The Clippie Girls

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The Clippie Girls Page 22

by Margaret Dickinson

‘Of course, dear.’

  When they were seated in the kitchen, Rose said, ‘I suppose he told you about Peggy? About him proposing to her?’

  ‘Yes, he did and I told him he’d been a fool. He went off early this morning in such a foul mood.’ Hester’s eyes filled with easy tears. ‘He hardly said goodbye.’

  ‘What time was his train due to leave?’

  Hester glanced at the clock. ‘About now.’

  Rose jumped up. ‘I’ll go to the station. If the train’s late leaving – and they often are these days – I might just catch him.’

  She rushed from the house and ran up the road to catch the nearest bus or tram to the centre of town. Then she ran to the station she knew Bob was leaving from and hurried onto the platform. A train was just pulling out. She pushed her way through the throng towards it, searching the carriage windows lined with soldiers’ faces, waving goodbye to those still standing on the platform.

  ‘Stop, stop the train!’ But she knew it was hopeless. It was already gathering speed and disappearing up the line.

  As the crowd started to disperse and leave the station, Rose stood on the edge of the platform, tears streaming down her face.

  ‘Did you miss the train, lass?’ a porter asked. ‘There’s another one in an hour.’

  Rose shook her head. ‘No,’ she said shakily. ‘I missed seeing someone off.’

  ‘Aw, then I’m sorry. Train were late leavin’ anyway.’

  She turned away and walked slowly to the exit and up the road, back towards Mrs Deeton’s home.

  ‘Did you catch him?’ was Hester’s first question. Sadly Rose shook her head. ‘The train was just pulling out of the station when I got there.’

  ‘Oh, love, I’m sorry. Come on in and I’ll make us a cuppa – or are you rushing off to work?’

  ‘No, I’m not on duty until two.’

  When the tea was made, they sat on either side of the table.

  ‘I still can’t understand why Bob proposed to Peggy.’ Hester shook her head in bewilderment.

  ‘Because he’s still in love with her and he wanted to help her – to make an honest woman of her.’

  ‘No – no, you’re wrong there, Rose. I don’t think he is in love with Peggy any more. When he got home last night – and I’m sorry to say it, but he was a little the worse for drink – he said he thought he’d just done something stupid. I thought he’d been in a fight or something, but then he told me.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve always known my son was soft-hearted, but I never thought he was soft in the head, an’ all.’ She paused before asking gently, ‘What about you?’

  ‘He’s hurt me dreadfully by this. I really thought he was getting over Peggy and – well – that given time we might . . .’

  Hester reached across the table and touched Rose’s hand. ‘If it’s any consolation, Rose dear, he said he’d become very close to you and that was why he thought he’d acted impetuously without thinking it all through first. Still, at least Peggy had the sense to refuse him.’

  Hester couldn’t help feeling relieved. She’d always feared that her son would make some girl pregnant and would have to marry her. She’d done her best to bring him up properly, but she realized that times were very different now. Young men going off to war and thinking they might never come back had their needs. They didn’t want to die never having known what it was like to make love to a girl.

  ‘Rose, you’re a dear girl and I’m so sorry you’ve been hurt.’

  ‘I’m not giving up on him just yet – not completely.’ Rose raised her head and met Hester’s worried eyes. ‘You see, I’ve loved him for so long, even when he was going about with Peggy, but of course I’d never have done anything about it. Not then. I’d never have tried to steal my sister’s boyfriend – ’ she smiled wryly – ‘even if I could have done.’

  ‘What a complicated mess, but maybe it’ll all come right after all.’

  ‘I’ll write to him and when he comes home again—’

  ‘Oh, my dear, didn’t you know? Didn’t he tell you? This leave was what they call an embarkation leave. When he gets back to camp, he’s being posted. He didn’t know where to, but it could be abroad.’

  ‘Peggy – is there something you want to tell me, lass?’

  Laurence Bower met her as she stepped carefully off the tram platform at the end of her shift about a month after Bob’s surprising proposal. During the weeks since he’d gone, life at home had been even more unbearable than before. She kept to her bedroom or the front room but, because of the winter weather, she’d spent most of her time huddled in her bed, with just the hot-water bottles her mother brought up to her. She hardly saw any other member of the family. Even Myrtle seemed to be avoiding her now. Evidently her younger sister had collected all the knowledge she needed for her biology project, Peggy thought wryly. Rose, she learned from Mary, was writing to Bob every week, just as before, but now there were no replies. Just as there was still no word from Terry.

  ‘Who told you?’ Peggy asked the inspector flatly. ‘My dear sister, I suppose.’

  ‘No one’s told me anything, lass. I can see it with me own eyes. Me and the wife had two sons.’

  Peggy blinked. ‘I didn’t know you had any family.’

  Laurence smiled wryly. ‘No, well, I tend to keep my private life just that. Private.’

  ‘Are they – I mean – do they live with you?’

  ‘They’re both in the forces. John – the older – is in the RAF and Matthew’s in the Royal Navy. He doesn’t get home much and I never know where he is from one week to the next. He’s not allowed to tell me, of course, but he gives me a hint now and again.’ Laurence chuckled, though Peggy could now see the ever-present worry deep in his eyes. ‘In his last letter he said it was bitterly cold, so I’m guessing they’re somewhere near Iceland.’

  ‘And your other son?’ Peggy prompted.

  Now Laurence sighed deeply. ‘John’s a fighter pilot. He gets home occasionally on what he calls a “flying” visit. Pardon the pun!’

  There was silence between them until Laurence said softly, ‘So, you see, I do know what’s what. A few weeks back you were white and sickly every morning and now – ’ he nodded towards her waist – ‘if I’m not mistaken, that skirt’s getting a bit tight on you.’

  ‘So – I’ve to leave, have I?’

  ‘I don’t want to lose you, but it’s not the sort of job to be doing when you’re carrying a bairn, lass. I’m thinking of you and your baby.’

  ‘And the reputation of the company too.’

  ‘Oh, sod the company,’ Mr Bower said with surprising alacrity. ‘They’ll neither know nor care – the big bosses, I mean. Only, if you was to have an accident or if we get another bombing incident—’

  Peggy smiled ruefully. ‘That was what started all the trouble.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘The first night of the blitz when my tram got hit. That was when I met Terry.’

  Laurence blinked. ‘Oh! Then – then your bairn’s not Bob Deeton’s?’

  ‘No, Mr Bower, it isn’t. And if that’s what folks are going to think when the gossip gets around – and get around it’s going to – I’d be grateful if you’d quash any rumours that it’s Bob’s.’

  ‘Oh – well – of course, if that’s what you want, lass.’

  ‘I don’t want Bob blamed for something that’s not his fault.’

  ‘No – of course not. I see that.’

  She sighed. ‘And you’re right. I’d better hand in my notice. If you’ve suspected my condition already, then it’s not going to be long before others start asking questions and I don’t want it to get to that.’ Though what, she thought, I’m going to do at home all day, I don’t know. I’ll be climbing the walls before long.

  But Mary had other ideas. The morning after Peggy had come home from her last shift, Mary opened the bottom drawer of her dressing table and presented Peggy with knitting needles, several balls of white wool and knitting patterns for first-siz
e baby clothes. ‘I’ve set up my sewing machine in the front room on the table. I’ll get you some bits of material off the market. You should be able to make some tiny clothes for next to nothing. Thank goodness I’ve taught you all to sew and knit, even though Myrtle turned up her nose at having to learn something practical.’ She shook her head thoughtfully. ‘I just wonder if we’ve done the right thing about her, you know. Filling her head with ideas of going to university. What if she doesn’t pass her exams well enough? What’s going to happen then?’

  ‘I don’t think you’ve any worry there. She’s cleverer than me and Rose put together. There you are, see. Is “cleverer” a proper word?’

  ‘Don’t ask me.’ Mary smiled. ‘I’m only good at looking after people, especially little babies. And now I’m going to be a granny.’

  ‘You sound as if you’re looking forward to it.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘But you didn’t want it, did you? Any more than I did.’

  Mary sat down on the bed and took Peggy’s hands. ‘It was a shock at first, I admit, but I never want to hear you say you don’t want your child. Every child should be a wanted child, no matter how they come into the world.’

  Tears filled Peggy’s eyes. ‘But it’s not that straightforward, is it? Maybe I should have accepted Bob’s offer. My child is going to have a dreadful life being branded a – a bastard.’

  ‘Peggy! Don’t use that word. It’s horrible.’

  ‘But that’s what it’s going to be. That’s the name it’s going to get called.’

  ‘Not in this house,’ Mary said with asperity. ‘Not in my hearing, anyway.’

  Peggy smiled wryly. ‘Not even by Gran?’

  Mary was adamant. ‘Not even by your grandmother.’

  Rose received no letters from Bob, but at least she could visit his mother, who was hearing from him regularly.

  ‘Does he mention me?’ Rose asked hopefully, but was always disappointed when Hester shook her head. ‘I have got the right address for him, haven’t I? Perhaps my letters are getting lost.’ But when she checked the address against the one Hester was also writing to, it was correct. ‘Then it’s obvious,’ she said sadly, ‘he doesn’t want to hear from me.’

  ‘Wait till he comes home on leave,’ Hester tried to comfort her. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to sort it all out then.’

  Rose glanced at Hester, but said nothing. But the words were in her mind: what if he doesn’t come back? And even if he did, it could be months before she saw him again.

  ‘Has he definitely gone abroad? Do you know?’ Rose studied the address to which they both sent their letters. Hester shrugged. ‘There’s no way of telling when you just write care of something. I haven’t got a clue what all those capital letters mean. I expect they forward them on.’

  ‘How long do his letters take to get here?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Does Bob put a date on when he writes them?’

  ‘Oh, I see. You mean if they take a long time, then maybe he is abroad.’

  Together they studied the date on the last letter Hester had received from her son.

  ‘I don’t think that’s come from overseas,’ Rose said.

  ‘Then maybe he’s still here in this country and if so, he might get home on leave. We can always hope.’

  But Rose hadn’t much hope left to cling to.

  Mary kept Peggy busy. The girl did what housework she could. She cleaned the front room and the bedrooms – even Grace’s when she was safely out of the way shopping.

  ‘I’ve joined the library,’ Mary said one evening when she arrived home with an armful of books, ‘so you’ve no excuse to be bored. Oh, how lovely,’ she exclaimed, as she dropped the books on to the table in the front room and picked up the tiny white baby jacket Peggy had just finished knitting. ‘Doesn’t it look tiny?’ She glanced at Peggy’s increasing girth. ‘I hope it’ll still fit when he arrives.’ Just recently Mary had begun to refer to the baby as ‘he’.

  ‘You’re sure it’s going to be a boy then?’

  ‘Of course it is. There are enough women in this house already.’

  Peggy sighed. ‘Whatever it is, they won’t want to know it.’

  Mary changed the subject quickly. ‘Mr Bower was asking after you today.’

  ‘That was nice of him. Did you ask him how his sons are?’

  Peggy had told Mary about Laurence’s family.

  ‘I didn’t like to. He’s never mentioned it to me. He’s a very private man, isn’t he? I didn’t want him to think we’d been gossiping about him.’ Mary was disappointed that Laurence hadn’t confided in her. After all, he’d listened with such patience to her woes more than once and she’d thought they were growing close.

  ‘Is there – is there much gossip at the depot about me?’

  Mary shrugged. ‘Well, if there is, I don’t hear it.’ She glanced out of the window. ‘I’ll get the tea and then we’ll go for a little walk. You must keep getting some fresh air and exercise. It’s been so cold for most of the month, but it’s April next week. It should be getting warmer soon.’

  ‘We’ll go when it’s dark, Mam. I don’t want the neighbours staring. I’m getting so big now even a loose coat doesn’t hide my bump any more.’

  ‘They’ll know soon enough, Peggy. You can’t keep the baby locked away in here forever.’

  ‘If only I could hear from Terry.’

  ‘Have you been to see his friend again?’

  Peggy shook her head. ‘I can’t see the point. I don’t want to put Billy in an awkward position. He’s a good friend to Terry.’ Perhaps, she thought, if he hadn’t been such a good friend in letting Terry and Peggy meet at his house, she might not be in this predicament now.

  ‘Don’t you think you ought to tell Terry’s family?’

  ‘No!’ Peggy was adamant. ‘If he’d wanted to keep in touch with me, he’d have written.’

  Mary frowned but said no more. She believed that Terry’s family had a right to know about the child, even if they decided they didn’t want anything to do with it. Perhaps, when he was born, Peggy might feel differently.

  Thirty-Three

  ‘Your Peggy ill, is she?’ Letty came through the back door holding a cup of sugar she’d borrowed earlier in the week.

  ‘Credit where it’s due,’ Grace had remarked to Mary. ‘She never used to be good at returning what she’d “borrowed”, but since rationing started she does. I’ll say that for her.’

  Grace turned from the sink where she was peeling potatoes. She gave Letty one of her glares, took the sugar and turned away without answering.

  Nonplussed, Letty went on. ‘Only Tom ran into your Mary and Peg out for a walk last night in the blackout. Funny time to be taking a walk, we thought. It’s still cold at night, even though it’s meant to be spring. And in the dark too.’ There was an even longer silence before Letty added, ‘I haven’t seen ’er going to work lately either. I mean, I know she does shift work, but I usually see ’em coming or going. I’ve seen t’others, but not Peg, so I wondered . . .’

  I bet you did, Grace thought sourly. She was tempted to turn round and give the woman the rough edge of her tongue, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t deny the truth and she couldn’t hide it forever. It would all come out soon enough. Maybe it would be better to tell their loquacious neighbour and get it over with. But her innate longing for privacy still held Grace back from confiding in Letty. With a sigh she said at last, ‘She’s not been well. She’ll be better soon, but being a clippie is not the sort of job you can do if you’re under the weather.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Letty said, disappointed that that appeared to be all Grace was prepared to tell her. Letty had the shrewd suspicion that there was a lot more to Peggy’s mysterious illness than Grace was letting on. ‘Well, I hope she’s soon feeling better.’

  ‘She will be,’ Grace said shortly. In about a couple of months’ time, she added silently, and then no doubt you’ll all know the truth. />
  Another pause, as if she was waiting for more, but when nothing further was forthcoming, Letty sighed and said, ‘I’m just off into town. D’you want owt?’

  ‘That’s kind of you to offer,’ Grace said, deliberately softening her tone. She didn’t want to fall out with her neighbours. You never knew when you might need their help, she told herself, though she was dreading the time when Letty would gleefully spread the gossip about that uppity Mrs Booth’s family. It was bound to happen: Letty Bradshaw would not miss such a golden opportunity. ‘But I’ll have to go myself later. I can’t expect you to do all the shopping for a family this size.’ Soon to be one more, she thought regretfully. Skilfully, she turned the conversation to Letty’s own family. ‘By the way, how’re yours lads in the forces? Have you heard lately?’

  Letty’s face crumpled and suddenly Grace realized that maybe, just now, the woman’s interest in her neighbours’ affairs had as much to do with taking her mind off her own worries as with being a notorious gossipmonger. ‘We’ve heard from Walter and Bertie last week, but there’s been nothing from Simon. I’m worried sick, Mrs Booth.’

  ‘It must be difficult for them to send off letters when they’re at sea for weeks on end. I’m sure you’ll hear soon.’ Grace didn’t add ‘one way or the other’, though she was thinking it.

  Mary enjoyed her work as a clippie, nearly as much as Rose did. She loved the banter with the passengers – even the grumpy ones. The cold weather didn’t bother her and she’d always been quick at mental arithmetic.

  ‘You’re a natural,’ Laurence told her when he joined her one day in the canteen and sat down opposite her. Ignoring the amused glances of the canteen staff, he lowered his voice to ask, ‘How’s Peggy?’

  ‘Surprisingly well, considering she’s shut up in either the cold front room or in her bedroom,’ Mary said dryly, with a sudden need to have someone of her own age to confide in. Even in the crowded household, Mary sometimes felt very lonely.

  Laurence raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? Is that her choice?’

  Mary pressed her lips together as sudden tears threatened. Seeing her distress, Laurence said, ‘Oh, Mary – my dear.’

 

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