The Clippie Girls

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘So his sister and that other girl were probably telling the truth when they said they hadn’t heard anything from him,’ Rose said. ‘They didn’t even know if he – if he was all right.’

  ‘These days,’ Charlie said, ‘no news is good news, as they say. You did know they’re abroad, him and Billy?’

  Both girls shook their heads.

  ‘Oh aye, been gone just over a year. North Africa, they’ve been, though they’re not together. Billy said in his last letter that he hadn’t seen or heard anything of Terry. It was worrying him, I could tell. And of course they can’t get back to England on leave, probably not until the Company they’re in is shipped home. At least, that’s what I’ve heard said.’ He paused and bit his lip, deliberating whether to tell these girls any more. He didn’t know who they were. He only had their word for it that it was the truth they were telling. He decided to take the risk. ‘There is just one thing that perhaps you ought to know. The other girl you saw that day, it was likely Sylvia Thomas from next door. She and Amy Price are best friends. And – ’ he paused and took a deep breath before adding – ‘there’s always been a sort of understanding between the families that one day Terry and Sylvia might – well, you know what I’m saying.’

  ‘Yes, we do,’ Rose said bitterly. ‘It’s just a pity our Peggy didn’t know that before she agreed to go out with him.’

  ‘Like I say, maybe it’s more to do with what the families’d like rather than . . .’ His voice petered away, but then he added more strongly, ‘Terry’s not a bad lad. I don’t reckon he’d lead a girl on if he wasn’t truly fond of her.’

  ‘I hope it was a whole lot more than “fond” of Peggy, Mr Parkin,’ Rose said firmly. ‘Our sister fell hook, line and sinker for him. She hurt a really nice lad to take up with Terry Price and she’d never have let him – well, you know – if she hadn’t been in love with him. She’s not that sort of girl. None of us are.’

  Charlie gazed at her, seeing the bright spots of colour in her cheeks, the glitter of battle in her eyes. She was a feisty one and he admired that way she was sticking up for her sister – the way they both were. Slowly he nodded. ‘I believe you, lass. I believe you.’

  ‘He seemed to believe us, but did you reckon he was telling us the truth?’ Myrtle asked as they walked home. There was a note of scepticism in her tone.

  ‘What? About Terry not being able to read or write? Yes, I think I did. There was a girl in my class at school and she used to get into such trouble. The teachers called her idle, lazy – you name it, they called her it. And all the other kids used to laugh at her, but I tried to help her. I felt sorry for her. She used to say all the letters got jumbled up. She could manage to read a bit. Signposts and short sentences, but when it came to reading long paragraphs she just got lost. Maybe it was like that for Terry.’

  ‘And what about this Sylvia?’

  ‘If it’s true, then that would explain why those two girls were so – so frosty.’

  ‘But do you think they are engaged? That he was just having a fling with our Peggy?’

  ‘I don’t know, Myrtle, any more than you do.’ Rose was becoming impatient now. ‘How could I? Come on, let’s get home.’

  ‘But what are we going to tell Peggy?’

  ‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing.’

  ‘Not even about him not being able to write, because that explains—’

  ‘It explains nothing. Even if he can’t write himself, if he’d wanted to be in touch with her he’d have got someone to do it for him.’

  ‘Maybe he’s too proud to ask anyone else now Billy’s not with him. I know I’d be mortified if I couldn’t read or write. I wouldn’t want anyone to know. For once, I sympathize with Terry.’ Myrtle, whose whole life until now had been immersed in studying, couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  ‘You could be right, but I still don’t think we should tell Peggy. It might raise her hopes. She’s getting on nicely now. We don’t want to upset her again.’

  ‘What about Mam and Gran? Do we say anything to them?’

  ‘Not at the moment. We’ll just see what else we can find out.’

  ‘But how?’

  To that Rose had no answer.

  As Charlie Parkin closed the door after his departing visitors, he was thoughtful. He was friendly with both the Prices and the Thomases. Harry and Percy were his drinking buddies, but now he was faced with a dilemma. Did they know about this lass that Terry had got into trouble? He didn’t know if he should say anything to them. Harry Price had never said a word, but then perhaps he wouldn’t. Charlie mulled over the problem for the rest of the day and by the time he went to bed that night, he’d decided to wait until he wrote to Billy again. He’d tell his son what had happened. Billy would know what to do for the best.

  But as Charlie slept soundly that night, a telegram was already being drafted to arrive at his house early the next morning with the worst possible news. The loss of his only son would drive all thoughts of Peggy and her baby out of Charlie Parkin’s mind for weeks to come.

  Fifty

  Peggy was indeed much better. Now she took on most of the housework, though Grace still liked to do the cooking.

  ‘I’m not taking to my chair with a rug over my knees quite yet,’ she said tartly.

  But she was willing to pass on her cookery skills to her granddaughter. ‘Your mam never had the time to learn. Always had to be out earning money for all of us.’ She sniffed, thinking about her son-in-law. She was not one to speak ill of the dead and it was obvious he had been poorly, but she sometimes questioned silently whether if he’d stirred himself a bit and not sunk into self-pity he could have found work back at the bank. Her own husband would have helped him, she knew. Ted had been content to sit by the fire, being the wounded war veteran and letting others take care of everything, but he hadn’t been too badly wounded to bring three daughters into the world, Grace thought sourly.

  ‘You’re getting quite a dab hand at pastry,’ Grace told Peggy and the young woman turned pink with pleasure. Her grandmother didn’t hand out compliments very often and praise from her was rare.

  They were all able to sit down together to the evening meal, but just before Peggy was ready to serve, Mary said hesitantly, ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve asked Mr Bower to tea with us. I – I should have mentioned it before, but . . . Is there enough to go round?’

  ‘I’ve made a meat and potato pie, Mam. If we all have a slightly smaller piece, it’ll stretch.’

  Grace muttered something under her breath that Mary took to be disapproval. ‘It’s all right,’ she said hastily. ‘We’ll go out.’

  ‘There’s no need to do that,’ Rose said quickly. ‘We all like Mr Bower, he’s been good to this family. If it hadn’t been for him . . .’ She said no more but they all knew what she meant. If it hadn’t been for Mr Bower’s alertness, they might never have found Freddie. Alice could have taken him to her sister-in-law’s and they’d never have seen him again. ‘And besides, after what you told us about his son being missing, the poor man probably needs a bit of company.’

  But even Grace was smiling when, on his arrival, Laurence handed over his weekly ration of meat. ‘I’m not much of a cook,’ he said. ‘It’d be better in your hands.’

  ‘Then you must come for tea again, Mr Bower,’ Grace said graciously, almost pouncing on the parcel. She and Peggy were clever with the cooking and never wasted so much as a scrap of food, but with a household of five mouths and a baby to feed, rations sometimes didn’t stretch to cover a full week.

  As he sat down, Laurence glanced around the table, his gaze coming to rest on Mary sitting next to him. ‘I’ve had some very good news. Matthew is safe. There were several survivors from his ship and they were all picked up.’

  There were cries of joy from all the family and beneath the table Mary squeezed his hand.

  After the meal Myrtle volunteered to help Peggy wash up. Mary and Laurence decided to go to the cinema, and Rose, th
ey could all see, was itching to visit Bob.

  He opened the door to her himself. ‘Mam’s next door playing whist. We’ve the place to ourselves.’

  As he led the way into the front room, she noticed that he wasn’t limping so much. ‘Is your leg getting better?’ she asked as she removed her coat and sat down on the sofa. She waited for the answer with mixed feelings.

  Bob sighed. ‘Yes, it is and I’ve had a letter telling me to report for a medical check next week.’ He looked at her with soulful eyes. ‘They’ll send me back, Rose, if they think I’m fit enough.’

  Rose felt a stab of fear run through her. ‘Then you’ll have to limp more.’

  He grinned ruefully. ‘It’s no good trying to shirk it, love. If they spotted I was malingering, the penalties are severe and – not very nice.’

  ‘Oh. So you’d sooner go back to the front to be shot at, would you?’

  A dark shadow crossed his eyes and Rose regretted her hasty retort. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just want you here at home – safe.’

  ‘It’s what everyone wants, Rose, but it can’t be, not until we’ve won.’

  ‘And are we going to win?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Don’t you ever doubt it for a minute.’

  And strangely Rose didn’t. Whilst there were men like her Bob – and yes, she could call him her Bob now – she didn’t have any doubt that eventually the war would be won. The only worry was – how many would lose their lives in the process?

  The following week Bob came back from his medical inspection with a glum face. ‘I’ve to report back for duty on Monday,’ he said. ‘Fancy, only a week to go to Christmas and I have to go back.’

  Rose nodded. She’d been expecting the news. ‘Will they send you abroad straight away?’

  ‘Not sure,’ Bob said. ‘I’ve tried to keep up with the news in the papers, but—’. He pulled a wry face. ‘It’s very different when you’re involved. There’s a lot that’s top secret that’s never going to reach the press.’

  ‘Don’t tell Gran that,’ Rose laughed. ‘She thinks the newspapers are gospel.’

  ‘Can you come round for your tea on Sunday night? Mam’s going to church and then she’ll go to Ada’s – her friend next door.’

  ‘Not to play whist on a Sunday,’ Rose said, pretending to be shocked.

  ‘No – no. They sit and listen to Vera Lynn. So, will you come?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  After tea, when they’d done the washing up and Mrs Deeton had hurried off to church, Bob turned the lights off in the front room and they settled on the sofa in front of the fire. The soft, flickering light gave the room a warm, cosy glow and the war seemed very far away. And yet they couldn’t forget it for long. In only twelve hours’ time Bob would be on his way back to camp and to the war.

  ‘We didn’t ought to be using your mam’s precious coal,’ Rose murmured, feeling drowsy and content with Bob snuggled close, his arms wrapped around her.

  Bob kissed her, his hands caressed her and she felt her love for him overflow. At last Bob loved her and she’d make him forget Peggy.

  ‘Rose – please – I might never come back,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘You say you love me, then show me. Let me make love to you.’ His fingers trembled as he tried to undo the buttons on her blouse. ‘Please, Rose.’

  Rose stiffened and drew back, staring into his eyes reproachfully. In the firelight they were dark with longing. ‘You know I love you, Bob. I loved you even when you had eyes for no one but Peggy . . .’

  ‘That was a mistake. It’s you I love.’

  ‘Then if you do, you should respect my feelings, respect me.’

  He drew away and slumped in the corner of the sofa, covering his face with his hands. ‘I’m not good enough for you. Just a tram driver turned squaddie. You deserve someone better.’

  She pulled his hands away and made him look at her. ‘Now you’re being an idiot. It’s just that I don’t want to end up like Peggy. Giving herself to a soldier and then him disappearing and her left with a kid and having to bear all the gossip and the disapproving looks.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper as, ashamed of her actions now, she added, ‘Even from her own sisters.’

  ‘But I promise I’d be careful.’

  ‘I bet that’s what he said. But he wasn’t, was he? Left her pregnant and then went off to war without another word. Besides – ’ Rose bit her lip, torn between wanting to love him, wanting to give herself to him and the silent vow she’d made – ‘I want to keep myself for my wedding night. I only want to go to bed with one man in my life – my husband.’

  He stared at her. ‘That’s emotional blackmail. Holding out on me so that I’ll marry you.’

  She gasped, appalled that he could say such a thing – could even think it.

  ‘Bob, that’s a cruel thing to say.’

  He groaned and covered his face with his hands again. ‘I’m sorry – I’m sorry, Rose. But I’m so bloody scared. If only I hadn’t been so stupid – rushing to join up like that – I could have remained a motorman. I needn’t have gone at all and now – I don’t want to go back.’

  ‘Then don’t.’

  This time he dropped his hands himself. ‘Don’t be daft. I’d be arrested for desertion. My mam’d never bear the shame. They shot lads in the last war for that, you know.’

  ‘But not now. You wouldn’t be shot.’

  ‘No, but I’d be slung in jail and branded a coward. Is that the sort of man you’d want to marry?’

  Rose bit her lip. If she was honest, no, it wasn’t. The men at work, who were of the right age for war service, were having to stand all sorts of snide remarks and innuendoes even though they were employed in a legitimately reserved occupation. She could see now that there was no way out, no alternative: Bob had to go back.

  But still she couldn’t bring herself to give way to him. The image of Peggy’s expanding girth when she’d been expecting Freddie, the way most of her own family had – for a time – turned their back on her and the way she hadn’t been able to venture out, to live a normal life, made Rose stand firm. ‘I’m sorry, Bob. I want you more than you could realize, but I – can’t.’

  ‘Then let’s get married – right away.’

  ‘But you said just now—’

  ‘Never mind what I said just now. Please, Rose, marry me. I want to think there’s someone waiting for me. And I want to – to know what’s it’s like to – you know.’

  In the half-light Rose blushed, but she snuggled closer, sure now that he wouldn’t misinterpret her loving action. ‘You do understand, don’t you?’

  He sighed heavily. ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’ There was silence between them before he said, ‘So, Rose Sylvester, will you marry me? Please.’

  ‘Yes, Bob Deeton, I will.’

  They hugged each other and kissed and whilst passion flared between them once more, now he made no effort to go further than Rose wanted.

  ‘When I get back tomorrow, I’ll see my commanding officer and ask for compassionate leave to get married. Lads are doing it all the time and with me just back from sick leave, I don’t reckon they’ll send me straight back abroad. And in the meantime you apply for a special licence and, when you let me know that you’ve got it, we’ll set a date.’

  ‘Oh, Bob. Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?’

  ‘Of course I do, and Mam’ll be thrilled. She really likes you better than—’

  Rose put her finger over his lips and whispered, ‘We’re not going to talk about that ever again. From this moment on she’s your sister-in-law, nothing more. Got it?’

  Bob grinned and some of the fear and foreboding left his face. ‘Got it,’ he promised and kissed her again.

  Fifty-One

  To Rose’s disappointment, the whole family was in bed by the time she arrived home; even Myrtle was snoring softly when she crept into the bedroom. She’d hoped to make her startling announcement at once, but now it wo
uld have to wait until tomorrow. But at breakfast everyone would be rushing to get to work or to feed a hungry baby. No one would have time to listen to Rose’s plans. The girl lay awake through the night, torn with mixed emotions. Had she really, as he’d said, blackmailed Bob into proposing to her? Had she been wrong to hold out against him? Should she have given way to him? Let him make love to her before he went to war again? She tossed and turned through the night, first berating herself for being such a prude, and then realizing that, no, she’d been right. What if she’d given in and Bob had been sent abroad the minute he returned to duty? They’d not have had time to marry – still might not have – and she might have been left in just the same predicament as Peggy. No, no, she argued with herself, she’d been right. And yet for the very first time she knew why Peggy had given way to her handsome soldier. She’d seen for herself the adoration they’d had for each other in their eyes. And now she knew how that passion could be overwhelming, making the strongest person lose their way.

  Peggy’s tragedy was not that she’d given herself to Terry, or even that she’d had Freddie, it was that Terry had disappeared without a trace, leaving her desolate and alone. At last Rose turned onto her side, her mind at peace now, knowing that, at least for her, she’d been right. At last she slept.

  They’d decided that Rose wouldn’t go to the station to see Bob off. He’d laughed ruefully as he’d said, ‘I really might not go then. Besides, you have to get to work.’

  With great forbearance, Rose decided to keep her secret to herself until the evening, but her moment was spoilt by Mrs Deeton, who in great excitement had come round to the house as soon as Bob had left. By the time she arrived Mary and Rose had already left for work and Myrtle had gone to the city library.