‘Here, let me take those,’ Douglas said as Betty started to clear the table. He carried their plates to the kitchen and placed them in the sink.
‘Thank you, Douglas, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear what you have to say about Charlie. I’ll take care of the washing up later. I’ve wondered about Charlie’s last days for twenty-five years and can’t wait a moment longer. Please, make yourself comfortable,’ she said, pointing to one of two armchairs placed either side of the fireplace. The May evening was warm so the fire remained unlit. A wooden fireguard, embroidered with the image of a magnificent stag, hid the empty grate. A bunch of early summer flowers from Douglas were arranged in a cut-glass vase and stood on the mantelpiece.
Douglas took a large brown envelope from where he’d left it on the sideboard and sat in the proffered armchair. ‘I feel quite nervous now the time has come to talk about my friend and your late fiancé,’ he said apologetically. ‘I never thought this would happen.’
‘There’s nothing to be nervous about, Douglas. Please take your time and tell me how you first met,’ Betty encouraged.
‘We met on the troop ship heading over to France in late December of 1917. It was cold and snow started to fall as the ship left England, so it was not a day for sitting on deck. Conditions were cramped below deck and it wasn’t long before a fight broke out amongst the men who’d been drinking.’
Betty drew in a sharp breath. ‘But Charlie wasn’t a drinker. High days and holidays he’d have one, but even then it was to be social or to toast the King.’
‘Be assured that Charlie hadn’t been drinking. In fact we’d been chatting about our home life and shared a laugh about your surname being the same as mine. He’d been keeping his own council until he felt it prudent to pull a couple of heavily built lads off another soldier and they objected with their fists.’
‘Oh my!’ Betty said. ‘He never mentioned this in his letters.’
Douglas gave her a smile of reassurance. ‘A true gentleman wouldn’t wish to worry his loved one. We met when I helped pull him to safety and we sat together waiting to be patched up.’
‘You were injured too?’
Douglas ran his finger up the side of his nose to a small bump on the ridge. ‘For my sins I received a broken nose, whereas Charlie had two black eyes. You would have thought we’d been in the fight rather than acting as peacemakers,’ he laughed. ‘From that day on we found ourselves in each other’s company and got on well. I mourned his passing as much as I would a brother, if I’d had one,’ he said sadly.
‘I suppose being thrust together as you were, friendships would have been made much quicker than before the war. Charlie was quite a reserved man. I have often wondered how he coped alone during the time he served in the army. It doesn’t matter if I say now, so long after his death, that for some time Charlie had thoughts about not fighting in the war. However, he was aware his family would have suffered if he declared himself to be a conscientious objector.’
Douglas nodded his head in agreement. ‘Charlie was not alone in thinking this way. I believe that is why we became firm friends. We weren’t quite the sharp shooters the Rifle Brigade expected so until the time of fierce fighting we worked as stretcher bearers rather than killing the enemy.’
Betty flinched. ‘I can’t imagine my Charlie killing anyone. Even now with colleagues and friends going off to war it is hard to think they will kill fellow men.’
‘It’s a case of kill or be killed,’ Douglas said gently. ‘We didn’t dare think we were dispatching someone’s son or brother, or indeed a husband with a young wife and children back home in Germany. For my part, I can just say that having made friends with a comrade while in the trenches was a comfort and I hope Charlie thought the same. I have a few things here that may bring you some comfort.’ He delved into the envelope and pulled out a small well-worn notebook. ‘I kept a diary at that time, although there were days when, due to fatigue or being in battle, I didn’t write.’ He flicked through the pages. ‘My words seem to be fading – perhaps it’s for the best. Who wants to remember times like that when our beloved country is again at war? However, I’d like you to have it as I mention Charlie and our thoughts up to . . . up to the sniper ending his life so quickly.’
‘A sniper?’ Betty stopped midway through reaching out for the diary. ‘I had no idea. Charlie’s family did not say . . . but then they were in mourning and I was not accepted into the grief. My parents assumed I would soon find another beau or live the life of a spinster taking care of them into their dotage. I was to all intents and purposes told to pull myself together and forget Charlie.’
‘My dear woman,’ Douglas said, reaching across for her hand and squeezing it tightly. ‘If only I’d been brave enough to find you and console you in your time of grief.’
Betty pulled her hand away, even though she took great comfort from the warmth of his fingers. ‘Douglas, time has moved on and, if anything, Charlie’s untimely death showed me I could stand on my own two feet and forge a career for myself. I have my little house and good friends. Why, I’m even a godmother. Here, let me show you a photograph of young Georgina. Isn’t she pretty?’ Betty smiled, gently running her finger over the image of the chubby-cheeked child before returning it to the sideboard. ‘My only regret is not being blessed with my own children, but my friends, and young Georgie, more than make my life a happy one.’ She picked up the notebook that Douglas had laid on the arm of her chair when he reached for her hand. ‘May I borrow this for a while? That’s if you can bear to part with it?’
‘Please, take the notebook, Betty. I brought it for I’d rather my memories lived with someone who was connected to that time.’
Betty smiled her thanks. It was the first time that Douglas had called her by her Christian name. She’d asked at the beginning of the evening if he would be less formal as calling each other by the same surname was somewhat confusing and a little comic. She liked him calling her Betty. It felt good.
‘Now, young lady, have you fallen off your bike today?’
Freda kept quiet as the men of Erith fire station laughed at her discomfort. She’d managed to topple from her motorbike as it came to a standstill in front of the station on the first occasion she was allowed to ride the bike home from her training session. She’d have the last laugh when they realized that in less than a week she’d be a fully trained dispatch rider and not at their beck and call to make tea and answer the telephone every time it rang. Freda had been flattered when told she was trusted enough to take telephone messages, but the novelty had soon faded. In fact, she might even be stationed elsewhere so they’d definitely have to make their own tea then. She smiled to herself. ‘I could ask if the wall at the corner of Erith Road was still in one piece?’ she retaliated. ‘But then I’m too much of a lady to mention such a thing.’
A roar of laughter followed her words and one of the men who’d been joshing her looked shamefaced as his colleagues laughed at his discomfort.
‘I’m off home,’ Freda announced. ‘It’s been a long day.’ She glanced at the clock; it was too late to head to Alexandra Road, as Ruby would have locked up for the night. She’d go to Betty’s and use the bedroom that had been put at her disposal by the manager of Woolworths for when Freda’s fire station duties ran into the night. She yawned. First she had to push her motorbike behind the fire station and cover it with tarpaulin, then she would cross the road to Betty’s house and be in bed inside ten minutes. Reminding her colleagues to keep an eye on the motorbike, she bade them goodnight and headed outside. The watch had been a busy one with callouts to a house fire and an out-of-control bonfire. Thankfully no enemy action but even so, the air-raid siren went off in the early evening. It all made for a tiring night’s work after a day spent at the motorbike training school in the East End of London.
A flash of light from a doorway startled Freda. Someone was lucky not to be in trouble with an ARP warden . . . but surely that was Betty’s house? Whatever was she doing outside at this time of night? As she approached the little terraced house she spotted a man walking away . . . It was Douglas – and at this time of night! Freda thanked her lucky stars that she’d stopped for that last cup of tea, otherwise goodness knows what she’d have walked in on.
Betty rinsed the sherry glasses and placed them on the wooden draining board before turning off the kitchen light. She’d had such an enjoyable evening with Douglas as they had shared memories of Charlie. It was as if he was alive once more and the two people who cared for him most were able to fill the gaps in their knowledge of the brave soldier. They’d had so much to talk about that the evening had passed in a flash. A little thrill of excitement ran through her at the thought of seeing Douglas this coming weekend. She’d agreed to meet him to go dancing, something she’d not done with a man for a very long time. Raising her hand to her cheek where he’d kissed her goodnight, she gave a contented sigh and headed up to her bedroom. Because of Charlie, Douglas had come into her life. ‘Thank you, Charlie,’ she whispered as she made her way up to bed.
‘It’s only me,’ Freda said as she let herself into Betty’s house.
Betty walked back downstairs, pulling on her dressing gown. ‘I’m not in bed yet, Freda. Would you like me to make you a cup of cocoa? I’m dying to know how you got on with your training.’
‘That would be lovely, if you’re sure you aren’t tired? I thought I saw a light at your front door just now.’
Betty took milk from the pantry and poured some into a small pan. ‘It was Douglas. We had such a lovely evening chatting about Charlie and how our paths have crossed. It’s so strange to think Douglas and Charlie only became friends because of my surname being Billington.’
‘And you’re not related in any way?’ Freda asked. She noticed that Betty had a glow about her that she’d never seen before with the Woolworths store manager. Surely she wasn’t falling in love at her age?
‘Goodness no, it is a pure coincidence,’ Betty smiled.
Thank goodness for that, Freda thought to herself as she removed her coat. She’d have hated anything to upset her friend and suddenly finding oneself in love, as that was the way she could see Betty’s new friendship heading, would have been just awful.
Betty handed Freda a cup and saucer and they sat down to chat. ‘You’ve had a busy day. If it was me, I’d be exhausted, but then I am older than you.’
‘You’re still a young woman, Betty, and you always work long days. I have to confess to flagging this evening, having had to work my hours at the fire station after a morning shift at Woolies and an afternoon on my training course.’
‘So, tell me, what did they teach you today?’
‘We had to listen to a talk about basic repairs to our motorbikes. It wasn’t as interesting as learning about riding them. Tomorrow it is first aid.’
‘I can see how that wouldn’t be so interesting but both are worthwhile learning. Why, you could break down somewhere remote and not find anyone to help you. First aid is always useful, as you well know. You could pass on what you learn to the Girl Guides.’
Freda’s eyes lit up. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. They will love to know about first aid and I’ve promised to take my motorbike to one of the meetings and give a talk about being a dispatch rider for the Fire Service.’
‘When will you be operational?’
‘Would you believe, the end of next week. The training course has gone so quickly. I’m just a little bit scared at the enormity of the job.’
‘You will be fine, Freda. The Fire Service would not have put you forward for the job if they didn’t have faith in your abilities. I’m rather envious.’
‘And I’m in awe of the way you run Woolworths, Betty. I just hope that when this war is over they don’t demote you.’
‘It may happen, Freda. After all, I stepped into the job so a man could go off to war to defend our country. Perhaps if my workload diminishes after the war, I’ll think about another profession. I quite like the idea of riding a motorbike for the Fire Service like you or perhaps becoming an actress in the films.’
‘I take it you are pulling my leg?’ Freda asked with some uncertainty. She’d never known Betty joke about anything.
‘It’s a long time until I retire from Woolworths, Freda, and then I’ll have more years spread in front of me with no family or job. Sometimes I wish I’d done more with my life,’ she sighed.
‘I’ve never heard you speak like this before, Betty. Does it have something to do with Douglas coming into your life?’
Betty, who had stood to collect the empty cups, stopped to answer Freda. ‘I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. Douglas’s appearance has made me think about the past and the hopes and dreams I held dear to me at that time. By rights I’d have been a wife and mother by now. I might even have been a grandmother. Yes, that does sound strange, doesn’t it?’ she said, noticing Freda’s smile. ‘That was my dream back in 1917 when Charlie died.’
‘You can always have new dreams,’ Freda said sadly. ‘My dream used to be to run my own market stall and live with my parents, but after Dad died everything changed. The only reason I came to Erith in the first place was to look for Lenny when he went missing. Luckily I settled into a new life with my job at Woolworths, along with all my new friends. Until the war started I imagined a future where I would live here in Erith and work at Woolies. I just never thought things would change.’
‘We are so alike, Freda.’
Freda nodded. ‘We have Woolworths to thank for that. Just like Sarah and Maisie. It seems so much longer than four years since we all met.’
Betty placed the cups and saucers in the kitchen sink. They could wait until the morning. ‘Tell me, Freda, do you like Douglas?’
Freda stopped to think for a moment. ‘I haven’t got to know him as well as you have, but he accounted for himself in a respectable manner the day we nabbed him in the shop and he doesn’t come across as a ne’er do well, so yes, I should think he is a gentleman and decent enough. What do you think?’
Betty headed to the bottom of the steep staircase. ‘I feel he is an admirable man and I hope to get to know him better.’
Freda smiled to herself as she turned out the light. Betty might just be about to have her life changed beyond recognition. She could think of nothing better to happen to her boss and friend, although she still felt Betty was a little old for such things.
‘Now, have you got everything you need?’ Ruby asked as she stuck her head round the spare room to see Gwyneth and Myfi placing their clothes into a large walnut chest of drawers. ‘My, that’s seen some clothing in it over the years. This was the first piece of decent furniture my old man and me bought after we married. We didn’t have much back then, not that I’ve got much now, but we scrimped and saved for that chest of drawers.’
Gwyneth ran her hand over the polished surface. ‘It is indeed a fine piece of furniture. I must say, it is very good of you to take us in, Mrs Caselton. I still don’t know what we did to offend Mrs Munro,’ Gwyneth said with a sad look on her face.
‘Don’t you be worrying about her, my love. The pair of you are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish. We can let the authorities know tomorrow and do all the bits and pieces then. Now, has the young lady everything she needs before she goes to bed?’
Gwyneth ran her hand over the child’s dark hair. ‘I’m thinking she has, Mrs Caselton. I’ll be tucking her up in her bed soon.’
‘When she’s settled come downstairs and join me in the front room. I’ll put the kettle on,’ Ruby said before nodding to the child. ‘Night night, sweetheart. Happy dreams.’
Gwyneth took the cup of tea from Ruby. ‘There’s nothing better, is there?’ she sighed as she took a sip of the hot liquid. It’s been a very long day.’
Ruby nodded as she watched the woman. She’d never seen such shiny dark hair and vivid bright eyes. She didn’t know any Welsh people but if they were all like Gwyneth, then they were a good-looking nation, she thought to herself. ‘How did you and your daughter come to be in Erith?’ she asked.
Gwyneth paused before replying. ‘It’s been a year now. We moved to Maidstone to be close to a family member, but after our rented cottage was damaged in an air raid we’ve moved from digs to digs. Thankfully, I managed to find temporary work but then we found ourselves homeless again. Once registered as homeless the officials found us digs with Mrs Munro. You know what happened then.’
‘You couldn’t go home to Wales or live with your relative in Maidstone?’
Gwyneth shook her head so violently that her beautiful hair flowed around her shoulders. ‘No, it’s not an option,’ she said firmly before picking up her tea and drinking with shaking hands.
Ruby observed the woman’s reaction and remained silent. Something was amiss and she’d bide her time before asking. She prided herself on being a good judge of character and Gwyneth seemed a decent sort. This war affected people in so many ways and if Gwyneth did have a problem, then who was she to judge? ‘Well, you’re safe here now and Erith is a pretty good place to live, though I do say so myself.’
‘Do you live here alone, Mrs Caselton?’ Gwyneth asked, having composed herself quickly.
‘Goodness, no. I’m a widow, but this house is like Clapham Junction at times with all the toing and froing going on. My son, George, used to stay here when he came up from Devon for his work at Vickers, but he’s moved to Crayford for the duration. George’s girl, Sarah, is living with her mother-in-law just down the road – her husband flies Spitfires – and another lodger, Maisie, has married and lives with her RAF husband a few streets away. Freda still lives here but is away tonight on duty at the fire station. I’m sure you’ll get on well with Freda.’ Ruby stopped short of explaining about her friends and then chuckled.
‘Whatever is so funny, Mrs Caselton?’ Gwyneth asked in her lilting Welsh accent.
Ruby wiped her eyes and smiled. ‘I just thought that if Vera was correct and you and the kiddie are spies, then I’ve just given away a hell of a lot of information. Goodness me, I’ll be locked up in the Tower of London,’ she chuckled.
Gwyneth laughed. ‘Be assured that we are not spies, Mrs Caselton, but then I would say the same if I was,’ she added with a smile.
‘I’d soon find you out, love, we don’t have any secrets in this house. Oh, and please call me Ruby.’
Gwyneth nodded but the smile had left her face.
‘You’ve made a marvellous job of the shop-window display,’ Betty declared as she stepped back into the store after checking the view from outside Woolworths.
‘It’s all thanks ter Freda really. It was ’er who mentioned she ’ad to learn about first aid and it got me thinking about how many people would want to know how to ’elp if there was a raid or an accident. Getting hold of those booklets and stuff was a good idea too.’
Freda shrugged her shoulders. ‘Maisie was the brave person who went over to see one of the managers at Hedley Mitchell to ask to borrow a mannequin for the display. I wouldn’t have dared do that. They are far too posh for me in that shop.’
Maisie laughed aloud. ‘They all have ter use the lavvie, just like us.’
‘Shh, Maisie, our customers may hear you,’ Betty said. Personally she agreed with the girls. Some of the department heads at Hedley Mitchell did appear superior, but the majority of their staff shopped in the store she managed. If Hedley Mitchell was the biggest shop in Erith, then Woolworths was the most popular for ordinary folk, she liked to think.
‘The mannequin they found for us at the back of their storeroom was bashed about a bit and not likely to be used again. There are chunks of plaster missing on all the limbs and it’s bald,’ Freda said glumly.
‘All the better for us. We covered those parts with bandages. It looks healthier now than it did when we carried the thing over the road.’ Maisie grinned.
Betty smiled at Maisie. The woman looked a picture of health now after having looked quite down for the past weeks. Maisie had asked for a meeting, and Betty felt she had an inkling of what Maisie was going to say. She checked the time on the wall of the store. ‘I can spare a few minutes now to speak with you, Maisie. Let’s go up to my office. Freda, take your break now. I hear that Maureen has been baking rock cakes so you may be lucky and nab one before the rest of the staff eat them all.’
The three women took a final look at the window display, which was already attracting attention from passers-by. Satisfied they’d done their best, they headed to the door that led upstairs to the staff area. ‘Oh my goodness,’ Betty declared, ‘what a lovely surprise.’
Leaning against a wall by the door was a young soldier with striking red hair.
‘Ginger!’ Maisie screeched, giving the lad a big hug. ‘I’ve not seen yer since me wedding.’
‘I got home on leave yesterday and thought I’d look you all up,’ he grinned.
‘It’s a pleasure to see you, Ginger. Come upstairs and have a cup of tea. The morning break starts soon and I’m sure everyone will be pleased to see you. Freda’s going for her break – if you’ve forgotten your way, you can follow her. I’ll see you after I’ve had a few words with Maisie.’
‘I’ve not forgotten Woolworths, Miss Billington. In fact, it’s thinking about you all that’s kept me going at times.’
Freda glanced at Ginger as they headed up the staircase towards the staff area. She could see he’d grown up and wasn’t the young cheeky lad that she’d met on the day she arrived at Woolworths for her interview. There were a few lines around his eyes and his freckled face was thinner and paler than it had been when he’d been a trainee manager alongside Sarah’s husband, Alan. ‘You’re in luck: Maureen has rock cakes fresh from the oven. We don’t get as many treats these days as when you were here.’
‘Don’t tell me. There’s a war on.’ He grinned weakly as he stopped to look around the familiar room. ‘Nothing seems to have changed.’
‘Oh, but it has,’ Freda said. ‘Look at the cracks on the ceiling; we had a close call that day.’ Ginger gave Freda a sad smile and she blushed. ‘I’m sorry, you must think I’m a right ninny, what with you seeing action and all that. We’re all trying to do our bit here, you know. Sit down and I’ll get the tea.’
Tea took a little longer than usual as Maureen made such a fuss when she spotted Ginger. ‘We’re all going to the Erith Dance Studio on Saturday. You must join us. Alan will be there. It should be a good evening.’
Ginger looked at Freda. ‘Will you be going?’
‘I should be, unless I’m needed at the fire station.’ It would be her last weekend answering the telephone, as she would be a dispatch rider by the Monday, all being well.
Ginger smirked. ‘What’s a little thing like you doing putting out fires?’
Freda tried hard not to bristle at his comment and instead slid his tea in front of him and started to explain how she and her friends were all playing their part in fighting Hitler.
Betty hugged Maisie close. ‘I’m so pleased for you and David. It must have been hard for you after last Christmas. David must be so excited.’
Maisie extracted herself from Betty’s arms and sat down. ‘He’s not back until tomorrow so he doesn’t know.’
‘Oh my, you mean I’m the first to know? That seems rather a strange way to go about things, Maisie. David deserved to know first. After all, he is your husband.’
‘You’re not the first ter know. Sarah was with me when I went ter see the doctor. I need ter ask you something before I see David.’
Betty sat down opposite the pretty blonde woman. Even in wartime Maisie looked perfectly turned out. ‘Is there a problem, Maisie?’
Maisie shook her head. ‘No, but I’m handing in my notice. I need ter be careful and if that means not working until the baby is here, then I’m sorry.’ She raised her chin defiantly, expecting Betty to argue.
‘I’m so proud of you, Maisie. Putting your child’s well-being before anything shows you will be the perfect mother. I envy you.’
Maisie frowned. ‘So it’s all right that I’m giving up Woolies for now?’
‘Yes, of course it is. I won’t say it will be easy, but we will cope and I’m sure David will be relieved that you are cutting back for the sake of your child, and that is as it should be.’
Maisie was relieved that her boss understood her problem. ‘Thank you. I’ll still help out at the WVS and by doing a bit of sewing, so if there’s anything you need altering or making, just shout.’
‘It’s funny you should say that as I’ve been invited to go dancing on Saturday and I’m not sure if I have anything suitable to wear. Can you help me?’
‘Are you going to the dance at Erith Dance Studios?’
‘Why, yes, I am.’
‘I was going to ask yer to come along with us. What with Alan flying off God knows where and Freda most likely off on her motorbike, we thought it would be our last time fer a get-together.’
Betty had hoped to keep her friendship with Douglas a secret a little longer, but with most of her friends being at the dance she had no choice but to tell Maisie now. ‘I’ve been invited to the dance by Douglas Billington.’
Maisie raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
‘Please don’t read anything into this. It is simply his way of repaying me for inviting him to dinner the other day. He is a widow with young daughters. He is simply a friend,’ she explained.
And that’s why you’re blushing, Maisie thought to herself before beaming. ‘Then let me help you find something to wear. There’s no time to make something new, but I have an idea that will make Douglas have eyes only for you.’
Betty tried not to look excited at the thought of Douglas holding her in his arms as they danced. She had been worrying about her conservative wardrobe of clothes, but knew she could rely on Maisie to help her out. Saturday would be a day to remember.