Home Front Girls (36 page)

‘Do you really mean that?’ the woman asked incredulously as a look of pure joy spread across her thin face.

‘Yes, I do,’ Dotty answered sincerely. ‘And when we get out of here we’ll shout it to the world and I’ll be proud to tell them that you’re my mum. And then we’ll have the rest of our lives to make up for what we’ve missed.’

‘Oh, darling. You’ll never know what that means to me,’ the woman sighed, but just then there was another deafening explosion and they heard the windows in the house above them implode as the cellar walls juddered with the force.

Simultaneously they both looked towards the ceiling and Miss Timms threw herself over Dotty as another explosion sounded, but they had no time to say any more before the roof of the cellar collapsed in on them.

The raid lasted all night and the people of Coventry faced an inexorable assault of terror as wave after wave of bombers flew over, dropping their deadly cargoes on the city. Finally, at just after six o’clock in the morning, the all-clear sounded and people began to emerge from their shelters to a scene of hell on earth. The beautiful Cathedral of St Michael’s lay in ruins, as did most of the city centre – and everywhere they looked flames were licking into the sky. Sometime later it was reported that the fires had been so severe that people who lived 100 miles away could see the glow in the sky. Thousands found themselves homeless. Water mains and major roads had been targeted first, making it almost impossible for the fire engines to reach or tackle the blazes. Seriously wounded people and dead bodies littered the streets, and many more families were trapped beneath piles of smouldering rubble that only hours before had been their homes.

‘God help us,’ Mrs P sobbed as they looked about them. Mangled water-pipes rose out of the roads like grotesque sculptures and not a window in the whole street had any glass left in it. The whole landscape had changed, with rows of houses in ruins as if they had never been. Thankfully their house was still standing, although they could see a large hole in one corner of the roof.

Mr P rushed inside and fiddled with the wireless until the latest news reports began to filter through.

‘It ain’t just us that’s took it,’ he told Mrs P and Lucy when they joined him. ‘London’s been raided an’ all by twenty-one bombers, poor sods. We took the brunt o’ nearly four hundred an’ fifty o’ the bastards, an’ only two of ’em shot down.’ He shook his head sorrowfully, wondering where it was all going to end, before straightening his shoulders and telling his wife, ‘Well, standin’ here gripin’ ain’t goin’ to do no good, is it? I’m off to see where I can help. There might be people buried under the rubble, an’ the Army lads’ll need all the help they can get. An’ there ain’t much point turnin’ in to work, I doubt there’s a factory left standin’.’ And so saying he went to put his work boots on as Mrs P looked around her home in alarm. The severity of the close blasts had covered every surface with soot from the chimney, and broken glass from the windows was strewn all across the floors.

‘I bet my house won’t be any better,’ Lucy said, gripping Harry’s lead. ‘I’ll leave you to it now and go and make a start on mine, Mrs P.’

‘Aye, you do that, love,’ the woman told her as she went to collect a broom. It looked like they would both have enough to keep them busy that day.

Miranda and Annabelle had just walked back into Primrose Lodge later that morning when the phone rang. Miranda hurried to answer it, aware that they were very lucky indeed that the phone was still connected. Many of the telephone exchanges across the city had been bombed.

‘Hello, is that Mrs Smythe?’

Recognising Robert’s voice, Miranda answered, ‘Yes, it’s me, Robert. Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ he assured her. ‘It’s good to know that you are too. I just wanted to know if Dotty’s OK. I think Miss Timms’s phone is down because I can’t get through.’

Miranda felt misgivings but tried to sound confident as she said, ‘I’m sure she is, but most of the phone lines are down here. I’ve no doubt the girls will be in touch with each other later on, and as soon as they are, I’ll get her to ring you.’

‘Thank you, I’d appreciate that.’

Hearing the concern in his voice, she sighed wearily. It had been a hellish night and during it she had seen sights that would stay with her forever – but when were these two idiots going to admit what they meant to each other? She despaired of them sometimes!

Once she had placed the telephone receiver down she caught sight of herself in the hall mirror and gasped. Her hair was caked with thick dust, her clothes were bloodspattered and smelly, and there were dark bags beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. An exhausted Annabelle had collapsed onto a chair in the kitchen. When Miranda entered she found the girl with her head on her arms, fast asleep.

‘Come along, miss,’ she told her. ‘I’m going to make you a good strong cup of tea and I’ll put the water heater on. Then you’re to have a nice hot bath and get yourself into bed for a few hours. And Annabelle, I was really proud of you last night, you worked so hard.’

‘So did everyone else,’ Annabelle replied ungraciously. Miranda sighed as she filled the kettle at the sink. Thankfully they still appeared to have running water, which was more than the majority of Coventry had.

‘That was Robert on the phone, checking that Dotty was safe and sound,’ Miranda went on, and at the thought of her friends, Annabelle sat up straight.

‘After I’ve had a rest I’ll go and see them,’ she decided. ‘Although I don’t know how I’m going to manage it. I heard the Army chaps saying that the majority of the trams and buses have been destroyed. I suppose I could go on my bike though. In fact, it might be easier that way.’

‘Just so long as you have a rest first,’ her mother told her. ‘You look all in, and if you don’t get some sleep soon you’ll make yourself ill. I’m sure that Dotty and Lucy will be fine.’

As it happened, in fact, before Annabelle got a chance to go out, just after lunchtime Lucy arrived on her bicycle looking pale and worried.

Miranda had managed to snatch a couple of hours’ sleep by then and have a wash and change of clothes, and felt slightly better.

‘Ah, Lucy, Annabelle was going to come and check on you and Dotty later when she’d had a rest. Are you all right, sweetheart?’

‘I’m fine, but I can’t get through to Dotty,’ Lucy told her. ‘And I was just talking to some soldiers on the way over here who told me that her side of the city had taken a lot of hits. You don’t think Miss Timms’s house has been bombed, do you?’

‘I don’t know,’ Miranda said. ‘But Robert rang earlier on, and he was worried because he couldn’t get through to her either.’

‘That’s it then,’ Lucy said as she strode purposefully back towards the door. ‘I’m going over there to see what’s happening. Oh, and could you tell Annabelle not to bother going in to work tomorrow? Owen Owen is flattened apparently, and the police and the Army have had to clear off looters who were sifting through the rubble for undamaged stock.’

‘Oh dear.’ Another shock. Miranda placed her hand over her mouth. That meant that all three girls were out of work now, but then that seemed unimportant after what she had been forced to see the night before, like the tiny baby who had died in her arms. He would never grow up now to ever have a job. It all seemed so utterly pointless – and all because of one wicked man’s greed for power. Adolf Hitler had a lot to answer for!

‘I’ll tell her,’ she promised. ‘But don’t get fretting about that for now. That’s the least of our worries. At least we still have a roof over our heads and we’re still alive.’

Lucy hurried outside and clambered onto her bicycle. She just needed to know that Dotty was safe now and then she could go home and get some blessed sleep. She had left Mrs P to watch Harry and Mr P covering her windows with sheets of plywood, and with any luck he would be done by the time she got back.

As she rode along she tried to avert her eyes from the scenes of devastation all around her, but she often had to get off her bike and pick her way across rubble and smouldering piles of bricks. People were sitting dejectedly on the kerb-stones with the few possessions they had managed to salvage from their ruined homes scattered around them, and the sound of children crying and ambulance and fire-engine bells filled the air. But then at last she came to the Kenilworth Road and she stared in horror at the scene before her. She was covered from head to foot in the ash that was floating in the air from the numerous fires by now, and her lungs felt as if they were on fire too. But even so she spurred herself on until she came to Miss Timms’s house. The roof was completely gone and half of the house was flattened. Lucy’s stomach sank. Dotty had told her quite clearly that she and Miss Timms always sheltered in the cellar if the air-raid sirens sounded, and there was no reason why last night should have been any different. So could it be that they were still trapped down there?

Throwing her bike to the ground, she raced towards a number of soldiers who were digging through the rubble of the house next door and told them breathlessly, ‘Please, you have to help – my friend must be trapped down in the cellar next door.’

A young soldier whose eyes looked immeasurably weary shrugged as he covered the bodies of an old lady and an old man they had dragged from the ruins.

‘We may as well come and have a look then,’ he answered with a nod towards his colleagues. ‘The neighbours the other side reckoned there was only an elderly couple that lived here and we’ve got them both out. Not that it will do them much good,’ he answered sadly.

Lucy knew she would never forget the sight of those broken bodies for as long as she drew breath.

They all trooped over to what had once been Miss Timms’s treasured vegetable patch and looked around them. Half of the house was still standing, giving it a grotesque appearance, and even as they watched, an oak dressing-table slithered over the edge of the floor in what must have been Miss Timms’s room to land in a shattered heap on the rubble below.

‘Where would the cellar door be?’ the young soldier asked Lucy now and she chewed perplexedly on her lip as she tried to remember. She had only visited the house a few times.

Then she pointed towards the area where the kitchen had been. ‘On the left-hand side over there, I think,’ she told them.

They instantly lifted their spades and began to dig. It was mid-afternoon by now and the light was fast fading. Added to that, it was bitterly cold. The men had worked non-stop all through the long night, and now they were so tired that they barely knew what they were doing.

Feeling useless, Lucy suddenly joined in, flinging bricks and rubble aside with her bare hands, but after an hour the young soldier she had spoken to informed her wearily, ‘Sorry, miss, but I think we’ll have to stop now. There’s been no sound of anyone still alive and my men are about dead on their feet. I’m going to get them back to the barracks for a rest and we’ll start again in the morning.’

‘But you can’t just leave them trapped down there!’ Lucy cried, horrified. And then she began to shout: ‘
Dotty! DOTTY,
can you hear me?’ Over and over she shouted until her voice became hoarse as the soldiers leaned heavily on their spades watching her. Lucy’s hands were cut and bleeding by now and she was openly crying, the tears leaving grimy tracks down her cheeks. But the only sound they heard was the collapsing of the damaged houses around them.

The soldiers turned to leave and it was then that it came to them, dully at first but then a little louder.

‘
Help! HELP!’

Lucy’s face lit up as she threw herself at the rubble with renewed vigour. ‘You see?’ she breathed triumphantly. ‘They
are
alive down there!’

The young soldier gave an order to his men and within seconds they were digging again. Lucy smiled gratefully at them and side by side they worked on. It was almost dark when at last they reached the cellar door, and the sight of it seemed to spur everyone on. Finally, they managed to drag it open.

‘Thankfully, the steps are clear,’ the young soldier told them as he shone a torch down into the gloomy room below. ‘Come on, chaps.’ Then to Lucy, ‘It might be best if you stayed here, miss. We don’t want you trapped down there an’ all if any more of the roof collapses.’

Lucy’s hands clenched into fists of frustration as she watched two of the men tentatively moving down the dark staircase, testing each step as they went to make sure that it would hold their weight. Time stretched on and at one point Lucy would have gone down to join them, but another soldier gently held her back, telling her, ‘They know what they’re doing, miss.’

Lucy sincerely hoped so and stood there on tenterhooks as the sound of rubble being carefully moved carried up the steps to them. It seemed that only part of the cellar roof had collapsed, but they all knew that the rest could go at any time and then the two young soldiers would be trapped down there too. But then at last when Lucy was sobbing with emotion, a shout came to them.

‘We’ve found them! Radio through for an ambulance – we’re fetching them out now.’

A young private hurried away to do as he was told as Lucy chewed on her knuckles. And then minutes later there was a sign of activity at the bottom of the steps and the two men appeared carrying a limp form between them. It was impossible to tell if it was Dotty or Miss Timms for now as the body was thickly coated in dust, but as they inched cautiously further up the stairs Lucy cried out with relief when she recognised Dotty’s haircut.