by Rosie Clarke
‘Well, I’ve seen the way they look at her … and I’ve heard a couple of them laughing about her behind her back. You know the way it is, Emma. If a woman lets herself down … the men have no respect for her. Not the way they do for you.’
‘And you,’ I said, smiling at her. She was hardworking, and seldom complained. Sheila must have upset her. ‘I hope you are wrong, Pamela. We can’t stop the girls who come to the club going home with the men. We aren’t responsible for what happens when they leave, but we should stop heavy drinking if we can. That wasn’t the idea when this club was set up. It’s a social club, a decent place to meet friends. If people want to drink they should go to the pub.’
She hesitated, then, ‘Mrs Reece and a couple of the other ladies were saying we should ban any women who drink at the club. We can’t stop the men, though we can ask them not to bring spirits with them …’
‘Perhaps I should have a word with Sheila,’ I offered, knowing that was what she had hoped for all along.
‘Well, she might take it better coming from you.’
‘I shan’t say anyone told me,’ I said. ‘But I’ll change shifts with you, Pamela – so that I’m here when Sheila is supposed to be helping. If I see her drinking, I can tell her about it then.’
Now, in the showroom, I looked at Sheila, observing the changes in her face, changes I had not taken too much notice of before this. She looked pale and unhealthy, her face a little puffy, dark shadows under her eyes.
‘Are you feeling well?’ I asked. ‘You look a bit tired, Sheila. Haven’t you been sleeping?’
‘I’m all right,’ she replied, her tone abrupt, harsh. ‘As well as most people. You’re lucky, Emma. Your friends see you don’t go without, but it’s harder for the rest of us. When I leave work, I have to queue for ages to get food, that’s if there’s anything left. Anything that comes in fresh during the day is usually gone by the time I get there.’
‘You get your basic rations,’ I said, feeling a little hurt by her tone. ‘We all do, Sheila. I know I’m lucky that Jane gives me some tinned food sometimes, but it isn’t that often, and I always share it with everyone. Most of the time, we have to manage on what we can get from the shops the same as everyone else. I queue most days, too. Usually as soon as the shops open. It’s best to go first thing, before you come to work.’
‘I’m too tired to be out that early,’ Sheila said. ‘Lizzy cries half the night. She drives me crazy …’
Why didn’t I believe her? I had the feeling that she was lying, that there was another reason entirely for her being too tired to go shopping early in the morning.
I found the idea that Sheila was letting herself drift into bad ways upsetting. It would have been easy for any woman to take that road these days. The Americans seemed to have so much money, far more than our own men, and they often had luxuries that we simply could not buy. Wonderful stockings that made anything on sale in our shops look dowdy, and chocolate, even perfume so I had been told.
Hardly surprising then that the girls liked to be with them. I knew there had been a few scuffles in the club between British soldiers and their American allies. It was usually over a girl and so far nothing terrible had happened, but that was because we had never served alcohol. If some of the men were bringing spirits in with them, it could make tempers flare out of control.
‘You’re on tonight at the club, aren’t you?’ I asked, looking at Sheila. She nodded, her mouth sulky, turned down at the corners. ‘I shall see you there then. I’ve changed shifts with Pamela.’
‘Why?’ Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘I suppose she has been gossiping about me?’
‘I’m not sure what you mean, Sheila? Why should she gossip about you?’
Sheila looked angry, but the doorbell went at that moment and two customers came into the shop together. For the next hour we were both busy serving, making out invoices and having the customers’ purchases packed in the cardboard boxes they had brought with them.
In the past we had always provided new boxes, but these days our customers helped out by bringing back their old ones.
When at last they had gone, the opportunity to talk was over. It was time for me to leave for my fire duty.
‘I’ll see you this evening then,’ I said to Sheila. ‘Don’t be late. We’re cooking corned beef hash tonight. Jane sent me a box of tinned stuff and I’ve had a sack of potatoes delivered. It will take a while to peel the carrots and spuds. The men enjoy a cooked meal, and it’s only a whist drive tonight.’
‘I’m not sure I shall be able to come,’ she said, her eyes evading mine. ‘Lizzy wasn’t well this morning. If she’s no better I might have to stay home with her. Annie has to have some free time. She hasn’t been out for ages. If I were you, Emma, I should telephone Pamela and ask her to come in.’
I stared at her, but there was nothing I could say to compel her. All our efforts at the club were voluntary. No one could force Sheila to come and help us out.
‘I’ll come in on Saturday,’ she said. ‘It’s a dance then. I like helping out on Saturdays.’
I went out and left her without a word. I did not believe for one moment that her daughter was unwell, but it was Sheila’s choice. If she did not want to come to the club that night there was nothing I could do to persuade her.
Pamela agreed to come in and help, even though her sister was visiting and she had arranged to go to the pictures with her that evening.
‘It’s too much for you to do alone,’ she said. ‘Especially as it’s the night for a cooked meal. Of course I’ll come – though I don’t believe Sheila’s daughter is ill. She has used that particular excuse before, several times in fact.’
Pamela and I were kept busy with the cooking and serving for most of the evening. Afterwards, we left the dishes soaking in hot water while we went out to listen to one of the men singing sentimental songs. Some of them had really nice voices, and quite often they would find someone to play the piano and give us an impromptu concert.
That evening, the singer was an American. He had a strong voice and had been crooning Thanks for that Lovely Weekend, but now he had upped the tempo and was belting out, Ma I love your Apple Pie.
Everyone clapped enthusiastically. We liked nothing better than when the men got together for a sing song round the piano. When he had finished, another man took his place and starting singing about the White Cliffs of Dover.
‘Hi …’ The American who had just left the piano tapped me on the shoulder. ‘You’re Emma … I’ve heard about you from a mutual friend.’
‘Oh …’ I raised my brows. ‘Who was that? Jane Melcher?’
He shook his head. ‘No, Miss Sheila Tomms. She says she knows you from way back …’ He glanced round the room. ‘I was expecting to see her here this evening. I’m sure she said she would be here. Any particular reason why she didn’t come?’
I was about to tell him Sheila’s daughter was ill, then checked myself. If Sheila was calling herself by her maiden name she might not want him to know she had been married – or that she had a child. It was not for me to tell him the truth.
‘I’m not sure why she couldn’t make it,’ I said. ‘But she said she would be here on Saturday.’
He frowned. ‘I probably shan’t be around by then. I guess it doesn’t matter. It leaves me at a loose end this evening though … any chance of you coming out with me after you’ve finished here? I know a place where the drinks are good …’
‘It’s very nice of you to ask me,’ I replied. ‘But I don’t go out with any of the men. I have someone special …’
‘I’m glad to hear that, Emma.’
As I heard the teasing voice behind me, I spun round in surprise, hardly believing it as I saw him standing there in his uniform.
‘Oh, Jack,’ I cried. ‘Jack my darling … you’re back. You’re back!’
I flung myself into his arms, and he caught me to him, kissing me passionately right there in front of everyone. There was a
rousing cheer from the men watching, which made me blush as Jack let me go.
‘Sorry, General,’ the soldier who had asked me out said, looking awkward. ‘I didn’t know the lady belonged to you.’ He saluted smartly, obviously shocked to find himself in such exalted company.
‘At ease, soldier,’ Jack said, smiling easily. ‘If Emma had said yes, you might have found yourself on the way to the Pacific pronto, but as she said no I’ll excuse you.’
The soldier grinned and moved away. I looked at Jack, my heart racing, still unable to believe that he was actually here at last.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ I said. ‘Your letters haven’t been arriving as often or as promptly as they used to … I wasn’t sure if you were really coming to London.’
‘Nor was I,’ he admitted ruefully. He touched my cheek with his fingertips. ‘There have been delays and problems, Emma. However, I am here now and I’m staying for at least a month, maybe more. As it happens, I have the next ten days free. I arranged it that way so that we could be together. I hope that is OK by you?’
‘Of course it is,’ I said, thrilled at the prospect of being with him again. ‘Have we really got ten whole days, Jack? No business deals, no important meetings?’
‘None at all. I thought we might go away somewhere?’
‘Yes, please!’
‘How long before you’re finished here?’
‘I must help Pamela with the washing up,’ I said. ‘It wouldn’t be fair to go off and leave it all to her. Talk to the men, Jack. Amuse yourself for twenty minutes … OK?’
‘Fine,’ he said, and smiled. ‘I play the piano – is it all right if I have a go?’
‘I’m sure it is,’ I said. ‘Go ahead. I can hear you while I’m working in the kitchen.’
I went though to the kitchen as Jack sat down at the piano and began to play, bright, cheerful tunes that the men could sing along with. Pamela looked at me as I began to wash the stacks of dirty plates and glasses. ‘Why don’t you go and leave this to me?’ she asked. ‘You always do your share, Emma. I wouldn’t mind finishing off alone.’
‘No, I shan’t do that,’ I replied, smiling at her. ‘It wouldn’t be fair on you, Pamela. Besides, Jack seems to be enjoying himself for the moment – and we’ve got ten days to be together.’
‘Is that him playing now?’ I nodded and Pamela went to the door to listen. ‘He could be a professional. He’s good …’
‘I think Jack is good at anything he does,’ I replied. I looked at her seriously. ‘I was going to speak to Sheila this evening if she had come in, Pamela. I shan’t be around now for a few days, but if you get any more trouble with her, let me know when I come back. I will speak to her then, see if I can sort things out.’
Pamela blushed. ‘Maybe I was going on about it a bit too much,’ she said. ‘I suppose it’s hard for her, living with her cousin and no husband. Maybe there’s no harm in her having a boyfriend. I shouldn’t judge everyone by my standards.’
‘There’s no harm in her having friends, but she still shouldn’t drink here,’ I said. ‘She knows the rules, Pamela. If she does it again this weekend, I’ll talk to her about it again.’
‘All right.’ Pamela smiled at me, relaxing now. ‘Enjoy your holiday. Do you know where you’re going?’
‘I have no idea – but it would be lovely by the sea if the weather stays like this.’
‘Yes. I was thinking I would like to get away this year. My sister is visiting me now, but has invited me to visit when she goes home to Hunstanton. I might go down there for a few days if I can manage it.’
‘Yes, I should if I were you. It makes everyone feel better to get away for a while.’
I had finished washing the dishes. I dried my hands, picked up my coat and went into the other room. Jack saw me and stood up. There were cries of disappointment as he left the piano, but it was late and the club would be closing very soon now.
As I went outside with Jack, I glimpsed a woman standing in a shop doorway across the street. She turned away as she saw me, but I was sure it was Sheila. Obviously, after telling me that she needed to stay home, she had not dared to come into the club, but was waiting here in the hope of meeting her American soldier …
‘Something wrong, Emma?’
I glanced up at Jack, then shook my head. ‘No, nothing, nothing at all. Everything is wonderful now you are here.’
‘We’re going to have fun,’ he promised, bending his head to kiss me briefly on the lips. ‘I promise you, Emma. The next few days are going to be great.’
I smiled and hugged his arm as he opened his car door for me to get in, tucking my dress in carefully before shutting the door again. As we drove away, the lights flashed full on Sheila for a moment as she ran across the road to meet someone, and I knew it was definitely her.
I was sorry that she had thought it necessary to lie about her daughter being ill that night, but I could not blame her for wanting to meet the man she loved. It was really no different from my wanting to be with Jack – and there was no reason why Sheila should not go out with any man she wanted. She was a widow and perfectly free to love where she chose.
I was glad I had not said anything to her at the showroom. Pamela had already admitted that she might have made too much of things. Sheila ought not to get drunk at the club, of course. She knew our rules. Besides, she was only laying up trouble for herself – but that was really her own business.
It was not for me or Pamela to judge her. Pamela’s husband might be away fighting, but she heard from him regularly. And I had Jack. Who were we to dictate what Sheila could do with her own life?
Chapter 10
Jack surprised me by saying that we would take my son and Nanny on our holiday.
‘You won’t want to be separated from the boy the whole ten days,’ he said. ‘It would spoil things for you. There’s plenty of room where we’re going to accommodate all of us. We shall have James with us for part of the day, and his nanny will be there to take care of him when we want to be alone.’
‘You’re so thoughtful, Jack.’ I hugged his arm as I looked up at him. He was such an attractive man, so vital and alive.
He smiled and kissed me. ‘I want you to be happy, Emma. I know you would worry if the boy was left with your friends. It’s only natural. Besides, I want him to get to know me. We’re all going to be living together one day. It’s best he has good things to remember about me while I’m away.’
Jack was taking it for granted we would be together after the war. I didn’t even think of arguing. After all, it was what I wanted, and I was convinced now that my husband had died in that plane crash. If he was alive some word would have reached us by now. So there was no reason for me to feel guilty when Jack spoke of our life together. I accepted that our marriage would happen one day, when all the fighting and killing was over, and the idea made me happy.
We drove down to East Sussex in easy stages, stopping for a delicious picnic of cold fried chicken, fresh bread and some exotic pickles that Jack had brought with him. There was also a tin of chocolate finger biscuits for my son, who managed to get the chocolate all over him and gave every sign of being in heaven.
Nanny scolded when he spilt orange juice over his white shirt, but Jack told her we were all on holiday and she wasn’t to worry if the boy got himself dirty. His air of authority had impressed Nanny, who obeyed him without question. He also seemed to have the knack of controlling James’s exuberance, and we stopped far fewer times than was usual when travelling with my son.
The cottage Jack took us to was really much too large to deserve that name, but it had belonged to his family for years and was always known as the Cottage.
‘My great-grandfather left it to my grandmother,’ he explained when we arrived to see the rambling old house, its grey stone walls half covered by climbing roses and honeysuckle. ‘She lived here until she married and went to America with her husband, and when she died she left the property to me, because I was
her favourite. I had never seen it until I came to England just before the war, but I believe my mother and father visited a couple of times when they were young.’
Inside, it was cool and smelled of lavender and polish. The furniture was very old, quite beautiful and obviously well loved and cared for. Jack had a permanent housekeeper in residence, even though he seldom stayed there. He did allow friends to stay there from time to time, and there was a visitors’ book in the hall, which, I discovered when I peeped one day, included a few famous names, both American and English.
The cottage itself was situated just outside the picturesque village of Sedlescombe, which slopes gently down a Wealden hillside. The road past the village was a main one leading to the resort of Hastings-on-Sea, and could be busy sometimes, but we were tucked away in our own private hollow, hidden by trees and near a pretty stream.
‘We are near enough to the sea to take James on the beach sometimes,’ Jack told me. ‘But private and secluded enough for him to run around the gardens in safety.’
James had never known such freedom. Although there were periods when he was given into Nanny’s charge, he was with us for much of the day. Jack did not believe in being over strict with young children, and he enjoyed playing with the boy. He had brought a small baseball bat with us, and it was funny to watch my son struggling valiantly to hit the balls Jack threw to him.
‘He’s going to be a proper American,’ Jack said, lying on the dry grass at my feet after James had been taken off for his afternoon nap. ‘I’ll teach him everything, Emma. When he grows up, we’ll send him to Harvard and then I’ll start him off in some kind of business.’
I was sitting in a canvas chair on the lawns outside the open French windows. It was a warm sunny day, peaceful, the silence broken only by the droning of insects and the occasional call of a meadow lark.
‘You have it all worked out,’ I said, smiling at him as he broke off a long stalk of grass and tickled my bare feet. ‘What am I going to do, Jack? What have you decided for me?’
‘You will do whatever you want, my darling.’ Jack grinned at me. ‘I don’t see you as being the meek little wife sitting at home in the kitchen waiting for me to come back at the end of the day. So what do you want, Emma? What would make you happy?’