The East End Girl in Blue

by Fenella J Miller

  Nancy came in with a tray and put it down on the coffee table between him and Simon. David was conscious of his gaping shirt but needn’t have worried. His companion wandered across to the radio and switched it on, giving him time to pick up a sandwich and tea and head for the door.

  ‘I’ve got six weeks’ worth of sleep to catch up on so I’ll say good night.’

  *

  Spending the night in the marital bed for the first time since Julia had died would have been unthinkable a few months ago. It was a little over two weeks until Christmas Day and he felt as though he’d already had the best gift in the world.

  Halfway through the night he was woken by the drone of bombers heading for London and his heart sunk. The bastards were back, which meant he must return to his post immediately. The first bus to Chelmsford left at eight o’clock and he’d be on it.

  God knows when he’d see Nancy again, but one thing he was very certain of was that she was now irrevocably linked to him. However long it took he would overcome her objections and persuade her to marry him.

  17

  Nancy dashed home with only the feeble light from her torch to guide her. She shuddered as a wave of Jerry bombers droned overhead on their way to drop death on London. She hadn’t contacted her family and friends in Poplar since she’d returned months ago but they must be all right as the police would have contacted her if they weren’t.

  Violet had died today and yet she was skipping along happy as Larry because David loved her. Instead of slipping in through the back door of the vicarage as she always did, she detoured and went into the church. She’d not been in here in the dark before and it was freezing and unpleasant.

  God wouldn’t mind if she didn’t stay long but she needed to be closer to him and this was the best place. She ducked into a pew and turned off her torch. She didn’t need it whilst she was sitting down and batteries were almost impossible to replace.

  After a few moments in the cold her thoughts calmed. First, she apologised for being happy when Violet had died, leaving her children as orphans. Then she asked for God’s protection for David and for her family. Her final request was for the strength of will to continue to refuse his offer of marriage because if she agreed it would ruin his life.

  Her teeth were chattering by the time she’d finished praying and she scuttled out of the building, pulling the door closed behind her. To be honest she still wasn’t sure if praying was just talking to herself but it always made her feel better so it couldn’t be a bad thing to do.

  Only when she was surrounded by the choir, the congregation and listening to the old-fashioned words did her faith seem credible. Sometimes she believed that it was wishful thinking and the life you had was all you got and there was nothing wonderful to come.

  Surprisingly she slept well and was up at her usual time of half past six. She always laid up for breakfast, got the range going and cleaned out all the fires and got them ready to be lit. No central heating in this old vicarage and it was perishing first thing everywhere but the kitchen.

  The sky was red in the distance and she tried not to think of the damage that had been done to cause this amount of fire. Two weeks to Christmas Day and she reckoned it was going to be a miserable one for most people. Last year the government had told everyone to enjoy themselves but now there was nothing in the shops and very few extras to be found even if you had the money to buy them.

  The meat ration had just been cut from two shillings and two pence to one shilling and ten pence. Living in the country meant there was the occasional rabbit and plenty of vegetables available. Fred was going to kill a cockerel for Christmas lunch so they were lucky.

  On her last trip into Chelmsford she’d managed to buy a large box of chocolate peppermint creams. This was hidden away and would be shared by everyone on the day itself. She’d made clothes for the children as well as a rag doll for Betty and a cloth teddy bear for Billy. Mary had a scarf and Fred three initialled handkerchiefs.

  Mrs Stanton was getting a pretty blouse with a Peter Pan collar that she’d made from a length of material she’d found in the attic at David’s house. The vicar had got handkerchiefs like Fred. She’d bought nothing for David as she didn’t know if she was going to be seeing him.

  Polly almost upended her when she arrived at the back door. ‘Silly dog, what are you doing out here so early?’

  The blackout curtain stopped light from escaping into the garden when you opened the door. She almost wet her knickers when David spoke to her from a few feet away.

  ‘We are out here waiting for you, my darling. No regrets about last night?’

  ‘Absolutely none. I don’t want to hang about out here – it’s even colder than last night.’

  Before she could protest she was tugged into his arms and thoroughly kissed. Something so lovely couldn’t be wrong, could it?

  He’d been busy and the table was laid, her early morning jobs already completed. ‘Ta ever so for getting things ready. It’s blooming cold at the vicarage and there was ice on the inside of my bedroom window this morning.’

  ‘Move in here, Nancy. Now Violet’s no longer with us you can have her room. You spend so much time here it makes sense for you to actually live here.’

  ‘Now you don’t live here I can’t see that anyone will object.’ She smiled and his eyes blazed. ‘Don’t you get any ideas, Doctor Denny – no more hanky-panky this visit.’

  ‘Then I’ll just have to come here more often in future.’ His smile made her hot all over. ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa, naturally.’

  ‘I don’t want to let the Stantons down. They’ve been so kind to me. Another thing, I can’t do without her machine either. I get a fair bit of extra money making things for people of an evening.’

  ‘I’m sure you can continue to do that. You also sing in the choir and that won’t stop, will it?’

  ‘I’ll speak to them when I nip home later after lunch is over. Are you catching the first bus?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. I promise you that if I get even a day off then I’ll come down.’ He was munching through the toast she’d made and was on his second mug of tea.

  ‘I’ve not changed my mind about the other thing.’

  ‘I know, which is why I’ve not mentioned it again. I still think you’re wrong but I respect your reasons for refusing.’ His expression became serious. ‘I’ve rewritten my will – I’d done it before I came down. Everything I have has been left to you. I want to be sure that you and your baby will be taken care of if anything happens to me.’

  She was rarely speechless but for a few moments was incapable of responding. ‘You can’t do that – what will folk say?’

  His laughter filled the room. ‘I won’t be there to hear them so I don’t care. I’ve got no one else and I’ve no intention of leaving it to a cats’ home or something equally ridiculous. You have no say in the matter, sweetheart, it’s a fait accompli.’ He raised an eyebrow and she threw the tea cosy at him.

  ‘I know what that means. Sometimes I really don’t like you, David Denny. You’re…’ She paused to gather her thoughts and choose exactly the right words. ‘You’re arrogant, assertive and overbearing.’

  He pushed himself slowly to his feet with a gleam in his eye that she didn’t trust. She backed away but he continued to approach. ‘I’m impressed, Mrs Smith, with your grasp of vocabulary. I’m surprised you didn’t add – amorous, adorable and…’

  ‘Asinine,’ she said as his bulk blocked her escape. ‘I only know the A words really well.’

  ‘I shouldn’t tease you, but I love you so much and everything you do, as far as I’m concerned, just makes you more perfect for me.’

  Eventually she escaped from his kisses and was able to rush into the scullery so she could thoroughly clean the waiting room and surgery before the receptionist arrived. She’d been worried he would follow her in and expect a repeat of what had happened in here last night but fortunately for her Simon arrived.

  Like David
he just wanted toast and tea and insisted that he was capable of doing that for himself so she’d no need to go back to the kitchen. Keeping busy was the answer as it stopped her thinking about the time and how little of it there was before David left.

  The house was busy, the children rushing about wanting to say their goodbyes as well, which meant she just smiled and nodded as he walked out with his small bag to catch the bus. He’d forgotten to tell the children about their mother and she had no wish to do so herself. Mary would be the best person to break the bad news.

  *

  David left to catch the bus feeling ten years younger. He would have been happier if he’d been able to spend more than a few minutes alone with Nancy this morning. He was smiling as he jumped on the bus thinking what a bundle of energy she was – the polar opposite of his first wife.

  The bus rattled and bumped its way to Chelmsford where everybody disembarked. The conversation he’d overheard between the housewives sitting in front of him had been about the damage done to the East End again last night.

  He kept his stethoscope and white coat in his locker at the hospital so there was no need for him to go to his digs first. Nobody mentioned his absence or his return. He just stepped in as if he’d not been away and dealt with whatever patient needed his expert attention.

  He worked straight through until eight o’clock. ‘Sister, I’m going to take a break for twenty minutes. I’ve not eaten since early this morning and won’t get through until the end of my shift if I don’t.’

  ‘Don’t be long, the second wave of ambulances are on their way.’

  He grabbed a couple of sandwiches with some sort of anonymous meat filling, a mug of tea and found himself an empty chair at a table already occupied.

  ‘Evening, David, missed you last night. Someone said you’d taken the day off – lucky bugger.’ The speaker – Galley – was one of the team of surgeons who worked around the clock sometimes, and was his immediate superior.

  ‘Domestic emergency – all sorted now. Don’t look so disapproving. I’ve been working non-stop since I got here two months ago. I’m supposed to have a minimum of two days a week free so…’

  ‘Point taken. For God’s sake, don’t vanish without warning another time. Give us the opportunity to put someone in place.’

  David grinned and continued to munch his sandwich. ‘Does the word emergency not register? Sorry if I left you in the lurch. That said, I’m going to take every opportunity to go home that I can. I almost went for a burton last week and things are going to get hairier here over the next few weeks.’

  ‘How long does it take you to get back to the godforsaken place you call home?’

  ‘I’ve done it in just under three hours.’

  ‘Then if push came to shove you could get back here quickly?’

  ‘Three hours, yes, but obviously there’s no transport in the middle of the night and I no longer have a car.’

  ‘Mr Billings wasn’t pleased. He appears to be taking an interest in you, Denny, so don’t bugger it up.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll apologise to him if I see him.’ This was unlikely as the chief of surgery was rarely seen in casualty.

  Galley nodded and stood up. ‘It’s easier for those of us who live in London to get home and see the family. You really need Mr Billings’ permission to take twenty-four hours when things are quiet, on the understanding that you come back PDQ if necessary.’

  ‘Thank you, I’ll speak to him now. I won’t bore you with details but things are complicated back there and until decisions have been made, I’ll need to be there as often as possible.’

  Galley nodded in acknowledgement and strode off. He’d no doubt got many hours of surgery to perform before he could go home. Tonight several new doctors turned up at the hospital and he was able to leave at midnight. He headed for his digs to catch some much-needed sleep.

  Strolling through the blackout with only his torch to guide him no longer caused him problems despite his poor night vision. However, tonight he didn’t need his torch. The bombers were flying relentlessly overhead, the Bofors guns boomed out and searchlights crisscrossed the sky. Fires made it light enough to see. Fire engines and ambulances clanged their way through the streets. The all clear siren was unlikely to go until the morning. Those who had started to use the underground stations as air raid shelters wouldn’t bother to go home even if it did.

  There’d been no respite from the devastating attacks since they’d started in September. Only when the weather was so bad that the planes iced up and couldn’t fly had there been a break. He was supposed to stop work at midnight and report back at eight o’clock the following morning. All too often when things were grim everyone worked until the patients were dealt with regardless of how long they’d been on their feet.

  The next two weeks were relentless and even a letter from Nancy, telling him that the children were fine and excited about Christmas and performing in the Nativity play, failed to raise his spirits. For a second time he had narrowly missed being exterminated by falling masonry on his way to work.

  How in God’s name did the poor sods in the East End manage to keep cheerful? Nancy’s family lived in Poplar – right in the firing line – but she’d not mentioned them having been bombed out or injured so far. He scarcely had time to scribble a quick note in reply saying that he loved her and would come for a visit whenever he could.

  He heard two casualty nurses talking about going to the cinema. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone as Julia thought films were vulgar and had refused to go anywhere apart from the theatre. In the Sunday Dispatch there’d been numerous advertisements for what was available in the West End. He certainly wouldn’t go and see anything war-related like Neutral Port.

  If he had the opportunity he’d love to take Nancy to see The Thief of Bagdad, on at the Odeon Leicester Square, as this was in what they called the “Magic Technicolor”. The chance of being able to do that was non-existent. Even if she’d come, he wouldn’t risk taking her anywhere in London with the nightly raids from the blasted Germans.

  Tomorrow was Christmas Day and he’d heard that there would be an unofficial truce between the Luftwaffe and the RAF for two days. He went in search of Billings and was fortunate enough to find him.

  ‘I’m going to take tomorrow and Boxing Day off, sir. I’ve arranged cover with one of the new bods and will leave directly after my shift tonight.’

  ‘Fair enough. How the hell are you going to get there? I don’t want you marooned in the back of beyond if I need you in a hurry.’

  ‘I’ve managed to borrow a motorbike with a full tank. It won’t take me more than an hour in either direction with so little traffic on the road.’

  ‘Don’t run out of bloody petrol.’

  ‘I didn’t ask where my friend found it, but there’s a spare can in one of the side panniers so absolutely no chance of that.’

  *

  It was bitterly cold with snow in the air and he was glad Jonathan – one of the junior doctors who’d been kind enough to loan him the bike – had also let him use his thick greatcoat, helmet, goggles and leather gloves. What he really needed were flying boots as the wind, despite the bicycle clips around his trouser legs, was making them flap.

  As he hadn’t known until this afternoon that he would definitely be able to nip home for thirty-six hours he’d not alerted Nancy. No point in raising her hopes and then having to disappoint her if nothing had come of it.

  He’d managed to find an hour to do a bit of shopping. He had sweets for the children, a box of chocolates to share for Fred and Mary and a lovely gold locket that he’d found in a pawnshop for Nancy.

  He’d never ridden a motorbike before but Jonathan had assured him if he could drive a car and ride a pushbike then this would be a doddle. One thing it wasn’t, was easy. Twice he’d almost catapulted over the handlebars when the bike had skidded on a patch of black ice. By the time he arrived home he was half-frozen and a bag of ner
ves from the experience.

  He switched off the engine and pushed the bike up the drive so he didn’t wake anybody. It was a damned noisy beast but certainly efficient, although he was dreading having to make the return journey. He would make sure he travelled in daylight next time.

  The back door was never locked as Polly would wake anyone by barking if a stranger tried to come in. He spoke to her through the window as he walked past and she was waiting at the door, her tail wagging so hard that her entire body was waving from side to side in time with it.

  ‘Hello, old girl. I’m glad to see you too. Merry Christmas. Now, you daft dog, let a fellow get in and get warm.’

  He crept around the place like a burglar expecting someone to get up and confront him at any moment but the house remained quiet. After a quick cuppa he was ready to find his way upstairs and into Nancy’s room.

  They both knew he’d no intention of sleeping on the sofa, whatever he’d said to the contrary. The dog returned to her bed with a sigh of happiness and he knew exactly how she felt. His intention was to oversleep and be discovered sleeping in the same bedroom as Nancy and forcing her hand.

  As he was about to go upstairs he reconsidered. This would be grossly unfair to her. Hastily, he collected the blankets from the store cupboard and made himself up a rudimentary bed on the sofa in the sitting room. Julia had always called it the drawing room – but it wasn’t grand enough for that title in his opinion.

  There was a splendid tree in one corner. His mouth curved as he examined the strange collection of decorations obviously made by the children. He put his gifts with the others under the tree and was delighted to see the children had a stocking each.

  He dumped his bag, removed his shoes and socks, jacket and tie and only then went upstairs. He hadn’t turned on any lights as doing so might have woken someone. He hesitated outside her door, wondering if he should knock then thought: better not as Mary or Fred or, even worse, the children might hear him.