A Mistletoe Kiss (41 page)

Not that she would have changed jobs with anyone, for now, with over a year's experience behind them, even the toughest of the locks and the longest of the tunnels held no terrors for them. Despite the fact that the winter just past had been an extremely severe one, the three girls had coped with everything that nature, and the war, had thrown at them. When they were loading and unloading at the Regent's Canal dock, it often seemed to Hetty that it was only by a miracle that the canal had not been breached, but so far, though they had watched the dark aeroplanes roar overhead and the fires leap up, the canal and its craft had been spared.

Because of the severity of the weather that winter, however, raids had almost ceased, though they heard both on the wireless and in letters from family and friends that Liverpool had suffered a bad raid in mid-March. April, however, had been quiet, and since most of their leave would take place in May the girls hoped fervently that the Luftwaffe would not revisit the Liverpool docks.

Now, filling her haversack with things she would want whilst on leave – the hessian sack would be left along with the boats in the secure compound – Hetty voiced what they were all probably feeling. ‘I hope to God the bomber's moon stays behind good thick cloud cover in May, the same as it has in April,' she said. ‘You won't be in Liverpool long, will you, Alice? Didn't you say your mam and the kids were evacuated to North Wales? Sal and I will be too near the docks for comfort if the Jerries decide to start bombing Liverpool, and from what Gareth tells me, it's on the cards. The 'Pool is the obvious destination for the food and armaments America is supplying, so naturally Jerry will realise it soon enough and attack again. However, let's hope it doesn't happen whilst we're on leave. Everyone ready to go?'

She looked round the cabin, suddenly aware of how much she would miss her companions and their craft. Then the girls stowed their sacks away under one of the side bunks and made for dry land. They would catch a train and be home before nightfall, though Alice would be sleeping with a cousin and would catch the first train next morning, to join her family in Wales.

Hetty arrived in Lime Street at two o'clock in the afternoon and stood on the platform for a moment, biting her lip. Her grandparents had come out of retirement some months before and were taking a barge up and down the Leeds and Liverpool Canal, carrying anything the government needed moving. ‘It's our war work,' Gramps had written proudly. ‘We may be old, but we're not useless.'

* * *

As for Aunt Phoebe, she was working the afternoon shift today and would not be home until ten o'clock that evening. She had written informing her niece of this, and telling her where the key would be hidden, but Hetty found she had no desire to go through all the rigmarole of crossing the Mersey, only to find herself the solitary occupant of a cold and uninhabited house. Birkenhead had been bombed quite heavily, and though the Luftwaffe were undoubtedly aiming for the docks, the town had taken quite a pasting. Hetty had heard that the great floating crane known as the Mammoth had been sunk, as had two cargo vessels, the
Myrmidon
, which had been carrying government stores, and the
Empire Simba
, with its cargo of steel. Laird's had not been hit, but according to her aunt it would be many months before Birkenhead – the one-eyed city as Liverpudlians rudely referred to it – recovered from the attacks.

So what to do? But already she knew the answer. She would go to the Everton library, dump her haversack in the office and help Agatha if she needed help with her books, or sit in the nice warm Reading Room
with several copies of the
Echo
and catch up on local events. And Agatha would tell her how much she missed Max, and how lovely it was being married, for her friend had had a long weekend up in Lossiemouth with her new husband and had told Hetty that it had been a magic time.

Having made up her mind to go to Everton, Hetty set off at once and was lucky enough to catch a tram going in the right direction before she had walked for more than five minutes. Presently, she was running up the steps and opening the library doors whilst taking off her haversack, and beaming as her eyes met Agatha's.

‘Hetty!' Agatha said. ‘My dear, I'd not expected to see you for another couple of days at least. But how welcome you are! If I give you some money you can trot along to Mr Woolridge's and buy some cakes; doughnuts would be nice, or ice buns. Then you and I – and Mr Gower and Mrs Hibbert, of course – will take a little break because, as I expect you remember, we're on late opening tonight. Mrs Hibbert, I forgot you've not met. This is Hetty Gilbert, whom you've often heard me mention.'

There was no one waiting at the desk, so Hetty went round the counter and held out her hands, palms upwards, towards the librarian, shaking her head as she did so. ‘Oh, Agatha, I'd love to help, and buy some cakes, but look at my hands! Crewing a canal boat is dirty work, and though I was lucky enough to have a bath before leaving the compound, I'd not realised that train travel is a pretty smutty business too. I'm sure
my hands would do credit to a coal miner, but if I can nip into the Ladies …'

Agatha told Hetty to go ahead so Hetty made for the staff lavatery, thinking how nice it was to be welcomed back here as though she truly belonged.

Later, Agatha and Mrs Hibbert ate their doughnuts and drank their tea, taking it in turns to see to the incoming and outgoing borrowers, and Mr Gower, thanking them politely, carried his own share up to the reference section. Whilst they ate, Hetty told her friend a little more about her life aboard the
Shamrock
. ‘It's hard work, much harder than you might suppose. But at this time of year the countryside is so beautiful it makes me catch my breath, and in the winter, when we're snug in our cosy cabin with the stove blazing, we feel downright sorry for civilians sleeping in icy bedrooms, with only a couple of thin blankets to pull round themselves.'

Agatha agreed that this sounded pleasant as they washed up their tea things, and then Hetty went off to the Reading Room, where several old men were perusing the newspapers. A couple of women sat on the sturdy wooden chairs against the wall, eagerly reading the periodicals and commenting in low voices on the recipes and knitting patterns which were such an important part of any magazine in wartime. Hetty had brought a book in with her and presently became engrossed, but when Agatha opened the door and announced that the library was about to close she jumped to her feet at once, returned her book to the shelf and smiled at her friend.

‘Ready, Hetty?' Agatha asked. ‘Won't Mother be delighted when she sees you again after so long! Get your haversack and we'll be off.'

They arrived at Everton Terrace and presently old Mrs Preece was giving Hetty a kiss and urging her to take her things up to the spare room and then come down at once, since she had made a cake that very afternoon and the tea would not take a minute to brew.

‘I'm not staying with you tonight, I'm going across the water to my aunt,' Hetty said. ‘But I'll be back tomorrow, because Agatha means to get theatre tickets for the new show at the Empire. I wouldn't miss that for the world, because although we're supposed to get a certain amount of time off, we don't linger near big cities. It's too dangerous.'

‘The theatre!' Mrs Preece said wistfully. ‘Am I to be included in this jaunt?'

‘Of course you are, Mother,' Agatha said at once, sounding reproachful. ‘As if Hetty and I would dream of leaving you at home! And the weather looks set fair, so we shan't have to bother with umbrellas and wellingtons.'

The three women emerged from the theatre into a calm, moonlit night. The torches which had become an essential accompaniment to any such excursion were not necessary and they made happily for the nearest taxi rank, still talking of the show they had just enjoyed.

‘It feels almost like peacetime to go to a theatrical
performance and then go home by cab,' Mrs Preece remarked as they joined the queue. ‘Now, young ladies, the theatre was your treat, Agatha, but I mean to pay for the taxi cab to take us home to Everton Terrace.'

‘And I'll give the driver a tip,' Hetty said. ‘I wish I could make more of a contribution, but us boat women still aren't counted as members of His Majesty's Armed Forces, so though the government pays us we have to provide our own clothing and food out of what is really a very small allowance.'

‘I call that scandalous,' Mrs Preece said. Agatha tried to say that they would catch a tram, but since it would have meant a tedious journey with a walk at the end of it she allowed herself to be persuaded, and helped her mother into the taxi when they reached the head of the queue.

‘What a lovely night,' Hetty remarked as they climbed out of the cab and waited for Mrs Preece to pay the driver. ‘It's a full moon; I do hope it doesn't give the Luftwaffe ideas.'

The words were scarcely out of her mouth before the siren wailed and Agatha hustled them within doors, saying she would go straight up to her room and change since she would be fire-watching until the all clear sounded.

‘I'll come with you,' Hetty said quickly. ‘I might be able to help …'

‘You can help most by taking Mother and yourself down to our Anderson shelter, or the public one a bit further along the road,' Agatha said. ‘I know it's a
bomber's moon, but that doesn't mean the raiders are heading for us.'

Hetty agreed, though reluctantly, and presently they heard the drone of enemy aircraft and she and Mrs Preece hurried to the shelter and began to prepare for the night ahead.

And what a night it had turned out to be, Hetty thought, as she made breakfast and waited for Agatha to return home. The bombs had rained down, the ackack batteries had retaliated with all the firepower at their command, and Mrs Preece had insisted that they use the Anderson shelter which had been erected in their back garden rather than going to the public one. There, she had wrapped herself in a couple of blankets and gone off to sleep as confidently as though there were no bombing raid taking place overhead.

Agatha popped in just after the all clear sounded to tell them that she would be home in an hour or so, but was needed to assist in the Smithdown Road area, where a dairy, as well as a number of private houses, had been hit. ‘I believe Birkenhead – the town, not the docks – was hit as well; I'll try to find out where the bombs fell as soon as things calm down a bit,' she added, rubbing a hand across her smutcovered forehead. ‘But right now there's a good deal of confusion. All I know for certain is that they're bringing a mobile canteen to Sefton Park and need help there, so that's where I'm bound once I've signed off from fire-watching.'

‘Then you can have some breakfast and a wash,
I hope,' Mrs Preece said somewhat tartly. She and Hetty had left the shelter as soon as the all clear had sounded, but Mrs Preece, it appeared, had woken feeling hard done by and was not above taking out her ill humour on her daughter. ‘I'll put the porridge on; the kettle's already on the boil.'

‘Right, Mother, only don't make me any porridge yet, because it will take me a while to find out where I'm most needed, and I must phone Max and let him know we're all right,' Agatha said. She winked at Hetty, who was pouring three mugs of strong tea. ‘The library can open late for once. You poor girl, to be home on leave when the Luftwaffe have decided to come back.'

‘I'll be happy to help all I can, either by day at the library or by night patrolling the streets,' Hetty said stoutly. ‘We've been so lucky on the canal, it's about time I found out what a real war is like.'

She meant every word she said, but later that day she found out what war was like with a vengeance when a far worse blow fell on her, a blow for which, oddly enough, she had been totally unprepared. One of the bombs which had probably been aimed at Laird's or the docks had scored a direct hit on her aunt's little house, and both Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Alf had been killed outright.

‘Perhaps it's a good thing that the poor lass has so much to do,' Mrs Preece observed to her daughter as the two of them prepared a rather sketchy supper on the Saturday following the death of Hetty's aunt and
uncle. As people had predicted, the heavy raid which had taken place that Thursday was followed by another on the Friday, and since the skies were still clear – and the moon at the full – they feared that they would be blitzed once more during the coming night.

Now, spreading margarine thinly on the slices of bread her mother had cut from the loaf, Agatha agreed, though somewhat doubtfully, that the workload which had fallen on her young friend's shoulders might have its compensations.

Mrs Preece nodded sagely, fetching a jar of homemade strawberry jam from the pantry and placing it in the middle of the kitchen table, next to a pot of Marmite and another of honey. ‘There's no doubt being busy is better than being idle at such a time. But it worries me that Hetty hasn't wept; tears help, believe it or not. I remember when your poor father died …'

Agatha stopped listening, for she had heard the sad story of her father's death many times. Now, it was Hetty's troubles which filled her mind. The girl had had to get in touch with her cousins, to break the news of their parents' death. Tom had been given compassionate leave and was staying with relatives in Bootle. The other boy, Bill, was at sea somewhere and could not be reached. Then there were funeral arrangements to be made, and before that she had to get in touch with the Inland Waterways Authority to ask them where her grandparents were likely to be found. She knew, of course, that it would be somewhere on the Leeds and Liverpool canal but that meant little; they
could be almost anywhere along its considerable length, and when she found them she would have to tell them the dreadful news that their daughter and son-in-law were dead.