by Tania Crosse
Cissie’s voice had dropped to a whisper, and Mildred sucked in her lips in an expression of sympathy. Her heart went out to anyone who’d lost their home, although there were far worse things, of course. But she considered it was better to keep her mouth shut and said instead, ‘Well, I’m sure the park’ll be the same again eventually. Over there, the fields are all dug up for vegetable allotments, but I expect they’ll be grassed back over at some point. And then there’s the air-raid shelters what they dug out. Not gonna leave blooming great holes for people to fall into and break their necks, are they? There was a couple of V1s landed in the park last summer, but no one was hurt them times, thank Gawd.’
‘Did you get many flying bombs this way, then?’
‘One fell on Price’s. On Jake’s birthday last year. Ten o’clock in the morning. Frightened the life out of our poor mum. Thought Jake or me dad might’ve been killed. But only two bought it, which was pretty amazing.’
‘Two too many,’ Cissie murmured.
‘Yeah, course. Worst we had round here was when one landed up Lavender Hill one afternoon. Nearly thirty died that day. That was last summer, too, only after the one at Price’s. The nearest doodle we had was, I dunno, end of November maybe. Fell on the corner of Cabul Road. That’s only a few minutes’ walk away, so could’ve been us. And then the last one was just off York Road down the other side of Price’s. End of January, that was. Seventeen dead. Terrible. But I don’t need to tell you that.’
‘No. But let’s hope it really is all over now. Feels really strange somehow, doesn’t it? Waiting for the news. As if it’s not real. Especially when we’ve lived with the war for so long.’
Cissie tipped her face towards Mildred and gave a friendly if rueful smile. Mildred felt an easy warmth spread through her. Talking to Cissie was beginning to feel like chatting to an old friend. She was so pleased she’d been swayed by her mum’s encouragement to call on her. Perhaps her mum was right and she was a chip off the old block at befriending people, after all.
They took their time, making a long circuit around the roads and paths in the park. Mildred pointed out where a barrage balloon had once been anchored. Like a blooming grey elephant wallowing among the laurel bushes when it was waiting, half-inflated, her mum had reported. And then there was the anti-aircraft battery on the athletics field.
‘Manned by the Home Guard,’ Mildred explained almost proudly. ‘And they was active when we had them raids last year.’
‘Well, let’s hope all that’s behind us now. I just wish we knew for sure, even if Hitler is supposed to be dead.’
‘Yeah. Know what you mean. And then you and your family can really start a new life in Banbury Street. Actually, we was talking about you all the other day. Jake said Zac’s looking for a job, but you said he needs something repetitive and not too difficult. Well, he and Dad was thinking. Would you like them to ask at Price’s? Something like the night-light wicking house. It’s where most boys start off, so they’d likely be younger than him. But the work’s really easy. Expected to get through a lot each day, mind.’
Cissie’s face lit up optimistically. ‘Sounds like just the sort of thing Zac’d like. And not too dirty, presumably? He doesn’t like dirt. He was conscripted once to work in a factory, but with all the oil and the dirt, he virtually had a fit. So the medical board ended up exempting him from any war work altogether, just as they should’ve done in the first place.’
‘Oh, dear. I didn’t realise he was that bad,’ Mildred sympathised. ‘But he needn’t worry on that score. A bit of wax might rub off on your hands, but no, it wouldn’t be dirty.’
‘Oh, well. Let me have a word with him tonight.’
‘Righty-ho. The woman what’s in charge of Personnel is Gert’s sister-in-law. Been in the offices at Price’s for donkeys has Belinda. Since way before the war. That’s how they met, ’cos Gert worked there, too, once. They was friends and then Gert met her brother and hey presto! Anyway, Belinda worked her way up at Price’s till she was in charge of Personnel. Married but never had no children, you see. Mind you, I’m not sure how long Price’s’ll last. What with gas and the electric more or less back to normal with no more bombs fracturing the mains and what have you. I mean, who’s gonna want candles?’
‘Candlelight’s pretty, though, isn’t it? People will always want it for various occasions. And birthday candles to put on cakes.’
‘Which won’t need flipping pretend cardboard icing once we can get hold of sugar again!’
Mildred chuckled aloud at the allusion to what had become a standing joke throughout the war. Cissie joined in her laughter, and Mildred began to think that she and Cissie really could become good friends. So that when they finally arrived back in Banbury Street and they paused to say goodbye outside Number Eight, Mildred asked her what she was doing the following day.
‘I’m off work tomorrow as well,’ she explained, ‘but all me friends are on shift.’
‘OK. Well, why don’t we see what the weather does?’ Cissie suggested, and Mildred was delighted to see that her beautiful if pinched face seemed so much brighter than when they’d set off earlier that afternoon.
‘Yeah, good idea. See you tomorrow, then. We’ll think of something to do together even if it’s raining cats and dogs,’ Mildred grinned and watched Cissie pushing the pram further along the pavement towards Number Twelve. Letting herself into her own house, Mildred felt herself fill up with pride. She’d clearly cheered Cissie up and felt sure they were going to become good friends, just as her mum had wanted.
*
‘It’s OK, then, if I take some things for me new neighbours?’ Eva asked as she helped sort through the pile of donated clothes at the WVS centre. Throughout the war, she’d mainly been involved with mobile canteens, moving at short notice to wherever they were needed, but she was always willing to lend a hand with anything. ‘Mind you, the way me uniform’s falling apart, I could probably do with a few things meself!’ she joked.
Eva had joined the WVS right at the start of the war. Once the children had gone off to live in relative safety at Gert’s house, she’d hated the idea of sitting at home, twiddling her thumbs. When uniforms had become available, even if she’d had to pay for most of it herself and use some of her clothes coupons, she’d applied for her certificate of eligibility and had worn her official clothing with pride ever since. So it was no wonder it was looking a bit worse for wear as it had been covered in dust from bomb sites and splashed with tea and soup almost relentlessly during the Blitz and later whenever she’d been involved in the results of the flying bomb attacks. But even though she hadn’t taken the best care of it – how others had managed to keep theirs looking so smart was a mystery to her – she felt like the bee’s knees when she wore it, far better than the mere armband that usually had been the only thing available to new recruits in the last couple of years.
‘What did you say their name was?’ the centre organiser asked, ignoring Eva’s frivolous remark. She wasn’t centre organiser for nothing, and couldn’t bear humour, especially from someone like the Parker woman! ‘I’ll add them to my list of needy families.’
‘Cresswell. Bombed out at that terrible business at Islington, poor souls. Only don’t go putting their name on no list. I don’t know how they’d feel about that. Don’t think they’d want to be seen as no charity case.’
‘All right. I understand that. But, Cresswell, you say?’ The organiser’s brow folded into a deep frown. ‘I helped out at Islington. I happened to be visiting a friend who’s the centre organiser for that area, so I went along to help out with the victims. I don’t remember that name. It’s rather unusual, and I’ve got a good head for names.’
Eva gave a casual shrug. ‘You can’t have heard every name, and you know what it’s like in them situations. Blooming chaos. And they was none of them actually at home at the time, thank Gawd, or they’d probably have been killed. So that’s probably why you didn’t hear their name.’
 
; ‘Well, yes, that would explain it,’ the woman conceded, though reluctantly it seemed to Eva. ‘So do take some items for them, but only a fair amount. There are other families on my list, too.’
‘Yeah, course,’ Eva agreed. Her list, eh? Not the list. Eva gritted her teeth as she nodded her thanks and then went back to helping her fellow volunteers sort the clothes into piles according to age, size and gender.
But as she worked, Eva began to wonder. Bridie and her family had always glossed over any details about what had happened in Islington. And yet, if it had been her, she’d have wanted to relate chapter and verse. It’d be human nature, wouldn’t it? And they said they’d been pushed from pillar to post and were glad to have found somewhere permanent to settle, at last. But surely the authorities would have rehoused them by now if they had no relatives they could go and stay with, especially with Ron and Zac’s conditions, and Bridie having been pregnant at the time? And wouldn’t they have settled somewhere nearer to home, anyway? Eva had never been to Islington, but she knew it was somewhere north of the river and she remembered Mildred saying at the time that the bomb was about seven miles or so away. So why had they moved so far? The lack of houses caused by the bombings was probably no worse there than around Battersea, and you’d have thought they’d have wanted to stay in an area they knew.
Or – the thought made Eva snatch in a gasp – perhaps they weren’t on the list because they weren’t actually from Islington at all? Had they been lying all along? And if so, why? What was their secret?
Eva was curious, but she didn’t care if they’d come to Banbury Street for some other reason. She liked them, and she was sure that, whatever it was, it was through no fault of their own.
She would tuck the thought away and forget about it. It was none of her business. She wouldn’t mention it to a soul, not even to Stan. She knew there were some who thought she was a busybody, but she wasn’t. She just liked people. Found them interesting. And she knew how to keep a secret. She’d kept Nell’s for eighteen years, until Nell had asked her to reveal the truth. So she could keep Bridie’s secret, whatever it might be, too.
Eleven
Juggling the baby in one arm and attempting to eat her supper using the other hand, Bridie glanced around the table. Zac, who always had a good appetite despite his lean figure, had just finished his plateful and was drinking down some water.
‘Zac, love, can you be taking Jane so I can eat my food before it gets stone cold?’ Bridie asked her son.
‘Of course, Mum,’ Zac grinned amiably, so totally at ease that there was no hesitation in his speech. He found his baby sister a delight and reached out his arms to take her. He made some silly, gurgling noises at her and she rewarded him with her gummy little smile.
Cissie pressed her lips tightly together. She couldn’t see what the fascination was with this wriggling being that seemed to need attention almost every minute she was awake. Either that, or she was screaming her head off for her bottle. They had the wireless on, although heaven knew why they’d bothered. You could barely hear it from Zac’s mindless cooing and the baby’s tiny grunts of contentment.
‘So what did you talk about with Mildred on your walk?’ Bridie asked between mouthfuls.
‘Oh, this and that,’ Cissie answered casually. ‘She told me more about her family and we talked about the war and this sort of limbo we’re in. Expecting it to be over any day but not believing it until we’re told for sure. You know, that sort of thing.’
‘So you got on OK, then?’ Ron wanted to know.
‘Yes, Dad. Very well. In fact, we’re going to see each other again tomorrow. Oh, I nearly forgot. Zac, she asked if you’d like Jake or their dad to see if there’d be any work for you at Price’s. The big candle factory down the road where they work. Apparently, their sister’s sister-in-law is in charge of Personnel.’
‘A factory?’ Zac’s eyes flashed in alarm. ‘Wouldn’t that – be dirty? Like – last time?’
Cissie shook her head. ‘Apparently not. Not if you’re in the right department. I specifically asked Mildred if—’
‘We interrupt this broadcast with a newsflash,’ a clear, steady and expressionless voice from the wireless sliced into their conversation.
All four adults instantly froze. Cissie felt sure her heart missed a beat and then lunged forward at twice its normal rate. Stomachs clenched, and the world seemed to stand still as they waited. Trembling, alight with expectation. Was it good news? What they’d all been waiting for? Oh, come on!
It felt like hours but was in fact only seconds before they were put out of their misery. Germany had surrendered unconditionally at two forty-one precisely that morning at Rheims in France. The war in Europe was over. Tomorrow was to be a public holiday. Victory in Europe Day. Churchill would be broadcasting to the nation at three o’clock in the afternoon, and the king would be speaking later in the day. And Wednesday was to be another public holiday, VE Day plus One.
They sat. Numbed. Time fractured as the news sank in. The bombings, the fear, it was all over. After nearly six years, it didn’t seem possible.
And then the taut threads began to slacken.
‘Oh,’ said Bridie without moving her lips.
‘O-oh,’ said Zac, not quite sure what to make of this evidently stunning news.
But it won’t change what happened, Cissie considered in bitter silence. I’ve still got to live with it for the rest of my life.
‘It’s… it’s over,’ Ron stated quietly as the news at last began to seem real. ‘At last. After all this time.’
It was Bridie who moved first. ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph,’ she declared, crossing herself. And a few seconds later, she sprang up and cried, ‘It’s over!’
As Bridie went round the table, hugging all her family, relief gradually began to percolate into Cissie’s heart. But if it hadn’t been for the war, she wouldn’t have… She felt stifled and shot out of the room, out of the house and into the street. She needed to breathe…
She ran out into the road. It was instinctive, the knowledge that no motorised vehicle would come down it. For some moments, she stood alone, staring up at the evening sky, turning, the buildings spinning a crazied dance in her head. And then she began to hear muffled voices, as if coming from some faraway planet.
The whirling slowed, the houses slotted into place again as if they had never moved. The voices grew louder, began to make sense, and the world became reality once more. And there was Mildred, running towards her, grabbing her hands and jumping up and down, her face one joy-crazed grin.
‘It’s over, Ciss!’ she cried, waltzing her new friend round in a circle before running off to embrace others, leaving Cissie dazed.
More and more people were emerging through their front doors, kissing and hugging each other, strangers to Cissie and her family, who now all stood on the pavement behind her. But such was the whirlwind of exultation charging through the gathering crowd that it wrapped itself around Cissie’s bitterness and began to drive it away.
‘I can’t believe it!’ It was Jake now who’d taken her in his arms. A man. She wanted to push him away, but he held her tightly, gazing down at her with such elation radiating from his face. Then he lifted his head sharply. ‘Hear that?’ he questioned. And then, raising his voice, he called, ‘Quiet, everyone! Listen. Church bells!’
Neighbours shushed each other as everyone cocked an ear. Indeed, church bells! Ringing out the peace. Cissie listened, too, and then met Jake’s gaze as he beamed down at her again, bursting and ready to release his demented joy.
‘Come on! Let’s conga!’ he cried.
He turned his back on her and, holding her hands so firmly on his waist that she couldn’t pull away, he took three steps forward and kicked out on the fourth beat, yelling, ‘Ah, yi, yi, yi, yi, yi, YI!’ repeatedly at the top of his voice. At once, Cissie felt hands on her own waist and, panicking, glanced over her shoulder. But, to her utter relief, it was Mildred and not another man, and Eva and S
tan had fallen in behind their daughter. In moments, it seemed as if the entire street was joining in, with the exception of just a few who were unable to, such as Ron, and Zac who was still carrying baby Jane.
Cissie was jostled this way and that. But she was dancing. The one thing that could be her salvation. Oh, Jake, thank you. She tried to keep to the simple steps, but it was impossible with the long line lurching, drunk with happiness, as people stumbled about, laughing, not caring, just alive with one thought: it was over. Cissie found herself caught up in their elation as they went up and down the street. It didn’t matter that they were most of them strangers. They all shared one huge emotion, the explosion of joy. And Cissie felt it creep into her own being, too.
The line snaked its way up to the Duke of Cambridge on the corner, then turned round and wobbled up to Stanmer Street at the opposite end, where residents had also spilled out into the road, whooping and shouting with sheer euphoria.
The conga began to break up at last as souls were so bursting with delight that they sought other ways to release their pent-up relief that had waited six years to escape. More embraces and kisses as a riptide of excitement swept through each and every heart. Cissie and her family found themselves being introduced to all of their new neighbours. They might have wanted to keep to themselves, but it was going to be impossible, especially under Eva’s wing! And somehow it didn’t matter any more. Everyone was so ecstatically happy that they were welcomed with open arms, and nobody was ever going to guess at their secret. All had been in the same boat, sharing the same fears, and now they would share the same joyful relief.