An Army of Smiles Read online

  Summer in The Dell passed in a long procession of monotonous days, she and her mother creeping around trying not to anger her father. Few people called. With Glenys dead, the grieving distorted by lack of understanding, the house was unable to lift its shroud of mourning. As well as the tragedy of Glenys’s suicide, Ethel’s brother Sid hadn’t been seen nor heard of since the dreadful day she had found her sister’s body.

  When they were alone together, Ethel still implored her mother to leave, but Molly refused. ‘I married him and I have to stay,’ she insisted in the whispering voice they both now assumed, even when Dai was out of the house.

  As the time came for her to leave she told no one except the Baileys where she was going. She had taken a chance and trusted the family on the farm across the fields from where she lived, with her confidences. She felt the need to tell someone but only after she had made them promise not to reveal her whereabouts to her parents. Mr and Mrs Bailey, their son Colin and their daughter Barbara had known her all her life and would understand as no one else could how much she had suffered from her father’s temper. She had helped on the farm during busy times from a small child and had loved the busy, friendly house with its ever welcoming family.

  Early one autumn morning, with dawn nothing more than a glimmer on the horizon, and while the household still slept, Ethel took a small bag filled with essentials, including her post office savings book taken from her mother’s locked box, and left. She called at the Daniels’ cottage and threw gravel up at the window of Wesley’s room. She foolishly hoped Wesley would be home and she would be able to talk to him, make sense of it all, but when the window opened, it was his mother’s face she saw in the semi-darkness of the early morning.

  ‘I don’t suppose Wesley’s there?’

  ‘He’s long gone, love. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Please give me an address, I need to write to him, tell him where I am,’ she pleaded. Mrs Daniels shook her head slowly, her face a pale oval in the early dawn. ‘I daren’t, Ethel. Your father beat Wesley so badly the last time he tried to interfere, I daren’t risk him finding my son again. I’ve helped you as much as I dare.’ The woman wished her luck as she closed the window and pulled the curtains across, leaving Ethel alone in the silence of the morning.

  Pulling her coat more tightly around her and hitching her bag high on her shoulder, Ethel turned and headed towards the town. Walking across the fields, soggy with the October rains, she passed places where she and Wesley had hidden to enjoy their first shy, sweet kisses and mourned for the loss of him.

  Somehow she would find him. There might be a war on, separating people and making things difficult, but she and Wesley had vowed to marry and nothing could keep them apart, not the war, not her father and certainly not apathy. No longer would she be cowardly Ethel Twomey, scared of her bully of a father. From today she was Ethel Twomey, a woman who would go all out for what she wanted. And now, what she wanted was as much distance as possible between herself and her miserable home. She was leaving it behind and the shadowy figure that was her former cowardly self would stay there too.

  She had no idea how to set about finding someone serving on some unnamed ship in some unknown port somewhere in the wide world, but she knew that they would meet again and they would start a new life, far away from here, where her father would never find them.

  The atmosphere at the railway station was emotional as Kate Banner and Rosie Dreen waited for their train to arrive. Mothers, sisters, girlfriends and wives were there to say goodbye to their loved ones, seeing them off to fight in a war they didn’t understand, fearing that the anxious faces at the carriage windows would be their last sight of them, ever.

  The two girls were oblivious of the tension on the faces around them. They were going on an adventure and the realities of war had not yet risen to create anxiety for them. For Kate Banner, being away from home for the first time was intoxicating. She was unable to hide her smile at the thought of the freedom promised. A pretty girl, fair with unusual greeny-grey eyes, she wore her long hair loosely around her shoulders, curled laboriously each night, with a bright ribbon bow to enhance its loveliness. The smile on her full lips attracted a few wolf-whistles, to which she replied with a sideways glance and a provocative wink. Beside her, Rosie Dreen blushed in embarrassment.

  ‘Stop it, Kate,’ she whispered, ‘everyone is looking at us.’

  ‘Stop what? I was only being kind to these boys, and we’ll never see them again so what’s the worry? Going off to war they are, the least we can do is smile at them.’

  ‘There’s a lot more in your smile than in the others I see around here,’ Rosie giggled. ‘Promise them heaven you do, with your smile, Kate Banner.’

  Rosie was dressed in a brown tweed skirt and jacket over which she had a raincoat. Sensible shoes were laced firmly around her trim ankles, washed-out beige lisle stockings disguised the shapeliness of her legs, and she wore a wide-brimmed felt hat which cast a shadow over her face.

  ‘For heaven’s sake get rid of that stupid hat, Rosie,’ Kate sighed as the shy Rosie caught the eye of a young sailor and tried to disappear further into its protection.

  ‘I can’t go without a hat,’ Rosie exclaimed. ‘Not in October.’

  ‘Not in October,’ Kate mocked. ‘Heaven forbid you tried to look nice!’

  The train was approaching the platform and the crowd began to shuffle towards the edge, all determined to get in first and make sure of a seat. The engine puffed slowly and importantly towards them and, as it drew near, Kate grabbed Rosie’s hat and threw it on to the line.

  ‘Kate, that’s my best hat!’

  ‘I’d hate to see the worst one! Come on, push in after that man with the bowler. He’s not in the army, I bet you. Soft job he’ll have and I’ll make sure he doesn’t have a seat if we’re standing. On our way to do our bit we are and I’ll tell him that if necessary, see if I don’t! Go on, get in and stop apologizing. Those days are over for you, Rosie. Different girl you are since your hat got squashed.’

  The compartment was already crowded and the few seats were quickly taken. Kate and Rosie moved back along the train, squeezing past those standing, including the man in the bowler, and near the end managed to find two seats.

  The train didn’t move immediately and a man sitting opposite took out a newspaper and opened it in front of Rosie’s face. In their excited mood, they chattered loudly about their destination and the other occupants stared at them with disapproval, subduing Rosie but encouraging Kate to talk even louder.

  Embarrassed by Kate’s uninhibited excitement and the accompanying sour looks, Rosie dug into her pocket and drew out a couple of toffees wrapped untidily in greaseproof paper. ‘Here, this should keep you quiet for a bit. Nan made them and they’re stubborn-hard,’ she grinned.

  ‘You don’t shut me up that easily, Rosie Dreen. We’re going to have fun now we’re off the leash, see if we don’t!’

  The guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag and just as the huge engine began to pull away, their carriage door opened and a girl struggled to get in. Kate grabbed her suitcase and dragged it in, then reached out a hand to help the girl aboard. The girl, who was about their own age, had been running, her face was dotted with perspiration and her cheeks were flushed. She had a mass of strong black hair and her brown eyes, as she looked around the carriage, were twin beacons of suspicion. She cautiously looked out of the window as the train picked up speed, and, apparently satisfied, gave an almost inaudible sigh of relief.

  ‘Thanks,’ the newcomer said as she picked up her small case and threw it neatly up on to the luggage rack above the newspaper owner. She stood hesitantly, looking around the compartment assessing the passengers, judging whether she would be able to find a seat.

  ‘Interesting,’ Kate muttered behind fingers which covered her mouth. ‘Running away from something I bet you.’

  On the platform a man burst through the entrance holding a platform ticket in his thick f
ingers. He was heavily built and more than six feet tall. His hair was long and wild, standing out from his head and making him appear even taller. Like the late arrival on the train, his face was drenched with sweat. His eyebrows were bushy, his blue eyes bright with anger. The few people near moved away, his aggression clearly apparent.

  He questioned the station staff, demanding to know it they had seen his daughter, grabbing the shoulder of the guard and describing her as the man began to return to the office. A picture of frustration, he glared at the tail of the train and hit a hand with the fist of the other before walking back to where he had left his powerful motorbike.

  Kate Banner and Rosie Dreen watched as the late arrival nudged a man in civvies and asked, ‘Any chance of a seat?’

  Without a word the young man stood and smiled before limping slowly to the sliding door and going to stand in the corridor.

  ‘He was wounded,’ Rosie whispered in frowning disapproval of the dark-eyed girl.

  Ethel was ashamed but defiantly refused to show it. She stared down at Rosie, a haughty expression on her face. Others looked up, staring at the newcomer and then at Rosie, who* looked away, embarrassed by the encounter. She really hated to be noticed and wondered at that moment whether she would be able to cope with being away from Nan, living among strangers and having to meet girls as confident as this one appeared to be.

  ‘Want a sandwich?’ she whispered to Kate.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re hungry already, Rosie Dreen!’ Kate laughed.

  ‘Starving,’ Rosie admitted.

  The man with the widely spread newspaper moved slightly to take more of the space offered. The girl, who hadn’t yet sat down, snatched the paper, folded it none too neatly and said, ‘Now, if you’ll move back up a bit there’ll be room for me. Thank you.’

  Without waiting for him to comply she wriggled in between the man and a rather plump woman and handed him his bedraggled paper, slapping it on to his lap.

  She looked at the two girls, who stared in admiration. ‘What are you two staring at, never seen a woman with black hair before?’

  They lowered their gaze for a moment, then when they looked at her again, she was smiling, her teeth even in the full, generous mouth.

  ‘We’re off to Bedlington,’ Kate said. ‘Joining the Naafi we are.’

  ‘That’s where I’m going! I’m Ethel Twomey, cook, heaven help ’em. Who are you?’

  ‘I might have guessed you’d be a boss,’ Kate whispered, gesturing to the man sitting beside her, who stared ahead having abandoned his attempt to read his crumpled paper in the limited space.

  Introductions completed, they exchanged information on what they had learnt about the job ahead of them. Their knowledge of what was expected of them was pitifully limited. Others in the carriage joined in with a discussion of the war, and the conversation was loud and clearly irritating to the offended man with the newspaper, which only goaded Kate and Ethel to livelier debate. Any qualms she suffered made Ethel remind herself silently of her new persona. She was never going to be afraid of anyone, ever again.

  Rosie said the least. She was so shy she hesitated too long to add a comment and the subject had changed before she could speak. Sometimes she did say a few words but her voice was so low the others didn’t hear. It was only Kate who sometimes deferred to her and asked for an opinion. On most of these occasions Rosie’s reply was, ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I’d hoped your inhibitions were in your hat,’ Kate whispered at one point. ‘We’ll have to get rid of those damned awful shoes as well!’

  Rosie blushed and smiled. The future promised to be exciting and she knew there would be many changes in her attitude to life. She would become braver, less easily embarrassed. She would! Away from her loving but stifling grandmother she’d be able to step out and find herself. She was lucky to have Kate as a friend. And this new girl Ethel Twomey promised to be fun, once she was used to her!

  Rosie opened her parcel of food twice before they changed trains. The other girls were told that beside the food for the train journey, Rosie’s Nan had given her a box of emergency supplies, in case she didn’t have enough to eat at camp. Ethel was amused to see that the small, shy little girl with the huge blue eyes ate more than she did. Kate only smiled, being used to Rosie’s appetite.

  It was a long journey. They went on two more trains and at every change during their journey, Ethel Twomey held back and only moved from the train after looking cautiously around her. She didn’t explain and Kate and Rosie hadn’t known her long enough to ask, but they accommodated her and waited until the platform had cleared before beckoning her forward.

  A bus took them on the last stage of their journey from the town of Bedlington to their destination. It was an RAF station from where Spitfires flew. At the guard room they were told to wait and a man came to collect them and take them to their quarters. The accommodation was their first shock.

  ‘A tent? I can’t sleep in a tent, it’s October!’ Kate exclaimed in horror.

  ‘It’s quite big,’ Rosie said encouragingly.

  ‘Big, draughty and perishing cold!’ Ethel said. ‘We aren’t sleeping in that so you can find us somewhere else straight away.’

  ‘Somewhere bomb-proof too,’ Kate added, a shudder of anxiety clouding her pretty face.

  ‘Where do we wash and – you know – all that sort of thing?’ Rosie wanted to know.

  ‘Ablutions in the small hut with the gravel path around it. Now, come on, I have to show you the kitchen before I go off duty.’

  ‘Who are you? And where do we find the supervisor? I’m not having this,’ Ethel said loudly.

  ‘I’m Walter Phillips and I am the supervisor, so will you please hurry up and put your cases in the tent and come with me. I haven’t got all day.’

  ‘Come on, you must have somewhere better than this,’ Kate pleaded.

  Walter leaned towards her and smiled as he replied. ‘I’ll look after you girls if you’re nice to me, I can’t say fairer than that. I do have others to look after you know, but I’ve been known to have my favourites.’

  Ethel and Kate exchanged glances as he went a few paces ahead of them to allow them to enter the tent. His swaggering walk, and the way he stood tossing a bunch of keys from hand to hand in what he imagined was a nonchalant manner, made Rosie begin to giggle in spite of the anxiety his words created. That tent wasn’t lockable. Thank goodness she and Kate had met the formidable Ethel Twomey. She’d be a better guard than a bulldog!

  It was getting dark and the gloomy interior was reluctant to give up its secrets. With the aid of Walter’s torch they could just make out four small camp beds in the tent and a rickety table and two chairs. They didn’t have time to explore further as Walter hurried them across a field through a hedge weakened by the constant passage of people, across a second field, where he stopped and pointed to a wooden building looming out of the darkness.

  ‘That’s your canteen, ladies, and your first customers will be arriving for their break at eleven hundred hours tomorrow so get cracking.’

  ‘What d’you mean, “get cracking”? We want to get settled in first. It’s too late to do anything tonight!’

  As he disappeared into the darkness he called back the usual excuse for anything unpleasant: ‘Don’t you know there’s a war on?’

  ‘We do now! And we know where Hitler’s brother is, masquerading as a bloke called Walter!’ Kate called after him.

  The room that greeted them when they had stumbled around and finally found a light switch was filthy. Spider webs adorned the corners and mouse-droppings littered the floor. There was a counter, which they had been told to call a bar, with glass- covered sections for displaying food. Behind a partition there was a cooker of sorts, a large sink and draining board, and, over the sink, a water heater on the wall that was powered by gas. Against an outside wall was a filthy oven range that still contained the ashes of a previous fire. Tables and chairs in the main area indicated that it had
been used as a canteen in the past, but there was a lot to be done before it could be used to serve and eat food in again.

  In the partitioned-off area beside the huge sink they found a couple of new buckets, a mop, some brushes, dusters and cleaning materials. Vim, carbolic soap, large containers of disinfectant and boxes of soap powder stood beside the buckets, and wearily Rosie took off her coat and began to fill one of the buckets.

  ‘Surely they don’t expect us to do this now?’ Kate frowned.

  ‘We might as well,’ Rosie said. ‘I don’t think we’ll find our way back to the tent, do you?’

  ‘Let’s try and make a cup of tea,’ Ethel suggested.

  ‘Good idea, and I’ve got some chocolate in my bag,’ Rosie added, pointing to the large shoulder bag her nan had packed with treats for the journey.

  ‘Interesting,’ said Kate.

  While Ethel experimented with kettle and stove, Rosie flicked water over the floor to dampen the dust and began to sweep up the litter. After examining her fingernails with some apprehension, Kate picked up a scrubbing brush and cloth and went in search of hot water to the gas heater. It was scattered with rust like confetti and obviously there was a blockage somewhere in the flue because as she lit it, the flame flared and the boiler blew back with a resounding blast that terrified them.

  Walter poked his head around the door and demanded that they made less noise. He disappeared again before an outraged Kate or Ethel could take a breath to respond. Rosie was convulsed with laughter.

  They started off in an orderly manner but after half an hour of sweeping, and an hour of washing counters, they began filling buckets, using cold water and disinfectant, then throwing the contents up the walls and over the floor and, using the sweeping brushes, managed to clean the place reasonably well. With the lights turned off, and using a torch, their last job was to pull aside the dusty wooden blackout screens covering the windows and chase away the last of the spiders.