A Wartime Christmas (13 page)

‘It’s me, Doris – it’s Kay.’

There was a pause before the reply came. Doris’s first sharp words were, ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Yes, it is, Doris. But I wanted to speak to you.’

‘It’s not Alfie, is it?’ Doris’s voice held a tone that said how much she must still care about Alfie.

‘He’s fine, Doris – but – well, he’s missed you. And I – I wanted you to know that. He asked for Nanty quite a bit at first.’

Again there was a pause. Doris’s voice was softer this time. ‘Did he? Well, I missed him, Kay.’

‘That’s why I’m phoning, Doris. Alan’s tried to get hold of Len but hasn’t managed it. So I thought I’d just say . . .’ Suddenly there was the annoying
sound of the clicking pips, meaning that Kay’s time was running out. Luckily she had brought along a handful of pennies and hurriedly pushed them in the slot.

‘Have you got enough money, Kay?’ Doris seemed concerned.

‘Yes, enough for me to say what I need to. It’s been on my mind, the way we parted. We didn’t give you enough time to adjust – you were quite right. It was a rotten thing
to do and bothered me and Alan a lot.’

A little sound came from the telephone and Kay thought it might just be a smothered sob. But soon Doris was speaking again. ‘It wasn’t just you and Alan, Kay. It was us, as well. We
got too fond of Alfie. He’s such a lovely little boy. You must be very proud of him.’

‘Doris, you did so much for him. He still wears the clothes and shoes you bought.’

‘I’m glad it’s . . .’ Doris paused. ‘I’m relieved too that we’re speaking, Kay. There’s something I must tell you. Len and me have talked about
adopting a child. I wasn’t for it until we had Alfie, but now I’ve had that experience—’

Again the pipping sound went in her ear and Kay thrust the last of her pennies into the metal slot. ‘Doris?’

‘I’m here.’

‘That’s wonderful news!’ Kay exclaimed.

‘As I said, at the moment Len and me are just talking it over. We’ve made no final decision.’

‘Doris, me and Alan would love you to come and see us.’

‘I’m not ready for that,’ Doris said after a short pause. ‘Perhaps one day in the future, when . . . when our plans are firmer, and seeing Alfie again won’t be so .
. . so much of a wrench to the system.’

Kay swallowed hard. ‘Yes, I do understand. Doris, thank you again for looking after our boy and I do hope one day Alfie will have a cousin.’

‘Your money will run out soon.’

‘I’ll write,’ promised Kay.

‘Don’t hold out hope for a letter back,’ said Doris lightly. ‘You know what I’m like.’

They both laughed and the pips began to sound. Abruptly they were cut off and Kay stood with the phone in her hand. Replacing it carefully, she expelled a long breath. She had finally spoken to
Doris and they had parted in a friendly fashion.

Kay felt lighter as she walked home. The rift had been partly mended – perhaps not entirely. But then, after all this time she felt that she’d come to know Doris a lot better and at
least Alfie’s stay in Little Gadelsby had achieved something wonderful. She couldn’t wait to tell Alan the news.

That night, when Alfie had gone to bed, Kay told Alan and Vi all that had transpired during the telephone call.

‘I’m glad things are patched up,’ Alan said quietly as the three of them sat in the front room enjoying a cup of cocoa.

‘Perhaps not completely,’ Kay replied, ‘but it’s a step in the right direction.’

‘When this war is over, we should try to see more of them,’ said Alan.

‘The best news of all was that Doris said she and Len are talking about adopting,’ said Kay eagerly.

‘Do you think Doris is ready for it?’ asked Alan.

‘She said it was having Alfie that made the difference.’

‘Adopting ain’t easy,’ Vi put in, pulling her cardigan around her shoulders. ‘At least, before the war it wasn’t. I knew a woman once in Poplar who waited five
years for the little girl she wanted.’

‘I’m sure it will be different now. The war has changed a lot of things,’ remarked Alan. ‘More orphans now than there’s ever been.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Vi, ‘but most people want babies, not kids that have had rotten lives and are unruly when they get them.’

Kay smiled. ‘I’m sure Doris and Len wouldn’t mind what child they had. She did mention babies of course, but if there was a child like Alfie—’ Kay stopped, glancing
at her husband. ‘I just mean, a little boy perhaps, about the same age.’

Alan smiled at her. ‘Our Alfie is one in a million.’

‘I know.’

Later that night when Kay was snuggled up to Alan in bed, she thought about their earlier conversation. What if she couldn’t have another baby and Alfie was their only child – would
she consider adopting another little boy or girl? The thought had never crossed her mind before. Her first reaction was to think that relating intimately to someone else’s child would be very
difficult, perhaps impossible. Love wasn’t manufactured. It came up from inside you without being bidden. The love she and Alan had for Alfie was immense – unending. It was difficult to
imagine giving that same degree of affection to any other child.

Kay sighed lightly as she drifted into sleep. She admired Doris and Len very much. Although adopting wasn’t for someone like herself, she was certain that it was the perfect solution for
her brother and sister-in-law.

It was a mild September morning when Kay and Babs made their way to the temporary primary school in Quarry Street. Kay watched Alfie walking proudly in his new shoes as he
tried to keep up with Gill and Tim who were wearing their navy-blue school raincoats and satchels.

‘Thanks, love, for walking with us this morning,’ Babs said to Kay as the children ran ahead. ‘It’s nice to have company on the kids’ first day at
school.’

‘Alfie was up at the crack of dawn,’ Kay said with a smile. ‘He don’t much care for the coat I’ve dressed him in – the one that Doris gave him. But as it fits
nicely now, I persuaded him to wear it and told him this was from his Aunty Nanty.’

‘Does he remember her?’

‘Yes, I think so. He smiled when I said her name.’

‘I’m glad you feel better now you’ve phoned her.’

‘Yes, I do.’ Kay chuckled. ‘Just look at Alfie, trying to keep in step with Tim! He don’t know what school is, but remembered that Gill and Tim told him they were going.
I only hope he don’t kick up a stink when he has to come home again.’

Babs laughed too. ‘To be honest, I’m a bit nervous for the kids. Eddie and me spoke to the teachers last week. We were told the school is going to practise air-raid precautions and
the use of the children’s gas masks before settling down to lessons. I hope it don’t upset them.’

‘I think it’s a sensible idea.’

‘Eddie don’t! He thinks it’s a waste of time. Gas attacks never happened in thirty-nine and he don’t think they ever will. Still, the teachers, who are mostly retired and
have been called in to staff the temporary schools, are very nice. Mr Barnet, the head teacher, told us that when the warning goes, not to rush up to the school to get the kids. Instead,
they’ve prepared the underground cellar as a shelter. There’s so many false alarms these days we’d be up and down like yo-yos. Still, everyone remembers what happened to Cubitt
Town School in September 1940.’

Kay recalled the day vividly. She had passed the pile of still-steaming masonry, iron girders and wooden timbers melted together in the dust after the school had been bombed. Cubitt Town School
had been used as an ARP station in 1940. The night it was hit there were a good many volunteers having a rest before being called out again. ‘Thank goodness the children had been
evacuated,’ said Kay, ‘but it was a tragedy nonetheless.’

Just then Tim, who was walking just in front, turned round. ‘The Germans ain’t gonna bomb our new school, are they?’ he asked.

‘Course not,’ replied Babs quickly. ‘And you shouldn’t be earwigging grown-ups’ conversations.’

‘Wasn’t.’

‘Mr Barnet is taking air-raid drill with you this morning,’ said Babs, pushing him on. ‘He’ll tell you everything you need to know.’

‘Is ’e gonna give us guns?’

Babs reached forward and tugged Tim’s ear. ‘You cheeky little devil!’

Laughing, Tim ran off to join Gill and Alfie.

‘Ignorance is bliss where kids are concerned,’ said Babs pensively as they followed. ‘As for us adults – well, we’ve seen and heard too much to have any peace of
mind.’

‘Not having doubts about staying on the island, are you, Babs?’

‘No. Course not.’

Kay glanced at her friend. Babs had been through so much; it was only natural for her to be anxious even though she put on a brave face.

When they arrived at the old cinema, the set of imposing art deco front doors that had once welcomed an audience were now thrown open to schoolchildren and their parents.

‘There ain’t much of a playground,’ complained Tim, wrinkling his nose at the few yards of concrete in front of the cinema. Workmen had long ago removed the metal railings and
it looked very bare.

‘No, but there’s a big hall inside where they used to show all the films,’ Babs told him.

‘Can we watch ’em?’

‘If you’re a good boy, perhaps you can,’ Babs said. ‘Now say goodbye to Aunty Kay and Alfie. We’ve got to go in and find out what classrooms you’ve got. Bye,
Kay, see you later.’

‘Bye Babs, bye kids.’

‘Is Tim goin’ to school?’ Alfie asked when they’d gone.

‘Yes, love. But he’ll be home later.’

Alfie watched until the school doors closed. Kay bent down and looked into his sad face. ‘You can go too when you’re four and a bit.’

Alfie frowned. ‘I’m f’ree.’

‘Three in November, yes.’ She took his hand. ‘Shall we go to the market?’

Alfie smiled and nodded. Kay knew the market was fast becoming his favourite place; although there were no longer any toffee apples to purchase at Lenny’s tea-stall, there were always a
few sweets.

The costermongers shouted the loudest as they arranged their vegetables carefully to attract the customers’ attention. As always, the second-hand clothes stall was
surrounded by women, pulling hems and tugging collars; there were still plenty of bargains to be found requiring no coupons that were issued by the government in wartime when clothing was
scarce.

Kay was tempted to join the throng; Alfie needed new dungarees. His old ones were almost worn out and too short in the legs. He’d grown a lot since coming back from Doris’s. All the
clothes she’d bought him were too small now. The brown coat with its chocolate-coloured corduroy collar that Alfie was still wearing might with luck see the winter out. But Alfie pulled her
over to Lenny’s tea-stall.

‘Sorry, folks, we’ve run out of sweets,’ said Lenny when he recognized them. ‘Tell you what though, what about these?’

Lenny searched in his apron pocket. ‘Me missis makes ’em,’ he said, handing something that looked like fudge to Kay. He lowered his voice. ‘Don’t let on to the
kiddy but they’re made of veg. Here you are, take these. The nipper can have ’em for free.’

‘Are you sure?’ Kay took the small packet.

‘I got plenty back here.’

Kay gave the fudge to Alfie. It was gone in a flash.

‘You wanna try making ’em,’ Lenny said. ‘The trouble and strife mixes carrot and sugar, and sometimes apple with a bit of cereal to—’

Kay was almost knocked over as a woman pushed by.

‘Watch where yer goin’, love,’ called Lenny. ‘Yer nearly knocked this lass flyin’.’

Kay looked round, expecting an apology. But the woman had disappeared into the crowd. There was only a man standing by the lamppost, a newspaper tucked under his arm.

‘Some people ain’t got no manners,’ grumbled Lenny and gave Kay a wink as he turned to serve another customer.

Kay looked round again. Something had come into her mind. Was the man with the newspaper the same man that she had seen outside the Pig and Whistle with Alan? It looked like him – she
hadn’t really seen his face, but his height and dress were the same. But if that was really the case and this was the man from the pub, a person who knew Alan, it might mean he was watching
her. But what were his motives? A cold shudder went over her. Kay couldn’t believe it was true. It just wasn’t possible!

When Kay and Alfie arrived home, Vi was dusting the sideboard. ‘Did you see your mates off to school?’ she asked Alfie, pushing the duster into her pocket.

Alfie gave a big yawn.

‘Time for your nap,’ guessed Vi, holding out her hand. ‘Would you like to sleep up on Vi-Vi’s bed?’

Alfie nodded and Kay watched them walk, hand in hand, up the stairs. Lately Alfie had taken to sleeping in the day on Vi’s bed. It was clear to one and all that he had finally outgrown his
cot.

Kay strolled to the open back door, her mind still on the stranger. Perhaps her nerves were on edge and she really had imagined it all. A smile crossed her lips as she saw that Vi had propped
the door in position with the mop and pail. A soft September breeze trickled in. The smell of coal fires was everywhere. People were getting ready for cold weather. The last two winters of war had
been very cold. Kay shivered at the thought of more icy nights spent in the Anderson. Nights like those she had shared with Vi as the bombs dropped close and they’d never known if they would
see morning again. They had been through a lot together.

‘He was out like a light,’ Vi told Kay as she returned to the kitchen. ‘Kay, he needs a bed now.’

‘Yes, I know.’

Vi folded her arms decisively. ‘I’ve decided to find meself another gaff.’

Kay gasped. ‘You can’t leave!’

‘Why not? It’s about time I did.’

‘You’re part of the family.’

‘Bless yer for saying so. But the lad comes first. I’ll try to find a room within walking distance of Slater Street. Then I’ll still be able to look after the nipper.’ Vi
looked away, her eyes misty. ‘I went over to me old house this morning. I had this silly idea in me brain that one day . . . that there might be a chance that . . .’ Vi shook her head
as if in answer to herself. ‘Not with the best will in the world could anyone put it back into shape again. They’ll bulldoze the lot. Probably build flats on it when the war’s
over.’