Shipyard Girls at War, page 32
All seemed well. At least on the surface.
But if an outsider were to take a peek underneath the veneer of apparent wellbeing at 34 Tatham Street, they would be privy to a very different scenario.
Certainly in the case of Bel and Joe.
Since they had shared a kiss, they had both been in turmoil, although neither had spoken to anyone else about what had occurred between the two of them, nor had they uttered a word to each other about what had passed between them that night.
They had both managed to keep up very convincing appearances of outward normality. The only giveaway being that the two of them were rarely in the house at the same time.
Bel had been glad of the pandemonium created by ‘Aggie’s Nursery’, which was now bursting at the seams thanks to the start of the school holidays. Juggling the childcare and the endless quantities of sheets and tablecloths and just about anything and everything else that could be laundered, she hadn’t a minute to spare, and was happy to collapse into bed at night at around the same time she put Lucille down, which also gave her the very plausible excuse not to stay up chatting as she would normally have done with Joe.
The lack of physical let-up from work was bearable for Bel, as she had always been a hard grafter and had good stamina, despite her slender build. It was the unrelenting mental machinations which she found to be an almost unbearable burden. Her mind just never seemed to switch off.
Every night she would lie in bed and her thoughts would follow the same sequence. They would argue the case against any kind of possible relationship with her brother-in-law. And the reasons were countless:
He’s Teddy’s brother.
How could I do this to Teddy’s memory?
God, what would Teddy think if he had seen us both that night?
What would everyone else think?
Bel desperately tried to recall the passion she had shared with her husband: his touch, their love-making, their kisses; the special times they had spent together. But it was hard, and Bel had to admit she struggled to truly recall those feelings – the reality of those moments. It had been almost two years since she had even heard his voice, never mind felt his touch, and it now seemed like another lifetime ago.
So much had happened since he had left for war. Their whole lives had changed … Even the physical appearance of their town had changed – Joe had commented on that a little while ago …
And there it was again.
Her mind weaving its way back to Joe. It was like every pathway she took ended up back at the same spot.
Joe.
There were nights when Bel cried in frustration. Tried to make herself remember Teddy. To blot out her thoughts of Joe with her remembrances of her husband. For heaven’s sake, he had been her childhood love. Her sweetheart. Why couldn’t she keep those memories alive? Time was causing them to disintegrate. To die.
And then Bel’s chest would feel as if it was going to burst as she tried to keep her sobs silent so as not to wake Lucille, or alert the rest of the household to her disturbed emotional state.
Why did you have to die, Teddy? she kept asking.
Again and again her thoughts looped round and round. Endlessly.
And then her mind would tire, and other thoughts would push themselves through the cracks – the little openings that she did not have the energy to hold fast. And her consciousness would drift back to that night.
That kiss.
And her body would heat up and fill with a passion she had not experienced for a long time, and often she would fall asleep with the remembrance of Joe’s lips on her own, kissing her gently.
‘I hope Bel’s all right. And she’s not overdoing it,’ Agnes said to Joe as he got himself ready for another night doing his Home Guard duties. ‘She seems to be sleeping a lot.’
Joe struggled to respond to his mother, other than to agree and say, ‘Aye, I know,’ in a way which suggested that he too was puzzled.
Of course he was well aware why Bel was hitting the sack early most nights. It was the same reason Joe was keeping himself busy during the day. He had even started to give Major Black a hand with all the boring paperwork, and was now also helping out with recruitment because, just like Bel, he could not stop the constant whirring of his mind.
One moment he felt like a skylark soaring high in the sky, elated that Bel had kissed him.
She had loved him back.
He could still recall the smell of Bel’s scent on his skin after their lips had touched and their faces had brushed – and the feel of the gentle impression of her lips on his.
The next moment, though, he would be plummeting down to earth, like a plane spinning out of control after having been shot down, and he would berate himself:
I’ve ruined everything.
Overstepped the mark.
The look on Bel’s face had been as clear as day. A mix of shock, guilt and regret. It had clearly been a mistake on her part. One which she now obviously bitterly regretted.
Or did she?
There was the smallest sliver of ridiculous hope that Bel did have feelings for him. That it had not just been a moment of madness. He had seen the pull of attraction in her eyes, hadn’t he?
Could it be that she loved him back?
But then Joe would admonish himself. This glimmer of light had to be extinguished, for it was an illusion. He was living in a fantasy land if he really believed that this might be the case. He had known all his life that his love for Bel would always remain unrequited.
She had loved his brother and not him.
Joe had to get on with his own life now. He had to allow himself to love someone who loved him back. And Maria did love him back. He had seen Maria just the once since the night of Beryl’s party, due to their conflicting shifts; although, if Joe were honest, if he had really wanted to snatch some time with Maria, he could have made more of an effort to see her.
There was no denying he enjoyed her company and the time they spent together. And he was attracted to her and also admired her. Maria had been determined to be a part of the war effort and had joined the Women’s Auxiliary Army well before the government had ruled that all single women over the age of twenty-one had to do some kind of war work.
But, during their last date, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Bel, and he hated himself for it. Why couldn’t he just allow himself to be happy with someone who was pretty much perfect for him? It was as though he had some kind of mental block which stopped him from enjoying a normal love. And his love for Bel was not normal. She was his brother’s wife. He couldn’t even start to imagine the kind of reaction those near to him would have, if they were to find out how much he coveted his twin’s widow.
And that was what made it all the more hopeless.
Even if Bel did love him back, she would never allow herself to follow her feelings. For Teddy’s sake. And for fear of what others would think, of being reviled for loving her husband’s brother.
No matter which way he looked at it, Joe could only see hopelessness.
And it wasn’t just Joe and Bel who had a secret they wanted to keep well hidden …
‘Ah, how’s my little Tramp? Come here, gorgeous,’ Polly cajoled, giving the dog a pat.
Polly was in the kitchen on her own and was therefore allowing herself free rein to give the dog a cuddle.
Polly was finding it increasingly difficult to keep up her outward appearance of being hard and dismissive towards their new pet, as she secretly loved having the little mite around, and whenever everyone was out, she enjoyed nothing more than giving Tramp lots of love and attention.
As she bent down to stroke the dog, now rotating itself before flopping down at her feet, Polly gave the little collie-cross a slightly inquisitive look.
‘Mm,’ she mused out loud to the empty room as her hands gently felt Tramp’s unusually firm and slightly rotund underbelly.
Chapter Forty-Three
Wednesday 23 July 1941
As DS Miller took a sip of tea, he looked across at Rosie chatting away passionately about her women welders, and felt a wave of nervousness. He had made a promise to himself. And he was determined to keep that promise.
‘Honestly, I’ve never known a woman like her.’ Rosie took a deep breath. She had had another run-in with Helen and was letting off steam.
‘We women should stick together. Bloody hell, we get the short end of the stick in most things in life. As if the work isn’t hard enough without women like her making it even harder still.’
DS Miller nodded his agreement, but his mind kept wandering to the long-anticipated walk home afterwards, and he had to concentrate to keep himself focused.
Rosie had been telling him how Helen had given Hannah a final official warning, and that it looked as if their little bird was going to be chucked out of the nest and left to survive on her own in a land in which she had only just sought refuge.
It was also looking more and more probable that Martha was going to be sent to work permanently with a new squad of riveters. They had a heater, a catcher, and a holder-up, now they just needed a riveter, and it looked as though Martha had been earmarked for the job.
‘She’ll never cope on her own. Martha’s a fantastic workhorse, but she needs to be managed. It’s taken us this long to cajole her out of the closed-off world she lives in most of the time. Now she actually speaks – and she even makes the occasional joke! That’s going to disappear in a puff of smoke if she’s moved to another team. Especially one full of men.’
DS Miller also knew that this would reduce Rosie’s team of women welders down to just three – Polly, Dorothy and Angie. It would only be a matter of time before Helen was able to dispatch the women to other squads and then she would have succeeded in wreaking a part of her planned revenge.
He personally couldn’t understand why the woman was putting so much effort into destroying Rosie’s group of welders. She was never going to get what she really wanted – which was Tommy. From what Rosie had told him, the lad only had eyes for Polly, and she for him. DS Miller had thought they sounded just like he and his wife when they had been younger. Before the cancer had robbed him of her.
But now, here he was, being given a second chance of love. And again he felt the wave of trepidation.
‘And Gloria? All good with her?’ DS Miller asked.
‘Yes, she’s huge now. Just a few more weeks to go.’
‘And still no sign of her husband?’
‘No, thank the lord, although I did hear from one of the lads at work whose girlfriend works with him in the ropery that he was in some kind of scuffle outside his local the other week and turned up for work with quite a shiner.’
Rosie looked directly into the detective’s eyes, adding, ‘I couldn’t help but think it was divine intervention.’
DS Miller returned the look with one Rosie could not read. He made no comment.
Rosie looked down at her watch. ‘Goodness, where does the time go? I’d better get going.’
DS Miller stood up, feeling a sudden flush of nerves, and clumsily knocked the table. He did not think to ask where she was going, or what she had to rush back home for; as far as he knew, Rosie didn’t do overtime. Hopefully, after tonight, he could be freer with his questions, and get to really know her.
As he held the café door open for Rosie, they both turned to quickly wave goodbye to Vera, who nodded back, as her hands were busy pouring out cups of tea.
As they stepped out on to the pavement, DS Miller took Rosie’s hand and he was immediately filled with that wondrous, breathtaking sensation he had whenever he touched her. He desperately needed and wanted to hold her in his arms, to touch her face, her arms, her body. His resolve was firm. He could not keep on simply walking her home and holding her hand. He wanted more. He wanted this woman. All of her. Her mind – and her body. Their weekly meetings were now becoming torturous, as all he wanted to do was love her. Have her as his own. Or at the very least start to court her properly.
When they reached the basement flat, Rosie turned to go, but DS Miller kept hold of her hand. Rosie felt the tug on her arm and turned back to the detective. She felt her heart sink. She had known this was coming. She had sensed something a little amiss about Peter over tea; knew his mind had not been totally on their chatter. She might be a novice when it came to dating and any kind of romance, but she was experienced in the ways of men, and she had seen the flicker of yearning in her detective. The day had come that she had always known would inevitably arrive. It was time to face reality and come out of her Walt Disney world.
Peter wanted to do more than hold hands.
And she did too.
But she couldn’t.
The risks were too great. The consequences could be disastrous for her life. And for the life of her sister – as well as Lily and their business.
She knew she had to sacrifice this blossoming love to ensure her own survival and that of those nearest to her.
‘No, Peter,’ Rosie spoke the words softly, but he saw a hardness in her that he had never observed before. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’
Rosie saw the look of devastation in her suitor’s face, and a part of her wanted to feel his arms around her, to tell him how she really felt, and why this could go no further …
But she did not. Could not.
‘I apologise if you feel I’ve led you on.’ She stumbled through the words she knew she had to say. ‘I’m so very sorry, but this can’t go any further.’
DS Miller stuttered, trying to get words out, but he did not know what words he wanted to say.
‘But.’ He put his arm out as if he wanted to pull her back to him. ‘I don’t … I don’t understand, Rosie.’
He swallowed hard. ‘Why?’ The question came out quietly and with great uncertainty, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he was prepared or wanted to know the answer.
‘I’m sorry, Peter,’ Rosie said. Her own voice sounded hoarse as she struggled to keep the tears that were rising to the surface at bay.
‘I don’t think I can have a proper relationship with anyone … It’s not you.’
‘Why?’ The detective’s voice was now stronger. More confused. ‘I don’t understand. Why can’t you?’
Now DS Miller did want to know, needed to know. Was desperate to know.
And Rosie also desperately wanted him to know that he was the only man she had ever wanted to be close to. But how could she tell him that without him demanding more of an explanation? He would never let her go if he knew that. If he thought there was a chance to win her round. To change her mind.
‘I’m sorry, Peter. I just can’t. You have to accept that. I’m so sorry. I should have said something sooner.’
And with that Rosie pulled her hand away and turned her back on her detective, disappearing down the stairs and into her little flat.
DS Miller stood there for a moment. Stunned.
Had he known this was going to happen?
Was that why he had felt so apprehensive and nervous? Had he somehow sensed it was all going to end? That his hopes of love were to be dashed away. Beaten down. Chucked out of the window.
DS Miller remained standing outside Rosie’s flat, hoping she might have a change of heart and come back out and tell him that she had made a terrible mistake and that she didn’t mean what she had said and that she would be his.
But she didn’t.
After a while he turned and walked away.
His whole body felt numb. His mind frozen in thought.
The only warmth he felt was the lingering imprint of her hand on his as he slowly made his way back home.
Chapter Forty-Four
‘Where’s Kate?’ Rosie demanded loudly to anyone within earshot as she marched through the front door of Lily’s.
Vivian and two of the other girls who were making their way down the wide staircase stopped chatting. There was no mistaking Rosie’s tone of voice. She was angry.
‘I think she’s with Lily upstairs,’ Vivian said, wondering what had caused her normally relaxed and happy boss to appear so irritated. Even when she was upset about something, she was usually as cool as a cucumber; generally nothing much seemed to faze her. And lately she had actually seemed really happy – perhaps even a little in love. If Vivian didn’t know better, she would have believed Rosie had a man in her life.
‘Well, can you go and get her for me, please? And tell Lily she hasn’t got a monopoly on Kate!’
Vivian forced her mouth shut. This was not the time for any backchat. She gave the other two girls she was with a puzzled look, before turning and walking back upstairs to do as she had been told. There was no way, though, that she was going to repeat what Rosie had told her to say to Lily. She had never seen Lily and Rosie exchange cross words and she didn’t want to, either. She knew enough to realise it would not make for a pretty sight. Both her bosses might be as nice as pie most of the time, but all the girls were more than aware that they were both as hard as nails underneath all their finery.
When she arrived at the top room, breathing heavily as she had on a particularly tight corset this evening, Vivian conveyed Rosie’s wishes in as polite a fashion as possible to Lily, whom she had found hunched over a couple of recently acquired dress patterns, Kate making amendments to them with a thick black pencil.
Vivian adored Kate. They all did. They thought she was the sweetest thing, and so incredibly shy, but it was her expertise with the needle that endeared her so much to them all – even more since clothes rationing had been introduced. They just needed to talk her through their vision for a particular kind of dress or skirt, and she would recreate it as if she had seen the picture in her head for real. She wasn’t just a natural, she was a genius when it came to clothes and fashion.
The only problem was that Lily did hog her terribly. Vivian would have liked nothing better than to have relayed Rosie’s accusations to her boss that she totally monopolised Kate, and that she had to share her out a little more, but she knew better.
