The Clippie Girls (24 page)

‘Yes, but he’s in bed. He works nights, y’know. Ever since me mam died. He finds it easier that way.’

‘I’m sorry. When – when did that happen?’

‘Four years ago now, but he still misses her. We both do.’

‘Of course.’

‘What about you? Terry told me you’ve no dad.’

‘No, he died when I was seven.’

‘You remember him then?’

Peggy nodded. ‘I’ve two sisters. Rose was a few days short of her fifth birthday when he died, but Myrtle was only a baby. She has no memories of him at all and Rose only a few.’

‘It must have been hard on your mam. Three kiddies to bring up on her own,’ Billy said, as he filled the kettle and set it on the stove.

‘We’ve always lived with my grandmother – my mother’s mother. It’s her house.’

He set cups and saucers on the table. ‘Sorry, I’ve no biscuits.’ He grinned as he added the favourite saying of the day, ‘There’s a war on, y’know.’

‘Yes,’ she sighed, ‘and Terry’s somewhere in it. That’s why I’ve come to see you, really. Have you heard from him? I’ve no idea where he is and he hasn’t written and he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – give me an address so that I could write to him. Last time he was home he said something about being sent abroad, but he wouldn’t say where or even when.’

Billy stood quite still by the table, moving the cups so that the handles pointed in the same direction. Slowly he looked up and met her gaze. He stared at her for what seemed an age to Peggy. Her heart started to thump. Had something happened to Terry and she hadn’t heard? At last he said, ‘Terry’s not much of a one for letter writing.’

‘That’s what he told me, but I didn’t think he meant he wouldn’t write at all, especially – ’ she bit her lip – ‘when he got sent abroad. Billy, has he gone abroad? Do you know where he is?’

Billy avoided her gaze and shook his head. She wondered if he was telling her the truth. ‘I thought you’d be together – in the same unit or whatever they’re called. Terry said you joined up together.’

Now Billy answered at once. ‘No, they separated us. After what happened to the Sheffield City Battalion in the last war, they don’t like “pals battalions” any more.’

‘Do you know if his parents have heard from him?’

He shrugged. ‘He’ll not write. Like I said, he’s not one for writing letters.’ He seemed about to say more, but then closed his mouth firmly, as if to physically stop the words escaping from his lips.

‘I hope you don’t mind me coming here. I didn’t want to go to his home.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I don’t think I’d be very welcome.’

Billy gave a rueful grin too. ‘Probably not. But they got it all wrong. We was all only mates. It’s as bad as saying I was going out with his sister, Amy, and I wasn’t. Mind you,’ he added, with a laugh, ‘I expect her parents are relieved about that. I’ve got myself a bit of a reputation with the ladies.’ He winked at her.

Peggy smiled too. She liked Billy. He was honest, she could see that already, and she could also see what the girls found attractive in him.

‘But, yeah, you come round here any time you want.’ He laughed and held up his hands, palms outwards. ‘And I promise not to try it on. I wouldn’t do anything like that with my best mate’s girl. Mind you, I’m likely to be posted any time soon, so I may not be around for a few months.’

They drank the tea he’d made and talked a little longer before Peggy said she must go. He saw her to the door and said again, ‘Come round any time.’

As she walked back up the street, she risked a glance at Terry’s home. There was no sign of anyone, but as she turned away again, Peggy fancied she saw someone at the bedroom window of the house next door: a girl’s face peering from behind the curtain.

Was that Sylvia? she wondered. The girl whose heart Terry was supposed to have broken because of her? Peggy turned her head away and hurried on.

Twenty-Nine

Two more weeks passed and the whole month of October was surprisingly warm and sunny. Bob wrote regularly but not a word came from Terry. Peggy became resigned to the fact that he’d meant what he’d said: he was no letter writer. And then the household was thrown into turmoil when, one Wednesday at the end of October, no letter arrived for Rose.

‘Something must have happened to him,’ she wailed. ‘He never misses.’

‘Darling, do calm down.’ Mary tried to comfort her. ‘It could have been delayed in the post or he could have been kept too busy to write.’

‘Bob would
make
time,’ Rose insisted tearfully.

Grace retreated behind her newspaper, muttering.

‘How d’you think I feel, then, when I never hear from Terry?’ Peggy said, but was rewarded with an angry glare from her sister.

‘Maybe Bob’s met a pretty girl and forgotten all about you,’ Myrtle offered, biting into a piece of toast, spread thickly with butter.

‘Mam, have you seen her?’ Rose snapped, her anxiety making her irritable. ‘That’s nearly a week’s ration of butter gone on one piece of toast. Can’t you stop her being so greedy? She’s the only one not bringing money into this house and she gets all the treats and extras.’

Myrtle stopped chewing. Then she shrugged. ‘Then I’ll leave school and get a job. I’m sure I could keep up the family tradition and become a clippie.’

‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Mary said and Peggy added, ‘We all want you to stay on at school. You’re the clever one, Myrtle. We’re all so proud of you. Take no notice of Rose. She’s just bad-tempered because there’s no letter for her.’

‘I’ll make my own excuses, thank you very much.’

‘Girls, girls, please! Stop this bickering. Myrtle, none of us want you to leave school, but you should be careful with the rations and only have your fair share.’

‘Sorry, Mam.’ Myrtle hung her head, hiding a smile. The girl knew exactly what she wanted to do now. Other girls at school were leaving as soon as they were old enough and going into some sort of war work. Their conversations were littered with their plans.

‘My sister’s joined the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. She looks so smart in her uniform.’

‘Mine’s gone into the Land Army. The work’s hard, but she’s having a great time in the country.’

So Myrtle had been thinking. She was in the Upper Sixth now and would stay on at school until she’d taken her Higher School Certificate the following summer. She’d be eighteen by then and if the war was still going on, she’d join one of the forces. She was sure that, after the war was won, there’d be every chance for her to go to university then. Myrtle had complete faith that Britain and her allies would win the war; the only question was, how long would it take? But she told her family none of this; they wouldn’t approve. And now, she was thankful that her mother’s attention had turned away from her to Peggy.

‘You look a little peaky this morning, love. Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine, Mam, just a little tired.’

Mary said no more. She knew the girl was fretting because she’d had no news of Terry. She didn’t talk about it much because it was a sensitive subject, especially when Rose was in earshot.

The two sisters walked to work together, but said little to one another on the way. As they neared the depot, Rose murmured, ‘I’ll ask one or two of Bob’s mates if they’ve heard anything.’

‘Mm.’

Rose glanced at her sister. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You look awfully pale.’

‘My tummy’s a bit unsettled this morning. Must be something I ate.’

Rose laughed. ‘I shouldn’t wonder. Goodness knows what they put in some of this tinned stuff we’re getting now. Bye for now. I’ll see you later.’

Peggy went towards the tram she was on that morning, but when she reached it and climbed up on to the platform, she felt a wave of sickness wash over her. She clung to the handrail and took deep breaths until the feeling subsided a little.

‘’Morning, Peg,’ a cheerful voice hailed her. It was her motorman, William, who always insisted on the full use of his own name but always seemed to shorten the names of others, or give them nicknames. ‘Ready for the off?’

‘I – think so.’

‘Hey, you OK? You look as white as a sheet.’

‘I feel a bit queasy. I think it must be something I ate.’

‘D’you want to go home sick, because you’d better do it now rather when we’re half way round the route.’

‘No – no, I’ll be fine. It’s going off now. We’d better be on our way or else we’ll have Mr Bower after us.’

The day passed without further incident. She ate her mid-morning snack and felt much better, but the following morning she felt light-headed and nauseous when she got out of bed and had to reach for the chamber pot.

‘Just a piece of dry toast, Mam,’ she said when at last she arrived at the breakfast table looking tired and white-faced.

‘You’re working too hard,’ Mary said. ‘The early morning shift when we’re all rushing to work is the very devil. Why don’t you ask Mr Bower for a couple of days off and have a really good rest?’

‘That won’t bring her a letter, will it?’ Myrtle put in. ‘That’s what’s upsetting her. She’s afraid he’s got killed and that’s why—’

‘Myrtle,’ Mary snapped. ‘That’s enough.’

If it was possible, Peggy turned even paler. ‘No, Mam, I’ll be all right. I was fine yesterday once I got to work.’ Her smile was a little wobbly as she added, ‘Takes my mind off things. And don’t be cross with Myrtle because she’s right. I am worried something might have happened to Terry.’

Mary was on the late shift that day and once the girls had all left the house for work and school, she began to clear the dirty pots into the scullery to wash.

Grace shook her paper with an angry rattle. ‘Mary – that girl’s pregnant.’

Mary almost dropped the teapot she was carrying. She turned to stare at her mother. ‘Oh no, Mother, she can’t be. I mean – Peggy wouldn’t—’ She stopped and bit down hard on her trembling lip.

‘Oh yes, she would,’ Grace muttered sourly. ‘She was out very late at night with that lad. Up to no good, I’ll be bound.’ She lowered her paper and stared straight at her daughter. ‘But I’ll tell you something now, Mary. If she is pregnant, out she goes. I’ll not have such shame brought to my house.’

That evening, when Peggy came home from work and went upstairs to the bedroom she shared with her mother, Mary followed her. She closed the door quietly and sat down on her own bed, waiting until Peggy had splashed her face in the porcelain bowl on the wash-stand and hung her uniform up on a hanger behind the door. As she pulled on a jumper and stepped into a skirt, Mary asked gently, ‘How’ve you been today, love?’

‘Fine – once I got to work. Like I said, must be something I ate.’

Mary ran her tongue round her lips that were suddenly dry. ‘How – how long have you been feeling sick in the morning?’

Peggy paused in fastening her skirt and stared at her mother. Confusion, fear and the beginnings of shame flooded into her eyes. She sank down onto the bed opposite Mary and twisted her fingers together. ‘About – about a week.’

‘And when did you last have your monthly visitor?’

Peggy jumped up and tore the calendar from the wall, turning back the page. ‘Oh no!’ she breathed in an agonized whisper. She raised terrified eyes to meet Mary’s worried gaze. ‘I’ve missed one completely.’

‘And was the last one you had
before
Terry went back?’

Peggy bit her lip and nodded.

‘And you’ve not had one since?’

Peggy shook her head.

‘And did you – sleep with him?’

Peggy closed her eyes and groaned. She covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh, Mam, I couldn’t help it. I love him so. And he was going away and might never come back, but I never thought . . .’

‘No,’ Mary said flatly, ‘when you’re young and in love, you never do stop to think.’

Peggy raised tear-filled eyes. ‘How – how are we going to tell Gran? Whatever will she say?’

‘She knows, or rather she’s guessed. And – I’m sorry to say it – but she says she’ll turn you out.’

‘Turn me out?’ Peggy was shocked. She knew her grandmother was strict and never missed an opportunity to remind them just whose house it was that they were all living in, but she’d never thought Grace would be so harsh.

‘She wouldn’t, would she? She wouldn’t really turn me out? Where would I go?’

Mary touched her daughter’s hand. ‘If she does that, we’ll all go. Somehow we could manage between us.’

‘But that wouldn’t be fair on Gran. I couldn’t let you do that, not when she’s getting older and will need help. No, I’ll – I’ll have to go.’

‘I’ll talk to her. And Rose and Myrtle will stand by you.’

But Mary was wrong. When they all sat together later that evening and Peggy admitted that she believed she was pregnant, Rose was vicious in her condemnation. Even Grace had not been so vitriolic.

‘You dirty little slut! How could you bring shame on us all like that and with someone you hardly know? My God, no wonder you haven’t heard from him. He’s just been using you as a bit on the side – a bit of fun – before he went to war. And now he’s deserted you.’

Peggy hung her head and let the tears flow. She had no argument against Rose’s accusations. Myrtle said nothing. She was watching their grandmother for her reaction. When the old lady continued to sit quietly in her chair near the fire, taking no part in the arguments raging around the room, Myrtle asked quietly, ‘What are you going to do, Gran?’

There was silence, whilst all eyes turned towards Grace. Even Peggy lifted her tear-streaked face.

‘I told your mother that if you were pregnant – and it looks very much as if you are – I’d turn you out.’

Peggy gave a sob, jumped up and fled from the room. There was silence after she’d gone until, yet again, Myrtle was the one to ask, ‘And did you mean it, Gran?’

‘Of course she means it,’ Rose snapped. ‘And if she doesn’t, then
I’ll
throw her out.’

‘It’s not your place, Rose,’ Grace said quietly, but firmly. ‘If there’s any throwing out to be done, then I shall do it.’

Rose pursed her lips as if to stop herself saying any more.

Grace rose unsteadily to her feet. ‘I’m going to bed. All this has made me feel very old and very tired. I’m disappointed in Peggy. I’d thought better of her.’ She glanced at Rose.