The Clippie Girls Read online

  Mary and Rose sipped it gratefully, cupping their hands round the hot mugs to get warm.

  ‘It’s bitter out and the blackout makes it worse somehow,’ Mary said. ‘I wish I wasn’t back on duty quite so early in the morning.’

  ‘I doubt either of us will be needed tomorrow or for a few days yet,’ Rose said.

  ‘But we must report in.’

  ‘So – how was he?’ Grace asked.

  ‘We don’t really know any more yet—’

  ‘They wouldn’t let us see him,’ Rose burst out. ‘Next of kin, but I bet they’d’ve let Peggy in if she’d gone.’

  There was a note of reproach in her tone that the other two women could not fail to hear.

  ‘She’s not fit,’ Mary said gently. ‘She’ll go as soon as she can.’

  Rose buried her nose in her mug of cocoa. She wasn’t too sure. She’d seen the way that Peggy had looked up at the soldier.

  Seventeen

  The knock at the door came early on the Saturday. Peggy, still in her dressing gown, was sitting near the kitchen fire. Mary and Rose had reported for duty though there was little they could do: most of the city’s transport system was at a standstill. So, Grace, grumbling beneath her breath, was the one to open the door.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she smiled up at the dark-haired soldier. ‘Come in, do.’

  ‘I just called to see how Peggy is. And her young man,’ he added, striving to be circumspect. He didn’t want any of them guessing the real reason for his visit today, that he hadn’t been able to get Peggy’s pretty face out of his mind.

  Grace held the door open wider and he stepped inside. She glanced up at him and smiled. ‘You didn’t find your cap then?’

  Terry grimaced. ‘No, I’ll be for it when I get back to camp tomorrow night. That’s if I can get there at all. I don’t know what trains are running.’

  ‘Surely not? You were caught up in a bombing incident. You can’t be blamed for your cap going missing.’

  Terry laughed. ‘You don’t know my sergeant. He’ll likely think it’s an excuse.’

  ‘Well, you refer him to me if you have any trouble. I’ll give him what for. Come on through. Peggy’ – she raised her voice as she ushered him into the living room – ‘are you decent? You’ve got a visitor.’

  Peggy, who’d been dozing by the fire, opened her eyes and blinked. ‘Oh! Hello.’ There was no mistaking the blush that tinged her cheeks as she sat up and pulled the dressing gown more closely around her.

  ‘Sit down, sit down.’ Grace almost pushed him into the armchair that was usually her seat. ‘I’m busy washing up.’

  ‘Can I help?’

  ‘No, no, you sit and chat to Peggy till I’m done.’ Her eyes twinkled at him with a merriment that Peggy hadn’t seen in her grandmother’s eyes for a long time – if ever. If she hadn’t known better, she’d’ve thought Grace was flirting with the young soldier.

  When the door into the kitchen closed, Terry smiled at Peggy and asked softly, ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Much better. I ought to be back at work really.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing. Besides, you’re supposed to go back to the hospital today to have the dressing changed, aren’t you?’

  Peggy nodded. ‘Mam’s going with me when she gets home.’

  ‘I could go with you.’

  ‘Oh – well – that’s kind of you, but I don’t want to take up your time.’

  Terry shrugged. ‘I’ve nothing – else to do.’ He’d almost said ‘nothing better to do’, but he’d altered the word just in time. He didn’t want to push his luck too far, too soon. ‘And anyway, there aren’t many trams running. I’ve walked all the way here.

  ‘You go and get dressed while I help your gran finish off in there and then I’ll get you to the hospital somehow. And,’ he added with more generosity than he was feeling, ‘you can find out how your feller’s doing.’

  Peggy gave a weak smile as she got up and went towards the door into the hall. Terry went into the kitchen to explain their plans. ‘Now, Mrs Sylvester, where’s a tea towel?’

  ‘’Tisn’t Mrs Sylvester. I’m Mary’s mother. It’s Mrs Booth.’

  ‘Oh, sorry.’

  ‘You weren’t to know.’

  They’d finished the washing up together and were sitting by the fireside when Peggy came down. Terry rose to his feet at once. ‘You look a lot better already, don’t you think so, Mrs Booth?’

  ‘Mm.’ Grace eyed her granddaughter suspiciously. She couldn’t tell whether this was because she was on her way to see Bob or because she was going out on the arm of a very handsome soldier.

  Grace had the shrewd suspicion it was the latter.

  They had to wait for Peggy’s wound to be cleaned and redressed, so it was some time before she was able to ask about Bob.

  ‘I’ll wait outside,’ Terry offered. ‘They might let you see him if they know you were in the bombing too. And that you’re his girl.’

  When she joined him near the hospital entrance only a few minutes later, she shook her head. ‘Visiting’s just finished for this afternoon, but I did find out one thing. His injury’s not as bad as they feared. They think he might have a hairline fracture of the skull, but it’s nothing to worry about. He will be off work for a while, but there’s certainly no permanent damage.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news,’ Terry said, trying to inject genuine pleasure into his tone. Not that he wished the poor bloke any harm; far from it, but he wouldn’t have minded Bob being out of the way for a little while longer. At least until he could wangle another leave, because Terry had made up his mind that he was going to try his luck with Peggy. In a way it was better that Bob wasn’t seriously injured. Terry would have felt a heel if he’d nicked the bloke’s girlfriend while he was lying in hospital. At least, this way, it would be a fair fight.

  ‘Come on,’ he said putting his arm around her waist. ‘Let’s get you home. I expect you’re still feeling a bit wobbly.’

  ‘I am rather,’ she agreed. Making no effort to remove his arm, Peggy allowed him to steer her towards the bus stop. They waited ages until one appeared, but it could only take them part of the way. The city streets were so badly damaged that the public transport system – both buses and trams – was in chaos.

  ‘I’ll see if I can grab a taxi.’

  ‘No – no,’ Peggy insisted. ‘If – if I could just take your arm and we walk slowly, I’ll be fine.’

  Terry smiled down at her and offered his arm, his heart leaping with hope.

  Mary had arrived home by the time they got back, and Terry was still there when Rose came in.

  ‘Oh!’ She stopped in surprise when she saw all the family – and Terry Price – seated round the tea table. ‘You’re here,’ she said unnecessarily.

  ‘Terry’s been very kind,’ Grace said, getting up to fetch Rose’s meal, which was keeping hot in the range oven. ‘He took Peggy to the hospital and brought her home again.’

  ‘What about Bob?’ The question was more than just asking after him and they all knew it, but Peggy chose to ignore the further insinuation in her sister’s question. How is he? the question implied, but also what about your boyfriend when you’re sitting round the tea table all cosy with another feller?

  Having washed her hands, Rose sat down and picked up her knife and fork. Her face was like thunder and she kept her eyes firmly fixed on her plate. The others had finished their meal and Mary turned to Myrtle. ‘You may leave the table, if you’ve homework to do.’

  Myrtle smiled and glanced from Peggy to Terry and then to Rose’s furious face. ‘Haven’t got any,’ Myrtle said promptly. ‘Our school’s been turned into a rest centre,’ she went on to explain. ‘When the head heard that all buildings which could take a lot of people were needed, all the staff volunteered to help the homeless. Our classrooms are housing people who’ve been bombed out. Some of them’ – she paused dramatically – ‘have lost everything but the clothes they stand up in
.’

  ‘And what about your lessons?’

  Myrtle shrugged, ‘Suspended for the time being. All the pupils have been running messages and helping to organize food, clothes and bedding for them.’

  ‘You mean they’re going to sleep there?’ Rose asked.

  Myrtle shrugged in a matter-of-fact manner. ‘Where else?’

  Rose blinked, but couldn’t think of an answer.

  ‘Well,’ Grace remarked dryly, ‘for someone who made such a fuss about schools closing when war broke out, you’re taking this remarkably calmly.’

  ‘This is different, Gran. People need help and it’s quite nice to be doing something useful for once. They’re all so grateful to us for looking after them and folks from round about have been marvellous,’ Myrtle went on. ‘They’ve brought food and clothing to the school. Some women even brought prams for the babies. And two of the classrooms were turned into sick bays.’

  ‘Now, you just be careful, Myrtle,’ Mary began, but Myrtle dismissed her mother’s worries with a wave of her hand. ‘It was for people who’d got minor injuries. One family had been trapped in their cellar when their house collapsed. It took eight hours to dig them out.’

  ‘I wondered why you’d gone out this morning dressed in your school uniform. I didn’t realize until after you’d gone that it’s Saturday today.’ Grace shook her head and sighed. ‘I’ve just lost track of the days.’

  ‘So,’ Myrtle went on, ‘I’m helping out in the sick bay.’

  Myrtle liked a bit of drama and now it looked as if there might be some at home as well as at her school. She’d no intention of going up to her room if things were likely to get lively. Myrtle’s homework was useful when there were chores to be excused from, or she preferred to be on her own reading in bed rather than listening to what she considered the inane chatter of her sisters. Make-up, hairstyles and boyfriends had no appeal for the sixteen-year-old, though she admitted that Terry was handsome – very handsome. He was just the sort that she’d go for when she was older. But that would be when she was much older and she’d mind he had a better job than working on a city building site, which was where Terry at this very moment was telling them he’d worked until he’d joined up.

  ‘I felt I had to do my bit this time round. My father fought in the last lot. He volunteered when he was only seventeen – right at the beginning in 1914. Can you imagine that?’

  Mary’s face sobered. ‘My husband volunteered too, but he was very badly injured. He – he was never the same again.’

  ‘You should never have married him, Mary—’

  ‘Mother – not in front of the girls.’

  Grace waved her hand dismissively. ‘They know my opinion about their father. Oh, he was a good sort – I’ll never say different – but when he came back from the war he was a broken man.’ She glanced at Terry. ‘He never worked again – not properly – but he could still sire bairns for us to struggle to bring up.’

  ‘Mother, please!’ Mary’s face reddened.

  Terry touched her hand with a gentle, sympathetic gesture.

  Oh, he’s clever, Rose thought malevolently. Making up to Mam now, whilst still having his eye on the main chance. But I can see through you, Mr Price. I’m watching you. For some strange reason, it didn’t even cross Rose’s mind that if Terry were to entice Peggy away from Bob, then the field would be left open for her. All the girl could think was: Bob is going to be so desperately hurt.

  ‘We were luckier,’ Terry was saying. ‘Dad came back without a scratch, though he did end the war with what they now call shell-shock.’

  Mary’s eyes filled with understanding. ‘Ted had that too. That was almost worse than the physical injuries.’

  There was silence around the table; Myrtle was still watching Terry whilst Rose was trying valiantly not to look at him.

  At last he got up, thanked Grace and Mary for their hospitality and said he must be going, but they could all tell that he was reluctant to leave.

  ‘I’ll call again tomorrow before I leave for camp,’ he asked and then added politely, ‘if I may?’

  Rose opened her mouth to protest, but Peggy said quickly, ‘Of course.’

  Eighteen

  ‘My, you look a mess. What on earth have you been doing?’ Grace said bluntly when she opened the door to Terry the following afternoon.

  Terry’s eyes were dark, ringed with weariness, his uniform dusty, as he followed Grace into the living room and slumped into a chair at the table. But his gaze went at once to Peggy. ‘I’ve been up all night.’ His voice was hoarse, his words hesitant. Peggy’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh no! Your family! They’re not – they’re not—?’ She dared not say the word.

  But Terry shook his head. ‘No, they’re fine. Thank God. No, I’ve just been out with the rescuers. Being in uniform, they let me help. We’re been digging folks out from under their wrecked homes.’ He paused a moment before saying flatly, ‘Most of the time it was just bringing out bodies.’ Then his tone was lighter as he added, ‘But we did find several still alive. The best bit was when we found kiddies. Frightened and dirty, but still alive. That was the very best.’ Now his voice was husky with emotion as he went on, ‘But then I went to the Marples Hotel.’ Peggy gasped and stared wide-eyed at him. ‘It’s dreadful there. A lot of people were sheltering in the cellars when it took a direct hit. They never had a chance. There’s only a handful been brought out alive. It’s – horrific.’ They were all silent for a few moments, as if paying tribute to all those who had died.

  ‘The centre of the city is destroyed. There’s hardly a building untouched. Many are still smouldering. No end of trams are wrecked. I saw one lying in two pieces, its top deck completely severed from the bottom. Several are burned out and the wires are just a tangled mess. A lot of the big stores are in ruins and many lovely old buildings are gone forever and yet—’

  ‘Yes?’ Peggy whispered.

  He smiled slowly. ‘Folks are still trying to carry on. Men are walking to work – that’s if they’ve work to go to when they get there. Rescue centres are springing up and the WVS are out with their vehicles, handing out cups of tea to the rescue parties and to the men who’ve already started on the repairs.’ He shook his head. ‘We took a hell of a battering on Thursday night, but he didn’t destroy our spirit. I’ve never been more proud to be a Sheffielder.’

  Grace pulled herself out of her chair. ‘Would you like a wash in the bathroom, lad? If you don’t mind carrying up a bucket of water. It’s cold, I’m afraid, but you’re welcome.’

  ‘I don’t want to use your water. You’re having to fetch it from mobile tanks just now, aren’t you?’

  ‘We’ll soon get some more.’ She chuckled. ‘Rose and Myrtle are the water carriers until the supply’s back on. Up you go. There’s clean towels in the airing cupboard. You’ll see it. Help yourself.’

  ‘I have to get back to camp tonight and I daren’t be late.’ Terry laughed wryly when he came downstairs again. He looked cleaner but his face was still grey with tiredness, his eyes haunted by the sights he’d seen. ‘I’m going to be in enough trouble for losing my cap.’

  ‘I could write to your sergeant,’ Peggy offered. ‘If it would help. Tell him what happened.’

  Terry rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘That’s sweet of you, but I think he’ll believe me. He knows I live in Sheffield and he’ll have heard about the bombing.’

  ‘Where are you stationed?’

  Terry laughed again and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Now, now, asking questions. Careless talk and all that. I’ll be thinking you’re a beautiful spy.’

  Rose was about to get up to leave the room – she couldn’t bear to watch the obvious flirting between the two of them – when another knock came at the front door.

  Grace frowned. ‘It’s like the centre of town on a Saturday night,’ she muttered.

  Rose pulled a face and murmured, ‘Not just now, it isn’t, Gran.’

  Grace buried her head
in her newspaper.

  A few moments later Rose ushered Laurence into the living room. ‘I just called to see how Peggy is and to let you know the latest news. Work is progressing on restoring the tracks and overhead cables, but it’s a slow job. They’ve already got a couple of routes open, but not ours, I’m afraid. A few buses are able to operate, but I understand that it’s the electricity supply that’s causing the major problem now for our trams and with so many cars beyond repair, we’re trying to get replacements from other cities. Bradford and Newcastle may be able to let us have some, but I expect it’ll be a while before we get them. So, a few more days off at least.’

  ‘Not for you, I bet,’ Mary said softly.

  ‘Well, no, that’s true. I feel I have to be at the depot in case I’m needed.’

  ‘What about other members of staff?’ Rose asked, her chagrin at Terry’s continued presence forgotten for the moment in her concern for her colleagues. ‘Was anyone hurt – I mean, worse than Peggy and Bob?’

  Laurence’s face was grim. ‘I’m afraid so. In fact, two were killed. No one from our depot,’ he hastened to add, ‘but it feels as if we’ve lost members of our extended family.’

  ‘What about Jack?’ Rose asked about the motorman she worked with the most. ‘I did see him that night but is he all right? And Alice? Is she safe? I – I left her at the cinema,’ Rose added, feeling guilty now that she had deserted her friend.

  ‘All fine, thank goodness, though I understand the street where Alice lives was badly damaged. No, Peggy and Bob were our only casualties.’ He smiled at Peggy. ‘How are you feeling now?’

  Peggy smiled tremulously. ‘Still a bit unsteady, if I’m honest.’

  ‘There’s no need for you to worry about coming back to work. There isn’t any for you at the moment.’ He stood up. ‘I must be going.’

  Rose glanced at Terry, almost willing him to say that he must go too, but he avoided meeting her hostile gaze. Terry knew exactly what Rose felt about him, but he wasn’t going to let her spoil his plans. He was certain that Peggy’s heart didn’t belong to Bob and he meant to win her. His only problem was that he wasn’t going to be here very often and Bob was here all the time.