3 JUNE 1941
The next day on dinner break, the Victory Knitters had gathered in the canteen and were busy untangling balls of wool, hearts all of a flutter over the previous day.
‘Some of them sailors were ever so handsome, weren’t they?’ said Kathy. ‘I didn’t ’alf fancy mine. I even touched his dicky for good luck.’
‘I beg your parsnips, young lady,’ Sal screeched, as Daisy laughed so hard she choked on her tea.
‘You know, Sal, his dicky . . . sailor’s collar,’ Kathy replied, looked bemused as the rest of the sewing bee fell about. ‘It’s supposed to bring good fortune.’
‘Yes, sorry, Kathy love. I get you,’ Sal smiled. ‘Mine was a bit of all right too. Not that I’d dare go there, mind, but he was ever such a lovely chap, and it was so good to put a face to a name. You know, see the reason why we’ve all been working so hard.’
‘I’ll admit,’ said Vera, ‘it was very gratifying to meet them, especially the captain. He was at great pains to say what a morale booster the crew found our comforts to be, and the quilt is going on display in the town hall as an example of the fortifying relationships that can be forged between factories and the navy, so the mayor himself personally told me.’
The forelady glowed with pride, and just a hint of smugness. ‘Not something London Brothers can lay claim to, I’ll wager.’
Behind her back, Daisy rolled her eyes.
‘Apparently, there is even some talk of them holding a Navy Warship Week next year during which the community sponsors a ship,’ Vera went on, oblivious. ‘Our self-denial and endeavours are an inspiration to all. Trout’s is quite the big noise.’
‘I tell yer what’s really inspiring,’ piped up Pat. ‘My sailor only gave me a carton of fags.’ With that, she broke into song. ‘You are my sunshine. My double Woodbine. My box of matches. My Craven “A”!’
‘Behave,’ laughed Sal, playfully poking Pat with her knitting needle.
‘It was a wonderful day, though, weren’t it?’ agreed Ivy. ‘Really took me out of myself.’
Everyone but Flossy murmured their agreement, and Sal clamped her hand over her mouth.
‘Flossy, forgive us – how bleedin’ tactless of us, blathering on about how wonderful our sailors were and forgetting.’ Her mouth twisted into a scowl. ‘That Tommy rotter. I could string him up for leading you on like that when he’s already married, and with a little ’un in tow too.’
‘There’s always one bad apple in the tree,’ muttered Ivy, sagely.
‘What I don’t get is how he thought he’d get away with it?’ asked Daisy. ‘He knew Flossy was going to be there to greet him. Besides, he just didn’t strike me as the type to do the double shuffle.’
‘Trust me,’ snapped Sal, her voice brittle, as she pushed back from the table. ‘Some men don’t think with their brains. They’re led by another useless appendage. Who wants another cuppa?’
‘He ought to have it chopped off, in that case,’ agreed Pat, forcefully ramming her knitting needle into a ball of wool. ‘Yes, please. Be a dear and see if they’ve got any more biscuits while you’re up, Sal.
‘To be honest, you’ve had a lucky escape, ducky,’ Pat ploughed on, oblivious to Flossy’s discomfort. ‘I’ve seen women taken in by married men before and it ain’t pretty. Five minutes’ pleasure, nine months’ pain and a lifetime of ruin,’ she nodded with relish. ‘If you want my advice, keep yer hand on yer ha’penny until you’ve got a ring on yer finger.’
Flossy squirmed and wished the canteen floor would swallow her whole.
‘Let’s change the subject, shall we?’ said Peggy tactfully. ‘Who’s going to the dance tonight at Shoreditch Town Hall?’
‘Ooh, not ’alf,’ said Daisy dreamily. ‘I’ve missed the dances so much. They’d have started much earlier in the summer if it weren’t for the bombs. I shouldn’t think they’ll host them in Victoria Park this year, but the summer dances there are the business.’
Daisy stood up and pulled Flossy to her feet, playfully dancing her round the canteen. Flossy giggled uncontrollably, her cares over Tommy quickly pushed to one side, as the beautiful seamstress led her jokingly round the floor.
‘Dancing your cares away under the silver moonlight by the bandstand . . . The quickstep, the waltz and, my favourite, the tango!’ she said breathily.
‘If you’re clever,’ interrupted Ivy.
‘And don’t forget that new dance from America, the jitterbug,’ piped up Kathy.
‘If you’re stupid,’ smirked Sal, returning with a small plate of scavenged broken biscuits and setting them down on the tabletop.
‘But the fact the dances are coming back,’ Kathy replied. ‘Do you think it’s a good sign, that maybe we’re winning the war?’
‘I don’t think we can even dare to dream, Kathy love,’ said Sal.
‘All the more reason to go tonight and let our hair down,’ said Daisy, finally releasing her grip on Flossy. ‘I just want to dance and forget, and then dance some more.’
Vera’s face knotted with disapproval. ‘I wonder at the wisdom of it. Does it not feel disrespectful to Dolly and Lily’s family, not to mention all the women at Trout’s who have lost loved ones and homes, if they see you lot out kicking up your heels? Isn’t it, well, a bit fast?’
‘Do you mind? I ain’t no Jezebel,’ Daisy protested hotly, but Sal placed a firm hand on her arm to silence her.
‘I understand what you’re saying, Vera, but we’re not dancing to forget Dolly or Lily; we’re dancing to forget our cares, and after everything we’ve been through, don’t we deserve to chase our happiness where we can?’
‘But still, can’t you wait until the war is over and our boys are home?’ Vera asked.
‘I think when this war is over, it’s us women on the Home Front and in the factories who should be getting the medals,’ Sal shot back. ‘We’re the real heroes, if you ask me. Look at how we’ve carried on working through the bombs, night after night, clocking on each morning without so much as a whinge, while our lives and our families are torn apart.
‘This war has cost me dear,’ she said hoarsely. ‘My boys and my husband away, and God knows when I’ll see them next, and my home destroyed. I have nothing left . . .’ Her voice cracked, and Daisy leaped to her side and placed her arms on her shoulders in a gesture of total loyalty. ‘Nothing except my friends, and this place, but I refuse to be downhearted. No one can dare call us women the “gentler sex” any longer. We have proved ourselves to be braver and more resourceful than any man.’
Heads nodded in agreement and Sal scowled, pushing the plate of broken biscuits away. ‘We didn’t ask for this war, but we sure as hell have taken it on, so if we wanna dance, we should dance.’
*
After dinner break, Peggy caught Lucky before she sat down behind her machine.
‘Lucky, got a moment?’ she whispered.
‘Anything for my beautiful girl,’ he replied, wiping his hands on an oily rag.
‘I’m worried about Flossy,’ she admitted. Lucky had told her how he had found a heartbroken Flossy huddled by Dolly’s grave after discovering Tommy’s deception, and coming so soon as it had after discovering the truth about her mother, she feared for her friend.
‘I’ve spoken to my mother, and we both think it’s a good idea for Flossy to move in with us permanently. Now the bombs are easing off, she’ll have to start thinking about getting proper digs again sooner or later. She can’t live underground forever. I just wanted to check that you were happy with that.’
Lucky reached out and smudged the tip of her nose with his old oily rag. ‘I think, Miss Peggy Piper, it’s an excellent idea. I’m so proud of you and can’t wait to make you Mrs Lucky Johnstone.’
Casting a sideways glance to check the forelady wasn’t looking, he gathered her in his arms and gave her a long and lingering kiss. But you couldn’t hide anything at Trout’s.
‘Can’t you keep yer dirty paws off her for more than a minute?’ heckled Sal. The teasing was good-natured. Everyone in the place knew there was no chance of any slap and tickle for the young couple until the wedding ring was firmly in place.
Peggy laughed and felt a sweet rush of delirium. A year ago, she had been too stupid and stubborn to see sense, not even able to accept a jam jar of flowers from the man she adored. But God had granted her a second chance, and she was truly blessed. Now, she was openly in love and she didn’t give two hoots who knew it.
*
Flossy watched Lucky and Peggy’s lingering kiss and felt her eyes glisten. She truly felt nothing but happiness for her good friend and the love she had found with such a fine chap. But why, oh why did Tommy’s betrayal grate her heart?
The women’s excited chatter and song competed for airspace over the noise of the machines, but Flossy tuned them out and concentrated on her bundles, so much so that she didn’t see Pat’s excited face until it was hovering right in front of hers.
She jumped so violently she nearly ran the needle over her finger.
‘Pat! You startled me,’ Flossy exclaimed, taking her foot off the treadle. ‘Whatever is it? We’ll have Vera over here in a minute.’
‘Never mind that, Floss,’ said Pat. ‘I think you ought to come here and take a butcher’s at this.’
Flossy looked up, startled, to find most of the girls had left their stations and were peering excitedly out of the window.
‘What’s the meaning of this?’ thundered the forelady, marching the length of the factory floor. ‘No one gave you permission to stop.’
‘But, Mrs Shadwell,’ babbled Kathy, gesturing to the street outside, ‘it’s the sailor what done the dirty on Flossy.’ She turned to Flossy. ‘He’s got some front turning up here after what he did to you.’
‘Pipe down, Kathy,’ chastised the forelady, flinging the window open and glaring out.
Flossy could make out a deep male voice over the commotion.
‘Flossy Brown, I know you’re in there. Come to the window.’
In a trance, Flossy moved to the windowsill and peeked out. There, on the street five floors down, stood Tommy. Her heart leaped into her mouth. He looked so forlorn. But then a rush of anger flooded her body. He hadn’t looked quite so dejected when his wife and daughter had shown up to greet him.
‘Leave me alone!’ she yelled.
When Tommy spotted her, his face lit up. ‘Flossy!’ he cried. ‘I was waiting for you. Why didn’t you come?’
‘Oh, I came all right, but I wasn’t the only one waiting. Seems your wife and daughter were waiting too. That’s a pretty low blow, isn’t it? Pretending your wife had passed.’
For a second, Tommy looked confused; then he shook his head. ‘You’ve got it all wrong, you daft apeth!’ he yelled. ‘Come on down so I can explain.’
No one on the floor breathed a word, and Flossy resented having her private life turned into such a public spectacle.
‘I don’t give a tinker’s cuss for anything you have to say. Save it for your wife. I’m not coming down,’ Flossy replied.
‘You heard her,’ called down Vera, with a gleam in her eye that, if Flossy didn’t know better, told her the forelady was half enjoying herself. ‘Now clear off or I’ll be contacting your superiors.’
‘If you won’t come down, then I’m coming up!’ he shouted.
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Flossy shrieked.
‘Watch me,’ he called back, before turning on his heel and sprinting back up the cobbled street in the direction of the factory door.
Flossy whirled round. ‘What shall I do?’
For a solitary moment, there was silence, before all hell broke loose. The women squawked and flapped about in a state of excitement.
‘He can’t come up here . . . He wouldn’t dare . . . He only is . . . As I live and breathe!’
‘Gawd, the excitement,’ babbled Ivy. ‘I gotta go spend a penny. Don’t let anything happen before I get back,’ and with that, she scurried off all in a lather.
Only Pat stood stock-still in the chaos, rolling up her sleeves. ‘I’m gonna knock his block off,’ she said cheerfully.
Archie’s voice cut through the din. ‘For the love of God, will you all calm down? It’s like Christmas Eve in a turkey factory in here. Now, will someone please tell me what’s going on?’
‘Flossy’s sailor’s taking liberties and he’s only on his way . . .’ Daisy’s voice trailed off, for suddenly, there on the fifth floor of Trout’s, looking even more handsome in the flesh in his sailor’s-leave tiddly suit with extra-wide trousers, his dark hair streaked with silver, was Tommy.
‘I have nothing to say to you, Tommy. Please leave,’ Flossy whispered, walking with as much dignity as she could muster back to her machine.
‘You heard her,’ warned Archie protectively. ‘Now on your way.’
‘Yeah, you’re about as welcome in ’ere as a hole in a lifeboat,’ Pat jeered.
‘I’m gonna give you precisely ten seconds to sling yer hook,’ added Lucky, who had heard the commotion and planted himself next to the foreman.
Tommy looked at Archie and removed his cap. ‘I promise you, sir, I didn’t come here to cause no trouble.’
‘Then what have you come here for, lad?’ asked Archie.
The sailor turned to where Flossy was sitting, and placed one hand over his heart. With the other, he pointed to her. ‘To tell that girl over there that I love her with all my heart.’
A hush descended over the floor as all eyes turned to Flossy. She felt her lip start to tremble and bit down hard.
‘Please, Flossy, I promise you that what I am about to say is the whole truth, and I need you to believe me,’ he implored. ‘That wasn’t my wife. My wife did pass away.’
‘Oh yes,’ she mumbled. ‘So who was that throwing her arms round you?’
‘That was one of my sisters, Irene. Remember I told you about her in my letters? She’s been looking after my six-year-old daughter, Betsy, while I’ve been serving.’
‘Your daughter?’ screeched Sal, unable to contain herself.
‘Oh, I know I should have told you I had a daughter,’ Tommy went on, ‘but I wanted to wait and tell you in person. I worried you wouldn’t want a bar of me if you knew I had a child. But since my wife died, my daughter, Betsy, well, she’s the most precious thing in my life. I didn’t think I’d ever care for anyone as much as I do her, but then you came along. Your letters have made this war feel bearable. I lived for them at sea. I’ve memorized each and every single one. I’ve got them all right here,’ he added, patting the jacket pocket over his heart.
‘And, well, here’s the thing. I love you, Flossy Brown.’
Slowly, he started to walk towards her machine, the women moving out of his way as he passed. When he reached Flossy, he paused. Up close, Flossy could suddenly see for the first time how nervous he was. His large hands trembled as he gripped on to her sewing machine for support.
‘What . . . what I wanted to ask you all along was whether you could be a mother to another woman’s child. I accept it’s a lot to take on, but, well . . . we want you. We need you. Please come to my house after work for tea, meet my little girl and the rest of my family. I know they’ll fall in love with you like I have.’
In that moment, it was so quiet you could have heard a mouse scuttle across the floor. All eyes were on Flossy as she grappled with his words. Instinctively, Flossy’s gaze was drawn to Lucky, the man she trusted like a big brother. He smiled and gave her the tiniest nod. If he believed it, then it was good enough for her.
Flossy let out a long, slow sigh and shook her head in frustration at her own stupidity.
‘What time would you like me?’ she asked, with a tremulous smile.
‘Seven p.m. And don’t be late,’ he replied, with a chuckle, as he scrawled his address on the back of an empty cigarette packet. ‘My mum will have been out on her hands and knees all day whitening our front doorstep in your honour.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Flossy said. ‘I’ll be there this time.’
With that, Tommy reached over the top of her Singer and tenderly took her face in his hands. ‘I’ve been waiting a long time to do this,’ he murmured, his pale blue eyes boring into hers.
For a moment, Flossy thought she might faint on the spot, but then, oh my! His kiss was so warm and sweet on her lips. She felt her eyes flicker shut and her body melt to his touch as she surrendered to the moment. As first kisses went, it was magical and Flossy wished it would never end.
With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see the women’s faces, but their deafening applause and stamping of feet told her they approved of her decision.
When Tommy’s lips finally left hers, she blinked and opened her eyes, to see half the floor staring at them doe-eyed.
‘Blimey O’Riley! I’ve come over all peculiar,’ Kathy said, fanning herself down with Vera’s clipboard.
‘Until tonight,’ Tommy grinned, replacing his cap. ‘And thank you, Flossy, for giving me a second chance.’
As he strode from the floor, Archie clapped him on the shoulder. ‘That took guts,’ he said approvingly. ‘Nice to have a bit of happy news on the floor for a change.’
Five minutes later, Ivy burst through the doors, her face scarlet from racing up five flights.
‘I just pissed faster than a Russian racehorse. So what’d I miss?’ she wheezed, and the laughter was so loud it carried clean out of the hole in the bomb-shattered roof and over the rooftops of the East End.
When the end-of-shift bell sounded, it was hard to say who was more excited, those going to the dance up at Shoreditch Town Hall or Flossy off to meet Tommy and his family.
‘I feel like someone’s let a bag of ferrets loose in my tummy,’ Flossy gushed to Peggy and Lucky.
‘That’s a good sign. It means you’re in love,’ teased Peggy, as she untied her headscarf and shook out her curls.
‘Calm down, Peggy,’ cautioned Lucky, as he went round oiling the machines. ‘It’s a bit early for that. Now, Flossy. Peggy and I shan’t go to the dance tonight; instead, we are going to chaperone you. This Tommy fella looks like he’s on the level, but how much do we really know about him when all is said and done? Besides which, I think your welfare worker from the home would have a fit on the mat if she heard you’d been gallivanting off on your own to sailors’ houses.’
‘What’s it got to do with them?’ Peggy asked.
‘I am under their supervision until I turn twenty-one and they are supposed to vet any potential suitors,’ Flossy interjected. ‘So yes, I would like that, thank you, Lucky,’ she replied, suddenly feeling shy.
‘Well, if Lucky and I are to supervise this date, then I really must insist on dolling you up a little,’ said Peggy. ‘You know what mothers are like. She’ll be judging you the moment you’ve got a foot over the doorstep. I’ve got the perfect dress you can borrow, and Mother’s got some paint-on hosiery for your legs. It’s called Cyclax Stockingless Cream and you’d honestly never know it wasn’t—’
‘No,’ Flossy interrupted. ‘No, thank you, Peggy. I appreciate your kind offer, truly I do, but I don’t want to be someone I’m not. Tommy and his family must take me as they find me. I’ll brush my hair and wash my face, and I have a perfectly good pair of slacks and a nice blouse I can wear, but that’s it.’
‘Slacks?’ Peggy snorted derisively. ‘Women in trousers, I ask you. Another downside of the war. I really can’t see this fashion for women in trousers catching on, you know.’
‘That’s as maybe, Peggy, but I don’t think pretending to be someone I’m not is the best way to start off a relationship.’
‘Couldn’t agree more, Floss,’ said Lucky, planting a kiss on her cheek and making her blush. ‘Now let’s get going.’
Tommy’s family home was in Poplar, two and a half miles from Bethnal Green, in the direction of the docks. With none of the buses running on their usual routes, as so many roads were closed off and reduced to rubble, it took the trio of friends far longer to get there than they imagined. By the time they paused outside the small terrace, Flossy was flustered.
‘Oh, we’re late,’ she blustered. ‘Tommy told me not to be late and I so wanted to make a good impression, and now his mother will think me rude . . .’
‘Calm down, gal,’ chuckled Lucky, removing his cap as he knocked firmly on the door.
‘Goodness, I thought Bethnal Green had been hit hard,’ said Peggy, as she gazed in dismay at the long, narrow street. Huge chunks of the road were boarded off. Tommy’s end of the street stood isolated, surrounded by a barren wasteland of rubble, and the grime-covered houses that were still standing looked punch-drunk and seemed to slide tipsily towards the pavement.
‘The houses around the docks were worst hit,’ frowned Lucky, ‘proving there’s always someone worse off than yourself . . .’ His voice trailed off as the door swung open and a wiry woman who looked to be in her sixties squinted back at them. She wiped her hands on a wrap-over apron and smiled broadly. The smile peeled ten years off her.
‘Come in, come in, do. You’ll catch your death out there,’ she urged, hustling them in over the doorstep, even though it was a perfectly fine summer’s evening.
‘Which of you pretty girls is the special lady my Tommy’s been telling me all about?’ she asked.
‘Erm, that would be me, ma’am,’ said Flossy, stepping forward nervously and wishing she had worn that dress after all.
Tommy’s mother stood back in the gloom of the passageway to appraise her. ‘Ooh, you’re a tonic on the eye,’ she grinned. ‘My Tommy’s told me ever such a lot about you, reckoned it was your letters what kept him going out there. Come and meet the rest of the family.’
Flossy’s mouth felt as dry as dust as she was led into a warm, light-filled kitchen.
‘You must be special because Mum’s agreed to open up the front parlour,’ said Tommy, rising from an easy chair and coming to greet them. ‘I thought that was a privilege that would be only be granted to the King himself.’
‘Get away, you scoundrel,’ his mother cackled, lifting a tea towel off the range bar and swiping him with it.
Flossy’s heart was in her mouth as she and Tommy locked eyes nervously. Out of his uniform, and wearing a smart suit and pressed shirt, a dazzling white against his dark braces, he looked even more handsome and, for a second, Flossy didn’t know where to put herself.
Tommy’s smile was soft and tender, though, as he shook hands with Lucky, then placed a gentle hand on Flossy’s back and guided her into the heart of the kitchen. ‘I’m so pleased you came,’ he whispered in her ear.
A fire flickered in the grate, a huge pan of potatoes bubbled on the range, and the spicy aroma of roasting pork filled the room. Tommy had said in his letters he had five sisters, but all crowded into the kitchen, knitting, darning and listening to the wireless, they seemed to number at least twice that. The Bird sisters couldn’t hide their curiosity and gazed at her with open, smiling faces. In the corner, in an ancient rocking chair, sat a very elderly woman with a tangle of knitting and a snuff pot on her lap.
‘That’s Nanny Bird,’ said Tommy’s mum. ‘Mum, say hello to our Tommy’s new beau, Flossy!’ she hollered.
The woman grunted and looked up, the feathery whiskers on her chin twitching. ‘Who you calling bossy?’
‘No, Mum, Flossy . . . Oh, never mind . . . Mum’s a bit deaf,’ she explained.
‘She’s the only one who’s not been much bothered by the bombs,’ piped up one of Tommy’s sisters. Flossy suddenly recognized her as Irene, the woman she had mistaken for Tommy’s wife, and instinctively hung her head in shame.
Tommy cleared his throat nervously. ‘Everyone, meet my good friend Flossy Brown, the young lady I told you about.’
Instantly, the room was filled with the sound of chairs being scraped back as the young women leaped to their feet in a babble of cockney voices.
‘So you’re the one keeping our little Tommy’s toes warm,’ smiled Irene, reaching her first and throwing her arms round her. ‘We’ve all been worried sick about him, so knowing he has someone as lovely as you keeping his spirits up has been a weight off all our minds.’ She squeezed Tommy’s cheek playfully. ‘He may be all grown up now and in the navy, but Face Ache here will always be our baby brother.’
‘Behave, Irene,’ Tommy said, blushing.
Flossy giggled and felt herself relax, and soon she was wrapped in a tangle of kisses and hugs as each of the sisters in turn came to greet her. In no time at all, Flossy was flushed as red as Tommy, and her glowing cheeks were covered in lipstick.
‘Blimey, give the girl some air, won’t you?’ said Tommy’s mother, batting them away. ‘Now, I’m doing sausage, mash and onion gravy for yer tea. The butcher put them by for me when he heard our Tommy was coming home on leave.’
She turned to Lucky and Peggy. ‘Will you stay for tea? You’d be more than welcome. I’m sure we can make it stretch to two more.’
‘We wouldn’t hear of it, Mrs Bird,’ Lucky replied. ‘You’ve enough mouths to feed. We just wanted to make sure our Flossy was in safe hands, which I can see now she is. We’d happily take a cup of tea off you, though, before we head off. Don’t know about Peggy, but I’m parched.’
‘Right you are, young man,’ she chuckled. ‘In that case, Tommy, take your visitors into the parlour away from this mob, and I’ll bring you in a tray of tea and some biscuits in a bit,’ she ordered.
Obediently, Flossy, Lucky and Peggy followed Tommy into the front parlour.
Outside, the streets may have been a barren and grey wasteland, but inside, the room was cosy and welcoming. A fire had been lit, and the room was spotless; two side lamps either side of the chaise longue threw out a soft glow.
Flossy’s eyes were drawn to the mantel, on which clustered black-and-white images of the family enjoying a holiday on the coast, all guarded over ferociously by two chipped china dogs.
‘Mum’s pride and joy, them china dogs and photos,’ Tommy chuckled, when he followed her gaze. ‘My sisters tell me that every time the sirens went, she insisted on packing them up and taking them down the shelter with her.’
‘Tell me, Tommy, where did your nan, mum and sisters shelter?’ asked Lucky.
‘In the crypt of All Saints’ Church on the East India Dock Road,’ he replied. ‘I couldn’t believe the scenes when I got home yesterday. Half my neighbourhood has gone. When I left for sea, this street was filled with children playing, horses and carts, a proper village in its own right. Now, my community has been destroyed, my corner shop’s gone, as has my local, but I suppose I should count my blessings that my family are safe. All I hold dear is in this house . . .’ His voice trailed off and a soppy grin creased his cheeks as he gazed over to where Flossy was sitting. ‘Including you.’
Lucky and Peggy exchanged a knowing look as Flossy flushed pink and smiled shyly back.
A gale of giggles drifted in from the other side of the door, and Tommy rolled his eyes and smiled. ‘Excuse my sisters,’ he said. ‘They’re over the moon that I’m courting again after my wife. Who needs the jungle telegraph when the Bird sisters get going? They’re very curious about you, Flossy.’
Flossy knew she had to ask the question. Being welcomed into the bosom of Tommy’s warm and chaotic family life had been wonderful, and his sisters as gay and charming as could be, but there was one special person she was dying to meet.
‘And your daughter?’ she asked haltingly.
‘She’s upstairs in her bedroom, playing with her dollies. Mum thought it best I make sure we all feel comfortable with each other before I make the introductions.’
Tommy’s face darkened as he gazed into the fire. ‘Betsy’s been through a lot, and, well, we’re very protective of her. First she lost her mum; then I was called up; then she was evacuated out to Wales; and now of course she’s returned to London. She doesn’t know whether she’s coming or going, poor little mite.’
‘I can imagine,’ Flossy murmured, knowing all too well what it was like to feel displaced. ‘I really would love to meet her, Tommy,’ she said. ‘You two come as a package, after all.’
Tommy turned from the fire to face Flossy. ‘I think I would like you to meet her too,’ he replied. ‘I know this is all happening fast, but, well, time’s a luxury these days, and I don’t want to waste a second of it.’
With that, he rose and opened the door. ‘Mum, would you bring Betsy down?’ he called.
Lucky and Peggy stood up too. ‘I think we’ll go and help your mum with tea,’ Peggy said.
While she and Tommy waited, Flossy tried her hardest to contain her emotions, but a thousand thoughts swirled through her mind. Would Betsy like her, or would she think she was trying to take the place of her mother? Would she resent her for taking up her father’s leave? She was still turning over the questions in her mind when the tiny figure of a little girl pelted across the kitchen and flung herself into Tommy’s outstretched arms.
Flossy choked back a sob of emotion as she watched Betsy nestle into her father’s embrace and bury her face into his white shirt. The little girl looked so tiny in his arms.
Tommy closed the parlour door behind them and sat down next to Flossy, stroking Betsy’s pale blonde hair. Her hair gleamed like spun gold in the firelight, and pure paternal pride shone from Tommy’s face.
‘This nice lady is Flossy,’ said Tommy. ‘Do you want to say hello, sweetheart?’
The little girl shook her head and burrowed deeper into his arms.
‘She’s shy,’ mouthed Tommy, over her head. ‘Come on, love,’ he coaxed. ‘Flossy won’t bite.’
Suddenly, Flossy remembered something she had in her bag.
‘Betsy, I brought a friend for you,’ Flossy said gently, pulling the rag doll Dolly had given her from her bag. ‘A very dear friend from my sewing circle gave her to me years ago, and now I’d like you to have her. She’s had a few knocks and she needs a little girl who can care for her.’
Wordlessly, Betsy peeked out from under her curtain of blonde hair, her curiosity overcoming her shyness. She was ever such a pretty little thing. A smattering of freckles covered her button nose, and her skin was sun-kissed from days out roaming the Welsh countryside, but her hazel eyes were guarded and watchful, unsure of who to trust. Flossy saw so much of her younger self in her.
‘I think her place now is with you,’ Flossy said.
A sticky little hand crept out and took the dolly. ‘Please, miss, can I call her Dilys?’
‘That’s a Welsh name, you dafty,’ exclaimed Tommy, ruffling her head. ‘Why don’t you give her a proper East End name?’
‘I think Dilys is just perfect,’ interjected Flossy quickly. ‘And how clever you are, because it means “perfect and true” in Welsh.’
Her mind cast back to the memory of her old friend Lucy. The searing jealousy she had felt all those years ago when Lucy was fostered to begin a new life as Dilys in Wales no longer cut so deep. In its place, another, stronger emotion kindled.
Betsy relaxed at the compliment and wriggled off her father’s lap. ‘Can you help me make her a sister to play with?’ she asked, holding the dolly to her cheek.
‘Why, I’d love to,’ Flossy replied.
‘Now?’ Betsy grinned, and Flossy couldn’t hide her delight.
‘I don’t see why not, as long as your father doesn’t mind.’
‘Go right ahead. I’ll just go and see how long tea’s going to be,’ he said, winking at Flossy.
Betsy and Flossy gazed curiously at one another. Flossy didn’t yet know how much the little girl remembered of her mother, how much heartache she felt at then losing her father to sea and being sent away, but she could imagine.
‘Are you going to be my new mummy?’ the shy little girl asked.
Flossy patted the empty space next to her on the chaise, and cautiously, Betsy sat down next to her and gazed up, huge eyes unblinking in the firelight.
‘I’m not sure yet, Betsy,’ Flossy answered honestly. ‘And I would never try to replace your mother, but I’m terribly fond of your daddy, and I would very much like us to be friends. I’d love to spend some time getting to know you a bit better. I could even visit you after your father goes back to sea. If you’d like, that is?’
Betsy held the dolly to her ear and listened intently. ‘Dilys says yes, she would like that.’
‘Splendid. You and Dilys can be the newest recruits in our sewing circle,’ Flossy replied. And with those simple words, the two settled down to get to know one another.
When Tommy returned, he found the pair deep in conversation.
‘Come on, chatterboxes,’ he said with a delighted smile. ‘Tea’s ready. Mum’s serving up.’
In the kitchen, Lucky and Peggy drained their mugs of tea and said their goodbyes before discreetly slipping away, leaving Flossy to take her place at the table, alongside Betsy and opposite Tommy. Surrounded by his vibrant family, all piling into plates of steaming-hot sausage and mash, gabbing away ten to the dozen, Flossy felt a peace wash over her.
In the eleven days since Dolly’s funeral, Flossy had been on a rollercoaster of emotions, and she felt as if she had buried not one but two mothers, and been on an earth-shattering journey of discovery. Her brutal start in life was not anywhere close to what she had imagined it had been, and it would still take time to come to terms with being a foundling, but at long last she knew who she was, and where she came from. The truth, no matter how unsavoury, was always preferable to uncertainty. Not that she could blame Dolly for trying to shield her from her heart-wrenching past. She had simply been trying to protect her.
But as for the future? The question that had always burned deep within was, ‘To whom do I belong?’ Gazing at Tommy now across the warm, crowded kitchen, Flossy realized she knew with a certainty. There were no more nerves or hesitation, just an instinctive feeling that she was in exactly the right place.
Tommy looked back at her through the steam curling off the plates and winked, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone, judging by the delighted nudges and smiles from the Bird sisters. But no one round that kitchen table felt more rapture than Flossy Brown at the simple gesture, for finally and unmistakably, she had found her place in the world. She had come home.
Flossy caught Tommy’s mother’s eye and the older woman reached over and patted her hand.
‘Tuck in, gal. I baked us a nice big tray of bread-and-butter pudding for our sweet. How’s that sound to you, darlin’?’
‘Heavenly, Mrs Bird,’ Flossy replied with a grateful smile. ‘Just heavenly.’