A Wartime Christmas (2 page)

‘Spam’s got no taste anyway. You might as well be eating rubber.’ Vi clattered the gauze back into place unsympathetically.

‘It comes to something when you can’t preserve even the little food you have,’ Kay heard herself complaining. ‘Anything tasty is on ration and there are queues as long as
your arm for the decent bits.’

‘I must admit,’ Vi said with a sigh, ‘I’ve not seen a nice chop since before the war or even a bit of pork cracklin’.’

‘At least the tea is safe.’ Kay nodded to the tin caddy beside the gas stove. ‘Do you reckon the gas is on?’

‘Shouldn’t chance it yet,’ Vi warned. ‘Wait till the warden or the gas blokes come round. There was an explosion in Westferry Road last week, remember? The old girl
turned on the gas tap and the mains was ruptured. The bang was so ferocious it sent her flying out the back door. Lucky she was deaf already and only had a few bruises to show for the
fright.’

Kay felt exasperated as she looked round, gauging the work ahead of her. The clearing up after the nightly raids was not unexpected. But she had never encountered anything on this scale.

Vi inhaled a wheezy breath and gave Kay a quick glance. ‘Good job your boy is safely away, love. Imagine him here in all this.’

Kay nodded dejectedly. ‘Yes, but I miss him, Vi.’

‘Course you do, flower.’

‘I worry about how he’s taken to being away from us,’ Kay admitted as she thought of her brother Len and his wife Doris in Hertfordshire. The couple were well-meaning enough
but had no children of their own. ‘Doris doesn’t have a clue about babies. Alfie was into everything and very mischievous when Len and Doris drove down to collect him last September. I
hope they’ve been able to cope.’

‘What does she say in her letters?’

‘Not much.’ Kay shrugged. ‘Only that he’s filling out, whatever that means.’

‘Your sister-in-law seemed nice enough when I met her,’ Vi recalled. ‘And it was good of ’em to drive here to save you the bother of going on the bus.’

‘Len likes to show off his car,’ Kay pointed out. ‘He’s lucky enough to have a petrol allowance as he works in a specialized engineering department for the
government.’

Vi moved towards the empty coal cupboard and yanked the door open. She unhooked a broom hanging from a nail on the back of it and began to sweep up the broken china. ‘You go and check
upstairs,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘whilst I chuck this lot in the dustbin.’

‘I won’t be a minute. Then we’ll go over to your place.’

‘Gawd knows what state me house is in, as I didn’t have time to cover anything up,’ Vi was saying as Kay left for the front room.

Kay was relieved to find that the fireguard and boarding that Alan had wedged into the fireplace had prevented the worst of the muck from spilling down the chimney. As she had covered the couch
and dining table with old sheets, the room was a big improvement on the kitchen.

But upstairs was a different matter. A chunk of plaster had fallen from the ceiling to the landing, spreading a white coating over the banisters, stairs and the floor below. Carefully picking
her way over the mess, she poked her head into her and Alan’s bedroom where a layer of dust had covered the wardrobe and three-mirrored dressing table. Luckily she’d had time to cover
their bed and Alfie’s cot with sheets and the window remained intact thanks again to Alan’s ingenious boarding. The only other bedroom was very small and so full of clutter she could
hardly open the door. Alan had put newspaper over everything in here. Somewhere underneath were the bits and pieces they had collected together from the markets or had been given by their friends
and neighbours, yet with the onset of war had been forced to lump into one room until such time as they could restore order to their home.

Kay came back to the present with a jolt. Someone was yelling in the street. She rushed downstairs, kicking up clouds of dust in her wake. The front door was open and she ran outside. In the
distance was Vi’s small figure just visible through the mist.

‘Look at me house, Kay!’ Vi screamed as Kay ran to her side. ‘The devils have done it in!’

It was a moment or two before Kay took in the huge black crater on the wasteland next to Vi’s house. It was strewn with debris, a mixture of tiles and rafters from Vi’s roof. Despite
all of Alan’s careful precautions, every window had been blown out and the front door lay in the road. Glass and rubble were everywhere. A flicker of orange flame came from inside the dark
passage.

‘I’ve got to save me stuff!’ cried Vi, lurching forward.

‘You can’t, Vi.’ Kay grabbed her tightly. ‘The rest of the roof could collapse.’

‘It won’t do that, will it?’

‘I don’t know. But you can’t take the chance.’

As Vi choked back her sobs, Kay looked around for help. Where was everyone? The Home Guard, the fire-men or the police and Rescue Squad were usually first on the scene. Suddenly she saw a lone
figure appear out of the smoke. It was Harry Sway, the warden, pedalling his bike as fast he could go, his tin helmet askew on his head.

Harry was panting as he dropped his bike on the ground and hurried over. ‘Are you two all right?’ He coughed, swivelling his helmet round to display the large
letter W printed on its top. ‘Sorry I couldn’t get to you before, but half the city is on fire.’ He glanced across at Vi’s house and gave a groan. ‘Oh, Christ, what a
mess! Is anyone in there?’

‘No, I ain’t had a lodger since the Blitz started,’ Vi informed him.

‘Lucky you was with Kay,’ Harry said with a sigh. ‘Luckier even that the council didn’t have room to put an Anderson in yer yard, Vi. You’d have not stood a chance
with that blast.’

‘But what about all me furniture, me books and photographs?’ Vi whimpered.

‘You know the ropes,’ Harry told her. ‘No one goes into a damaged building until after it’s made safe.’

Just then there was an eerie creak and what was left of the roof disappeared. ‘Step back, ladies, please,’ ordered Harry as a plume of smoke curled up in the air.

‘Oh, me poor house,’ Vi sobbed, grabbing Harry’s sleeve. ‘When is help coming?’

‘I told you, Vi,’ said Harry gently, ‘the CD and Home Guard has been hard at it all night. We’re short of fire engines and ambulances as so many people need
assistance.’

Kay looked along Slater Street towards Crane Street, beyond the empty and abandoned houses. Because of the bend in the road she couldn’t see as far as her closest neighbour’s house.
Paul Butt and his father, Neville, still lived in one of the last surviving houses near the two Press sisters, who had also refused to evacuate. Their yards backed onto Crane Street which had also
taken a pounding as the German fighters had aimed for the areas closest to the docks. Kay turned and her eyes searched in the other direction. There wasn’t much to see there either. Their
good friends Babs and Eddie Chapman, the Suttons, Tylers and Edwards’ houses were all closer, but they too were lost in the mist.

‘There’s nothing we can do here, Vi,’ Kay said as she threaded her hand around Vi’s shoulders. ‘Let’s go back to my place.’

‘Good idea,’ said Harry, picking up his bike. ‘I’ve got a flask in me bag, so at least I can give you a cuppa.’

‘Is there any more damage to Slater Street?’ Kay asked as they walked, not expecting the devastating reply she was about to receive.

Harry nodded. ‘Number two was the worst.’

‘The Suttons?’

Again Harry nodded. ‘None of ’em made it I’m afraid.’

‘What!’ Kay stopped abruptly, wondering if she’d heard right.

‘Howard and Madge, old Mrs Sutton, young Robert who is fifteen and Kevin who was ten . . .’ Harry’s voice tailed away.

‘But weren’t they in the Anderson?’

‘The shelter was demolished too.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ Kay gasped incredulously. ‘I only saw Madge at the shops last week. And those lovely young boys . . .’ She stopped, staring at the warden.
‘Are you sure they weren’t at a public shelter?’

‘We’re checking, but from what has been found, it looks like they was all there.’

Kay felt ill. She just couldn’t take on board that a family of three generations had been wiped out in an eye blink.

‘The Chapmans have lost their house too,’ Harry informed her. ‘But they’re accounted for.’

‘Thank goodness.’ Kay breathed in relief. ‘But I can’t imagine how Babs is feeling right this moment.’

‘I tell you, they were sensible to have gone to the public shelter and they won’t regret having sent their two kids to stay with relatives in Essex. It was hard at the time, but just
imagine if they’d all been at home. It doesn’t bear thinking about.’ Harry shook his head. ‘The only casualty was the cat. I told ’em enough times to get rid of it.
But they never took any notice.’

‘What am I gonna do now?’ Vi whimpered, her gaze vacant as she appeared not to have understood what the warden had told them. ‘I’ve got nowhere to go, nothing!’

‘Have you got your gas mask?’ Harry asked ill-advisedly as he leaned his bike against the wall of Kay’s house. ‘You must keep it with you at all times.’

‘Harry Sway, do you imagine a gas mask was the first thing I thought of when the bombs started dropping?’ demanded Vi, suddenly rearing up. ‘Would I have said to meself, Vi,
don’t worry about putting on yer warm coat and boots and three layers of clothing that will save you from dying of pneumonia in a rotten old tin shed. Instead go and find that flamin’
contraption that neither you nor the rest of the population has ever had the need to wear!’

Harry stared down at his dirty boots. ‘Sorry, gel. Didn’t mean to upset you. But rules are rules.’

At this, Vi burst into tears. Kay led her into the kitchen where Harry pulled out one of the four wooden chairs tucked under the square table. After brushing the dust from the seat, he stepped
back, allowing Kay to make Vi comfortable.

Kay’s hands were trembling as she did so. She was feeling weak and shaken. The news of the Suttons’ deaths had made her feel physically sick. It was the worst tragedy in the street
so far.

‘Harry, have you seen Alan?’ asked Kay, as Vi blew her nose loudly while continuing to glare at Harry. ‘Is he working in this sector?’

‘Don’t think he is,’ Harry replied with a frown. ‘His squad might have been sent up West to help out. Word came through to the ARP depot this morning that the House of
Commons, Westminster Hall and St Paul’s all bought it. What’s worse, there’s hundreds buried under the rubble all over the city. There’s people still trapped as it’s
too dangerous to try to rescue ’em.’

Kay felt another wave of nausea. Alan was in the thick of it and though she prayed every night and morning that her husband would be safe, she knew there was always a chance he wouldn’t
come home.

‘Don’t worry, he’ll be all right,’ Harry said when he saw the effect his words had on her. ‘There’s no one savvier than your Alan. He knows when not to push
his luck.’

Kay hoped so, although she wasn’t as certain as Harry that Alan wouldn’t risk his own life to save someone else’s. He worked in dangerous situations helping the fire-fighting
teams and demolition squads to rescue victims of the bombings. Knowing Alan as she did, she suspected it was his heart rather than his head that sometimes governed his judgement.

‘Well, where’s that cuppa you promised me?’ Vi blinked back the tears and frowned at Harry’s canvas bag. ‘Gawd, I really fancy a smoke too. But I suppose striking a
match is out of the question?’

‘Fraid so, love,’ Harry said. ‘But I’ve got a sandwich if you’d like it.’ He slipped the bag from his shoulder and opened the flap, removing his whistle,
respirator and flask, together with a brown paper packet covered in greasy stains.

‘I ain’t hungry,’ Vi said sourly. ‘The Rosie will do.’

‘You should have a tot of something stronger with it,’ Harry suggested. ‘Got any brandy, Kay?’

‘We keep some for medicinal purposes.’ Kay hurried to the front room to fetch the small bottle from the sideboard. Once back in the kitchen, she added a tot to Vi’s tea.

‘Go on, Vi,’ urged Harry. ‘Trust me, it will help.’

‘It ain’t bad,’ Vi admitted after a sip or two.

‘Don’t worry about nothing,’ Harry said cheerfully as he repacked his bag. ‘We’ll soon have you sorted. The council will see you go somewhere safe for the
future.’

At this, Vi nearly dropped her mug as she stared up at the warden. ‘What do you mean, “somewhere safe”?’

‘Well, you can’t stay here, love.’

‘I’ve lived in Slater Street all me married life!’

‘Yes, but you ain’t got a—’

Kay was relieved when Harry stopped himself in time from repeating the obvious. Vi was in no mood to be told again that she had just lost her home.

‘Well, can’t stop.’ Harry patted his pockets and took a step to the door. ‘Gotta meet the rescue services in Crane Street now I’ve checked on you two. But
I’ll let you know when the gas is safe to use. Keep the flask, ladies, till I see you next.’

He didn’t wait for Kay to reply but rushed out, leaving Vi staring after him. ‘He wants to get rid of me!’ she exclaimed.

‘He was only trying to help.’

‘Well, he didn’t. He put the wind up me instead.’

‘Drink your tea.’ Gently, Kay drew the mug to Vi’s lips. She knew Vi must be in a state of shock. She hadn’t even registered the deaths of the Suttons or the Chapmans
becoming homeless.

Vi downed two more cups of alcoholic tea before allowing Kay to take her to the front room. In a matter of minutes she had fallen asleep on the couch. Kay gently removed her boots and lifted her
feet, her heart squeezing with pity as she saw the big holes in her thick socks. Covering her with a blanket, Kay drew the curtains and, closing the door softly, made her way back to the
kitchen.

Standing quite still, her thoughts went to the Suttons. They had been a lovely young family. Madge Sutton had vowed she would never leave her East End home but had evacuated her two boys. But
Robert and Kevin had taken it into their own hands to return. Just after Christmas, they had appeared on the doorstep, refusing to go away again. Tears filled Kay’s eyes as she remembered the
brave family.