As Time Goes By

by Anne Bennett

  ‘Those dungarees really suit you,’ Daniel said quietly, and Connie blushed.

  ‘Well,’ she replied as quickly as she could, ‘I thought, judging from what you said we’ll be doing, dungarees would be more practical than the clothes I usually wear.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll say they will,’ Daniel said as they found a compartment and sat down. ‘It’ll be much easier for you, climbing over the rubble. Anyway, you don’t want your good clothes messed up, or maybe ripped. Your mother might have something to say about that!’

  ‘Oh, she would, all right,’ Connie said.

  ‘Won’t she miss her dungarees?’

  Connie shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘She’d forgotten she still had them. I came upon them a few years ago when Mammy asked me to turn out a cupboard she said was full of rubbish. When I pulled out the dungarees, she was surprised she still had them. Anyway, I thought she’d say they were rubbish as well, but she said they’d be handy to put over her clothes when she was doing dirty jobs. To my knowledge, she never bothered with them again. I only remembered them myself when I started getting ready this morning. And even changing my mind about what I was wearing and having to search in the cupboard to find the dungarees, I managed to get to the station on time.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that. It must have been worrying for you, thinking I wasn’t going to turn up, and on your first morning too. It won’t happen again. You know, I really did think it might be you that didn’t turn up.’

  Connie kept her head bowed to prevent Daniel seeing the telltale flush on her cheeks as she remembered her half-planned retreat back to the library. ‘Why did you think that?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Daniel said. ‘I suppose because you agreed so readily, almost as if it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I couldn’t tell you much about it either, because I only know what my dad told me, or even how long it will go on for – though you and I can only work as long as the Easter holidays last. I sort of thought, in the cold light of day, you might have changed your mind.’

  There was no way Connie was going to admit to Daniel she nearly had done that. Anyway, now they were on their way, she felt her enthusiasm returning and said, ‘No, I’m quite looking forward to doing something so completely different from anything I have ever done before. Something that will actually help people too.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to doing something I consider useful for a change, as well,’ Daniel said. ‘Remember, I grew up not knowing my dad. The first time I met him was at your house, so the war had sort of passed me by. My aunt and uncle made sure the war wouldn’t disturb their way of life in any way, and that included me too, of course.’

  ‘Didn’t they have a wireless to listen to the news?’ Connie asked. ‘Most people who could afford a wireless had one through the war.’

  ‘If they listened to the news, they never did it while I was around,’ Daniel said. ‘Any papers we had were used for lighting the fire before I ever had a glimpse of them. Then your mother gave me papers to read about the first day of the Battle of the Somme, and I saw pictures of the soldiers involved in that battle. A good few of them were just boys, not much older than me. Some were dead or mangled. I didn’t know why this news had been kept from me, especially as Betty and Roger knew my father might have been fighting in battles like that. I will always resent the fact that I was so protected from it all. Maybe I could have written to my dad, or even found something to do to help the war effort. What I’m doing now helps redress the balance a bit, hopefully.’

  ‘I should say it does,’ Connie said. ‘Though you really have nothing to feel guilty about. You were only a child in the Great War.’

  ‘I was nine when the war began and thirteen when it ended,’ Daniel said. ‘Dad said many kids of twelve or thirteen were filling up sandbags. Some went to hospitals to roll up bandages, push wheelchairs or anything else the nurses wanted them to do, and a few were drafted in for fire watching.’

  ‘Daniel, you were away at school! Which is exactly where your dad would have wanted you to be.’

  ‘I know,’ Daniel said. ‘War wasn’t mentioned there either and my aunt and uncle weren’t helping in any way. Children were evacuated, yet we didn’t take in any, though we had a spare bedroom and Sutton Coldfield was one of the safest places in Birmingham, I would say. And there were girls travelling the country looking for war work.’

  ‘Sutton had no industry,’ Connie pointed out. ‘That’s why it was suitable for evacuees.’

  ‘Sutton itself hasn’t much,’ Daniel admitted. ‘But this train goes regularly to Birmingham and travels through Erdington, Gravelly Hill, Aston and Duddeston Manor before reaching Birmingham, and all of them are far more industrialised, with plenty of factories making war-related stuff back then. I’m sure they never even bothered finding out.’

  ‘You’re not responsible for what your aunt and uncle did or didn’t do, Daniel.’

  ‘I know that, but I can’t help it, Connie – I do feel guilty when I realise what a dreadful war, with colossal loss of life, I was protected from. Many of these casualties were just out of boyhood, young men at the start of their lives, so when Dad told me what he was intending doing to help those made homeless because of that war, I decided to join him.’

  ‘I’m glad you decided to do that.’

  ‘Me too,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m really pleased to be here.’

  Connie looked out of the window as the train left Birmingham. Walsall was where the Black Country really began and was no distance away by train. For the first part of the journey the train ran through the countryside. There were fields and fields of vegetables planted in ridges, with little green shoots peeping out of the soil. They saw cows being turned back into their fields after milking, horses galloping in one field, and in another, playful lambs gambolling near their watchful mothers, who continued to tug relentlessly at the grass. ‘The countryside is full of growth and new birth,’ Daniel said. ‘Springtime is my favourite season.’

  ‘Mine too,’ Connie agreed as she watched the countryside flash by as the train ate up the miles. Eventually, the farmlands began petering out and there were more houses, shops, offices and a few small factories and warehouses. Connie watched as the train crossed a bridge. There were canals on either side and almost immediately, there were far more houses, and they seemed very squashed together. In among the streets were some small factories and all kinds of shops and a couple of pubs. ‘Looks cold out there,’ Connie commented. ‘It was freezing in the station. It’s hard to believe it’s late March.’

  ‘It’s early days yet,’ Daniel said. ‘And stations are notoriously draughty places. No doubt we’ll soon warm up when we’re working. I can hardly wait to get cracking.’ His enthusiasm was evident and infectious, and Connie felt her own enthusiasm returning as she said, ‘The more you tell me about this, the more anxious I am to get started on it.’

  ‘Haven’t time to tell you much more,’ Daniel said. ‘We’re coming into Walsall now. Look. See all the disused fac-tories and warehouses? Still sitting untouched, and the war has been over for years.’

  Connie nodded and said, ‘Are they all being demolished?’

  Daniel shook his head. ‘Not necessarily,’ he said. ‘A lot depends on the state of them, of course, but if we can make those buildings safe without too much outlay, Dad said the plan is to turn them into hostels for the homeless people.’

  ‘That’s a good idea.’

  ‘I thought so too,’ Daniel said. ‘Anyway, not long now. Ours is the next stop.’

  As the train stopped Daniel took Connie’s arm, led her out of the station and down the dusty streets to the site where most of the damage was. Arriving at the scene, Connie felt overwhelmed by the gargantuan task ahead. She was astounded and heart-broken at the devastation. How had she lived so close to this, but never really known how bad it was?

  As well as shocked, Connie felt a bit shy, meeting all the others there. But Daniel stayed close by her side and in
troduced her to everyone. As they began work some of the locals wandered onto the streets to see what they were doing.

  There were a fair few children about, with it being the Easter holidays. ‘Those are the ones to watch,’ Stan said. ‘For some reason building sites attract children like the very devil, but it’s not at all a safe place to play.’

  Connie looked about her and said, ‘No I wouldn’t think so.’

  ‘Keep your eyes peeled and make sure they’re not up to some mischief,’ Stan said. ‘The boss has ordered fencing but till it comes we’ll have to be careful. The last thing any of us want is for one of the children to be hurt.’

  As well as keeping a weather eye on the kids, Connie toiled as well as anyone, lifting bricks and wood and shards of glass and the assorted debris from people’s homes. It was tedious and tiring work, but Connie didn’t complain once, the task at hand making her acutely aware of how much the people of Walsall had lost. When a halt was eventually called at the end of that first day, she stretched her limbs gratefully and yet had a smile on her face. ‘I ache all over,’ she commented, ‘and yet I have really enjoyed the day. I feel as if I’ve achieved something worthwhile. I’ll tell you something else as well. I’ve never been in an area blown to bits by bombs before, and let’s just say I like the thought of the miners checking the stability of any structure before any renovations can start.’

  ‘It’s a sensible precaution, right enough,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m sure your mother would agree too, if you were to tell her that.’

  ‘Well, she won’t know, will she?’ Connie retorted. ‘For I have no intention of telling her.’

  ‘I really think you should.’

  ‘Worry-guts,’ Connie said to Daniel with an impish grin. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  That evening Connie felt completely exhausted and fell into bed as soon as she’d finished her hot meal. And the next morning, although she was stiff and tired, she felt invigorated by the thought of the day ahead.

  As the days passed, more and more locals had wanted to know what Stan’s team were doing. Sometimes a cheer would go up when they arrived and others set to and began to help clear the rubble. Now and again women would come out with trays of very welcome tea. This was a town that couldn’t believe they were getting some help at last. Connie was moved by the stories they told her. One young mother’s words really stuck with her. She’d said that though the bombs falling was terrible, just as bad was the aftermath, when she returned home to find that her house was no longer there.

  ‘Everything had gone,’ she said. ‘We had nowhere to live, no food to eat, certainly no money to buy anything, and the only clothes we owned were those we stood up in.’

  ‘We thought the government would step in eventually,’ another told Connie. ‘Thought they’d have something in place, like – some sort of plan. But there was nothing. I had three kids and a husband in the Forces. We took shelter in a nearby church hall and we was just forgotten about, like. I mean, I’m real glad you’re here and it ain’t your fault, like, but it’s taken the government a bleeding long time to remember we’re still here and we all still need things. My constant headache has been, and still is trying to find enough food for the kids. Tears you apart to hear your kids crying with hunger, unable to sleep because of the gripes in their stomachs.’

  Connie was appalled and felt further sickened when she realised that the women’s stories were not unique. Many of the other workers had heard similar tales from others, and she thought, No wonder they are so pleased to see us arriving and actually trying to help. It made everything worthwhile suddenly and she certainly worked a little harder and longer than she had previously. Her respect for her mother, working in the shell factory through the Great War, grew as she laboured on. Her granny had told her she had done it to provide for them all. And she had, Connie thought with a hint of pride, because she couldn’t ever remember a time when she was hungry or cold. She’d always had a warm coat and warm boots to wear, with hats and gloves for cold winter days. Suddenly she felt dejection and a hint of anger that – after a war of such magnitude, when so many, like her own daddy, would never come home again – fourteen years after the armistice was signed, these women still struggled to provide for their children.

  She often went home at night wishing she could discuss this with her mother. She knew she would be interested because, not only was it a time she’d lived through, but Angela hated injustice. And it certainly was unjust to leave those poor needy people to fend for themselves. It really felt as though her father and plenty more fathers had died in vain. She needed her mother to talk to her about it all, and maybe together they could think up a sort of plan to help. However, Connie knew if she told her about the destitute people, it would have to all come out about meeting up with Daniel again. Connie really thought she was a bit feeble not mentioning it, though – especially when she reminded herself that Daniel had already crossed that first bridge and told his father they had met up. But somehow the thought that it might all get pulled out from underneath her – this important work, and the time she spent with Daniel – stopped Connie from uttering the words out loud to Angela, however many times she’d steeled herself to tell her mother the truth. She had to go back, she was determined to finish what she’d started.

  Stan had been surprised when Daniel had asked if he’d mind Connie helping out too. Stan’s reply was that he was more than happy for Connie to help, as long as that was what she wanted to do. Of course, he was concerned about a link back to Angela, but he reasoned that he couldn’t dictate who Daniel’s friends were and that his best bet was to stay well out of it.

  ‘She does want to help,’ Daniel assured him. ‘And there’s something else. I really like her, you know. I’d like to ask her out a time or two. I know how old she is, don’t worry, but I mean, I’m over twenty-one now.’

  ‘And should be able to choose your own friends.’

  ‘Well yes, I should.’

  ‘I agree you should,’ Stan said. ‘And I am not going to police either of you. If you and Connie want to see one another, it’s fine by me.’ Then he added, ‘I’ve never had any animosity towards Connie, but just remember that I don’t want to see her mother, and you must take that on board if you go out with Connie. Any sort of friendship between me and Angela is dead and gone, and you must accept that, as I have to.’

  Daniel was upset to hear his father talking so resolutely about the end of the friendship he had with Angela, but he told himself he had interfered enough by suggesting his father open up to Angela in the first place, and look where that had got him. But he was delighted that his father had agreed that he could see Connie. But he felt he had to tell his father the whole story. After all, Stan was also the Gaffer, and should be aware of the circumstances of those working for him. ‘Angela doesn’t know what Connie has been doing over the Easter holidays, and who with, by the way.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Connie’s afraid she might stop her.’

  ‘Is she likely to do that?’ Stan asked, knowing that if she made difficulties with Connie working clearing the site, it would probably be because she had heard somehow he was involved in it. He thought it was monstrously unfair to involve the children in any problems they had, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Daniel said. ‘Connie thinks she might.’

  ‘Her mother should at least know where she is and what she’s doing.’

  ‘I’ve said all this.’

  ‘And she’s taken no notice?’

  ‘No, none at all.’

  ‘Well,’ Stan said. ‘You can’t make her listen to you and do the right thing. I remember she always had an independent and determined streak in her. Gets it from her mother.’

  ‘So, what shall I do?’

  ‘Let her come and try, and we’ll both keep an eye on her,’ Stan said. ‘And remember how old she is. I won’t tell Angela, never fear. Like I said, I have no wish to speak to he
r ever again, but I don’t want her coming to my door demanding to know where her daughter is.’

  ‘All right, I’ll do my best,’ Daniel said, knowing Connie wouldn’t be likely to listen to his father any more than she had listened to him.

  So Daniel told Connie his dad was fine not only about her helping, but also about them going out a time or two as friends. Connie was glad Stan obviously didn’t hold her responsible for whatever had gone wrong between him and her mother. But she imagined Angela would react totally differently, so she decided to let sleeping dogs lie and keep quiet for the moment …

  After talking to his father Daniel began a light courtship with Connie. They found out a lot about each other as they travelled back and forward to Walsall each day, and in the evening they would go for a walk or perhaps visit the cinema. Once Daniel took Connie to the Bull Ring in the evening. It was now restored to its pre-war glory, with the spluttering gas flares lighting up the stalls like fairy land, and entertainment on every corner. Connie was enchanted by the men on stilts effortlessly striding down the cobbled streets between the stalls, as well as the man tied up in chains, or another man who lay on a bed of nails as easily as if he’d been lying on a feather bed, encouraging the watching girls to stand on his bare, gleaming chest.

  ‘You hungry?’ Daniel asked as they turned away from the stalls.

  ‘Mmm, a bit, maybe.’

  ‘Ever had jellied eels?’ Daniel asked Connie with a wide grin as he dragged her over to the fish stall.

  He expected her reaction. ‘Ugh, no I haven’t, and I have no intention of trying them now, either!’

  ‘How d’you know you don’t like something unless you try it?’

  ‘I just know! They look disgusting. Why would I want to try them?’

  ‘Lots of people like them,’ Daniel pointed out.

  ‘That’s all right for them,’ Connie said, ‘but I’m not one of those people.’

  Daniel laughed and said, ‘All right then. I’ll buy some for me and you can have a little bit to try.’