The East End Girl in Blue

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘From now on I’m going to be your mum. You’re my little boy and girl and this baby in my tummy is going to be your brother or your sister when it comes.’

  Billy beamed. ‘We’ll call you Mum and when Uncle David comes to visit then we’ll call him Dad, won’t we Betty?’

  ‘Mum, Mum,’ she said obediently.

  ‘We’re not going back to the village. From now on we’re going to live here in a lovely house. It’ll be just the three of us until the baby comes.’

  ‘What about Auntie Mary?’

  ‘She has a new job looking after a nice old lady and she and Fred are moving into a cottage near the church. Doctor Jones will live in our old house now and Mrs Andrews will join him when they get married.’

  Betty had lost interest and was studying the grease-stained and ink-smudged photograph of the Prime Minister that had attracted her attention earlier.

  ‘That’s all right then. Where’s this house that’s going to be our home, Mum?’

  ‘It’s not far, no more than five minutes from here.’ She carefully folded the newspaper and pushed it into her handbag, knowing it would come in handy for lighting fires. There was no central heating in this house but it did have a boiler for hot water and a decent range in the kitchen.

  ‘See that lane down there, children? That’s where we’re going. Nearly there.’

  She let them run ahead as the lane was free from traffic and the worst that could happen was they’d both get scraped knees from the gravel underfoot if they fell. Springfield Villa was the smallest of the three detached houses in this lane but it was quite big enough for her.

  The front garden was as wild as the back was, but the children couldn’t see this until she unlocked the wooden gate in the six-foot brick wall. The path that led to the front door was also brick. At least this was clear of the worst of the weeds and easy to walk up.

  She left the gate unlocked as their belongings would be arriving shortly and the carter would have to use this gate. She supposed it might be possible to have things delivered by boat but she’d just taken Mr Smithson’s word for it that there was a river somewhere as you certainly couldn’t see it.

  Betty clutched her hand but Billy stood with his hands on his hips scowling at the house. ‘I don’t like this house. It’s not as nice as the other one. I don’t want to live here. I want to go home.’

  ‘This is your home, young man, and you blooming well better get used to it and stop moaning.’ She hadn’t meant to snap at him but it did the trick. He stopped looking so belligerent and ran to the front door.

  ‘Here, Billy, see if you can open the door for us. Can you reach the keyhole or do you need me to lift you up?’

  Having opened the door herself yesterday she knew he could do it if he stood on tiptoes. The key turned easily enough and he’d have no trouble opening it once the lock was undone.

  It took him a few minutes but he was proud as punch when the door swung open. There was a generous entrance hall floored with pretty coloured tiles. The children must have been expecting something as dismal as the garden and were delighted with what they saw.

  ‘Pretty floor, Mummy, I like the floor. Polly Dolly likes the floor too.’ Betty ran from side to side swinging her rag doll about and laughing.

  ‘What about you, Billy? Have you changed your mind about living here now you’ve seen inside?’

  ‘It’s grand, Mum. Where do Betty and me sleep?’

  ‘I’ll show you. I can’t make up your beds until our things arrive later.’

  It took almost an hour for the children to explore every inch of the house and by the end of it they were all ready for a drink and a sit-down. They had to settle for water until the carter arrived.

  There was a long sofa sort of thing in the sitting room. It wasn’t as wide as a normal one and had a padded roll at one end and nothing at the other. It was a cross between a bed and a sofa. It looked old and was probably an antique. When she wasn’t so tired she’d go around and look at all the furniture. She’d dismissed it as old-fashioned but now thought it might be a bit special.

  ‘This will be perfect for us, children. I can put my feet up and you can snuggle up with me and have a nap as well.’

  As she was drifting off she realised there wasn’t a telephone here and she’d got used to the convenience of having one in the house. She wasn’t even sure where the nearest telephone kiosk was if she needed to ring the midwife in a hurry.

  They were woken by Polly barking outside a couple of hours later. The little ones tumbled off the bed and raced to the front door, which had been left ajar. The dog bounded in and the children rolled about laughing and crying in excitement.

  Nancy left them to it and went out to tell the bloke and his assistant where she wanted things put. In her condition she didn’t want to be carrying boxes about if she could help it. Everything was soon in; she paid the man and he left with a generous tip and a promise not to reveal where she was living if anyone happened to ask.

  The baby had been heaving about again today and every time an elbow, foot or hand stuck out she winced. The sooner this baby arrived the happier she’d be, but not for another couple of weeks as she wouldn’t be ready for him before then. She was certain he’d turned round and was now the right way up. From the pressure between her legs she thought his head had dropped and was engaged.

  They had boiled eggs and soldiers for tea and then she made up their beds – she’d intended them to sleep in separate rooms but they insisted they wanted to be together. Tomorrow she had to go to the nearest shops and register so she could spend her points.

  *

  David was in no hurry to speak to Billings. Once he did so he would have to make a decision about whether he returned to work at the Royal Free or looked for something else at one of the other hospitals. If he wasn’t going to be blacklisted then there was no need for him to become an army medic, which was a relief as he didn’t think he’d be good under fire. Falling masonry, which was just as dangerous, was somehow impersonal, whereas gunfire was the opposite.

  One thing he could do was move into a hotel or guesthouse. What was the point of having money if you didn’t spend it to make your life more comfortable? He no longer felt guilty about being wealthy as he’d given half of it to Nancy and the children.

  Now he had a motorbike he didn’t have to be within walking distance of the hospital and could afford to live somewhere more salubrious than his present digs. He wanted his own bathroom, a laundry service and to be able to get meals and hot drinks when he wanted them. He found exactly what he was looking for in Guilford Street, which was still within walking distance if necessary.

  A grand Georgian house had been divided into what were best described as suites, each with their own facilities but fully serviced. The concierge showed him around.

  ‘We have our own air raid shelter in the basement but so far nothing has fallen near enough to do more than shake the building a little. There is a dining room and a small bar and food and drink are available at any time of the day or night.’ The man nodded and half-bowed as if talking to royalty. ‘There is also a public telephone for our guests’ convenience in the vestibule downstairs.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I want. I’ll take it. I’ll go back to my digs and collect my belongings and return with them later.’

  Jensen, that was the concierge’s name, handed him the key and left him to familiarise himself with what was going to be his home for the next few months at least. He had a bedroom, small but adequate, a shower, WC and basin as well as a decent-sized sitting room. There were empty bookshelves and he regretted having left his own library behind. He could hardly go down there now but if he rang Jill maybe she would be kind enough to pack them up so he could collect them when Nancy and the children moved away in a few weeks.

  When he arrived at his digs he met Billings coming out of the front door. ‘You haven’t got in touch with me, Mr Denny, so I’ve just left you a note in the hope you’d find it
when you did eventually return. I’m going to my club for a bite. Would you care to join me?’

  ‘I’m in the process of moving to Primrose House in Guilford Street.’

  ‘About time. A consultant surgeon, even a junior one, shouldn’t live in this dismal place.’ Billings raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to react to his new status.

  There’d been no mention of this promotion when they’d spoken the other night. He’d made it clear he hadn’t decided on his next career move. ‘If I’m going to continue to work with you and not go elsewhere then I need to set clear parameters.’

  ‘Of course, my dear boy, goes without saying. My car’s waiting to drive us. We can talk over lunch.’

  Eventually, he completed the move and unpacked his meagre belongings. Now David had joined the elite club, that of consultants, Billings had made it clear he was expected to attend dinners, cocktail parties and other functions. In order to do this he would need his dinner jacket and the remainder of his clothes.

  Evening surgery would be in full swing so there was no danger of Nancy picking up the telephone. Jill answered in her bright efficient way. He was staggered to discover that Nancy had moved out two days after he’d left.

  ‘Simon was obliged to move back as otherwise the telephone would have been unanswered if there was an emergency during the night.’

  ‘Do you know where she’s living now?’

  ‘Romford, but nobody has any idea of her exact address. Mrs Stanton was very upset that she didn’t bother to say goodbye.’

  ‘I’m sure she was. I need all my clothes and quite a few other things from the house. I’ve got the use of a car and am coming down now and should be there within the hour. Tell Simon I’ll get my solicitor to finalise the sale as there’s now no need to wait.’

  ‘Before you go, David, Nancy took all your books, both wirelesses and most of the utensils…’

  ‘I gave her the house and its contents. She was entitled to take everything. Goodbye, I’ll see you later.’

  It was none of Jill’s business and her complaint must have been because Simon had expected to have these things even though they weren’t included in the purchase.

  The chauffeur was happy to help with the transfer of the carefully packed suitcases and boxes stacked up in his old bedroom. David walked around the house one last time with mixed feelings. There’d been a lot of happiness here over the past decade but also a lot of sadness too.

  He would miss his dog but was glad Nancy had taken her wherever she’d gone. He was obliged to sit in the front next to the chauffeur on the return journey as the back of the car was crammed full with his things. He discovered that Jim was deaf in one ear and had flat feet so hadn’t been conscripted.

  ‘I like driving and as long as I keep my mouth shut about anything I see then Mr Billings and I get on just fine. He said if you give me your spare petrol can I’m to make sure it’s filled up whenever you need it.’

  ‘That would be a great help. I like to get out of the city when I get a few hours free.’

  This time it took him a lot longer to unpack. By the time he’d finished his two rooms looked like home. He didn’t need any more room than this. He’d cancelled the purchase of the house in St Albans much to the annoyance of the lawyer, but there was no point in buying it now Nancy had vanished.

  His intention had been to offer her and the children this place on a rent-free basis. Probably for the best that this hadn’t worked out and that they could both begin their new lives unencumbered by the past.

  The baby was due in less than ten days and he was sorry he wouldn’t know whether she had the boy she was hoping for or a girl. When this bloody war was over, he’d find them, but until then he must remain in ignorance of the outcome.

  He wandered downstairs and bumped into a consultant from the hospital. Hardly a surprise as this was the nearest respectable place to live, in walking distance of the Royal Free.

  ‘Look here, old boy, there’s a desperate shortage of unattached gentlemen in Town at present. I receive half a dozen invitations a week to attend various prestigious social events. I shall get your name added and you’ll be much in demand.’

  ‘I doubt I’ll be able to accept many invitations. I rarely get a night off.’

  ‘Things will be different now you’re a consultant. You can delegate.’

  David bit back a sharp rejoinder. He wasn’t in London to socialise but to save lives. The man was an ass.

  *

  Within a week of moving into Springfield Villa Nancy had everything organised the way she wanted. The midwife had confirmed that the baby was the right way up and could come any day. Two old geezers turned up, sent along by Mr Smithson, and were only too happy to clear the garden in return for being able to keep a couple of pigs and a dozen chickens on a patch of land by the river when they’d finished.

  The best thing that had happened was the arrival of the midwife’s niece, Jenny, a fourteen-year-old who wanted a live-in job until she was old enough to work at Marconi’s. The girl was happy to do whatever was wanted, including laundry and heavy cleaning.

  As Jenny did all the running about, collected the shopping, went to market and so on this meant that Nancy was able to remain at home. There was absolutely no danger of anyone from Chalfont Major accidentally discovering her whereabouts.

  She didn’t intend to write to either Jane or Charlotte until the baby arrived. Then she could tell them her new address at the same time. It would certainly be easier for both of them to visit now she was living in Chelmsford.

  On the night of the 10th of May she was unable to sleep because of the constant drone of bombers heading for London. The sky was alight with incendiaries and the constant sound of the anti-aircraft guns firing at the Germans added to the racket.

  Jenny joined her in the garden; both were in their nightgowns, to watch in horror. ‘London’s really copping it tonight, Mrs Smith. The moonlight makes it easy for them to see where they’re going.’

  ‘It also makes it easier for the fighters. There must be hundreds of Hurricanes, Spitfires and Typhoons up there trying to shoot them down. I’ve never seen so many German bombers come over at the same time.’

  She’d had a dull backache all day and was suddenly gripped by a pain that made her double up. ‘The baby’s coming, Mrs Smith. I’ll get dressed and run round and fetch my auntie.’

  A few exhausting and unpleasant hours later Nancy was handed a squalling, red-faced bundle. ‘You’ve got a lovely daughter, Mrs Smith. A healthy pair of lungs on her, that’s for sure.’

  ‘I was convinced I was having a boy and don’t have a name for a girl. It wasn’t quite as bad as I’d expected but I wouldn’t want to go through it again any time soon.’

  The midwife laughed. ‘That’s what all my mothers say. I promise you that within a few weeks you will have forgotten all about the discomfort.’

  ‘As I haven’t got a husband another baby is one thing I don’t have to worry about. I’m sure you’ve realised Billy and Betty aren’t mine. My husband was a lot older than me and they are his children. I think he married me to be a ma to them.’

  ‘I guessed as much. He didn’t waste much time finding himself another wife, but I don’t blame him. Bringing up kiddies isn’t a man’s job. He certainly left you well provided for.’

  ‘Not only that, I’ve now got a lovely little girl to add to the family.’

  ‘Jenny said you were both up because of the raid last night. The papers are full of it this morning. Over five hundred bombers dropped thousands and thousands of incendiaries and bombs all over London. Westminster Abbey and St Paul’s were hit.’

  ‘I thought it was bad. My family live in Poplar. I hope they haven’t been bombed out.’

  ‘There will be thousands of people homeless, probably thousands killed and injured. All four railway stations have been damaged too.’

  The baby was now sucking noisily and Nancy pretended to be absorbed by this. David could have been k
illed last night and she’d never know. The thought that he might be dead was unbearable. She could get on with her life all right as long as she knew he was doing the same.

  27

  David worked five sixteen-hour shifts, which meant he could avoid accepting any unwanted invitations to hopeful hostesses’ dinner parties. Then, unfortunately for him, his list finished mid-afternoon and he was free until the following morning at exactly the same time as Billings pounced on him.

  ‘Excellent, excellent, the board and consultants are meeting at the Ritz for drinks at seven tonight. You need to attend as so far none of them have actually met you face to face.’

  This was an invitation he couldn’t refuse as Billings had a point. ‘I’ll be there.’

  The bike was parked at the back of his accommodation, perfectly safe and easily accessible. It shouldn’t take him long if he rode down Gray’s Inn Road, turned right into Holborn, along Oxford Street down Regent Street and into Piccadilly. As long as there were no diversions and holes in the road from the previous night’s bombing to redirect his journey.

  He looked at his reflection, not recognising the man who stared back at him. He was a stone lighter, certainly fitter, and his dinner jacket hung from his shoulders. He rarely looked at himself in the mirror – apart from when he was shaving. There was grey in his hair now that hadn’t been there a few months ago.

  He smiled wryly. He thought it an old wives’ tale that worry could turn someone’s hair grey. Was it his present occupation or his tumultuous relationship with Nancy that had done it? It made him look more distinguished and hopefully would convince the board they hadn’t made a mistake by backing someone as inexperienced as he.

  His overalls had been washed and ironed – thank God they hadn’t starched them or they’d be impossible to pull on over his formal attire. He’d allowed himself ample time for the journey as he wanted to be able to park and remove his scruffy outer garments before he went in. It wouldn’t be dark for several hours and he didn’t intend to be here long if he could help it.