Brighter Days Ahead

by Mary Wood

  ‘Play the piano, Molly. Let’s have a jig.’

  ‘I will, Ruby, yes. I feel like a jig meself. Fill the glasses up again. I didn’t say, but I have another bottle stashed away. Let’s have a party. Bugger the war. We’re going to celebrate.’

  As she lifted the lid to the piano, she wished with all her heart that she had something to celebrate herself. But she’d hide that feeling. She wouldn’t spoil the day. These were her friends; they had saved her life between them and she’d rejoice in the good news they all had to celebrate, and would leave her own sorrow until she was in her room at night, as she’d always tried to. And she’d hang on to the hope that Flo and Art had given her.

  As she started playing ‘Show me the way to go home’, they all joined in singing and laughing. When the song came to an end, Art said, ‘Play one that Flo can sing to. What about one from the musical you’re in rehearsals for, with your amateur theatrical group, Flo?’

  ‘Eeh, they don’t want to listen to me.’

  A chorus of ‘We do’ set up around the room. ‘Come on, Flo, you say we can’t come and watch you on the stage, but we’d love to be part of it.’

  ‘All right. How about “Follow the Yellow Brick Road”. That’s in keeping with the mood we’re all in, and I can do a comic version of each animal and the Tin Man’s part.’

  ‘Give me a mo.’ Molly could play by ear, but always needed to play a few notes until she got the music into her. She hummed the tune to herself as she picked out the notes. ‘Right, I’ve got it. Off we go.’

  The atmosphere that followed was like the pantomime that Molly’s mum had taken her to years and years ago, and she felt her heart lifting. She was so glad Flo hadn’t chosen ‘Somewhere over the rainbow’, as she didn’t think she could have stood the lyrics of that. As she looked around the room at the happy, smiling faces of those she loved, and watched Flo’s hilarious antics as she mimicked the movements of the Tin Man, a smile spread across her face. No matter what she’d been through, without doing so she would never have met these folk, and they had enriched her life. Yes, she was lucky, but she wished with all her heart that the wonderful things the Wizard of Oz could do included bringing her David back to her.

  27

  Molly

  1943 – Inspiration Strikes

  Molly slumped down on her bed. The other beds in the Nissen hut were empty and she felt glad to have a short respite, before more of the spotters and telegraph operators came in, after their celebrations with the gunners ended.

  Trained as a spotter and stationed just outside Reading for the last two years, Molly did most of her work on the cold embankment, training her sights on the sky, searching for incoming German aircraft. Usually, thank goodness, it was a fruitless operation, but tonight an aircraft had been spotted and she had been one of the two ATS who had fixed the height and range. A direct hit had occurred, but Molly couldn’t find it in her to cheer as the rest of the team had, or to join in the revelry that followed. Her imagination had shown her David’s plane being hit, and the Germans cheering as he fell to his fate.

  One thing had lifted her. The German pilot in the plane tonight had bailed out and she’d just heard he’d been taken prisoner. Please let it have been so for David.

  Digging out her mail from where she’d tucked it under her pillow when it arrived, she settled down to read it. Just seeing the envelopes cheered her, as she could tell by the writing and the postmarks that one was from Flo and the other from Ruby. Not that she received mail from anyone else, but to have them both write to her at the same time was unusual.

  Flo told her how Roland was now out of prison, but was finding life very difficult. His old college had snubbed him, and though he’d tried to revive his private night-school, he’d had no takers:

  He’s not short of money, mind, but getting more and more depressed as he feels rejected by the society he was once an upstanding member of. Eeh, Molly, I just don’t know how to help him.

  There’s something else as well. He has this friend, Frazer. Roland has told me they have fallen in love, but that they don’t have a relationship, as Roland is afraid, which is understandable. But he is denying himself any happiness.

  Frazer is a lawyer, and his father is in banking and investments. He has an office in Brighton and has offered Roland a job, but Roland won’t hear of it, even though Frazer lives there, having set up a practice that handles a lot of his father’s clients. Roland tells me that Frazer thinks they could have a good life there together, but no. Roland’s fear holds him back and their only contact is by letter.

  I just don’t know how his life will work out, and am afraid he’ll end up old and lonely, as Frazer may get fed up and meet someone else. And I will be thousands of miles away, and Roland has no one but me. When I speak to him about this, he gets very upset, but just can’t see a way he can change things.

  Anyroad, how are you doing? I hope you’re still happy. I’m getting increasingly worried as ‘A’ is away on business more and more.

  Molly knew this meant Art was flying more and more missions. Something she knew already, as many times she watched the RAF squadrons going out. It had become the norm for the ATS spotters on duty to count the planes out and then count them in again. If the same number came back, they celebrated; but if any were missing, the mood was very sombre. At those times Molly dreaded being called to the sergeant’s office to take a call from Flo. Such was the daily fear of their lives.

  Flo never spoke of the official work she did, only of her work with the Salvation Army, which was mostly with the homeless now; and of her social life, either with Art, if he had leave at the same time as her, or with her friends Belinda and Petulia. Molly hadn’t met these ladies, though she did have a photo of Flo with them. They were all wearing the costumes from one of their concerts. They both sounded fun-loving girls and really nice and caring of Flo, but then that was a measure of Flo’s personality: she was accepted and loved by people from all walks of life. They only had to meet her to love her.

  Molly missed her so much between the times when they could meet up, usually in London with Pauline for a cup of tea in a cafe. Though once Molly had been able to stay over and they’d gone to His Majesty’s Theatre and watched a hilarious comedy called Lady Behave!, about a billionaire getting drunk at a party and marrying a fellow partygoer. It had been a wonderful night. London was full of Americans and the atmosphere was electric. One day she would take Ruby and Trixie there.

  Opening Ruby’s letter, Molly expected it to be full of the fun they were having: going to village dances where the only men were too old to fight and were with their wives, so it was acceptable for the girls to dance together – something that suited Ruby and Trixie. But what she found alarmed and distressed her.

  Trixie had been involved in an accident when they were doing something Ruby called thrashing, and it looked likely she might lose the use of most of her arm. Oh God!

  Molly read on with increasing concern:

  Oh, Molly, I just don’t know what to do. At best, the arm is going to be very weak; at worst, they may have to amputate. Please try to come and visit us.

  We’re worried an’ all about our future. We’ve been thinking of trying to get a place together and getting jobs to support us. It has been so exciting planning it, as our private moments together are so few and far between. Now Trixie may not be able to work. I’m really scared, as she is depressed and said something about going back to her old life, if there is nothing else she can do.

  This shocked and frightened Molly. Sitting up, she tried to blot out the image of Trixie once more walking the sleazy streets of Soho; the danger she would be in, and the depths she might have to sink to, as a prostitute who would be considered a cripple. Somehow Molly had to prevent that.

  The idea came to Molly a few days later, when she overheard a conversation between two of her colleagues. One asked the other what she was planning to do when the war was over. The other replied that her mum was selling th
e guesthouse she had in Brighton, and the family were planning to emigrate to Australia.

  It was hearing Brighton mentioned that brought Roland to her mind, and how his friend lived down there, and how there seemed no future for them.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d been thinking about how difficult it was for couples like Roland and Frazer and Trixie and Ruby to live together and sustain a lifestyle. The predicament Trixie and Ruby were in meant that she’d pondered the problem, looking for solutions, for most of her free time. Though she knew it must be easier for women, as it was acceptable for two girls to live together, just as it was for women at any age, even old maids. But now, with Trixie possibly unable to earn a living, the prospects for Ruby and Trixie seemed really limited.

  Offering her friends a permanent home wasn’t an option. Though Molly loved them, she would be forever embroiled in what they were doing. Besides, she’d been thinking lately of selling up herself and starting a new life in another country after the war – probably Canada, to be near Flo.

  But what if two homosexual couples, two men and two women, had a pretend marriage between the men and the women? That would give them a ‘normal’ life to present to the world. Then, if both couples lived together, who would know who slept with whom? And to make it happen for Roland and Frazer and Ruby and Trixie, she could sell her property, buy this guesthouse from her colleague’s mother, and make part of it into two flats with some letting room. The girls could have one flat and run the business, and the men could have their own flat and live a completely separate life from the girls and continue in their careers. No one would ever know. No one who didn’t know and accept them, that is. It’s the answer. It has to be.

  Thinking her plan through, Molly realized she’d need some capital investment from the men; they’d have to be equal partners, but by all accounts they were both well off, and Ruby and Trixie could pay rent from their business. Perfect. She’d write this minute to Flo to see what she thought. Oh, I feel really excited. This is a solution, a real possibility. The thought came to her of what she’d wear to the double wedding, and she laughed. Me and Flo could be bridesmaids.

  The whole idea had lifted her so much; she couldn’t wait to put it to all concerned. She could help them to fool the world, while they lived the life they wanted to and, hopefully, found lasting happiness together. The more she thought about it, the more she hoped it would all happen.

  28

  Flo

  1946 – The Wedding and Putting on The Wizard of Oz

  Flo twirled round in front of the long mirror in her bedroom. The happiness that clothed her was epitomized by the ivory-coloured, beautiful calf-length damask wedding dress she wore. Art had sent the material over from Canada. It had been devastating when he had been posted back home after the war ended. But now he was demobbed and working back in the family business. At last he was here in England again, and this was their wedding day.

  After the end of the war Flo had stayed on at Bletchley for a few months with Belinda and Petulia. There was still work to do in the Japanese section, as that war hadn’t ended at the time Germany surrendered, and there was sensitive material to categorize, ready for it to be archived by the government, as everything had to remain secret for the next thirty years. Soon after Hiroshima, her work came to an end and it wasn’t long before she, too, was demobbed.

  Not ready to go back to her old life in Leeds, Flo had gone to London for a while. She’d taken a job in an office and rented a flat, but it had only been temporary, until Art could come back to her and this day, which they’d waited so long for, could be arranged. Once plans could be made, Flo had gone home.

  Whilst in London she’d met up often with Pauline, and had met her Fred, who’d returned all in one piece and was a jolly soul. Pauline had looked so happy. They were soon to move into a council house of their own, as was Fred’s right. Molly, Belinda and Petulia had also been regular visitors, but she hadn’t seen Ruby and Trixie, or Roland and Frazer, as they were now all living in Brighton. That would change today, though. Happiness warmed her at the thought of having all her friends around her on her special day.

  Belinda and Petulia had taken on the task of making Flo’s beautiful wedding gown. The bodice fitted to her waist and had a heart-shaped neckline, prettily edged with lace. The back of the bodice had a row of pearl buttons from her neck to her waist, and a string of pearls formed a plaited band where the buttons ended, making the back view as pretty as the front. The skirt flowed to a hem of lace. She loved it, and felt special wearing it. Belinda had even made her a hat to go with it. She’d used an old straw summer hat with a large floppy brim, and had moulded it into shape with fine wire, so that one side stood up and the other draped down to Flo’s shoulder. The whole hat was then covered with swathes of the damask and with netting of the same shade, which extended over the brim to drape over Flo’s face; it felt as though she was wearing a veil. Where the materials were fastened to the hat, they were cleverly held in place and disguised on the lower side of the brim by a bunch of forget-me-nots that Belinda had made out of blue silk. ‘Something borrowed and something blue,’ she’d said. ‘The forget-me-nots will be your blue, and here – these pearls my grandmother left me will be something borrowed.’

  The pearls were exquisite, a single row with a much larger pearl in the centre. Flo picked up the gold box that contained them and stood for a moment, looking down at them as they lay on their bed of black velvet. She hardly dared touch them; they must be so valuable.

  Everything Belinda and Petulia had done for her was perfect, even down to the soft ivory satin shoes they’d found for her, with a little heel and a strap across her foot, which looked so dainty; and the white silk stockings, which added a lovely touch and felt heavenly on her legs.

  At times she’d had to rein in their ideas, as you would think they were making a costume for one of their theatrical productions, the way they wanted to add sequins and bows to the bodice and flounces to the skirt. But it had all been fun, and she’d been so grateful to them for taking time away from the theatrical-costume business they’d set up.

  Both had found that they had talent and a vivid imagination to put into such work, during their time of producing various plays and musicals at Bletchley. And both were skilled seamstresses, as sewing and embroidery had been a huge part of their education to turn them into capable women for marriage. Not that she could see either of them marrying for a long time, though both of them had a suitor now. Belinda’s was the son of her solicitor, and Petulia’s was an actor, apparently much disapproved of by her family. But both girls declared they were too tied up in building their careers to think about marriage. So their poor young men had to hang around a lot and often found themselves roped into delivering costumes across London.

  The door to Flo’s bedroom opened and Molly walked in. She looked a picture, in her blue bridesmaid’s frock. She, Eunice and Kathy were to be in attendance today. Their dresses were of satin, and of a similar style to Flo’s, their hair held in a band of forget-me-nots. All of their outfits had been made by Belinda and Petulia, too, and her own forget-me-nots had been made out of remnants of the material used for the bridesmaids’ dresses. Flo didn’t know how to thank them.

  ‘Oh, Flo, you look beautiful.’ Molly wiped away a tear. Flo hoped it was put there by joy and not sadness. Molly covered it up by using a mock-crossness in her tone. ‘But you’re being very slow – come on, time’s getting on. Here, let me fasten those pearls for you.’

  ‘Ta, Molly. Eeh, I’m so happy and excited. I’ve been like that since I helped you arrange Roland and Ruby’s and Frazer and Trixie’s double wedding. I couldn’t wait for me own, and now it’s here. By, we pulled that wedding off, though, didn’t we?’

  ‘Ha, Frazer’s distant relatives and his friends were funny. The whole plan had come together so well, but they were very shocked by what they discovered. Their faces at the wedding reception were a picture – and their comments! They couldn’t a
ccept Frazer marrying an East Ender, or understand him having a double wedding with Roland. But then coming to terms with the staid type they’d all known Roland to be, and him also marrying an East Ender, was beyond them. They left soon after the wedding breakfast. We all partied then, didn’t we? We had a ball.’

  ‘We did, but I think it was as much for the end of the war as anything else. I can’t believe that was eighteen months ago.’

  ‘No, nor me. It’s all working out for the best, an’ all. Trixie manages well with her withered arm, and helped by the love and support of Ruby she does most of the cooking for their guests, and for the cafe. That was a great idea of Ruby’s to open the street-level rooms of the guesthouse as a cafe; it’s very popular and looks set to bring them an income all year round.’

  ‘It was a new beginning for them all, and put my mind at rest – it’s wonderful for me to think of Roland feeling happy and settled. You did a wonderful thing for him.’

  ‘Flo, you reached out to me in my darkest hour. You saved my life. I wanted to give something back to you. Helping your friend was my way of doing that.’

  ‘It was a good day when you came to the Sallies’ van. You’re a great friend, Molly. And I’m glad as you had enough money over to help you have this respite, after your own demob. Have you settled into your new flat?’

  ‘I manage. It’s a bit lonely . . . Flo, would you mind if I emigrated and came to live in Canada, somewhere near to you and Art? I could do with a new beginning. A complete change.’

  ‘Oh, Molly, I’d love that. Oh, I hope you do. We’ll help you to find somewhere, and Art will be really happy, as he’s worrying about me settling down. Eeh, you’ve made me day.’

  ‘Ha, getting married is supposed to make your day, love, so let’s get going. I know a bride can keep her fiancé waiting at the altar, but not for long. Everyone’s ready.’