The War Girls

by Rosie James

  Emily had nodded vigorously. ‘Yep,’ she’d said, as she’d dipped another chip into the salt on her plate, ‘and we’re going to get up nearly as early as Eileen and Mummy to make sure I’m properly dressed in my uniform. Aren’t we, Mrs Gladys?’

  Mrs Matthews had nodded. ‘Yes, but you are very good at doing it all yourself, because we’ve been practising, haven’t we.’

  And remembering that now, Abigail realised that she might actually be feeling a bit jealous of Emily’s surrogate mother. But what a terrible thing to admit! Gladys Matthews had been nothing less than a saint from the very moment she had entered their lives.

  That Monday was the longest day Abigail could ever remember, and she couldn’t wait for their shift to end at the factory so that they could go home. What if Emily had been bullied and didn’t want to go back to school tomorrow?

  But as soon as Eileen and Abigail entered the house, Emily raced along the hall to greet them.

  ‘Guess what?’ she exclaimed. ‘I am going to be book monitor!’

  Hardly bothering to give the girls a hug, Emily went on, ‘Our teacher is called Miss Townsend and the girl sitting at the desk next to me is called Jennifer and she is the milk monitor. And Peter, the little boy sitting behind me, always feeds the goldfish and one of the other boys rings the bell for playtime and going home time.’ Emily sighed importantly. ‘Miss Townsend said that the school day is always very busy so everyone must help her.’

  Relief flooded through Abigail. Why had she worried herself nearly sick all day? Emily was on top of the world, and had been given something to do that was just up her street and a perfect antidote to homesickness.

  Presently, after they’d had supper, Abigail drew Emily on to her lap. ‘So, how did you feel when you were told you were going to be book monitor? And what exactly do you have to do?’

  ‘I was excited!’ Emily said. ‘Well, first of all, I’ve got to make sure all the books are always left neatly stacked on the shelves. And if anybody wants to borrow one to take home, I’ve got to write their name, and the number of the book, in the book register. Miss Townsend said books are very precious and we don’t want them damaged or lost. And no one must ever write in a reading book.’

  ‘And what about Jennifer? Do you like her?’ Abigail asked.

  Emily nodded. ‘Yes. We stayed in the playground together all the time at break when we had our milk and a biscuit, and we sat together in the hall to have our sandwiches at dinner time. She’s got a little brother called David, but he’s too small to go to school yet. She asked me if I had a brother or a sister and I said I didn’t.’

  Mrs Matthews broke in. ‘When I collected Emily at quarter past three, I don’t think she wanted to come home!’ Eileen’s mother smiled. ‘That little school has always had a reputation for being a kind and caring place – quite apart from its high standard of teaching.’

  Abigail hugged Emily to her more tightly. ‘And what exactly did you do today, Emily? Could you understand it all?’

  Emily nodded. ‘Well, it was just like Mrs Gladys and I have been doing, sums and writing. And everyone had a turn at reading out, and Miss Townsend asked me to slow down because I was going too fast!’

  It was quite late before Emily could be persuaded to go to bed. She was still wound up with the exciting novelty of her day and, tucking her up, Abigail said, ‘So I think you enjoyed your first day at school, darling, didn’t you. Are you looking forward to going back tomorrow?’

  ‘YES!’ Emily shouted at the top of her voice. ‘Jennifer asked me if I had a skipping rope and when I said I didn’t, she said she would lend me one of hers. Because she’s got two. And we’re going to do skipping in the playground at break tomorrow.’

  Abigail’s heart almost burst with happiness. Emily had grown up in one short day. ‘Jennifer sounds a very nice little girl,’ Abigail said, and Emily nodded, at last appearing to want to settle down.

  ‘I like her,’ she said, yawning. ‘She’s my friend.’

  With America now firmly entrenched in the war, Bristol and the whole nation felt a sense of relief that they were no longer alone in the quest for victory. And one day, some of the factory girls were given the chance to reduce their hours of work, or even to stand down.

  So, at the end of June, after working at their bench for nearly eighteen months, Eileen, Abigail and Carrie left the Ordnance Factory for the last time, each silently breathing a sigh of relief that they had come to no harm during their stint of duty.

  As he dropped them off for the last time, the van driver poked his head out of the window. ‘Well done, girls,’ he said. ‘You’re all still in one piece! But don’t count your chickens because you never know, you may have to come back! This war’s not over yet, y’know! Personally, I don’t think we’ve heard the last all-clear!’

  It was a Friday evening, and as the three walked arm in arm towards number six Eileen said, ‘I hope the war is over for us, and that we don’t have to go back because my nightmare has been about what my mother would do if something awful had happened to me and she’d had to face the rest of her life alone – or even worse, to have to look after me!’ Eileen shuddered. ‘When we volunteered, I don’t think we really thought about that aspect of it, did we?’

  Carrie agreed. ‘No, none of us did,’ she said. ‘And although my mother and father would still have had each other if I’d copped it, I think the bottom would have dropped out of their world if I was no longer there with them.’ She half-smiled. ‘And Mark would have shed more than a tear or two I imagine,’ she added.

  After a moment, Abigail said slowly, ‘I believe that we probably did think about it, even if we didn’t put it into words. I mean, I don’t need to tell you that Emily is always there right in the front of my mind at all times, but …’ She paused, frowning briefly. ‘But because we three were in it together, it somehow made it all right – if that makes any sense – and it honestly didn’t occur to me that we wouldn’t be going home each night.’

  ‘Well, there you are then. Your optimism was well founded,’ Eileen said, ‘and I agree with you. It always did feel like safety in numbers, didn’t it, or at least safety in the number three!’

  When they got back, Mrs Matthews was busy at the stove with the kettle on for a cup of tea as usual, and she looked up as the girls entered.

  ‘Welcome home all of you,’ she said. ‘Have you really finished at that place?’

  ‘Yes, really, Mother,’ Eileen said. ‘And now, if they’ll have me, I suppose I’ll soon be going back to The Royal as if nothing unusual had happened in my life! However am I going to cope? Anyway, you can take a back seat again, Mother, and look after yourself instead of us.’

  Gladys Matthews interrupted, smiling. ‘Now, don’t you start bossing me around again, Eileen! Emily and I have been managing perfectly well by ourselves. Haven’t we, Emily?’

  Emily, who’d gone over to hug her mother, nodded. ‘It was easy,’ she said. ‘I usually peeled the potatoes before I went to school, didn’t I, Mrs Gladys, and always wiped up our breakfast dishes.’

  ‘And of course, Eileen, as you and Abigail have been at home weekends to do the cleaning and the laundry and some of the grocery shopping,’ Mrs Matthews said, ‘it all worked very well in the end, didn’t it?’

  Dropping a kiss on Emily’s head, Abigail glanced at Eileen’s mother. ‘I have to admit, Mrs Matthews, knowing that our evening meal would be all ready to eat when we got home helped to keep me going, especially as I hadn’t done anything towards it,’ she said lightly.

  Eileen agreed. ‘You were always a brilliant cook, Mother, and it’s only in the fairly recent past that you haven’t done so much of it.’

  ‘You mean, I haven’t been allowed to,’ Gladys Matthews said. ‘But this war has made demands on all of us, and I must say I do enjoy being, well, in charge of things a bit more – and I have to admit that the new tablets the doctor prescribed seem to be working very well this time. And of course,’ Eileen’s
mother added, ‘Emily is such a help. She gets herself ready for school each day, and I never have to check whether she’d put on her clean blouse or whether she’d brushed her teeth!’

  ‘Well, my daughter is now five years old,’ Abigail reminded everyone, ‘and growing very tall. We might even have to buy a longer skirt before the September term begins.’

  After they’d drunk their tea, Carrie stood up to go. ‘Well, I’ll love you and leave you,’ she said, ‘because my mother will be waiting to spoil me. And I know what she’s cooking for our supper tonight,’ she added. ‘Rabbit! At least there’s no shortage of those.’

  Emily immediately looked up. ‘What? Do you mean a bunny rabbit?’

  ‘No, not a bunny,’ Carrie said quickly. ‘Just a rabbit.’

  ‘So we’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, Carrie,’ Eileen said, ushering Carrie out of the kitchen. ‘We haven’t looked around the shops for ages, have we? And we haven’t seen very much of Janet lately, either. We really must go and catch up with all the local gossip!’

  ‘Good idea,’ Carrie said. ‘About two-thirty did you say?’

  As Abigail got herself ready to go out the following afternoon, she admitted to a mixture of feelings. Was that it, then? She had volunteered, she had ‘done her bit’ for the war effort, and now she was redundant. And it had taken more out of her than she cared to admit. The task had been tough. Dirty, smelly, frightening and it was going to take some time to shrug it off and get back to normality. But it would be wonderful to be able to take Emily to school again each morning.

  Would Blackwell’s be ready to take her on once more? They’d always said they would, but would she feel like being among all those books again? Even though she assured herself that yes, of course she would, it was going to seem very tame after helping to manufacture bombs and bullets. From that deafening environment of raised voices and machinery and that sense of urgency, to the quiet serenity of a bookshop. How could her two lives be so entirely alien?

  But then, she’d done this sort of thing before, hadn’t she? By leaving Coopers and coming to Bristol, she’d swapped her life for one completely different, and it had worked. Despite the unbelievable intervention of the war, it had worked.

  Just then, Emily pranced into the bedroom, anxious to get going. ‘Aren’t you ready yet, Mummy? Carrie’s arrived and we’re all waiting for you.’

  ‘Ready,’ Abigail said, picking up her bag and following Emily downstairs.

  It was a perfect afternoon and, as usual on a Saturday, the city was buzzing with activity although most of the shops had little to show off in their windows. But Parson’s, the jewellers, still managed to attract the glance of everyone passing by.

  Presently, they all made their way to Robertson’s – with Emily running ahead to go in first.

  Janet was at the till talking animatedly to a customer who was just leaving, and when the four entered the café she looked up, her face wreathed in smiles.

  ‘Well, what a treat on a busy Saturday afternoon!’ she exclaimed, coming around to give Emily a hug. ‘Are you ready to do some washing up for me, Emily?’

  Emily nodded. ‘Yes, but can I have an ice cream first?’

  ‘Tea, shortbreads and ice cream on the house!’ Janet said, nodding the order to Pat at the counter.

  Then the girls sat down at one of the small tables in the corner and Eileen said, ‘Sorry we’ve seen so little of you lately, Janet, but you know where we’ve been! Anyway, yesterday was our last shift, our last day – so we’re free to come and haunt you and make ourselves a nuisance once again.’

  Janet glanced at Abigail. ‘So – does that mean my favourite member of staff is returning to work soon? I’ve really missed you each afternoon in the shop, Abigail.’

  ‘I don’t think there’ll be much to stop me,’ Abigail replied. ‘But we’ve all just got to catch up on ourselves first. I’ll go to Blackwell’s next week and see if my job’s still there, then I’ll come straight back and let you know, Janet.’

  Eileen made a face. ‘Knowing The Royal, I bet they’ll want me at my desk straightaway! No little holiday first, for being a brave girl!’

  ‘Same here,’ Carrie said. ‘But I have to say that I’m quite looking forward to being back at The Berkeley. Civilisation beckons! And the smell of pastries and other pleasant odours will be a nice change!’

  The next day, everyone at number six attended Morning Service at All Saints. Again, the weather was perfect so that after the service, people wandered into the church gardens taking their coffee and biscuits with them.

  Carrying their own tray, Eileen led her mother over to the long bench under the Magnolia tree, and they all sat down. Abigail glanced around her.

  ‘The last time we were here, it wasn’t quite as peaceful as this, was it,’ she said, and Eileen nodded.

  ‘No and poor Emily never got her ride on the roundabout, did you, darling?’ she said.

  Emily shrugged. ‘Well, it didn’t matter,’ she said airily. ‘Anyway, I think it was really meant for very small children.’

  They sat there enjoying their coffee and Carrie came out to join them. ‘Isn’t it a lovely day!’ she said. ‘Dad was so pleased to see you all there in the front pew.’ She sat herself down on the end of the bench for a moment. ‘Now, I have some jolly news – Mark has a four-day leave mid-July and Mum and I decided we’d like a little party on the Saturday evening, the 11th. Just for special friends,’ Carrie added, winking at Emily. ‘When we got engaged there wasn’t the time or opportunity for much celebration because Mark was back on duty almost at once, but mid-July he’ll be here for four whole days! Four whole days! So Mum and I thought – let’s have a “do”! And it’s time you all met Simon – Simon Hill – who’s going to be Mark’s best man. He’s in the same regiment,’ Carrie added.

  ‘Is it to be a full evening dress affair?’ Eileen asked. ‘Must we turn up looking posh?’

  ‘No!’ Carrie said, laughing. ‘Just come as you are – but there will be a nice supper. I can promise you that because my mother is used to finding food for everyone at fairly short notice. And of course there will be wine – and a special cocktail for small people!’

  ‘What’s a cocktail?’ Emily wanted to know.

  ‘It’s a little mixture of lovely drinks,’ Carrie said. ‘Squash, and all sorts of juices, strawberry and blackberry, and with little pieces of fruit floating on the top. You will love it, Emily, and I’ll make sure it’s nice and sweet.’

  ‘Well, we can bring a contribution to help with the food,’ Eileen said. ‘Just let us know the sort of supper you have in mind, Carrie, and we’ll do our best not to spoil it. But with the rationing and food shortages, it’s only fair that we help out.’

  ‘We’ll see what my mother has to say about that,’ Carrie said, ‘but thanks for the offer.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I can’t stay because there are the coffee things to wash up and put away.’

  Emily tugged at her sleeve. ‘But when are you and Mark going to get married?’ she said. ‘You’ve promised that I’m going to be a bridesmaid, and we’ll have to look for my dress soon, won’t we?’

  Carrie made a face. ‘It’s difficult to make an actual date for the wedding, Emily,’ she said, ‘because it all depends on what’s happening with the war. But it certainly won’t be for a while, I’m afraid. It might even have to wait until next summer.’

  ‘Never mind,’ Mrs Matthews said, ‘that gives us a nice long time to look in the shops for dresses and hats. I’m told that there’s very little choice of anything at the moment,’ she added.

  Carrie stood up to go. ‘Well, we’re not going to let anything worry us just yet,’ she said, ‘and Mum has said that if we can’t find what we want when the time comes, she will make it all herself. My wedding dress and your bridesmaid’s dress as well, Emily! So let’s hope there’ll be nice material available by that time, but if not, Mum says she has some supplies stored away upstairs where she does her sewing.’ Carrie smiled.
‘My mother has never wasted a thing and she is a bit of hoarder – so don’t worry, Emily, if she can’t find material for me, she’ll make sure she has something beautiful for my chief bridesmaid!’

  As Carrie turned to leave, Gladys Matthews said, ‘If the party is likely to go on rather late,’ she said, ‘would it be better if Emily and I stayed at home?’

  ‘Oh no please—’ Emily began, and Carrie broke in at once.

  ‘No, Mrs Matthews – it won’t be too late for Emily – and besides, we would like you to be there because although we don’t expect that there’ll be many of us, one of our guests is my godfather – Maurice Stone – and you know Mr Stone, don’t you?’

  Eileen’s mother nodded. ‘Well, I hardly know him – but I have been to his Art and Sculpture Gallery in Queen’s Road many times and have spoken to him once or twice, though not in recent years of course.’ She glanced at Abigail. ‘Although the Stone Gallery largely exists for special exhibitions by distinguished artists and sculptors, Maurice Stone is a wonderful painter himself. Perhaps you should show him some of your own work, Abigail, because I’m sure he would be impressed. And he is a very nice gentleman to talk to,’ Gladys Matthews added.

  ‘Well, there you are, then!’ Carrie said. ‘And anyway, we want you and Emily to be at the party, Mrs Matthews, because it’s for special family and friends, so you cannot get out of it!’

  Chapter 30

  At six o’clock on Saturday evening two weeks later, the taxi arrived at West Road to take the guests to the vicarage.

  ‘I’ve never been to a proper grown-up party,’ Emily announced proudly as she smoothed down the skirt of her best dress and took her place in the car next to Mrs Matthews.

  ‘And it’s been a long time since I have,’ Eileen’s mother replied. She glanced across at Abigail and Eileen who were holding trays of little canapés they’d made to add to the party feast. ‘With all the rationing, I don’t know how you two came up with those ideas, but it all looks very tempting.’