by Mary Wood
‘I wouldn’t agree with you on it all being grand, as you put it, Flo, but I must confess I’m curious myself.’
‘By, Belinda, I wish I could talk like you. I knaw as it were a test, but that constant picking up on me vowels and sayings did unnerve me. What this lot down in London’ll make of me, I dread to think.’
‘I think they will love you. Besides, I’m sure they will be more interested in your knowledge and aptitude, so just be your lovable self.’
It felt strange to be hearing this, or even to think of herself as mates with someone of Belinda’s standing. Belinda’s father was a scientist, but Flo suspected that her family were related to royalty or some such, with the way she spoke and the things she spoke of – like owning horses and having maids. Belinda had also told her that the family’s ‘pile’, as she referred to her home, was in Kent and that part of their house had been requisitioned by the government to be used as billets for those training to be pilots. She’d made Flo laugh with the way she viewed this: ‘Trust me to have left home by then, to study mathematics at Oxford. Imagine living in close proximity with all those males!’
Belinda was here now because she’d had a sudden urge to give up her studies for the time being and do something towards the war effort. She chose the Wrens because she wanted to go to sea, but it didn’t seem likely that she would. If Flo knew anything, Belinda was heading for the same place as her, Bletchley Park. Eeh, I hope so; it’ll be grand to have her with me.
Around them people jostled for a better position on the platform. A mother with young children tried to quieten them, but her efforts were lost as the baby showed the good set of lungs she had. Trains chugged into the station, clouding them in smoke that stung Flo’s nostrils and made her eyes run. A soldier clung to his girlfriend, while a tearful woman, probably his mam, patted his back. Flo longed for him to take just one arm from his girl and put it around the little woman.
At last the disembodied voice that echoed out announcements said the word ‘London’, after listing what sounded like a hundred other stops for the train now standing at platform one.
‘Eeh, that’s us, Belinda.’ Flo’s excitement increased as she picked up her rucksack and surged forward with the rest of the crowd, but they didn’t make much progress and found themselves with no seats. ‘So much for being polite – they’re like a herd of cattle!’
‘Ha, I know I told you not many minutes since to be your lovable self, but I didn’t mean to the point of letting everyone get on the train first, you goose.’
They laughed together as they settled down to sit on their rucksacks in the draughty corridor.
Flo’s stomach rumbled almost as loudly as the train as it pulled out of the station. Standing up and rummaging in her rucksack, she found the sandwiches and flask that had been put inside for her.
‘Don’t eat it all at once, Flo. I know you have a huge appetite, but it’s a very long way to London. That has to be your lunch, dinner and supper.’
‘I’ll just have a bite. I were that thrilled, and yet sad, to be leaving the camp that I couldn’t eat much breakfast.’
‘I know. It was sad to say goodbye to the others. I wonder where they’ll all land up. Or where we will, for that matter. Special training in London. Sounds like it’s a real possibility that we could be sent overseas as spies or something. That’d be top-hole.’
Flo just nodded. She’d long realized that she should say nothing about what she knew, which, though it was very little, was enough to make listening ears curious. She didn’t want that to happen. Whatever took place at Bletchley, she knew it must be something very important, so she thought it best not to mention that the place even existed. She’d never even mentioned her friends Simon, Roland and Lucinda, in case knowing that she had friends of their standing had led to questions. This thought caused her to think of any free time she might get over the next two weeks. It’d be grand if I got to see Lucinda while I’m in London. And Eunice – I wonder how Eunice’s nurse’s training is going; she were struggling when she last wrote. Pauline came to her mind, too, and Flo thought of the day she’d met Pauline and helped her to her mam’s with her pram and her young ’uns. She’d often worried about Pauline and decided she’d go along and catch up with her, if she got the chance.
Belinda cut into her thoughts. What she said felt as if she’d read Flo’s mind. ‘What are you thinking of doing if we have some free time in London, Flo?’
‘I – I don’t knaw.’
‘I have a cousin who lives in Holland Park, she’s a bit of a social animal, but great fun. I thought we could go and stay with her. She would love you, and she would certainly take us to the best shows.’
‘No, ta. It’s good of you, but I couldn’t intrude. I’ve been to London afore, thou knaws. Me ex-tutor took me . . . I – I mean, a few of us. He wanted us to broaden our horizons.’ She hated fibbing like this and decided to tell Belinda the truth about visiting Simon and Lucinda, if Belinda ever found out about Bletchley. But for now it was better not to mention anything that might lead her to slip up and mention it. ‘Don’t even say you’ve heard of the place,’ Simon had said, and she couldn’t let him down.
Bending the truth, Flo told Belinda about meeting Pauline during her free time on the trip with her tutor, and how she worried about her; and about Eunice, who’d been a handful at Mrs Leary’s, but had turned out really well, once she was shown love. ‘Anyroad, I intend to look them both up and see how they’re faring.’
‘I’ll come with you. Meeting someone like Pauline, who’s experienced the Blitz first-hand, and Eunice, who’s changed her life around, will be top-hole.’
Her fear of not getting the chance to see Lucinda, if Belinda tagged along, and her indignation for Pauline and Eunice made Flo snap, ‘They’re not a sideshow, Belinda! They’ve both been emotionally hurt. Pauline had hardly owt left of her belongings, besides not having her husband to support her, as he’s somewhere in France. And Eunice had been abused for years. She didn’t trust anyone, and didn’t know what it were like to be loved until she came to the house where I was being looked after.’
‘Oh, Flo, forgive me. I meant nothing like that. I did sound heartless, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, old thing. You have the right name, you know: Florence. You take after your namesake in how you care about the less fortunate. It’s part of why I love you.’
‘Aw, I shouldn’t have yelled you out. I’m sorry. I am a bit fierce, when it comes to defending them as have nowt. Of course you can come. But you have to be prepared for what you see, where Pauline’s concerned; she don’t exactly live in Buckingham Palace.’
‘I think it best that I don’t. I’ll go and see my cousin and you can go on your mercy mission. How’s that?’
Not wanting to protest, Flo just nodded.
The first few days in London flew by. On the evening of the third day Flo met up with Eunice. She’d managed to get a message to her, and Eunice had phoned the digs where Flo and Belinda were billeted in and arranged the visit.
‘Eeh, Eunice lass, it’s good to see thee. You look well, an’ all.’
For a moment Flo felt worry enter her that all wasn’t well for Eunice, as her response was a tight, forced smile. But within seconds Eunice widened it to her usual dazzling smile, which lit up her face. On seeing this, Flo relaxed.
‘It’s good to see you, an’ all, Flo. Look at you: that uniform really suits you. You’re here in training, aren’t you? Anything you can talk about?’
They were sitting in a cafe across the road from the hospital in Endell Street. ‘Afraid not, as I don’t knaw meself yet – probably some boring office job or another. I’ve had to learn to touch-type in double-quick time, so that tells you sommat.’
‘How’s life treating you, other than the war? Any young men on the horizon?’
‘Naw. What about you?’
Again Flo had the feeling Eunice was skirting around something and keeping the conversation light. For a moment there was an awkw
ardness between them, until Flo brought up some memories of their time with Mrs Leary. Once more Eunice’s smile lit up her lovely round face and put dimples in her cheeks. Her hair, always unruly, fell across her face. She brushed it back and the sunlight caught it. It wasn’t a dissimilar colour to Flo’s chestnut locks, only a little more ginger. ‘They were the happiest times of my life, Flo. At least when I settled down. I gave you and Mrs Leary some hard times before then.’
‘You did. But Mrs Leary understood, and she helped me to, so we got through it.’
The chatter went on and on in this vein. Flo became increasingly uncomfortable. ‘Look, lass, there’s sommat not reet with you. What is it?’
‘Oh, nothing. Just tired. Air raids night after night, and a workload more than I’m trained for as yet. I just feel out of me depth. I’m having to catch up with schoolwork on the run, too, as I need qualifications in English . . . Oh, I don’t know. Bitten off more than I can chew, I suppose.’
Happy with this, as she could relate to the feeling of being plunged into a strange world, Flo suggested that they walk a little way in the direction of Flo’s digs. ‘That’s if you have the time, of course?’
Once outside, Eunice linked arms with Flo. ‘You know, although I made trouble, you were like a sister to me, and still are.’
‘Ta, love. That’s a compliment I’ve been paid twice now.’ She told Eunice about Kathy.
‘Bless her. I know how it feels, as you do, to be suddenly thrust into a home like none you’ve known and to try to settle. It’s as if you’re not worthy of it and someone will take it away from you.’
‘Is that how it was for you?’
‘Yes. I came from hell. Me mam didn’t care about me. She knew what me dad was up to, but she was just relieved that he didn’t want to bother her, once he started on me. And then there was the baby . . .’
This shocked Flo. ‘What baby? Eunice? Oh naw.’
‘Yes. Me dad made me pregnant. It was taken from me. Well, I was only a kid meself. But I saw it, and loved it. A little girl. She’d be ten now. I pray every day that she went to a good and kind couple who love her.’
Flo put her arm around Eunice and pulled her to her. ‘Eeh, lass. I don’t knaw what to say.’
Eunice straightened up and dried her eyes. ‘There’s nothing you can say. But I can. I want to thank you. Since knowing you, I’ve loved you deeply, Flo. And you’ve never let me down. Not even when I was a pain in the backside. Keep safe, Flo. And keep in touch.’
‘Of course I will.’ It was there again, that feeling Flo couldn’t put her finger on. And the look that Eunice had given her when she’d told her she loved her. It was intense. Oh, I don’t knaw, nothing’s like it was. I’m most likely imagining things.
Once back in her digs, there was no time even to think about her meeting with Eunice. The siren sounding reminded her of what Eunice went through – as did all Londoners – night after night, and had been doing since early September. How did they cope? How? Gathering her things, Flo didn’t relish another night in the cellar, even though the people who ran these digs had made it very comfortable. It felt, somehow, like a tomb to Flo. It was the not knowing what was happening above that caused this feeling, though Belinda kept her sane with tales of her life when she was a girl at boarding school. It seemed that Belinda got into all sort of scrapes, and most of them had Flo splitting her sides with laughter.
It was the following weekend, after a very strange but interesting week of learning about codes and methods of breaking them, and how messages were intercepted, when Flo stepped off the train at Vauxhall station and into the arms of the waiting Lucinda. Strange because nothing was said about why they would need the knowledge that the training centre had made them take on board. Nevertheless, Flo had found it all fascinating, as had Belinda. They’d even practised making up coded messages for each other to decipher.
‘Come on then, tell me all you’ve been doing, old thing.’ Lucinda held Flo away from her.
‘Eeh, I wish I could. I’m bursting with information, but none of it is for anybody’s ears. Just to say I’m enjoying every minute.’
‘Well, that’s something we can tell Simon. He’s ringing tonight. He’s really mad that he can’t get time off to come and see you, but I’m not. I need you all to myself.’
This wasn’t said in a jovial way, and Flo was hit by the same sensation she’d felt about Eunice. ‘Are you all reet, Lucinda? You sounded a bit – eeh, I don’t knaw, but you weren’t yourself when you phoned. Is sommat up, lass?’
‘Well . . . Look, let’s go into the Victorian Tea Room. We can have a chat.’
Sensing that Lucinda had something to get off her chest, and that it might take some time, Flo worried she might not make it to Pauline’s.
‘Would you mind if we talked back at yours, Lucinda? Only I hoped I could make a call on the way. You remember that lass I told you of, the one I met on the bridge that day? I wanted to drop in on her and see how she were doing.’
‘Yes, of course. Sorry, I’m so desperate to talk to someone. Look, I’ll leave you at our street and go home and make us some tea there. I’ll take your bag with me. Take your time . . . No, I mean be as quick as you can, or I might lose my nerve and not tell you.’
At this, Flo regretted putting Lucinda off, but if she didn’t call on Pauline now, then her chance would be gone, as she had to catch a train early in the morning. She and Belinda only had twenty-four hours of freedom, and both had so much to pack into that time. They planned to meet at Westminster tube station in the morning and take a taxi from there back to their training office to complete their training, before they were thrown into the wide world to do their war bit.
As she walked to Pauline’s mother’s house, Flo couldn’t get Lucinda out of her mind. It worried her how poorly Lucinda looked. By, what with her and Eunice, I feel as though I’m being torn in two. She made her mind up to make her visit to Pauline a short one. Just as long as she knew how Pauline was and whether she needed anything, that’s all that mattered.
Around her there had been further destruction: piles of rubble where once a building had stood, and other buildings with their guts torn from them, now looking for all the world as if they were begging her for help. Broken windows reflecting the sun gave the impression of tear-filled eyes. Blackened walls stood as if their spirit wasn’t completely destroyed, even though smoke curled from their insides. The stench of broken sewage pipes mixed with that of the smoke and sulphur. Flo wriggled her nose against the fetid air. Her heart went out to those who were suffering so much.
How she’d become used to the air raids was a wonder, but in just a week of spending half of each night down the cellar, she had. Although one night had been different. She and Belinda had gone out to the pub just down the road, thinking they’d be back in plenty of time, but the raid had begun early and had caught them out. They’d run to a tube station and found they had a hundred or so Londoners for companions. A sing-song had started up and they’d joined in. She’d learned songs like ‘Show me the way to go home’ and ‘Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do’. Ha, I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed meself like that.
The Salvation Army workers were down there with their huge lidded milk churns full of hot soup. The thought came to Flo that she’d never tasted anything so delicious in all her life, though part of her felt disloyal to Mrs Leary even for thinking this.
With Mrs Leary coming to her mind, Flo felt an ache in her heart. How she missed her and Kathy and Mr Leary. But it wouldn’t be long now and she would be able to spend a couple of days with them. Her hand went to her pocket and felt the crumpled letter she’d received. She’d been given a PO Box-number address and had been told that all mail should be sent to it. She’d been warned that it would be opened and read, before it was passed on to her, as would her own mail to others, which had to be sent to the same address before it was forwarded.
Mrs Leary’s letter, and one from Kathy, had been the fir
st she’d received up in Glasgow, and that had been two weeks after they had been sent to her. Mrs Leary’s had begged for news and told Flo how worried they all were about her. As soon as she could, she’d telephoned Roland and asked him to assure them both that she was fine and was really enjoying herself, and that she would write as soon as possible. She’d since written the promised letters. Both long, and both full of fibs. She’d woven a whole lot of funny tales around a pretend existence in an office where she said she processed orders for military clothing. She’d even made up colleagues she worked with, and told stories of their goings-on. Roland had been shown a letter by a laughing Mrs Leary, and the next time she’d phoned he’d told Flo that she had a gift for telling tales and he thought she should take up writing. ‘Your imagination is quite something, Flo,’ he’d said. ‘You could write a book.’
‘Eeh, stop taking the rise out of me,’ she’d told him, but he’d become serious and told her he meant every word.
‘Your letter to Kathy read like a children’s story. You have a talent for it.’ This had pleased her; she didn’t know why. Thinking of Kathy now, she just wanted to run to her and gather her in her arms and felt pleased that the girl sounded settled and happy. Her letter was full of her school life, her friends and how she wanted to be a Wren, too, when she grew up. Mrs Leary had worked her magic once more.
Turning into Pauline’s street, Flo was met with an astonished ‘It ain’t . . . It is you. You’re back again then, girl? And look at you. That uniform suits you.’ Pauline was standing leaning on her gate. Although she was alone, she didn’t present a picture of sadness, which lifted Flo.
‘Aye, I told you I’d come and look you up. I’ve been wondering how you’re managing?’
‘I’m doing all right. It’s nice to see yer. Come in and have a cup of tea, girl. I’ve got me mum’s place all shipshape, and she’s been sober since I moved in, an’ all. It’s working out fine – we’re company for each other.’