Sarah handed Freda a cup of tea and sat down beside her. The girl was still shaking, even with the blanket that Maureen had wrapped round her shoulders when Alan had brought her into the house. ‘Here, sip this. I’ve added three spoons of sugar.’
‘Sarah, you can’t go giving me your sugar allowance. I’ll bring you some round tomorrow to replace this.’
‘Oh no you won’t. It’ll be a sad day when I can’t help a friend when she needs something sweet. It’s supposed to be good for shock. Alan has gone upstairs to put Georgie to bed and Maureen said she’d work to do in the kitchen so we can be alone to talk about what happened.’
‘But what about your supper? It’ll get cold. I’ll drink this and be off out the way. I don’t want to spoil your evening. You haven’t got long before Alan goes back on duty to goodness knows where. You should be with him, not taking care of me. I’ll be off home as soon as I’ve drunk my tea. And you wasted your sugar ration on me . . .’
‘Stop right there. Freda, you are my best friend. In fact, you’re the sister I never had. Alan did right to bring you to our home. We all want to help you.’
Freda felt her eyes start to water and quickly took a mouthful of tea while she blinked the tears away. ‘Thank you, I’m being daft. I’d like to tell you all what happened so please ask Maureen and Alan to come and listen.’
Sarah called out to her mother-in-law, Maureen, and then ran upstairs to speak to her husband. Once everyone was seated Freda explained what had occurred in the Odeon cinema.
Maureen, who’d started to weep as Freda told what happened, hugged Freda. ‘What a brute. Thank goodness the man seated behind you spotted what was happening. I dread to think what would have happened if Ginger had followed you from the cinema and you’d not bumped into Alan like you did. Thank goodness I fancied chips for my supper.’ She looked towards her son, Alan. ‘It could have been so much worse if you’d been alone.’
‘He used to be such a sweet lad,’ Sarah said. ‘I wonder what’s happened to him?’
‘It’s this damned war,’ Maureen said passionately. ‘It’s turned the world upside down.’
‘You can’t blame the war for this, Mum. Some men just . . . well, let me say that some men are not so good deep down inside. Ginger’s not been the same since he signed up. I thought he wasn’t himself last time I met him when he was on leave. Far too cocky for his own good and he’s started to like the drink too much. He wasn’t very happy at the dance the other night either.’
Freda nodded. ‘If it hadn’t been for you and George, I’d have not danced all evening. I only agreed to go to the pictures with him as he was so grumpy. I wish I hadn’t now.’
‘Sorry, kid, I should have kept an eye on you and this wouldn’t have happened,’ Alan apologized.
Freda gave him a shaky smile. ‘Don’t blame yourself, Alan. Perhaps I’m not meant to meet a decent bloke like Sarah and Maisie have. I’ll end up on the shelf like Betty and live out my years working for Woolworths.’
Sarah roared with laughter. ‘I do hope that was a joke, Freda? You’re still not twenty-one and Maisie and me could both tell you tales about failed romances. Believe me, one day you will meet the right man and be blissfully happy. You may even meet him at Woolworths,’ she added with a smile.
‘And even our Miss Billington seems to have a spring in her step since Douglas came on the scene,’ Maureen added, ‘so I’d not write her off just yet.’ She’d have liked to add that Ruby was also smitten with a certain retired policeman, but she wasn’t sure anyone else had noticed. ‘How about we all wipe away our tears and have a bite to eat? I put the fish and chips in the oven to keep warm and I’ve buttered some bread.’
‘You get started. There’s something I’ve got to do,’ Alan said as he pulled on his jacket and headed towards the door. ‘I won’t be long.’
‘Alan . . . don’t . . .’ Sarah called out, but it was too late as the front door banged shut behind him. ‘I hope he isn’t going to do anything stupid,’ she said.
Maureen served up the meal and placed Alan’s portion back in the oven with another plate on top so the chips didn’t dry out too much. Despite their worries they started to eat, although each of them kept looking towards the clock on the mantelpiece as time ticked by. ‘The chips will be past saving before too long,’ Maureen observed.
They’d all but finished when they heard a key in the door. Sarah was on her feet in seconds and hurrying to the door. ‘He’s all right,’ she called out as they both came into the room.
‘Sit yourself down and eat, we can hear what you’ve been up to afterwards. I take it you found Ginger?’
Alan grinned at his mum. ‘I thought you said I was to eat first?’
‘I’d like to know if that’s all right?’ Freda said. She was worried that Alan would be hurt if he went to find Ginger. Although short in stature, Ginger’s sturdy build could have done serious damage to Alan’s slimmer body.
Maureen fetched Alan’s supper and placed it on the table in front of him. ‘You can eat and talk just this once,’ she indicated to her son. ‘Usually I’d not allow bad manners at my table,’ she said to Freda, ‘but this time I think we all want to know what happened.’
Alan cut into the crispy batter and chewed a mouthful of food before speaking. ‘I thought he might still be at the cinema. He’s so cocky he could have stayed to watch the film. However, just as I got there Sergeant Jackson and another policeman came out of the Odeon. They had Ginger between them and carted him off. I asked what was going on and was told Ginger had started a fight when an usherette asked him to leave. There’d been a complaint made about him after you rushed off.’
Freda sighed. ‘Did he hurt anyone?’
‘I don’t know much more than that, but I do feel you should go to Erith police station and tell them your side of what happened.’
Sarah squeezed Freda’s hand. ‘He’s right, love, its best you speak to them.’
Freda looked horrified. ‘What if they think I was the cause of this? They may think I let men touch me like that and that Ginger and me have . . . Oh no, I couldn’t go to the police station. I’d rather die first.’
‘There’s no need to get upset, Freda. I have a better solution. Alan and Sarah can walk you home when you’re ready and if you see a light on at Mike Jackson’s house, you can knock and ask to speak to him. If not, it can be done in the morning. He’s a decent bloke and will advise you on what’s best. I suggest Sarah lends you a blouse so you look respectable and don’t worry Ruby. It’s up to you if you tell her what happened, but don’t do it while that nosy so-and-so Vera is about.’
‘That does make sense,’ Freda said. ‘I can’t really go home wearing this blanket.’
‘I’d rather have punched him on the nose,’ Alan muttered before spearing a chip with his fork.
Ruby picked up a broom and swept a pile of used bedding across the hall and into the yard behind the building. Returning to the task of sorting donated clothing, she spotted Vera arrive in her smart WVS uniform. ‘Watch out, this pile of bedding is hopping with fleas. I’ve started a pile for burning out in the yard. You’d best use a broom rather than get too close or you’ll be scratching for weeks to come.’
Vera just gave a sniff and walked past Ruby without a word, heading towards the table where Irene was sitting overseeing that day’s work for members of the WVS. She’d taken to her work like a duck to water, but today she would encounter Vera for the first time.
‘Oh, Mrs Munro,’ Irene said as she pointedly checked the clock on the wall of the church hall. ‘Thank you for joining us. I had planned for you to join the canteen van today but unfortunately it has just left. Instead would you help Mrs Caselton sort out the bags of donated items?’
Vera was confused. ‘Mrs Caselton? Do you mean Ruby or yourself?’
Irene sighed. The voluntary job hadn’t been what she’d expected. Her supervisory skills had not been accepted as joyfully as she’d anticipated and it was only with much persuasion that had she managed to wangle a desk job for a few days. Come next week she could be sorting flea-infested clothing with her mother-in-law.
Vera sniffed. ‘I thought with new members joining the WVS those of us who had been long-serving members would have been promoted?’ She looked pointedly at Irene and the empty chair beside her.
‘Mrs Munro, there is only so much administration to be done. At some time we will all have to head to the coalface and do our best for King and country.’
Vera wasn’t exactly sure what Irene was talking about. ‘I’ve never been near a coalface in my life and I’m not about to start now. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll get sorting the clothes that have just come in. You can let someone else work with the coal . . . unless of course there’s a free scuttle of the stuff going begging?’
Irene sighed and wished she were back in Devon amongst the women she called her equals. ‘Thank you, Mrs Munro. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to get through before my shift comes to an end.’ Taking a discreet look at her watch, she was pleased to see there were just a few minutes left before she could retrieve her coat and escape.
Vera wandered over to where Ruby was throwing some old clothing onto a pile on the floor. ‘Are they for the rag-rug group?’ she asked, bending down to pick up the pile of tattered rags. The group had grown since Maisie had volunteered to show the women of Erith how to create colourful rugs for their homes. They’d also made rugs for families who’d lost their homes in the bombings.
‘Don’t touch them,’ Ruby bellowed a little too loudly as other WVS volunteers turned to see what the shouting was about.
‘There’s no need to speak to me like that,’ Vera snarled back. ‘You’ve changed, Ruby Caselton, and it ain’t for the good. Why, you’ve even set your sights on the man I plan to marry . . .’ she blurted out before stopping dead in her tracks as she realized what she’d said.
Ruby roared with laughter. ‘You daft bugger, Bob’s never shown any interest in you. Why, it’s all in your mind. Pull yourself together, woman.’
In her heart Vera knew that Ruby was right, but she’d dreamt so often of having a husband who was devoted to her and who she could care for and Bob Jackson fitted the bill, not that she was going to admit that to Ruby. ‘Please yourself, but there wasn’t any need to holler your head off.’
‘Well, if you want to be hopping with fleas, why should I care?’ Ruby said, turning away so Vera didn’t see her laugh.
‘What do you mean?’
‘That pile of old clothes you picked up. It’s running alive with ’em. I was sweeping them out the door to put on a bonfire.’
Vera shrieked and started flapping her arms about, jumping from foot to foot. ‘I’ll be infested and this is my smart uniform. What shall I do?’ she moaned.
‘Let me take this lot out and put a match to it while you take off your mac and give it a good shake. Chances are you’ll have a few bites on your legs, but no one’s died from a flea bite.’
Vera eyed Ruby suspiciously. ‘Are you sure?’
Ruby nodded. ‘Sort yourself out and then we can have a tea break. Irene brought some cake along . . . unless it’s all gone,’ she added.
Vera needed no second bidding and shook her mac and headed to the kitchen before Ruby put a match to the bonfire.
Freda tapped nervously on Sergeant Jackson’s front door. She’d sat in the bay window of Ruby’s house watching from behind a heavy green velvet curtain, keeping an eye on the house across the road until she’d seen his father, Bob, heading off to the allotment, going by the clothes he was wearing and the spade in his hand.
‘Why, Freda, what a lovely surprise. What can I do for you?’
‘I wondered if I could have a word with you, Sergeant Jackson?’
‘Come on in and, please, my name is Mike, we’ve known each other long enough not to stand on formalities.’
Freda followed Mike into a front room that was the mirror image of Ruby’s home. ‘Actually, it’s not really a social call. I have a little problem and I’d like your advice,’ she said nervously.
‘Advice, eh? That sounds serious. Would you like a drink while we chat?’ he offered as he showed her to a comfy armchair placed by the fireside. Mike sat in an identical chair opposite.
‘No thank you. I had one with Ruby before she went off to her WVS meeting. I’ve got to be at Woolworths in an hour for my shift.’
Mike nodded. ‘So what can I help you with?’
Freda felt her cheeks start to burn. ‘It’s a little embarrassing.’
‘Let me help you then. Would it have anything to do with young Ginger being arrested yesterday evening?’
Freda hung her head in shame. ‘Yes, it does, and I’m afraid I’m involved. It may even be my fault he was arrested.’
Mike nodded his head. ‘I was told a young woman was seen with him earlier. What makes you think you’re to blame?’
‘Well, he tried to kiss me and I wouldn’t let him and he became rather insistent. I left the cinema as I was upset and bumped into Alan, who took me back to his mum’s house.’
Mike looked concerned. ‘Did he hurt you, Freda?’
‘No, although he ripped my blouse. It was an old one so doesn’t matter, although I’d be a fool if I didn’t say he frightened me. He used to be such a sweet lad,’ Freda said as a large tear dropped onto her cheek.
‘There, there, don’t you go upsetting yourself, Freda. I shouldn’t really tell you this, but Ginger was arrested because he started a fight with another man. It was nothing you did.’
‘But there was a man who told Ginger to stop upsetting me,’ Freda said, brushing the tear away with her fingers. ‘I’d hate to think I caused a fight and a person was hurt. Ginger seems to be so grumpy these days and not anything like he used to be when we all worked together at Woolworths.’
‘The war affects people in different ways, Freda, and Ginger will learn from what happened once he has time to think about his actions. If it’s any consolation, he is nursing a cut lip and a dented ego today. He came off worse, as the man he upset was a boxer in his youth and can still throw a punch.’
Freda smiled. She’d like to have seen that. No doubt Ginger would have been surprised after the way he spoke to the man in the cinema.
‘We won’t be pressing charges as he is due to return to his regiment later today, so you won’t see any more of him around town for a while,’ Mike assured her. ‘So no more tears, eh?’
‘That’s a relief,’ Freda sighed. ‘I just wish . . .’
‘What do you wish, Freda? Are you unhappy?’ Mike liked Ruby’s young lodger. He’d watched her grow up in the years since she’d arrived in Erith as a frightened child and had been on duty when her brother turned up in the town. He wondered more than a few times what would have happened if she hadn’t been given a job at Woolworths and made friends with Sarah and Maisie. She was a plucky kid, which was proved by her eagerness to join the Fire Service, even if it meant learning to ride a motorbike.
Freda sighed. ‘I just wish I had a nice boyfriend and was looking forward to settling down with my own home and a family. Do you think I’m daft to feel this way, Mike?’
Mike ran his fingers through his short hair. ‘I wouldn’t say you’re daft. Isn’t it what we all want? It’s the natural progression of things. Some of us just don’t achieve it.’
Freda put her hand to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, Mike. Here’s me going on about my own dreams and never thinking that perhaps you wanted to marry and settle down.’
Mike shrugged his shoulders. ‘It just never happened for me. I had my chances but I’ve never met anyone who wanted to be a policeman’s wife.’
‘You’d have made a good father, Mike. I’ve seen you with the youngsters in the street – you’ve got time for everyone.’
‘I could have been a grandfather by now,’ Mike said ruefully.
Freda’s eyes opened wide. ‘You could?’
‘I was at school with Sarah’s dad. Granted, he’s a couple of years older than me but close enough not to make any difference. Look at him, he has a married daughter and a granddaughter.’
‘You look so much younger than George. No one would think you could be a grandfather,’ Freda said, looking at the tall dark-haired man with the athletic build. In comparison Sarah’s dad was already grey-haired and approaching old age. Perhaps it was the responsibility of his job at Vickers that had aged him. Sarah had hinted that her dad did important war work. ‘Never say never, Mike.’
Mike laughed. ‘Well, if you don’t find yourself married by the time you are thirty, come and knock on my door and I’ll get down on one knee and propose. That’s if I can get down on my knees by then,’ he laughed.
‘Oh, Mike, you’re a right tonic and I promise to keep that in mind,’ she laughed as she rose and headed to the door. ‘I’d better get going as I’ve a busy day ahead and I don’t want Betty reprimanding me for being late.’
Mike watched as Freda headed back across the road to Ruby’s house, stopping to talk with Gwyneth, who was just leaving. Now, there’s a woman a man could settle down with, he thought to himself as he recalled holding the rosy-cheeked woman in his arms only days before at the Erith Dance Studios. He’d wished there could have been more than one dance but as a single man he was honour-bound to ask the other ladies present to take a turn around the floor, and before he knew it they were playing the last waltz and Gwyneth was in the arms of another. ‘You daft bugger,’ he muttered to himself. ‘As if a beautiful young woman would be interested in a duffer like you.’ He raised his hand in greeting to Gwyneth as she passed by, before closing the front door and going to the kitchen to prepare his solitary meal.
‘Come in and take a seat, Gwyneth,’ Betty said as the nervous woman knocked on the open door of the temporary manager’s office. ‘No doubt Maisie would have told you about the interview procedure at Woolworths?’
Gwyneth nodded enthusiastically, sending her shiny shoulder-length hair waving around her shoulders. She wasn’t going to tell Betty Billington how Maisie, Freda and Sarah had giggled about their interview at the store on the day they met and how Sarah had helped the others with the arithmetic test. She’d sighed when Sarah told how she also met Alan at the store. She would love to have some romance in her life. It had been a long time since . . .
Betty took several sheets of paper from a file. ‘I have an application form as well as an arithmetic test for you to complete. As you are on your own I’d usually say you could sit here in my office to complete the paperwork, but I have a meeting in ten minutes. So, I’ll take you through to the canteen and organize a cup of tea. Maureen is preparing staff lunches and will take care of you. You can sit there and complete the questions. There’s no rush as I’ll be the best part of an hour. Come along,’ she said as she hurried from the room.
Gwyneth grabbed the papers from Betty’s desk and, picking up her handbag and gas mask, she hurried after the store manager. She’d been warned by Maisie that Betty was a different person when at work and, as she was ushered to a table in the corner of the staff canteen, Gwyneth could see the difference between the efficient manager and the woman she’d met at the dance in her beautiful oyster-coloured gown, who had gazed adoringly at the handsome grey-haired man who didn’t leave her side all evening.
‘Hello, my love,’ Maureen said as she wiped the tabletop where Betty had seated Gwyneth before rushing off for her meeting. ‘There you go, all nice and clean so you don’t get your papers messy. Sarah said as how you were going to join us at Woolies. Now, how about a cup of tea and a slice of my homemade bread pudding?’
‘That would be lovely. Thank you, Mrs Gilbert,’ Gwyneth said as she reached for her purse to pay.
‘I’ll have none of that,’ Maureen said, raising her hands in horror. ‘Why, you’re one of us now and it would be a sad world if I couldn’t give someone a cuppa and a bite to eat when they come along for an interview. You get writing and I’ll make a fresh pot. Why, I might even join you. I’ve got a little time before the lunch rush starts. That’s if it’s all right with you?’
‘Please do,’ Gwyneth said with a smile before pulling a sheet of paper towards her and thinking about the arithmetic questions. Thankfully she was a dab hand with giving change and adding up pounds, shillings and pence from the jobs she’d had working in a butcher’s shop and recently at a busy greengrocer’s. By the time Maureen appeared balancing two steaming cups of tea and a plate with chunks of bread pudding Gwyneth was chewing the pencil and looking at the application form with a worried look on her pretty face.
‘Having problems with the adding up, are you?’ she asked, passing a cup of tea to Gwyneth.
‘No, I’ve completed them. It’s the application form I’m having problems with. I didn’t know that Woolworths would want to know so much about me,’ she said glumly, pushing the paperwork away from her with a sigh. ‘I’ll tell Miss Billington that I’ve changed my mind and don’t want the job after all.’
‘Oh, don’t do that,’ Maureen said sadly. ‘I’m sure we can sort something out. What’s the problem?’
‘It asks about next of kin and children.’
‘I can’t see that being a problem. Just add an adult relative and write down young Myfi’s name under the part where it asks for details of your children.’
Gwyneth shook her head. ‘I’d rather not write anything about Myfi.’
Maureen frowned. ‘Why ever not? Is there a problem with the child? I hope you don’t mind me asking, only I’ve noticed how she never speaks. Is she poorly, love?’
Gwyneth nodded, a look of sorrow spread across her pretty face. ‘In a manner of speaking she is. She’s not spoken since she saw her mother killed in front of her two years ago.’
‘Her mother? You mean she’s not yours?’
‘No, Myfi is my niece. She’s my late sister’s daughter, but I love her as if she were my own child and I’ll protect her until my last dying breath.’
‘But your surname . . . ?’
‘Myfi took my name. I thought it best at the time and as she doesn’t speak it didn’t seem to be a problem.’
‘Then I suggest you write the child’s name on the form. The paperwork is just a formality and it’s not as if you’ve abducted her, is it? You haven’t, have you?’ Maureen added as an afterthought.
‘No . . . no, I haven’t abducted her. I’m just keeping her safe from—’
Both women jumped as two cleaners entered the staffroom and headed towards the counter.
‘Let me go and serve these two and then we can chew over your problem. Your secret is safe with me. Don’t worry about what you write on that form. It’s not as if it will do any harm, is it? Now, drink up your tea before it gets cold and stop your worrying. You’re amongst friends now and there’s no need to be afraid.’
Gwyneth nodded and picked up the pencil, quickly writing Myfi’s name in the required box. She was sick of the pretence and had hoped that now she’d moved to an area where she wasn’t known she could start life anew. Albeit it with a new identity and free of her violent husband. As much as she loved Myfi, it was a godsend that she never spoke. Come the day she did, they would have to move on again before anyone heard the truth.
‘I thought we could start you on the crockery counter,’ Betty said as she showed Gwyneth through the busy Woolworths store. ‘It was Maisie’s domain and I’m sure she will be able to give you a few tips about how she ran things. We will miss her, but I’m relieved we have a friendly face to take over.’
Gwyneth hurried to keep up with Betty as she strode through shoppers heading to where flower-covered cups and saucers could be seen carefully stacked on the glass-fronted mahogany counter. ‘I haven’t had experience of selling china,’ she said, wishing she’d worn more comfortable shoes as it felt as though a blister was already forming on her left heel.
‘Oh, it’s not just crocks,’ Betty said, looking over her shoulder. ‘We’ve amalgamated the pots and pans with the crockery as supplies aren’t as reliable as they used to be.’ Betty waited for Gwyneth to catch up. ‘You’ll need to wear comfortable shoes if you intend standing on your feet all day,’ she said, noticing how Gwyneth limped behind her.
Gwyneth nodded politely, but inside she was thinking that at least her painful feet would take her mind off the fact that her past might very soon catch up with her, and it could be as soon as Christmas.