Home Front Girls

by Rosie Goodwin

  ‘In that case, let’s go outside and get some fresh air before you leave shall we?’ he suggested, and Annabelle followed him gladly. It took him a while to negotiate the stairs but he stubbornly refused any offer of help and her heart twisted as she saw the sweat break out on his forehead.

  ‘It – it’s good for me to use my leg as much as I can – the doctors told me so,’ he informed her breathlessly. ‘The old muscles are a bit wasted, I’m afraid, after being in bed for so long, but they will get better if I persevere.’

  She gnawed on her lip, wishing he would let her help him, but at last they reached the entrance hallway and emerged into the gardens, which were beautiful. Rolling lawns ran down to the clifftops and he led her towards a large oak tree with a bench placed beneath it in the shade.

  ‘It’s lovely here,’ she whispered as her eyes stared out over the shimmering water, and then her heart began to race again as he gently took her hand in his. Her whole arm seemed to be on fire and it was all she could do not to throw her arms about him. She knew without a doubt that in Joel Ford she had found the love of her life.

  ‘I heard from Lucy last week,’ he told her now. ‘She’s living somewhere in Cornwall and she sounded happy. She’s lodging with a widow, apparently, who has a little girl about the same age as Mary would have been. Needless to say, Lucy is very taken with her and she’s working at the hairdresser’s that the woman owns.’

  ‘I heard from Dotty too,’ Annabelle told him. ‘And she’s looking forward to the birth of her first baby. Robert is really excited about it, and her book is flying, by all accounts. She’s almost finished her second one now.’

  ‘So all’s well that ends well for two of the shop girls,’ he grinned. ‘But what about the third one?’

  ‘Oh I’m all right,’ Annabelle said hastily as he played with her fingers and lowered his head.

  ‘Annabelle,’ he whispered gruffly. ‘You know that I’m never going to be the man that I was before the war, don’t you? What I mean is, this leg is never going to be as it was. I’ll always be a cripple and that will seriously impede what job I’m able to do. It’s highly unlikely that I’ll ever be rich or—’

  ‘Shh.’ She placed her finger on his lips to silence him, and when he raised his head again he saw all the love she felt for him shining in her eyes and hope stirred in his heart. ‘You’ll always be more of a man than any other I’ve ever known – apart from my dad, of course,’ she told him with a twinkle in her eye.

  ‘Then in that case I’ll say this; none of us knows what’s going to happen with this blasted war or even how much longer it may go on for. But if at the end of it you think you might not mind being saddled with a man with a gammy leg . . .’

  ‘Is that a proposal?’ she grinned but he shook his head.

  ‘No, it isn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to tie you to that because as I said, who knows what might happen or if we’ll both still be alive? But if we are . . .’

  ‘That’s good enough for now,’ she sighed, but then she had no time to say any more because he was kissing her and there were more stars behind her eyes even than there had been in the sky on the night of the Blitz – and the war couldn’t last forever, could it?

  Epilogue

  The war raged on so slowly that people began to despair and wondered if it would ever end. Four long years passed. Hitler’s next horrors were the V1 and V2 rockets that reduced much of London to rubble, causing countless deaths and immeasurable heartache to thousands. But then in April 1945, as Soviet troops advanced on Berlin and the American troops invaded Okinawa and Nuremberg, Hitler realised that the tide had turned. Not wishing to suffer the same fate as the Italian dictator, Benito Mussolini, who had been killed and mutilated, his body put on public display in Milan, Hitler and his lover, Eva Braun, whom he had married less than forty hours earlier, committed suicide on 30 April in his Führerbunker. The people of England rejoiced as the news reached them, and yet more good news followed at the beginning of May when the German forces surrendered in Italy and Berlin. German forces in Denmark and the Netherlands quickly followed suit, along with the Germans’ surrender in Bavaria, the Channel Islands and Breslau.

  On 8 May, Winston Churchill made a radio broadcast during which he announced: ‘Hostilities will end officially at one minute after midnight tonight, but in the interests of saving lives the “Cease fire” began yesterday to be sounded all along the front, and our dear Channel Islands are also to be freed today!’

  Victory was official, and suddenly celebrations erupted throughout Europe as people tried to take in the wonderful news that the war was really finally over.

  ‘I can hardly believe it,’ Mrs P said as she scraped marge on yet another slice of bread to add to the pile already tottering on the table.

  ‘Well, yer can believe it, me old duck,’ Fred declared with a broad smile. Mrs P stared at the glass of home-brewed ale in his hand. He’d already drunk enough to sink a battleship and the party wasn’t due to start for another hour yet. But then she didn’t want to get on at him today of all days.

  ‘’Ere, get off that, you little sod,’ she said then, slapping her Barry on the back of the hand with the butter-knife as he pinched a slice of bread. The children had arrived home the night before, and Mrs P was still trying to get used to how big they had grown in the time they had been away. Barry had shot up without a doubt and his younger sister Beryl wasn’t far behind him. A right little madam now she was, but it was so wonderful to have them home. If only . . . she thought then as her thoughts slipped to her Freddy. It was a day for celebration, but like thousands of other families it would be bittersweet as they thought of the loved ones who would not be coming back.

  Her eyes went to his photograph in pride of place on the mantelshelf, and seeing her tear-filled eyes, Miranda slid an arm about the woman’s shoulders, feeling her pain. She had come to help with the preparations and hopefully, Annabelle would be arriving from Haslar soon to join them.

  ‘You must always remember he was a hero,’ Miranda told the older woman gently. ‘And you will always be proud of him.’

  ‘I will that,’ Mrs P agreed with a loud sniff as she pulled herself together. This was not the time for tears, today of all days. There was plenty of time for them at night when her Fred was softly snoring at the side of her. ‘But what’s happenin’ about your old man? Any idea when he might be comin’ home yet? Oh, an’ yer can use some o’ that Spam fer the sandwiches, an’ some o’ that bloater paste an’ all,’ she added.

  ‘The Red Cross reckon he could be home within weeks,’ Miranda told her as she obediently started to fill and cut the sandwiches, pressing the slices together with the flat of her hand. ‘But I’m not sure what to expect. It can’t have been a bed of roses stuck in that prison camp.’

  ‘Happen yer right but just be grateful he is comin’ home,’ Mrs P answered and Miranda nodded, knowing that she was right. Whatever state Richard was in she would welcome him with open arms. As they carried the piled-high plates out to the trestle tables that had been draped with white sheets all down the middle of the street, Mrs P chuckled.

  ‘Why, it looks a fair treat, don’t it!’ she exclaimed delightedly, and indeed it did. Bunting had been strung from lamp post to lamp post and the Union Jack flags that had been hung from the bedroom windows were fluttering in the breeze. The tables were heaving with food and the older woman commented, ‘I reckon we’ll all starve fer at least a week after today. Rationin’s still in place whether the war’s over or not, an’ I think everyone’s emptied their pantries to make today a good spread. But who cares, eh? It’ll be worth it.’

  Further along the street, someone had dragged a piano into the road and now the sound of someone singing ‘The White Cliffs of Dover’ was floating towards them.

  ‘That’ll be Ma Bennet from number sixty-three,’ Mrs P snorted. ‘She’s always fancied herself as a bit of a songbird, but she won’t never be any competition fer Vera Lynn wi’ a voice like that, wil
l she?’

  ‘Now put your claws away,’ Miranda chuckled as she edged a wobbly jelly over to make room to slide her sandwiches onto the table. The street seemed to be full of children all shouting and laughing and snatching at the treats as they raced by the tables, but today no one corrected them. It was a day to rejoice.

  Further along the road was a table full of crates of homemade wine and ale, and most of the men seemed to be congregated there, including Fred, who had managed to escape again.

  ‘He’ll be as drunk as a lord, come teatime,’ Mrs P confided with a shake of her head. ‘They’re like bees around a honeypot – look. Never was one fer holdin’ his drink were my Fred, but then who cares if I have to put him to bed, eh?’

  It was then that Joel hobbled up to them, leaning heavily on his stick, but with a broad smile on his face.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, addressing Miranda. ‘No sign of Belle yet then?’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ her mother responded with a grin as she watched her future son-in-law glancing up and down the street for a sight of her. ‘But rest assured if she’s said she’ll come, she will.’

  Miranda had seen a huge change in him since he had got a job in the local Royal Mail sorting office the year before. It was a job he could do sitting down and he seemed to have regained some of his confidence since going back to work. She suspected that he felt like a man again now that he could earn a living, although it was apparent that he would never walk again without the use of a stick, and she knew that there were times when the leg still caused him considerable pain. However, he never complained, which she felt was to his credit, and she had grown to be very fond of him.

  When she suddenly saw his face light up, she guessed immediately who would be the cause of it. Sure enough, she followed his gaze to see Annabelle picking her way through the people towards them, and before she could say a word, Joel was off, hobbling towards her. Miranda glanced at her watch. Dotty and Robert’s train should be in too within the hour and then they could all have a proper reunion. She just felt sad that Lucy wouldn’t be there too, for although she and Joel still wrote to each other regularly, she had never made any attempt to return home even for a visit. Miranda could understand it in a way. Lucy could never have had any sort of a life had she stayed in Coventry. There were too many bad memories there to haunt her, but Miranda hoped that in Cornwall she had been able to put the past behind her, to heal old hurts and get on with her life.

  She was pulled sharply back to the present when Mrs P dug her in the ribs. ‘Well, come on then, gel,’ she scolded. ‘The sooner all the snap’s on the table, the sooner we can get this party started. An’ I don’t know about you, but I’m ready fer a drop o’ that home-made wine meself. Let’s get the rest o’ them sandwiches out, eh?’

  Miranda followed her back into the little terraced house, thinking just how much her own life had changed since before the war. Back then she had had a charlady and someone else to do her washing and ironing for her, but those days were long gone and strangely she found that she didn’t miss them. The war seemed to have wiped out class distinction and Miranda thought it was no bad thing. Everyone was on a level footing now, be they a beggar or a queen, and she doubted it would ever go back to the way it had been. During the war, women had had to take on men’s roles – and a very good job they had done of it too – so would they ever go back to being chained to the kitchen sink? As Mrs P would say, ‘Not on your nelly!’

  Further up the road, Joel met Annabelle and she placed her arms about him even though they were in full view of everyone.

  ‘I was worried you wouldn’t make it,’ he told her as he returned her embrace.

  ‘Well, I only got a temporary reprieve,’ she admitted. ‘I have to be back at Haslar by lunchtime tomorrow. Even though the war is over there are still an awful lot of sick men to care for on the wards, and my job won’t be ended until they’re all healed. And of course we have to remember that the war is still going on in Japan, and I’ve no doubt there’ll be more casualties coming from there.’

  ‘So how long do you think that might be?’

  She shrugged. ‘A few more months at least,’ she told him truthfully. ‘And then when my VAD time is over and I get demobbed, I thought I might train to become a State Registered Nurse.’ She watched him closely for his response and when he looked approving, she sighed with relief.

  ‘I know that’s what you want to do, an’ I reckon you should go all out for it,’ he told her, and once again she thought what a remarkable man he was. He seemed to understand that after the war, women would never be as dependent on men as they had been before. ‘Just so long as it doesn’t stop you from being my wife as well, of course,’ he added.

  When her eyes opened wide in shock, he held her to him whilst fumbling in his jacket pocket with his free hand. And then she found herself staring down at a tiny velvet box and he rushed on, ‘I did tell you that I wouldn’t hold you to anything until the war was over. But it is over now, so Annabelle Smythe, I am asking you if you would do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?’

  Before she could even answer, he went on, ‘I’m afraid this damn leg won’t allow me to drop down on one knee and do it properly. But will you at least look at the ring and consider it?’ He then flicked the box open and as Annabelle stared down at the small chip of diamond solitaire he told her hastily, ‘I know it probably isn’t exactly the rock you always dreamed of, but—’

  ‘Stop right there,’ she told him. ‘It’s absolutely perfect and I would be honoured to be your wife, Joel Ford. In fact, I can hardly wait. Now can I please have my ring?’

  He slid it onto her finger as a great cheer went up from the people around them and then he was kissing her and suddenly Annabelle’s life was perfect and she couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy in her whole life.

  ‘So let’s have a look at this sparkler then,’ someone said behind her, and as Annabelle tore herself away from Joel to glance around she found Dotty standing there with a cheeky smile on her face. But this was not the shy girl from the orphanage Annabelle remembered from their days at Owen Owen; instead, she was a smart, sophisticated woman. Dotty was holding her new baby girl in her arms, and a little boy in a sailor suit who was the absolute double of his father was clutching at Robert’s hand.

  ‘I wondered when you two would see sense,’ Dotty chuckled as she admired Annabelle’s ring. ‘So when is the happy day to be?’

  ‘Well, we haven’t had time to think about it yet, but it can’t be soon enough for me,’ Joel replied as he looked at his new fiancée with pride.

  Dotty glanced affectionately at her husband. ‘Then I can only hope you’ll both be as happy as we are,’ she said quietly, and as Annabelle looked at her she couldn’t help but be impressed. Dotty’s hair, which had grown, was twisted into a gleaming chignon and she was dressed in an elegant navy-blue suit that showed off her slim figure to perfection. Her accessories were white and Annabelle thought she looked as if she had stepped straight from the pages of Vogue. Somewhere along the line, the two of them seemed to have changed places. But now that her ring had been admired it was time to view the new arrival, and Annabelle gently drew the shawl from the baby’s face.

  ‘Why Dotty, she’s just beautiful!’ she gasped. ‘What have you called her?’

  ‘Alice Louise,’ Dotty answered proudly, ‘for my mother. And Jeremy was named after my father. He’s quite besotted with his new baby sister, thankfully.’

  Mrs P had joined them by then, leaving Fred to keep a tipsy eye on Barry and Beryl, and she too dutifully cooed over the new arrival before commenting, ‘Crikey, lass. You look a million dollars! No one would believe you’d recently had a baby. How did you get your figure back so fast?’

  ‘I doubt it would have been difficult, seeing as she was never further through than a coat-hanger,’ Annabelle teased. The party was getting louder by now and someone was playing ‘Roll Out the Barrel’ on the piano.

  Miranda joine
d them too then and she hugged her daughter with delight as Annabelle proudly showed off her ring. She hoped that the couple would wait to get married until Annabelle’s father came home. Rations or no rations, Annabelle was her only daughter and she wanted the wedding to be a lavish affair. The Red Cross had informed her that Richard should be home within the next few months and after waiting so long, she was sure that they wouldn’t mind waiting just a little longer.

  ‘Well, we said we’d meet up after the war and here we are at last,’ Dotty said when everyone else started to drift away to join in the party. ‘There were times when I thought it was never going to happen, didn’t you?’

  ‘Hmm, but it’s a shame there’s one of us missing,’ Annabelle said sadly as she thought of Lucy.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ Mrs P commented as she peered up the street. ‘’Cos if I ain’t very much mistaken, the Missin’ Link is on her way.’

  And sure enough, as they followed her eyes there was Lucy striding towards them with another woman at her side and a young girl.

  Without thinking, Dotty thrust Alice into Mrs P’s open arms and suddenly she and Annabelle were racing towards her.

  ‘Oh Lucy! You’ll never know how wonderful it is to see you!’ Dotty cried. ‘I can’t even begin to tell you how worried we’ve been about you – but you look marvellous.’

  ‘I’m so sorry for clearing off like that,’ Lucy apologised when they had all had a hug. ‘But I think I had to get away to find out who I really was, and thanks to Julie here, I believe I have now. I just love living in Mevagissy. Then when Joel wrote to tell me about the party, I felt it was time to come back for a visit.’ She smiled lovingly towards the woman at her side, then leaned down to fuss over Harry, who was like Mrs P’s shadow. His tail wagged furiously – he clearly hadn’t forgotten her.

  Lucy’s companion looked to be slightly older than Lucy and had a kind face, and they took to her instantly. She introduced her daughter as Tamsyn.