Christmas with the Shipyard Girls Page 11

  ‘Would you like me to make something out of it for you?’ Kate asked.

  ‘No, no, definitely not,’ Helen said. As much as she was thankful that everyone had survived the Tatham Street bombing, she didn’t want to be reminded of it.

  ‘Thank you,’ Kate said, putting it on a hanger and placing it on her rack of second-hand clothes. She knew why the dress was no longer wanted but would never say so. She also knew not to offer Helen any money for the dress. People of Helen’s standing would take it as an insult. They would, however, expect priority service in return.

  Kate looked at the dress.

  ‘I have an idea what I might do with it.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me.’ Helen smiled and turned to leave. ‘I’ll be in next week to chat to you about a rather special outfit I’d like made for about a week or so before Christmas.’

  ‘For a party?’ Kate asked.

  ‘No, for a launch,’ Helen said, feeling a swell of excitement that Brutus was well ahead of schedule. ‘It’s a particularly special launch, so I want something to reflect that.’

  She thought for a moment.

  ‘I want something stunning, but also professional. It has to say, this is a woman who expects to be taken seriously.’

  Kate smiled as Helen opened the door.

  She loved a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

  Kate was just having a closer look at the red dress when the bell above the door tinkled again.

  This time she did jump.

  On seeing who it was, though, she immediately relaxed.

  ‘Charlie! How lovely to see you!’ Kate hurried over and gave her a hug.

  ‘I got finished early today,’ Charlotte said. ‘Rosie’s doing a full shift, so I thought I’d come and see you, if that’s all right? I won’t stay long.’

  ‘Of course it’s all right. You’re always welcome here, Charlie. You’re part of the family.’

  It gave Charlotte an immediate feeling of warmth to hear Kate’s words. It was the second time she had been told this.

  ‘I’ve just seen Miss Crawford leave here,’ she said. ‘She’s my boss, you know? She’s a right cow.’

  Kate managed to keep a straight face. Rosie had told her of her plan.

  ‘So, how’s work gone this week?’ she asked instead, walking to the back room.

  ‘Loved it!’ Charlotte said.

  Again, Kate suppressed a smile. Rosie had clearly not succeeded.

  ‘Tea?’ Kate looked at Charlotte and saw she had been distracted by Lily’s wedding dress, which was taking shape on a mannequin in the centre of the shop.

  Charlotte nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Do you like it?’ Kate asked, standing at the entrance to the back room, watching Charlotte’s reaction.

  ‘It’s amazing,’ Charlotte said. ‘It’s like something you’d see on a film – or on stage.’ She continued inspecting the flamboyant plush green velvet dress. ‘What’s the occasion?’ she asked.

  ‘A wedding,’ Kate said.

  ‘Really? It seems a little over the top for a wedding?’

  ‘Not when it’s for the bride,’ Kate said.

  ‘What? This is the actual wedding dress?’ Charlotte asked. She looked at Kate, eyes agog.

  ‘It certainly is,’ Kate said, going into the snug to put the kettle on.

  ‘How do you feel about going back to school on Monday?’ she shouted through.

  ‘I’m not going!’ Charlotte’s voice was resolute. ‘Rosie can’t make me.’

  Kate didn’t say anything. She thought that perhaps Rosie could – and would.

  Charlotte was still inspecting the dress when the bell rang out for a third time and the front door was flung open with gusto.

  ‘Oh, mon Dieu!’

  Lily had stopped in her tracks on seeing a young girl who, from the description Kate had given her, she was sure was Rosie’s sister.

  ‘Est-ce Charlotte?’

  Charlotte stared at the apparition standing in the open doorway and nodded. Never before had she seen such a woman. Titian hair piled high. A heaving cleavage on the verge of escape. A luxurious fur stole draped around her neck and shoulders. And a packet of Gauloises gripped in a manicured hand that was weighted down by the biggest diamond engagement ring Charlotte had ever seen.

  ‘Mon cher enfant!’ Lily gushed.

  ‘Bonjour, madame,’ Charlotte said, perplexed. ‘Mais j’ai peur je ne vous connais pas.’ She explained that she was afraid she didn’t know her.

  ‘Ma chérie, je suis Lily!’ And with that she took hold of Charlotte’s shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks before enfolding her in her arms and giving her a big hug.

  Charlotte was taken aback, as well as engulfed in the most gorgeous perfume.

  ‘Ah, Lily,’ she said.

  Why had Rosie or Kate not mentioned what a colourful character Lily was?

  Or that she was French?

  ‘Je suis vraiment désolée, Rosie et Kate n’ont pas mentionné que vous êtes française.’

  ‘Oh, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ Lily declared, her hand going dramatically to her heart, as though to check that this was not actually the case. ‘Non, ma chère, I’m English, although I did live in Paris for a while, before all this awfulness.

  ‘So,’ Lily looked over to Kate with a look of pure glee in her eyes, ‘this is Charlotte!’

  She looked back at Charlotte, scrutinising her from head to toe.

  ‘Finally,’ she breathed in dramatically, ‘finally I get to meet you!’

  Charlotte was now feeling a little overwhelmed and more than a little puzzled. She had only heard about Lily last week, when she had been here with Rosie and Kate after her first day at work.

  ‘Come on through the back, Lily. I was just making a pot of tea,’ Kate said. Her tone was not the most welcoming.

  Lily flung off her fur stole and put it on Kate’s workbench.

  ‘Is it me or is it hot in here?’ She fanned her face, which had suddenly flushed. ‘I saw you admiring my wedding dress,’ she said. ‘Kate’s doing a formidable job, n’est-ce pas?’

  Charlotte nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘Allons-y. Allons-y!’ She ushered Charlotte into the back room. ‘Let’s have a nice cuppa and you can tell me all about yourself.’

  ‘So,’ Lily said, lighting up a cigarette and blowing smoke to the ceiling. ‘Tell me about your week back in your home town. Have you enjoyed it?’

  Charlotte nodded.

  ‘It’s been brilliant. I’ve been working at Thompson’s, doing all types of different jobs. The yard manager’s a bit of a slave-driver, but I’ve been in the kitchens the past few days and that’s been a right laugh.’ She hadn’t, of course, told Rosie just how much fun she’d had with Muriel and the rest of the women who worked there.

  ‘And I’ve also met some really nice people,’ Charlotte added.

  ‘Oh yes, and who would they be?’ Lily asked. Rosie had been very tight-lipped about Charlotte after they’d had their ‘words’.

  ‘I’ve met all her squad. And they seem really nice. Especially Dorothy. And Hannah.’ Charlotte was still a little scared of Angie, but would never admit it.

  ‘Hannah’s from Prague. She was working as a welder, but it was too much for her so Rosie got her a job in the drawing office. We had lunch together the other day, just the two of us, and we sat for a whole hour and talked about Cicero. He’s Hannah’s favourite philosopher.’

  ‘Really?’

  Lily, of course, had no idea who Cicero was, not that it mattered – what was clear was that Charlotte was obviously loving being back home.

  ‘Oh, I forgot, I also went to Rosie’s old flat and met Gloria and Hope. And I’ve been to Tatham Street and met everyone there.’

  ‘Well then,’ Lily said, looking across at Kate, ‘as my humble abode is the only place you haven’t been to, you’ll have to come and have tea chez moi and meet my fiancé, George.’


  ‘Oh, I’d love that,’ Charlotte said. Her eyes were glued to Lily. She missed Kate giving Lily the daggers.

  ‘So, tell me,’ Lily tapped her cigarette in the ashtray, ‘Rosie says you want to come back here to live?’

  Charlotte nodded gravely. ‘I do.’

  ‘You’re not worried about all the bombs being dropped on the town?’

  Charlotte shook her head.

  ‘So, the problem with coming back here to live full-time is?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Rosie is set against it.’ Charlotte looked nervously at Kate, unsure how much she should say. She might be at loggerheads with her sister, but she’d never be disloyal to her.

  ‘And why is that?’ Lily probed.

  ‘I think she wants me to stay at the school I’m at in Harrogate. It’s very good, you see.’

  ‘But you don’t like being there?’ Lily asked, stubbing out her cigarette.

  ‘No, I hate it.’ Charlotte couldn’t stop herself.

  ‘And have you told Rosie why you hate it so much?’ Kate butted in.

  Charlotte looked at Kate and then to Lily.

  ‘Not really,’ she said.

  ‘Well, perhaps you should be totally honest with her,’ Kate suggested, topping up their cups of tea. ‘Rosie loves you to pieces. She’d want to know if something was troubling you.’

  Charlotte blushed. She’d said too much already.

  Lily looked at Kate and then at Charlotte.

  ‘So, Charlotte,’ she said, ‘I’m guessing you don’t fancy going to the Sunderland Church High School?’

  Charlotte stared at Lily.

  ‘I don’t know of it,’ she said, her senses on full alert.

  A private school in Sunderland?

  How come Rosie had never mentioned it to her?

  ‘It’s a very good school, by all accounts,’ Lily said, ignoring the look of thunder coming from Kate. ‘I believe they offer boarding, but most of the pupils appear to be day students.’

  Charlotte felt like jumping up and down with excitement. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Really?’ She looked at Kate, who had suddenly started to clear the table.

  ‘Well,’ Kate glared at Lily, who was looking all wide-eyed and innocent, ‘we’d better get started on that wedding dress. Only another seven weeks to the big day.’

  ‘Where’s the school?’ Charlotte asked.

  ‘Mowbray Road. Right next to the art school,’ Lily said.

  ‘What? Just across the road from Christ Church?’ Charlotte asked.

  ‘That’s it,’ Lily said, doing her best to ignore the racket Kate was making clattering the cups and saucers about. ‘I believe the church is affiliated with the school.’

  Charlotte was just about to ask another question when Kate interrupted.

  ‘Well, Charlie. It’s been lovely seeing you. Have you got much planned for the rest of the afternoon?’

  ‘I have now. Lots,’ she said, getting up and putting on her mac.

  After saying her thank-yous and goodbyes, Charlotte walked out of the boutique.

  Her head was swirling with four words.

  Sunderland Church High School.

  Her prayers had been answered!

  And just in the nick of time.

  ‘Something smells nice.’

  Rosie walked through the front door and was hit by the smell of steak and kidney pie. She took off her coat, hung it up in the hallway and dumped her haversack and gas mask by the door.

  ‘I’m afraid I cheated and bought it from Jacky White’s market,’ Charlotte shouted from the kitchen.

  Rosie poked her head into the lounge and saw that the fire had been neatly stacked and was ready to spark up. The room looked immaculate. Carrying on down the hallway and into the kitchen, she saw that Charlotte had set the table and put a little bunch of wild flowers in a milk jug in the middle – something their mother used to do.

  ‘I have, however, made the gravy myself,’ Charlotte added. ‘And amazingly, it’s pretty much lump-free.’

  Rosie thought her sister looked strangely chirpy, especially as she was due to head back to Harrogate tomorrow. She would have liked to believe that now Charlotte had had her fun playing at having a job and meeting everyone her big sister knew, she was ready to get back to her studies and be with her own friends.

  Rosie had to laugh at herself. Who was she kidding?

  ‘Muriel taught me how to make proper gravy from scratch,’ Charlotte said as she cut up the pie and put two large pieces on their plates.

  ‘As long as she didn’t manage to squeeze anything out of you that she could turn into a good bit of gossip,’ Rosie said, watching Charlotte pour the smooth, dark gravy over their dinner.

  ‘I’m not as daft as I look!’ Charlotte put both their plates on the table and sat down.

  ‘This is lovely, Charlie,’ Rosie said, suddenly realising she was starving. It had been a long day. ‘But,’ she eyed her sister, ‘much as it’s appreciated, it won’t make me change my mind about you going back to school.’

  Charlotte looked as though she was going to say something but stopped herself.

  ‘So,’ Rosie asked, forking up a big piece of beef and pastry, ‘what did you do this afternoon?’

  ‘You first,’ Charlotte said. ‘Was it mad busy at the yard? Do you think Brutus is going to be ready for Christmas like Miss Crawford wants?’

  Rosie felt uneasy. Charlotte was far too cheerful.

  ‘Well, it was busy,’ Rosie said. ‘And it does look like Brutus is going to be ready earlier than expected, which is good news all round.’

  She looked at Charlotte, who was making a great show of being very attentive and interested.

  ‘But not just because Miss Crawford wants it to be ready,’ she added. ‘You understand why it’s imperative to get as many ships built as quickly as possible, don’t you?’

  Charlotte swallowed her food and took a long drink of water.

  ‘Of course I do, Rosie.’ She put her glass down on the table. ‘We need to get the ships built as fast as Jerry is sinking them, otherwise we’re not going to win the war.’ Charlotte quoted her sister verbatim.

  ‘Just as I know,’ she added, trying to impress, ‘that we’re the “Biggest Shipbuilding Town in the World”, and at the moment we’re launching, on average, a ship a week.’

  ‘I’m impressed,’ Rosie said.

  It hadn’t escaped her notice that Charlotte had said ‘we’re’.

  Her unspoken message was clear.

  I belong here.

  After they’d eaten and washed and dried up, Rosie turned to Charlotte.

  ‘Right, let’s get us both a cup of tea and you can tell me whatever it is you want to tell me.’

  Charlotte looked taken aback.

  ‘How did you know I wanted to tell you something?’

  ‘Charlie, I am your sister.’

  When the tea had been made and they’d taken it into the living room, Rosie lit the fire before turning her focus to Charlotte.

  ‘Right, go on then, fill me in.’

  ‘Well …’ Charlotte said, sitting up straight on the sofa. She couldn’t hide her excitement. ‘When I finished work this afternoon, I went to the Maison Nouvelle to see Kate.’

  Rosie’s feeling of unease from earlier on returned.

  ‘That’s nice,’ she said. ‘Was she all right?’

  ‘Yes, yes, she was fine,’ Charlotte said dismissively, before taking a big breath. ‘But guess who came in while I was there?’ she asked, her face animated.

  Please, no! Rosie begged silently.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ she said, trying to sound naturally curious.

  Charlotte took another deep breath before declaring dramatically, ‘Lily!’

  There was a pregnant pause.

  ‘And?’ Rosie asked, straight-faced.

  ‘And!’ Charlotte exclaimed breathlessly. ‘You didn’t say she’s such a character! Why didn’t you tell me about her before?’

&
nbsp; Rosie didn’t answer but cursed inwardly. She’d just about got Charlotte to the end of the week without her getting a sniff of her ‘other life’, then bingo! Up popped Lily.

  ‘She can speak French!’ Charlotte enthused. ‘And that hair! And,’ she added breathlessly, ‘have you seen her wedding dress?’

  Rosie just looked at Charlotte.

  She had, of course, seen Lily’s rather unconventional wedding dress, but that was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

  ‘It’s green!’ Charlotte declared, her eyes wide. ‘She’s a right hoot, isn’t she?’ she gushed.

  Rosie still seemed unwilling to enter into a discussion about Lily – or how wonderfully eccentric she was.

  ‘It sounds like she’s been wanting to meet me for ages,’ Charlotte said, looking askance at Rosie.

  Again, there was no response.

  ‘Anyway,’ Charlotte said, ‘she’s invited me round to hers for tea so I can meet her fiancé, George.’

  The hackles on Rosie’s back were now standing on end.

  ‘Has she now?’ she said through gritted teeth, before continuing as calmly as possible: ‘Well, it’s a shame you won’t have time to visit her, seeing as you’re travelling back tomorrow.’

  There was another expectant pause.

  Charlotte took a nervous sip of her tea.

  ‘Well, Rosie, that’s what I’ve got to talk to you about.’

  ‘Mmm?’ said Rosie.

  ‘Well,’ Charlotte went on, trying to be as composed and as convincing as possible, ‘Lily was telling me about the Sunderland Church High School.’

  Charlotte looked at her sister, trying to gauge her reaction, but Rosie’s face was like a blank page.

  ‘She says,’ Charlotte continued, ‘that it’s got day students as well as boarders. She says it’s a good school, by all accounts.’

  ‘Does she now?’ Rosie asked, raising her eyebrows. It was taking every bit of willpower to stop herself banging down her cup of tea, stomping the half-mile to West Lawn and wringing Lily’s neck.

  ‘Did you know about the school?’ Charlotte asked, trying to keep her tone non-accusatory. On the way home she’d taken a detour to go and look at it. She’d vaguely recalled walking past it once, years ago, but had presumed it was part of the art school. Her sister, however, must have known about it – especially since moving to this part of town.