Sarah had no choice but to allow Maisie to drag her into the middle of the room and join in along with the rest of their guests. She was tired and wanted to get home and tuck Georgina up in her bed before it got too late. It wasn’t fair to leave the child with her dad for much longer. Even Ruby was starting to doze off as she sat in the corner of the room. Her appearance as Father Christmas had gone down a treat with both the old soldiers and the ex-Woolies workers, who had pulled her leg something rotten about her extra padding and her deep voice as she said ho ho ho until it made her cough. However, there were loud cheers when Ruby started to hand out gifts to the men and women, which had been donated by many of the businesses in the town. Thank goodness there were a few spare, Sarah thought to herself, as the lady who had arrived with the old soldiers was not known to them. She’d accepted the small bottle of rum with a smile and the last Sarah had seen she was sharing it with a couple of the retired Woolworths ladies.
Maureen had linked arms with Vera and both were swaying along to the song. It had been a good party but now it was time they all went home. She joined in the last chorus of the song and headed towards Betty to tell her it was late and suggest she get their guests’ coats, when the wailing of an air-raid siren down by the river began, gaining volume, screaming out to residents to head for safety. Every person in the room froze. Betty stopped playing.
‘Bloody hell,’ Maisie declared.
Sarah watched, as if in a dream, as some of the women reached for their coats amid mutterings of false alarms and getting home to their husbands and kids. ‘No, you can’t go out,’ she called loudly, at last finding her voice. ‘We must all go down to the cellar until the all-clear sounds.’
‘That is correct,’ Betty said, taking over from Sarah. ‘Freda, will you go ahead and check the cellar? Maisie and Mary, please help our guests into their overcoats. It’s none too warm down there.’
‘We will take down some of the leftovers,’ Ruby said, heading to the kitchen with Maureen. ‘God knows how long we’ll be stuck there. We might as well make ourselves comfortable.’
‘I’ll help you,’ Vera called out, hurrying to join them. ‘If there’s a lot left I can always help out by taking some home . . .’
‘Then be quick. There’s no knowing how close the enemy planes are,’ Betty said, gazing towards the large windows that looked out over the main shopping street in the town. ‘I’ll just check the blackout is secure.’
‘It’s fine, Betty. Come on, you need to get down to the cellar as well,’ Sarah said, guiding her worried friend towards the corridor that led to the staircase that would take them down to the main shop floor and then to the cellar.
‘But where are you going?’ Betty asked, as Sarah stopped at the door to the store manager’s office.
‘To collect my tin helmet and the stirrup pump; it’s time for firewatching duties to commence and I’m first on the duty rota.’
‘Oh, Sarah, you’ve had such a long day already and you really should be home with you husband and daughter.’
Sarah was shocked by her friend’s words. ‘Betty, if everyone thought that way our buildings would burn to the ground and Hitler would have won.’ She glanced at the clock on Betty’s desk. ‘Besides, Alan is on his way home from the football match and Georgina will be in bed by now. I’ll be finished in another two hours and it will only take a few minutes to get home. I can kiss my daughter then and know she is safe for another day.’ Deep down inside, Sarah truly wished she was at home right now and had her loved ones safe by her side. But there was a war to fight and sacrifices had to be made.
‘Forgive me,’ Betty said. ‘I’m as tired as you and not thinking straight. Let’s hope this air raid is a false alarm and we will all be on our way home soon. I’ll send someone up to keep you company and bring you a cup of tea. Thank goodness we have provisions for making hot drinks in the cellar.’
‘What do you want me to help with?’ Freda asked, appearing at their side. ‘I’ve got time to spare before I’m due up on the roof to take over from you, Sarah.’
Betty glanced around the staffroom, which was emptying quickly as their guests were being led down the two floors to the cellar of the store. ‘Freda, perhaps you could help young Mary with her gran and her sister. It looks as though Trisha isn’t far off delivering her child and I’d hate to see her slip or get knocked in the rush. Some of our older guests are in rather a hurry.’
‘And some of them have put away a fair amount of booze. I’d be shocked if it wasn’t so funny.’ Maisie grinned. ‘D’yer want me to keep an eye on that inspector? He seems to do nothing but write in that notebook of his,’ she added with a little hiccup. ‘Oops!’ She giggled.
‘Perhaps just help Freda with the expectant mum, eh, Maisie?’ Sarah said, stepping in to help. Surely her friend couldn’t come to any harm helping Trisha downstairs and finding her a comfortable seat. Perhaps it would also show Maisie how a woman carrying a child should be behaving.
A mighty crash shook the very foundations of the Woolworths store as a bomb landed somewhere in the town. ‘Bugger me,’ Maisie declared loudly. ‘C’mon, Trisha, hurry up or that kid of yours’ll be shaken into the world,’ she said, dragging the flustered woman down the stairs as fast as she could.
Sarah headed back into the staffroom and pushed up the large sash window after switching off the lights. It was the quickest way to gain entry to the roof. Checking the helmet was secure, doing up her coat and slinging the stirrup pump across her shoulder, she reached into her pocket for her gloves before climbing through the window and up a metal ladder attached to the wall that led to a flat part of the roof, from where she could see over the rooftops of Erith.
The Woolies staff had, after two years of firewatching duties, fallen into a routine. Buckets of water were already filled and lined up in the middle of the roof space; she knew that a colleague would be joining her shortly and between them they would look out for incendiary bombs being dropped on nearby shops and alert other businesses if there was danger. The fire station on Cross Street was only five minutes away and, if required, an engine could be called within minutes. Worrying about the loud crash they’d heard just before she’d climbed onto the roof, Sarah gazed up and down the street, hoping that the explosion had not harmed anyone or dropped anywhere close to where her young child was sleeping. Wrinkling her nose at an acrid smell, she knew it was time to be vigilant or Woolworths and the dozens of people in the cellar would be in danger.
‘What’s ’appening?’ Pete from the storeroom asked, as he joined her on the roof, holding out a pair of binoculars. ‘Miss Billington said to give you these, not that I think they’ll be much cop in this blackout.’
‘Thanks, Pete,’ Sarah said, ignoring his comment. The lad was still young and she could tell he was nervous. ‘Why don’t you check the buckets are full up and then pop down to the cellar and let Betty know that a shop’s been hit further up the road. Bring Freda back with you so there’s enough of us to put out any sparks that come blowing this way.’
‘I’ll do that, Mrs Gilbert,’ the lad said politely. ‘How do you know what to do? I feel pretty useless, to be honest.’
‘You’re doing all right, Pete. You know how to use the stirrup pump and we rely on you to help carry buckets of water up to us, what with you being a strong young man.’
‘Yes, Mrs Gilbert,’ he replied, before hurrying back the way he’d just come.
Sarah raised the binoculars to her eyes. Already, the fire caused by the bomb blast had taken hold, illuminating the surrounding road in its glow. She could see figures on the roofs of other shops and waved back as Norman Missons raised his arm to her. She could see him give a thumbs-up before returning to dampen down the cinders blowing onto his ironmonger’s shop. As Sarah waved, she felt she was not alone. Together the workers and shopkeepers of Erith would not let the enemy defeat them.
It could be a long night, she thought, as more planes roared overhead with the boys of the RAF in ho
t pursuit whilst the women of the ATS, based down on the marshes, controlled the large searchlights picking out the enemy to aid the ack-ack guns to hit their targets.
She checked that the stirrup pump was working correctly whilst keeping a vigilant watch on the roof of her beloved Woolworths and continued to pray that they’d all see the dawn break and they’d be one day closer to Christmas.
Chapter 5
‘There’s an old mill by the stream, Nellie Dean . . .’
‘Our guests all seem fairly happy,’ Betty said, as she squeezed onto a wooden bench between Maureen and Ruby they seem to be enjoying the sing song. ‘With a little luck we’ll not be down here for long.’
‘Don’t tempt fate,’ Ruby warned the store manager. ‘We have no idea what plans that Hitler’s got up his sleeve. Why, look how long we were down the shelter during the Blitz. I swear I started to sprout roots like a spud, I was living underground so much.’
‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’ Betty shuddered. ‘I’ve been fortunate in that my little house has a small cellar, but being alone when goodness knows what is going on above our heads can be worrying at times. I snuggle down under a blanket and try to become engrossed in a book if I have enough light.’
‘That’s not good for your eyes, though,’ Maureen interrupted. ‘I’m not one for reading much, although since Sarah married my Alan I’ve become interested in the magazines she brings home. I like to read about the royal family in the newspapers as well. It’s comforting to know they’re having to take shelter from the bombing just like we are. They’re decent people. We’ve much to be grateful for living here in England and having a king and queen and our young princesses.’
Ruby nodded in agreement. ‘At the end of the day, they have to go to the lavvy just like we do, so why shouldn’t they be in their shelters just like us? Mind you, if I had as much money as they did, I’ll sell off some of the Crown Jewels and take myself off to America or Canada to get well away from this war.’
‘They’ve had it bad over there though, Ruby. Look at how the Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor,’ Maureen pointed out.
‘At least now they’ve joined us to fight the enemy. It has taken ’em two years to do it, though,’ Ruby answered quickly. ‘From all accounts the Americans can be a bit on the brash side. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a good musical from Hollywood the same as the next person, but I’m not so sure I want ’em all over here with their strange way of speaking the King’s English.’
Maisie, who had been sitting opposite the older women deep in her own thoughts, burst out laughing. ‘I don’t think they’re gonna be tap dancing down the Strand, Ruby, or doing Busby Berkeley routines in the fountains of Trafalgar Square. I must say, I like the Yanks. The few I’ve seen so far have been very friendly.’
‘You would say that. You’ve always been a bit on the flighty side,’ Vera added, as she approached the little band of women. ‘Any chance we can have a cup of tea, Miss Billington? I’m fair parched, what with climbing down into this damp cellar and sitting about. It’d help warm me up as well. You’d best be careful with some of the old boys. You could kill ’em off having ’em down here for more than an hour or two.’
Betty Billington looked worried. ‘My goodness, I’d thought more of our guests’ safety than their health. Let’s hope we won’t be down here for much longer. What can we do to warm everybody up?’
‘Looking at the state of them, they’re more than half pickled with the booze they’ve been knocking back.’ Maisie grinned at her boss. ‘It’s a shame the old Joanna ain’t down here but I reckon we can have a bit of a sing-song and get them on their feet for the hokey-cokey and the Lambeth Walk. What do yer think, Betty?’
‘An admirable idea, Maisie. Come along, Maureen, you can get the singing under way. Ruby, perhaps you could show us all how to do this Lambeth Waltz?’
Ruby rose stiffly to her feet and stretched her arms. ‘It’s the Lambeth Walk, dear, but we can give it a go. Anything that passes the time is good in my book. But Vera’s got a point about the damp. I can feel it in me bones already. Why don’t we get a few of the ladies onto tea-making duties? Maureen and me have a few bits of food that’ll help soak up the alcohol in the old boys’ bellies. It’s only Spam and fish-paste sandwiches, but it’ll hit the spot. Freda,’ she called out to the young woman, who was standing on the stairs that led up to the shop above. ‘Can you get some tea and cocoa sorted out for the guests?’
‘I was just going up to the roof to see if Sarah’s all right,’ Freda called back to her landlady, above the din of Maureen starting to pull people to their feet regardless of their protests.
‘Tell you what. I’ll go and ’elp Sarah. When you’ve made the drinks p’raps you’ll bring some up to us on the roof, Freda?’ Maisie said. ‘It don’t look like young Pete’s pulling his weight. He should be on duty up there and the last I seen of ’im he was having a quick fag and drinking beer with his mate. The sooner he gets his call-up papers the better, as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Maisie, before you go. Can you tell me what the inspector is up to? He’s hardly spoken two words to me. Even when I introduced myself he walked off to chat with the other staff. He isn’t what I expected at all. Now he’s stuck down here with us I’m worried he’ll find fault with the way we run things.’
‘I’d leave him be – he seems happy enough. It’s the woman with the lopsided ’at on her ’ead I’m puzzled about. I swear she’s not one of our retired Woolies ladies, so why is she here?’
The women looked over to where the lady was sharing the contents of a hip flask with Mary’s grandmother. ‘What can we do? If she’s a spy from Hedley Mitchell we can’t turf her out during an air raid, can we?’ Ruby grinned. ‘Let her be. She’s not hurting a soul.’
Maisie made her way up the steep stairway from the cellar into the dark, empty Woolworths store. She was glad to get away from the huddle of bodies in the cellar as the smell of mothballs, beer and body odour was making her feel nauseous. She longed for her husband to arrive and carry her home to their rooms in nearby Avenue Road, but she knew he was in London on important war work for the RAF so, like everyone else, she’d just have to put up with the situation until the all-clear sounded. Joining her mate Sarah up on the roof would help clear her head and give her something to do to forget the dull backache she’d had for the past few hours. Perhaps Sarah was right and she should slow down now she was carrying her child.
Mindful of her responsible job as a supervisor at Woolworths, Maisie stopped in the empty store to check that the large doors were secure before climbing the steep staircase to the part of the store not accessible to customers. The thin beam of light from her torch did little to guide the way, but after three years working in the Erith branch of the company she could find her way blindfolded through the corridor that led to the storerooms, Betty’s office and the staff canteen. She just wished there was an easier way to access the roof of the store when on firewatching duties than having to climb through a window. It was fine when she was wearing her siren suit or the elegant slacks she’d recently fashioned out of a piece of fabric she’d picked up in Woolwich market, after seeing them worn by the American actress Bette Davis in a film at the Odeon cinema but in her Woolies uniform it was a little more difficult.
Heading to the staff canteen and thanking God that there was a blackout so she didn’t show her knickers, she climbed carefully through the window that led to the roof area where she’d find Sarah. Maisie started to chuckle to herself at the sight she must be as she hoisted her skirt up over her knees and wobbled precariously on a conveniently placed chair. ‘Bleedin’ ’eck,’ she muttered, grabbing at the windowsill. ‘Steady, girl, anyone would think you’ve had a drop or two of the old muvvers’ ruin.’
Stopping to catch her breath, she gazed around at the usually busy room where staff met for their tea breaks and lunch. She could still catch the aroma of boiled cabbage from their earlier meal alongside the sweeter scent of custa
rd. In the little light from where she pulled back the blackout curtain, she could see the outline of the counter where Maureen served the staff and behind it the sink and cooker where meals were prepared. It was then that something caught her eye. She let out a shriek as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, the chair wobbled violently and she fell in an inelegant heap onto the cold tiled floor. Bugger, she thought to herself, as a pain as sharp as a knife shot through her stomach before tightening like a band of steel around her waist. She felt the room sway and jump and heard a scream from nearby, after which darkness descended, carrying her away on a tide of pain.
‘Miss, Miss. Are you all right?’
Maisie blinked at the bright light and tried to push it away from her eyes.
‘Thank goodness. I though you was dead,’ a young girl’s voice exclaimed. ‘You went down with a bit of a crunch. I heard it above the sound of the bombs dropping.’
Maisie tried to lever herself to a sitting position but a sharp pain put paid to that. ‘Who are you? I don’t remember you at the party. Are you one of the new kids that’ve just started working here?’ she asked, whilst trying not to breathe or make the pain any worse.
‘You could say that,’ the girl said quietly. ‘I’ve been here a few days now.’
Maisie couldn’t think about who the girl was right now. She could see from the beam of the torch that was now lying on the floor beside her that the girl was no more than a kid. The thought that she could do with a square meal inside her crossed Maisie’s mind. However, her main concern was for Sarah, who was up on the roof alone. She’d seen the warehouse man, Pete, downing a bottle of beer, so knew he wasn’t doing his bit up on the roof. ‘Is that burning I can smell? Good lord, I think the roof’s on fire. You’ve gotta get up there and see what’s ’appening. It’s my friend, Sarah, she may be injured . . . or worse . . .’ Maisie said, before closing her eyes and trying to breathe through a sudden pain.
Carols at Woolworths Page 4