The War Girls

by Rosie James

  ‘Hello there,’ she said. ‘Look, I know we are a bit busy this morning but there’s a nice little table for two over here.’ She led Abigail and Emily across the room and pulled out two chairs.

  ‘Oh – thank you so much,’ Abigail said, warming at once to their surroundings. The taxi driver had been right; this was a lovely, welcoming place, and the smell of frying food and hot coffee made her mouth water. She hesitated. ‘Are you Janet?’ she asked diffidently. ‘Our taxi driver recommended your café as the place to enjoy our breakfast.’

  Janet smiled down at them. ‘Yes, I’m Janet,’ she said, ‘and it’s always nice to welcome new customers to Robertson’s.’

  Having seen them come in, she now studied them with polite interest, the dear little girl and her beautiful young mother, whose unusual footwear – a pair of solid country clogs – had made Janet look up. Those clogs had certainly announced their arrival.

  ‘What can I get you?’ she asked. ‘There’s always a full English breakfast, or something simpler if you prefer … boiled eggs, toast and marmalade? Shall I go away for a minute while you make up your minds?’

  Emily, who’d been taking in their surroundings with her usual intense curiosity, spoke up.

  ‘Please can I have chips?’ she said. ‘With salt to dip in?’

  Abigail touched her arm. ‘No, Emily – chips aren’t usually served for breakfast. Why don’t you have an egg and some fried bread instead?’

  Emily’s face crumpled. ‘But you promised I could have chips today, Mummy,’ she said. ‘Please, Mummy. You promised!’

  Janet spoke up. ‘I don’t think there’d be any problem in making a few chips,’ she said brightly, ‘because my two helpers, Pat and Fay, who are doing all the cooking out at the back are used to unusual requests. So – Emily – is it just chips you want, or an egg as well?’

  Emily immediately cheered up. ‘Just chips, please … with salt?’

  ‘And what would Mummy like?’ Janet said.

  ‘A poached egg on toast and a pot of tea, please,’ Abigail said, ‘and a glass of milk for Emily?’

  Janet did a mock salute. ‘Order coming up in five or six minutes,’ she said, pausing briefly as she paused to ruffle Emily’s hair and whisper, ‘Don’t tell anyone about the chips or they will all want some!’

  The food was absolutely wonderful, and as Abigail sipped at her tea, she sat back feeling at peace with the world, even though she still had so much to do before she could start to relax.

  Janet, with her own cup of tea in her hands, returned to their table and pulled up another chair to sit with them. By this time, most of the customers were beginning to leave, and Janet Robertson admitted to being curious about the newcomers. ‘Do you live in the town?’ she said. ‘Or are you from outside?’

  ‘My name is Abigail Wilson, and we only arrived yesterday,’ Abigail said. ‘You see, we are hoping to make our home in Bristol … we’ve been told what a nice place it is. But we’ve only ever lived in the country – deepest, darkest Somerset! – so we have a lot to learn. Don’t we, Emily?’

  Emily had been watching the two young employees putting things away and cleaning the counter, and she looked at Janet. ‘Can I go and help?’ she said.

  ‘Emily is used to doing things around the house,’ Abigail explained, ‘and is never happier than when she is occupied.’

  Janet smiled broadly, moving aside for Emily to leave the table. ‘Pat and Fay will be delighted to let you share their duties,’ Janet said, ‘and so will I! You can drop by at any time and help. I’m sure we can find you a little apron, Emily!’

  Abigail looked at Janet gratefully. ‘Emily can’t sit still for very long,’ she said.

  There was a moment’s pause before Janet asked tentatively, ‘So … you are here alone, Abigail? Just the two of you, I mean?’

  ‘Yes,’ Abigail said carefully, ‘because my … husband … has had to go away and I’m not sure how long for.’ Her own words made Abigail colour up because she was not used to telling lies, and that pathetic curtain ring on her finger had been the first one, the first deception. How many more was she going to have to tell now that she’d started? But it was all for her protection, she reassured herself, hers and Emily’s. She’d never dreamed that she was going to have to resort to this. All she’d ever wanted was for her and Emily to be free, and to live lives of their own choosing.

  Janet nodded sympathetically, obviously assuming that the war was the reason for this young woman’s husband being absent.

  ‘Who ever would have thought that we were going to be at war again, so soon after the last hideous one,’ Janet said. ‘It beggars belief – and of course conscription is in full swing, all young men having to go and do their duty.’ She pursed her lips. ‘One of my best friends is in a similar position to you, though he was already a serving officer in the Somerset Light Infantry so he would obviously have been one of the first to go. He’s always being sent off somewhere for yet more and more training, and never knows when he’s going to have leave.’

  Abigail looked away for a second, ashamed at pretending to be married. So, Aunt Edna had been right about the possibility of war, though she, Abigail, hadn’t known much about the facts – which was why she’d shrugged off Edna’s warning.

  ‘How lovely to have a best friend,’ Abigail said, wanting to switch the conversation on to more comfortable waters.

  ‘Yes – and I have two,’ Janet said happily. ‘Eileen and Carrie. Carrie is the one with the soldier boyfriend who she doesn’t see so much of now.’ Janet finished her cup of tea before adding, ‘Eileen and Carrie both work here in the town and they often pop in for a coffee or a quick meal – or just for a bit of a gossip, which we are all very good at!’

  Two best friends, Abigail thought briefly. Well, hadn’t Luke said that she would have friends, real friends, one day? Perhaps Bristol was the place to be to have that sort of luck …

  Just then, Emily returned all smiles. ‘I finished wiping the cups and saucers,’ she said triumphantly, ‘and Pat said I did it very well!’

  ‘Well, maybe next time you come in we can find you even more things to do,’ Janet said, ‘because we’re often short of help at busy times.’

  Abigail looked at Janet quickly, instinctively feeling that the owner of this café was someone she could talk to with confidence. ‘As a matter of fact,’ Abigail said, ‘I shall be looking for work myself in a week or so … after I’ve found us somewhere to live. And I would be happy to help you out – I can turn my hand to almost anything on the domestic front,’ she added.

  Janet raised her eyes. ‘You mean you’ve nowhere to stay?’ she said, unable to hide her surprise. Who came to a strange city with a tiny child and nowhere to stay?

  ‘Not yet,’ Abigail replied, ‘but there shouldn’t be too much difficulty, should there? We only need one nice room, and I have … I have the money to pay for it,’ she added.

  Janet stood up. ‘Well, there’s a very reliable estate agency a short walk away from here at the end of Clare Street – just off the Centre over there,’ she said. ‘They might have something which could be suitable.’

  Abigail stood as well, taking out her purse. ‘Breakfast was lovely, Janet – how much do I owe you?’

  After the bill had been paid, Janet saw them to the door and suddenly Abigail hesitated. She turned to Janet.

  ‘You will think me very naive,’ she said, ‘but I need a little advice.’

  Janet smiled. ‘Of course. What can I do to help?’

  ‘It’s just that … most of the money I own is actually in sovereigns,’ she said, ‘and I realise that shops don’t accept them … do they?’

  ‘Lucky you to have sovereigns!’ Janet said, ‘I have just one which I keep with my other little treasures. But there won’t be any problem if you take them to the General Post Office, which is a ten-minute walk away from here. I’m sure they will exchange them for pounds, shillings and pence. And then away you go to spend the lot!�
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  Abigail nodded, smiling. ‘Yes – and I think we are going to need to, because we didn’t bring many clothes with us. But of course, as I don’t know Bristol, I have no idea about where the suitable shops are,’ she added.

  Janet folded her arms. ‘I can tell you exactly where you will find everything you need – for both of you,’ she said firmly. ‘Baker Baker at the bottom of Park Street – just round the corner – they cater for every age group so you wouldn’t need to go traipsing all over the place and tiring yourselves out. Everything you might need is all there under one roof.’ She paused for a moment, glancing at Emily. ‘They also sell prams and small pushchairs,’ she added, ‘and I think that if you are going to be doing a lot of walking in the next few days, Emily might be glad of a lift.’

  Abigail nodded quickly. At Coopers, Emily had only ever been pushed around in the hand cart which years ago Arnold had made to bring up the vegetables from the field. A proper pushchair for Emily would be a real treat.

  Emily, who’d been taking all this in, said, ‘I shan’t want a lift. But dolly might.’

  ‘I love your little dolly,’ Janet said, ‘and she looks so sweet sitting in the pocket of your dress, Emily.’

  ‘That’s where she lives,’ Emily said.

  They turned to leave, and Abigail said, ‘Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how good it’s been to meet you and to enjoy your lovely food – and your wise words.’

  ‘The pleasure has been mine, Abigail,’ Janet said, ‘and I hope we see you again here as soon as you’re ready to help me out here. I’ll make absolutely sure we have a little apron all ready for Emily!’

  Chapter 7

  Leaving Robertson’s and following Janet’s instructions, Abigail and Emily began to make their way up the hill towards Baker Baker.

  ‘I like Janet,’ Emily said, skipping happily alongside Abigail. ‘And I like Pat and Fay. They said they wished they had a dolly like mine.’

  ‘Yes, we’re lucky to have gone to Janet’s café, aren’t we?’ Abigail said. ‘Were the chips nice?’ But she needn’t have asked because Emily hadn’t left a single one on her plate.

  It really was a lovely warm day and Abigail was filled with a huge sense of optimism. How different she had felt last night! But today it seemed that luck was on their side, and soon she was going to buy herself and Emily a new dress and cardigan, and new shoes. New shoes at last! But she’d have to be careful to study the price of everything first … though Abigail felt sure she had enough of Dada’s money until she was able to swap those sovereigns.

  Presently, carrying a bag holding the few items they’d bought, and with both of them wearing new shoes – Abigail’s being a pair of sling-back, cream, open-toe sandals, and Emily’s white canvas daps with tiny silver buckles at each side – they made their way back down the hill towards the estate agent’s office that Janet had told them about.

  They had also bought a small pushchair which Emily refused to sit in, but which she had soon found out how to manoeuvre along the pavements and over kerbs.

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to have a ride, Emily?’ Abigail asked, wishing they could walk a little faster. ‘I’m sure dolly would love to have one.’

  That made all the difference, and Emily immediately climbed in to the pushchair and leaned her head back. Abigail thought what a piece of luck they’d had in meeting Janet Robertson. The pushchair had been her idea and it was obvious that it was going to be put to full use in the coming days as they walked about discovering Bristol, their new home. Their new home! It was hard to believe that they were actually here in this busy city, the streets noisy with Saturday morning traffic weaving its way in every direction, and with crowds of people all walking or strolling along, free to come and go as they pleased. Abigail couldn’t help a smile forming on her lips because they were free, too. She and Emily were no longer trapped and could do exactly as they liked without Aunt Edna’s demanding voice constantly in their ears. This was what Abigail had dreamed about for so long, and now it was reality, and with childlike trust, Emily had accepted everything without complaint.

  And what would Luke think of her great escape? Abigail wondered. Well, he probably wouldn’t be all that surprised because she had promised him that one day, she would leave Coopers, and never go back. But what he would be surprised about was the presence of a little daughter he knew nothing of. Tears immediately sprang to Abigail’s eyes. It would be wonderful if things were different and he was with them now, together, as a family.

  Abigail lifted her head, annoyed with herself. She hadn’t seen Luke, nor heard a thing about him, since that afternoon in the summer house, and it was known that the Jordans no longer lived at Mulberry Court. So by now he would be well on with his studies, achieving everything expected of him and would probably have had no time to give a single thought to her.

  Now, they arrived at the estate agent’s office and stopped to look in the window. There were lots of advertisements displaying properties to buy or to rent, and Abigail bit her lip as she stared. The prices quoted seemed rather high to her. And exactly how much money were they going to eventually exchange for those sovereigns? Was it going to be enough?

  Just then, a man emerged from the agent’s office and looked down at Abigail. He’d seen her looking in. He smiled. ‘Good morning – or should I say good afternoon because it’s past noon now! Can I help you with anything today?’

  Abigail smiled back. ‘Well, um, I am … my name is … is Mrs Wilson … and my daughter and I have only just arrived in Bristol and have nowhere to stay. I’ve no idea where to start looking for accommodation.’

  ‘Well,’ the man said, ‘come inside and let’s see if anything on our books appeals to you.’ He paused. ‘Is it a house, or a flat that you have in mind? Are there, um … are there just the two of you … Mrs Wilson?’ He raised one eyebrow quizzically as he gazed at Abigail.

  ‘Yes,’ Abigail said firmly, ‘it’s just Emily and me. Our needs are few and we would only want one bedroom … with suitable facilities as well, of course.’

  The tone of her voice implied that she had a mind of her own, and the man immediately began thumbing through his large book.

  ‘I gather there was nothing in the window that appealed to you,’ he said, ‘but we do have one or two that might be suitable … ah, yes … this one in Stapleton Road is a one-bed. It’s on the ground floor of a terraced block but …’ He glanced at Emily who was sitting quietly staring at everything around her. ‘But it is on the main road and would be rather noisy, especially during busy times of the day … and night. But it does have the one bedroom you require, and you would share bathroom and kitchen with the tenants upstairs.’

  ‘And where is Stapleton Road?’ Abigail asked, feeling that she should show some interest even though she didn’t like the sound of that noisy place. They’d never even heard one car hoot outside Coopers. Still, she and Emily were going to have to be prepared for changes of all sorts, that was obvious.

  ‘Oh, some way from here … a bus ride or so,’ the man said.

  Abigail let a moment pass. ‘I would really prefer something central if possible,’ she said.

  The man pursed his lips as he turned the pages. He had to be honest, they didn’t have much to offer this unusual customer and the only other one-bedroom places were in St. Philip’s and Horfield. Hardly the central locations the lady had requested. Then suddenly he remembered! There was the one that only came in yesterday. It wasn’t even in the book yet. He turned to Abigail.

  ‘Well, I might have something after all,’ he said, beginning to cheer up. For some reason he hadn’t held out much hope with this customer and it was past his lunch time. ‘It may be just what you’re looking for,’ he went on. ‘One bedroom with shared facilities at number fourteen Redcliffe Way which is as central as you’re ever going to get. And right next to Queen Square – or nearly so – which is a lovely open space. And the property is easy walking distance from the Centre,’ he added trium
phantly. ‘From here, you could get there in ten minutes.’

  This sounded more like it, but Abigail needed to know a little more. ‘So – who would we be sharing with?’ she asked tentatively.

  ‘Oh, it’s a very simple arrangement,’ the man said. ‘The owner of the house is a Miss Grant who lives there alone. You would be sharing her facilities, obviously.’ He paused for a second. ‘The only thing is the room is on a rather short lease … three months, actually … but you never know I’m sure that could be extended. If all went well.’

  Abigail thought quickly. A three-month arrangement might be perfect because if she and Emily weren’t happy there, they wouldn’t have to put up with it for long. ‘When could we go and meet Miss Grant?’ Abigail said. ‘It is a matter of urgency because, as I’ve already said, we have nowhere to stay tonight.’

  The man nodded. ‘Miss Grant informed us that she will be available for viewing every day – apart from tomorrow – from two o’clock to six,’ he said. He glanced at his watch. ‘I would happily have taken you there myself and introduced you to the lady, but we close at three today – my afternoon off – so there’s hardly time, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Oh that doesn’t matter,’ Abigail said, ‘Emily and I will be able to find our own way without any problem. Going there by ourselves will be a wonderful opportunity to start getting to know Bristol.’

  The man bent to scribble something on a piece of paper. ‘Look, here’s a note showing how to get there, but anyone can direct you to Redcliffe Way.’ He began ushering them to the door. ‘And of course I will follow this up with Miss Grant first thing on Monday morning.’

  Abigail turned back. ‘We haven’t discussed rent, or what it would cost,’ she began, and he waved his hand.

  ‘Oh – I assure you it’s usually very little,’ he said airily. ‘Miss Grant didn’t actually say on this occasion, but we’ve had dealings with the lady before and I’m sure what she’s asking this time would not be too much. Anyway,’ he added brightly, ‘you can discuss the financial terms with her and come to a decision that suits you both. You might even try a little bartering!’ He held out his hand to shake Abigail’s. ‘It’s nice to have met you, Mrs Wilson, and I have a feeling that you are going to like number fourteen Redcliffe Way.’ He patted Emily’s head briefly, wondering whether Miss Grant would be happy to accept a child in the arrangement, though he had to admit this one hadn’t made a single sound.