East End Angel

by Rivers, Carol

  Pearl thought how nicely Hope spoke. She used long words like ‘enhanced’. She had been very clever to make such stunning gowns. With a few nip and tucks, the dresses seemed complete.

  ‘Now, to the hems,’ said Hope, sitting back on her heels. ‘An inch higher, don’t you think, Ruby?’

  Ruby, who was shorter than Pearl, nodded. ‘Yes, to keep up with the fashion.’

  Hope made the change, then looked at Pearl’s slightly large bodice. ‘If you’ll raise your arms . . .?’

  Once again she made the adjustments, taking pins from a sponge tied on her wrist.

  ‘That will do.’ She frowned, causing Pearl to smile as she looked so much like Colin. Not as skinny as Colin, but she had that same studious expression under her spectacles.

  After the fitting, Pearl didn’t want to take off her dress. It reminded her of the feminine clothes she used to like to wear before the war. How could she have let herself go like this? All her attempts to resist utility wear had failed. And now there was little choice on the market stalls either.

  Ruby slid the dress over her arms. Pearl tried hiding her grey underwear. Her petticoat and bras had had so many washes they were thin and discoloured. Her brown skirt and fawn blouse looked old and tired in comparison.

  ‘Do you need us again?’ Ruby asked, buttoning up her blouse.

  ‘I’ll let Emily know if I do.’

  ‘Can we see Em’s dress?’ Pearl asked.

  ‘I don’t see why not.’ Hope led them out of the room and down the stairs to the living quarters. Two small children were sitting with an older woman on the couch. ‘My mother and my children,’ Hope introduced. The boy was about six or seven, the girl a little younger. They looked up from the floor where they had been playing and said hello. The older lady, dressed in a smart suit with her hair coiled stylishly at the back of her head, merely nodded.

  Hope took them into a bedroom. Pearl noted how well furnished it was, with an art deco suite of furniture and big double bed with a silk cover. Inside the shiny wardrobe was Em’s wedding dress.

  ‘I keep my finished pieces in here,’ explained Hope, carefully bringing out the gown and laying it on the bed. It was stunning, long and slender, with lace sleeves and a ruffled neckline.

  ‘Oh, it’s a dream,’ said Ruby, the envy clear in her voice. ‘Has it got a veil?’

  ‘Yes, I’m working on that at the moment.’

  ‘You’re so clever,’ said Pearl, noting the tiny, embroidered stitches around the cuffs. ‘Em’s a lucky girl.’

  ‘I would say that Colin is luckier,’ said Hope with a smile. ‘He has very high standards and Mother and I had almost given up hope that he’d find the right girl. Have you known Emily for long?’

  Pearl nodded. ‘I used to work with her in the Borough Surveyor’s department.’

  ‘She speaks very highly of you.’

  ‘Does she?’ Pearl blushed.

  ‘And Cynthia, of course. Which reminds me, would you like me to make a dress for your daughter with the remnants of the material? She’s two, isn’t she?’

  Pearl was delighted. ‘She will be, a week before Em and Colin get married.’

  ‘I’ll style it as a smock to allow for growth so she can wear it to parties afterwards. All the measurement I will need is her height.’

  ‘That’s good of you,’ said Pearl. Not that Cynthia had any parties to go to.

  On their way out the two children both said goodbye politely, as did Hope’s mother.

  Sitting on the bus, Ruby was the first to comment. ‘Ain’t they posh, Pearl? Did you hear the way Hope called her mum “Mother”? And those two kids – it was definitely the King’s English they spoke, not cockney like us.’

  ‘I’m not surprised, as Colin speaks well.’

  ‘Has Em ever mentioned her in-laws-to-be?’

  ‘No. But once Colin did. Don’t you remember? It was when they looked after Cynth that weekend. He said that him and Em sometimes looked after his sister’s children.’

  Ruby was pensive. ‘I’d like my kids to grow up somewhere nice like North London. I should start watching me p’s and q’s. Ricky speaks nice and I don’t want to let him down.’

  ‘Where was he born?’ Pearl said, trying to recall what she knew of Ricky’s background.

  ‘Blackheath. On the other side of the river.’

  ‘How did he come to the island?’

  ‘His parents were well off, but they died and Ricky had to make his own way in the world. I suppose he just landed up here. But he’s always wanted to better himself. It’s just unlucky that the navy put paid to his dreams.’

  Pearl glanced at her sister. ‘But you’ll make other ones between you.’

  ‘I don’t seem to be getting pregnant.’

  Pearl smiled. ‘You will when you don’t try.’

  Ruby turned away again. Pearl wondered if this was what was worrying her. She wished she could tell her sister that once she too had thought that, after a miscarriage, another child might not come along. Yet Cynth had been born, a healthy bouncing baby, conceived the night that she and Jim had slept on the couch together. Pearl sighed to herself. The secret of her affair with Ricky and miscarriage could never be shared. It was a memory that she alone had to bear.

  ‘What about a wedding present?’ asked Pearl, looking out of the window at the shops.

  ‘Dunno,’ said Ruby disinterestedly. ‘It will have to be cheap.’

  ‘What about linen?’ said Pearl. ‘If we started saving now, we’d have enough coupons between us. You could give sheets and me pillowslips. We could embroider E and C on the corners to make them personal.’

  Ruby shrugged. ‘If you like.’

  Pearl knew that whatever they gave would be appreciated by Em, even if it was only sheets and slips. But she knew that Ruby was ashamed because they couldn’t buy something that would befit Em’s grand new lifestyle in North London.

  On 7 September, the Chairman of the War Cabinet Committee for defence against German bombs, Duncan Sandys, made an announcement. ‘Except for possibly a few last shots of V1s,’ he confidently told the nation, ‘the attacks on London are over.’

  ‘No more doodlebugs, thank God!’ Ruby exclaimed that night as she sat on the stool in the bedroom, brushing her hair. ‘Won’t it be wonderful?’ She glanced over her bare shoulder to the bed where her husband lay.

  He was reading a newspaper and she knew he didn’t want to be disturbed. What was going through his mind? Why couldn’t she penetrate the wall he’d built round him since leaving hospital? Was he like this because of his injuries? If only they had made love and could enjoy each other physically. But lately his desire for her seemed to have cooled. If she looked at him, as she wanted to, with desire, he turned away. If she looked elsewhere and talked instead, that irritated him too.

  Returning the brush to the drawer, she stood up. Her deep blue nightdress was the one she had worn for their hotel rendezvous. He had wanted her so much then. Was it her fault that the physical side of their marriage wasn’t working out? She would give anything to make him want her like that again.

  She shivered in the cold room and folded back the eiderdown. ‘Ricky?’ she whispered as she slipped in beside him.

  He didn’t reply and Ruby slid her arm around his waist. He gave her a brief glance, but his eyes showed no expression.

  ‘Can we talk?’

  ‘What about?’ he murmured, still reading the paper.

  ‘Well,’ she began a little resentfully, ‘can you put that down. Or is what you’re reading more important than us?’ She touched the buttons of his long-sleeved vest lightly, knowing how self-conscious he was of the scars underneath.

  He folded the paper away. ‘So, what is it you want us to talk about?’

  ‘Everything,’ she answered, relieved to have caught his attention. ‘Like what we’re going to do with our lives. Where we’ll live. How many children we’ll have—’

  ‘I’ve not had the sniff of a job,’ he i
nterrupted her angrily, ‘and we haven’t got a bean to our name, no savings and very little to cover the costs of daily expenses. How can you expect me to comment on a future?’

  ‘But we should make plans.’

  ‘There are none to make.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ She ran her hand down to his thigh. ‘I thought after we were married—’

  ‘You thought,’ he snapped, pushing her away, ‘that marriage would somehow cure this unsightly body of mine and solve all the problems that now seem to be ten times worse than they were before.’

  ‘That’s not a nice thing to say.’ Ruby felt her lips tremble.

  ‘Oh, don’t start that.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  Whenever she tried to get close to him, he would say something hurtful. Did he do it deliberately, or did he not understand just how much he drove a wedge between them?

  ‘Ricky, I love you.’

  ‘You don’t know what love is.’

  ‘Ricky!’ She sat up. ‘You say some rotten things.’

  He threw the covers off. Getting out of bed, he snatched up his dressing gown, then stopped at the door. ‘You have no idea what it’s like to walk the streets day after day with no work in sight, no challenge, no aim. The navy was all I had and now it’s gone. I’m adrift.’

  Ruby stared up at him. ‘Why haven’t you told me this before?’

  ‘We have no privacy.’

  ‘Come back to bed, Ricky. I’ll listen.’ She wanted to put her arms round him, but instead he went out of the room.

  She sat in bed alone, the tears very close. What was going wrong with their marriage? Wasn’t she attractive to him any more? Or was it like the matron had once warned her? Some men never got over their experiences of war. Perhaps he needed a doctor’s help to recover and he’d left Brawton too early.

  She laid down and tried to sleep. The minutes crawled by as she stared into the darkness. Then she heard the door open. Ricky climbed back into bed and said gruffly, ‘Go to sleep.’

  She put her arm out. ‘Oh, darling, I wish we could move away, make a really new start.’

  ‘It would be no better anywhere else. In fact, it would be worse. At least there are the docks here, and factory offices. Something must turn up one day, even if it’s only sweeping floors.’

  Ruby felt very alone and unhappy as he turned away from her and fell asleep. She lay awake in the darkness, feeling more bewildered than ever.

  The next day, Friday 8 September, there was an explosion in South-West London and another one at Epping. No one was certain what they were. Over the next two days there was speculation as to whether it was the gas mains that were responsible. But on Monday Pearl went down to the shop where Gwen and Fitz were convinced it was not the gas, but Hitler’s next and most terrifying secret weapon.

  ‘A customer who was south of the river,’ said Fitz, ‘heard this roar and then a kind of echoing boom. It wasn’t a bit like a gas mains as she knew what a gas explosion was like from the Blitz.’

  ‘There’s been talk of rockets,’ nodded Gwen from the other counter where she was attending to a customer.

  ‘Big ones,’ said one of the customers. ‘All the way from Germany.’

  ‘Could a rocket fly that far?’ asked Pearl.

  ‘Oh, yes, they could do a lot of damage, according to the newsreels. I saw it on the flicks yesterday. They are big buggers and twice as lethal as the V1s.’

  Fitz closed the till noisily. ‘The government should keep us informed. It’s diabolical that we aren’t put in the picture.’

  ‘Ruby has only just got over the V1s.’ Pearl turned Cynthia’s pushchair round. ‘I don’t know what she’d be like if anything worse started.’

  ‘Poor love,’ sympathized Gwen, taking out her pocket knife and slicing a carrot in two. She gave one half to Cynthia. ‘Enjoy that, ducks. You’ll never need specs like old Fitzy over there, if you eat yer carrots.’

  Pearl smiled as Fitz made a funny face.

  ‘Maybe it’s just another rumour,’ Gwen shrugged, and everyone nodded half-heartedly. But by the next day the truth was out. The V2s, as they were named, came flying over thick and fast.

  That night Ricky read from the newspaper. ‘The V2 rockets make a sound like a train followed by a boom after they’ve exploded.’

  ‘That’s what a customer said in Hemsley’s,’ Pearl agreed as she cleared away the dishes from the top of the Morrison.

  Ruby left her Spam and cold potatoes. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘You must eat something,’ Pearl told her.

  ‘I thought it had all ended,’ whispered Ruby folding her arms over her chest and shuddering. ‘That Sandys told us the battle for London had ended.’

  ‘On many fronts we are winning,’ said Ricky, closing the newspaper and standing up. ‘It does no good to get despondent or complain.’ He left the room, taking the paper with him.

  Pearl went to her sister. ‘Ruby, you look awful. Where’s your make-up?’

  ‘I can’t be bothered.’

  ‘But you’re always so particular about your appearance.’

  ‘I’m fed up with trying. Me nerves can’t take much more.’ She looked down at her working slacks and a tear fell on her hand, to be swept quickly away.

  Pearl sat down at the Morrison. ‘Listen, why don’t you and Ricky go to Mum and Dad’s for a week or two? After all, they haven’t seen you since your wedding. Mr Brewer would let you take your holiday. You haven’t had a break in ages, not since Brawton. And you did say you had it in mind.’

  Ruby shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t leave you. Not with these rockets flying over.’

  ‘Ruby, I’m more concerned about you than them.’

  ‘Ricky wouldn’t come with me.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He still doesn’t feel well enough.’ Ruby shrugged. ‘And anyway, there’s Cynth’s birthday coming up and Em’s wedding after that. We might need another fitting and there’s presents to buy.’

  ‘I can do that. And the fitting can be postponed.’

  Ruby shrugged. ‘I’ll give it some thought.’

  ‘Well, don’t wait too long.’

  Ruby nodded, but Pearl wondered if the real reason she didn’t want to go away was because married life wasn’t turning out to be easy. And their mum could read Ruby like a book.

  Chapter 20

  Cynthia’s birthday arrived with a small celebration at Gwen’s after the shop had closed. They were treated to a real cake that Fitz had managed to get from a baker in Poplar. It had no icing, but two candles were found in the shop drawer. Everyone played hide-and-seek in and out of the yard, and Cynthia unwrapped her presents by the fire. By the time the week was over, Pearl and Ruby had had their final fittings for the wedding.

  October had been a cold and wet month but Saturday the 28th there was a brief show of sun as Pearl and Ruby stood at the church door. The organist at St Bart’s played Em’s chosen hymns and the guests sat waiting inside the draughty church. Em was being given away by one of Colin’s uncles as her father, reluctant to appear in public, felt unable to attend. On Em’s side of the church there was Mr and Mrs Hedley, Moira and Arnie, who had turned out to be Moira’s Prince Charming, and Gwen and Cynthia. Ricky had declined the invitation.

  Colin’s side was full of his family and friends. His mother wore a tailored lemon suit with a Gainsborough-style hat. His father looked just like Colin and wore a smart grey suit, as did the best man, Colin’s brother-in-law, on his left. Hope and the children sat next to them. Hope was wearing a long oyster-coloured coat with wide shoulders, whilst the two children looked like royalty in deep blue velvet.

  The church usher gave the signal and the bride, in her long white dress with lace sleeves and ruffled neckline, walked down the aisle on Colin’s uncle’s arm. Ruby and Pearl followed, carrying their small posies of pink and white chrysanthemums. Hope had rather elaborately finished their dresses with leg of mutton sleeves, and still had had enough materi
al over to make Cynthia’s dress. All in all, it was a lovely spectacle, Pearl thought, as she glanced at Ruby, who for once had a smile on her face.

  At the altar, Colin stepped forward. He was dressed in dark grey and looked very handsome. Pearl glanced to where Gwen was sitting with Cynthia. She was very proud of how her daughter looked in a fawn-coloured coat with a brown velvet collar that she’d had on her birthday last week. It was only cheap from the market, but underneath she wore her new pink smock that Em had made.

  Soon the strains of ‘Ave Maria’ filled the church, sung by a young girl standing in the organ loft. It was very touching. Pearl wondered how Ruby was feeling. She was wearing her wedding ring, though Ricky couldn’t wear his yet. Was she thinking that if only she’d waited, her own wedding day could have been like this?

  When the vicar smiled, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife,’ Colin took Em in his arms. They seemed to be a perfect couple. Pearl wished Jim was home, sitting in the pew with Cynthia. They had had such a lovely wedding. If he was here they could remember it together.

  The wedding march boomed out and Em and Colin walked slowly down the aisle. Pearl and Ruby followed and the guests were all smiles. Cynthia called out, ‘Mummy!’ and clapped her hands. Pearl blew her a kiss and she blew one back. She was so proud of her little girl! And she knew Jim would be too.

  After the photographs, the guests filed into the church hall. It was decorated with fresh flowers and the tables were covered in white tablecloths and napkins. Like Pearl’s own wedding breakfast, the buffet was on a luxurious scale for wartime. There was a two-tier wedding cake, which wasn’t cardboard. The sandwiches were white, not grey, and had no crusts. There was no trace of Spam or carrots, and gleaming cutlery had been placed on every table. There were even fluted glasses for the champagne. Em had told them that Colin’s aunt, the wife of the uncle who gave her away, worked at Lyons and had arranged everything.

  After the meal and the speeches, Em and Colin got up to take the floor. The violin, flute and harp sounded wonderful to Pearl’s ears, if very far removed from the kind of knees-up they were used to. Cynthia sat on Pearl’s lap, entranced at the sight of the bride and groom and the musicians dressed in tail coats.