by June Francis
He grinned again. ‘Of course, I did. He was just sorry that he didn’t have anything for Irene, but his mam has made her a tartan frock with a white collar and cuffs.’
‘It sounds lovely!’ said Grace. ‘Did you bring it with you? It will be lovely for her to have something new to wear tomorrow. It’s so hard with rationing these days.’
‘I brought everything with me in a knapsack, as I rode the bike,’ said Simon, smiling afresh.
‘Good for you,’ said Grace, with a warm feeling inside her. She prayed that there would not be a raid that night or for weeks to come, and that the Luftwaffe would take time off for Christmas and New Year.
‘Where is your dad?’
‘He’s gone to see Jimmy and Milly.’
Grace wondered whether to follow him there after she’d unpacked the shopping and had a look at the goodies the doc and Alice had sent. Mostly she could not wait to see the frock that Alice had made for Irene. However, when she saw the chicken Grace decided it was best if she stayed home, as the chicken needed its feathers plucking and insides removing. Once she’d sorted that messy business, she set herself to making mince pies.
Ben arrived home later than she had expected, but the state of his clothes convinced her that after having visited their friends, he must have returned to help clear the streets again.
‘What’s cooking?’ he asked.
‘You hungry?’ She removed her apron and went over and kissed him.
‘Don’t ask daft questions. Of course, I’m hungry. I’ll go and get a wash and change,’ he said.
By the time he reappeared, washed, shaved and wearing clean brown corduroy trousers, a cream-and-black check shirt and a Fair Isle pullover, there were bowls of soup on the table and a plate of sliced crusty bread.
‘This smells good,’ he said, leaning over to say hello to Irene.
‘Giblet soup,’ she said.
‘So, you got the chicken.’
‘Of course, amongst other things,’ she replied. ‘We can have a drink later with a mince pie.’ She watched as he spooned up some of the soup along with a chunk of liver. She dipped a slice of bread into her soup. ‘So, how did you get on with Jimmy?’
‘I told him he was an idiot,’ he replied in a rough voice. ‘He should have stayed in hospital. He’s not talking right. He’s not making sense and he won’t send for his GP.’
‘Milly must be out of her mind.’
‘She’s furious with him, not that she’s showing him how she feels.’
‘So, what’s she going to do?’
‘She’s been in touch with his mother, and she’s coming over.’
‘She won’t persuade him to go back to hospital. She hates hospitals. Perhaps he’d listen to the doc,’ suggested Grace.
‘I don’t think it’s medical etiquette to get a doctor to do that,’ said Ben, screwing up his face. ‘I don’t know what’s best to do. Perhaps you should mention it to the doc.’
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Simon said as he came into the room, ‘What’s that about the doc?’
‘Nothing for you to worry about, son,’ said Ben.
‘I’m not worried.’ Simon sat at table and reached for a slice of bread. ‘Can I have some soup, please?’
‘Help yourself,’ said Grace.
‘I’d rather you did it,’ said Simon. ‘I don’t want to be accused of pinching all the meat.’
‘There isn’t that much, and we’ve already had our share,’ she said, filling a bowl for him. ‘We were talking about Jimmy. He’s not himself.’ She told him more about the situation.
He looked thoughtful and said, ‘I think Doc could help. You say he hasn’t had a knock on the head and it’s his legs that are injured?’
Both nodded.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Doc and I have had some real interesting talks, so I have an idea what might be going on with Jimmy.’ He dipped a chunk of bread in the soup.
‘What?’ asked Grace.
‘I’m not saying. I could be wrong, but I’ll have a word with Doc tomorrow.’
No more was said, and as the siren had not sounded, they all trooped upstairs to sleep in their own beds. Grace cuddled up to Ben. ‘This is lovely,’ she said. ‘I hope Jimmy and Milly are all right.’
‘Hmmm!’ murmured Ben. ‘I think tiredness is the biggest battle that those who have been under attack have been fighting. I know I’ve had a struggle keeping my eyes open during the day, but the clearing up has to go on – we’ve got to help each other.’ His voice had dropped, and Grace guessed he was falling asleep.
She drew his head down on her breast and whispered, ‘You poor love. Rest now and maybe tomorrow we can go to the Christmas service and sing carols.’
He lifted his head and kissed her. ‘That would be nice. I’m sorry, but I haven’t much of a Christmas present for you.’
‘You’re here, alive and well, and that’s good enough for me,’ she said closing her eyes.
* * *
The following morning Grace used the last of the butter ration that she had saved especially for this morning’s toast. The tea ration had been increased for Christmas, so they were able to have two decent cups of tea each. Then she produced her knitted presents for Ben and Simon, and after exclamations of delight, Ben handed her a pair of pearl-drop earrings in a small grubby box. She stared at him in amazement.
‘I thought you hadn’t been able to buy me anything.’
‘I didn’t buy them in a shop,’ he confessed. ‘I found them in a gutter one night and I showed them to the other people around the bombsite. One of the men recognised them, and said he’d bought them for his mam, but she was killed in a raid… so I bought them from him—’
‘I’m sorry about his mam, but I appreciate the gift,’ Grace said, fingering the pearls.
‘Do you want me to put them in for you?’ asked Ben.
She handed one to him, glad she’d had her ears pierced in her teens.
Once fastened, Ben led her over to the mirror to have a look at herself. She moved her head, so the earrings swung gently. ‘I really like them. Thank you.’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ he said. ‘You’ve shell-like ears, so pearls are fitting.’
‘What a nice thing to say,’ she smiled up at him.
He smiled back and there was an expression in his eyes that made her feel as if her heart flipped over. Grace thought back to when they first married and how she worried that they might not love each other.
It was Simon who broke the spell, saying, ‘I bought your present from Alice,’ he said. ‘She’d had them in a drawer for ages, making her clothes smell nice.’ He handed her a paper bag.
She thought from the smell, the bag would contain lavender bags, but to her delight it held two tablets of Yardley’s lavender soap. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful,’ she said, thinking about how hard it was to get hold of soap these days.
‘Your dad managed to get tickets for the Everton match today,’ she said.
‘Tommy Lawton is a guest player,’ confirmed Ben.
‘I couldn’t ask for a better Christmas present,’ said Simon, giving his dad a hug.
‘I’m treating us to go and see Thief of Bagdad this evening as well,’ said Grace.
‘That’s good too,’ said Simon.
Grace said, ‘So, we’re all happy.’
‘What about Irene?’ asked Simon. ‘Has she emptied her stocking yet?’
Grace put her hand to her mouth. ‘She’s been so quiet that I haven’t checked her.’
‘I’ll go and fetch her,’ said Ben.
‘Who’s going to look after her while we go the flicks tonight?’ Simon asked. ‘We can’t expect Aunt Milly to do it with Jimmy not well.’
‘We’ll take her with us,’ said Grace. ‘I’ve seen mothers with young children in the flicks before, and it is Christmastide, the season of goodwill.’
So, it was settled, and the four of them sat down while Simon helped Irene empty her stocking. He appe
ared to gain more pleasure from it than she did, although she screamed with delight when the small teddy was produced. Grace then bathed her daughter in the kitchen sink and washed her hair before dressing her in dainty underwear trimmed with lace and putting on the tartan frock Alice had given her. Ben produced a forest-green ribbon and Grace tied it around Irene’s hair and fastened it in a big bow. Then she took a small box from the sideboard cupboard and produced a pair of black leather strapped shoes and white socks.
‘Gosh, she looks a picture,’ said Ben.
‘We should take her to Newsham Drive for Alice to see her in the dress,’ said Simon.
‘You’re right,’ said Ben.
‘We’ll go about two,’ Grace said. ‘But we won’t be able to stay long with going to the flicks.’
‘Did you have to book seats?’ Simon asked.
She nodded. ‘They were expecting a crowd wanting to see it on such a special day, so I had to buy the tickets in advance.’
‘Surely some parents would be taking their kids to see a pantomime,’ said Simon.
Grace agreed, ‘Even so, they’ll be plenty of older children, like yourself, preferring to see a film.’
They had their lunch at twelve and were on their way to visit Alice and Doc at a quarter to two. They were welcomed with open arms. Simon updated Doc on what he thought about Jimmy, while Ben and Grace and Alice chatted. Alice was enchanted by Irene’s appearance.
‘I love the bones of my son, but I would have liked to have a daughter as well to dress up,’ she said.
‘Maybe he’ll marry and provide you with a granddaughter,’ said Grace.
Doc, who had stopped conferring with Simon, overheard their conversation and said, ‘I’m making no plans until the war’s over.’
‘Sensible,’ said Ben.
Doc shrugged. ‘We need to get the job done, defeat Hitler, Mussolini and the Japanese – courtship and marriage would be too big a distraction.’ He paused. ‘I must admit I can’t get your friend Jimmy out of my head. I would need to have a consultation with him to be sure, but you must have heard of shell-shock from the Great War.’
Ben and Grace nodded.
‘Most people are inclined to think it’s something that only happens to men on the battlefield, especially in the trenches, but I consider that people of a certain disposition can suffer when the sound of the bombardment goes on and on and shatters their nerves. More often than not, they suppress how they feel when they’re involved in rescue work or firefighting and try to put the fear they feel for their families and for their own safety to the back of their minds.’
Ben said, ‘You think that’s what’s wrong with Jimmy?’
‘I believe it’s possible that’s he’s reached a point where his nerves just can’t cope with the intensity of the work he’s doing. He and his family need to get away completely for a while, or he could end up having a breakdown. I’ve been doing a lot of research into this area.’
‘Well, would going to Milly’s mother in Dublin be a good idea? Milly was hoping to take Jimmy’s mother with them, too.’ said Grace.
‘I suspect not, and for two reasons. Escaping to a country that is neutral might make him feel even more of a coward than he believes himself to be now. The other reason is that his fear might cripple him on the journey because he could well convince himself that a torpedo could blow up the ferry.’
‘So, what do you suggest?’ asked Simon.
‘He needs to feel that he is safe, and that his family is too. At the same time, his morale needs building up,’ said Doc. ‘Is there anyone, preferably based somewhere rural, that he could go and stay with for a while?’
Ben and Grace exchanged glances. ‘I think Jimmy and Milly could go and stay and help Kyle and Jane with the orphans for a while,’ Ben said slowly.
‘Sounds like a good plan to me,’ Grace said.
The doc agreed, ‘From what I’ve heard from Simon and my ma about them, that sounds ideal. You’ll have to sound them out. I suggest Ben does it from here on the telephone and then I can speak to Kyle as well to let him know more about the condition.’
‘But what about Jimmy’s mam?’ asked Grace.
‘She does have a sister,’ said Ben. ‘Maybe she’d prefer to stay with her – Jimmy’s aunt, in Southend-on-Sea.’
Once that was decided, Alice suggested they have tea and cake right away as Simon had told her that they were going to the flicks. As they ate and drank, Doc talked about Scotland and how he would like to settle there once the war was over. Grace told him that Milly had visited Edinburgh and so had her friends Anne and Andrew who lived next door to Jimmy’s aunt. Simon went and fed the chickens, while Grace excused herself and went next door with Irene to wish a Merry Christmas to her uncle, Beryl and children.
Grace was surprised to find Marion there with a new boyfriend, Roderick Sanderson. They had popped in briefly to see Douglas, and Grace learnt that Roddy, as he liked to be called, had been in the same Scottish training camp as Dougie, although he was now based down in Yorkshire. He looked at her keenly when they were introduced, but did not get into conversation with her, other than chucking Irene under the chin and remarking what a beauty she was. Marion said very little, beyond admiring Irene’s frock, and Grace was glad when it was time for the couple to take their leave.
After Marion and her beau had left, Grace listened as her uncle told her they were surprised to see Marion as much as Grace had been. Grace got the impression that Marion didn’t call round that often, and she felt sorry for her uncle given the loss he had suffered earlier that year. Apparently, Marion had met Roddy when their family home had been destroyed and her mother had died, having promised her mother to keep an eye on her brother.
‘He’s quite good-looking,’ Grace said. ‘But then I’d expect Marion to only go for someone with looks. I take it that he and Dougie are friends, and that’s how Marion met him?’
Beryl glanced at her father, who frowned and said, ‘Apparently, Roddy’s father is in business, and not short of a bob or two. He, Dougie and another two soldiers play cards regularly together.’
‘Presumably for money,’ said Grace drily, thinking back to how Dougie couldn’t resist what he called a ‘sure bet’. She’d lost much of her wage packet from the dentist’s doling him out of gambling scrapes in the past.
‘What do you think?’ said Beryl. ‘Remember how he used to cheat when we played Snap when we were kids? He hates losing.’
‘Dougie’s not sensible. He can’t afford to lose, – Roddy can. I wonder if the other soldiers in their playing circle can,’ mused her father.
‘I reckon Marion brought Roddy to this big house to make him think we have money,’ said Beryl looking around her. ‘It is a lovely house, and maybe Marion thinks that Roddy will be prepared to play for higher stakes if he thinks we have goods to back it up. No doubt Dougie will find a way of cheating him out of his money, given what he’s like…’
‘It’s a big risk,’ said her father, breathing heavily. ‘But then he’s always been one to take risks, just like our Marion, although she’s nicer since joining the WAAFs. Your mother admired them and was always ready to help them out. I was the saver, the careful one, and no doubt they thought I’d go first, and she would get her hands on my savings and they’d manage to convince her to give them a share.’
‘Don’t get yourself worked up, Dad,’ said Beryl, placing an arm around him. ‘They won’t get their way.’
‘But you do need to make a will, Uncle Douglas,’ cautioned Grace. Her eyes had been opened as to how Marion and Dougie operated together, as she remembered back to how they tried to destroy her reputation following her marriage to Ben. She just didn’t trust them. ‘Otherwise, those two being the oldest, they’ll take control when you do go, and probably try and fiddle Beryl and your grandchildren out of what’s theirs.’
Douglas smiled as he gazed at her. ‘I’ve already seen to that, lass, don’t worry – soon after your aunt died. I saw a solicito
r and had Ben and you named as my executors.’
Chapter 31
Liverpool: February 1941
Grace rolled over in bed and gazed at the bedside clock. It was seven o’clock. Her stomach heaved, but she managed to control the need to vomit, and slid out of bed, hoping not to disturb Ben. She staggered over to the bedroom door and opened it and went into Irene’s bedroom, where she picked up the basin on the floor and was a little sick. She wiped her mouth with a cloth and looked over to where Irene was still sleeping in her cot bed, with one leg hanging over the side down where the bars were lowered. She was too big for it now really, and they needed to find a suitable child’s bed for her. Ben had just decided to make her one when his call-up papers had arrived. That had been three weeks ago at the beginning of February – there had not been a raid since the first weeks of January and even those had been nothing compared to the ones in December. The people of Merseyside had used the lull in the attacks to get the docks functioning again, and had resumed the relentless task of clearing away the bomb damage and finding lodgings for the newly homeless. The struggle to win the war continued.
Milly, Jimmy and the twins were now staying up past Burscough in Lancashire, helping out with the orphans. Jimmy’s mother had not accompanied them in the end, or even gone to stay at her sister’s by the sea, as she had been injured in a late December raid, and along with several neighbours, had been transferred to a convalescent home in North Wales.
Doc had returned to his ship in the new year and Simon remained at Alice’s, helping with the gardening and caring for the chickens and collecting eggs alongside his volunteering. He was able to keep them up to date with what was happening with Grace’s family next door, especially regarding any visits from Marion or Dougie. Both households, trying to do their bit for the war effort, had taken in some homeless people. Alice’s new lodgers were a mother and daughter who had been bombed in early January. Simon and Alice didn’t see them much – the mother, Joan Taylor worked shifts at a local ammunition factory and the daughter, Barbara, who was of a similar age to Simon, was training to be a nurse. Grace’s uncle and cousin had taken in an elderly couple who had lost their home down by the docks, where they had lived all their married life.