Authors: June Francis
In August, with mass evacuations of children from the cities on the way, John decided that Jack would be better in Ireland. He was handed over to Daniel with his tricycle and small suitcase and his parents watched his furiously waving figure as the ship departed until it was out of sight. Then they blinked back their tears and, holding hands as they had not done for a long time, they went back home.
Ben had been asked did he want to go to Ireland but he had just glanced up from the aeroplane he was making and said no thanks. He had his gas mask and there was the cellar. In an extremely adult voice he had added that he would take his chances with them.
In September Hitler’s air force bombed Poland and his armies marched into that country. It was the start of the Second World War.
Those early months of the war seemed unreal to Kitty as she waited for the prophesied air raids. There were sandbags with their smell of damp sand and sacking piled up against the outside walls and the windows were crisscrossed with sticky tape and hung with ugly black curtains. John joined the Red Cross and when Ben left school he told Kitty he wanted to make money and do something for the war effort. She could not deny him the opportunities she had given to Mick and Teddy. So Ben started work with a local builder who was commissioned to build air-raid shelters. When he came home he regaled Kitty and John with stories of surface shelters, whose faulty design caused them to collapse. The designers had to think again. There was also a shortage of bricks which meant the city quota of one hundred and forty-two thousand shelters would probably not be met for a long time, if ever.
For a while business was slack as several of Kitty’s regular sources of income dried up. The younger ones among her travelling salesmen were conscripted or volunteered. Fewer visitors ventured in from Wales and Lancashire and the man from the Home Office closed down all cinemas and theatres. He soon realised his mistake and they reopened because Britain needed its escapism.
Christmas came, bringing with it love and God bless from Jack and the O’Neills, as well as from Annie and Jimmy in Ireland. There was also best wishes from Teddy and a proper letter saying he was a maintenance man, keeping the RAF mobile and travelling around the country. That was the reason he could not give them an address. A sealed envelope for Jeannie was enclosed which Kitty put carefully away, hoping that the girl would get in touch one day.
There was no card from Mick but he had written as soon as he had joined the
Dunloughie Castle
depot ship as a naval rating and was now serving on a cruiser somewhere. It did not seem a bit like Christmas despite them going to the Pivvy where Old Mother Riley was starring in
The Old Woman Who Lives in a Shoe.
On New Year’s Eve, Celia did not turn in for work. ‘It’ll be her mother,’ said John, putting on his overcoat and cap. ‘Cessy’s worried about her on and off for the last year. I’d better go and see how things are with them.’
Kitty looked at him and thought his face looked pinched and cold so fetched a scarf and wrapped it about his neck for good measure. ‘Bronchitis, do you think?’ she asked, kissing him.
‘Who knows?’ He shrugged.
She asked no further questions but suggested he call out the doctor if things were bad. He nodded and left.
When John returned Kitty knew from his expression that matters were serious. She made two cups of tea and put plenty of sugar and a tot of whisky in them. ‘Well?’ She sat opposite him at the kitchen table, glad for once that the hotel was almost empty. They had a lone English guest from America who had come home to volunteer.
John bit into a slice of Dundee cake and gulped down half his tea before saying, ‘I should have gone ages ago. I feel bad because I’ve neglected them.’
‘You’ve been busy with the Red Cross and we’ve had other things on our minds,’ soothed Kitty.
He shook his head and his expression was austere. ‘That’s no excuse. I just don’t like the woman.’ There was a short silence. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s consumption. Celia’s suspected for ages it might be. She just didn’t know what to do because her mother was so set against seeing anyone. Besides, they couldn’t afford a doctor. I tore a strip off Celia and said we’d have paid. I’ve told her she’s to see the doctor as well.’ He looked across at Kitty. ‘We should be checked over, too – and Ben and Hannah and Monica, just to make sure. Although I don’t think there’s any danger. Celia’s experience with Geraldine Galloway made sure she was careful.’
‘What about the boys before they went away and Jeannie—?’ she began.
He shook his head. ‘I doubt it. Have you ever heard Celia coughing?’ Kitty shook her head. ‘There you are then! Quickest way to catch it but she hasn’t been coughing over anyone.’
Kitty’s mind was relieved somewhat but she knew she would not know real peace until the doctor gave them the all clear.
Within twenty-four hours Celia’s mother was moved to the Consumption Hospital on Mount Pleasant where she died within a few days. To Kitty’s horror Celia proved to have the disease but John reassured her that it would probably not be fatal as it was in its early stages. Celia was found a place in Cheshire, where the patients were kept in isolation in little wooden cabins where fresh air and good food was the main form of treatment.
Two more letters came from Teddy for Kitty and Jeannie. In Kitty’s he asked whether Jeannie had received his first letter and this time he enclosed an address where she could get in touch with him. Kitty had to write back and tell him that Jeannie had left.
Life went on with Kitty missing her boys and the two girls. She was certain that John felt the same but he never mentioned them. Still the air raids did not materialise during those early months of 1940. The expected rationing was also delayed. It did mean that people from out of town began to make appearances and so did several theatricals and newly married couples on one-night honeymoons, but the Grand National was scrapped and its supporters from the Republic of Ireland were greatly missed.
Kitty decided to open her dining room to the general public. John did her a couple of boards which she displayed in a front window and outside, offering substantial but plain meals such as shepherd’s pie and carrots for eight pence and fruit tart for threppence. It was slow at first but business gradually built up.
Germany began its
Blitzkrieg
across Europe, forcing the British Expeditionary Forces to retreat to the sea. It was a worrying time for everyone, even Kitty because although neither of her sons were in the army she knew that they could still be caught up in Dunkirk somewhere. There was no news from either of them afterwards but Jeannie telephoned wanting to speak to John.
Kitty watched his face as he held the receiver, trying to make something of the conversation from his monosyllabic answers, waiting for him to mention Teddy’s letters, but he replaced the receiver without saying a word. Immediately Kitty jumped on him, ‘Why didn’t you tell her about Teddy’s letter?’ Her tone was accusing.
‘It wasn’t the right time,’ he said shortly. ‘She’s upset. I didn’t want to upset her further.’
‘It mightn’t have upset her. It might have been just what she needed!’
John looked at Kitty but she could tell he was not seeing her. ‘She’s been training as a nurse down in Oxfordshire,’ he murmured, ‘and has just had to cope with some of the wounded from Dunkirk. She thought I would understand how she was feeling because of my experiences from the first war. Men with their limbs blown off and the like. It’s really distressed her.’
It’d distress anyone
, thought Kitty, feeling sad, but still uppermost in her thoughts was Teddy. She touched John’s arm. ‘Did you get her address?’
This time he looked at Kitty as if he was really seeing her. ‘No. I didn’t think,’ he said simply. ‘Besides she said she’d ring again.’
‘Oh John!’ Kitty shook her head at him. ‘What if she doesn’t? What about Teddy? There’s a war on. What if he never gets the chance to sort this out? You should have thought!’
His face altered, hardened. ‘Well, I didn’t. And that’s all there is to it. I had more on my mind than your son with his cushy little number with the air force. She’s seen men dying! Who’s to say they both won’t have changed and see nothing they want from each other if they ever meet again?’ And he walked away.
Kitty felt as if he had slapped her in the face.
Love, John!
she wanted to shout after him. Love doesn’t change. Give them their chance. So it’s young love but that can be true! But then she wondered whether there was some deeper meaning behind his words and he was referring to him and her. But had they changed so much from the people they had been when they first met? It was something she did not have the time to think about and, besides, she was unsure how profitable it would be if she did start analysing her feelings and looking back over the last eight years. So it was something else that was pushed to the back of her mind.
By July of 1940 the British Isles had become fortress Britain and Liverpool’s Lord Mayor was asking women to sacrifice their jewellery to provide guns and aeroplanes for the country’s fighting men. Kitty fingered the locket which had been her mother’s and did not allow herself to think too much before joining a queue of women outside the town hall in Dale Street. Perhaps if she’d had a daughter to pass it on to she might have had second thoughts about sacrificing it but, of course, she didn’t.
London began to suffer heavily from air raids and, in the Atlantic, merchant shipping was being sunk at an alarming rate. Kitty’s heart bled for all those mothers and wives who had lost sailor menfolk. Mick was seldom out of her thoughts. ‘Spanish fortune teller,’ she found herself muttering one day. ‘Is that really supposed to make me feel better?’
‘What are thee chunnering about? Talking to thyself is the first sign of madness,’ said Hannah, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway. She was getting old and bent now but Kitty did not have the heart to get rid of her.
‘I was thinking aloud. Do you believe people can foresee the future, Hannah?’
‘It says in the Good Book that there’s prophets.’
‘I don’t know if that’s quite what I meant.’ She sighed. ‘At least I’ve still got Ben home,’ she murmured.
‘Thou’s worrying about them lads.’ Hannah wiped the top of the table with a dishcloth. ‘Doesn’t thou know it’s a sin to worry.’
‘You’ve never had children, Hannah. And war is something a bit different.’
‘It’s an abomination in the sight of the Lord,’ said the maid. ‘And that devil Hitler’ll pay for his lust for power and his greed.’
‘I should hope so!’ Kitty peeled a last potato and dropped it in a pan. The evening meal was served earlier now, just in case there should be any raids. There had been several false alarms and a couple of brief raids with little damage. Guests and passing trade continued to mingle. At the moment she had a couple of theatricals staying, two newly married couples, or not as the case might be – Kitty never asked to see their marriage lines – and four seamen from Norway and Holland. These were classed as aliens and had had to fill in a special form and report to the office at the bottom of Lord Nelson Street. She had a soft spot for them because she saw her own father in each of them.
One afternoon towards the end of August she was in the dining room. Ruth, Hannah’s niece who had arrived a few weeks ago, was there but not Monica. Suddenly Kitty heard voices in the lobby and she stilled, recognising one of them. She fled into the lobby and froze when she saw the back view of a man in the uniform of the Royal Navy.
‘Mick!’ she cried.
He turned and it
was
him, looking a bit older but healthy enough. His eyes creased at the corners in his well-loved smile. ‘Hello, Ma.’
She hugged him, needing the assurance that only holding him could bring. At last she found her voice. ‘You look in the pink. What have they been feeding you on?’
‘Nothing as good as you could dish up,’ he said promptly.
‘I suppose that’s why you’ve come home,’ she said, linking her arm through his. ‘A bit of home cooking. There’s a war on, you know, so don’t be expecting cavier and peach melba.’
He grinned. ‘One of your steak and kidney pies’ll do, Ma.’
‘As it happens …’ She laughed. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Our ship’s in dock at Newcastle being repaired.’
‘What happened to it?’
He shrugged. ‘Nothing much. We had a brush with a mine. No one was hurt.’ He glanced around. ‘Where’s Ben and the big fella? Where’s Celia? Your letters told me nothing important.’
‘That’s because they’re censored and we’re told careless talk costs lives. As a member of His Majesty’s forces you should know that.’
He smiled. ‘Well? Where is everybody?’
‘John’s a first-aid officer. Ben’s building shelters and helping out. As for Celia she’s in an isolation place in Cheshire somewhere in Delamere Forest. She has TB, Mick.’
‘What!’ He leaned against the reception desk, looking flabbergasted. ‘How serious is it?’
‘She has a good chance of recovering because they caught it early, but you know what it’s like with that disease. We went to see her a few months ago and she looked a bit down in the dumps.’
Mick was not surprised. He’d be more than down in the dumps if he had the disease. He found himself remembering Celia sticking by Geraldine Galloway and how she had died. He hated to think that Celia might go the same way.
Kitty bombarded him with questions, which he answered in monosyllables. She managed to glean out of him that his ship had helped with rescuing those from Dunkirk but more recently had been in the North Atlantic on convoy duty. ‘Any news about our Teddy’s whereabouts yet?’ he asked abruptly.
She told him about Teddy and Jeannie and then suggested he went upstairs and had a rest. He shook his head. ‘I’ll just get a wash and brush up and then give you a hand, if you like.’
She accepted gratefully and within the hour it appeared to Mick on the one hand that he had never been away, but on the other everything had changed. He missed his brothers and the girls and the banter between them all. Although it was Celia he could not get out of his mind. He decided if it was fine tomorrow he would get out his old pushbike and go and visit her.