‘Happy birthday to me!’ Dorothy announced as soon as she reached her workmates. It was the start of their Saturday ‘half-shift’, which wasn’t really half a shift as such, as it was just one hour short of a full one, but as they’d been working from 7.30 a.m. to 9 p.m. most weekdays, it really did feel like half a day.
‘Happy birthday, Dorothy.’ Rosie forced the words out through a clenched jaw.
The weather today really was bitterly cold, but it wasn’t just the icy winds that were causing Rosie to suffer sporadic bursts of uncontrollable shaking. Every now and again she felt her body start to tremble and, try as she might, she couldn’t stop it.
Her tremors had not gone unnoticed by the women, who’d begun to openly comment to each other, whenever Rosie was out of earshot, on how ill she was looking of late. They had been puzzled by their instructor’s increasingly ragged demeanour. They’d tried to rationalise that they all looked pretty washed-out these days – everyone was looking far from their best thanks to being blasted by the elements on a daily basis – but even Martha had felt compelled to speak up when the women were voicing their concern a few days earlier about how terrible Rosie looked. She’d moved her big spade-like hand from the top to the bottom of her own face and said gravely, ‘Grey.’
The women had agreed. Rosie’s pallor did have a sallow greyness to it, but, more worryingly, it seemed that it was coming from deep within.
‘Všechno nejlepší,’ Hannah declared excitedly, before seeing the women’s confused faces and explaining, ‘That’s “All the best in” Czech.’
‘Všechno… ne… jlepší.’ Martha carefully repeated Hannah’s words quite perfectly.
The women all turned to look at Martha and gawped at her in total disbelief. Martha still rarely spoke and when she did her words were, on the whole, monosyllabic.
Gloria dragged her astonished gaze away from Martha, who seemed completely unaware of the effect she’d had, and asked, ‘How old?’
‘Eighteen,’ Dorothy immediately replied. This really was a much better reaction than she could ever have expected. She was particularly heartened by the women’s response as she’d felt really down in the dumps this past week or so. She was used to her family’s lack of interest in her and her life in general, but it was Eddie’s ebbing fervour for her which had really caused her mood to plummet.
She had been trying to convince herself that she was being oversensitive in thinking that the man she was totally batty about was no longer quite so keen on her as he had been at the off. But the logical part of her brain told her she couldn’t keep making excuses for Eddie. He hadn’t followed through on his promise to take her to the cinema to see Gone with the Wind, and each time they’d rearranged their date he had made some excuse or other, usually that he had to work, or that he didn’t have any money, which was something else Dorothy could no longer ignore. There always seemed to be some excuse for Eddie not having any cash. And, worse still, Dorothy now had next to no money herself. Since she’d started seeing Eddie, just about every penny of her wages had been blown when they went out on dates, which were usually spent drinking in the local pubs near the yard or those in the town centre. It was a good job she was living at home, and although her parents weren’t exactly rich, they were comfortably off and, thankfully, didn’t demand she pay board and lodgings.
‘Is that Eddie taking you out tonight to celebrate?’ Gloria tried to keep her voice sounding impartial. She knew Eddie would not have stopped at chatting up the blonde crane operator. In fact, she wouldn’t have been surprised if Eddie had been seeing other women behind Dorothy’s back. Gloria had lived long enough, and seen enough of life, to know the sort of bloke Eddie was. She’d also noticed that Dorothy hadn’t been quite as loquacious of late as she usually was about her philanderer of a boyfriend. Something was amiss.
‘Oh, well, no. I think he’s working two half-shifts today,’ Dorothy said, but she sounded unsure.
Gloria looked at this girl who was easily young enough to be her daughter and felt a stab of sympathy for her. She had to give Dorothy her due, she always managed to brighten up their working day, even though Gloria was sure she didn’t always feel like being as chipper as she made out. More than anything, though, Gloria hated seeing a man take advantage of a woman, especially when she was young and naive.
‘Your mam and dad got owt planned?’ Gloria’s broad north-east accent always became more defined when she was trying to be kindly.
‘Mmmm… well, I don’t think my mum’s feeling up to much at the moment,’ Dorothy said hesitantly. ‘She’s now six months gone and I think she’s been struggling with this one. She’s blown up like a barrel.’
Gloria had always made a fuss over every one of her sons’ birthdays – and had really pushed the boat out when they’d turned eighteen. Wasn’t that what every mother did, or wanted to do? ‘Well, you’ve gotta celebrate yer eighteenth,’ she declared.
All the women were now looking at the group’s elder, surprised at how amiable she was being to Dorothy. They were more used to the two of them having verbal sparring matches than actually being nice to one another.
‘Oh, I have idea,’ Hannah trilled. ‘We all go to pub for a drink after shift… to – how do you say it? – toast Dorothy’s birthday?’
‘Oh, yes. That sounds like a great idea!’ Dorothy could hardly get the words out quickly enough. ‘I’d love to toast my birthday with you all,’ she added with undisguised glee.
‘Everyone come?’ Hannah was enjoying being the women’s social organiser.
There was a resounding yes and an enthusiastic nod from Martha. Even Rosie mumbled that she too would go for a quick one.
By the time the women had finished their half-shift they were all frozen to the bone. As soon as the last welding machine was switched off, Rosie assumed her role as leader. ‘Right, let’s get to that pub,’ she said. ‘It’s far too cold to stand around here for a second longer than necessary.’
The women grunted in agreement. None of them spoke as they walked briskly across the yard. After they all handed in their time cards, they hurried the hundred yards to the pub’s entrance.
Hannah dropped behind so as not to be the first person to walk through the door of the Admiral. Dorothy happily took the lead. This was her domain, especially as, over the past month or so, she had become quite a regular on her dates with Eddie.
As soon as they walked through the door they were hit by a fug of cigarette smoke and a blanket of toasty warmth.
‘Ah, that’s better,’ Gloria said, rubbing her hands together and unbuttoning her thick work coat. ‘Come on, Rosie,’ she said, ‘we’ll get the drinks. You lot, find us somewhere to sit. I think there’s a free table over there.’ She pointed over to the corner of the pub.
A few minutes later the women were happily ensconced around their table. Their all-female group had caused just a little wave of interest amongst the men, with only a few glances being cast over in their direction, but that was it. It had taken them a while, but their presence in the yard, coupled with their work attire, seemed to have given them a pass to go into the yard’s prime watering hole without being on a man’s arm, or being forced to have their drinks in the snug. There seemed to be an unspoken code amongst the workers that if you did the same work as a man – and dressed like a man – then you could drink like a man.
‘Okay – a toast!’ Hannah announced when they all had their glasses of stout, gin and tonic, or port in their hands.
‘A toast,’ the women all chimed.
‘Happy birthday, Dorothy,’ Polly said. She tried her hardest to sound upbeat despite the terrible low she had slowly sunk into following Tommy’s evident change of heart.
Hannah looked at Martha and then they both said, in perfect unison, ‘Št’astné narozeniny.’
All the women stared at Martha for the second time that day and burst out laughing. ‘Staaastneee narozenineee!’ they tried to repeat.
Dorothy was beside herself with excitement. ‘This is the best birthday ever,’ she declared, taking a dainty sip of her gin and tonic and feeling extremely grown-up and sophisticated.
Revelling in the warmth and their impromptu get-together, the women chatted about past birthdays, work and any titbits of gossip they had heard on the yard’s grapevine. The pub started to fill up as more and more workers came in from the cold.
Polly and Hannah went to the bar to get another round in, but as they were both squeezing their way back to their corner table they stopped in their tracks. ‘Oh my,’ Hannah said to Polly. ‘It’s Eddie.’
Polly had also seen him, shouting out greetings to his mates, playing the big man. But it was the fact that he had his arm around a very pretty blonde woman which was causing Hannah and Polly so much consternation.
‘Oh dear,’ she said, dismayed.
As they approached their table they looked at Dorothy, laughing and in such high spirits. But as they put the drinks down on the table Polly saw the change in Dorothy’s demeanour. Her laughter seemed to stop dead in its tracks as she spotted Eddie and the woman he was now introducing to his friends. All the women welders followed Dorothy’s stare and fell silent.
Unaware of the six pairs of eyes glaring at him, Eddie continued to hold court at his table of fellow riveters.
The women turned back to look at Dorothy, who seemed totally stunned at the tableau unfolding in front of her.
‘It’s one of the new women,’ she mumbled.
Gloria felt her own heart sink and a twinge of guilt as she wondered if perhaps she should have told Dorothy about what she had seen the other week. But, then again, it wasn’t a crime to chat to another woman at work, and if she’d told Dorothy she might well not have believed her, or thought she was trying to cause trouble. Either way, it looked as if Dorothy was going to have to deal with the inevitable hurt and heartache of becoming attached to such a no-good waster.
‘It’s the crane operator. Angie, I think her name is,’ Dorothy added, unable to take her eyes off Eddie, who was now giving the pretty young Angie a very public kiss and show of affection. The two certainly couldn’t be misconstrued as merely friends.
The five other women watched Dorothy and waited with bated breath.
A myriad of thoughts gushed through Dorothy’s head as she realised that all those suspicions she’d kept pushing aside these past few weeks had been right. She had been used. It was now plain as day: Eddie had used her for a bit of fun, but worse still, he had also used her financially, draining her of the little money she had. Money she had worked damned hard for. She had been his free ticket to a good time and copious amounts of complimentary beer.
Dorothy rose slowly from her seat and the other women watched as she purposefully walked over to the bar. None of them said anything as she bought a pint of beer and steered her way round a few men who were standing with their drinks in their hands, chatting happily. Eddie was unaware of Dorothy as she approached the gaggle of riveters all smoking and gobbing off loudly.
She stood looking down at them all, shoulder to shoulder, crushed around the small pub table. The men gradually fell silent as they became aware of Dorothy’s looming figure. Angie innocently smiled up at Dorothy with a slightly puzzled expression on her face. Eddie turned and looked up to see who, or what, had captured everyone’s attention.
‘Hello, Eddie.’ Dorothy seethed fury, and as she held out the glass of beer she said, ‘This one’s for free, like all the others you’ve had out of me,’ then poured the pint of frothy pale brown liquid on to her former lover’s head.
Eddie automatically jumped up out of his seat, shocked by the feel of the cold ale shower he’d just been given, and by the unexpected actions of his jilted girlfriend. The gang of riveters he’d been sitting with burst into braying laughter. Eddie was gasping for air and shaking his arms out in a vain attempt to get rid of the rivulets of beer trickling down his body.
With great show, Dorothy carefully placed the empty pint glass on the round wooden table and turned to Eddie’s latest conquest. ‘And if I were you,’ she said, ‘I’d keep my legs and purse shut with this one. Trust me. No good will come of it.’
Dorothy turned on her heel and walked back to her workmates, who were all agog at their friend’s behaviour.
As Dorothy pulled out her stool and picked up her gin and tonic, Gloria was the first to find her tongue. ‘Good girl,’ she said. ‘He’s had that coming for a while.’
‘Blimey, Dorothy. Well done,’ Polly said, totally taken aback by her dramatic performance.
They all agreed and raised their glasses.
No one had to say anything else, but Dorothy realised then that they’d all had Eddie sussed from the start. She just wished she’d seen it before now, or admitted it to herself sooner. Deep down she had always known there was something up with Eddie. Something had pricked her antennae even when he’d started to make a play for her, when she’d been working at Binns and he’d been seeing one of the other sales assistants there. But she had chosen to ignore it. She had been thrilled by his attention and compliments, and ignored the fact that he was courting someone else, a woman she knew and liked. Dorothy understood now that the truth had been staring her in the face all along, but it was as if she hadn’t been able to stop herself. As if she had seen the fire and walked straight into it. If only she had listened to her inner voice, she might have saved herself this heartache. This humiliation.
‘Another toast,’ Hannah said.
‘Another toast,’ they all agreed, clinking their glasses.
‘And to think he was the only reason I got this job at the yard,’ Dorothy half laughed, half cried. ‘I left a perfectly good job at Binns – an easy, clean and warm job – for this. I think I need my head examining.’
The women turned to Dorothy in shock. Had she really just got this job to be near a man she liked?
Much as it pained Dorothy to admit it, it was true: she had in fact followed Eddie like a lost puppy to Thompson’s and signed up for a job she would never normally have even considered doing. Common sense had been overridden by her desire, her obsession, her need for love at any cost. In a moment of clarity she realised she had been so desperate for love, any kind of love and attention, she had resorted to giving herself over to someone like Eddie, who wasn’t worth a light. Dorothy’s big blue eyes filled with tears.
‘Well, yer know what they say,’ Gloria tried to reassure her, ‘every cloud has a silver lining and all that.’
‘And that silver lining would be?’ Dorothy asked, a big tear now running freely down her face.
‘Us, yer daft bugger. Your mates,’ Gloria said.
Martha reached over the table and slapped a big hand on top of Dorothy’s, giving her a wide grin which spread across the width of her round face.
‘Yes,’ Hannah added. ‘I know another English expression: more fish in sea?’ she asked, uncertain whether she had made any sense.
‘Yes, Hannah, more fish in the sea,’ Rosie told her, before looking at Dorothy and saying quietly, ‘You might be hopeless at catching a decent fella, Dorothy, but you’re a natural when it comes to welding.’
Dorothy’s face immediately brightened up. ‘Do you think so?’ she mumbled through her tears.
‘And what’s more, you’re fast,’ Rosie said. ‘That idiot Eddie’s done you a favour. You’re helping the war effort – and you’ve now got yourself a trade for life.’
Everyone looked at Rosie. None of them had heard her speak so personally before – and to Dorothy, of all people.
This birthday celebration was really turning into so much more than they had all anticipated. Not only had they heard Martha speak a foreign language, and witnessed Dorothy wreak wonderful revenge on her two-timing beau, but they had also, for the first time, felt that Rosie had become a part of their little group.
As the women left the warmth of the Admiral and faced the wind and rain, Polly heard the familiar growl of a motorbike starting up before it took off up the road. It was Tommy. He must have seen the women leave the pub, must have known Polly was part of the group, yet he hadn’t stopped to chat to her.
What was wrong? Why had he changed towards her? Polly wanted desperately to speak with him and ask him what the matter was. Had he gone off her? Found someone else? Someone called Helen Crawford?
As the women made their way up the embankment to get the bus into town, Polly tried unsuccessfully to push away her feelings of hurt and anger. Was she too going to have to go through this torment – the same demeaning and very public rejection Dorothy had just suffered this evening?