by Nancy Revell
‘Actually,’ Helen said, as though they were talking about something as mundane as the weather, ‘just so you know, I want to be the one to tell Dad that he’s going to be a grand-parent. If you tell him, rest assured he will know all about your ruse with his letters, and the real reason you had a postbox put at the front door.’
Miriam looked gobsmacked.
‘Yes, Mother, I know all about it.’
Helen stood up.
‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve somewhere I’ve got to be this evening.’
Helen walked to the kitchen door and turned around. ‘Honestly, Mum, I’d try some of that pie if I were you. It really is rather delicious.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Tatham Arms
Saturday 15 August
‘Happy Birthday!’ Dorothy raised her glass of port and lemonade up to the yellow, tar-stained ceiling of the Tatham. ‘To two very special girls – my gorgeous goddaughter, Hope, and to Bel’s equally gorgeous daughter, Lucille.’
‘Hear, hear!’ There was a general rumpus of agreement, and everyone took a sip of their drink.
‘Thanks, everyone,’ Bel said, looking around at Polly, Martha, Hannah, Dorothy and Angie, all standing at the end of the bar. They hadn’t been able to get a table as it was Saturday night and the pub was heaving.
‘Where’s Joe?’ Martha asked.
‘He kindly offered to stay behind and clear up the debris,’ Bel said.
‘Eee, that’s nice,’ Angie said. ‘Not many men would dee that.’
Bel chuckled. ‘I think it might have been more a case of him not wanting to come out for a drink with a gaggle of gossiping women.’
‘It’s a shame Gloria couldn’t come to the pub with us, though,’ Dorothy said.
‘I know,’ Bel agreed. ‘But I think she was glad of the excuse to get Hope home. I don’t know who looked more tired.’ They had all done a half shift at the yard, with Gloria at the helm, before hurrying back home, getting changed and going round to help out at Lucille’s and Hope’s joint celebration.
‘Gloria’s always shattered whenever she has to cover for Rosie,’ Polly said. ‘I think it takes it out of her more than she lets on.’
‘I’d hate to be in charge, even for just a day,’ Angie declared.
‘I think I’d love it,’ Dorothy countered. ‘It’d be great being able to boss everyone around.’
Martha guffawed. ‘You do that anyway.’
Hannah chuckled. ‘Martha’s right, Dorothy, you are …
what’s that expression?’ She thought for a moment. ‘That’s it, you’re a “reet auld bossyboots”.’
Everyone laughed, apart from Dorothy, who had adopted an expression of deep hurt, even though she was really loving being the centre of attention.
‘I don’t know how you manage to live with her.’ Polly looked at Angie.
‘Me neither!’ Angie let out a loud laugh.
There was a moment’s quiet.
‘Did Maisie not pop in today?’ Polly asked Bel.
‘No way. She may love Lucille, but she’s not a great fan of children in general. Not exactly maternal, our Maisie. She’s going to treat Lucille to a trip to the pictures to see this new Walt Disney film called Bambi tomorrow.’
‘That’s nice,’ Hannah said.
Bel chuckled.
‘I don’t think she realises that the cinema is going to be filled with a load of screaming, bawling, excited children and their overworked mams. I thought I’d let her find out for herself, but I’ll bet my week’s wages she doesn’t offer to take LuLu to the midday matinee ever again.’ Everyone laughed, knowing that Maisie was in for a shock.
‘All right, my round,’ Bel said. ‘My way of saying thank you for helping out today, especially Angie here, who seems to have a natural ability to keep a roomful of children under control – and entertained.’
‘I’m used to it,’ she blushed. ‘Being brought up with my lot.’
‘You know what,’ Polly said, ‘it occurred to me during a rather raucous game of pass the parcel – ’ everyone groaned as there had been a small altercation between two of the partygoers as to who had been holding the parcel when the music stopped ‘– that it’s now two years since we all started at the yard.’
‘God, I can’t believe it’s been that long,’ Dorothy said. ‘Mind you, sometimes it feels more like twenty than two.’
‘So much has happened in that time, hasn’t it?’ Martha said.
As Bel handed out everyone’s drinks, they chatted away, reminiscing about the past couple of years. They all ribbed Martha about how she never used to speak, and how Hannah had only been able to speak pidgin English, but now could speak like an honorary north-easterner if she wanted to. How Dorothy had been the trainee welder that Rosie had thought wouldn’t last the course, but who had ended up being the best and the fastest in their squad; and how it was due to Polly’s love affair with Tommy that they had all suffered the wrath of Helen, who had then tried to split up their squad.
At the mention of Tommy, they all looked at Polly, but it was Hannah who plucked up the courage to say what they were all thinking.
‘You know we’re still keeping our fingers crossed for Tommy, don’t you, Polly?’ Polly nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
‘You don’t mind us mentioning him, do you?’ Martha said.
Everyone looked at Polly, who was shaking her head vehemently.
‘No, not at all, far from it,’ she said. Her voice was shaking a little. ‘It’s nice. I like it. I like talking about him.’
Bel looked at her sister-in-law and knew this to be true. She had often come into the kitchen to hear Arthur and Polly chatting about the man they both loved. Sometimes she caught little snippets the old man was telling Polly about Tommy when he was young; other times Polly would be telling the old man something that Tommy had done at work, or had said in one of his old letters to her.
‘I still have hope,’ Hannah said, giving Polly a hug. Polly returned her embrace, forcing back tears.
They were all quiet for a moment, before Polly took a deep breath, forcing herself to perk up and break the sombre mood.
‘So, without wanting to sound like Dorothy’s double, have you all heard the latest about Alfie?’
Everyone let out whoops of excitement and demanded more information.
‘Well,’ Polly said, looking round at her workmates, ‘it looks like he’s really sweet on Kate.’
‘Really!’ the women all exclaimed in unison.
Dorothy gasped dramatically in disbelief.
Polly looked at Bel for permission to repeat what she’d told her. She nodded, quietly over the moon to see Polly being frivolous. Even if she knew it was a bit of an act.
‘Well, from what Maisie’s said, it looks like love-struck Alfie is probably ripping his clothes on purpose, just to have something for Kate to fix. And, of course, Kate being Kate, she’s clueless as to the real reason Alfie has suddenly become her most regular customer.’
There were lots of questions, and laughter, and light-hearted banter.
When they had all exhausted the topic, Polly dropped her voice and said to Bel, ‘It’s a bit like your ma.’ She cocked her head in the direction of the bar. Everyone looked over to see Bill, who was standing next to Pearl helping her with a particularly large round of drinks, and Ronald, on the other side of the bar, clearly vying for her attention.
‘You’ve noticed too then?’ Bel asked quietly.
Dorothy couldn’t contain herself. ‘You’d have to be daft or blind not to notice.’
Bel chuckled.
‘Well, my ma isn’t blind, she never misses a trick, but I think she is a bit daft when it comes to them two Romeos.’
The women chortled.
‘And talking about Romeos,’ Dorothy looked at Hannah, ‘how are you and young Olly getting along?’
They all looked at their ‘little bird’, who was taking a nervous sip of her orange juice
.
‘Well, actually, Olly’s asked me if I would stop calling him my friend boy and instead refer to him as my boyfriend.’
The women all let out loud exclamations of shock and excitement.
‘So, yer now like a proper courting couple?’ Angie asked. ‘Yes.’ Hannah had gone bright red. ‘I guess that’s what you could say … that we are now courting.’
‘Will we all be needing to gan out ’n buy ourselves hats soon?’ Angie nudged Hannah, who rolled her big brown eyes to the ceiling.
‘Nooo. We’re just courting. That’s all.’
*
‘Yer can come out now, Arthur, the coast is clear.’ Joe was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning heavily on his stick. His gammy leg was giving him gyp, which was nothing new.
As Joe turned back, he heard Arthur’s bedroom door creak open, and the sound of the old man shuffling down the hallway in his slippers. Arthur raised a bottle of Scotch in the air as he came into the kitchen, spying Joe.
‘I think we deserve a bit o’ this after today,’ he chuckled. ‘Too right,’ Joe agreed, abandoning the kettle he was filling and getting two tumblers instead.
The two men sat down and Arthur poured a good measure into each glass.
‘To Lucille and Hope. May they grow up in a land that is free,’ Arthur said, raising his glass.
‘I’ll toast to that,’ Joe agreed, his face suddenly serious, as they both savoured their drinks as well as the quietness that had finally descended on the house.
‘How’s Major Black ’n yer unit?’ Arthur asked. He didn’t often get the chance to chat to Joe on his own, especially about the war and what Joe was doing with the Home Guard.
‘They’re both good. We’re all doing the best we can, all things considered.’ Joe’s hand automatically went to his bad leg. ‘Reckon we’d put up a good fight if need be.’ Joe smiled, but Arthur knew he’d have given anything to be back on the front line, risking life and his other limbs for his country.
‘What’s been in the news today?’ Joe asked, taking another nip of whisky and stretching his leg out under the table. ‘I haven’t had a chance to even glance at a paper today, never mind listen to the radio.’ He smiled. ‘Bel forbade any kind of war talk. Said today had to be one of celebration.’
‘I can understand her for saying that. Yer don’t think she minded me just sneaking off there, do yer?’
Joe laughed out loud. ‘Course not!’
Arthur pushed himself out of the chair. ‘Let me get the Echo.’
Two minutes later he had reappeared with a copy of the town’s local newspaper. He settled back down. Licking his finger and thumb, he brushed through the first couple of pages.
‘More on the Japs and the Yanks … Looks like the Japs have now got Burma totally under their control.’ Arthur knew Joe’s primary interest was North Africa and any news about the Eighth Army, in which he had served along with his twin brother, Teddy.
‘There’s lots of talk about this new general … General Bernard Montgomery … I think Churchill wants to see more offensive action out there,’ Arthur said, his eyes scanning down the article.
‘And I agree with him.’ Joe had been devastated when Tobruk, a port city in Libya, had been captured by Rommel’s Panzer Army Africa.
‘I miss Teddy,’ Joe said suddenly.
Arthur nodded, but didn’t say anything. He knew from what Agnes had told him that Joe and Teddy had been very close, which wasn’t surprising as they were twins after all.
‘Sometimes Lucille will just pull an expression or say something and I see Teddy – as clear as day … I still get so angry,’ Joe said, rotating the tumbler of whisky on the kitchen table. ‘So angry that all this death and destruction is because of one man.’
‘And those that support him,’ Arthur added.
‘Aye,’ Joe conceded. ‘I just need us to hold North Africa.’ ‘Because it’ll feel like Teddy’s death wasn’t in vain?’
Arthur surmised.
‘Exactly,’ Joe said, glad of the understanding.
‘Well,’ Arthur said, ‘I reckon you may well get yer wish.’ ‘Do yer reckon? It’s not been looking good so far.’
‘Aye, but I think it’ll turn. I think this Montgomery bloke will help our boys take back El Alamein. I think they might well beat Rommel.’
‘I hope yer right, I really do.’
The two men were quiet once more, both lost in their own thoughts.
‘I thought our Pol might have heard something about Tommy by now,’ Joe said.
‘Aye.’ Arthur’s voice was sad. ‘I did too. I think if he was POW we’d know by now. Same as if he’d been injured.’
‘You never know,’ Joe said, trying to sound optimistic. Arthur nodded, even though he knew that Joe, like himself, did not hold any real hope of Tommy’s return.
‘I heard Bel chatting in the office about Lucille’s and Hope’s birthday party,’ Helen said as she bustled into Gloria’s flat, dumping her gas mask and handbag on the floor. ‘And how they were all planning on going for a drink afterwards. I guessed you wouldn’t be going because of Hope.’
‘Well, I’m so glad yer came.’ Gloria gave Helen a quick hug. ‘Come on, sit down, ’n I’ll make us a brew.’
Helen lifted up Hope’s present for Gloria to see. ‘Can I give this to Hope? I won’t disturb her if she’s asleep.’
‘Course yer can,’ Gloria said, bustling into the kitchen to make the tea.
A few minutes later Helen appeared at the kitchen doorway with Hope on her hip wearing her new pink sun hat.
‘Oh, that’s adorable, Helen!’ Gloria looked at her daughter, who was smiling up at her big sister. ‘Eee, she’s been thoroughly spoilt today,’ she said, putting the teapot, cups and saucers on the tray.
Helen moved to let her through to the living room. ‘Isn’t it strange? I remember this time last year hearing that you’d given birth in the middle of the shipyard.’
‘And in the middle of an air raid!’ Gloria laughed. ‘God,’ Helen looked at Hope, ‘what a way to come into the world.’ She paused. ‘I didn’t really think much about it at the time, but that must have been terrifying for you.’
‘It was,’ Gloria conceded, ‘but it’s funny, I didn’t feel that scared. For starters it all happened so quickly, much quicker than when I had the boys, but also I had everyone there – Rosie, Polly, Martha, Hannah, Dorothy and Angie.’ Gloria smiled to herself at the memory. ‘They were running around like nutters. I still can’t believe it was Dorothy who actually delivered Hope.’
Gloria put the tray down on the coffee table and started pouring the tea. Helen sat down in the armchair with Hope on her lap making sing-song noises and playing happily with Helen’s hair.
‘It must be nice,’ Helen said, a sadness creeping into her voice, ‘to have such good friends. I mean, they could have just run off and left you when the sirens went off. But they actually risked their own lives to save you and Hope.’
‘Yes, they’re a good bunch. Very loyal.’ Gloria looked at Helen and for the first time realised just how lonely she was. ‘But, enough about me and Hope,’ she said, her voice becoming serious. ‘I want to hear about you. I have to admit, I’ve been a bit worried.’
‘I know,’ Helen said. ‘Or rather, I should say that I thought you might be. I’ve called round a couple of times but you either weren’t in or already had guests.’
‘Dorothy and Angie,’ Gloria said, taking a sip of her tea. ‘They mentioned they had seen you. Angie even joked that for a mad moment she thought you were coming here … But anyway, how are you feeling? Gloria looked at Helen and thought she looked surprisingly well. Much better than she had anticipated.
‘I’m feeling good,’ Helen said, the beginnings of a smile on her face. ‘Really well, actually.’
‘So,’ Gloria asked, a slight frown appearing on her brow, ‘how did it all go?’
Helen paused and adjusted Hope’s hat, before looking back at Gloria.
‘Well, I can’t answer that really – because … Actually … I didn’t go ahead with it!’
Gloria stared at Helen.
‘What?’
‘I didn’t get it done! I was all ready and waiting, literally just about to go into theatre, and I realised I couldn’t go through with it.’
‘Oh my goodness!’ Gloria said. ‘That’s wonderful news. Really, really wonderful!’
‘So,’ Helen said, glancing down at Hope, who was gurgling away, looking at her mammy one moment and her sister the next, ‘looks like this one here is going to have a new playmate.’
Gloria couldn’t restrain herself any longer. She got up from the sofa and clasped her hands around Helen’s very beautiful face, and kissed her on the forehead.
‘I’m over the moon. Congratulations!’
Tears came into Helen’s eyes, which she fought to stop. She wanted to tell Gloria that she was the first person to congratulate her, but she didn’t trust herself not to start sobbing.
Later that night, when Helen was lying awake in bed, her mind drifted back to the first time she had gone to see Gloria the day she had found out she was pregnant. Gloria had spoken words to her that she’d hoped to have heard from her own mother – not someone she barely knew – reassuring her that everything would be all right, that sometimes life takes an unexpected turn, but she’d deal with it.
‘You’re strong and you’re brave,’ Gloria had told her, reminding Helen of how she had saved Gloria from Vinnie – whacking him over the head with a shovel. ‘You’ll manage.’
Helen had replayed Gloria’s words more than once, telling herself that it was true – she would manage, and that the time had come for her to be brave again, only this time in a very different way.
Having written her letter to Tommy, something she was now in the habit of doing every night, Polly thought about her workmates’ excited chatter from earlier on in the evening. Their energy and life were like a breath of fresh air. She wondered how she’d cope without them. Hearing about the blossoming romance between Hannah and Olly – and perhaps also between Alfie and Kate – had taken Polly back to the beginnings of her own love affair with Tommy, how exciting it had been, how passionate their feelings were for each other …