The Factory Girls of Lark Lane: A heartbreaking World War 2 historical novel of loss and love

by Howes, Pam

  ‘Nice to go into work feeling all jolly,’ Millie said. ‘Sod this war, let’s get them planes built and the war won and then our boys can come home and we can have our lives back.’

  ‘Hear, hear, Millie, gel,’ said a large man, slapping her on the shoulder and nearly knocking her flying.

  ‘Oi, Freddie, you watch it or else.’ Millie put up two fists in a mock fighting gesture to their foreman.

  ‘Oh aye,’ Freddie said, a twinkle in his eye. ‘You and whose army, queen?’

  ‘Sod off.’ Millie grinned and linked her arm through Alice’s as they made their way inside and to the locker room where their khaki overalls, and the turbans Alice hated, were stored.

  The noise was deafening on the factory floor as the girls took up their places on the benches. Parts of plane-wing framework awaited them along with the riveting guns that were used to drive the rivets into the frames. It was a tricky job and accuracy and concentration were all-important. There was no time for talking as they set to work. The only sound was the pop, pop, pop of the guns. Alice’s wrist began to ache after a few hours and she put the gun down on the bench and flexed her fingers, before resuming her task. She glanced sideways at Millie, who looked miles away, in a trance and staring straight in front of her as she pressed the gun time and again.

  A quick peek at the clock on the wall at the far end of the room showed ten more minutes to break time. Thank God. Big Freddie, the foreman, collected the completed frames and took them down to where the wings were being assembled and covered with skin, the last job on the current plane they were building. After a test flight down the runway and in the murky clouds above Liverpool, it would be handed over to RAF 611 Squadron, which was based in Speke. Their fleet of Halifaxes would soon be gracing the skies and doing the job they’d been commissioned to do.

  Alice and the rest of the team cheered as the hooters sounded for break time. It was always good to catch up with everyone over a mug of hot tea and a mountain of toast – as long as the baker had delivered the bread order. Fingers crossed. They’d all want to know how the wedding went. She hoped they’d keep their bawdy comments about her wedding night to themselves as she didn’t want her lovely memories tarnished by cheap jokes.

  As the Halifax girls collected their tea and toast and found a table, Big Freddie wandered around the canteen with a sheet of paper on a clipboard and a pencil behind his ear. He stopped at each table to speak to the occupants and then scribbled something down on the paper.

  ‘Wonder what Freddie’s up to?’ Alice mused, taking a sip of tea. ‘Blimey, that’s hotter than ever today. Watch you don’t scald your lips, girls.’

  ‘You moaning again, our Alice,’ Freddie teased as he came to stand beside her.

  ‘Cheeky,’ she said, grinning up at him. ‘I never moan.’

  ‘Right,’ Freddie began, ‘with Christmas approaching and a lot of us separated from our loved ones, the management thought it would boost morale if we put on a show. We aim to do it on the last Friday before work finishes for Christmas, so that’ll be the twentieth. The canteen will put on a bit of a spread and the idea is that anyone who fancies doing a spot, like singing or dancing, telling a few jokes or summat, can get up and entertain us. Me and the lads will put a makeshift stage together at the bottom end of the canteen, shift the tables out of the way and arrange the chairs so it feels like we’re in a theatre. So, ladies, what can I put you down for? I’ve already got a Wilson, Keppel and Betty, and a Flanagan and Allen. I could do with some singers. Who’s willing to give us a bit of Gracie Fields or Vera Lynn, then? Come on Millie, you know you can sing like an angel, I’ve heard you.’

  Millie blushed furiously and almost choked on her toast. ‘I can’t bloody sing. Where’d you get that idea from?’

  ‘You sing on the bus and your voice is better than anybody else’s.’

  ‘Yeah, come on, Millie,’ Marlene yelled from down the other end of the table. ‘You sing beautifully.’

  ‘They’re right,’ Alice agreed. ‘You could knock Gracie into a cocked hat if you put your mind to it.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Millie said, looking all flustered. ‘Who’ll play the music?’

  ‘The works’ band will,’ Freddie said. ‘They’ll be playing a few Glenn Miller tunes so we can all have a dance, and sing some carols at the end of the night. I’ll put you down for a couple of Gracie Fields songs then and perhaps you and Alice here can do a couple of other songs of your own choice. I’ll leave you to think about it and let me know what you’ll be singing by the end of the week.’ He walked away as Alice stared after him, shaking her head.

  ‘We could do the Boswell Sisters act,’ Millie said, her enthusiasm growing. ‘“Alexander’s Ragtime Band” and that “Cheek to Cheek” song from Fred Astaire’s Top Hat film. You like that one, Alice. Come on, it’ll be good fun.’

  ‘Youse two will be great,’ Marlene said. ‘You’ll bring the ’ouse down if Hitler don’t do it first.’ She laughed at her own joke and shoved half a slice of toast into her large mouth.

  Alice sighed and chewed her lip. It couldn’t do any harm after all. And it would stop her mooning around and moping after Terry. She and Millie could learn all the words and practise their dance steps.

  ‘Okay then, let’s do it.’

  A group of girls from the shell assembly line were seated at the next table and cheered as Alice spoke.

  Alice grinned. ‘You won’t be cheering when we get it all wrong on the night. You’ll be chucking rotten eggs at us.’

  ‘They’d have to be powdered ones then,’ Josie, a slender girl with ginger hair, said, laughing. ‘Not seen a real egg for weeks around here.’

  Josie and her friends all had the tell-tale yellow-streaked hands and faces, as well as clothes, of the shell-making girls. No matter how hard they tried to wash it off during the day, the powder from the cordite used to pack the shells stayed put until they took showers after stripping off their working clothes in the locker rooms. Alice was so grateful that she’d been taken on as a riveter instead of a munitions girl. There were rumours going around that more women would be recruited to making shells and planes next year if the war continued. Some of the men on the production line would be conscripted and it would be down to the women left at home to carry on with the running of the factory in order to supply the troops. Alice hoped she might be offered a supervisory role in time, although there were still tales flying around from them who thought they were in the know that the war would be over in the next few months. Somehow, Alice couldn’t see it happening.

  She became aware that Marlene was shouting something across the table at her, and turned her attention back to the woman.

  ‘Sorry, Marlene, I was miles away. What did you say?’

  ‘Aw, were you thinking about that lovely ’ubby of yours? Bless him. I said, I ’ope it all went well on Saturday an’ that the air raid didn’t spoil things for the pair of youse.’

  Alice smiled. ‘We just made it in time. Spent the first couple of hours of our married life in a shelter, but it was okay.’

  ‘An’ the Adelphi? Is it as posh as they all say?’

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ Alice hoped Marlene would leave it at that and breathed a sigh of relief as the end-of-break bell sounded. She jumped to her feet and pulled Millie up, leading the way back upstairs.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ Millie said. ‘Mam plays the piano; she can play any tune at all by ear. I’ll ask her if we can practise at ours while Dad’s out doing his duties and we can sing and dance to our hearts’ content. What do you think? We’ll need costumes as well. Mrs Floyd at the post office is good with a needle and thread so she might help us out.’

  ‘Sounds great,’ Alice said as they took their places at the bench, new pieces of framework awaiting their attention. ‘And it’ll be something nice to do. Take our mind of our men-folk, all two of yours,’ she said, lowering her voice and winking as Millie laughed and blushed.

  5

&
nbsp; By the time the week before Christmas rolled around, the Rootes entertainments team were as word- and step-perfect as they were ever going to be. There’d been a couple of rehearsals on site with the bus coming back for the entertainers after dropping the rest of the workers off. ‘Chesney Allen’ and ‘Bud Flanagan’ had their costumes sorted, with Chesney wearing his Sunday-best suit and hat and Bud his rather large wife’s fur coat and straw hat, with strict instructions not to ruin it, or he needn’t bother coming home!

  Kindly Mrs Floyd had knocked together costumes for ‘Wilson, Keppel and Betty’ from a couple of old white sheets and some tea towels, and Alice and Millie had a few different outfits fashioned from clothes out of their own wardrobes. Josie from the shell bench had agreed to make up the third sister in the Boswell Sisters act, and Big Freddie, whose wife had made him a suit from an old pair of floral curtains, was planning to do a few Max Miller songs and risqué jokes. He’d been heard singing ‘Mary from the Dairy’ on more than one occasion over the last few days, making them all laugh.

  Alice was really looking forward to the show, which Freddie insisted on calling The Rootes’ Revue. The last couple of weeks had flown by, and preparing for the show helped take her mind off the fact that Terry was now somewhere in Europe with the rest of the 42nd Lancashire Infantry Division. She’d had two letters from him since their wedding day and a Christmas card, but didn’t have a clue when she would next hear from him. Her mam had started working her half days at the Lark Lane newsagent’s and had been asked to do even more. So far so good. She seemed to be enjoying it and was so tired at night on her working days that she was sleeping better.

  Even though young Brian wasn’t around to make Christmas morning special with his excited squeals when he opened his stocking, they’d put up a tree and made an effort with some holly and ivy that Alice had fashioned into a garland and hung from the mantelpiece. They’d had a lovely Christmas card from Brian that he’d made himself, and a class photograph. He was seated on the front row, looking clean and tidy, hair neatly trimmed and smiling broadly. He’d put weight on, but looked happy enough and well-cared-for, which, although they both missed him badly, made Mam and Alice feel very lucky that he’d landed on his feet.

  Mrs Lomax had invited Alice and her mother round for Christmas dinner and though Mam had pulled a face and said she’d think about it, Alice put her foot down.

  ‘Terry’s mam will be all on her own if we don’t spend the day with her. It will be lovely to have dinner cooked for us as well and we can take something round for tea later to help out,’ Alice said. ‘You’re missing our Rodney and Brian, but at least you’ve got me. Think how lonely she must feel with Terry God knows where. She’s family now, Mam, so we’re going.’ She added slyly, ‘And you know how lovely and warm it always is in her bungalow compared to here.’ Mam had half-smiled and been forced to agree.

  Alice peered around the edge of the makeshift stage curtains draped across the front of the raised platform. Millie and Josie, standing behind her, giggled nervously as Freddie announced that the next act was ‘The Boswell Sisters’ and to give them a big hand. Two lads, on curtain duty, pulled back the drapes and the audience cheered and clapped as the threesome stepped forward. The works’ band struck up with the opening chords of ‘Alexander’s Ragtime Band’ and the girls’ nerves flew out of the window as they began to sing and tapdance to the rhythm, the audience helping out with the chorus. Wearing blue dresses and white peep-toe shoes, their hair neatly styled by Millie’s mam last night, Alice thought they cut quite a dash. So did the audience, if the amount of wolf-whistling from the men was anything to go by. Spurred on by the cheers and claps, they wiggled their hips and sang their hearts out, finishing the spot with ‘Cheek to Cheek’.

  Freddie came back on stage as the audience shouted for more. The girls trooped off and Freddie announced that Millie would be back later with a few Gracie and Vera numbers. Backstage, Alice felt elated and happy and hugged her co-singers, who hugged her back.

  ‘I really enjoyed that,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘Have a quick drink to wet your whistle, Millie and then you’ll be back on.’ They could hear the audience laughing as Freddie introduced ‘Flanagan and Allen’ to uproarious cheers. ‘This was a great idea of Freddie’s. It’s really cheered everyone up.’ As she spoke, the loud wail of an air raid siren rent the air. ‘Oh no! Typical. Just when we’re having some fun. Bloody Hitler! I hate him for dictating our lives.’

  The girls grabbed their coats and gas masks and followed the crowds leaving the building to hurry into the air raid shelters on site. Along with the docks, Rootes was always a possible target and the fear of a strike filled Alice with terror. With the amount of explosives in the factory for the shells, the whole place could go up and take them all with it. They squeezed alongside members of the audience and Freddie and a few other cast members and found seats on benches against the walls. After much cursing and complaining Freddie got to his feet.

  ‘Sod this,’ he shouted. ‘Jerry’s not ruining our night after all that rehearsing. Let’s carry on with the show in here. Come on, Bud and Chesney, you were just about to begin. Give us a turn.’

  The band members had a trumpet, clarinet and saxophone with them and they struck up with ‘Underneath the Arches’ and followed with ‘Run Rabbit Run’. Everyone joined in and clapped along. And then Freddie asked Millie to do the best she could with what bit of accompaniment there was, and she gave them a rendition of ‘We’ll Meet Again’ and Judy Garland’s ‘Over the Rainbow’.

  The rest of the stay in the shelter was filled with carol singing and then the siren wailed again with the end of the warning.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Freddie said. ‘I’m starving and there’s a buffet to be tackled. Come on, let’s get back to it. A big thanks to all of you who managed to take our minds off what’s going on out there.’

  A big cheer went up and everyone clapped.

  Alice linked her arms through Millie and Josie’s as they made their way back indoors.

  ‘Well, that was fun, if nothing else.’ She sniffed the air. Something, not too far away, was burning and there’d been loud explosions towards the Mersey. ‘I just hope no one was injured tonight, so close to Christmas Day. Hope our mams got to the shelter okay.’

  After several more air raid warnings and hours spent in shelters with strikes all over Liverpool by the Germans, Christmas morning dawned crisp and cold, but bright. Alice was up early as she and Mam planned to attend the carol service at St Michael’s church before going to Mrs Lomax’s. Mam had managed to get their bacon ration and two eggs, kept under the counter for favoured customers, and they enjoyed a cooked breakfast, the first Alice had eaten since her stay at the Adelphi. She dipped the last corner of toast in her egg yolk and savoured it; heaven only knew when she’d get another.

  She and Mam exchanged presents. There was some fancy soap and matching talc for Mam, and a box of embroidered hankies. Mam gave Alice a small blue bottle of Soir de Paris perfume, her favourite, and a silver picture frame to put her wedding photo in. Alice had collected the photos and put them in a little album. Now she could have the one of Terry and herself in pride of place. She hurried to get it from the album and slipped it into the frame.

  ‘It looks lovely,’ she said, popping the frame onto the mantelpiece and running the tip of her finger over Terry’s smiling face. ‘Thanks, Mam, it’s perfect.’

  ‘You’re welcome, chuck. Nice to have it on display. We’d better get ready and make our way to church. I expect it’ll be freezing in there, so wrap up warm. Now, where did we put Terry’s mam’s gifts? We need to leave them handy so we don’t go without them later.’

  Alice dashed into the front room that they never used much these days – there was never enough coal to spare to heat two rooms – and brought back a carrier bag.

  ‘All wrapped and ready to go.’ She placed the bag on the table and went out to the kitchen. ‘We’ll take a few of the mince pies th
at Freddie let me bring home from the buffet the other night as well,’ she said, putting the tin on the table.

  ‘Well, make sure you keep a couple back for our tea tomorrow.’ Mam frowned. ‘I’m not being mean but, well, Mrs Lomax has more money than us and I bet she’s already got some mince pies in.’

  Alice shook her head and took two mince pies back into the kitchen. She laughed to herself, thinking how those wouldn’t last two seconds if Brian was here. She hoped he’d liked his present. They hadn’t heard from Rodney for nearly three weeks now and she could only hope that he was well and that all the troops would at least get a decent hot dinner today, if nothing else. Millie had received a Christmas card and letter from Jimmy last week and she’d been oohing and aahing over it every spare minute. She’d not heard a word from Alan, although she’d sent him a letter and card in early December.

  Alice linked her mam’s arm on the walk to the church. It was still slippery underfoot, but once they’d crossed over Aigburth Road the pavements were clearer and Church Lane had been shovelled free of snow for the parishioners’ comfort. St Michael’s was packed and it wasn’t half as cold inside as Mam had predicted. The pipes that ran along the floor in front of the pews were warm and Alice slipped her shoes off and placed her frozen feet on them, sighing blissfully and ignoring Mam’s frown and her whispered, ‘You’ll get chilblains doing that.’ Alice raised her eyebrows. If it wasn’t one thing it was another with Mam. Cold in your kidneys if your back wasn’t covered; brain damage if you took a bath or washed your hair when you were having your monthlies; and now chilblains.

  The pew filled quickly and Alice shuffled along a bit further, dragging her discarded shoes with her. The vicar greeted everyone from his pulpit and the first carols were sung loud and clear. Two things struck Alice that morning. The congregation consisted mainly of women, and there was an absence of young voices in the choir, and only two male baritones.