Courage of the Shipyard Girls

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Courage of the Shipyard Girls Page 37

by Nancy Revell


  ‘Martha can you hear me?’ Rosie squatted down, willing the group’s gentle giant to respond. But there was nothing. She looked out for the count.

  ‘Můj bože!’ Hannah cried out on seeing the huge bloody gash on the back of her friend’s head. She knelt down and put her skinny arms around Martha’s broad shoulders.

  ‘Dorothy! Angie!’ Rosie looked up to see two grey, panic-stricken faces. ‘Get help!’

  The pair immediately turned and started making their way back over the ruins, waving their hands and shouting at a medic tending a girl on a stretcher.

  ‘Gloria’s still in there,’ Polly said to Rosie, staring at the house.

  ‘And Helen,’ Hannah added, looking across at Olly.

  ‘Come on,’ Rosie said, standing up. ‘Before the whole lot comes down!’

  Rosie, Polly and Olly had only managed to take a couple of steps forward when they heard a loud crack, followed by the sound of falling debris.

  Then a huge billow of dirt filled the air and obscured their vision.

  Dr Parker looked around him.

  Still no sign of Helen.

  ‘You’re going to be fine,’ he said to the young girl lying on the stretcher. She was in shock and had some pretty deep cuts that would need a few stitches, but from what he could tell she had escaped serious injury – unlike some of the people he had tended to this past hour.

  He’d heard there were at least a dozen people missing – including an entire family who lived in one of the houses that had been hit. The death toll was going to be heavy, there was no doubt about that. He just begged whatever God might be up there that Gloria and Hope weren’t part of that count.

  ‘All right, lads.’ Dr Parker looked up at the two wardens, who didn’t look much older than the girl on the stretcher. ‘Get her to an ambulance. When she’s at the Royal, tell them to check for any internal injuries. Just in case.’

  ‘Over here!’

  Dr Parker looked up to see two women, both grey from head to foot, waving their arms frantically at him.

  Spotting two medics leaving the back of an ambulance, he signalled for them to follow him before clambering across the rubble to the women.

  ‘Hurry, please! It’s our friend. She’s collapsed,’ one of the young women told him as they hurried towards the half-demolished house.

  Dr Parker realised the two women were taking him to where he had last seen Helen.

  This must be Mrs Crabtree’s house – or rather, what used to be her house.

  ‘Is Gloria all right? And Hope?’ he asked.

  It took Dorothy a second to realise the man they were asking for help was the blond-haired bloke they’d seen with Helen at the yard.

  ‘Hope’s all right,’ Dorothy said.

  ‘But Gloria’s still in there,’ Angie added.

  ‘Do you know where Helen is?’ Dr Parker asked.

  The two women exchanged looks and Dr Parker felt his stomach turn.

  ‘She’s in there as well,’ the women said in unison.

  Dr Parker started to stumble across the debris towards the house just as a cracking noise sounded out through the night air.

  Rosie, Polly and Olly were the nearest to the house.

  Dr Parker was just a few yards behind them.

  And Dorothy and Angie a few yards behind him.

  They stopped in their tracks – helpless to do anything other than watch in horror as Mrs Crabtree’s house creaked into submission and the last remaining ceiling caved in.

  ‘Noooo!’

  Dr Parker’s voice echoed through the cloud of dirt and destruction that had enveloped them.

  Why hadn’t he made her go to the shelter!

  Why had she walked into a bloody death trap?

  But he knew why.

  Hope.

  And Gloria.

  A surreal stillness filled the air as the dusty grey shroud started to disperse.

  He stared ahead, wishing more than anything in the world he could go back in time, wishing he could rewind the events of this evening – wanting more than anything to change destiny.

  Anything to keep his love alive.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  They stood there – all of them.

  All dreading what they would see when the smog lifted. All standing statue-like, not deigning to move as the air slowly started to clear.

  And then the faded outline of two figures appeared. ‘Gloria?’ Rosie said tentatively, not quite believing her eyes.

  ‘Helen!’ Dr Parker shouted out.

  Neither Helen nor Gloria moved – both in total disbelief that they had escaped the deluge of death by seconds.

  Both women were squinting, trying to keep the dust from their eyes.

  Gloria was leaning heavily on Helen, her arm around her neck. Behind them lay a six-foot mound of bricks and mortar, over which lay a huge wooden beam.

  ‘Gloria!’ Rosie yelled again as she rushed forward and grabbed hold of her friend.

  Having been released from Gloria’s weight, Helen suddenly felt her legs go and Polly arrived just in time to catch her.

  ‘Helen! Are you all right?’ Dr Parker reached the woman he loved. ‘Have you any pain anywhere?’ he asked, scrutinising every part of her, looking for signs of any kind of injury.

  Helen shook her head.

  ‘Do you feel wet anywhere?’

  Another shake of the head.

  He turned to the young woman with the long chestnut hair, who he guessed was one of the women welders since she was wearing dark blue overalls scattered with pinhole burns.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

  ‘Polly.’ She put her arm around Helen’s waist to better support her weight. She could feel Helen’s strength ebbing fast.

  ‘Polly, do you think you can manage to get Helen over to one of the ambulances?’

  ‘Yes, no problem,’ Polly said with more confidence than she felt.

  ‘Get the medics to check her over. I’ll be there in a minute.’ He took one last look at Helen before turning to Gloria, who was now being held up by Rosie on one side and Olly on the other.

  This time there was no need to ask any questions as he could see she was injured, and her contorted face told him she was in agony.

  ‘Don’t worry, Gloria, we’ll get you something for that pain in a minute.’

  Dr Parker’s head snapped around.

  ‘Here!’ he shouted over to two ARP wardens.

  As soon as they arrived, they got on either side of Gloria, taking her from Rosie and Olly.

  ‘Give her a shot of morphine as soon as you get her to the ambulance,’ Dr Parker said.

  ‘Hope?’ Gloria managed to spit out her daughter’s name through the pain.

  Dr Parker looked to Rosie for an answer.

  ‘Yes, Glor, she’s fine,’ Rosie reassured. ‘Hope’s fine. Bel’s got her.’

  ‘Martha?’ Gloria said through gritted teeth.

  ‘She’s going to be fine too,’ Rosie said, even though she had no idea if Martha was, in fact, going to be all right.

  Gloria’s body sagged and she let the two strapping young men take her weight.

  ‘Can you go with her, Rosie?’ Dr Parker asked. ‘Shout if you need me.’

  Rosie looked anxiously over at Martha, who was being attended to by two auxiliary army medics. Hannah was by her friend’s side and had been joined by Olly.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll see to Martha,’ Dr Parker told Rosie as he headed over to the woman he had heard so much about from Helen – how she was stronger than most men, and that she had saved one of the workers last year when a metal plate had landed on his leg.

  ‘Hello there, Martha,’ he said, dropping down on his haunches and giving her a quick once-over. ‘I’m Dr Parker. How are you feeling?’

  ‘All right,’ Martha said.

  ‘We’ve got her sitting up,’ one of the medics said, ‘but weren’t sure whether or not to move her.’

  ‘Má strašný střih �
�� cut … na zadní straně hlavy … head.’ Hannah was struggling with her English. The shock had catapulted her back to her native tongue.

  So this was Hannah. The group’s little bird. The one Helen felt the most guilty about.

  ‘Well, let’s have a look,’ he said, gently turning Martha’s head. ‘Cut’ was somewhat of an understatement.

  Signalling for the medic to hand over his khaki bag, Dr Parker found what he needed and started to clean up the gash on Martha’s head as best he could.

  ‘Do you know where you are, Martha?’ he asked, pulling out a bandage from the bag.

  ‘A bomb site. Tatham Street.’

  ‘Can you tell me how you hit your head?’ Dr Parker started carefully wrapping Martha’s head in a bandage, being mindful not to make it too tight.

  ‘I fell backwards.’ She didn’t mention she had hit her head whilst pulling Helen out of the way of a falling beam, and therefore hadn’t been able to break her own fall.

  ‘All right,’ he said, having done what was needed. ‘I think we’ll get you a stretcher and these two medics can get you over to the ambulance.’

  Martha let out a puff of laughter.

  ‘I think I can manage myself.’

  Proving her point, Martha slowly got to her feet, guided by Hannah and Olly.

  ‘See?’ she said.

  Dr Parker smiled.

  Helen hadn’t been exaggerating.

  ‘Is Hope all right?’ Helen asked as Polly helped her over the ruins.

  ‘Yes, she’s fine,’ Polly said. ‘Martha got her out and then Bel took her.’

  ‘Took her where?’ Helen panicked.

  ‘Just off this blasted bomb site.’ Polly forced a laugh. She could see Helen was in shock. Her whole body was trembling, and she was looking about her as though she wasn’t quite sure where she was, which wasn’t really surprising as even she didn’t recognise Tatham Street, and she’d lived here her whole life.

  ‘We’ll see her in a minute,’ Polly reassured her.

  ‘See,’ she pointed over to the ambulance. ‘They’re just over there. The medics’ll be checking her over. Not that there’s anything wrong with her,’ Polly was quick to add, seeing the look of alarm appear on Helen’s face. Polly knew that Helen and Hope were sisters, but she had no idea they had ever met each other – never mind become so close that Helen would risk her life for the little girl. And for Gloria as well.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Polly asked.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. Absolutely fine,’ Helen said as though the question was quite ridiculous.

  ‘That’s good,’ Polly said as they finally reached a part of the road they could actually see. Polly looked at Helen in her ruined red dress, her face smeared in soot, her hair a mess, and thought she looked anything but fine. It was the first time since she had got to know her that Polly had felt even a sliver of compassion for her.

  ‘So, tell me what happened?’ she asked.

  ‘Well,’ Helen started, not knowing where to start. ‘The sirens went off … then the bombs dropped.’

  ‘Didn’t you make it to a shelter?’ Polly asked.

  ‘No, John and I got in an ambulance.’

  Polly guessed John was Dr Parker. There had been speculation at work that the two were courting, but Polly sensed they were just friends.

  ‘Why did you get in the ambulance if the sirens were still going?’ Polly could understand why Dr Parker had done so. It was his job to save lives. But Helen?

  ‘Hope and Gloria,’ Helen said as though it was obvious. ‘I knew they were visiting Mrs Crabtree and that she lived at the bottom of Tatham Street.’

  ‘But the bombs had just dropped,’ Polly said. ‘There might have been more coming …’

  ‘Exactly,’ Helen said, looking ahead, her eyes searching for Hope. ‘I had to make sure Hope was alive. That she was safe.’

  Polly looked at Helen. She was finding it hard to tally the person she was now talking to with the one she had been unable to abide for the past two years.

  ‘But you put yourself in danger – terrible danger – going into that building.’

  Helen looked at Polly, but didn’t say anything.

  It was then that Polly realised that she and Helen weren’t so dissimilar for she would have done exactly the same for Lucille and Bel.

  ‘There she is,’ Helen said, her eyes trained on Hope, who was sitting on Bel’s knee and was being fussed over by a very beautiful woman of mixed race.

  As soon as Hope saw Helen she put her arms out.

  ‘’Elen,’ she cried out.

  Bel looked surprised at seeing Hope’s reaction to a woman she had no idea the little girl had met, never mind formed such an obvious attachment to.

  Bel stood up and took Hope over to Helen.

  ‘Are you all right to take her?’ Bel asked.

  ‘Yes, of course, I’m fine. Thank you, Bel,’ she said as Hope swapped the comfort of her former childminder for that of her big sister.

  ‘How’s my brave little girl?’ Helen inspected Hope. It was only now, seeing Hope with her own eyes, that Helen felt reassured that she was, indeed, safe and well.

  Bel touched Polly’s arm.

  ‘I’m going to nip back to the Tatham with Maisie and tell them that everyone’s all right.’

  Helen looked up. So the coloured woman was Bel’s sister. ‘Good idea.’ Polly smiled.

  Seeing Gloria, Helen hurried over to her friend, whose feet were barely touching the ground thanks to the two medics on either side of her.

  ‘Give your mammy a quick kiss,’ Helen told Hope as she lifted her towards Gloria.

  Hope clasped her mother’s face in her pudgy hands and gave her a kiss.

  ‘Let’s get her sat down,’ one of the medics said, looking around.

  ‘Here!’ Dorothy shouted out. She was carrying a dining-room chair from one of the nearby houses. Behind her was Angie with a stool.

  Patting the chair, Dorothy looked at the medics and flashed them both a smile.

  ‘There we are,’ she said, shooting Angie a look, ‘if you can both just lower Gloria down.’ The two young men did as they were told while Angie put the stool in front of the chair.

  Gloria tried unsuccessfully not to grimace in pain. Every part of her body felt as though it had been battered.

  ‘Eee, I could get used to this,’ she said through gritted teeth as one of the medics started to tend the wound on her leg, and the other rolled up Gloria’s sleeve to give her a shot of morphine.

  Polly looked at Helen and thought she appeared unnaturally pale. She was also shaking badly.

  ‘Come on, Helen, let’s sit down here,’ she said, guiding her by the elbow to the back of the St John’s ambulance.

  Helen sat down with Hope still clinging to her like a baby koala bear.

  ‘Look!’ Angie pointed to the ground by Helen’s feet.

  They all stared at the sudden appearance of a ginger tabby that had started to weave between Helen’s legs.

  ‘Well, I never,’ Gloria said, amazed not just by the cat, but by the fact that she was already starting to feel the instant effects of the morphine.

  ‘Pussy!’ Hope stretched her arm out in an effort to stroke the cat.

  Helen looked at Gloria.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her face now deadly serious. ‘We found Mrs Crabtree in the lounge.’ Helen shook her head, not wanting to say the words.

  ‘She didn’t make it?’ Gloria said.

  Helen shook her head again.

  Gloria looked at the cat, now settling itself at Helen’s feet.

  ‘She might have done were it not for that damned cat.’

  As Martha, Hannah and Olly slowly made their way across the rubble, they were closely followed by Dr Parker, who was purposely lagging behind to keep an eye on Martha, unsure as to whether she was as with it as she purported to be. It was only when they neared the ambulance that he saw Helen. Hope was cuddled up on her lap – and was that a ginger
cat at her feet? Polly was sitting next to her on the back step of the ambulance, and Gloria was resting on a chair next to them, her injured leg raised on a stool.

  Standing around them were Rosie, Dorothy and Angie.

  ‘Martha!’ Dorothy screeched on seeing them approach. She flung herself at her friend and gave her a hug.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Polly asked. ‘God, you went down like a bag of hammers.’

  Martha nodded.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Rosie held her by her shoulders and inspected her for a moment before embracing her.

  ‘Eee, Martha, yer really are a proper hero!’ Angie said. ‘She certainly is!’ Gloria said. ‘Come here!’ She beckoned her workmate over to where she was sitting. The medic stood up, having finished bandaging her leg.

  Going over to her friend, Martha bent over her and hugged her hard.

  ‘I can’t thank yer enough,’ Gloria said, looking at Martha as she straightened up. Tears were rolling down Gloria’s face. ‘I really thought me ’n Hope were gonna die in there. You really are one very brave woman.’

  Martha looked at Gloria and then at Helen. She looked exhausted, and even though her face was smeared with dirt, Martha could still see she was ghostly white.

  ‘Actually,’ Martha said, looking at the woman about whom they never had a good word to say, ‘it’s Helen who was the brave one.’

  Helen looked up as Martha spoke.

  ‘It was Helen who went searching for Hope and Gloria,’ Martha continued, ‘who went into the house even though you could see it was just about to collapse.’ Martha’s eyes fell momentarily onto the little girl who had miraculously escaped unscathed and was now playing with her sister’s black hair without a care in the world.

  ‘It was Helen who got Hope and made me leave with her, and who stayed to help Gloria even though there was a good chance she’d get buried alive.’

  Helen was looking at Martha. Tears had started to sting her eyes. She felt Gloria reach out and take hold of her hand.

  Rosie, Polly, Dorothy, Angie, Hannah and Olly looked at Helen, realising that if it hadn’t been for her, they would have been pulling the body of their beloved workmate from under a mound of rubble, and there’d have been a good chance that Hope’s lifeless body would have been found next to her.

 

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