A Family Christmas (46 page)

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Authors: Glenice Crossland

BOOK: A Family Christmas
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‘I know. But I’m sure it won’t be for long.’ Lucy mashed a pot of tea. ‘Come on, let’s have a cuppa. And just think what it’ll be like when he comes home: just like a second honeymoon.’

‘Lucy Grey, is that all you think about?’

‘Not all, but a lot of the time.’ The sisters laughed. Once again Lucy had smoothed things over.

It was the following Sunday when the news came and even though it was expected the shock was still as great. Reverend Goodman made the announcement during morning service. Lucy heard it on the wireless whilst mixing Yorkshire puddings for Sunday dinner. Bernard hurried up the banking to the allotments where John was gathering beans and mint for the potatoes.

‘Dad, the war’s started.’ He was so excited he fell head-first over the cucumber frame. Lewis Marshall left the garden fork sticking in the ground and came over to John.

‘So it’s started then?’

‘Sounds like it, Lewis.’

‘When will the soldiers be here, Dad?’

‘Here? Never I hope, son.’

Bernard, disappointed, wandered off to the hens. It didn’t look as though the war would be as exciting as he had expected.

That night the blackout began, with the gas lamps switched off and inside lights to be obscured. Places of entertainment were closed and British Summer Time extended for six weeks in order to reduce the number of accidents expected to be caused by the blackout.

As Bernard had said, the war had started and it wasn’t exciting; it was scary.

‘The job’ll be waiting when tha comes back, Robbie.’

‘Thanks, Mr Grundy. I shall look forward to coming back.’

‘I’ve been ’aving a natter wi’ my missis and when tha comes back we’ve decided it’ll be on a different footing.’

‘Oh! Am I not giving satisfaction?’

‘Don’t talk so daft, Robbie. It’s because I’m so satisfied that we’ve decided to mek yer a partner.’

Robbie almost hit his thumb with the hammer. ‘A partner? No, hold on, Mr Grundy. I won’t have enough savings to buy a partnership, not with just furnishing the cottage.’

‘Who said owt about payment? I didn’t buy this business. My old father started it and ee worked bloody hard and ee made a lot of money, and when I started working for ’im I worked bloody ’ard as well. And me father, God rest ’is soul, wasn’t one to part wi’ owt, so I ’ad to wait till he’d gone before I got what was due to me. But by heck, I got a shock when I knew what ee was worth. I’m a rich man, Robbie, but I worked bloody ’ard for it, and you’re a hard worker an’ all. Now I ’aven’t a son to pass it on to, so we’ve decided that you’re the next best thing. So we’ve made a will and left the bulk of it to you. Wi’ a few exceptions, charities mainly. Now I don’t want thee to wait until I’ve gone before tha gets it. I want to see thee and Dot enjoy some of it. So I’m making thee a partner until the time when I finally hang up me hammer.’

Robbie felt so emotional he wanted to cry. ‘I don’t know what to say. Only that I shall carry on working just as hard if I come back.’

‘What do yer mean, if? When, lad, not if. Just one thing, though.’

‘Anything.’

‘Will yer ask Dot if she’ll pay a visit occasionally whilst you’re away? Only it’s the missis. She’s going to miss thee, and it’d be a bit of company for her.’

‘Course she will. She’ll enjoy coming to see you both.’

‘Right then, we’d better get this ’ere coffin finished or poor owd Fred’ll ’ave to be buried up to’t neck in muck.’

They carried on, one working on the coffin and one on the lid, both wrapped up in their own thoughts of what the future might bring.

Chapter Thirty-one

WITH THE TWINS
now at school and only Andrew at home Lucy could have been taking things easy. Instead she began looking after a few of the children from the rows – children whose fathers were fighting for their country and whose mothers were finding it difficult to make ends meet. One of the mothers went into the steelworks as a crane driver and another into the wire department. James had been right: women were doing his job and doing it just as well.

For the first time since her marriage Lucy was thankful that John was a collier. Though the news of an accident at Hatfield Colliery – when a cage fell a hundred feet to the bottom of a shaft, injuring sixty miners – had filled her with panic. Another six men had been killed at a pit in Nottingham just before Christmas. Lucy realised that being a miner wasn’t much safer than being a soldier, but at least John could come home to her and the children at the end of a shift.

At the end of January Lewis came to see Lucy. ‘I’ve just come to tell you I’ve enlisted, Lucy. I’m off tomorrow.’

‘Oh, why? You’re a key worker. You don’t need to go.’

‘I do. There’s nowt for me here. It’d be different if I were married, but that’ll never happen. The lass I loved went and married somebody else.’

‘Oh, Lewis. I’m sorry.’

‘No, you mustn’t be sorry; you’re happy with John and that’s all I care about. He’s a good man. But it hasn’t stopped me loving you. So I’m off.’

‘Lewis, I do love you in a way. If I hadn’t met John things might have been different.’

‘Maybe, but you did meet him. So like I said, I’m off.’

‘Well, take care.’

‘Aye. You too.’ Lewis came towards her and gently kissed her, and for the first time Lucy didn’t pull away.

Lewis grinned. ‘It’s worth going, if only for that. A kiss at last. Yippee!’

‘Lewis Marshall, you get dafter.’ Lucy knew that if she didn’t laugh she would cry. They stood quietly looking at each other, then Lewis walked away, leaving behind the girl he had loved since she was ten years old. It was the last time Lucy was to see Lewis; he was killed somewhere on the French coast four months later.

Before long Lucy had six little ones as well as her own in her care. Sometimes the mothers gave Lucy a shilling or two to pay for their midday meal; sometimes they didn’t. She never complained and
everyone
on the rows agreed that Lucy Grey was an angel. All the children called her Auntie Lucy and would have preferred to stay there in her warm loving care rather than go home. Only very rarely did John complain and that was when he thought his wife looked tired and needed a rest. ‘People don’t rest when there’s a war on,’ Lucy said, and carried on. John knew better than to argue with Lucy Grey.

When Tom Johnson came home on leave, looking smart and handsome in his air force blue, Nellie was the proudest woman in Blackpool. Tom’s father was coping admirably with the filling station, not that there was much to do with the petrol rationing in force. Still, there was enough trade to keep him and a young apprentice occupied. Besides, Tom thought there would be a boom in the car trade after the war. ‘Got to keep it going for little Henry,’ he said.

The guest house was just about paying its way. The boarders were mainly show people, now the theatres had been allowed to reopen. The general opinion was that wartime Britain needed entertaining in order to boost morale. Sometimes soldiers turned up with a young woman needing a room for the weekend. Lily would whisper to Nellie about them not being married and giggle when they yawned and decided on an early night. Nellie would turn a blind eye; who was she to deny a soldier his comfort? They might not be alive tomorrow.

The sergeant major had proved a true friend to Nellie. He had more or less taken over from Mrs Cooper in the care of little Henry. He would march the little boy along the prom, issuing orders such as ‘tummy in, shoulders back, left, right, left, right’. Henry thrived on the friendship in his father’s absence. Nellie thought Duke was gaining as much benefit as her son from the relationship. Being too old for war service didn’t sit well on the shoulders of a man who had made the armed forces his career. Duke was also missing Mrs Cooper and the chats they had enjoyed about their younger days. Nellie was glad Henry was diverting his thoughts and giving him a purpose in life.

Lily’s Jim was somewhere in France, but with Phoebe for company the two girls seemed happy enough. They went dancing on the Central Pier, sometimes with soldiers, but both girls made it clear that dancing was the only thing they were there for. The cinema was their main source of entertainment – especially the newsreels, where they searched the faces, hoping for a glimpse of their sweethearts. It was on one of those visits that Lily decided she needed to be doing something more useful with her life.

‘I’ve decided to join up,’ she whispered.

‘What?’

‘I’ve decided to join up.’

‘You can’t.’

‘Shush,’ the woman in the row behind them warned.

‘I can.’

‘What will Nellie do?’

‘She doesn’t really need me with only the regulars. I expect she’ll be relieved if she doesn’t have to pay me.’

‘Lily, please don’t go. It’s dangerous.’

‘Be quiet please!’ hissed the woman.

‘Well it’s dangerous for the lads an’ all but they’ve gone. We want the war to be over so we’ve got to help finish it.’

The usherette came down the aisle and shone her torch on the two girls. They didn’t speak again until the end of the film. Then Phoebe didn’t have much to say.

‘It’s no good yer sulking. I’m joining the land army.’

‘So yer not kidding? You’re determined.’

‘I am.’

‘I’m not stopping ’ere on me own. I’ll come with yer.’

‘Really?’ Lily hugged Phoebe and they danced the Palais Glide all the way along Albert Road and back again. A few days later, amongst much protesting from Nellie and cries of ‘Bravo’ from Duke, Lily promised she’d be back when the war was over and people began taking holidays again. Then she kissed little Henry and managed to walk away without crying.

With Henry at the garage all day Margaret Johnson was delighted to take Lily’s place when a waitress happened to be needed.

Fortunately for Lily and Phoebe, the two girls managed to stay together for the duration of the war and Lily couldn’t believe it when she was sent to a farm back in her beloved Yorkshire. Life was hard but the land girls managed to enjoy themselves with dances in the village hall to look forward to on Saturday nights. There were also tears when letters sometimes arrived with news of brothers or sweethearts either missing or killed in action. Lily and Phoebe prayed every night for Jim and Stan to be kept safe. Sadly it wasn’t to be. Both soldiers fell to the enemy, though months apart and in different parts of the world.

Both the guest house and the filling station just about held their own until the end of the war. Then Nellie managed to turn the guest house into one of the most successful hotels on the Lancashire coast. Tom’s garage also went from strength to strength, just as he had predicted.

When Lily did return to Blackpool it was to the memories and for a time she found it difficult to cope with the heartache, but Lily had grown up now; she would get over it. Well Mrs Cooper had, hadn’t she?

Jacob cowered in the corner of the wooden shack. The earth floor was awash with vomit and urine and the air thick with the stench of diarrhoea. It was hard to tell which was worse: the hunger pains when no food was brought to the prisoners, or the
stomach
cramps after eating the disgusting slop that was offered on other days. Sometimes Jacob woke up confused in the pale light of dawn and wondered if he had died and gone to hell. Perhaps that would be preferable to this hell on earth here in the Far East. Then in a more lucid moment he would think of Mary and know she would be waiting on his return.

Once he dreamed she came to find him with a baby in her arms and he woke in tears to find her gone. Another time he felt the closeness of her body and drew her into his embrace, only to wake and find one of his comrades dead in his arms. He hoped his closeness had provided a measure of comfort to the dying soldier. He had cried out on that occasion and had been rewarded with the butt of a rifle thrust into his stomach. Last night he had found himself floating, up on a level with the solitary light bulb, looking down dispassionately at his own skeletal body. He had seen an angel beckoning him, and the temptation had been almost more than he could bear, but Mary had called his name and he had chosen her. Where were the letters she was certain to have written? Maybe she thought he was dead. He imagined her in some civilian’s embrace and experienced a pain so acute he wondered how he would survive it, but no one ever died from heartache, only from the brutality of this bloody war, and the dysentery which was rife amongst the prisoners here in the camp. He thought
of
Mary and the love she had shown him on his last leave. To keep her in mind was the only way he could think of to keep him sane in this godforsaken place.

Reverend Goodman lived up to his name throughout the war, working unceasingly with the city’s homeless during and after the blitz. He comforted the injured and the bereaved both in the shelters and the hospitals. Sometimes Louisa didn’t see him for days on end, so she decided to make herself useful and joined the Women’s Voluntary Services. Serving hot drinks from a mobile canteen she was astounded at the satisfaction she gained, not only from the comfort they gave to the destitute, but from the cameraderie of the other volunteers.

When news came that Prudence had been killed along with three more patients during the bombing of the nursing home in Liverpool, her work provided the salvation she needed. Herbert comforted her with the words that God had been merciful by taking his daughter into His loving care. It was at that time that Louisa’s work took her to the Wharncliffe Hospital, where she helped to care for the soldiers who had returned from overseas. Some of them were shell shocked, others trying to come to terms with a future without arms or legs. Neither Herbert nor Louisa had time to feel sorry for themselves.

When, after the war, Robbie and Dot took their baby son to visit them, Herbert finally felt he was
forgiven
for the wrong he had done them. Baby Arthur was a loving and well-loved child, with not only his Grandma and Grandad Greenwood to shower him with affection, but also the Grundys and Goodmans. Two years later when Dot gave birth to a daughter, Robbie Grey’s life was complete.

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