Then he was out of the car and striding away laughing at her embarrassment. Several heads turned as he made his way towards the entrance of the station. Until he’d kissed her she’d not seen him as anything but an adopted older brother.
She ran her tongue along her tingling lips, not quite sure how she felt about him now. Why had he done it? Had he come to view her as a potential girlfriend and was letting her know she had two suitors? This idea was ridiculous – he’d just been teasing her. He was well aware she was in love with Greg.
The car skidded twice as the first heavy flakes of snow began to fall and she was glad to be home without anything worse happening.
The mood at church yesterday had been sombre. Despite the fact that nothing much had happened; everyone was expecting the Luftwaffe to arrive at any moment and drop poisonous gas on them. The women talked about shortages and the fact that rationing would be starting in January. Even those with husbands or sons at sea, or in France, appeared to be more concerned about the lack of basic food in the shops, than they were about the safety of their loved ones.
If Dad hadn’t had his stroke a few months ago she thought she would’ve joined the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force – WAAFs, but she wasn’t going to leave him until she was certain he was completely fit. Anyway, being so close to aircraft but not being allowed to fly them would be upsetting to say the least.
Mrs B waved to her through the kitchen window and held up a cup. Ellie nodded. She could have a quick drink whilst she put on her overalls, thick socks and gumboots. She’d taken over the pigs. They were intelligent creatures and she enjoyed spending time with them. However, she was sure she never quite got rid of the smell however much she washed.
‘It won’t be the same with Jack gone, I expect you’ll miss him too,’ Mrs B said as she handed over a cuppa.
‘I certainly will – but I think that my dad will miss him most. I wish he was as fond of Greg as he is of Jack.’
‘Your young man is a bit grand for Fred, but he likes him well enough. Jack’s more down-to-earth and just fits in better at Glebe Farm.’
‘Everyone was moaning about shortages at matins. Mrs B, are you going to be able to get enough together to make it a memorable Christmas?’
‘I’ve already made a cake and the pudding. We’re lucky here, we won’t go short. Fred got a letter from the Min of Ag saying all the produce has to go to designated shops and we can’t sell from the door anymore.’
‘I expect we’ll have enough cracked eggs to keep us going and I’m sure nobody will notice when we take milk and cream. Last time I looked in the pantry there were two sides of bacon hanging up. I’m assuming we can keep those and just have to give up any future meat.’
‘I should blooming well hope so, you’re all working ever so hard, out in all weathers, and you deserve to eat properly.’
Ellie finished her tea. ‘It’s a good thing I’ve got several pairs of overalls. I’d hate it if I had to put on smelly ones.’
*
The weather continued to deteriorate and as soon as the snow thawed a fresh lot fell. The Spitfires from Hornchurch continued to fly over in formation and every time she heard them approaching her stomach lurched. Her ears were telling her these were friendly planes but all the talk of imminent bombing was making her nervous.
The week before Christmas Greg missed his planned evening call. ‘He always rings at seven o’clock, Dad. I shan’t be able to sleep tonight worrying about what’s happened.’
‘Don’t fret, love, it won’t change anything. We’ve got four young men to worry about and it’s going to drive us daft if we panic every time there’s a missed call. Believe me, we’ll hear soon enough if anything’s wrong.’
‘I hate this war and it’s hardly started yet. The Prime Minister keeps saying he’s confident of victory, but I don’t see how that’s possible. I read in the Daily Sketch the other day that hundreds of civilians have been killed because of the blackout – far more than soldiers, sailors or airmen.’
‘It’s silly buggers going too fast when there’s no street lighting or headlamps on the cars. I reckon that things will get better on the roads as petrol rationing gets tighter.’
Mrs B always joined them in the sitting room after she’d finished her chores. It was cosy in there with the log fire crackling away in the grate. Dad looked happier than she’d ever seen him and she was glad for him.
To give them some time alone in the evening she’d assumed the task of making the cocoa. After she’d taken their drinks into them she went to bed. Usually she was so tired she fell asleep immediately, but tonight she couldn’t settle.
She was downstairs and getting the breakfast on the go before Mrs B appeared. At seven o’clock, her usual time for coming down, the telephone rang.
‘I’ll get it. No need for all of us to get cold in the passageway.’
Her heart was hammering as she lifted the handset, dreading what she might hear.
‘Ellie, darling, sorry to ring so early but I guessed you would be worried. I won’t be able to call you anymore as we’re doing night flying training.’
‘I don’t mind if you don’t call if I know you’re safe. Dad’s told me I’ve got to get used to not hearing from you so often and he’s right. Just ring whenever you get a moment, if I’m not here you can leave a message with Mrs B.’
‘Good show. I’ll be home Christmas Eve. Neil and I have arranged to meet at Romford and will get a taxi so there’s no need for you to come and collect us.’ There was the sound of someone speaking in the background. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, duty calls.’
She replaced the receiver and turned to see both her father and Mrs B hovering anxiously in the kitchen door. ‘Night flying – he’s absolutely fine.’
‘Glad to hear it, Ellie love. I don’t think any of us got much sleep last night. I’ll give you a hand with the pigs this morning as I can’t do anything in the fields until the snow goes.’
‘When we’ve finished will you help me get the chain on Greg’s bike? I’ve painted it in patriotic colours – I doubt that anyone else on the base will have a red white and blue bicycle.’
‘I can do it after lunch, Ellie. One of the tenants has a problem with his roof and I said I’d go and have a look.’
‘I managed to get the chain on Neil’s but some reason I’m finding it hard to do it on this one.’
Mrs B beamed at her. ‘I think it’s a lovely idea, doing up those old cycles for your brother and young man. They’ll be ever so pleased with their Christmas presents. What colour have you painted the other one?
‘I’ve just painted the frame red and left the rest in the original black. I’m so looking forward to having them both home. It’s going to be a very special Christmas.’
Twenty-two
Ellie went up in the loft and after a lot of rummaging discovered a box of Christmas bits and pieces. She carried them downstairs and plonked them on the kitchen table.
‘I don’t think you’ll find anything decent in there, Ellie,’ her father said. ‘They are the things that went up when I was a boy.’
‘All the more reason to use them this year. We’ve got plenty of holly and even a couple of sprigs of mistletoe and Mrs B is a dab hand at making flower arrangements.’
‘That I am, love, and I’m looking forward to doing it, I can tell you.’ She put a second larger cardboard box beside the first. ‘I’ve got plenty of pretty decorations in here, and two sets of electric tree lights. My hubby and I liked things to be jolly. I know they say that decorations are for the children, but just because we weren’t blessed with any it didn’t mean we had to do without.’
This was the longest speech Ellie had heard the housekeeper make since she’d arrived a few months ago. ‘When are you bringing in the tree, Dad? I want to have it decorated before Neil and Greg arrive on Christmas Eve.’
‘It doesn’t do to bring it in too soon as the needles will drop before twelfth night. I got one with good roots and it’s already
planted up in a nice pot. If I put it back in the ground, we should be able to use it every year.’
Ellie was rummaging through both boxes. ‘Look at these, Dad, they open out into bells and huge balls. I didn’t know you could make things like this out of tissue paper.’
Mrs B smiled proudly. ‘There’s tissue paper chains as well, more than enough to make the dining room and sitting room look really pretty. I know there’s a war on but I managed to get everything I wanted at Woolworths when I went into town. Apart from so many of our men being in France I don’t think this is going to be much different from any other Christmas.’
Dad sucked on his pipe. ‘The government’s telling us to show a fighting spirit and not let that blooming Hitler see we’re down-hearted. Prices went up in the beginning but I reckon things are about the same now as they were before.’
‘I’ve only seen a Christmas tree with lights in other people’s houses, and in Romford in the town square. We never had a stocking and Mum made sure we didn’t believe in Father Christmas. This year it’s going to be different. I’m doing a stocking for each of us as well as a gift to put under the tree.’
He chuckled. ‘I hope you’re not intending to bring the bikes in, Ellie.’
‘Of course not. I’ve wrapped up a picture of their bikes and am going to put those under the tree.’
She began to collect little items to put in each stocking. Sugar mice and homemade fudge in pretty boxes would do for everyone but she needed different things for the men, Mrs B and Dad. The handkerchiefs embroidered with their initials had been a great find in the small haberdashers in the village. She had discovered a box of small, leather-bound books in the attic and selected one for each stocking.
As Greg had given up smoking there was no point in buying him a packet of five Woodbines for his. If she could knit she would make them all a warm hat but that skill was beyond her. There were suggestions in the newspapers for presents that could be made at home. Somehow a rubber duck made from an old inner tube didn’t appeal, neither did a gas-mask case made from an old cereal packet. A trip to Romford market was out of the question as she was too busy on the farm. Then she found a box of bits and pieces in an old shoe box on top of the wardrobe Mum had used. There were garnet and onyx cufflinks which were perfect for the men and several bracelets and rings. None of these were valuable, made from gilt and paste, but ideal for a stocking gift for Mrs B.
The larder was groaning under the weight of festive food. Not only did they have a goose for the day itself but also a capon and a large gammon joint. Mrs B had been baking like a mad woman and there were biscuits, fairy cakes, pies and sausage rolls carefully wrapped in greaseproof paper and put in tins. It was below freezing in there so nothing should go off.
All three of them joined in with the decoration of the tree. Ellie had to balance on a chair to place the star on the very top whilst her dad steadied her with his hands on her waist.
‘Doesn’t that look a treat, Fred? Ever so lovely, and it fits in the corner just perfect,’ Mrs B gushed. ‘I don’t reckon there’s a better one in the neighbourhood. It’s a shame we can’t leave the curtains open so visitors can see it when they arrive.’
‘Down you get, love, don’t want you twisting your ankle, what with your young man, Jack and Neil coming tomorrow.’
‘Now the tree’s finished, I’m going to start on the other decorations. As most of them are yours, Mrs B, you decide where they’re going to go and I’ll put them up. I’ve got drawing-pins and sticky tape ready to go.’
When the house was finished it looked like something from a children’s picture book. ‘Dad, it seems a shame nobody else is going to see the house like this especially as it will probably be the one and only time. Why don’t we have a bit of party on Boxing Day?’
‘If Mabel is happy then you go ahead and organise it. Not anything fancy mind, just a few folks coming round for a drink and a bite to eat.’
When had Mrs B become Mabel? Everyone called him by his first name, he didn’t answer to Mr Simpson unless forced to. But as far as she knew this was the first time he’d called the housekeeper Mabel.
‘I’ll go and ask her. Why don’t you make a list of the people you’d like to come and then I can start ringing those with telephones and then drop a note into the others. I think it’s safe enough to drive as there hasn’t been any fresh snow for a few days.’
Mrs B was thrilled at the prospect of having a bit of a do on Boxing Day. ‘We’ve got so much food that we’ll never eat it all ourselves, not in a month of Sundays.’
‘Dad’s making me a list of those he wants to invite. Is there anyone you would like to ask? Perhaps some of your friends from the WI might like to come.’
‘Ta ever so, Ellie. That would be lovely. How many do you think I can ask?’
‘Well, there’s six of us and I think that Dad will want to ask the men who work here and their families and probably his three tenants and their families.’ She counted on her fingers and pulled a face. ‘I think that will be about nine children, three babes in arms and ten adults.’
‘This is a grand big house, Ellie. If we use the sitting room, dining room and the room with the piano that nobody goes in, there’s ample room for fifty.’
‘Golly! That’s an awful lot of people to feed – have we got enough for them to drink as well?’
Her father joined them. ‘Here you are, Ellie love, just the usual suspects.’
‘Mrs B is going to ask some of her friends, that’s alright, isn’t it?’
‘The more the merrier. I don’t want you to spend all your time in the kitchen, Mabel. You’re one of the family now and I want you to enjoy yourself.’
The housekeeper coloured. ‘All three of my friends are on their own like me and they’ll help me with the catering. The boys can take care of drinks. Mind you, it will have to be cordial or tea as there isn’t nearly enough beer for everyone.’
‘Don’t you worry about that. There’s still three cases of wine and one of what your mum called, "assorted spirits" in the shed. Jack said he’s bringing a couple of crates of pale ale as his contribution, so there’ll be plenty.’
She was making the cocoa when Mrs B came in with a small box piled high with oddments. ‘I found these at my old cottage the other day, love, and thought some of the things would be prefect for your stockings.’
‘Thank you, exactly what I wanted. With a couple of these in each they will be full up.’ Impulsively she reached out and hugged Mrs B who returned the embrace enthusiastically. ‘You take your drink, lovie, and go up to bed. Here’s your bottle, all nice and hot.’
‘I will, thank you again. It’s so nice having you here. This will be my best Christmas ever.’
There was no need for Ellie to ring anybody the next day as Mrs B and her dad took care of that. She didn’t go to bed early but stayed up so she could enjoy seeing the house decked out in its Christmas finery.
*
The weather worsened and Greg was glad of his thick greatcoat as he waited on the platform for his train to steam in. The station was busy and most people were huddling against the wall in a vain attempt to stay out of the arctic winds that whistled down the exposed platform. Many were dressed as he was, in RAF blue. He wasn’t the only one going home for the holiday.
On the train, he wedged himself into a corner of the corridor and perched on his kit bag.
‘Mind your feet, mate,’ a surly erk said as he shoved his way past.
‘That’s, "mind your feet, sir," to you,’ Greg replied to the Lance Corporal.
‘Bleedin’ ‘ell – trust me to step on an officer’s toes,’ the man replied with a grin and a sloppy salute.
Greg laughed. ‘Are you at Wattisham?’
‘I’m with 110 Squadron, same place as you, sir.’
‘I thought you looked vaguely familiar. Where do you get off?’
‘Stratford, lived there all me life. Was a car mechanic so didn’t take much training to look after
your aircraft. You going all the way?’
‘Romford.’ Greg yawned. ‘Night flying’s a bugger, I’m going to get a bit of shuteye. Could you give me a kick when we get to my stop if I’m asleep?’
‘Happy to. Not often I get the chance to kick an officer.’
Greg settled back, pulled his cap over his eyes and immediately dropped off. He was wakened with a jolt when someone grabbed his shoulder.
‘Next stop is yours, sir.’
The train was already slowing down and Greg had to fight his way to the door through the crush in the corridor. ‘Thanks, Merry Christmas.’
He almost fell flat on his face as he stepped from the train when his left foot slid out from under him. He only managed to keep himself upright by grabbing hold of a snow-encrusted pillar. A cascade of loose snow landed on his head and provided a bit of light relief to the watching passengers.
‘This bloody platform is lethal. Here, let me take your kit whilst you brush yourself down,’ a familiar voice said from beside him.
‘Where did you spring from? I didn’t recognise you in uniform.’
‘I arrived a few minutes ago on the other platform. Neil was already here and has grabbed a taxi. We’ve got to stop at the pub and pick up the beer, hope that’s alright.’
Greg followed Jack and was waved through by the ticket collector without having to produce his travel docket. He strode across and slapped his friend on the shoulder. ‘It’s good to see you, Neil, you look well. A bloody sight better than I do, I expect.’
‘Life of Riley for me – not worth risking our kites on training flights so we’re spending a lot of the time playing cards and reading.’
‘I’ve been flying most nights for the past week. I’m surprised they haven’t got you bods doing the same.’
They piled into the taxi, made a detour to the pub, and were then finally on their way to Glebe Farm. The car skidded violently and the driver muttered under his breath but continued.
Suddenly the cabbie lost control and the vehicle slid sideways ending up stuck in the hedge. For a moment no one spoke and then Jack laughed. The unexpected sound released the tension.
Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2 Page 20