The Watercress Girls (20 page)

‘Why will Canada be involved, and not America?’ Megan queried. ‘We should all fight evil.’

‘I believe the war will spread world-wide,’ Tommy said. ‘Now, cheer up, Megan, and how about I take you all out for a meal? Oh, I nearly forgot … Mum sent this letter for you, Mattie.’

Mattie went upstairs to get changed for the evening out, and opened the letter in the privacy of her bedroom.

‘Dear Grace, oh, I am.…’ Mattie said aloud. She wiped the tears from her eyes. What wonderful unexpected news! Griff had just returned from work and she heard him talking to Tommy downstairs. It was lovely to see Tommy again, too, she thought. Though now it was likely to be a long time before the next reunion.

M
egan had work lined up all this summer vacation from school. She was a salesgirl in one of the big stores in the same precinct as Sybil’s beauty shop. She earned twenty-five cents an hour. It didn’t seem much, but Sybil told her that Dolores, her assistant, had an older sister working in Woolworths; her husband had died leaving no pension and she had several children to bring up. Somehow, they survived on her wages of thirty-seven dollars a month.

Bigelow’s Store seemed, so her mother often said, a much larger version of the dear old trading post, for it sold everything a customer could possibly want. The clothes were old-fashioned, but so durable you couldn’t wear them out, as Megan knew from experience. ‘
Farmers
buy their overalls here,’ she reminded Mattie.

‘When we were on the farm, we bought from their catalogue,’ Mattie said.

‘I can remember you cut the books up and hung the paper on a nail in the john!’

Still, even temporary employees were allowed a discount on purchases. Megan snapped up the first of a new line of dungarees, nattily striped in blue and white. Dad joked and said she looked like a hillbilly. Both Mom and Sybil reminisced endlessly about the wonderful Empire Emporium back in Plymouth. No sumptuous silk garments in Bigelow’s, Mom sighed, but they had a good drapery department.

Megan and Kay spent most of their earnings on their social life. They went to the movies at least twice a week, to dances on Saturday nights, where girls often partnered other girls. They experimented with
make-up
and hairstyles at each other’s homes.

The girls’ bedrooms were all in similar states of chaos. Most of their mothers sighed and closed the doors firmly on the mess. They’d grow out of it, they said hopefully. Walls were decorated with pictures of film stars, sent by the studios as a response to fan letters. Mattie privately thought all the actresses looked much the same, pouting lips and
peroxided
hair, but she wouldn’t spoil Megan’s illusion that all the dashing
signatures had been personally inscribed. It was the era of secret diaries, writing to penfriends and singing soulfully along to records. There was much whispering about boys, especially the heart-throbs who excelled at sport, but these Adonises seemed to prefer the sweaty company of other adolescent males. ‘Safety in numbers,’ Griff said.

Megan was envied by her friends; she actually had an admirer. This was Max, Sybil’s step-grandson. They’d had a mutual dislike of each other as children, and she found this new devotion irritating. Fortunately, he was only around in the vacations.

She had a photograph of Tommy, in his uniform, smiling at her from her bedside table. ‘Will you write to me?’ he’d asked, the only time they met, before he went back to Canada. ‘I enjoy news from friends.’ It was rather off-putting that Mom read her letters before she sent them off, adding a short message from herself and Griff. Maybe Mattie was recalling the young Evie’s innocent attraction to an older man and wanted the letters to remain light-hearted. It had become rather a
one-way
thing, actually, for Tommy was too busy to write often, but said he sure appreciated Megan’s efforts.

Britain was soldiering on, as Griff put it. He and Mattie were frustrated that they were powerless to do anything to help family back home. News of the bombing of London and other major cities was alarming. They were relieved to hear that Christabel, and little Dolly had been evacuated to Hampshire, although old Aunt Mary refused to budge from Mitcham. Walter had taken the Civil Service examinations after Christabel left work, in order to secure a better job. He, too was evacuated, with his
department
, but to the West country, so he and Christabel were living far apart.

Relations became tense between Britain and the States. However, there was a boost earlier in 1941 when America presented the Royal Navy with fifty destroyers, which unfortunately proved to be not equipped for modern warfare. In return, Britain gave America long leases on bases in the West Indies. This was the start of the Lease-Lend policy.

There was exciting news of Robbie, now known as Rob, Mattie’s eldest nephew. He’d joined the Royal Air Force, and was even now in Canada being trained to fly the Miles Majesta monoplane. There he’d met up with their friend Tommy!

Suddenly, it seemed, summer was over, and Megan returned to high school, as a senior student. She and her friend Kay were at last
cheerleaders
for the school sports and were proud to wear their attractive uniforms, gold satin blouses with full bishop sleeves and maroon pinafore skirts. The other girls envied her naturally curly hair, for shoulder-length curls were in vogue. Megan secretly wished she had inherited her mom’s silky golden hair – didn’t they say gentlemen prefer blondes?

Evie and her friends soon discovered that life at the Amy Able was not as hidebound as it had been a decade ago. In their student days the local pub had been out of bounds. Now, when classes were over for the day, and homework marked up to date, there were house mistresses who looked after the younger pupils, and Evie, Rhoda and Noreen were free to go out to meet the local community.

‘D’you know,’ Evie confided, ‘Mattie and I were never allowed even to peep into the bar at the Plough! Of course, we weren’t old enough to drink, but Dad allowed us a drop of Stone’s ginger wine at Christmas time. Mother was a teetotaller, apart from saying Christmas pud and cake needed a generous helping of brandy!’

‘Lemonade, then?’ Rhoda enquired with a straight face, having decided it was her turn to buy the drinks.

‘We … ell, port and lemon would be nice. Dr Withers welcomed us with a glass of that, after all. She said it was a drink favoured by the lower orders, but not too strong for young ladies!’

Even such a mild mixture saw them giggling over a second glass, and observing the regulars leaning on the bar.

‘Not one under sixty,’ Rhoda whispered.

‘That old boy with the bulging haversack – poacher I shouldn’t wonder – winked at me – bloomin’ cheek,’ Evie whispered back.

A couple of farm workers, yet to go home and get changed, were playing a noisy game of darts and downing pints of beer.

‘Foul-smelling pipe tobacco.’ Noreen fanned the air with her hand. ‘We’re the only females here….’

‘Except for the landlord’s wife,’ Evie said. ‘She’s got a bust like a buttress.’

‘Seen her muscles when she pulls a pint? She doesn’t count,’ Rhoda decided.

The outer doors were pushed open, and there was a sudden hush, as everyone looked to see who had arrived.

‘It’s the Brylcreem boys,’ the poacher told the assembly.

‘Not one of ’em over twenty,’ Evie sighed.

The confident young men in air-force blue soon propped up the bar. They talked among themselves and their laughter was infectious. The poacher moved to the edge of the group. He patted his haversack and Evie and her friends caught the words: ‘… should you be int’rested – half a crown.…’

‘Ah, if it can be eaten, they will be,’ a man’s voice observed. Evie looked up, startled, at the airman with the sergeant’s stripes, who had entered after the others.

He smiled. ‘May I join you ladies at your table? I’m just here to keep an eye on the lads, and to ferry them back to base in due course. I’m Dave Harrington.’

‘Evie Rowley,’ she returned. ‘My friends and colleagues, Miss Rhoda Jefferies and Mrs Noreen Jones.’

‘Glad to meet you! Colleagues sounds rather grand – d’you work locally?’

‘We teach – or lecture, if that sounds grander! – at the ladies’ college.’

‘I was a teacher – rather than a lecturer! – in civvy life, myself. May I buy you ladies another drink?’

He’s nice, about our age, too, Evie thought. No doubt married. But not the type to deny it. He’s not handsome, but he has a cheerful grin and twinkling brown eyes.

Evie was right: before they’d had a sip from the fresh glasses the photographs of his family were passed around them.

‘My wife, Vi. Pity the snaps are not in colour, she has the most striking auburn hair! Our son, named after me, Davy, he’s two and a half, and the baby in the shawl – she’s toddling now! – is Lucy, a
miniature
of her mother!’

‘Are they here in Lincolnshire?’ Evie asked.

Dave shook his head. ‘No. When I was drafted here Vi took the
children
to her parents’ place in Surrey. They’re out in the country away from the danger areas.’

‘Were you flying in the Battle of Britain?’ Noreen wondered.

‘I was still training then. I was in a reserved occupation, but I
volunteered
for call up. I’m a sergeant-pilot, but some of this intake will definitely be high-flyers, if you’ll excuse the pun. They thrive on action. Is your husband in the forces?’

Noreen said evenly, ‘I was widowed just before the war.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘We had four good years together. No family, in case you were about to ask. You see, we were in China then, and we always thought … we’d have children when we came home at the end of his working assignment there. I’m really fortunate to have been reunited with my college friends, so life is good again.’

‘Well, I’m glad about that,’ Dave said sincerely.

Rhoda glanced at her watch. ‘Drink up, you two, or we’ll find the Amy Able blacked out inside as well as out….’

‘So long as you’re not locked out! Are you walking home?’ Dave asked.

‘Not likely, we’ve got our bikes outside and dimmed lights – it’s not far. It was nice to meet you, Dave. Thanks for the drinks,’ Evie told him.

‘I hope we meet again.’

‘I have a feeling we will,’ she said. While he was talking to her friends, she had been aware of his sidelong glances at herself. She wasn’t vain in the least, but he wasn’t the first man to find her attractive. And she had to admit to herself that despite this brief acquaintance she felt drawn to this nice man.

The nights were drawing in, and now they often woke in the early hours to hear the roar of the big bombers leaving the base. They didn’t talk about their fears. In the morning life was normal – or as normal as it could be, in wartime.

America was catapulted into the war on 7 December 1941, when Pearl Harbour, a natural harbour in Hawaii, where a great number of American ships were docked, was targeted by Japan, both at sea and in the air, with planes piloted by suicide bombers. The onslaught commenced just after dawn. It was a catastrophe on a massive scale.

It was followed by a Japanese attack on the Royal Navy in south-east Asia. Two great ships and crews were lost, the
Prince of Wales
and the
Repulse
.

Great Britain and the United States were now united in their resolve to overcome the enemy forces.

‘Thank God for that,’ Mattie said simply, for naturally, she and Griff had divided loyalties. They were now Americans, but still British at heart.

‘I hope you will forgive a word of advice in your ear,’ Rhoda said, observing Evie making ready to go out one Sunday afternoon. ‘You must know nothing can come of this friendship. I would hate to see you get hurt.’

Evie replaced the hand mirror on her locker top. She turned her flushed face and looked at Rhoda. ‘You know me better than that. It’s just a visit to the pictures, and tea in the ABC. He tells me the latest news about his family and I’ll make him laugh at some of the pranks the girls get up to here. We won’t mention this bloody war – and don’t look so shocked at my language! – or the fact that there’s always the chance he might not be around for another date. He has never once made any … overtures of any sort, or compromised my maidenly virtue.’

‘Would you have minded too much, if he had?’ Rhoda challenged her.

‘I’m not going to answer that!’ Evie picked up her bag, and brushed past Rhoda without her usual cheerful rejoinder of ‘See you later, then!’

Dave was waiting outside the Amy Able gates, in his four-by-four. It was a windy, chilly January day, and the landscape seemed as grey and leaden as the skies.

‘Hop in!’ he invited. As they drove off Evie wondered if Rhoda was watching from the upstairs window. Their exchange had unsettled her.

‘Everything all right?’ he enquired.

‘Not really. It seems that some might, well, be thinking we are more than just friends,’ she said, in a rush.

‘What rot!’ he said robustly, but he kept his eyes on the road ahead. ‘Your friendship means a lot to me, I admit, but—’

‘You would never dream of cheating on your wife,’ she concluded.

The conversation ceased there, as they’d arrived at the cinema, and after parking the four-by-four, joined a long queue outside, stamping and shuffling their feet in the cold. Evie turned up the fur collar on her plaid coat, which she’d bought before clothing was rationed. It had seemed extravagant at the time, but in this bleak weather she was certainly appreciative of its good quality.

Ninotchka
, starring Greta Garbo, was a couple of years old, but still a box-office draw in small country towns. Fans were particularly eager to see this film, because for the first time, as proclaimed on the billboard outside the cinema, GARBO LAUGHS! The Pathé newsreel brought the audience back down to earth, with grim reminders of the Japanese advances in Singapore.

They drove past the teashop, but before Evie could say anything, they drew up outside the George Hotel.

‘I thought we should have a special meal together on my last evening,’ Dave said in a matter-of-fact way. ‘I’ve booked a room – and before you jump to the wrong conclusion, it is a private sitting-room. Dinner will be served to us there.’

She made no attempt to get out of the motor. ‘I have to be back at the Amy Able before 9.30. I don’t understand. Are you … leaving here?’

‘I shouldn’t really say anything about this at all. Some of us are being deployed elsewhere. I couldn’t just vanish without saying. I’ll have you back at college on time.’

There was a modest fire warming the small room, which had ugly dark wallpaper, a couple of hard-backed armchairs, and a table laid for two. Dave pulled the curtains across the window. The blackout shutters were already in place.