The Clippie Girls (39 page)

Celia Cartwright was an excellent head for the city school, strict but fair. Tall, thin and straight-backed with her grey hair pulled tightly back into a bun, she was an imposing figure as she walked the corridors. When the green light at the side of the door bade her enter, Myrtle opened it and went in, closing the door quietly behind her. Seated behind her large desk, Celia smiled at her. Myrtle Sylvester was one of her favourite pupils, though she would never have dreamed of showing it. The girl was clever and studious and the headmistress had high hopes that she would bring credit to the school.

Myrtle raised her chin and Celia recognized the determination in her face and demeanour.

‘Miss Cartwright, I’m sorry if what I have to tell you is going to disappoint you, especially after you’ve helped me so much, but I’ve decided not to take up my place at Sheffield University.’

Celia gazed at her for a few moments before saying quietly, ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Is it – is it family troubles?’ Celia had heard about the birth of an illegitimate baby into the household and wondered . . .

‘No, not at all.’ Myrtle crossed her fingers behind her back as she said confidently, ‘My family will support me in whatever I decide to do.’

‘I see. And have you decided what that is?’

‘Yes. I’ve decided I want to be a nurse.’

Whatever the headmistress had been expecting it certainly hadn’t been this. ‘A – a nurse,’ she repeated.

‘Yes, Miss Cartwright. In fact, I want to train to be a midwife and possibly a paediatric nurse too.’

The girl had obviously done her homework on the subject already. Celia blinked.

‘I – see,’ Celia said again, feeling the kudos that a girl from her school going to one of the top universities would have brought slipping away from her. She sighed inwardly. She prided herself that she always had the best interests of each of her pupils at heart. ‘If you’re really sure that that’s what you want, Myrtle, then I will do everything in my power to help you, but I can’t help feeling you’d be wasting a golden opportunity. A university education isn’t open to everyone, you know.’

‘I know and I appreciate your encouragement and the support my family have given me, but to be honest I was never really sure that that was what I wanted. You see, I’ve never known what I wanted to do as a career afterwards.’

‘But a degree would open so many doors to you, my dear. You could almost do anything you wished.’

‘But what I want to do is become a midwife.’

Again Celia sighed, but capitulated. There was a light in the girl’s eyes that she’d never seen before and a look of determination on her face. She could see that it was the same determination that she herself had had when she’d known – yes, known – that she wanted to become a teacher. She’d faced a lot of opposition from her father, who’d wanted her to follow in his footsteps and become a doctor. Now Celia knew that she must not repeat her father’s error by trying to persuade the girl standing in front of her to do anything other than what she wanted.

She smiled at Myrtle. ‘Very well. I’ll make enquiries. Luckily you’ve already studied human biology and your exam result was excellent. I think that’s one of the subjects you might need. I’ll let you know what I find out, Myrtle.’

As she left the office, Myrtle breathed a sigh of relief. The interview hadn’t been as difficult as she’d imagined. She’d fully expected the headmistress to be angry with her for forgoing the chance of going to university.

Celia Cartwright sat at her desk deep in thought. She was remembering her own struggle, but never for one moment had she regretted her decision. And Myrtle Sylvester would succeed at whatever she decided to do. In her mind’s eye, Celia could visualize a much older Myrtle, walking the corridors of the city hospital dressed in a matron’s uniform. And slowly the headmistress smiled.

Forty-Eight

The family settled back into a routine, but it was not the same as it had been before Freddie’s disappearance. Peggy stayed at home to care for him and to help Grace with the housework. Now she had more determination and no longer shrank from going out with Freddie in the pram. To her surprise and delight her neighbours greeted her with friendliness and kindness. Only one or two turned their faces away with a disapproving look or crossed the street to avoid her, but Peggy held her head high and walked on proudly.

Myrtle had a new-found purpose. She now knew what she wanted to do with her life and, as far as she was concerned, all that romantic nonsense could wait. It was bad enough seeing Rose moon about the place without wanting to get involved with boyfriends herself, as some of her contemporaries were already doing. No, Myrtle had her life mapped out and nothing and no one would divert her from her chosen course. Within days she was granted an interview with the matron of the Royal Infirmary. She was accepted as a probationer nurse to start in the New Year.

‘She’ll end up marrying a doctor,’ Grace prophesied sagely and then glanced at her daughter, ‘and you, my girl, could end up married to the inspector at the tram depot, if you’re not careful.’

Mary blushed and murmured, ‘Oh, Mam, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

In the weeks following Freddie’s safe return, Laurence Bower had become a frequent visitor, always making the excuse of wanting to know how the little chap did. But it wasn’t long before he tentatively invited Mary out for an evening. And there was a new light in Mary’s eye and a spring in her step. She was even to be heard humming softly to herself despite the hardships the war was still bringing.

At the very end of October 1942 Grace was jubilant to read of Montgomery’s triumph at El Alamein, but her delight was short-lived.

‘I haven’t seen Letty for a couple of days,’ Mary said, as they sat down to tea. ‘Has she been round, Mother?’

Grace paused and looked up, meeting Mary’s questioning gaze. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘I think you’d better go and see them when you’ve had your tea. Because the last thing she told me was that her son who’s in the army—’ She hesitated and Mary said, ‘Walter.’

‘That’s right. Well, he’d written home to say that now Monty was in charge they’d soon have Rommel on the run. I just wondered – seeing as there’s obviously been a big battle . . .’ Her voice faded away.

‘I’ll go round,’ Mary said and, after they’d finished eating and Myrtle and Rose had offered to do the washing up, she left to go next door.

It was some time before her knock at the Bradshaws’ back door was answered. An unusually solemn-faced Sidney opened it.

‘Oh, Sidney,’ Mary breathed. ‘Have you had bad news?’

He nodded as he opened the door wider. ‘Come in, Mrs Sylvester,’ he said politely. Mary shuddered. It was so unlike the merry-faced little rascal. As she stepped into the Bradshaws’ living room, she saw Letty sitting in a chair by the fire with Tom opposite her. Their faces were grey with sorrow and Letty’s eyes were red and swollen. Mary sat beside her and took her hand. ‘Letty?’ But it was Tom, his voice husky with emotion, who answered.

‘It’s our Walter, Mary. He’s been killed at El Alamein.’

‘I’m so dreadfully sorry. Is there anything I can do?’

Tom shook his head. ‘Nowt, lass, but thanks for the offer. Sadly we’re not alone in our loss.’

‘I know,’ Mary said gently, ‘but that doesn’t make it any easier.’

Mary stayed a while longer, trying to comfort the grieving parents, but there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do to ease their loss.

‘I just hope nothing happens to the other two,’ she added, when she relayed the awful news to her family. ‘It’s bad enough having just one member of your family in danger, but all three eldest boys – it’s unbearable. She must be terrified now that something will happen to Bertie or Simon.’

‘Mr Bower’s got both his sons in the forces,’ Grace pointed out. ‘Have you asked him how they are?’

‘Not lately, but I will,’ Mary promised.

The next day, when she met Laurence in the canteen, Mary told him of the tragedy the Bradshaws were suffering. Laurence was quiet for a long time, gazing down into his cup of tea and not touching the slice of cake Mary had carried over to their table.

‘Laurence?’ Mary prompted gently.

‘It’s Matthew. His ship was torpedoed. I – I got a telegram this morning saying he’s missing.’

‘Oh, Laurence.’ Mary reached out and grasped his hand across the table, not caring who saw them. ‘I am so, so sorry.’ She paused, then added gently, ‘Shouldn’t you be at home?’

Laurence shook his head firmly. ‘No, I’m better at work. Keep busy, that’s my motto.’ He gripped her hand tightly. ‘But just – just knowing you’re there . . .’

When Mary told them that evening, her family was saddened by the news.

‘Poor man,’ Grace murmured. ‘And Letty’s in a dreadful state. I went round this morning, but there’s nothing anyone can do.’ They were all silent, thinking for once how lucky they were that they’d lost no one from their own family circle. And yet, for Peggy, there was someone missing, though she didn’t know the reason why. Had he deserted her or had he been killed? The fear haunted her sleep. And now there was an additional sadness. If he was dead, Terry would never know he had a son.

‘Promise me, Rose,’ Mary was saying, ‘if there are more air raids, that you’ll go to a shelter straight away. No more heroics running through the streets.’

‘I promise – as long as you’ll do the same.’

Mary nodded and turned her attention to the rest of her family. ‘And the same goes for the rest of you. Down the cellar immediately. No more thinking it might be a false alarm.’

Early in December Rose said, ‘Right, Myrtle, are you up for it?’

Myrtle blinked and stared at her. ‘Up for what?’

Rose lowered her voice. ‘To have another go at finding Terry Price?’

Myrtle shrugged. ‘I don’t think it’ll do any good but, yeah, I’ll come along.’

‘Right then. We’ll go this afternoon. Sunday afternoon should find most folks at home.’

‘We’re not going back to his house, are we?’

‘No. I’m going to try and find this Billy that one of those girls mentioned.’

Myrtle grinned. ‘I don’t reckon she meant his name to slip out. The other girl dug her in the ribs the minute she’d said it. Did you see?’

Rose grinned. ‘All the more reason why we should look him up.’

‘He might be away in the forces.’

‘True. But if Billy’s parents are at home, they should have an idea where their son is and, if the two lads are good mates, they could know where Terry is an’ all.’

They set off after dinner. ‘Let’s walk,’ Rose said, ‘I’m sick of riding on trams and you could do with the fresh air. Always with your nose in a book. I suppose it’s nursing you’re studying now, is it? You’ll get round-shouldered if you don’t watch out.’

But Myrtle only smiled.

It was a long way to the part of the city where Terry lived, but the two sisters chatted as they walked.

‘So you and Bob are courting now, are you?’

‘Looks like it,’ Rose said happily.

‘You don’t mind having your sister’s cast-off, then?’ Myrtle said slyly. For a moment Rose almost snapped back at the younger girl’s barb, but then, ruefully, she realized the words were true. Seriously she said, ‘I’ve loved him for so long, Myrtle, even when he was going out with Peggy – or rather we thought he was going out with her. Of course, I kept quiet about it then, but, no, I don’t really mind that much.’ She laughed wryly. ‘I’ve no pride when it comes to Bob Deeton, I’m afraid.’

‘Does he still love her?’

‘By ’eck, you don’t mince your words, do you?’ She was thoughtful for a moment before she said carefully, ‘He did love her once, but I don’t think he does now. I think what she did killed it.’

‘Running off with another man and having his bairn, you mean? But he offered to marry her.’

‘I know and he regrets that now.’

Myrtle snorted. ‘Good job she didn’t say “yes” then, wasn’t it, for everybody’s sake.’

Soberly, Rose said, ‘Yes, it was.’

As they came to the end of the street where Terry and his family and his mate, Billy, lived, they paused.

Myrtle’s final words on the subject were, ‘Well, if you get yourself pregnant, just remember I could do with the practice.’

‘Ta, very much, I’m sure,’ Rose murmured, but her mind was now on how they could find Billy.

The street was deserted. Not a soul was out for a stroll and, of course, on a Sunday, there were no women cleaning their front-door steps.

‘What do we do?’ Myrtle asked. ‘Knock on doors?’

‘It looks like we’ll have to. Come on.’ She marched towards the house on the corner and rapped smartly on the door. No one answered, so she tried at the house next door. A small child opened the door and peered up at her with wide eyes.

‘Hello, love. Is your mam or dad in?’

The child didn’t answer, but merely stuck her thumb in her mouth and continued to stare at them.

‘All right, love, we’ll try next door.’

‘I reckon we’re on the proverbial wild goose chase,’ Myrtle muttered as they knocked at the third house.

This time a tousled-haired girl of about fifteen opened the door, blinking at them as if she’d just got out of bed and the bright light was hurting her eyes. Maybe she had just got up, Rose thought.

‘Sorry to bother you, but do you know where a lad called Billy lives?’

The girl yawned and stretched and Rose noticed now that she was still wearing her nightdress. ‘Billy Parkin? Yeah, two doors down on this side. Number forty-six. He’s not there, though. He’s in the army.’

‘Do his parents live there?’

‘Just his dad. His mam died before the war started.’

‘Will Mr Parkin be at home, d’you think?’

The girl shrugged. ‘Probably, but he won’t like having his Sunday afternoon nap disturbed. You’d do better to come back in about an hour. The fellers all like their Sunday naps.’ She smiled and jerked her head backwards, indicating the interior of her own home. ‘My dad’s snoring his head off in the front room.’

As the girl closed the door, Myrtle said, ‘What shall we do for an hour?’

‘Go back to that church we passed. We can sit down. There’ll be no one there now.’