Till the Sun Shines Through (36 page)

‘I can't give you any more,' Bridie said. ‘It takes me all my time …'

Peggy continued as if she hadn't spoke. ‘Good boy, my Denis. Always tipped his pay up. Even when he joined the army, he sent his ma something. But he's gone now and his da too – I suppose you heard what that silly sod did. Not that he ever gave me much, stingy bugger he was, and too fond of the beer. Still, he gave me something and now that's gone – and we can't live on thin air, Bridie.'

‘Neither can I!' Bridie cried. ‘You should have plenty coming in: you have Polly and Luke working at Dunlop's, and Theresa at Cadbury's, and Patricia is leaving school next year.' She could have gone on to say Peggy could get a job herself, for the government were crying out for people in all kinds of jobs, but thought better of it. She appealed to Peggy. ‘Where the Hell am I to get a pound a week?'

‘That's not my problem.'

‘God, Peggy, I haven't got it. There's no way I could spare a pound a week.'

‘Well, you'd better find a way,' Peggy said, ‘for I'll be back next week and if I don't leave with a pound note in my hand, I'll write a nice wee letter to your parents.'

Peggy had no intention of writing to Bridie's parents – the money she extracted from her was too useful – but she enjoyed watching her squirm and she knew Bridie couldn't take the chance that she wouldn't write. She left Bridie's with a smile on her face. One of the neighbours, catching sight of it, remarked to another with a slight shiver, ‘God, some poor sod must have got it in the neck – the only reason that woman smiles is when she's made someone else bloody miserable.'

All night Bridie wrestled with the problem of finding a spare pound a week to still Peggy's tongue. She could only imagine the letter she'd write. She went hot and cold just thinking about it. She pictured the shock and disbelief on her parents' faces, the hurt and disappointment that they would carry to the grave.

Eventually, she realised what she must do. Hadn't she begun to feel that she should do more to help the war effort anyway? Well, this was her chance and the only way to get enough cash to supplement the McKenna household. She decided to seek Mary's opinion in the morning.

But Mary had other things on her mind. That morning a letter had arrived from Eddie. He was in the same hospital as Tom, but in a different section. Neither had any idea the other was even alive as they'd got split up during the rescue.

‘We must write to tell them,' Mary said, her face aglow, though her eyes streamed tears. ‘Oh Bridie, I really thought he was dead after all this time.'

‘Well, he isn't,' Bridie said, hugging her sister in delight. ‘We'll go and tell Ellen in a minute, but now, if you can think straight for just a minute, I'd like to know what you think of my idea.'

‘What's that?'

‘I'm planning on getting a job in a munitions factory.'

‘Munitions!' Mary cried. ‘Why on earth would you be wanting a job there?'

‘Well, army pay doesn't go far.'

‘Not with you, it doesn't seem to,' Mary snapped. ‘I've never known such a one for wasting money. You can never make Tom's pay stretch. I get the same as you now, don't forget, and I'm able to manage.'

Ah, but would you manage so well if you had to put ten shillings a week aside for a blackmailer, Bridie longed to say, but she couldn't and took the rebuke from Mary silently.

Instead, she tried another tack. ‘It's not just money though, is it?' she said. ‘All men between eighteen and forty-one are being called up and many of them were previously making things for the war. Well, it's no good having soldiers if they have no ammunition. Look how much was left behind on the beaches at Dunkirk. We can't fight a war without armaments and lots of women work in such places.'

Mary knew Bridie had a point there, but Liam was still so wee. ‘What about Liam?' she asked. ‘Surely you're not expecting Ellen …'

‘Of course not,' Bridie said. ‘I know he'd be too much for Ellen. She's not getting any younger, I know that as well as you.'

‘Then who?'

‘No one,' Bridie said. ‘I was thinking of a nursery. They have one in Rea Street and people say the mothers who work in war-related industries get priority.'

‘A nursery?' Mary said. ‘I'm not sure …'

‘I am,' Bridie said. ‘It would do Liam good. There would be children to play with and it would get him away from the dirty streets and courtyards. Your Jay could leave him down in the morning and then take Katie on to school. It could be done, Mary, and if you see to them after school …'

‘I might be going with you,' Mary said. ‘A little extra money wouldn't go amiss and I'd feel as if I were pulling my weight. But I'd like to talk it over with Eddie first and you should discuss it with Tom.'

There wasn't time for that, but Mary wasn't aware of Bridie's urgency for money. ‘I don't want to bother Tom with this,' she said. ‘He's still recovering and I don't want him worrying about me. I'll tell him, certainly, but I want it all signed and sealed by then. I'm going up now to see about it. Really, Tom won't mind.'

Mary knew that; he didn't mind anything if it pleased Bridie. The man would get the moon from the sky for her if she so desired it. Mary wondered if her sister realised how loving and kind Tom was. Eddie was a good husband and father and she had no complaints, but Tom seemed to adore Bridie. But she decided to go along with her sister that day and find out about the nursery and all. She found it just as Bridie said. The nursery was prepared to offer a place to Liam if any work Bridie took up was related to the war effort.

They both noticed how little Liam's face had lit up at the large array of toys, but he made no effort to play with anything, or speak to any of the children, but just watched them shyly, as he held tight to his mother's hand, while she talked to the teacher, Mrs Walton.

Liam's large eyes grew even larger as they were shown around the brightly-painted rooms, the walls covered with children's artwork. Noticing Liam's interest, Mrs Walton asked, ‘Do you like to paint, Liam?'

Liam nodded his head. He supposed he did, though he'd done precious little of it, but he'd like to have a go and he looked joyfully at the children doing just that at the easels. They were covered with apron things around them and yet they still had paint all over their hands and one girl even had a smear of blue across her face. Liam waited for Mrs Walton to tell the children off for making such a mess, but nobody did.

Mrs Walton, passing by the easels as she led the way to the playground, stopped by the painting done by the little girl with the blue-smeared face and said, ‘What a lovely blue sky you have done, Margaret.'

‘I like blue,' Margaret said. ‘It's my favourite colour. What's yours?' she demanded of Liam.

He shrugged. No one had ever asked him such a thing before. ‘Dunno.'

‘You going to come here and play?'

‘Dunno.'

‘Dunno much do you?' the little girl said scornfully, and then added, ‘If you come here, you can be my friend if you like. D'you want to?'

Liam shrugged again and was about to say ‘Dunno' when he remembered the little girl making fun of him the last time he'd done that. ‘Don't care,' he said and then as the little girl pouted at his words, he added, ‘If you like,' and they smiled at each other before Liam hurried after his mother and Mrs Walton, who had made their way outside.

When he saw all the tricycles and the trucks in the playground and the grassed area with the slide and swings, he felt excitement tingle all the way down to his toes. He wished he could leap after the other children who seemed to be enjoying themselves so much. ‘Can you just play with them?' he asked Mrs Walton.

‘Of course.'

But Liam had to be sure. ‘For nowt like?'

‘Yes, Liam, for nothing,' Mrs Walton said with a smile, and Liam gave a sigh of contentment.

After that, Bridie hardly even had to ask Liam as they made their way home. ‘Would you like to go there?'

He nodded eagerly. ‘Every day?'

‘Aye. Well, except Saturday and Sunday.'

‘Can I play with all the toys and things?'

‘Of course you can.'

‘Can I paint and that, even if I get it all over me, like?'

‘There are aprons to wear.'

Liam thought of the little girl Margaret and how she had paint everywhere, despite the apron, and said doubtfully, ‘Yeah, but if I got paint on me, they wouldn't tell me off, would they?'

Bridie gave a little laugh. ‘No,' she said and Mary added, ‘I shouldn't think you could paint much without making a mess, Liam.'

‘And those other kids, there, they won't bash me if I join in?'

‘No, not at all. They'll play with you.'

‘Oh,' Liam said, and he thought about Margaret who said she would be his friend and smiled as he said, ‘All right then, I think I'll go.'

Mary and Bridie laughed. ‘First hurdle over,' Mary said. ‘Now we just have to get a job.'

But that was even easier for two women who didn't care what they did and the next day Bridie and Mary got a job making shell cases at Wainwright's Guns, a small factory in Cregoe Street, starting on Monday. This was what Bridie told Peggy when she came around the next week. ‘I can't raise a pound this week,' she said. ‘I can't give you what I haven't got. But when I get paid next week, I'll have the money for you.'

Peggy knew she'd get the money. Bridie was too frightened not to pay her so she said, ‘All right, I'll do with ten bob for now and I'll give you one more week. If you haven't the money for me next week … Well, let's just say I warned you.'

‘I will,' Bridie promised desperately. ‘I'll put it up as soon as I have my wages.'

Bridie wrote to Tom, as Mary had insisted, telling him of her decision to work in a munitions factory. She told him Liam's reaction to going to nursery and how, with Jay's help and Ellen's offer to see to them in the evening till she came home, it could be achieved easily.

Tom didn't mind Bridie taking a job, but really he would have preferred her, Mary and the children out of it altogether. But he knew it was no good asking her to reconsider, she'd only refuse.

He understood her decision to want to work towards the war effort. Things were so dire, it helped somehow to be doing your bit, and so he told her he was proud of her doing war work as long as she didn't wear herself out. He said too that he'd been delighted to learn that Eddie was alive and well and had gone over to see him. He also said they'd both be home before too long and sent his love to her and the children.

Three days after Tom wrote his letter, bombs fell in West Bromwich. They caused structural damage, although no loss of life, but it put paid to the people who thought Birmingham was safe being two hundred miles inland. Birmingham braced itself for a bombing campaign, for the city made so much for the war effort from Dunlop's making tyres in the north to Cadbury's in the south where cordite was put into rockets rather than soft centres into chocolates. The jewellery quarter was another area where the deft hands that set diamonds had been adapted to the fine and delicate work of making radar. The car factories hid shadow factories making military vehicles and, in the case of Vickers, Wellingtons and Spitfires. Birmingham guns were famous the world over. And then there were the small factories everywhere, churning out all manner of materials – Birmingham was a prime target.

‘Hitler's intent on invasion, all right,' Sam said one evening, when Bridie and Mary had called in for the children. ‘But our navy is stronger than theirs, he'll try to demoralise the people first, see. He's got a lot to learn, Hitler. When the British have their backs to the wall, they fight harder than ever.'

‘And he won't get it all his own way either,' Ellen put in. ‘Our air force will stop him.'

Bridie hoped Ellen was right. So far, nothing had stopped the madman.

Bridie found it was a mad rush each morning to get herself and the children up and dressed and fed in time for her to get to the factory on time. She didn't know how she'd have managed without Mary and Ellen, for often they would pop in to give her a hand. Then they'd leave Katie in with Jay and Mickey until it was time to take her to school, and drop Liam at the nursery on their way to work.

The children settled well into the new routine. Katie did not object to staying with her cousins for a wee while before school and they were seldom averse to playing a game to amuse her.

After school, Jay, Mickey and Katie would go back to Ellen's until their mothers came home and she would always have a little snack for them when they came in: a few scones she'd made, or bread and a smear of precious jam, or dripping toast. Ellen would even make time to lift Katie onto her knee and help her learn the words she'd been sent home with, or listen to her stumble her way through a reading book.

Liam's nursery opened longer hours to fit in with factory times, but he didn't seem to mind being away from his mother for so long, and when Mary and Bridie collected him in the evening, he was usually clutching pictures he'd painted, or models he'd made, which Bridie would display proudly around the room.

It was a good job the children were fine about everything, for Bridie felt the factory was very trying at first. She hated the green overalls she had to wear and the big thick boots, and the way she had to roll her hair up under a turban.

She found the place dirty, noisy and smelly and everything she touched seemed to be covered in oil. The work was boring too and the hours long, and the noise far too great for there to be much chit-chat between the women. Bridie was unnerved by some of the women, who seemed to shout a lot, and swear and smoke like any man and often wore lipstick so red, it was like a scarlet slash across their faces.