Authors: Anne Bennett
The children broke up for the long summer holidays on Thursday and so were at home and willing to mind Ruth while Meg met Joy in the Bull Ring the following day. It meant Meg could avoid the rent man completely if she left early enough.
Since Ruth had bitten Flatterly, Meg had dreaded meeting him again and though she had decided to tell her father nothing of the encounter, she had told the children an edited version and they promised to keep Ruth out of the landlord’s sight. Once Doris took over she would be paying the rent and Meg wished her well of it. Dealing effectively with the lecherous Richard Flatterly was one problem she didn’t mind relinquishing.
So that day she was in the Bull Ring earlier than usual and had a good mooch around the stalls, listening to the banter from the costers as they plied their trade. Eventually she hailed Joy, whom she saw weaving her way towards the Market Hall. A little later over a cup of tea and a sandwich Meg told her friend about her old teacher’s suggestion. Joy thought it sounded just the thing, though she had a somewhat idealised view of what it might be like.
‘Better than a noisy, dirty factory any day of the week,’ she said. ‘Can you imagine it? We’ll be breathing in fresh air for once in our lives.’
‘I won’t,’ Meg said, and told her friend about the party, her father’s reaction to it and her subsequent decision.
‘Oh, what a shame,’ Joy cried. ‘I thought we’d be going together.’
‘I hoped we would,’ Meg said. ‘But you see why I can’t just go off and leave her?’
Joy nodded. ‘I do. I just wish it wasn’t all down to you. It certainly was awful way to treat a child on her birthday … I can’t understand that at all.’
‘He ignores her just as if she isn’t there,’ Meg said. ‘And in his heart I still think he wishes she wasn’t.’
‘Ah, Meg, I feel really sorry for you,’ Joy said.
‘Don’t,’ Meg warned, ‘or I will be in floods of tears.’ And to turn the conversation to another tack she said, ‘So you’re still going ahead with the Land Army, then?’
Joy nodded vigorously. ‘You bet. Never really thought of that side of things but now I quite like the idea of being instrumental in feeding the nation if the country is plunged into war.’
‘Yes, that does sound great,’ Meg said wistfully.
‘What will you do?’
Meg shrugged. ‘Go in the munitions, I suppose – that pays the best – and rent a room or something near to the house. That should suit Doris but I know Dad won’t want me to leave home to live even a short distance away.’
‘Why don’t you stay then?’
‘I can’t,’ Meg said. ‘Doris and I would end up killing one another. Dad chooses to imagine that Doris and I get along fine and that I will stay on at home to give Doris a hand, but that’s not going to happen.’
‘Does your dad always give in to her?’ Joy asked.
‘Yeah, he does. He was never like that with Mom, but she never made demands on him like Doris does and she always deferred to him for the final say. He seemed stronger-willed then, somehow. I mean, I know that he didn’t want Terry to leave home, ’cos I heard him talking about it with Doris. But she eventually convinced him it was a great idea. She mentioned evacuation the other day though I don’t think she knows that much about it at the moment.’
‘Evacuation seems an awful thing to do,’ Joy said. ‘Our area is up for evacuation as well. Mom says it’s criminal to post children around the country in that way.’
‘I agree,’ Meg said. ‘But I bet that eventually Doris will get Dad not only to agree, but also to think it is his idea. Still, sometimes I think that if the children are sent to a “place of safety” and go to live with someone kind, they might be better off than being left with Doris, especially if Dad is called up.’
‘Why is your dad marrying a woman like that?’
‘I have asked myself that same question over and over,’ said Meg. ‘And Dad has given me reasons such as feeling sorry for her and worried that if he didn’t marry her and was called up the children might be taken away – and while all those things are true, I honestly think it is all to do with sex!’
‘Meg!’
‘Well, what else?’ Meg said, unabashed. ‘My aunt Rosie said the same. I mean, isn’t that what the women’s magazines are always on about, “a man’s needs”? As my aunt said, Doris offers Dad comforts that no one else could. He was lonely and she was there and they got together.’
‘She sort of satisfies him, so he ignores all the negative points?’
‘Yeah, that’s it more or less,’ Meg said. ‘He often doesn’t come home at night now, and however we feel about it, or her, we can’t fight anything like that.’
Joy felt immensely sorry for Meg because she wasn’t one to lie or even exaggerate. ‘Oh, Meg,’ she said. ‘I would say you need to be away from that unhappy house and that woman as soon as possible.’ Joy’s words brought Meg up sharp. She had never considered her home as an unhappy one before. It had been when her mother died, for everyone had missed her so much, but Meg had worked hard to alleviate that, and before the arrival of Doris they had been happy. But now that happiness was being slowly eroded.
Everyone at the parachute works had been talking about evacuation all week, some very much for the idea and an equal number against. Doris took no part in the discussion but listened carefully. If what they said was right it was the answer to a prayer for her.
The same day Meg was meeting Joy, Doris took a few hours from work and went into the Town Hall to find out what was what. A very smart lady of middle age, dressed in a black suit and pristine white shirt, could quite understand that she wanted to know what was being proposed, and she hadn’t been the first by any means to make enquiries. ‘Unless parents have made private arrangements schoolchildren will be usually evacuated with the school they attend,’ the woman said. ‘However, a lot depends on where the schools are. Not every school is considered at high risk. We are compiling lists of schools who will be in the evacuations schemes now, and it is voluntary, you understand,’ the women added. ‘Parents are not forced, but it is what the Government are advising.’
‘And a jolly good idea, if you ask me,’ Doris said. ‘And could you tell me if St Catherine’s School is included in this scheme?’
The woman checked the list in front of her and said, ‘Yes, yes, it is. Are you a parent of one of the children at the school, Mrs …?’
Doris didn’t supply her name, but instead said, ‘No, I have no children of my own but I am shortly to be married and my husband-to-be is a widower and has three children in that school. Naturally he is concerned for their safety, especially as, in the event of war, he will in all likelihood be called up.’
‘Yes,’ the woman said. ‘I do understand, and as the children’s natural parent, your husband-to-be will have to sign the forms when the system is in place.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Doris said, knowing she could soon convince Charlie that that was the best plan. ‘And what of those not of school age? My intended’s youngest is not yet five.’
‘It is proposed under-fives are evacuated with their mothers.’
That didn’t suit Doris’s plans at all. ‘Can’t they go with a nursery?’
The woman gave a rueful smile. ‘Not many women would like their very young children to be housed away from them, though there are some plans afoot in special circumstances. Is the child concerned at a nursery?’
‘Not at present.’
‘Then I can do nothing for you,’ the woman said regretfully. ‘As the child’s stepmother you will be entitled to be evacuated with that child but that is all.’
‘I work sewing parachutes,’ Doris said. ‘And if I didn’t have the care of the children I had thought to go into the munitions.’
‘Very commendable,’ the woman said. ‘Mothers with small children, who are engaged in war work, will have priority at the city’s day nurseries. You might easily find the child a place there, but there are no national plans to move the very young away from home.’
It wasn’t what Doris wanted to hear, but the woman couldn’t help her further and so Doris went home deep in thought. Once war was inevitable – and every day that seemed more likely – she could get rid of all Charlie’s children except Ruth, and there was no way she was going to be landed with a snivelling two-year-old. It wasn’t as if Charlie even cared for her. Better for everyone if the child was away in a home somewhere where she could be adopted by people who did love her, and the sooner she convinced Charlie of that the better. She knew the other kids would probably object but they couldn’t stop their father if that’s what he decided, and she’d make sure he saw sense before he was much older.
The following day, Meg’s cousins Anna and Lizzie were married at St Catherine’s Church, which was packed with relatives and friends. They had elected to be married together and had bought very smart matching costumes in cream and navy, which they said were more practical and could be worn again. They also thought it unseemly to have lavish arrangements with the country in the state it was, and with weddings pushed forward out of necessity.
Doris said Anna and Lizzie had a right to an opinion and to have the wedding of their choice, but she thought a person’s wedding day was the one day no one should use the word ‘practical’. However, the lack of fancy clothes and pomp and ceremony didn’t seem to detract from the wedding, for the beauty of the girls came from within and warmed the hearts of everyone. True abiding love sparked between the two young couples as, with the Mass over, the priest pronounced them man and wife.
The service had also had a poignancy to it, as they, like many young couples, had been desperate to tie the knot before the balloon went up. Their futures were uncertain, but with the declaration of war hanging over them, they would almost certainly be parted – maybe for many months or years – and face immeasurable dangers. Meg suddenly closed her eyes and prayed fervently that they would all return safely.
When she opened her eyes it was to find Terry’s eyes fastened on her and she smiled, glad to see her brother because she had missed him. She had seen him at Mass most Sundays, but they only spent a few minutes together and he never came to the house. The wedding celebrations spilled out onto the street, because the house could not accommodate all the people who had attended the Nuptial Mass, but it didn’t matter for the day was a fine one, sunny and warm.
Meg told Terry about bumping into Kate Carmichael and her suggestion about joining the Land Army. ‘Joy is really keen,’ she said, ‘only a bit disappointed I can’t go with her.’
‘And why can’t you?’
‘Oh, Terry, think why not,’ Meg cried impatiently. ‘Doris came home last night full of the Government’s evacuation plans.’
‘Dad won’t agree to that.’
‘Have you forgotten already that Doris makes the decisions in our house?’ Meg said. ‘And she’s in favour of evacuation so it will happen. Then if Dad is called up that will leave Doris in sole charge of Ruth. You are growing into a big strapping lad but I bet you wouldn’t want Doris to be in sole charge of you.’
Terry grinned. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I wouldn’t. Tell you the truth I would rather take my chance with a sabre-toothed tiger. I think it would be more trustworthy.’
‘Yes, but it’s no laughing matter, is it?’ Meg said. ‘I mean, what chance will Ruth have with her? And even though I am not joining the Land Army, I’ll have to work at something so however close to home I am Doris will have her all day. You can do a lot to a little child in a day and she will be too young to tell me.’
‘Oh, yeah, that’s right,’ Terry said. ‘And Ruth is bound to do things that will annoy her because little kids do.’
‘What’s up?’ said a voice behind them.
‘Nicholas!’ Meg said, swinging round to face her cousin. ‘Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on people?’
‘I didn’t sneak up,’ Nicholas assured her. ‘That wasn’t the intention, anyway. Just saw you talking and it looked serious.’
‘Not really,’ Terry said. ‘Just moaning about Doris. We do it often.’
Nicholas looked as if he could quite understand that. ‘I think a lot of people feel a bit sorry for your dad,’ he said.
‘Well, they needn’t waste their sympathy,’ Terry said fiercely. ‘I have no respect for my father because he is spineless. He allows things to happen to him rather than taking charge of his own life.’
Meg hated to hear her brother talking that way about the father she still made excuses for. ‘It isn’t all his fault. You know how he missed Mom.’
‘Oh, don’t give me that,’ Terry said with an impatient shake of his head. ‘I missed Mom too. We all did. But we had to get on with things like she’d have wanted us to. Look, it didn’t take him long to find another to warm his bed. I may not go to the wedding at all; I have no desire to. No, Meg. You defend him all you like, but in my opinion Dad and Doris Caudwell deserve each other.’
That night, Doris and Charlie lay on the bed in Doris’s flat and again Doris broached the subject of evacuation. This time Charlie had had enough to drink to feel mellow and very amorous, and as Doris spoke she allowed him to fondle her body and gave him little teasing kisses to punctuate her words, the words that mentioned evacuating the children for the first time. ‘It’s just sending them so far away that worries me,’ Charlie said with a slight slur that made Doris smile. She had drunk little herself because she thought the evacuation of the older children and the problem of Ruth had to be dealt with and she knew just how compliant Charlie was in this stage of drunkenness. ‘Meg was s’posed to keep them together.’
‘When Maeve laid that charge upon Meg she didn’t know there was going to be a war, now, did she? Did any of us?’
‘No, no, you’re right. None of us did.’
‘And doesn’t war change everything?’
‘I suppose it does, yes.’
‘And haven’t you told me that everyone’s saying that this will be a war fought from the air?’ Doris prompted. ‘You saw the pictures of that Spanish place a few years ago. What if that happens here and your children are in the thick of it? You might be called up by then and I can’t be with them every minute.’
Charlie had had enough talking with Doris’s luscious body lying tantalisingly close and he reached for her, but she evaded his grasp. ‘The pleasure comes later,’ she said, kissing him on the lips lingeringly so that he groaned in desire. ‘There are decisions to make first.’