The East End Girl in Blue

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘I’ll sit with you until you go to sleep.’

  When she opened her eyes next the sun was up. She didn’t want to get out of bed but she’d a job to do and she wasn’t a shirker. Tommy would be proud of her. She’d learn how to read and write properly for him and for the baby he’d given her. She didn’t want him or her to be ashamed of her.

  Getting up slowly meant she didn’t feel dizzy; could stand safely. She collected her toilet bag and towel and put her ear to the door. Not a sound. No clock in the room so she didn’t know the time but guessed it was still early.

  The dog greeted her with small yelps of excitement, turning in circles around her feet. ‘Blimey, it’s only six o’clock. Shall we go for a walk, Polly? I could do with some fresh air.’

  She unhooked the lead but didn’t clip it to the dog’s collar. David hadn’t put it on so she reckoned it would be safe not to use it. The air was damp and cool, a bit of a nip to it. Autumn was on its way.

  David’s house had a large garden and everywhere she looked there were flowers and such. The dog dashed ahead of her towards a hen coop and the vegetable garden. The birds clucked and fussed when they went past, obviously hoping to be let out.

  Polly stopped at a gate at the end of the path and Nancy opened it. It led into a narrow track with trees on either side. The dog ran off following a scent of some animal or other. She followed more slowly enjoying the peace and trying not to think about Tommy. David had said too much crying was bad for her so from now on she’d try not to break down.

  Another dog, a mastiff of some sort, burst through the undergrowth. It headed straight for her, teeth bared, and ears flat.

  6

  David heard Nancy go out with the dog and decided he’d get up as well. The window overlooked the garden and he watched her stop and smell the roses and for some reason this pleased him. She was an East End girl. Gardens didn’t feature there, but she obviously enjoyed being in the country.

  He fetched four large suitcases from the attic and gritted his teeth. Today was the day he was going to clear the room of Julia’s belongings. He would keep the jewellery; he might one day marry again and everything he’d given her had come from various family members so it made sense to hang on to it.

  It took less time than he’d expected to clear the wardrobe, dressing table and chest of drawers. He fastened the suitcases and hefted them downstairs and left them by the front door. Mrs Stanton would know who to give them to.

  He checked his watch and was concerned that Nancy had been gone for more than an hour. He decided to go in search of her in case she’d fainted again. As he approached the back gate leading into the woods that ran along the back of his garden he could hear her talking to someone.

  ‘I better get back; the doctor will think I’ve got lost. I a… I’m not a country girl. I thought this old boy was coming to attack me.’

  ‘Not Jasper – he’s as soft as butter. I’m glad I got to meet you, Mrs Smith. I can put a few people straight about things.’

  He recognised the other speaker as Joan Butler, the landlady of the local pub.

  ‘I can’t believe anyone would think there might be something going on between us. Even if I wasn’t grieving for my poor Tommy, I wouldn’t be interested in a man old enough to be my pa.’

  He backed away hastily, not sure if he was upset or relieved by what he’d overheard. Good God – he couldn’t be more than a dozen years older than Nancy so she must think he was in his late forties, not his early thirties.

  Polly came in first wagging her tail and Nancy followed. ‘Sorry I were… was so long, David. I met a nice lady – Joan something or other – and we had a good old chinwag. You wouldn’t believe what your old housekeeper has been saying about us.’

  ‘I can guess. I’m sure you put Joan straight. If you don’t mind making the tea and toast, I’ve got to phone the vicarage.’

  She nodded, her smile slipping a little. ‘I understand. You want me to move back there to stop the gossip.’

  ‘I certainly don’t. I’m hoping Mrs Stanton might have someone in mind to replace Ava. I’ve also got several suitcases of clothes and so on for her to distribute to the needy.’

  ‘Fair enough. Before you start your surgery, David, would you please write my medical note and send it to Hornchurch?’ She was talking in a slightly stilted way, obviously trying to avoid misusing words.

  ‘I’ll do it immediately I’ve finished my telephone call. It will get easier you know. Good for you.’

  The telephone sat on a small hexagonal table in the hall so he could answer it in the middle of the night if necessary. There was also an extension in his surgery, which his receptionist answered for him when she was there. As the two were connected he was certain Ava used to eavesdrop from the one in the hall.

  Nancy’s arrival had prompted him to sack Ava – something he should have done years ago – and clear out Julia’s room, also something he should have done a long time ago.

  The vicar’s wife answered the telephone as she always did even when her husband was in the house. ‘Good morning, Mrs Stanton. I’ve got three suitcases of clothes and other personal items for you to collect at some point.’

  ‘Not before time, if you don’t mind me saying so, Doctor Denny. Jim, our gardener, is taking several boxes of things into Romford later today so he’ll call for them before he leaves, if that’s all right?’

  ‘Excellent. You’ve probably already heard on the village grapevine that I’m in need of a new daily. Do you know of anyone who might be interested who will be a better fit than the previous one?’

  ‘Mrs Arbuckle would be ideal. Her children are old enough to take care of themselves when they’re not at school.’

  ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of her myself. I’ll go round and see her later, thank you.’ He paused, waiting to see if she would mention anything about Nancy but she didn’t. His temporary guest was a close friend of their family, which meant it was unlikely they would believe any of the nonsense Ava was spreading. ‘By the way, it’s Mrs Nancy Smith, not Nancy Evans.’

  ‘I understand perfectly. I’ll refer to her as Mrs Smith in future.’

  He sat at his desk and unscrewed the cap of his fountain pen. It didn’t take him long to write a brief letter to the doctor in charge of the hospital wing at Hornchurch. He included a medical certificate, signed both, blotted them and was about to fold them and push them into the envelope when he remembered that she would be known by her rank and number, not her name. There was ample room beneath the address for him to print that when he knew it.

  The sound of singing echoed down the passageway. She had a lovely voice and he was impressed by her resilience. He hadn’t even smiled for months after Julia died and yet Nancy was able to sing and not let her grief interfere with her duty. She would be a loss to the RAF and if she’d been able to stay no doubt would have been promoted, but her lack of education precluded her ever becoming an officer.

  He tapped his pen on his teeth. An annoying habit, so his wife had told him, that she’d insisted he eradicate. He hadn’t done it for years. What sort of future did Nancy have without a husband to support her, no income, and a baby due next May?

  The house rattled as wave after wave of German bombers flew overhead hotly pursued by Spitfires and Hurricanes. If the RAF was destroyed then the war would be lost and in a few weeks there would be jackbooted Nazis marching down the streets of London. God help them all if that happened.

  Everyone in Chalfont Major had been preparing for a possible invasion and there were stocks of tinned food being stored at the vicarage, in back gardens and in the church. The wells that hadn’t been used since mains water was connected a few years ago were fully functioning just in case the pipes got broken. He hoped the day that Germans marched through England never came.

  *

  Nancy stopped singing, shocked that she was doing so just two weeks after Tommy had died. She should be sitting in a heap in a corner, not rushing abo
ut some bloke’s kitchen making his breakfast as if nothing had happened. She was devastated, but moping about wouldn’t do her any good and Tommy wouldn’t want her to, not with a baby on the way.

  East End women were a tough lot – they had to be as there was rarely enough housekeeping to make ends meet. She’d burnt her boats by asking David to get her dismissed as unfit for service. She had a few pounds in her post office savings book but it wouldn’t last long. If she’d really been married to Tommy then she’d get a widow’s pension. It wouldn’t have been much but it would have been better than nothing.

  She’d go home for a bit and find a job somewhere until she was showing. It wouldn’t matter if anyone knew she was in the family way as they’d all think she was married. What about when it came to registering the baby? She’d have to show her wedding lines then. Pa would throw her out, baby and all, when he found out. He wouldn’t hold with “little bastards” of any sort even if they were his own grandchild.

  Her eyes filled and swallowing was difficult. She sniffed, straightened her shoulders and started singing again. She was doing her best but her voice wobbled, stopped and her head dropped. She gripped on to the handles on the Aga trying to regain control.

  ‘Sit down, my dear. However hard you try to push it aside grief will sometimes crush you. Pretending nothing’s happened is as bad as wallowing in your misery for years.’

  His hands were firm on her shoulders and she was guided to a chair and gently pressed onto it. A clean, ironed handkerchief was pushed between her fingers and she held it to her face. Her shoulders shook and his hands remained resting on them until she was able to stop crying. Only then did he move away and she watched as he made the tea and then put pieces of bread on the toasting forks and held them in front of the open range.

  She blew her nose, drank half the tea he’d put in front of her and began to feel more in control. ‘Why ain’t… haven’t you got one of them posh gas cookers? Ever so much easier than that old thing.’

  ‘I really don’t know. My wife wanted it and as I had nothing to do with the domestic side of things, I made no objection. Dammit! The toast’s burning.’

  ‘Here, let me. I’m a dab hand at toast.’

  Having something to do made it easier not to think how different her life would have been if Tommy had still been alive. What was the future facing her and her unborn baby?

  ‘I need your rank and number and then the letter’s ready to go.’

  She told him and watched him writing with admiration. ‘You’ve got lovely handwriting, David. Ever so clear and neat.’

  ‘Having this pen helps. I defy anybody to write badly using one of these.’ He passed it across the table and she looked at it with interest.

  ‘I’ve seen them but never held one. Real clever having the ink inside so you don’t have to keep dipping and dripping all over the shop.’

  He licked the envelope and stuck it down. The telephone rang shrilly in the hall. ‘Excuse me, I have to answer that. Here, if you go after breakfast then you’ll catch the first post. The post office is in the High Street about half a mile from here.’

  He was back almost immediately. ‘Complications with a delivery. Jill Andrews will be here in half an hour. Will you tell her to cancel as many of this morning’s appointments as she can?’

  Then he was gone, his big black medical bag swinging from one hand. She’d expected to hear a car start but she didn’t. She hurried to the front room and saw him pedalling a battered lady’s bike with the bag stuck in the basket at the front of the bicycle.

  What would she do if the telephone rang again? Should she answer it or would that give the wrong impression to whoever were on the other line?

  Mrs Andrews was fierce and reminded her of a schoolmistress. She was tall, posh-looking but quite pretty for an older lady. Nancy expected to be sneered at, looked down on, but the reverse was true.

  ‘My dear Mrs Smith, I’m so sorry for your loss. To have been married only one day and then lose your beloved husband. It doesn’t bear thinking of.’

  ‘Ta, kind of you to say so. The doctor’s rushed off to a complicated delivery. He never told me where he was going but I suppose you know. He said for you to cancel his morning appointments.’

  ‘I’ll try and do that but most people don’t have a telephone. I’d love a cup of tea if you’re making another one soon.’

  ‘I’ve got to nip down to the post office first but I’ll do it when I get back.’

  Polly appeared at her feet, somehow knowing she was going out. Nancy swore the dog was looking at the lead and back again as if telling her to pick it up. It was hard to be sad with a dog bouncing around. ‘I think I’d better put you on the lead, don’t you? Can’t have you running off in the street.’

  Nancy flinched every time an aircraft flew overhead, however high it was. When she’d been living on base they’d not bothered her. Her Tommy hadn’t even been bombed, or machine-gunned; he’d been killed by a piece of exploding Spitfire whilst trying to save a pilot’s life. It just wasn’t fair.

  There were several cyclists, a few folk on foot and a horse and cart, but no motor vehicles at all. She was so lost in her own thoughts and didn’t notice if anyone was giving her sideways glances. She didn’t care if they were – she’d not be here much longer.

  She didn’t have to go in as the envelope had a stamp so just shoved the letter in the post box and began the return journey. She almost collided with two ladies.

  ‘I beg your pardon, I wasn’t looking where I was going,’ she said with a polite smile.

  ‘I expect you’re too busy planning how to ensnare the doctor to notice other pedestrians,’ the older of the two – the ma, as she was a matching pair to the other one – said with a sneer.

  ‘I’ve not got time for your nonsense, madam; kindly let me go by.’

  If looks could kill then the one she was getting from the younger one would have finished her off. ‘Doctor Denny is too kind to tell you to leave. You’re a disgrace, trying to get your claws on him when your own husband’s only been dead a couple of weeks.’

  Nancy’s hand tightened on the lead and Polly growled. That hadn’t been her intention but it did the trick. Suddenly there was room for her to walk through between them and the dog didn’t stop snarling until they were well away from the nasty pair.

  She hurried around to the back door and into the kitchen, not wanting to cry outside. She remembered what David had said and took several deep breaths. After a bit she was all right again. How dare they mention Tommy’s name like that? They must be friends of that nasty bitch, Ava.

  The dog was sitting patiently by her feet waiting to have the lead taken off. ‘Good girl, you soon saw them off, didn’t you?’

  The phone rang twice whilst she was preparing a tray for Mrs Andrews. She wasn’t sure if she should make sandwiches and wrap them in greaseproof paper and put them in the larder for when David came home or wait and do it when he arrived.

  The letter needed to get there first and then she’d leave on the bus. She didn’t want to put the doctor to the bother of finding her a lift. After what happened when she was out she wasn’t sure if she should stay another night.

  She was going to do bubble and squeak with fried eggs for tea and then he could finish up last night’s apple crumble for afters. He’d said he didn’t want her to do any housework but if she didn’t go around with a duster, the carpet sweeper and such then it wouldn’t get done.

  The receptionist cleared a space on her desk for the tray. ‘Thank you, Mrs Smith, most welcome.’

  ‘Have you got a few minutes spare? There’s things I need to ask you.’

  ‘I’m not busy really. The accounts have been written and I’ll hand-deliver them myself when I go home. As there’s no surgery things are much quieter. What did you want to know?’

  ‘I’m not sure if I should be making sandwiches and putting them ready for when he comes back. Also, he said he didn’t want me to do any housework bu
t it won’t get done if I don’t do it. It’s my fault that Ava left.’

  ‘She didn’t leave, she was sacked. About time too, if you want my opinion. There aren’t many unpleasant people in this village but I’m afraid she’s one of them. All sweetness and light as long as you stay on the right side of her.’

  ‘I think I met two of her mates outside the post office. A mother and daughter, I reckon. Both had fair hair, piggy eyes and big bosoms.’

  Mrs Andrews laughed. ‘Your description’s perfect, my dear. You’ve got them to a T. Mrs and Miss Davenport. Celia Davenport, the daughter, has her eye on David so wouldn’t be happy having you living here.’

  ‘They must think I’m a nasty bit of work if they believe I’d be interested in anybody so soon after my man died a hero.’

  The more Nancy thought about things the more she regretted agreeing to stay. She didn’t want to make things difficult for no one so would leave immediately and not cause the nice doctor any more trouble.

  *

  David returned at a more sensible speed than he’d departed hours earlier. The baby had been breech, but had delivered safely. His expertise hadn’t been needed as the midwife could have delivered the baby without his help. Mother and child were doing well. He didn’t deliver many babies as the local midwife was excellent and only called him in when there was an emergency. Fortunately, this didn’t happen very often.

  He’d not had time for breakfast and it was now almost two o’clock. An appetising aroma of vegetable soup greeted him when he entered the surgery. Jill was talking on the telephone.

  ‘Mr Bevan, the doctor has just walked in. Would you like to speak to him?’ Luckily the patient was content with making an appointment for afternoon surgery, which allowed him to check the notes written in Jill’s immaculate handwriting.

  ‘Two house calls, I’m afraid. I said you would be there as soon as you were able. Mrs Smith has your luncheon waiting. It certainly smells delicious.’

  The kitchen was empty and the table laid for one. The saucepan of soup was keeping warm on the back of the range. There were a couple of salad sandwiches neatly wrapped and waiting in the pantry. Nancy must be resting. He’d eat first and then go in search of her.