,’ Peggy said. ‘Come on in. And be prepared,’ she added, with a laugh that was still unsteady. ‘We’re a houseful of women, so don’t say you haven’t been warned.’

‘I won’t.’ Terry grinned back at her as he placed his hand gently under her elbow to guide her across the threshold into the house.

‘Oh my goodness, whatever’s happened?’ Mary came hurrying from the living room when she heard the front door open. She was still fully dressed from the previous day, but dusty from a long night spent in the cellar.

‘Now don’t panic, Mam. She’s all right,’ Rose tried to reassure their mother. ‘Just a little cut on her forehead and she’s a bit shaky. She’ll soon be as right as ninepence.’

‘But how did you get hurt, Peggy? Oh—’ Suddenly, she became aware that her daughters were not alone.

‘Terry helped Peggy get her passengers out of the tram when it was hit—’

‘Hit?’ Mary’s voice was high-pitched with fear. ‘What do you mean – hit? Did another vehicle run into it? Oh my God!’ Her eyes widened in fear as she realized exactly what Rose meant. ‘The bombing. Your tram was caught in the bombing. But didn’t you get to a shelter? Didn’t you—?’

‘Look, come and sit down and we’ll tell you,’ Rose said, taking charge and trying to quieten the panic she could hear in her mother’s voice. ‘I’ll get the kettle on. This nice young soldier could do with a cuppa before he has to face his sergeant. He’s lost his cap in the confusion.’

‘Oh, Rose, we can’t. We’ve had some bomb damage. The place is in a dreadful mess.’

‘Is everyone all right?’ Rose asked, suddenly anxious. ‘Gran? Myrtle?’

‘Yes, yes, we’re fine, but Gran’s upset about the house. There’s soot everywhere and several things have been broken.

‘Can I sit down?’ Peggy said suddenly and put her hand to her head. At once Terry’s arm was around her and he half-led, half-carried her through to the living room and set her down in the armchair on the opposite side of the hearth to where Grace always sat. It still bore traces of soot, even though Grace had brushed it, but that was the least of their worries just now.

‘Hello. What’s going on?’ Grace demanded, struggling to her feet from where she’d been on her knees sweeping the carpet with a dustpan and brush. ‘What’s happened?’

‘That’s what I’d like to know,’ Mary demanded of Rose. ‘Well?’

‘Perhaps I can explain,’ Terry said. He was still standing close to Peggy, watching her with solicitous eyes. ‘The tram I was on, that is, Peggy’s tram, was caught in a bomb blast.’ Mary gasped, turned pale and sank into the nearest chair, not caring now if she was sitting on a layer of soot. Her legs just gave way as she heard how close her daughter had been to serious injury – or worse.

‘Go on, young man,’ Grace said.

‘Not a direct hit, thank God, else I don’t think either of us would be here. Peggy was very brave.’ His eyes softened as he gazed at her. ‘She thought nothing of her own safety nor even of her injury.’

Peggy gave a wry laugh. ‘To be honest, I didn’t know I was injured until you got me off the tram. I was knocked to the floor and I think I must have passed out for a minute or two.’

‘All she thought about was getting all her passengers, those who could move, off the tram.’

‘Was anybody – seriously hurt?’ Mary asked and added in a whisper, ‘or killed?’

‘There are several in hospital—’

‘Bob’s one of them,’ Rose blurted out. ‘He’s in a right daze. Doesn’t seem to know where he is or what happened. It might be concussion, the nurse said. We had to leave – bring Peggy home – but we can go back tonight.’

‘Peggy’s going nowhere tonight,’ Mary said firmly. ‘One of us can go up and see how he is.’ She turned to Rose. ‘Does his mother know?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll go and see her later. I’ll have to walk though. I’ve no idea what transport will be able to operate now – if any.’ Hester Deeton, Bob’s widowed mother, lived just under a mile away in the Walkley district. ‘I hope she went into the Anderson that Bob built in the back yard.’

‘We were in the cellar, but we heard all the noise. And then there was one dropped very close. The whole ground seemed to shake. It must have been that one that did all the damage.’

‘It’s just round the corner from here,’ Rose said. ‘You were lucky it wasn’t any closer or . . .’ She stopped and bit her lip. It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘I never thought one of you might be caught up in it. Whyever weren’t you in the public shelters, like Laurence – Mr Bower – instructed? And what about you, Rose? Where were you? How come you’re with Peggy?’

Rose had the grace to look a little shame-faced. ‘I – er – went to find Peg.’ She omitted to add ‘and Bob’.

Mary gasped. ‘Didn’t you go into the shelter? There’s one under the cinema, isn’t there?’

Rose avoided her mother’s gaze.

‘You didn’t, did you? You went out in the middle of an air raid. Oh, Rose – what am I to do with you? If I’d known . . .’ Mary shuddered and Grace muttered sagely, ‘Good job you didn’t know. I wouldn’t have been able to do a thing with you until you’d known they were both safe.’

Terry looked up, caught the old woman’s eye and winked broadly. ‘Mothers, eh?’

Grace blinked, but instead of fixing him with a steely glare at such sauciness, she actually smiled. She liked a bit of spirit in a young man and he reminded her of her dear husband when she’d first met him: he’d had a similar cheeky grin and a roguish sparkle in his eyes.

‘Well, I’m sorry we can’t offer you tea, young man. We’ve nowhere to boil the kettle at the moment. But, Rose, you might be able to find a piece of cake in a tin in the kitchen cupboard. Go and look.’

When Rose came back into the living room a little while later with a tray of slices of cake set out on plates, proper introductions had been made and Terry was sitting beside Peggy still regaling Grace, Mary and Myrtle with details of the bombing. To Rose’s amusement all three women appeared to be hanging on his every word. But then her smile died. Not one of them – not even Peggy – appeared to be giving a thought to Bob.

Sixteen

With a supreme effort, Rose managed to hide her feelings and her overwhelming desire to rush back to the hospital and demand to sit at Bob’s bedside. She knew she wouldn’t be allowed to do that anyway, but the need to go back there as soon as she could to see him was hard to rein in. Instead she handed round the cake, smiling, laughing, and trying to make her mother and grandmother forget what might have happened to them all. The damage that lay all around them was a constant reminder; a reminder too of what had happened to Bob. What if he was so badly injured she’d never see his wonderful smile again, never be able to enjoy saucy banter with him? Rose couldn’t bear to think that he’d be changed by his injuries. She loved him just the way he was, even though that love must remain her secret. Soon she couldn’t help bringing the conversation back to Bob.

‘Peggy, do you want me to go round to his mother’s? She might like some company.’

‘Oh, Rose, would you? I’m sure Bob’d be so grateful. Thanks.’