Sarah’s main concern was Betty, whose recovery was slow. Her cuts and bruises healed, but she was often in low spirits and talked of her Charlie often. The many nights spent in the Anderson shelter in the garden of number thirteen were fraught, as Betty found it hard to be confined in the small space after her recent experience.
Ruby was concerned that there was no improvement in the pleasant, well-spoken woman who had come to mean so much to the family.
‘They’ll have her locked up in the nut house before too long if she carries on like that,’ Vera pointed out, after observing Betty clutching her arms around her body and jumping at a sudden noise from the road outside the house.
‘That’s uncharitable, Vera. Betty has been kind to this family and is a good friend. I doubt you’d have coped so well if you’d been trapped like she was.’
Vera shrugged. ‘You’d take in any lame duck. Time you thought about yourself for a change, Ruby Caselton.’
Ruby sighed. Vera was right, but she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction by saying so. She felt like a coiled spring at times, as she worried about the girls. If they were home late from work and there was an air raid, she fretted that they were caught somewhere. She worried that Georgina would not thrive while there was a war on. Although, she had to admit that when she mentioned this, the girls had taken her to the garden and pointed out the amount of vegetables growing, as well as the nearby allotment they did their best to maintain. When the time came to wean the baby, she would not want for fresh vegetables. They were right: Georgina would be the healthiest toddler in town.
However, there was Betty. Her health was not improving and something had to be done. Irene was driving George up from Devon the next day. Perhaps having visitors would perk Betty up a little. At least Ruby didn’t have to worry about George and his health. He had improved in leaps and bounds since his car accident. They managed to save his leg, although George would always have some mobility problems. What had amazed Ruby was the way that her daughter-in-law, Irene, had taken control of the situation. In the few short months since the accident she had learnt to drive and now ferried George back and forth to see his specialist, and even found time to visit their granddaughter. Irene was truly a changed woman, and as far as Ruby was concerned, it was for the better.
George and Irene didn’t arrive until the early evening, having to stop twice on their journey, once because of an air raid and the second time to pull over to the side of the road as the gallant RAF fought off the enemy overhead. Irene was full of it when she arrived, but stopped talking about the RAF when Sarah entered the room with Georgina, as by then the whole family knew that it was a taboo subject. Alan was not to be spoken about ever again. However, all thoughts of her missing son-in-law went out of her mind when Irene spotted Betty.
‘Oh, my poor woman. You look a shadow of your former self. Come and sit with me and tell me all about it.’ Irene picked up their teacups and carried them into the front room for some privacy. ‘Now, sit down here and take your tea.’
An hour later the two women rejoined the family. Betty’s face was tear-stained, but to Ruby she looked calmer than she had done for weeks.
Irene clapped her hands for attention and the family listened intently. ‘I’ve had a long chat with Betty and we’ve decided that it would be a good idea for her to come back with us to Devon for a while. The fresh air will do her good and she will be able to return to her job with renewed vigour.’
George kissed Betty on the cheek. ‘You don’t happen to play golf, do you?’
Sarah laughed out loud. Her dad would do anything not to accompany her mum to the golf club.
Irene frowned at her husband, but then joined in with the laughter. ‘It will be good to have female company again, since my own daughter won’t return to her home. Now, who mentioned fish and chips for tea? This is our treat.’ She had no sooner asked her question than the air-raid siren started to wail. ‘Oh well, food will have to wait. Time to visit Georgina’s birthplace. Come along, everyone.’
Two hours later they were back in the house and Sarah had started to make a list of who wanted fish and chips when the front door burst open and Freda rushed in. ‘They’ve got the Running Horses,’ she gasped.
‘Was anyone hurt?’ George asked.
Freda nodded. ‘A few, from what I heard. We took shelter at work, and when I was coming home, I could see people tending to the injured. Sarah, wasn’t Maisie going there this evening for a drink?’
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. ‘No. She said she was meeting someone special at the Crown instead.’
Freda looked horrified. ‘But that pub was damaged as well. It’s only across the road from the Running Horses.’
Ruby sat down, her face a ghostly white. ‘No, she changed her plans at the last moment. She decided on the Running Horses. Why is it that everyone who has slept under my roof has been put in so much danger?’ she moaned, a stricken look on her face. ‘That girl’s already lost her old man, and now she could be injured or, worse, dead herself . . .’ She got up and headed to the cupboard under the stairs where she kept her coat. ‘I won’t be able to sleep until I know the girl is safe.’
Sarah got up to follow Ruby. ‘No, you stay here,’ Irene said. ‘I’ll go with your nan. I’m just glad you weren’t on fire duty tonight. We don’t want any more sadness in our lives.’
Sarah tried to keep herself occupied while she waited for news of Maisie. She busied herself rinsing out a few baby clothes, while Freda kept her company in the kitchen deciding whether to make everyone a bite to eat. They’d all gone off the idea of fish and chips. ‘Do you have any idea who Maisie was meeting, Freda?’ she asked as she added some soap flakes to the warm water and gently squeezed the suds through a pink matinee coat.
‘I’ve no idea at all. She was polishing her shoes and getting her best frock out of the wardrobe before I left for work, so it must have been someone special.’
‘Do you think it could be her brother? She’s not seen him in years from all accounts.’
Freda thought for a moment. ‘No, I don’t think so, otherwise she’d have said. No, I think it’s a bloke. She had quite a sparkle in her eyes.’
‘It would be good to see Maisie happy again. She’d make someone a good wife,’ Sarah added, trying not to think that her friend could be lying dead in a bombed-out pub at this very moment. ‘How about your Lenny? Where do you think he’s got to? I thought you’d have heard from him by now.’
Freda looked sad. ‘I’ve not heard hide nor hair of him since he legged it from here. We are no nearer to clearing his name. If I get my hands on the little toe rag, I’ll wring his neck.’
‘I liked Lenny. He’s just a kid who got in with the wrong gang. I’m sure it’ll work out all right. Once he turns up, we can make sure that he tells his story to the authorities and all will be well.’
‘I just hope he’s all right out there. Being on the run in wartime ain’t no picnic,’ Freda said sadly.
Both girls continued pottering around in the scullery deep in thought about their loved ones.
Time slowly ticked by as the family waited for Ruby and Irene to return. George suggested they play a game of cards to while away the time, but no one could concentrate. When a key was heard turning in the lock just before eleven o’clock, they all jumped and turned as one to see who would walk into the front room.
Everyone gasped as Maisie entered. Her usually perfect hair was askew and her make-up smeared. Her clothes seemed to be covered in dust. She flopped into the nearest armchair before Ruby and Irene entered, followed by a tall, broad-shouldered man in RAF uniform who was introduced as David Carlisle.
‘Take a seat, David. I’ll get us all a drink. I think we can do with it after what we’ve seen,’ Ruby said. ‘There’s a drop of whisky in the sideboard. Let’s see it off, shall we?’
Freda found the bottle and the small glasses Ruby used when they drank sherry. No one seemed to mind as they sat silently sipping the
strong alcohol. Freda considered putting on the kettle – she wasn’t one for strong drink – but she didn’t want to miss out on anything that was said.
George was the first to speak. ‘So what happened?’
‘Thankfully Maisie and David changed their plans and met at the Prince of Wales, otherwise they’d have been at the Running Horses when it was hit by the blast from the landmine,’ Irene said.
‘Was it a direct hit?’
‘No, George, and possibly if it had been, the people in the pub across the road would have survived. From what we were told, the landmine struck the concrete by the riverfront and it was the blast that hit the two pubs.’
Maisie spoke for the first time. ‘We were walking down the road from the Prince of Wales when it went off.’ She glanced at Ruby. ‘I know we should have been in the shelter, but we thought the all-clear would go soon and wanted to get to the front of the queue for a drink.’
Ruby didn’t answer. Now wasn’t the time and the girl had learnt her lesson from what she’d seen this night. However, Ruby had always lived by the rule that it was better to be late in this world than early in the next. She’d have a word with Maisie later.
Maisie continued. ‘We were the first to get there. There were a couple of blokes lying in the road, so David went to check, but there was nothing he could do. I could see through what was left of the windows of the Running Horses. People were still sitting at a table and they seemed to be all right. I went to look, but . . . they were all dead. Not a mark on them and they was all as dead as doornails.’ She chewed her painted nails, her hands still shaking as she told of what she’d seen.
‘I’ve heard it can happen like that,’ George said. ‘If it’s any consolation, it would have been so quick they wouldn’t have known a thing about it.’
‘It was a shock, sir. I’ve seen some things since the war began, but this was truly awful,’ David said to George.
Freda felt sick. ‘Those poor, poor people. Where did you find Maisie?’ she asked Ruby.
‘By the time we got down the road, they weren’t letting people past, but I knew the ARP warden who had taken charge and told him we was looking for Maisie. When he said he’d seen her, my heart near leapt out of my chest, I can tell you. When we saw her and David, I’d never been so happy in all my life.’
‘I know the whisky went down well, but I think we still need a cuppa,’ Sarah announced.
‘I’ll give you a hand,’ David said, getting to his feet and following her from the room.
After putting the kettle onto the stove, Sarah reached into a cupboard and handed the cups and saucers to David, who laid them on a tray. ‘So you’re a friend of Maisie’s?’ Sarah asked.
‘You could say that.’ He smiled down at her. David was taller than Alan and as dark as Alan had been fair.
Sarah thought his smile was wonderful. It lit up his face. ‘Have you known her long?’ She was still worried that Maisie would return to her wild ways, as she had done after Joe’s death.
‘Oh, we go way back. You could say we’re almost family.’
‘Really?’ Sarah didn’t wish to appear to be prying, however much his words intrigued her. She poured the boiling water into a large teapot and covered it with the brown knitted cosy before placing it onto the prepared tea tray.
‘Shall I take that?’ David said as Sarah also reached for the tray. David’s strong hands covered hers and for a moment Sarah felt as though time stood still. She looked up into his deep brown eyes and felt an immediate connection. She hadn’t had feelings like this since she first met Alan. A thrill of excitement ran through Sarah and reminded her of how she’d felt when she fell in love, but at the same time it terrified her. She felt so confused.
25
‘You are still coming to us for Christmas Day, aren’t you, David?’ Ruby asked. She’d taken to the RAF officer, even though she felt her granddaughter was getting far too fond of him. It wasn’t quite a year since Alan had been with them for Christmas dinner, and only months since they’d heard he was missing and presumed dead, but David had become a regular visitor to number thirteen since the night Maisie first brought him home. Being based at Biggin Hill, he would often jump into his car when off duty and call in to invite the girls to the cinema or a drink down the pub.
‘I certainly am, Mrs Caselton, and thank you again. In fact, I have something for you in the boot of my car.’
‘But, David, you’ve already treated us all to a trip to the cinema.’ Ruby was still humming the tune to Strike Up the Band the day after the trip to Erith Odeon, while young Freda was more than a little in love with the American movie star Mickey Rooney. Even with the worry that the Luftwaffe could have spoilt the evening with another bombing raid, they had enjoyed themselves. As it was, the film wasn’t broken by an announcement to head for the public shelter, so there was even more cause to celebrate.
All in all, Ruby thought, the lead-up to Christmas 1940 had been a festive affair, considering that it was the second since the country had gone to war with Germany. She was still enjoying her part-time job in the staff kitchen at Woolworths. Her Eddie would have chuckled to see her working at her age, but she knew he would have approved. He’d never been one of those men who thought a woman’s place was just to be at the beck and call of her husband. No doubt if he had still been with them, he’d have been helping out as an air-raid warden or doing his bit defending the town as a home guard. No, the Caseltons were not a family to shirk their responsibilities. He’d also have been proud of their Sarah getting back to work so soon after giving birth to Georgina, and of everyone who’d mucked in to help care for the baby. Why, even Georgina played her part in the war effort by being the most delightful child that ever had the grace to be placed on this earth. Vera from up the road agreed the child was a little angel, and she never usually voiced such positive opinions. She’d even looked after the baby when they all went to the cinema with David.
Ruby snapped out of her thoughts as David staggered back into the house carrying a large wicker hamper.
‘My goodness, David. Whatever have you got there?’
‘Just a few things from my mother, Mrs Caselton. She doesn’t like to think of me eating you out of house and home when so much is rationed.’
‘But where would she get all this when we have so much rationing?’ Ruby asked. ‘So sorry if I sound nosy, but I wouldn’t like to think anyone was going without, like.’
‘You’re all right there, Mrs C. David’s family won’t go short – they’ve got acres of land,’ Maisie announced, diving into the hamper and pulling out a large pork pie with a whoop. ‘I haven’t seen one of these for a while. A slice of pie and some of the pickle you put by before the war will go down a treat for Christmas night tea.’
‘Oh my,’ Ruby said as she spotted a goose wrapped in muslin nestling in straw at the bottom, surrounded by what looked like a plum pudding, a bottle of port and an iced cake. Apart from being overwhelmed by the thought of such a wonderful gift from people she’d never met, she was already worrying about how to cook the goose. It was a bird she’d never encountered before, apart from the gaggle that wandered in the yard of the farm where her daughter, Pat, lived with her farmhand husband. That’s it, she thought with relief, I’ll ask Pat when I pop down with the kids’ Christmas boxes later. She must have cooked a few of the vicious buggers since she’s lived there. ‘Remind me, how are the pair of you related?’ she asked Maisie and David.
‘We’re not blood relatives as such,’ Maisie explained. ‘David’s mum and my Joe’s dad were cousins.’
‘Joe used to come to stay with us when we were kids and we kept in touch over the years. I looked him up again when I was based over this way and met Maisie just after they were married. When I heard about Joe, I searched out Maisie to offer my condolences. You could say the rest was history.’ He glanced at Sarah and gave her a warm smile.
Ruby raised her eyebrows at what was explained to her and Maisie noticed. ‘David a
nd my Joe were like chalk and cheese. However, David’s family are the cream of the crop,’ she said.
And Joe’s mother, Doreen, was three-day-old sour milk, Ruby thought to herself.
Sarah and Maisie packed away the food and bottles, and tried to insist that David return the wicker hamper to his mother. He refused, saying that she had plenty and Sarah was delighted to be given it to store away some of Georgina’s baby clothes. Space was at a premium at number thirteen with so many under the roof. Maureen, Sarah’s mother-in-law, had insisted that Sarah use her house in nearby Crayford Road while she stayed with her sister, but Sarah preferred to live in Alexandra Road with her nan, so it had been rented to a local family whose own home was uninhabitable after the bombings.
David had to return to Biggin Hill. Sarah knew that his job didn’t involve flying anymore, but as Ruby kept reminding them all that ‘careless talk costs lives’, she thought better than to ask him too much, even though she would have loved to know more about an RAF pilot’s life so she could tell Georgina when she was older.
When Ruby went to visit her daughter, Pat, in nearby Slade Green, Sarah took the opportunity to speak to Maisie about something that had been playing on her mind since she’d met David. ‘Maisie, do you mind awfully if I ask you something personal?’
Maisie could see that Sarah looked serious and sat down on the sofa, tucking her long legs beneath her. ‘Ask away.’
‘It’s David. I feel such a fool for wondering but think it best we clear the air. I’d hate to fall out with you.’
‘Blimey, this sounds serious. What do you want to know? I couldn’t tell you exactly how much they’ve got in the coffers, but it’s a fair amount,’ Maisie laughed.
The Woolworths Girls Page 30