by Annie Groves
‘It’s been the early hours of every other night damn near all month now that we’ve had this going on,’ one of the women complained. ‘I’m sick of having to get up out of me bed and come down here.’
‘Well, you’d be a hell of a lot sicker if one of them bombs landed on the house whilst you was in the ruddy bed,’ her husband pointed out.
A couple of women had young children with them and were hugging them protectively, making Jean think of Vi and Jack – and Francine, of course. There was no doubt in Jean’s mind that Francine had taken the BBC work so that she could be close to Jack.
Of course, Vi was bound to be feeling smug about sending Jack away now that Wallasey had been bombed a couple of times – not that Jean had seen anything of her twin since the day she and Edwin had come round to collect Jack.
Vi had told her then that Charlie, like Luke, had been posted to Home Duties in case of an invasion, and of course she had been full of Charlie’s bravery at Dunkirk, saying how she thought he deserved to get a medal.
Up at the hospital Grace would be on duty, and Jean said a special prayer for her eldest daughter. It had been terrible what had happened to that young lad she had been friendly with, but Jean had noticed a certain sparkle in Grace’s eyes on her last visit home, and there’d been a lot of references to ‘Seb’ to accompany that sparkle.
The all clear sounded, breaking into Jean’s thoughts and bringing with it a wave of relief that had everyone in the shelter gathering up their possessions and getting ready to go home.
Outside the sky was already lightening, revealing the familiar and blessedly undamaged outline of the street and their homes.
The air, though, tasted of smoke and dust, and there were fires burning down by the docks.
* * *
‘They got the Customs House and a couple of warehouses, and by all accounts there was a fair few bombs dropped on Wallasey again,’ Sam told Jean as he demolished the breakfast she had made him when he had arrived home just after six in the morning.
‘I can’t stay. We’ve got some salvage work to do on some warehouses that got hit,’ had been his first words to her after he had given her a reassuring hug and a kiss on the cheek, ‘but I wanted to make sure you were OK. Oh, and there was a bomb went off up near the hospital but no one was hurt.’ He was pushing his chair back and standing up as he finished his cup of tea, kissing her again and telling her cheerfully, ‘Better get back, love.’
Vi was still in shock, still unable to do anything other than stare in disbelief at the scattered still smoking rubble that had once been a house. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to look at the shrouded stretcher she had seen carried away.
‘Well, I never thought that Hitler would bomb a nice road like this one,’ said a woman wearing a dressing gown to no one in particular. ‘All three of them were killed, so I’ve heard. He was a councillor, you know.’
‘Yes,’ Vi agreed, for once unwilling to boast of Edwin’s position and their connection to the Parkers.
She hadn’t been able to believe it when Edwin had told her that the Parkers’ house had been hit by a bomb and that the Parkers had been inside it at the time. No one would ever know why they hadn’t been in their Anderson shelter now, of course.
Bella had behaved very oddly when they’d told her, laughing so wildly that Edwin had said she was hysterical. It was the shock, of course. But like Edwin had said, there’d be things to do, seeing as Alan’s parents had been killed as well, and Bella was bound to come into a tidy sum of money, Alan being their only son and Bella his wife, or rather his widow.
‘Fran!’ Jean exclaimed in surprise when she opened the door to her younger sister later in the morning.
‘Jack’s dead,’ Francine said bleakly. ‘Killed by a bomb dropped on the farmhouse where Vi had sent him because it was safer than being here.’
‘Oh, Fran, no! Oh, my poor girl.’
Jean could hear the twins coming clattering down the stairs, exclaiming, ‘Auntie Fran, you’re back!’ their voices changing when they saw that she was crying.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Sasha asked uncertainly.
‘Go back up to your bedroom, you two,’ Jean instructed them. There’d be time enough to tell them what had happened later.
‘I never even got to say goodbye to him properly, or hold him or anything They couldn’t find anything, you see. Not anything at all. The bomb was a direct hit and …’
Very gently Jean guided her sister into the kitchen and then closed the door.
TWENTY-FOUR
‘I can’t go, Jean. I’m sorry but I just can’t.’
Francine’s face was thin and pale from the amount of weight she had lost in the three weeks since Jack had been killed, but her expression was resolute and Jean knew that she was not going to change her mind.
In a way Jean wasn’t surprised that Francine was refusing to go to the memorial service that was being held at Vi’s parish church after the normal Sunday morning service for those who had been killed in the recent bomb attacks on Wallasey, and which was to include Jack’s name. Francine had already told her that she would never be able to forgive herself for not insisting to Vi that Jack should stay in Liverpool, and even though Jean had told her that she should not feel like that, she could understand why she did.
‘There’s something else I’ve come to tell you as well,’ Francine added. ‘I don’t want to stay here now. I don’t think I can, so I’ve asked ENSA to see if they can find me a place in an overseas tour. If they can’t then I’ll go back to America. In the meantime I’m going to London to see if ENSA can come up with anything, and I’m leaving tonight. It’s for the best. I just couldn’t stay here.’
There was nothing that Jean could say, no comfort she could offer her, other than a swift hug and a mental prayer that somehow her troubled younger sister might find peace.
‘I still can’t believe that Alan’s father could have kept something like that hidden. It must have been a terrible shock to Bella to discover that, as well as losing her husband and his parents, Alan’s father’s business was so much in debt, and that Alan himself had borrowed so much money,’ said Grace.
‘It was a shock all round,’ Seb agreed. ‘I must admit that I never really took to the Parkers, but it didn’t occur to me that Alan’s father might actually be cheating the Government by submitting false invoices to them for work his company had been doing for the war effort.’
They were standing together outside the nurses’ home where Seb had met up with Grace a few minutes earlier, and they were waiting for the bus that would take them to Grace’s parents. From there the whole family, including Seb, were to go to Wallasey for the memorial service for those who had lost their lives in the recent bombing of Wallasey, including, of course, the Parkers.
‘Mum says that Auntie Vi was beside herself when she found out what had been going on. It’s just as well that Uncle Edwin owns Bella’s house because if he didn’t, according to Mum, Bella would have been left penniless. As it is, Uncle Edwin has felt obliged to pay off Alan’s debts.’
Grace paused for a minute before continuing sadly, ‘They’re going to mention Jack in the service as well, even though he was killed in Wales. I still can’t believe that he’s gone, poor little boy.’
Seb squeezed Grace’s hand comfortingly.
Grace knew that her mother had been a bit hesitant about the fact that Seb was going to accompany them to the service, but Grace had stuck to her guns, reminding her mother that Seb was technically at least connected to the Parkers, and that therefore in one sense it was only right that he should be there for formality’s sake, if nothing else.
‘That’s all very well,’ Jean had told her, ‘but I’m not sure about him coming along with us, Grace, especially in view of what’s come out about Alan and his parents. Vi’s in a bad enough state as it is.’
Grace had understood what her mother was saying but she had grown up a lot in the year and a bit since war ha
d first been declared.
‘Me and Seb aren’t going to rush into anything, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t know how we feel about one another, and so it’s plain daft for us not to go together, especially with him living on this side of the water and everything. I don’t want to cause any upset to Auntie Vi, but I’m not having Seb being upset either and made to feel that he isn’t wanted, just because of the Parkers. After all, one day when this war’s over he’s going to be a part of this family, and I’m not having him hidden away like him and me don’t exist because of Auntie Vi.’
Grace remembered that conversation now, and the way her father, who had been listening to it, had given a brief nod of his head and said, ‘The lass is right, Jean, and besides, I think it’s time we had a look at this lad for ourselves, seeing as our Grace seems to have made up her mind he’s the one for her.’ Grace smiled to herself. She knew that her dad and Seb would get on.
Now, as they watched the bus trundling towards them, Grace asked Seb lovingly, ‘How’s your shoulder?’
‘A bit stiff still but apart from that it’s fine, even though I’ve had to work a couple of double shifts on account of the number of messages that are coming through.’
The bus had arrived but before they got on Grace noticed that Seb’s tie wasn’t quite straight and needed her attention.
‘Stop looking at me like that,’ Seb warned her, ‘otherwise I’m going to have to kiss you right here in front of everyone.’
They were both flirting with danger as well as with one another Grace knew, but the feeling was so deliciously heady and exciting that it was too wonderful to resist. Now she knew why Teddy had wanted her to wait, and every night when she said her prayers, she said a special one just for him, thanking him for the strength of his love for her and the protection it had given her.
* * *
The church was packed, not just with those who had come to mourn but also with those who had come to pay their respects to those mourning.
Today there were no white flowers decorating the inside of the church as there had been on the day of Bella’s marriage to Alan. Instead there were wreaths. Where there had been bunches of flowers and white ribbons to decorate the ends of the pews, today the pews of the mourners and their families were marked by black ribbons.
Hushed voices and sombre music were the order of the day, the hush broken now and again by the sound of grief-stricken sobs, bearing witness to emotions that could not be denied.
But along with those who had come to mourn, there were also those who had come to give thanks for the miracle that was the RAF’s victory over the Luftwaffe in what was being termed the Battle of Britain, so whilst the mood was one of grief and loss, for many there was also a sense of reaching out for the hope that ultimately there would be victory, and that mood spread gently amongst the congregation like a benison.
As they all knew, with heroic bravery and endurance the men of the RAF had gone up again and again into the September skies above the south of England to engage the Luftwaffe in a fight to the death that would decide the fate of the whole country.
Even those who mourned the loss of loved ones were still thankful for the RAF’s victory, and Bella, standing silently outside the church, dressed in black, before the service, saw how people turned eagerly to speak to Jan, in his RAF uniform, and shake his hand as he waited to escort his mother and sister into the church.
At her side Bella could hear her own mother still complaining to anyone who would listen about the Parker’s dishonesty and Bella’s own ‘poverty’, but she couldn’t summon any interest in what her mother was saying. She felt nothing for Alan or his parents, no sense of loss, no sense of grievance, nothing, her grieving and her pain was all for the baby she had miscarried and the intensity of those feelings was still as strong now, a month later, as it had been when it had happened, and still as bewildering to her. Why, after all, should she mourn so fiercely a life she had never wanted for its own sake, only for what it could be used for?
It frightened her – on those occasions when awareness pierced the comforting numbing cotton wool nothingness that occupied most of her waking hours – to realise how hard it was for her to recognise herself in this grieving woman whose pain would not go away, because she was so very different from how she remembered herself. But then the nothingness would come back to claim and comfort her and she would sink back into its welcome embrace.
She didn’t even really feel anything for Jack, her brother, other than a mild sense of disbelief that he had actually been killed.
One day she knew that she would have to leave the safety of her numbness and return to real life. But definitely not yet.
‘Auntie Jean’s here,’ she told her mother as she caught sight of her mother’s twin and her family.
The last time they had been here had been for Bella’s wedding, Grace reflected as she and Seb waited to file into the church behind the rest of her family, having paused whilst Seb introduced himself to Jan as a fellow member of the RAF.
The service was simple but poignant, and it was obvious that many tears were being discreetly shed by the congregation as the vicar spoke of the great bravery and sacrifice of the pilots of the RAF during their recent dogfights with the Luftwaffe, and then went on to speak of the equal bravery and sacrifice of those families who had lost loved ones in the recent bombings of Wallasey itself, with a very special mention of Jack right at the end of his address.
Prayers were said for all those who had died, and for their families, and Grace was grateful for the clean handkerchief that Seb passed to her.
‘At least Bella won’t lose the house, seeing as it was Edwin who bought it,’ Sam commented afterwards when they were on their way home.
‘Vi wants her to move back in with them,’ Jean told him, ‘but Edwin says there’s no point in trying to sell the house at the moment because no one wants to buy property when it could be bombed and destroyed, and besides, Bella’s got those refugees billeted on her. Vi thinks they should leave after what’s happened, but I’d have thought that Bella would be glad of the company. They seemed decent sorts. What did you think, Seb?’
Grace expelled a small sigh of relief. Although her parents hadn’t exactly been unwelcoming to Seb, they hadn’t actually welcomed him into the family either, and Grace had known that they were reserving judgement on him. Now by inviting his opinion she knew that her mother was signalling her approval of him.
‘Like you, I thought they seemed very decent,’ said Seb.
‘So did I,’ said Luke, ‘although I got the impression that Charlie isn’t very keen on Jan. He was making some pretty near-the-bone remarks about foreigners getting into the RAF when British lads can’t, at one point. Not that he could get anyone to agree with him. But you know what Charlie’s like,’ he added frankly, before turning to Seb and asking him what he thought the chances were of Hitler actually invading now that the RAF had beaten off the Luftwaffe.
‘Well, none of us is privy to everything that’s known, of course,’ Seb answered, ‘but the Government has said that Hitler has cancelled “Operation Sealion”, which was the codename for his planned invasion of Britain.’
‘The German Navy is still a very real threat to our shipping, though, and we mustn’t forget that,’ Sam put in.
They all looked grave, knowing that only that week 12 ships in one convoy had been lost, and a U-boat torpedo had sunk the SS City of Benares, which had been on its way to Canada, killing 77 children and 248 crew.
‘How much longer can it go on for?’ Jean asked. ‘We’re having air raids every other night, and London’s taking a real pounding from the bombers; even Buckingham Palace has been hit.’
By the time the Mersey had been crossed, and they had all disembarked from the ferry, Grace had the satisfaction of knowing just from listening to her parents and her siblings talking to Seb and without there being any need to say so, that they liked him and were prepared to accept him into the family.
Not of course that she had imagined for one minute that they would not.
Even so, as Seb himself remarked later as he walked her back to the nurses’ home, he felt relieved that he had ‘passed muster’ and that they were now an official couple.
Grace sent up a small prayer for an early end to the war so that they could all get on with their lives in peace and safety.
TWENTY-FIVE
‘In less than a month it will be Christmas.’
Seb grinned and hugged Grace closer to him as they sat together on the tram. They’d spent the evening with Grace’s parents and now Seb was seeing Grace back to the nurses’ home before returning to his own billet.
‘Ernest Brown Junior Technical School, Durning Road,’ the conductor sang out as they approached a tram stop.
Ignoring him since it wasn’t their stop, Seb teased, ‘If that’s a hint about Father Christmas …?’ but then fell silent as the familiar sound of the air-raid siren began.
‘There’s a public shelter at the Technical School, just past the tram stop,’ the conductor yelled as the tram came to a halt, and dutifully everyone stood up and filed off.
Because they had politely held back to allow the older passengers to go first, Grace and Seb were amongst the last to reach the shelter, which was so packed with people that they only just managed to find a small patch of standing space right by the door. It was too late to look for somewhere else, though, as they could already hear the planes quite clearly approaching.
Those in charge were grumbling about the extra intake of people as the doors were closed.
In the distance they could hear bombs exploding.
‘We wouldn’t normally be out so late but we’d bin visiting the wife’s parents,’ a man standing next to them, his wife and two young children with him, explained to Grace and Seb.
Deeper into the shelter people had started to sing Christmas carols, and the children, one held tightly by each parent, immediately started to join in.