Flo
Pulled Both Ways
‘What did it feel like when your dad died, Flo?’ Kathy sat on Flo’s bed, watching her putting on her make-up. Her own bed was on the other side of this large bedroom, which housed three beds in all, in readiness for any child needing a place to lay her head.
Whilst Flo had been living here there’d only been one other, a girl of sixteen. Eunice, her name was. By, she’d been a handful when she arrived. She was a hair’s breadth from being sent to an approved school, but Mrs Leary’s love and understanding turned her around and she was now living in a nurses’ hostel in London, training to be a nurse. Flo had the occasional letter from her. Thinking of this, she decided that she would look Eunice up, if she did get the position at Bletchley.
‘I don’t remember, me little lass. I was just a babby. But, eeh, I can imagine it’s a deep pain as you’re feeling.’
‘It is. Sometimes it stops me from swallowing, it’s that tight.’
‘By, Kathy love, you shouldn’t have been put through this at your age. I don’t know what to say. I reckon that no matter what anyone says, it don’t make it any better.’
‘Naw, sometimes it makes it worse, as if they think I should get over it, but I can’t. Me dad were a-all I – I had.’
Flo gathered the sobbing child to her.
‘W-will you always be here, Flo?’
Flo hesitated, but couldn’t be less than honest. ‘I’m not likely to be here for long, but I’ll allus be your friend. This war is taking loved ones away all the time, and I’m no different. I have to do me bit. It’s possible I will go very soon, but I’ll write to you. I promise. And you write back, an’ all, or I’ll be upset.’
Kathy’s arms tightened around her. Flo stroked the mass of soft, dark curls. An overwhelming feeling of love swamped her for this lost little ten-year-old.
‘Would you like to come with me, eh? I’m off to the shops. I’ve a few things I need. Then we could see if there’s a suitable matinee on at the flicks. What d’yer reckon, eh?’
‘Oh, yes please.’
‘Reet, go and get yourself changed. Put that nice red frock on that you were wearing when you arrived, there’s a good lass.’
Kathy’s head dropped.
Flo used her forefinger to gently tickle under her chin. ‘Eeh, what’s that look for? Have I said sommat wrong?’
‘I hate that dress. The welfare bought it for me to wear to me dad’s funeral.’
‘Well then, I bet he looks down on you with pride every time you wear it. If I were you, I’d wear it specially for him as often as you can, afore you grow out of it.’
Kathy brightened. ‘D’yer really thinks as he looks down on me?’
‘Course he does. He’s not going to stop watching over you, and you can talk to him, an’ all. I do, to me mam and dad. It makes me feel better, even though I didn’t know them. Have you a picture of your dad?’
‘Aye, but it hurts to look at it.’
‘To my mind, you wouldn’t be any kind of a daughter if it didn’t. But that’s no reason to hide him away as if he were never here, is it? Get it out from wherever you keep it and give it pride of place on that dresser there. Then I can get to know him, an’ all.’
‘I wish you’d known me dad, Flo, and I wish you were me mam, an’ all.’
This touched Flo. She had to swallow hard to compose herself. Fussing over applying her lipstick helped. You couldn’t cry with your mouth wide open. Once that was done, she felt more composed. ‘I can be your big sister, lass. Will that do?’
‘Aye, that’ll be grand. Can I tell folk?’
‘I don’t see why not. It’s none of their business anyroad. Reet, get dressed afore I go without you. Now, where’s your dad’s special dress?’
‘I like it being called that. I’ll get it.’
‘Good. Once you have it on, I’ll try to sort out that mop of yours. You look like you’ve been pulled through a hedge backwards.’
This had Kathy giggling. Then she became serious again. ‘Why don’t you have a picture up of your mam and dad, Flo?’
‘I haven’t got one, lass. By, if I did, it would be up there like a shot. Folk have told me about how they looked, and it appears I take after me dad. I have his nose anyroad.’
‘I like your nose. It makes you special.’
‘Ta, lass. Now, are you going to talk all morning, eh?’ Flo threw a pillow at Kathy. She dodged it, but her squeals of delight warmed Flo’s heart.
Coming out of Timothy White’s on New Market Street, where Flo had bought a suitcase and had handed in Mr Leary’s prescription, she saw Roland. On spotting her, he waved his arms. ‘There’s a friend of mine, Kathy. I won’t be a minute. You wait here for me. But don’t move, there’s a good lass.’
‘Hello there. I’ve been to Mrs Leary’s and she said you were in town. I thought I’d come in on the off-chance of finding you, but I didn’t think I’d be this lucky.’ Roland caught hold of Flo and kissed her cheek. ‘You look lovely. Going somewhere special?’
‘Ta, I do me best. Naw, nowhere special, just shopping and maybe to the flicks, if there’s a suitable film on for me little friend over there.’
‘Oh? I might join you. But first, I have news. There’s an interview arranged. Simon telephoned me. Shall we go for a cup of tea?’
‘Yes, I’d like that. I’ll just pop over and get Kathy. I don’t know if I mentioned her to you before, but she lives at Mrs Leary’s with me.’
‘I see you are preparing for leaving.’ Roland nodded at the suitcase Flo had bought. The three of them were sitting at a table in a teashop next to the Odeon.
‘It was on offer. A real bargain, so I snatched it up. I wanted to be prepared. Thou knaws, even if this doesn’t come off, I’ll still have to think of moving. I’ll look for some kind of work to help with the war effort.’
A little hand came into hers. She squeezed it and wiped a crumb from Kathy’s cheek, smiling down at her. ‘By the way, Roland, Kathy don’t just live with me, she’s me new sister now.’
‘Lucky Kathy, I say.’
Kathy grinned. It didn’t take much to lift the little lass’s spirits.
‘Really though, Flo, I do think this is going to come off. As I said, I’ve heard from Simon, and the interview is a week on Wednesday. Is that all right?’
‘Aye, it’s grand. Eeh, I can’t wait, and yet I’m scared out of me wits.’
‘You’ll be fine. Simon will brief you. Though I’m worried about him. He insists he’s all right, but he sounded funny. He put it down to a couple of visits he’s made to the dentist, said he’s had to have a tooth out and a new one put in on a denture, and he can’t talk properly at the moment. But there was something else. I can’t put my finger on it. Anyway, I’m going down to London at the weekend. He can get a little time off, but said he doesn’t feel like travelling up here, so I’ll stay in his apartment with him. We wondered if you would come?’
‘Oh, I don’t knaw what to say. Where would I stay? Eeh, London – by, I’d be lost down there. And what about the air raids, won’t you be scared?’
‘Lucinda has an apartment above Simon’s and she’ll put you up. She’s happy for you to stay until after the interview. Simon’s staying at home until Tuesday, and he’d like to spend some time with you, help you to prepare. As for the bombing, Simon’s area has been badly hit, but his street, Guildford Road, has mostly been untouched. Life has to go on, and he has a great air-raid shelter. And if we are in the local pub, there’s always Vauxhall Underground, which is under a mile from there. It’s super-fun getting around in the dark during the blackout, and there’s plenty of warning if there is an air raid.’
‘If you’re sure, then I’d love to come and it would settle me some, to spend time with Simon afore the interview.’
‘Jolly good. Simon will be thrilled. I’ll pick you up at eleven on Saturday. The train leaves at eleven-thirty. We have to change a couple of times, so won’t get down to London till about three in the afternoon. It’ll be a good experience for you. Especially on the Underground, as you will no doubt use that quite a bit if you work at Bletchley.’
Two days had been and gone since she and Roland had met in Leeds, and now Flo couldn’t believe how quickly the four hours it had taken to get to London had passed. Roland was good company. They did a crossword together on the journey – something she’d never done before, but she found the cryptic clues easy to solve. The moment they met up with Simon, Roland was full of her talent. ‘Simon, you just have to swing it for Flo. She has a brain that can cope with everything that yours can. I bet even you won’t beat her in solving crosswords.’ His jolly greeting landed like a heavy brick as they both took in Simon’s appearance. ‘Whatever’s the matter? My dear fellow, you look . . . Hey, is that – have you had a black eye? What happened?’
‘It’s a long story.’ Simon shook Roland’s hand, holding it longer than was necessary, then he hugged Flo to him. Her concern for him stopped her feeling embarrassed as she hugged him back. As they came out of the hug, he said, ‘Let’s go to the pub, and we can go back to mine after. I have something to tell you.’
Flo could feel her temper rising as she listened to what had happened to Simon, and how he thought a girl in his office and her lover were responsible. ‘Eeh, Simon, how can folk act like that towards another? It beggars belief.’
‘It does, to nice people like you, Flo, but I’ve been the brunt of Kitty Hamlin’s spite all week and it’s beginning to get me down.’
For all the world, Flo thought Simon was about to cry. She could see that Roland was longing to hold him but dared not, so she took Simon in her arms.
‘Is this your floozy then, queer-boy?’
Simon let Flo go and jumped up. ‘Kitty? What are you doing here?’
Flo stared at the young woman and had the impression she was looking at a cat, even down to the green eyes. She was small for someone who could spit venom, very fashionable and held a cigarette in a long holder. She blew a lungful of smoke towards Flo. ‘What are you staring at?’
‘I’ve not got words to describe it. We don’t have things like you up north.’
‘Cheeky bitch, I’ll have your eyes out.’
‘I don’t think so. If you make a move to hurt my friend, I will report you to the MPs for unseemly behaviour.’ Simon’s voice shook as he said this, but recovered and sounded authoritative as he nodded, adding, ‘Now, what are you doing here – have you followed me?’
‘Think a lot of yourself, don’t you? Why should I follow you? Unless you’re up to something you shouldn’t be. I just happen to be here with my friend.’
Flo was shocked to realize this woman probably had followed Simon. But why?
‘Well, if you’ll excuse us, we’re moving on. Goodbye, Miss Hamlin.’ Simon took hold of Flo’s arm and steered her away. Roland followed them out.
Once outside, Simon released a telling sigh. Flo could tell that all the worry in the world was weighing on him and felt glad she’d agreed to come to London with Roland. She dreaded to think what would have happened if the woman had seen Simon greet Roland on his own. As it was, Flo had seen them touch hands under the table. She prayed Kitty hadn’t seen that, too.
For a moment Flo thought Roland was going to put his arm around Simon as he raised his arm, but he lowered it again without touching him. Flo felt pity at this. They were afraid even to express their concern for each other in public, but she could hear the feeling in Roland’s voice when he spoke. ‘Don’t worry, Simon, she saw nothing that she could use against you. Come on, don’t let her spoil our couple of days. Let’s go to your apartment. Is Lucinda in?’
‘No, not yet, Roland, she’ll be home later. She’s had to work.’
Roland looked disappointed. Flo realized that he wanted time on his own with Simon and had hoped Lucinda would take her to her apartment, out of the way. He obviously hadn’t expected Lucinda to be working. Though, as a journalist, she did work long and unsettled hours. Thinking to ease the situation, Flo offered to make herself scarce.
‘Look, take me back to the apartment with you, so that I can leave me case and know where it is, then I’ll explore a little. Eeh, I’d love to see a bit of London. Didn’t you say as there were a bridge over the Thames that’s not far from Simon’s, Roland? By, it’d be grand to see that.’
Flo saw them both visibly relax for a moment, though Simon constantly looked over his shoulder as they walked towards his apartment. She wondered how they lived like this. Always afraid. To her mind, it wasn’t fair. They were who they were and, to her, what they did in private was their own business.
Flo stood in wonderment looking over the bridge, gazing down at the water. When she looked up, she could see boats of all shapes and sizes, and cranes that looked like giraffes lining the banks of the Thames. But her enjoyment was tinged with sadness. The destruction she saw all around tore at her. And she wondered, what must it feel like to have your house bombed out and all your possessions destroyed?
A woman came towards her pushing a pram loaded with what looked like household goods. Flo could see a battered saucepan hanging from the side and towels balancing on top. Two young, scruffy-looking boys trailed behind her, each lugging two heavy bags. They looked a picture of dejection, and Flo’s heart went out to them. ‘Hello, Missus. Can I help you with sommat?’
‘Where you from? You don’t sound like a Londoner, lav.’
‘I’m visiting from up north. Me name’s Flo. You look worn out. I were thinking you could do with a bit of an ’and.’
‘Ta, but unless yer can bring me man back from France and build up me bombed-out house, I don’t see what you can do, lav.’
‘Where are you heading for? Eeh, that’s a load and half. If it’s not far, I could perhaps take a bag off each lad and carry it for them.’
‘I’m going ter me mother’s – that’s if you can call her a bleedin’ mother. Swilling the drink back from morning to night, she is. Gawd lav us. How we’re going to manage in her one-up and one-down, I don’t know, but it’s all I have. And beggars can’t be choosers.’
This shocked Flo, but touched her at the same time. ‘I’m sorry for your plight, lass. We’ve had no bombing where I’m from. But we’re sending down what we can, to help you all. They collect stuff at the church on a Saturday afternoon. Then it’s sent to the Sally Army down here.’
‘That’s kind of yer. I’ve ’ad stuff from the Sallies. Well, nice to have met yer, but I have to get on. And you should get back to where you’re staying. They say it’s going to be a clear night, so they’ll be over with a few more bombs for us. I’m only a couple of streets away now.’
‘I’m staying in that direction. Let me give you a hand. Eeh, I’ve never seen the likes of what I’ve seen around here. I’m reet sorry for you all.’
‘Ta, lav. Me name’s Pauline. And if you’re going in the same direction, I’d be grateful if you would take a bag off each of me boys; poor mites are done in.’
‘I’m Flo, pleased to meet you.’
To Flo, Pauline looked around forty years old, but judging by the age of her boys, one probably about six and the other seven or eight, she thought Pauline was more likely to be in her early thirties. Small and with untidy, greasy hair, which Flo assumed was not as dark as it looked, she wore a long brown coat that was several sizes too big and was held together by a piece of string.
The bags Flo took from the boys held clothes. A smell of smoke came from them and she could see those on the top were charred.
They walked a little way in silence, passing bombed-out homes with folk rummaging amongst the ruins looking for whatever they could salvage. A couple of times they had to walk in the road, as rubble blocked the pavement. Pauline told Flo that they’d hardly had any respite from the bombing for weeks. ‘It’s hell when it starts, so make sure you get to a shelter, lav.’
Flo’s throat constricted. She’d been daft to come. But then this woman and her lads had no choice – they were here, and that was that. She had to show as much courage as they did. Besides, Roland had said Simon had a good shelter, so she’d be safe.
These thoughts went through her mind as they passed by the end of Simon’s street. Not many yards further on, Pauline turned left into a road that could have been a million miles away, as the contrast between Simon’s house and this little house, which stood on the end of a long row of similar cottage-type houses, was stark.
Flo looked at the torn nets, dirty windows, overgrown path and paint-peeling front door and her heart filled with pity. She turned to Pauline and asked, ‘Would you let me give you some money, Pauline? I haven’t got much, but I don’t need it. Me ticket home’s paid for. It might help you a bit.’
‘I couldn’t, I—’
‘Eeh, don’t say that. I want you to have it. Here.’ Taking from her purse the five bob she’d brought with her, Flo pressed it into Pauline’s hand. Pauline closed her fingers around it, before looking up at Flo. Silent tears ran down her face. Flo hugged her impulsively. ‘I have to go now, lass. Will you be all right?’
‘I will, and ta. You don’t know what you’ve done for me, lav, cos me mum won’t have anything in, and this’ll feed me kids, till I get sorted.’
‘Can I come and see you if I visit me friend again? I’d like to see how you’re getting on, and I could bring sommat from the church collection of clothes and stuff for the boys.’
Pauline just nodded. Her hand reached out to take Flo’s. Flo held the cold, small hand in hers and looked down into Pauline’s tired dark-brown eyes for a moment, before saying goodbye. When she got to the end of the street, Flo turned. Pauline was still looking towards her and raised her hand to wave. Flo had to swallow her tears as she waved back. Pauline looked so forlorn. Flo wanted to run back to her, but she knew there was no more she could do, so she made herself turn the corner and walk towards Simon’s street.
She’d been gone a good hour, so Simon and Roland should be expecting her back now. The warmth she’d felt from helping Pauline stayed with her, and she vowed that she would try to find a way of helping more of these Londoners. If she got the job at Bletchley, Roland had said she could easily get a train here. Well, that’s what she’d do in her spare time – she’d volunteer to help the victims of the bombing. Feeling better, she quickened her step. It was beginning to get dark. Her heart pounded at the thought of being in a bombing raid herself. But, as she’d thought before, if Londoners could do it, then so could she.
Not two hours had passed before Flo thought she would eat her words. They were enjoying the lovely meal that she and Lucinda had cooked and had brought down to Simon’s apartment. Lucinda had got hold of some scrag-ends. They’d scraped the meat from the bones and minced it, before cooking the meat in a saucepan. Lucinda had added all manner of spices and herbs, some of which Flo had never seen or heard of before. They’d topped the mixture with fluffy potato and had managed to make a delicious gravy, by making stock from the bones and adding a cornflour paste and gravy salts. But what gave it a special touch was how, when Lucinda carefully portioned it into the white bone-china bowls, she put a sprig of parsley from the garden on top of each portion. Flo had never seen anyone do anything like that to food, and it looked lovely.
Simon’s apartment was bigger than Lucinda’s, as the ground floor of the original house extended further out into the garden than the upstairs. Simon had two bedrooms and what he called a sitting room, but Flo would have called a parlour, plus a dining room. Lucinda also had two bedrooms, but her sitting room and dining room were all in one. Both apartments were decorated and furnished with a lot more taste than Roland’s house, with cream being the main background colour, and nothing garish – just soft blues and golds, with beautiful carved furniture in highly polished mahogany. But, to Flo, nothing could beat the luxury of taking a bath without the hassle of fetching in the tin tub from outside, filling it with kettles of boiling water and pails of cold, then erecting the partition by slinging a huge sheet over the clothes horse to give her some privacy. Eeh, how the other half live! She was loving it all.
But her enjoyment deserted her with the wail of the siren.
‘Bugger! Oh well, here we go – nothing to worry about, Flo. Go with Lucinda and get yourself some blankets. Did you put some flasks up, just in case, Lucinda?’
‘Yes. Now come on, Flo. Hitler waits for no one.’
Fear had rooted Flo to the spot. Roland lifted her physically, before she could move. Oh God, it’s really going to happen. The Germans are coming! She wanted to scream her terror, but the practical way the others just got on with it prevented her and reassured her.
It was cold in the Anderson shelter in the garden, but they huddled together and Flo soon began to feel warm. The chatter was lively, and Simon had brought a bottle of whisky with him. Flo took a big gulp, when offered, even though it made her choke. She needed some Dutch courage.
‘Don’t be afraid, Flo. It will get very noisy, but we’re safe in here. Even if the house takes a direct hit, the roof of the shelter has been reinforced, so the rubble will only bury us and not flatten us, and the air-raid wardens will soon have us out.’
None of what Lucinda said comforted her. How could they all take this in their stride? But expecting the raid was nothing like experiencing it. Flo had never known such noise. Her ears hurt with it. Every wind-whistling bomb took an age to land, and she thought each one would hit them. But worse than that were the screams of agony. Every fibre of her wanted to run to help those stricken, and yet she knew she wouldn’t be able to move a limb. On and on it went, till she wanted to beg them to stop.
Lucinda’s arm came through hers. Somehow there was more comfort in Lucinda showing fear than there had been in her stoic courage. Disengaging her arm, Flo took Lucinda’s hand with her left one and put her other arm around Lucinda’s shoulders. They huddled like this with their heads down for the rest of the raid. Flo had never felt more bonded with anyone in her life than she did going through this hell on earth with Lucinda.
When all had been quiet for half an hour, Simon lit his torch and put his head out. ‘Well, the jolly old house is still standing. Come on, let’s get inside.’
‘Eeh, Simon, shouldn’t we try to help those as have been hit?’
‘Not a good idea, Flo. We would only hinder things. The volunteers are well trained and organized.’
‘But surely we can offer hot drinks or sommat?’
‘I’ve never thought of that. I suppose we can. Wait here, while Roland and I go along to the nearest bomb damage and ask the wardens.’
To Flo, the next hour was the best and the worst she’d ever spent in her life. She loved giving help and comfort, distributing drinks that she and Lucinda made with the many kettles of boiling water Simon and Roland ferried from the house. Everyone who could help did so, supplying cups, teaspoons and some even a packet of tea, a precious possession. Most of the tea was served black with little sugar in it, but it didn’t matter. It was as welcome as it could be.
But though all of this warmed Flo’s heart and made her feel needed, the extent of the damage, loss and injury cut her in two. She hoped the job Simon had lined up for her really would help the war effort. But more than that, she hoped it would help to bring the war to an end.