Down Daisy Street (37 page)

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Authors: Katie Flynn

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

BOOK: Down Daisy Street
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‘Oh aye, he were all right as fellers go,’ Jane said indifferently. ‘The trouble with war is that you meet someone once and then never again. Jimmy tells me they’re always movin’ aircrews around, though they usually keep them together. So it’ll be barrage balloons, will it? Well I just hope I don’t fall asleep, that’s all. Poor ACW Davidson got kitchen duty for a week when she fell asleep in map reading, and I’m sure I didn’t blame her. That woman’s voice was so flat and borin’ she might as well have read out o’ the telephone directory. Wonder what’s for grub?’
Despite their fears, the balloon lecture proved to be enthralling. Kathy suspected it was partly because the air force officer giving the lecture was young and handsome, with a pair of twinkling brown eyes, a tiny blond moustache and a ready smile. He made flying a balloon sound fascinating and explained carefully that the air force had decided to give Waafs a chance to enter this unusual trade in order to release men for more important work.
‘Though flying the balloons is extremely important,’ he added hastily. ‘As you must have realised, balloons prevent the Luftwaffe from coming in low and strafing civilians in the streets. They can bring down enemy aircraft if a Jerry should happen to fly into the guide wires, and of course keeping the enemy at a height means their bombing is less accurate. Yes, Aircraftwoman?’
ACW Whittle’s hand had shot up halfway through the officer’s explanation and now she stood up. She was a thin, raw-boned girl with very large hands and feet and a smug expression and now she smiled ingratiatingly at the officer on the platform. ‘Please, sir, people feel better when they see the balloons up there in the sky even though it means there are enemy aircraft in the vicinity. The balloons look so fat and comfortable, and you can see the Jerries don’t like flying near them. I’m from Liverpool, an’ the balloons do a grand job of keeping the bombs away from the docks.’
‘Yes, the balloons make people feel safer,’ the officer agreed. ‘But flying them is no sinecure. We intend replacing our seven airmen and two NCOs with twelve Waafs and two NCOs because men are both stronger and heavier than the fair sex.’ He grinned engagingly at them. ‘Oh, I forgot to mention that WAAF balloon operatives will get paid a good deal more than Waafs in other trades and will also have special rations.’
‘And a good deal more freedom,’ someone muttered in the row behind Kathy. ‘You get far fewer officers snooping around a balloon site and I’ve heard the fellers say that no one interferes with you. How about it, girls?’
‘So if any of you are interested in becoming balloon ops – or Bops as we call them – then, when your basic training is over, you can apply to go to Number One Balloon Training Unit at Cardington,’ the young man said. ‘We are putting the word about to Waafs in other trades that they can remuster but it is amongst the new entrants that we shall be hoping for the most support. Good afternoon, ladies.’
After he was gone, the buzz of quiet conversation became louder and more general. ‘He said you’ve gorra be strong and very fit,’ Jane said musingly as she and Kathy made their way out of the large Nissen hut in which the lecture had been held. ‘I dunno what to do for the best. I’ve gorra fancy to work on a station; I’d like to drive an officer around in a car or mebbe a blood wagon, only that might be a bit depressin’. But it would be nice to get more money and have a bit more freedom.’
‘But Jane, you can’t drive,’ Kathy pointed out. ‘So whatever you do, it looks as though you’ll be in for another training course. Do you think they’d take me on balloons? I know I’m not very heavy but I reckon I’m just as strong as you.’
‘From what the feller said and the way he smiled at us, they’d be willin’ to take a monkey provided it could learn to fly a balloon,’ Jane commented. ‘Oh, come on, we might as well apply. And even if you are too thin, we’ll all have the same medical and it won’t be like the FFI, because we’ve all had that and got cleared or we wouldn’t be in the WAAF at all.’
‘I suppose they’ll want us to lift heavy weights and heave on ropes, like in a tug-o’-war,’ Kathy said as they made their way over to the mess. ‘Well, I’m willing to have a go if you are because the WAAF wouldn’t be any fun at all if we got separated.’
‘Well, they’ve finished their basic trainin’, so Jane says,’ Jimmy remarked to Alec as the two of them lounged on their beds, both reading the post which had arrived in the early morning, whilst they were still sleeping off the effects of a raid over Germany. ‘Jane says she and Kathy have put in to be balloon operatives, but they haven’t heard yet whether they’ve been accepted or not. I thought that was a trade for men only.’ He peered curiously at Alec, also reading a letter. ‘Who’s that one from? It ain’t your mam; she always uses white paper and that’s blue.’
‘It’s from one of my great circle of admiring women,’ Alec said loftily, spoiling the impression by adding, ‘D’you remember that skinny little kid who came out with us a couple of times when I was staying with you in Liverpool? It’s her.’
Jimmy sat up and ran both hands through his soot-black hair, making it stand comically on end. ‘You don’t mean Kathy Kelling?’ he asked incredulously. ‘I didn’t know you liked her. Nor I didn’t know she liked you,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Give us the letter, then – I’ve known Kathy all me life so she’s got no secrets from me.’
‘Read your own damn letters and leave me to read mine,’ Alec growled. He folded the letter and shoved it into his pocket, feeling the hot blood rush to his cheeks. He was all too conscious that if Jimmy knew Jane was writing to him there would be one hell of a fuss and that was the last thing he wanted. In fact, he had been half shocked and half delighted when Jane’s first letter had arrived. Being as aware as he that Jimmy would not take kindly to seeing her handwriting on a letter to his best pal, she had got another girl to write the address for her. Alec thought it a pity that the other girl was clearly almost illiterate, but agreed with Jane that it was a good deal safer that Jimmy should not find out.
The letter he had just shoved into his pocket, however, actually did come from Kathy. It was a nice letter, bright and intelligent and full of gossipy and amusing bits of news. He had known very little about the WAAF, but now he knew a good deal for Kathy pulled no punches in her description of life at the basic training camp. She described her feelings on being forced to spend a day in the cookhouse, peeling mounds and mounds of spuds simply because she had mislaid an item of her equipment. On another occasion, she had been late for drill and had been ordered to do twenty laps of the perimeter track, with a great heavy kitbag filled with bricks across her shoulders, whilst the sun poured down and she longed, passionately, for a nice cold bath.
Jane had written to him twice and he had destroyed the letters as soon as he had read them, thinking it a good deal safer than keeping such explosive material, for Jane’s letters were neither funny nor chatty. They were somewhat basic, telling brief scraps of her life at the training camp but concentrating more on how much she wanted to see him again. Alec wanted to see her – well, he thought he did – but was certainly not going to say so in a letter which might, if one were careless, be read by almost anyone. Another subject on which Jane had touched had been Paragraph Eleven. Alec had not known what this implied but had asked a young Waaf on the station and she had gone cherry red before informing him, in an embarrassed mutter, that Paragraph Eleven dealt with Waafs who ‘got in the family way’ whilst still in the service.
Alec had been rather shocked and wondered whether he had misunderstood; Jane had been talking about a friend who was miserably unhappy in the WAAF and meant to ‘work her ticket out of the service’ by using Paragraph Eleven as a reason for quitting. Surely, no one in their right mind would consider having a baby, which was a lifetime’s responsibility, just to avoid remaining in the air force?
Still, he did not know the girl in question; she might be married for all he knew, though Jane’s laconic comment had not seemed to apply to a married woman. Anyway, he guessed that Jane did not find letters easy to write, was not good at communicating her feelings and had no ability to make events in her life sound either interesting or amusing. But what did it matter, after all? When one looked at Jane’s beautiful face and perfect figure, conversation – or letter-writing ability – would be the last thing on one’s mind.
‘Oh, come on, Alec, don’t be so bleedin’ mean!’ Jimmy’s voice brought him back to the present with a jolt. ‘It ain’t as if Kathy’s your girl or anything like that an’ I’m so bored! If there’s a gharry going into town, we might see a flick, only we’re on call, aren’t we?’ He glanced out of the tiny window nearest his bed. ‘It’s a clear afternoon so mebbe it’ll be a clear night, and if so we’ll be scrambled again later.’
‘Tell you what, I’ll show you Kathy’s letter if you’ll show me Jane’s,’ Alec said, causing Jimmy to give a crack of laughter.
‘Oh, all right, keep your letter to yourself. Did Kathy say anything about this balloon business when she wrote?’
‘Yes. She said they were applying but she didn’t think she’d get accepted, and if not she’s going for R/T Operator.’ He grinned across at his friend. ‘She might end up here! R/T Ops go all over the country so she could be posted anywhere.’
‘Yeah,’ Jimmy said thoughtfully. ‘Alec . . . you were so rude about Kathy, calling her a skinny little kid, that I never thought you might really have liked her.
Do
you? Only she’s a very bright girl and I suppose that’s made her a bit standoffish. It’s easy to tell when a girl like Jane likes you – she nearly lands in your lap – but with Kathy it ’ud be a lot more difficult. It ain’t that she’s shy exactly, but she’s been brought up to keep her feelings to herself. I didn’t use to like her; I thought she was stuck up – but once she and Jane were both in the factory together, I realised she were a grand girl really. So there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be serious about her.’
‘Serious?’ Alec’s voice rose to a squeak. ‘I’m not serious about anyone, not with a war on. Besides, I’m writing to other people as well as Kathy, you know. There’s a girl who live in our village, Bella, and that kid what I took out from Watton . . . it were just good luck that the couple we took out in Church Broughton weren’t the letter-writing kind.’
Jimmy gave a hoarse laugh. ‘Not the letter-writin’ kind . . . that’s puttin’ it nicely! If Jane knew about them two . . . if me mam knew, come to that . . .’
‘Yes, well,’ Alec said awkwardly. He still felt ashamed of the episode, which had happened on the last night they had spent at the training centre. The girls had been a couple of little floozies, eager for fun and willing to do whatever was asked of them, and – and Jimmy and me were both a trifle bosky, Alec thought now; what you might call market peart. Still an’ all, we shouldn’t have done it.
Jimmy must have guessed Alec’s thoughts because he leaned over and punched his friend lightly on the shoulder. ‘You’re a right little puritan, you are,’ he said mockingly. ‘I reckon a feller’s entitled to a bit of lovin’ when the girls are as keen as them two were. Oh, come on Alec, don’t look so Friday-faced. They was beggin’ for it.’
Alec couldn’t help grinning but he still felt uncomfortable whenever the last night at Church Broughton was mentioned. And if I feel bad about it, Jimmy should feel a lot worse, he reminded himself. He says he’s going to marry Jane just as soon as they can afford it, yet he went off quite happily with that little tart. It’s different for me, I’ve never had a real girlfriend, just pals like.
But whenever he tried to tell himself that his behaviour had been acceptable, he was forced to remember that Jimmy would kill him if he knew that Alec was encouraging Jane to play fast and loose. And I am encouraging her every time I reply to one of her letters, Alec told himself miserably now. Only – only she’s so beautiful and warm and loving, and she’s never known any feller but Jimmy . . . oh, hang it, I can’t help myself. I do believe that this time I’m in love.
It was a windy October day when Kathy and Jane, with their kitbags packed and their hearts high, set off for Cardington and the No. 1 Training Unit for barrage balloon operatives. They arrived there with a great many other girls straight from basic training. Despite an early start, it was already dark by the time they reached their destination. They were sent straight to the cookhouse, though it was far too late for the kitchen staff to be serving proper meals.
The train journey had been a long drawn out affair with waits on draughty platforms for connections prolonging it still further, but the girls were glad to get into the warm, even though all they were served with was wads and cocoa. Jane pulled her wad apart to peer at the contents and announced, gleefully, that at least it were corned beef and brown sauce, which was a good deal tastier than the bread and jam they had feared. Kathy, hunched up exhaustedly on her deal chair, had scarcely the energy to eat her own sandwich but drank two cups of strong cocoa eagerly and began to feel more alive.
‘I don’t know which is worse, to be so warm your chilblains itch, or so cold your feet might as well not be there,’ she told Jane. She glanced up at the clock over the counter. ‘Dear God, it’s half past ten already and we’ve still not made up our beds or been assigned to huts either, for that matter. It’ll be morning before we get between the sheets at this rate.’
They had already been told that, as balloon operatives, they would be issued with additional items of uniform but were astonished – and peeved – to be told presently, by the officer who escorted them to their tents, that this temporary accommodation would have to suffice since the number of Waafs taking over from men on balloon sites had taken everyone by surprise.

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