As Time Goes By (10 page)

Sam groaned inwardly. That had done it now. Sure enough, the warrant officer was marching over to the stairs where Mouse was now trembling so much Sam could hear her teeth chattering.

‘So you think I’m funny, do you? Right, well, let’s see how funny you find this. All off-duty time absent from barracks is cancelled forthwith for the next five days.’

Sam could feel the wave of emotion that surged silently through the other girls. Since they weren’t actually living in a large or formal barracks, the girls had got used to making the most of their off-duty hours by going into the unbombed part of the city for their entertainment, generally either dancing or going to the pictures, just as though
they were still living a civvy life, and so far their captain had turned a blind eye to this. They were a jolly bunch who liked to have a good time, and Sam could now sense their angry resentment.

Mouse, though, was oblivious to their reaction. She was staring at the door as though about to make bolt for it, a wild, blind look in her eyes that worried Sam. Toadie was watching her almost gloatingly as though she wanted Mouse to take the one fatal step that would give her the opportunity really to throw the book at her.

She had to do something to get Toadie’s attention away from Mouse, Sam decided, before Mouse really got herself into trouble, but what? She thought frantically and then relaxed as she started to wriggle her body frantically, scratching herself and tugging at her clothes, whilst the other girls tried not to break ranks and turn their heads to look at her. She let out a sharp ‘ow’ and then pulled off her cap and dropped it onto the floor before scratching her head.

Sam knew that Toadie couldn’t continue to ignore her behaviour. The girls closest to her were edging away from her as she slapped her hand down firmly against her middle, exhaled in relief, and then started scratching even more furiously.

Sam could hear the warrant officer walking towards her, footsteps heavy and deliberate, but still she affected not to notice her, as though she was too engrossed in what she was doing.

‘You!’ The command was barked into her ear. ‘Stand to attention.’

‘Can’t, ma’am,’ Sam gasped. ‘Biting me all over, they are. Gawd knows where I’ve had them from.’ Sam aimed another slap at her body. ‘There, got it … oooh, no I haven’t … Oh, you. Oh, ouch. It’s just bitten me real hard …’

Sam could hear the indrawn breath of the other girls as the warrant officer told her coldly, ‘Unfasten your jacket.’

Obediently Sam did as she was told. As soon as her jacket was unfastened the warrant officer yanked up her shirt to reveal the flesh beneath. Just as well she had remembered that trick Russell had taught her when they were young, Sam thought triumphantly as the warrant officer glared at the raised scratches on her skin and the small pinpricks of blood. Lucky too that she had just happened to have a safety pin in her pocket, and had been able to inflict a couple of ‘bites’ on herself.

‘You will go up to your dormitory immediately and remove all your clothes, and put them in a pillowcase to be fumigated. You will also strip your bed and remake it – after you have had a shower. I am putting you on a charge.’

‘It wasn’t my fault, ma’am,’ Sam objected, all injured innocence. ‘I reckon I must have got them from the barracks. Some of the men that come in there …’

Someone gave a small spurt of laughter.

‘Silence. The punishment I have already given your whole dormitory is now doubled.’

A ripple of dismay ran round the hallway. 

‘I take it there weren’t really any fleas?’ Hazel murmured to her as they all climbed the stairs.

Sam shook her head.

‘You do like living dangerously, don’t you?’

‘I had to do something. Mouse looked as though she was about to bolt for the door, and if she had done, Toadie would have had her down as going AWOL and then thrown the book at her.’

Hazel gave a small sigh. ‘It’s to your credit that you want to protect her, Sam, but you know that isn’t really helping her. She needs to stiffen her spine and develop a bit more gumption. This is the ATS, remember.’

‘I don’t think she can. She’s not eating and not sleeping, and some days she doesn’t even talk. I’ve watched her when we’re working together – it’s like she just isn’t really there. She wants her bear back desperately. It’s all she’s got left of her mother. I couldn’t tell her what’s happened to it.’

‘No, you mustn’t,’ Hazel agreed, frowning slightly as she added, ‘Look, I’ve got a few days’ leave coming up – fortunately for me, and for you, my leave won’t be affected by Toadie cancelling your off-duty leave of absence. I’m planning to go down to Dartmouth to see my chap, but when I get back, if the situation hasn’t improved, then I’ll try and have a word with the captain and the MO. It’s strictly against the rules to go over Toadie’s head, of course, but in this instance … However, I want your promise, Sam, that you’ll stop getting yourself into trouble. You’re both in my dormitory, remember, and what you do reflects on me.
So no more “fleas” or any other kind of schoolboy pranks used as diversionary tactics.’

Sam nodded her head.

It was almost worth being put on a charge to have saved poor Mouse and put one over on Toadie, Sam decided irrepressibly, half an hour later as she stood under the shower, grinning to herself, even if Hazel had made her promise not to do it again.

‘Mummy … please don’t go. I want you to stay here with me …’

Sally’s heart sank, as she hugged Tommy tightly and wiped the tears from his face. Normally he was such a stout-hearted little chap, never complaining and always sunny-natured with that impish, cheeky smile of his. He had started complaining of a sore tummy when she had gone upstairs to kiss him good night, and then just after Doris had arrived he had been violently sick.

‘It’s a pity you have to work tonight,’ Doris said as Sally explained what that happened whilst she nursed Tommy on her knee. ‘It looks to me as though he’s got a bit of a temperature.’

Sally felt as though her heart was being ripped in two. She desperately wanted to stay and comfort him, but the threats that been made against them were all too hideously real for her to ignore. ‘I can’t not go now. It’s too late.’ That much was true even if Doris would think she was talking about the Grafton and not the real reason she was going out and leaving her sick child. ‘Oh, Doris …’

‘There, don’t you go upsetting yourself as well. He’ll be fine. It’s probably just too much excitement,’ Doris reassured her firmly. ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ she smiled as she took Tommy from Sally.

His sobbed protest tore at Sally’s heart. She’d have given anything to stay with him and comfort him but tonight of all nights she simply could not do so.

Her heart was thumping as she hurried down the Close. Normally she looked forward to singing, and especially when she was asked to sing at something special like a wedding or a party, but tonight for the first time in her life she was almost wishing her gift away. What would happen if the accompanist she had been promised wasn’t any good, or if the Boss didn’t like the way she sang ‘Danny Boy’? She had reached the end of the Close and she gave a shocked protest as a man loomed out of the shadows in front of her, blocking her path.

‘You’re cutting it fine, aren’t you?’

‘You said I had to be there for seven. What are you doing here, anyway?’ she demanded as she looked up into the unwelcome face of the debt collector. He wasn’t the most prepossessing of men, with his watery too-pale blue eyes and his over-red face with its ex-boxer’s misshapen nose.

‘The Boss sent me to make sure you got to her party safe and sound.’ He leered at her, revealing broken teeth. ‘Come on, get in,’ he demanded, urging her towards a car parked discreetly almost out of sight. Sally’s eyes widened. Private car
owners were not supposed to be driving because of the need to conserve what petrol there was for the war effort. Some people, though, obviously lived by their own rules. Sally couldn’t stop herself giving a small shiver.

‘I’ll make my own way there. The number nineteen bus—’

‘Get in the car.’

Was she imagining that menacing tone in his voice? She certainly knew she wasn’t imagining the grip he had on her arm.

The public house where the party was being held was on a street off Scotland Road, in what was well known to be one of the most run-down and notorious parts of the city. It was certainly somewhere that Sally would never have dreamed of going on her own, especially before the war.

When the Luftwaffe had bombed the city nonstop for a full week at the beginning of May 1941, these streets had borne much of the brunt of the attack. There was no sign of any war damage, though, on the corner of the street where the pub stood, music and light spilling out from its open door, with the same careless disregard for the blackout laws as the driver of the car had for the petrol shortage.

The driver brought the car to a halt outside the open door.

A thickset man appeared out of nowhere to bar her way as Sally headed for the open door, whilst a few yards away a man was standing in the gutter
urinating. Quickly Sally looked away. This was even worse than she had feared.

‘It’s all right, Jack, she’s legit,’ the debt collector told him. ‘The Boss arrived yet, has she?’

‘Five minutes ago. She’s upstairs, Sid,’ the bouncer replied. ‘The Boss says you’ve to go over and collect her Pete and Ryan. And get ’em here in double-quick time or else. She’s bin complaining for the last five minutes that you’ve teken too long to get here. You know what she’s like when she’s in one of her moods.’

‘Come on,’ said the man called Sid to Sally, ‘and be warned, the Boss don’t tek kindly to them as don’t jump to it when she says to.’

Sally could tell that he was afraid of the woman he worked for, and her feelings of anxiety and unease increased.

‘Rules us all with an iron rod, she does, them as works for her and her own sons as well.’

Sally suspected that he wasn’t so much explaining things to her as excusing his own fear. ‘And she don’t have much time for other wimmin neither,’ he added, ‘least not from the way she has them daughters-in-law of hers feared to death of her.’

He had taken hold of her arm as though she were a prisoner and he her gaoler, Sally recognised, as he hurried her into the narrow passageway that opened on to the two rooms either side of the bar. Ignoring those, he urged her towards the stairs. The pub smelled of stale beer and cigarettes, mixed with the rank sour odour of unwashed flesh and urine. The stairs were steep and uncarpeted,
giving on to a windowless landing. The debt collector knocked briskly on a closed door.

‘It’s me, Eric, and I’ve brought the singer for the Boss,’ he called out.

Almost instantly the door opened to reveal another thickset man much like the one downstairs. As he stood back Sally could see a long trestle table piled high with food whilst a temporary bar had been set up on an opposite wall. In the middle of the wall opposite the door a small elderly woman was seated in a wooden chair, one clawlike hand resting on the top of a walking stick. Her white hair was drawn back off her face into a bun and her eyes were the sharpest and the coldest Sally had ever seen.

‘Here’s the singer, Boss,’ Sid, the debt collector, announced.

‘Where the hell have you bin? You should have had her ’ere before now. Get yourself off and get them two lads of mine back here, and think on that it’s you that I’ll be holding responsible if neither of them is fit to stand up.’

Sid had been backing towards the door all the time his employer had been speaking, but she had lost interest in him now and was focusing her attention on Sally instead.

‘So … you reckon you can sing, do you?’ she demanded. Her voice was as cold as her eyes, unwarmed by its faint Irish brogue.

‘I don’t know. I … I stand in sometimes for one of the Waltonettes.’

‘So I hear.’ Without taking her eyes off Sally, she said sharply, ‘Taken a real fancy to you, my
Pete has, but don’t go getting any ideas. I like to pick me own daughters-in-law and my lads, all but Kieron, are already wed.’

‘I’m a married woman myself,’ Sally told her stiffly. ‘My husband—’

‘Went off, leaving you with his debts and then got hisself caught by the Japs. Yes, I know. Know all about my customers, I do.’ Sides, the old man had a bit of a soft spot for you, I reckon. Give you a better rate than he should have done. You’ll find that I do business differently.

‘Come on then, let’s see if you can sing. Aggie,’ she instructed one of the women standing behind her, ‘go and find that pianist and bring him over here. Then tell Joe and Michael to leave that beer they’ll be drinking and come and sit with their ma whilst we listen to a bit of singing. At least I’ve got three sons that had the decency to get themselves here on time like they was told. The other two are going to have the sharp side of my tongue when Sid gets them here.’

The pianist was a thin nervous-looking man in his fifties with a large Adam’s apple and a bald head, and the piano a battered upright, which had to be wheeled out of a corner of the room and looked as though it would be out of tune.

‘Got the piano from a client who was overdue with his payments,’ Bertha Harris informed Sally. ‘Said it had belonged to his grandfather. From the fuss he made about it you’d have thought it was the crown jewels.’ There was no sympathy in her voice for the owner of the piano.

Sally did not think she had ever seen two more unprepossessing men than the two now standing with their mother watching her. Squat, with broad shoulders and long arms, they were plainly cowed by their mother’s presence.

She was like a small but deadly spider sitting in the middle of her web, waiting to catch her unwary prey, Sally decided. There was something not just chilling but somehow almost hypnotic about that gaze of hers, and Sally could well understand why everyone seemed so afraid of her.

Only one member of her family seemed unafraid of her, going to stand at her side instead of behind her.

‘That’s her eldest, Kieron,’ the pianist muttered under his breath to Sally. ‘Watch out for him. He’s his ma all over again, whilst the other four are just dumb lumps of meat that do what she says.’