Soldier Girl

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Soldier Girl Page 33

by Annie Murray


  But when she reached the billet back in Dover, everyone was so pleased to see her that she forgot her regrets for the moment. It was good to be back.

  ‘How’s your mother?’ they all kept asking, and Molly had quickly to make something up.

  The best thing was going into her room and having Cath say, ‘Hey there, slacker! You’re back then?’

  ‘What’s it look like?’ Molly retorted, happily.

  ‘Bet you’ve had a good night’s sleep at least. All right for some. They’ve been shelling the bejaysus out of this place. How’s your mother?’

  ‘Oh – she’s all right,’ Molly said, throwing her bag on the bed. ‘She’ll live. We’re not close, to tell yer the truth.’

  ‘Oh – so she’s not on her deathbed then?’ Cath pulled on her trousers, tugging at the legs.

  Molly sat down, tugging off her shoes. ‘No, more’s the pity.’

  Cath looked shocked for a moment, then creased up with laughter. ‘Oh, that’s grand – there’s not many you can say that to, I’ll bet!’

  ‘No,’ Molly said. ‘Not when we’re all so frightfully fond of Mummeh!’ she added, taking off the accents of some of the posher ATS. ‘Hey – d’you want a cuppa? I’m parched.’

  ‘Yes – with lots of sugar. I need all the energy I can get. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a busy night. I’ll come down with you . . . Oh!’ Cath slapped her hand over her mouth.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I completely forgot! He was here, yesterday – looking for you!’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Him – that Len bloke. He was ever so put out that you weren’t here. Oh my Lord – how could I have forgotten?’

  Molly’s heart was racing. ‘But what did he want? Did he say more? Did he leave a note or anything?’

  ‘Yes – well no,’ Cath said maddeningly. ‘I mean, not in so many words. He went off in a paddy when he found out you weren’t here. He didn’t leave a note. But he wants you back – it’s obvious!’

  Len’s visit threw Molly into turmoil. Why had he come, suddenly, without any warning? Hadn’t she made it clear that she wasn’t interested? That they had to break it off? Surely by now he’d gone back to Sheila and made it up, and they’d had their childhood sweetheart wedding in a Norfolk village church strewn with roses, as they had planned all along? But his coming had stirred her up. She’d been so adamant back then that it must not go on. Maybe she’d been too hasty? Len was so decent, so much nicer than most of the men she met.

  Sitting at her radiolocation screens that night, once again she had to wrench her mind away from her itchy skin and her own thoughts and keep her eyes fixed on the incoming planes as they crossed the coastline, intent on London. It was a windy night, and she could hear it whistling around the hut. Surely Len would write again? Should she go and try to see him? No – she’d never get more leave . . . Keep your mind on the job! she ranted inwardly at herself. Just get through the night.

  That night was one of several involving heavy bombardment inflicted on the south-east of England. The team came off duty freezing cold and stiff, longing for baths and bed and pints of hot tea.

  ‘Winnie says it’s “quite like old times again”,’ Cath said, quoting the Prime Minister, and yawning as they were driven back to their billet.

  ‘Huh – bet they can do without any more of it in London,’ Molly grunted. Mr Churchill’s words made the bombing sound almost homely, even if they were meant to be encouraging. ‘We could do without it here, come to that.’ On top of the raids, the intermittent boom of the shells, aimed at Dover from across the channel, played on the nerves as well.

  ‘Every bomb a broken heart,’ Cath said.

  As winter faded and warmed into spring, there was a series of such nights. The raids began mostly in the early evening and were over by midnight.

  Molly was quite glad to be busy. Len’s visit had shaken her. She waited to see if a letter followed, but there was nothing. After a time, the thought of him began to fade into the background again. Her skin gradually cleared up, and life in the army took over once more.

  One evening, as they did on many nights when they had free time, a group of them went to the pub. It was the end of March, and the evenings were lightening gradually. All that month, the raids had kept coming and it was good now to get out and have some fun.

  They had a number of favourite watering holes in the area. There was one Molly liked especially, a quaint place only a mile or so from the billet, with a crackling fire in the grate and a piano. The place had been heaving with servicemen of a great mix of nationalities, a scattering of WRNS, and of course the ATS girls. Turns had been taken at the piano, with songs from different countries – mainly sung by the English, Czechs and GIs – and a great sing-song by all. For a while they cleared the floor and those who were in the know showed off their jitterbugging skills.

  ‘Here—’ A cheerful-looking English lad leaned over to Molly. ‘Let’s have a drink, before the bleeding Yanks drink it all!’

  ‘Oh – no ta,’ Molly said. If he bought her a drink he’d think he was in there. And she’d had enough.

  ‘D’you wanna dance?’ He indicated the gyrating figures behind them.

  Molly laughed. ‘You don’t want to go lifting me off the floor, I can tell yer! Ask Nora over there – she’s only a little ’un!’ Nora, however, was already on the arm of a GI. The bloke disappeared, grumpily. And so she had fended off yet another approach.

  At last the girls spilled out into the dark and windy night, Molly with Cath, Jen and Nora – who had also turned the bloke down – all very merry, arms linked and still singing and laughing. Molly felt outrageously happy. She could go out, have a few drinks and a good time, without the need to drink herself into oblivion – that was progress all right.

  ‘Here, Cath—’ She nudged her friend in the ribs, and talked loudly over the buffeting wind. ‘You seemed to be getting on all right with that Czech fella – what’s ’is name? He fancied you rotten, you could see a mile off.’

  ‘Yeah – ’e did that – no denying it!’ Jen nudged her from the other side. ‘Come on, Cath – it’s time you had a fella!’

  ‘Just shut up about it, you two!’ Cath said merrily. ‘His name’s Tomas, if you must know – but there’s nothing in it. We were just passing the time.’

  ‘But he’s so handsome!’ Nora said.

  ‘So you go out with him then!’ Cath retorted. ‘I’ve told you – I don’t mind a drink with a fella, but I’m not interested in all that’ – she put on a drawling tone of mockery – ‘courting and falling in love nonsense . . .’

  Jen and Nora, who had both spent the evening being chatted up and fondled by two GIs with big lazy smiles, both groaned.

  ‘Oh you’re hopeless!’

  ‘Fancy passing up a fella as gorgeous as that! Did you see his hair – lovely thick curls!’

  ‘Well you can’t feed a family on pretty curls,’ Cath said tartly, and all the others laughed. ‘God,’ she added, ‘I sound just like Sister Anselm at my school back home!’

  Soon they were turning along the cliff road towards their billets. Jen started up singing ‘Ten Green Bottles’, which was about all they were sober enough to cope with in the way of songs. Still with their arms linked, leaning into the wind, they swooped in a line from one side of the road to the other.

  ‘I know!’ Molly called out, when they’d still only lost three green bottles from the wall, but it was getting boring, ‘How about “Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay”?’

  This led to more vigorous swooping and giggling.

  ‘Stop!’ Nora begged. ‘I can’t get my breath!’

  They paused beside a low wall, perching on it. A few other ATS passed them, all merry as well, and called out to them. It was quiet then, suddenly.

  ‘Let’s come back here,’ Nora said. ‘When the war’s over. Let’s meet up and have a holiday – when we can go on the beach and swim!’

  ‘You’re on!’ they all said, tho
ugh they had no idea if they would and when that might be.

  ‘I can’t see any stars tonight,’ Cath said, looking up. ‘Too cloudy.’ Sometimes the night sky here was an arch of starlight, but not tonight.

  ‘Listen,’ Molly said. ‘What was that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought I heard . . . It sounds as if someone’s in trouble.’

  A muffled sob came from back down the road along which they had just come. They waited, listening. The sounds were very restrained, but there was no doubt, someone was coming and they were very upset. The four of them waited, not sure what to do, and in a few moments, a lone figure appeared out of the darkness. She didn’t seem to notice they were there, and made another sound of repressed distress.

  ‘Hey—’ Molly whispered to Cath. ‘Look – it’s Ruth!’

  ‘Go on – you go and see if she’s OK,’ Cath said hurriedly. ‘We’ll walk on. Come on, girls.’

  ‘What? Why me?’ Molly was protesting, but already the other three were vanishing into the darkness. Ruth was almost upon her, walking with her arms folded tightly, head down, sobs breaking out from her in spite of her attempts to stop them.

  ‘Ruth,’ Molly called softly, going over to her. ‘Are you all right? It’s me – Molly.’

  Ruth had stopped, rigid in the middle of the road, horrified that she had been overheard when she thought she was alone. She was the class of girl who had been schooled never to show her emotions.

  ‘I – yes, of course.’ Scrabbling in her pocket, she produced a handkerchief. ‘Thank you for asking.’ She blew her nose very firmly. ‘I’m quite all right, only . . .’ Her voice disintegrated again.

  ‘You don’t sound it, love,’ Molly said, feeling suddenly motherly and no longer intimidated. ‘I don’t want to be nosy or anything, but I just heard yer coming. Is everything all right?’

  ‘Well . . .’ Ruth stood helplessly and, unable to control her feelings, dissolved into tears again. ‘Oh dear me . . . I can’t seem to . . .’

  ‘Tell yer what – come over here a minute.’ Surprised at herself even as she did it, Molly steered Ruth to the wall. ‘Just ’til you calm yerself down. You don’t want to go in in that state, do yer?’

  ‘I feel so awful,’ Ruth burst out as they perched on the wall. ‘I feel such a fool – and so, so – dirty!’

  Molly was startled. What on earth had happened? She put her hand encouragingly on Ruth’s upper arm for a moment.

  ‘Come on, love – it can’t be that bad, can it?’

  ‘Well it feels bad to me!’ Ruth said explosively. ‘I’m not used to all this!’

  Another gaggle of chattering ATS were coming along the road, and Ruth paused until they’d passed out of earshot.

  ‘I think that was some of my lot,’ she said, more calmly. When she spoke quietly, her voice didn’t sound quite so odd. ‘The thing is, Molly – I’m not like you. I’ve had a very sheltered upbringing, all academic and bookish, and I’m not used to men at all. I mean, since the war’s started, I’ve been out with one or two, but nothing very serious . . . And they were never – I mean, something’s happened. Men have changed, I think.’

  ‘What happened?’ Molly asked, gently.

  ‘Well – we went for a drink – one of the pubs a bit further into town. And I met a young man – he seemed very eager, quite flattering actually, for someone like me.’ Molly was touched by this frankness. Ruth’s pale face stared straight ahead, framed by her black hair. It was true, she was not much of a looker, especially with those rabbity teeth, and there had always been something forbidding and snotty about her. But Molly could see that she wished she wasn’t like that.

  ‘He seemed – well, charmed by me. Said his name was Rodney and he’s not long been back from Italy – came up through Sicily and everything. And he was all right to look at. I suppose I was just – well, I was pleased to find anyone who was interested . . .’ She gave an awkward little shrug.

  ‘Anyway, he’d had quite a lot to drink and he started getting rather amorous, and then he asked if he could walk me home.’ Her voice grew stiff with embarrassment. ‘Well, as soon as we got outside he was on to me, wanted to kiss me and so forth. So I let him a bit. I wasn’t sure what else to do and I sort of wanted him to at first. Well then it all got – he got very insistent. It was horrible. He took my arm and pulled me into an alley – I think between a shop and a house and he was pulling up my skirt and trying to – well, he was so pushy. And then I realized . . . he had his – you know – out . . . He wanted to, you know, go all the way . . . So I screamed and made a terrific fuss and I managed to push him off and get away from him.’

  ‘Did ’e chase yer?’ Molly asked, worried for her.

  ‘No, well – not far anyway. I suppose he was having to – well his trousers would have fallen down . . .’ She stifled a hysterical giggle at this. ‘But the worst of it was the things he shouted after me. Awful. Words I’d never even heard before. And that I was a tease and a . . . a . . .’ She broke down again, sobbing and rocking back and forth. ‘I never meant to – I was frightened to death! I didn’t know what he was going to do – and he shouldn’t have, should he? Not without asking – just assuming?’ She looked round at Molly, wide-eyed, in honest need of her opinion.

  ‘No,’ Molly said. ‘He shouldn’t. There’s some tough ’uns coming back from over there after all they’ve had to do. But he shouldn’t just go on like that. It’s not right.’

  ‘It was horrible,’ Ruth said. ‘The way he looked – his eyes rolling. Oh gosh – is it always like that? I’m so inexperienced, you see.’

  As if I’m the one to ask what it’s supposed to be like, Molly thought. ‘No,’ she said reassuringly. ‘It’s s’posed to be better than that. And it wasn’t your fault. He was just out for what he could get – like a lot of ’em.’

  Ruth was staring at her with great seriousness. ‘Golly,’ she said. ‘I feel such a fool. I mean, what if I run into him again? It would be mortifying!’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Molly said. ‘He was probably too drunk to remember anything in the morning anyway.’

  ‘Really – d’you think so?’

  ‘Yeah – don’t start losing sleep over the likes of ’im.’

  ‘I say, Molly – you know, you really are rather a good sort.’

  Molly wanted to feel sarcastic about this remark, but found herself very pleased instead.

  ‘Well – I dunno . . .’

  ‘I mean, when we all started out, basic training and all that, I found you utterly terrifying. You know – our backgrounds are so different, and you were so . . .’ She grasped for words that didn’t sound too insulting.

  ‘Rough?’ Molly suggested. ‘Loud? Rude?’

  ‘Well – something like that. You were just so different.’

  Molly thought for a minute. ‘Where I come from, it was rough,’ she said. She found a frankness rising in her too. ‘There’s plenty of decent folks there, kindly types. Not everyone’s the same. But my family’re – well, the dregs. They’re vile.’

  ‘Molly! You don’t mean that!’

  ‘Yeah – I do.’ Her voice was bitter. ‘I don’t even want to start on telling yer. You wouldn’t believe it if I did. The war’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me in one way – it’s got me away from them. Taught me quite a few things really. Taught me that drowning your sorrows ain’t the answer, for a start.’

  ‘Golly,’ Ruth said again. She sounded awed, respectful. ‘It sounds as if you’ve really been up against it.’ Then she said. ‘D’you know – I feel heaps better. Thanks for being so nice, Molly.’

  ‘That’s OK.’

  ‘We’d better get back or the other Kinnys’ll think I’ve been kidnapped.’

  ‘Well you nearly were!’

  They laughed, walking slowly up the road together.

  ‘I’m glad I got away too,’ Ruth said. ‘Otherwise I’d have known a whole load of mathematical formulae but not much else.


  ‘I’d’ve been in a factory all my life, I s’pose.’

  ‘You’re far too intelligent for that,’ Ruth said briskly.

  ‘Am I?’ Once again Molly found herself enormously flattered.

  ‘Oh yes – stands out a mile. Even when you were at your naughtiest!’

  They reached Molly’s billet first.

  ‘Well – I can go on from here,’ Ruth said.

  ‘You all right on yer own?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’ll be fine. Thanks so much, Molly.’ Her voice turned a little gruff. ‘You’ve been such a brick. I think I’ll keep out of the way of chaps for a bit from now on. Goodnight!’

  With an amused smile, Molly watched her disappear into the darkness. Ruth really wasn’t such a bad old stick after all. And was she, Molly, really intelligent, like Ruth said? The thought glowed warm in her for a long time.

  Forty-Four

  By the end of March, the bombing was dying away, though Dover still had to endure the bombardment of shells from Calais. Rumours were starting to circulate that the Germans had yet another weapon up their sleeve, but as yet there was no sign of it. As the weather improved, the ATS girls enjoyed a short time of relative peace in Dover, before being told that it was time to move on again. Their battery was being transferred – back to the east coast.

  Molly was not especially pleased.

  ‘I could do without all this boom-boom-boom all the time,’ she said to the others. It set everyone’s nerves on edge. ‘But I like it here.’ She liked the house, high on the cliffs, with its beautiful views. And, though she didn’t say it to the other girls, there was one new friend she was reluctant to part with – Ruth. From that night when they had talked in the dark, they had discovered a mutual respect and a curiosity about each other’s lives. Slowly, awkwardly at first, they had become friends.

  ‘And you do make me laugh, Molly – the things you come out with!’ Ruth said. She was gradually lightening up and becoming less stiff, more youthful. Molly found that she could also be quite funny at times.

 

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