by Anna King
Her head bobbed up and down as if to drive home the truth of her words. ‘And weak too, because I should never have let it happen in the first place. I could have stopped Tommy, he would never have forced me… But he looked so frightened, Mum, so lost and afraid. I’ve never seen Tommy like that before, he… he…’
‘There, love, don’t upset yourself, and don’t be too hard on yourself, either. You’re not the first woman to find herself in trouble, and I doubt you’ll be the last.’ Nellie stood over the armchair, her hands resting on Emily’s shoulders. She too was dreading the moment when Doris found out about Emily and Tommy Carter. Like her daughter, she knew Doris’s temperament only too well. If only the man responsible had been anyone else – not that she herself minded Tommy Carter as a son-in-law. It had been a dreadful shock to discover that her daughter was pregnant. But she had to admit, if only to herself, that seeing her dream vanish, of Emily marrying a man of means, had far outweighed her concern about the unwanted pregnancy. Though that was terrible enough, and there would be plenty of tongues wagging when Emily started to show. And the first one to come sniffing round the door in search of gossip would be that one over the road.
Visions of Ida Carter floated in front of Nellie’s eyes, bringing a tight smile to her lips. Well, she’d be in for a shock when she found out who the child’s father was, wouldn’t she? Then Nellie’s eyes clouded over. What was she thinking of? Ida Carter wouldn’t care about Tommy becoming a father. Now, if it had been her precious Andrew… Still, it was no using getting into a lather at this early stage. Pregnancy was an uncertain state, as many a woman could testify. She herself had suffered two miscarriages and… Oh, dear Lord, what was she thinking of? Hurriedly sending up a silent prayer of apology for such a dreadful thought, she turned to the dining-table and began to rearrange the already neat table-cloth.
‘When are you planning to write to Tommy?’ she asked, her voice sounding far more casual than she felt. ‘I mean, he’ll have to know sooner or later. You don’t want him coming home on leave and finding himself a father. It wouldn’t be fair…’
Emily shifted uneasily in her chair. The same thought had occurred to her, but deep down she had hoped that maybe… Well, maybe there would be no need. A rush of guilt swept over her, a feeling that she quickly pushed aside. She wasn’t going to be a hypocrite. She didn’t want a baby. Lord, she didn’t even want to get married. And if Tommy returned home safely, and she prayed God that he would, she wasn’t going to be pressured into marrying him just for appearance’s sake.
Keeping her gaze averted from her mother’s worried face she said lightly, ‘It wouldn’t be fair to let him know by letter either, Mum. There’s no telling how the news might affect him. I’d… Well, I’d much rather wait until he comes home… Oh, Lord, I have to go to the toilet again. I don’t know whether it’s nerves or…’ She was halfway out of the chair when a sudden loud knocking at the door froze her in mid-air.
Nellie, too, experienced an alarming lurch in her stomach and, with a supreme effort, she smiled and said reassuringly to Emily, ‘Don’t worry, love. You’ve been friends since you were both children. I’m sure Doris will understand… but, I think I’ll stay, just to be on the safe side.’ Walking quickly to Emily’s side, she patted the cold hand, then impulsively she leant over and wrapped her arms round Emily’s stiff shoulders and gave her a hug, before crossing the few short steps to the front door.
‘Wotcher, Mrs Ford. Hello, Em. Cor, it’s all right for some, ain’t it? Sitting in front of the fire, while the likes of me have ter go out and earn a few bob.’ Doris swept into the room like a whirlwind. She was heavily wrapped up against the bitter December wind, in a herringbone coat and thick black woollen gloves and matching scarf, the latter pulled over her head and across the lower part of her face. ‘Can’t stop long, Em. I don’t want me pay docked fer being late. Yer know what them tight sods… Oh, sorry, Mrs Ford.’ She flashed an engaging smile at Nellie. ‘Common as muck, that’s me. Still, wouldn’t do if we was all the same, would it?’
Nellie smiled back weakly.
‘No, indeed it wouldn’t, Doris.’
‘Anyways, like I said, I can’t stop long. The buses and trains’ll be more packed than usual terday.’ Doris chatted on, coming over to where Emily sat by the fire, unable to say a word. ‘Ooh, it’s lovely an’ warm in here. I wish I could stay with yer, instead of going ter work.’ Throwing back her head, she let out a raucous laugh. ‘Gawd! I wished I’d been born rich instead of beautiful, then I wouldn’t have ter worry about dragging me arse out of bed every morning.’ In spite of herself, Emily smiled. You couldn’t help but smile when Doris was around.
Doris grinned back at her friend, thinking, without a trace of jealousy, how lovely Emily looked in the red velour dress with its white lace collar and cuffs. As if she’d just thought of it, Doris leant towards Emily and said hopefully, ‘Here, why don’t yer come and meet me after work. Me an’ some of the women are going ter the pub fer a bit of a knees-up, sort of like a Christmas party. I know it’ll be late, but I’m sure yer mum’ll let yer go, won’t yer, Mrs Ford?’ She looked at Nellie, her plain face wreathed in a wide grin. ‘Eh, why don’t you come an’ all, Mrs Ford. We could do with a steadying influence, ’cos some of those old girls go barmy once they’ve had a few drinks.’
Seeing the solemn expression on both women’s faces, Doris shuffled her feet awkwardly.
‘Yeah, well, I suppose it would be a bit common fer you, Em. I just thought it’d be a laugh.’
Hearing the embarrassed uncertainty in her friend’s voice, Emily started up from the chair, her own worries temporarily forgotten.
‘Oh, Doris, that isn’t it at all,’ she protested.
‘It’s all right, Em. I don’t mind, honest. Anyway, the reason I wanted ter see yer is I got those forms – you know, ter apply fer a job on the trams. I’ve filled it in fer yer, all yer’ve got ter do is sign it, then I can drop them off on me way ter work.’ Seeing the puzzled look on Emily’s face, Doris groaned, ‘Oh, Em, yer ain’t changed yer mind again, have yer?’
Sensing the turmoil that her daughter was going through, Nellie entered the conversation in an attempt to give Emily some precious breathing space.
‘Didn’t you sign on in munitions for three years, or the duration, Doris? Only I was under the impression that all work involving the war effort was entered into under those conditions.’
Doris grinned and tapped the corner of her nose.
‘There’s always ways ter get round that, Mrs Ford. Turning up late fer work once too often, for instance, or suddenly developing a nasty cough that won’t clear up, and a doctor’s certificate ter go with it. Ooh, there’s plenty of dodges ter pull, if yer want ter get the sack.’ A look of apprehension flitted across her face. ’Ere, yer don’t think any the less of me fer planning ter pull a fast one, do yer?’ She looked from Emily to Nellie. ‘Only, there’s plenty of others ready ter take me place, and besides, I’ve done my stint, so there’s no reason fer me ter feel guilty,’ Yet there was a sudden doubt in her voice.
‘Oh, no, Doris. No, of course not, dear,’ Nellie said hastily. ‘As you say, you’ve done your stint, and that’s more than I would ever have had the courage to do – isn’t that right, Emily?’
Emily’s head suddenly cleared. It was no use putting it off any longer. The sooner she told Doris her news and got it over with, the better. Taking hold of Doris’s arm she said quietly, ‘You’d better sit down, Doris. I’ve something to tell you, and it’s going to come as a bit of a shock.’
Doris looked from Emily to Nellie in alarm.
‘What’s up? Yer both look like one of you’s got some fateful disease… Oh, gawd, yer ain’t, have yer, Em?’ Letting herself be led, Doris collapsed into the sagging armchair.
‘No, silly, of course I haven’t.’ Emily laughed shakily. ‘But, well… Oh, Lord, this is terribly difficult, Doris. There’s no easy way to tell you, so I’d better come straight out with
it.’ Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Emily blurted out, ‘I’m pregnant, Doris, and… and Tommy’s the father.’ There, she had said it. The worst part was over. She felt Nellie by her side and instinctively moved closer to her mother.
Doris looked up at the two women in bewilderment, her mouth opening and closing in stunned confusion. Then, a trembling smile came to her lips.
‘Get out of it. Yer’re having me on, you…’ Her voice faltered, then died at the troubled expression mirrored in both women’s eyes. Lowering her gaze, Doris clenched her hands into fists. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t. Then her mind shot back to the night when Mrs Ford had been rushed into hospital, and the state Emily had been in the next day. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, the vision of Emily – and of Tommy’s coat lying on the floor… this very floor, in front of the self-same fire she was now sitting by – swam in front of her. Her hands began to tremble and, as the terrible truth began to sink in, she saw her world, and her hopes and dreams for the future, collapsing all around her.
Doris couldn’t describe the feelings that were racking her body. But it hurt. Oh, God, how it hurt. And the cause of her pain was the one person she would have staked her life on – would have given her own life for. The sense of betrayal was crushing her, squeezing her chest so tight that she felt she was suffocating. And with the pain came humiliation.
She remembered clearly her declaration of love to Tommy on that windswept, cold platform barely three months ago. She remembered his stunned expression as she’d prattled on about how much she loved him, and all the time it had been Emily he had wanted… Huh! He hadn’t only wanted Emily, he’d bloody well had her, hadn’t he? And all the time Emily had kept quiet. She’d known, or had a good idea, that Doris was going to tell Tommy how she felt, and the cow had said nothing. Just stood by and watched her make a complete fool of herself. The memory of her actions sent her body squirming with embarrassment, while her face burned with humiliation as she silently relived her actions and words of that day. Her chin began to wobble, as she fought desperately to hold back the tears that she felt building behind her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry, she bloody well wasn’t going to make a fool of herself again.
‘It only happened the once, Doris, and… and we both regretted it afterwards.’ Emily edged forward cautiously, her hand going out, then stopping inches from Doris’s bowed shoulders. Twisting her fingers nervously she went on, ‘I know you must be feeling very hurt right now, and I know it seems daft to say this under the circumstances, but there’s nothing between me and Tommy. Up until that night we were just good friends. The thought of being anything else had never occurred to either of us. And… and I’ve no intention of forcing him into marrying me, so you can still… Oh, Doris, please, don’t look at me like that, please…’
Doris wasn’t even aware that she was looking at Emily. The red haze that had descended over her eyes lifted, leaving her curiously numb.
Slowly, terribly and terrifyingly slowly, she gathered her bag from her lap and rose stiffly to her feet. She had to get out of here – had to get away from Emily, dear, kind, faithful, loyal… Oh, God… Oh, dear God…!
‘Doris, Doris, please… Please, don’t. Oh, don’t, Doris. Look, sta… stay a while, I want to explain. I need to tell you how…’ Reaching out, Emily caught hold of Doris’s coat sleeve. The reaction was swift and dreadful to behold.
The feel of Emily’s hand on her arm broke through Doris’s calm exterior. Thrusting off the offending hand she swirled round, her eyes blazing with fury and hurt; eyes that were now also brimming with barely suppressed tears.
‘Don’t touch me – just don’t touch me.’ Doris’s voice came at Emily, low and menacing, and matched the fury that was twisting the familiar face into that of a stranger; a dark and frightening stranger. ‘It was that night, wasn’t it. Wasn’t it?’ Her voice was rising out of control. Some part of her was yelling, telling her to stop it, reminding her that this was Emily, her friend, someone who deep down she knew would never intentionally hurt her. But the pain was too raw, too deep, to be ignored. She hardly recognised her own voice as the hurtful, cruel words spilled from her mouth.
‘You bitch, yer bloody selfish bitch. You had everything – looks, a good education, and class. Oh, yeah, you had class, all right. I used ter be so proud ter be seen out with yer. But you weren’t satisfied, was yer. Oh, no, yer had ter take the only thing I ever wanted, didn’t yer, you… you…’
‘Doris, please…’ Nellie tried to step between the two women and was instantly thrust aside.
‘Stay out of this, Mrs Ford. This ain’t nothing ter do with you. It ain’t yer fault that yer’ve got a slag fer a daughter.’
Both Nellie and Emily gasped in shock as the venomous words continued to pour from Doris’s lips. Emily felt sick, physically sick, and would have fallen had it not been for Nellie’s tight grip round her waist.
The cautionary voice in Doris’s head continued to yell at her to stop this madness, but she was hurting badly, too badly to stop now.
‘What did Tommy say, ter get yer ter drop yer drawers, Em? Not that old chestnut about going away ter fight and maybe never coming back? Gawd, I’d’ve thought yer were too clever ter be caught out by that one.’
The sneering words were too much for Nellie.
‘That’s enough, Doris. I know you’re upset, but that’s no excuse for your outrageous behaviour. And how you could even think such things about Emily, let alone say them, is beyond…’
‘It’s all right, Mum. Let her get it all out of her system, I don’t mind.’ Emily stood, white-faced but proud, and it was her stoic demeanour that, instead of pacifying Doris, lent fuel to her already heated rage.
Thrusting her head forward, she pointed a gloved finger at Emily’s chest and hissed, ‘Yer think yer so high and mighty, don’t yer. Coming back down here from that posh house in yer posh clothes, thinking yer better than the rest of us. Well, I’ve got news fer yer, Lady Muck. I might be rough and ready and, yeah, I’m common, but at least I ain’t a whore.’
When Emily remained silently aloof, refusing to retaliate, Doris lost her last ounce of self-control. Rushing forward, she raised her arm, screaming wildly, ‘Slag, bitch, whore! I hate you, I hate you.’
Her upraised arm came sweeping down towards Emily’s face, but before the intended blow could find its mark, Emily’s hand shot out, grabbing the flailing arm and holding it in a tight grip.
‘Get out, Doris, get out now. I know I’ve hurt you, but I’m not going to take this abuse. I don’t deserve it, and deep down you know that too.’
Nellie stood nervously to one side, ready to step in if Doris retaliated with her fists. But her action wasn’t necessary. Suddenly deflated, Doris’s body slumped, all the fight gone from her. As if in a daze she moved slowly towards the front door. Placing her hand on the doorknob she stopped and then, without turning round, she said softly, ‘I never want ter see you again, Emily, not ever, understand?’ Turning her head, her eyes met Emily’s. Swallowing loudly she added, ‘I mean it, Em. I’ll never forgive yer fer this, and I never want ter set eyes on yer ever again.’
‘Doris…’ Emily started after the retreating figure and found herself held in a vice-like grip.
‘Leave her, love. It’s the hurt talking. She’ll come round, you’ll see. Once the initial shock wears off, she’ll be back. You know what Doris is like. Well, you should do after all these years.’
Emily didn’t answer. Her throat was too full for mere words. Still shaking from the violent altercation, she crossed to the window and pulled the net curtain aside. Her vision blurred, she stared after the figure walking unsteadily down the cobbled road.
With her body bent against the sharp December wind Doris looked so defenceless, so vulnerable, that Emily had to fight down the urge to rim after her. Leaning her cheek against the cold windowpane she whispered, ‘Doris… Doris, come back, please come back.’ And even though she knew there was no chance of her friend retu
rning, she stayed at her post until the familiar figure disappeared from view.
Chapter Fourteen
The buses, as Doris had predicted, were packed solid, which did nothing to alleviate her already highly charged state of mind.
On arrival at Woolwich Square, Doris joined the seething mass of men and women waiting for the next bus, which would take them to No. 4 Gate of the Arsenal. The square was a hive of activity, with dozens of stalls, some decorated with fairy lights to promote the Christmas spirit, crammed into every available space in the busy road. Shoppers alighting from other buses carefully wended their way through the disorganised bus queue, making sure that the men and women waiting for the Arsenal bus knew they weren’t trying to push in, but were merely attempting to get through to the market.
Somewhere in the distance, a choir from the Salvation Army was singing ‘O come, all ye faithful’, hoping that the festive cheer would prise loose change from pockets and purses and into their collecting tins.
Normally, Doris would either have joined in or rendered her own version of the Christmas carol, but today she was oblivious to the sights and sounds surrounding her.
The moment the bus came into view the crowd surged forward, fighting and pushing indiscriminately for a place on board. Loud curses came to her on all sides as she grimly battled her way through to the bus, only to be ejected, along with a dozen others, back onto the cold, frosty pavement. It was twenty minutes, and another two buses later, when Doris finally climbed aboard.
The bus was crowded to suffocation point, with men wearing flat caps and thick woollen scarfs tied tightly at their throats, hanging on all round the outside. No money was needed on this particular bus route, as it was almost impossible for the conductor to collect the fares amid such a mêlée. When the bus reached its destination, the occupants spilled out onto the pavement, joining thousands of men and women pouring in through the four gates, still pushing and shoving as they went their separate ways down the roads that led to the various buildings inside the Woolwich Arsenal.