There'll Be Blue Skies (17 page)

They had been courting for several months now, and their feelings for one another had not diminished. They were meant for one another, and soon, very soon, they would be engaged. She’d huddled against the cold brick wall of the shelter, her coat wrapped tightly over the lovely black velvet evening dress Sally had adapted from a cloak they’d found in a basket in the attic. It might be damp and chill down here amongst the crying babies and whining children, but Anne was warm inside, her smile soft and full of affection as she’d recalled their evening together.

Martin had told her he wanted to do things properly – and that meant her meeting his parents before he asked her father for her hand. She’d hugged her delight to her, and done her best to ignore the nervous flutter that always came when she thought about the lunch tomorrow. She wanted so badly to make a good impression, and for them to take to her. Martin had assured her there was absolutely nothing to worry about. His sister and his parents were nice ordinary people who couldn’t fail to love her as much as he did. But, try as she might, the niggling doubts would not be denied.

Chapter Seven

‘My sister’s the last person I need today,’ muttered Peggy, as she switched off the Hoover. ‘Just look at the place. My kitchen’s in a mess and the dust’s everywhere.’ She eyed the boarding Ron had put over the shattered windows and sighed. ‘Let’s hope she’s got something more interesting to do than come here for tea.’

Sally had already dusted the dining room and cleared away the glass; now she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the ornate tiles on the hall floor. ‘It doesn’t ’elp ’aving so many people tramping through the place with their muddy boots,’ she muttered. ‘We must’ve ’ad ’alf of Cliffehaven through ’ere this morning.’

‘At least the Salvation Army people will help those poor souls find somewhere to sleep now their houses are wrecked.’

‘Yeah, I suppose a bit of cleaning ain’t nothing compared to what ’appened to them.’ She wiped the cloth over the scrubbed floor and wrung it out into the bucket.

Anne came down the stairs looking pretty in a neat two-piece suit, carrying her overcoat on her arm. ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay and help, but Cissy has promised to finish cleaning the upstairs.’ She gave a hesitant smile. ‘Wish me luck, Mum.’

Peggy kissed her cheek and smiled. ‘You look lovely, darling. They can’t fail to take to you the minute they see you.’

Anne pulled on her coat, checked the seams in her stockings and touched the sweet little felt hat that had been artfully tilted above one eye. ‘You don’t think this is too much, do you?’

‘You look ever so lovely,’ sighed Sally. ‘Just like a film star.’

‘Martin’s been waiting outside long enough,’ said Peggy. ‘Get on with you.’

After a swift kiss for her mother and a nervous grin at Sally, she carefully stepped over the freshly washed floor and was out of the door.

Sally stood on the step, the bucket of dirty water at her feet as Martin tooted the horn and drove away in his very smart car. Anne might have looked nervous, but it was clear she and Martin were very much in love, and Sally wondered, wistfully, if she would ever know such happiness.

Closing the door, she dismissed all thought of John Hicks. As handsome and charming as he was, he wouldn’t want to know her once he realised Sally was committed to raising Ernie. She couldn’t expect any man to take on that kind of responsibility.

She carried the bucket through the kitchen and down to the back garden, where she threw it over Ron’s vegetable garden. On her way back to the kitchen she looked in on the three boys, who were playing with a train set they’d laid out on the floor between the beds. ‘Where’s Ron?’

‘In the outside lav with the
Racing Post
,’ said Bob solemnly. ‘He said not to disturb him until Aunt Doris has gone.’

‘It’s only three o’clock. She ain’t due till six.’

‘He’s worried she might come earlier if she knows about the gas explosion,’ said Charlie. He looked up from the train. ‘That’s why we’re staying down here,’ he explained. ‘Aunt Doris likes kissing boys, and we hate it, don’t we Bob?’

Bob pulled a face and shuddered dramatically. ‘Her lipstick feels horrible, but Mum says it’s rude to wipe it off straight away.’

‘Old Mother Kemp were the same,’ grimaced Ernie. ‘Yuk.’

Sally left them to it and continued up the steps to the kitchen. Doris sounded an awful woman, and she was glad she would be at work when she arrived.

Glancing at the kitchen clock, she realised she still had half an hour before she’d have to leave. She found a tea towel and got to work drying the cups and dishes that Peggy was stacking on the wooden draining board. The water and electricity had, thankfully, been restored by the engineers two hours ago.

‘I’m sorry I broke a couple of these,’ she said. ‘I hope they weren’t good ones?’

‘Goodness me, no. Most of this stuff dates back to the Ark.’ Peggy finished washing a saucer and added it to the pile. ‘I had a nice chat with John Hicks this morning, by the way,’ she said airily, fishing in the water for another cup.

‘Oh, yes?’ Sally tried not to show she was interested.

‘Mmm. I’ve known his family for years,’ carried on Peggy. ‘He’s a nice lad, but what happened to him was terribly sad.’ Peggy left the statement to hang between them.

Sally smiled. ‘You’d never make a good poker player, Peggy. Go on, you’re obviously dying to tell me all about John Hicks.’

‘He was married once,’ she said. ‘Suzy and he were barely out of school – and in hindsight, they probably knew they wouldn’t have much time together. Suzy was ill, you see, very ill. She was dead before they could celebrate their first anniversary.’ Peggy stared out of the window, her hands deep in the suds. ‘Leukaemia, it was. Poor little girl.’

Sally had heard similar stories back home, but they never failed to touch her heart. ‘That’s really sad,’ she murmured.

‘Yes. They’d been childhood sweethearts and John took it very badly.’

‘That’s hardly surprising.’ She bit her lip. ‘How long ago was this?’

‘Four years. They were both only eighteen.’ Peggy continued washing the dishes. ‘John’s made of sterner stuff than anyone realised, and although he went round like a ghost, he didn’t give in like some would have done.’ Peggy vigorously scrubbed a pan. ‘He was already working for the fire service as an apprentice, and from that moment on he seemed driven to prove himself. He was always the one up the highest ladder, or the first into a burning house – it was as if his own safety didn’t matter.’

‘He seems all right now,’ said Sally, putting the damp tea towel over the rail in front of the range to dry. ‘In fact,’ she added, ‘he’s a bit too full of ’imself for my liking.’

Peggy laughed. ‘You don’t fool me, young Sally. You’re smitten, and going by what we all saw this morning, so is John.’

Sally went bright red. ‘He don’t know nothing about me,’ she muttered.

‘He knows enough,’ said Peggy softly. ‘We had quite a chat this morning, and I told him about Ernie, and what a good little mother you are to him. I made it clear that you were only sixteen and I wouldn’t have him messing you about, and that if he was really interested in you, then he’d have to accept you and Ernie came as a pair.’

‘Oh.’ Sally could feel her heart bang painfully against her ribs. ‘What did ’e say to that?’

Peggy leant against the sink and folded her arms, her eyes bright with laughter. ‘He asked me if it would be all right to call in sometime and perhaps take you both out to tea. I said it was fine by me, but it was ultimately your decision.’

Sally tried to think, but it seemed her brain was scrambled.

‘I gave him our telephone number, so I expect we’ll hear from him quite soon. What shall I tell him, Sally?’

‘Tell ’im … tell ’im me and Ernie would like a cup of tea – but it would be better to ’ave it ’ere.’ She looked at Peggy, knowing her face was scarlet. ‘Now, I gotta go to work.’

‘I’ll try and get the ingredients together to make a cake,’ Peggy called after her as she shot out of the kitchen.

Sally was grinning as she took the stairs two at a time, grabbed the almost-finished dress along with her coat and gas mask, and flew back down the stairs and out of the door.

It was a dreary, cold day, but she hardly noticed as she ran down the street. There was a warm glow inside her, and it felt as if she had wings on her feet, and was floating on a cloud. John Hicks knew her situation, but still wanted to come to tea. Now she knew exactly how Anne felt.

Sally was still smiling as she arrived at the factory and clocked in. If only Pearl was at work today, she could have told her about John and asked her advice on what to wear, and what to do and say. But Pearl was on nights this week, and wouldn’t be sitting beside her. Her exciting news would have to wait until the end of the shift when they’d have a few moments to catch up.

She hurried inside and went straight to the girl who’d ordered the dress. Handing over the carefully wrapped brown paper parcel, she waited for her reaction.

‘It’s lovely,’ the girl breathed, holding it up. ‘You’re ever so clever, Sally. What do you think, girls?’

Sally reddened at their praise. ‘I’ll do the hem in the break. Stand still a mo, and I’ll pin it up to the right length.’

With the women’s praise still ringing in her ears, and the dress carefully rewrapped under her arm, Sally hurried to her seat, took off her coat, stowed the parcel on the shelf beneath the machine and sat down. The dress had done the trick and now there were two more customers who had things they wanted altered and brought up to date. Her little business was beginning to really flourish.

She was about to check the machine for sabotage when she realised her cushion was wet, and it was soaking through her skirt. With a gasp of horror, she sprang from the chair and inspected the damage. There was a large, suspiciously yellow patch spreading right across the seat of her light brown skirt. She sniffed the cushion and flinched at the sour reek of urine.

‘Oh, do look!’ screeched Iris from across the room. ‘Sally Turner’s wet ’erself. What’s the matter, girl, forgot yer nappy today, did yer?’

Sally picked up the sodden cushion between finger and thumb and advanced on Iris, all too aware that everyone was watching, eager to see what would happen.

Iris stood to meet her, hands on hips, malicious smile on her face. ‘Ooh,’ she said, ‘I’m frightened. What ya gunna do, little mouse?’

‘Give yer back what’s yours,’ she replied grimly, and swiped the stinking, sodden cushion right across Iris’s face.

Iris screeched and batted it away in horror and disgust. ‘You
bitch
,’ she shouted, scrubbing frantically at her face with the hem of her cardigan. ‘I’ll ’ave yer eyes for that.’

Sally stood her ground, even though Iris was sturdier and several inches taller. ‘You wanna fight? Come on then. Let’s see what yer made of without yer mates to back yer up.’

Iris stopped scrubbing at her face and looked round. She suddenly didn’t seem quite so sure of herself. ‘I’ll still ’ave you,’ she growled, her fingers clawed as she took a step towards Sally.

‘Sit down Iris,’ barked one of the women nearby as she grabbed her arm.

‘Let
go
of me you old cow,’ stormed Iris, wresting herself from her meaty grip. ‘This is none of your bloody business.’

The big woman at the end of the row stood up, arms akimbo, and gently moved Sally to one side to make way for the others who had risen with her. ‘We can make it our business,’ she said evenly.

‘You don’t frighten me.’ Iris had a hunted look in her eye despite her words, and she took another step back to discover she was trapped against the end of the table.

The women moved as one to surround her. ‘We’re sick of you bullying the young ones and getting up to your nasty tricks, Iris. Any more of it and we’ll show you how we treat bullies round ’ere.’ The big woman was almost nose to nose with her now. ‘And it won’t be pretty, Iris. I can promise you that.’

‘Here, Sally,’ muttered one of the women nearby, ‘take this and get that skirt off. I’ll rinse it through for you.’

Sally took the enormous wrap-round apron and slipped her arms through it before tying it round her waist and stepping out of the skirt.

The skirt was snatched away as Simmons appeared with his clipboard and a thunderous expression.

‘What’s going on here?’ he shouted. ‘Why are you women standing about when the whistle went two minutes ago?’

‘It’s nothing, Mr Simmons,’ said the big woman. ‘Iris just needed a bit of advice about something, that’s all.’

He noticed someone moving among the group. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he snapped. ‘Lav,’ she said, hiding Sally’s skirt behind her back. ‘I got the runs something chronic.’

‘Get on with it then,’ he said, his face reddening. He turned to Sally. ‘Get back to your own work-station, before I dock your pay,’ he roared.

‘I need to go to the lav as well,’ said Iris.

‘Well, you can’t. You spend too much time in there as it is.’

With his attention taken up with Iris, the big woman swiftly picked up the cushion by its corner and planted it on Iris’s chair.

‘Get to work, the lot of you,’ Simmons roared, ‘or I’ll give you your cards.’