Tin Hats and Gas Masks (17 page)

Annie and Johnny moved into Lamont Street two weeks later. True to his word Charlie Bookman had lightened the place with some cream-coloured paint he got from a friend who had had it stored since before the war. His wife had put up some net curtains at the little window that afforded the glimpses of the lower half of people walking along the pavement.

‘Later, I'll dye our blackout curtains if I can,' she said. ‘They'll be warmer in the winter and we ought ter be able to do them bottle-green or a darkish blue if I bleach 'em first. Doubt if we'll get em lighter than that but they'll keep the draughts out.'

She and her daughter-in-law, Doris, also scrubbed the floors and black-leaded the grate until it shone. They refused to let Annie do any of this. ‘You've got to think of the baby, and anyway we're more used to it than you,' Maggie said. Annie couldn't take offence at that because she knew it was true. On her own she would not have
known where to begin, but she insisted she could clean the sink and stove, and set to with a will.

Annie was thankful she still had her job, because, apart from the money she earned, it got her out of those poky rooms for most of the day.

In August the Allies dropped the first atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagaski and a week later, on 14 August the war with Japan finished. The next day, 15 August, became a public holiday to be known as VJ Day (Victory in Japan).

They both went to work as usual, only to return after a while, fighting their way home with thousands of others, who did not realize that this was to be a public holiday. It had been announced at almost midnight and again on the early-morning news, but as Annie and Johnny didn't possess a wireless set they didn't know. Neither had any desire to go out celebrating but later in the day they went round to Johnny's parents for a few hours.

‘Doris has gone to her mum's,' Maggie Bookman said. ‘Now she'll be counting the days 'til Jim gets home. It was written all over her face.'

‘It could be some time, duck,' Charlie said, ‘but reckon we'll all be glad to see 'im back.'

About five o'clock Johnny said he was going to his evening job in the café, ‘Because this morning the boss said that so many places will be closed it'll mean we'll do good business. He's promised me double pay if I work tonight until the revellers have gone home, Annie. You'll be all right, won't you? And we do need the money, my darling.'

‘Of course, Johnny. I'll be fine. I've an interesting book and I'll probably have an early night. Got your key?'

‘Yes. You could go round to mum and dad's if you get lonely. Don't think they're going out. Mum said she'd celebrated in May, but I think Doris's family are going to a knees-up.' He kissed her lingeringly. ‘I'll come in quietly, 'case you're asleep.'

During the evening she heard and saw the revellers along the street, and memories of VE night when she and Johnny went up to Trafalgar Square returned. Sighing deeply she patted her stomach and thought, I want this baby, more than anything I want Johnny's child, but I wish we had waited. That it didn't have to be like this, with no money, a tumbledown place in a poor area to live, and no prospects for the immediate future.

She wouldn't burden Johnny with these sombre thoughts, but she privately faced the knowledge that life was going to be a struggle for a long, long time.

All was quiet outside when she went to bed. Obviously most of the revellers had gone up West, and with a deep sigh she pulled the thin sheet over herself and closed her eyes. She tried to imagine what it would be like and how she would manage when she had a baby to put in the basket crib Maggie Bookman had lovingly restored and given to her.

A noise woke her sometime around midnight and she became aware that there were people in the basement area outside. They were obviously drunk, and were singing and shouting obscenities. Lying very still she wished Johnny were home with her. Although perhaps not, she thought, for he would surely want to go out and tackle them. One thing; it was a sturdy door and it was locked so they couldn't
get in unless they broke a window. The laughter and loud voices continued for a while, and she thought she heard the flap on the letter-box slap into place. Suddenly there was more shouting and what sounded like a stampede up the area steps. She held her breath and an enormous bang made her clutch her stomach as she rolled out of bed and found herself doubled up on the floor. Her last thought as she lost consciousness was that it was a bomb and she was buried beneath the debris of the café near the Palladium and she couldn't find Johnny or his mum.

When Annie came to she was cradled in Johnny's arms in an unfamiliar room.

‘Johnny, what happened? Was it – was it a bomb. Is the war not over after all?'

‘It's all right, Annie. You're fine, you weren't injured, thank God. No, not a bomb, a bloody firework some idiots pushed through the letterbox.'

‘Here's Edie,' someone said, ‘good as a doctor is Edie. She knows what it's all about. Let her have a look at you, duck. You've 'ad a bit of a shock.'

Edie felt her all over, looked at her tongue and deeply into her eyes, asked if she felt any pains, then declared her to be ‘None the worse for it all,' patted her hand and left.

‘She's a good 'un, is Edie,' someone said. ‘Now, 'ave you two youngsters got anywhere ter go ternight, 'cos that place ain't 'abitable now.'

‘Yes,' Johnny said quickly, ‘we can go to my mum's. It's not far. Come on, Annie, reckon you can manage?'

He helped her to her feet. ‘Thanks,' he said to the neighbours in whose house they were.

‘Yes, thank you,' Annie said, ‘we're very grateful.' She saw the strange looks they gave her as she and Johnny walked towards the door.

The Bookmans took it all in their stride when they were woken in the early hours of the morning by Johnny and Annie, and at three a.m. they were sitting drinking tea and listening to how Johnny arrived home from work to see half a dozen drunken lads coming up the area steps from his house.

‘Within seconds there was this explosion,' he said, ‘I pushed me elbow through the window and climbed in to find Annie in a heap on the floor and the place on fire.

‘It's in a bit of a mess,' he said. ‘Everyone sloshing water all over the place, but it put the fire out and I'll go round tomorrer and sort it out.'

‘The baby's still kicking though,' Annie said.

‘Thank God. You take it easy now, Annie, and let us take care of you for a while,' Mrs Bookman said. Suddenly she noticed Johnny's arm.

‘You're hurt, son,' she said. ‘Here, let me look.' It was quite a deep cut he had sustained when he took more glass out to get Annie through the window.

‘Couldn't get out the door,' he said, ‘it was on fire. Don't fuss Mum, it's nothing much – I wrapped me hankie round it when I went back to help them. Dipped it in the water and tied it up. That soon stopped the bleeding.'

Mrs Bookman cleaned the wound and Annie felt guilty that while everyone was making sure she and the baby were not injured Johnny had been and she hadn't even noticed. They slept in each other's arms in Johnny's bed for
what was left of the night.

It was nearly a week before they could return to the basement flat, after Charlie Bookman had helped his son get it shipshape again and Annie promised herself that once the child was born and she could walk and run again instead of waddle everywhere, she would sort something out about finding somewhere better for them to live.

She dreamt one night that they were in Bushton, by the river, and had their own little business with a row of boats for hire … Why not? she thought, when she woke and it was still vivid in her mind. We both liked it there and now the war's over people will be wanting holidays. If Johnny can find work there for a while, one day it could be more than a dream.

Annie carried on with her job until a week before the baby was due. Then, enveloped in one of the pretty smocks Johnny's mum had made for her and with a suitcase filled with nappies, matinée jackets, tiny wrapover vests and nightgowns, bootees and little romper-suits she left London for the Sussex village and Aunt Bessie. The case had been presented to her a few days before and was a gift from them all. The entire family had been knitting and sewing to give this first grandchild his or her layette. Annie herself had knitted a couple of tiny garments, under Mrs B's guidance, and felt proud of her efforts. All her life, if they had needed something they had gone to a shop and bought it, but Johnny's family almost always made it themselves, even unravelling old garments, putting the wool into skeins to be washed, before winding it into balls for re-using. Annie had never done anything like that
before and at first didn't know what Johnny's mum was talking about when she said, ‘Hold your hands out for five minutes, love, so I can undo this jumper.'

Mrs Bookman was a fast worker and Annie marvelled as the knitted rows of the old garment were wound round her outstretched hands at a terrific speed.

‘It's all crinkly,' she said, ‘won't it look funny?'

‘Bless you, no Annie. Once it's washed and dried it will knit up a treat. Nice soft wool this and as it's lemon it'll do for a boy or a girl.'

Johnny went with her on the Sunday morning, returning in time to get to his evening job. ‘There's no need,' she said. ‘We could save the fare because it isn't as though you can stop long.'

‘Poo, bloody poo,' he said, ‘you don't think I'll let you go alone, do you?' Laughing, she hugged him. ‘I expect someone would have insisted on coming, but I'm glad it's you, Johnny. I'll miss you, you know.'

‘I jolly well hope so. Aunt Bessie's got a phone so I'll be able to talk to you. Can ring from the box on the corner. You're not scared, are you, gal?'

She shook her head. ‘No, well, not much. A little, if I'm honest. But your mum says the pain is one you forget quickly. It's not like an illness. Once the baby's out the worst pain is over, that's what she said.'

They were silent for a few moments, then, her voice quiet, she said, ‘In a while, maybe a few months, I'd like to tell my father he's a grandad. I thought I could telephone the hospital after the baby's born to see how he is, and maybe talk to the doctor about his condition. He's going on
fine and should be going home soon. I don't know what my mother is going to tell him to account for my absence but once I know he's better I'd like him to know about us and about our baby.'

Johnny kissed her. ‘After we're married. That's the time I reckon. Then you can tell him you're married to me and we now have a child. He will be welcome in our home, wherever it is, Annie, any time. He's a real gentleman. Remember when you introduced us outside Buckingham Palace that day, he shook my hand. But your mother will not be welcome, Annie. I'll never forgive her for the way she's treated you. If you ever want to see her it'll have to be without me. To turn you out like that …' His eyes flashed, cold as steel, and then suddenly he said, ‘What on earth are we doing, reviving old scores? We're on the way to being a real family, Annie, you, me and the bump.' Gently he touched her stomach. ‘Won't be long now gal – remember you said once you were glad you weren't a man, well I'll tell you this for nothing, I'm very glad I'm not a woman.'

She smiled at him, then became serious again as she returned to her theme.

‘If they won't let us marry until I'm twenty-one, Johnny, it will be five years and I'd like my dad to know before then.'

He thumped his head dramatically with his hand,

‘'Course you would, and we'll tell him, just as soon as it's safe to. When the doc says we can, how about that?'

‘Mmm. All right.'

‘Listen Annie, I've bin wanting to say this but didn't know how. I know we said we wouldn't 'cos it seems like
cheating, but – well, I've thought about it all a lot lately and I've changed me mind. I'll marry you prop'ly, in a church, just as soon as it's possible. Meanwhile,' he fumbled in his pocket and brought out a small, white leather pouch, ‘you don't have to wear it if you don't want to.…'

She took the gold band from its soft casing, her thumping heart suddenly still. ‘Oh, Johnny. Yes, of course I'll wear it.'

‘You don't mind – that I had second thoughts, like. See, I don't want anyone saying things about you Annie, specially when I'm not there to protect you.'

She swallowed hard, more ashamed than ever before in her life, of what she had thought he was about to say, about changing his mind. Blinking away the tears that threatened she handed the plain gold band to him.

‘Here, will you – will you say the words?'

Awkwardly he took her hand. ‘With this ring.…'

That night, by her single bed in Aunt Bessie's pretty spare room Annie knelt and prayed for her family. Johnny, her father, Johnny's mum and dad and his brothers and sister-in-law, for Aunt Bessie who had welcomed her into her home, and lastly for her mother, that somehow she might find peace, because Annie knew already that there was no way that she could abandon the child now kicking inside her, the child that was the result of their love for each other.

Annie's labour began early one morning, a little after six, and by ten o'clock Bessie had called the midwife. Between them they massaged her back and tried to keep her
comfortable. She spoke to Johnny at midday when he telephoned during his lunch break. She tried to sound cheerful and confident but it wasn't easy. A huge pain caught her as they said their farewells and she was sweating as Aunt Bessie took the phone from her and told Johnny not to worry, everything was going well.