Women on the Home Front (64 page)

‘Oh, that's Connie's,' said Olive. ‘She picked it up in a jumble sale. I think she's read it to Mandy but it's a bit old for her yet.' Olive stood up and went to the bookcase. ‘This is my favourite,' she said pulling down
The Egg and I
. ‘It's so funny. I love it. Have you read it?'

‘No,' said Aggie feeling a bit miffed. ‘I don't get much time to read.'

‘I'm sure they're up to something again,' said Olive. She took Aggie's cup and emptied the dregs into the slop bowl before pouring her another cup of tea.

‘Who?'

‘The family. There's a lot of whispering and Clifford is always writing letters.'

‘Maybe they're planning something nice for the summer holidays?' Aggie suggested.

Olive gave her a withering look. ‘I don't think so. That Clifford always was a devious one. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him.'

‘And after all you've done for them,' Aggie tut-tutted sadly. ‘I don't know why you put up with it, dear.'

‘What choice do I have?' said Olive sourly. ‘Give him his due, he is a good worker.' She sighed. ‘We'd get along just fine if he wasn't always trying to change things.' She pointed to her friend's chin and Aggie wiped away some melted butter with her napkin.

‘Perhaps you should just come out with it and ask them what they're up to?'

‘I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.'

‘What about Connie?' said Aggie. ‘Couldn't you have a word with her?'

‘Constance!' Olive snapped. ‘That little minx. She'd only stick up for Clifford, wouldn't she. I still can't bring myself to forgive her for running out on us like that when she left the WAAFs.'

‘I think it's terrible the way they treat you,' said Aggie. ‘Especially when you've been so good to them.'

Ga smiled bravely. ‘Have another crumpet, dear.'

This was Connie's first Saturday off for some time but it meant that she was lucky enough to help with the church jumble sale. The church held several jumble sales during the year. They were a good way of raising funds for the building they hoped to have one day. Connie loved them and collecting jumble could be just as much fun as the event itself. Connie's duties at the hospital had stopped her from taking part in that, but as soon as she'd heard Connie was free on the day, Jane Jackson didn't waste time in asking her to help. Connie was at the hired hall in Mulberry Lane by half past seven.

‘Glad you could make it,' said Jane, giving her arm a squeeze.

‘Wouldn't miss it for the world,' smiled Connie.

‘Have you heard about Sally …?' Jane began.

Connie held her breath. Not more bad news?

‘Terry turned up,' said Jane. ‘It's all on again and they've even set a wedding date.'

Connie grinned. ‘Oh Jane, that's wonderful news!'

‘It certainly is,' said Jane. ‘Her mother is looking a bit bewildered but everybody is thrilled of course.'

‘Of course,' said Connie. She was so glad for Sally. The poor kid had had such a rough time and Terry had looked a decent sort. She'd drop her a line to congratulate her when she got back home. ‘Jane, I've brought Mandy along too.'

Connie's sister stood beside her beaming.

‘Hello Mandy,' smiled Jane. ‘You can help with the children's toys, if you like.'

The arrangements were almost always the same. The men would put a line of trestle tables along each side of the church hall, and some more tables in front of the stage. Books and children's toys were on the left-hand side near the door with women's clothing on the next two tables. The bric-a-brac was always on the end tables with any big items like an old pram or washstand on the stage itself. On the other side of the hall the tables were divided in two halves with shoes and handbags on a small table just before the hatch where teas and coffees were served from the kitchen, and then the other side of the hatch the tables were for men's clothes – not so many of those.

While the men were putting up the tables, Connie and Jane joined the other women in dragging the bags from the cupboards where they had been stored, into the main hall.

‘Is your boyfriend here?' said Connie giving Mandy a toy soldier to put on the children's table. ‘I'm the only one who hasn't seen him yet.'

Jane shook her head. ‘He's working today but he'll be coming to the outing on Whit Monday.'

They had plenty of helpers and any time someone found something they'd like, they would put it on the stage behind the curtain until the end of the ‘sort out'. The perk for helping was being able to buy what you wanted before the sale. The jumble came from a cross section of the village. Sometimes Connie was handling stuff from the upper crust and at other times she was dealing with things that had obviously been handed down several times already. And it didn't always follow that the good stuff came from the rich either. Connie knew it was often the roughest looking people who gave good, complete, unbroken and clean jumble while the obviously affluent might fob them off with rubbish.

‘I was half expecting Reverend Jackson to be here,' Connie remarked to one of the other women as she handed her a welcome cup of tea.

‘He'll be along later,' she said. ‘This morning he's interviewing somebody to play the piano for the Sunday services.'

‘At last,' cried Connie. ‘It's ages since Michael Cunningham left.'

They were about halfway through their sorting when a well-heeled woman in a big car drove up to the door. ‘I've brought you some things for your sale,' she announced in an all too loud plummy voice. Several heads looked up but everyone carried on with the job in hand. Eventually she spotted Connie. ‘Hey, you. Miss. Fetch them from the car for me.'

Reluctantly, Connie followed her out of the door.

‘I don't want anything for them,' she said handing Connie a rather large and heavy box.

As soon as she'd gone, Connie sorted through the boxes she'd left. They were filled with broken toys, cracked plates and cups with no handles.

‘She's just dumped her rubbish on us,' Connie said in disgust.

Rev Jackson had just arrived in the hall. He came over to look. ‘Put it all in the hallway, Connie,' he said shaking his head. ‘We'll put it in the pile for the rag and bone man at the end of the sale.'

Connie dragged the box into the hallway and then noticed an old tea caddy. When she opened it, it was full of green mouldy tea. She couldn't resist taking it back into the hall to show Jane.

‘How vile,' said Jane, jerking her head back as the musty smell filled the air. ‘Ugh.'

Something caught Connie's eye. She looked around and found a bent spoon.

‘What on earth are you doing?' cried Jane.

Connie fished around in the tea and pulled out a silver caddy spoon. ‘Voilà!'

Rev Jackson took it from her and looked at it a little more closely. ‘Well done, Connie,' he said. ‘This is hallmarked. It could be worth a bit. We'll take it to the jewellers after the sale.'

‘Ha!' laughed Jane. ‘I bet she doesn't know it was in there.'

‘And I bet she wouldn't have given it to us if she had,' Connie grinned.

Everything was ready by nine forty, so someone made them all another cup of tea. Mandy was going to stand with Connie on the children's clothing section.

‘Tell everybody, whatever it is, it's thruppence,' Connie told her.

Mandy nodded gravely, aware of her responsibility to make a lot of money for the church.

The queue outside was already snaking around the hall. At ten o'clock, Rev Jackson called out, ‘Ready everybody?' and a moment or two later having paid him sixpence to get in, the people rushed into the hall like a stampede of wild elephants and the sale was underway.

The first half an hour was manic. Most things were going for a song but sometimes people would barter.

‘How much is this shirt, love?'

‘A tanner.'

‘I'll give you fourpence.'

People pushed and shoved, some even snatching their bargains out of the hands of another. Connie was terrified that they'd get to the end of the morning and find somebody's flattened child under the table but even though a few children disappeared under the frenzy of shopping bags and mothers in search of a bargain, nobody was hurt. A few ended up with a clip around the ear if their mother missed a bargain because they were in the wrong place and getting under her feet.

Mandy was chuffed every time she put another thruppenny bit in the money tin and Connie could see the coins were mounting up. By eleven o'clock the worst was over. A few women stayed doggedly sorting through the mountain of clothes for something they could wear or remake into something else. Another cup of tea came round and it was most welcome.

And at the end of the sale, the remaining jumble had to be piled up and stuffed into bags ready for the rag and bone man who was coming at twelve thirty. They cleared the hall, the men put the trestles back under the stage and Mandy helped Connie sweep the floor. Battle-scarred and weary, some helpers were promising themselves ‘never again' until Rev Jackson said, ‘Thank you everybody. It's been a good morning. Not only do we have a new church pianist called Graham, but we have made seventy-two pounds three shillings and five pence,' and everybody applauded.

When they collected their things from behind the curtain, Connie gave Mandy the toy typewriter she'd seen her admiring as she put the toys out.

‘You were brilliant,' she said, giving her a kiss.

‘Is that for me?' said Mandy, her bright eyes shining.

‘Of course,' said Connie. ‘I want you to type me a letter one day.'

‘Oh, I will,' said Mandy. ‘You're the bestest sister ever.'

By the time they got back home, Gwen had lunch waiting for them, macaroni cheese, Mandy's favourite. Afterwards, while Mandy played outside with Susan Revel and Sarah Bawden, Connie sat on the sofa in the little sitting room exhausted but happy. It was good to have this little oasis of calm available any time she was able to be here.

Her mother walked in with two cups of tea.

‘Where's Ga?'

‘Gone into Worthing for something,' said Gwen. ‘I'm glad because I want to talk to you about something.'

‘Sounds serious,' Connie joked.

‘It is,' said her mother. ‘Oh bother, I forgot you like sugar in your tea, don't you?'

She hurried out of the room leaving Connie worried. Serious? What could that mean? Was her mother ill again? She didn't look ill and she had boundless energy since Clifford came back. Perhaps there was something wrong with Clifford. He certainly seemed pretty miserable at times and once she had caught him looking at some papers, papers which he stuffed under a cushion as she'd come into the room. Was he in trouble with the business? No, Ga would have said something if the nurseries were failing. Maybe there was something wrong with Mandy. She could hear her playing outside with Susan and Sarah. They were skipping.

‘Raspberry,

strawberry,

apple jam tart.

Tell me the name of your sweet heart.'

No, it couldn't be Mandy. She'd been full of energy at the jumble sale and listen to her now. If it wasn't Mandy, it had to be something about Ga.

Until her mother had pre-empted the moment, Connie had decided that this was the moment to tell her about Kenneth. Whatever Kenneth said, it wasn't right keeping his whereabouts from her any longer. She'd be cross enough that Connie had known where he was for almost two months now and that she'd been writing to him ever since and not told her. It would soften the blow a bit when her mother found out about his fiancée, but she still had to tell her about his terrible injuries.

Her mother reappeared with the sugar bowl and put it on the little table next to the sofa. ‘Sorry I was so long,' she smiled. ‘It was empty and I had to get some more from the cupboard.' She flopped into her chair and arranged the cushions.

‘Come on, Mum,' said Connie. ‘You've got me worried.'

‘This is going to come as a bit of a shock,' said Gwen, ‘but Clifford and I are thinking about leaving.'

Connie's brain was a little slow to catch on. ‘Leaving? Leaving what?'

‘The nurseries are hard work for little return,' said Gwen. ‘We don't mind hard work, but we want a better future for ourselves and Mandy. We've decided to leave Belvedere Nurseries.'

‘Is that all?' Connie laughed. ‘That's fine. What will you do? Buy a shop?'

Gwen took a deep breath. ‘Clifford read an advertisement in
The Times
,' she said getting to her feet. She went to find a tin box under the sideboard. Unlocking it with a key, she searched until she found a particular envelope and handed it to Connie. Inside was a cutting.
Calling all able bodied and skilled workers. Australia needs you. The Australian government is setting up assisted passages for British families. For only £10 you could have a brand new life for you and your family.
It was followed by a telephone number.

Connie's heart thudded. Her mother was staring at her anxiously. ‘Australia?'

Gwen nodded. Connie re-read the cutting. Her mouth had gone dry. Australia was thousands of miles away. It took six weeks to get there. It was on the other side of the world. She would never see her mother or Mandy again. She wanted to burst into tears, to shout and rant, ‘No, you can't go, I don't want you to go, don't leave me please …' She wanted to say, ‘Wait, you can't go, I haven't told you about Kenneth yet. Would you really leave him as soon as you've found him again?' She wanted to call her mother selfish and horrible but as she looked up again, something else kicked in.

‘That's amazing, Mum,' she smiled although her voice had developed a distinct wobble. ‘What an opportunity. All that way for just £10?'