by Anne Bennett
‘Will you go?’ Doris asked.
Meg thought that strange because Doris wasn’t usually interested in anything she did, but she had asked pleasantly enough and so Meg said, ‘Oh, yes. She is such a lovely person and I am going to miss her so much when she goes off to the Land Army.’
‘Is that where she’s bound for?’ Doris said. ‘The Land Army. Wouldn’t that suit you too?’
‘Maybe,’ Meg said, and she lowered her head as she muttered, ‘Circumstances are different for Joy.’
Again she missed the look Doris gave Charlie, the look that said plainly, ‘You see, the family, and particularly Ruth, are stopping Meg doing what she wants.’ Charlie understood her perfectly. However upset Meg would be initially at Ruth’s been sent away, they were doing her a favour. Not that he wanted Meg leaving her home at such a young age. There were plenty of jobs she could do in Birmingham and still be around to give Doris a hand if she needed it.
THIRTEEN
On Friday morning, when Charlie said he was having the day off because there were some legal things he had to see to concerning the wedding, Meg, who took as little notice of the wedding as she could, wasn’t the least bit suspicious and went off to meet her friend unconcerned.
She hadn’t been gone more than half an hour when Charlie said to Jenny, ‘Get Ruth’s coat. I’m taking her out.’
Jenny stood stock-still on the floor and stared at her father. ‘But you never take her out.’
‘Well, today I’m going to,’ Charlie said.
Jenny felt concern prickle the back of her neck and she asked herself why that was. Wasn’t it a normal thing for a father to take his young daughter out for a walk? Perhaps, but not in their family. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said. ‘No, better still, I’ll tell the others and we’ll all go. We haven’t had a day out with you in ages.’
‘Have to be some other time,’ Charlie said. ‘Today I’m taking Ruth on her own.’
‘But Meg told me to care for her.’
‘I am her father, in case it has escaped your notice,’ Charlie said.
‘It certainly seems to have escaped yours.’ Jenny clapped her hand over her mouth because she hadn’t intended to let that slip out. She saw her father’s eyes smouldering with anger in a way she had never seen before. He was usually a mild-mannered man, but in that instant she was afraid of him.
‘Get Ruth’s coat,’ he said through gritted teeth and she ran to get it.
Ruth didn’t want to go with the man that, despite her tender years, she had learned to avoid and she struggled and cried. Even when he held her hand her other was stretched towards Jenny. Her eyes, awash with tears, were fastened on her elder sister’s and seemed to be begging her not to let her go as she cried out, ‘Jenny. Jenny. Want Meg.’
Exasperated, Charlie lifted her into his arms and stepped out on the pavement, and Jenny stood biting her lip to stop her crying because she didn’t know what was going on. Billy and Sally tumbled into the room. They both saw the flash of their father pass the window holding the threshing, protesting Ruth in his arms.
‘Where’s our dad taken Ruth?’ Billy asked.
‘God knows.’
‘He never takes Ruth anywhere,’ Sally said.
‘I know,’ Jenny said, ‘and it bothers me that he has just decided to do it now so I’m going to follow him and try and find out what he’s up to.’
‘And me,’ Billy said.
‘No, just me,’ Jenny insisted. ‘It wouldn’t do for him to know he’s being followed. You stay here. I shouldn’t be long.’
By the time Jenny was out on the street she saw her father turning down Bristol Passage and so she was able to hurry along Bell Barn Road to the top of the passage, where she followed more slowly. He went on to Bristol Street and she watched him wait at the tram stop, and a few minutes later she was flying down Bristol Street in the opposite direction.
Terry wasn’t that pleased to see Jenny because the shop was really busy, but Mr Drummond told Terry to have a word with his agitated sister because it could be important. Terry took Jenny into the stockroom at the back and when she blurted out that she was worried because their dad had taken Ruth out, Terry gave a low whistle.
‘That’s a turn-up for the books, ain’t it?’ he said.
‘He ain’t never done it before.’
‘I know.’ Terry said. ‘Maybe he’s had a change of heart.’
Jenny shook her head. ‘He was really strange, Terry,’ she said. ‘I suggested we all go with him ’cos you know he doesn’t know the least thing about Ruth, but he said no, and Ruth didn’t want to go with him anyway and she played up shocking. It really upset me seeing her crying and trying to pull away and calling for Meg.’
‘Where is Meg?’
‘Gone to meet Joy in town and that’s where Dad was heading with Ruth too, into town.’
‘Didn’t you ask him where he was going?’
‘He probably wouldn’t have told me,’ Jenny said. ‘Like I said, he was strange. But I didn’t expect him to get on a flipping tram, and Ruth was still roaring her head off.’
Terry had to admit it was concerning, but he refused to get worried about a man taking his young daughter out for the day. ‘There’s likely some simple explanation. Dad ignores Ruth, or has done up till now, but he wouldn’t harm her or anything, would he?’
‘No, I don’t suppose so.’
‘Well, then, wait until he comes back and I’m sure he will explain everything.’
But Charlie didn’t come back. Jenny made them all something to eat in the end, and still they waited. It was almost tea-time when Meg came home and Jenny was so glad to see her and yet a bit anxious in case she blamed her for letting Ruth go out with their father.
Meg was as concerned as anyone else but she didn’t blame her young sister. ‘What could you have done?’ she said. ‘You couldn’t have stopped him. But he will get the length of my tongue when he does decide to come home, worrying everybody like this.’
Meg’s words were said to help her sister, but she had a deep dread feeling inside that something was very badly wrong.
And then suddenly her father was standing in the threshold and he was alone.
‘Where’s Ruth?’ Meg shrieked at her father. ‘What have you done with her?’
Terry’s words of assurance that their father wouldn’t hurt Ruth rang hollowly in Jenny’s head as she cried, ‘Have you hurt Ruth?’
‘Of course not,’ Charlie said. ‘Ruth is where she should have gone long ago. I’ve placed her in a children’s home.’
‘You did what?’ Meg screamed. She was having trouble drawing breath as if the heart had been cut from her, like her worst nightmare coming true, the one thing she had dreaded and guarded against. It was too much, she couldn’t bear it and with an anguished cry she fell to the floor.
When her eyes flickered open she groaned as the memory of what her father had done returned to her. She closed her eyes again and wished she could pull up a mental drawbridge and retreat into herself so that no one could hurt her any more. ‘How are you feeling, my dear?’
Meg forced her eyes open to see she was lying in her father’s bed and her aunt Rosie was sitting on a chair beside her. ‘Aunt Rosie …’
‘I know it all, my dear.’
‘Why did he do it?’
‘He said he was thinking of you.’
‘I don’t believe that for a moment.’
‘He said he was giving you your life back and said something about your friend going into the Land Army and you wishing you could have gone with her.’
‘I never said that, and I was going to get a job here and a place to live, seeing that Doris doesn’t want me living at home.’
‘Did she actually say that?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Meg said. ‘And I was doing that to keep an eye on Ruth, for Doris cares as little for her as her own father and I was worried about her.’
‘Even so, it seems a grievous thing to have done, to put the
child into an orphanage when she has a family willing to care for her,’ Rose said. ‘Robert is raging about it because, as he said, surely between us all we could care for one small child. We will all feel the loss of her but yours will be the greater.’ Rose gave her niece’s hand a squeeze.
Meg eyes were deadened and her words seemed wrung from her very soul as she said, ‘There are no words to tell you how I feel, but it is as if a part of me is missing and the pain of losing that part is agonising. I suppose there is no chance of getting her back?’
Rose knew there was little chance once a child was in the system, but instead of answering directly she said, ‘I’ll tell you what I know. According to your father, the first place Ruth will be sent to is the Children’s Hospital to be examined and make sure she is healthy and carrying no infectious diseases.’
‘And then?’
‘Then, as we are Catholics, she will be sent to Maryville Orphanage in a place called Kingstanding, which is run by the Sisters of Mercy.’
‘And once she is there, can I visit?’
Rose shook her head. ‘They say no. It just upsets them.’
‘I’m never going to see her again, am I?’ Meg said plaintively, and then the tears came in a torrent and great gulping sobs like a paroxysm of grief. Rose relinquished Meg’s hand, gathered her into her arms and rocked her, crooning softly as she had done to her own children, quite understanding Meg’s agony for she felt tears prickling behind her own eyes.
All evening Meg was left in bed and treated as if she was ill and she didn’t care because she could work up no desire to get up. She was brought a meal she was too upset to eat and numerous cups of tea by Jenny, who was as heavy-eyed as Meg was. She held herself somehow responsible for what had happened, despite many reassurances from Meg, and, wrapped in her sister’s arms, she shed bitter tears.
Eventually, though, she was calmer and said, ‘Dad said we won’t miss Ruth that much because we’re going to be evacuated.’
That was no surprise to Meg, and Jenny went on, ‘They say they send you to the country. I ain’t never been there, so I don’t know if I’ll like it or not.’
‘You will, I should think,’ Meg said. ‘It gets you away from Doris and that’s got to be good.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Jenny said with a wobbly grin. ‘That might be the only good thing about it.’
All the children came to see Meg. Last of all was Terry, who said he had wiped the floor with his father that night.
‘I don’t blame you,’ Meg said, ‘but what am I to do now? I feel like I’ve been sort of cast adrift.’
‘Listen to me,’ Terry said, holding his sister’s shoulders and looking deep into her eyes. ‘I don’t agree for one minute with what Dad did, nor that he has arranged and signed the forms for the kids’ evacuation, but he has done it and it can’t be undone, so you have only yourself to think about. So why don’t you go for the Land Army like Jenny tells me your friend is doing? It will get you away from this place and that pair.’
‘It is tempting,’ Meg said. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive Dad for this and I know Doris will have had a hand in it.’
‘Probably her idea,’ Terry said. ‘Most things are.’
‘Probably was,’ Meg said with a heavy sigh. ‘Tell you the truth I can hardly bear to think about them, never mind talk to them or look at their smug faces, but with the evacuation the kids will have new things to think about and they won’t miss me for long.’
‘No,’ Terry said, ‘and I never thought I would say this, but I think it’s better if the kids are evacuated away from that she devil.’
‘I think so, too,’ Meg said. ‘Where’s Dad now?’
‘At Doris’s,’ Terry said, ‘and Uncle Robert said he can stay there. He says from what he hears he spends enough nights there already so a few more won’t hurt and he is not to come round here and upset you.’
‘Oh, I’m glad,’ Meg said with a sigh of relief. ‘I wondered how I would face him.’
‘Well, you won’t have to,’ Terry said. ‘Not yet awhile.’
However, Meg found she couldn’t just walk away from Ruth, and the next morning she asked Rosie to go with her to the Children’s Hospital to see if Ruth was still there. Rosie agreed readily, intending to tell whoever was in charge that Ruth had a loving family waiting to welcome her home.
They hit a solid brick wall. The hospital authorities wouldn’t even verify that Ruth was there and both were told pointedly that her father had freely given the child into the care of the Social Services and that was where she would stay.
Meg was tearful on the way home, but this setback strengthened her resolve.
‘I must leave here,’ she told her aunt. ‘It would be worse in a way if I stopped here, being so close to Ruth and not able to see her, and at the moment I can’t look at Dad and Doris.’
‘You can stay with us if you like,’ Rose said. ‘We’d love to have you, you know that.’
‘Thanks, Aunt Rosie,’ Meg said. ‘But it has to be a more permanent solution and I have made up my mind to apply to join the Land Army. Tonight I will write a long letter to Joy telling her everything, and much as I would like to stay with you while the formalities are completed I think the kids need me to be there as much as possible until I have to leave. They have lost a sister, too.’
But when Meg began the letter she found she couldn’t write about what her father had done to her youngest sister and she said only that as it was obvious the children were going to be evacuated. Her way was clear to go into the Land Army.
Though Joy was delighted to hear that Meg was going to try for the Land Army after all, she knew she was holding something back. She never mentioned Ruth, which was odd. But she had said that Doris had talked about going to work in munitions because it paid better than sewing parachutes, and nursery places were given as priority to the children of working mothers so Doris probably had that in hand.
Joy explained the enlistment procedure and Meg went to Thorp Street Barracks to sign the necessary forms and arranged to have a medical.
The day of the interview, in early August, was warm and sunny. Meg stood at the bottom of the white marble steps leading up to the Council House, looking up at the imposing building. She had never been inside before, but now she ran up the steps and opened one of the two large studded wooden doors that gleamed in the sunlight.
She gasped as she stepped inside for it was an impressive place; an intricate and very beautiful glass chandelier hung from the ornate ceiling and her feet sank into a thick carpet that led to a desk at the back, in the alcove of the wide sweep of a staircase. It seemed a long walk to the desk, with her feet making no sound.
She presented her appointment letters to an incredibly smart girl. She had her fair hair caught in a bun at the back of her neck and her face was heavily made up, but her smile was genuine enough as she bid her go up the steps to the waiting room situated on the first floor. The stairs were as heavily carpeted as the reception hall, and the stair rods and banister burnished brass, and at the top of the stairs was a beautiful arched window and another chandelier.
There was already quite a cluster of girls waiting, and more joined them as Meg sat on one of the benches against the wall. They all looked at one another self-consciously. They were an assorted bunch, Meg thought: girls of all shapes and sizes, and mostly fairly young, though Meg guessed that none was as young as she.
The woman at Thorp Street Barracks had asked her age. She had thought of lying, but knew she would be found out as she had to bring her birth certificate to the interview, so she had told the truth and the woman had shaken her head.
‘They may not take you,’ she had warned. ‘They are not as strict as the services and will take girls of seventeen sometimes – but sixteen, I don’t know. All girls under eighteen have to get permission from a parent anyway. Will that be difficult?’
It would be very hard to get her father to agree, Meg knew, but Doris would sign anything tha
t would get Meg out of her hair and so she said, ‘No, that won’t be a problem.’
‘They might take you with that then,’ the woman had said, handing over the forms. ‘Best of luck.’
Well, forewarned is forearmed, Meg had thought at the time, but sitting in the room with the others she felt the confidence that had got her this far dribbling away.
Another girl, seeing the look on her face, whispered, ‘Are you nervous as well?’
‘A bit.’
‘I think everyone is a little,’ said the girl the other side of Meg. ‘Bound to be, because we don’t really know what we are letting ourselves in for.’
‘You know nothing about farming then?’
‘Does anyone round here?’ the first girl said.
‘Don’t see as that matters,’ another said. ‘We’ll have to be shown what to do, that’s all. My chap knows nowt about killing folk, but he’ll have to learn same as everyone else.’
‘Well, that’s true enough.’
‘So why did you choose farming?’ Meg asked the first girl.
‘Do my bit, I suppose.’
Others chipped in. A few would have preferred to join one of the armed services but were prevented by parents, and in one case because a young husband objected. More than one was willing to join anything to put some distance between herself and a tyrannical father. As many reasons as there are girls here, Meg thought as the interviews began and the first girl was called in.
It was just the one woman in the room, Meg saw, when it was her turn. She was very smart and spoke dead posh, as if she had a load of marbles in her mouth. Meg was glad the woman at Thorp Street Barracks had warned her what would happen when she saw the posh woman scrutinising her birth certificate before saying, ‘You are very young, only sixteen. Too young and small to be of any use, I feel.’
‘I am only sixteen,’ Meg said, ‘but I’m not that small and I am very strong and not afraid of hard work either. When my mother died giving birth to my youngest sister, I took then all on – my other two sisters and my two brothers and the baby.’