The Runaway (41 page)

Polly pushed a finger tentatively under a corner of the flap and then turned to Dana. ‘Who’s yours from, queen?’ She leaned across to peer at the envelopes which her friend had tossed down on the table. ‘Aha! Sherlock Holmes Smith will tell you without so much as laying a finger on your letters. The one in the white envelope is from your mam and the one in the blue envelope is from Ralph. Sherlock Holmes Smith reckernises the writing.’

Dana nodded. ‘That’s right,’ she admitted. ‘But why don’t you open yours, Poll? It looks kind of official. Put
me out of my misery, girl, for as you well know I’m curious as a cat.’

‘Oh, shut up jabberin’ and butter some bread to go with the fish and chips,’ Polly said. She put her hands to her warm cheeks. ‘I don’t think I’ll open my letter just yet. I’ll wait till Ernie’s gone home.’

‘People who are going to marry one day don’t keep secrets from each other,’ Ernie said reprovingly. ‘Now I’m a man of substance, our Polly, I don’t see no reason why we have to wait for the war to end. What with kids being evacuated and factory workers moving out of the city to be near their work I reckon we could afford to rent a couple of rooms, or even a little house. What say we give it a go, queen?’

But Polly had opened her letter. She stared at the first page, for there were several, and Dana saw her lips moving as she read the contents to herself, saw also her cheeks begin to flame with excitement. Then she flung her arms round Ernie’s neck and gave him a kiss, flourishing the papers under his nose as she did so. ‘Oh, Ernie, ain’t I the cleverest gal you ever did meet?’ she said exultantly. ‘Remember when the government closed all the cinemas and that, and Dana and meself were out of a job? Well, I applied to join the WAAFs, had me interview and passed me medical all right, but of course there was a rush of girls wanting to join so we were told there might be a bit of a wait before we were either accepted or rejected. And I’m accepted, got me rail pass an’ all, and I’ll be off to the training centre next Monday week!’

Dana gasped, a hand flying to her mouth, and was hard put to it to hide her very real dismay. It had never
occurred to her that Polly might volunteer for one of the services, and even had it done so she would not have thought her friend would have been accepted. She was so small and slight, looking more like a twelve-year-old than a young woman. But it would not be tactful to say so. Instead, she conjured up a delighted smile. ‘Oh, Polly what wonderful news, but
how
we shall miss you! It’ll be awful trying to manage the Freeway without you, but even worse here, in Temperance Court. Indeed, if it wasn’t for my promise to Jake, I’d follow your example and— Whatever is the matter, Ernie?’

Ernie’s face had turned plum-coloured, and to Dana’s considerable distress she saw a tear trickle down his cheek, to be impatiently brushed away. ‘The matter? What the devil do you think is the matter? I’m a feller, I am, fit as a bleedin’ fiddle, strong as a perishin’ ox, yet the buggers have turned me down, not just once but three effin’ times, and now this – this little blonde nothin’ goes and gets took on by the bleedin’ WAAF! There’s me, proud as a bloody peacock over bein’ made up to supervisor, with an extra ninepence an hour an’ all, about to say we’d get married on the strength of it, and – and …’

Polly looked as dismayed as Ernie clearly felt. ‘I’m – I’m that sorry, Ernie. I forgot you’d been turned down,’ Polly said, and Dana reflected that her friend had spoken with even less tact than usual. ‘I expect it’s because they don’t have nearly as many women volunteers as they do men. But surely you can see it’s good that they want me? I may be a little blonde nothin’, like you said, but somebody thinks I’ll be useful,’ she finished, some bravado entering her tone.

Dana began to speak, to say that she was sure Ernie had not meant to call names, but he overrode her, his eyes flashing indignantly, his face still red with both temper and disappointment. ‘Awright, awright, I shouldn’t of called you names,’ he said grudgingly. ‘But you shouldn’t of applied to the air force without telling me.’

But now Dana could see by her friend’s pink cheeks and sparkling eyes that Polly’s blood was up. The younger girl stamped her foot and put both hands on her hips, glaring at Ernie as though he were a German storm trooper about to attack her. ‘Oh yeah, Mr Wonderful? And just what would you have done if I had told you I’d applied? Answer me that! I suppose you’d have gone to the recruiting office and crossed me name off the list. Well ha bloody ha, a fat lot of notice they’d have took of you. I’ve signed on, I tell you.’

Ernie snorted. ‘Oh, signed on, have you? Then you can bloody well sign off,’ he shouted, apparently forgetting that his voice was probably audible all over Temperance Court; and if so this entire conversation was being eagerly overheard by any residents still up at this hour. ‘You can get down to that recruiting office first thing tomorrow morning and take your name off of the list! Say you done it without your feller knowing; that’ll fix it.’

Dana stared from face to face, reflecting that they looked like a pair of indignant terriers cheated of a rat. Ernie’s fair hair stood on end, his hands were clenched into fists and his face was still scarlet, whilst Polly’s face was rapidly beginning to resemble his, in colour at least. Dana stopped buttering bread and shouted at her
companions to shut up. Too late, of course, she told herself ruefully, but at least if it came to blows, which looked likely, Polly and Ernie would not have an audience listening to their every word.

However, it seemed the mere reminder that they might be overheard had been enough to bring the combatants down to earth, though not, alas, to end the dispute. Polly was still defiant, Ernie still insistent that she should say she had changed her mind, and presently Dana decided that she would have to take sides, though reluctantly. The couple were still swapping insults – Ernie was a pig-headed bossy beast, Polly a stubborn stupid kid – when Dana’s voice rose, shouting them both down. ‘Polly, Ernie, behave yourselves! Squabbling like a pair of kids in a kindergarten is all very well but I’m afraid, Ernie, that Polly has a point. She signed on, passed her medical and her interview and has been accepted as a member of His Majesty’s air force. She can’t simply change her mind, nor let you change it for her. And as for her not telling you she’d applied … well, you’ve rather proved her point, haven’t you? You would have kicked up an enormous fuss …’

‘No I wouldn’t, because I’d never have believed for one moment that she’d be accepted,’ Ernie said unwisely. Polly gave a gasp of outrage, bounced across the few feet which separated them and punched Ernie on the nose with enough force to send him staggering backwards. He crashed into Dana’s table, sending bread and butter, battered fish, chips and the bottle of vinegar flying, and added to his unpopularity by bleeding over everything from his poor injured nose.

Polly, clearly aghast by what she had done, began to
try to apologise, but Ernie was having none of it. ‘Say what you like, that was an – an unprovoked attack,’ he said stiffly. ‘I didn’t do nuffin’, so you can bloody well clear up the mess you made, Polly. I’m off.’ And before either of the others could stop him he had slammed out of the kitchen and they could hear him clattering across the cobbles and disappearing into the blackout.

Left to themselves the two girls stared rather helplessly at the chaos surrounding them, then without exchanging another word began to clear up. Polly collected the ruined fish and chips, offering rather timidly to save any food which was not spotted or streaked with Ernie’s blood, but Dana, with a shudder, refused this well-meant offer.

‘I’m afraid it will all have to go into the bin, because they truly aren’t fit for human consumption,’ she said firmly, ignoring Polly’s muttered reminder that there was a war on. ‘Fetch the jam out of the pantry, Poll, and I’ll cut some more bread and butter. It’s a pity about poor Ernie’s fish supper, but we’ve got bread and jam, which will have to fill the chinks. There’s plenty for all three of us, if Ernie deigns to return after what you did to him.’

Polly gave a rather watery giggle. ‘Since it’s already eleven o’clock – no, a quarter past – I can’t see him coming back tonight,’ she observed. ‘But I’ll bet my bottom dollar that he turns up at the Freeway as soon as his shift finishes tomorrow, full of apologies for all the horrible things he said. Oh, Dana, I swear I didn’t mean to clout him on the snitch …’

‘I’m sure you didn’t,’ Dana agreed readily, ‘but it’s a good thing he’s been brought up never to hit a lady because for one minute, just before the blood started to flow, I thought I read retribution in his eye. But I am
sure you’re right and he’ll come round just as soon as he can.’

But Dana was wrong. Three days passed and both Dana and Polly were beginning to get seriously worried. On the fourth day, Polly screwed up her courage and rang Ernie’s factory from the call box on the corner. She could not speak to Ernie himself but left a message which the girl on the switchboard promised faithfully to pass on. All Polly said was: ‘Missing you. Come to supper tonight after the Freeway closes.’ She had wanted to add ‘It won’t be fish and chips!’ but Dana had dissuaded her.

‘You may still think it’s funny but I expect Ernie’s nose is still the shape and colour of a ripe tomato, and if you ask me he’s probably sporting a black eye as well. I expect he’ll want to be able to look dignified when he sees you next.’

Polly had looked aghast. ‘A black eye?’ she quavered. ‘Oh, Dana, will he ever forgive me?’ But when the girls arrived back at Temperance Court that evening they saw him in the faint moonlight, standing by the front door and clutching a large, newspaper-wrapped parcel.

Polly, still conscience-stricken, began to apologise for the happenings at their previous meeting, but Ernie took the key from Dana in a masterful manner, unlocked the door and ushered them into the kitchen, then lit the lamp. As Dana had foretold, there was purplish bruising beneath his right eye and across his cheek, but his smile, as he unwrapped the large parcel of fish and chips, was triumphant. ‘Shurrup, our Polly, and let a feller get a word in edgeways,’ he said genially. ‘I’ve got an announcement to make.’ He pushed Polly into a chair and waited whilst Dana, too, sat down,
then cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. ‘You ain’t the only one what’s going to fight for her country, Polly Smith,’ he announced. ‘I’ve been and gone and joined the merchant fleet, without havin’ to answer one question concernin’ why I wheezes when I has to run half a mile. So what do you think of that?’

For a moment both girls were too stunned to speak. Then, quite unexpectedly, Polly burst into tears, jumped up from her seat and flung her arms round Ernie’s neck. ‘You mustn’t, you can’t, I won’t let you,’ she wailed, tears spouting from her eyes like fountains. ‘I were talkin’ to Tommy Finch what lives two doors down and he were telling me about something called the wolf pack, what the Germans have got skulkin’ under the Atlantic. He says they torpedo our merchant ships ’cos it’s like it used to be in the old days …’ she turned tear-drenched eyes upon Dana, ‘you know, the king’s troops or whatever would lay siege to a town and try and starve ’em out. That’s what this here wolf pack will do – attack the ships bringin’ supplies from America to try to starve
us
out. And o’course the men on the ships will either drown or be killed by the wolf pack when they’s strugglin’ in the water. Oh, oh, oh, it’s all my fault. I wish I’d never joined the perishin’ WAAF, ’cos then you’d not of even thought about goin’ to sea! Oh, and there’s aircraft what’ll bomb the ships to stop them gettin’ through with grub and guns …’

But at this point Dana thought it best to intervene, for she had seen the colour drain from Ernie’s face and a look of considerable trepidation appear in his eyes. Hastily, she got to her feet and tapped Polly’s shoulder, and then, when Polly did not respond, she tugged her
friend free from Ernie’s embrace and spoke sternly. ‘Polly Smith, how dare you say such stupid things! Do you think the Navy are sailing across the Atlantic just for show? Haven’t you heard of convoys? Our fighting ships surround the merchant shipping and keep it safe. They’ve got things called depth charges which blow submarines apart, and of course if the Jerries are lucky and score a hit on one of our ships, the fellers take to the lifeboats and are picked up and brought back to port by their rescuers. So, though what Ernie will be doing is just as brave as though he were in the Royal Navy and not the merchant fleet, he’ll be fine, honestly he will.’

‘Oh,’ Polly said doubtfully. She rubbed at her tear-wet cheeks. Then a fresh thought occurred to her and the tears welled up again. ‘Oh, but if I’d known Ernie was going to sea, I’d have applied to join the Wrens. I might even of got on the same ship as him!’

‘No you wouldn’t,’ Dana said hastily, grinning at Ernie, who was once more looking both proud and happy. ‘Wrens don’t go to sea, WAAFs don’t fly in aeroplanes and Ats – they’re the army girls, the ATS – don’t get issued with rifles or – or bayonets. And now let’s start on the fish and chips before they go cold and greasy.’

Once in her own bed that night, however, Dana gave her future serious thought. All around her, women were joining one or other of the forces and she realised that she longed to be one of them. Uniforms apart, the Land Army definitely beckoned. She knew farming, could drive a tractor or manage a team of horses on the plough, and do many other things which farmers and their wives and children learned as a matter of course. But she had given Jake her word that she would look after
his precious cinema, and though the prospect seemed horribly dull when compared with the excitements of life in any of the forces, she did not feel she could go back on the promise which she had given to Jake so easily, and with so little thought. It was all very well telling herself that circumstances altered cases; her one attempt at finding someone to cover for her as manageress of the whole cinema had nearly ended in disaster. She had seen half a dozen applicants, most of whom were elderly and seemed to consider that working for a woman was something they preferred not to tolerate. The man she had eventually appointed, however, seemed perfect for the job. He was in his forties, handsome and self-confident, and had managed one of the big cinemas in London before returning to his Liverpool home to keep an eye on his elderly mother, left a widow after his father’s death. Jimmy Strange did not object to taking orders from a woman, agreed with her choice of films and seemed willing to muck in, doing any job that needed an extra pair of hands from waiting on in the cafeteria to selling tickets, ushering folk to their seats, or selling ice cream, popcorn and chocolate bars during the interval.