Sibbie clung to her Aunt Mags.
‘Oh, my darling girls, I’m so glad you are here. We have missed you.’
As Sibbie came out of her aunt’s hug, her Uncle Jerome took her into his arms. ‘So happy to see you, dear Sibbie; and you, Marjella. Now, don’t keep us in suspense – you said you had news?’
‘Yes. We have had orders to report to London. And that’s it really, except that we were given two weeks’ leave, with immediate effect, and told to visit all of our family. They indicated that we will be working near London, but that our work will be so intense and top-secret that we won’t be granted much – if any – time off that will be of a duration long enough to make visits.’
‘Oh? I wonder what they have in mind for you. Code-breakers? Interpreters? Translators? Anyway, whatever it is, I imagine you will be kept very safe, as your work will be of the gravest importance. So it is worth the sacrifice of not being able to see you often.’
Sibbie hoped it was none of these things. When the order to go to London had come through, it had come via their senior officer, and he had said they were going to be tested for their suitability to carry out special operations, but that they were to say nothing of this to their family; only that the work they would be doing would severely limit their visits home, if not curtail them altogether until the end of the war.
‘Yes, sounds boring, though. Still, if that is what they call us to do, ours is not to reason why. I’m just so glad that the date we have our initial interview is two days after Daisy and Florrie leave, so that we can see them off and spend a little time with Rosie, who will need our support.’
‘But have they not given you any indication of what you will be doing? And you are sure it will be in this country?’
‘Mags, darling, you know better than to question them.’
Sibbie smiled at her uncle. Jerome, a reluctant doctor-turned-vet – due to his love of working with animals, and of the land – was a lovely man. She’d always loved him, and he had accepted her in the same light that Mags looked upon her and had been like a father to her. Always ready with advice, without interfering in her decisions.
Sibbie thought how lucky she was to be surrounded by so many who cared for her. Rory, her stepfather, a shy man, was also a stable father-figure for her to look up to.
‘Sorry, I should know better. Anyway, let’s make a pact – no talk of war whatsoever. You’re only here overnight and I want to enjoy every moment of that time with you. Did you hear of what happened at Portpatrick? Daisy, Rosie and Florrie were quite the heroines. And Aunt Betsy has had a profound change of heart, thank goodness. It was getting difficult trying to lift her spirits when I can only talk to her over the telephone.’
‘No. Is everyone all right?’
Listening to Mags relay the tale of the loss of the lifeboat, and how Daisy, Rosie and Florrie had treated the injured men, brought home to Sibbie how much the war was hitting everyone, whether they were actively involved or just going about their daily business, but in particular those whose jobs put them in danger – fishermen and lifeboat crew especially so.
‘Oh, Aunt Mags, thank God they are all safe. I can’t wait to see Mum and all of them.’
It was much later when Sibbie and Marjie retired, after a lovely evening catching up on how busy Aunt Mags was, as the mill was thriving. And although they had said no war talk, that was one of the good things that could happen at times like they were experiencing – an abundance of employment for local folk, as the mill had won the contract to supply all manner of clothing for the forces, as well as parachute material. Uncle Jerome was experiencing a busy time, too, as farms had to produce double quantities of everything and had more livestock than they’d had previously.
As they got into bed that night, Marjie expressed something that had struck Sibbie, too. ‘How uncomplicated life is here, Sibbie. Business as usual, with added bonuses. I wish our lives were so. I’m anxious about what lies in store for us. The not knowing is awful.’
‘I know. I keep wishing, and hoping, that we are to be sent on a secret mission abroad somewhere, and yet it terrifies me, as I don’t know whether I am up to it or not.’
‘It sounds like we will know if we are, before they send us, as they are going to test our ability and suitability.’
‘What on earth will that entail? I hope it isn’t fitness, as I’ve never been a physical animal. I always preferred a book to the rough-and-tumble of the boys in our family.’
‘If it is what you hope for, then it is bound to be along those lines, Sibbie. Any work abroad isn’t going to be done behind a desk. Perhaps we can start to do exercises this fortnight? Go for long walks, do those push-up things where you lie on the floor and push yourself up on your arms – that sort of thing.’
‘That’s a good idea, and perhaps we can go to the swimming baths. I’m a good swimmer, and I always swam in the sea, even in winter. We could do that every day when we are in Scotland, though it’ll be cold; not like your sea in the South of France.’
‘Mmm, I might pass on that one. I don’t like the cold.’
‘You’re a softie, so we need to toughen you up. But oh, it will be good to see my mum and Aunt Betsy – and all of them – before we report for duty.’
‘We’re travelling the length and breadth, at this rate. London tomorrow to see your Daisy and Florrie off, then to Scotland and back down to London. Not that any of that worries me. It will be lovely to meet the girls, and your mum and Betsy, and all their families. I’m just sorry we weren’t able to catch Beth and Belinda before they went back to school.’
‘I know. I can’t believe this is Beth’s last term before she goes to college, I only hope this war is over before she gets to the end of her education as, knowing her, she will want to do something wildly dangerous to help fight it.’
‘Oh, I wish it would all just go away.’
‘What’s really bothering you, Marjie?’
‘Well, my family; they are constantly on my mind. I know I had that letter, but it was dated a couple of months ago. I was hoping against hope there would be another waiting for me here.’
Sibbie felt so much for Marjie and didn’t know how to make her feel better. There was nothing she could say that would console her. After all, their family and Aunt Ella’s were in grave danger, as the news coming out of Vichy France wasn’t good; many expatriates were fleeing their homes to avoid being detained by the regime.
Her own thoughts were with her Aunt Flors and Uncle Cyrus and her cousins, and with Aunt Ella’s family, especially – and even more so – her beloved Paulo. She hoped against hope that the work she and Marjie were being assessed for involved them going to France. That would help Marjie, too. She’d know first-hand what was happening there.
It was the one subject she’d wanted Aunt Mags and Uncle Jerome to approach, hoping they would have some reassurances for them. But once they had said no more talk of war, only the way domestic affairs were being affected was discussed.
Yawning, Sibbie changed the subject. ‘It was nice to see Cook looking so well. Bless her. I worried about her, when Aunt Mags wrote that she was poorly. But whatever was ailing her seems to have passed. It will be good to tell Aunt Betsy that.’
‘Go to sleep, Sibbie. You’re such a darling, worrying about everyone and trying to make everyone’s world right – you’re like a whirlwind that I have to keep up with!’ Marjie’s laughter sounded good, as sleep overcame Sibbie.
The train pulled into London’s Kings Cross station a little later than expected the next morning. Excited to see the girls whom she looked upon as her sisters, Sibbie jumped onto the platform. ‘Come on, Marjie. Hurry! Oh, look, there they are – under the clock at the entrance.’
‘They look exactly like you said. Just look at their lovely golden hair. I can’t wait to meet them.’
‘It does look golden in that light, but it’s more chestnut. Daisy! Florrie! Rosie . . . we’re here!’
Before she could take a breath, Sibbie found herself being hugged and asked a dozen questions: how was she? How was Aunt Mags? Was her journey all right?
‘Let her breathe, girls. Eeh, poor lass, she’ll be sorry she came, at this rate.’
Sibbie laughed. ‘It’s all right, Daisy. Oh, it’s so good to see you all. It must be two years since our paths crossed. I can’t wait to hear all your news. Oh, this is my cousin, Marjella – only we call her Marjie.’
Marjella looked bemused as each of the girls gave her a hug.
Linking arms, they left the station. The sight that met them outside shocked Sibbie. For a moment she halted the group’s progress. ‘Oh God, look at the destruction!’ All around her, buildings were broken. The air had a tinge of burning debris and the street was littered with blackened bricks, chunks of smouldering wood and shards of glass. ‘I never dreamed my first visit to London would mean seeing it in such a sad state.’
‘This is nowt compared to what it was like during the Blitz. A couple of bombs dropped last night and caused this, but imagine thousands of bombs dropping in one night. It were a living nightmare, with everyone facing their possible death every day.’
‘Oh, Daisy, I knew of course – it’s part of my job to know; and the news was full of it, but until you see what damage a bomb causes, it doesn’t hit home. Even newspaper pictures don’t give you the true feeling of it all. Poor Londoners, how did they come through it all?’
‘Many didn’t. It’s a grieving city, but a city with spirit. The folk here have a good outlook on life. Allus laughing and seeing the funny side. Anyroad, let’s forget it all for one day, and hope that Hitler does an’ all. I’m going to show you as much as I can. Not that it will be a lot, as it’s nearly lunchtime now and we’ve to be at St Pancras station by four.’
‘Don’t worry about the tour. All I want is to be with you all. And I feel as though we have been travelling for days. Let’s go and eat, and just talk and well . . . be together.’
They all agreed to this.
It was as if Marjie had known the girls all her life, the way she chatted easily with them. They sat in the Old King’s Head pub on Euston Road, listening to the excited chatter from Daisy and Florrie about their forthcoming trip to Singapore and how they were being assigned to work in the Alexandra Military Hospital and would be caring for all military personnel and their wives and families. ‘And Malaya isn’t far. That’s where our Billy is. Maybe we’ll be able to see him an’ all.’
‘That’d be grand, Daisy. If you do, give him me love, and tell him to write an’ all – to me and to Ma. Tell him how much we worry about him; and, aye, how much we love him.’
‘Aye, Rosie, we will. Well, Florrie will, no doubt. She and Billy have allus got on well, as you knaw, so it’d come better from her. Me and him are like a red rag to a bull. Mind, I am worried about him, and I do love him.’
‘He knaws that. But, you knaw, it’s strange how you two and Billy have all been sent there. There’s nowt much going on to do with the war out there, is there, Daisy?’
‘Aye, we thought that, but nowt’s done that’s not warranted these days, so maybe there’s sommat afoot. Anyroad they told us, didn’t they, Florrie, that Singapore is an important port of call for troops and merchant seamen an’ all, and that keeping them healthy is vital work. And even if there is or isn’t much action, we’re going to enjoy it. It sounds such an exotic island.’
‘Aye, it does; and I suppose, being British, it has to be protected, and there’ll be ships coming into its ports with troops on. I reckon as you’ll be kept busy, whether it’s with war casualties or not.’
‘I think you’re right, Rosie.’ As Sibbie said this, she felt that now was the time to change the subject. ‘We have news, too.’
‘Eeh, you kept that quiet. Don’t say as you’re being posted? I thought you were safely tucked away in Lincolnshire for the duration.’
‘So did we, Rosie, but we didn’t want to be, so we both applied for transfers. It’s all right working in the observation field, but not challenging, and we didn’t think it used all of our skills to best advantage.’
‘Oh? I hope you’re not going to be doing owt that’s dangerous?’
‘Everything’s dangerous these days, Florrie. Even us sitting here in the heart of London, enjoying pie and peas. But we’re not fully sure what we’ll be doing, so we can’t tell you much.’
‘That sounds ominous. I thought, with us going to an island that hadn’t seen any trouble, Rosie safe in Herne Bay and you two tucked away in Lincolnshire, we’d all make it through this nightmare.’
‘Well, like you, we want to help the nightmare end. We don’t know yet what we are going to be asked to do, only that our language skills will be useful.’
They all fell quiet, each with their own thoughts, wondering about the uncertain future. A sigh from Marjie broke the silence. ‘It is a terrible nightmare. The uncertainty is the worst thing.’
The sisters all looked at each other. Sibbie could see they were a little shamefaced. Yes, they were doing their bit, and so were their half-brothers – Billy, who was away from home, and Roderick, who’d stepped up and was working tirelessly with the lifeboat crew, going out with them whenever he could, not to mention fishing on a daily basis, a very dangerous occupation. – But they knew their mum and stepfather were safe up in Scotland, just as she did. None of them had to face what Marjie had to contend with.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Look, this is meant to be a happy occasion that we can all remember – especially you sisters – and I’ve dampened it.’
‘Naw, lass. It’s good to share our worries. And you have more than most,’ Rosie said as she gave Marjie a hug. ‘Eeh, I’m glad I’ve met you, Marjie. We’ve heard so much about you that I feel we knaw you. Anyroad, we’re all rooting for your family. And whatever it is you are assigned to, don’t forget that if it’s near London, I’m only at Herne Bay. I can come and meet the pair of you any time. I can be in London in half an hour.’
‘That would be lovely, Rosie.’ Marjie gave her a smile.
Holding Marjie’s hand, Sibbie decided to change the subject. ‘Anyway, there must be good news on the horizon. Has any of you any love-life to report?’
‘That means you have, Sibbie. By, I can see it on your face. Who is he? One of them Canadian pilots?’
‘No, Florrie. Not nearly warm. What about you, Rosie – you’re blushing. You have, haven’t you? You’ve fallen in love; come on, tell.’
‘Er, well . . . Naw, I ain’t. There’s naw time for that; it’s work, work, work. But I can see, as Florrie says, that you’ve been up to sommat.’
‘Paulo! Paulo loves me.’
All three clapped their hands together. ‘Oh, Sibbie, I’m right pleased for you, lass. You’ve carried a torch for Paulo for a long time.’
‘You’ve all teased me about him, you mean. But yes, you’re right, Daisy. I have carried a torch for Paulo since I were knee-high to a donkey, as they say. Right from my first visit to France. And it seems that he has for me. I had a letter. I’m so happy.’
Happiness wasn’t the entire truth of how she felt; more a sad longing, and a deep hope for Paulo’s safety. But she was glad this turn in the conversation had done what she intended and lifted the mood.
‘Well, we’d better make a move.’
‘Oh, naw, Florrie, is that the time? I don’t want you to go.’
Sibbie suddenly realized how upset Rosie was going to be, not to have her sisters in the same country, as she jumped up and clung to Florrie.
‘Don’t make it any harder for us, Rosie lass.’
As Daisy wiped a tear away, Sibbie felt a surge of emotion as the reality of the situation hit her. The four of them had been together most of their lives, or at least within a distance where they could reach one another, but now two of them were going thousands of miles away. Fear came to her, as she let her mind visit what she’d refused to think about. Florrie and Daisy would be on a ship voyage for weeks and weeks, and the seas were so dangerous. Oh God!
She’d envied them, but now she was afraid for them.
At the station they all hugged and hugged, as if for the very last time. Marjie looked lost as she tried to comfort them all.
It was Daisy who, as usual, settled everything down. ‘Eeh, this won’t do; me make-up’s run all down me face, and me a sister an’ all. Let’s all start to laugh instead of cry. Let’s have a happy send-off, eh?’
It took an extreme effort, but Sibbie did make them all laugh. ‘You look like a panda, Daisy – how much mascara did you use? I bet Rimmel’s got none left.’
The giggles were watery, nervous ones, but they were giggles, and they lightened the mood.
‘Eeh, help me . . . Naw, don’t spit on your hanky, our Rosie. That’s what Ma used to do when we were kids. I hated it when she rubbed me face with her wet hanky.’
This made them laugh even more, as memories came from one girl and then another.
‘I have some toilet water. I’ll put that on my handkerchief, and you can tidy up your eyes with that.’
‘Ta, Marjella. Somebody with a sensible suggestion at last.’
With Daisy and Florrie looking more presentable, they all bravely walked them towards the group of nurses wearing the same grey-and-maroon nurse’s uniform. Then as they disappeared, only to reappear with their heads hanging out of a window, they all waved and waved, until the smoke puffing from the engine took them from view. Silence fell for a moment. Sibbie felt lost. It was as if a large part of her had left on that train.