Sunday, September 15, 1940
“Eggs have never tasted this good!” said Bess, helping herself to a second portion.
They had passed through the storm at some point in the middle of the night. Sunday morning dawned calm and sunny. Everyone came to the dining room cheerfully, as though the awful seasickness had never happened. There were steaming mugs of sweet tea, hot fresh rolls with butter, and double helpings of eggs and bacon. Bess was starving.
“Hey, Louis!” Fred and Howard rushed up to the table. Howard grabbed a couple of rashers of bacon and shoved them into a roll.
“Fred and I are goin’ to the other end of the ship to see the toffs. Wanna come?”
Louis leapt up. Bess glared at him.
“Finish your meal first,” she said sternly.
“You’re not Mum,” Louis grumbled.
“No, but you know that Mum would want you to finish your breakfast.”
“How come Fred and Howard can go?”
“Because Fred and Howard don’t have an older sister to look after them.”
“I didn’t ask you to look after me!”
“No, but Mum did.”
“See you after breakfast, Lou,” said Fred as he and Howard raced out of the dining room.
Louis looked down at his plate of eggs and bacon. “Do you think Mum misses us?” He pushed the eggs around with his fork.
“Oh, Louis, of course she does. She was really sad when we left, but she knows it’s for the best.” Bess couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt at how much pressure she’d put on her mother to let them both go. She hadn’t really thought about what it might mean to Louis.
By the time they’d finished breakfast it was too late for Louis to go down to the other end of the ship. It was time to go up to the sports deck, where Reverend King was going to lead a Sunday morning service. Father O’Sullivan, the boys’ other escort, was supposed to do it, but the priest had come down with a terrible flu and was confined to bed.
Fred and Howard caught up with them as they left the dining room.
“You should’ve seen ’em, Lou. There’s a boy, ’bout my age, wearin’ a funny bright red jacket,” said Howard.
“And a girl that Howard said was pretty!” teased Fred.
“Did not!” glared Howard.
Bess smiled over at Beth as they took their seats. The reverend began the hymn with his rich baritone voice. Everyone joined in.
Each little flower that opens,
each little bird that sings,
God made their glowing colours,
and made their tiny wings.
It felt wonderful to sing outside in the sunshine. The water sparkled. How extraordinary it was not to see any land, anywhere. Nothing but water and the convoy of ships.
All things bright and beautiful,
all creatures great and small,
all things wise and wonderful:
the Lord God made them all.
Bess looked around her at all of the children. She looked out over the vastness of the ocean. We are so small, she thought.
The purple-headed mountains,
the river running by,
the sunset and the morning
that brightens up the sky.
She looked at the ships in convoy: Nine rows, two ships deep. Eighteen ships to get them to Canada. Three miles wide. She felt so proud.
All things bright and beautiful,
all creatures great and small,
all things wise and wonderful:
the Lord God made them all.
“We send our prayers to our fathers, mothers, and loved ones back in England. We pray for their safety and bravery,” offered Reverend King. “We also pray for Father O’Sullivan, and wish him a speedy recovery from his flu.
“Heavenly Father, hear our prayers for Captain Nicoll and Commodore MacKinnon that they may guide us safely through these waters. And we pray for Prime Minister Churchill, as he wages war against our terrible enemies.”
Bess was sure that England would win the war. She and all of the other children were all leaving so that no one had to look after them. They were leaving so that the war would be easier to win. Seasickness and homesickness were small prices to pay.
The service ended and Miss Day stood up to address them.
“I am glad to see everyone looking better today,” she said, beaming. “We’ve got a couple of activities planned, so please listen carefully.
“First of all, there will be lifeboat drills today. You know what that means. We expect you to remember the rules: Wear your kapok vest. Carry your life jacket with you at all times. When you hear the alarm, walk to your muster station and await instructions.
“Also, Miss Gilliat-Smith is offering a drawing class in the playroom after dinner today. There will be a competition and all of the drawings that are submitted will have a special showing in the first-class passenger lounge. The winner will receive a box of chocolates, donated by Captain Nicoll!”
At this a great cheer went up. Bess saw Ken take out his journal. It seemed whenever she saw him he was drawing. So different from Louis, she thought. Louis had a hard time sitting for two minutes at a time.
“Speaking of the passengers,” Miss Day continued, “a number of you have been looking through the fence at the stern end of the deck and watching the first-class passengers. Please remember that it is rude to stare. There are some very important people on this ship and they do not want to be looked at like zoo animals. Remember your manners and stay to our end of the ship.”
Bess wondered if this message was aimed at Fred and Howard. She saw them exchange sly glances.
“However, there is one passenger from the other end of the ship who very much wants you to talk to her. I would like to introduce Miss Ruby Grierson.”
“Wow,” said Beth, her eyes wide.
“Holy moly,” said Howard.
Bess thought she had never seen anyone so glamorous. Miss Grierson was tiny and slim. She wore a beret, like a Frenchman, and she was wearing trousers like a man!
“Hello, boys and girls. My name is Ruby Grierson, but I’d like you to call me Ruby.”
Ruby spoke in a low gravelly voice. She gestured with a long cigarette holder, inhaling elegantly.
“I have been asked to make a movie about this special trip across the sea, a movie about you.”
“A movie?” Louis nudged Bess. “Did she say we’re going to be in a movie?”
“I’m gonna to be in pictures! My mum can see me at the picture show!” squealed Fred excitedly.
Ruby was smiling. “I am afraid I am going to be quite a pest. I’ll be asking you all kinds of questions and filming you throughout the voyage. As a special thank you, I’m organizing a tea party in the dining room tomorrow. We’ll have decorations and games and lots of scones and jam and butter, fairy cakes, and ice cream.”
Beth looked at Bess. “Cake and ice cream?”
“I think it will be great fun. I only have one rule.” Ruby pointed at them with her cigarette holder. Everyone was quiet.
We’d all agree to any rule, thought Bess, for fairy cake and ice cream.
“You can watch what I am doing, and you can ask me any questions. But if I am in the middle of filming, do not interrupt. Understand? Is that a deal?” Everyone was nodding, dazed. Ruby Grierson was mesmerizing. She was speaking words that they hadn’t heard since rationing: Tea party. Scones and jam and butter. Cakes and ice cream.
“So, I’ll see you at the party, shall I?”
There was thunderous applause and cheers from everyone.
Miss Day gestured for quiet. “Well, that is something to look forward to, isn’t it? For now, you have some free time to write letters or read your books. Make sure you tell your escort where you are going to be. Escorts, please gather up the little ones, the five- and six-year-olds, and bring them to the playroom. We are setting up a nursery area with the help of some of the older girls.”
Miss Day had already asked Bess and Beth if they would help out with the nursery. Joyce automatically slipped her hand into Bess’s, while Beth went off to try and round up Eddie Grimmond.
Playing with little children, taking a drawing class, going to a tea party, meeting an exotic filmmaker … the war seemed very far away.