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Authors: Rosie Goodwin

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

BOOK: The Soldier's Daughter
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Briony stifled a giggle as she listened to the woman rant on, but deep down she knew that they didn’t really have a lot to be happy about.

The newspapers weren’t giving them much to smile about either. Early in January, it was reported that two million young men in London between the ages of nineteen and twenty-seven had received their call-up papers, and things looked grim when the Germans gained ground in a fierce onslaught along a 120-mile front north of Paris.

‘It’ll be us they come after next, you just mark my words,’ Mrs Brindley said with conviction, and a ripple of pure terror coursed up Briony’s spine.

When it was further reported on 9 January that 152 people had lost their lives when the
Union Castle
liner was sunk by a mine off the south-east coast, the public began to realise that the threat of invasion by Hitler’s army was drawing closer. The country now lived in fear.

Things were no better at work either; Woolworths was operating on a skeleton staff. Now that so many men had been called up, women were taking their jobs and many of them had left the store in order to work in munitions factories.

‘It’s hardly worth turnin’ in to work,’ Ruth told Briony one evening on their way home. ‘There’s nothin’ worth sellin’ anyway, an’ I just wonder how much longer the place will stay open for. Yer can’t even get a decent pair o’ stockin’s any more, they’re like gold dust.’ She looked down at her legs and the unbecoming lisle stockings, the only ones that were available, and Briony knew that she was right and could only nod in agreement. Since her father had returned to his unit her spirits were low and it felt as if all she ever did was work. She was missing Ernie too and this made her feel guilty because she knew how much Ruth cared for him. Life seemed to be very complicated at present and sometimes she wished she could just hide her head under the covers and stay in bed all day. But of course that wasn’t possible. What would happen to her mum and the children if she gave in to her depression? Lois wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was drinking heavily any more, and most evenings by the time Briony got home she would be in a stupor, leaving the children to fend for themselves. The girl doubted that tonight would be any different and she was proved right when she entered the kitchen to find a state of pandemonium.

The children were screeching excitedly about something whilst their mother dozed in the chair at the side of the fire.

‘So what’s all the excitement about then?’ Briony asked as she took her coat off.

‘We found this on our way home from school,’ Alfie told her as he held up a tiny, furry body – and Briony’s heart sank. It was a ginger kitten, very sweet admittedly, but the last thing she needed to take on at present.

‘Oh, and what does Mum think about it?’

Alfie shrugged as Sarah hopped happily from foot to foot. ‘Don’t know. We asked her if we could keep him when we got in from school but she was asleep and she ain’t woken up yet.’


What?
You mean you walked home from school all by yourselves?’ Briony was desperately trying to keep the shock from her voice but failing dismally.

Alfie’s face fell as he clutched the kitten to him. ‘Yes, we did,’ he muttered. ‘Mum wasn’t there to meet me so I waited by the gate for Sarah and walked home with her.’

‘I see.’ Briony forced a smile. The fire had almost burned out and she knew that she would have to see to it straight away else valuable time would be wasted having to relight it. As she had expected, the coal scuttle was empty, so after glaring at her mother’s comatose figure she snatched it up and marched back out to the coal-house, telling Alfie, ‘I need to see to the fire and get the dinner on the go then we’ll talk about the kitten, all right?’

He nodded and her heart lurched as she saw the tears brimming in his eyes. She was filling the scuttle when Mrs Brindley’s back door across the yard opened and she hissed, ‘Is everythin’ all right, luvvie?’

‘Not really,’ Briony answered, throwing some more coal into the bucket.

‘Well, I could do wi’ havin’ a little word on the quiet with yer, pet,’ Mrs Brindley said timidly. ‘Would yer just step inside fer a minute?’

Sighing, Briony crossed the yard and walked into Mrs Brindley’s kitchen, wondering what was so important that the woman had to speak to her straight away.

‘The thing is . . .’ Mrs Brindley looked decidedly uncomfortable. ‘There ain’t no easy way to say this but I’d rather yer heard it from me than somebody else so I’ll just come out with it. It appears that yer mam got the sack from her job this morning.’

‘But
why?
’ Briony gasped.

‘Well, from what I could make of what the women outside the shop were gossipin’ about, it seems she turned into work smellin’ o’ drink an’ wobblin’ about all over the place. Apparently it weren’t the first time, so Mr Finn told her he’d not be needin’ her any more . . . I’m so sorry, love.’

‘It’s not your fault and I appreciate you telling me,’ Briony said dully. ‘To be honest I’ve been expecting something like this.’

Mrs Brindley patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. ‘If there’s anythin’ I can do, yer only have to ask.’ She felt desperately sorry for the girl and more than a little angry at her mother. From where she was standing it seemed that just because Briony was the firstborn, she had to take the weight of the family on her shoulders.

‘I’d better get back,’ Briony said. ‘I’ve got the children’s dinners to see to. Goodnight, Mrs Brindley.’

‘Night, luvvie.’ Mrs Brindley watched Briony cross the yard again and lift the heavy scuttle before closing her back door with a heavy sigh.

The meal, which was a hastily put-together concoction of mashed potatoes and corned beef, was a solemn affair and when it was over Alfie asked tentatively, ‘So can we keep the kitten then, Briony?’

‘I suppose we shall have to wait and see what Mum has to say about it. It’s not really up to me, and you know Mum isn’t really that keen on pets,’ she answered. Lois had snored her way through the entire meal and Briony had left her dinner in the oven to keep warm. But then, seeing the children’s crestfallen faces, she looked at the kitten, which was fast asleep in front of the fire, and relented. It was a lovely little thing and she supposed it wouldn’t be too much trouble. ‘Leave it with me and I’ll see if I can’t talk her round.’

‘Oh
thanks
, Briony, you’re the best sister in the whole world.’ Alfie covered the space between them in two leaps and wrapped his arms about her neck, closely followed by his sister.

Briony chuckled. ‘I’m very pleased you think so, but come on . . . it’s time for bed now and if the kitten is staying I shall have to feed him and find him a box for him to sleep in while you two get undressed and have a wash. Oh, and you’d better start thinking of a name for him as well if he’s going to be living here. We can’t just call him “Cat”, can we?’

Highly delighted, the children scooted away to do as they were told. Their bedrooms were bitterly cold but Briony had made them both a hot-water bottle.

‘Tommy at school reckons it might snow this week,’ Alfie informed her as she tucked the blankets up to his chin and bent to kiss him. He slept in the tiny boxroom at the back of the house.

‘I think your pal Tommy could be right,’ Briony shivered. ‘It’s certainly cold enough and if it does, I’ll have to get your sledge out of the shed for you.’

She then went to tuck Sarah in to the double bed that they shared. ‘You won’t forget to feed the kitten, will you?’ the little girl asked sleepily as Briony kissed her goodnight.

‘I certainly won’t,’ Briony promised, stepping out onto the landing. It was then that her shoulders sagged. They would miss the small wage that Lois had earned, and now it seemed they had a cat to care for too – but then, she asked herself, how much can one little kitten cost to feed?

Her mother was stirring when Briony got back downstairs and the girl glared at her as she began to clear the pots from the table. There was all the washing-up to do before she even thought of getting the children’s clothes ready for school the next day.

‘What time is it?’ Lois asked groggily as she heaved herself up in the chair.

‘It’s evening,’ Briony answered shortly as she headed for the sink with her hands full of dirty dishes. ‘And if you want your dinner it’s in the oven, although it’ll probably be dried up by now.’

Lois stared at her daughter uncertainly. She had never heard Briony use that tone of voice to her before, but then as the events of the day slowly came back to her, she said guiltily, ‘I’m afraid Mr Finn told me today that he wouldn’t be needing me any more.’

‘I know that,’ Briony snapped. ‘And I know
why
too.’

‘Oh.’ Lois looked so forlorn that Briony felt herself softening, but she wasn’t done with her yet.

‘You didn’t meet the children from school either,’ she accused. ‘How would you have felt if anything had happened to either of them, Mum? Dad would go mad if he knew that they were having to make their own way home. Alfie is just five years old!’

To Briony’s horror her mother promptly burst into tears. ‘I know he would. Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m just a poor apology for a mother, aren’t I? But I just can’t seem to function properly without your dad.’

‘We all miss him, Mum,’ Briony said soberly. ‘But we have to try and keep on and make him proud of us. And the thing is . . . Well, I’m worried about your drinking. It seems to be getting out of hand.’

Lois knew that she was right. Her head was thumping and her mouth felt like the bottom of a birdcage. However, desperate to make amends, she said, ‘Leave that washing-up to me. If I’m going to be at home all day from now on, it’s time I did my share of the work. You go and put your feet up, love. You’ve been rushing about all day.’ It was then that her eyes fell on the kitten still curled up fast asleep on the hearthrug and she gasped in horror as her hand flew to her throat. ‘What is that creature doing in here?’

‘It’s a kitten that the children found on their way home from school. Someone must have abandoned it and they’ve adopted it,’ Briony said steadily.

‘But . . . but it could have all manner of diseases. It might even have
fleas
!’ Lois said in disgust. ‘And animals need feeding and looking after!’

‘I don’t think you’ll need to worry too much about that. The children adore him already and he can have our leftovers so he won’t cost much to keep. I’m just about to find a box for him to sleep in.’

Lois gulped as she eyed the new family member. She had no doubt that it would break the children’s hearts if she made them give him up now, but then cats were known for wandering, weren’t they? So perhaps it would be best to keep quiet and let him out when the children had gone to school. He’d no doubt wander off back to where he’d come from, with any luck.

‘All right then, he can stay for the moment,’ she said reluctantly and Briony heaved a silent sigh of relief.

‘And I’m going to change from now on,’ Lois added as she walked unsteadily towards the sink to tackle the pile of dirty pots. ‘There will be a nice hot dinner on the table for you when you get in from work tomorrow, you just wait and see.’

Briony grinned ruefully. It was hard to stay angry with her mother for long because she didn’t really mean any harm and the girl knew that she loved them all. It was just that Lois had not been brought up to put other people first. Perhaps this will be a turning point, she thought to herself as she settled down in the chair in front of the fire to read the paper. But she wouldn’t hold her breath.

Over the next few days Lois did make an effort. Briony came home to find a meal of sorts ready, and although the children complained about the lumpy mash and burnt offerings, Briony praised her. ‘You’ll get better at cooking,’ she said warmly. Lois had even tackled the ironing, although she had put almost as many creases in to the clothes as she had taken out of them, but still, at least she was trying. She appeared to be laying off the alcohol too, for which Briony was truly thankful, and she had resumed meeting the children from school as well.

The kitten remained, despite Lois’s best efforts to shoo it outside each day, and the children had named him Tigger, which suited him somehow. So all in all, Briony was daring to feel a little better about things. Even Mr Trimble had stopped scolding her at work now that she wasn’t so tired, and she had gone back to being the efficient worker he had known.

And then everything suddenly went pear-shaped again when she returned home from work one evening to find her mother in floods of tears, clutching a letter.

‘It’s from your father,’ she told Briony on a sob. ‘He says how much he is missing us all but he doesn’t say when he might be able to come home on leave again, and what’s more, there are rumours that they might be shipped out somewhere.’

‘Does he have any idea where they might be sent?’ Briony asked gravely, but Lois could only shake her head.

‘No. None of them know, apparently, and they’d not be allowed to say, I expect – but what if he gets sent into the firing line? I won’t be able to bear it if anything happens to him.’

Briony didn’t think she would be able to bear it either, but she was wise enough not to say that to her mother. Instead she said stoically, ‘Well, we’ve just got to get on with things here, Mum. There’s nothing anyone can do about it.’

She then set about preparing a meal and while she was busy peeling potatoes, her mother slipped out. Briony had a sinking feeling that she might have gone to the local off-licence, and her fears were confirmed when Lois returned with a brown paper bag with two bottles in it.

‘It’s only something to get me through this evening,’ Lois told her shamefacedly. ‘I don’t think I shall be able to sleep if I don’t have a little drink.’

Briony sighed. They were back to square one.

Chapter Seven

On 9 April 1940 news reached England of the German invasion of Norway and Sweden. On 10 May Hitler’s troops then also invaded Belgium and Holland. The newspapers were full of stories about the hardships that had been inflicted on the people there.

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