The Clippie Girls

by Margaret Dickinson

  Only Grace, washing up in the kitchen, and Peggy, feeding Freddie, were at home.

  ‘Isn’t it exciting news?’ Mrs Deeton said, as she sat down by the range and pulled off her gloves.

  ‘Is it?’ Grace said, as she came in from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. ‘What’s happened? Is the war over?’

  ‘Sadly, no,’ said Mrs Deeton, her smile fading for a moment as she relived the parting with her son only an hour or so ago. ‘No – about Bob and Rose, I mean.’

  ‘Oh, that!’ Grace said and sat down with a sigh.

  ‘Aren’t you thrilled? A wartime wedding! It’ll help lift everybody’s spirits.’

  ‘What!’ Grace exclaimed and Peggy looked up, inadvertently pulling the bottle out of Freddie’s mouth and making him whimper. With a hand that shook slightly, she placed the bottle on the table, put the baby over her shoulder and patted his back. Freddie burped obligingly, happily oblivious to the tension in the room.

  ‘What on earth are you talking about, Mrs Deeton?’ Grace snapped.

  ‘They’re getting married. Bob asked her last night and he’s going to see his commanding officer when he gets back and—’ the woman babbled on, revealing all the young couple’s plans before Rose had had a chance to tell her family.

  ‘I see,’ Grace said grimly. ‘She might have told us herself.’

  ‘She hasn’t had a moment, Gran,’ Peggy put in softly. She turned and smiled at Hester. ‘She was late in last night and it’s chaos here every morning when they’re all getting ready to leave. I expect she’s planning to tell us tonight.’

  ‘Oh dear, I am sorry. I’ve spoilt the surprise.’

  ‘Well, we’re delighted for them both,’ Peggy smiled and added pointedly, ‘Aren’t we, Gran?’

  Grace shot her a look and murmured, ‘If you say so.’

  For a moment Hester looked perplexed, seeming to remember suddenly that it had once been the girl sitting here with a baby against her shoulder whom her son had been so keen to marry. Hester’s face turned pink with embarrassment and tears filled her eyes. ‘I was so excited – so sure she’d have told you. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You’re not to worry. In fact, we could make out we don’t know, couldn’t we, Gran? Act all surprised when she tells us. And Freddie won’t tell her, will you, my pet?’ Peggy brought him down from her shoulder and settled him in her lap.

  The child gurgled happily in response and beamed at Hester.

  ‘Oh, if you could, I would be grateful. It’s only right that she should be the one to tell you all.’

  ‘And we won’t say a word to Mam or Myrtle, so the surprise will be genuine for them, won’t it, Gran?’

  ‘If you say so, Peggy,’ was all Grace said again.

  It was all Peggy could do to keep Grace from blurting out the news their early morning visitor had brought. As they all sat round the tea table, she was almost holding her breath and willing her sister to make the announcement so that she could breathe easily. But Rose, it seemed was in no hurry; she was waiting for the right moment.

  ‘No Mr Bower to tea tonight?’ Rose asked impertinently, her eyes twinkling.

  Mary blushed. ‘We’re just good friends, Rose, so don’t you go reading more into his visits than there is.’

  ‘No sound of wedding bells then?’ Rose persisted.

  ‘Certainly not,’ Mary said sharply, but the colour in her face deepened.

  ‘Well,’ Rose said quietly, ‘that’s where you’re wrong because there are going to be wedding bells.’

  They all stared at her. Only Grace kept her head down and continued to eat her tea, ignoring the conversation going on about her head. Peggy, keeping up the pretence, asked, ‘What on earth are you talking about, our Rose? You don’t mean that Mr Bower is getting married, do you?’ She glanced surreptitiously and saw, to her amusement, that the colour had now drained quickly from Mary’s face as she stared at Rose.

  ‘Don’t be daft. He’s only got eyes for our mam. No, it’s me and Bob. He asked me last night and I said yes.’ She hurried on, telling them all of the plans they’d made.

  ‘Rushed, that’s what it’ll be. Folk’ll think you’re in the family way,’ Grace muttered and cast Peggy a hard look.

  ‘Well, they’ll know different when there’s no baby in a few months’ time, won’t they?’ Rose snapped. ‘I thought you’d be pleased for me.’

  ‘We are.’ Peggy touched Rose’s hand. ‘You’re perfect for each other. And no, that’s not what folk’ll think because there’s dozens of couples getting wed before their menfolk have to go away. I hope it works out and Bob gets the leave. Now we’ll have to think what you can wear as a wedding dress.’

  ‘I’m not going mad. We want to get married in church, though – Mrs Deeton’s a big churchgoer, you know.’

  ‘What about bridesmaids and the best man?’ Peggy asked. She’d given up hope now that Terry would ever come back and she knew her own hopes of marriage were pretty thin. Who would want to take on a woman with a child – and a child born out of wedlock at that? Besides, sadly, very soon there would be a shortage of young men and many a girl would be left an old maid. And so Peggy determined to help her sister have the best wedding that they could afford and that could be got ready in time.

  ‘I’m to see the vicar and do all that’s needed to get a special licence, Bob said, and then write and let him know.’

  ‘Will they give him leave?’

  ‘He’s sure so.’

  ‘That’s if they haven’t sent him abroad again before you can get it all organized,’ Grace said, sounding a note of caution to the building excitement. ‘But I’ve no doubt his mam’ll be pleased,’ she murmured and avoided meeting Peggy’s warning look. But she didn’t give the game away that she and Peggy already knew.

  It was Myrtle who had the last word. ‘I’ll be bridesmaid and Freddie must be a little page boy. He’ll look so sweet.’

  Fifty-Two

  Christmas was almost overshadowed by the talk of wedding plans, which dominated the conversation now. They spent the day quietly.

  ‘1942’s nearly over and still there’s no end to the war in sight,’ Grace commented.

  ‘Forget about the war just for a day, Mother. And then we’ve the wedding to look forward to. Life has to go on.’

  Laurence and Hester joined the family, but this year, sadly, the Bradshaws felt unable to celebrate.

  ‘Letty ought to make an effort for the two young ’uns,’ Grace said. ‘Still, it’s not my business.’ But Mary noticed that, sitting on their sideboards, were two unusually large gifts wrapped in last year’s Christmas paper and labelled to Sidney and Jimmy.

  The arrangements for Rose’s wedding were made swiftly and surprisingly smoothly.

  ‘Well, I’m certainly not short of things that are “borrowed”,’ Rose laughed. ‘Bob will be in his army uniform, of course, but I didn’t fancy getting married dressed as a clippie, so Louise from work is lending me her wedding dress and her veil. It’s from just before the war and it fits perfectly – surprisingly.’

  ‘You’ve lost weight since the war started, Rose,’ Peggy teased her. ‘You’ll soon weigh less than me. By the way, I’ll give you clothing coupons for a wedding present. You could get some white shoes and dye them afterwards in a more serviceable colour.’ Nothing these days could be wasted. Peggy chuckled as she added, ‘And you won’t get away from the trams altogether. Some of the girls are planning to meet you outside the church and make an archway of ticket machines.’

  Rose laughed. She didn’t mind what anyone did as long as Bob turned up on the day.

  ‘Letty is insisting she’ll make the wedding cake.’ Grace pulled a face. ‘Though what it’ll taste like, I daren’t think.’

  ‘Let her do it, Gran,’ Rose said. ‘It might help take her mind off things.’

  ‘And Laurence is seeing a friend of his, who’s a greengrocer. Flowers are in short supply, but he reckons he can make you a little posy.’
r />   ‘What about me?’ Myrtle piped up. ‘I need a dress and a bouquet.’

  ‘I’ve got length of blue satin material upstairs,’ Grace murmured. ‘I bought it in a sale just before the war.’ She glanced at Mary. ‘You can have that for Myrtle.’

  ‘Thank you, Mother. I’ll sort out a pattern and get sewing.’

  ‘Folks are being very kind,’ Grace said, unable to keep the surprise from her tone. ‘One or two of the neighbours have already brought tins of fruit round.’

  ‘What are we doing about a wedding breakfast?’

  ‘Ham and potatoes and whatever vegetables we can get.’ She glanced at Rose. ‘You might have waited until summer, instead of February, then we could have had a nice salad.’

  ‘Sorry, Gran,’ Rose said cheerfully.

  ‘What about pudding?’ Myrtle, who always seemed to be hungry these days, asked.

  ‘Tinned fruit and blancmange.’

  ‘And cake. Don’t forget Letty’s cake.’

  ‘As if we could,’ Grace muttered.

  But Letty’s cake, when she brought it round in the evening before the wedding, was a triumph. ‘It’s not very big, Mary, but Mrs Booth said there wouldn’t be many guests.’

  ‘Oh, Letty, it’s wonderful. However did you manage to make a fruit cake with all the rationing?’

  ‘Begged and borrowed – but I didn’t steal.’ Letty smiled. It was the first time she’d felt like smiling again since they’d had the dreadful news about Walter. But life had to go on, Tom had told her. Despite the empty, hollow feeling in her stomach, Letty was doing her best. Concentrating on making Rose’s wedding cake had certainly helped. ‘The neighbours have been really good giving me fruit and sugar and eggs. Real eggs came from Mr Bower’s brother. Did you know?’

  Mary blushed a little to think that Laurence had been doing so much, even behind the scenes.

  Saturday, 13 February 1943, dawned bright and amazingly warm for the time of year.

  ‘Are you superstitious about the thirteenth?’ Myrtle asked, as she helped secure Rose’s veil.

  ‘Not a bit.’ Rose laughed. ‘Though I might have hesitated if today had been a Friday. There, how do I look?’

  ‘Surprisingly pretty,’ Myrtle said, but she was laughing as she said it.

  ‘Thanks, Myrtle. I can always rely on you to be scrupulously honest.’ In truth, she was flattered by her younger sister’s remark. Myrtle always told the truth.

  The service was held in the church Hester attended regularly. The Booth family were not regular churchgoers and Rose had known it would mean a great deal to her future mother-in-law if her son was married there. Afterwards all the guests travelled back to Grace’s home. The front room had been opened up and a warm fire burned in the grate. The ‘best’ gate-legged table had been opened up and, with the table from the living room put next to it, everyone could just fit in. A long, white tablecloth covered the two tables, set with china and glassware borrowed from Letty and Laurence. Every piece of furniture had been polished until it shone, though there was no hiding the tell-tale sooty marks on the wallpaper, nor the absence of Grace’s china cabinet and its contents.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized to all their guests, ‘but Hitler smashed my best china tea set. I’d’ve used it today for Rose but – it wasn’t to be.’

  Rose was the picture of happiness and Bob looked proud and happy. There was a moment’s awkwardness when he and Peggy came face to face outside the church, but she smiled and kissed his cheek, greeting him with the words, ‘Hello – brother-in-law.’ She’d taken the sting out of the moment and neatly reminded him of their new relationship.

  ‘And how are you enjoying being a nurse, Myrtle?’ Laurence asked the girl sitting next to him at the table.

  When she turned to him, her eyes were shining. ‘It’s wonderful, Mr Bower. It’ll be quite some time before I am a proper nurse, but I know I’m going to love it.’

  ‘I thought I might have had another member of your family as a clippie.’ Laurence laughed. ‘But I’m really pleased you’ve found your vocation, for that’s what it is.’

  ‘I know,’ Myrtle said seriously. ‘I was a bit worried that Mam and the others would be disappointed that I haven’t gone to university.’

  ‘They’re very proud of you, my dear, no matter what you choose to do.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Bower.’ Myrtle beamed at him.

  Bob and Rose left in a flurry of good wishes. They travelled the short distance from the city into the Derbyshire Dales, where they had a blissful three days’ holiday. Then it was time for Bob to return to camp.

  ‘Do you know for definite what’s happening?’ Rose shivered, as she clung to him on the draughty railway station platform.

  Bob shook his head. ‘I may not be sent abroad yet, love, especially as I’m only just back from a long sick leave.’

  ‘I understand why you’ve had to go back – really I do. But just limp a bit now and again.’

  ‘Actually, I do get a bit of pain in my leg occasionally.’

  ‘Then mind you tell the medical officer.’

  ‘I’ll see. I don’t want to be thought a shirker.’

  ‘No one will think that. Oh no, there’s the whistle.’ She kissed him hard on the mouth and hugged him tight.

  ‘Rose – darling – I must go.’ He prised himself free, picked up his kitbag and ran for the train, climbing aboard just as the doors were slammed and then it began to move. He leaned out of the window waving. Rose stood with all the other people on the platform waving goodbye, her hand on her mouth, which still stung from the ardour of his kisses.

  ‘That’s the first time he’s ever called me “darling”,’ she whispered.

  Fifty-Three

  ‘Are you going to live with Mrs Deeton then?’ Grace asked when Rose returned home, trying hard to stem the flow of tears. She was missing him already and, with no idea of when she might see him again, the days ahead looked bleak. She comforted herself with the knowledge that at least she’d get letters from him. That was more than Peggy ever got.

  Rose blinked and glanced at Grace. ‘Eh?’

  ‘I thought you’d be setting up home with Mrs Deeton now you’re married. There’s no room for the two of you here.’

  ‘I – hadn’t really thought about it.’

  ‘Aye – I guessed as much. “Marry in haste . . .”,’ Grace said sagely, but for once had the tact not to repeat the rest of the saying.

  Rose bit her lip. ‘D’you want me to go? Make more room for you all?’

  Grace narrowed her eyes as she looked at her. ‘Not until he comes home for good. Then you’ll need to get a place of your own or live with his mother.’

  Rose nodded. ‘Of course, Gran, but – but I don’t want to live with her just now. I – I couldn’t bear to leave you all.’

  ‘Don’t you mean Freddie?’

  ‘We-ell . . .’ Rose’s eyes twinkled as, for the first time since parting from Bob, the thought of her nephew made her smile.

  Grace grunted. ‘Looks like we’re stuck with you then.’

  With a sudden impulse Rose kissed the old lady’s wrinkled cheek.

  ‘Oh, get away with you, you soft ’aporth,’ Grace said, but Rose could see she was touched by her granddaughter’s gesture.

  ‘But I will see his mam often, just to make sure she’s not too lonely and worrying too much about him. She’s a real worrier.’

  Aren’t we all just now? Grace thought, but said nothing.

  To emphasize her gratitude, Rose said, ‘You sit still tonight, Gran. I’ll get the tea.’

  She was just finished peeling the potatoes when she heard the front door slam and hasty footsteps in the hallway. Rose frowned, dried her hands and went through into the kitchen just as Myrtle burst in from the door to the hallway. Still panting from running home, she gasped, ‘Where’s Peggy?’

  ‘Taking Freddie for a walk in the pram. Why, what-ever’s the matter?’

  ‘Is Mam home?’
/>   ‘Not yet, no.’

  ‘For Heaven’s sake sit down, girl, and catch your breath,’ Grace said and repeated Rose’s question. ‘What’s happened? Have you killed off half your patients?’

  Myrtle sank into the chair opposite her grandmother. ‘I’ve seen him.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Terry Price.’

  Rose and Grace gaped at her.

  ‘Are you sure it was him?’ Rose said, finding her voice.

  Myrtle nodded. ‘He didn’t see me. He was on the other side of the road.’

  ‘Was he with anyone?’ Grace asked sharply.

  ‘Yes.’ She glanced at Rose as if seeking permission.

  ‘It’s all right. You can tell Gran. We’ll decide together what’s to be done.’

  ‘It was Mr Parkin. He was walking along the road with Mr Parkin.’

  ‘Who’s Mr Parkin when he’s at home?’

  ‘Gran – we’ve been trying to do a bit of snooping.’ Rose sat down at the table. ‘We went to Terry’s home, but there were two girls there. We think one was his sister and the other, the girl who lives next door. Well, they were very unfriendly and unhelpful. They said they had no idea where he was – that he could be dead, for all they knew.’

  ‘But one of them let slip about a mate of his called Billy, who lived in the same street as them.’ Myrtle took up the story. ‘So later on we went to see him.’

  ‘And?’

  Rose and Myrtle exchanged a glance before explaining to Grace how they’d found out the reason why Terry hadn’t been writing to Peggy.

  ‘That may be it,’ Grace mused aloud. ‘But you’d’ve thought he’d’ve got someone else to do it for him.’

  ‘Didn’t want folks to find out, I expect. Billy was the one who’d always helped him, but he’s not with him now.’

  ‘Mm.’ Grace was thoughtful. ‘Then I think,’ she said slowly, ‘that you’d better go and find Mr Terry Price as soon as you can. But not a word to Peggy, mind, unless there’s some good news. She’s just coming to terms with the thought that he’s deserted her and she’s beginning to look to the future. I don’t want to get her hopes up for nothing. It could set her back to square one again.’