by Rosie Clarke
‘Mrs Stockbridge is very kind to stand in for us,’ Beth said, speaking formally, as was the custom on the shop floor, though to her, Mrs Stockbridge would always be Minnie. ‘I’ve exchanged Friday afternoon with Miss Kaye – but I should like to take my outstanding leave of three days next week, if that is possible.’
‘We’ll make sure it is,’ Rachel told her. ‘You need to spend some time with your husband.’
‘Yes, I do,’ Beth agreed. ‘I think that lady is coming back for a bag she looked at earlier this morning.’
‘I’ll see you later.’ Rachel nodded to Beth, Becky Stockbridge and Marion Kaye and went on her way. She would call in on Mr Stockbridge and ask for Beth’s holiday to be scheduled and then she would go up to Mrs Harper’s office on the top floor.
‘Good morning, Mrs Bailey.’
She smiled at one of the young lads from Fred Burrows’ department in the basement. He was carrying a load of parcels and heading for the lift. Rachel moved to open it for him and he grinned in appreciation.
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
‘How are you getting on, Mr Hardy?’ she asked as they entered the lift together. ‘I trust you enjoy your work here?’ Bob Hardy seemed a good worker, keen and energetic.
‘Yes, Mrs Bailey. I like Mr Burrows and the job is good – but I’ll be off to join up in the summer.’ He winked at her cheekily. ‘It was a bit of all right Sheffield United beating Chelsea at the Old Trafford last Saturday. That’s my grandad’s team and them Chelsea lot think they’re the bees’ knees – took ’em down a peg for once.’
‘So, we’ll be losing you too in the summer.’ She frowned. The young lads came for a few months, but as soon as they were old enough to join up, they were off, eager to fight for King and country. She wondered how many of them would come back whole and healthy to work for Harpers again.
Her thoughts turned to her husband, William. Although she’d had a letter from him a month previously, it had been three months out of date, delayed since before Christmas and she still didn’t know if he was safe. April was nearly over now and she hadn’t had up-to-date news of him for four months. It was so hard having no way of knowing for certain…
‘I’ll be back when the war’s over,’ Bob Hardy told her and grinned. ‘I like working with old Fred, so I’ll likely be asking for my job back then.’
Rachel frowned at his disrespect, because it was one of Harpers’ rules that everyone was addressed by their surname and not by their Christian name. It wasn’t easy for Rachel to remember when talking to Beth Burrows, who was her friend, but she stuck to the rules in working hours, and young Mr Hardy should do the same. However, it wasn’t her place to reprimand him and she wouldn’t report him this time as she was sure Fred Burrows had encouraged the use of his Christian name.
The lift pinged and Bob Hardy got out with a nod to her. Rachel continued to the top floor and made her way to Sally Harper’s office. As she did so, Mr Stockbridge came up to her, smiling. She stopped to speak to him, asking about his wife.
‘How is Minnie? I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks.’
‘She is very well,’ Mr Stockbridge replied, looking a bit like the cat that got the cream. Minnie had certainly made a difference to his life and Rachel found herself envying her friend. Minnie was so lucky to have her husband at home, though of course he was a little above the age needed for the forces. ‘She told me to ask you for lunch this Sunday, Mrs Bailey – I do hope you can come?’
‘I should like that very much, Mr Stockbridge,’ Rachel said and smiled. Her weekends were often lonely now that she did not have the company of her young friends or her husband. If it were not for her work at Harpers, she would not have known what to do with herself.
‘I shall tell my wife to expect you.’
Rachel smiled inwardly as she moved on. He did so love saying that phrase – my wife!
Sally Harper’s secretary was busy typing, but she nodded to Rachel to go in. Rachel knocked at the door and was invited to enter. Sally was nursing her baby on her lap and looking at a sheaf of papers. She smiled as she saw who it was and held up her daughter to be seen before putting her back in her cot. Jenny gave a wail of displeasure at this but settled almost immediately.
‘Rachel, what can I do for you?’ Sally asked with the smile that made her so loved by most who knew her. Rachel reflected that there was so much joy in a smile and people often didn’t smile enough, especially since the war.
‘I just wondered if you’d heard from Mr Harper?’ she said with a lift of her brows.
‘No – not for more than two weeks,’ Sally Harper replied and her hand twitched nervously. She put her papers down, betraying her inner agitation. ‘What about you – it must be months since you heard, Rachel?’
Rachel smiled because Sally was a good friend and she’d never stuck to the rules about Christian names; she hadn’t when she was a sales assistant and she didn’t now she was the boss’s wife. Rachel relaxed. In Sally’s office she was off duty and could speak as a friend to the young woman she both admired and cared for deeply. ‘I had a batch of letters four weeks back, but they were out of date; delayed in the post it said on the envelope. So, I still don’t know if he’s all right…’
Rachel’s first marriage had ended with her husband’s painful illness and subsequent death. She had thought that she would never have a chance of happiness again but then she’d met William. Their relationship hadn’t gone smoothly at first but then she’d realised that she cared deeply for him and their marriage had been brief but happy.
‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’ Sally gave her a sympathetic look. ‘Have you time to take coffee with me?’
‘Yes please. I was hoping you might ask – if I’m not disturbing you?’
‘No, not at all,’ Sally said. ‘I do have loads of work to do, as we all do – but I could do with a break and we don’t talk enough.’
‘No, we don’t,’ Rachel agreed. ‘Beth is happy – she has Jack home for a few days.’
Sally frowned. ‘Considering what happened, he was lucky to get home, Rachel. It makes you wonder…’
‘Perhaps it is best not to,’ Rachel said with a little shudder. ‘I sometimes lie awake at night torturing myself and it does no good at all.’
‘No, of course it doesn’t,’ Sally agreed, ‘but we can’t help it, can we?’
‘No.’ Rachel bit her bottom lip and then straightened up, patting her upswept dark blonde hair into place. Her hair was very long now and she didn’t need padding as some other ladies did to achieve the full rounded style that she knew looked both smart and elegant, though William liked it when she took her hair down and let it fall to beyond her shoulders. ‘I refuse to give in to useless worry, Sally. I know that William will write when he can.’
‘He has probably sent you dozens of letters and they’ve all been delayed or gone astray,’ Sally agreed, showing her sympathy.
‘Yes.’ Rachel gave a wry laugh. ‘It doesn’t say much for our Government’s organisation skills if letters can go astray so easily, does it?’
‘No, but it seems to be that way. We’re holding our own at the moment over there. That’s what the papers say.’ The British had a firm blockade on German ports; not too long ago, the Navy had scored a victory with the sinking of the battleship Dresden and at Hoboken in Belgium two German submarines had been sunk. However, the Germans were sinking British ships too and to the ordinary citizen it was hard to know which way the war was going.
‘Can you believe a word they write?’ Rachel asked in a sceptical tone. She looked up as Ruth brought a tray of coffee in. ‘Thank you so much, Miss Canning.’
‘You’re welcome, Mrs Bailey. I’m afraid there are only plain biscuits, Mrs Harper – they didn’t send any chocolate ones this time…’
Sally grimaced as her secretary departed. ‘I particularly ordered chocolate and iced biscuits. Sometimes I wonder if they listen at all at that place.’
‘Maybe it is the
war,’ Rachel offered, but Sally shook her head.
‘No, I asked the manager if they still have chocolate ones and he assured me they have – it’s that dizzy secretary of his.’
‘I don’t mind a nice plain biscuit,’ Rachel said and laughed. ‘Not everyone is as well organised as your staff, Sally.’
‘No, that’s true,’ Sally murmured and looked pleased. ‘Oh, these are quite nice – they taste of almond.’
‘So, they do,’ Rachel said and smiled. ‘Thank goodness for you, Sally Harper. I’m not sure what I’d do if it were not for you, Beth and Harpers, and Maggie, of course. I’m worried about her. I hoped for a letter, but I’ve heard nothing since she left, have you?’
‘No – but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t written,’ Sally replied. ‘She’s the one out there in danger and hardship, but I sometimes think the women waiting at home in agony for news suffer most.’
‘Yes, very true,’ Rachel agreed, sighing. There was nothing harder than having to carry on as normal not knowing how the men one loved were managing over there. It was so unbearably lonely when one turned the key on the door at night and drew the curtains. When the Archduke of Hapsburg was assassinated, no one had thought that it would cause such a terrible conflict or that the war would drag on for so long. However, there was no use dwelling on her loneliness, so she smiled at Sally and said, ‘How are you getting on with your hospital work? I can’t imagine how you find the time to fit it all in.’
‘I can only visit now and then,’ Sally said regretfully. ‘Mr Alexander has taken two of our men to help them.’ She hesitated, then, ‘I usually visit on a Sunday. How would you like to come with me one week, Rachel? We could talk to the men, do whatever we can – and then have lunch if you’re free?’
‘I’ve been invited to lunch with Minnie this week,’ Rachel told her, ‘but I’d love to come another time, Sally – and yes, I think I should like to help out. I dare say I have more time than you do.’
‘We’ll go together the first time and then you can visit whenever you have the time.’ Sally smiled at her. ‘Please, do have more coffee, Rachel.’
‘No, I should get on now.’ Rachel stood to leave. ‘I will come with you to the hospital, Sally. I shall enjoy doing what I can.’
Rachel finished wrapping the new blue cardigan she’d made for Hazel that evening. She would have to drop her mother-in-law a line and let her know she wouldn’t be coming that weekend but would definitely see her the next. Most Sundays she asked her to lunch or went there to visit, because she’d known she would be alone – just like Rachel.
Rachel had read William’s last letters fifty times, knowing that his cheerful writing hid the loneliness and unease he was feeling. William wasn’t particularly enjoying his experience of Army life and she’d sensed it on his last visit home. He’d never been meant to be a soldier, which was why he’d become a Minister of Parliament – but patriotism had prompted him to volunteer and now he was enduring a life he did not care for, leaving Rachel alone in the home they shared and she wasn’t finding it easy after living with Maggie and her other friends for more than two years prior to her marriage.
She put the parcel for Hazel’s birthday to one side and reflected that fortunately at work she was busy and fulfilled. Harpers had had a really busy period over Christmas and the early spring was just as good, and though the first three weeks of April had been a little slower, if she was any judge, this week had picked up again. The stock levels were running at a lower level than Sally Harper liked, Rachel knew that, but there was nothing they could do about it. As yet they’d managed to keep their standards up and Rachel thought her friend had done very well. Whether she would be able to continue to keep the level of stock high enough in the future was a matter of conjecture. Rachel wouldn’t have changed places with her for double wages; it was just too big a problem.
She looked at the letter she’d read so many times before. There was no point in reading it again; it wouldn’t bring William home or tell her where he was and if he was still alive. Her heart caught with pain as she thought about the alternatives. Could he be injured and lying in hospital – but surely someone would have let her know? No news was better than one of those dreadful telegrams so many wives were receiving to say that their husbands were dead.
‘Oh, William,’ Rachel sighed. ‘I do wish you were here…’
She got up to make herself a cup of hot milky cocoa. Sitting here brooding wasn’t going to help her. She would take her drink up to bed and read a book. No point in feeling sorry for herself. Thousands of women all over the country were doing just the same as her, waiting for news and imagining the worst.
10
Sally had just finished feeding Jenny one evening a week or so later when she heard someone at the hall door. It was opening! Only one other person had a key to the apartment. It must be Ben! She’d heard nothing from him for at least three weeks, when he’d rung to say he was fine, and she’d been sick with worry, because normally he phoned every few days.
She jumped up and went rushing through to the hall, a flood of sheer relief charging through her as she saw Ben standing there. However, her first feeling of delight was muted a little as she saw that his arm was in a sling.
He came slowly towards her.
Instead of flinging herself on him to hug him, she held back warily, afraid of causing pain. ‘You’re hurt,’ she said, almost succeeding in keeping the tremble from her voice.
‘I was lucky. It is just a flesh wound,’ Ben said and smiled at her wearily. ‘One of the nurses bound it up for me. She said that it will be sore for a bit but I should get my own doctor to look at it when I could.’
‘Oh, Ben, my love…’ Sally’s voice caught in her throat as she moved closer and kissed him softly on the mouth. ‘Come and sit down. I’ve been so worried. We’ve missed you terribly. Was it very awful?’
‘It was a bit touch-and-go for a while,’ Ben admitted and then he grinned at her, looking much like a schoolboy caught out in mischief. ‘But we did it, Sally. We got the whole consignment through to the Front without losing any of it. We resupplied the whole line of field hospitals with all the supplies they’re so short of – and it was great, just as we planned.’ He looked hugely pleased with himself. ‘No one really believed it would work; they said it was a mad plan – but we did it.’
Sally cried and tears of mingled anger and relief trickled down her cheeks. ‘Damn you, Ben Harper! You promised me you would be here in London and safe…’
‘Well, now I shall – at least for a while,’ Ben said and looked at her contritely. ‘I need a bath, a sleep, and then food, in that order – will you forgive me, Sally, if I put you last for once?’
‘Idiot,’ she said, blinking back the stupid tears. She shouldn’t give way to tears. What did any of it matter as long as he was here, safe? ‘Do you want me to ask the doctor to call?’
‘I’m all right. Perhaps I’ll go to his surgery tomorrow,’ Ben replied with a yawn. ‘Draw a bath for me will you, love? I just want to look at Jenny. I’ve missed seeing her and you, Sally.’
‘I’ll run your water,’ Sally said, blinking back her tears, and left him to stand looking down at his daughter in her cot.
Her emotions were mixed, torn between relief and love, and anger that he’d put himself in danger. He was supposed to be masterminding the way supplies were delivered to the Front, not taking them out himself. And yet she knew that Ben would never hold back. If a dangerous but necessary job needed doing, Ben Harper would consider that it was his duty to go himself – and perhaps that was why she loved him so much.
‘It’s odd,’ he said as much to himself as her as she turned to head to the bathroom. ‘I thought I saw Marco at one of the field hospitals on the border. He was talking to a nurse, but he wasn’t wearing uniform.’ He frowned. ‘I waved and called his name, but one of the doctors wanted to speak to me and when I looked again, he’d gone. He was nowhere to be found and the nurse told me she’d
been speaking to a French nightclub artist. He’d come in because he’d had a slight accident.’
‘You must have been mistaken then,’ Sally said. ‘You were probably tired and saw what you wanted to see. He’s still training in Sussex.’
‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean…’ Ben shook his head, but still looked puzzled. ‘Like you said, I was tired. It was a harrowing trip and the end of a long day.’
‘You’ve done a wonderful job, Ben, but now you need to relax and let me look after you.’ She hovered at the bathroom door, wanting to linger but needing to run that bath for him. He smiled and looked down at his child.
‘Just what needed doing, Sally. We carried the banners of the Red Cross, but we didn’t use them. It was a case of sneaking in under cover of darkness, but we did it.’ His words dismissed what he’d achieved, but that was his way.
Sighing, Sally reflected on the cruelty of war and the way it affected everyone’s lives as she went into the bathroom and turned on the taps. Ben was never going to be content to sit at home while others were fighting for King and country. She would have to live with the possibility that Ben might not come back one day, just as Beth did, and so many others, all dreading the black-edged telegram. All the women who worked for Harpers had loved ones at the Front or preparing to go out there and Maggie was out there too, doing her bit – just like the nurse who had patched up Ben’s wound.
Sally brushed away her tears impatiently. They were all heroes: Maggie, her fellow nurses, out there risking their lives; her husband, Jack, Mick, Marion’s brothers and husband-to-be, Rachel’s husband, Tim and every other man who had volunteered to fight. That included Marco, who was training with the Army on the south coast. Ben couldn’t have seen him in France, because hardly any of the volunteer divisions had been sent to the Front yet, and that postcard had only just arrived, posted in Sussex.
She sighed as she swished the water round, spreading the scent from the lavender essence she’d added, and wishing that all of them could be safe at home and enjoying the lovely spring weather. She remembered the cheerful letter and gift that had come from Jenni for Ben’s birthday – Ben would want to see those when he was rested. Mick had also managed to send a postcard. At least Ben was here to share the lovely weather they were having at the moment. She would invite some of their friends to dinner one evening and make the most of the time they had together.