The East End Girl in Blue

by Fenella J Miller

  She wouldn’t be in here if Mrs Denny was around. His wife must be dead and he’d not had the heart to get rid of her things. She wasn’t comfortable in here any more and she certainly wasn’t going to sleep there.

  Rushing about made her feel dizzy so she lay on the bed until things were back to normal. When her kitbag turned up, she’d wait for a bus and make her way back to Hornchurch.

  Tommy wouldn’t want her to shirk her duty just because he was gone. When she’d gone for a walk earlier she’d not been wearing her hat. She couldn’t go back without it or she’d be put on a charge.

  Might as well go and fetch her things for herself. It was after three o’clock and she reckoned there might not be a bus to take her to the nearest town after four. She was halfway down the stairs when she went all peculiar again. She clung on to the banister. If she fell head first she might break her bleeding neck.

  5

  Nancy’s hands lost their grip on the banister and with a despairing cry she fell down the stairs. The doctor caught her before she hit the floor at the bottom.

  ‘You’re making a habit of this, young lady. What on earth are you doing up?’

  She wanted to tell him but her mouth was full of cotton wool and the words wouldn’t come.

  ‘You need to stay in bed until you’re feeling better.’ He carried her up the stairs like a parcel and headed for the room she’d just escaped from.

  ‘No, no, not there.’

  He stopped at the door. ‘I’m sorry, I should have realised you wouldn’t want to be in my dead wife’s room. I’ve got two others – are you feeling up to making a selection?’

  Her head had cleared a little and her tongue were no longer stuck to the roof of her mouth. ‘Any other room, ta ever so.’

  ‘This one’s closer to the bathroom but the bed’s not made up. I’ll put you on top of the bedspread.’

  He stepped back and looked at her thoughtfully then picked up a chair and brought it over. He sat, a yard away, his arms folded, staring at her through narrowed eyes. Then he leaned over and raised her left hand – saw the wedding ring and nodded.

  ‘How long ago did you have intercourse with your fiancé? Have you missed your period?’

  He was so matter-of-fact, no disapproval or judgement in his expression that she answered truthfully. ‘It should have come more than a week ago. We went together two weeks before he died as we wouldn’t be able to do it on our wedding night. Am I in the family way? I thought you couldn’t get pregnant the first time.’

  He smiled and it made him look younger, almost handsome. ‘I’m afraid that’s not true, Miss Evans. Fainting is not uncommon in the first trimester although it’s unusual so early in a pregnancy.’

  She closed her eyes, letting the information sink in. Tommy was gone, but she had a part of him inside her. She wasn’t alone any more – she’d got a little one to think about.

  ‘I ain’t ashamed; I’m happy to be expecting. Are you sure that’s what’s making me so wobbly?’

  ‘As sure as I can be. However, it can’t be confirmed until you’re further along. Are you normally regular?’

  ‘Like clockwork. Four weeks exactly every month since I was eleven years old. I can’t stay in the WAAF once they know – but I don’t reckon I’ll show for a few months yet.’

  ‘What exactly do you do in the catering department?’

  ‘I clean one day and cook the next. I make the sandwiches and tea and take it in the van to the pilots waiting at dispersal to be scrambled.’

  ‘Then I’m sorry but I can’t allow you to return to duty, Miss Evans. You would be a liability to yourself and to the service at the moment.’

  ‘Then will you write me medical note and I’ll post it to them?’

  ‘Where will you go? Do you have family you can stay with?’

  ‘I do. I’ll tell them I was married before Tommy died. They won’t know no difference, will they?’

  He pointed to her ring. ‘Have you been wearing that since you slept together?’ She nodded. ‘I’m surprised nobody mentioned it. What would your married name have been?’

  ‘Smith – from now on I’m going to be Nancy Smith, like what I told you before. I’ll not have no one picking on me little one for being a bastard.’

  ‘Good for you. I don’t want you to leave until I’m sure you’re not going to pass out and fall under a bus or tram. I’ll explain things to the Stantons.’

  ‘Blimey, I’d not thought of that. How long will this fainting last?’

  ‘It depends. In my experience both nausea and dizziness dissipate in the second trimester – around four months.’

  ‘I ain’t staying here until then, that’s for sure. I’m no one’s charity case. I’ll take me chances.’

  ‘If you want me to write you a medical certificate so you can be discharged from the WAAF then will you agree to remain here until I consider that you’re well enough to go?’

  ‘I don’t need no note from you, Doctor Denny. I’ll report back and the medic there can tell me what’s what.’

  ‘How are you intending to get back to Hornchurch?’

  ‘I’ll catch the bleedin’ bus. I’m just waiting for me stuff to come and then I’ll be off. I’m ever so grateful but I can take care of meself.’

  ‘When you feel well enough I can arrange for you to get a lift to Chelmsford. From there you can catch the train to Romford. Hornchurch base is only a couple of miles from there.’

  She was going to refuse but reconsidered. ‘Righty ho. The vicar spoke to them so they won’t be expecting me back any particular day.’

  ‘Good girl, a wise decision. Do you feel at all dizzy?’

  ‘No, tickety-boo, ta very much.’

  ‘Excellent. I’m going to take my dog, Polly, for a walk. Do you want to come with me?’

  The noise of bombers flying overhead and the sound of dogfights interrupted their conversation. They might be out in the middle of nowhere, nothing but trees and grass and such, but you couldn’t get away from the fighting in the skies. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Going back to the base was going to be so difficult. She dreaded seeing the sympathetic faces, the knowing looks, and decided right then that she would ask the doctor to write to her CO and get her discharged immediately. She frowned. Why couldn’t she make up her mind? She was like a bleedin’ windmill at the moment.

  ‘No, ta, I’ll stop here. Need to have a bit of a think about things. Knowing I’m having Tommy’s baby makes things a bit better, but I still can’t believe he’s gone. He should have been safe not being aircrew – it ain’t fair.’ Her eyes filled and she sniffed and rummaged in her pocket for a hanky.

  ‘There’s nothing fair about death. It’s indiscriminate.’ He whistled to his dog and walked off without another word. He was a grumpy old sod but had a kind heart and seemed like a good doctor. He was taller than Tommy and broader in the shoulder and she wasn’t that keen on a bloke who was a head taller than her.

  She didn’t like sitting about doing nothing so she’d go in search of sheets and pillow slips and get the bed made up in the room she was going to use.

  *

  David wasn’t sure having Nancy staying was a good idea, although he wasn’t going to change his mind and send her back to the vicarage. Having a young girl under his roof unchaperoned would cause a lot of speculation. Too bad – he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. He was his own man and always had been.

  When his wife, Julia, had finally got pregnant after many years of trying they’d both been delighted. She was considered an elderly primigravida being twenty-nine but she was healthy and neither of them anticipated any problems. How wrong they’d been. Everything had been fine until she was in her third trimester and then things had gone disastrously wrong. She’d gone into premature labour. He’d driven her to hospital like a madman but, on her arrival, she’d haemorrhaged and both his unborn child and his wife had died.

  He should have realised things were going awry. He was a
doctor for God’s sake; she shouldn’t have died like that. If he had taken her to hospital sooner… if… if.

  He scowled and slashed at the nettles along the path with the lead, making his dog bark in surprise. Julia had died three years ago and he still blamed himself. This was one reason the bedroom they’d shared had been left unchanged. He’d got rid of the baby things – he couldn’t bear to have them in the house – but he still wandered into the room upstairs occasionally and looked through her possessions.

  This unwanted guest had brought home to him that it was macabre and unhealthy not to have given away her things. There was a war on and rationing meant that everything was in short supply. Better that these garments were worn by someone who needed them than left mouldering in the wardrobe and chest of drawers.

  On his return he could hear Ava yelling. The sound carried through an open bedroom window. The wretched girl had only been under his roof for a few hours and was already causing chaos. He tossed the lead onto the table and took the stairs two at a time.

  ‘You’ve no right to interfere, miss. Who do you think you are to come in here and make up a bed as if you owned the place?’

  ‘I were only helping out. No need to take on. You fetched me things, seemed only right to do this for you. I ain’t an invalid. I just lost the man I loved and it’s knocked me sideways.’

  ‘I don’t care who you lost…’

  ‘Enough, Ava. I could hear you in the garden and I expect most of the village could. Nancy should be thanked for helping. You’re out of order. I suggest you go downstairs and get on with your work.’

  The woman pursed her lips, seemed to swell. Bright spots of red appeared on her cheeks. ‘I won’t stay here and be spoken to like a servant. I’ve looked after you since Mrs Denny died. She’d be turning in her grave to think you’ve got a floozy under your roof.’ She glared at Nancy. ‘I know your sort – where you come from all girls are the same.’

  ‘Your employment here is terminated. Get out.’ She took one look at his face and didn’t argue. She scampered down the stairs and he heard the back door slam behind her.

  ‘Blimey, that were something else. You didn’t have to sack her on my account. I’ve been called worse in me time.’

  His anger passed as quickly as it had come. ‘I’m so sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. Don’t look so concerned, Nancy. I’m actually relieved that I’ve got rid of her. She was very efficient but an inveterate gossip and ignored anything I asked her to do if she didn’t want to do it.’

  ‘You ain’t got the time to look after the house as well as do your doctoring. The least I can do is take over until I leave. Remember, that’s me trade – catering and cleaning.’

  ‘Then, thank you, I accept your offer. However, I don’t think you should act as my housekeeper wearing your uniform. It doesn’t seem appropriate somehow.’

  ‘Well I jolly well ain’t wearing anything in that room. I’ll put a pinny on over me things. That Ava’s twice me size so I reckon it’ll wrap around me nice.’

  She wasn’t wearing her uniform jacket – that was hanging neatly over the back of a chair. Her kitbag was leaning drunkenly against the wall.

  ‘Surgery starts in half an hour. Are you sure you feel up to making our evening meal?’

  ‘Bleedin’ hell, Doc, cooking for two ain’t nothing after what I’ve been doing.’

  How was he going to say this without offending her? ‘Look, Nancy, I’m not comfortable with you swearing. Do you think you could stick to blooming and blimey in future?’

  She grinned. ‘I’ll do me best. Jane Stanton, one of me best friends, is always saying the same. I wish I could talk proper – I ain’t stupid you know but every time I open me mouth people think I am. I can’t read good either.’

  ‘Then in return for your help in the house I’ll help you with your reading and so on. How’s that for a deal?’

  ‘Sounds tickety-boo to me. I’m not stopping long but every little helps, don’t it? I ain’t too clever with writing neither – I don’t suppose you could help me with that as well? I hated school and only went when I had to.’

  ‘First lesson – try to say I’m not instead of I ain’t.’

  ‘Righty ho. I’ll get me stuff stowed away and then get started. I ain’t… I’m not going to unpack everything. It don’t seem worth it.’

  ‘That’s up to you. I think Ava got some liver for supper. It will be in the meat safe in the pantry.’

  ‘I love a bit of liver. I’ll do onion gravy and mash to go with it.’

  Whilst he was changing his shirt and finding a tie and jacket he was beginning to have second thoughts about this new arrangement. His ex-housekeeper would no doubt be spreading venomous gossip already. He didn’t care for his own reputation but Nancy didn’t deserve to be vilified. Maybe it would be better if she did return to the vicarage, but then he would have to make his own meals, tidy the house and do the laundry.

  Good God! Washing his underpants was one thing he wasn’t going to let Nancy do for him. There wasn’t time to speak to the vicar’s wife, but he’d ring her after surgery and see if she knew of anyone in the village who would be happy to take on the job of doing his domestic chores and cooking for him. Nancy seemed determined to leave but he’d no intention of letting her go until he was sure she wasn’t going to pass out under a passing trolleybus.

  *

  Nancy was able to push her misery aside whilst she was busy in the kitchen and around the house for the rest of the day. The dog, Polly, had taken a shine to her and was constantly under her feet. Twice she’d had to sit down when her head spun but she hadn’t fainted again.

  The surgery was in a separate annexe with a door what led from the house into it. The patients what attended went round the front and straight in so she never saw how many came. David – he’d insisted she use his name – said he’d be done by seven o’clock.

  There were a dining room and she wasn’t sure if she were supposed to lay up for him in there. Seemed daft to do that so she found a pretty floral tablecloth and shoved it on the kitchen table instead. She wasn’t his real housekeeper, more a guest like, so decided she’d eat with him.

  She’d fed the dog with the scraps plus some spuds and a dollop of gravy without the onions. Polly had gulped it down wagging her tail whilst she ate.

  ‘Something smells tasty. It seems a long time since I had that sandwich.’ David came in having removed his jacket and tie. He looked ever so smart even with his shirt open at the neck.

  ‘I weren’t sure…’

  ‘I wasn’t sure…’

  ‘Blimey, you’ve got your work cut out if you hope to make me sound like someone posh.’ She put his plate on the table in front of him. ‘I wasn’t sure if you preferred to eat in the dining room.’

  ‘No, in the kitchen with you.’ He waited until she’d served herself and sat down opposite before he picked up his cutlery. ‘My heart sunk when Ava said she was going to get liver for supper – I don’t like it as a rule but this is quite delicious. Is that an apple crumble I see lurking on the dresser?’

  ‘It is. Do you want your tea now or after?’

  ‘Afterwards. You don’t have to wait on me – you’re not my employee but a guest helping out.’

  She ate a few mouthfuls but then her throat closed up and she couldn’t force any more down. She should be sitting with Tommy eating supper, not with this stranger. She pushed the food around her plate for a bit hoping he wouldn’t notice she wasn’t eating.

  ‘Leave it, Nancy. Polly will be happy to finish it for you. You’ve had something and hopefully you’ll eat a little of the dessert as well. Have you had any more dizzy spells this afternoon?’

  ‘I… I haven’t, not really. Had to sit down twice, that’s all.’

  ‘Excellent, don’t stand up too quickly, don’t rush about and you’ll be fine.’ He put down his knife and fork with a satisfied sigh and then immediately stood up before she could move. ‘I’ll clear; you stay wher
e you are.’

  He scraped her food into the dog’s bowl, including the onion gravy, but Polly didn’t mind and ate it with as much enthusiasm as before. He then dished up the afters, added some evaporated milk, and brought it to the table.

  ‘Very small portion for you; eat what you can. Please don’t comment on the size of mine – crumble is my weakness.’

  After doing the washing-up she made the tea and arranged it on a tray with cups and saucers, sugar and everything. He’d gone off to the sitting room. She wasn’t going to sit with him. That wouldn’t be right. Anyway, she wasn’t up to socialising.

  ‘I’m going to bed, David. What time do you want breakfast ready?’

  ‘Whenever you like. Don’t get up especially for me as you need to rest. I only have toast and tea anyway. Morning surgery is at nine o’clock and is usually over by midday.’

  ‘Okay then, I’ll say good night and ta for taking me in like this.’

  He was already engrossed in his paper when she left. She’d been all right until she went to bed then grief overwhelmed her. The constant sound of bombers and fighters overhead was too much for her. It reminded her of what had happened.

  She cried into her pillow until it was soaked. Eventually she fell asleep, but not for long. She woke in the middle of the night, her heart racing, not sure where she was. For a second she forgot why she was there but then she remembered Tommy was dead, that she’d never see him again and she didn’t think she’d be able to go on without him.

  She curled up in a ball, biting her lip to stop her sobs being heard in the quiet house. She wasn’t quiet enough as unexpectedly he was sitting beside her on the bed.

  ‘You’ll make yourself ill, Nancy, crying like this. Take a deep breath through your nose and then breathe out slowly.’

  At first she couldn’t do it but then slowly she regained control.

  ‘There, that’s better. Here, drink this. It will make you feel better.’

  A glass was pressed against her lips and she took a swallow – it was medicine of some sort but didn’t taste too bad.