Forget-Me-Not Child

by Anne Bennett

  Angela was still silent and so Mr Potter went on, ‘Think of this from the other way round. Say you had a few days free and wrote and told him at the training camp, would you expect him to be able to go up to his Commanding Officer and be given time off to spend with you?’

  ‘No of course not,’ Angela said. ‘But he’s in the Army.’

  ‘And so are you in a way,’ Mr Potter said. ‘The job you are doing is a very important one and one that carries responsibilities. Remember, the people who make the ammunition are just as important as the people who use it and they rely on us to produce the goods. Shortly your husband may rely on us and we cannot let our boys down. You do see that?’

  Dumbly Angela nodded her head and Mr Potter said, ‘Good girl. And I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll give you Saturday morning off so you can have two full days together.’

  It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but Angela knew it was all she was going to get and so she thanked him and went back to the canteen to find Maggie had saved her a beef pie. It was cold but Angela was too hungry to care and as she ate she told Maggie what Mr Potter had said.

  Both Mary and Maggie were astounded by the factory’s lack of understanding. Angela had not told Barry she was making shells, just said she was doing war-related work and was deliberately vague. In this letter she admitted the truth and then he could quite see why the factory had taken the stance it had because they had been warned about the lack of shells. In fact they had had a pep talk the same day that Angela’s letter arrived. The Commanding Officer, knowing the men were heading off to start their embarkation leave the following day, had them all assembled in the drill hall and explained he wanted to talk about the womenfolk they had left behind back home.

  ‘Many of you have been brought up to respect and protect women and in particular mothers, wives, sisters, girlfriends, but all that has been turned on its head with this war. You are no longer around to protect them and they have not only coped with that, but many are out at work and are running the country in our absence, doing jobs only men have done in the past. They are also making virtually all the weaponry we use. Make no mistake, without them we would be lucky to win this war. So when you go home, do not forbid them to work in these industries, tell them to take all reasonable precautions of course, but that’s all. Support their efforts and tell them how valuable their work is and how proud you are of them, and you should be proud, for the women of this land have proved to be truly remarkable.’

  With words like that ringing in his ears Barry thought he could do no other than be supportive of what his wife had chosen to do, just as he had chosen to fight, though the thought of his lovely Angela in a noisy, dirty, smelly factory secretly filled him with a horror that he knew he couldn’t show for he had no right to do so.

  The following morning Angela went to work reluctantly and then had to fight to keep her mind on the job for she kept thinking of Barry and wondering what he was doing. But she forced herself to focus for shoddy work could cause accidents and accidents in an explosives factory had to be avoided at all costs.

  Barry in fact spent ages getting to know his daughter again who had changed so much in the weeks he had been away. Now going on for two, she was a little girl rather than a baby and knew a raft of words and sentences and used them constantly and was a regular little chatterbox and an amusing one. Her smile seemed to light up the whole room and sometimes she would sing the nursery rhymes or lullabies she had learnt from her mother or grandmother. Barry loved her so much he ached at the thought of saying goodbye to her on Monday morning.

  He took her with him when he went to meet Angela from work that night, and as the two stood in the road the lamplighter came round because the dusk was beginning to tinge the day, and Connie was very excited for she was seldom out in the dark and she danced from one foot to the other. Despite the gloom they had been spotted by one of the first women surging towards the gate. One woman shouted back over her shoulder, ‘Handsome soldier waiting for some lucky lady.’

  The cry was taken up by the women following. ‘I bet it’s Angela’s husband,’ called another. ‘She said he was coming home on leave today.’

  There was a collective sigh of sympathy for every woman there knew what that leave signified.

  But Angela had heard them and was battling her way through and they parted to let her go and when she saw Barry she gave a cry of unadulterated joy and dashed across to him and as his arms went around her, just as she imagined they would, she put her arms around his neck and burst into tears.

  She wasn’t the only one for the naked love between the young couple was emotional for the others as well and especially Maggie, and they all knew that soon they would be parted again and no one knew what the future held for any of them.

  It was Connie broke the spell. Fed up with being ignored, she let out a cry and Barry’s response was to lift her into his arms and plant a kiss on her cheek. Then he lifted her onto his shoulders and extending a hand to Angela said, ‘Shall we go home?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Angela agreed. ‘But I usually go home with Maggie,’ she added as Maggie came towards them to shake Barry by the hand. She had heard Angela’s words though and she said, ‘But these are not usual times are they? Your time together is limited and I’d say you need to make the most of every minute, so tonight I will go for the tram on my own.’

  ‘Oh, but …’

  ‘But nothing,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m off and I will see you in the morning.’

  ‘Let her go,’ Barry said, putting a restraining hand on Angela’s hand when she would have called Maggie back. ‘Maggie is a very wise girl and she knows that I need time with my wife and child before I share them even with Mammy. I had thought to walk, unless you are too tired?’

  The shroud of weariness fell from Angela and the aches in her feet and legs ceased to matter because to walk would give them more time together and what was a little discomfort measured against that?

  As they walked Barry told Angela a little of what his life had been like since he had left. He talked of the scratchy uniforms and the route marches in boots that gave him blister on top of blister till an old hand told him to wee in the boots to soften them.

  ‘Ugh and did you?’ Angela asked, the look of disgust plain on her face.

  Barry laughed as he caught sight of her face as they passed under a street lamp. ‘You wouldn’t look like that if you had seen the state of my feet, believe me I would have tried anything, so I did as this old lag said and it worked a treat and the boots are more supple altogether and I wasn’t the only one to take his advice either. Do you wear boots?’

  Angela nodded. ‘Um we do, but they’re rubber ones,’ and she went on to describe the care taken to ensure they were wearing nothing metal that might generate a spark. Barry was glad of the precautions for the girls’ safety. ‘I would say it’s necessary,’ he said. ‘Shame about your wedding ring though.’

  ‘It just seemed more sensible to leave it at home.’

  ‘Oh yes I can see that. I’d love to see you in those boiler suits though.’

  ‘What about your uniform?’ Angela said. ‘It’s too dark to see it properly.’

  ‘Oh wait till you see the shiny buckles and buttons that I have to polish every day. I don’t see what point there is to it. T’isn’t as if we are going to worry about such things in the heat of battle. The Sergeant said he wanted to see his face in our boots. For what purpose? They say the trenches are filled with mud and completely waterlogged a lot of the time, so it is a useless exercise unless we are going to have a quick polish of everything polishable before we go over the top.’

  A mental image flashed through Angela’s brain of Barry climbing out of the relative safety of the trench to meet a hail of bullets from the other side. She shut her eyes against the scene and felt tears stinging them as she said, ‘Don’t.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Talk about going over the top.’

  ‘Angela that’s what will happe
n. It’s what I’m training for.’

  ‘I know that,’ Angela said. ‘And don’t you think I’ll have time enough to think of that when you are gone? Do we have to spoil the few days’ leave you have discussing it now?’

  Barry could see the level of Angela’s distress and he said, ‘You are right, no more war talk.’

  Barry saw Angela’s shoulders sag in relief and he was glad he hadn’t told her how they were shown how to fix a bayonet to the barrel of a rifle and then charge at a straw-filled dummy bellowing and roaring like some sort of wild beast. ‘And when you have the bayonet right in, give it a twist before you pull it out and you will have gutted him good and proper,’ the Sergeant said.

  It had made Barry feel quite sick and he said later back in the barracks, ‘I don’t think I could do that to another human being.’

  ‘Haven’t you learnt anything, McClusky?’ a fellow soldier said. ‘They are not human beings they’re the enemy.’

  ‘Yes, but …’

  ‘There ain’t a but, not in this,’ said another soldier. ‘Tell you straight, if it was him or me, I’d make sure it was him and if he touched my family, like they’d done in Belgium, I’d pull his guts clean out and lose no sleep over it.’

  ‘Penny for them,’ Angela said and jerked Barry out of his reverie.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘And they’re not worth a penny. Good job we’re nearly home for Connie seems to be dropping off on my shoulders.’

  Barry’s words caused the drowsy Connie to jump and she said mulishly, ‘Not tired.’

  Barry’s twinkling eyes met those of Angela and he said, ‘Are you not, young Connie? Well in that case I think you can walk the last few yards home.’

  When he let her down on the street though, she stumbled and would have fallen had Angela not caught up her hand. Barry caught up the other one and they swung her home and arrived through the door full of laughter and Angela stored such memories in her heart.

  It was the first time that Angela had a real good look at Barry. In the light from the gas lamps she felt a thrill of pride run through her because he was so incredibly smart in his uniform. There was something about his manner too, he held himself straighter so he appeared taller. Even his walk was different, all those route marches Angela supposed, and if anything she loved him more than ever.

  But if she thought Barry had changed Barry thought Angela had turned into a woman he hardly recognized. He had left behind a young girl and came back to a woman, and what’s more a more self-assured and confident woman, and where once she would have always deferred to him, he could guess that she would no longer do that for now she had to make decisions for herself. He was immensely glad the Commanding Officer had taken time to warn all those going home how life had changed for the families and particularly the women left behind, for in his heart of hearts he wasn’t sure he liked the new Angela. He knew he could never say this to her, but he was used to being the master in his own house and he appeared to be that no longer.

  On the other hand, he was immensely proud of Angela for the way she had coped and taken up the reins of the house and worked long and arduous hours to put food on the table and pay the rent, and though the job was dirty and exhausting she was glad to do it because it was essential to the war effort, and he knew whatever personal misgivings he might have, he would say nothing about them and only tell Angela how proud he was of her.

  Angela was not used to being overly praised by her husband and was a little embarrassed, but even allowing for the fact she had changed considerably Barry was unprepared for what she said later as they sat before the fire with their last cup of tea before bed. Barry had asked her what she did in the factory and she had told him and then added, ‘I can’t ever say that I think war could possibly ever be a good thing and I know so many have died and we at home have tasted tragedy and suffered loss already and still it goes on. And yet this job, that I would never have done had the country not been at war, has opened up new horizons for me.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well I suppose like learning to drive the petrol-driven trucks.’

  Barry stared at her with his mouth open. And then repeated, ‘You’re learning to drive petrol-driven trucks?’

  Angela nodded. ‘Not on the road yet,’ she said. ‘I started off in the warehouse just learning how all the controls on the truck work and how they control the engine.’

  ‘Control the engine,’ Barry repeated again. ‘God I’m beginning to sound like Little Sir Echo, but this is mind-boggling. Do I take it that you actually know how a petrol engine works?’

  ‘Basically yes,’ Angela said. ‘Sometimes mechanics are hard to find and if you are stuck miles from anywhere and your truck breaks down, you need to be able to get it going again as quickly as possible, especially if it’s stacked with shells that are needed somewhere.’

  ‘Oh I agree with that,’ Barry said. ‘But you don’t ride on the roads you say?’

  ‘No, I’ve had to practise in the yard till they were confident I’d got the hang of it,’ Angela said. ‘But they said last week that I’ll be all right to go out soon, this week probably.’

  ‘Well I think you’re a marvel,’ Barry said in admiration. ‘What d’you think, Ma?’

  ‘I’ll tell you straight I wasn’t for it at first,’ Mary said. ‘I thought it was too dangerous hauling those shells about the place, but Angela said that it was no more dangerous than what she was doing every day; shaping them and filling them with explosives and this way at least she gets out of that smelly, dirty factory.’

  ‘I see what Mammy’s saying,’ Barry said. ‘But you will take care won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ Angela said. ‘I have no wish to blow myself to Kingdom come. But just now I must seek my bed for the morning is not that far away.’

  TWENTY-ONE

  The next morning Angela just bit back a groan as the alarm went off. It had roused Barry too and he stretched out his hand and murmured, ‘Morning, Mrs McClusky.’

  ‘Hush,’ whispered Angela. ‘You’ll wake Connie and she wakes up early enough without an alarm believe me.’ And so saying she gave Barry a kiss on the cheek, slipped out of bed and gathering her clothes in her arms and went downstairs to dress as she did every morning.

  She was just making a cup of tea when Barry entered the room and Angela turned in surprise, ‘What are you doing up?’

  ‘I wanted to say a proper goodbye to my wife, what’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Angela said. ‘It’s just so early.’

  ‘Angela I’m a soldier,’ Barry said. ‘We can be up at any time and sleep on a clothes line, near enough. Come on and wet that tea and come and give me what I left my bed for.’

  Angela melted into Barry’s arms with a sigh of contentment. ‘I really wish they had given me the day off,’ she said. ‘I really don’t want to go in today.’

  ‘I know,’ Barry said. ‘I have the feeling it will be the hardest thing in the world to leave you on Monday. I must though or they would shoot me as a traitor and a coward.’

  Angela sighed as she said, ‘Mr Potter said our job making the shells was just as important as the soldier firing them.’

  ‘He’s right too,’ Barry said. ‘Now you give me that kiss I have been waiting for, and be on your way, and I will be at the factory gates when you finish.’

  The kiss could have been their undoing, but for the thought that Maggie would be waiting on the road and Angela knew she had absolutely no right to risk her being late. Barry quite understood that but when he released her he was breathless and Angela moaned and her whole body yearned for more. ‘Hold on to it until tonight,’ he advised.

  And Angela had a broad smile on her face as she lifted her coat from the peg for they had made love the previous night, although Barry had been hesitant, knowing how tired Angela was. Angela wouldn’t hear of it, knowing they had to squeeze every last second from their brief time together.

  ‘You all right?’ Magg
ie said as the two girls met.

  ‘Fine. Why?’

  ‘You’re just going round with a dirty great grin on your face that’s all,’ Maggie said as they hurried down Bristol Passage. ‘I was expecting you to have a face on you that would sour cream, having to go in today.’

  ‘No point being like that is there?’ Angela said. ‘I mean I said it to Barry and he sort of said that lots of people have to do things they don’t like when your country is at war. However hard it is for him to leave on Monday, if he didn’t he’d be shot as a traitor, but a real rollicking is all we’d get. So having made the decision to come in, it’s not fair to make everyone else’s life a misery because of it.’

  ‘Mighty glad to hear that,’ Maggie said. ‘Good, here’s the tram. This March wind is a bit bleak at this hour of the morning.’

  Maggie was right and Angela tucked her scarf well around her neck when they left the tram to walk across the town to the factory. She was glad to reach the shelter of it because as she’d walked across the Bull Ring she’d felt as if she had been blown to bits.

  She wished the day to speed by, but never had she known a day to pass so slowly and many a time she felt her mind wandering, imagining what Barry was doing and yearning to be with him and she constantly forced herself to concentrate.

  Eventually though the endless day drew to a close and at the gate Barry was waiting for her, but alone this time. ‘Where’s Connie?’

  ‘At home,’ Barry said. ‘Mammy was getting her ready for bed when I left, though she said she will keep her up till we get in. She was exhausted, but then I’ve had her out most of the day.’

  ‘Oh it’s lovely to be spending so much time with her,’ Angela said as she waved Maggie off towards the Bull Ring and took hold of Barry’s arm.

  ‘Well I have to make the most of every minute don’t I,’ Barry said. ‘Anyway it’s no hardship to spend time with Connie for the child is a joy to be with. But it suits me to have you to myself like this for I need to talk to you.’