Authors: Daisy Styles

The Bomb Girls (38 page)

âWhich is why we all have to do our bit,' Ava said as she swiped away sentimental tears with the back of her hand. âI'll miss you, sweetheart,' she whispered as she kissed Shamrock for the last time, then, turning, she briskly walked away leaving the old mare neighing shrilly behind her.

Ava's last day at home was fraught with emotion; her little sister kept bursting into tears and if her mum packed her case once, she packed it twenty times. Their last meal together was eaten in an awkward silence with none of the usual family banter and easy teasing. It was a relief when tea was over and Ava could busy herself with washing up while her parents gathered round the big Bakelite radio where they heard the grim news that Germany had marched on Russia.

âBloody 'ell,' said Ava's Dad as he puffed hard on a Woodbine. âThere'll be no stopping the buggers now!'

âThe Russians are bound to put up a fight. They're not going to take it lying down,' Mrs Downham insisted.

âAye, but what guns and weapons have they got against the Huns?' Mr Downham pointed out. âIt could end up a bloodbath for the Bolshies.'

âThank God it's the summer, at least they won't be fighting in five feet of snow,' Mrs Downham murmured.

Ava boiled up some milk and made cocoa for them all then sat as usual by the coal fire with her parents on either side of her.

âWe'll miss you, our lass,' her dad said softly.

Ava took hold of their hands.

âI'll miss you too.'

She would miss them for sure but her heart skipped a beat when she thought of the wonderful new world waiting for her in Norfolk.

The next morning Ava settled her suitcase in the netted luggage rack of the compartment she was travelling in then leaned out of the open window to smile at her family, who stood on the platform with heavy, sorrowful faces.

âWrite!' her mum pleaded as she dabbed away her tears with a hankie.

âDon't forget me!' wailed her little sister.

âTake care of yourself, lass,' her dad cried as the heavy steam train pulled out of the station.

âI love you!' Ava shouted through a belching cloud of black smoke.

As the platform receded Ava sat back in her seat and sighed. The goodbyes were over; her adventure was beginning!

Having never travelled further south than Rhyl, wide-eyed Ava peered out of the window at the ever changing countryside, the wild northern moors gave way to the Peak District with tidy grey stone farmhouses nestled neatly between green fields where sheep grazed.

âWhat wouldn't I give for one of them woolly lambs roasted with potatoes, Yorkshire puds, mint sauce and gravy,' said a young lad in a soldier's uniform on the opposite side of the carriage.

âThat's never going to happen, lad,' said an older soldier, puffing hard on a cigarette next to him. âThem animals will be made into mince and spread thin across half the county. I can't remember when I last had a solid piece of meat put in front of me,' he added as he took a greaseproof parcel out of his overcoat pocket.

âFancy a beef paste buttie, sweetheart?' he asked with a wink.

âIn exchange for one of my carrot buns,' Ava replied as she opened a small tin she'd packed with home-made buns.

âThat'll be a rare treat,' said the soldier as he bit into the bun and nearly swallowed it whole.

âYou too,' Ava said as she proffered the tin to all the soldiers in the carriage.

By the time it had done the rounds there was only one bun left but the soldiers all gave Ava something in return for her kindness: half an orange, a piece of chocolate, another soggy sandwich, a cigarette and cold tea from a bottle.

The cheery soldiers got off at Peterborough where Ava changed lines. On a slow train to Norwich Ava's heart began to pound with excitement, she had to keep reminding herself that this was war work, her sacrifice to save the country from Fascism. The only problem was it felt more like a great adventure rather than a painful sacrifice and she was having trouble keeping the smile off her face. A third and final train took her to Wells-Next-the-Sea on the north Norfolk coast. As Ava walked along the platform she felt the sea air blowing breezily around her and tasted sea salt on her lips. Her stomach flipped with nerves as she joined a few girls standing outside the station in the dark.

âAre you going to Walsingham Communication Centre,' a cheery, red-headed, young woman asked.

Ava nodded.

âJoin the queue, we're waiting for a lift.'

The lift turned out to be a rickety old van.

âHop in, ladies. I'm Peter, gamekeeper cum gardener from Walsingham Hall.'

As he piled their luggage on the roof the girls squeezed in. Instead of sitting beside each other they sat on benches facing each other which caused them all to fall sideways, almost into each others' laps as Peter cranked the gears and the van bounced forward.

âHold on tight!' he warned too late.

Though the sun had set the summer light lingered in the eastern sky. Peering through the window Ava could see the town's people had dutifully pulled down their black-out blinds and Peter drove to the hall without any headlights to guide the way.

âHow do you know where you're going?' laughed one of the girls.

âInstinct,' Peter replied without taking his eyes off the twisting road for a second.

Ten minutes later Peter took a sharp left-hand turn and swung into a drive flanked by elaborate metal gates gilded with an elaborate coat of arms.

âThat's the hall,' he said as he dropped a gear to make his way up the drive that threaded through a deer park where even in the half light Ava could see fallow deer grazing under ancient oak and horse chestnut trees. They rattled over a cattle bridge then with a swoop Peter came to a halt in front of Walsingham Hall. Ava caught her breath; of course she'd expected a big place that would accommodate a lot of people but she hadn't expected
this
.

âIt's beautiful,' she breathed as she stepped out of the van and gazed up at the majestic building that towered before her.

âOne of the finest stately homes in the country,' Peter said proudly. âJust wait till you see it in the daylight, it's a fine sight to behold.'

As the girls tumbled out of the van Peter called out, âMake your way indoors, I'll follow with your luggage.'

With their feet crunching on the gravel drive the trainees pushed open the heavy front door and entered the elegant marble hall, which was decorated with ancestral portraits hung in huge, ornate gold frames.

âNobody mentioned we'd be billeted in Buckingham Palace!' giggled one of the trainees.

Her laughter faded as a grim-faced women dressed from head to toe in black approached.

âYour accommodation is in the South Wing,' she said in a voice that bristled with contempt. âFollow me.'

She quickly moved off as if she wanted no association with any of the newcomers.

âWho's she?' Ava whispered to Peter who was staggering along with as many cases as he could carry.

âTimms, the housekeeper,' he gasped under the strain of his heavy load. âShe doesn't like you,' he added with a wink.

âShe's made that perfectly obvious,' Ava replied.

The make-shift dormitories in the South Wing had been built in what must have been a series of connecting drawing rooms all with high ceilings decorated with swirling stucco plasterwork and elegant floor-to-ceiling windows draped in blackout blinds.

âIn there,' barked Timms before turning her stiff-as-aramrod back on the trainees and walking away with disapproval evident in every step she took.

âShe's a regular bundle of laughs!' tittered the cheery red-headed girl.

âDon't worry, you won't be seeing much of her,' Peter assured them with a chuckle.

âThank God for that,' thought Ava.

The yawning girls selected their bunk beds then made their way along the dark bewildering corridors to the bathroom, which had a line of sinks running along one wall and lavatories running along the opposite one.

âOooh!' exclaimed an impressed trainee as she switched on a tap. âHot and cold water, more than we get at home.'

âThank goodness!' joked one of the trainees as she dashed into the nearest cubicle. âOne minute longer and I would have wet myself!'

Ava cleaned her teeth, washed her face then dabbed her skin with a few blobs of Ponds Cold Cream, a parting gift from Audrey. Lying on a bottom bunk Ava pulled a blanket and a scratchy, starched single sheet over her body, then looked nervously up as the woman on the top bunk bounced around, causing the bed springs to sag and twang over Ava's face.

âWill I ever get to sleep?' she wondered as a few girls started to snore, a few even sniffing as though they were crying.

As Ava eventually slipped into a deep, exhausted sleep the smile that had been on her face all day remained there through the night; it was the smile of a girl who just couldn't wait to see what tomorrow would bring.