by Annie Groves
The four of them met halfway, out in the open space where often children would play football but which today was empty.
‘Fancy seeing you here,’ Edith smiled. ‘We fancied a quick stroll before dinner to wake us up a bit. How did you get on last night?’
Clarrie and Peggy looked at one another and then broke into peals of laughter. Edith and Alice glanced at each other, bemused. ‘Come on, share the joke,’ Edith urged.
Peggy recovered first. ‘Don’t mind us, we’re so tired we don’t know if we’re coming or going,’ she admitted. ‘But look at us – doesn’t anything strike you as odd?’
‘Odd?’ Edith could not at first work out what her friend meant. Then she noticed the two young women were wearing high-heeled shoes, and their dresses were not what she might have chosen herself for a casual Sunday stroll. ‘Well … I’m not sure about your clothes …’
Peggy broke into another whoop of laughter and shimmied her shoulders, making her shiny rayon frock swing about. ‘We haven’t been home! We’ve been up all night! It was such a hoot!’
Edith’s eyebrows shot up.
Clarrie cleared her throat and began to explain. ‘We decided to go to the Hammersmith Palais for a change, like we’ve been talking about for ages. It’s really good there, the dancing is second to none. You’d love it, Edith.’ Edith tried to smile but knew that, with Harry unable to move – let alone dance – for the foreseeable future, a night at the Palais was very low on her list.
‘There was a band playing, with singers and everything,’ Peggy chipped in. ‘They were as good as the Ink Spots, honest.’
‘Anyway, we’d already set off before the first sirens so we thought we might as well keep going as turn around and come back. So we did, and for a while there was lots of dancing, but then we all got evacuated and we had to go to one of their big shelters,’ Clarrie went on.
Edith’s eyes widened. ‘Was it very crowded?’
‘Oh, ever so,’ said Clarrie. ‘But I’d met these nice off-duty firemen and they looked after us. They were terribly kind. Shared their flasks of tea and everything. Proper gentlemen, they were.’
Edith nodded. She could imagine that Clarrie had given as good as she got, laughing and flirting with the firemen. When she had first met the redhead, she had feared that she had Harry in her sights. Then she realised that Clarrie just liked to flirt, and that she and Harry were nothing more than old school friends.
‘Then two of them had to go as they were working a late shift,’ Peggy added. ‘There weren’t any bombs near us but they were due to go into the centre of town and so I suppose they would have been in the thick of it. We sat up with the other two and played cards until the all clear. Then they had to go to catch a few hours’ sleep before they were back on duty and so we started walking and managed to get a bus before too long.’
Clarrie grew more sober. ‘The closer we got to home, the worse it got. The buses were diverted; I think a lot of gas pipes were hit, or that’s what people were saying. And there were craters in some roads. Down by the docks is a mess. There were fires everywhere.’
‘Blimey, I’m surprised you didn’t both go straight home,’ Edith said.
Peggy shook her head. ‘We fancied a quick stroll to get some fresh air, only it’s not very fresh, is it? We’d better get back now, though. Pete’s mum will be worried. She was going round to her friends’ last night, but they have a shelter so she should be all right.’
‘We could walk back some of the way with you; that’d make it a round trip for us,’ Alice suggested, and the four of them fell into step, finally parting near Dalston Lane.
Edith shoved her hands into the pockets of her light jacket. ‘Let’s go along here a bit,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to get back too soon before dinner. I’d rather be outside.’ They strolled along the road and then turned into one of the side streets, Edith following a path from earlier in the summer almost without realising it, and Alice happy to stroll along aimlessly. Broken roof tiles littered the pavement and clouds of dust puffed up into the air.
‘How silly of me, I’ve only just realised where I am,’ Edith exclaimed. ‘This is the street that Vinny lived on. Do you remember, that little boy I used to come to treat, when there were all the precautions against spreading infection? I don’t know how his poor mother managed. She had five of them, and she had to keep all his food separate … oh no.’ She came to a halt in front of the house – or rather, where the house had been.
Now there was just a crumbling mass of walls, lopsided window frames hanging in mid-air and lone pieces of furniture marooned on what had been solid floors. A curtain flapped in the light breeze, but everything behind it was burnt and ruined. Edith gasped as she remembered how this had been one of the best-kept houses in the little street, the way Mrs Bell had made the effort to make it clean and tidy, even while looking after five children.
‘This was their home?’ Alice stared at the wreckage, aghast.
An elderly man came across from the opposite pavement. ‘Did you know them?’ he asked, his voice croaky and wheezing. Alice wanted to tell him to save his breath, but shook her head.
‘I did,’ said Edith sadly. ‘Well, Mrs Bell and the two youngest anyway. They were going to move to Northampton, weren’t they?’
The old man nodded. ‘Good job they did. She took the younger kiddies with her but Terry and their eldest stayed behind. Awful business, it is. Terry’s the hardest worker you ever knew and then on top of that he went fire-watching. He was on duty last night, God bless him, then he come home this morning to find his house was gone. His oldest boy was inside, didn’t stand a chance.’
Edith shut her eyes for a moment. ‘Vinny’s big brother was in there, you mean?’
The old man coughed again. ‘Wouldn’t have known anything about it – that’s the only comfort,’ he said. ‘It was a direct hit. Went up in flames at once, it did. He couldn’t have got out of there. Nice lad he was, too. His poor father, he’s almost lost his mind. The warden took him away, I don’t know where he’s gone. There ain’t nothing left for him here, that’s for certain.’
Edith turned to Alice. ‘I can’t take it in. That little boy was so brave and he nearly died of pneumonia – it doesn’t seem fair that they got through that, only to lose their oldest son. It seems so senseless. It could have hit anywhere, but for some reason it landed here … Vinny might be too young to remember his big brother, but his sister will. She always had plenty to say about everything.’
The old man wheezed as he tried to reply. ‘Ain’t the only house that got hit round here but I don’t know the folks in the others. Yes, it’s a crying shame; a fine young lad like that, cut down in his prime. Well, he wasn’t the first and he won’t be the last. Good day to yer, miss.’ He shambled his way back across the road and went into a house very like that of the Bells’ but shabbier.
‘Come on, Edie, we can’t do anything here.’ Alice tucked her arm into her friend’s once more. ‘It’ll be time for dinner soon. You’ve got to keep your strength up. We don’t know what we’ll be called on to do later.’
Edith squared her shoulders. ‘You’re right, of course. Still … no, it’s no good, there’s no sense to it, is there? I’m just grateful that Vinny wasn’t there too. I know it isn’t a matter of things being fair or unfair – but all the same, how unfair it would have been to have survived what he had and then get bombed. At least he’s been spared that.’
Flo leaned on Stan’s broad arm as they walked slowly along Jeeves Street. She was gladder than she ever could have imagined to see her home again. She didn’t like leaving it at the best of times, and only the prospect of visiting Harry had enticed her to go. Now she felt like touching the brickwork to check it was actually still there and all in one piece. The sights they had seen on their much-delayed journey back from Portsmouth had made her fear the worst. As they had approached the East End, the smoke was still rising over it and down towards the docks. Stan’s colleague had laug
hed and joked for most of the way, making light about having to change his route again and again because of the bomb damage, but even he had fallen silent as the realisation of what had happened to the area hit them all.
Yet their worry had been for nothing. Flo pushed open her front door and called out, ‘Mattie! We’re home!’ She had expected her daughter to be anxiously awaiting their return and was a little surprised that she didn’t come running at once. ‘Mattie!’ she called again. The girl might be outside, she reasoned. ‘Sorry we had to stay away overnight!’ she shouted.
There were footsteps on the stairs and then Kathleen appeared, beaming widely. ‘Oh, you’re back! What a relief. We were wondering. How was Harry?’
Flo smiled back. ‘Oh, I’m glad to see you too, Kathleen. It’s good that Mattie hasn’t been here on her own. If you just fetch her I can tell you both all the news. Why don’t I get the kettle on – I’m parched, and how about you, Stan?’
‘A cuppa would be lovely,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong, Kathleen? Is there some kind of trouble with Mattie?’
Flo stopped dead in her tracks. ‘Is she all right?’
Kathleen chuckled. ‘Well, I won’t fetch her just now if you don’t mind. She’s fast asleep upstairs. You might want to come up though. There’s someone there you’ll want to meet.’
Flo stared at her and then her jaw dropped as she cottoned on to what the young woman meant.
‘She’s … she’s …’ Flo turned to her husband, who still had one hand on the front door handle. ‘Stan, I do believe … we’ve missed it, haven’t we? Mattie’s gone and had the baby while we were away.’
‘That’s right.’ Kathleen could not keep the delight form her voice. ‘He’s ever so small but he’s perfect. Come upstairs and meet your new grandson.’
‘A boy!’ Flo breathed, and then she dropped her carpetbag on the worn hallway runner and quickly followed Kathleen up the stairs as if she was young again herself.
Kathleen loaded the old wooden tray with teapot, cups, milk and a small bowl of precious sugar, then carefully carried it up to the family gathered in Mattie’s bedroom. She was glad to be able to help, so that Flo could spend even more time with her new grandchild. Stan’s eyes had lit up when he realised he had a grandson, and Kathleen could see he was bursting with pride as he looked at the swaddled bundle for the first time.
‘Here we are.’ She set the tray down on the dresser, well out of the way of an over-excited Gillian. Mattie was sitting up against her pillows, a crocheted bed jacket thrown around her shoulders, and her son was snuggled against her.
‘Isn’t he good?’ Flo breathed. ‘He barely makes a sound.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, he can when he wants to,’ Mattie assured her mother, eyes dancing brightly. ‘Can’t he, Kath? He knows how to make himself heard.’
‘Can’t think who he takes after,’ Stan said. ‘But I reckon he looks like his dad – he’s got the same round face. Hard to tell about the rest of him yet.’
The proud grandparents leant forward to see the child better, and Gillian scrambled up on the foot of the bed to join in.
Mattie turned the baby a little to make it easier.
‘So, don’t keep us in suspense,’ Flo said. ‘Have you chosen a name for him yet? Did you decide on one ages ago and not tell anybody?’
Mattie glanced up at Kathleen and then at her parents. ‘No, I wanted to wait until I saw him or her and then make up my mind. Lennie always said I could choose; he’d be happy with whatever I liked. I didn’t want a family name as people always feel left out if their names aren’t picked.’ She paused, to draw out the moment. ‘Well, I like Alan. We haven’t got any others in the family; it’ll be a name just for him. Alan Leonard Askew. How about that?’
Flo found her eyes were misting with tears as she reached out and stroked the tiny face, very gently so as not to wake him. ‘Hello, Alan,’ she said. ‘Welcome to the world. We’re going to take the very best care of you so that your daddy will be proud of you when he comes home.’
Stan reached across and squeezed her shoulder, to show that he was feeling the same.
Flo sat back on the bed and gave Gillian a hug so that she wasn’t left out. Despite the horrors of the journey back from the hospital, she was content. It had been hard to see Harry in such a terrible condition, but the doctors had assured them that he was responding to treatment now. When she spoke to him he had reacted, and especially when she had mentioned Edith’s name. She was convinced that not only did he know her voice, and Stan’s, but also that he understood what they were talking about. Somewhere under the bandages, and within the fog of painkillers, the Harry they knew was still very much alive.
Tomorrow she would send a message to Edith to let her know how the visit had gone. Perhaps she would invite Edith and Alice round to thank them for taking such good care of Mattie in her hour of need, when she could have done with a mother’s experience to guide her through. Yet what more could she have asked for than two excellent nurses who were also the best of friends?
Flo took a sip of her tea and looked around at this small group of people crowded into the bedroom. These people were her world. Now that she knew Harry was on the mend she could enjoy every minute of looking after the latest addition to the family, the precious creature who was beginning to stir. Stan had warned her that last night’s raids might be the first of many, but no amount of Luftwaffe bombing would spoil her pleasure at having a grandson. They had a shelter, now tried and tested; they had each other. Whatever the onslaught, they were ready.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Fresh from a last-minute trip to the market, Kathleen laid out her ingredients for a stew. She’d been lucky and caught the butcher just before he shut his stall, and he’d been happy to let her have some offcuts as a bargain. As meat was rationed by price and not weight, that meant she still had enough coupons for later in the week. She would put it in the pot with vegetables and pearl barley and then that would last for two days. Not bad for half an hour’s work, she thought.
She hadn’t been able to go to Ridley Road first thing in the morning because she’d slept in. For the last few nights there had been more bombing raids; the East End was bearing the brunt of the attacks, with many buildings destroyed and much loss of life. It was changing everyone’s daily routine, turning everything they were accustomed to do upside down. Kathleen had been at a loss to know what to do for the best, as there was no room for a shelter in her shared back yard. She couldn’t run around to the Banhams’: they were full to bursting. She supposed she could have asked Mrs Bishop to share her small shelter, but the idea of putting up with the woman’s moaning while trying to quell Brian’s fear was unbearable. Some people declared you were safe on the ground floor of a building, and Kathleen was tempted to believe it; that the Coynes upstairs would cushion the blow if it came. However, she knew that was far from always the case and Billy had often told her not to listen to gossip but to follow the official guidelines. Although she would far rather have stayed in her own home, she could not take the risk with Brian’s safety.
So they had bundled their essentials together in a big bag, Brian wrapped in his new siren suit, and set off for the church one road over, which had a basement and was opening its doors to people with no shelter of their own. In some ways it was comforting to be with others in the same situation. It was noisy and there wasn’t much privacy, but they had gas and running water so the conditions weren’t as bad as in some places. It was easier to hide her fear with other people around, and to persuade Brian that it was a big adventure. She didn’t want him to pick up on her constant alarm until the all clear sounded.
Brian was singing to himself as he tried to build a wall with his wooden bricks, and Kathleen began methodically to slice potatoes. She wished she had an onion to add but they were scarce these days. She lined up her peeler ready to prepare the carrots next, and reached for her heaviest saucepan to brown the meat.
She loved the feeling of b
eing ready to cook her son a good meal. Now that he could eat most things if she cut them up and mashed them, there was great satisfaction in knowing he was well fed. What a change from last year, when it had been an almost impossible job to feed herself, and she had such poor milk for him. He’d been malnourished for his first few months of life and she could never quite forgive herself for that, even if it had not been her fault.
‘You all right over there, Brian?’ she called out, but he simply carried on with his song and collapsing his bricks. Maybe he was not cut out to be a builder, she thought, as she chopped the end off the first carrot. She wondered what he would become. Perhaps an engineer like Joe. It didn’t hurt to dream.
She was lost in her thoughts when the front door handle turned. At first she did not react. Perhaps it was one of the Banhams, or even Billy. Her heart beat a little faster at that. Then a voice that she thought she would never hear again spoke to her.
‘Hello, Kath. Bet you didn’t expect to see me.’
Silhouetted in the light from the open door was the frame of a man: tall, broad, menacing. Kathleen thought she was imagining things. This could not be.
‘I just come to see how you’re doing without me.’
She stared in disbelief. This was all wrong. The man was meant to be dead. She had the telegram, the official letter, the pension. Yet it looked and sounded like him.
‘Ray?’
The man stepped forward. ‘That’s right, Kath. Back from the dead. What’s the matter? You don’t look very pleased to see me.’
‘I don’t … I don’t understand.’
Ray advanced into the little room, needing only a few steps to reach Kathleen at her kitchen counter. ‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’ He laughed but there was no warmth in it. She drew back, confused and also repulsed. He smelt as if he hadn’t washed in a long while. She could see he was dirty, his clothes grimy, dust on his hands and face. This was not the dandy who had used his shallow charms to seduce her years ago. His eyes glittered and she sensed the danger radiating from him. Was he on the run? How could this happen? Then she noticed a detail of his shabby shirt. It was fastened with dark brown buttons, and one was missing. That one she’d found on the floor … he’d been here. She hadn’t imagined being watched. He could have walked in on her at any time. She thought she might be sick.