Chapter Thirty-One

When it was announced that this year all the shipyard workers in the town were to have Christmas Day and Boxing Day off as paid holiday, everyone was jubilant.

Angie was particularly cock-a-hoop as Quentin had just told her that he’d been allowed a forty-eight-hour pass over Christmas.

When Georgina informed Dorothy that she had persuaded her editor at the Echo to allow her to officially cover the extravaganza for the Boxing Day edition, with the expectation that it would make the front page, Dorothy became even more determined to make the event ‘spectacular’. Georgina was pleased, as not only would she get her first front page with a byline, but she had been promised extra film and flashes, which were akin to gold dust in these times of rationing.

Sitting at their table in the canteen, Dorothy demanded updates from the women, even though mostly everything was in hand.

Polly relayed how the knitting of scarves, jumpers, gloves and hats was going, and how it now seemed that anyone Agnes and Beryl knew who could do a basic knit and purl had been roped into making winter woollies; if they couldn’t knit, they had been tasked with finding old clothes and unpicking the wool to add to their dwindling supplies.

‘And they’re still managing to combine it with running the nursery?’ Rosie asked.

Polly nodded. ‘I think combine is the right word. They’ve even got some of the older children learning how to knit.’

Everyone chuckled.

‘And Joe and Major Black?’ Dorothy asked, looking down at her neatly penned agenda.

‘Yes, they’ve come up with a list of practical presents the men would appreciate and which will come in handy when they’re eventually discharged,’ Polly said, handing over a piece of paper with what looked like a shopping list on it.

‘Thank you.’ Dorothy took the list and quickly scanned it before handing it to Angie.

‘Oh, and Albert’s said he’ll give any produce from his allotment to Vera and Rina to use for the catering,’ Polly added, taking a sip of her tea.

‘Excellent,’ Dorothy smiled. ‘That means lots of leek, onion and potato pies – and carrot cake!’

‘And Kate told me to tell you,’ Rosie said, ‘that she has roped Lily, George, Maisie and Vivian into helping her to “beg, borrow or buy” a load of Christmas decorations. She also told me to tell you the look she is aiming for is “Winter Wonderland”.’

Dorothy clapped her hands in glee. ‘Sounds amazing!’

‘Vera and Rina are stockpiling ingredients,’ Hannah reported.

‘And Vera is apparently doing a great job of guilting customers into dropping any spare change they’ve got into the collection tin,’ said Olly.

‘Which is no longer a tin but a large clear glass jar,’ Hannah said. ‘So that customers can see there’re notes in there as well as coins.’

‘Typical Vera. She’s a wily one,’ Gloria chuckled.

‘So, how much has been raised this week?’ Dorothy asked when they’d all had their lunch and tidied away their trays.

Hannah got out her little notebook and handed it to Olly, who proceeded to tell them the amount collected by all the shops and cafés in town that had been willing to have a donation box on their counters – of which there had been quite a number.

‘So, Rosie – is Charlotte still up for spending Saturday in town getting all the extra bits and bobs we need?’

Rosie nodded. ‘She is. And naturally, she will be helped by Lily.’ They all chuckled, knowing how much Lily and Charlotte adored each other.

‘And will Peter be back for Christmas?’

‘Definitely,’ Rosie said with a smile. ‘He wouldn’t miss this for anything and has volunteered his services, so if you need him to do anything, just say.’

‘Actually,’ Dorothy looked at Angie, ‘we wondered if Peter could act as interpreter for the French soldiers who can’t speak English.’

‘Of course,’ Rosie said. ‘He’d be over the moon. It’ll probably make his Christmas Day.’

‘I don’t suppose he can speak any other languages?’ Dorothy asked tentatively.

The mood sobered. Helen had relayed to the women that there was a possibility there would be soldiers from ‘the other side’ being cared for at the hospital over Christmas. Dr Parker knew of at least two from the Wehrmacht.

‘No, I’m afraid not,’ Rosie said.

The women all glanced at Hannah. They knew she spoke German. Most Czechs, she had told them, did.

‘Oh, never mind,’ Dorothy said, looking down at her list. ‘Well, what else do I need to ask—’

‘Actually,’ Hannah interrupted. ‘That’s something I can do.’

Everyone was quiet.

‘I’d like to volunteer my linguistic services along with Peter. I speak fluent German.’

‘And she can speak a little Polish,’ Olly added, proudly.

‘Only a very little,’ Hannah conceded. She smiled. ‘I know how to say Merry Christmas and things like that, at least.’

‘Well, that will be wonderful,’ Rosie said. ‘Just to hear someone speak their native tongue will be a Christmas present in itself, I’d have thought.’

The women all murmured their agreement.

They were quiet for a moment.

‘But how will you feel about speaking German – to an actual German?’ Martha asked what they had all been thinking.

Everyone stared at Hannah.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she reassured them.

‘Well, I think that’s wonderful,’ Polly said. ‘Come here.’

She put her arms around Hannah, who felt so small and frail but was, she knew, so strong. So strong and so kind-hearted. And the most gentle and compassionate person she had ever known.