Christmas with the Shipyard Girls Read online

  ‘It’s not visiting time!’

  Polly looked down to see the stern face of the ward nurse looking up at her.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Polly’s eyes darted back to her two workmates, who, having just spotted her, were waving frantically, demanding she come over.

  The nurse swivelled round to see what had caught the overall-clad woman’s attention. Realising it was two of the survivors from last night’s air raid, she turned back to Polly.

  ‘You’ve got twenty minutes. Not a second over.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ Polly felt like hugging her, but she restrained herself, hurrying over to her two friends and hugging them instead.

  ‘How are you both?’ She looked at Gloria, who appeared remarkably well and relaxed. Martha also looked well, although not as laid-back.

  ‘Good! All good!’ they answered in unison.

  ‘But we’re dying to know about Tommy,’ Gloria said.

  ‘Get that chair and sit down and tell us everything!’ Martha demanded.

  Polly chuckled. ‘You sound like Dorothy!’

  The three women suppressed their laughter, aware that the nurse was keeping a sharp eye on them.

  Polly grabbed the chair and sat down.

  ‘I still can’t quite believe it.’ She looked from Gloria to Martha. ‘When I saw him, I thought I was dreaming. Honestly, I think it’s taken me all night to convince myself that this is real.’

  ‘Eee, Pol, we’re made up for yer, we really are, aren’t we?’ Gloria said.

  Martha nodded vigorously.

  ‘I thought he was a goner.’

  ‘I think we all did,’ Gloria admitted.

  Tears started to trickle down Polly’s face.

  ‘I did too,’ she confessed.

  Gloria leant forward and squeezed Polly’s hand.

  ‘So come on, we want a blow-by-blow account before Mrs Mardy over there chucks you out.’ She cast a look over at the nurse, who was checking a patient’s chart.

  Polly relayed the events of last night, how, after leaving them all at the bomb site, she and Maisie had practically run all the way to Lily’s, before George had taken her to the Ryhope in his red MG. ‘When I got to the ward, I saw him there, lying in his bed, fast asleep.’

  ‘Did yer wake him up?’ Gloria asked.

  ‘No, I just sat there for ages, looking at him. I think I was in some kind of a trance. What with everything that had happened before.’

  She looked at Martha and then Gloria. It wasn’t only Tommy who was lucky to still be in the land of the living.

  ‘Eventually I gave him a kiss and he woke up.’

  ‘Like Sleeping Beauty,’ Martha said.

  Polly and Gloria laughed.

  ‘It was, come to think of it. I don’t think he was entirely sure it was me. He kept asking if it was really me.’

  Polly paused.

  ‘Then he asked me if I still wanted to marry him.’

  Martha and Gloria ‘aahed’ in unison.

  ‘Well, I hope yer said yer would!’ Gloria chuckled.

  ‘We both agreed we’d waited long enough,’ Polly said.

  ‘You’ve been sad for so long,’ Gloria said, ‘it’s lovely to see yer so happy, isn’t it?’

  Martha nodded, a big smile on her face.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy,’ Polly admitted. ‘Not even after Tommy proposed, although that was different, I was happy but sad—’

  ‘Because he’d just signed up?’ Martha said.

  Polly nodded.

  ‘This time, though,’ she beamed, ‘I’ve got him for keeps. He’s home now – for good. There’s no way they’ll send him back out there.’

  Her face clouded over momentarily.

  ‘Dr Parker said he’s lucky to be alive. Still has a long way to go before he’ll be anywhere near back to normal.’

  Looking up at the clock, she realised her twenty minutes was nearly up.

  ‘But enough about me and Tommy. How are you two?’

  ‘Well, Gloria here’s happy as a dog with two tails,’ Martha grouched. ‘Thanks to all the painkillers she’s been given. And she’s slept like a baby.’

  She gave Gloria a sidelong look.

  ‘She snores, you know?’

  Polly chuckled while Gloria pulled a face of disbelief.

  ‘Martha’s only in a one ’cos they won’t give her anything because of her head injury. They woke her up every few hours during the night to check she was all right.’

  ‘Let’s have a quick look,’ Polly said, getting up from her chair.

  Martha obliged and turned her head.

  ‘Urgh,’ Polly said, seeing a neat row of stitches and a black crust of dried blood where Martha’s hair had been shaved.

  ‘Looks worse than it is,’ Martha said. ‘I should be allowed out later today.’

  Just then they heard the nurse coughing and turned to see her pointing up at the clock.

  ‘And Hope?’ Polly asked Gloria quickly. ‘Dr Parker said Helen was looking after her?’

  ‘Helen said she wanted to look after her while I was in here,’ Gloria explained. ‘And you know Helen, there’s no arguing with her once she makes her mind up.’

  Polly was on the verge of quizzing Gloria about how she and Helen had become so close when the nurse coughed loudly again. Her time was up.

  ‘Go on, get yourself home. Get some sleep,’ Gloria said. ‘You look like yer need it!’

  ‘I’ll be back to work on Monday. See you then!’ Martha added as Polly gave them another hug and hurried out the ward.

  After Polly’s departure, Gloria put her tea down on the bedside cabinet and turned to Martha.

  ‘Yer know, Martha, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank yer enough for what yer did last night.’ Gloria’s words were still slightly slurred from the painkillers she’d been given shortly before Polly had turned up. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget opening my eyes and seeing you slapping me around the chops, trying to bring me round.’

  Martha chuckled. Gloria had repeated this story a few times since they had been admitted last night.

  ‘And then looking up and seeing Helen standing there, with Hope clinging to her like a little monkey. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relieved in my whole life.’

  Gloria’s eyes closed for a moment as she reran the film that seemed to be on a continuous loop in her head: Helen giving Hope over to Martha, Gloria and Helen yelling at Martha to get Hope out of the house before it collapsed, then seeing the bloody gash on the back of Martha’s head as she’d made her way down what was left of Mrs Crabtree’s hallway.

  When Gloria opened her eyes again, her vision was blurred. She was crying. Again. She didn’t seem to be able to stop the tears. But she didn’t care. Nothing mattered except that her little girl was alive and well.

  Gloria stretched over to Martha and grabbed her friend’s hand.

  ‘And when Hope’s old enough to understand, I’m gonna tell her about what happened. I’m gonna tell her that she didn’t have a guardian angel looking after her that night, but her brave aunty Martha.’

  Martha squeezed Gloria’s hand back.

  She didn’t say anything as she too was choking back tears, thinking how close they had been to losing the woman and child they all loved so much.

  When Polly jumped off the bus at the top of Tatham Street, she realised why she hadn’t seen many trams. The tracks all the way down her street were buckled and bent and the tram that had been derailed last night was still there, covered in debris, all its windows shattered.

  She walked slowly, taking in the devastation. Further down the road she could see there was now just the one fire engine and a lone St John’s ambulance on site, but there were still people digging around in the ruins of those who had lived in numbers 2, 4 and 6. The Education Architect’s Offices, which had once stood opposite those houses, was no longer there either. There was a small mountain of red bricks in its place.

  As
Polly reached her own front door, she realised just how near to death they had all been. If the bomb had landed a hundred yards further up the street, it would have been their home that was now in ruins. And if that had been the case, every one of them would have perished, without a shadow of a doubt.

  ‘Watch yerself, hinny!’

  Polly jumped back to stop herself colliding with Pearl coming out the front door.

  ‘Yer fella all right then?’

  ‘Yes, yes, he is.’ Polly was taken aback. She and Bel’s ma rarely spoke to each other, even though they’d lived under the same roof for more than a year. ‘You off to the Tatham?’ she asked, watching Pearl spark up a fag as she stepped onto the pavement.

  ‘Aye, yer knar what they say, “Keep calm ’n carry on!”’ She puffed on her cigarette. ‘Can’t disappoint the regulars. Bombs or no bombs.’

  Polly watched as Pearl crossed the road, coughing as she went.

  Walking into the house, Polly could smell one of her ma’s favourites – rabbit, black pudding and dumpling stew – cooking in the range. The house felt warm and homely.

  ‘I’m back!’ she hollered down the hallway.

  Within seconds Agnes had appeared at the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on her pinny, the two dogs by her side. She threw her arms open to give her daughter a hug.

  ‘Look at the state of yer! Is Tommy all right?’

  Polly nodded. Tears pooled in her eyes. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

  Agnes made the sign of the cross, cast her eyes up to the ceiling and mumbled a quick ‘Thanks be to God.’

  She bustled over to Arthur who was snoozing in his chair by the range.

  ‘Arthur, Arthur, wake up.’ She gently shook the old man’s arm. ‘It’s Polly,’ she told him. ‘She’s back.’

  ‘Ah, Pol.’ Arthur sat up in his chair. ‘How’s our Tom?’

  Polly crouched down, wrapped her arms around the old man, squeezed him hard and started sobbing. It was as though the floodgates to her emotions had just burst open and all the happiness, sadness, worry, dread and heartbreak of the past year just came rampaging out.

  Again she tried to speak but couldn’t.

  ‘There, there, pet.’ Arthur patted her head with his bony hand as she knelt by his chair and clung to him, the sound of her crying muffled by his jacket. After a while, Polly became aware that Tramp and Pup were by her side and were trying to push their heads under her arm, needing reassurance that she was all right. Polly let out a laugh as the dogs tried to lick the salty tears from her face.

  ‘Come and have a cuppa.’ Agnes beckoned her daughter over to the kitchen table.

  Polly stood up and dried her eyes on the back of her overall sleeve.

  ‘Where’s everyone?’ she asked, sitting down at the table while her ma poured her a steaming cup of tea.

  ‘Joe’s round at Major Black’s.’ Agnes added milk and a good heap of sugar. ‘Bel’s at work and Hope and Lucille are next door at Beryl’s. Now drink yer tea ’n tell us all about it.’

  More tears rolled down Polly’s face.

  ‘I don’t know why I’m crying.’ She smiled at Arthur. ‘Tommy’s alive and he’s going to be all right.’ She took a deep, juddering breath. ‘That’s what his doctor said. Dr Parker’s his name. He said Tommy’s been through the mill. Said he was on a Red Cross ship that got bombed, but he was rescued and brought back in a cargo vessel with a load of other injured soldiers.’

  Arthur had shuffled forward on his chair and was patting Pup, although his eyes were trained on Polly.

  ‘He said he had something called a “ruptured spleen”,’ she went on, ‘lost a lot of blood and had an operation. He’s only just regained consciousness, but the doctor seems to think he’ll be all right.’

  ‘That’s fantastic news, pet,’ Arthur said, smiling at Polly. ‘Sounds like he’s in the right hands. And he’s back home. Which is the main thing.’

  Polly nodded and smiled through the tears. ‘Yes, he’s home.’ She laughed. ‘He says he wants to set a date for our wedding.’

  ‘He’s definitely all right, then,’ Arthur said, looking across at Agnes, who returned his look of relief.

  ‘He does look a bit rough,’ Polly added. ‘I think he’ll need to be in hospital for a good while.’

  Arthur nodded his understanding.

  ‘Right, then,’ he said, pushing himself out of his chair. ‘I better get up there.’

  Polly noticed that Arthur had on his best shoes and suit. He’d clearly been waiting for her to come back before he went to visit.

  ‘Tell him I’ll be up later,’ she said.

  ‘I will, pet. Now you do as yer ma tells you. Have something to eat, get yerself cleaned up, ’n put yer head down for a few hours.’

  Polly gave the old man another hug.

  ‘I still can’t quite believe it,’ she said.

  ‘Aye,’ Arthur agreed. ‘Neither can I.’

  Chapter Seven

  The horn sounded out the end of the shift, starting the mass exodus from the yard.

  Charlotte was obeying orders and waiting for Rosie outside the main admin offices. She was shuffling about from one foot to the other. Being out in the cold had made her need the loo even more than before. She was determined to hold it in until she got home, though. She had used the outdoor lav at lunchtime, but it had been daylight then. She had banged so hard on the corrugated iron she’d hurt her knuckles. She’d been in and out in record-breaking speed.

  ‘There she is!’

  Charlotte looked up to see Dorothy marching towards her. She was flanked by her scary friend, Angie, and a stern-looking Rosie.

  ‘How was it?’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘Fine, fine,’ Charlotte nodded.

  ‘Yer behaved yerself?’ Angie demanded.

  Charlotte nodded again, nervously tapping her time card against the side of her mac.

  ‘That yer board?’ Angie asked, pointing down at the whitewashed card.

  Charlotte looked puzzled.

  ‘Yer board – yer time card?’

  ‘Ah, yes, Miss McCarthy just gave it to me. Apparently, I have to give it in at the end of every day.’

  ‘Well, remember yer number,’ Angie ordered.

  Charlotte looked at the card, which had ‘445’ printed on it.

  ‘We’re like cattle here, aren’t we, Dor?’ Angie looked at her friend. ‘They don’t brand us, but we’re all just numbers.’

  ‘Come on then,’ Rosie said, forcing herself to keep a straight face. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  Charlotte hurried to join her sister. It was the lesser of two evils.

  As they reached the small cabin at the yard’s entrance, Rosie turned to Charlotte.

  ‘Alfie’s the timekeeper. You give him your board at the end of the shift and he makes a note of the hours you’ve worked. When you come in Monday morning, you’ll shout out your number and he’ll give you your board back.’

  Charlotte duly handed her time card to Alfie, followed by Rosie.

  ‘You won’t forget about our deal?’ Alfie leant out of the hatch so as not to have to shout.

  ‘What deal was that, Alfie?’ Rosie said, her face deadpan.

  Alfie looked crestfallen, but was wise enough not to argue the point.

  Charlotte looked at her sister. She had never seen this side to her before.

  ‘So, I’m working here – properly?’ Charlotte asked as they strode down to the ferry landing.

  ‘It’s either that or Harrogate,’ Rosie said. ‘The choice is yours.’

  ‘Rosie! Rosie!’

  Charlotte looked ahead to see a petite, dark-haired girl waving across at them. Next to her was a young lad with a thick mop of short blond hair. He was sporting round, black-rimmed spectacles.

  ‘Is this who I think it is?’ Hannah looked wide-eyed at Rosie and then at Charlotte.

  ‘It certainly is,’ Rosie said. ‘Hannah, this is my sister Charlie … Charlie, this is Hannah, who, I might add,
is one of the most talented trainee draughtsmen – or I should really say draughtswomen – at Thompson’s.’

  Hannah blushed.

  ‘So, Charlie,’ she said, reaching out and taking her hand, ‘it’s lovely to meet you. We’ve all heard so much about you.’

  Charlotte looked at Rosie. She doubted her sister had been singing her praises.

  ‘Oh, and coincidentally,’ Rosie turned to her sister, ‘Hannah also ran away from where she was living.’ She glanced at the group’s ‘little bird’ and smiled sadly. ‘Only Hannah here had good reason to.’

  Charlotte looked at the young woman in front of her. Taking in her dark eyes, olive skin and bobbed jet-black hair, she guessed she was Jewish.

  ‘Where are you from?’ Charlotte asked.

  ‘Prague, Czechoslovakia,’ Hannah said proudly. ‘But don’t ask me about it,’ she added, ‘otherwise I might cry.’

  She looked at Rosie.

  ‘I’m feeling so … what is the word?’ She thought for a moment. ‘That’s it – I feel so weepy after last night.’

  They were all quiet.

  ‘We went to see Martha and Gloria during lunchtime,’ Hannah said, breaking the silence. ‘Took them some of Aunty Rina’s rugelach she’d made for the Sabbath.’

  ‘Pastries,’ Dorothy whispered in Charlotte’s ear. ‘Made with raisins, nuts and jam. Totally delicious.’

  ‘We gave one to the matron,’ Olly chuckled, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, ‘and she let us stay a little longer.’

  ‘Were they both all reet?’ Angie asked.

  ‘Yes, they were in good spirits. Some good news for a change. Díky Bohu.’

  ‘“Thanks be to God”,’ Olly informed.

  ‘They said Polly had popped in this morning.’

  ‘Really?!’ Dorothy and Angie exclaimed in unison.

  ‘They said she was “floating on a cloud”,’ Hannah relayed with a big smile.

  ‘Ahh,’ the women chorused, just as the W.F. Vint gently bumped the front of the ferry landing.

  ‘Yer learning Czech now?’ Angie asked Olly as they all lined up to board.

  Olly nodded nervously. Charlotte clocked the interaction and was glad she wasn’t the only one to feel intimidated by Angie.