Brighter Days Ahead

Ten days had passed – some of them in a haze for Flo. But there had been so much work to do, which had given her a distraction, though times without number she’d lifted her head whilst deeply engrossed in a difficult equation to ask Simon for help. These had been painful moments.

On hearing what had happened, Belinda’s parents had changed their mind about making the girls choose what furniture they wanted and transporting it themselves, and had sent them a vanload of furniture and two men to place it all, as well as bedding, towels and kitchen utensils – all they would need really.

The flat looked lovely, if a little imposing, with the grand furniture gracing it. The beds weren’t just iron-sprung ones, as Flo was used to, but had carved wooden headboards and frames, and latticework cords to hold the deep, feather-filled mattresses in place. There were four in all and these had been assembled, two in each bedroom.

The front-room furniture didn’t quite look at home in the square, plain surroundings it was placed in, but to Flo it seemed as if she lived in a palace. The deep-maroon velvet chaise-longue and the two gold velvet high-backed chairs were fit for a queen and were set off by the mahogany occasional tables and bureau, all of which had intricately carved legs. But it was the Persian rug that added the touch of pure magnificence to the room. Stretching to within a foot of each of the walls, it brought together the golds and maroons in a pattern of flowers so beautifully woven that it gave Flo the feeling of standing in a glorious garden.

The flat had become a home, and a haven, in such a short space of time; and Flo had been glad that Belinda had decided still to sleep in the same room as her. It had been good to have her near in those moments when everything became too much for her, or a bad dream woke her.

The news about Roland had been another terrible blow. Roland had pleaded guilty and had been dealt with by a magistrate within two days. In his distraught state, he hadn’t listened to the lawyer who was willing to fight for him, and had been sentenced to two years in prison for gross indecency with another man. This had compounded Flo’s pain and completed the shattering of her world.

With all that was going on, Flo found herself torn as to what to do next. She had two rest days to take and felt pulled in so many directions, she didn’t know which way to turn. London tugged, as she desperately wanted to find out how Eunice was and what her results were, and to catch up with Molly and Pauline; but she also needed to go home, to be hugged by Mrs Leary and to do childlike things with Kathy, to feel their love for her protect her and soothe the pain she was cocooned in. But then there was Roland, too. She knew he was in Wandsworth Prison and she had asked about visiting him, only to be told he wouldn’t be allowed any visitors for at least a month. His plight tore at her heart. All she’d been able to do was send a message through Belinda’s solicitor to tell Roland of her love for him and to talk of their shared grief. She asked him to stay strong, and promised she would come and see him the moment they allowed her to. She’d also written the letter to Simon’s parents that the general had suggested she do.

At times her tears had smudged the ink and she’d had to start again, but she’d managed to include as many happy memories as she could. Doing so had helped, and made her feel as if she’d known Simon and Lucinda for a lifetime. She’d spoken of their love for one another and how they had cared for each other, and of the special love she and Simon had shared, and how they had all loved Roland. She’d also included a small paragraph on the love Simon and Roland had shared. Though she’d found it very difficult to put into words, in her heart she knew it was right to tell them where Roland was, and the reason he was there. She expressed her opinion of Roland feeling immense grief and guilt at Simon’s death, and asked if they would find it in their hearts to write to him:

What happened wasn’t his fault. Roland is only guilty of loving your son and of giving him, and sharing in, the happiness that shone from them both when they were together. I know it is difficult to understand the kind of love they had for each other – I found it difficult at first – but just being with them gave one an understanding and a sense that it was right that they should be together. Both believed in God and practised their faith, and I firmly believe that God would not have denied their love and that Simon is resting in Heaven and at peace, with dear Lucinda. I hope that, for the peace of your own hearts, you can come to think of their union in this way, too.

Although the sentiments were her own, Belinda had helped Flo to write them in this eloquent way, as she hadn’t wanted the meaning distorted, as might have happened with her northern twist of the language confusing them. In reality she’d wanted to put her arms around them and say, ‘Eeh, you had a grand lad there, in your Simon, there were none better. He were a loving, kind and thoughtful man and he shared that with me, making me the luckiest lass in the world to have known him. And I loved him, with me all.’

The general had read the letter. He’d hesitated over it for a while, but in the end he’d looked up at her and nodded, then dismissed her without a word. This had given Flo confidence and helped her to know she’d chosen the right words, even though something she’d written had unsettled the general for a moment – probably her references to Roland. And so now all she could do was wait for the outcome of the inquest into Simon’s death and hope, with everything in her, that he was cleared of the murder of the vicious man who’d taken his life. She also hoped very much that Simon’s mother and stepfather would write back to her, as that, she knew, would help to settle her mind and might go some way to soothe the pain of her broken heart.

Still torn apart by her decision to deny herself the comfort of Mrs Leary’s and Kathy’s loving presence, Flo stood at the reception desk of the military hospital in Endell Street, waiting to be told where Eunice was.

‘Here you are, love: Ward Twelve. Nurse Eunice Dirkham. That’s the one, ain’t it?’

‘I don’t see why not. We don’t stand on the ceremony of specific visiting times for our nurses. Hang on, while I contact the sister of the ward for you.’

Flo’s stomach muscles tightened with fear about what she might discover. No wonder Eunice hadn’t been in touch. She wouldn’t want to worry Flo. With Eunice being in a ward, Flo could only surmise that the news wasn’t good.

As Flo walked the corridors to the ward, the squeaking of her shoes on the polished lino increased her trepidation. Each footstep seemed to count down to doom. But when she saw a sign pointing in the direction of Ward 12, she took a deep breath and told herself, Be strong, lass. Put all you’re going through to the back of your mind and be strong for Eunice.

This helped, but didn’t save her altogether, as she opened the door to find herself in a small private room with its only occupant looking nothing like Eunice, but a shadow of the person she’d been just a short time ago.

‘It’s all right, Flo. Honestly, don’t take on. I’m going to get well. They operated the moment they found the tumour. It was in my lower bowel, and they’re confident they have it all. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you, but it all happened so quickly.’

This good news did to Flo what bad news couldn’t have done. She no longer had to be strong, and so her weak, vulnerable heart came to the fore and she collapsed onto the chair next to the bed, buried her head in Eunice’s pillow and wept.

Gradually she became aware of Eunice’s hand stroking her hair, allowing Flo to empty her heart of tears, not trying to stop her and not asking her any questions. With this soothing of her pain, Flo was able to control the outpouring of emotions and calm herself. ‘Eeh, I’m sorry, lass, that’s the last thing you needed.’

‘No. It was the first. I know what happened – I had a letter from Mrs Leary. And all I’ve wanted to do was to hold you, Flo.’

‘Ta, love. I . . . it was the relief. It seemed to say that now I could take some comfort. Not that I haven’t been offered any, but there’s nowt like it coming from your own.’

‘I am, Flo. I’ve nothing to worry about. The tumour was contained, but they’ve had to take away part of my lower bowel. I can live without it. But the main thing is that they feel certain they have all of the cancer and it hasn’t spread anywhere.’

‘And I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what’s happened – it’s tragic. How are you coping, Flo?’

When she’d finished, Eunice just said, ‘I guessed you’d given your heart to Simon, love. It was a love that might not have gone anywhere, but I suppose you always had hope that it would, but now . . .’

‘That’s it. That is part of my desolation. If Simon had lived, I could have hoped. And even come to accept if that love wasn’t to be, as I could still have him in my life as a friend, but now there is nothing.’

‘Not nothing, Flo. You have your memories. You have that Simon told you he loved you in a way that he loved no other, and wanted to deepen that by making love to you. That’s a precious memory to have.’

‘Aye, it is. And one I shall treasure. I have to think of them as are living and need me. That’ll bring me through all of this. Oh, Eunice, I’m so glad you’re not going to be one of them.’

They both laughed, and the feeling was a good one. ‘Eeh, lass, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m so glad as you’re going to get better. I couldn’t bear the thought of owt happening to you.’

‘No, me neither, and I’m looking forward to being strong enough to be able to leave here. Lucky me, I get to spend three months back home.’

‘By, lass, that’s the best news I’ve ever heard. Lucky you. These last days I’ve longed for the uncomplicated days of home.’

‘Aye, I have. She’s the only mam I remember having. And she’s the best one we could ever have, an’ all.’

‘Well, I’ve made my mind up. I’m going to ask her if I can call her “Mam”. I’ve wanted to for a long time.’

‘It’s funny you should say that, as I’ve thought about asking her, an’ all. I reckon it was fear that she might not like me doing so that’s held me back. I worried because she’s never asked us to call her “Mam”.’

‘We won’t know, if we don’t ask, will we? So I’m going to. I mean, I want to. I want her to know what she means to me.’

‘I’ll tell you what: I’ll write a note for you to give to her, telling her it’s what I want, an’ all. Otherwise, she might think I’m just saying it because you have.’

‘No. We’ll do it together. Come up to see us as soon as you can, Flo. Let’s all be a family together, eh? Me, you, little Kathy and Mr and Mrs Leary.’

‘Aye, that’d be grand, lass. And I hope they won’t mind us asking, because I reckon we should ask Mr Leary to let us call him “Dad”, as that’s what he has been to us. A quiet but loving and stable influence in our lives.’

‘That will be lovely. I don’t think they’ll say no. I think they have always left it to us, and not tried to replace our own mams, but to be a substitute for them. And they’ve done a wonderful job of it.’

The cold March wind whipped Flo’s coat around her legs, causing her to shiver as she left the hospital. Looking up at the heavy, cloud-laden sky, she hoped the weather would worsen, then there would be little chance of an air raid. This thought lifted her already-lightened heart even further. There was still a life to live, and one that was enriched with wonderful people who loved her. They would be her prop. She would get through all this misery. She’d do it with the help of these loved ones, and by doing all she could for those who needed her.

With this thought, she walked tall, making her way to the station to catch the train that would take her to Pauline and Molly. She would call at the Sallies’ van to see if Pauline was on duty. She had a favour to ask; she needed a bed for the night, otherwise she’d have to find a guesthouse, as she wasn’t going to miss staying over. She wanted to offer her services to man one of the soup kitchens later that afternoon.

Pauline’s smile held concern. ‘They been working you hard, love? Yer look done in. Give me a mo and I’ll be with yer.’

This was the worst part for Flo, the telling of Simon’s death and all that had happened over and over again, and having to deal with the emotions it conjured up in those who loved her, as much as it did her own emotions. ‘I’m fine, though in need of a bed for the neet.’

‘Aye, it has. I’ll tell yer when we get to your house. Is Molly all right?’

‘Sort of, but not well yet.’ Pauline handed a bowl of steaming soup to her next customer, gave a word of comfort and asked if there was anything else she needed. Once she’d dealt with her, she stepped out of the van. ‘Course yer can stay, love – be glad to have yer. I’ve only got to do another hour and I’ll be with yer. Make yer way to the house and see Molly, eh?’

‘I’ll go and check in at the depot first, to offer me services for this evening. I need to keep busy. I’ll see you later, Pauline. And ta, lass, I’m reet glad as you can have me for the neet.’

As soon as Flo opened the door to Pauline’s house she knew the reason for Pauline’s less-than-enthusiastic response to her question about how Molly was doing. There was a gaunt, lost expression on Molly’s face, and one of fear.

‘Eeh, Molly, it’s good to see you, but I expected to find you much improved in your health, lass.’

Molly collapsed in her arms. Flo helped her to the sofa underneath the window. The room was much as she expected, though she’d never stepped inside before. Brown was the dominant colour, with a horsehair sofa in a dark-brown material shedding some of its stuffing around the arms, and a brown brushed-velvet cloth covering the wooden table that stood in the centre of the room. A fire spat sparks onto the rag rug, which was already pockmarked with burns. That, too, was brown. Only the yellow curtains brought some relief to the overall shabby look of the place. But although every corner and every piece of furniture showed wear and tear, the room was spotless and gave the feel of being a home.

The clamminess of Molly’s skin, as Flo held her to her, worried Flo. ‘So, you’re not feeling much better, lass? Have you a lot of pain?’

‘Eeh, love, we’re going to have to get medical help. I can pay the callout fee a doctor would charge.’

‘No, Flo. I told you: they’ll be looking for me. I dread a knock on the door, for fear it’ll be one of them. If I’m sent to a hospital, they’ll find me.’

‘I know, and that will have increased their determination.’ Molly sighed as she leaned back. ‘Flo, I know of a good doctor. A quack who looks after the working girls. He’ll come and he won’t say a word about where I am to nobody. He’s a good bloke and knows how it is for us working girls.’

‘No. You mustn’t go to that area – sommat might happen to you. We’ll ask Pauline if she has someone she trusts who can take a message. I haven’t done so up to now as I haven’t got money to pay him with, but if you’re sure you can pay, Flo, I think I do need help. I’m scared. Me lungs hurt when I breathe in, and I get a sharp pain under me shoulder.’

‘All right, love, don’t worry. It’ll be sorted. Let me make you a drop of tea. The cure for all ills.’

‘Ta, Flo. But I haven’t asked how you are, and I can see you have sommat on your mind.’

‘I don’t mind telling you, lass, I’ve been through the mill, and am still going through it, but . . . well, the telling about it can wait till Pauline gets here. I can’t go over it twice.’

Molly didn’t press her and Flo was glad of that, as she busied herself putting the kettle onto the grate-plate and swinging it over the flames to boil. Finding the tea and mugs, Flo soon had them a hot drink and felt comforted, as the sipping of it brought colour to Molly’s pale cheeks.

Their small talk covered a lot, and yet nothing at all really. The underlying fear of unburdening herself was always there for Flo. Eventually Molly showed signs of weariness and Flo helped her to lie down. Covering her with a woollen blanket that she found folded over one arm of the sofa gave Flo the feeling that getting the doctor was urgent. ‘Tell me where this doctor is, Molly, just in case you fall asleep. I can give the directions to Pauline then.’ Molly didn’t protest, but gave her the street and house number. Her eyes closed once she’d done this.

Flo stood for a few moments looking around the room for a likely place to find some notepaper and a pencil. At home such things were kept in the bureau drawer, but there wasn’t anything in this room that resembled that kind of furniture. As her gaze fell on the table, she remembered how Mrs Leary’s table, which wasn’t dissimilar to this one, had drawers in it. Maybe that was a good place to start.

Finding what she needed, she wrote down the address and then penned a note to Pauline, saying that she was going for a doctor. Looking at her watch, Flo realized she had very little time left. The director of operations at the Salvation Army depot had asked her to man the same van that she and Simon had last manned, at the bombsite of St Anne’s Church. She’d to be there by five and it was already a quarter past three.

Deciding that the two destinations – the doctor’s house and the soup van – must be very close to one another, as that was where she’d first met Molly, Flo added to her note that she might not come back until after she’d done her shift, but would make sure the doctor came in any case.

Flo jumped. The voice had come from inside the cafe she was passing and stopped her in her tracks. Relief entered her as she recognized Trixie, who’d been with Molly the first time they’d met.

‘Flo, ain’t it? If yer looking for Molly, yer out of luck; she’s been gone a good while now, thank goodness, though I wish I could hear from her. I’m worried sick over her.’

Torn as to whether to trust Trixie with where Molly was, Flo stammered her reply. ‘I – I were told as there were a doctor around here.’

‘You know where Molly is, don’t yer?’ Trixie said this in hushed tones, looking this way and that as she did so.

‘Yer can trust me, lav. I’d not do anything to hurt Molly. I helped her get two of them away from that place she was in. Besides, I have news for her, and it’s vital it gets to her. I’ve been out of me mind. Look, give me a penny or sommat: make yourself look like a do-gooder who’s stopped to help me. Then walk on. I’ll meet yer somewhere later. There’s eyes and ears everywhere.’

Flo took her purse out and gave a few coins to Trixie. ‘I’m going to be at St Anne’s Church the neet. Try to come to see me there. I start at five.’

‘The neet? Oh, you mean tonight? Ha, that’s a good one. But I will. Do you know where you’re going now?’

‘Aye. I got me taxi driver to drop me a few streets from where I were told as it was, then I asked a passer-by. I were afraid to be taken there, just in case the taxi driver was too curious.’

Trixie turned from her and went back towards the cafe. The incident had frightened Flo. She looked around her, before moving off.

As she was about to turn into Winnett Street she had the sensation of someone following her. Sweat broke out over her body. Not daring to look round, she crossed the road instead of taking the route she wanted. There were plenty of people around, and she’d scream if anyone touched her.

The feeling persisted. Once she stepped onto the kerb, she turned quickly and almost bumped into a large man. Shock registered on his face. ‘It is you, ma’am!’

His accent was American or Canadian, Flo couldn’t be sure, but her fear left her. ‘Eeh, you gave me a fright. What’re you doing? Were you following me?’

‘I was, ma’am, begging your pardon. Let me introduce myself: my name is Art and, well, I’ve been taken with you for a long time.’

This astounded Flo. No one had ever spoken so openly to her before. ‘Aye, I know who you are now.’ So this was the man who’d helped Molly, and yes, she could remember him.

‘I’m stationed at Biggin Hill. I’m in the Canadian air force. I saw you working in a Salvation Army soup kitchen and I fell in love with you, ma’am.’

‘I’m telling the truth. I’ve not been able to get you out of my mind. Will you do me the honour of having tea with me? Though not anywhere here – we’ll go to the Savoy. What’s a nice girl like you doing in this area, anyways?’

Flo couldn’t help but giggle. Art’s forward manner took her breath away. But there was something about him and his ways that lit a spark in her, which she never thought ever to feel again. ‘I’d ask you the same, as there seems to me to be only one reason why men frequent these streets.’ Saying this, a blush crept over Flo’s face. Does he think I’m here doing business? Flustered, she blurted out, ‘I can’t go with you. I don’t know you, and anyroad I’m on a mission to get a doctor for a sick person. And then I’ve to get to the soup kitchen, as I’m to help out.’

‘I’ll come with you. Where’s this doctor live? Will your friends be at the soup kitchen? I can help out, if you like. I’m on a twenty-four-hour pass.’

He was like a whirlwind. One that took no heed of niceties or propriety, but barged straight to the point. In a small way, it was refreshing. All of a sudden, Flo felt she could trust Art, whatever his reason was for being here. ‘Alreet. You can come with me. I’d be glad to have you, as I’m nervous being around here. We need to go back across the road. I dashed over here because the street I needed looked deserted, and I thought you . . . Well, anyroad, we’d better get going.’

As they crossed back over, he held her arm. ‘To tell the truth, ma’am, I’m on a mercy mission myself. You’re Flo, aren’t you?’

Molly must have told him her name. They’d reached the doctor’s house, but the nervous feeling that had overcome Flo made her wary of knocking on the door. She nodded to Art. ‘Aye, that’s me. Ta for helping me friend. I – I’ve to . . . I mean, I’m here now.’

Flo knew now that the impression she’d formed of Art – from the time he’d put some money in their collection tin to support them in some way, and from what Molly had said about him – had been the right one. He was just a nice man. She still found it strange that he should say he loved her, but she supposed that was the way of folk where he came from. ‘Aye, that’d be grand. You calling me “ma’am” makes me think above me station, as them as are high up in this country are addressed in that way, not ordinary folk like me. Anyroad, Molly – the girl you helped – is still not well, and it’s for her that I need the doctor.’

With this, Flo found the courage that had deserted her and knocked on the door of the house. Her nerves jangled, as she couldn’t dispel the feeling she was dealing in something that wasn’t legal. After all, this man wasn’t a practising doctor and could be anybody, for all she knew. But needs must.

The doctor immediately agreed to go to Molly. ‘I know the young woman, and I know the area you say she is in. And yes, I understand the need for secrecy, don’t worry.’

Despite her earlier misgivings, Flo was flooded with relief, as the doctor instilled confidence in her that all would be right with Molly now.

As she and Art walked away from the house, Flo felt a knot in her stomach. Art was a stranger to her really, and yet he didn’t feel like one. It was weird how he’d come up behind her, but she supposed she did stick out amongst the women in this area, dressed as she was in her calf-length dark-grey coat and felt hat and sporting leather ankle boots – clothes that distinguished her from the scantily dressed women offering their services, and that would make her easy to spot. Especially to someone who was deliberately looking for a particular person and so was scrutinizing every passer-by.

She had to admit that something about Art felt right and she wanted to get to know him. No, it was more than that; she felt compelled to know more about him, and to have him in her life, not for a fleeting time, but as a friend.

‘You knaw, I’d like it very much if you wanted to come with me to help me on the van. It’s more than likely as I were going to have to man it on me own. But we’d better go and see the organizer first, as I couldn’t just let you help me without his approval.’

‘I’d love that, ma’— Flo. In any case, I wasn’t going to leave you until my train was due. I was going to sit on the nearest wall and watch you.’

‘Eeh, you’re a funny one.’ The giggle that came out with this had a depth to it. To Flo, it seemed like the first time she’d really felt like giggling since . . . But she’d not think of that, not now. She’d plenty of time to revisit her grief when she was with Molly and Pauline later on. She had to face telling them all about it yet. By, that’s going to be an ordeal for me, as it is. Better that I get on with things. And, strangely, Flo knew for certain that being with Art would help her to do that.