Shed never felt a shred of love for her daughter, the result of a one-night stand with a travelling brush salesman only a few months after her husband had done a bunk. George Tate had been in the Merchant Navy and hadnt bothered to return after a trip to America. Agnes didnt care. George had been a no-hoper.
In her experience, most people were. For the life of her, she couldnt understand folks not wanting a good time. She reckoned it was why theyd been put on earth, to enjoy themselves and have a laugh.
Once it became obvious George wasnt coming back, Agnes set out to have the best possible time. Not that shed been exactly a shrinking violet before, but a married woman had to be careful how she put herself about while her husband was away. In no time she found herself up the stick by a man whose name she couldnt even remember and would never see again. Although shed done all the usual things, drunk pints of gin, immersed herself in painfully scalding baths, the baby had refused to be budged.
People were hazy about when George had last been home and assumed the baby was his. Agnes claimed hed been killed in an accident on the New York docks, that she was now a widow, which sounded better than the truth. Shed stuck to the story ever since.
It hadnt crossed her mind to give the girl away when she was born. Agnes had always regretted it. Instead, shed paid some woman to look after her during the day and got a job in Johnsons Dye factory. This arrangement had continued until Queenie was five, though Agnes had been forced to remove the girl several times and find someone else when the women got angry over the various bumps and bruises on Queenies tiny body when she was brought to them in the morning.
Where on earth did that come from? they would exclaim. Shes such a nice, well-behaved little thing. Theres no need to smack her.
There were only so many times Agnes could say Queenie had bumped into a door or fallen downstairs. The women hadnt spent all day in a stinking factory. They werent desperate for a bit of light relief; a drink, some congenial company when work was over. Agnes resented being stuck in, night after night, with a whingeing child. It was only understandable she give the kid a clout when she wet the bed or refused to stop crying Queenie wasnt all that nice and well-behaved at home.
The incident with Queenies arm had given her a fright. The kid had done something she shouldnt have, or not done something she should have, Agnes couldnt remember what it was that made her give her four-year-old daughter a shove that really did send her flying halfway down the stairs. Shed screamed blue murder all night long, and was still screaming next morning when an angry and exhausted Agnes took her to the house where she was being looked after.
Whats the matter with her? the woman had asked suspiciously.
I dunno, do I? Agnes growled. Shes just in one of her moods.
Ive never known Queenie in a mood. Shes always as good as gold. Whats wrong, dearie? The woman knelt down and made to pick Queenie up, and the kid only screamed louder. Her arms broken! the woman gasped, horrified. Youd best get her to hospital straight away.
But Im on me way to work!
I dont care if youre on your way to heaven, Mrs Tate. Queenie needs to have her arm set straight away. And Id have a good explanation ready for the doctor, if I were you, else you might find yourself up on a charge.
Agnes had had dealings with the law before; twice for being drunk and disorderly, once for soliciting, though the latter had been a misunderstanding.
The last thing she wanted was the police involved. She took Queenie home, put her arm in a sling, and fed her with Aspro, cursing loudly when she thought about the money she was losing. She also lost the next days pay searching for another woman to look after her.
The arm had managed to set itself, but the bones hadnt knitted together properly, so that for ever afterwards, from the elbow down, Queenies right arm faced the wrong way. The sight of her daughters crooked arm always irritated Agnes beyond endurance. It was a constant reminder of what a damn nuisance the girl had been since the day she was born.
Queenie was five, had started school, when Agnes decided to become a barmaid. At least shed have company, could share a joke or two with the customers, be able to dress nice for work, and there wouldnt be a creepy supervisor breathing down her neck all day long. The spinster sisters whod lived downstairs used to put the kid to bed. Both were dead by the time Queenie turned eight, and Agnes judged she was old enough to look after herself and make herself useful around the house. Despite her arm, there wasnt much Queenie couldnt do, but shed never been able to manage the ironing, and the washing was always sopping wet when it went on the rack because she couldnt wring it out.
Agnes took a Players Weight out of her bag and lit it. Everywhere was so quiet.
She couldnt stand the quiet or being alone. If she went with Derek Norris, shed never be alone again. Whats more, she imagined London being the sort of place that was never still. It was probably buzzing with activity right now, even though it was nearly midnight. The clubs would be full, the cafés open, thered still be people on the streets.
Could she leave Queenie on her own? Any minute now, the girl would get a job. It was her arm that had stopped her so far. Shed been for half a dozen interviews, but employers took one look and decided she wasnt up to cooking or cleaning or doing anything heavy. But something was bound to turn up soon. Agnes had done her duty. It was time she thought about herself. Before its too late, Derek had said.
Too late! She wasnt getting any younger, but then who was? Next year, shed be forty. Shed have to get a move on if she wanted a good time. If Derek brought them train tickets tomorrow, Agnes decided shed be off.
Laura had acquired a fear of letters. It was rare one came for her or Roddy, and they were usually about something innocuous, but she worried constantly that his relatives, or her father, had discovered where they lived.
She uttered a little gasp when, one morning in August, she heard the letter box click and the flutter of a letter on to the mat. Approaching warily, she picked it up, hoping it was for the horrid woman upstairs, but the brown envelope was addressed to Roderick Bennett Oliver, and bore the dreaded words On His Majestys Service in black print in the top left-hand corner. She knew straight away that hed been called up.
Sometimes, if he was working nearby, he came home and ate the sandwiches shed made for his lunch. She put the letter on the mantelpiece and prayed hed come today. But lunchtime passed and he didnt. Laura sat on the settee, her sewing forgotten on her lap, her eyes fixed on the letter. What was going to happen to them now? she asked herself, before realising it was a stupid question. She knew exactly what would happen. Roddy would go into the forces, she and Hester would be left in Glover Street on their own. She would get a job, war work of some sort, not only because she wanted to do her bit, but she would need the money.
The matter had already been discussed with Vera, whod offered to look after Hester while Laura was at work. It was all settled and the future looked very hard, not just for her, but for the entire population.
She wondered idly how the War Office, or whoever it was who sent out call-up papers, had known where Roddy lived? How had he been tracked down to this address? Theyd had no contact with officialdom since theyd come to live in Glover Street.
In the middle of her reverie, Hester came in sulking, having quarrelled over something trivial with Mary. The two girls had become inseparable, but Laura had a feeling they didnt like each other much. Hester considered Mary too boisterous, whereas Mary thought Hester not boisterous enough. They teased each other mercilessly over their wildly differing accents, and Hesters exquisite table manners were mocked, while Marys lack of them derided.
Whats happened now? Laura asked with a sigh.
Mary wont let me have a go on the swing. Hester sniffed. The swing was merely a rope slung over a lamppost.
She will when shes had a turn herself.
Shes been on it for ages.
Laura suggested she play with the bat and ball shed recently bought the hard sponge ball was attached to the bat by a piece of elastic. She quite enjoyed playing with it herself.
The elastics snapped.
I can easily mend it.
The idea seemed to appeal and Hester returned outside with the bat and ball.
Laura watched through the window. Her socks were grubby, her frock had a little tear in the sleeve, and her sandals were badly scuffed. Yet she looked happy.
Much happier than Laura had been at the same age. Little girls had to be brought to the vicarage for her to play with, or she was taken to their houses. Shed never been allowed to set foot outside on her own until she was in her teens. At boarding school, a mistress had accompanied the fifth-form girls on their weekly outings to Tunbridge Wells, although being carefully chaperoned hadnt stopped her from meeting Roddy, she remembered with a smile.
She saw a little boy come hurtling along the pavement on a home-made scooter.
Bigger boys, Caradoc Monaghan amongst them, were kicking a football against the grain silo wall. A hopscotch grid had been drawn outside her window. Laura fancied having a go on that, too.
Mary had stopped swinging and was watching Hester thoughtfully. Seconds later, she ran into her own house and came out with her bat and ball. Unlike Hester, who still hadnt quite got the hang of it, Mary could hit the ball in every direction, and began to slam it upwards, sideways, downwards. She was showing off, and the regular thump, thump, thump could be heard inside the house. Hester dropped her bat and made for the swing and the two girls glared at each other, which they seemed to do an awful lot.
Laura sighed and returned to the sofa. Out of habit, she picked up her sewing, but continued to stare at the mantelpiece, at the letter that was about to completely change the course of their lives.
As she had guessed, the envelope contained Roddys call-up papers. He would be joining the Army and had been assigned to the Kings Own Regiment. He was commanded to present himself at the Territorial Army Headquarters in Park Road, Bootle, at 8 a.m. on Monday, prepared for immediate departure.
Immediate departure to where? Laura cried.
A training camp, I suppose. He looked remarkably composed, but men were like that, never revealing their emotions. Inside, he would be as upset as she was.
Not that Ill need much training. I was in the Cadet Force at St Judes. The adjutant was a teacher whod been a captain in the regular Army, so Ive already been fully drilled in the basics.
Mondays only four days away. Theyd never been apart for a single night before. She wasnt sure if she could bear it.
I know, darling. He held out his arms. Come here!
She snuggled on to his knee, determined not to cry, which would only make things worse for him. He was holding up so well. Im amazed the War Office managed to find you, she said in a shaky voice. And why are you being sent away so quickly? I thought you were supposed to have a medical first?
He didnt answer for a while then, with a little shrug, he said, They didnt need to find me, Lo. Ive already had a medical. I volunteered, thats why.
And you didnt tell me! She leapt off his knee and stared at him accusingly.
You want to leave, dont you? You cant wait! You dont care what will happen to me and Hester if youre killed.
I wont be killed, he said confidently.
How can you possibly know that?
In six months, the whole thing will be over.
And how can you possibly know that?
Its only common sense, my darling Lo. Come here! Once again, he held out his arms, but this time she ignored them.
Dont darling me, Roderick Oliver. She stamped her foot, angrier than shed ever been before. You actually want to fight. Youre raring for it. Thats because youre a man and men are stupid. They start wars, cant wait to rush off and fight them, and us women are left behind to pick up the pieces.
Roddy looked impressed. Where did you get that from? You dont usually have such strong opinions.
Oh, go and jump in the lake, Roddy. She went to the front door and shouted loudly for Hester. Two gulls on the roof opposite immediately took flight, and Hester arrived looking scared. Whats the matter, Mummy?
Ask your father. Laura stamped into the kitchen to get the dinner.
Our Billys going on Monday, too, Vera told Laura the following day.
I bet he wasnt silly enough to volunteer, Laura grumbled. Shed come across to Veras first thing for a moan. Vera appeared quite happy to leave the breakfast dishes on the table in favour of a chat. She wore a crossover pinny that had stopped crossing over a long while ago and now barely met on her chest.
Hester and Mary were squabbling upstairs.
Billy wouldnt dare. Hed have got a black eye, if he had.
Roddy didnt even tell me. Lauras brown eyes shone with indignation. He just went and did it without a word. Thats what I find so maddening. If hed been called up because it was his turn, it would be different. We fought all night.
It was our first proper row.
Well, theres a first time for everything, Laura, luv.
He said it was his duty. I said it was his duty to stay with me and Hester for as long as he could, but he cant see it that way. She snorted contemptuously.
I wanted to kill him.
That wouldnt have helped much. Vera leaned towards the other woman and said confidentially, Youll never guess what my Alberts gone and done.
Laura gasped. Dont tell me hes volunteered too.
Not at fifty-six, luv, no, Vera hooted. But hes giving up the trams and going to work in a munitions factory. Mind you, the pays good, though its shift work.
Good for Albert! I want to do something like that, but when I told Roddy, he had a fit. He insists Hester and I are evacuated. He said it would be dangerous to stay in Glover Street, so close to the docks, and I said it would be less dangerous than him going off to fight. She rolled her eyes. We rowed about that too.