Back at Primrose Lodge they helped Dotty inside and Miranda rushed off to heat some water to wash in. ‘We shall have to be careful not to get your plaster wet,’ she told her, as she helped her undress, then, ‘Annabelle, run and find some of your clothes for Dotty to wear, would you?’
Dotty sighed as a feeling of déja vu washed over her. Once again she was homeless and forced to borrow Annabelle’s clothes, but at least she was still alive. She was beginning to feel a little like a cat that had nine lives.
An hour later, with all the dirt washed from her hair that was combed out to dry, with a towel round her shoulders, Dotty sat dressed in fresh clothes at the kitchen table with the others, a large pot of tea in front of them – and she said joyously, ‘Now at last I can tell you my news. It’s something really wonderful and you’ll never guess what it is – not in a million years!’
‘So tell us then,’ Annabelle said, puzzled to see Dotty looking so happy. What did she have to be happy about, after all? She had just lost her home–
again
– which didn’t seem to be something to rejoice over.
‘Well, it’s like this . . .’ Dotty went on to tell them about Miss Timms’s confession down in the cellar and they all gaped in amazement as the tale unfolded.
‘That poor woman,’ Miranda sighed as she poured them all some tea. ‘How hard it must have been for her all those years, seeing you almost every day but unable to tell you who she was. Her mother must have been a very harsh woman.’ But not as harsh as life, she was thinking. ‘That’s really wonderful, Dotty,’ she forced herself to say eventually. ‘Now at last after a lifetime of wondering, you know who your mother was and how much she loved you. No one will ever be able to take that away from you . . . but I’m afraid I have some tragic news. You see,’ Miranda’s voice died away and she cleared her throat. ‘You see, poor Miss Timms – your mother – didn’t make it. It appears that she threw herself across you when the cellar ceiling collapsed to protect you, and this brave action meant she took the brunt of it. She was pronounced dead on arrival at hospital. I’m so sorry, darling.’
The colour drained out of Dotty’s cheeks and she looked even paler than she had before, if that was possible. She stared at Miranda uncomprehendingly.
‘B-but she can’t be dead!’ she stuttered. ‘I only just got to know who she was! I can’t have found her and lost her all in the space of one night! It’s not
fair.’
‘None of this bloody war is fair!’ Lucy exclaimed as her heart broke for her friend and then she drew Dotty carefully into her arms and let her sob out her grief as the others looked helplessly on.
Robert arrived in Coventry mid-afternoon, appalled at what he had seen along the way. Ministry of Information vans were touring the streets with loudspeakers telling the homeless where they could obtain food and shelter, and he passed tramlines that now rose from the ground in twisted grotesque metal loops. Everyone knew now that the raid had been named
Moonlight Sonata
by the Luftwaffe and it was clear that they had targeted well, causing destruction. The morgues were full of unidentified bodies and the Coventry people’s spirits were at an all-time low as everyone wondered how they could ever come back from such a catastrophic raid.
Robert had been travelling from London since early that morning, and by the time he arrived he was heart-sore at the things he and his friend Duncan had witnessed.
‘Oh Robert, I’m so pleased to see you,’ Miranda told him when she answered the door. She smiled weakly at Robert’s friend. ‘This is Duncan Fellows,’ Robert introduced him. ‘He has very kindly brought me here because the trains aren’t running.’ Then, seeing her red eyes, Robert’s heart plummeted as he asked, ‘Has something happened to Dotty?’
‘Well, yes, she has been injured, but not seriously. She’s in there.’ Miranda gestured towards the front parlour before ushering Robert and Duncan in the direction of the kitchen. ‘But there’s something you should know before you see her. I’m afraid she is rather upset.’
Once the two men were safely out of earshot, Miranda quickly explained about Miss Timms.
‘Poor Dotty,’ Robert exclaimed. ‘Fancy discovering who your mother is, only to lose her almost immediately. The poor love must be distraught.’
‘She is,’ Miranda said quietly. ‘But I hope she’ll perk up a bit when she sees you. She’s been so worried about you.’
She then offered Robert’s friend a bed for the night and a proper meal, but he politely refused, it saying that he really had to get back to London as he was on fire watch. Robert then saw him on his way, and once he was back inside the house he asked, ‘May I go in to her now?’
‘Of course,’ Miranda answered. ‘And you can stay as long as you like, dear. We have plenty of bedrooms and I think Dotty would be glad of your company during the next few days whilst we organise the funeral. If you can spare the time, that is?’
‘I shall be here for as long as she needs me,’ he said grimly, and after taking a deep breath he tapped at the parlour door and entered.
Dotty was sitting quietly staring off into space and he had to swallow his shock at first sight of her. The bruises and swelling were really coming out now and her face looked deformed.
‘Oh, Dotty . . .’ For now it was all he could say as he looked at the plaster on her arm and saw the state of her. But then she turned her head to look at him and his heart swelled as she tried to smile.
She held her one good hand out to him and tried to get out of the chair to greet him, but he pressed her back down and awkwardly put his arms around her, trying his best not to hurt her.
‘Oh darling,’ he muttered into her sweet-smelling hair. ‘I can’t believe what you’ve been through. I’m so very sorry.’
Tears began to trickle down her cheeks now. She didn’t care any more if he realised that she loved him. She was just grateful to have him there.
‘I . . . I found my mother,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘After all these years of not knowing who she was, I found her – and then on the very same night I lost her.’
‘I know.’ He held her a little tighter, feeling her pain. ‘Miranda just told me. But at least you know who she was now. And you know who you are too. And now we’re going to give her the very best funeral that money can buy.’
‘B-but I can’t afford a big affair,’ she sobbed. ‘Owen Owen was bombed so we’re all out of a job now and all I have left is my writing money.’
‘Don’t worry about that for now.’ He stroked her cheek as he smiled at her lovingly. ‘I shall see to the funeral.’
‘But I can’t let you do that,’ she objected.
‘Shush. We’ll worry about that later. For now I’m just grateful that you survived. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you, Dotty. You see . . . I know it’s ridiculous because I’m so much older than you and you would never look at me. But the thing is . . . I have feelings for you, deep feelings that started to grow the very first time I ever set eyes on you.’
Dotty blinked, convinced that she must be hearing things. ‘B-but I
would
look at you,’ she stammered. ‘I have feelings for you too. That’s why I’ve been holding you at arm’s length, because I didn’t ever think that you could care for someone as plain as me.’
‘You plain?’ he said incredulously, lifting her chin. ‘But Dotty, you’re one of the most beautiful girls I have ever met – both inside and out, may I add.’
Since hearing the news about her long-lost mother, Dotty had been in a dark place, almost as if she was still buried in the cellar, but now suddenly there was light again and something in her heart stirred as Robert gently kissed her on the lips. And when he finally broke away, she smiled at him tremulously through her tears. Perhaps there was still something worth living for, after all.
On 16 November 1940, the people of Coventry’s spirits were lifted when King George VI visited the city to view for himself the devastation caused by the Blitz. He walked through the ruined city centre and there were those that said they saw tears in his eyes when confronted with the ruins of the once magnificent St Michael’s Cathedral.
Along the way he stopped and spoke to many townspeople, offering his condolences and heartfelt sympathy, and by the time his visit was over, they were ready to stand and fight for what they believed in once more.
During the raid, over 4,330 homes had been destroyed and 554 men, women and children had been killed. Some of them were still missing, trapped beneath the piles of rubble, but now troops were drafted in by the hundreds to dig for their remains whilst the Royal Engineers worked to restore electricity, gas and water supplies.
Meanwhile, labourers worked day and night to dig graves for the victims, and on Wednesday 20 November, the first mass burial took place in the London Road Cemetery. Normally a quiet place of curving paths and graceful trees, on this day more than 1,000 mourners attended the service, which was conducted by Dr Mervyn Haigh, the Bishop of Coventry.
Dotty, Robert, Annabelle, Miranda and Lucy were amongst the mourners, as Robert had not been able to find an undertaker with time to do a single burial. Miss Timms would be laid to rest with the other victims of the 14 November Blitz in a plain oak coffin with nothing to distinguish it from the next apart from a small label with her name written on it. They found themselves standing at the side of two deep trenches into which the coffins were lowered side by side and stacked three high, and Dotty felt as if her heart was breaking. As the trenches were slowly filled, the top coffins were then covered in Union Jack flags and people openly wept at such a senseless loss of life. But life had to go on for those left behind, who were determined that they would not be defeated.
Once the service was over, Dotty, Annabelle, Miranda and Robert returned home, while Lucy went off for a job interview at a munitions factory. As she had pointed out, she couldn’t afford to stay at home – and who knew how long it would be before Owen Owen was rebuilt, if it ever was? Each of the three girls knew that they would miss working together, although their friendship was forged now and they vowed never to lose touch.
Back at Primrose Lodge, Miranda offered everyone a sherry. They were all still a bit numb after the funeral, and she hoped that the sherry would revive them. She raised her own glass. ‘To Miss Timms – Dotty’s mother,’ she said, and the other three echoed the toast.
As she put her sherry glass down, Dotty’s eyes strayed to the letter lying on the table in front of her. Shortly after her own mother’s death – Dotty’s grandmother – Miss Timms had left the name of her solicitor with Dotty, asking her to contact them should anything ever happen to her. Dotty had complied with her wishes, calling in at their offices the day before, where she had been handed this sealed letter addressed to her. Deciding that there was only one way to find out what was in it, she asked Robert to open it for her as it was too difficult to manage by herself with only one good arm.
He took a sheet of paper from the envelope and handed it to her, and as her eyes scanned the contents, she went even paler than before. ‘My God,’ she muttered. ‘Miss Timms has left her house and the sum of ten thousand pounds to me!’
‘Don’t you mean
half
a house?’ Annabelle quipped, and Miranda glared at her.
‘And why shouldn’t she?’ she said quickly. ‘You were her daughter, after all, and when this is all over you will be able to have the house restored. It’s wonderful news, Dotty. You’re a wealthy young woman now and you won’t need to work if you don’t want to.’
‘B-but I
do
want to,’ Dotty answered in a daze. It was all just too much to take in.
‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ Robert butted in, ‘because there’s an idea I’ve been meaning to put to you, but I didn’t like to broach it until the funeral was over.’
When Dotty looked at him quizzically he went on, ‘Well, the thing is, Laura was saying that we could do with a new typist in the office and she also said that if you didn’t mind moving to London, you could stay with her and her family for the time being. That would still give you time to write too. You could stay with me, but we wouldn’t want to set tongues wagging, would we? What do you think?’ He really wanted to tell her that he would be only too happy to support her but was afraid of rushing things, and possibly offending her.
‘I . . . I don’t know,’ Dotty murmured, her mind in a spin. Everything was happening so fast, but then what was there to keep her here now, apart from her friends, and they would always stay in touch. If she did go to London she would be close to Robert and the thought was tempting, to say the least.
‘Well, I can’t do much typing like this,’ she pointed out, tapping her plaster cast, and Robert chuckled.
‘There’s no one cracking a whip. Of course you’d need time to recuperate. In fact, you could take as long as you want. You’re hardly desperate for the money now, are you?’ he teased.
‘I suppose not.’ She read the letter again just to make sure that she’d understood it correctly, but the facts were still there in black and white.
It was Miranda who joined in the conversation then when she told Dotty, ‘For what it’s worth I think it’s an excellent idea, although we’ll miss you, of course. But you must think of yourself, Dotty, and at least I wouldn’t worry, knowing that Robert was there to take care of you.’
‘Oh, I’d do that all right,’ he promised.