A Sister's War

Home > Historical > A Sister's War > Page 12
A Sister's War Page 12

by Molly Green


  Ronnie giggled. ‘I’m saying nothing.’

  ‘Only because you know you’re guilty,’ Sally chuckled. ‘But I’m curious. Can I ask you something?’ She sat on the bench.

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Do you like working on the boats?’

  ‘Quite well,’ Ronnie said cautiously. ‘I’ll feel a lot better when I know what I’m doing.’ She glanced at Sally. ‘How about you? Do you like it?’

  Sally lifted her shoulders. ‘I haven’t made up my mind yet.’

  ‘What made you come in the first place?’

  ‘The usual thing – a man. He didn’t want the things I wanted, after all. So I thought this would be different enough to take my mind off him. Well, in a way, it does. But it’s not quite how I envisaged it.’

  Sally was a well-educated girl, Ronnie thought. Rather like Jessica, she didn’t look the type to do such mucky, backbreaking work.

  ‘What did you do before?’

  ‘I was a nurse,’ Sally said.

  Ronnie’s brows shot up. ‘Goodness, that’s quite a difference.’

  ‘Yes. The war started at the same time as my training, and I couldn’t wait to help care for the soldiers. But when you saw the things I did, it was shocking. Those poor boys. Day after day, night after night they were brought in, some of them completely broken, and we had to help mend them. I was abroad about a year and then ended up at home. There was hardly any break. We just kept on with little sleep. I was a wreck but I still loved the work. But after Mike … well, you don’t want to hear about him.’ Sally sighed.

  ‘Maybe all you needed was a holiday,’ Ronnie said. ‘To have a proper rest. You might have seen things differently.’

  ‘That’s what Mike said,’ Sally replied, the words coated with bitterness.

  ‘Was he a doctor?’

  ‘Yes. The typical nurse falling for the doctor.’ She rose to her feet. ‘Enough of all that. If you’re sure you’re all right I’ll leave you. At least May can keep an eye on you. But if you feel dizzy again you must tell Dora. It might mean you’ve got slight concussion, but they can do something about that.’

  Ronnie thanked her and closed her eyes. In no time she was asleep.

  Ronnie had no idea what the time was or how long she’d slept. She stretched her arms above her head, enjoying the space of the whole three-foot bed to herself. After a few minutes she swung her legs out and stood up, then put her hand to her head. Ouch. That felt sore. Oh, dear. There was rather a lump. But it would go, she told herself. And in the meantime, she had a job to do.

  There was no one about in the butty. Her stomach rumbled but there was no sign or smell of any cooking. Dora must be using Jessica for something more important. Ronnie picked up her watch she’d put on the burnt bedside shelf. A quarter to six. She must have slept for several hours! Her stomach rumbled as she swiftly pulled a jumper on, then poked her head through the hatch. It was dark. She made out two shadowy figures coming towards her on Persephone’s gunwale.

  ‘Yous’d better wake her as yer the nurse,’ Ronnie heard Dora say. ‘Make sure she in’t concussed.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ Ronnie called, waving her arm. ‘I was going to start supper.’

  ‘Stay where you are.’ It was Sally.

  The two women dropped through the hatch, Dora as usual chewing on her pipe.

  ‘How are you feeling, Ronnie?’ Sally asked.

  ‘Heaps better – honestly.’

  ‘No more dizziness?’

  ‘No, and no blurry vision or headache,’ Ronnie said, remembering Nurse Martin’s list of possible symptoms from concussion. ‘I’m fine now. I think it was just tiredness.’

  ‘And shock,’ Sally added, turning to Dora. ‘But she looks a lot better than when I left her.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Dora narrowed her eyes. ‘Yer seem ter be good at getting yerself in a pickle, miss. Let’s see if yer can go the rest of the day without any more mishap.’ She bounded up the steps and disappeared.

  Sally grimaced. ‘She shouldn’t have made you clean the engine room. It was a rotten thing to ask when you’d had that accident. I told her the best thing for you was to get some rest and you’d be fine – which you are.’

  ‘Thanks, Sally, but to be fair, Dora did come and help me. I’m just terrified she’s going to send me home.’

  ‘I’m sure you’d have to do something much worse for that to happen.’ She looked at Ronnie. ‘Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll be getting back to the motor.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Right, you lot,’ Dora said. Two days had passed without too much mishap. Ronnie and the two teams were gathered in the cold drizzle on the towpath. ‘We’re startin’ on a tunnel this mornin’ – Blisworth Tunnel, ten miles away. It’s a long one – nearly two miles. Third longest in the country,’ she added with a smirk, her pipe bobbing up and down between her lips. ‘Ver-ron-eek will take the tiller on the butty. Keep an eye on her, Jess. See she don’t do nothin’ daft. Margaret, go with them and watch how to steer as you in’t had a turn on yer own yet, and May, clean the cabin and make their drinks. I’ll be leadin’ the way on the motor with Sally and, Angela, do the same as May – a thorough cleanin’ job in the cabin and make us a cocoa at ten o’clock.’ She suddenly stared at Angela. ‘Well, I see the bugs have taken a likin’ to you, miss,’ she said. ‘Funny they’ve not gone after no one else.’

  Five heads turned towards Angela. Her rain hat was pulled low over her face, masking her usual sour expression. Then Ronnie noticed a red rash on Angela’s face.

  ‘Thanks for reminding me,’ Angela muttered through gritted teeth. ‘I couldn’t sleep last night for scratching.’

  ‘Makes it worse.’ Dora’s eyes swept around the group. ‘When we tie up I’ll give yer a sulphur candle. That usually stops the little boogers in their tracks. And yer have ter seal up all the cracks round the doors and openin’s, but for now we need to crack on.’ She grinned at her feeble joke, looking at Ronnie. ‘Yous’ve got responsibility this mornin’, Ver-ron-eek, and that’s exactly why I’m puttin’ yer on the tiller because yer only took it for a short time the other day over a long pound and I don’t want it forgotten what I learnt yer. It’s another experience in the tunnel. All right?’

  Ronnie nodded. Then Dora’s words hit her. She’d be guiding the butty through a tunnel which the woman had already described as tricky. Never mind that Dora was in the lead. Persephone would be a long way ahead on the seventy-foot snubber. Thank goodness Dora had no idea how her stomach was fluttering. Was Dora expecting too much from them? They’d only been training for just over a week. She glanced at Margaret who was standing beside her, her small pinched face looking even paler under her sou’wester.

  ‘Are you okay, Margaret?’ Ronnie asked softly.

  ‘I’m claustrophobic,’ Margaret said, almost apologetically. ‘I can’t stand being in the dark. My father used to lock me in a cupboard when I was little. He used to constantly call me a “very bad girl”, though I don’t remember doing anything to deserve that sort of punishment.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I was so relieved when he died. I think Mum was, too. She’d had a dreadful life with him. But she met Graham Webb five years later, who’s now my stepfather. He’s the exact opposite … he’s lovely. He even adopted me. But I’ve never forgotten my father and what he did to me.’

  Ronnie’s jaw dropped. ‘Oh, Margaret, how cruel. I can’t imagine how frightened you must have been.’

  ‘And now we’ll be going through a horrible black tunnel. I could probably manage a short one but this is two miles. I won’t be able to see the end of it.’

  ‘Didn’t you realise you’d be going through tunnels when you signed up?’ Ronnie said.

  ‘Not really – oh, I don’t know.’ Margaret gave her a shaky smile. ‘I expect I’ll be all right.’

  ‘When you ladies have finished yapping,’ Dora’s strident tones were flung at them from a few yards away, ‘p’raps we could all get mov
in’.’

  ‘Sorry, Miss Dummitt,’ Ronnie said. She glanced at Margaret. ‘If you want to talk about it later when we’re quiet—’

  ‘No,’ Margaret said quickly. ‘I shouldn’t have said what I did. Please forget it. I’m just glad I won’t be with Dora in the front.’

  ‘I’m going in to make a cuppa,’ Jessica announced when Ronnie was settled at Penelope’s tiller, with Margaret sitting on the deck leaning against the low wall nervously chewing her nails. ‘I can’t wait until ten. Do you both want one?’

  ‘I never turn down a cuppa,’ Ronnie chuckled. ‘You couldn’t do a piece of toast as well, could you?’

  ‘Now you’re pushing it,’ Jessica laughed. ‘Of course I can. Margaret?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Back in a jiffy.’ Jessica disappeared.

  The drizzle had finally stopped. Ronnie shrugged off her raincoat leaving the usual bundle of thick jumpers underneath as she swung one arm above her head. It felt as though it had been released from five days of being trapped inside the sleeve of her coat. She circled her arm, all the time keeping her other hand firmly on the tiller of the seventy-foot narrowboat, then swapped over to swing her other arm. That felt so good. Her faint anxiety about steering through a tunnel was assuaged by knowing the experienced trainer was up ahead. It was actually a relief not to hear Dora constantly ordering everyone about and complaining. She wondered how Angela was getting on with the cleaning and grinned.

  She was beginning to enjoy herself. Muscles that had screamed with aches now felt stronger and able to tackle any physical job Dora threw at them. It was still early days and she knew she had masses to learn, yet Dora’s instructions didn’t terrify her as they once had. She’d begun to familiarise herself with the jobs that had to be done and see the logic in some of Dora’s comments that Ronnie had to admit often turned out to be helpful.

  It was bliss being deep in the countryside. Just at that moment the sun broke through the cloud, dappling spots of light on the water. There was no warmth in it at this time of year but she lifted her chin towards it for a few moments feeling completely content. She spotted a kingfisher sitting on a dripping, overhanging branch. ‘Good morning,’ she called out, laughing at the ridiculousness of her greeting. The bird eyed her for a second or two before it streaked in front of her, answering her with its zip-zip call, then soared above Penelope, the weak rays of sun catching it in a flash of iridescent blue and orange.

  Briefly she closed her eyes to imagine those few moments again. It was as though the bird had been waiting for her to come along, then took flight so he could show off his colours. How privileged she felt. Without warning Maman crossed her mind. Her mother loved cities. She was used to living in the heart of Paris. If only she could try to understand her youngest daughter’s love of the outdoors. Guiltily, Ronnie pushed the thought away that she’d left her mother on her own with only Rusty for company and hoped Maman was at this very moment taking him for a walk. If her mother would give him a chance, she’d find him a wonderful companion.

  ‘Snack coming up.’ Jessica broke the spell as she tapped Ronnie on the leg and passed up a tray of three mugs and a plate of toast. ‘Sorry I spilt some when I came up the steps. She glanced at the white-faced girl. ‘Are you okay, Margaret?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Not worried about the tunnel, are you?’

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ Ronnie interjected quickly, sure that Margaret wouldn’t want Jess to know she was so nervous.

  ‘Do you want to change over with me, Ronnie, while you two have your drink?’

  ‘What about you?’ Ronnie said.

  ‘I had my toast down below. I was starving.’

  ‘Okay.’ Ronnie reluctantly shifted over for Jessica, and gratefully munched her toast and jam, swigging down her tea in greedy gulps. She noticed Margaret was just sipping her tea, not saying a word.

  ‘This is the life,’ Jessica said. ‘Well, for us at the moment. May’s been given the short straw.’

  ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘Yes, she’s stuck in the cabin but at the moment she’s got tea and toast and a magazine.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s quite what Dora had in mind for her,’ Ronnie giggled, then became serious. ‘I just hope Dora doesn’t see you and I have swapped.’

  ‘She won’t know. She’ll be too busy giving Sally instructions.’ She paused, her eyes staring ahead. ‘I reckon it won’t be long before we come to the tunnel so we’ll change over as soon as it’s in sight.’

  The three girls were quiet for a while as they finished their tea.

  ‘LOOK OUT!’ Ronnie jumped up, shouting. ‘You’re going to hit the side!’

  Jessica pulled hard on the tiller. The boat swerved and crashed into the bank.

  Ronnie sucked in a breath.

  ‘Bugger and blast!’ Jessica said. ‘I pulled the tiller the wrong way … it’s a bloody instinct to pull it the same way you want to go.’ She turned to Ronnie, her forehead a band of perspiration.

  ‘Dora’s going to be furious,’ Ronnie groaned. ‘And I shall be the one in trouble as she told me to take the tiller.’

  ‘I’ll stick up for you,’ Jessica said. ‘It was my fault for suggesting it. I’ll stay where I am so she can see it was me.’ She frowned. ‘It looks like Persephone’s slowing down. For goodness’ sake – we’re going to bump into them if they don’t move along.’

  Ronnie’s eyes were transfixed as the snubber shortened. She could clearly see Sally coiling it onto the counter as she pulled it in.

  ‘Dammit, here comes Deadly Dora,’ Jessica said. ‘And she doesn’t look happy.’

  The three girls watched as Dora jumped onto the fore end of the butty and practically ran along the top planks and the cabin to where they were sitting.

  ‘What happened?’ she demanded. ‘Why is Jess at the tiller?’

  Ronnie opened her mouth but Jessica cut in before she could speak.

  ‘It was only while Ronnie had a cup of tea. I lost concentration for a few moments and pulled the tiller the wrong way. It won’t ever happen again.’ She paused. ‘I hope I haven’t caused any damage.’

  ‘If yer have, it’ll come out of yer wages,’ Dora said tightly. ‘I’m goin’ ter take a look.’

  ‘Bloody Nora.’ Jessica blew out her cheeks as Dora jumped down and then stepped onto the towpath. ‘Come on, Ronnie. We’d better go and have a look, too.’

  The two girls watched as Dora got down on her haunches to inspect the boat.

  ‘I don’t think there’ll be any damage,’ Jessica said. ‘It was only a bit of a prang.’

  ‘Don’t speak too soon,’ Dora snapped. ‘It’s well scraped.’ She lifted her frizzy yellow head. ‘Yous’ll have to pay for the paint and the painter,’ she finished triumphantly.

  By this time the other four girls had clustered round on the towpath.

  ‘So, Ronnie, you can’t be trusted even on the flat pound, let alone a tunnel,’ Angela said.

  ‘I believe yer was cleaning the motor cabin when it happened.’ Dora eyed Angela narrowly.

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘So don’t jump ter no conclusions, miss. It weren’t Ver-ron-eek at the tiller.’ She glared at the group.

  Angela’s lips thinned. ‘Then who was?’

  ‘Obviously that only leaves me,’ Jessica said. ‘But quite frankly, I don’t need your comments, Angela. It’s nothing to do with you what arrangements Dor – Miss Dummitt and I make between us.’

  Ronnie stepped closer to have a look at the side of the butty. There was what looked like a new scrape, but no more than several others which trainees before them had most probably made. She had to be honest and pointed out another deep scratch.

  ‘Miss Dummitt, I think this is the one I did in the lock. It looks exactly the same, so I don’t think it’s fair to blame Jessica.’

  Dora leaned over, her pipe half falling from her mouth. She put her hand up to steady it.

  ‘Yer m
ay be right, miss,’ she said, turning to Ronnie, ‘so let’s say no more about it.’ She took a few puffs. ‘It’s time ter press on so I’m goin’ to start the engine.’ She glared at the group. ‘All get back in yer places where I put yous.’

  It was half an hour, and after much grumbling and cursing – words that Ronnie didn’t even know existed – before the engine turned over. But there was no movement of the boats.

  ‘We’re stuck well and truly,’ Dora said, tutting and rolling her eyes. ‘Yous’d best jump down, Jess. You, miss’ – she jerked her head towards Ronnie – ‘you stay with the tiller on the butty.’

  ‘Damn and blast,’ Ronnie heard Jessica mutter as she hurriedly climbed down.

  ‘Sally, lean yer weight with Jess on the shafts,’ Dora directed. ‘When you feel it move, shout up and I’ll reverse the engine while yer keep pushin’.’ She wiped her face with the sleeve of her filthy jacket.

  Ronnie braced herself at the butty’s tiller. Dora was going to be furious with her and Jess. Just as everything had been going so well. If it hadn’t been for Jessica insisting on a cup of tea, none of this would have happened. She stopped that thought. It was unfair. The tea and toast couldn’t have come at a better time, and she was just as likely to have swerved into the bank as Jessica, if her steering in the lock was anything to go by.

  ‘Well, it don’t seem we can do this ourselves.’ Dora jumped down again. She knocked out her pipe against the heel of her boot as she surveyed the situation, then turned to the others. ‘Angela, go over ter the pub there and see if anyone’ll help. We need at least two – if not three – tough-lookin’ blokes ter get us out of this. Blokes who knows what they’re doin’.’

  ‘Why should it be me?’ Angela said sulkily. ‘I didn’t cause any of this.’

  ‘Because I said so.’ Dora’s voice was icy.

  ‘If Angela will take over, I’ll go,’ Ronnie said quickly.

  She hopped down and sped off before Dora could stop her.

 

‹ Prev