Home Front Girls (42 page)

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a moaning minnie. It’s just that I get so frustrated at only being able to use one arm,’ Dotty apologised.

‘I can understand that. I know Paul has his moments, being stuck in that wheelchair, and I dare say I would be just the same,’ Laura answered sympathetically as she straightened the cushions on the settee. ‘But why don’t you just relax this morning? You could listen to some music on the wireless or read. As it happens, I’m only doing half a day in the office today so how about we go and do a bit of Christmas shopping this afternoon?’

Dotty instantly brightened. ‘I’d like that. I need to get something for Annabelle and her mum – and Lucy, of course. Robert is going to come with me back to Coventry one day next week so that I can see them all before Christmas – if Annabelle manages to get home, of course, but I hope she will.’

‘Hmm, I can imagine the nurses are being kept very busy with all the raids we’re having.’ Laura paused in the act of pinning her hat on.

Dotty couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she replied, ‘Actually, from what I can make out in her letters, the poor thing hasn’t been doing much actual nursing. It sounds like all she’s done up to now is clean the wards and empty bedpans. The nearest she’s got to proper nursing was being allowed to roll bandages when they had a bit of spare time. I just can’t imagine her doing menial and mucky jobs like that somehow. She was always so fastidious.’

‘Well, someone has to do it,’ Laura pointed out. ‘And keeping up the standards of hygiene in a hospital is as important as doing the actual nursing. I’ve no doubt she’ll be able to do more with the patients eventually. But will she be staying at Haslar? I know a lot of VADs have been shipped abroad to nurse the troops.’

‘She hasn’t said anything about a move,’ Dotty shrugged, then, ‘Is there anything I can do for you this morning while you’re at work? One-handed, that is.’

Laura chuckled as she fastened her coat. ‘Nothing at all. The cleaning lady will be in as usual, so you just relax. I’m sure Robert said he was dropping by to see you on his way into work so that will break the morning up for you. Bye for now.’

And with that she went off, leaving Dotty to pace the floor like a caged animal and curse her broken arm. She had never realised before how frustrating it must be for the men who had lost limbs in the war, and she felt guilty for complaining. After all, she was only temporarily incapacitated. They would have to learn to live with their disabilities for the rest of their lives. Annabelle had written to tell her horror stories about some of the men on the wards and Dotty felt tearful every time she thought of them, poor things.

Now she tried to think more cheerful thoughts, and first on the list was her visit to Coventry. She had really missed her friends, even though Laura and Paul had made her feel more than welcome. Laura’s children were adorable too. Simon was seven and a real little imp, always up to mischief, but lovable with it, and his five-year-old sister Elizabeth, affectionately known as Lizzie, was a real little sweetheart, never happier than when Dotty was reading her a story.

Her stay with the Parsons family in Whitechapel had been a time of adjustment for Dotty. Leaving her home town had not been easy, and discovering who her birth mother was had been a bittersweet experience. After all the years of dreaming, she had finally found her mother, but the chance for them to really get to know each other on this new, more intimate footing, had been cruelly snatched away from her. And then there was Robert and her admission of the love she felt for him. He had made it more than clear that he felt the same way about her, but was too much of a gentleman to rush things. With his inbuilt sensitivity, he was happy to give Dotty time to come to terms with everything that had happened.

As in Coventry, the spirits of the people of London were low. It seemed that the war was escalating, with the German forces dominating and Dotty wondered where it was all going to end. Her broody thoughts were interrupted then as Mrs Wiggins, Laura’s daily help, breezed into the room wielding a tin of wax polish and a large yellow duster.

‘’Ello, me owld duck,’ she said cheerfully and Dotty instantly perked up. No one could stay sad around Ada Wiggins for long. Born and bred within the sound of Bow bells and proud of it, she was like a ray of sunshine. She was short and plump with a wicked sense of humour, and Dotty had taken to her at first sight. Today Mrs Wiggins was clad in her customary flowered wraparound apron and she had a headsquare tied turban-like around her steel-grey hair with one metal curler sitting on her forehead. Sometimes she put Dotty in mind of Mrs P. A Woodbine dangled from the corner of her mouth, something she wouldn’t have dared do had Laura been at home. But she had already sussed that Dotty could be trusted not to tell on her. Her husband, Jim, worked on the London docks and her family were all grown and long flown the nest. ‘I don’t really need to work,’ she had confided to Dotty shortly after the girl had arrived there, ‘but it gives me a bit o’ pin money to do as I like wiv, which is no bad fing is it, dearie?’

‘Absolutely not,’ Dotty had agreed, trying hard to keep a straight face, and their friendship had grown from there. The woman fussed over Dotty like a little round mother hen. It soon transpired that Mrs Wiggins had worked for Laura for years and they thought the world of each other, which was hardly surprising as the housekeeper kept the house clean as a new pin with never a word of complaint. She would even meet the children from school if Laura was tied up in the office, and then she would look after them till their mother or father arrived home. She had told Dotty that the children had been evacuated to a small village in Kent earlier in the war, but they had pined for their parents so badly that Laura had eventually brought them both home, much to Mrs Wiggins’ relief. Now Mrs Wiggins spoiled them both shamelessly.

‘She has this knack of being able to conjure a meal up from almost nothing,’ Laura confided to Dotty one day. By her own admission, Laura had never enjoyed cooking, so the meals Mrs Wiggins regularly prepared for the family were more than welcome.

Now she dusted her way across the sideboard before asking, ‘How long’s it been since you ’ad a warm drink, dearie? Or per’aps I could tempt you to a bit o’ somefink to eat? You ain’t as far through as a stick o’ celery.’

Dotty chuckled at Ada’s attempts to feed her up as she watched the postman walking up the path through the snow-white net curtains. The post was very hit and miss nowadays, and she wondered if he would have anything for her. ‘I’m fine for now, thanks.’ She smiled at the woman then hurried into the hall to retrieve the letters from the letterbox. It was no easy task with only one hand but eventually she came to one with her name on and instantly recognised Mr Jenkins’s stamp. He had written to her often since she had come to London, keeping her informed of what was happening about her late mother’s estate, so now she took the envelope into Mrs Wiggins and asked, ‘Would you mind opening this for me, please? It’s rather awkward with only one hand.’

‘Course I will, ducks,’ Mrs Wiggins said obligingly and she did as she was asked before handing the letter inside to Dotty and waddling off towards the kitchen. ‘I’m goin’ to fetch some more coal in an’ get these fires made up,’ she told her. ‘It’s like the bloody Arctic in ’ere. Almost as cold as me muvver-in-law’s heart.’

Dotty guessed that the dear woman was really just looking for an excuse to leave her to read her letter in private.

The letter began:
Dear Dorothy, I hope this letter finds you well and settling happily in London. I am writing to update you on the current position of your late mother’s, Alice Louise Timms’s, estate.

Dotty felt her legs go all wobbly. Surprisingly she had never known the woman’s Christian names before. To her, she had always been simply ‘Miss Timms’. Now that she did know them, it somehow made her mother feel more real.
Alice
– it was such a pretty name and Dotty wondered why she had never tried to find out what it was before. The rest of the letter just went on to tell her how much longer it might be before her inheritance was wholly signed over to her. Mr Jenkins also asked if she was still all right for funds and told her to contact him immediately should she need more. He then ended the letter by wishing her a very Merry Christmas, and wrote that he was looking forward to seeing her again in the New Year when they could finalise the transfer of Miss Timms’s estate into her name.

Dotty sighed as she awkwardly folded the letter and poked it back into the envelope. Mr Jenkins really had been remarkably kind and helpful, considering he had never met her before. But then she supposed he was used to dealing with people who found themselves in her position. She glanced at the clock then before moving to the window. Robert should be here soon and as always she waited for a glimpse of him.

‘I have to say it isn’t easy buying presents with the strict rationing in force, although thankfully I did manage to get some toys for the children,’ Laura remarked just before one o’clock that afternoon as they shopped in the Strand. Oxford Street had been heavily bombed in the Blitz. ‘I know most people have resorted to knitting and sewing presents for their nearest and dearest, but I’m afraid I’ve never been much good at that sort of thing,’ she giggled. ‘I’m not much of a cook either, as you know, so I sometimes wonder what my Paul ever saw in me.’

‘I imagine he saw what everyone else sees,’ Dotty told her. ‘A kind, beautiful woman who would turn out to be a wonderful wife and mother. And clever too. You keep the magazine running like clockwork. I don’t know how you do it, but I do know Robert would be lost without you. He’s always singing your praises.’

Laura blushed at the compliment before asking, ‘How are we doing on the present front anyway?’

‘Well, I got some lavender bath salts for Miranda, a pretty hat for Lucy, and some perfume for Annabelle. I just have to get something for Robert now. Do you have any suggestions?’ She had already bought presents for Laura and her family the week before when she had gone shopping with Robert, but she didn’t mention that, of course. The gifts were safely hidden away in her room.

‘Hmm.’ Laura tapped her lip thoughtfully with her gloved finger before suggesting, ‘How about a nice scarf for him?’

Dotty pulled a face. It didn’t seem like much of a gift considering all he did for her, and she could easily afford something more expensive with the allowance Mr Jenkins had forwarded to her.

‘I know,’ she said suddenly as an idea popped into her head. ‘How about a pen? A really nice pen, I mean. One that he could keep.’ She thought regretfully of the one that her mother had bought for her, now buried beneath tons of rubble and lost forever.

‘I think he’d love that,’ Laura said, and taking Dotty’s elbow she propelled her in the direction of a shop where she had a feeling she would find just what she was looking for.

An hour later they caught a bus to Liverpool Street, and from there walked home feeling content with their purchases. Dotty had bought Robert a solid silver fountain pen and could hardly wait for Christmas morning when she could give it to him. Back indoors, they drank a pot of tea before Laura rushed off to fetch the children from school.

‘An’ what are you plannin’ on doin’ tonight then?’ Ada Wiggins asked as she cleared the dirty dishes into the sink.

‘Robert is taking me to the Finsbury Park Empire to see Max Miller, the Cheeky Chappie, and I was wondering if you’d mind helping me wash my hair again, please, Mrs Wiggins?’

‘O’ course I don’t mind,’ the woman told her cheerily. ‘We ’ave to ’ave you lookin’ yer best. I must say I’m quite envious. I do like Max Miller meself an’ they reckon it’s a grand show, but you wouldn’t get my old man to anyfink like that, not if ’e was under threat of death. Let’s just ’ope Jerry stays away, eh? We don’t want no raids to spoil it fer you.’ She then scurried off to put the kettle on for some hot water and an hour later Dotty sat by the fire as the woman rubbed at her hair with a towel.

Robert arrived promptly at seven o’clock in a taxi to pick her up and as they drove towards the theatre he whispered, ‘You’re looking really lovely tonight, Dotty.’

She blushed furiously. She was still not used to compliments and never quite knew how to respond to them.

‘I er . . . was wondering if you still think we might be able to get back to Coventry for a brief visit before Christmas?’ she asked hopefully, keen to change the subject.

‘Actually I was thinking the day after tomorrow, the day before Christmas Eve, if that suits you?’ Robert was pleased when he saw her face light up. He knew that she regarded Lucy and Annabelle as her nearest and dearest, although they were only friends

‘Oh, that would be marvellous. Thank you, but are you sure you can spare the time?’

‘The Christmas and New Year edition of the magazine went to print first thing yesterday morning, so after tomorrow evening when I’ve tidied a few things up, I’m all yours for the holiday,’ he assured her. ‘All we have to do now is hope that the trains are running.’

She sent up a silent prayer that they would be.

‘Dotty, Robert, come in! Oh, it’s so lovely to see you! We weren’t sure that you’d make it with the weather being so appalling.’ Miranda hugged Dotty with delight, being careful not to hurt her arm, which was still in a sling tucked beneath her coat. She nearly dragged the young couple into the hallway, where she shouted, ‘Annabelle! Lucy! Guess who’s here?’ She turned back to them then and helped Dotty to take her coat off. ‘It’s perfect timing,’ she told them gleefully. ‘Annabelle got home late last night and Lucy’s popped round to see her.’