Home Front Girls (30 page)

‘Next week it is then. I’ll tell Paul,’ he answered and they then went on to talk about the plot of her novel – Dotty became quite animated as she spoke of ‘War-Torn Londoners’ and the hardships her main characters were forced to endure throughout the book and Robert listened, enthralled.

The afternoon seemed to race away and all too soon Robert glanced at the ornate French clock and told her regretfully, ‘I ought to be getting back to the station now. Do you think Miranda would mind if you used her phone to call me a taxi?’

‘Of course she wouldn’t. I’ll do it now and when it comes, I’ll go to the station with you,’ she said, springing up from her seat.

‘No, I’d rather you didn’t,’ he told her in a no-nonsense sort of voice. ‘I’d rather you stayed here where you can get down into the cellar should there be another raid. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you because you’d seen me back to the train.’

Dotty went to ring a taxi firm and fetch his coat, holding it close to her as she went back to the parlour, feeling miserable. They seemed to have had so little time together and it had gone so fast, and now she would have to wait for another whole week before she could see him again.

They were standing in the hallway waiting for the taxi to arrive when Robert suddenly took her hand and awkwardly drew her towards him.

‘Promise me that you won’t go taking any silly risks,’ he said urgently. ‘You are very precious to me, Dotty.’

She was so shocked that she could only nod in reply. And then he leaned forward and just for an instant his lips brushed hers and longing rose in her.

‘B-but won’t Laura mind you kissing me?’ she asked him in a choky voice when he released her and he looked at her, baffled.

‘What on earth would it have to do with Laura?’

‘W-well, I thought . . . that is, I assumed that you and she ... ’

When her voice trailed away Robert threw back his head and laughed aloud before telling her, ‘You silly goose. Whatever gave you that idea? Laura and I have been friends since we were children; our mothers were very close. But Laura is happily married as it happens, with two lovely children to show for it. It’s actually her husband who wants to publish your book. Did I not mention that before? He’s an editor in a very big publishing house. The poor man is like me – we’re stuck at home unable to join the other chaps in giving Hitler a pasting. I’ve got this damn arm, and he’s in a wheelchair after a brush with spinal TB.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Dotty stammered, feeling more confused than ever.

‘Ah, that sounds like my taxi,’ he said, looking slightly embarrassed now. ‘Ring me and let me know what time your train gets into Euston next week, and I’ll come and meet you. We can talk more then,’ he promised. Then he turned on his heel and she stood as if rooted to the spot as the door closed behind him.

She heard the taxi draw away before slowly raising her hand to her lips. They were still tingling. Her thoughts then moved on to the wonderful news he had brought for her: her novel was going to be published! She hugged herself as a shiver of delight coursed through her, but she wasn’t clear whether it was because of the kiss or the thought of becoming the author of a published novel. She felt as if all her birthdays and Christmases had come at once – and Robert had told her that she was precious to him. And the way he had kissed her – could it be that he felt something for her too? Suddenly she was so happy she could have climbed a mountain.

Over the next few days, life returned to something resembling normality. The girls all went back to work and their daily routine, and the people of Coventry cleared up the mess and got on with their lives. There was nothing else they could do. But the respite was brief and within days the sound of the sirens had them all repeatedly scurrying for the cover of the shelters and the cellars again. Thankfully each time proved to be a false alarm, although other places weren’t so lucky. Everyone wondered how long it would be before the Luftwaffe came back – and which part of the city would be in the firing line next time.

It was on a Wednesday as Lucy was serving a customer that she looked up to see the lift doors open and Mr P standing there. She hastily took the money from the woman she was serving and placed it in the large brass till then hurried towards him with her heart beating fast. He was as white as a sheet and she wondered what could have happened now. He saw her coming towards him, and taking his cap off he twisted it in his hands as he shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot.

‘Er . . . is there somewhere we could go to talk, privatelike?’ he asked, obviously feeling totally out of place.

‘Wait here for a minute,’ Lucy instructed him. ‘I’ll just get Miss Lawson to cover for me then we’ll go up to the staff dining room.’

Seconds later, they were riding up in the lift towards the top floor. Once the lift stopped, Lucy glanced through the glass doors leading into the dining room before asking him, ‘So what’s wrong, Mr P? Has something happened?’

‘Aye, I’m afraid it has, love.’

When he didn’t go on, she urged, ‘Well, what is it then?’

He sighed heavily before answering. ‘The missus sent for me from work again. Yer know she ain’t so good at venturin’ out since we lost our Freddy. But the long an’ the short of it is, a woman from the Red Cross came to see yer this mornin’ an’ seein’ as yer weren’t in, the missus invited her into our house. She left this letter for yer but she couldn’t stay, so Gladys promised that she’d see as yer got it.’

Lucy looked confused. Why would anyone from the Red Cross be coming to see her? For a start she had been terrified that it might be a telegram informing her that something had happened to Joel, but surely that would have come from the War Department, not the Red Cross.

‘I’m afraid it’s really bad news,’ Mr P said in a small voice. ‘An’ I wonder if yer shouldn’t come along home wi’ me before openin’ it.’

‘Do you know what’s in it then?’

‘Aye, I do.’ He dropped his eyes as Lucy stared at the letter he had passed her as if it might bite her. ‘The lady told our Glad.’

And then suddenly all the strength drained out of Lucy as a thought occurred to her. It must be something to do with Mary, but she was safe in Folkestone and she was going to see her on Saturday. She had booked a day off work especially and had the train tickets all ready at home. She had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Perhaps Mary was ill and they were writing to ask her to postpone the visit? She opened the envelope but when she started to read what was inside it she had to lean against the wall as her legs threatened to buckle.

‘It-it says that they deeply regret to have to inform me that M-Mary and the people who she was staying with were all k-killed last Saturday night,’ she stammered incredulously. ‘They say the unused bombs that the Germans were carrying were dropped on Folkestone before they set off back across the Channel.’

She stared at Mr P appealingly, as if she were begging him to tell her that it was some horrendous practical joke, but the expression on his face told her that it was true.

‘B-but Mary
can’t
be dead,’ she sobbed as a picture of the little girl’s innocent face floated in front of her eyes. ‘I’m going to visit her on Saturday, you see. I’ve got her a new dolly and some fairy storybooks and . . .’ her voice trailed away as she slithered to the floor in a dead faint.

She woke up to find herself lying on Mrs P’s settee and for a moment she wondered why and how she had got there. Then suddenly it came flooding back and she threw herself into the older woman’s arms and began to sob heart-rendingly.

‘There, there,’ Mrs P soothed, weeping herself for the loss of the little girl she too had loved. ‘Our Fred got one of the staff to fetch yer home in his car. There were no way yer could have stayed at work after receivin’ news like this.’

‘Tell me it isn’t true,’ she pleaded, but Mrs P could only hang her head.

‘I’m afraid it is, luvvie,’ she whispered, then blew her nose. ‘This war is a terrible thing an’ cruel.’

Lucy was almost beside herself with grief and when Lucy and Annabelle suddenly rushed in she could only stare at them vacantly, her face ravaged.

‘We heard what happened and felt we had to come,’ Dotty explained as she looked at Lucy with concern. ‘Oh Lucy, we’re
so
sorry! We all know how much you loved your little sister. We loved her too.’

Lucy laughed bitterly and they all gazed at her uncomprehendingly. Perhaps the shock had unhinged her mind?

Lucy then gazed into the fire before saying, ‘You all know that my mother died in a mental asylum, but perhaps it’s time you knew why. It was because . . . because she stabbed my father to death. He was a bully, you see.’ She shuddered as she remembered and the people in the room stared in horror.

Lucy scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hands before forcing herself to go on.

‘I think it was Mary’s birth that was the final straw for her. She’d been ill in bed on and off for years – she was never strong,’ she said tremulously. ‘And one night shortly after Mary was born, Joel saw Dad hitting her and he went at him with fists flying, calling him all the names he could think of. But Dad was a big man, and he started to knock Joel about the room. That’s when Mum disappeared and when she came back,’ Lucy sucked in her breath as she relived the scene in her mind, ‘Mum was holding a knife. She screamed at Dad to leave Joel alone and called him a wicked bastard, but Dad just kept on hitting Joel again and again. So then she . . . she ran towards them and stabbed Dad in the heart. He died instantly. If she hadn’t done that, I think it would have been Joel that was killed. After that, all hell broke loose. One of the neighbours had heard the commotion and called the police, and when they arrived they arrested Mum for murder. She had no life at all with Dad, he had knocked her from pillar to post from as far back as I can remember, and me and Joel too if it came to that. Yet strangely she still loved him, and once she knew that she had killed him, something inside her just switched off. By the time they took her to court it was clear that she was mad, so they sentenced her to life in a mental asylum. That was when we moved here. Joel decided that we needed a fresh start where no one knew us . . . so now you know the truth.’

‘Dear God above.’ Mrs P was so shocked that she had to force the words out.

It was Annabelle who eventually laid her hand gently on Lucy’s shoulder as she told her, ‘I’m
so
sorry, Lucy. But whyever didn’t you tell us all this before? We’re your friends, we could have helped you.’ She suddenly felt very guilty as she thought of the privileged upbringing she had had while poor Lucy must have been going through hell. Her own father had cosseted and pampered her and she was ashamed of the way she had treated him. There and then she determined that she would make it up to him when he came home, God willing, if he ever did.

Dotty meanwhile was sobbing openly. Her own childhood had been lonely, but she had never suffered as Lucy must have and she wished that she could magic all the hurt away. Of course she knew that she couldn’t, but she
could
be there for her and she swore that she always would be.

Mr P too had tears on his cheeks after listening to the sad tale, and for a while he felt ashamed of being a male. It was just beyond him how any man could do that to a woman, especially his own precious wife.

So many things suddenly made sense now. Lucy’s reaction to the chap who had come on to her at the dance hall for a start-off. No wonder the poor girl couldn’t stand a man to touch her after seeing the way her father had treated her mother. The reason why Joel had been so fiercely protective of both Mary and Lucy. At one stage both Dotty and Annabelle had been secretly concerned that his possessiveness was a little unhealthy, but after this awful confession they could understand why. And for the girl to have to carry a secret like that trapped inside; it just didn’t bear thinking about. And now little Mary was dead and they all wondered how Lucy would cope with this new loss when she had gone through so very much already.

‘We’re your friends, Lucy, and we’ll help you to get through this together,’ Dotty promised now and Annabelle backed her up. As Mrs P looked on tearfully, she saw the strong bond that had developed between the three girls and thanked God for it. She had a feeling that in the dark days ahead, Lucy was going to need all the support she could get.

At her own insistence, Lucy travelled alone to Folkestone to identify Mary’s body. She was led into a large, bleak morgue where Mary’s body, along with a number of others, lay on cold stone slabs covered with white sheets. Some of them had name tags tied to their big toes, but others were as yet unidentified. As Lucy gazed down on her beloved girl’s ashen face, she felt as if a part of herself had died too, but she shed no tears. For now, the pain she was feeling was beyond tears.

Mary was buried in a tiny churchyard in Folkestone overlooking the sea. The Red Cross had offered to have her body transported back to Coventry but Lucy felt that there was no point. The little girl was gone and it didn’t really matter where she was laid to rest.

Mrs Broadstairs had been marvellous about the whole thing and told Lucy that she must take off as much time as she needed. Only the people that Lucy had made her dreadful confession knew the real truth and none of them would ever repeat it. Annabelle and Dotty fussed over her and pandered to her every need, but although Lucy was grateful to them, she felt dead inside. She told them her mother had never wanted Mary, yet from the moment the child had been born Lucy had adored her unconditionally. After all, it wasn’t Mary’s fault that she had been born and now that she was gone, as well as her mother, and with no word from Joel, the girl sometimes wondered if life was worth living. It was only the tender ministrations of Dotty and Annabelle that kept her going and she knew that she would never be able to repay them for their kindness.