by Pam Weaver
‘How dare you,’ she spat. ‘How dare you fill this poor girl’s mind with your fanciful ideas and ridiculous notions.’ She came into the room dragging a sobbing Ruth behind her and holding the allowance application in the air.
‘I only told her there was an alternative …’
‘Oh, I know what you told her,’ Matron said coldly. ‘You gave her false hope.’
‘But it’s not false hope,’ Bonnie protested.
‘Oh no?’ Matron bellowed before Bonnie could say any more. ‘Then tell me, Miss, when she’s got this allowance, where is she going to live? Eh? She can’t go back to her mother. Her mother is ashamed that her daughter is having an illegitimate child.’
Bonnie felt her face flame. She hadn’t thought of that. ‘I’m sure the council would house her,’ she said lamely.
‘Where?’ Matron demanded. ‘Three-quarters of a million homes have been destroyed and the country is up to its eyes in debt. There are whole families living in two rooms.’ She began ripping the form into pieces. ‘Where do you think the government’s priorities lie? With families needing homes or with one silly girl who went and got herself pregnant with the first pair of trousers she set eyes on?’
Ruth let out a howl and ran from the room. Bonnie blinked, willing herself not to cry too.
‘I told you to keep quiet about this, didn’t I?’ Matron went on. She pointed to the empty doorway. ‘I hold you personally responsible for the state that girl is in so from now on, my girl, you are on your own. You will do all your own washing and you can eat your meals when everyone else has finished.’ She turned to leave, adding, ‘And when your baby comes, don’t expect any help from us.’
A chill of fear slid down Bonnie’s spine. ‘Oh Mum,’ she whispered into the cold empty room. ‘I wish you were here …’
Thirteen
‘Excuse me, young woman …’
Rita was surprised by the sharpness of the customer’s tongue until she turned around. It was Mrs Kerr, George’s landlady.
‘I wish to buy a hat and I don’t want to be kept waiting all day.’
‘I’m so sorry, Madam,’ said Rita glancing around the department. Miss Bridewell was serving one of Hubbard’s more wealthy customers and the two assistants were busy in the cubicles.
‘Well?’ Mrs Kerr demanded, ‘are you going to serve me or not?’
Rita wasn’t supposed to serve because she wasn’t considered ‘trained enough’. Mrs Kerr glared at her impatiently.
‘Would you like to sit here?’ said Rita, indicating a dressing table complete with three mirrors. Miss Bridewell was still deep in conversation. ‘May I ask what is the occasion?’
‘We’re having a very important person come to our church,’ said Mrs Kerr, her chest swelling with pride. ‘I am to greet him at the door.’
Rita did some quick thinking. She recalled the plainness of Mrs Kerr’s home and she noted the rather dour outfit she was wearing today. Mrs Kerr wasn’t the sort of woman who would come to a shop like Hubbard’s. She was most likely in her best things. ‘What colour were you thinking of ?’ Rita asked.
‘Blue,’ said Mrs Kerr, ‘or maybe brown.’ She gave Rita a long hard stare in the mirror. ‘Don’t I know you?’
Rita smiled. ‘I came to your house looking for my sister’s gentleman friend,’ she said.
‘Oh yes,’ said Mrs Kerr. ‘I remember.’
Rita put a plain blue hat on the table. ‘He never came back, you know,’ Mrs Kerr said as she tried it on. ‘I’ve still got that suitcase of his.’
‘Thank you, Miss Rogers,’ Miss Bridewell sniffed. ‘I’ll deal with Madam. I’m sure there’s some dresses over there on the rail you can put back. Now, Madam, what can I do for you?’
Mrs Kerr repeated her story and Rita went back to the rail. She could see that the hats Miss Bridewell was showing Mrs Kerr were quite unsuitable: large brimmed hats, Ascot hats, hats with rosettes and ribbons and even a hat with an ostrich plume. Mrs Kerr was not enjoying the experience.
‘Send the other girl back to me,’ she barked. ‘She knew what I was looking for.’
Miss Bridewell had no alternative but to ask Rita to come over and, ten minutes later, Rita had made her first ever sale, a donkey brown hat with a tan-coloured ribbon on the brim.
‘You’d better come round and collect that case,’ said Mrs Kerr as they waited for her change and the receipt to come along the wire from the cashier. ‘I can’t keep it forever. I need the space.’
For the next few weeks Bonnie found herself in Coventry, but surprisingly she didn’t mind too much. She did her work and then her own laundry without complaint. Now that the weather was getting more spring-like, she enjoyed going out and looking around the shops although she didn’t have the money to buy anything. Queuing was no longer a problem: because of her condition, she had been given a ‘Queue Priority’ card. That meant she didn’t have to stand for hours and hours and she could go to the front of the queue if she wanted something. She got a few dirty looks but it didn’t worry her too much.
When she was in her room, Bonnie read and re-read Miss Reeves’ letter and although it always brought her to the brink of tears, it was a comfort to have news of her family.
Dear Bonnie,
I had been hoping that perhaps you would have returned home by now. I trust that you are well. Your sister is doing well at Hubbard’s and I must say I was impressed when I saw the courtesy and care with which she treats her customers. She looks very grown up now. Quite a young lady. The new store is not a patch on the old one which burned down last year, and my dear, it’s so expensive!
Your mother has been working very hard as usual. My sister saw her coming out of the police station just days before Christmas with a very nasty bruise on her face and we were shocked to hear that she had been knocked down and robbed of the monies from her savings club.
My sister and I joined in the festivities at your home on Christmas Day as usual and although she still had a bruise, your mother was very well. We all pooled our resources in these desperate times and a good time was had by all. We discovered then that no one lost out because of the theft because your mother had sold the piano to reimburse the money. We had our usual sing-along accompanied by Mr Hart’s mouth organ and Mr Semadenny (I don’t know how to spell his name) sang beautifully.
As you suggested, I spoke to your mother about you but she seems resigned to the fact that you may not be home for some time. ‘We must learn to live without her, if that’s what shewants,’ those were her very words, but I feel bound to remark that she did look very sad when she told me. My dear, can you not reconsider? Nothing is so terrible that it should separate a family and the three of you always seemed so close. Perhaps you might let me mediate between you, if it would help.
I shall continue to pray for you, my dear.
Yours sincerely,
Evelyn Reeves.
Poor Mother knocked down and robbed? Who could have done such a dreadful thing? And yet it wasn’t really that surprising, was it? Everywhere you looked people were being robbed. The papers said shoplifting had reached epidemic proportions. It was the times they were living in. Desperate people did desperate things and her mother must have been an easy target. Now Bonnie worried about her all the time.
Ruth had had her baby, a boy, and at the moment she wasspending her time looking after him until the adoption was finalised. That gave her six weeks with her son. She breastfed him and spent every waking moment with him. Whenever Bonnie saw her, she seemed very calm.
As Bonnie came down to the laundry room to do her washing one afternoon, she heard heavy banging on the cupboard door. A face was pressed against the small glass panel in the door. It was Gwen.
‘Open the door, Bonnie. Let me out.’
Bonnie frowned. ‘What are you doing in there?’
‘Open the door, please.’ She sounded desperate.
Bonnie looked down. There was no key in the keyhole.
‘She put it on
the shelf next to the washing powder,’ said Gwen.
Bonnie hesitated. ‘Who?’
Since Matron’s decree, Bonnie had no idea what was going on. Gwen had had a son five and a half weeks ago and had moved to the ground floor with all the other mothers who had recently given birth. Surprisingly, although she had been so blasé about giving him up, Bonnie had seen her in the grounds and she appeared to be a devoted mother.
‘Hurry, Bonnie.’
Bonnie found the key and turned the lock. Gwen shot out of the door like a bullet from a gun and raced up the stairs. Bonnie followed as quickly as her bump would allow and as she emerged into the hallway she heard a dreadful commotion. Above the sound of a car being driven away at speed Gwen was howling her head off as she knelt in front of Matron and snatched at the hem of her uniform.
‘I want him back,’ she sobbed. ‘Make them give him back.’
‘You signed the papers,’ said Matron, pulling her dress away. ‘There’s nothing you can do about it now. He’ll have a good home and you can get on with the rest of your life. You’ll soon forget.’ She looked up and saw Bonnie. ‘Oh, I might have guessed you’d have something to do with this. When will you learn to stop interfering, Miss?’
When she had gone, Bonnie did her best to comfort Gwen but it was hopeless.
‘He’ll think I didn’t want him,’ she sobbed. ‘But I did, I did.’
‘I know,’ said Bonnie, her own heart breaking for her friend.
‘And I shall never see him again,’ Gwen wailed. ‘Not this side of the grave, I won’t. Oh my poor little boy. I want my little Brian.’
Grace was meeting Archie again. She looked forward to these little Sunday walks together. Sometimes they walked along the sea front noting the changes as the last of the concrete sea defences were removed and a few more planks of wood were added to the store on the pier. Work to repair it was painfully slow because of the shortages; building houses was a priority and everything else had to take second place. During their first excursion, Archie had mentioned that he was making a delivery to Richmond. Grace felt her heartbeat quicken. ‘Is that near London?’
‘Yes,’ said Archie. ‘Want to come?’
‘It’s about my daughter …’ she continued.
‘I thought it might be,’ he smiled. ‘You can get the train into central London from there although I doubt you’ll bump intoher. London is one hell of a place, you know?’
She was so grateful and he’d even agreed to change the day to Friday so she didn’t have to ask for time off work.
Today they caught a bus up to High Salvington. The wind was fresh. Grace was glad she had worn her thick knitted cardigan under her coat. Once they’d walked away from the bus stop, it was grand being up there looking across the big meadow towards Highdown Hill in the distance where, during the war years, they had had a radar station. All that was gone now and the countryside was returning to the way it had always been. Trees were coming into bud and everything had a fresh newness about it. As usual, they didn’t talk much. They both enjoyed a companionable silence.
Bonnie was never far from her thoughts. What was she doing? Had she met a boy? Was she married? Grace tried to imagine having a married daughter and perhaps one day, a grandchild.
She was worried about Kaye Wilcox as well. The girl had lost a lot of weight and Grace and Snowy wondered if she was ill. She didn’t talk much these days, even though they did their best to befriend her. She just got on with her work and walked home alone.
Grace and Archie had been walking together for about five weeks. It started with the New Year’s walk with his friends in the Ramblers Association. Although most of the people were retired or well to do, she and Archie hadn’t felt out of place at first. Everyone went out of their way to make them feel welcome but after a while, the class divisions began to show. The catalyst came when Mrs Pumfrey asked Grace if she would consider waiting on tables for her at one of her dinner parties. Grace had been happy to do so – after all, the money would come in handy to help get rid of her debt – but once it became known that Grace was a working woman, the rest of the group stuck to their own kind. Far from being offended, Grace didn’t really care because by that time Archie had asked her to walk with him.
With no one else able to eavesdrop on their conversations, she and Archie opened up to each other. He told Grace of the shock he had had when he’d come home to find his wife expecting another man’s baby.
‘I suppose I shouldn’t blame her,’ he said sadly. ‘She was lonely and I was away, but I can’t say it didn’t hurt. She wrote me such loving letters, I hadn’t a clue what was going on.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Grace said quietly.
‘I was willing to try and make a go of it,’ he went on, ‘but she said she wanted a better life.’
Grace told him about Michael. It felt funny talking about him with another man but Archie was a good listener. ‘How is Rita coping without her sister?’
‘She pretends to have taken it all in her stride,’ Grace said uncertainly, ‘and she doesn’t talk about her sister much, but she doesn’t fool me. They were very close but she’s made new friends. She goes around to the café a lot.’
‘To Liliana and Salvatore’s place?’
‘Yes,’ said Grace. ‘I try not to mind but it is a bit upsetting when she prefers to be with Liliana more than me.’
Archie laughed. ‘I think she’s more interested in that handsome nephew of hers. All the girls are crazy for him.’
Grace laughed. ‘I think Rita is safe from his advances.’
‘She does know that he’s not interested in women?’ said Archie.
‘Oh yes,’ said Grace, but now that he’d suggested it, she wasn’t so sure. She sighed wistfully. ‘I wish Bonnie would get in touch. How could she go off like that without even a backward glance?’
‘Sometimes people feel awkward about getting in touch again,’ said Archie, ‘especially when they’ve left it so long, but I’m sure if you are grieving for her, she’ll be grieving for you. Like you say, you’re a close knit family.’
Grace wasn’t sure how he felt about her, but she liked Archie a lot. He filled her thoughts day and night. She fell asleep thinking about his dark eyes and when she dreamed at night, it was of his kisses. When she woke up, he was her first thought in the morning. She was frustrated that in all this time, he hadn’t so much as held her hand. She supposed it was because he had been so badly betrayed. It was hard to trust another person when the one you’d loved had deceived you for so long.
As they walked along Honeysuckle Lane towards Long Furlough, the quietness of the countryside enveloped them. The only sound apart from the occasional bird song was a dog barking in the distance.
‘You and I have the same landlord, don’t we?’ he said, breaking into her thoughts.
Grace nodded. ‘Norris Finley. He owns most of the properties around our way.’
Archie looked thoughtful. ‘I can’t get him to give me a rent book.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Grace. ‘That’s an old trick of his. He makes a verbal agreement but if he doesn’t like you or he wants the property for someone else, he ups the rent until you’re forced to move.’
‘Is that it,’ said Archie. ‘I had wondered if the rent collector was adding a bit of commission for himself. My rent has gone up another ten bob since I moved in.’
‘It’s a real worry for a lot of my neighbours,’ said Grace, ‘but what can you do? Everybody is scared of eviction.’
‘The only way to stop something like that is to band together,’ said Archie.
‘Easier said than done,’ Grace said gloomily.
‘Grace,’ said Archie changing the subject as quickly as he had brought it up. ‘I really enjoy these walks of ours …’
He hesitated. She said nothing but kept walking, willing her face not to flame.
‘I don’t want to spoil what we already have,’ he went on, ‘and I don’t want to rush you but I should like
something more.’
Grace could feel her heart beginning to thud. She felt as giddy as a schoolgirl.
‘You’re becoming very special to me,’ he said, tugging at her arm and making her stop. ‘Grace, could we … I mean is it possible … perhaps …’ She looked up and saw an anguished look flit across his face. ‘Oh hell, I’m making a right pig’s ear of this, aren’t I? What I mean is …’
‘Yes,’ she said.
He stared at her for a second. ‘What?’
‘Yes, I’d like to do other things with you,’ she smiled. ‘I enjoy dancing, and playing whist and the pictures and just being with you.’ She laughed softly and all at once she was in his arms and he was holding her so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds and then slowly, inevitably, he lowered his mouth towards hers andkissed her gently.
They parted and he looked at her again. She could feel the breeze blowing her hair and somewhere above her head a blackbird was singing.
He smiled at her lovingly. ‘Oh Gracie,’ he murmured and he kissed her again, this time more earnestly.
Rita stared at George’s coat and case where it lay on the bed in her room. It felt funny having it there, almost as if she’d stolen it. She had just come back from Mrs Kerr’s place and had brought it straight back. She was alone in the house. Mum was out walking with the Ramblers again.
She felt in the pockets of the raincoat first but there were only a couple of sweet wrappers (he liked Murray Mints), some keys and a dirty handkerchief. She tried the case but it was locked. When she tried one of the keys, it flew open. There were some brochures all about South Africa on the top. So they really were going to South Africa. She sat down beside the case. Hang on a minute, if he’d left the case behind, he couldn’t have gone to South Africa, could he? Did that mean that Bonnie had gone all that way on her own? Rita searched through the rest of his things. She didn’t take everything out, it didn’t feel right, but by sliding her hands inside she could see he had a case full of shirts, socks, underpants, a pair of trousers and some papers. Apart from his passport (he definitely couldn’t have gone to South Africa without that) and his birth certificate, the only other thing was an envelope. It was unsealed. Inside she found a letter. She looked at it for a long time before deciding to open it out and read it. A photograph fell out of the folds and Rita’s heart almost stopped. She was looking at a man dressed in an SS uniform and if that wasn’t shocking enough, the letter itself was in German.