The War Girls

‘Who ever would have thought that we were going to be at war again, so soon after the last hideous one,’ Janet said. ‘It beggars belief – and of course conscription is in full swing, all young men having to go and do their duty.’ She pursed her lips. ‘One of my best friends is in a similar position to you, though he was already a serving officer in the Somerset Light Infantry so he would obviously have been one of the first to go. He’s always being sent off somewhere for yet more and more training, and never knows when he’s going to have leave.’

Abigail looked away for a second, ashamed at pretending to be married. So, Aunt Edna had been right about the possibility of war, though she, Abigail, hadn’t known much about the facts – which was why she’d shrugged off Edna’s warning.

‘How lovely to have a best friend,’ Abigail said, wanting to switch the conversation on to more comfortable waters.

‘Yes – and I have two,’ Janet said happily. ‘Eileen and Carrie. Carrie is the one with the soldier boyfriend who she doesn’t see so much of now.’ Janet finished her cup of tea before adding, ‘Eileen and Carrie both work here in the town and they often pop in for a coffee or a quick meal – or just for a bit of a gossip, which we are all very good at!’

Two best friends, Abigail thought briefly. Well, hadn’t Luke said that she would have friends, real friends, one day? Perhaps Bristol was the place to be to have that sort of luck …

Just then, Emily returned all smiles. ‘I finished wiping the cups and saucers,’ she said triumphantly, ‘and Pat said I did it very well!’

‘Well, maybe next time you come in we can find you even more things to do,’ Janet said, ‘because we’re often short of help at busy times.’

Abigail looked at Janet quickly, instinctively feeling that the owner of this café was someone she could talk to with confidence. ‘As a matter of fact,’ Abigail said, ‘I shall be looking for work myself in a week or so … after I’ve found us somewhere to live. And I would be happy to help you out – I can turn my hand to almost anything on the domestic front,’ she added.

Janet raised her eyes. ‘You mean you’ve nowhere to stay?’ she said, unable to hide her surprise. Who came to a strange city with a tiny child and nowhere to stay?

‘Not yet,’ Abigail replied, ‘but there shouldn’t be too much difficulty, should there? We only need one nice room, and I have … I have the money to pay for it,’ she added.

Janet stood up. ‘Well, there’s a very reliable estate agency a short walk away from here at the end of Clare Street – just off the Centre over there,’ she said. ‘They might have something which could be suitable.’

Abigail stood as well, taking out her purse. ‘Breakfast was lovely, Janet – how much do I owe you?’

After the bill had been paid, Janet saw them to the door and suddenly Abigail hesitated. She turned to Janet.

‘You will think me very naive,’ she said, ‘but I need a little advice.’

Janet smiled. ‘Of course. What can I do to help?’

‘It’s just that … most of the money I own is actually in sovereigns,’ she said, ‘and I realise that shops don’t accept them … do they?’

‘Lucky you to have sovereigns!’ Janet said, ‘I have just one which I keep with my other little treasures. But there won’t be any problem if you take them to the General Post Office, which is a ten-minute walk away from here. I’m sure they will exchange them for pounds, shillings and pence. And then away you go to spend the lot!’

Abigail nodded, smiling. ‘Yes – and I think we are going to need to, because we didn’t bring many clothes with us. But of course, as I don’t know Bristol, I have no idea about where the suitable shops are,’ she added.

Janet folded her arms. ‘I can tell you exactly where you will find everything you need – for both of you,’ she said firmly. ‘Baker Baker at the bottom of Park Street – just round the corner – they cater for every age group so you wouldn’t need to go traipsing all over the place and tiring yourselves out. Everything you might need is all there under one roof.’ She paused for a moment, glancing at Emily. ‘They also sell prams and small pushchairs,’ she added, ‘and I think that if you are going to be doing a lot of walking in the next few days, Emily might be glad of a lift.’

Abigail nodded quickly. At Coopers, Emily had only ever been pushed around in the hand cart which years ago Arnold had made to bring up the vegetables from the field. A proper pushchair for Emily would be a real treat.

Emily, who’d been taking all this in, said, ‘I shan’t want a lift. But dolly might.’

‘I love your little dolly,’ Janet said, ‘and she looks so sweet sitting in the pocket of your dress, Emily.’

‘That’s where she lives,’ Emily said.

They turned to leave, and Abigail said, ‘Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how good it’s been to meet you and to enjoy your lovely food – and your wise words.’

‘The pleasure has been mine, Abigail,’ Janet said, ‘and I hope we see you again here as soon as you’re ready to help me out here. I’ll make absolutely sure we have a little apron all ready for Emily!’

Chapter 7

Leaving Robertson’s and following Janet’s instructions, Abigail and Emily began to make their way up the hill towards Baker Baker.

‘I like Janet,’ Emily said, skipping happily alongside Abigail. ‘And I like Pat and Fay. They said they wished they had a dolly like mine.’

‘Yes, we’re lucky to have gone to Janet’s café, aren’t we?’ Abigail said. ‘Were the chips nice?’ But she needn’t have asked because Emily hadn’t left a single one on her plate.

It really was a lovely warm day and Abigail was filled with a huge sense of optimism. How different she had felt last night! But today it seemed that luck was on their side, and soon she was going to buy herself and Emily a new dress and cardigan, and new shoes. New shoes at last! But she’d have to be careful to study the price of everything first … though Abigail felt sure she had enough of Dada’s money until she was able to swap those sovereigns.

Presently, carrying a bag holding the few items they’d bought, and with both of them wearing new shoes – Abigail’s being a pair of sling-back, cream, open-toe sandals, and Emily’s white canvas daps with tiny silver buckles at each side – they made their way back down the hill towards the estate agent’s office that Janet had told them about.

They had also bought a small pushchair which Emily refused to sit in, but which she had soon found out how to manoeuvre along the pavements and over kerbs.

‘Wouldn’t you like to have a ride, Emily?’ Abigail asked, wishing they could walk a little faster. ‘I’m sure dolly would love to have one.’

That made all the difference, and Emily immediately climbed in to the pushchair and leaned her head back. Abigail thought what a piece of luck they’d had in meeting Janet Robertson. The pushchair had been her idea and it was obvious that it was going to be put to full use in the coming days as they walked about discovering Bristol, their new home. Their new home! It was hard to believe that they were actually here in this busy city, the streets noisy with Saturday morning traffic weaving its way in every direction, and with crowds of people all walking or strolling along, free to come and go as they pleased. Abigail couldn’t help a smile forming on her lips because they were free, too. She and Emily were no longer trapped and could do exactly as they liked without Aunt Edna’s demanding voice constantly in their ears. This was what Abigail had dreamed about for so long, and now it was reality, and with childlike trust, Emily had accepted everything without complaint.

And what would Luke think of her great escape? Abigail wondered. Well, he probably wouldn’t be all that surprised because she had promised him that one day, she would leave Coopers, and never go back. But what he would be surprised about was the presence of a little daughter he knew nothing of. Tears immediately sprang to Abigail’s eyes. It would be wonderful if things were different and he was with them now, together, as a family.

Abigail lifted her head, annoyed with herself. She hadn’t seen Luke, nor heard a thing about him, since that afternoon in the summer house, and it was known that the Jordans no longer lived at Mulberry Court. So by now he would be well on with his studies, achieving everything expected of him and would probably have had no time to give a single thought to her.

Now, they arrived at the estate agent’s office and stopped to look in the window. There were lots of advertisements displaying properties to buy or to rent, and Abigail bit her lip as she stared. The prices quoted seemed rather high to her. And exactly how much money were they going to eventually exchange for those sovereigns? Was it going to be enough?

Just then, a man emerged from the agent’s office and looked down at Abigail. He’d seen her looking in. He smiled. ‘Good morning – or should I say good afternoon because it’s past noon now! Can I help you with anything today?’

Abigail smiled back. ‘Well, um, I am … my name is … is Mrs Wilson … and my daughter and I have only just arrived in Bristol and have nowhere to stay. I’ve no idea where to start looking for accommodation.’

‘Well,’ the man said, ‘come inside and let’s see if anything on our books appeals to you.’ He paused. ‘Is it a house, or a flat that you have in mind? Are there, um … are there just the two of you … Mrs Wilson?’ He raised one eyebrow quizzically as he gazed at Abigail.

‘Yes,’ Abigail said firmly, ‘it’s just Emily and me. Our needs are few and we would only want one bedroom … with suitable facilities as well, of course.’

The tone of her voice implied that she had a mind of her own, and the man immediately began thumbing through his large book.

‘I gather there was nothing in the window that appealed to you,’ he said, ‘but we do have one or two that might be suitable … ah, yes … this one in Stapleton Road is a one-bed. It’s on the ground floor of a terraced block but …’ He glanced at Emily who was sitting quietly staring at everything around her. ‘But it is on the main road and would be rather noisy, especially during busy times of the day … and night. But it does have the one bedroom you require, and you would share bathroom and kitchen with the tenants upstairs.’

‘And where is Stapleton Road?’ Abigail asked, feeling that she should show some interest even though she didn’t like the sound of that noisy place. They’d never even heard one car hoot outside Coopers. Still, she and Emily were going to have to be prepared for changes of all sorts, that was obvious.

‘Oh, some way from here … a bus ride or so,’ the man said.

Abigail let a moment pass. ‘I would really prefer something central if possible,’ she said.

The man pursed his lips as he turned the pages. He had to be honest, they didn’t have much to offer this unusual customer and the only other one-bedroom places were in St. Philip’s and Horfield. Hardly the central locations the lady had requested. Then suddenly he remembered! There was the one that only came in yesterday. It wasn’t even in the book yet. He turned to Abigail.

‘Well, I might have something after all,’ he said, beginning to cheer up. For some reason he hadn’t held out much hope with this customer and it was past his lunch time. ‘It may be just what you’re looking for,’ he went on. ‘One bedroom with shared facilities at number fourteen Redcliffe Way which is as central as you’re ever going to get. And right next to Queen Square – or nearly so – which is a lovely open space. And the property is easy walking distance from the Centre,’ he added triumphantly. ‘From here, you could get there in ten minutes.’

This sounded more like it, but Abigail needed to know a little more. ‘So – who would we be sharing with?’ she asked tentatively.

‘Oh, it’s a very simple arrangement,’ the man said. ‘The owner of the house is a Miss Grant who lives there alone. You would be sharing her facilities, obviously.’ He paused for a second. ‘The only thing is the room is on a rather short lease … three months, actually … but you never know I’m sure that could be extended. If all went well.’

Abigail thought quickly. A three-month arrangement might be perfect because if she and Emily weren’t happy there, they wouldn’t have to put up with it for long. ‘When could we go and meet Miss Grant?’ Abigail said. ‘It is a matter of urgency because, as I’ve already said, we have nowhere to stay tonight.’

The man nodded. ‘Miss Grant informed us that she will be available for viewing every day – apart from tomorrow – from two o’clock to six,’ he said. He glanced at his watch. ‘I would happily have taken you there myself and introduced you to the lady, but we close at three today – my afternoon off – so there’s hardly time, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh that doesn’t matter,’ Abigail said, ‘Emily and I will be able to find our own way without any problem. Going there by ourselves will be a wonderful opportunity to start getting to know Bristol.’

The man bent to scribble something on a piece of paper. ‘Look, here’s a note showing how to get there, but anyone can direct you to Redcliffe Way.’ He began ushering them to the door. ‘And of course I will follow this up with Miss Grant first thing on Monday morning.’

Abigail turned back. ‘We haven’t discussed rent, or what it would cost,’ she began, and he waved his hand.

‘Oh – I assure you it’s usually very little,’ he said airily. ‘Miss Grant didn’t actually say on this occasion, but we’ve had dealings with the lady before and I’m sure what she’s asking this time would not be too much. Anyway,’ he added brightly, ‘you can discuss the financial terms with her and come to a decision that suits you both. You might even try a little bartering!’ He held out his hand to shake Abigail’s. ‘It’s nice to have met you, Mrs Wilson, and I have a feeling that you are going to like number fourteen Redcliffe Way.’ He patted Emily’s head briefly, wondering whether Miss Grant would be happy to accept a child in the arrangement, though he had to admit this one hadn’t made a single sound.

‘Gosh, it’s good to sit down,’ Eileen said as she and Carrie took their seats in the restaurant of Jones’s department store. ‘Wandering from floor to floor can be very wearing.’

The large store in Broadmead Shopping Centre was always very popular with residents and visitors alike, and today it was crowded.

Carrie nodded. ‘Yes, especially as neither of us have bought anything to show for our efforts. Though I’m still thinking about that red dress. After we’ve had lunch I might go back and try it on again.’

‘It did suit you, Carrie,’ Eileen said, ‘as I told you at the time. But you are never very good at making up your mind, are you?’

‘No,’ Carrie agreed cheerfully. ‘Before I part with my money I need to think several times, and then think again.’ She looked pensive for a second. ‘The thing is, I wonder if Mark would like me in that particular colour? It was a bit hot and bothersome, wasn’t it?’

Eileen made a face. ‘Does it matter whether Mark likes it or not?’ she said. ‘You’re the one who’d be wearing it, and if you like it, then surely that’s all that matters.’

‘You’re probably right,’ Carrie said, ‘but I’m always extra happy when I know he really admires something I’m wearing.’ She smiled. ‘At the moment, you haven’t got a man in your life, Eileen, so you’re fun and fancy free.’

‘Yes, and that state of affairs is likely to remain for some time to come,’ Eileen retorted. ‘Life’s too short to be worrying about what someone else wants me to wear, say or do.’

Carrie smiled across at her friend fondly. What Eileen had just said didn’t really ring true because she always went out of her way to help others and put herself last – and had devoted her life to her handicapped mother who’d been widowed for many years. Although Mrs Matthews had always been a dominant character, she’d met her match in her daughter because Eileen was determined that her mother should live as happy a life as possible, despite her infirmities. After the death of her husband, Gladys Matthews, retired head of a junior school, would have been quite happy to sit in her chair and shut the world out. But Eileen would have none of that, taking her mother to church most Sundays, and to the municipal park at the end of their road to sit watching the children playing on the swings, and to the Theatre Royal now and again. It was hard going because Mrs Matthews was often depressed. But she had certainly become used to the sound of hilarity in the house when Carrie, and Eileen’s other friends, came in for a cup of tea and a game of cards or Monopoly. Though Mrs Matthews could never understand what they found so much to giggle and laugh about all the time.

Just then, the waitress came to take their order for lunch, and as so often the case, both girls chose the same. Fish and chips with bread and butter and a pot of tea.

‘Right,’ the waitress said, marking up her pad, ‘and pudding?’

‘Ice cream, please,’ they chorused. ‘One strawberry, one vanilla.’

Presently, as they sat enjoying their meal, Carrie said, ‘How is your mother today, Eileen? You said she hasn’t been sleeping well.’

‘She hasn’t slept well for ages,’ Eileen said, ‘so nothing new there. But I wish she would eat a bit more. I’ve left her some soup I made earlier – leek and potato, which she used to enjoy so I’m hoping she’ll have had some when we get back. Though I don’t suppose she’ll have touched the fresh roll I buttered for her.’

Carrie didn’t answer for a moment, thinking how lucky her own life was in comparison. Her father was the vicar of All Saints in Knowle, and he and her mother were both in good health, and happy in the lives they had chosen. Jonathan Waters’ church always had a full congregation, and Mrs Waters was a faithful partner to him, presiding over the Mothers’ Union, and always ready with tea and sympathy for needy parishioners. But best of all, Carrie knew that they approved of her relationship with Mark and they always welcomed him into their home when he was on leave. Even though Mrs Waters had once said she thought he had chosen a very dangerous career.

‘I’ll give you a penny for them,’ Eileen said now, glancing across. ‘What’s on your mind?’

Carrie smiled quickly. ‘I was just thinking of Mark and … and how glad I am that my parents like him. And how glad I am that you, Eileen, like him as well,’ she added. ‘That you like each other. Wouldn’t it be awful if you two didn’t hit it off! I would probably have to chuck him!’

‘No you wouldn’t,’ Eileen said. She finished her meal and put down her knife and fork. ‘You’d be an idiot to chuck someone like handsome Mark Anderson. Mark with his sense of humour and that infectious laugh is someone special. If I thought I was in with a chance, I’d try my hand at stealing him from you.’

Carrie laughed out loud, knowing that Eileen would never do such a thing. They had always been great and loyal friends, and nothing would change that. Carrie’s eyes clouded briefly. She wished that Eileen could find someone like Mark, even though Eileen always said she wasn’t interested in having a man in her life. There had been one or two flirtations in the office at the Royal Insurance Company where Eileen had worked since leaving school, but Eileen was always the one to end a relationship.

‘It’s funny when you think how you and Mark met,’ Eileen said, and Carrie nodded.

‘You mean how we collided!’ she said. ‘I didn’t think it was funny at the time, but looking back on it, it certainly was funny. I mean, I had only popped down from Accounts to buy everyone a cake to go with our afternoon cuppa, and Mark was there with his back to me at the counter and turned suddenly, and knocked me right off my feet! There I was, full-length on the floor and covered in crumbs!’ Carrie giggled happily at the memory. ‘But he was so gallant as he picked me up and brushed me down and insisted on paying for all the lost cakes.’

‘I should think so too,’ Eileen said. ‘And he made sure that that was not the last time he came into The Berkeley Hotel and Restaurant, either. He haunted the place after that in the hope of seeing you, didn’t he … and that is how the affair of the century began,’ she added.

‘Lucky me,’ Carrie said simply.

‘Lucky him,’ Eileen said firmly.

With Emily in the pushchair in charge of all their bags and shopping, Abigail began walking away from the estate agent’s office in the direction she’d been given. He’d said it would only take them ten minutes and it was now two-thirty so they would be in plenty of time to arrive at the property to meet Miss Grant during the time specified.

Abigail hummed a little tune under her breath. She had a good feeling about number fourteen, and as long as she could afford the terms, they could be installed straightaway, then think of something nice for an early tea. The breakfast at Robertson’s had been very sustaining, but presently something on toast would go down very well. But the first and most important thing was to know where they were going to be sleeping tonight.

Her expression darkened as she remembered what Aunt Edna had said. ‘You must be mad, how on earth do you think you will manage … you have no experience outside here … and you won’t even have a roof over your heads …’

Well of course, part of that was true, Abigail thought, but she and Emily had managed so far, they’d arrived and survived, and it seemed likely that very soon they would have a roof over their heads. Luke was right – you could change things if you were determined.

Abigail was about to cross the road at the end of Baldwin Street in order to follow the instructions she’d been given, when suddenly a car, with its horn blasting, careered around the corner in front of her making her stop and pull back abruptly. And as she did so, Emily, together with all their belongings, was jerked right out of the pushchair. She was thrown to the ground, taking her weight on both her knees. And after a second …

‘Ow! Mummy! Look, look … my knees are bleeding! Oh, Mummy, you made me fall out of the pushchair! Ow, Ow!’

Unable to stop herself, Emily let out a scream of pain and horror as she watched blood begin to trickle down her legs.

Equally horrified, Abigail pulled Emily towards her, annoyed with herself that she hadn’t thought to strap Emily into the chair. But before this disaster, there hadn’t seemed to be any need.

‘I’m so sorry, darling,’ Abigail said, ‘but I had to stop quickly or we might have got run over. That car was so close to us!’

Still sobbing quietly, Emily continued examining her wounds while Abigail gathered up their belongings and wondered what to do next. They couldn’t arrive at number fourteen like this – at least not until she’d cleaned Emily up.

‘Oh no! Oh my goodness me! Let us help you! You poor little thing!’

Eileen and Carrie, having strolled to the Centre from Broadmead after their lunch, arrived just in time to see what had happened, and both sprang forward, arms outstretched.

‘I saw that!’ Eileen exclaimed, gathering Emily up into her arms but being careful to avoid her knees. ‘That taxi must have been going ninety miles an hour!’

Abigail, still crouching to collect their things, looked up gratefully. ‘Oh – thanks … thank you,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise I was so close to the kerb.’ She swallowed. ‘We could have been killed!’

Carrie bent to pick up the remaining bag on the ground and smiled at Abigail. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘you stopped just in time, and a miss is as good as a mile, isn’t it? And your brave little girl has already stopped crying.’

Suddenly, the penny dropped as Eileen realised she recognised these two. Still holding Emily to her, she gazed at Abigail. ‘I think I’ve seen you before,’ she said slowly. ‘Weren’t you waiting for someone last night at Temple Meads? In the restaurant?’

Of course she’d seen them before! How could she ever forget those two beautiful people!

Taken aback for a moment, Abigail hesitated. ‘Well, we weren’t actually waiting for someone,’ she said. ‘My name is Abigail Wilson and this is my daughter, Emily, and you see, we’d been on a long journey from Somerset and were having a bit of a breather before we … before we had to leave to find ourselves somewhere to stay.’ She paused. She was not going to admit that they’d spent the night in the rest room. ‘We’ve left our old home,’ she went on, ‘and intend starting a new life here in Bristol even though we don’t know anyone yet. As a matter of fact, we were actually on our way to view an address which might be suitable for the two of us.’ She paused again, knowing she’d been gabbling. ‘But first I need to make Emily more comfortable.’ She glanced down. ‘Is it still stinging, darling?’ she murmured.