Cockney Orphan (23 page)

What would happen if she lost her job? Where would she go? What would she do? She had imagined the rest of her life spent here at Dalton’s, moving steadily up the ladder of success, one
day to be sitting where Miss Cummings was now.

Connie sighed softly. Once the picture had been clear in her mind. She had been prepared to sacrifice marriage in her attempt to rise above poverty. But then the war, and Lucky, had come along.
Now, unlike Ada, she didn’t care what work she did. Lucky came before everything.

A stiff clearing of throat brought Connie back to earth. ‘Good morning,’ Mr Dalton said shakily as he rose to his feet with the aid of his stick. A stooped, aged figure in an
old-fashioned pinstriped suit, he was rarely seen on the premises now. ‘This, unfortunately, is a duty I am reluctant to perform. But one that I must undertake to ensure that our business
survives through the continuing conflict.’

Heads turned and anxious looks were exchanged. The room remained silent as the old man continued. ‘I am afraid we can no longer rely on our import business or our transportation
departments for revenue. Therefore – drastic changes need to be made.’ After sipping from a glass of water handed to him by Miss Cummings, he pulled out a white handkerchief from his
pocket and pressed it against his brow. ‘I am, however, relieved to say that, with our new management, we shall suffer no specific change to the numbers of workforce.’

An audible sigh ran through the room. ‘What does he mean, new management?’ whispered Len, glancing at Connie. But before she could reply Mr Dalton continued.

‘Our company has been selected to assist the war effort, the details of which are rather – er – complicated. Therefore, I shall sit and listen with interest to the information
provided by our new directors, the – er – United States Army.’ Mr Dalton sank down wearily on his chair.

‘What does he mean the United States Army?’ someone whispered behind them. ‘The old boy’s going barmy.’

Soon everyone was talking at once, until with a rush of air the door flew open and two tall American servicemen strode in. One ascended the platform, the other seated himself in the front
row.

‘Major Abraham T. Barker at your service,’ shouted the American soldier standing to attention on the platform. Everyone jumped as he added, ‘Here as representative of the
United States of America, her people and government!’

Silence descended.

Mr Dalton nodded uncertainly. ‘Please continue, Major Barker.’

‘Absolutely, sir!’ The major cleared his throat and looked around. ‘Folks, first let me say how glad we are to be here in your country. It’s our intention to assist you
in the winning of this war. Our men are fully briefed as to the pain you have suffered since ’39 and we come with respect and admiration, knowing that nothing can replace the loss of your
possessions and, in some cases, loved ones. But we must look to the future and from this day on add our strength to yours. Guess you’ve noticed plenty of our uniforms around London lately?
Well, you’ll be seeing them right up close now, on these fine premises of yours. Whilst you continue to do your jobs, we’ll do ours. Now, have we any questions?’

No one moved a muscle or spoke. Connie was sitting, as everyone else was, in shock. No one knew if this was good or bad news. They all stared up at the smartly dressed major, who was waiting
expectantly.

‘Go on, Len, ask a question.’ Ada nudged his elbow.

‘Why don’t you?’

‘’Cos you say things better.’

Len turned to Connie. ‘Have you any questions, Con?’

She nodded. ‘Ask if our jobs stay the same.’

Len stood up and spoke in a quiet voice. ‘Do you mean we still continue to do our clerical work?’

‘Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I mean.’

‘But,’ replied Len bewilderedly, ‘as everyone knows, our warehouses are almost empty.’

Major Barker smiled an all-American smile. ‘Have no fear, sir, once Uncle Sam takes over, they’ll be overflowing.’

‘But what with?’

‘Weapons, sir. Your country’s armoury!’

There was an audible gasp. Len steadied himself on the chair in front. ‘You mean guns, tanks, that sort of thing?’

‘That sort of thing,’ agreed the major.

Len stood with his mouth open, until Ada pulled him down on his chair. ‘That’s good news, isn’t it?’

Len blinked. ‘I don’t know.’

‘We’ll keep our jobs won’t we?’

‘To give you a clearer idea,’ the major continued before Len could reply, ‘Sergeant Clint Hershey here will tell you more.’

The army officer in the front row stood up and took the major’s place. ‘Pleased to meet you all,’ he said in a soft drawl as he removed his cap to reveal a smooth blond crew
cut beneath. ‘It’ll be my job to see that all goes smoothly and I’ll be around to help you folk in any way I can. Your books will be kept just the same, only it’ll be navy
and army stuff you’ll be entering, ’stead of domestic goods.’

‘But you can’t load tanks on boats like you can vegetable and fruit,’ someone observed in the back row.

‘Yessir, you can,’ the sergeant replied politely. ‘That’s what we’re here for. To install our new system, get your show on the road. We have a new way of loading
called roll-on, roll-off. Fork-lift trucks and pallets are used to shift heavy equipment as easily as you would a sack of potatoes. They enable us to stack warehouses higher, fill ships quicker and
move weapons faster.’

Connie wasn’t listening as the sergeant continued to explain how Dalton’s was going to become one of the country’s fastest shippers to the front lines of conflict. Instead, she
was staring incredulously into the handsome face of the soldier who had bumped into her on Paddington station that day in summer, when she had been searching for Vic.

Sergeant Clint Hershey was sitting in an army vehicle parked just inside the gates of Dalton’s. When he saw Connie and Ada he jumped out and hurried towards them.

‘Hi there, again!’

Connie felt Ada grab her arm. ‘He’s talking to you, Con.’

Connie was embarrassed as the sergeant removed his cap and smiled broadly. ‘Didn’t think I’d be so lucky as to meet you again.’ He held her eyes with his magnetic blue
gaze, then put out his hand.

Politely she took it. ‘Hello, er, Sergeant . . .’

‘Clint, ma’am. Just plain Clint.’

‘And I’m Ada Freeman, Connie’s best friend. We work together in the offices.’ Ada smiled sweetly as she held out her hand and the sergeant grasped it. ‘Connie
didn’t tell me she knew you.’

‘I don’t,’ Connie said as Ada turned to look at her accusingly. ‘We bumped into each other at Paddington station, that’s all.’

‘I’d never forget a face like yours,’ Clint Hershey said as he transferred his attention back to Connie. ‘When I saw you today, sitting there, I thought gee-whiz,
there’s the little lady that I almost ran over. Do you know, you were the first real person, other than ticket collectors, that I had a real conversation with in England?’

Connie smiled awkwardly. ‘No, I didn’t realize that.’

‘Did you find your fiancé?’ he asked quietly.

‘Yes, I did. He wasn’t far away.’

‘I’ve no doubt about that, ma’am.’

Ada leaned forward. ‘Fancy that, bumping into Connie again. Who would have believed it?’

‘Sure is one hellava coincidence,’ he agreed, smiling at Connie. ‘You sure brightened my first day in England.’

Connie smiled uncertainly. ‘Well, we’d better be going.’

‘Let me give you ladies a ride home in the truck.’

‘Oh, no – thank you.’ Connie pulled Ada’s arm discreetly. ‘We haven’t far to walk.’

But Ada stood where she was. ‘Oh, Con, you can’t say no. I live farther away than you do. And look at the weather.’

Sergeant Clint Hershey lifted his big hands. ‘It’s no trouble, ma’am. Gasoline and time are no problem for the US army. And that weather sure looks thick.’

Connie didn’t want to be unfriendly, but she didn’t want to give him any encouragement either. If he was going to be working at Dalton’s it meant she might see him frequently
and she didn’t want to start a habit she would later regret.

‘No, really,’ she declined again. ‘I’d prefer to walk.’

This time he nodded, but the disappointment was clear in his eyes. ‘Another time maybe.’ He turned and strode back to his truck.

‘What did you do that for?’ Ada demanded as she followed Connie out of the gate. ‘The poor bugger was only being friendly.’

‘You could have gone if you wanted to.’

‘And what would I have looked like, climbing in that thing on my own?’ Ada marched angrily beside her. They walked in silence until they turned the corner and then Ada burst out,
‘You can be a right snobby cow sometimes.’

Connie stopped dead. ‘I wasn’t being snobby. I just didn’t want to start something that would be difficult to stop.’

‘It was just a lift he was offering.’

‘And what if he was there tomorrow night and the night after?’

Ada shrugged. ‘So what? I wouldn’t say no.’

‘I know you wouldn’t, Ada. That’s exactly the trouble. You’ve got a really good catch in Wally yet you’re always flirting with other blokes.’

Ada’s face paled. ‘It’s none of your business what I do with blokes. And ain’t you the pot calling the kettle black! You never told me about Sergeant bloody Clint
whatshisname did you?’

‘There was nothing to tell.’

Ada laughed scornfully. ‘Pull the other one. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.’

It was Connie’s turn to look angry. ‘Nonsense, Ada. I don’t even know him.’

‘Well, he seems to know you.’

Connie knew they were heading for a serious disagreement. ‘Look, I’m not going to stand here arguing. As you said, what you do is your own business.’

Ada looked so annoyed the ends of her hair were trembling. She spluttered something that Connie couldn’t understand then turned away, swinging her hips aggressively under her red coat.

Connie was on the point of calling her back when she changed her mind. Perhaps they both needed to cool off. They were two opposites, which was the attraction of their friendship, but if they
ever fell out, which was rare, it was never long before they were speaking again.

Connie began to walk home. Her conscience was already pricking. Ada was unhappy. At the start of the Blitz she had been in love with Wally, refusing to leave London without him. Now, as their
affair had cooled, her mood was unpredictable. Wally had been good for her, and whilst she was with him Ada had been content. Was Jean, Wally’s sister, the cause of all the trouble? Living
with Wally’s family couldn’t be easy, especially as they were church going, which Ada wasn’t. Connie wished she had spent more time with her friend lately. Their lives had been so
busy and talking over problems had been pushed to the background.

Connie walked faster. She couldn’t wait to hold Lucky in her arms. All her worries disappeared when he cuddled her tight. He drew her closer to Vic and eased the ache in her heart. Life
dealt out so many twists and turns. If only Ada and Wally knew what they could have together, they would be afraid of losing it.

The days came and went and Ada continued to ignore her. They sat at different tables in the canteen and Len told them both they were silly cows. But as November came to a
close, Connie wondered if their friendship would ever recover. She’d tried many times to break the ice but Ada would have none of it.

Clint Hershey did not sit in his truck at the gate again, though Connie saw him often in the warehouse. The army equipment that arrived in the American ships had to be registered on entry to the
country. Connie and Ada took it in turns to complete inventories. Clint Hershey was polite and courteous, as were all the American servicemen who gradually populated Dalton’s along with their
English colleagues. She always noted his tall figure and blond head, six inches above everyone else. To her relief, he never singled her out.

The Christmas spirit was revived at Dalton’s as the smooth transition of management took place. Connie, like every other member of staff, was relieved still to have her job.

On the first Saturday of December, Ted Jackson met her on the way to work.

‘One for you, Connie,’ he called, jumping off his bike to hand her a letter. ‘Been a while, ain’t it?’

She took it gratefully. ‘October, Ted.’

He gave her a wink and hopped back on his bike. ‘Keep your chin up, girl.’

Connie’s heart was hammering as she slid the letter into her bag. She would wait until she had finished work to read it. As Ada wasn’t walking home with her, she’d be able to
read it over and over again, savouring its contents. Two months was a long time not to hear from Vic, although she had gone as long as three without a letter.

‘You look like the cat who found the cream.’ Len grinned, as, after hanging up her coat, she took her place by the window.

‘I’ve heard from Vic.’

‘What did he say?’

Connie smiled as she opened her ledger. ‘I’m saving it to read till after work.’

Len placed a handful of invoices in front of her. ‘Don’t ask me what these are. Mr Burns don’t know either. It’s all engineering stuff with newfangled names. Just copy
out what you see there.’

‘It’s like another language.’ Connie glanced at the strange invoices. ‘Bit of a change from tea and coffee.’

‘Mr Burns wants them completed for ten o’clock and then Ada will have to take them downstairs. Talking of which, where is she?’

Connie glanced at the empty stool. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You two still not speaking?’

‘I would if she spoke to me.’

‘You can cut the air in here with a knife, you know. Even old Burnsy has noticed it.’

Connie looked across to their manager’s seat, as yet unoccupied. ‘I’ve tried to make friends, but she cuts me dead.’

‘What’s the row over?’

‘Nothing really, just something silly. When she comes in today, I’ll make a special effort.’

‘Good girl. Well, I’ll leave you to it.’

Connie realized that it would probably end up with her apologizing, as usual. But if that was what it took, then she would. After this little spat, though, she would never again refer to
Ada’s relationship with Wally, even if Ada commented on it herself.