The Docklands Girls (8 page)

As she climbed into bed, it gave her a certain pleasure to know that no longer did she need to use her bed to make money by selling her body.

Over in France, the battle for supremacy and ground continued. The Allies had linked up the beachheads to form a continuous front. The Americans fought on, taking ground, moving on. But it took two long and weary weeks
for them to break through until eventually Cherbourg was theirs. The troops took a well-earned rest as the kitchens were set up and the food cooked.

Sergeant Milt Miller was proud of his men and told them so as they sat eating the hot, steaming food. He walked among them seeing they were alright, telling them what a good job they’d done, before partaking of any food himself.

He strolled over to a bunch of men sitting on the ground in a circle. They moved up to make a space for him.

‘Thanks,’ he said as he sat down. ‘What’s your name, soldier?’ he asked the man next to him.

‘Hank Mason, Sergeant. I remember seeing you around in Southampton.’

‘That seems an age ago, doesn’t it?’ Milt remarked.

‘Sure does. Like to be back there now,’ said Hank.

‘Did you leave a girl behind?’

Hank hesitated. ‘Well I did meet someone, but we said it was just friendship, things being so unsettled. You know how it is in wartime.’

With a slow smile, Milt agreed. ‘True, however I did meet a lady and we became engaged before I left. She’s coming to the States when this is all over and we’ll be married.’

‘That’s great. Congratulations!’

‘Now we’re here for a while, I’m hoping we’ll get some mail. That’ll cheer the men after such a hard time.’

‘Yes, Cora promised to write. I told her how important it was when you’re away.’

Milt rose to his feet. ‘Let’s hope the pony express gets through then.’

They were not disappointed and towards the evening
the men gathered around as the mail arrived. They stood listening for their names to be called and the lucky ones took their mail off to a quiet corner to read the contents.

‘Jackson Butler!’ called the soldier delivering the letters.

Jackson pushed forward, retrieved two letters and took them away. They were from Belle. He sat on the ground and opened the first one.

It went on to tell him bits of gossip about the Horse and Groom and her friends.

Jackson read it again, lit a cigarette and then opened the other letter.

He was delighted to hear from Belle and surprised, but pleased she was off the streets. In his mind she was far too good a woman to be selling herself, but at the same time realising had she not have been doing so, they would never have got together. He took out a pad from his kit bag and started to write back to her.

Milt had a letter from Hildy and a couple from home. Much as he wanted to read them, he had to get his men settled for the night so after he was finished he’d have time.

The cook made some coffee and handed it to Milt. ‘Here you are, Sergeant. I guess you could use one of these.’

Milt thanked him and took it to his tent. He read the family ones first. All was well with them and they brought him up to date with family news. He put these in his pocket and opened one from Hildy.

He undressed, climbed into bed and read the letter one more time before falling asleep.

Not everyone who’d received mail was happy. Some men had received Dear John letters breaking off relationships and engagements. Others had received news of a death in their families and were unable to do anything about it other than to write and express their sympathies, others wrote in anger. But this was wartime and such things were inevitable.

Olive was pleased with her lodger. He was quiet and tidy in the bathroom, but kept his bedroom door locked, as she found out one day when she tried the door.

If they ever met in the hallway, he was polite but never paused to chat. She was now becoming curious about the man. Was did he do? If she tried to question him, he was evasive. Like the other day when she met him as he walked through the front door on her afternoon off.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Dickson,’ he said, tipping his hat.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Keating. Your half-day too?’

‘Not really, so if you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork to see to,’ and he left her standing as he walked up the stairs.

Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t like being dismissed so readily. She was so used to being in control that his attitude irked her somewhat. But there was nothing she could do about it and the money he paid for his rent was more than useful.

In his bedroom, Joe Keating smiled to himself.
Nosey old woman
, he thought. It gave him a certain pleasure in being evasive. It was none of her business what he did.
He removed his jacket, and taking a sheaf of papers from a briefcase, he sat on the bed, reading through them and taking notes.

Cora was still working the streets, much to Belle’s consternation. After her experience, she worried about her friend and tried to persuade her to join her working at the factory.

‘Look, love,’ said Belle as they sat in the Horse and Groom early one evening, ‘the money isn’t at all bad and you can work overtime if you want. It’s not difficult. I’m working my own machine now. We could get a small flat between us and share.’

Cora looked thoughtful. ‘Do you think I’d be able to work a machine again? My stint in the factory was brief and a long time ago. Remember, Belle, I’ve been a brass since just after my parents died. I don’t really know anything else now.’

‘Oh, Cora, you don’t know how sad that makes me feel to hear you say that. You are young and beautiful. You have your whole future in front of you. You shouldn’t be on the streets anyway; you’re not meant for that kind of life. If you stick at it, you’ll age before your years. Trust me, I know!’

‘I’ll think about it, promise. Oh, look, that man over there just smiled at me. I think he was in The Grapes the other evening.’ She looked away quickly.

‘Perhaps he fancies you,’ Belle laughed. ‘He’s well dressed, clean. Maybe he’ll ask you for a date.’ She roared with laughter at the shocked expression on Cora’s face. ‘You could do a lot worse, love.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, will you behave! Anyway, he’s far too old for me.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t turn him down, but it isn’t me he’s interested in,’ said Belle. ‘More’s the pity.’

Cora finished her half of beer and, getting up from her seat, she said, ‘Well, I’d best start work.’

‘Think about what I said, coming to work with me, right?’

‘I will, Belle, I will.’ She walked out of the door.

Belle sat and finished her drink, thinking of the many years she’d sat in this bar and others, looking for punters. When one man came over to her and propositioned her, she just smiled at him.

‘Sorry, love, I’ve retired.’ Then she left the bar and walked home, made a cup of tea and sat down to read the letters from Jackson Butler that had eventually arrived. She was so relieved that he was alive and well. He didn’t say much about the fighting except that it had been bad.

She brushed the tears away as she read them. If anything happened to him, she would never know. After all, it would be his family who would be told the bad news, certainly not her. They wouldn’t know of her relationship with their son, and if they ever did, the knowledge that he’d been with a white woman … she couldn’t imagine the effect that would have. With a sigh, she undressed and climbed into bed.

Cora entered the bar of the Horse and Groom just before closing time. She was weary and ordered a gin and tonic. A
British soldier came over to her. He’d been drinking heavily and his speech was slurred.

‘Hello gorgeous! I’ve got a couple of hours before I’m due back at camp and I’m going to spend them with you.’

‘No, I’m afraid you’re not,’ she said quietly.

‘What’s the matter? My money not good enough?’

She looked up at him. ‘That’s not the point; I’ve finished working for the night.’

He became abusive but thankfully the landlord came over and grabbed him by the arm.

‘That’s enough, son. Leave the lady alone or I’ll chuck you out!’

Another soldier came over and apologised. ‘Sorry, I’ll take him back to camp when I’ve finished my drink.’ He led his colleague away and a little later the two of them left the bar.

Cora was relieved. The last thing she needed was a belligerent punter. She’d been thinking about Belle’s idea and the drunken soldier had helped her come to a decision. Belle was right. It was time to move on. She finished the last of her drink and left the pub.

There was no moon that night and Canal Walk was darker than ever. She switched on her torch and started to make her way home. She’d passed the Lord Roberts when she was suddenly grabbed roughly by the arm.

‘Right you, little bitch! Who do you think you are, turning me and my money down?’

The smell of alcohol from the man’s breath filled her nostrils and when she shone her torch into his face she recognised the drunken soldier who’d approached her earlier.

‘Leave me alone!’ she cried and tried to shake off his hold. To no avail. Now she was really scared, but before she could scream or call out, the man was sent flying and hit the wall behind him, sinking to the ground, unconscious.

A soft voice said, ‘Let me walk you home, miss.’

In the torchlight, she saw it was a man she’d seen in the Horse and Groom.

‘You’ll be perfectly safe with me,’ he said quietly, taking her arm. ‘Now, which way do we go? The soldier will be out for the count for some time, so don’t you worry about him.’

Cora didn’t hesitate and let the stranger walk her home. He waited until she’d opened her front door and turned to thank him.

‘My pleasure, but you really shouldn’t be on the streets, you are far too good for that.’ Then he walked away, disappearing into the darkness.

Cora was trembling, remembering how her friend Belle had fared and felt lucky that she hadn’t ended up the same way. Had it not been for that stranger … well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

The following morning, she knocked on Belle’s door in time to catch her before she left for the factory. Her friend was surprised to see her.

‘What the hell are you doing here at this hour? Are you alright?’

Cora quickly told her what had happened the previous night. ‘So I wondered if I could come to the factory with you and apply for a job?’

Belle shut the door and grinned broadly. ‘Well, you’re full of surprises! Yes, come with me, I’ll introduce you to
the foreman and put in a good word for you.’ She tucked her arm through Cora’s and they set off.

The foreman was delighted to have another worker and when Belle left them to go to her machine, the foreman took details from Cora and asked, ‘You able to start now, love?’

‘Yes, if you like.’

‘Then come with me.’ He led her to the factory floor, introduced her to Hildy and left the two of them to get on with an introduction to the machine which Cora would learn to use.

‘I have used a similar machine before,’ Cora said, ‘but it was a long time ago.’

‘Well, let’s see you get on,’ Hildy replied.

At lunchtime in the canteen, Belle joined the two of them over lunch. She smiled at Cora. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am that you decided to work here. It’s alright, isn’t it?’ she turned to Hildy for confirmation.

‘It’s not at all bad as jobs go these days. You can earn more money by working overtime – once you are able to work on your own, of course. You’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

‘Hildy is a good teacher,’ Belle said, ‘mind you, don’t let her catch you slacking because she can be a bit hard.’

‘It’s part of my job,’ Hildy explained. ‘Some girls try it on … but only once. If they don’t pull their weight they’re out of a job. But I know I won’t have any trouble with you two.’

And so Southampton lost two of their ladies of the night.

Hildy let herself into her flat at the end of her working day. She undressed, ran a bath and soaked her aching body in the hot water. She’d worked overtime and was weary, but she was saving her money for the time that she went to America and married Milt.

She lay back in the bath, slopping water over her shoulders with the wet sponge. God, she wished he was here now, she missed him so much, but at least she was now receiving mail from him. He sounded cheerful. The men in his company were doing a good job and he was proud of them, but of course, like her, he couldn’t wait for the war to be over so they could start a life together.

For her part, she was relieved that her mother had taken in a lodger and was proving that, when necessary, she was well able to look after herself. Hildy hadn’t called on her. What was the point? She’d only be met with verbal grief. The day she’d walked out of the family house she felt as if a weight had been removed from her shoulders and when the day came that she sailed away from Southampton to a new life, she would have
no feelings of guilt. She’d served her time as a daughter and been unloved by a woman who could only think of herself.

Joe Keating was walking along the street when he saw the young woman he’d saved from the attentions of the drunken soldier the other night. She had a cigarette in her mouth and appeared to be searching for a light. He stopped beside her and handed her his lighter.

‘Here, try this.’

Cora looked up and smiled when she recognised him. ‘Thank you. You’ve come to my rescue yet again!’

‘I’d hardly call this a rescue. That sounds far too dramatic … Miss?’

‘Cora Barnes, and you are?’

‘Joe Keating, at your service. Where are you off to?’

‘I’ve just finished work and am going in search of a good cup of tea.’

Looking at his watch, he said, ‘Twelve o’clock. You’re starting early, aren’t you?’

For a moment she puzzled over his remark, then she started to laugh. ‘I have a new job, Mr Keating. I am working in a factory these days.’

‘You are?’ He looked surprised, yet pleased. ‘I’m happy to hear that; I told you that you were too good to work on the streets.’

‘That’s right, you did and to be honest it was the night you came to my rescue that made me change my occupation. I was really scared and decided to quit whilst I was ahead, so to speak.’

He grinned broadly. ‘I think this calls for a celebration.
Would you allow me to buy you that cup of tea?’

His invitation was so unexpected that for a moment Cora hesitated.

‘You’ll be perfectly safe with me, Miss Barnes,’ he said, trying to hide a smile.

She burst out laughing. ‘Of that I’m in no doubt! Thank you, I’d be delighted.’

They found a nearby cafe and sat down at a table near the window.

‘Would you like a sandwich or something?’ asked Joe.

‘Oh, no thanks, a cup of tea will be fine.’ She looked at her companion and, filled with curiosity, asked, ‘Do you work around here, Mr Keating?’

‘Yes, at the moment I work for the National Provincial Bank in an advisory capacity. The bank’s introducing a new system and I’m here to oversee it.’

‘You are?’

He looked amused at her surprise. ‘What did you think I did for a living?’

Cora chuckled and, with twinkling eyes, said, ‘Oh, I don’t know. Nothing as mundane as that.’ She gave the matter a moment’s thought. ‘I was convinced it was something far more exciting. To me, you are a man of mystery.’

He started to laugh. ‘Really? No, I’m just an ordinary man trying to make a living.’

‘I don’t think you are ordinary at all. I would say there is far more to you than that: I’m convinced you are a man with a secret past … or present even.’

‘You have too lively an imagination, young lady.’

At that moment, the waitress served the tea and further conversation on the matter was closed. They
spoke about the war and D-Day, the number of troops who’d passed through the town, the fighting going on across the Channel and how they hoped it would all be over soon.

‘What will you do when that day comes?’ asked Joe.

‘After celebrating, I’m going to move up to London and start a new life,’ said Cora. ‘I’ve been saving every penny I’ve earned with that in mind.’

‘Will you be returning to your old occupation?’ he asked.

‘Certainly not! I want to put that all behind me. I’ll get a job in a shop somewhere, a nice little flat and begin to live! I’ll bury my past and start again.’

‘That sounds like a great idea, I wish you luck.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Much as I’d love to sit and chat, I’ve an appointment.’ He called the waitress over and paid the bill.

They rose from their chairs and left the cafe.

‘Thanks for the tea, Mr Keating – it was kind of you.’

He smiled softly. ‘The pleasure was all mine. You take care of yourself now.’

Joe smiled to himself as he walked away. What a delightful girl Cora Barnes was. He hoped she would fulfil her wishes.

Cora was telling Belle about her encounter with Joe Keating. ‘He took me for a cup of tea, Belle! He says he works for the National Provincial Bank.’

Her friend looked sceptical. ‘No, there’s more to him than that. You’ve seen the way he dresses. Those suits cost a packet and are made to measure would be my guess. You be careful, Cora, love. Don’t get involved.’

‘That’s hardly likely, Belle. We only met by chance on both occasions.’

‘I know, but I’m a great believer in fate. I think people come into our lives for a reason.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! You sound like an old gypsy telling fortunes.’

‘Maybe, but I’m seldom wrong. You just remember my words.’

On the battlefields in France, Sergeant Miller was certainly glad that Jackson Butler was in his life. They were in a small town, advancing with their company. Sherman tanks led the assault, with the soldiers moving in behind. The fighting was fierce as the town was well defended, the troops dived for cover wherever they could before moving on – the tanks climbing over rubble, advancing deeper into enemy territory. The sound of explosions and the smell of cordite filled the air. Cries of pain could be heard as the enemy made its mark. The ground was spattered with blood as both sides suffered casualties. Grenades were thrown and body parts flew into the air.

Soldiers moved on further with bullets flying around them. Just as Sergeant Miller urged his men to move out, Jackson spotted a sniper in a window about to take a shot at his sergeant, but he brought Milt down with a rugby tackle, and then lifting his rifle, shot the sniper dead.

As Milt brushed the dust from his face, he realised what had happened. He looked at Jackson with gratitude, ‘Thanks, I owe you.’

Jackson brushed his thanks aside. ‘I got lucky, Sergeant.’

Milt grinned. ‘No, soldier, I was the one who got lucky!’
Getting to his feet, Miller called to his men. ‘Move out!’

They spent the next few hours fighting every inch of the way into the town. As the casualties occurred, the call of ‘Medic!’ could be heard many times during the advance until the town was safely in the hands of the American troops.

It was only then that the locals, who had been in hiding, cheered the victors as they established their stronghold.

Reconnaissance parties were sent out, to scour the buildings and shots were heard as hidden German troops were found. Then those who surrendered were led away, hands in the air.

Eventually camp was made and the surviving soldiers took a well-earned break. Milt sought out Jackson Butler and handed him a silver flask. ‘Here, take a swig of this, Butler, because today you really earned it. My girl will be more than grateful you’re a good shot!’

Jackson took the flask, and with a broad grin, he said, ‘To the lucky lady!’ and drank.

The burning liquid felt good as it passed down his throat. He handed the flask back. ‘Thanks, Sergeant.’

Sitting on the ground, leaning against what was left of a wall, Jackson took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Apart from feeling dirty after all the fighting and the debris, he was happy to still be alive. Today had been really bad and he knew that they had lost some good men. He said a silent prayer, thanking the Lord for his salvation and praying he would come out of the war in one piece.

For his part, Sergeant Milt Miller knew just how lucky he was to still be alive. Had it not been for Jackson Butler whose sharp eyes had spotted the sniper, he would be a
dead man. He certainly wouldn’t be putting that in his next letter to Hildy!

Hank Mason had made it through the day, too. But as he sat drinking a cup of coffee, his hands were trembling. He had been so lucky. Two men beside him had been killed. He remembered the look of surprise on the face of one of them as a bullet entered his heart and he fell. He wondered how much longer the fighting would last and would he still be standing?

He was not alone in such thoughts. Every man who had survived this day wondered the very same thing, knowing that ahead of them lay many a day like today.