Authors: Kathleen McGurl
Matt stared at her. ‘Rabbit pie? No one here would eat that. Who’d have eaten it during the war?’
‘Joan. And the rest of them.’
‘Who?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Never mind. You get a table—I’ll bring the food.’
A few minutes later he arrived bearing a laden tray. ‘I got you a milkshake to drink. It goes with that fifties hairstyle you’ve got.’
‘Fifties?’ Kelly frowned at him.
‘Fifties, forties, whatever this new look you’re wearing is. I don’t know anything about fashion. You know me.’ Matt shrugged and speared a chip. ‘So, shall I come over on Saturday? We could go to see a movie. There’s a new thriller out. It’d be a good start to half-term.’
‘Yeah, maybe, though I don’t know whether I’ll be free on Saturday.’
Matt looked puzzled. ‘What’s up, Kells? We didn’t see each other last weekend either. Have I done something wrong?’
She shook her head. ‘No, no. It’s just I’ve got stuff to do.’ Should she tell him her decision? She supposed she’d have to, sooner or later, so why not now? ‘Thing is, Matt, I’m probably going to leave college, and get a job. I need to try to sort it out this weekend.’
‘What? Why? Thought you liked college?’
‘I do, but it seems so pointless. I want to be more useful—to society, I mean. Being a student is a selfish way to live. I’d like to be giving something back.’
Matt was staring at her wide-eyed. ‘But studying means you’ll be able to get a better job in the future and can give something back to society then. What do you want to do—work for a charity or something? You’d earn very little, so I hope this isn’t about making money.’
‘No. You’re not getting this, are you? It’s about becoming a worthwhile member of the community. Instead of sponging off the state and my parents.’
‘What do your parents think about this? Can’t imagine they’d be happy with you jacking in your A levels.’
Kelly looked down at her lap. No, they wouldn’t be very happy but she’d cross that bridge when she reached it. ‘Haven’t told them yet.’
‘Well you’ll have to talk to them first, won’t you, before you go off looking for a job. Got anything in mind?’
‘I want to work in a day nursery. Look after little children, so their parents can go to work. There’s one up the road from us that I pass on the way to the station. They’re advertising for more staff. I could do an NVQ in childcare on day release, so I’d still be studying as well as working.’ She speared a chip and ate it, awaiting his reaction. He was being so stuffy about it all. As if he was her strict Victorian father, rather than her twenty-first-century boyfriend.
‘Well, whatever floats your boat, I suppose. I’ll hardly see you if you’re not at college. Hardly see you as it is, these days. What have you been up to?’
‘Thinking about Jack, mostly,’ Kelly said. The words just slipped out of her mouth before she’d realised what she was saying.
‘Jack?’ A look of confusion passed across Matt’s face.
‘Yeah, well, he just fascinates me, that’s all. I can’t help it. I just wish I knew more about him.’
‘
Fascinates
you? Well, what about me? Do
I
fascinate you too, or am I not good enough any more? What is up with you? Who is this Jack guy anyway? There’s a Jack in your psychology classes, isn’t there? Is it him? Hmm? Is that why you won’t see me at weekends—you’re seeing Jack instead?’ Matt was standing now, shouting at her. ‘Well you’ve got to choose, Kelly. I’m not sharing you. Is it me or him?’
She stacked her plate, cutlery and glass onto her tray and stood up slowly, lifting the tray. ‘It’s not the Jack in psychology. Don’t be silly. But I can’t help thinking about him. I suppose I’m obsessed by him,’ she said, quietly.
Matt knocked the tray out of her hands. Crockery and leftover food went flying and a couple of girls at the next table leapt up squealing as they were showered with debris. ‘For fuck’s sake, Kelly. We’ve been together nearly a year and you do this to me? Well, that’s it. I’ve had enough. It’s over. Over! Happy now?’ He stormed out of the café.
Kelly bent to pick up her plate and cutlery. Thankfully nothing had broken but there was quite a mess. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to the member of staff who’d come hurrying over with a dustpan, brush and cloth. ‘I don’t really know what upset him so much.’
‘You don’t know?’ said a girl from the next table. ‘You told him you were obsessed by someone else. That’d be enough to piss off any bloke.’
Kelly frowned and turned away. Yes, she was obsessed, but by a bloke who was either long dead or at least ancient by now. Had she not explained to Matt who Jack was? And Joan? She had; she was sure. For goodness’ sake, he’d even been there when she discovered the writing on the wall. Well, if he wanted to dump her over a ghost, that was his loss. Not hers. Obviously she was right not to tell anyone about the presence of Joan. No one seemed to understand.
Ali looked at her watch as Kelly entered the house. Funny, she was back from college early today.
‘Hello, love. Had a good day? You’re back early. Did you have a free period this afternoon?’ She watched as Kelly dumped her bag on the bottom stair and kicked off her shoes.
‘I had a terrible day. Matt dumped me.’ Kelly went through to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle.
‘Oh no, love. Why? I thought you two were getting on so well!’ Ali felt a pang of real regret. Matt was such a lovely lad, and had been very good for Kelly.
‘I thought we were as well. But he seems to think I’m two-timing him. Which I’m not. I never would.’ Kelly threw a teabag angrily into a cup.
‘Why on earth would he think that? Can’t you talk to him? Do you want me to have a word perhaps?’
‘God, no, Mum. You having a word wouldn’t work. I don’t know why he thinks it. Anyway, it’s over, and I need to get on with my life now.’
‘Is this why you’re home early from college?’ Kelly seemed so fierce. Ali would have expected tears from her, after being dumped.
‘Kind of. No, not really. The thing is…’ She looked sheepish.
Ali frowned, wondering what else was going on with her. Seventeen was such a difficult age. ‘What?’
‘There’s a job going at the day nursery up the road. I’m going to apply for it.’ Kelly kept her eyes fixed on her tea-making as she spoke.
Ali couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘So, what about college? Your A levels?’
‘I’m giving up college. Might do an NVQ on day release from the nursery, assuming I get the job.’
‘Giving up? Is this because of Matt?’ Ali ran her hands through her hair. Just a month or so ago Kelly had seemed so settled and sensible. A normal teenager, going out with her boyfriend and mates, studying for her A levels and considering what degree course to do. And now here she was, dressed like something out of a wartime drama, saying she wanted to give up her studies.
‘No. Nothing to do with Matt. I was kind of making the decision anyway. It doesn’t seem right—me going to college each day and giving nothing back. Joan worked with small children. I want to do that too. Studying seems pointless when there are more useful jobs I could do. Like Joan did.’
‘What’s this about more useful jobs?’ Pete had just walked in. He looked from Ali to Kelly and back.
‘She’s not making much sense, Pete,’ Ali said. ‘She’s talking about leaving college and going to work at a nursery. And Matt’s packed her in.’ Ali hoped Pete might be able to make more sense of it all. Kelly had always been a bit of a daddy’s girl.
‘Hold on, one thing at a time. Giving up college? That’s surely nonsense, Kelly?’ Pete pulled a chair out from under the kitchen table and sat down, motioning for Kelly to do the same.
‘I’m sick of sponging off you. I know you and Mum are running out of money. If I earn, I can pay you rent.’
Pete snorted. ‘I may be currently out of work but we’re not so poor we need to send you out to work. And what—should we send Ryan out as well, as a chimney sweep or something?’
‘He could perhaps get a paper round, so you don’t have to give him pocket money.’
‘Don’t be silly. He’s not old enough. What did you say about Matt, Ali?’
‘He’s packed her in.’
‘Oh. Hardly surprising though, is it, the way she’s been acting?’
Ali stared at him. ‘Pete! Have a heart.’
Pete frowned. ‘So are you wanting to quit college because it’s all ended with Matt? To avoid having to see him? Is that what this is about?’
Ali rolled her eyes. That’s what she had just asked Kelly.
‘Not at all. It’s my own decision. I just think it’s time for me to grow up, stop being a student and do something more useful with my life. Something like Joan did. She was able to help the war effort indirectly by making it easier for other women to do their bit.’
Pete gaped. Ali shook her head. ‘What are you talking about—war effort? And what’s Joan got to do with any of it? Kelly, you are acting very strangely. Go upstairs and lie down for a bit. I’ll do dinner and then I think you need an early night.’ Ali expected protests but Kelly simply got up from the table and went upstairs without another word.
‘What was all that about?’ said Pete.
Ali bit her lip. ‘I don’t know. She is behaving very oddly. Let’s see how she is in the morning. Perhaps this is all her idea of a joke. It’s like she’s obsessed with the war years.’
‘Is that because she’s doing it in history? She’s taking it to an extreme, isn’t she, for someone who wants to give up college?’ Pete laughed and shook his head. ‘Yeah, you’re right. She’s having a laugh. Tomorrow she’ll be back to her jeans and stroppy teenage attitude, and we’ll be wishing we had the forties chick back again. And she’ll be staying on at college no matter what. She can get a Saturday job at the nursery if she really wants to, and maybe work in the holidays.’
Ali smiled. She hoped he was right.
February 1944
It was a foul evening—rain lashed at the windows and the wind howled in the chimney. Supper was over and Joan and Mags were sitting cross-legged on Joan’s bed.
‘Has he written to you yet?’ Mags asked.
Joan blushed. She’d collected the third of Jack’s letters from Mrs Atkins only that morning. She knew the contents of the first two almost off by heart, but she hadn’t yet confided in Mags. The most recent letter contained a photo of him in uniform, which she’d tucked with the letters under her mattress.
‘What makes you think he will?’ she said.
‘Oh, come off it, Joanie. You know that I know that you’re sweet on him, and he’s sweet on you. Now that he’s gone away to train up, of course he’ll be writing to you. And you’ll be writing back to him. I don’t know what arrangements you have for collecting letters from him—I guess he’s not sending them here. But I reckon you’ll have received at least one or two from him by now. I’m right, aren’t I? Or I’ll eat my stockings!’
‘Don’t do that. You know how hard they are to come by.’ Joan picked up a pillow and swung it at Mags’s head.
Mags ducked. ‘Hey! I only asked. You used to tell me everything. So, have you?’
Joan fiddled with her locket, and considered for a moment. Mags was right—she always used to tell her sister everything. So what was different now? Her friendship with Jack felt special, more grown-up than any previous crushes on boys. There were elements of it she wanted to keep to herself. But it would be lovely to be able to have someone to talk to again, about how much she was already missing Jack, even though he’d only been gone a fortnight.
‘Well, yes, all right then. He has written.’
‘He has?’ squealed Mags, clapping her hands in delight. ‘I knew he would! Go on, do tell—what did he put in his letter? And have you written back to him?’
‘He’s written three times. I’ve written one letter back and I think I’ll write another this evening.’
‘Three! Cor, he is properly smitten with you, isn’t he? How lovely, but to think you, the youngest, would be the first to find a proper sweetheart—who’d have guessed it? Go on then, read them out to me, do!’
Joan smiled, reached under her mattress and pulled out the little bundle of letters. She passed the photo to Mags.
‘He looks very handsome with short hair and in his uniform,’ she said. ‘But surely you’re not keeping the letters under your mattress, are you? Mother might find them when she’s changing your sheets. You’ll need to find somewhere better to hide them.’
‘You’re right,’ Joan said. ‘This was only temporary until I thought of a better place. I need a loose floorboard I could lift up, or a secret panel at the back of a wardrobe.’
‘You’ve been reading too many novels,’ said Mags. ‘I would suggest putting them in a shoebox at the back of your wardrobe. Even if she’s spring-cleaning Mother wouldn’t open shoeboxes.’
‘Good idea. Trouble is, I haven’t any shoeboxes.’
‘I have. I’ll get one for you. But not till you’ve read me those letters! I’m dying to know what’s in them.’
You’ll not hear
everything
that’s in them, thought Joan. She unfolded the first one and began to read Jack’s description of his journey to the training barracks, how he’d been issued with his uniform, gas mask and rifle, how his first allocated task had been to scrub the floor of the dormitory hut.
‘Scrubbing a floor? I thought he was off to be a soldier.’
‘They’ve to learn discipline first, he says, and that means doing any task assigned, immediately and without question.’ Joan read on—Jack had talked about the basic living conditions in the huts, the straw mattresses and thin blankets, the food rations, the other recruits, in particular his new friend Mikey.
‘All a bit dull,’ Mags said. ‘I mean, I’m sure it’s very interesting but where’s the really juicy bits? Where he tells you he loves you and can’t live without you?’
Joan put down the letter and glared at Mags. ‘Those bits are there, but don’t think I’m reading them out to you. A girl’s got to keep some things to herself.’
‘Oh, you’re growing up too fast, Joanie. But I suppose I understand you want to keep some secrets. Just don’t get in any trouble with him, will you? I mean, when his training’s over he’ll get some leave, and—’
She broke off as a deafening screech drowned her words, followed by a huge explosion that rocked the house. Pictures fell from the walls, a little vase of snowdrops crashed from Joan’s dressing table, and the girls were showered with plaster dust.