The Bells of Bow (23 page)

‘You promised me, Evie,’ she muttered to herself. ‘You said you wouldn’t let me down again.’

But Evie had let her down. For the last goodness only knew how many weeks, her sister had failed to come in after going out on a Friday night with Albie Denham, leaving Babs by herself to sort out the shopping and cleaning that had to be done over the weekend.

Babs was so busy complaining to herself that at first she didn’t hear her name being called, but when she eventually stopped and looked over her shoulder to find out who wanted her, she saw it was Blanche and Len staggering towards her. They were even more laden with bags than she was.

‘At last,’ Blanche shouted to her. ‘I’ve been trying to get yer to slow down since yer left the market.’ She puffed loudly as she dumped her bags on the pavement. ‘I always say it, but this time I really mean it, it’s a good job I’ve got my Lenny here to help me, ain’t it?’ Blanche winked affectionately at her son and rubbed at her aching back.

‘Yer right there, Blanche,’ said Babs, doing her best to smile at Len as she too let her bags drop to the pavement. ‘I could do with a bit of help meself.’

‘It ain’t like you to go down the Roman on yer own.’

‘No,’ Babs said flatly, ‘it ain’t usually, but it’s becoming something of a habit lately and one that I ain’t very keen on, to tell yer the truth.’

‘Evie not come home again?’ Blanche asked quietly, almost mouthing the words, so that Len couldn’t hear.

Babs shook her head. ‘No.’ After a moment of uneasy silence, Babs spoke to Len. ‘So what you been up to then, apart from helping yer mum?’

‘I’ve started a collection,’ said Len, his eyes shining at the thought of it. ‘Look.’ He dug into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a chunk of metal. ‘Shrapnel, that is. I think. Or part of an aeroplane anyway.’

‘Fancy that,’ said Babs, looking at it closely.

‘I found it out walking along the canal—’

‘You what?’ demanded Blanche. ‘Yer know you ain’t allowed down there.’

‘Not
by
the canal
exactly
, Mum,’ Len quickly corrected himself. ‘But down that sort of end of the street.’ He turned back to Babs. ‘There was this dogfight, see.’ Len waved his arms excitedly in the air. ‘Vapour trails right across the sky and Spitfires and Hurricanes and everything all fighting the Jerries in their Messerschmitts. Then they got him! Bull’s eye! And I’ll bet my mum’s kettle was used to make the Spitfire what got him.’

Blanche was frowning. ‘Are you telling the truth, Len?’

‘Yeah.’ He sounded hurt that his mum would doubt him. ‘You give yer kettle in when the lady come round collecting ’em.’

‘Yer know I don’t mean about no kettle.’

Len swallowed hard and looked down at his boots.

‘There ain’t been no planes come down anywhere near here, Len. So where yer been? You been off on that old bike of your dad’s again?’

‘When we was in Cornwall yer let me go for miles without having a go at me.’

‘Well, we ain’t in Cornwall now, thank gawd.’

‘I wish I was still there. It was smashing.’

‘Don’t start crying, Len.’ As always, the sight of any of her children even close to tears immediately mollified Blanche’s temper. ‘Tell yer what,’ she said gently. ‘I’ll talk to Dad about you getting that rabbit yer wanted, how about that?’

‘Would yer, Mum?’ His tears forgotten, Len was now beaming.

‘Course, and why don’t yer ask Babs if she’ll let yer take Flash out for a walk later?’

‘I’d be grateful if yer would, Len,’ said Babs, smiling down at him. ‘It’d save me a job.’

‘If I take these bags home now, Mum, and put the stuff in the cupboard, can I take her out straightaway?’

‘Go on then. And tell Mary to get the kettle on.’

Len picked up the two bags he had been struggling with earlier, their weight no longer a problem, and raced off as fast as he could towards Darnfield Street.

‘She’s out the back in the scullery,’ Babs called after him. ‘The key’s on the string.’

‘Righto!’ Len shouted back.

‘He’s such a good kid, Blanche.’

‘Yeah. I wish he was a bit happier, that’s all. Then perhaps he wouldn’t go wandering. He was like a different boy when we was down there.’ Blanche looked down at the shopping round Babs’s feet. ‘You looking after the dog and all now, Babs?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I think you’re letting Evie get away with murder.’

Babs shrugged. ‘Ain’t got much choice, really. Someone’s gotta do it.’

Blanche studied Babs’s face for a moment; she looked tired. Doing her best to sound cheerful, she said, ‘Here, I saw Ringer talking to Miss Peters again the other day. Looked like they was getting on right well and all.’

Babs looked surprised. ‘Me dad and Maudie Peters? You sure, Blanche?’

‘Yeah, didn’t yer know? That’s a few times I’ve seen ’em chatting lately.’

‘What am I meant to be, on the Brains Trust?’ snapped Babs. ‘Course I didn’t know. How am I meant to know anything?’ She kicked at one of the shopping bags, sending a stream of potatoes rolling towards the road. ‘I’m too flaming busy working and cooking and cleaning to have a chance to know anything.’ She bent down and started picking up the vegetables. ‘Bloody things.’

Blanche bent down to help her. ‘Sorry, Babs, I didn’t mean to upset yer,’ she said, stuffing them back in the bag.

‘No, Blanche, I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m tired, that’s all.’

‘Yer doing too much.’

‘Got yer eye on me, have yer?’

‘I ain’t poking me nose in, Babs.’ Straightening herself up, Blanche handed her the last of the potatoes. ‘I’m just a bit worried about yer.’

‘I know you are, Blanche, and I’m grateful to yer.’

Blanche smiled and picked up her bags. ‘Come on, let’s get this lot home. I tell yer what, why don’t you do a list of what yer want every morning, drop it in through me door, and I can get yer bits for yer while yer at work. I bet yer spend all yer dinner time in them bloody queues.’

‘That’s right kind of yer, Blanche,’ said Babs, heaving her bag onto her arm, ‘but I’ll be all right. I don’t suppose it’ll last much longer with Albie Denham,’ she added with a loud sigh as they started walking slowly along Grove Road.

‘I ain’t so sure about that, it’s been about a year now, ain’t it?’ Blanche glanced sideways at Babs, waiting for her response, but she said nothing. ‘I’ve gotta admit, it ain’t turned out like I thought it would.’

‘Yer right there. I thought he’d have had it away a long time ago.’

‘Maybe he’s changed and they’ll settle down together.’

‘D’yer reckon?’ Babs asked sceptically.

‘No. Not to be honest with yer, Babs. I don’t.’

They walked along quietly for a moment, Blanche doing her best to think of something to say, anything to change the subject away from Albie Denham. ‘Have you heard?’ she said suddenly. ‘They’re saying how the King and Queen and all the government are doing a runner to Canada.’

‘Wish I could go to bloody Canada.’

‘I like them slacks yer wearing,’ said Blanche, trying again. ‘Always fancied meself in a pair of trousers. And Archie reckons I’ve still got the figure for ’em.’

Babs looked down at her legs as though the trousers were a surprise to her. ‘These? I made them out of a remnant at work.’

‘Big remnant,’ laughed Blanche, relieved that she’d distracted Babs.

Babs laughed with her.

‘I’d love some new things,’ said Blanche wistfully. ‘But there just don’t seem to be the gear around to buy like there used to be.’

Babs stopped dead and turned to Blanche. ‘If yer worked at Styleways yer could make yerself anything yer want.’ She paused. ‘Well, within reason.’

‘Me? Work?’

‘Why not? The governor’s looking for people, to work on uniforms. Good money it is and all. And there’s some really nice girls, yer’d like ’em. One horrible one, but you get that anywhere.’

‘How about the kids?’

Babs put down her bags again and thought for a moment. ‘Janey can go to the nursery they’ve opened up at the school, and the rest of them are old enough to sort themselves out.’

‘I’m not too sure about Len.’

‘He’ll be all right. Archie’ll be there for him. He’s always finished early down the market before school packs up.’

‘Shame Mary never took that job at Styleways. I could have killed her starting on them munitions. That’s our Ruby’s fault, interfering as usual.’

‘I ain’t talking about Mary, I’m talking about you. Perhaps when she knows you’ll be working there she’ll wanna job and all.’

Blanche laughed. ‘I don’t even know if I’m gonna say yes yet, nor’s yer governor. But I know if I do go there, it’ll make Mary even keener to stay on munitions.’ She frowned. ‘And what’ll my Archie say? I’ve not worked since we got married.’

‘Has he ever refused you anything?’

Now Blanche was laughing again. ‘Can’t think of nothing, except about that bloody evacuation lark, of course, and Archie says now how he should have listened to me about that anyway.’

‘Good, that’s settled then. I’ll go in to Mr Silver first thing Monday morning and see about it.’

Blanche looked a bit wary. ‘Suppose I could give it a go.’

‘Course yer could.’ Babs picked up her bags and they began walking again. ‘And yer don’t have to stay if yer don’t like it. But I know yer will, ’cos Mr Silver’s right nice, ever so easy to work for.’

‘He must be,’ Blanche said with a chuckle. ‘What he lets your Evie get away with.’

‘He is good to her, but she works hard when she is there.’

‘Even so, he must be a bit of a soft touch.’

‘He ain’t silly, Blanche, but he’s good to all of us girls in the workshop. Dunno what he’s like to the homeworkers, but I bet he’s the same with them.’

‘I could do that. Homework. That might suit me better.’

‘Don’t be daft, going out to work’s the whole point of it. It’ll do you good to get out.’

‘Hark at us. I never even thought about working five minutes ago, now I’m deciding whether I wanna work in the factory or indoors.’ She shook her head. ‘Going out tonight, Babs?’

‘I know you, Blanche, I know yer just trying to change the subject, but I ain’t gonna let yer. Yes, I am going out tonight, and I’m going out with Lou
from work
. You like her. You’ll like working with her and all.’

‘
If
I ever work with her,’ grinned Blanche, now almost resigned to the fact that she’d at least have a talk to Archie about going to Styleways.

‘You will,’ Babs grinned back. ‘I’ve left it to Lou to sort something out for me and her to do tonight. Should be good. Her brother Bob’s been coming up trumps with all sorts of fellers for us. You name ’em, soldiers, sailors, airmen, we’ve been out with the flipping lot!’

‘It’s good to see you laugh. You go out and enjoy yerself, make the most of it.’

‘I think I’ll have to. Bob’s off to training camp himself soon, so there won’t be no one around to find fellers for us.’ Babs’s laughter was no longer quite so convincing.

‘As if you’d ever have any trouble finding yerself a bloke,’ scoffed Blanche.

‘I dunno so much. I always used to think that Evie was barmy when she used to worry about being left an old maid. Now it’s me what’s worrying.’

‘Now you really are being daft.’

‘Am I?’ Babs said softly. ‘Am I really?’

Later on that hot, sunny Saturday afternoon, Babs and Blanche were both out in their back yards taking in the washing.

Babs shifted the clothes prop, letting the line slacken so she could reach the sheets that she’d pegged out before she went to the market. ‘How d’yer feel about starting work now yer’ve had a couple of hours to think about it?’ she asked, looking over the wall at Blanche.

‘What time have I had to think about anything with all this to do?’ Blanche mumbled, the wooden pegs she held in her mouth wobbling as she spoke. ‘I ain’t even spoken to my Archie about it yet.’

‘You know what he’ll say anyway.’ Babs doubled the clean white sheet over her arm and laid it carefully in the washing basket; if she didn’t crease it too much she’d be able to get away with only having to rub the iron over it.

Blanche took the pegs from her mouth and dropped them into the little checked bag that hung on the line. ‘So, have you heard from Lou yet about what you pair are getting up to tonight?’

‘Yeah, it’s all sorted out. She popped round a little while ago to tell me.’

‘Good. I told yer, yer should go out and enjoy yerself, single girl on a Saturday night. And you wait and see, I bet yer find yerself a right nice chap and all.’

‘All right, Grandma,’ Babs laughed as she took down the next sheet from the line. ‘I shouldn’t have said them things this morning, should I? ’Cos I know you, yer’ll be after me, seeing if I’ve got a feller and about settling down every five minutes now.’

‘We’ll see,’ Blanche said, unpegging Janey’s little vests. ‘So, what are yer doing?’

‘Going to see that new Cary Grant and Irene Dunne film.’ Babs paused. She let the pillow case she was just about to fold drop into the linen basket and put her hand to her chin. ‘Now, what’s it called? I bet you know.’

‘
My Favourite Wife
?’ asked Blanche with a grin.

‘That’s the one,’ chuckled Babs.

Blanche narrowed her eyes. ‘Cor, Cary Grant. I wouldn’t mind being his favourite wife.’

Babs got on with her folding. ‘Don’t let your Archie hear yer. ’

‘It’s all right, Cary can nip round for a few hours and Archie won’t know a thing about it. He won’t be in for ages yet. Gone to see the Arsenal, ain’t he. Him and Micky packed the stall away a bit early so’s he could go and—’

The unmistakable sound of the air raid warning interrupted her.

‘Aw no,’ she hollered to Babs, tossing the clean vests carelessly into the washing basket and scooping up Janey from where she was playing by her feet. ‘Here we go again, bloody thing. Grab yer ration books, Babs.’

‘I’ll go out the front and get Len,’ Babs called over her shoulder as she dashed for the back door.

‘I wish they’d drop a bomb on that scullery and get rid of the copper, the washing board and the tin bath with it, so I never had to do another bit of washing again,’ laughed Blanche as she too disappeared indoors.