Home Front Girls (14 page)

‘Have you come to say I won’t be seeing you again then?’ she forced herself to ask, but it came out as a squeak.

‘Oh goodness me, no!’ Miss Timms suddenly looked tearful too. ‘Why, I could
never
abandon you, my dear. I have helped to care for you since you were a very young baby and I . . . Let’s just say I will never leave you.’

‘That’s all right then.’ Dotty heaved a sigh of relief as she looked across at the woman’s face. Funnily enough, she had never given it much thought before, but now as she looked she saw that she wasn’t as old as she had always assumed she was. Miss Timms tended to dress very conservatively and that, teamed with her rather out-of-date hairstyle, made her appear older than her years. But now on closer inspection, Dotty thought that she was probably only in her late thirties at most. Definitely too young to have spent all that time locked away with orphans. But then the girl supposed that she must have had her reasons. Perhaps she had been thwarted in love when she was younger? Here I go again, Dotty scolded herself, letting my imagination run away with me!

‘In regard to your question as to why I left . . .’ Miss Timms shrugged, which made her appear younger and more vulnerable. ‘I suppose I just decided that I wanted a career change. I missed you a lot when you left, Dotty, so I’ve made a fresh start. I’ve started work in a bank and I’m actually quite enjoying it. It’s certainly different to being at the beck and call of infants and young people.’

Dotty was deeply touched. No one had ever told her they really cared about her before, which she supposed was what Miss Timms had just done in a roundabout way.

‘And so what are you doing tomorrow?’ the woman asked now, clearly embarrassed. ‘I do hope that you won’t be spending Christmas Day alone?’

‘Actually, I’m going to spend it with Lucy, my friend from work,’ Dotty said as she poured boiling water into the teapot. ‘What will you be doing?’

‘I shall spend the day quietly at home with my mother,’ Miss Timms responded as she fumbled in her handbag. ‘She’s getting quite old now and she’s very set in her ways.’ She handed Dotty a small package, saying, ‘I wasn’t sure what to get you but I hope you like it.’

‘Th-thank you.’ Dotty took the present and stared at it before asking, ‘Shall I open it tomorrow?’

‘No, you don’t have to wait. You can open it now if you wish,’ Miss Timms told her and so Dotty carefully began to undo the string from the gaily wrapped parcel. The paper was so pretty it seemed a shame to rip it.

Inside she found an oblong box, and when she opened it she gasped with delight. It contained a beautiful fountain pen that looked very expensive.

‘It’s solid silver,’ Miss Timms explained. ‘But if you don’t like it we can always change it. I just thought it might come in handy, knowing how you love to write. I do hope you are still writing?’

‘Yes, I am – and yes, it will come in very handy,’ Dotty assured her. ‘And thank you so much. It’s really lovely. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything so precious and you can be sure I’ll treasure it.’ Finally dragging her eyes away from it, she went on, ‘Oh dear, I’m afraid the gifts I have for you aren’t anywhere near as valuable as this.’

‘That doesn’t matter. It’s the thought that counts.’

So Dotty hurried away and then handed a small parcel to the woman, who opened it with a look of pure delight on her face. I bet she doesn’t get many people buying her presents, Dotty thought, and it saddened her.

Miss Timms showed much the same reaction as Dotty had when the gift was finally opened. Dotty had bought her a pure silk headscarf in lovely autumn colours. It looked very bright and colourful against the drab clothes that the woman was wearing, but she seemed to be over the moon with it.

‘Why, it’s
gorgeous
.’ She ran her hand across the smooth silk with a look of pure pleasure on her face. ‘I must admit I would never have chosen it for myself, since Mother doesn’t like me wearing flamboyant colours, but I really love it. Thank you
so
much!’

Dotty then handed over her last gift, saying, ‘I er . . . made this skirt for you myself. I had to guess the size, so I hope it fits. I’m not the best seamstress in the world, I’m afraid, so I won’t be offended if you don’t want to wear it.’

Intrigued, Miss Timms opened the parcel and then her face lit up again. ‘
You
made this?’ she said incredulously. ‘Why, Dotty, is there no end to your talents? I really love it and I shall wear it for church tomorrow with my very best blouse.’

Suddenly Dotty leaned over and pecked her on the cheek and the woman flushed to the very roots of her hair and became all flustered. And then they both laughed and the awkward moment was gone. Miss Timms stayed for another hour, periodically reaching out to stroke the scarf and the skirt, and when she left, Dotty had a warm glow in the pit of her stomach. Bless her, she thought happily. My childhood would have been a lot sadder, had it not been for Miss Timms. She then settled down in front of the little fire and after carefully filling her lovely new pen from a bottle of Quink, she soon became lost in the latest story she was writing. She was attempting her first novel now and loving every minute of it.

On Christmas Day bright and early Dotty wrapped up warmly and cycled to Lucy’s house on the bike she had borrowed from one of the neighbours. It was no mean feat on the icy roads. Every time she came to a hill she had to get off and push the bike up it, and by the time she reached Lucy’s home her cheeks were bright red and her fingers were so cold they had turned blue even though she was wearing mittens. She wheeled her bike up the entry and into the little yard at the back as Lucy opened the back door with a smile on her face.

‘I was hoping you’d come early,’ she greeted her. ‘You must have heard the kettle boil – I’ve just made a brew. Come on in out of the cold!’

Dotty gratefully did as she was told to find Mary playing on the rug in front of the fire with a new teddy that Lucy had bought her. Even though she had already bought the child her new clothes, she had purchased the teddy bear from the toy department at the last minute and Mary had barely put it down. She was muttering away to it but none of the sounds made sense, and once again Dotty thought what a shame it was that such a beautiful child should be so afflicted. There was a delicious smell issuing from the oven and she sniffed appreciatively.

‘Hm, something smells good. Is that a turkey in there?’

‘It is indeed,’ Lucy chuckled as Dotty took her coat off. ‘
And
we’ve got Brussels sprouts, stuffing, roast potatoes and all the trimmings to go with it. I decided to push the boat out. After all, once the rationing comes in, we might be on bread and water.’

They exchanged gifts. Lucy had bought Dotty a pair of woollen gloves and a matching scarf in a deep amber colour. It was very bright compared to the drab colours that Dotty usually favoured, but she blushed with pleasure all the same when she opened the parcel. She had bought Lucy a cardigan in a wonderful emerald green that matched her eyes to perfection, and a beautifully illustrated book of fairy stories for Mary – two perfect presents. The friends hugged each other.

Christmas dinner was great fun. The girls giggled and gossiped, and made sure that Mary had plenty to eat. But Dotty sensed that behind Lucy’s smile, she was missing her brother very much. Brother and sister had apparently never spent a Christmas apart before, and it must be hard for her, Dotty thought.

Once the meal was over and the table cleared, Lucy made the fire up and they turned the wireless on to listen to the king’s Christmas speech. It was a very old radio that Joel had picked up second-hand from the Coventry indoor market, and it made crackling noises before gurgling into life.

Dotty loved the royal family, and while they waited for the announcer to introduce the king, she told Lucy, ‘The king is supposed to be very shy, you know. He has a terrible stammer, poor thing.’

‘I daresay he never expected to be king,’ Lucy replied. ‘Poor Prince Albert had no choice but to take the throne when Edward abdicated to marry Wallis Simpson, and it must have been a huge leap from being the Duke of York to king. When he was simply a duke he could stay in the background up to a point, but after Edward met Wallis . . .’ She remembered how the newspapers had been full of it. ‘That certainly caused an outcry, didn’t it? I mean, who would think that a king would do something like that? Just goes to show, they’re only flesh and blood at the end of the day, the same as us.’

‘Yes, you can’t help who you fall in love with,’ Dotty remarked dreamily as her romantic mind took flight. ‘Just imagine caring enough for someone to give up the throne for them. And she’s an American divorcée too!’ Then she asked, ‘What sort of man would you like to marry, Lucy?’

Lucy’s face instantly hardened. ‘I shall
never
get married,’ she said shortly. ‘Not to
anyone
!’ She looked slightly embarrassed then as she noted Dotty’s shocked expression. ‘Well, what I mean is, I don’t get much chance to meet anyone, do I? What with looking after Mary and everything.’

‘But if someone loved you enough, they would take to Mary too,’ Dotty pointed out. She just couldn’t imagine Lucy never marrying; she was far too pretty to be a spinster, whereas she herself was so plain that she doubted anyone would ever want to marry her.

Much to Lucy’s relief the announcer’s voice brought the conversation to an end, and both girls listened to the king stammer his way through the speech.

When it was over, Dotty sighed and they sat and watched Mary playing contentedly with her new teddy. She had refused to put it down all day, even throughout dinner, but then Lucy suggested, ‘How about we wrap up and go to the phone box at the end of the road to give Annabelle a ring?’

‘Good idea,’ Dotty agreed as she hurried away to fetch her coat, and soon after they were in the phone box and the operator was connecting them to Annabelle’s number.

‘Hello.’ It was Annabelle who answered the phone and when Lucy spoke she sounded pleased to hear from her. ‘I’m having a dreadful day,’ she complained. ‘Mummy has hardly stopped crying because she’s never been parted from Daddy on Christmas Day before and I’m so
bored
! I shall almost be glad to get back to work – and we still have Boxing Day to get through yet.’

Both girls chuckled as they fed their pennies into the slot and took it in turns to speak to her.

‘I never thought I’d hear you say
that
,’ Dotty teased, and was met with a groan from Annabelle’s end.

‘Well, there’s nothing to do, is there, but eat. I shall be the size of a house at this rate.’

‘I don’t think there’s much danger of that happening any time soon,’ Lucy responded. ‘You’re so skinny you’d slip down a crack in the pavement if you turned sideways.’

Five minutes later the girls came out of the phone box.

‘Poor Annabelle,’ Dotty said. ‘I’m afraid this war is affecting her far more than you or me. We’re used to staying in, but I think she is missing a more exciting way of life now that most of her male friends have joined up. She’s asked me to go to the cinema with her in the New Year to see
Goodbye Mr Chips
and I’m quite looking forward to it. Why don’t you ask Mrs P if she would mind Mary and then you could come with us too?’

‘It would be fun,’ Lucy admitted. ‘And I do love Robert Donat. He’s just so handsome, isn’t he? Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do.’

They then hastened back to the warmth of Lucy’s little terraced house, swinging Mary between them. There were constant reminders of the war all about them, like the grey barrage balloons that floated in the sky above them. It was daunting to know that now only a strip of water divided them from the wrath of Hitler’s army. Rumour still had it that he was only waiting for the better weather next spring before he instructed his army to attack, and the girls could only pray that the rumour was wrong. The alternative was just too frightening to contemplate.

‘Blimey, I thought we’d have an easy day today, now that the Christmas rush is over.’ Lucy eased her feet carefully out of her shoes beneath the table and wriggled her toes.

It was the day after Boxing Day and ever since arriving at work all three girls had been rushing around like headless chickens. There were nowhere near as many customers in the store admittedly, but even so each head of department had had them all marking down goods ready for the January sales.

‘I know what you mean,’ Annabelle answered as she took out her compact and powdered her nose. ‘I was busily working away behind my counter and didn’t notice a customer waiting to be served when Miss Goode swept over to me like a battleship in full sail. She gave me a real roasting, I don’t mind telling you, but how are we supposed to do two things at once?’

‘Perhaps we should all sprout another pair of hands?’ Dotty suggested with a wry grin. ‘It’s no better in my department. There are so many different rolls of material and if I get the price wrong on one of them I reckon I’ll be for the high jump.’

‘I doubt that would happen,’ Annabelle said stoically. ‘We’re understaffed as it is, and they can’t afford to lose any more – though if what Mummy heard was true, then things are going to get a whole lot worse soon. They’re saying that in January all men between the ages of nineteen and twenty-seven will be liable for service. It won’t be a matter any more of them signing up if they have a mind to, they won’t have a say in the matter unless they’re flat-footed or suffer from some other ailment.’