by Mary Arden
As the train began to pull out of the station the woman offered me her newspaper to read, which I accepted gratefully, as I hadn’t been able to read a paper for ages. Although we knew that the Allied Forces had landed all along the Normandy coast the previous month, on what we now knew as ‘D’ day, I didn’t know many of the details. It felt very strange and almost surreal to read about what had happened on the beaches in Normandy, a place that I knew so well from all the happy summer holidays I had spent there with my family.
The children began to quarrel and told their mother that they were bored, so as I had brought my cards with me, I asked them if they’d like to play Snap and they both said a loud ‘yes’. We played all kinds of card games over the next hour or so, and then suddenly the train jerked to a stop. It didn’t move for half an hour and then the train slowly puffed into the next station, where the Guard insisted that we all had to get off. There was hardly enough room on the platform for all the people that had been on the train.
I walked up to the guard to ask him about the next train for Arrochar & Tarbert. ‘There isn’t another train until tomorrow now,’ the guard replied, ‘You’ll need to find lodgings for the night.’
I looked at my watch and saw that it was already half-past five. ‘Would you be able to tell me where I might find somewhere to stay please?’ I asked him, ‘and is there somewhere I can leave my bicycle overnight?’
The guard asked me to wait a minute, as several lorries had just turned up, and I watched as all the servicemen piled into them, and then drove off. Then a rickety old bus arrived and the civilians got onto that. I was now the only one left. Ten minutes later the guard reappeared and told me that the nearest hotel was a good hour away and that it would be very expensive. However, he knew a local widow called Mrs McTaggart, who might be able to give me a bed for the night, as she often took in guests during the summer. I asked him if he would call her for me, which he did, and half an hour later I was sitting in a lovely warm house having a cup of tea with the kind old lady. I apologized for being a nuisance, explaining the reason why I was stranded, and how grateful I was to her for offering a bed for the night. After I told her where I was heading, she warned me that it was still a good eighteen hours’ distance away from where I was now. The idea of another day and night travelling was daunting, but I would just have to cope.
The next morning, I went back to the station to catch the train to Arrochar & Tarbert, and after two more unexpected train changes and a short lorry drive, I finally arrived at my destination. I was pleased to discover that Tarbert was a rather attractive fishing village with multi-coloured houses. There were several fishing boats tied up on the quay, and I stood and watched a fisherman mending his net for a few minutes. I was enchanted at once. It was like a picture postcard.
About ten minutes later, it suddenly dawned on me that I might be waiting on the wrong quay for my ferry, so I went up to the fisherman and said, ‘Excuse me, could you tell me where the McBain ferry leaves from please?’
Without saying a word, the fisherman pointed to a notice, near where I’d been standing before. When I looked at the faded notice, I could just make out the name Campbeltown and the time the ferry was due to leave, which was two-thirty. As it was already ten past two, according to my watch, I wondered why the ferry was not there now, unloading its passengers before setting off again. I went back to the fisherman and said, ‘I’m sorry for being so stupid, but why is the ferry not here now, if it’s supposed to leave at two thirty?’
The fisherman looked up at me as though I was a bit simple and said, ‘It does leave at two-thirty, but not today,’ and then he went back to his nets.
‘Oh, why is that?’ I persisted.
‘It’s because of yesterday,’ he said as though I should have known what happened.
‘I am sorry, but I still don’t understand. What happened yesterday?’
‘Big storm,’ the fisherman informed me.
‘But it seems quite calm now,’ I said looking out to sea.
‘Aye, that it is, but it’s the livestock you understand?’
I didn’t understand, of course, but fortunately this time he realised that I hadn’t grasped what he meant, and so he continued, ‘They have to load all the animals on, but only when the sea is calm, as it’s an open deck. It should be leaving Campbeltown about now but it will no’ be leaving here until tomorrow.’
‘At two-thirty?’ I enquired.
‘Ach, no, not if there has been a storm. It will leave when it’s ready, to make up for yesterday,’ the fisherman told me helpfully.
‘Of course,’ I said, ‘that makes complete sense!’ Fortunately I don’t think the fisherman realised that I was being sarcastic. I now asked him if there was a bed and breakfast or hotel nearby that he could direct me to.
‘Are ye a Navy Girl?’ he asked looking me up and down.
‘I am,’ I nodded.
‘A wee Army girl was dropped off here in a car this morning, and I believe she put herself in yon hotel, that white building over there,’ he said pointing in the direction of the hotel. ‘Maybe ye could keep each other company?’
Balancing my overnight case on my bicycle basket, I made my way towards the hotel. When I got a bit closer I saw brightly decorated flower pots balanced on the windowsills, which reminded me of France. When I went in, the reception desk was deserted, so I pressed the bell on the desk and a few moments later an elderly man appeared. I asked him if he had a spare room for the night and explained that I was waiting to catch the ferry to Campbeltown.
‘Aye, but I only have a single room left at the back of the hotel and you will have to share the bathroom with the room next to yours,’ the old man said thumbing though the book. ‘And I expect payment in advance,’ he advised.
After I had paid, I was shown up to my room, which had old-fashioned lace curtains on the windows, a linen runner on the dressing table, and a plain bedspread on the bed. It was basic but at least it was clean. I bounced on the bed, and it seemed all right. Beggars can’t be choosers, I told myself and was very grateful that my father had given me some extra cash, ‘just in case’ something like this happened. As I was unpacking, there was a knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ I called out and was astonished when a strikingly attractive girl with reddish-brown hair stepped into my room.
‘Thank ‘eavens!’ she said with a foreign accent that I couldn’t place, ‘I was so glad when I ‘eard you speaking proper English and not this outlandeesh Scottish dialect.’ She must be French, I thought, not just because of her accent but also because she was very elegantly dressed.
‘I am Elaine, and you?’ she asked, so I introduced myself and told her that I was only staying one night, as there were no ferries until the next day.
‘Me too,’ Elaine said, as she looked around my room with disdain. ‘Mon Dieu Mar-ee, you cannot stay in ’ere, it is, ’ow do you say,’ her hands were now stretched out in dismay, ‘dreary and suitable only for a servant I think!’
‘Exactement!’ I said in my best French accent.
‘Come and look at my room,’ she suggested, ‘it is much more elegante.’
I laughed and followed her along a corridor to her room. She then opened the door with a flourish and said, ‘Voila!’
I noticed that a uniform was hanging on the wardrobe door, which looked similar to an ATS Officer’s, so asked her, ‘Are you in the ATS?’
‘Mon Dieu, non! I am a sort of French Fann-ee,’ she replied with a wicked smile, before adding, ‘a very appropriate name, non, for French Female Army personnel?’
I didn’t get her joke and stood there looking blankly at her.
‘Argh, a little English innocent, I should have guessed,’ she said shaking her head and wagging her finger at me.
The penny eventually dropped and it finally dawned on me what she had meant. I was a bit surprised that she had used a ‘double entendre’, and then realised that the French must have invented the expression, which
made me start giggling. I wished my cousin Jane could have been with me, as she would have really loved this vivacious woman with the naughty sense of humour.
Elaine’s room was much bigger and nicer than my single room at the back of the hotel, and it was beautifully furnished. I’d have loved to stay the night in a room like hers, but didn’t think the Navy would refund me for such luxury accommodation.
‘I have a bon idea,’ Elaine said, ‘why you don’t use your room to change your clothes only, and come and sleep in the spare bed in my room tonight and then we can talk all the night together, yes?’
Elaine then suggested that if I changed out of my uniform and put on some civvies, we could both go out for a walk together. I thought that sounded like a very good idea, so I went back to my room and put on my slacks and a shirt, before carefully locking the door to my room. I then went and knocked at Elaine’s door and when she called out, I went in. I gasped when I saw her: she was dressed in long shorts, rather like a divided skirt, called culottes. She was also wearing a very smart white blouse with a red silk scarf tied round her neck. ‘Oh, Elaine,’ I said enviously, ‘You do look so French!’
‘And you look just like an English school girl,’ she laughed, ‘but we see about that later.’
As we left the hotel, Elaine asked which way I would like to walk. ‘I haven’t a clue,’ I replied. ‘I’ve only been here for about an hour, but why don’t we get my bicycle and then we can take turns walking and riding, that way we can explore a bit further away from the port,’ I suggested.
It was lovely and warm and I couldn’t help but smile at what an odd couple we must have appeared: Elaine looking every bit as if she was joining a party at Henley, while I looked as if I was her younger brother, as my hair hadn’t grown back yet and was still quite short.
I rode my bicycle for a short distance and then left it propped against a wall for Elaine to collect. I then carried on walking until I heard her ring the bell and whizz past me. She then left my bike a little further up the road for me to collect and catch her up. We did this routine for about twenty minutes and then I started to feel hungry, so suggested that we look for a teashop.
We spotted a board with a picture of teapot painted on it hanging over the doorway of one of the small cottages, and when we got closer I saw a sign in the window, which advertised homemade cakes and scones and the price list was next to it, Everything seemed to cost a shilling and sixpence, much to the amusement of Elaine.
‘Always the extra sixpence!’ she laughed, ‘When I was still in France,’ she began, pausing suddenly. I looked up at her, and, noticing that her face looked desperately sad, thought that she must be missing her family, ‘When I was last in France, there were no homemade foods of any kind, the Bosh, they take everything.’
We went in and while Elaine went to the ladies, I found us a table and asked the woman who owned the shop if she was still serving tea or whether we were too late.
‘I don’t stick to times,’ she replied sternly, ‘if someone’s hungry I open up, otherwise I keep the door locked.’
When Elaine came and sat down next to me, the café owner’s eyes followed her with such awe that I thought that perhaps she had never seen anyone quite so chic before. I must admit that my new friend did look a bit like a film star with her rather smart attire, which must have appeared out of place in this tiny fishing village. The café owner then regained her composure and announced, ‘For tea there are treaclies and sponge.’
‘I would rather have a scone,’ Elaine suggested politely.
‘I told you, there are treaclies and sponge for tea,’ the woman repeated deliberately, now realising that Elaine was a ‘foreigner’.
‘What the ‘ell is treaclies?’ Elaine whispered.
We found out five minutes later, when the woman placed a large oval china plate on our table that had some brown triangular shaped scones on it. She then returned with another plate that had two huge slices of jam sponge cake on it. There was icing-sugar scattered all over the top.
‘Enjoy your tea and treaclies,’ she said, and I thought I detected a hint of a smile, as she left.
We both took a scone, cut it in half, and spread it thickly with butter, ‘I wish Duncan was here, as he’d love these scones,’ I said, without thinking. Elaine immediately wanted to know who Duncan was, so I explained that he was my boyfriend. I then asked Elaine to tell me a bit about her family.
‘My father is from Provence but my mother is from Devon, so I am half French and half English,’ she explained. ‘They are still in France but my brother is working as a translator in London, though I don’t get to see him very often.’
‘That must be hard for you?’ I said.
She now leant forward and whispered, ‘Many of my family are working for the Resistance, as they hate the Vichy government.’
After eating the delicious treaclies we were both full, so I suggested that we share one slice of sponge now, and save the other to have the next day on the ferry. She thought that was a good idea, so I wrapped a piece in my handkerchief and then placed it in my gasmask case.
When we got back to the hotel, I told my new friend that I was going to have a rest and change back into my uniform in my own room, but would join her a little later for dinner.
An hour later, I went to Elaine’s room and she suggested that I try on her red silk blouse, which she thought would look good with my navy blue skirt, ‘You could look almost French if you leave two buttons undone; then nobody will notice how ugly your black shoes and stockings are!’ After I had put it on, she put a gold chain around my neck, which she said I could borrow for the evening. She then rearranged my hair, fixing elegant waves with a comb and some setting lotion. She offered me a red lipstick to match the blouse I was wearing, which I applied lightly on my lips, and then she squirted some of her expensive French perfume behind my ears. When I looked in the mirror, I had been transformed.
‘I haven’t finished with you yet,’ she said laughing, as she undid the two top buttons of the blouse, ‘You don’t want to be mistaken for a school girl do you?’
‘No, I suppose not,’ I replied, slightly embarrassed, as I wasn’t used to revealing the top of my cleavage.
Elaine pinned her hair up on top of her head and changed into a very fetching tight, white pullover that fitted her figure so well that it left very little to the imagination. Satisfied that we both now looked ‘très chic’, Elaine smiled at me, and announced: ‘Right, now we both go downstairs and smile at the gentlemen by the bar.’ I didn’t want to smile at any gentlemen, but Elaine obviously did.
As we sat down, I noticed a middle-aged man, who had been reading a book, look up and admire Elaine. When he saw that I had caught him looking, he turned back to his book. I wondered if I would ever have the nerve to dress and act the way Elaine did.
Two Naval Officers then entered the bar and immediately made a beeline in our direction. One of them asked Elaine very politely if we had any objection if they joined us at our table. She smiled and gestured for them to sit down, and then to my surprise said, ‘May I introduce you to my younger sister, Mar-ee, we have been on ‘oliday in the area, but due to the weather and one thing and another, we missed yesterday’s ferry, so we find ourselves a bit on our own.’
I had to stifle a giggle at this outright lie, but at the same time, I was intrigued by Elaine’s behaviour, so decided to go along with it and see what happened. The men offered to buy us both a drink, and before I had time to refuse or accept, Elaine had accepted for us both, ‘Thank you, lemonade for my sister, but perhaps something a little more interesting for me,’ she told them.
‘I don’t think we should be talking to these men, Elaine, we haven’t been introduced,’ I whispered.
Instead of telling me not to worry, Elaine put a finger to her lips and whispered in my ear, ‘Trust me, Mar-ee I do know what I am doing. When you speak, do so with a French accent.’
I was astonished and whispered back, ‘Like a gam
e?’ She nodded and smiled at me conspiratorially.
After a while, I started to relax and began to enjoy myself. The four of us sat and chatted about all sorts of things and I was intrigued to see how Elaine managed to get the men to talk about themselves so easily. She got them to reveal which ships they had been on, where they were going next, and managed to get them to talk about things that I thought sounded a bit like classified information. All the men learned from Elaine, was our Christian names and that we were on our way to visit an elderly aunt who lived near Campbeltown.
‘What’s her name?’ one of the men asked. ‘We might know her.’
‘Tante Fanny!’ Elaine said, looking straight at me and winking. I had to excuse myself and quickly ran to the ladies before wetting myself in public, and had to hide in one of the cubicles until I had stopped laughing.
By the time I had composed myself and returned to the table the two Naval Officers had gone. Elaine and I then went through to the dining room for our evening meal. As soon as we sat down at our table, and I was sure that we couldn’t be overheard, I asked Elaine, ‘What was all that about? It was great fun, but why all those lies?’
‘Sshh!’ she said, as the waitress brought us some soup, ‘I will explain later.’
After we had finished our soup, Elaine suddenly began to laugh, ‘If only you could have seen your face when I told them that you were my younger sister,’ she spluttered.
‘I don’t like telling lies,’ I replied, a little crossly, ‘and to tell you the truth, I was getting worried about how we would get rid of them, as you were rather leading them on.’ I looked at Elaine and continued, ‘You wouldn’t have asked them up to our room would you?’