by Annie Murray
‘I mean . . .’ she began again, pushing herself upright. She picked up a pen and toyed with it round her lips as if she wished it was a cigarette. ‘You may not have had the most refined start in life or the best of education like some of these girls here. But I suspect, Private Fox, that you are no fool. So why do you persist in behaving like one?’
Molly was truly taken aback by this. She’d come expecting a rollicking, perhaps further punishment. She had not expected an attempt to find out anything about her. It felt alarming, but she was flattered by not being thought a fool for once in her life.
‘I dunno, Corporal.’ She lowered her gaze again.
‘You were very drunk last night.’
‘Yes . . .’
‘Does that happen often?’
‘You mean . . . ?’
‘I mean at home as well – not just here.’
‘Now and again.’
‘You could get yourself into a lot of trouble in that condition, you know that, don’t you? It doesn’t just make you rowdy, it makes you vulnerable.’
‘Yes. Corporal.’
There was a silence, which went on so long that Molly looked up, and found Phoebe Morrison watching her carefully. She had lowered the pen and was turning it round between her fingers.
‘Any problems at home?’
‘No more than usual.’
‘I see.’ Corporal Morrison took a couple of paces to her left, then turned and came back the other way.
‘You have one final week of basic training, Fox. Then you’ll all be assigned a trade or position somewhere. What do you see yourself doing?’
‘I want to do summat good!’ Molly said, eagerly. ‘You know – guns or driving or summat. That’s what I joined up for.’
‘I see.’ She turned on the ball of her foot again, moving back and forth. ‘And do you think, in the light of your conduct, that such ambitions are realistic?’
Foolishly, Molly said, ‘I dunno.’
‘Well’ – Phoebe Morrison became brisk and dismissive – ‘you’ve got a week to try and redeem yourself. You’d better try and behave, hadn’t you? Your pay will be docked, as you were told last night. Just try not to get yourself into any more trouble. Dismiss.’
Phoebe Morrison watched Molly depart from the guardroom, the frown troubling her face again. Fumbling in her pocket, she brought out the cigarette she had been longing for and lit up, sucking in the smoke with eager relief.
Something about her meeting with this magnificent-looking girl troubled her. She was a proper honeypot, there was no doubt, with that figure and hair – no wonder the chaps were all buzzing round her! She was a splendidly big, barely educated, rough working-class girl. So what? So were plenty of the others. But as Molly passed through her training, one minute fawningly eager to please – and, it had to be said, showing signs of being quite capable – and the next, outrageously flouting not just army regulations but the basic laws of decent behaviour, she had got under Phoebe Morrison’s skin. Fox was irritating – somehow all the more so when she was keen to please, so hungry for praise! – a delighted child’s smile spreading across her face at a word of approval. She was awkward and maddening and gauche. Why did she bring out this protective feeling, of tenderness almost, of somehow wanting to save her, even when she was almost driving one mad?
‘For heaven’s sake, don’t waste your energy,’ Corporal Morrison told herself. ‘They’ll all be scattered to the four winds by this time next week anyway.’
Fourteen
18 Kenilworth Street
Jan ’41
Dear Molly,
We haven’t heard from you so I hope you’re all right. I hope you’re keeping out of mischief and doing what you’re told. Drop me a line when you get the chance. It’s not the same here without you.
We’re all going along. There’ve not been any big raids since the beginning of the month thank goodness, but all the queuing for this and that takes up a lot of time. We’ll be queuing to breathe next! Violet’s been poorly with a bad throat but she’s better now. Our Mom’s quite good as well, for this time of year. But we’re taking each day as it comes as no one thinks the raids are over yet. Still, we hope. Oh, I told Mrs Button I was writing and she said to send her love and thanks for your note but she’s not one for writing letters. She and Stanley are going along all right. I’ve not seen your Mom and Dad but I’ve not heard of any trouble.
I’ve got a bit of news to tell you. Norm and me have got ourselves engaged. He’s bought me a ring, nothing fancy. We’re not setting a date yet, with the war on and everything so uncertain. I don’t see how I could leave Mom, not with so much going on.
We’d have to find somewhere very near. But we’re promised, anyway.
Write to me, won’t you? Oh – guess who I saw the other day – Katie O’Neill. Remember her? She didn’t see me. Must’ve had things on her mind because I walked right there in front of her. I didn’t think she looked too good, but who does these days.
I’ll have to go now, and get the tea on. I hope you’re looking after yourself Molly.
Love for now, write back,
Em x
Molly put Em’s letter away, happy to receive it. It had been a surprise somehow, and all the more that Em seemed to be missing her. In the past it had always been Molly who did all the running for Em’s friendship.
She began on her final week’s basic training fired with determination. The way Corporal Morrison had spoken to her – the fact that she had bothered to speak at all – had given her a completely different sense of herself. The Gorgon had seen something in her, that was how it felt. Those words of faint praise, I suspect, Private Fox, that you are no fool, had made her want to do anything to gain the woman’s approval. She clung to them as a lamp in the darkness, giving her hope. Perhaps she could really make a go of the army if she tried! Could even be good at something? She’d heard people talk about the army as ‘making a man of him’ – why could the army not make something of her? She knew she’d got off to a terrible start with almost everyone. Lena and Cath were all right, though Cath had withdrawn into herself and didn’t seem as bright and friendly as when they first arrived. Honor just accepted everyone as they were. But as for the rest of them in Hut J, Molly knew they didn’t think much of her – that was putting it mildly. She was the rough one, the loud one who couldn’t be trusted and most of them steered clear of her. Why had she carried on like that? She felt really foolish now, and regretted it bitterly. But she told herself that soon they’d all be split up anyway and she could make a fresh start when they began training to do something interesting.
The final week passed quickly. Molly tried her very hardest, on the parade ground and in all the other training and lectures. They had to learn about military law, about documents and crime and punishment. And all about cooking, or, as the army called it, ‘messing’. How to get the best results from the quartermaster’s stores, how to avoid wasting fat. This last lecture was especially revolting.
‘Glad I shan’t be cooking,’ Molly heard one of the girls say as they came out. ‘Best not to know too much about what goes into what we’re eating!’ They were walking a little behind her, but she still heard the girl go on in a low voice, ‘That blasted Fox girl seems to have quietened down a bit at last.’
‘That’s the army for you,’ the other said. ‘Knocks the stuffing out of everyone eventually.’
‘I gather the Gorgon had words with her.’
‘Ah – well that would knock the stuffing out of anyone!’
Molly didn’t feel she’d had the stuffing knocked out of her; instead, she was full of a burning desire to please Corporal Morrison and to do better. She put all her effort into doing her best that week. She passed every inspection with flying colours, her buttons gleaming, earning herself a nod of approval and a ‘Not bad, Fox’ from Corporal Morrison one morning which lit up her day. She tore round the park during the morning PT, and drilled as if her life depended on it, pulling her s
houlders back and jumping to attention. None of the classes had been too difficult and she was looking forward now to the end of the week, to finding out to which trade she had been assigned, and to beginning again somewhere else. And God knows, she was going to be different! There’d be no more going out getting kalied, no more clowning her way through drill. She would show them she could be miles better than she had been so far.
She was even one of the first into Hut J that night, intending to get ready for bed, where she would write a letter to Em before Win instructed them to put out the lights. It was a cold, windy night, unpleasant to be out in, and as she stoked up the stove to keep the place halfway warm, several of the others drifted in, including Honor, who smiled dreamily at her. Molly was just about to settle down to write when Cath came in, walking fast between the beds. Something about the way she was walking caught Molly’s attention. Cath looked as if she was holding herself in in case she exploded. Her face was grim and tense.
‘All right, Cath?’ Molly asked.
‘Umm.’ She kept her head down, not meeting Molly’s eyes, and wouldn’t say any more. She got herself ready for bed, climbed in and pulled the bedclothes up high so that only her rusty hair was visible. No one else seemed to have noticed. Then Lena came in and started talking to Molly. She pointed at Cath and mouthed, ‘She all right?’
Molly shrugged and whispered, ‘Not sure. She wouldn’t say anything.’
It was only once the lights were out and Molly was half asleep that she became aware of Cath crying. Some of the others were already breathing steadily. At first she wasn’t sure, the sniffs and sobs were so quiet. But after a time she climbed out into the cold and sat on Cath’s bed.
The sobs stopped for a moment. Cath clearly didn’t want to be heard.
‘Cath – what’s up?’ Molly leaned close, whispering. ‘This ain’t like you.’
There was a long silence, then a little more of Cath’s head appeared over the bedding. ‘Nothing,’ she said moistly. ’Don’t worry about me. You go back to bed, Molly, thanks anyway.’
‘Come on, Cath – it ain’t like you to be upset like this.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Cath whispered savagely. ‘Well how would you know that for sure?’ Then her aggression crumpled and she began crying again. ‘Oh my God, Molly, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I’m done for.’
As Molly was wondering what on earth could have made her friend feel so desperate, she became aware then of a tiny finger of light and someone else moving towards them. Win tiptoed across, lighting her way with a blackout torch, and sat on the other side of the bed, where she looked questioningly at Molly in the feeble light from the torch. Molly shrugged. She was annoyed by Win’s arrival. Cath was her friend. Why did Win always have to put herself in charge of everything?
‘Cath—’ Win touched Cath’s shoulder, trying to pull back the bedclothes, but Cath clung to them fiercely. ‘It’s Win. Do let us help. What’s the matter?’ Her tone was friendly but brisk.
There was no reply.
Molly leaned closer and, speaking very gently, said, ‘Look, love, if it’s that bad, why don’t you let us help yer? A trouble shared and all that. You never know, we might have some bright ideas.’
Cath sat up suddenly, as if surrendering, pulling her knees up to her chest. Hesitantly, Molly put her arm round Cath’s shoulders. ‘Whatever it is can’t be that bad.’
‘Oh yes it can. I thought you might have all guessed by now, the way I’ve been. I mean, it’s no good – you’ll all have to find out in the end.’ She wept, weakly.
‘Oh there now,’ Molly said, feeling so sorry for Cath, who had been so bubbly and friendly when they all arrived. ‘Why don’t you tell us and we’ll see if we can help?’
Cath wasn’t at ease with Win so she spoke to Molly, shaking her head with disbelief. ‘I’m so frightened, Molly. I don’t know what’s going to become of me. I . . .’ Her voice cracking again, she said, ‘I’m certain now – I’m going to have a baby.’
Molly heard Win give a slight gasp, but for once she couldn’t think what to say. Molly was utterly shocked as well. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that this might be the trouble.
‘I’ve been feeling poorly, a bit sick and fainting and . . . I’ve missed now, twice . . . They’ll throw me out and I’ve no idea where I’ll go – I’ve nobody . . .’
Still trying to take this in, Molly said, ‘But what about going home – your family?’
‘I can’t go home. What would Daddy be doing with another mouth to feed and all the disgrace of it? And there’s nothing for me there. Oh God, I wish my mammy was still alive!’ She wept broken-heartedly.
‘Does anyone know? Any high-ups, I mean?’ Win asked. The conversation was all conducted in a fierce whisper.
Cath shook her head, wiping her eyes. ‘I don’t know what to do, where to go. I’ve been going half mad thinking of it.’
‘Poor love,’ Molly said, hugging her. She was frightened for Cath, full of dread. There were such stories about girls having babies, bad enough to make your hair curl.
‘I can’t keep it up much longer, can I?’ Cath said. ‘I didn’t know, not when I joined up, I honestly didn’t. It was someone in Birmingham, a fella, only saw him twice and he sort of made me . . . He wasn’t even very nice . . .’ Her tears flowed again. ‘Oh why did I let him? I just thought it’d be all right the once, you know, he was so pushy for it.’
‘Ain’t they all?’ Molly said. ‘You poor babby. That bastard wants seeing to good and proper, that ’e does.’
Win, seemingly unable to cope with the way the conversation was developing, cut in with, ‘Look – is there no chance at all of you marrying this man?’
‘No! I told you – I don’t even know where he is and he’s a creep. I’d not want to chain myself to him for life, I can tell you!’
‘You can’t go on like this. You’ll have to tell someone – before you get your posting.’
‘I know. I know!’
There was a pause. Molly could feel Cath’s desperation.
‘What’ll happen to me?’ Cath asked in a tiny voice.
‘I’m afraid I don’t know,’ Win said. ‘There must be some provision, some way of. . .’ She trailed off, out of her depth.
‘Look, I’ll come with yer if you want,’ Molly said. ‘Go and speak to the Gorgon to start. So you don’t have to do it on your own.’
‘No – there’s no need to drag you into it,’ Cath said. ‘Thanks anyway, Molly. But I’ll have to face up to it.’
These last words were spoken with such desolation that Molly felt tears come to her eyes. How dreadful for Cath to be so alone in the world.
‘I wish there was summat we could do to help.’
‘It’s not your fault, is it?’
‘No, but I feel for yer, love.’
‘I’m terribly sorry, Cath,’ Win said awkwardly. ‘You must feel awful. But you are going to have to own up.’
‘I know. There’s going to be no hiding it once I’m swelled up like a balloon, now is there?’
‘Oh Cath.’ Molly gave her a squeeze. She had no real idea what might happen to Cath, but she felt so sorry for her.
There was nothing else they could do except go back to bed. Molly didn’t sleep well that night, full of sad turmoil about the girl lying next to her and fearing what would become of her. She could hear Win tossing and turning in bed too.
When she woke the next morning, Molly was disturbed to find Cath already gone. Win came over to her looking very worried, and sat down close to her. ‘Did you see her leave?’ she whispered. Molly saw a couple of the others glace curiously at them.
‘No – I mean she was there ’til not long ago because I could hear her moving about,’ Molly said. ‘I must’ve dozed off because I never heard her get up or nothing.’
Win looked very uneasy.
‘You don’t think she’s done anything . . .’ Molly trailed off, awful thoughts rushing into her mind. She pictured
Cath lying on the railway track.
‘I just hope not,’ Win said. ‘I think I’d better go and see the Gorgon, right away.’
Win went to see Phoebe Morrison and Molly waited outside for her, growing more and more uneasy. A few minutes later Win appeared, looking slightly relieved, if not exactly happy.
‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘Cath’s seen her. She must have got up very early, gone straight there.’
‘Where is she?’
‘On her way to the station, apparently. They’re packing her off to some home where she can have the baby.’
‘Well then what’ll happen to them?’
It was Win’s turn to shrug. ‘I’m afraid I really don’t know.’ Molly saw how pale and strained Win looked in the morning light.
‘You did yer best,’ Molly said as they walked slowly towards their breakfast.
Win looked at her, surprised. The corners of her mouth twitched up for a moment, then she sighed. ‘Thanks. But I feel awful. I suppose I feel I should’ve noticed – should have been able to do more for her.’
‘No – none of it’s your fault.’ Molly shook her head. ‘How were you to know? You can’t go blaming yourself. Poor old Cath though. Some factory Jack up an alley I s’pose. Wants putting up against a wall himself and shooting, ’e does.’
To her surprise, Win laughed. ‘You certainly have a way with words.’ She looked at Molly, attentively. Seeming slightly puzzled, she said, ‘And you’re really a very kind-hearted soul, aren’t you?’
Molly felt the blood flame in her cheeks. ‘I don’t know about that. But I don’t half feel sorry for the poor cow.’
‘You were good to her last night. I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say.’