Chocolate Girls (33 page)

‘Oh, Ruby dear, very well done!’ Frances looked up, beaming. ‘You’ve got another lovely little girl.’

Edie felt as if every emotion she had ever felt was passing through her in that moment and she burst into tears.

In a few moments Ruby was calmly holding her baby. She looked up to see Edie crying stormily, Frances wiping her eyes, and Janet and Ethel both tearful as well, all in a ring round her. She grinned suddenly.

‘Oh my God,’ she said, ‘Look at the state of you lot!’

‘Well, he’s certainly brought a smile to her face.’

Edie sat down next to Ruby, who was discreetly feeding Greta Mae, the new baby, a cardigan draped over her so no one could see anything. Ethel and Lionel had been married that afternoon and were having a knees-up in a little dance hall off the Bristol Road with as many friends and neighbours as they could squeeze in. All the cast of the Lucky Dip Entertainers were there, as well as family and friends. They’d strung up some bunting and streamers, everyone had rallied round to bring plates of food and all the drink they could lay hands on, and the troupe were in fine fettle. There was always someone banging out a tune on the piano in the corner, and as often as not a group of the others singing and dancing along. Even Frances got up and joined in the singing. When Ethel had spotted the piano in the Hattons’ house after Greta was born, she asked Frances if she played, and since then there’d been a couple of sing-song sessions at each other’s houses. The two had bonded in what at first seemed to their daughters an unlikely friendship.

‘They balance each other out somehow,’ Janet said to Ruby one day when they were puzzling over it. ‘Your mother brings out my mother’s light-hearted side.’

‘Yes.’ Ruby thought about it, head on one side. ‘And Mom’s got quite a serious side to her, you know, thinks more deeply into things. Frances makes her a bit more sensible!’

Whatever the case, the sharing of Greta’s birth had certainly brought them close and they were both standing up by the piano belting out ‘As Time Goes By’ with full enthusiasm, Frances in a soft blue dress, Ethel resplendent in a skin-tight, shimmering, buttercup-coloured creation and plenty of make-up, her lips red as poppies. Janet was up there with them, and David, standing rapt at the edge of the group, a fascinated smile on his face which made Edie smile too.

Ruby looked over at the happy gathering round the piano. ‘Yes, he’s awright, Lionel is, he’s kind-hearted and good with the boys. I mean I was bound to be suspicious of him at first, wasn’t I? No one’s going to take the place of our dad, ever.’ Lionel was a lean man, rather suave, with a face marked by laughter lines and a smoker’s tarry voice. ‘I like him, and you just have to look at Mom. They’re only doing local shows now. No more touring, so things’re a bit easier.’

‘Your Mom’s dress is gorgeous – where’d she get that?’

‘She’s had it years,’ Ruby said. ‘Says she can just squeeze back into it now. Ah – look at your Davey. Never seen anything like it, has ’e?’

Edie smiled fondly, then looked closely at her friend. ‘You still look all in though.’ Ruby’s round face was pale and she looked as if she had not slept properly in a long time. Her expression had a lifeless look. ‘You all right, Rube?’

She didn’t ask if there was news of Wally. She knew there wasn’t. She ached with sorrow for both Ruby and Janet. Ruby looked down and shifted Greta’s weight on her arm but Edie could see she was hiding her tears.

‘Oh Ruby, I’m ever so sorry for you—’ She put her arm round her shoulders. ‘I so wish there was summat I could do for you – both of you. I’d do anything . . .’

‘I know.’ Ruby blew her nose. ‘Look, don’t set me off. I want to be happy for Mom today. But I tell you, Edie, I can’t stand not knowing what’s happened much longer. I don’t half miss work. At least it kept my mind off it. I mean if I’m never going to see Wally again I’d rather know now, one way or the other. I can’t stand imagining all these terrible things. Janet wrote to Martin’s parents didn’t she? I thought I might to write to Wally’s mom and dad and find out if they’ve any news.’

‘In America? D’you know where they live?’

‘Not exactly. But I know the town and their name – they own a shop. It might get there, mightn’t it? Only trouble is, I’m frightened to.’

‘Why?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Ruby sighed. ‘Some days I feel so sure of what Wally was to me, and others I feel I didn’t know him at all. I might find out he’s married with a family already . . . I’ll do it when I feel strong enough.’

Edie got up after a while and had a sing, but most of the evening she stayed close to Ruby and Greta, bringing Ruby drinks and things to eat. The Lucky Dips put on a show, dances and stand-up (‘Keep the jokes clean tonight please, folks!’ Lionel called out, to everyone’s laughter). Frances and Janet came and sat with them, Frances looking happy and invigorated.

‘What a marvellous occasion!’ she said. ‘We haven’t been out and enjoyed ourselves for far too long!’

Edie sat Davey on her lap, handed him a spam sandwich and looked up at all the faces round the table. For a moment she felt a pang, the old longing.

‘What’s the matter, dear?’ Frances leaned close to her. ‘You’re looking a bit glum.’

‘Oh – nothing really. I was just thinking about my own family – such as it is. No one here of mine.’ She tried to laugh it off. ‘Same old story, really.’

‘Well—’ Frances put her arm round Edie’s shoulder. ‘I suppose that’s the reality of it. But you know – we’re your family. I can scarcely remember life before Edie now. I don’t know if that helps at all.’

Edie took Frances’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Oh, it helps.’ She smiled into Frances’s serene face. ‘More than I can ever tell you.’

That winter everyone was tired and worn down by all the years of war, and of living within the tight restrictions of shortages and rationing. From Aunt Maud down in Kent they’d heard about the strain of living under the flying bombs. The news was improving – the Allies reclaiming cities one by one, Brussels, Antwerp, Athens – and the blackout had, in September, been eased to ‘dim out’, but it seemed to Edie that people were finding it harder to keep going, especially those carrying losses and sadness, or uncertainty about loved ones. Whenever she thought of this she felt lucky. Davey was her world and he was safe and happy at school. His teacher told her that Davey was an extraordinarily bright boy and quick to learn, and she had glowed with pride in him.

In the Hatton household they prepared for Christmas in the usual modest way.

‘We must make it nice for the children at least,’ Frances said. Edie had begun taking Davey regularly to the Friends’ Meeting House now he had started school and he liked to go and join in activities with the other children. Frances was delighted that they went. ‘But I don’t want him to think of us as being miserable and not celebrating . . . We’ll put up some decorations. All the children will like that.’

She got the children making paper streamers out of all sorts of scraps of paper, and paper angels and stars. They spent weeks making a nativity scene out of empty cotton reels and scraps of wool and packets and material. Marleen was immensely proud of it. There was a holly bush in the garden from which they cut sprigs each year to decorate the house and on Sunday afternoon Edie and Janet had gone out with Davey to snip them in the crisp afternoon air, and tug tough strands of ivy from the wall, to drape over picture frames and the mirror in the hall.

The next evening, when Edie finished work, it was damp but clear outside. She stopped for a moment as the others hurried past and stood looking back at the factory, Q-block stretching away to her left. The camouflage had been removed now and lights were visible inside, and Edie smiled at the sight of it. It was home to her. The factory had always looked enormous and splendid lit up at night. It was a sign of things getting back to normal.

‘Edie!’ She turned to see Janet hurrying to catch her up, hair bouncing as she ran, her bag tucked under her arm.

The two of them walked home chatting about their day. As soon as they got home, Marleen appeared. She had a little bow in her fair hair and was wearing a navy pinafore dress. She immediately seized Edie’s hand and pulled at it in her usual imperious fashion.

‘Come and see. We finished it!’

‘The nativity, is it?’ Edie laughed. The smile died on her lips as Frances came into the hall. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Janet’s hand go to her throat.

‘Oh . . .’ Her breath seemed to have got trapped. ‘Oh . . .!’

Frances was holding out a flimsy envelope and her expression was very solemn.

Janet reached out for it. Edie could see how much she wanted, and yet did not want to read the letter. White-faced, she took it without a word and went upstairs.

‘It came at midday,’ Frances said, shakily. ‘I’ve hardly been able to bear not to open it. It’s not Martin’s handwriting.’

Edie shook her head, sick with dread. Marleen was still pulling at her, chattering.

‘Now Marleen, just stop it,’ Frances snapped. Edie could see what a state she was in. There were tears in her voice.

‘It’s all right.’ Edie touched her arm. ‘I’ll go and see the nativity and keep her quiet for a bit. Janet’ll need you.’

But as she was following Marleen a scream came from upstairs and they both rushed back into the hall.

Janet appeared at the top of the stairs with the letter in one hand and from the other something large and dark hung down. Her face was quite still, white, like a mask. She started to come downstairs but several steps down her legs gave way and she sank down, clutching the dark thing to her. It dawned on Edie that it was the jumper she had spent so much time knitting for Martin. She saw Janet bring the back of her left hand to her mouth and bite on it as the sobs began to shake her body.

‘Oh darling, I’m so sorry . . .’ In terrible distress, Frances moved towards her but Janet started shaking her head. She wrenched her hand away from her mouth.

‘No . . . You don’t understand . . .’ She held out the letter. ‘Oh my God . . . I can’t believe it! He’s alive. Martin’s alive!’

The letter was on a sheet of thin, lined blue paper, in a rather cramped, sloping hand. Edie and Frances stood poring over it at the foot of the stairs:

Both weeping, Frances and Edie went and sat on the stairs on each side of Janet and put their arms round her. When Marleen climbed up to them, her little face stricken at the sight of them, they pulled her into their embrace as well.

Janet was like a person reborn. It was only now she saw her with hope again that Edie realized just how miserable she had been over the past months. They had a happy Christmas in the house, but a shadow still hung over everyone.

‘If only Ruby could have the same news,’ Janet said one evening. ‘After all, she’s already lost one husband and she’d got so much on her plate with the girls. I hope her letter managed to find Wally’s family.’

News was not long in coming. Within weeks after Christmas Ruby received a letter from the USA, in a sloping, looped hand, from an Ed and Louisa Sorenson. She brought it up to Linden Road to show everyone. Edie was surprised at her calmness.

‘I knew really,’ Ruby said dully. ‘I knew Wally was a good man and I know he loved me. If he could have been in touch with me somehow, he would have done.’