Maggie, looking up, smiled at Patty in the doorway. ‘We had our dinner here today,’ she said cheerfully, ‘and Mrs Knight has been teaching me to make lemon barley water.’ She turned to her companion. ‘We’ve made gallons, haven’t we? Enough for both our families with a bit over for Mrs Clarke, because Mrs Knight says lemon barley water is good for babies when the weather’s as hot as this. D’you like it, Patty?’
Patty had longed ceased to be ‘Auntie’ as far as Maggie was concerned. She was beginning to say that she was very fond of lemon barley water and could do with a glass of it right now when Merrell, who had been piling garishly coloured wooden bricks into a tower, spotted her. She jumped to her feet, knocking the tower all over the place, and rushed across the room, squeaking: ‘Mummy! Mummy! Mummy back!’ and hugging Patty so tightly around the knees that she nearly pulled her over.
Laughing and staggering a little, Patty picked the child up, hugged her and plonked a kiss on her shining fair curls before remarking: ‘Yes, all right, queen, you’re right, I’m home!’ She turned to Mrs Knight. ‘I’m being honoured by the hospital, Mrs K. They’re sending me a trainee midwife to live here for six months and learn our ways. I’ll have to buy another bed, of course, but I shall be reimbursed. Her name’s Ellen Purbright; she’s from Formby, and once she’s installed it will make the work a good deal easier. She’s a bright girl, just like her name, full of fun and not at all in awe of the senior staff the way I was when I worked on the wards. Why, as soon as she heard she was to stay with me, she suggested that we might like to get to know one another on a more informal basis before her actual training starts. I was a bit doubtful at first, but I’ve agreed and we’re starting tonight. No one at the hospital knows that there are three of us in this house and quite honestly I want it to stay that way, so I need Nurse Purbright to be on my side, if you know what I mean. I didn’t want to refuse to take her, that
would
make folk suspicious, so it seemed a good idea that we should meet socially a few times. Then I can explain …’
‘I’m very glad you’re going to have a companion of your own age, and I do think you ought to go out and about wi’ your own kind,’ Mrs Knight said at once. ‘All work and no play make Jack a dull boy, and you work every hour God sends, as I well know, what wi’ the job and your little fambly here. As for not wanting the people at the hospital to know about Merrell, I can understand that, though I’m not sure that deceiving folk ever pays, in the end. Still, you go out and enjoy yourself wi’ your pal. I’ll keep an eye on all at number twenty-four.’
‘Thanks ever so much,’ Patty said gratefully. ‘Actually it won’t be just meself and Nurse Purbright, we’ll be with three or four other nurses from the Stanley Hospital, so it will be quite a social event for me. Of course I’ll put Merrell to bed before I leave and Maggie will put herself to bed when she feels tired. But I’d feel happier, Mrs K., if you know where I am and can give Maggie a hand if anything goes wrong while I’m away. She can knock on the wall the same as she does when I’m on nights.’
‘She’s never knocked on the wall yet, but I know what you mean,’ Mrs Knight admitted. ‘I don’t usually go to bed afore midnight, and I dare say you’ll be back home by then, though I’m a light sleeper and a knock on the wall at two in the morning would wake me up, you may be sure. Where’s you goin’, queen? Somewhere nice, I hope.’
‘We’re going to the Daulby Hall,’ Patty said rather gloomily. She had no desire to prance around a dance floor with a young man’s arms about her but had felt she could hardly say so when the other girls were being so friendly and trying to include her in an outing for the first time. ‘I don’t know if it’s really my kind of thing, but the others seem to think I’ll get along all right.’
‘Of course you will,’ Mrs Knight nodded, getting to her feet and beginning to lay the table for their supper. ‘Why, Nurse, you’re pretty as a picture, though you don’t seem to realise it! All that lovely, wavy blonde hair is enough to set you apart, to say nothing of the trimmest figure!’
Patty had decided to grow her hair and now wore it in a neat bun on the nape of her neck during working hours, thinking that it looked more professional than the bob she had favoured when she first came to Ashfield Place.
‘You ought to have a grosh of admirers … come to that, you oughter be married to some good-lookin’ feller who would spoil you a bit, make a fuss of you!’ Mrs Knight went on.
‘It’s nice of you to say so,’ Patty said, taking off her uniform coat, hat and apron and donning the calico overall which she usually wore around the house. ‘But I’m really not at all interested in being married or courted or anything like that. I want a proper career, that’s what I want, and enough independence to have a little house of my own in the country one day, with a nice piece of garden to grow cabbages in and mebbe some fruit. Then I’d need a run for some hens, perhaps a pig … and a dog called Rover and a cat, too. That’s what I’m aiming for, Mrs K.’
Her neighbour looked astonished. ‘And no man? Wharrabout a feller who can be a dad to young Merrell here? Don’t you think your life would be easier wi’ two of you earnin’, and a feller to dig the garden and plant them cabbages? No pretty young woman can manage without a feller, queen.’
‘Well, I can,’ Patty assured her. ‘I don’t need a feller here, so why should I need one in the country?’
‘The country’s lonelier than the city,’ Mrs Knight said. ‘Still an’ all, if that’s what you want, queen … oh, I forgot to ask. What are you wearin’ to this here dance?’
There was a moment of astonished silence, then Patty said: ‘Why, a clean print uniform frock, of course. What else should I wear?’
‘I guess your pals will be in dance dresses,’ Mrs Knight said mildly. ‘You know the sort o’ thing – taffeta, or artificial silk, wi’ a full skirt and mebbe a flower pinned to one shoulder. Oh, queen, you must know wharr I mean.’
‘Yes, I think I do know, only I’ve never had any need of that sort of dress,’ Patty said, after some thought. ‘Won’t a uniform dress do, then?’
‘No it won’t,’ Mrs Knight said at once. ‘Tell you what, though, you can always borrow something. Young Ada Clarke used to be a great one to dance afore she wed. She’ll likely have at least one dress what’ll fit you, and she doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, young Ada. She’ll see you right. Best go along there at once and explain.’
So Patty went, cap in hand she felt, to Mrs Clarke and presently returned with what she said, in an awed voice, was the most beautiful garment she had ever seen. It was cut low across the breast, with a full swirling skirt which reached almost to her ankles, and the colour was a sort of misty grey-blue which did wonderful things for Patty’s fair complexion and blue eyes.
‘That’ll do you a treat,’ Mrs Knight said with satisfaction. ‘Well, I trust you’ll come round some time tomorrer, tell me how things went. And I’ll keep an eye out for the kids, like I promised.’
‘Thanks, Mrs K., you’re a real friend,’ Patty said gratefully. ‘Mrs Clarke asked if I had any dance shoes, but I thought my navy sandals would do. They’re ever so comfy … and anyway, since I don’t know how to dance I dare say it won’t make much difference what I wear on my feet.’
Mrs Knight glanced a trifle doubtfully at Patty’s sturdy, flat-heeled sandals, but agreed that comfort was the thing. ‘No one won’t stare at your feet, norrin that dress,’ she assured her young friend. ‘Now I’m off back to get Darky’s tea, but you have yourself a good time, chuck!’
Patty prepared Maggie’s tea, fed Merrell and popped her into bed, and then began the preparations for her own evening. To her surprise, she rather enjoyed it. A strip-down wash, a quick dusting of baby powder – she had no other – then clean underwear and over that the borrowed dress. She brushed her hair hard, then slid from the pocket of her uniform dress the lipstick Mrs Clarke had insisted on lending her and applied it before the small, spotted mirror. It gave her face a sort of focus, she supposed doubtfully. Then she went to the long mirror in which she always checked her appearance before setting out for a day’s work. Seeing her reflection, she almost gasped. She looked – oh, different! Pretty, carefree, like a society belle off for an evening’s fun.
Maggie, looking up from the French knitting which was all the rage at school right now, whistled beneath her breath. ‘You look stunning, Patty,’ she said admiringly. ‘Ain’t Mrs Clarke clever, though? She must have made that dress, because she telled me once that she makes all her own clothes.’
‘She’s kind as well as clever,’ Patty said, slipping her coat over her shoulders and checking that her purse was in her pocket. ‘If I had a dress like this I don’t know that I’d want to lend it to anyone else, it’s so beautiful. Now be good, Mags. I’ll be in before midnight, I expect.’
‘Bet you ain’t never been out so late before – apart from work,’ Maggie said. ‘Have a grand time, Patty. I’m going to ask Mrs Clarke if she’ll teach me to make a dress like that.’
Patty laughed and headed for the door. ‘You’ll probably finish it in time for your wedding,’ she said jokingly. ‘Don’t forget, queen, if you need any help just knock on the wall. And don’t stay up too late. I’ll see you in the morning.’
Patty had agreed to meet her colleagues outside the dance hall and was glad to see that she was not the only person waiting about. There were several small groups of girls and some young men as well and she stood by a pretty, dark-haired girl in a black taffeta skirt and white blouse, hoping that it would not be long before the others turned up.
Presently, the other nurses began to congregate and included Patty easily in their conversation, asking her about working on the district as though they were really interested. Nurse Purbright was last to arrive and came panting up at a run, then linked her arm with Patty’s in the friendliest way. ‘We’ll stick together, us two,’ she said rather breathlessly. ‘We can dance together to start with, before the lads have got our measure, I mean. The other girls say you don’t go dancing much.’
‘Well, never,’ Patty admitted, suddenly wanting to confide in this easy-going, attractive young woman. ‘I’ve been so busy… and then I’ve got responsibilities which you don’t know about yet. I – I live with a – a baby called Merrell – she’s past eighteen months and toddling – and a young girl, Maggie, who helps me in the house and looks after Merrell when I’m busy.’
Her new friend looked at her with considerable awe. ‘And someone said you were a dull stick! You’re really a dark horse,’ she gasped. ‘My Gawd, they don’t know you at all, do they? I’m real fond of kids and they like me, so it’ll be grand sharing a house with you and your baby; we’ll all have a great time together, I’m sure, just like you and I are going to have this evening. I know you don’t go out much, the others told me … unless they’re wrong about that as well?’
‘I’m too busy to go out much,’ Patty said ruefully. ‘But with you sharing the house with me, I hope things will be easier.’
‘I’m sure if we all pull together we’ll have time to enjoy ourselves as well,’ Nurse Purbright assured her. ‘And we’re certainly going to enjoy ourselves tonight, just wait and see.’
And entering the dance hall, taking in the brilliant lights, the equally brilliant dresses, and the air almost of carnival which seemed to make the lights shimmer even more brightly, Patty was sure that her new friend was right. It reminded her of the only other real, grownup party she had ever attended, which had been the night the war ended, and that had been – oh, an unforgettable night. It had remained in her memory as clear and bright and beautiful as it had been at the time. Smiling at the recollection, Patty left her coat with the cloakroom attendant and walked, with Ellen’s arm still linked in hers, towards the gleaming dance floor.
The ’flu epidemic which had been sweeping Britain reached Durrant House in early November. At first, only four or five of the younger girls appeared to have been affected, but once it had taken hold it spread with astonishing rapidity so that staff as well as children began to take to their beds.
Matron was one of the first adults to go down with it and was so ill that she was admitted to hospital, for the staff were either too poorly themselves or too busy nursing the children to be able to cope. Patty and Laura, on the other hand, had had heavy colds at the end of October and this appeared to have given them some sort of immunity. Along with a dozen or so other girls, they remained unaffected, and it was these orphans who suddenly found themselves, for the first time in their lives, free of the rules and restrictions which had shaped their days until now.
Rumours that an armistice had been signed and would take effect on 15 November reached Durrant House. Patty and Laura were helping Cook by peeling potatoes and were surprised to find several members of the staff crowding into the kitchen. ‘You two – Patty and Laura – the war is officially over and we are to take down the black-out blinds,’ Miss Briggs said, and Patty saw that there were tears of joy in the teacher’s eyes. ‘There won’t be any more of those terrible Zeppelin raids,’ she told them. ‘And though they say rationing of food won’t stop at once, things should be easier. Ships will start bringing in oranges and bananas, as well as sugar from the West Indies and other things. She considered for a moment, then added: ‘You’d best not go into the sick bay because we can’t afford to have the entire school ill with ’flu, but take the rest of the blinds down as soon as you can.’
‘What shall we do with them, Miss Briggs?’ Laura asked as they set out to begin their task. It was a cold, grey day and Patty hoped the teacher would tell them to make a bonfire in the small square of garden. It would have been grand to do something really cheerful because despite the ending of the war the crisis over the ’flu epidemic had had a depressing effect on everyone. However, it was not to be.
‘Pile them up in the downstairs cloakroom,’ Miss Briggs said. ‘They’re mostly paper with wooden slats, but before we destroy them I shall have to see what Miss O’Dowd thinks. As you will realise, with so many children and staff ill there will be no one available to teach you so you must make yourselves useful in any way you can and try to be good. When you’ve taken down the black-out blinds you had best report back to Cook. No doubt there are some small tasks which need doing – both the kitchen maids have gone home to help with the illness in their own families – and of course in a place this size there is a great deal of brushing and dusting to occupy anyone not otherwise engaged. Now, off with you; I’m going back to the sick bay to see if the nurses who have been brought in to help need anything.’
Despite the fact that they were set to work on some task or other by every adult who clapped eyes on them Patty and Laura really enjoyed the day. There was a feeling of suppressed excitement amongst those who were well enough to realise the significance of what had happened on the Continent earlier in the week, and even the sickly ones began to sit up and take notice when they were told that today, Friday 15 November, was officially Victory Day.
When the girls were sent out on messages for Cook they were smiled upon by total strangers, one old lady even handing them a threepenny piece each for sweets. The greengrocer offered them, without being asked, a fine piece of rope to skip with, and when they were passing the pub on the corner a man shifting barrels gave Patty a rough hoop and told her not to bowl it along the roadway but to use the pavement. ‘It’s safer, because if I know anything, queen, it’s goin’ to get rowdier and rowdier as the day wears on. Why, there’s to be fireworks tonight, and a huge bonfire … right out in the street an’ all.’
‘Isn’t everyone nice today?’ Laura said as, heavily laden, they made their way back to Durrant House. They had thoroughly enjoyed their shopping trip and had felt truly grown up, paying for goods with real money and stowing them in the capacious baskets with which they had been provided. ‘Is it just because the war’s over, do you suppose? D’you think anyone would notice if we went back to me mam’s when we’ve handed over the messages? Only if we stay in the Durrant we’ll be working as hard as they can make us, Victory Day or no Victory Day.’
Patty thought it over, but decided that it would not be allowed – or not by Miss Briggs, at any rate. To be sure, she was much nicer now that there were fewer pupils to boss about and fewer teachers and staff to support her, but even so … no, she would not let them go that day. Regretfully, she told her friend that if they were going to see anything of the Victory celebrations it would have to be clandestinely, because otherwise old Briggsy would see that they worked until they dropped.
‘But I don’t mean to let anyone stop me going out this evening,’ Patty said grimly, as they chopped cabbage at the kitchen sink. ‘We’ve worked like slaves ever since the ’flu started; I think we ought to have some fun now and then.’
‘We don’t work as hard as the older girls,’ Laura pointed out. Once a child was thirteen she was expected to do a good deal of the housework and to perform such tasks as preparing vegetables for Cook. It helped to keep the place decent without having to pay extra staff and Matron said it was good training for later life, when probably ninety per cent of the girls would become domestic servants of one sort or another. ‘And they don’t just work hard because everyone’s ill with ’flu, either, they do it all the time.’
‘Oh, it’s excellent training for later life,’ Patty said in the sort of booming, self-righteous voice Miss O’Dowd used when addressing the children. ‘Horrible old hag! I bet she hasn’t used a floor-mop for years and years, if she ever did. So I’m off out this evening … what’ll you do? Honestly, I think we’re safe enough. Everyone who’s fit will go out, and the rest won’t notice what’s happening.’
‘I’ll come wi’ you when you light out,’ Laura said with decision. ‘Only think, to have to tell folk when we’s grown up and married, wi’ kids of our own, that we stayed in on Victory Night and never saw so much as one firework, or half a bonfire!’
‘We’ll pretend we’re going up to bed, tired out, and then as soon as it’s quiet we’ll make our way into the city centre, because that’s where all the fun will be,’ Patty planned busily. ‘I might meet me pal Toby … if he’s still in St Peter’s, that is. But anyway, we’ll have a good time!’
The rest of the day passed quickly and supper was served earlier than usual since there were so few well enough to eat it. Meals were being taken in the staff room, so the children ate rather better than usual since Cook could scarcely serve two or three different menus, but as soon as they had cleared the long table and washed up they were told to make their way to bed.
‘It may get a little noisy later, so try to get to sleep early,’ Miss Briggs told them as she shepherded them towards the stairs. She was now the senior member of staff and was clearly taking her position as Matron’s deputy seriously. ‘I’ll not wake you too early tomorrow morning; the bell will go off at eight-thirty instead of seven o’clock, because I shall probably not get to bed myself until late.’
‘And why do you suppose that is?’ Patty said sarcastically as the two of them sat on their beds waiting until they considered it safe to leave the building. ‘Because she’s nursing sick patients or peeling spuds for tomorrow? Not her! She and the others will all be off on the razzle, don’t tell me any different!’
And presently, when they dressed in their warmest things and crept down the stairs, the house did seem uncommonly quiet. No light came from under any door, and when they rather timidly approached the front door it was to find it both unbolted and unlocked.
‘There you are!’ Patty said triumphantly as they slipped out. ‘The only reason for not locking up is because you want to get back in later. I thought the staff would take the opportunity and nip off out, same as we are. Come on, queen, let’s find us a tram to take us up to St George’s Plateau. That’s where all the fun will be, you mark my words!’
They reached the Plateau and were soon joining in the dancing and singing, watching the fireworks whiz skywards, gazing enviously at the queues of eager people around the hot chestnut sellers, grabbing for balloons which someone was blowing up and then releasing into the windy darkness. At first the two girls clung to one another, but then they were swept into a dance, one they had never seen or heard of before, but it was easy; someone shouted at them, ‘Just watch me and do what I do!’
The tune was catchy, the words the same: ‘
Who were you with last night, out in the pale moonlight?
’ Legs kicked, arms windmilled wildly, people pressed closer to the man with the mouth organ who had started the singing. His tiny instrument still managed to produce enough noise for the crowd to follow. ‘
It wasn’t your sister, it wasn’t your ma, ah, ah, how naughty you are!
’
Patty was singing as loudly as anyone else, kicking as madly. She held a balloon in one hand and her hair had come loose from its neat plaits and flew around her shoulders as she tossed her head to the rhythm. Presently the dance surged in a different direction, and as she got further from the source of the music she realised that she had not seen Laura for several minutes, perhaps as long as half an hour! Hastily she tried to move back, to look around, but it was impossible. The crowd was good-humoured, but though she wriggled her way back towards where she could last remember seeing Laura, she was unlucky. Her friend had been swallowed up, as she had.
Patty felt a momentary stirring of fear. It was dangerous to be out alone in a huge crowd; people could get trampled underfoot, seriously hurt, killed even. And she and Laura had vowed to stay together. But it was no one’s fault. All she could do, now, was to make her way back to Durrant House and hope that Laura would do the same.
But knowing what one should do and doing it are sometimes two different things. Patty made her way back towards Lime Street station and then began to head in the direction from which she thought they had come. The only trouble was, she did not perfectly remember the way back – they had been on a tram, after all – nor could she recognise landmarks with the pavements, roadways and every little square and gap in the houses black with people. All the shops round here were closed, that went without saying, but the pubs were open. Every now and then, men and women stumbled and swayed their way out from the brilliantly lit doorways and some of the folk outside, eagerly waiting for just such an opportunity, stumbled and swayed their way inside. And presently, Patty found her arms taken by two plump and pretty young women, one of whom shouted in her ear: ‘Most o’ the pubs has run out of ale, chuck, but who cares? I could get drunk as a lord on water this evening! Me boyfriend were fightin’ out there on the Continong, but he’ll be comin’ home to me and we’ll get wed … oh aye, I could get drunk on water tonight!’
Patty tried to say she was happy for her new friend, but then someone staggered out of a pub with a full glass in his hand and gave it to the young woman who had just spoken. She drank, then held the glass beneath Patty’s nose and Patty realised that she was extremely thirsty and took a good long draught. It was bitter, not very nice at all, but it quenched her thirst and she was in the middle of thanking her new friend when the movement of the crowd wrenched them apart once more. Patty was actually lifted off her feet and carried along, to be deposited, presently, in what she took to be some sort of public garden since there were bare-branched trees overhead and earth beneath her feet.
She glanced a little wildly about her; why had the crowd come here? She could see no sellers of hot chestnuts, no balloons floating in the air. Then she realised that, ahead of her, someone had stretched a rope between two trees … and a figure, lithe and brightly dressed, was dancing, actually dancing, upon the tightly stretched rope!
It was an act! There were tumblers doing somersaults, the tightrope dancer, a man setting light to a huge taper and then apparently swallowing the flame he had produced … it was, in fact, some sort of fair or circus!
Patty pressed forward. Suppose, just suppose, that Toby had joined up with these people, was here, within a few feet of her! There were several children of about her own age in the gaping audience and presently she saw a thin boy just ahead of her. She stared; was he wearing the uniform of the St Peter’s boys? It looked remarkably like it, and he looked very like Toby Rudd. Patty felt the heat rise in her cheeks and excitement made her bold. She must get to Toby, if it really was Toby, and right at this moment she was sure it was he! Pushing as hard as she could, slipping through every little gap, sometimes hacking at ankles and elbowing stout stomachs, she squiggled through the crowd until she was near enough to grab the boy’s arm.
‘Toby? Is it really you? Oh, I’ve searched and searched … I found the brick easily, but …’
The boy turned round. It was not Toby. Patty’s disappointment was so painful that for a moment she was literally unable to speak. She felt as though someone had struck her a hard blow in the stomach, rendering her breathless as well as voiceless. But she could not just stand here; the boy would think her a complete idiot! She let go of his arm and tried, through the waves of disappointment still engulfing her, to smile.
‘Oh! I’m sorry … I thought … I thought you were a pal of mine, someone I’ve not seen for – oh, for months and months. You looked just like him – from the back that is – and you’re wearing the sort of thing he wears. But I see now I was mistaken …’