by Annie Groves
The men unrolled the canvas stretcher they had brought and gently, between them, the three adults helped Percy onto it with as little disturbance as possible, anxious not to cause him more pain. Only then did Belinda recognise the ARP man. ‘Wait – it’s Billy, isn’t it?’ She knew that broad smile even in the dimness of the twilight.
Billy nodded. ‘Bet you wasn’t expecting to see me,’ he chuckled. ‘It should have been the other ambulance man come in here, but he couldn’t find nowhere to park that wouldn’t block the back lane, so I said I’d do it while he waited on the main road. Quick, let’s get ourselves away from whatever that stuff is. You ain’t got any on you, have you?’ His gaze grew anxious.
Belinda shook her head as they all made their way down the narrow back lane and out to the waiting ambulance. ‘No, thank goodness. But I’m glad you turned up when you did. I might have been in a bit of a pickle if we’d been there much longer.’ She shivered at the thought of it.
The ambulance driver got out and helped lift Percy into the back of the vehicle. ‘All right, son,’ he said, his voice kindly and reassuring. He was old enough to be her father, Belinda saw, and was just the sort of figure she would have wanted to rescue her if she’d been unlucky enough to break her leg like that. Percy would be in good hands now, and she could breathe easily again.
‘I better go back and make sure that gate is closed, then I’ll have to wait for my colleague,’ Billy said, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘They’ll send someone what knows about chemicals.’
‘Good,’ said Belinda, who had been worrying about this for much of the time she’d sat with Percy in the fading light. ‘I think it will take more than a quick mop-around. Heaven knows what they’ve been doing in there, but we weren’t far away from a very nasty ending indeed.’
Billy tutted as he carefully shut the old gate. ‘Some people got no morals at all. To think they was storing that right where all these people live. Anything could have happened.’
‘It nearly did,’ said Belinda, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. Now that she was out of danger, she realised how scared she’d been.
‘We’ll get them,’ said Billy soberly. ‘We told the police and they’ll go round asking everyone who might have seen whoever was in here. Big stack of boxes like this, stands to reason somebody will have seen something. They won’t get away with it. Look, there’s Mr Dawson. He’s our expert for things like this. Used to work in a chemical factory, knows what he’s about.’
Belinda sighed with relief as Billy quickly updated the man, who’d appeared out of the shadows from the other end of the service lane. He was tall and thin, again almost her father’s age, and seemed totally unsurprised by the evening’s events. ‘Well, no need for you two to stick around any longer,’ he said. ‘Well done, Reilly, you kept your head and secured the place. I’ll take over now. You’re due off shift, aren’t you? Best get along and give my regards to your mother.’
Billy nodded and needed no further encouragement. ‘I will. Good night then. I’ll be getting along, like you say. You going this way, nurse?’
Belinda grinned to herself as she fell into step beside him, noting how he hadn’t revealed he knew her first name in front of his more senior colleague. ‘My bike is by the railings right next to where the ambulance parked,’ she said, swinging her Gladstone bag. ‘I’m glad the police are taking this seriously, Billy. I hate those black marketeers; they’re the lowest of the low. Taking advantage of there being a war on. I hope they catch them, lock them up and throw away the key.’
Billy nodded, and if he was surprised by her vehemence he didn’t show it. ‘They’re scum all right,’ he agreed. ‘Leaving all that poison where a kiddie could hurt himself on it like that, it beggars belief. Course he should never have been in there in the first place, but even so.’
‘He thought he was on an adventure,’ said Belinda sadly. ‘He told me he’d seen the stack of boxes and thought he could be like a mountain climber. He didn’t stop to think beyond that.’ She came to a halt. ‘Ah, well. This is me. That’s my bike.’ She pointed to the sturdy frame of one of the old boneshakers all the nurses were now so used to.
Billy grinned at her and she thought again that he really did have the friendliest face. ‘I dunno how you lot get around on those old things. I seen Edith on one that made so much noise it was like a tram coming round a corner.’
‘They’re not so bad.’ She tucked another stray curl behind her ear.
‘Why don’t you push it and then I can walk back your way, make sure you get to the home in one piece,’ he suggested.
‘But you live in the opposite direction,’ Belinda pointed out, knowing Victory Walk was out of his way, but pleased at the offer nonetheless.
Billy shrugged. ‘It’s not that far. I can easily cut through the Downs and get back to Ma that way. Can’t have one of our precious nurses coming to harm after saving someone with a broken leg. It’s a nasty injury – I should know.’
‘I’m used to cycling back even when it’s dark, you know,’ she said lightly, but not in such a way as to make him change his mind. She remembered the accident he’d been in and how brave he was. He hadn’t hesitated tonight, either, even when – for all he knew – it could have got very nasty indeed. He obviously had plenty of courage. She liked that in a man.
‘Nope, I’m seeing you home and that’s all there is to it,’ he said cheerfully, falling in beside her as she slung her bag into the basket on the front of the old bike and began to wheel it along the pavement. There was just enough daylight left to see where they were going.
They passed a few people heading back to their houses after a late shift, or going to the factories which carried on producing essential materials through the night, but the streets were relatively peaceful. The stars were beginning to come out in the twilight and, for a moment, Belinda thought she could almost convince herself that there was no war, that the RAF weren’t preparing to go into battle over the south coast and the Channel even as she walked along the familiar road. Her brother would be one of them. He was another one who didn’t lack courage.
‘Penny for them,’ Billy said, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for Belinda to tell him how much she missed David; how she tried not to worry but knew from all the reports about the Battle of Britain what sort of danger he might be in.
Billy listened and didn’t try to interrupt or to tell her that her brother was bound to be all right. She respected that. There was no point in pretending all the airmen came home unscathed. She had to hope for the best but be prepared for the worst, just as everybody else who had a loved one in the air force did.
‘You must be very proud of him,’ Billy said when she had finished.
She paused for a moment. ‘Yes. I am. He didn’t wait to be called up; he was off to the recruitment office as soon as he could,’ she replied.
‘Well, I expect he’s proud of you too,’ Billy told her. ‘It’s no joke what you all do; it’s proper opened my eyes getting to know your mates Edith and Alice and hearing the sorts of things you have to cope with. I know it ain’t no picnic.’
Belinda shrugged as they turned the corner into Victory Walk. ‘It’s not usually as exciting as this evening. It’s often just changing dressings on people who’ve fallen over. Then again, sometimes it makes you long for a stiff drink.’
She stopped herself from saying more, conscious that he might misunderstand and think she was asking him out for a drink, when no lady would do such a thing – or admit to a liking for stiff drinks in the first place.
‘Know what you mean,’ he said, and for one moment Belinda thought he might ask her to join him at the pub one evening. But instead he came to a halt outside the nurses’ home, and the moment – if there had even been one – passed.
‘Thank you, Billy, for everything you did this evening,’ she said, a little shy suddenly, which wasn’t like her at all.
‘Think nothing of it,’ he said easily. ‘See y
ou around then.’
‘Bye, Billy.’ Belinda stood at the gate as he waved and walked away. She wondered what she would have said if he had asked her out. Then she pushed the thought away and wheeled her heavy bike across to its stand, to join the others.
CHAPTER TEN
‘You’ll never guess what I just heard.’ Mary rushed across to where her friends were sitting for their evening meal. ‘It’s rather sad.’
Edith and Alice looked up, while Belinda made space for one more person. They moved their bowls out of the way as Mary set hers down.
‘What’s it like?’ she asked, nodding at the nondescript liquid.
‘Healthy tasting,’ said Edith with a scowl.
‘Filling,’ said Alice, trying to find something cheerful to say about it. ‘What’s your sad news, Mary?’
Mary sat down, picked up her spoon and then put it down again. ‘Oh, it’s something I heard from one of my patients this afternoon. Old Mrs Massey. The one with the failing eyesight – do you remember, I’ve told you about her before.’
Edith nodded. ‘The one with all the cats?’
‘That’s right,’ Mary said. ‘Her place is full of them, I’ve no idea how she manages to feed them all. Anyway, it’s such a small world, it turns out she’s the auntie of those friends of Billy’s – you know, those brothers? Ronald who works with him down at the docks, and Alfie the airman.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Edith, vaguely recalling them from the evening at the Duke’s Arms when she couldn’t wait to go home. She hadn’t spoken to either of them, so they had made very little impression.
‘Well, she got quite upset because one of the men Alfie had trained alongside and then fought with has just been killed in action.’
Belinda looked up, her face set. ‘Was he shot down?’
Mary realised why Belinda was looking at her so intently. ‘I’m afraid so. In fact it’s an even bigger coincidence because we met him. It was that Canadian pilot, Laurence. You know, the really handsome chap with the dark hair. Isn’t that a shame? What a waste.’
Edith put down her spoon with a clatter but nobody noticed, as Belinda gasped and even Alice frowned. ‘I remember you talking about him, although I didn’t meet him. That is sad.’
‘And he didn’t even have to fight. He wouldn’t have been called up or anything; he only did it because his mother was Scottish,’ Belinda added. ‘He told me all about it that night, and he bought us all drinks. He was so generous. It doesn’t seem fair.’
Mary sighed. ‘No, it doesn’t, does it? He was a real hero, dying in the defence of somewhere that wasn’t even his home country.’
‘You have to admire someone like that,’ Alice said. ‘He must have known what the odds were, and yet he still went ahead and did what he thought was right.’
‘Oh, they know the odds all right,’ Belinda said grimly. Then she brightened a little. ‘And yet, as you say, they go on and do it anyway. Yes, heroes, the lot of them.’ She choked a little.
Edith remained silent. She was the only one there who knew that Laurence might well have been a hero in everyone else’s eyes, but he had a dark side too. He was no hero to her after what he had done to Peggy. Yet she would say nothing. It was not her secret to tell. Besides, it didn’t do to speak ill of the dead – even when they were capable of such evil acts. She pushed away the remainder of her soup, suddenly revolted at the thought of eating any more.
Mary looked across at her. ‘Oh, don’t you want that? Shame to waste it, even though it’s a bit like potato water.’
‘Because that’s exactly what it is,’ Belinda suggested.
Edith gave a weak smile. ‘You go ahead and have it. As you said, no point in wasting it.’ Already her mind was turning over when she could go to see Peggy and what she would say. Her friend ought to know, and as soon as possible, before she heard it from someone else. What if she was in the pub after a few port and lemons and one of the lads mentioned it in passing? She might blurt something out that she’d later regret. Edith had to protect her from that.
‘You all right, Edith? You’ve gone very quiet,’ Alice asked under her breath.
Edith flashed her a glance. Trust Alice to pick up on her abrupt change of mood. But this wasn’t something she could tell her closest friend, it wouldn’t have been fair to Peggy. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said softly. ‘Just reminded me of something, that’s all.’
Alice nodded in sympathy, and Edith bit her lip, feeling guilty because she knew that Alice would assume she was thinking about Harry. In one way, she could see why; anyone killed in battle meant a sad loss. But when it came to Laurence, Edith realised that what she really felt was relief.
Kathleen drew her front door key out of her pocket, sighing with exhaustion but feeling pleased with herself nonetheless. She swung the pram around so that she could more easily push it into the front room, a move she was now expert at. ‘Ready for your tea, Brian?’ she asked, even though she suspected Flo had given him more cheese scones than she’d let on about.
Kathleen was always looking for ways that she could make it up to the Banham family after they had shown her such kindness when she’d been down on her luck. More than that – she felt she wouldn’t have survived without them. Now she had the perfect opportunity. Flo was having trouble coping with the washing, and Mattie was too heavily pregnant now to manage it – she reckoned she had about six weeks to go if she’d got her dates right. So Kathleen had volunteered to do it and combine it with her own, as it was no trouble to her, and in fact it was a benefit because their line in the back yard was so much larger than the cramped one in her own small yard, which she had to share with the Coyne family upstairs. It was also easier to share the soap powder, making it go further. She loved the smell of Oxydol, Flo’s preferred type.
She bent to the shelf underneath the body of the pram to retrieve her bag of freshly clean laundry, tugging it free and propping it by Brian’s feet. She was about to push open her door when a window opened just above.
‘Ere, what you been doin’ to piss people off?’ Mrs Coyne stuck her head out of the gap and gave a malicious grin. ‘You must have done somethin’ really bad. Swearin’ and shoutin’ blue murder, she was.’
Kathleen looked up. ‘What do you mean? Who was swearing and shouting?’
Mrs Coyne glared. ‘Well, you should know. She seemed to know all about you. Really got it in for you, she has.’
‘There must be a mistake,’ Kathleen said, baffled.
‘I said to her, I can’t be of any help to you, I can’t,’ Mrs Coyne went on. ‘I told her, just cos I live above her don’t mean I’m privy to all her business. I sent her over to Mrs Bishop. I said: if anyone round here knows what Kathleen is up to, then it’ll be her. Was I right?’
Kathleen set the heavy parcel of laundry down on the pavement. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said. ‘I don’t have a clue who it is or what she could want. She must have got the wrong door.’
‘No, she definitely asked for you,’ said Mrs Coyne, obviously enjoying Kathleen’s discomfort. ‘Knew you had a little boy and everything. You better watch out for yourself.’
Kathleen sighed, picked up the laundry once more and tucked it by Brian’s feet. ‘You be good and don’t kick all the lovely clean clothes,’ she warned. ‘We’re just going to drop in on Mrs Bishop before tea after all.’ Perhaps it was a good thing that Flo had fed him those extra scones. As she turned the big pram around, the upstairs window slammed shut. Mrs Coyne had clearly decided there was no more fun to be had in taunting Kathleen.
Mrs Bishop was in, as the front-room curtains twitched, which was no surprise as she hardly ever left her house. She had often complained to Kathleen that none of her family ever bothered to come and take her out, and Kathleen prepared herself for the usual litany of grievances as she knocked on the woman’s door. At least she had been willing to mind Brian, and Brian was happy enough to go there, probably because he couldn’t yet understand what she
was moaning about, Kathleen thought uncharitably.
Mrs Bishop was only too happy to talk about the visit from the strange woman. ‘She looked about your age, maybe a bit younger, dear, and pardon me for being rude, but she wasn’t what you’d call a lady. Downright sluttish in fact – sorry, but you know what I mean. No better than she should be, if I’m any judge. I thought she was going to sit on your doorstep and wait till you got back at one point.’
‘She’d have had a long wait then,’ said Kathleen. ‘I’ve been doing laundry since first thing this morning. You’d think she’d have better things to do.’
‘Well she must have, dear, because she went away again after a while.’ Mrs Bishop raised her eyebrows. ‘I hate to think what sort of profession she’s in, if you get my drift. No doubt had to start getting herself ready for her evening shift, if you see what I mean. Not that I want to cast aspersions, but really … I thought to myself, this is a respectable street, and if she comes round here again I’ve a good mind to tell her so. Are you sure you don’t know her?’
‘Completely sure.’ But Kathleen was no further forward in finding out who it was. ‘Sorry you got caught like that, Mrs Bishop. I haven’t the foggiest what it could be about, but I suppose if she’s that desperate she’ll be back. Not much I can do about it till then.’
‘No, dear. But if she comes around and causes trouble, you can always bring the boy to me.’ A smile cracked the sour old woman’s face, as she had a genuinely soft spot for Brian.
‘Thank you, Mrs Bishop. I’m sure it won’t come to that.’ Kathleen trundled the pram back down Jeeves Place and finally made it to her own house. But the question kept nagging away at her as she put away the laundry and fed Brian his tea. Who on earth could it be and what did she want?
The little café off Ridley Road was busy but not full to bursting, which was exactly what Edith had hoped for when she’d arranged to meet Peggy when she came off shift. Too many people and they wouldn’t have been able to hear themselves think; too few and everybody else might have overheard their conversation. That was the last thing Edith wanted.