Read Secrets of the Singer Girls Online
Authors: Kate Thompson
Well, where to start? Firstly I would be simply chuffed to bits to have you as a confidante. You sound like a lovely, hard-working girl, the sort that any man could
count himself proud to know.
I am currently in a military hospital located close to the front with shrapnel wounds to my leg, and no idea when, or indeed if, I will be declared fit for service
again. Imagine mine and the nurse’s surprise when she came to dress my wounds this morning and your letter dropped out of the fresh bandage as she ripped it open. Talk about pennies from
heaven. I dare say there wasn’t a happier invalid that morning!
I too am a country lad at heart. My comrades like to take the mickey out of me something rotten and my nickname is Private Bumpkin. I’m afraid to say I’m
most dreadfully shy, so this good-natured teasing has the effect of turning me quite the strangest shade of red, which seems to amuse them even further, but I don’t mind a bit. Laughter
is so important to morale, don’t you think, Poppy?
Born and bred down in Devon, it was quite a shock to me when I first arrived in the battlefields. I almost laugh when I look back and think how naive I was when I
signed up to fight. I was so green. I lived on a farm with parents who loved me. I was proud of my animal-husbandry skills, honed over the years (I was so happy to read you love animals too),
but I wanted to make my mark and do my bit for my country. I couldn’t bear to think of the Nazis getting their hands on our green and civil land.
I don’t have children. Well, to be honest with you, Poppy, I don’t even have a sweetheart and never have, but I live in hope. One day, I so wish to have a
family of my own, and I couldn’t bear to think of them being brainwashed by the Nazis, so off I marched to war in my squeaky-clean boots. To this day, Poppy, I don’t regret that,
but I wish I had not seen some of the things that I have. War is a terrible thing. You see, you cannot undo what you have done. I have seen my comrades die next to me in the most terrible ways
imaginable. When you look at them, you can’t help but think, Why are they dead? Just a year or so ago, they were going to school, working, getting married . . . Many had ambition; all
looked forward to the future and talked constantly of what they planned to do once this dreadful war is over. Now they ‘re gone. Those ambitions will never be realized. I suppose what
I’m saying, Poppy, is that war has made me realize what is truly important in life.
You talked of dreams in your letter and that is what compelled me to write back to you. For I have so many dreams I fear I might burst with them. I just hope I get the
chance to fulfil them. Goodness but this letter is taking on a maudlin edge. Sorry – I shall talk no more of this, but it feels so good to be able to speak freely. I cannot write of these
things to my mother, you see, as she worries about me dreadfully. But mainly, Poppy, I would love someone to share dreams with.
I’d like to finish this missive by paying tribute to the courage of you ladies back home in the land I love. We have heard such terrible stories of what you are
all enduring on the home front. It is one thing to stare the enemy in the face, but facing the unseen enemy of uncertainty, hardship and poverty is another. You ended your letter with blessings
from the East End, and I end mine by taking my hat off to you, Poppy Percival. Here’s to the sharing of dreams.
I
await your response eagerly.
Yours,
Freddie
When she had finished reading, Poppy let out a deep sigh and held the letter to her heart. In all her days she could never have hoped to have a more perfect, sensitive and
intelligent man write back to her. Taking out her pencil and paper, she began to compose a reply.
Dear Freddie,
I can’t even begin to tell you how thrilled your response made me. Not that you’re in hospital, I mean, but that you wrote back. Nothing would make me
happier than to be your friend. I nearly cried reading your sweet comments about all that we are enduring on the home front. But in reality we are just getting on with the business of work. It
is you soldiers risking your lives for our freedom who really deserve the cheers.
Tell me about the hospital. Are there nice VAD nurses looking after you? What do they call them? Very Adorable Darlings? It’s so important to have people to look
out for you, after all. I have three wonderful friends looking out for me here in Bethnal Green. They’re all as different as chalk and cheese, but I’m fairly certain I
wouldn’t have survived the move to London were it not for them.
My eyes were truly opened to the hideous effect this war is having when I moved to the East End. So many people were killed in the Blitz, and those who did escape with
their lives more often than not had their homes bombed from under them. But they never seem to stop smiling . . . or singing. Did I tell you the women in the factory where I work are nicknamed
the ‘Singer Girls’?
I don’t think I sang one word when I was a scullery maid; now I feel like I’m in a music hall we sing that much, but it’s wonderful. They’re
wonderful. I’d love you to meet my friends one day.
But for all that the East End has given me, my heart still belongs out in the countryside. Simple dreams, really, but I’m a simple girl at heart. Please tell me
what you hope to do when this war is over. I would so love to hear.
Yours in anticipation,
Poppy Percival
Poppy looked at her small and deeply treasured bottle of Ashes of Violet on the sideboard. She knew Betty would have given the letter a liberal coating of perfume, but she
decided against it. It wasn’t really her style. Instead, she gave the envelope a breathless little kiss and hurried off out through the door to post the letter to her new friend.
It was the Sunday after Daisy had found herself suddenly without her job, and Vera and Archie had summoned her downstairs, to discuss her future.
‘Don’t look so worried, love,’ said Archie, as Daisy gripped her lower back and eased herself down into a chair.
Clutching her tummy protectively, Daisy eyed Vera and Archie nervously over the kitchen table.
‘We need to make a plan of action,’ said Vera softly. ‘I invited Archie here today as he’s pledged to help us in any way he can, and from where I’m sitting, we
could do with all the help we can get right now.’
‘Really?’ snapped Daisy. ‘Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like a council of war.’
‘all Vera wants is to make sure that when the time comes for the little ‘un to be born, you’re in a place of safety and comfort,’ said Archie.
‘Sorry,’ mumbled Daisy, contrite. ‘It’s just that, well, I’m scared.’
‘I know you are, love,’ soothed Vera. ‘That’s why Archie’s kindly agreed to use up his fuel allowance and drive us both to the home next Sunday. I’ve
telephoned the matron there and she has agreed to admit you a little early. She sounds nice, and look at the positives. At least you’ll be in the peace of the countryside, surrounded by other
young women in the same position as you, with no one judging or whispering.’
Daisy nodded and slowly rose to her feet. ‘I suppose I better start packing, then,’ she said in a hollow voice.
Upstairs in her bedroom, Daisy lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She knew Vera and Archie were both acting with the best of intentions, but right now she felt so helpless, as if her
whole life were hurtling out of control and there was not the slightest thing she could do about it. The die was cast. Her baby would be taken from her. The realization made every cell in her body
thrum with despair and agony.
This child was
her
flesh and blood.
Hers and Robert’s . . .
Pulling her candlewick bedspread over her head, she wished she were dead.
The muffled din from downstairs was distant to begin with, but grew gradually louder. Footsteps pounded up the stairs and in alarm Daisy realized the voices were raised in anger. Vera’s
suddenly rang out in distress.
‘You can’t go in there!’
Daisy sat bolt upright, gripped with fear, and frantically looked around the room for something to defend herself with. Oh, please, God, no, don’t let it be her father. Had he got out of
prison somehow? She felt the blood drain from her head as the door flew open. But it wasn’t her father’s furious face she found herself gazing at. Sheer amazement prickled up her
spine.
‘Daisy?’ breathed a deep male voice. ‘It’s me. I’m back.’
It was hard to say who was most shocked, Daisy, Vera, Archie or Robert, whose gaze was fixed firmly on Daisy’s swollen stomach. It was the GI who broke the silence first.
‘Daisy, are you pregnant?’ he whispered.
‘Well, she’s hardly been overeating,’ snapped Vera. She glared at Robert and looked set to give him a piece of her mind when Archie took her by the arm.
‘Come on, Vera, let’s give them some space to talk,’ he said quietly.
‘But this . . . this is ridiculous,’ spluttered Vera. ‘He can’t be here, alone with Daisy in her bedroom. It’s simply not right.’
‘Vera, just give them ten minutes – that’s all,’ said Archie firmly. ‘The lad has come a long way.’
‘Ten minutes, and I shall be downstairs, so no funny business,’ muttered Vera, glaring at Robert, as she shut the door reluctantly.
And then they were alone.
‘Sorry about my sister,’ murmured Daisy, still in a haze of disbelief. ‘She’s just a bit protective of me.’
‘I-I got forty-eight hours’ leave off base, my first leave in months. I came as soon as I could,’ Robert stuttered, unable to tear his eyes away from Daisy’s rounded
tummy.
Daisy went to reply, but to her surprise, found she had no voice. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could scarcely hear her own thoughts. Robert sank to his knees at her bedside. She had
forgotten how big he was. His shoulders alone seemed to fill the tiny room. She simply couldn’t believe her eyes. His strong, chiselled face was more handsome than she remembered and her
heart ached afresh.
‘Robert,’ she whispered eventually, ‘why didn’t you reply to my letter?’
‘Oh, Daisy,’ he cried, ‘I never got any letter, I swear it. It’s possible it was destroyed by the censorship office, if you maybe mentioned something you shouldn’t
have. Or it could have been lost in transit. We’ve been moved around here, there and everywhere for the last five months. The training has been so intense I forget how many bases we’ve
even been through, but you were never out of my thoughts for a second. When I didn’t get a reply to my letter, well, I thought you’d moved on with your life, but I knew I had to come
and find you and see for myself, just in case.’
He gripped Daisy’s face in his hands. ‘You have to believe me, Daisy, please,’ he pleaded. ‘I’m in love with you. I knew the first moment I got leave I had to be
with you. I’ve only got forty-eight hours. Darn it all, it’s taken me twelve hours just to get here, but I don’t even care.’
His words were tripping over themselves to escape. ‘I don’t care. I’d spend all day travelling just to see your face for five minutes . . . And, Daisy?’ His giant hands
gently cupped her tummy in wonderment.
‘Yes,’ she breathed.
‘You’re pregnant! I’m just so . . . so shocked,’ he babbled, holding out one trembling hand. ‘Look, I’m actually shaking.’
He stood back to admire her, before dropping to his knees again and kissing every inch of her swollen tummy. When at last his face gazed up at her, she saw a hundred questions sweep through his
mind.
‘I will take care of you, and look after you,’ he promised.
The words she had waited so long to hear. Except now it was too late.
Daisy reached down and touched his cheek sadly. ‘Robert,’ she said fearfully, ‘you have no idea what I’ve been through these past five months. I’ve been turned out
of my job and shunned by the girls. I want this baby every bit as much as you, but it’s impossible. You’re a soldier serving in the US Army. You have to leave again soon. How can you
support me when you don’t even know where you’ll be next week, never mind next year? I’m to be admitted to a mother and baby home, and then preparations will be made to . .
.’ Her voice caught as her emotions overcame her. ‘Sorry . . .’ she wept. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I can’t keep our baby.’
Robert’s face fell. ‘So that’s that?’ he blazed. ‘We simply give up? You don’t care enough to even try?’
She shook her head bitterly. ‘Of course I care, Robert,’ she said, her cheeks flushing with anger. ‘I’ve been living and breathing this and thinking of nothing else since
the moment I knew I was expecting, but don’t you see? It’s impossible.’
Robert rose to his feet slowly. He was such a handsome colossus of a man, but this was one battle she was pretty sure even he couldn’t win.
‘Well, I will still marry you, Daisy. That is my intention and I will make that clear to your sister,’ he announced.
A glimmer of hope surfaced in Daisy’s heart.
‘When?’ she blurted. ‘Could we go tomorrow, before I have to leave for the home? Then they’ll have to change their mind, surely?’
Robert shook his head. ‘Oh, Daisy,’ he groaned. ‘If only it were that easy. You cannot even begin to imagine the paperwork that’s involved when soldiers in the US Army
marry English girls while on duty abroad. It was all explained to us when we first arrived in the UK.’
‘How hard can it really be?’ Daisy scoffed. ‘I know heaps of people who have had the hastiest weddings ever before their sweethearts went back off to fight.’
‘English soldiers, maybe,’ Robert replied, shaking his head. ‘But for us Americans, it’s a whole lot more complicated. They wrap you up in red tape. My commanding officer
will need to approve the application once it’s been officially placed and then will write to the church or civil authority who will conduct the ceremony. Then we would both be questioned by
an army chaplain and need to provide character references.’