‘Well that could be good, or not so good,’ Hal said, lighting his cigar. ‘I mean, there might not be enough women to go round. Or if they’re country girls, and not like the tramps around here … But then, a uniform goes a long way with a simple country gal.’
‘You’d best watch your mouth, now. Who you calling names? Not that nice Sadie you’ve been hankering after?’
Hal stared gloomily out at the darkening streets. Since he’d met her at the dance in town, Sadie had been on his mind. She was so pretty and had seemed just as sassy as the others. Yet, Sadie had managed to outfox him every time. She loved to dance, and her legs … Well, those were film star legs. He sighed. Sadie, for all her cute green eyes, was a flirt and a cock-teaser.
‘I’m sick of Sadie and her ways,’ he said. ‘She says she don’t have a boyfriend, and then she says she’s promised to an army guy. She’s a tease and she knows it.’
‘She’s no innocent, ain’t Sadie. I’ve heard—’
‘We know what you’ve heard. Well I don’t buy it.’
‘You sayin’ if you can’t crack it, nobody can?’
‘I’m sayin’ she don’t play fair. The others know the score. If they want nylons … well …’
‘We know,’ Clayton laughed, ‘it’s one before an’ one after. So why we goin’ to see her?’
‘Seein’ her’s just a perk. I’m on business. You and me’s goin’ to say our goodbyes to the locals. Good relations an’ all that. And I’ve got some business.’
‘You’re a grabbing bastard. You don’t need the money.’
‘If I don’t, someone else will,’ he said, swinging the jeep around a tight corner on the road out of the camp, making the cases of whisky and gin in the back tinkle. ‘And I’ll need money to entertain those nice southern girls.’
When Henry opened the pub door and pushed aside the thick curtain, the two Yanks were already handing out drinks and Johnny Fin was playing the piano. The women followed him through the low-slung clouds of cigarette smoke and he found them a table by the fire in the pub’s lounge. The Yank sergeant brought over a pint of beer for him and a sherry for Jenny. When he was introduced to Nellie, he smiled bashfully.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard such a lot about your son from Sadie. He sounds a real wonderful guy.’
Nellie flushed with pride and, as most women did, immediately fell for his handsome, open face and guileless charm. She shyly accepted a sherry, and Hal was able to draw Sadie away from the group, explaining that she had promised to sing for them on his last night.
‘Sadie, you goin’ to miss me at all?’ he asked, when they were out of earshot.
‘I’ll miss all you boys,’ she said, sipping the gin and tonic he’d bought her.
‘All of us, equally?’ he asked, trying to put his arm around her waist.
‘We’ll all miss you, Hal,’ she said, removing his arm. ‘Mum and Henry were ever so grateful for that tinned stuff you gave us, and I know that—’
‘Kiss me,’ he said, pressing her against the wall.
‘Don’t, not here,’ Sadie said, wriggling free of his grasp. ‘Jack’s mother …’
‘Well, come outside.’
‘I thought you wanted a song,’ she said, smiling at him over her shoulder, as she headed for the group around the piano.
He didn’t follow. Instead, he joined Clayton at the corner of the bar, where his light eyes flicked constantly around the crowded room and back to Sadie, who was chatting to Johnny Fin and the landlady by the old upright piano.
‘What’s up with Hal?’ Johnny Fin asked.
‘He’s really sweet on you,’ Vera, the landlady, said as she picked up the empties from the piano’s scuffed lid. ‘It’s his last night. You don’t know when your luck’s in, you don’t.’
‘We’ll all miss him,’ Johnny Fin said, with a toothless, gummy grin.
‘Wouldn’t hurt you to give him a cuddle,’ Vera said, before heading back to the bar.
The first time Sadie had seen Hal at a dance in town she’d been taken by his big-boned good looks. In the shabby dance hall, his strong white teeth, wide shoulders and thick sun-bleached hair looked completely out of place, as though a movie star had stepped down from the screen and asked her to dance. Yet, Sadie soon found that he’d none of the easy-going manner of many of the other GIs she’d met.
She gazed over at the bar where Hal had a crowd of locals around him. All the women – no matter how young or old – fell for him. Everybody loved him. The little kids and the old folk saw his broad smile and his strength. He made them feel safe. Hal drew people to him and he was desperate for everyone to like him. Hal wanted to charm everyone. It didn’t matter who it was: it could be the priest who wanted help sorting out a children’s party, or one of the old folk who was short of coal, or someone needing a lift to the hospital. Hal would be there listening politely, and they would hang on his every word. It was the only time he looked relaxed; the only time the coldness left his eyes.
‘He’ll get over it,’ Sadie said. ‘Look, he’s over there now chatting, buying another round.’
Vera didn’t reply. Holding a cluster of pint glasses in each hand, she went back over to the bar where Sadie saw Clay take her arm. Clay was Hal’s shadow, following him everywhere. When he caught her watching them, he smiled and whispered something in Vera’s ear.
‘Another lot of knock-off, no doubt,’ Johnny said, squinting at the pair through the smoke from his cigarette.
‘Come and help us would you, Sadie, love?’ Vera called, opening the flap on the bar to let Clay through. ‘Hal’s brought some food for later.’
Hal smiled self-consciously at the group around the bar, and took a second round of drinks over to Henry’s table.
‘I was wondering,’ he said, putting the tray of drinks down. ‘If the ladies would excuse us, could we have one last game of darts?’
‘It would be my pleasure, lad,’ Henry said.
Over time, the coating of nicotine on the vault’s cream walls had turned into sticky, brown rivulets. The tables were stained, and the battered chairs – rubbed to a dull sheen by the movements of numerous backsides – were ancient. A domino school of older local men had colonised the tables next to the listless fire, others were hunched over games of cards and a small group of GIs were sipping beer and playing a friendly game of darts.
As Hal and Henry walked in, the landlady and Sadie began handing plates of ham, bread and pickles over the bar.
‘I’m leavin’ tomorrow,’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘So as this is my last night here, I thought we could have something to eat and drink, and a last game of darts.’
‘We’ll all be sad to see you go, lad,’ one of the elderly domino players said, to a general mutter of agreement from the other drinkers.
‘Who’s this new lot coming in?’ another asked, accepting one of the plates of sandwiches.
‘Well, not all of us are moving,’ Hal said, ‘but there’ll be some changes. There’s another camp opening down the road. It’s for Quartermaster Truck Companies. Not supposed to say how many,’ he said and winked. ‘You should see that place.’
‘Nice?’ Henry asked.
‘Naw. It’s a dump.’
‘Not for you Yanks, then?’ someone else asked.
‘Black guys,’ Hal said, blowing the smoke of his fat cigar in the direction of the younger group of GIs at the dartboard.
‘Black? Black soldiers?’ Bert Lyons, the landlord, asked.
Hal’s pale eyes hardened. ‘Yep. But they’re not over here to fight. They don’t fight. Can’t trust a black with a gun.’
Hal gazed around the room, and the group of GIs playing darts became watchful.
‘So, this is my last night here. My last chance to beat Henry at darts,’ he said, smiling broadly.
‘Well, if they don’t fight, how come they’re over here?’ Henry asked.
‘They just back up the real GIs. Maintain trucks,
fetch and carry. More trouble than they’re worth most of ’em, I’d say.’
‘I’ve never seen one, except on the pictures,’ Bert Lyons said.
‘Lou’s boyfriend has,’ Sadie said, handing out the plates of food to the domino players. ‘He’s in the merchant navy. He’s seen ’em on ships, and in Africa. I reckon there’s good and bad in everybody.’
‘Got to be very carefully handled,’ Hal said, ignoring her comment. ‘Problem is, you can’t never trust ’em. Don’t know what they might do.’
‘Best to keep clear,’ one of the elderly domino players agreed, sucking on a silver-skinned pickle.
‘Can’t do that if they’re here,’ his companion pointed out.
‘Well, you’ll have to be awful careful,’ Hal said, with a concerned look at his audience. ‘I can’t understand why you’ve never had the posters.’
‘Posters?’
‘Yep, you know, the government puts up warning posters when there’s a danger, or sayin’ how to treat foreigners.’
‘Never seen anything like that,’ Bert Lyons said.
‘Well, it’s lucky that I called in. I mean, a lot of it ain’t their fault. It’s like any creature, you’ve gotta learn how best to handle them. One thing you must never do, because it causes embarrassment, is to ask them to sit down …’ he said, pausing for a moment, savouring the attention of the men in the shabby, little vault. ‘Tails. They got tails.’
‘Never. I’ve never heard of that,’ Vera said.
‘Well, it’s not something that’s mentioned. Very sensitive. Our government don’t like it brought up. Especially not, well if you’ll pardon me, with another country’s citizens. We like to keep it to ourselves. But, these poor guys will soon be here, so it’s best you know. You see,’ Hal said, offering Henry a cigar, ‘if you’ll pardon me bein’ frank, you and me, us white folks, our tails dropped off long ago. But black folks … well, they still have one. Only a small one.’
‘But it don’t drop off?’ asked one of the elderly drinkers.
‘No, sir, and you see it makes it hard for them to sit like we do. And I know you wouldn’t like to upset the poor guys. Can’t understand your government not having given you this information. What I’m saying, sir,’ Hal said, turning to Bert Lyons, who was leaning on the bar, ‘if these guys come in here, it’s kinder not to ask them to sit down. You see unless they get stirred up, they’re simply happy fellows, and it would upset them. They’d sit to be polite, but, you see, it would be very painful with a tail. Then there’s the food,’ Hal added.
‘Do they have special food, like?’ Vera asked.
‘No. They eat same as us, but when they get hungry …’ Hal paused and gazed around again at his audience. ‘Well, I don’t want to say this, because I know you’ll think I’m exaggerating, and it ain’t commonly talked about, but they bark. Not a loud bark, like a hound. It’s a sort of growl at the back of the throat. Something between a whimper and a growl. It’s part of the way they’re brought up. It’s to tell their mammies where they are, an’ that they’re hungry. They don’t sit down to meals, you see. At home, their mammies would go out and give them their food outside. It’s just a different way of doing things.’
The vault fell silent. Mouths munched appreciatively on slices of thick pink ham enclosed in soft white bread, but most of all, relished the generous lashings of salty golden butter. In the lull after all the customers had been served with the food, Sadie felt a cold draught, as the air from the quietly closing vault door brushed her legs; the younger GIs had left unnoticed, their half-finished drinks on the table beside the abandoned dartboard.
‘They’re real nice folk, mostly,’ Hal continued, picking up the darts. ‘My pappie was real fond of ’em. Where I’m from, folk know to be careful. They’re like children, you see, an’ it’s unfair on them to get them excited.’
‘It doesn’t seem right to have them come to war,’ Vera said.
‘Well, like I say, ma’am, they’re only helpin’ us real soldiers out. They can be trained. We been trainin’ ’em in the South for years. Oh, we sure do know all about training black folks. But if you hear this, well it’s not a bark exactly, more kind of a mooing sound, then it’s best to watch out, ’cos when they’re hungry they can sometimes get real snappy.’
CHAPTER THREE
When she woke, Ruby heard someone lifting the back-door latch. The sharp metal clack was followed by the sound of her granddad coughing and then a rasping noise, as the edge of the toilet door caught on the stone flags. She sat up, pulled on her vest and jumper, and with her legs tucked under the blanket, unhooked the blackout curtain.
The frost had made a feathery pattern on the inside of the window, and Ruby used her thumbnail to scrape away two holes to see through. Everything was still. Instead of yesterday’s grey clouds, there was a clear turquoise sky, yet a low mist hid the fields and the stream. By contrast, the garden was in dazzling sunlight. All the vegetables were covered with a thin coating of frost, and the leaves of the old marrow plants on the Anderson shelter had been turned into silver twine.
The cold made her fingers sting, so she snuggled down again, hugging them under her armpits. Ruby lay for a while, her feet tucked under her nightdress, watching her warm breath quickly turn to plumes of dragon smoke in the freezing room. Then closing her eyes, she tried to imagine the clear sky outside was really over the sea and she was back in the bedroom she’d shared with her mother. But instead of the sound of her mother breathing softly in her sleep, Ruby heard her grandfather’s clogs clattering back across the flags and thudding on the stairs.
‘Don’t be long, lass,’ he called, gently pushing at the open bedroom door. ‘I’ve brought you the big case. Your mum’s things … that Ethel gave you. I know there’s not much room in here, but I’d keep it by you.’
In the living room, Jenny was coaxing heat from the few remaining embers of last night’s fire.
‘There’s some tea in’t pot,’ she said.
She handed Ruby the teapot from the fender. Then, unhooking the shovel and brush from the brass stand in the hearth, she began cleaning the old-fashioned fireplace. From her seat at the table, Ruby watched Jenny, her large bottom encased in a floral overall, rock vigorously from side to side. At Everdeane all the old fireplaces had been replaced by smart modern ones – cream tiles in the guest’s lounge and pink in all the best bedrooms.
‘Cut yourself a slice of bread,’ Grandma Jenny said. ‘When you’ve had that, you’d best have a good wash. Have you got some other clothes?’ she asked, using the chair to pull herself up from the floor.
‘I don’t know,’ Ruby said. ‘Auntie Ethel packed my things.’
Taking out a tin from her overall pocket, Grandma Jenny sat down heavily on the chair next to her and began to roll a cigarette.
‘You’ll have the rest of your school things. That can’t be your only gymslip,’ she said, licking the fragile cigarette paper and carefully lighting the end.
‘I’ve left school. I’ve been helping Auntie and Uncle. Before that, I’d only been going part-time because of the evacuees from Manchester.’
‘Well, we’d best look,’ Jenny said, getting up from the table. ‘You’re only going to be here for a while. Not long … just until we get things sorted out. I can’t have you under my feet all day. We’ll go to the school and see if you can go there until …’
‘I go back to Everdeane?’
‘Most likely. Is that what you want?’
Ruby nodded. ‘My dad will be coming for me, expecting me to be there.’
Jenny nipped the end of her cigarette and got up from the table. ‘Let’s have a look at this case they sent you with,’ she said.
The small suitcase revealed a change of underwear, a second gymslip, a navy-blue cardigan, a green-and-black tartan kilt, a green jumper and matching cardigan, two pairs of plain white socks and one lacy pair, and two red tartan hair ribbons. Ruby gazed at the pile of clothes and wondered if she should say t
hat the gymslip was too short.
‘She hasn’t sent any of my summer things, because I’ll be going back before then,’ she said.
Jenny didn’t reply, but nodded in the direction of the large case. ‘What’s in there?’
‘They’re Mum’s things.’
When Jenny tipped the clothes on to the bed, the little room filled with Pearl’s perfume.
‘Well, a lot of good these are,’ she said, lifting up a beaded silk slip.
Underneath the mound of silk and glitter, they found the black velvet dress Ruby had worn for her mother’s funeral and a pair of patent leather shoes. There was also a pair of black woollen gloves and matching beret that she didn’t recognise, along with a half-completed scarf her mother had once tried to make for her father.
‘These’ll do,’ Jenny said, picking up the gymslip and the green jumper from the bed. ‘You can wash in the kitchen. Use my hairbrush and put them ribbons in as well.’
Ruby ran cold water into the sink, barred the back door and undressed. When the living-room door opened, she held her rumpled clothes tight against her naked body. Jenny bustled in, carrying a kettle full of hot water.
‘Tha’s got nowt I haven’t seen afore,’ she snapped, pouring the water from the sooty kettle into the sink. ‘Now, hurry up.’
Ruby obeyed, rubbing the coarse flannel over her body, reddening the delicate flesh already mottled with shame and embarrassment. Before her mother had died, she couldn’t wait to grow up. In their bedroom at Everdeane, when she’d watched Pearl dressing to go out for the evening, she’d loved to try on her evening dresses and use her powder and lipstick. Sometimes, if her mother was in a good mood, she’d help her to put on the make-up. On those nights, they would stand together in front of the long mirror, and Pearl would hug her and say they could be mistaken for sisters. Then she’d died. Now Ruby didn’t want to grow up; she wanted to slip back to the dark winter afternoon before the accident, and before her body began to sprout hair and breasts.
By the time she was dressed, Jenny had changed out of her overall and was wearing a black coat with a fur collar and a bright-red hat. The hat was perched just above the row of yellow kiss-curls and skewered into place by a large hatpin in the shape of a bird.
Ruby's War Page 5