Flo
Meeting Molly
The hug from Kathy was difficult to disengage from. The child had flung herself at Flo the moment she’d opened the gate of Mrs Leary’s cottage. ‘Eeh, Kathy love, give over. You’re crushing me.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Flo. I just can’t believe you’re here. It’s grand to see you. I’ve been at counting the days. Me friend’s fed up with me going on about you.’
Ruffling Kathy’s lovely dark curls, Flo looked down into her deep-brown, trusting eyes, and a pain of love for this child filled her. ‘I’ve missed you, little one. But it’s grand to hear that you have a friend.’ She turned to Simon, then back towards the child. ‘Friends enrich your life and are always helping you. This is my friend, Simon. Simon, this is Mrs Leary and Kathy.’
‘Hello, Simon. I’m Flo’s sister, ain’t I, Flo?’
‘You are, little one.’
Simon greeted Kathy, his face a picture of amusement. ‘Pleased to meet you both. Flo talks about you all the time. I feel as if I know you already.’
‘And she tells us all about you in her letters, an’ all. Are you her boyfriend?’
Feeling herself blushing at this from Kathy, Flo laughed. ‘He is a boy and he is a friend, my best friend. Now who’s your friend? Do I know her?’
Mrs Leary answered: ‘Aye, you do that; at least you may be remembering her mammy. Come in, Flo. It’s powerful good to see you, so it is.’
Flo’s eyes filled with tears as Mrs Leary gently moved Kathy out of the way and hugged Flo to her. Hugging her back, Flo realized how much she’d missed this lovely Irish woman who’d become like a mother to her.
‘Let’s be getting you both inside in the warm – for sure you’ll be catching your death. I’ve the kettle making a fair noise at whistling its head off in the kitchen.’
Flo laughed again, and her body filled with the feeling that only coming home can give. The familiar smells assailed her as the heat of the kitchen took her into its welcoming aura. The ever-present stewpot bubbling on the side of the stove, and the baking smells coming from the oven, mingled with the fresh clean smell of the bright, homely kitchen. Mr Leary sat by the fire, the smoke puffed from his pipe spiralling up above his newspaper. He lowered the paper and peeped over the top. ‘Hello, Flo. As Mrs Leary says, it is good to be seeing you.’
‘Eeh, and you, Mr Leary. This is me friend, Simon.’
Flo had already warned Simon of Mr Leary’s extreme shyness, so she was glad to see that he didn’t try to engage him in conversation, but just greeted him and shook his hand in a polite but friendly way.
‘Well, Flo – and everyone – if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave now and go and see Roland. I’ll see you all tomorrow, for the pretend Christmas Day. I’m really looking forward to that. Two Christmas Days in one year. Excellent.’
Mrs Leary tried to insist that he stay for a cup of tea, but Simon refused, saying he was eager to see Roland. With this, he kissed Flo’s cheek and left. She felt bereft. Tomorrow seemed a long way off.
Once the door had closed on Simon, the conversation turned to Kathy’s friend, as Flo removed her coat. ‘Are you for remembering Mary Ruddles? She was after leaving Leeds when you were just on sixteen, so she was. Anyway, she’s back and married and has two wee ones. It is her eldest, Patty, who is Kathy’s friend.’
‘Can’t say as I do, Mrs Leary. Did you meet her at school, Kathy?’
As Flo sat and drank her tea, news came thick and fast of the goings-on in Leeds. It was as if she’d never been away, as she now knew what almost everyone in the area had been up to, as well as their cats and dogs – or at least that’s what it felt like. But the best was to come, as Mrs Leary said, ‘Now then, you’ll never be after guessing who it is will be here in a wee while?’
Kathy looked into Flo’s face and gave the news. ‘Eunice. She’ll be here soon. She came before, and we made friends.’
‘Well, that’s grand news. How is Eunice getting here, Mrs Leary? We could have given her a lift, if we’d known.’
‘Sure, the trains are running, and Eunice didn’t want to be bothering you. And she’ll take the settee tonight as she can only stay tomorrow, whereas you will be here for a couple of days.’
Surprised to hear that the trains were running on Boxing Day, Flo thought this a good opportunity to let both Mrs Leary and Kathy know that she had to cut short her visit by a day. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to leave the day after tomorrow, too. There’s nowt I can do about it. Me and Simon are needed in London. I told you about helping the Sallies, in me last letter, didn’t I? Well, this being Christmas time, they’re really short-handed and they’ve asked us to work a van on Saturday evening. You see, the truce is over tomorrow night and they’re afraid they will be very stretched on Saturday.’
‘Oh, that’s a powerful shame, so it is. We were planning on having you to ourselves on Saturday, thinking you had to return on Sunday, but we’re after being very proud of you. Whatever it is you do for the good of the war, we have no knowledge of it, but this extra work is sorely needed.’
‘But I don’t want you to go, Flo.’
‘Sorry, love. Like I once told you, we all have to make sacrifices. Now, carry one of me bags up for me, Kathy, and I’ll carry this one. No, not that one – that has to stay put. Mrs Leary will find a safe place for it under the tree. Have we all we need for tomorrow, Mrs Leary? Only, I’ve brought a few things with me.’
‘That we have, me darling. I’ve managed to get hold of a chicken, but don’t be asking me where from, as I’ll only be telling you it came from the little people.’
‘Ooh, chicken! By, that’ll be a treat.’
‘And we have a cracker each, an’ all, Flo. Me and Mrs Leary made them. It’s a surprise what’s inside, and they won’t go bang, but they’re lovely, all the same.’
Flo thought everything was lovely. The warmth and cosy smell of the kitchen. The love that encased her. The happiness she saw in Kathy. And the thought of having Eunice home, to share in the fun. But even better than that, the fact that Simon would be here tomorrow, too.
She and Simon had managed to get their friendship and working relationship back onto an even keel. Flo hadn’t revealed her feelings, and it had gradually become easier for her to cope, as acceptance had settled inside her. It had to be like that. She couldn’t allow her heart to run away with feelings that could never be returned.
Seeing Eunice wasn’t quite the joy Flo had anticipated. Eunice was a shadow of her former self. Why didn’t Mrs Leary say anything to me? ‘Eeh, Eunice love, what’s to do?’
Before she could answer, Mrs Leary said, ‘I’ll be taking Kathy out for a wee walk. She’s to have her tea with Patty, her friend who we were after telling you about, Flo. You girls be taking the time to catch up. Take yourselves through to the parlour – there’s a fire lit, so there is.’
It seemed to Flo that Mrs Leary couldn’t wait to leave. When the door had closed on them, Flo turned to Eunice and opened her arms. ‘What is it, lass? You’ve lost a lot of weight since I saw you a few weeks ago.’ Eunice came willingly into her hug, but holding her increased Flo’s concern, as she felt Eunice’s bones protruding through her flesh. ‘Are you ill, Eunice lass?’
‘I’m not feeling right, Flo. And, like you say, the weight’s dropping off me. They’re doing tests, but I can make a good guess what’s wrong, and it ain’t good.’
Flo couldn’t speak.
‘Let’s sit down, Flo. I’m out on me feet.’
As Flo followed Eunice through to the parlour, she could see her weakness in her walk. She wanted to scream out her protest at whatever it was that ailed Eunice and had brought her so low in such a short time.
As they entered the parlour, the Christmas tree glittered in the light from the window, but to Flo the beautiful creation of tinsel, with the aged but still-perfect angel on top, now dulled to nothing, in her fear for Eunice. Once they were settled, she waited for Eunice to speak. Shock zinged through her body when she did. ‘I think I have cancer.’
‘No! No . . . no. You can’t have! Eeh, lass, you’re so young. Oh God, no.’
They clung together.
A feeling of desolation seized Flo. Eunice’s young life had been blighted with abuse and the loss of a child; and now to be dealt this devastating blow, just as she was flourishing – it all seemed so unjust.
‘Is there no hope?’
‘Yes. There is treatment by radiotherapy, but it depends. If I do have cancer, then it has to be caught before it spreads. I noticed blood weeks ago when I went to the toilet, and I immediately reported to the sickbay. The problem is that everything takes so much time, and there’s so few resources. Mind, I’m lucky, being a nurse. I get looked after. If I were some poor young woman who couldn’t pay for medical help, or to see a doctor even, then it’d be much suffering and curtains for me, for certain. As it is, I still might die.’
‘Eeh, love, no. We have to keep thinking that it might be sommat else. There’s allus hope, they say. When will you know if you have it, and how bad it is?’
‘On Monday, when I return to the hospital. I’m to go to the sickbay and will be given my results.’
‘Oh, Eunice love, I’ll be at praying so hard that God will find it difficult to refuse me. But, lass, if he does and it is what you fear, I’ll be by your side fighting with you. Does Mrs Leary know?’
‘I don’t think she wants to know. You saw how she rushed out.’
‘That will be because of her love for us. She’d not be able to bear it. Not at first; but, by, once she gets used to it, she’ll be there with you, an’ all. Leave it to me to tell her, but I won’t do so until you know for sure.’
‘Thanks . . . Oh, Flo, I don’t want to die.’
All Flo could do was hold Eunice close and allow her sobs to be released. Her own tears dropped onto Eunice’s hair. Why? Why is so much put on one person? Eunice has had more than her share. Much more than any young woman should have to take.
For Kathy’s sake, the pretend Christmas Day went ahead as if nothing was happening other than the need to have a good time. By the afternoon, and after a meal Mrs Leary was rightly proud of, her little parlour was jammed with folk: neighbours and friends, and even Flo’s old boss, Mr Godfern, and his family. They immediately cornered Flo and had umpteen questions, but she batted them off well, leaving them proud that she was a Wren and doing her bit. Mr Godfern told her that he had now semi-retired and that his daughter was doing well with the shop. ‘She’s dragging me into the twentieth century. She’s a good lass.’
Before leaving them to return to Simon and Roland, Flo expressed how pleased she was at this. It was a good feeling to be speaking to them, now that she was settled into a new life. She felt she was finally able to put Mr Godfern’s mind to rest that he’d done the right thing for her. ‘I’ll allus be grateful to you, Mr Godfern. You set me on the reet path in me career. By, I wouldn’t even have one, but for you.’ He beamed at her.
Simon and Roland both welcomed her by moving apart and letting her stand in between them. As they chatted, Flo played with the pink knitted ring, twisting it around her finger. It had been her surprise, which had popped out of her cracker. ‘I knitted it, Flo, all on me own,’ Kathy had told her. Admiring the neat rows, Flo imagined Kathy concentrating and eager to get it done for her, and that warmed her heart.
‘You love that, don’t you, darling?’
She looked up into Simon’s eyes. Found more than a twinkle there and looked away. ‘Aye, it’s the thought of the time and effort the little lass put into it.’
‘And not a small measure of love, too. You’re the most-loved person I know, Flo. And you give more love than anyone I know. But I can see there is something troubling you. Can I help?’
‘Oh, Simon. It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever dealt with in me life. But I can’t talk to you about it now. Will you do me a favour, though? It’s me friend, Eunice, she’s not well. Will it be alreet if she goes back to London in the car with us?’
‘Of course. I’m guessing she is the one on your mind?’
‘Aye, she is, and it’s bad, but don’t say owt.’
Mrs Godfern started to play the piano at that moment, and though even to the untrained ear Mrs Leary’s old piano needed tuning, the sound increased the joviality.
‘Dance?’
‘Eeh, Simon, in here? There’s no room.’
‘Clear a space, everyone – let’s all have a dance.’
Simon’s commanding voice had everyone shifting the furniture to the walls and rolling up the rug. Lilly Jordan, whose husband was missing in action and who lived two doors away, shouted, ‘It’ll have to be an “Excuse me” dance, as there’s only five men and all of us women, and we all want a turn.’ Laughter filled the room at this, but quietened when Mrs Godfern started to play a haunting waltz. Mr Godfern took his daughter in his arms, while Roland gallantly asked Mrs Leary, and old Mr Burns, who had not long turned ninety and lived along the road, bowed to Lilly and asked for the honour. Everyone clapped her when she went into his arms. No one mentioned the tear they saw glistening on her cheek. Shy Mr Leary took that moment to sneak out of the room and through to the kitchen.
‘Well, Flo, that leaves me and you.’
Simon’s arm came round her, and his hand took hers. Everything around Flo faded into the awareness she had of him. The strength of his body, the smell of him, the feel of him close. It was as if there were just the two of them in the room. Lulled into the beauty of the moment, Flo leaned her head on Simon’s shoulder. A tap on her arm brought her to her senses. ‘Someone said this was an “Excuse me” dance. May I?’ Roland looked into her eyes.
A blush rose to her cheeks. She went to stammer her apology, but Roland laughed. ‘Funny what a couple of sherries can do. Hope they are still working their magic on you, and you’ll cuddle up to me like that.’
She laughed with him and the moment passed. ‘Aye, it will. You’re me first love. Nowt can outdo the love a girl has for her teacher.’ They giggled and Roland held her close. So much so that his glasses were knocked off his nose. This sent them into a fit of childish laughter. When they came out of it and sobered up, Kathy was asking Roland to continue the dance with her. Flo walked towards an empty chair next to Eunice. She could feel Simon’s eyes on her, but didn’t look over towards him. Afraid he’d come and claim her again, she asked Eunice, ‘Are you up to doing a few steps, lass?’
Eunice smiled as she stood up. ‘I’d have liked it to be a gentleman that asked me, but you’ll do.’
Flo held her gently, taking the male role and trying not to let her worry for Eunice show, or to exert her too much. She was rewarded with Eunice’s lovely tinkling laughter as they glided around. ‘Eeh, this is grand. It reminds me of that social we went to, when we were young lasses. Ginger Small had an eye for you in them days, Eunice. Do you remember when he asked you to dance, and left you with that many bruises on your feet and ankles that you never spoke to him again?’
‘Ha, I do. I wonder what happened to him?’
‘He’s away fighting somewhere, bless him.’
‘I’d like to write to him. I treated him badly. He were a nice lad, even if he couldn’t dance!’
‘Well, that’s his mam over there. You’ll know her by her hair – it beats yours and Ginger’s.’
‘Cheeky madam. But I will ask her for his address. I’d love to get in touch with him.’
‘By the way, we’re giving you a lift back to London tomorrow. It will be less tiring for you – you can go to sleep on the back seat, if you want to. We’ll be leaving early as we have to get back; we need to be on the road for nine.’
‘Aw, thanks, Flo. It’ll be nice to have company. I had too much thinking time on the way up here.’ The music stopped and, as if the momentum had left Eunice, she slumped onto Flo. Simon saw what was happening and was by her side in seconds. Without commenting, he gently helped Eunice to a seat. ‘I – I need to lie down . . . sorry.’
‘Can you give her a hand up to my bed, Simon? She hasn’t got a bed of her own tonight and was to sleep on this sofa, but I can take that.’
Simon gestured to Roland, and between them they carried Eunice through to the kitchen. Everyone had gone quiet. ‘Carry on, everyone . . . Too much sherry.’ They all chuckled as Flo said this, and the music set up again. A hand came on Flo’s arm as she turned to follow Roland and Simon out of the room. She turned and saw a concerned Maisie Small. ‘I don’t like it, Flo. What’s ailing her?’
‘Eeh, Mrs Small. All I can tell you is that she’s proper poorly. Will you do sommat for her?’
‘Aye, owt she needs, of course I will.’
‘She wants to write to Ging— I mean, your Gordon. He had a thing for her when they were young, and she’s been asking after him.’
‘By, he’ll be made up. He’s never stopped talking about her, you know.’
‘Have you a pen and paper, love?’
‘Ask Mr Leary. I reckon he’s outside having a smoke, hiding away from the dancing. He’ll help you. He allus knaws where owt of that nature is. I’ll make sure I get it from him and give it to Eunice.’
As Mrs Small turned towards the back door, Flo ran towards the stairs and up to her bedroom. ‘Is Eunice alreet?’
Simon answered her. ‘Yes. Just very tired.’
‘Eeh, Simon, I shouldn’t have made her dance. You both go downstairs and help to keep the party going for a while. I’ll help her to undress and snuggle her down.’
As they approached Simon’s house later the next day, having dropped Eunice off at the hospital, Simon asked what was wrong with Eunice. On Flo telling him, his hand came over to her lap and folded itself around her tightly clasped hands. He didn’t speak, but the effect of Simon touching her sent a feeling through her that she found hard to control. Latching onto the comfort of the gesture helped her, as she told him how she and Eunice had become friends. ‘We’re the kind of friends who don’t need to see each other all the time to keep our love for one another alive. You know, like family. Which we are, really.’
‘Yes, I understand. Though I hope I don’t become a friend like that. I want to be in your company all the time.’
Ignoring this, Flo changed the subject: ‘We’ll have to look sharpish when we get back – there’s only an hour to when we have to start to stock the van.’
It hardly seemed so much time had passed before they were at the Salvation Army lock-up and loading up stores, having dumped their cases at Simon’s, had a drink of water and a quick swill to freshen themselves.
‘There’s a lot of supplies already there, as the van has been operating all afternoon. It’s on the bombed-out site of St Anne’s Church,’ Mr Jenkinson told them.
‘I heard the tower of that church was still standing. Is it safe?’ Simon asked.
‘Yes, that’s all cordoned off – the van’s just inside the gates. Will yer be able to manage on yer own? I know yer were promised help for the first couple of shifts, but there’s no one to call on.’
‘We’ll be fine, as long as those we’re taking over from can show us the ropes before they leave.’
‘Aye, that’d be a help. But don’t worry, we have helped in a van afore, and with the closing down at the end of the shift,’ Flo added.
‘I know; I were told, Miss. Nothing like being thrown in the bleedin’ deep end, eh? It’ll probably be busy, an’ all. All the vans and depots have been busier over the holiday. I reckon folk were using the truce to take the chance to socialize around the vans a bit and get sommat that’s hot inside them. Not many had what yer could call a jolly Christmas. But it was all happening again last night.’
After telling them where the nearest shelter was if there was a raid, and to drop off any food and the washing up they had left at St Thomas’s Church in Regent Street, the man gave them some quick directions.
It didn’t take long to arrive at the van. A queue of people stood waiting. The couple Flo and Simon were to take over from had closed the hatch while they cleaned down and prepared some more hot soup. Flo dived in to help, while Simon ferried the man to St Thomas’s Church to take the dirty pots and collect more clean ones.
The woman greeted Flo as she stepped inside the van. ‘Me name’s Rhoda, what’s yours, lav?’
‘I’m Flo. Pleased to meet you. Looks like you’ve been run off your feet.’
‘We have, and you’ll be no different. Look, yer might get a few of the prostitutes. They’ve worked a bit later during the truce, and we welcomed them for the first time. We used to give them short shrift, but me man works as an ARP and he were talking to one a bit back. What she told him makes your hair curl, poor bleeders. I’ve put the word out that they’re welcome here and if they want any help we’ll give it.’
‘Reet-o.’
‘I’ve never met a northern girl before. What’re you doing down this neck of the woods then, Flo?’
‘I’m in the Wrens. I do boring office work. This’ll give me a bit of excitement.’
‘Ha, I don’t know about that. Though it could turn hairy, if there’s a raid. But nice to know you’re doing your bit. Ah, here’s the men. We’ll run things through with yer both, then leave yer to it. But mind you move to St Thomas’s before it’s dark, if you think there’s still a need of your services. It’ll be all blacked-out, ready. Folk know to enter the door, then close that before they open the inner doors where it’s light. Good luck.’
With the rush over, they had done as advised and had moved to the church hall. Once there, they were able to distribute warm clothing from the stored stock, as well as keep up a steady supply of hot drinks and soup. Flo had never been so busy in her life. The cockney crowd had been in high spirits and she’d felt so much admiration for them.
‘Well, we didn’t do bad for our first time on our own, did we?’
‘Naw, it went well. Here, I’ve poured you a cuppa. Go and have five minutes while I clear up, Simon – you look done in. You’ve had a long day, with the drive back and everything.’
‘Don’t mind if I do take the weight off for a mo. Thanks, Flo.’
Flo watched the glow of Simon’s cigarette. The hall was quiet now and she was acutely aware that they were alone. Sighing, she began to gather up the dirty pots and take them towards the kitchen. A brash voice stopped her. ‘You open, lav?’
Flo turned to see two women coming through the door. As they came closer, she knew they were prostitutes by their clothes and make-up. Why her nerves tightened her throat, she didn’t know, but she didn’t let this show in her greeting. ‘Aye, what can I get you, lasses? We’ve tea, but no milk and sugar, and a couple of bowls of soup left. Oh, and I reckon I could find sommat nice, an’ all.’
The one with the blonde hair laughed out loud. ‘Lav your accent, darling. I’m all right, as it happens, but me mate here, she’s starving. What’s yer name? Mine’s Trixie, and this is Molly, for her sins.’
‘I’m Flo, and that’s Simon over there, having a break. Shall I pour you a pot of tea, Molly?’
‘I couldn’t drink a whole pot, but ta, I’ll take a mug.’
As Molly came nearer, Flo gasped. Her face was a mass of cuts and bruises. She covered up her distress by making a joke. ‘Oh, don’t mind me. That’s just a saying up north. I should have said “a nice cup of Rosie Lee”.’
They all laughed then.
‘You make a nice change, girl. The others are all right, but yer get the feeling they think themselves saints to bother with us, if yer know what I mean.’
‘Eeh, I’m sorry to hear that, Trixie. Here you are, Molly. Can I do owt else for you girls?’
‘Molly’ll have sommat to eat, once she’s downed that, ta, lav.’
‘We have some warm clothes in the store at the back of the church. If you’ve a mind to have them, you’re very welcome.’
‘Ha, I don’t reckon yer’ll have any as we like, lav; but ta, anyway. Are yer going to be here very often?’
‘Not sure, to be honest.’ Flo told them her set story about working for the forces and how they just did this on odd occasions. She wished with all her heart that she could help the one called Molly. Trixie came across as if she could take care of herself, but Molly looked afraid. ‘Eeh, Molly, you look like you fell out with a tram. We have a first-aid kit on board. I could clean your cuts up a bit for you.’
‘They should teach you bleedin’ lot not to interfere. Molly’s all right, ain’t yer, girl?’
Simon got up. He ground the remainder of his cigarette into the ashtray. ‘It’s not interfering, to offer help – that’s what we’re here for. Flo wouldn’t dream of poking her nose into your business, and neither does she deserve to have you talk to her like that.’
‘And who are you, when yer bleedin’ mother ain’t at home, then?’
‘Don’t, Trixie. Flo didn’t mean no harm, and this bloke’s just looking out for her, like you do me.’
‘Well, I’m sorry, I’m sure. But we came for a cup of tea and sommat for you to eat. That’s all, and she wants to play bleedin’ Florence Nightingale. Ha, that’s funny, as that’s her bleedin’ name!’
Both girls laughed at this and Flo joined in. ‘By, I’m no Florence Nightingale, I tell you. Seeing to a few cuts is me limit.’
‘You’re all right, you are, girl. Ain’t she, Molly?’
‘Yes. Ta, Flo, I know you meant well, but we have to be careful.’
‘Flo don’t want to hear that, Molly. Now, can we have some soup, please, Flo? Not for me, but for Molly.’
Flo dished up a good mugful of soup and watched as the two girls went to sit down on the bench where Simon had been. The one called Trixie lit up a cigarette.
‘I don’t like the look of that poor girl, Flo. But the one smoking, she’s a bit brash and looks like she can take care of herself.’
‘Aye, I reckon you’re reet, Simon. But I think as she’ll take care of her mate, an’ all, and that’s what made her snap at me. I wonder why she looks so much better off than Molly? Eeh, I wish I could do sommat for them.’
‘We can only give what they will take. You’ve offered, and that’s all you can do. Look, go and sit with them a while, have a smoke; you must feel like one, you’ve been on your feet for hours.’
‘By, that’d be grand. I ain’t much of a smoker, but at times like this I welcome one.’
The women moved over as Flo approached.
‘Park your bottom on there, lav, I’ve warmed it for yer. I can warm any spot.’ Trixie’s high laugh accompanied this, and Flo didn’t miss the implication.
She grinned at the girls. ‘So, if I offer me help, you look on it as interfering – is that a London way? Only where I come from, we all help each other, and I had the impression it was like that down here.’
‘No. It ain’t that, Flo.’ Molly lit a cigarette and blew out a ring of smoke. ‘It’s just the same as us asking you about your work in that office. There’s some things that can’t be interfered with. You see, we have certain people – gangsters – that control—’
‘Shut yer mouth, Molly, yer can’t go telling her that.’
Molly clamped up.
‘I reckon I knaw what you mean. The woman I took over from said that her husband is an ARP and he’d spoken to one of you and she’d told him about her life. I feel sorry for you.’
‘That wouldn’t be you, would it, Molly? I tell yer, girl, yer’ll never learn. Look, we’re grateful for yer help, but we’re all right.’
‘You might be, Trixie, but I’m not. I live in fear.’
‘Molly! Christ, if yer going to blab to every Tom, Dick and Harry, yer’ll be in further trouble. What if Flo calls the police, eh? Where’d yer be then, eh? At the bottom of the bleedin’ Thames, that’s where. I’ll find a way of getting yer out. We managed it for Ruby, didn’t we?’
Flo couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She racked her brains as to how she could give Molly a way of contacting her. There was something about the girl that had touched Flo’s heart and she wanted to help her. ‘Don’t be at worrying – I won’t contact the police. I don’t knaw owt, anyroad.’
‘Look, Trixie, I have to make a break for it soon. You know that. What if Flo gives me a coat and sommat to sustain me? Then I needn’t go back again. Cos I’ve made me mind up. It’s going to be tonight. It has to be. I can’t take any more beatings.’
This surprised Flo, but she didn’t speak. She waited for Trixie’s reaction.
‘But what about your stash? Yer’ll need that – yer won’t get far without money, girl.’
‘You’re right, of course. What if you keep the coat for me, Trixie? I could go back and get me money and then escape later out of the window. You could meet me with the coat, and I could take me chances from there.’
‘All right. If yer sure. Give me the coat and what yer’ve got, Flo, that’ll help her.’
‘Where will you go, Molly? By, it’s cold out there, lass, and there’s the threat of an air raid, an’ all.’
‘Just get what yer can for her, Flo – the rest ain’t your concern.’
Flo rummaged in the box marked ‘Coats’. Most of what she found she wouldn’t give to a young woman. But then she came across a camel coat that must have been donated by someone with a bit of money. It was the size she’d guessed Molly was, and made of pure wool. Taking it out for Molly, Flo tried once again to offer more help. ‘Molly, what if you had a contact number for me, eh? I’d do me best to help you, if you found you needed it. Hang on a mo.’
Hurrying back to Simon, Flo asked how they could be contacted.
‘Flo, what are you thinking of? You can’t get involved. You’ll be in trouble, if anything backfires on you. You can’t make yourself responsible for every waif and stray in London. You have a high-risk job and you have to protect that – and your reputation – with everything you have.’
‘I knaw. But, Simon, that girl needs help. I don’t see how that can compromise me.’
The sound of a door banging had them both turning round. ‘Looks like you don’t have the problem any more, darling. They’ve gone.’
Flo’s heart fell. ‘Eeh, that’s sad, Simon. They’re scared to death. Especially Molly. That Trixie said something about her ending up at the bottom of the Thames. You read such things, but you never think you’ll meet people who know it as a reality.’
‘My lovely Flo. You want to save the world, when it’s not possible to do so. Let’s get cleared up and get home. There’s no one else around looking for help, and if there’s a raid I want to be in my own shelter with my own comforts.’
‘Eeh, it’s a good thing as there’s no one else. We’ve nowt left. I gave Molly the last of that soup. By, I hope it fills a hole for the poor lass.’
‘Never mind about them; you need to think of yourself. You’ve had a lot to take on board, and a hefty few days off. I’ve been thinking. As we don’t have to be back until Monday morning, I’ll drive you to Southend-on-Sea tomorrow. It’ll probably be cold, but if we wrap up warm we can take a walk and let the sea air blow away some cobwebs, before we go back to that stuffy office and work out what Hitler has planned, now the truce is over.’
‘That’d be grand. You know, war is a bad time and brings a lot of sadness, but for ordinary lasses like me who never had much, it’s opened up a new world. I thought I would live and die in Leeds; now I find meself hobnobbing with the likes of you and the debutantes who work at Bletchley, and experiencing London. And now I’m going to the seaside. It all beggars belief.’
Simon laughed. ‘It works both ways. My life has been enriched by you coming into it, as has the lives of all those girls in Bletchley. But for the war, we would have missed out on that.’ He was close to her and now took her hand and looked into her eyes. His voice deepened. ‘I’m so glad that I didn’t miss out on you, Flo. You don’t know what you have given me.’
Flo saw the love in his eyes. Wanted to take hold of what it would mean for her, but knew she couldn’t. Forcing a smile, she released her hand from his and turned her attention to the work in hand. She had to accept that the love she had for Simon must always remain a secret. But knowing that didn’t help, or stop the ache in her heart.