Custard Tarts and Broken Hearts (32 page)

Lily was now heavily pregnant and today would be her last at Duff’s. Nellie and the other custard tarts had been planning a celebration for weeks and had been gathering together a layette for Lily to take home with her. Nellie left Vauban Street early, to be sure of getting to Duff’s before Lily. She carried a wicker baby basket that her mother had used for all her children. With Alice’s help she had re-lined it, and the plan was to meet Maggie Tyrell in the cloakroom to put together all the gifts. She hurried down to the basement and found Maggie already at work. She was folding a blanket and had a pile of handknitted baby clothes beside her.

‘Look at this, Nell!’ She held up a cardigan and bonnet. ‘Shy Annie knitted ’em, ain’t they sweet!’ Nellie came over to inspect them, holding their softness to her cheek. Maggie looked up, her bony careworn face softening. ‘You’ll have one of your own some day, Nell. Almost makes me want another one…’ Maggie paused, then shuddered. ‘Perhaps not. Once they get to my Lenny’s age they’re terrors!’

Nellie laughed and knelt beside Maggie, glad of the warmth from the boiler room next door. The women had been as generous as they could, and though most of the baby clothes were hand-me-downs, all were spotlessly clean.

‘Do you think Albert would let us give it to her on the factory floor?’ Nellie laid some booties on top of the other things and began tying a length of satin ribbon round the whole basket.

‘Him? Miserable git, you know what he’s like where women with kids are concerned. We’ll just have to do it down here after work.’

Just then Ethel came clattering down the stairs, puffing with exertion. She was carrying a crate of beer. ‘Sod me if I didn’t bump into Albert as I was coming in with this lot!’ she gasped, dropping the crate with a crash on to the nearest bench. ‘Don’t know what’s come over him, he never batted an eyelid!’

Nellie rushed to help Ethel with the crate, which they quickly hid under some old sacking.

‘Better hide this now too.’ Nellie stowed the basket in a store cupboard, and as the cloakroom began to get crowded the three women made their way up to the packing room. Nellie felt an odd mixture of joy and sadness. She was happy for Lily and looking forward to the arrival of the baby, but it would be strange not to have her friend standing next to her each day. Although real conversations were impossible at work, with all the clatter and clamour, to say nothing of the watchful eyes of Albert, they hardly needed to speak. For what made the work bearable were the sympathetic looks when one of them felt down or the muttered jokes and insults directed at Albert; these oiled the machinery of all their long days. She would miss Lily, but for her sake she kept her face bright and her banter flowing all day.

When the hooter finally sounded all the custard tarts turned off the machines and downed packets even more speedily than usual. They surrounded Lily, who looked gratifyingly surprised, and made to sweep her off to the basement. But they were all stopped in their tracks by the intervention of none other than Albert himself.

‘Excuse me, ladies!’ He had to shout through their chatter. ‘Can I have some quiet, please!’

Nellie looked at Ethel in alarm; perhaps he had noticed the beer after all.

‘If he spoils this, I swear I’ll knock his block off!’ Ethel muttered, and Nellie saw her push her sleeves up. Some of the women groaned, fearing the end of their festivities for the day, and Lily, seeing Nellie’s disappointment, squeezed her hand.

‘Never mind, Nell, we’ll go to the Green Ginger later on.’

Nellie smiled weakly back.

‘I’ve got an announcement to make,’ Albert went on. ‘I’m proud to tell you that I have answered the call and I will be leaving to serve King and Country tomorrow!’

There was stunned silence. Albert looked encouragingly around the room – perhaps he expected a fanfare – and Sally from the White Feather League started to clap, which resulted in desultory applause. Albert held up his hand. ‘As you know, the men of Duff’s have been among the first to sign up, which means we are running short and will have to rely on you women to struggle as best you can without us!’ Albert smirked.

‘Is he joking?’ Nellie whispered to Lily.

‘So I’m pleased to announce that your new foreman will, in fact, be a forelady, Ethel Brown!’

All eyes flew to Ethel.

‘Sod me!’ Ethel blurted out, as surprised as all the rest of them. Albert gave her a disapproving look, but said nothing other than, ‘You’ll find the ledgers all in order, Ethel. Good luck to you all.’ And he stood at the double doors, nodding goodbye to each of them. Nellie felt she ought to salute, but instead shook his hand and wished him good luck. For all his faults, she could not send him off with bad feeling; after all, he might never be coming back.

They kept their delight under control until they reached the basement, but once in the cloakroom their celebrations were less than clandestine. There were cries of congratulations for Ethel, laughter at Albert’s expense, and delight at the crate of beer sequestered beneath the sacking. Lily sat smiling on a bench, calm and radiant, with her hand on her stomach.

‘Oh, Nell, you couldn’t have planned a better send-off. I felt a bit guilty leaving you here on your own, but at least you’ll be rid of Albert!’

It was Saturday afternoon. Lily had been gone for over a week and although it had been strange without her, Ethel soon made it clear things would run very differently in the packing room from now on. At the end of each day they had all fulfilled their quotas, without once being terrorized or humiliated. Nellie had to smile at Albert’s idea of them ‘struggling on’ without him; in fact, they were doing very well indeed.

Nellie put on her coat and set off on the penny-farthing for her delivery round. The discounted Co-op bread and groceries were in even greater demand these days; the war had sent food prices rocketing and the Labour Institute could barely cope. They’d asked Nellie to do more hours, but with her growing family she was already stretched to the limits of her time and endurance. She pedalled determinedly through her round and with relief turned the bicycle towards Rotherhithe to make her last delivery at Jock’s father’s shop, above which Lily was still living.

When Nellie arrived at the chandler’s shop, out of breath and chilled to the bone, she stowed the penny-farthing in the back yard and mounted an outside flight of wooden steps which led up to Lily’s rooms above the shop. She knocked and called out, ‘Lil, it’s only me, don’t rush!’ She waited patiently, her breath pluming in the cold December air.

Lily, with only a month left of her pregnancy, was beginning to look as wide as she was tall. Nellie privately believed there had to be more than one baby in there, but she didn’t dare mention it to her friend. Her nerves were raw enough and her once ready smile came less often since Jock had gone. She answered the door after a few minutes and threw her arms round Nellie, as though she hadn’t seen her for months.

‘Come in out the cold, love, you’re perishing. Oh, it’s so nice to see a friendly face!’ She rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘His mum and dad are driving me potty over this baby. Sooner Jock gets back, the better!’

The friends buoyed each other up with hopes that the boys would be home before the baby was born in January.

‘What’s happened now?’ asked Nellie, as she began putting Lily’s groceries away in her kitchen cupboard.

‘They say the back stairs is too dangerous for me and they want me to live downstairs with them!’ Jock’s parents’ home on the ground floor sprawled out behind the shop and round the yard. ‘I know it’s their first grandchild but, gawd, you’d think I was carrying Bonnie Prince Charlie, the way they go on!’

Nellie had been careful herself as she’d negotiated the steep back steps, coated as they were with a rime of frost. She could see the McBrides might have a point.

‘I suppose they’re only being kind, Lil.’

‘Don’t you start taking their side. I’ve had enough of it with Jock saying I should live with them till he gets back.’

Lily sat down heavily on the wooden kitchen chair and Nellie set about making them tea.‘Have you heard from Jock? I didn’t get anything from Sam.’

‘A postcard yesterday.’ She seemed to hesitate. ‘I expect yours’ll come soon, love.’ Lily pulled her shawl closer around her and shivered, in spite of the fire burning in the little grate.‘They’ve had their marching orders, they’re shipping out next week.’

Nellie carefully put the two cups of tea on the table, but they rattled in the saucers as she tried to steady her hands. She sat down at the table next to her friend, feeling as though Lily had punched all the air out of her lungs. How could they comfort each other now? The threads that held Sam and Jock to them had just stretched as taut as an anchor chain on a full tide.

‘Next week?’ she said weakly. ‘Why no warning?’

Lily shrugged. ‘Suppose they needed to keep it hush-hush. We’ll have to get used to being the last to know anything.’ Lily put a protective hand on to her swollen stomach, as though shielding her child from the news. Nellie noticed the gesture and took her friend’s hand.

‘He’ll be home soon and till then you’re not on your own, love. There’s your mum and dad, and you know you can call on me any time.’

‘Thanks, Nell, but you’ve got your hands full, with that brood of yours. Anyway, how are they all getting on?’

‘Oh, Charlie’s fitted in fine with the boys. Freddie puts his nose out of joint sometimes, trying to boss him. You know our Fred, he’s always got to be the one in charge, but Charlie can stand up to him. Bobby’s so easygoing, he just lets them get on with it.’

‘What about the little canary?’

The family nickname had stuck. It suited Matty’s quick bright ways. She seemed like a flitting ray of sunshine about the house and her songs could always lift Nellie’s spirits.

‘Oh, she’s missing Sam, but she can be a little madam sometimes! She got used to ruling the roost, with her mum being so ill, and Sam spoils her rotten. Mind you, she’s sharp as ninepence… and she’s got a good heart, like Sam.’

Nellie’s voice faltered at the mention of his name and then it was Lily’s turn to comfort her. After they had both finished shedding tears and drinking tea, the subject turned to Lily’s family. Her brother Ginger had also enlisted and their mother Betty had taken it particularly badly.

‘I swear to you, Nell, if she could have tied him to the kitchen table to stop him going, she would’ve. She’s shed enough tears over our Ted, but it’s hard to lose two sons.’

The subject of Ted wasn’t an awkward one for them any longer. Nellie had often tried to fathom how it was that such an inconstant, volatile man had so captivated her; in the end she settled in her mind that he was simply a painful mistake, the memory of which she preferred not to resurrect. But sometimes, as now, she would be ambushed by him and whenever that happened she was flooded with unease. Her deepest fear was that if she ever met him again, she would still feel the old draw. She didn’t want to ask about Ted, didn’t want to know where he was, or what he was doing, but he was, after all, Lily’s brother.

‘Do you know what Ted’s doing about the war? Will he come back to sign up?’

Lily’s face was suffused with an uncharacteristic blush. ‘Gawd knows, Nell. Last we heard he was still in Russia, but he don’t even write to Mum any more. Could be dead, for all we know. Sometimes I think it might be best if he was.’

‘Oh, Lil, don’t say that. Then your poor mum’s heart really would be broken.’

‘Too late, Nell, it already is.’ Lily’s bitterness would not be assuaged by any comforting lies.

‘I don’t think your mum would agree with you there. He can always come back from Russia, but last I heard, love, there’s no coming back from the dead.’

When Nellie returned to Vauban Street the house was unusually silent. She had come in at the back door, after leaving the penny-farthing in the yard. She had expected to find Alice in the scullery: usually on Saturday evenings her sister was responsible for preparing the tea in time for Nellie’s return from her round. She went through into the kitchen and immediately noticed the postcard propped on the mantleshelf. Matty was sitting alone at the kitchen table, slicing a loaf, and when Nellie saw her puffy eyes and red nose, she knew the postcard was from Sam.

‘Hello, all on your own?’ She kissed Matty’s cheek. It was damp and salty.

Matty nodded and sucked in a breath. ‘Alice had to go down the “Blue” for a few bits,’ she said, doggedly slicing away.

‘I think you’ve done enough there to feed an army,’ said Nellie gently, immediately regretting the military reference, which tipped Matty over the edge. The young girl let the knife clatter to the table and pointed to the postcard.

‘Sam’s going to France!’ she sobbed.

Nellie plucked the card from the shelf. There was Sam’s fluent, firm handwriting, telling her what she already knew. He would take the train from Waterloo early next Friday and then a troop ship to France.

‘Can we go and see him off?’ Matty pleaded.

Nellie took Matty in her arms, but the girl was inconsolable. Nellie knew that somehow she must try to catch Sam in all the melee of departing troops, if not for her own sake then at least for Matty’s.

‘We’ll be lucky to see him, there’ll be thousands of them… but we’ll give it a damn good try, eh, Matty?’

Nellie was rewarded with a hug and a wet kiss. She read the card again.

‘He says they’re marching through to Waterloo Thursday night and sleeping on the station. I’ll find out the best place to see them go by. I’m sure you and Charlie can have the afternoon off school. All I’ve got to do is persuade Ethel to cover for me.’

Now that Ethel Brown was Nellie’s new forelady, life had become much pleasanter for all the custard tarts. Not only was she rigidly fair with the overtime hours, unlike Albert, more importantly she understood that sometimes a sick child really was a valid reason for a woman’s absence from work. Nellie had little doubt that Ethel would agree to an unofficial afternoon off.

At work on Monday, Maggie Tyrell was the one to tell her which was the best place to see the troops as they marched through south London on their way to Waterloo. Maggie’s husband Tom would be amongst them. When Maggie first suggested her husband might sign up, Nellie had been surprised. ‘Surely no one would think badly of Tom if he didn’t, not with six kids to worry about!’ she’d said.