A Sister's War

by Molly Green

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Dummitt, that was awfully rude of me. Please forget I ever asked.’

  ‘It’s not the question I’m bothered with, it’s the answer I’m prepared ter give,’ Dora said surprisingly. ‘I never let on ter anyone how them shoes came about.’

  ‘My mother would be cross with me for asking,’ Ronnie said, mortified. ‘She’d say she hadn’t brought me up to be inquisitive where my elders were concerned.’

  ‘Yer ma is right,’ Dora said, drinking some more. ‘But I don’t mind yer askin’. But it’s too noisy in here. We’ll go ter that table in the corner if yer really want ter learn Dora’s secret.’

  A secret?

  Jessica raised her eyebrows when Ronnie and Dora rose from the table, the rest of the contents of Dora’s jug now in the mug she held, her pipe in the other hand.

  ‘Where’re you going?’ Jessica asked.

  ‘Dora wants to have a quiet word with me,’ Ronnie said, hoping Jess would think it was the fire warming her cheeks.

  ‘Mmm. Wonder why. Well, she can’t be going to tell you off as she’s already said how good we’ve been,’ Jessica said, her eyes dancing with curiosity. ‘Let me know later what this is all about.’

  Ronnie smiled, and followed Dora to the other table.

  ‘D’ya want another drink, miss?’ Dora said as Ronnie sat down.

  ‘No, I think I’ve had enough already,’ Ronnie said.

  Dora took up her mug and regarded the contents. ‘Expect yer right.’ Her word were a little slurry. ‘Anyway, here goes.’ She looked directly at Ronnie. ‘Somethin’ you don’t know, miss, but I were born on a boat.’

  ‘How exciting!’

  Dora shook her head vehemently. ‘No, it were somethin’ to be ashamed of. Still is, outside boater folk.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Boat folk are looked down upon as we don’t speak la-di-da, and people who don’t know any better think the boat families keep their boats filthy and their kiddies as well.’

  ‘But Dolly’s was spotless.’

  Dora nodded. ‘Yes, and most of ’em are. But there’re just enough Rodneys – that’s what we call the mucky lot – ter give everyone else a bad reputation.’

  ‘I see.’ All Ronnie could think of was how ignorant some people were.

  ‘So where was I?’ Dolly said, relighting her pipe. ‘Oh, yes. The bit about me bein’ born on a boat. I were taken in by another family as I were Ma’s number thirteen kiddie and she couldn’t cope. I were the final straw. I were only a baby so I didn’t know no different and I always called them auntie and uncle. When I were older I crazed ’em ter send me ter school but we was always on the move, carryin’ cargo and that. I just went to class here and there, most no more’n a few days at any one time. But I always wanted ter make somethin’ of meself right from when I were still a kiddie.’ She sucked in a breath and studied Ronnie. ‘This is probably not very interestin’.’

  ‘Oh, yes it is,’ Ronnie said truthfully. ‘I love hearing about your life.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Dora said, not sounding too sure. ‘Well, when I were your age I met a lad—’ Her dark eyes settled on Ronnie. ‘I fell hook, line and sinker and he felt the same.’ She paused a moment. ‘He were a boater, too. And six weeks later he asked me to marry him.’

  Ronnie gave Dora an encouraging smile, but deep down she knew this wasn’t going to end well.

  ‘Gosh, that was quick.’

  Dora nodded and gave a small smile. ‘O’ course I said yes. We was that happy. We had the weddin’ date fixed and I bought these shoes to go with a dress me friend lent me. I couldn’t afford both things and I wanted them shoes so bad as soon as I saw ’em in the winder. The weddin’ was only a week away when he said he had some news I weren’t goin’ to be too pleased about. He said he’d met a girl before him and me went a-courtin’ and she told him she was up the duff.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Ronnie said, puzzled.

  ‘Bun in the oven – havin’ a kiddie.’ Dora’s voice was impatient.

  Ronnie gasped. This was worse than she imagined.

  ‘What a shock for you.’

  ‘Yes, it were. I knew how much he wanted kiddies ’cos he was an only one. We’d talked about havin’ no more’n four so’s they could be brung up decent and go to school, but now there’s this girl sayin’ she’s havin’ his kiddie.’

  ‘Do you think he really was the father?’ Ronnie said.

  Dora nodded. ‘No doubt about it. He said he wanted ter stay with me – keep ter the weddin’, but I knew our happiness wouldn’t last. He’d always regret givin’ up his kiddie, no matter how many kiddies he and I might have. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to have ’em. So I told him he’d have ter marry her and be quick about it. I made him promise not ter ever let her know he’d been about ter marry me, ’cos I didn’t want her ter feel bad. It weren’t her fault he’d met me.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He didn’t like it but I could see he were relieved. So he said, “All right. I’ll do it. But I’ll always love yer, Dora, and never forget it.” It fair broke my heart, it did.’

  Ronnie felt tears pricking. She swallowed. ‘Miss Dummitt, that’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard. Do you think he kept to his word about not telling her?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Dora looked into the smoky distance. ‘He never told her. And I know that fer a fact because she allus treats me like a friend. She’s never suspected nothin’ between the pair of us.’

  Something clicked inside Ronnie’s brain.

  ‘It was Fred, wasn’t it? Who you took me to meet – and Dolly – on Christmas Eve? He’s the man you were in love with.’

  Dora narrowed her eyes. ‘And how might yer know that, miss?’

  ‘I saw by the way he looked at you – several times. I realise now he still loves you.’

  Dora smiled. ‘And I him. But it in’t no good, and it’s no good harpin’ on about it.’ She took a few puffs on her pipe. ‘Sad thing is, Dolly lost the kiddie so I coulda had him after all.’

  She paused so long Ronnie thought Dora had come to the end.

  ‘And that’s the story of them shoes.’ Dora stuck one foot out and turned it this way and that. ‘Tonight’s the first time I’ve wore ’em. It feels a bit funny but I’m glad I did. Sorta lays the thing to rest.’

  ‘And you never met anyone else?’

  Dora grunted. ‘Oh, yes, I met someone else. But he weren’t no Fred.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘We’d best be gettin’ back to the other wenches. They’ll be wonderin’ what me and yous is yakking about.’

  ‘I promise never to breathe a word of any of this to the others, or anyone else,’ Ronnie said in a low voice.

  ‘See that you don’t, miss.’ Dora regarded her for a few moments. ‘Like I said … I don’t tell no one my secrets but I feel better this evenin’ than I have for quite a time, and that’s a fact. But let it be a lesson to yer. Fred were a decent bloke but there’s plenty out there that in’t. And yer don’t want ter get tied up with any of the bad boogers – like Will Drake, f’rinstance.’

  ‘You’ve warned me about him before,’ Ronnie said.

  ‘See that you heed me, miss.’

  No matter how Jess pumped her that night about the conversation, Ronnie kept to her word. But something had shifted between herself and Dora – she was sure of it. There was much more to the woman than she’d ever given her credit for. Dora, by losing Fred, had built a protective shell around herself to make sure no one ever came close to her again. What was so astounding was that the woman had poured out her secret to her – a trainee whom Ronnie had always thought Dora didn’t even like.

  Just shows how wrong you can be, Ronnie thought as she snuggled down in the bed she shared with Jess.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Regent’s Canal Dock, London

  January 1944

  Dora’s relentless orders had lasted six weeks, but to Ronnie it felt more like six months. But a ph
antom six months where she had never felt so alive. She felt she was truly doing her bit for the war effort and enjoying every minute. They’d had to go all the way back to Camden Town to unload the coal at the A.B.C. bakery, and had made another round trip, this time to Birmingham to take fifty tons of steel bars.

  ‘It’s supposed to be six weeks of solid trainin’,’ Dora told them when Jess grumbled that they were supposed to have a break after the standard six weeks’ training, ‘but we lost all them days when we were iced in, so yous’ll need at least another fortnight.’

  Ronnie groaned inwardly.

  ‘I think we’re ready to go on our own,’ Jessica said.

  ‘I’ll decide that one.’ Dora’s voice had a steely edge. ‘I hadn’t quite finished. Yous’ll all get yer time off now. Ver-ron-eek, Sally and May first, and Jess and Angela when they come back. Be back the evenin’ of day three.’ She paused. ‘Is that clear?’

  Jessica’s face dropped and she muttered something under her breath.

  ‘Yer got something to say?’ Dora demanded.

  ‘Yes.’ Jessica looked directly at the trainer. ‘When we’ve finished training and are down to three in a team for the pair of boats, I’d like to work with either Ronnie and Sally, or Ronnie and May.’

  Dora’s eyes were slits. She glanced at Angela. ‘Yer got a problem with Angela here?’

  Ronnie was silent, her nerves on edge waiting for Dora’s answer. Dora seemed to have forgotten that she’d been aggravated herself with Angela over the shoes.

  ‘Let’s just say I work well with any of the girls I’ve mentioned,’ Jessica said. ‘And I consider teamwork is vital in our work.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Dora said.

  Ronnie noticed Angela threw Jess a furious look. Jessica simply hardened her jaw.

  Thursday couldn’t come quickly enough. Ronnie was almost counting the minutes.

  ‘Promise you’ll look after Lucky, Jess,’ she said. ‘She’s really settled in well but she needs her food twice a day and some milk and water.’

  ‘I’ll see she doesn’t starve,’ Jessica said, ‘but I’m not looking forward to the next three days living with Angela. She’s a pain in the bum. But at least when you’re here it’s not quite so bad.’

  ‘Lucky will take the sting out of it,’ Ronnie said, chuckling, but grateful not to be left in Jessica’s place. ‘She’s so funny. She always cheers me up.’ She looked at her friend. ‘You won’t let anything happen to her, will you, Jess? She’s had a horrible start in life already, poor little thing.’

  ‘I’ll try not to.’

  ‘Jess …’

  ‘You go and have a good break,’ Jessica said. ‘I’ll take care of Lucky – and more to the point, I’ll take care of bloody Angela.’

  Ronnie grinned, satisfied. All she now had to face was Maman.

  As Ronnie walked up the path to her front door, carrying a bag of washing they’d never had the space or time to do, she wondered if her mother would grumble at her daughter’s appearance. She knew she looked dirty and dishevelled, that she was exhausted, but she felt like a different person inside. Stronger. Strangely healthier. And heaps more sure of herself. Would her mother recognise the changes?

  ‘What on earth have you done to yourself?’ Maman’s tone was a mixture of disbelief and horror.

  ‘It’s dirty work, Maman,’ Ronnie said, immediately deflated.

  ‘For goodness’ sake come in, child,’ she said, practically dragging her daughter inside. ‘I do not bear to have the neighbours see you in such a state.’

  There was a sudden flurry and a tan and white animal flew from the sitting room into the hall and jumped up at Ronnie, licking her hand as she patted him. Still in her raincoat she knelt down and flung her arms round him.

  ‘Oh, Rusty, it’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.’

  ‘Véronique, you will remove your coat which looks to need a good clean …’ She glanced at Ronnie’s feet. ‘And take off those filthy boots. Then you will have a bath.’

  Oh, the joy of soaking in hot water. Ronnie leaned back in the bath knowing she couldn’t be too long with her mother wanting to grill her. Quickly, she changed into her heavenly clean skirt and jumper, rinsed her face and brushed her short curls. By the time she’d carried out her mother’s instructions, hampered by Rusty who was close at her heels with every step, half an hour had passed. But now she was ready for Maman’s inspection. Ronnie braced herself for a telling-off for taking too long.

  ‘Maman—’

  ‘Hush, chérie. You will have a cup of tea first and some gâteau.’

  ‘You made it?’ Ronnie said, more astonished at the image of her mother baking than at not being reprimanded.

  ‘Non. Beatrice Mortimer made it and gave it to me yesterday. She said it was for when the girls are home. So you are home’ her mother smiled, ‘and we will try her cake. I will give her my opinion next time we meet.’

  Her mother might have made the tea, unusual in itself, but she still sat elegantly, her legs together and slightly angled to the side, as she waited for her daughter to pour. Ronnie suppressed a smile. Yes, Maman had softened a little lately, but she still expected to be waited on. Not irritated in the least, Ronnie poured them both a cup and handed one to her mother.

  ‘Merci, chérie. Now you will tell your maman that you have stopped this nonsense on the boats and have come home for always.’

  ‘No,’ Ronnie protested. ‘It’s not at all like that. It’s not nonsense. I’ve finished my training and when I go back next week I’ll be with two of the others and we’ll be on our own, taking cargo to Birmingham and bringing stuff back. I’m a fully trained boatwoman,’ she added with a note of pride.

  Simone threw her hands in the air. ‘I do not know what is ’appening with my daughters,’ she said. ‘They are not like me, their maman, at all. Not one. Not even my Suzanne.’

  Ronnie burst out laughing. ‘She’s probably the closest,’ she said. ‘You both love music and …’ She hesitated, trying to think of something else they had in common. ‘Well, music is one of the important things you both share,’ she finished, giving up.

  ‘Yes, chérie, you are right.’ Her mother smiled, seeming mollified, and taking a delicate bite of Mrs Mortimer’s cake. ‘Walnut and raisin. How, I wonder, did she manage to get such ingredients?’

  ‘She probably already had them,’ Ronnie said, not having a clue as to where Mrs Mortimer did her shopping. Nor did she particularly care, even though she liked James’s mother very much, the little she’d met her. The cake was too good to worry about how it came to be made. To change the subject she said, ‘Any idea when Raine and Suzy are coming home?’

  ‘I believe you mean Lorraine and Suzanne,’ her mother began, her eyes flashing with annoyance. ‘Suzanne writes she will come home next month and Lorraine says she will try to come on her next days off – whenever that might be. And “try” is not good enough. It means I am second-best choice.’ She drew her mouth into a disapproving line.

  ‘Well, she probably wants to see Alec when she can,’ Ronnie said. ‘It can’t be easy for them to meet very often when they’re working different shifts in different camps.’

  Though it would have been good to see her, she thought. She missed her sisters. Rusty gave a short bark as if to say, ‘But I’m still here.’ She bent down and kissed the top of his head. Something struck her. ‘Maman, when I arrived Rusty came flying out of the front room.’

  Simone had the grace to blush prettily. ‘Sometimes I have him downstairs to give him a change.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s not that you want him for a bit of company?’

  ‘Of course not,’ her mother retorted.

  ‘So it’s all right with you if I take him back with me?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘To the boats. Dogs are allowed. We see quite a few on the canals.’

  ‘I do not think he would like life on the water,’ Simone flashed. ‘He is us
ed to his home here.’

  ‘It was just a thought, Maman,’ Ronnie said, hiding a smile. Who would have thought it? Maman was actually calling the cottage Rusty’s home!

  For Ronnie the novelty of being home wore off quickly. If only Dora had given her more notice about the dates of her leave. As it was, there hadn’t been time for her to phone Raine to ask her if she could manage a day off to coincide with her three days until she was already home. The line hadn’t been very good, but she thought she heard Raine say she’d see what she could do. But her sister hadn’t sounded very hopeful.

  Ronnie sighed. Maman’s company could be stifling. If it wasn’t for Rusty she would have made some excuse to go back early. By the second day she thought she would scream with boredom, listening to Maman’s gossip of the neighbours, how frumpy they looked, how difficult it was to shop with more and more items being rationed … She hardly showed any interest in what her daughter had been doing these past few weeks, simply repeating that she hoped Ronnie would change her mind and be sensible and find a job in Bromley.

  Everywhere she went Maman wanted to accompany her.

  ‘I’m going to see Mr Lincoln tomorrow,’ Ronnie announced. To her delight Maman wrinkled her nose. There was no chance her mother would give the vet’s a second visit.

  ‘Ugh. He is a very nice man and I am sure very clever, but the smell in that place. I thought I would be sick. I cannot believe you worked there.’

  ‘I didn’t know you’d been to the vet’s.’

  ‘I took Rusty once as he kept whining. It drove me crazy.’

  Yes, Ronnie gathered that from Mr Lincoln’s letter but she knew better than to tell Maman he’d written. No, what was so strange was hearing her mother call him Rusty for the very first time instead of ‘that dog’. She decided it would be prudent not to draw attention to it.

  ‘Oh, what did Mr Lincoln say about him?’

  Simone hesitated.

  ‘Maman, what did he think was the matter?’ Ronnie said impatiently.

  Simone shrugged. ‘Maybe he was missing you.’