The Clippie Girls

by Margaret Dickinson

  Rose laughed. ‘I shouldn’t wonder. Goodness knows what they put in some of this tinned stuff we’re getting now. Bye for now. I’ll see you later.’

  Peggy went towards the tram she was on that morning, but when she reached it and climbed up on to the platform, she felt a wave of sickness wash over her. She clung to the handrail and took deep breaths until the feeling subsided a little.

  ‘’Morning, Peg,’ a cheerful voice hailed her. It was her motorman, William, who always insisted on the full use of his own name but always seemed to shorten the names of others, or give them nicknames. ‘Ready for the off?’

  ‘I – think so.’

  ‘Hey, you OK? You look as white as a sheet.’

  ‘I feel a bit queasy. I think it must be something I ate.’

  ‘D’you want to go home sick, because you’d better do it now rather when we’re half way round the route.’

  ‘No – no, I’ll be fine. It’s going off now. We’d better be on our way or else we’ll have Mr Bower after us.’

  The day passed without further incident. She ate her mid-morning snack and felt much better, but the following morning she felt light-headed and nauseous when she got out of bed and had to reach for the chamber pot.

  ‘Just a piece of dry toast, Mam,’ she said when at last she arrived at the breakfast table looking tired and white-faced.

  ‘You’re working too hard,’ Mary said. ‘The early morning shift when we’re all rushing to work is the very devil. Why don’t you ask Mr Bower for a couple of days off and have a really good rest?’

  ‘That won’t bring her a letter, will it?’ Myrtle put in. ‘That’s what’s upsetting her. She’s afraid he’s got killed and that’s why—’

  ‘Myrtle,’ Mary snapped. ‘That’s enough.’

  If it was possible, Peggy turned even paler. ‘No, Mam, I’ll be all right. I was fine yesterday once I got to work.’ Her smile was a little wobbly as she added, ‘Takes my mind off things. And don’t be cross with Myrtle because she’s right. I am worried something might have happened to Terry.’

  Mary was on the late shift that day and once the girls had all left the house for work and school, she began to clear the dirty pots into the scullery to wash.

  Grace shook her paper with an angry rattle. ‘Mary – that girl’s pregnant.’

  Mary almost dropped the teapot she was carrying. She turned to stare at her mother. ‘Oh no, Mother, she can’t be. I mean – Peggy wouldn’t—’ She stopped and bit down hard on her trembling lip.

  ‘Oh yes, she would,’ Grace muttered sourly. ‘She was out very late at night with that lad. Up to no good, I’ll be bound.’ She lowered her paper and stared straight at her daughter. ‘But I’ll tell you something now, Mary. If she is pregnant, out she goes. I’ll not have such shame brought to my house.’

  That evening, when Peggy came home from work and went upstairs to the bedroom she shared with her mother, Mary followed her. She closed the door quietly and sat down on her own bed, waiting until Peggy had splashed her face in the porcelain bowl on the wash-stand and hung her uniform up on a hanger behind the door. As she pulled on a jumper and stepped into a skirt, Mary asked gently, ‘How’ve you been today, love?’

  ‘Fine – once I got to work. Like I said, must be something I ate.’

  Mary ran her tongue round her lips that were suddenly dry. ‘How – how long have you been feeling sick in the morning?’

  Peggy paused in fastening her skirt and stared at her mother. Confusion, fear and the beginnings of shame flooded into her eyes. She sank down onto the bed opposite Mary and twisted her fingers together. ‘About – about a week.’

  ‘And when did you last have your monthly visitor?’

  Peggy jumped up and tore the calendar from the wall, turning back the page. ‘Oh no!’ she breathed in an agonized whisper. She raised terrified eyes to meet Mary’s worried gaze. ‘I’ve missed one completely.’

  ‘And was the last one you had before Terry went back?’

  Peggy bit her lip and nodded.

  ‘And you’ve not had one since?’

  Peggy shook her head.

  ‘And did you – sleep with him?’

  Peggy closed her eyes and groaned. She covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh, Mam, I couldn’t help it. I love him so. And he was going away and might never come back, but I never thought . . .’

  ‘No,’ Mary said flatly, ‘when you’re young and in love, you never do stop to think.’

  Peggy raised tear-filled eyes. ‘How – how are we going to tell Gran? Whatever will she say?’

  ‘She knows, or rather she’s guessed. And – I’m sorry to say it – but she says she’ll turn you out.’

  ‘Turn me out?’ Peggy was shocked. She knew her grandmother was strict and never missed an opportunity to remind them just whose house it was that they were all living in, but she’d never thought Grace would be so harsh.

  ‘She wouldn’t, would she? She wouldn’t really turn me out? Where would I go?’

  Mary touched her daughter’s hand. ‘If she does that, we’ll all go. Somehow we could manage between us.’

  ‘But that wouldn’t be fair on Gran. I couldn’t let you do that, not when she’s getting older and will need help. No, I’ll – I’ll have to go.’

  ‘I’ll talk to her. And Rose and Myrtle will stand by you.’

  But Mary was wrong. When they all sat together later that evening and Peggy admitted that she believed she was pregnant, Rose was vicious in her condemnation. Even Grace had not been so vitriolic.

  ‘You dirty little slut! How could you bring shame on us all like that and with someone you hardly know? My God, no wonder you haven’t heard from him. He’s just been using you as a bit on the side – a bit of fun – before he went to war. And now he’s deserted you.’

  Peggy hung her head and let the tears flow. She had no argument against Rose’s accusations. Myrtle said nothing. She was watching their grandmother for her reaction. When the old lady continued to sit quietly in her chair near the fire, taking no part in the arguments raging around the room, Myrtle asked quietly, ‘What are you going to do, Gran?’

  There was silence, whilst all eyes turned towards Grace. Even Peggy lifted her tear-streaked face.

  ‘I told your mother that if you were pregnant – and it looks very much as if you are – I’d turn you out.’

  Peggy gave a sob, jumped up and fled from the room. There was silence after she’d gone until, yet again, Myrtle was the one to ask, ‘And did you mean it, Gran?’

  ‘Of course she means it,’ Rose snapped. ‘And if she doesn’t, then I’ll throw her out.’

  ‘It’s not your place, Rose,’ Grace said quietly, but firmly. ‘If there’s any throwing out to be done, then I shall do it.’

  Rose pursed her lips as if to stop herself saying any more.

  Grace rose unsteadily to her feet. ‘I’m going to bed. All this has made me feel very old and very tired. I’m disappointed in Peggy. I’d thought better of her.’ She glanced at Rose.

  ‘What?’ Rose stared back at her grandmother and then colour flooded her face. ‘Oh, I get it. You wouldn’t have been surprised if it’d been me – is that it?’

  ‘I never said a word.’

  ‘No, but you looked it. Ta very much, Gran.’ Rose leaned forward. ‘But I’ll tell you summat. I’ll never let a feller touch me – not even Bob – till I’m wed. So there. You can put that in your pipe and smoke it.’

  ‘Aye,’ Grace shot back, with a vigour she thought had deserted her. ‘An’ I’ll believe that when I see it. When he comes back and begs you to show him how much you love him before he goes back to the war, back into danger, you’ll give way. Just like I expect Peggy’s done.’

  ‘I don’t reckon she’d’ve needed much persuading,’ Rose said nastily.

  ‘Oh, please, please stop arguing.’ Mary cried as she put her head in her hands. ‘Whatever are we to do?’

  For a moment, Grace paused by the door on he
r way out. She looked back at her daughter. ‘I’ll let you know in the morning, when I’ve had time to sleep on it. Goodnight – though I don’t expect it will be a good one for any of us.’

  When Mary went up to bed too she found Peggy sobbing into her pillow. She sat on the side of the single bed and put her arms round her daughter. ‘Come on now, love. You’ll do yourself no good, nor the baby.’

  At her words, Peggy sobbed all the harder until Mary was obliged to say firmly, ‘Now, stop this. We’ll work something out.’

  Still hiccuping miserably, Peggy pulled herself up. ‘Did Gran really mean what she said?’

  Mary sighed. ‘She’s sleeping on it. She’s going to let us know in the morning.’

  ‘And Rose? What about Rose? I know she hates me for what I did to Bob, but—’

  ‘You leave Rose to me. I’ll handle her.’ Mary, usually such a gentle soul, could on occasions surprise her family. When something important happened, Mary revealed a backbone of steel. Peggy lay back against the pillows. As long as her mother stood by her, she thought, she didn’t really need the others.

  ‘Mam, I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you, but you won’t desert me, will you?’

  ‘I’ll not lie to you, Peggy. I wish it hadn’t happened. I thought I’d brought you up better than that, but, no, I won’t let you be homeless. Whatever your gran decides in the morning, we’ll deal with it.’

  Grace was late getting up the following day and they all, including Mary, who was starting a run of early-morning shifts, had to leave before she appeared.

  Rose marched ahead of Peggy, refusing to speak to her or even walk beside her to work. Only Mary remained faithfully at her daughter’s side.

  ‘How do you feel this morning? Still sickly?’

  ‘A bit. I’ve just got this awful hollow feeling inside. Maybe, I’ll lose it, Mam. It’d be for the best—’

  Mary stopped suddenly, grasped Peggy’s arm and swung her round to face her. Her face was blazing. ‘Don’t you ever – ever – let me hear you say such a thing again. All life is precious. My God, we should know that when we’re losing so many fine young men all over again in another bloody war.’

  Peggy gasped. Mary never swore, never raised her voice, and to see her so angry and almost shouting in the middle of the street was almost more of a shock than finding out she was pregnant.

  ‘Mam, I—’

  ‘If you’ve created a life, then it’s your responsibility to look after it. To love and nurture it however it’s come about. Your situation isn’t ideal, fingers will be pointed, and folks will whisper behind their hands. We have that to face. But face it we will because it’s not the fault of the poor little mite you’re carrying. You’ll love it and care for it, even if we have to do it without its father. You hear me, Peggy?’

  But without giving her daughter the chance to reply, Mary loosened her grip, turned and walked on. Open-mouthed, Peggy stared after her for a few moments before hurrying to catch her up as they reached the depot together. She didn’t want all the Sylvester women to be seen arriving separately. The gossip would start soon enough.

  Thirty

  That evening Mary and Peggy walked home together. Rose, though she was due to finish work at the same time, was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘I expect she’s gone round to Mrs Deeton’s to see if she’s had a letter from Bob.’

  ‘D’you think she’ll tell her about me?’

  Mary sighed. ‘I’ve no idea what Rose will do next, love. But she’s the least of my worries just now. Let’s get home and see what your gran has to say. We’ll know what we’ve got to deal with then.’

  Grace was sitting in her usual place by the fire, but her newspaper lay idly on her lap and the elderly woman was gazing into the fire. She didn’t even look up as Mary and Peggy entered the room. Grace usually began the preparations for the evening meal, but tonight nothing had been done.

  ‘Mother,’ Mary said tentatively. ‘Are you all right?’

  Slowly, Grace raised her head. She stared at Mary for a long moment before saying, ‘Are you? Are any of us?’

  Peggy turned and left the room. Whatever decision Grace had made about her future, Mary would relay the message. She couldn’t bear to stay in the same room and see the accusation, the disappointment in her grandmother’s eyes.

  Mary took off her coat and sat down opposite her mother. With surprising spirit for one so usually meek and mild, Mary asked. ‘Well, do we stay or do we go?’

  ‘Who said anything about “we”? This only concerns Peggy.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mother, but if Peggy goes then we all go.’

  Grace’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. ‘Putting a gun to my head, are you?’

  ‘Not at all. This is your house.’ She almost added, ‘As you so often remind us,’ but thought better of it. She didn’t want to antagonize her mother further or cause an unpleasant argument. Instead, she went on, ‘And you have every right to ask Peggy to leave if you feel she has brought shame and disgrace to the family. But, in turn, I am not about to desert my daughter. Yes, I’m as disappointed in her as you are, but I will stand by her and help her. She’s not the first to have a child out of wedlock nor, sadly, will she be the last. In fact, with this war, there are likely to be a lot more girls finding themselves in her position.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ Grace muttered, ‘but I hadn’t expected my granddaughter to be one of them.’

  ‘Nor had I, Mother. But she is and we’ve got to deal with it.’

  ‘Rose won’t go,’ Grace said suddenly.

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘You said, “We’ll all go.” Rose won’t go. She’s already said so.’

  ‘When did she say that?’

  ‘Dinnertime. She dashed home in her break to see if there was a letter from Bob.’

  ‘And was there?’

  ‘No. She’ll’ve gone to see Mrs Deeton. She said she would go after work.’

  ‘I thought as much.’ Mary paused then continued, ‘So – you discussed things with Rose, did you?’

  ‘Yes. She guessed that you wouldn’t stand by and see Peggy turned out, but she’s made it quite clear that she’ll stay with me. I think she’s even more disgusted at Peggy than I am.’

  ‘And what about Myrtle? I presume she’s up in her room doing her homework. Have you discussed this with her too?’ A note of sarcasm crept into Mary’s tone. She couldn’t help it.

  ‘She wants to stay here too, mainly, I suspect,’ Grace added with a wry smile, ‘because of her school.’

  ‘So, it’s just Peggy and me who’ll be leaving then, is it?’

  ‘I haven’t said anyone’s leaving yet.’

  Mary raised her eyebrows. She was used to her mother’s teasing. This was no time to play games, but she had no choice but to wait patiently until Grace was ready to make her pronouncement. With some sort of perverse pleasure, Mary thought, her mother was enjoying holding all the cards. It put her – not Peggy – at the centre of the drama.

  ‘She can stay,’ Grace said at last, though her tone was grudging. ‘We’ll face it as a family, but don’t let her think for one moment that I condone what she’s done. She’s brought shame to my house and I’ll never forgive her for that. And she’s to stay out of my sight. She can stay in her bedroom or the front room. You – or one of the others – can take her meals to her. I don’t want to set eyes on her.’

  Mary was thoughtful for a moment. Her mother had softened thus far, maybe as time went on . . . She could only hope.

  When she relayed Grace’s words to Peggy, the girl shed more tears, partly at the harshness of her grandmother’s ultimatum, but partly too with relief. At least she would have a roof over her head and food to eat, even though her life shut away between the cold front room and her bedroom would be lonely.

  ‘I’ll spend as much time with you as I can,’ Mary promised. ‘And perhaps Rose will come round in time.’

  ‘Pigs might fly,’ Peggy murmured
and tried to force a smile through her tears. She mopped her face, straightened her back and added, ‘But at least I can carry on at work until I begin to show. No one need know until then.’

  ‘Are you well enough? I mean, this morning sickness . . .’

  ‘It’s only first thing. Usually by the time I get to work, it’s gone off. A piece of dry toast in a morning seems to help.’ She smiled wryly. ‘At least Myrtle can have my butter ration.’

  Mary smiled and patted her hand. ‘Get to bed now. You need the rest.’

  Peggy grasped her mother’s hand, her voice husky. ‘Thanks, Mam. I—’

  ‘Don’t say any more, darling. We’ll get through this together.’

  Mary’s hopes that Rose would ‘come round’ were not fulfilled. Rose sided wholeheartedly with her grandmother and refused to speak to Peggy. She wouldn’t even carry meals up the stairs or into the front room for her sister.

  ‘I’ll do it, Mam,’ Myrtle said, holding out her hands to take the tray from Mary. ‘You’ve got enough to do without running up and downstairs after her.’

  Mary raised her eyebrows but said nothing as she handed the tray over. The young girl was intrigued by her sister’s pregnancy. She wanted to know everything about it. ‘I’m doing biology,’ she said to explain her curiosity. ‘It’s useful.’

  ‘Just so long as you don’t go telling everyone at school that your sister’s pregnant,’ Rose warned on one of the rare occasions she even referred to Peggy’s condition.

  The following Wednesday, a letter arrived from Bob and Rose’s face was wreathed in smiles once more. ‘He’s applying for leave. He might be home just after Christmas. Oh, I can’t wait.’

  And this time, Mary guessed, Rose would lose no time in telling Bob all about Peggy.

  ‘Well, there’s no doubt about it now. We’ll win the war.’ Grace announced triumphantly early in December, when most folk in the city were dreading the first anniversary of their own particular blitz.

  ‘I never doubted it,’ Myrtle said, carefully spreading butter thinly on her toast. Even she’d learnt to use their rations sparingly now. ‘Not for a moment, but what’s making you say it now?’ Grace was actually smiling as she stared at the headlines in the previous day’s late edition of the Daily Mail.