The Docklands Girls (12 page)

Belle was sitting reading the paper when Cora returned. She looked up at her friend expectantly.

‘When do you start?’ she asked.

‘You were so certain I’d get the job, weren’t you?’

‘Don’t tell me I’m wrong.’

Cora sat down opposite her. ‘No. You were right; I start in three weeks’ time.’

‘Three weeks, why so long?’

‘It’ll give me time to settle in my bedsit.’

‘Your bedsit? So you’ve managed to find somewhere already. That’s lucky … or did Joe Keating find it for you?’

Belle was making her feel uncomfortable and Cora was annoyed because her friend was making her feel guilty when she had nothing to feel guilty about.

‘Yes, he did and before you say anything else, I made sure there were no strings attached because I asked him!’

Belle grinned broadly at her. ‘Good for you.’ The tension between them faded.

‘Well, I did listen to you, Belle. He thought the whole idea amusing and assured me there was no agenda, so you
see, you were wrong. He said he just wanted to help me fulfil my dream.’ She hesitated before continuing. ‘I’ve decided to move up there in a day or two. It will give me time to settle in and get used to my surroundings.’ Looking at Belle, she was suddenly overcome with emotion.

‘I’m going to miss you, Belle. We’ve been through so much together.’

Belle looked at her with affection. ‘Now listen to me, love, I’ll miss you too, but Mr Keating is right, this is your dream. Your start to a new life and I want you to do it, honestly. I know what you’ve been through and you deserve a fresh start.’

‘You could always come and stay,’ Cora said, ‘but I’ll have to get a mattress for you to sleep on.’

‘Let’s not rush it, Cora. Get settled first. I can always come up for the day on a Sunday, after all.’

‘There is one thing that worries me,’ said Cora, ‘what about
this
flat? As we shared the cost of it.’

‘Don’t give it another thought. I can afford the rent on my wages and overtime, plus I like living here. I may move to the Isle of Wight when the factory closes. Property prices are low with the war. You know, people moving who have lost husbands and such. I might pick up a bargain. Maybe I’ll open a B & B.’

With a sense of relief, Cora chuckled. ‘I can just see you doing that. You’re a good cook and you like people.’

Getting up from her chair, Belle took out a half bottle of gin and poured them a drink each. ‘Come on, Cora, love, this calls for a celebration. Southampton won’t be the same without us!’

Whilst Cora and Belle were making decisions about their future, Hildy was doing the same. Milt had been given special permission to marry her before he was repatriated and to that end, they’d got a special licence and the marriage was to take place in a couple of days’ time.

The preparation was manic. Her friends at the factory were preparing food to be served at a reception in a small hall hired for the afternoon. A couple of Milt’s friends were going too. One as best man and together the two men would play at the reception. One on the piano, the other with his guitar.

Hildy’s friends gathered in her flat with various items of clothing to make sure she would look like a bride. It was a hilarious evening with clothes being tried on and a variety of hats, and a few drinks to help them decide.

Milt had a twenty-four hour pass, then he had to return to the camp, ready to sail for the States, but as he said to her, ‘At least I’ll be leaving knowing my wife will be following eventually with the other GI brides.’

Cora had delayed moving to her bedsit for a couple of days as she and Belle had been invited to the nuptials. They enjoyed getting ready in their finery as all women do.

The sun shone, the bride looked wonderful, the groom proud, but nervous. It was a happy occasion and as the couple exchanged their vows, some of the small congregation had tears in their eyes, thrilled to see them standing together, knowing that so many didn’t return from the war.

After the ceremony, confetti fluttered down, photographs were taken and they all walked to the hall together, laughing and chattering.

It was an informal affair, the gathering being small with their closest friends but Milt did give a speech.

‘Today, I’m the luckiest guy alive! When I was posted to England, never did I imagine I would be returning to the States a married man. Hildy has made me the happiest guy on the planet and I can’t wait to take her home. Thank you all for coming. I would now like us all to drink to my beautiful bride: to Hildy!’

Everyone stood, held up their glasses and in unison said, ‘To Hildy!’

The bride was overcome with embarrassment, but at the same time she was delighted.

People gathered at the table to fill their plates with sandwiches and sausage rolls. There was a one-tier wedding cake, courtesy of the cook in the camp at Tidworth and later the two musicians sat and played.

Milt and his bride took to the floor as the music of ‘The Anniversary Waltz’ was played with everybody cheering.

Holding her close, Milt looked down at his bride. ‘Hello Mrs Miller.’

She beamed at him. ‘Hello husband. You know Milt, I think I’m living a dream and I’m scared to wake up and find it’s not true.’

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her slowly and longingly. ‘Believe me, honey, this is no dream, this is reality. It’s what kept me going all the time I was in France. We are going to have such a good life together and when we grow old, we’ll be sitting on our porch in the evening, remembering today and wondering, where did all those years go?’

‘That sounds good to me,’ she said and kissed him back.

Milt took a moment to speak with Belle when he told her how Jackson had saved his life. ‘Without him, I wouldn’t be here today. I owe him everything.’

It made Belle’s day. ‘Don’t you worry about leaving Hildy,’ she told him, ‘we’ll keep tabs on her for you.’

The following evening in the local paper, Olive Dickson nearly choked on her cup of tea as she saw a picture of a bride and groom with the headline:

LOCAL GIRL MARRIES HER GI

There was her daughter, Hildy, smiling at the camera, holding onto the arm of … that GI! The woman was incandescent with rage. How dare she get married without inviting her mother to the wedding! She looked again at the picture, but it only incited her anger even more. What would the neighbours think when they saw the picture? How was she to explain her absence? How could Hildy have done such a thing?

The following morning at her place of work, Olive faced question after question by her customers who had seen the photograph.

‘Your Hildy looked lovely,’ said one. ‘Was it a good wedding?’

‘Yes, lovely,’ she replied and hurried off to serve another customer.

She managed to bluff her way through the morning until one of her neighbours walked in. There was no love lost between the two women. Her neighbour, knowing how
she’d treated Hildy and had been a witness to Olive’s angry tirade the day Hildy moved out, had been thrilled to see that the young woman had found happiness and would be free at last from her mother’s controlling ways.

She waited until she’d been served and had put the vegetables in her basket, then as Olive handed her some change she casually said, ‘Pity you weren’t invited to your daughter’s wedding, always a proud moment for any mother I always thought.’

The other customers looked up and listened with interest. Olive paled and pursed her lips. She glared at the woman.

‘I thought she was making a mistake and said so.’

‘Like you have done with any young man Hildy has ever taken home as I recall!’ She gave a look of triumph as she said, ‘But this time you lost. Well, I’m delighted for the girl, she deserves some happiness after the way you’ve treated her for years. Good luck to her I say.’ She turned and walked out.

Olive saw the expressions on the faces of the waiting customers as they stared at her. There was such an air of hostility in the small shop that she couldn’t face them. She turned and walked out to the back, took off her apron and left.

Hearing a lot of noise, the owner walked into his shop from the storeroom and was greeted by several angry women all talking at once.

‘Ladies, ladies, a little decorum, please,’ he shouted and there was silence. ‘Now that’s better. Who was first?’

Whilst her employer was doing her job, Olive walked home, fuming. Trust that old hag from next door to
interfere. How dare she make her look such a fool! How dare her daughter treat her this way, leaving her open to criticism.

Her mood wasn’t improved the next morning when she arrived at work to discover she’d been fired.

Her boss was furious. ‘You walked out yesterday without a word,’ he complained. ‘I heard a lot of noise in the shop only to find several very angry women, waiting to be served and no one behind the counter. Well, Mrs Dickson, that’s not good enough. Here’s your money and cards.’

As she made her way home, Olive wondered what she was supposed to do now. She had rent to pay and now she didn’t have a lodger or a job. She’d have to find both – and quickly.

Belle was feeling lonely. After Hildy’s wedding, Cora had packed her things and taken off to her new life in London. There had been an emotional parting between the women, Belle promising to visit one Sunday once Cora had settled, but as she watched her friend drive off to the station in a taxi, she felt bereft.

For years, she’d been surrounded by friends: fellow prostitutes when she was working the streets; Cora, who had become her closest friend. She had workmates in the factory, but they were just working associates. Now she had no one she was close to and she was unsettled. Even more so when there were rumours that the factory would soon be closing down and she came to the conclusion it was time for her to move on too.

To this end, she took a couple of days off, packed a small case and bought a return ticket for the ferry to the Isle of Wight. She planned to book into a B&B and look around at the price of property on the island to get some idea of what she had to face if she decided to move there as planned. She decided to start in Cowes, a good centre for tourists.

It was a balmy, sunny day and, once on board, she found a seat on deck and settled down for the journey. Halfway there, she walked down to the bar to order a sandwich and a gin and tonic. This really wasn’t a bad way to spend her time, she thought, as she sipped her drink.

When she arrived at her destination, she wandered around the small streets of the town, thinking how very picturesque it was. She looked in the windows of several estate agents and was pleased to see there were many properties for sale, but as yet none that caught her eye. The prices varied, of course, and this was a popular centre for the yachting crowd who, no doubt now that the war was over, would soon be back sailing. There were those that could afford such luxuries, of course, and there were always moneyed people in the world.

She saw a notice for B&B at the end of the town and booked in for two nights. Then after having some lunch, she caught a bus to Shanklin and soon fell in love with the place.

Shanklin, with its narrow streets and thatched cottages, was everyone’s idea of a perfect English village and Belle knew instinctively, that this was where she wanted to settle. She sought out the nearest estate agents and walked in.

The young man greeted her and asked her to take a seat at his desk. ‘What can I do for you, miss?’

‘I’m looking for a property to turn into a bed and breakfast,’ she told him. ‘Nothing too big. I’m looking for something with two or three bedrooms I could let.’

He showed her several on his books, but none of them appealed to her.

‘Just a moment,’ he said and went to pick up some
papers from a filing cabinet. ‘This house came in recently and we’ve only just put the file together.’

Belle looked at the double-fronted Victorian house and loved it, but she was sure the price would be beyond her.

‘Why is this on the market?’ she asked.

‘It’s a sad story,’ said the young man. ‘A family owned it, but the elderly couple died, then the son who lived there was killed in the war and his widow doesn’t want to stay there anymore. Too many painful memories, you know. She wants a quick sale.’

Belle’s heart began to beat wildly. Taking a deep breath, she asked, ‘Any chance of looking at it now?’ To her joy, he said yes.

As soon as she walked in the front door, Belle thought she’d come home. There was a feeling of tranquillity about the place. It was double-fronted with lovely old tiles on the hall floor, a sitting room to the right, a dining room to the left and behind a kitchen, utility room and outside toilet. Upstairs were three large bedrooms and a smaller room, which would take a single bed or a small double. There was a wardrobe and across the hall, a family-sized bathroom. On the landing was a good sized airing cupboard.

Apart from needing a lick of paint, it wasn’t in bad shape.

‘What are they going to do about the furniture?’ she asked.

‘Well, I know the lady is hoping to sell it with the house, otherwise it’ll go to a sale room. Perhaps you’d like to see the garden?’ he suggested.

They walked outside. The garden wasn’t too big, Belle thought. It had a lawn, a few flower beds and a garage.

‘Perhaps you’d like to look round on your own and get a feel of the place. I’ll sit in the garden and wait, if you like?’

‘Thank you,’ Belle said, ‘that’ll be great.’

As she slowly wandered into each room, she pictured how it would look after she’d painted it. The furniture was alright for now and when she’d made some money she could replace it piece by piece. But would the price be too much?

They walked back to the office and she asked the question holding her breath, as she waited for the answer.

The young man looked at his papers. ‘The lady is asking three hundred and fifty pounds,’ he said.

‘Right,’ said Belle. ‘Tell her I’ll buy it lock, stock and barrel for three hundred . . . cash!’

He looked surprised. ‘Well, Miss . . . ?’

‘Newman, Belle Newman. I’m staying at this address in Cowes.’ She gave him a card the owner of the B & B had given her. ‘Call me when you’ve spoken to her and if she’s agreeable and can give me a quick sale, she can have the money as soon as we exchange the deeds.’ She rose from her seat. ‘If you can find out by this evening, all the better. I’ll be there after seven o’clock.’

The young man grinned at her. ‘All I can say, Miss Newman, is I wish all my clients were as quick to make up their minds as you are. My life would be so simple.’

Belle laughed. ‘Let’s hope the outcome is successful for both our sakes.’

As she walked to the bus stop, she prayed that everything would work out. She wanted that house so much, she could hardly breathe. When she returned to her B & B, she told the landlady she was expecting a call and would be in her room.

To fill in the time, she tried to keep busy to give herself something to think about, but she was on edge and when she heard the telephone ring, she opened the door and waited.

‘Miss Newman,’ the landlady called.

Belle was down the stairs almost before she’d finished. Her hands shook as she took the receiver. ‘Belle Newman speaking,’ she said.

‘Ah, Miss Newman, I’ve been in touch with the lady who owns the house, well, her mother actually. The owner is away and doesn’t return until tomorrow, so I’ve left a message.’

Belle felt suddenly deflated. ‘I see, thank you. Have you any idea what time she’s due back?’

‘Late morning and I’ve asked that she call me as soon as she walks in the door,’ He chuckled softly. ‘I know how much you want that house.’

‘Thank you so much. I’ll get a bus to your office, just in case and if the answer is no, I’ll have to look around for something else.’

‘Let’s hope that won’t be necessary,’ he said.

Whilst Belle was trying to buy her dream house, Cora had moved into her new abode and was settling in, getting to know her surroundings. She was enjoying being alone in her own place, one that no longer was used for anything but her own comfort. She inspected the surrounding small shops and found the market. She loved to hear the banter among the stallholders and soon realised she was thrilled with her new life change.

She missed her friend Belle, of course, and in a funny way
the shabby, dangerous streets of Southampton’s docklands and the lowlife that crept around the area. But also the good people she’d known for so long.

The Underground was another way to get around and she was using it to discover the city. She walked in Hyde Park, stood in front of Buckingham Palace and took time to visit the Tower of London. All the places she’d read about, but had never seen. Using the clothing coupons that Joe Keating had given her, she bought two black skirts and two white blouses, all ironed, ready for her first day at work.

She’d encountered a few of the other residents that shared her building. There was an elderly couple on the ground floor, a young man on hers and an older gentleman whom she met at the front door one day. They’d all been friendly and said ‘Hello,’ or ‘Good Morning,’ which was nice. But tomorrow she started work.

She went to the shared bathroom and took a bath. Afterwards, she laid out her clothes for the morning, wisely choosing comfortable shoes which she polished until they shone brightly. Checking her purse to make sure she had change for the Underground and after tidying her room, she climbed into bed.