Brighter Days Ahead

by Mary Wood

  Brushing these thoughts away, Flo told him about Belinda’s plans for a drama and music society. ‘She asked if you can sing or act. And, if so, would you be interested in joining them? I am.’

  ‘Crikey, she’s a girl who doesn’t sit on her laurels long, isn’t she? After three days she’s sorted all this out? Good for her, though I hope she isn’t a compulsive organizer who takes over our lives.’

  ‘No, Belinda’s nothing like that. She just gets on with things.’

  ‘Good. Well, yes, I’ll join in. Why not – it could be fun. I’m not a great singer, though I can hold a tune. But acting . . . I actually love acting, and really enjoyed the couple of roles I took on at university. I had great acclaim in the local press.’

  ‘Eeh, that’s grand.’

  ‘Oh, Flo, I love how you say that. It makes everything seem a lot better than it is.’

  ‘As Mrs Leary says, “Life is what you make of it. If you’re knocked down, you get up again – it’s the only way.”’

  ‘Mrs Leary is a wise woman. By the way, Flo, what are you doing when we’re off-duty for a couple of days next week? I thought I would go up and see Roland. Would you like to come?’

  ‘Naw, but ta for asking. I want to go up to London and help out. I can’t get that Molly out of me head. I’ll call in on Pauline and see if I can help her. She might knaw sommat about Molly, or where she stays.’

  ‘Ha, I doubt it. London’s not Leeds, you know. You’re funny, Flo. A mile and half in London is like a hundred elsewhere. People don’t even know their next-door neighbours. I should think, at a guess, that Molly lives in and works out of somewhere in the Soho area, and that might as well be Timbuctoo, as far as people who live in my area are concerned.’

  ‘By, that’d be a place to start, then. If I went there I might find someone as knaws her.’

  ‘No. I emphatically forbid you to go to that area looking for her.’

  This pulled Flo up. ‘You forbid me? Eeh, that’s taking sommat on.’

  ‘Beg of you, then. As someone who loves you very much, I beg you not to go to that district, Flo. You don’t know Soho; it is notorious.’

  The feeling that shot through Flo, at Simon saying this, had to be suppressed even to allow her to breathe. Luckily their stew was delivered to the table at that moment, causing a distraction that allowed Flo to cover how she felt. ‘I won’t go there, I promise. But I will ask them as come to the van. Prostitutes, and the like. Someone must know Molly and could get a message to her. She needs help, and if I can give it, I will.’

  ‘Yes, Florence.’

  They both laughed at this and the mood between them lightened.

  As it turned out, the flat did have two bedrooms, and large ones at that. Flo was seeing the inside for the first time and liked what she saw. ‘Eeh, it’s grand, and the station is just down the road, an’ all. That’ll be handy for trips to London.’

  ‘Yes, and it’s one of the reasons Bletchley Park was chosen for the purpose it has. Proximity to a railway means signals, which need lots of telephone wires. Hooking into them is jolly handy.’

  There was a view of the rail track through the window of the room she and Belinda stood in and had earmarked as their bedroom. They’d already discussed the need for a third person to share, to make it viable for them. Flo broached the subject again, now that she’d seen the layout. The second bedroom was separated from this one by a hallway. A bathroom and the kitchen led off this, then at the other end of the flat was a sitting room.

  ‘How would you feel if I asked Simon to be the third tenant, Belinda? I knaw as you’ve not met him yet, but he’s easy to get on with, and given how this place is, with the bedrooms set apart, we’d still have privacy.’

  Belinda liked the idea. ‘A great choice. Three women might just be too many, though I don’t fancy Simon’s chances of bagging the bathroom.’ They giggled at this. ‘And, you know, it won’t help his standing at the park, but I expect he’s thought of that.’

  Belinda has heard, then? Not that it seems to bother her, and she’s heard similar before and it hasn’t put her off.

  At that moment, a whistle sounded from an approaching train, the noise of it as it rattled by filling the space around them.

  ‘By, Belinda, we’ll have to get used to that! Though I’ve heard tell that folk who live on a railway embankment soon don’t notice the sounds.’

  ‘Let’s hope that’s true. What if we were on midnight-to-eight and trying to sleep in the day?’

  ‘I want to take a chance on it. What about you?’ Flo crossed her fingers as she waited for Belinda to answer.

  ‘I’m in. Anything has got to be better than Woburn. And if Simon doesn’t like it, I have a friend who might.’

  Flo prayed that Simon would like it, as she was unsure what this other friend of Belinda’s might be like.

  In the little cafe down the road they talked about furniture and other arrangements. Flo could hardly contain her excitement.

  ‘That’s all settled, then. We’ll let the landlord know we’ll take it and we’ll pay our deposit on pay-day. Now, Flo, the concert group. Because of our work schedules, we can’t make a set time to meet and rehearse every week, but we’re arranging the first one for Monday evening after the four o’clock shift ends, and all interested parties should attend, if they can. Any chance you can?’

  ‘Aye, I can make that, as I’m on the night-shift and then on leave, after I come off-shift that morning. I can have a rest, then come in and catch a train to London. I’ll ask Simon to attend, but he might want to get off to Leeds earlier than that.’

  ‘Right-o. Then we’ve decided that, after each meeting, we’ll sort out which is the best time for the next one, by how many can attend at a specific time. Petulia has a production lined up for us, as she has enough musicians to form a small orchestra.’

  ‘Ooh, it’s exciting. What’s she got lined up?’

  ‘The Wizard of Oz. I’ve put you forward to play Dorothy.’

  ‘What! No, I can’t. I saw that at the flicks. Eeh, I’m too old to play Dorothy.’

  ‘Well, we all are. But I’ve looked at all those that have volunteered and none looks anything like Dorothy, but you do, with your long hair and perky nose. And you can sing. Please say yes.’ With this, Belinda burst into singing the chorus of ‘Somewhere over the rainbow’.

  The few people in the cafe applauded her when she’d finished, and Belinda – being Belinda – bowed to her audience.

  Flo thought her sides would burst with laughter. ‘Eeh, you’re a card. A real card.’

  Somehow life in Bletchley, and in general, suddenly seemed better. Flo was full of hope. She had the prospect of a nice place to live; she loved her work; she had Belinda and Simon; and now this new interest. By, she never thought she’d be on the stage!

  Her thoughts soon prodded her back to her worries, as she cycled back to her billet. How could she possibly keep Simon safe? And what about Eunice and Molly? If only she could make things right for them all. Because, no matter how much she told herself that she mustn’t take everyone’s plight on her own shoulders, she couldn’t stop herself. As soon as she could, on Tuesday morning, she’d get in touch with Eunice and see if she had her results and what they were. What she would do if they were bad, she didn’t know. After that she’d find Pauline and sort out working on the van with her, and she could only hope that somehow she would get in contact with Molly. Getting Molly off her mind was proving difficult, and she knew she had to try and help her somehow. Though God knew what she could do.

  20

  Molly

  Finding Help

  Was that a shooting star? Molly gazed up through the gaping hole in the roof of this bombed-out house, where she’d spent her time since escaping the brothel. The clear sky above, though wondrous, was like a sequinned blanket of fear, as on such a clear night as this the Luftwaffe were bound to visit. When would it end?

  Easing her stiff body off the cold remains of an
inner wall, Molly pulled her blanket around her. Though damp now, it still afforded some warmth. She didn’t know how many days had passed. All of them had merged together. Most had been spent in a haze of crying when awake, and when asleep in terrifying dreams of ugly men with fat bodies plucking pieces of her until she was just a skeleton. Through it all, excruciating pain assailed her.

  A fit of coughing seized her. Her chest hurt and she wondered if she was getting pneumonia, as poor Ruby had done. She didn’t want to die. Somehow she must find the strength to get out of here and seek help.

  Feeling her way back down into the cellar, where she’d spent most of her time, she groped around in the darkness, making for the corner where she’d hidden the money she’d brought with her. Nothing! Oh God, where is it? I know I put it behind this broken pipe. I know I did. Searching frantically along the wall to the opposite corner, she ran her fingers all round the area once more, thinking she might have the wrong corner, but there weren’t even any pipes there. Help me. Oh God, help me. I have to have money!

  Exhausted after finding nothing in any of the corners, Molly flopped down on the bottom step of the cellar. Defeated and in despair, she tried to think what could have happened to her stash. Even the cardigan she’d wrapped it in was gone. Someone must have sought shelter down here and found her money. Maybe they had even watched her come down here with her bag and gas mask. My bag!

  Finding strength from somewhere, Molly renewed her search, shuffling over every inch of the small space in the hope of kicking against her bag. Tripping on some debris, she cried out in agony as she landed heavily on the ground. But then she knew a moment of hope as her hand landed on her gas mask. Pulling it to her, she patted the ground around it. At last she had to accept that her bag had gone, as the two had been together, next to where she’d lain down. Tears of frustration stung her eyes. Everything she had in the world had been taken.

  After a moment of thinking through what she could do, she decided to go back up the steps to the ground floor of the house. She’d heard water running up there. At least she could get a drink and try to wash herself as best she could.

  Once in the only part of the room that still stood, Molly could see better. The full moon lit the area around her. Taking stock of herself, she could see that at least the coat she had on still looked reasonable, if a little crumpled.

  Walking carefully, she followed the sound of the water. Gushing from a broken pipe and sparkling in the moonlight, the flow resembled a waterfall. After drinking her fill and easing the discomfort of her dry, cracked lips, Molly braved putting her head under it, to rinse her hair and face. She felt as if she’d been plunged into an ice-bucket, and had to force herself to stay there long enough to remove the clinging dirt from her. When this was done, she took off her coat and other garments. Most had kept fairly clean, from being covered by the blanket, though she knew she couldn’t wear her knickers again; she’d just have to go without. Luckily, the skirt Trixie had ready for her to change into, on the day she’d left, had been a long one that reached to her calves.

  Stepping under the water was something she couldn’t subject her shivering body to, but she did her best by catching handfuls of water to rub over herself, to freshen and clean herself as much as she could. Now she had to avoid touching anything, as everywhere was blackened and charred. It wasn’t easy to get her clothes back over her wet body, or to squeeze her swollen feet back into her shoes, but she managed it, after a struggle. The effort warmed her and gave her some comfort. Once dressed, she ran her tongue over her coated teeth and thought to use the trick she’d told Ruby of: cleaning them with soot.

  She only had her finger to use as a brush, but she wiped it along the nearest wall and used the residue to rub her teeth. The taste was of stale smoke, and it took several rinses to remove the tang. The effect was good, though, because now her teeth at least felt less coated.

  Though weak with hunger, Molly climbed over the rubble and managed to get outside onto the pavement. A blacked-out world met her. The houses and skeletons of buildings showed no light, and no street lamps were lit, though a few cars passed by with dimmed lights, and there were still some people making their way in the moonlight to whatever destination summoned them. At last she arrived at the corner where she’d met the ARP warden and the firemen. She hoped against hope she would find the warden’s house. But what she discovered was utter devastation.

  A gaping hole a few yards into the road had a smashed bus protruding from it. The sight undid Molly, and she slumped against the bottom half of a ruined building and stared at what must have become a grave. Shock racked her body.

  A voice penetrated her despair. ‘Oi! What’re yer up to, Miss? You shouldn’t be out here, it’s too dangerous.’

  An ARP warden approached her, shining a powerful torch into her face. She cowered away from its beam. When he got up to her, he asked her again what she was doing, then said, ‘Hey, you’re all wet. What’s happened to yer?’

  When her eyes got used to the light, she could see that he wasn’t the same man who had offered her help before. Remembering that day, and Derrick, the old man dressed as Santa, she said, ‘I’m looking for the Copper Kettle Cafe.’

  ‘Well, you’ll look for a long time, as it’s gone, lav. All round here went on the night of 29th December. What a night, eh? I thought London would be no more and we’d all perish. Hundreds did. Poor buggers.’

  Molly remembered; of course, it’d been the night after she’d met Flo. A terrifying and intense attack had taken place, as if the Germans were throwing everything they had at them in one night. Telling the warden now that she had nowhere to go, she asked if he could direct her to the nearest Salvation Army depot.

  ‘If yer go back to Poland Street, lav, yer bound to see one. But failing that, get yerself down the Underground. Good luck.’

  Adjusting to the light once the warden had moved off, Molly turned round to retrace her steps. Back on the main road, she felt exposed. She was too near the brothel and Trixie’s stamping ground, and might meet someone she knew at any moment.

  Two uniformed male figures came towards her, although she couldn’t quite make out which service they were in. But when one spoke, she knew they were Canadian; there were a lot of Canadian airmen stationed at Biggin Hill. ‘Good evening, ma’am. We’re in London looking for a good time. How about you tell us where to go, eh?’

  His question gave her an idea. Repulsed by the thought of it, desperation made her carry it through. ‘I can show you a good time, mate. I don’t charge much. If you both have me, I’ll ask for ten bob off each of you.’

  ‘Done. Where can we go?’

  ‘No. It’s not done, Spike. Ignore him, ma’am.’ The taller of the two, and the one supporting the drunken Spike, peered at her closely as he said this. He didn’t show any disdain, only concern. ‘Hey, you don’t look well, ma’am. Can we be of assistance to you?’

  Feeling embarrassed and lower than she’d ever been, Molly just wanted to get away from them. ‘Thanks, but I’ll manage. I’m just hungry and have nowhere to go – it’s par for the course, for us Londoners. I’ll be fine. I’ll find some help.’

  ‘We’ll help you, ma’am. We won’t leave you till you’re settled somewhere.’

  ‘Ha, we’ll take you up an alley. You’ll be settled there, when we’ve done with you.’

  ‘Shut up, Spike. Excuse him, ma’am, he’s not usually like this.’

  ‘She said she’d show us a good time, Art. What’s the matter with you? You said earlier that you needed a woman.’

  Propping Spike against the wall, Art told him, ‘Listen, Spike, I’ve had enough. I’m going for the train now, and I’m going to take this young lady with me and get her some goddamn help from that Salvation Army station we saw near there. Are you coming or not?’

  ‘Hell, no, man. I ain’t playing no guardian angel. I’m in London – Soho, the place of whores and drink – and I want a good time. We might be dead tomorrow.’


  The fear of her proximity to Eva’s place, and to the area where the girls worked, was making Molly nervous. Without thinking of the consequences, she blurted out, ‘There’s a brothel in Beak Street, just around the corner from here. Only don’t mention having seen me, as I’m trying to escape from there. It’s above a tailor’s shop. Just ring the bell of the shop.’

  ‘That’s where I’m headed, then. You can go to hell, Art. I’m going to have me a woman.’ As if this thought had sobered him, Spike stood up straight and marched off.

  ‘I’m torn, ma’am. I should go after him, but he’s hard to handle when he’s like this.’

  ‘He’s a grown man. If he gets into trouble, it’s not your fault.’ Molly was warming to Art. A big man and from what she could see a handsome one, he had a nice, caring way. Despite her appearance, he hadn’t rejected her, nor had he taken up her offer or let Spike take it. She felt ashamed of acting the way she had. What must he think of her?

  ‘You’re right, ma’am. He can fend for himself. I have to make my way to Victoria station, to catch a train to Shoreham. Whenever I make the trip to the station from the Thames end, I see a Salvation Army van near Vauxhall Bridge. I’ve been that way today. I live near a river at home, and the Thames draws me to it. What say we get a cab and head there? I’d like to bet the Salvation Army are still there. They’ll help you.’

  Molly couldn’t speak; it was as if her whole body let go, now that someone was going to help her.

  Art managed to get a taxi. It seemed easy for him. The Canadians had more money than they knew what to do with in broken-down London. They only had to raise their arms and they were tended to, wherever they went. Molly could imagine Eva rubbing her hands together in glee when Spike turned up there. Poor bloke would have nothing left in his pocket by the time he left. A small part of her was cheered by this. Spike was bent on paying to have a woman. If there weren’t men such as him, there’d be no trade for those who exploited women.