Home Front Girls (41 page)

Annabelle felt a bit shaky at that thought. It had been fine practising resuscitation and bandaging up people who weren’t really injured during her training, but it would be different doing it on real patients. Still, it was too late to back out now so she would just have to get used to it. And after all, what was there back at home for her now? She didn’t even have a real mother and father; it seemed as if her whole life had been a lie. Feeling very sorry for herself, she followed the other girls to the mess.

The next morning after breakfast in the mess the girls were shown to their wards, and from then on Annabelle didn’t know if she was on her head or her heels. One of the QUARNNS showed her the sluice room and where the bedpans were kept, and her first job was to ensure that all the patients that needed one got one. She found herself blushing furiously for the first half of the morning as she helped the men to clamber on and off them, but by lunchtime she had gone past caring. One male bottom was much the same as another after a time. Then she was shown where the cleaning utensils were kept and soon she was busily mopping and dusting every surface in sight. The Ward Sister’s standards of hygiene were high and Annabelle soon learned that for now at least it was up to her to maintain them.

Mid-morning wasn’t so bad when she was asked to go around the ward with the tea trolley and some of the men teased her.

‘New are you, love?’ one chap asked her with a cheeky wink. He had both his legs in casts suspended from an evil-looking device at the end of the bed.

Annabelle nodded. ‘Yes, it’s my first day.’

‘And where are you from?’

‘Coventry.’

‘Oh, I hear they took a right blast not so long ago, poor sods,’ he said sympathetically. Now for the first time Annabelle was seeing the real results of war, and it was humbling. Here was she, feeling sorry for herself, when half the men in this ward would probably never be able to lead normal lives again. Many of them had had amputations, others were horrifically scarred and burned, and yet they still tried to be cheerful; it was really quite amazing. And then there were the ones whose injuries were not quite so bad. They would recover and return to fight again, and she wondered how they could face it.

‘Phew, I don’t know if I’m on me arse or me soddin’ elbow,’ Hilary complained at lunchtime after making a beeline for Annabelle in the mess. ‘They’ve had me cleanin’ out bedpans for most o’ the mornin’, ugh!’ She wrinkled her nose in disgust and Annabelle couldn’t help but grin.

‘Me too,’ she admitted as she spooned some sugar into her tea. There was sausage and mash for dinner today served with thick onion gravy, and Hilary attacked it as if she hadn’t eaten for a month.

Well, at least the job she’s been doing hasn’t put her off her dinner, Annabelle thought wryly.

When Hilary had finally cleaned her plate she suggested, ‘Do you fancy going over in the pinnace to the town tonight? We could have a nose round and perhaps find a café where we could have a cuppa? It would beat sittin’ up in the dormitory, an’ I overheard some o’ the other girls sayin’ they were goin’. Apparently there’s a hall where they have a dance at the weekends an’ all. That’d be nice wouldn’t it?’

‘I suppose so,’ Annabelle answered unenthusiastically. She didn’t feel in the mood for going out, but then she couldn’t stay in forever, and if the rest of the week turned out to be as hard as her first morning had been, she would no doubt be in the mood to escape for a time by the weekend.

Hilary beamed at her. It seemed that she had skin as thick as a rhinoceros’s, and even Annabelle’s stand-offish attitude wasn’t going to stop her befriending her. Annabelle’s thoughts turned to Lucy and Dotty then, and she wondered how they were faring. She was missing them both far more than she had thought she would.

Lucy trudged home through the snow, looking forward to seeing Harry and getting a few hours’ sleep. After the shop work in Owen Owen she found her job in the munitions factory very repetitive and the shifts had totally disorientated her. It felt strange to be coming home early in the morning when most other folks were going to work, but then she knew she shouldn’t grumble. At least she still had a home to go to, which was a lot more than some people had. The snow that had been holding off for days had now started to fall, and the thin covering on the ground disguised the piles of rubble left by the Luftwaffe’s attacks, making everywhere look clean and bright, apart from the damage caused by the raid of the night before. The results of that were still very much in evidence as firemen damped down the remains.

At last she arrived at Mrs P’s, and after stamping the snow from her boots she entered the kitchen to find Mrs P making the fire up in an old candlewick dressing-gown with her hair clad in metal curlers. Harry wagged his tail as he scampered over to greet her, and Mrs P yawned.

‘Eeh, I’m right glad to see yer,’ she remarked. ‘I hates it when there’s a raid an’ you’re stuck in that ruddy factory. Half the night we were up again, an’ it’s enough to freeze hell over in that shelter now. I even wrapped Harry up in a blanket in there last night. But how are you? Yer look fit to drop.’

‘I am tired,’ Lucy said. ‘But I’m fine. A cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss though.’

Whilst Mrs P pottered away to put the kettle on Lucy’s eyes strayed to the sideboard, which was covered in photographs of Mrs P’s three children, as was the wall behind them, at various stages of their lives. She had seen the woman dust them lovingly every single day since the two younger ones had been evacuated. She must miss them so much, she thought to herself, and once again found herself thinking of Mary. It was really hard to enter her own home now without her and Joel there, but what choice did she have? She just had to get on with life as the other people of the city were having to do.

Thankfully she didn’t have to work that night, so she had arranged to go and see Miranda in the afternoon, once she’d had a sleep. Unless there was another raid, of course, and then Miranda would be at some church hall somewhere tending to the injured or homeless or driving an ambulance. It seemed that there was no job that was closed to women now, and the days of them staying at home to raise their families were long gone. With most of the men absent, fighting the war, the women had been forced to step into the breach – and a fine job they were making of it. It was commonplace to see women driving trams and buses now. A lot of the single women had gone to become Land Girls whilst others like Annabelle had become VADs. And then of course there were the others like Lucy herself who were busily making parts for Spitfires and tanks in the munitions factories. Each job was as important as the next and Lucy was glad to be able to do something worthwhile, although she still missed working with her friends.

After sharing a cup of tea with her kindly neighbour, she crossed the yard to her own home where she fed Harry, gave him a few moments in what was left of the garden, then dropped into bed exhausted and was asleep the instant she closed her eyes.

‘Ah, here you are, darling,’ Miranda greeted her late that afternoon when Lucy arrived at the house. The
For Sale
board was still in the garden but Miranda had given up hope of selling the Lodge now. Few people were willing to spend money on a house that could be razed to the ground at any time. And so instead she had ‘pulled her belt in’ as Churchill had instructed the nation to do. Many of the rooms were shut off now, especially since Annabelle had gone, and Miranda spent her time between the kitchen and the bedroom.

Now she nearly dragged Lucy through to the kitchen as she waved an envelope at her. ‘I had a letter from Annabelle this morning,’ she told the girl, as if the Crown Jewels had dropped through her letterbox. ‘And she’s safe and well, thank goodness.’

‘I had one from her too,’ Lucy smiled. ‘And one from Dotty.’

Her face dropped then and Miranda squeezed her hand. ‘You miss them too, don’t you, pet?’ she asked, and Lucy nodded and blinked back tears.

‘I do, but they both said that they’re going to try and visit over Christmas so that’s something to look forward to, isn’t

it?’

‘That’s if Haslar doesn’t have another sudden influx of patients and Dotty can get a train,’ Miranda pointed out. The constant attacks by the Jerries were soul-destroying for the railwaymen, who were working around the clock to try and keep the trains running. Then brightening a little she asked, ‘And how is Dotty doing in London?’

‘Well, the letter was quite brief,’ Lucy told her as she unwound her scarf from about her neck. ‘But then it would be, wouldn’t it, seeing as she’s still one-handed at the minute. But she sounded cheerful enough, although she’s frustrated because she can’t type. Robert’s bought her a new typewriter and she says Laura has made her feel really welcome. She asked me to give you her love and to tell you that she’ll write you a nice long letter just as soon as her cast is off.’

‘I’ll look forward to that then.’ It was growing dark now and Miranda hurried across to draw the blackouts before asking, ‘Have you eaten yet? I’ve got a Spam casserole and a semolina pudding in the oven, and it’s far too big for me. I can’t seem to get used to cooking for one. You will share some with me, won’t you?’

‘If you put it that way, how can I refuse?’ Lucy said with a twinkle in her eye, but inside her heart was heavy. Miranda was obviously missing Annabelle far more than she would let on, if her pale, drawn face was anything to go by. The girl knew that she worried about her husband too, but there was nothing she could say that would ease the woman’s pain. Only having her husband and daughter safely home again could do that – and who knew how long that might take? The newspapers were still full of doom and gloom and the war seemed to be intensifying, if anything.

‘Are you going to get a Christmas tree this year?’ Lucy asked, hoping to lift the mood a little.

Miranda shrugged. ‘I can’t see much point, to be honest. The money could be better spent on other things at present and on Christmas Day I’ll go over to visit my parents so I won’t be here that much to see it. I might try to find some holly though, just to perk the place up a bit in case Annabelle does manage to get home. What are you planning to do?’

‘I shall spend it with Mr and Mrs P.’ Lucy fetched the tablecloth and spread it across the table. She had visited so many times now that she knew where everything was and didn’t need to be asked.

‘It would be nice to get an unbroken night’s sleep for a change, wouldn’t it?’ Miranda yawned when they’d finished their meal. ‘It’s not just us copping it now though. London is being hit pretty badly too, according to the papers. I just wonder if Dotty is safe, that’s all.’

‘Well, she’s got Robert to look out for her now,’ Lucy said. ‘I just hope those two make a go of it, as they obviously think the world of each other. I reckon Dotty used to believe that she wasn’t good enough for him, but Miss Timms has changed all that, bless her. Now Dotty knows that she came from a good family and she’s a fairly wealthy young woman in her own right, she may have a little more confidence in herself from now on.’

‘And what about you, darling?’ Miranda smiled at her gently. ‘When are you going to put the past behind you and look around for a nice young man? You can’t let what happened between your mother and father spoil your life too. Not all men are like your father.’

‘I don’t need a man to make me happy. I’ve got Harry,’ Lucy retorted immediately. ‘And once Joel comes home we won’t need anyone else.’

‘I shouldn’t be too sure about that,’ Miranda told her worriedly. ‘If I remember rightly, Joel and Annabelle seemed to be quite attracted to each other before he went away, so the chances are that even if they don’t get together he’ll meet a girl eventually and want to lead his own life.’ When Lucy’s face fell, she hurried on, ‘That doesn’t mean to say that he won’t still care about you. Of course he will! You are his sister and you’ll always be important to him – but both of you are too young to face a life alone.’

‘We’ll see,’ Lucy sniffed haughtily, and realising that she had inadvertently upset the girl, Miranda hastily changed the subject and got back on to safer ground. Lucy was always as prickly as a porcupine, when her family were mentioned, and Miranda vowed that she wouldn’t speak about them again. When she came to think about it, Lucy was becoming increasingly withdrawn and touchy, but then it was to be expected. What with no word from Joel, losing her mother and then her little sister, it was hardly surprising that the girl wasn’t a ray of sunshine. Miranda suppressed a shudder as she thought back to the secret Lucy had shared with them. It must be very hard for her, coming to terms with the fact that her mother had been a murderer. Even so, as far as Miranda was concerned, none of it was the girl’s fault and she wished she could shake her out of her melancholy. Miranda thought of her own daughter then and the traumatic impact on her of the secret she had kept from her for all these years. Poor Annabelle. She seemed to be floundering, not knowing who she was any more. And then there was Dotty, torn between being thrilled to finally discover who her mother was, and anger at losing her so quickly.

All three of the girls had an awful lot to come to terms with, Miranda concluded, and sadly, they were all going to have to work out their problems for themselves. No one else could do it for them.

‘Don’t look so glum, Dotty,’ Laura said bracingly after she had returned from taking her children to school. ‘It won’t be long now and your plaster will be off, then you’ll be able to get cracking on your writing again.’