Freda and Maisie settled down in their seats as the train left Erith station and headed towards Woolwich.
‘When did you last see your mum?’ Freda asked as she picked up a newspaper left on the seat beside her.
‘It’s been quite a while,’ Maisie replied, wiping the window with her glove. She swore out loud as she spotted the grime it had left and attempted to rub away the mark. ‘It was before I married my Joe.’ She didn’t wish to say any more, fearing her young friend would be startled by what her past life had been like. She’d never told her friend all of what happened before she knew them. Coming to Erith had been the start of a new life, even if she did lose her first husband soon after at the hands of the Germans. ‘Let’s just say I think it’s about time I put the past behind me and got to know them again. There’s also my brother, Fred. I’d like to see him. Why, he could have a family of his own by now and Ruby could have cousins. Little Ruby needs to know all her family. If meeting Sarah and her family has taught me anything, it’s that we need our family around us.’
‘We are very lucky indeed,’ Freda agreed. ‘Do you have any other family?’
Maisie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Quite a few aunts and uncles; Mum and Dad both come from large families. Not that I’ve seen any of them. They’re scattered all over the place,’ she added quickly. ‘How about you? Do you plan to see your mum again any day soon?’
Freda shook her head sadly. ‘My brother Lenny reckons he’ll head up to Birmingham and see Mum next time he’s on leave but God knows when that’ll be. His ship always seems to be on the other side of the world.’
‘Wouldn’t you like to see her again?’
Freda stared out of the window, not taking in the scenery as she was consumed by thoughts of her past life before she headed to Erith and her new life.
Freda remained silent, leading Maisie to ask, ‘Was it that bad?’
Freda nodded, unable to speak, and was thankful when the train pulled into Abbey Wood station and a group of women entered the carriage. Deep down she ached to see her mum but with that bully of a second husband around she dared not return home. All she could think about was a time when her dad was still alive – yes, they had been poor but they had also been happy.
Both Freda and Maisie remained deep in thought as they continued their journey. Eventually the train arrived at their destination, Woolwich Arsenal.
‘We’d best be lively or the train will set off before we’re on the platform,’ Maisie urged as she picked up her bag and gloves from the seat next to her and reached for her jacket that had been laid carefully on the parcel rack above their heads. ‘I was miles away there. If we don’t get off here, we’ll have to stay on the train until we get to Charing Cross and then get the underground train back to the East End.’
Freda shuddered as she grabbed her things and followed Maisie onto the platform, assisted by a man waiting to take her seat. She nodded her thanks before hurrying to catch up with her friend who was already striding off down the platform. ‘Thank goodness we did get off. I can’t think of anything worse than being on the underground. What if something happened?’
‘Like what?’ Maisie grinned as she reached into her handbag for her ticket. ‘You are a funny thing. Are you sure you’ll be okay walking through the foot tunnel under the Thames?’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Freda said, looking glum.
Maisie slowed down and looked at her young friend. ‘You do look a bit green about the gills. I tell you what, let’s hurry through and then look for a cafe on the other side and have a cuppa? I’ll treat you to a fried egg sandwich as well.’
Freda grinned. ‘You’re on,’ she declared as the two women headed to the entrance of the foot tunnel at a brisk pace, overtaking people in front of them. Freda knew there was as much chance of enjoying a fried egg sandwich as there was of finding hens’ teeth but she knew Maisie meant well and a cup of tea would go down very well indeed.
‘Betty, you look exhausted,’ Sarah said as she entered the Woolworths manager’s small office. ‘Do you think you’re going down with something?’
Betty gave a wan smile as she looked up at Sarah. ‘I do hope not. I seem to have lost all my energy of late. Goodness knows what’s come over me,’ she said wearily, indicating to Sarah to take a seat on the other side of her desk. ‘Between you and me, I’m finding it hard to keep up with work and my home life.’
Sarah checked the door to the office was firmly shut and sat down opposite her boss and good friend. ‘I’ve been thinking I could take on some extra hours now that Alan is away on duty. In fact, that’s what I popped in to discuss with you,’ she offered.
Betty reached for the staff rota she’d been marking up and looked at the days where she was short of sales and warehouse staff. ‘I could certainly do with the help but can you spare the time?’
Sarah nodded her head enthusiastically. ‘I’ve had a word with Nan and she said she could have Georgina for a few extra hours, and with Mum living nearby, she’s always saying she doesn’t see enough of her granddaughter. I thought I’d bite the bullet and ask if she’d like to help out one day a week,’ she grinned.
Betty looked slightly shocked. ‘I’m pleased you’re closer to your mum these days, Sarah, but I’m surprised you’ve reached the point of asking her to care for Georgina. I know myself how tiring a child can be and my stepdaughters are much older than your little poppet.’
‘I’ve got my reasons for wanting to work more hours and if that means Mum having Georgie more often, then so be it,’ Sarah said, lifting her chin defiantly.
Betty reached across the desk and patted Sarah’s hand. ‘Good for you. I do like to see a woman play a part in their marriage that goes beyond caring for a child. Now tell me, what are you up to?’
Sarah grinned. ‘I’ve been thinking of when the war ends and how our lives will be. Alan and I would really like to have more children and we can’t expect his mum to keep putting us up. She only has that two-up, two-down in Crayford Road and it isn’t for us to take over her home with little ones.’
Betty agreed. She knew Maureen Gilbert well and how much she loved her son and his family dearly, but would they be as happy if they were crammed together under one tiny roof? ‘Maureen has been good to you,’ she said, nodding to Sarah to continue. ‘So, what’s your plan?’
‘I thought that if I could put a little away each week, then by the time the war ended we would be in a position to rent our own house and Alan would be able to start back at Woolworths without worrying about money,’ she said with a smile.
Betty thought for a moment. ‘Sarah, do you honestly believe that Alan will be happy to return to Woolworths and perhaps one day manage his own store? He has seen a world outside of this small town, and that can change a person. I also wonder how a man would feel knowing it was his wife’s wages that had paid for their home? The war has changed things a lot but even so, a man is head of the household and as such should have the say in what happens in his family.’
‘I’d thought of that,’ Sarah said. ‘Alan is a proud man and would hate to think I was the one who had paid the deposit to rent a new home or a few sticks of furniture. So, instead I shall say that I’ve been careful with the money he sends home to me.’
‘That’s an excellent idea,’ Betty said. ‘Let’s just hope that this war is over soon and Alan is home with you for good.’
‘Nan says it will be over by Christmas but she’s been saying that since 1939 and it hasn’t ended yet,’ Sarah laughed.
Betty joined in with the laughter, thinking that as much as her dear friend hoped that life would go back to the way it had been before the start of war, she knew that wouldn’t be the case. Men had tasted life away from their homes and women had become free of the restraints of the kitchen. Life was certain to be different.
‘I wonder if Gwyneth would be interested in working a few more hours, what with planning for her wedding?’ Sarah suggested. ‘It would fill in a few gaps in your rota if she agreed.’
‘I’ll pop down to the shop floor and catch her for a word now,’ Betty said, getting to her feet and reaching to a shelf behind her desk. ‘If you could check these stock sheets for me in case I’ve added up a column incorrectly, it would be a weight off my shoulders. Oh my . . .’ she added, putting a hand to her forehead before slumping back into her chair.
‘Betty, whatever is wrong?’ Sarah said in distress as she rushed to her friend’s side and placed her hand on Betty’s shoulder.
‘I came over faint for a moment,’ Betty said. ‘I’m fine now.’
‘No you’re not,’ Sarah said, noting how pale Betty looked. ‘Why, you’re as white as a ghost and you’re trembling all over. You really ought to see a doctor.’
Betty smiled and took Sarah’s hand, giving it a squeeze. ‘I do believe I know what he’ll say,’ she added with a whisper, a pink spot appearing on her cheeks showing her embarrassment. ‘I do believe Douglas and I are expecting a little visitor.’
Sarah frowned. Whatever did Betty mean? Then she too went a little pink as she realized what she was being told.
‘Oh my! Why, that’s wonderful news, Betty. I’m thrilled for you. What does Douglas say?’
‘I’ve not told him yet. I do have an appointment to see my doctor later today and thought it best not to say anything until I know for sure. You know what men are like and Douglas is such a dear he’s bound to make a fuss.’
‘Would you like me to accompany you?’ Sarah said at once. Betty’s shock news had made her think about the Woolworths manager having a child. Wasn’t she too old? She’d never given Betty’s age a thought until now.
‘I’d be so grateful if you would. I’d been a little afraid you would laugh at my news, what with me being so much older than you,’ Betty said shyly.
‘I’d not given it a thought,’ Sarah answered at once, hoping that her face had not shown otherwise. ‘Now, let me get you a cup of tea and you’re to take things easy until we go to see your doctor.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving baby Ruby with you while I pop down to see Vera?’ Ruby asked Bob as he stood at the kitchen sink wearing one of Ruby’s aprons while he washed up the plates from their dinner. It wasn’t as much to keep him dry as to cover his dirty gardening clothes.
‘Off you go, the baby’s as right as rain with me. Don’t forget I helped out when I had one of me own,’ he told her with a grin.
‘Who is now a strapping police sergeant about to be married and with a ready-made family. You might be a bit out of practice,’ she laughed.
‘Be off with you, woman. If she wakes and starts to cry, I’ll push the pram down to you if I can’t cope. How’s that?’
‘You do that, Bob,’ Ruby grinned, wondering how long it would be before he came hurrying up to Vera’s house with a wailing baby. There again, she’d just been fed so would be out for the count for a good while. Ruby wasn’t one for giving a kiddie National Dried Milk but little Ruby seemed to be thriving on it. She collected the vegetables she’d set aside from what she’d brought home from their allotment along with a dish of what Freda called ‘lucky pie’ – you’d be lucky if you found a lump of meat in it – and headed out the front door.
Vera’s house was further up Alexandra Road and a mirror image to Ruby’s home. However, the similarity ended there, as anyone walking into Ruby’s house would be faced with a warm welcome and a cosy home whereas Vera’s was full of knick-knacks and had a cold atmosphere. She knocked on the door, wondering with a sinking heart what tales of woe Vera would relate to her today.
‘Hello, Ruby, come on in. Excuse the mess. I’ve not been up to doing much housework lately,’ Vera said as she led the way through to the living room.
Ruby was surprised as usually all guests were shown into the bay-windowed front room where Vera could show off her latest ornament or photograph of her granddaughter. Vera seldom took her through to the back of the house and Ruby was shocked by the general air of neglect to her friend’s house. The gloom of the room was not helped by the part-closed curtains which blocked out what there was of the early March light.
‘I’ll let some light in, shall I?’ Ruby said, putting the veg and pie down on a cluttered table and heading to the single window. Pulling back the green cotton fabric, she was even more surprised to see that the nets needed a wash and the window a good going-over with vinegar and newspaper. Vera wasn’t one to let standards drop. Something must be amiss.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked her friend, who had sat down at the table without offering Ruby a seat. ‘I’ve not seen much of you lately so thought I’d pay a visit. There’s some pie here and Bob brought back more veg than I can use and I thought you’d be grateful.’
‘I am, Ruby,’ Vera said as she took the clean tea towel off the pie tin to look at the contents. She licked her lips.
Ruby was puzzled. Usually Vera would criticize the food before taking it anyway. She wasn’t one to accept anything gratefully. Something didn’t add up here. ‘Shall I put the kettle on and stick this in the oven to warm?’ Ruby asked, starting to slide the enamel dish away from Vera.
‘No, I’ll eat it as it is,’ Vera said, pulling the dish close and breaking off a piece of the potato crust.
‘Then I’ll stick the kettle on and make us a cuppa. Perhaps you’d like a fork?’ she called over her shoulder.
What met Ruby in the small kitchen made her want to weep. She placed the filled kettle on the gas stove but try as she might, there was no getting a light underneath. ‘What’s up with your gas?’ she called out as she turned to open the cupboard where Vera kept the tea caddy. Not only was the caddy empty but there wasn’t a crumb of food to be seen. Becoming more puzzled by the minute, Ruby checked the stone pantry, thinking there would at least be some milk or perhaps a slice or two of bacon or cheese in the meat safe. Again, there wasn’t any food to be found. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked, marching back into the living room to see Vera licking the empty dish clean.
Vera looked up at Ruby and slowly her face crumpled. She put her head in her hands as muffled words came tumbling out. ‘I don’t have a penny to my name. If there were still poorhouses, I’d be living in one right now. I’m destitute, Ruby, and I don’t know what to do.’
‘Well, I’ll be buggered,’ Ruby said as she pulled a chair from the table and sat opposite the trembling woman. ‘What happened to the bit of pension you got from your Don’s firm when he died?’
‘The dairy got bombed out six months back and there’s no money for the likes of me. It wasn’t much but it put food on the table,’ Vera said, looking at the empty dish. ‘It was good of you to bring that down for me. I’ve not eaten properly for over a week now as I’ve not had a coin to put into the meter, not that I have anything to put on the hob.’
Ruby couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was this really happening in the street where she lived and to someone she considered to be a friend, however irritating Vera could be at times? Had she missed something? Perhaps Vera had tried to tell her and she’d been so caught up in her own life that it had washed past her?
‘I haven’t told anybody, I’m that ashamed that I couldn’t manage on my own.’ Vera started to cry, wiping her face on a grubby apron. ‘I’ve not even been able to heat a drop of water to wash my clothes.’
Ruby left her seat and held her friend while she cried. ‘Well, you’ve told me now and a trouble shared is a trouble halved, as my Eddie used to say. We can sort this out so don’t you go fretting yourself. First, you’re going to come home with me. I’ll get the tin bath in and you can have a nice soak while I make us a cuppa. Then you’re going to tell me everything.’
Vera nodded. ‘That’s good of you, Ruby, but I don’t want anyone else knowing my problems.’
‘Don’t you worry. There’ll be no one home to bother us. Gwyneth’s at work and Freda’s gone out with Maisie for the day. Once we get back to number thirteen I’ll relieve Bob of baby Ruby and we’ll have the house to ourselves.’
‘You’ll not say anything about my . . . about my problem, will you?’
‘I hardly know what your problem is yet so don’t you worry. Now, get yourself a clean set of clothes and your dressing gown and we’ll get cracking. In fact, you can stay the night with me. It’s blooming chilly in here and I’ll not rest in my bed knowing you’re catching your death up the other end of the road.’
‘It was the coalman. He wouldn’t give me any more tick. I burnt a few bits of wood from the garden but they soon ran out . . .’ Vera muttered as she headed to the foot of the stairs before stopping. ‘Thank you, Ruby,’ she added, then turned and hurried up the stairs.
It was then that Ruby knew Vera really had problems, as she’d never said thank you before and hadn’t asked what Maisie and Freda were up to.
Whatever next? she thought to herself.
‘Blimey, I didn’t expect to have that put in front of me,’ Freda said as she wiped her mouth with her handkerchief. ‘A full fry-up! Even Ruby hasn’t managed that in the past few years. Wherever did he get the bacon, let alone proper eggs?’
Maisie, who had just finished a sausage sandwich and was busy lighting a cigarette, grinned at her friend. ‘You’re in the middle of the docklands now, Freda. People can get hold of almost anything down here. That’s if you know the right people.’ She winked as she tapped the side of her nose.
The girls had hurried down the hundred steps and through the pedestrian foot tunnel under the Thames as fast as they could, what with Freda being a little worried that the river would burst through and drown them both. Even though Maisie had laughed at her friend’s fear, she couldn’t help but jump as droplets of water ran down the tiled walls and both had breathed a sigh of relief when they’d stepped out into the grey morning daylight of north Woolwich, slightly breathless from the climb up the circular staircase. Maisie had steered Freda along a short footpath that brought them to the busy Thames where they’d found the rather shabby-looking cafe.
‘Have you got any idea how we get to Canning Town from here?’ Freda asked.
‘Leave it with me. I’ll ask the chap behind the counter when I pay him,’ Maisie said, stubbing out her cigarette and picking up the scrap of paper that had been left on the table when he brought out their food.
‘Please, let me pay something. I swear I ate twice as much as you,’ Freda said, reaching for her handbag.
‘No, this is on me. You’d not be ’ere if it wasn’t for me and my hare-brained scheme, as David calls it. Finish your tea and I’ll see you outside.’
Freda gulped down the remains of the strong brew and went outside. She’d love to have stood and watched the ships being loaded and the cranes at work. No wonder Hitler was intent on bombing the docks so often, what with so much going on there. She shivered as she pulled on her woollen mittens and tightened the matching scarf around her neck. She could feel the start of a chilly drizzle and hoped the rain didn’t come down with any force.
‘Ready?’ Maisie asked as she joined her. ‘We’ve only got to walk up to the road and there’ll be a bus stop where we can get one of two buses that’ll take us within walking distance of Woolies. We’ll be there within half an hour.’ Maisie put up her umbrella and the two girls linked arms and hurried to the bus stop.
‘It’s so good of you to accompany me,’ Betty said as she sat beside Sarah in the busy waiting room.
‘Don’t be daft. What’s a friend for if not to lend a hand when a friend is in need?’ Sarah said, giving a small giggle. ‘I sound like Freda with her Brownie pack.’
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Betty said with a nervous smile. ‘This is not something I expected to be seeing a doctor about at my time of life. I feel like a fraud.’
‘Don’t be daft, Betty. You should be excited to welcome a baby into the world at . . .’
‘At my time of life?’
‘I didn’t mean . . .’ Sarah stumbled over her words.
‘Sarah, my dear, I’ve been thinking the same as you. Why me and why now?’
‘Could it be because you’re now married?’ Sarah giggled, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.
‘That could well be the answer,’ Betty agreed, joining in with Sarah’s mirth. ‘However, I’m not sure what my stepdaughters will think of this. Clemmie has been more than a little hard to live with these days.’
‘It must be difficult for the girls to accept another woman as their mother.’
‘I sat them down and had a chat about the part I would play in their lives. I made it quite clear that I would not be replacing their mother and I would help them keep her memory alive. I’ve placed Clementine’s portrait on the wall in their bedroom and they’ve both shared out her jewellery and personal items. On her birthday and the anniversary of her death I encourage Douglas to take the girls to visit her grave and to have some time together. I don’t see what more I can do.’
Sarah was saved from commenting on Betty’s predicament as at that moment her friend’s name was called out and she headed to an oak door at the side of the waiting room to see her doctor.
Sarah watched Betty disappear from view and hoped with all her heart that her friend would have good news. How they would cope with Betty giving up work if she was expecting was another question. What if head office sent some horrid person to take charge of the Erith store? She may just decide to stop working if that was the case and devote herself to her daughter and home. She’d still be able to do her war work until she and Alan were blessed with an addition to their happy little family.
It didn’t seem like five minutes since she’d been sitting in another doctor’s surgery waiting for Maisie to emerge with her good news that a baby was on the way. She could still see her face now. How they’d celebrated, and look at her now: the proud mother of baby Ruby Freda Carlisle. There’s nothing more special than news of another life coming into the world and even Hitler and this bloody war couldn’t stop that joy. She dug into her shopping bag and pulled out her knitting as she smiled to herself. Hadn’t she done exactly the same while waiting for Maisie when she was in seeing her doctor? Sarah sat contentedly knitting what would be a navy blue cardigan for Georgina. She had some scraps of wool in her sewing box and thought about embroidering a few daisies down the front to brighten it up. She could do another for Gwyneth’s daughter, Myfi. The two girls were close friends, even though there was five years between their ages.
She was deep in thought as her needles click-clacked away and the arm she was knitting had grown several inches when the door to the doctor’s room opened and an ashen-faced Betty appeared. She quietly thanked the doctor and headed towards the door to the street. Sarah leapt to her feet, stuffing her knitting into her bag, not caring if stitches slipped from the needles, and hurried after her friend. This didn’t look like good news.