The Bomb Girls (15 page)

‘You could say that, lovie!' he replied. ‘I've come 'ere seeking mi princess!' he added proudly.

‘I'll go and get her,' Esther replied excitedly. ‘I'm her flower girl. I'm sure it's all right for you to see her for a few minutes, though Lillian might be painting her toes red at the moment!'

Emily gave her a playful shove and sent her on her way.

‘Hurry up, Tommy's not got all day,' she chuckled.

Thrilled as she was to see Tommy, she couldn't help but watch Esther scamper away. Nobody would ever think she was sick, thought Emily, as the little girl hopped and skipped down the cobbled path to their digs.

Before Elsie arrived, Emily quickly turned to Tommy.

‘How are things out there?' she asked anxiously.

The happy smile fell from Tommy's face as he blurted out, ‘Bloody awful! It's better now Montgomery's in charge. He's a bloody legend. Him and his Desert Rats are pushing further and further north.'

Emily's heart dropped like a brick. Was Bill part of that battalion leading the big push?

‘I don't suppose you've seen Bill?'

Tommy avoided her penetrating blue eyes as he answered non-committally, ‘He's all right.'

Then he quickly changed the subject, saying, ‘Bloody scorching hot out there, well into th'undreds, day after sodding day –'

He stopped short as a high-pitched scream pierced the air.

‘TOMMEEEE!'

Radiant with happiness, Elsie, with her arms flung wide, was hurtling up the lane towards them.

‘Tommy … Tommy … Tommy!' she cried over and over again before she landed in his arms and burst into tears of joy.

‘Oh, my love,' she sobbed before Tommy stopped her mouth with his kisses.

On Elsie's wedding morning the girls washed, dressed
and made themselves up in a flurry of excitement, but not before Elsie walked out on the moors with Esther very early in the morning to pick wild flowers for her bridal wreath and bouquet. As the skylarks wheeled over them and the first swallows swooped by, they laughed as they gathered ox-eye daisies, cow parsley and wild anemones. Elsie held back, encouraging Esther to go ahead and discover the flowers herself. Carrying an overflowing basket, they returned to the digs to find Lillian in her knickers and bra standing over Agnes with hot curling tongs.

‘You won't recognize yourself by the time I've done with you, Agnes,' Lillian promised.

Agnes looked at the hot curling tongs in dismay.

‘What have you got in mind?' she asked anxiously.

Lillian winked.

‘Put it this way: move over, Rita Heyworth!'

Sitting having her hair done on the morning of Elsie's wedding, holding her daughter in her arms and watching her friends wriggle into their salmon-pink silk dresses, Agnes smiled as she realized she hadn't felt so happy in years.

At 11 a.m., Malc, who Elsie had asked to give her away, swooped up in his big old Austin to collect the bridal party.

‘Hop in, Canary Girl,' he said as he and Lillian exchanged a forgiving smile.

Tommy and Elsie were married in the local Catholic church. The aged Irish priest made the Latin nuptial mass interminably long, but nobody cared. It was a simple joy to be brought together as a community to bless the wedding of two young people so much in love. Elsie, in her
‘fashion on the ration', simple home-made gown glowed with radiant happiness whilst Tommy, dashing in his Lancashire Fusiliers uniform, couldn't stop smiling. Elsie wept as she gripped Tommy's hand in hers and made her vows in a voice that, for a girl so shy, was loud and assertive, as if she was announcing to the world that the drudgery of the past was over and a new wonderful life with the man she loved was beginning.

After the constant round of hardship, hunger and the drab greyness of their everyday working lives it was a pleasure to sit in a church drenched in rich colours reflected down from the stained-glass windows and to inhale the sweet smell of home-grown roses. It was also a pleasure to see people dressed in their Sunday best instead of uniforms and overalls, the costumes of war.

Emily's wedding breakfast, laid out on rows of trestle tables in the church hall, was a sight for sore eyes. For almost a minute before everybody sat down, there was a hushed silence as the guests' eyes feasted on fresh ham, home-made pies and ice cream.

‘Bloody 'ell, lass,' said one appreciative guest after another to Emily, ‘you should open a shop or write a recipe book, at least!'

Emily smiled happily as she sliced up the rhubarb and ginger tarts, topping each slice with a blob of vanilla ice cream.

‘I couldn't have put this meal together without the Phoenix girls donating their food coupons for Elsie's wedding,' she replied.

‘She's worth it!' laughed Tommy as he raised his pint of bitter in a toast to his new wife.

As Emily helped Mrs Carter and her friends wash dishes in the small kitchen attached to the church hall, she considered the suggestions that had just been thrown at her.

Nice ideas, but I've not got the money to open a shop and certainly not the time to write a book, she thought to herself.

She was interrupted by an excited Esther, who came skipping up and grabbed her soapy hands.

‘Come on, Em!' she cried. ‘The prince and princess are dancing!'

Emily and Esther ran into the hall, where Tommy and Elsie led the dancing to the sound of their favourite song by the Andrews Sisters, ‘Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree'.

The bride and groom left the party at four o'clock to catch a train to Blackpool, where they planned to spend two nights together before Tommy returned to active service in North Africa.

Back in the digs after the wedding party there was a distinct air of deflation. Whilst Alice packed her case for a dawn start the following day, Agnes, afraid of upsetting Esther, tried to pack her daughter's case behind her back. Sensing mounting tension, Emily and Lillian took Esther, still in her bridesmaid's dress, for a walk on the moors.

‘Why can't I stay and live with you for ever?' Esther asked the girls on either side of her.

Lillian and Emily exchanged a knowing look.

‘One day, you and your mummy will live together for ever,' Emily assured Esther.

‘And Daddy too?' Esther persisted.

Tears stung Lillian's eyes.

‘God! How do we answer that?' she muttered under her breath.

Determined to stay upbeat, Emily replied firmly, ‘And Daddy too, of course!'

And so the following day, whilst Lillian and Emily returned to the cordite line, Alice went south, back to Helford, and Agnes, with a heavy heart, went with little Esther north to Keswick.

As the conveyor belt rolled out shell cases ready to be filled with explosive and detonators, Emily grew pensive. When would she see Alice again and why hadn't she asked her a lot more questions about her future?

As victories were won in North Africa, the news boosted morale at home, for surely defeat would have an impact on the Germans and increase Britain's chances of winning the war and bringing the boys back from the front.

At the Phoenix morale was further enhanced by the sudden influx of American servicemen in the area. Not only had a squadron of US airmen moved onto an airbase nearby, but charismatic Yanks were now arriving at the factory every week, to deliver consignments of amatol and collect loaded bombs and rockets.

‘God! I feel like I've died and gone to heaven,' said one of the munitions girls as she eyed up a handsome Yank in the canteen.

Lillian gave an appreciative wink, but since the explosion caused by her on the cordite line, for all her talk about ‘fellas', she had seriously backed off. Malcolm's relationship with Emily, Elsie and Agnes was relatively easy and he had seriously helped all of them when needed: Elsie's wedding, Agnes's compassionate leave, Emily's frequent taking over of the canteen kitchen, to which he turned a blind eye. But his relationship with Lillian was cool, and it went both ways. Neither of them wanted to overstep the line again, and although Malc's eyes lingered over Lillian's hourglass figure at times, both were keen to move on. On top of this, Lillian had undergone a profound
change when it came to men. Formerly she'd gone for rich, influential boyfriends who could make her life easier, help her through the irritating hardships of the war, but since the blast she had kept herself to herself.

‘What's come over you?' Elsie teased.

‘I'm saving myself for Mr Wonderful!' Lillian laughingly replied.

Then one day, as the strains of ‘When They Begin the Beguine' drifted out from the factory wireless, Mr Wonderful did indeed walk into the Phoenix and into Lillian's life, in the form of Gary.

‘The minute we caught sight of each other the world stood still,' Lillian later told her incredulous friends.

Lillian was instantly drawn to the sheer physical presence of the tall, blond, well-built, tanned American who moved through the room with ease and confidence. His smile was relaxed and friendly, his east-coast accent totally sexy, but for Lillian it was
him
, the man himself, who mesmerized her. It felt like a magnet had been planted inside her chest and she was being drawn inexorably towards him. Nothing on earth could have stopped Lillian from sitting down at the table where Gary sat smoking a Lucky Strike.

When Gary saw the swing of her long dark hair, the twinkle in her big dark eyes and the smile that parted her full pouting mouth to reveal small white teeth, his heart skipped a beat. With trembling hands he offered her a cigarette.

‘Good morning to you. I'm Gary.'

‘Hi! I'm Lillian,' she squeaked, hardly able to speak.

‘I'm from Ohio,' he added with a grin.

‘I'm from Bradford,' she replied, then said with a contagious giggle, ‘We should have plenty in common!'

During that first unforgettable meeting, with the strains of ‘When They Begin the Beguine' weaving its way through their conversation, Lillian learned that Gary, who she later described as ‘the spit of Frank Sinatra – but taller and blond', had never been posted so far north since his arrival in England.

‘I'll give you a tour of the area when you've time,' she instantly volunteered.

‘That would be an honour, ma'am,' he replied with a slow smile.

‘When he smiled I swear to God the earth moved,' Lillian told her pals later.

Hearing his superior officer shouting to him, Gary shot to his feet and, standing before Lillian, he gave her a quick-smart salute that made her heart lurch.

‘May I see you again, ma'am?' he said with the utmost civility.

Lillian just about managed to squeeze out a reply, though she could hardly breathe.

‘Any time, Gary from Ohio!'

And with that he gave her a final grin and was off. Back at the digs Lillian went into overdrive.

‘He is gorrrrgeous,' she told Emily, Elsie and Agnes. ‘Gorgeous Gary from Ohio!'

It was hard for her friends to take Lillian's new crush seriously.

‘I've never felt like this before,' she insisted. ‘I've never met a man more perfect.'

Agnes smiled ruefully.

‘I bet he's perfect,' she said. ‘The Yanks, unlike us Brits who've been on food rationing since 1939, aren't starved of milk and meat and eggs, so no wonder they all look so fit and their teeth are shiny white. We're short of protein and calcium and undernourished by comparison.'

Lillian shrugged as she snatched Elsie up and started dancing her around the room, all the while singing ‘When They Begin the Beguine'.

‘This is our song,' she said dreamily.

Still raw from her affair with sweet-talking Freddie and its heartbreaking repercussions, Emily shook her head at Lillian blissfully waltzing around the sitting room.

‘I can't believe you, of all people, getting carried away by a Yank,' she said over Lillian's loud singing. ‘You know what they say: over here, overpaid and oversexed!'

Unruffled by Emily's harsh words, Lillian replied without breaking the tempo of her steps.

‘Gorgeous Gary from Ohio's not like that, just you wait and see!'

Gary searched Lillian out, and every time he came to the Phoenix they found time to be together, first for a cigarette and a chat, then, as he extended his stay, for long walks on the moors, where they lay kissing in the deep heather.

Their love bloomed and the force of it blew Lillian away; she had never known such emotion in her life. A worldly woman who thought she could handle any situation, she was weak at the sight of Gorgeous Gary from Ohio, as she always called him with a smile on her lips.

One afternoon, alone in the digs with the blackout blinds rolled down, Lillian received her first gift from
Gary: a bottle of American scent. Called Mary Chess White Lilac, it was exotically different from Lavender Water, the only perfume commonly available in Britain during the war years.

Lillian opened the bottle and inhaled the heady perfume then, smiling, she leaned back on the sofa.

‘Put some perfume on me,' she said in a low, husky voice.

Gary's deep blue eyes grew wide with desire.

‘Sure, honey?'

Lillian ran her hands through his wonderfully thick blond hair.

‘Never surer,' she murmured.

Gary sat back and looked into Lillian's brown eyes, which were blazing with desire.

‘Honey, I don't want to hurt you,' he said softly. ‘I don't know how long I'll be posted here in the north, or where I'll go next. Our squadron could go anywhere, and we're only biding time here till we get orders to move on.'

‘Gary …' she whispered. ‘I really don't care.'

Gary grasped her hands and slowly kissed each of her small fingers.

‘But I do,' he said firmly. ‘I love you too much to play around.'

Lillian looked him straight in the eye as she laid one of his hands on her right breast.

‘I love you too,' she said simply. ‘I want to be with you for ever, and I don't think either of us is playing around.'

With his hand on Lillian's full, firm breast, Gary was having trouble sticking to his argument. Taking a deep
breath, he said, ‘What happens if I'm posted to an unknown destination tomorrow?'

‘Then I'll wait.'

‘What happens if I don't come back?'

‘Then I'll have known love for the first time in my life and I won't regret a thing,' she said as she reached for the bottle of White Lilac. ‘Now, are you going to do as I ask or do I have to do it for myself?'

Struggling to keep control of the passion raging inside him, Gary said, ‘I –'

But Lillian stopped his mouth with her hand.

‘I love you, Gary from Ohio, come what may.'

Gary started with a tiny dab behind her ears then ran his finger down the line of her neck and into her cleavage, where he slid his hand underneath her bra, slipping it off without any protest from Lillian. She reached up and pulled his face down onto her breasts, which he kissed; then, sweeping his palm over her slender ribcage, he kissed her navel and flat stomach.

‘Stop!' Lillian said.

She rose to her feet and led Gary down the corridor to her bedroom.

‘What about your housemates?' he asked as she pushed him onto her bed. ‘Aren't they due home soon?'

Lillian smiled as she removed her underwear.

‘I gave them sixpence each to go to the chip shop in Pendle.'

Smiling in anticipation, she climbed on top of Gary and whispered in his ear, ‘Darling, they won't be home for hours!'

As Lillian and Gary's romance bloomed, and even though he and Lillian were no longer an item, Malc became both irritated and humiliated by their public shows of affection. Because he had no right to pick on Lillian in particular, he picked on the whole cordite line instead.

‘Late this morning, ladies,' he'd say peevishly when they weren't.

Or, ‘Taking an early break?' as the girls rushed out, eager for their first cuppa of the shift.

‘He's picking on the lot of us because of Lillian taking up with Gary,' Emily pointed out.

‘It's none of his bloody business who I see,' Lillian seethed.

‘You're rubbing his nose in it,' Agnes said. ‘Rushing across the canteen floor and throwing your arms around Gary every time he walks into the Phoenix.'

Lillian bridled at Agnes's criticism.

‘Haven't you ever been in love, Agnes?' she snapped.

Agnes's face grew pale with anger but she kept her composure.

‘Yes, with my husband, since you ask,' she replied with icy calm.

Lillian blushed to the roots of her long dark hair.

‘Agnes, I'm sorry!' she blurted out as she grabbed her friend's hand. ‘I wasn't thinking.'

‘That's the point, Lil. You're not thinking about anything or anybody but Gary,' Agnes replied.

Elsie, who hated any kind of trouble, looked at Lillian imploringly.

‘At least hold back on your canoodling when Malc's around,' she begged. ‘He still carries a flame for you, pet.'

Lillian rolled her eyes.

‘Malc's long gone; it's time he got over it.'

‘He's quite capable of turning nasty, Lil,' Emily pointed out.

‘He could get you into trouble with the boss, pet,' Elsie fretted.

Lillian looked at her friends and smiled.

‘It's about time Malc took a long walk off a short pier!' she said with a loud laugh.

Emily was right; Malc did turn nasty. There wasn't a day went by when he didn't walk slowly down the cordite line checking the girls' every movement.

‘Is that shell packed tight?'

‘How many cases have you filled this morning?'

‘Speed it up, ladies, we're not on our holidays,' he'd say sarcastically.

Luckily, under Agnes's experienced eye, her team didn't put a foot wrong.

‘Ignore him, concentrate on the job, hum along to the music, think of something else if he starts,' Agnes advised her section.

Surprisingly it was Emily who broke the stalemate. Increasingly depressed and missing Alice more than she could ever have imagined, Emily couldn't stand Malc prowling up and down, watching them pack cordite into the shell cases.

‘As you would say, Lillian, he's really getting on my tits!' Emily giggled.

‘He got on my tits long ago!' Lillian laughed.

The situation blew one morning as the girls sang along to George Formby's ‘When I'm Cleaning Windows'
on the factory radio. Malc was peering over their shoulders and making comments that caused the hairs on the back of Emily's neck to stand on end as he approached.

‘Whilst you're fooling around singing along to bloody George Formby, our boys are dying on the front line for lack of bombs and ammo. Get your fingers out!' he almost shouted.

It was poor little Elsie who broke under the pressure of his words, and it was ironic that it should have been her as she was without doubt his favourite little lass. Bursting into tears, she sobbed.

‘Don't talk like that, Malc. My husband's one of them boys on the front line and I would rather die than not do my job for King and country!'

Gathering herself together, she turned to Agnes and said, ‘Excuse me.' Then, without another word, she fled across the factory floor.

Before Agnes could say a word to Malc, who was visibly shaken by gentle Elsie's reaction, Emily totally lost it.

‘How could you say such a thing when Elsie's out of her mind with worry about Tommy?' she raged.

‘She's not heard from him since they got married,' Agnes icily pointed out.

Malc looked uncomfortable but he pretended to shrug it off.

‘It's not my job to keep track of everybody's relationship.'