The Docklands Girls (9 page)

A new threat emerged. The Germans were sending over bombs called V-1s, buzz bombs or doodlebugs as the locals called them. The public had been warned to take cover if they heard the curious engine noise stop or if they saw the flame from the bomb disappear. It took seconds before the explosion. The south of England had been shaken for thirty long hours. It was like the Blitz all over again. Southampton was fortunate; there were only three attacks, two in Bitterne, but luckily without fatalities.

Belle and Cora decided to share accommodation now they were both working. They applied to be on different shifts so as not to be with each other twenty-four hours a day, which they considered would be too much, even though they were such close friends. It worked well as they shared the household chores and the cooking.

They remained in the same vicinity where the flats were cheaper and they were near their place of work. However, they still managed to spend an evening out together, going to the cinema, enjoying the fleshpots and they still kept in touch with their old associates.

It was on one such occasion, sitting in the Horse and Groom, talking to their old mates that Belle suddenly turned pale and spilt her glass of beer.

Cora was the first to realise that something was wrong.

‘What is it, Belle?’ she asked.

‘Those two men, standing at the bar. The big one … I heard his voice, that’s the one who raped me!’

Cora looked across the bar at the men. They looked like dockers, in their shabby trousers and jackets. One was wearing a flat cap.

‘Which one?’ whispered Cora.

Looking down into her lap so as not to be noticed, Belle said, ‘The one without the cap. I’d know that voice anywhere.’

The other girls looked over at the men.

‘Don’t any of you have anything to do with him and don’t leave here alone like I did,’ Belle warned.

‘What do you want to do, Belle?’ asked Cora. ‘Do you want to leave?’

Belle was now really agitated. ‘Yes, let’s go.’ She rose from the chair.

The man at the bar looked over. He saw Belle and watched her carefully as she walked to the door. She looked back over her shoulder at him and saw the grin on his face. She walked outside and was violently sick.

Cora was standing over her trying to comfort her when a quiet voice asked, ‘What’s the problem? Is your friend ill? Can I help?’

It was Joe Keating.

Very quietly Cora explained. ‘There’s a man at the bar who attacked my friend Belle a few months back and she recognised him. She’s in shock.’

‘What does he look like?’ asked Keating.

Cora described him.

‘Right, well you take your friend home, I’ll go into the bar and make sure he doesn’t follow you, if he does, I’ll come and walk with you.’

Cora thanked him and quickly led Belle away.

Joe Keating walked into the bar and saw the two men. He walked up to the counter and, standing beside them, ordered a drink. The men continued to chat, so Joe sat at a nearby table watching, until much later when the men left together.

The following night there was a report in the
Southern Evening Echo
about a dockworker found badly beaten near Canal Walk who had been hospitalised with serious injuries.

It was the main topic of gossip in the Horse and Groom when it was discovered it had been a customer who’d been drinking in the bar the night before. It wasn’t long before the brasses realised it was the man who’d attacked Belle and they made sure she was told about it.

‘Oh my God!’ Cora exclaimed, then turning to her friend asked, ‘Do you think that Mr Keating had anything to do with it?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Belle, ‘why would he get so involved?’

But just at that moment, one of the brasses came over and told them the man had upset a couple of men in the bar and after he left, they followed. ‘Draw your own conclusions,’ she said.

Belle glanced over at Cora. ‘There you are then!’

‘So I was wrong, thank goodness for that.’

Meanwhile, in France, territory was being won and lost. Troops gained a foothold only to be driven back. The fighting was fierce, but eventually things began to change. Heavy bombings had disrupted the German communications and destroyed their fire power. Now, in some areas, they were prepared to surrender at the sight of the invading troops. Lines of German prisoners filled the roadsides as American and British tanks passed through in various areas of France.

Nevertheless, some strongholds were still well defended. It was here that Milt and his company were still fighting. Food was short, sleep was brief. The troops were tired and dirty, all of them longing for a respite, a hot meal and a wash.

The company was holed up on farmland, with a German company approaching through the fields of corn. Some of the men were in a cow shed, some in an old barn, Jackson and a few others crouched down in what had been a pigsty.

‘Jesus, this place stinks!’ exclaimed Jackson in disgust. ‘I ain’t never gonna get the smell out of my uniform.’

One of his mates burst out laughing. ‘You ain’t got no hope of getting laid again if you don’t. Even Belle wouldn’t have you smelling like that.’

An eruption of gunfire stilled any further conversation.

Machine-gun fire rattled as the Americans fired on the approaching enemy and, when they were closer, a flame thrower turned the growing corn into a furnace. Screams of pain could be heard. Men, in flames ran in panic.

‘Move out!’ yelled Milt. His men moved forward, firing as they went, stopping to throw grenades, moving forward again whilst their own planes flew over, dropping bombs on the German lines, until eventually the field was theirs.

Jackson got to his feet and cheered, holding his rifle in the air in triumph. A shot rang out and he fell to the ground. Another sounded and the German who’d fired at Jackson also fell to the ground.

Milt came running, calling, ‘Medic!’ loudly. He reached Jackson. ‘You bloody fool! What the hell were you thinking?’ He stooped down beside Jackson, and covered the wound on his shoulder with a pack to stem the bleeding.

‘Sorry, Sergeant. I wasn’t thinking.’ He winced with pain. A medic knelt beside him and tended to him, giving him an injection before dressing the wound.

‘Am I gonna die?’ asked Jackson fearfully.

‘No, soldier; you’ll be fine, but we must get you to a field hospital. They’ll take care of you. Although you’ll be going home would be my guess.’

Jackson let out a sigh of relief. The thought of dying on the battlefield and never seeing his family again had always been at the back of his mind, but he’d accepted it as a price
you had to pay for war. Now it seemed possible that he had been spared. He gave a silent prayer, knowing how stupid he’d been and how fortunate.

A couple of weeks later, Belle opened a letter from Jackson. As she read it, she let out a cry of alarm.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Cora.

‘Jackson’s been injured!’ She read on. ‘He’s fine, thank God. He’s being shipped back here to the hospital at Netley apparently. He’ll let me know when. He says he caught a bullet in his shoulder and has had an operation, but in time he’ll be fine. He’s been in a field hospital.’

‘Oh, Belle, you’ll be able to visit him so you will see him again, after all.’ Then she saw her friend was in tears. Rushing to her side, she held her close. ‘He’s alive, Belle! Don’t cry.’

‘I know and thank God for that, it’s just that I thought I’d never see him again and now I will – I’m so happy!’

Cora started to laugh. ‘It’s no wonder that men can never understand a woman. I’ll make us a cup of tea – that puts everything right.’

Three weeks later, Belle took a bus to the hospital in Netley, which had been taken over by the American army. She stopped at the reception desk and asked to see Private Jackson Butler and was directed to one of the wards.

Her heart was beating rapidly; she took a deep breath and walked on. Every bed was full. Nurses were busy tending to the patients, but one of them stopped to tell Belle which bed she was looking for. It was at the far end by a window.

Jackson was propped up on his pillows, one shoulder bandaged and in a sling, eyes closed. Belle stood and looked at him, trying to fight back the tears.

‘Hello Jackson, love,’ she said softly.

He opened his eyes and when he saw who was standing beside him, he grinned broadly. ‘Belle!’

She leant over and kissed him. ‘Didn’t I tell you to duck and didn’t you promise me that you would?’

He hugged her with one arm until she could hardly breathe.

‘Oh, Belle, I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. How are you?’

She sat in the chair beside the bed. ‘More to the point, how are
you
?’

He grimaced. ‘Fine, I’m fine. I caught a bullet in my shoulder, but after an operation, it’ll mend in time. They’re gonna send me home, Belle.’

‘At least you won’t have to go back to the fighting.’

He took her hand. ‘It was pretty hairy out there, Belle; we lost a lot of good men. But we had a great sergeant who kept us as safe as it was possible. Milt Miller’s a good soldier.’

‘Milt Miller? Our supervisor at the factory is engaged to a Milt Miller, a sergeant. It must be the same man.’

‘Well, you tell her from me, he’s fine.’ His expression softened as he gazed at her. ‘I sure missed you, Belle. I thought about you a lot. I wish I could come back and convalesce with you.’

‘No more than I do, darling. I would take such care of you, you wouldn’t believe.’

A nurse came over and asked Belle if she’d like a cup of tea.

Belle thanked her and said she’d love one. Then asked, ‘How long will Private Butler be staying here?’

‘At least a couple more weeks.’ She looked at her patient. ‘Well, Private, you look pretty chipper.’ Then to Belle she said, ‘Having a visitor does the men so much good, but unfortunately most of the men here have to wait to get back home first.’ Looking at Jackson, she added, ‘You’re a lucky man!’

He chuckled and said, ‘Nurse, you have no idea just how lucky.’

When they were alone, Jackson said quietly. ‘Gee, Belle, I want so much to hold you and feel you close to me.’

She caressed his face. ‘I know, I feel the same. We had such good times together, didn’t we?’

‘We sure did, honey, and when I go home, that’s what I’ll remember most of all. You made me feel like a man, just like any other.’

‘You were more of a man than many I’ve known, Jackson; you just remember that.’

But in her heart she knew that when he returned to Alabama, the same old restrictions would be facing him and she worried as to how it would affect him. But she kept these thoughts to herself.

She stayed until visiting time was over, promising to come again the following day and every day until he was shipped home.

‘Can you manage to do that with your job?’

‘Yes. I’m on an early shift so my afternoons are free.’

‘Belle, honey, I’m so glad you ain’t on the streets no more.’

‘Me too,’ she agreed. ‘Working in a factory is great and I’m enjoying it.’

‘Why did you decide to change your job?’

There was no way Belle was going to tell him the truth. ‘I heard of a job going in the factory. The money was good and I could please myself as to what hours I worked. It was time for a change. Cora, one of the other girls, now works with me. We share a flat, so it’s a whole new life.’

A nurse came to tell her visiting hours were over. She kissed Jackson goodbye until the following day when she would return.

‘No flirting with the nurses now,’ she laughed as she rose to leave.

‘There’s only one woman for me, you know that, Belle, honey.’ And he watched her leave, waving to her as she looked back from the doorway.

The following morning, Belle was able to give Hildy the news that her fiancé was fine. She told Hildy what Jackson had said about Milt being a good soldier and saw how pleased her supervisor was.

‘I just pray he comes through it all, so we can be together again. I’m glad your friend is okay. When I write to Milt, I’ll tell him about Jackson. He’ll be pleased to have news of one of his men.’

During the next two weeks, Belle spent her afternoons at the hospital. After a few days, Jackson was able to walk with her in the grounds. They would find a secluded spot away from prying eyes where they could snuggle up together and exchange kisses and one afternoon, Jackson was allowed out of the hospital grounds for the afternoon. They took a
taxi to Belle’s flat where they were able to climb into bed and make love once again.

As they lay together, content to be with each other, Belle said, ‘I’m really going to miss you when you leave … again!’

‘Me too, honey, but you know there ain’t no way we can be together. Folks have learnt a certain amount of tolerance during wartime, but after … we’d have no chance and I wouldn’t dream of putting you in a situation like that.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘You will meet some nice guy and settle down. A man who will take care of you, who will be acceptable to your friends and others. You know I’m being honest, honey. That’s life. That’s reality.’

She knew he was right, but it didn’t help the way she was feeling.

That evening, she received a telegram from Jackson saying he’d just been told he was being moved out the following morning and he would write. Although she knew it was coming at some point, she was devastated.

It took Belle some time to get over the departure of Jackson Butler. Cora was in despair trying to cheer her friend, but Belle would go to work, cook a meal, wash up and go to bed. Eventually she began to emerge from her depression and was more her old self.

It was her birthday on the Saturday and Cora suggested that they get some friends together at the Lord Roberts and have a party and, to that end, the word spread. Everyone took something to eat and the landlord gave the first drink for free. It turned out to be quite a night.

Belle was a popular woman and all evening long folk gathered, bringing gifts and cards. The pianist was playing and before long the sound of singing echoed round Canal Walk. ‘Roll Me Over in the Clover’ was followed by ‘Roll Out the Barrel’ and so on.

Towards the end of the evening, Belle, now well lubricated with alcohol, stood in the middle of the bar and started to sing ‘We’ll Meet Again’ and her husky voice filled with emotion. The bar was silent until she’d finished, then the applause rang out, but Cora saw the tears in her eyes
and knew that she’d been thinking of Jackson.

Belle walked back to her seat, but didn’t sit down. She looked at Cora and with a tremble in her voice said, ‘Let’s go home.’

Hildy had written to Milt telling him about Jackson and that he’d been shipped home. She was very surprised when she received an answer. Milt told her that Jackson had saved his life and the following day during lunch break, she shared the news with Belle.

‘It seems that your man saw a sniper about to shoot Milt and pushed him down on the ground, then shot the sniper.’

Belle was puffed up with pride. ‘That’s marvellous,’ she said. ‘My Jackson is a special kind of man.’

‘Well, next time you write, you thank him for me.’

‘I certainly will,’ said Belle, wondering if she’d hear once Jackson was home.

Three weeks later, Belle was sitting in her dressing gown having a cup of tea, when she heard the postman put something through the letter box. There on the mat was a letter with an American stamp on it. Picking it up, she hurried back to the kitchen, sat down and opened the envelope.

She read the letter several times. It was as she thought. He was now too much of a man to be treated with contempt and she felt he’d made a good choice to move to New York. She remembered how the GIs from the northern states of America had not been the ones to take offence at seeing a black man in their midst; they were treated like any other soldier. It had been those from the southern states who’d
been so outraged due to their upbringing. She’d have to wait to hear from him again with an address to which she could reply, but she was delighted that he had written.

Joe Keating knocked on Olive’s kitchen door and gave her his notice. She was surprised and disappointed. After all her lodger had come and gone quietly, paid his rent on time and had been no trouble.

‘I’ll be leaving tomorrow,’ he told her.

‘But you’ve paid until the end of the week,’ she argued.

‘Yes, I’m aware of that.’

‘I hope you’re not expecting a rebate?’

Joe could see the woman was ready for battle and thought what an unpleasant creature she was.

‘No, Mrs Dickson, I’m not. After all, it’s my choice as to when I leave, not yours.’ He turned and walked upstairs.

She didn’t say a word. There was a coldness in his tone that took her by surprise. Until then he’d been polite and affable, but today was very different. It made her a tad uncomfortable, which for her was a new experience.

That evening, Joe went out for a meal, then went to the cinema. At the end of the programme, as he walked down the stairs from the circle to the foyer, he saw Cora Barnes with her friend.

‘Good evening, ladies.’

They both turned and looked surprised. ‘Hello Mr Keating,’ said Cora, ‘and how are you?’

‘Fine, thank you.’ He nodded to Belle. Then putting his hand in his pocket he took out a small card. Handing it to Cora he said, ‘When eventually you do come to London,
give me a call. I might be able to find you a job.’ With a smile, he walked away.

They both looked at the card. It said ‘Joe Keating. Business Consultant’ and an address of a London bank, with a phone number.

Belle glared at her friend. ‘You be very careful of that man!’

Cora laughed loudly. ‘Oh, Belle, he’s a nice bloke and that was really kind of him.’

Belle looked at her in astonishment. ‘There’s kind, but make sure there aren’t any strings attached. These days no one does anything for nothing. You know that!’

‘I probably won’t ever need his help, but I’ll keep it because you never know.’

Belle didn’t reply.

It was now late August and the news of the war was good. Paris had been liberated by the French and the tricolour flag replaced the Nazi swastika on the Eiffel Tower. It wasn’t all joyful in the beginning: collaborators were dragged through the streets and beaten and police had to protect captured German officers from being lynched. But eventually the celebrations began.

This was heartening news for troops still fighting in other parts of the country. It spurred them on with the thought that the fighting would soon be at an end and they could return to the safety of their homes.

Hank Mason wrote to Cora telling her all this. Her letters had been a constant comfort during the tough days and he was grateful to her. He was especially pleased to read that she was no longer working the streets of Southampton’s docklands. He wrote:

This made her smile. She had enjoyed their relationship, but that was all it was and his friendly letters to her made that clear.

She really liked Hank, but she wasn’t in love with him. She could hardly wait for the war to end so she could move to the big city and start anew. The thought of it did scare her a little. Southampton was familiar and London wasn’t, but she was still determined to go. If she did find it hard to find work, she still had Joe Keating’s card, but she’d only contact him in an emergency.

In bed at night, she’d try to picture her future and make plans. Eventually she wanted a nice flat with two bedrooms, in case she had guests. But realised this wasn’t going to happen at once. It took time to find a nice place and she’d probably like to be outside the confines of the city. She didn’t know the area and would have to explore before deciding where she’d like to live. It excited her and scared her at the same time. But she was determined to be a new woman in every way. No one would know of her background so she could reinvent herself. She liked that idea.