PS I Love You

by Lilian Harry

Genres: World War II; Sagas

Synopsis

Set in a Lyons Corner House in London, this is the third compelling novel in the series set against the backdrop of the Second World War. The war is progressing for the Nippies, the girls who work at the Lyons Corner House in Marble Arch. With the air raids, rationing and blackouts, life no longer has the carefree attitude it used to have. But new pain and pleasure await as everyone decides what effort they can make towards victory. Jo yearns for Nick, but the burns he sustained when he was shot down are life-changing and need the new procedure of plastic surgery. Will their marriage ever go ahead? And does Jo want it to? She loses herself in her new role as lumberjill, one of the women hewing timber for the war effort. Meanwhile, Phyl has been selected, along with some other trusted Nippies, for secret work. Far from family and friends, she works with munitions and tries to forget her desire to be a Wren. Her husband is far away but she never loses faith that one day they will be reunited...

Release date: August 19, 2010

Publisher: Orion

Print pages: 287

Sample

As the late twilight fell, the London streets grew quiet. A few cars and taxis drove down Oxford Street, past the boarded windows of the shops. From open windows floated the sound of music – dance music, jazz, the crooning voice of Frank Sinatra, the warm tones of Vera Lynn, the lively sound of the jitterbug. In the deepening blue, moonlight glowed on the swollen bellies of the barrage balloons floating above the city. Later, there might be the criss-crossing tracery of the white swords of searchlights. Or the night might remain dark and quiet.

It was coming to the end of the second year of the war.

On the corner of Marble Arch, the high, ornate façade of the Lyons Corner House gleamed white against the purple dusk. From outside, it seemed silent and boarded against the raids that had torn London apart. But when the great doors were thrust open and the heavy blackout curtain pushed aside, an explosion of colour and light embraced the hesitant customer, drawing him in with a welcome echoed in the brightness of the seater’s smile as she invited him to a table.

The chandeliers had gone, the exotic paintings been replaced by wartime posters exhorting caution and economy. But whatever changes war had wrought, the Nippy who came to serve him was the same as ever the Nippies had been – smart, clean, crisp and pleasant. And if the menu she held was shorter, and if you weren’t allowed more than one kind of protein, it didn’t seem to matter. Somehow, walking into a Corner House was more like coming home than visiting a restaurant.

‘It’s nice of you to say that, sir,’ Phyl Bennett said to the young soldier who made this remark. ‘It’s what we try to do – make our customers feel at home.’ She looked at his tired face. ‘You been in action? No – don’t answer that,’ she added hastily. ‘I know you’re not supposed to say anything. Walls have ears, eh?’

He grinned a little wearily. ‘Well, let’s say I’m on leave. Going home to see me mum tomorrow. No harm in telling you that, I s’pose.’

‘No harm at all.’ Phyl took his order and hurried off to the kitchen. It tore at her heart to see these young men, no more than boys most of them, sent off to fight with almost no training. I bet he never meant to be a soldier, she thought. I bet he just wanted to be a motorbike mechanic or a train driver or something like that.

‘A lot of chaps do want to be soldiers, though,’ her cousin Jo Mason said when Phyl told her what she was thinking. ‘Or sailors, or airmen. Like my Nick,’ she added sadly. ‘He was thrilled to bits when he got the chance to learn to fly, and now look at him.’

Phyl nodded. She hadn’t seen Nick, but Jo had told her about the bandages that had swathed his head and body after he had been shot down in his Spitfire on the very day before they had been due to marry. ‘Well, at least he’s still alive. And you’ll be able to get married the minute they let him out of hospital.’

She collected her order and went back into the restaurant. She still felt guilty that she and Mike had gone ahead with their own wedding. They’d planned a double wedding and when Jo had rushed off to Kent to see Nick, Phyl had wanted to postpone everything. But Jo, white and tight-lipped, had told her not to be so daft, and she’d been persuaded to go ahead. And, aware that Mike, too, would be sent away and there was no knowing when she might see him again, Phyl had agreed.

I’m glad we did get married, she thought, waiting at the door of the restaurant for another Nippy to finish what she was doing at the till and move out of the way, but it does seem so hard on poor Jo.

The Corner House was as busy as ever. War had changed the customers, too, or at least the way they dressed. Instead of smart clothes, worn for shopping or for office work, many people now wore service uniform and there were sprinklings of khaki, dark navy and air force blue amongst the suits and colourful summer dresses. But the faces were bright and animated – men and girls having an evening out and enjoying a meal together. There are some things, Phyl thought, that even Hitler can’t change.

The other girl had finished at the till and Phyl walked briskly across to the young soldier and set his meal before him. He looked up at her.

‘That looks smashing. Here – what time d’you finish your shift? I suppose you wouldn’t come out with me for an hour or so? Just for a walk or something,’ he added hastily. ‘There wouldn’t be nothing funny.’

Phyl gazed at him pityingly. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t – I’m married, you see, and I don’t go out with other fellers. Haven’t you got a girlfriend, then?’

He shook his head. ‘I did have, but she met someone else. Well, I don’t blame her, we weren’t serious.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s OK. I just wanted a bit of company, that’s all. You know how it is.’

I do know, Phyl thought, giving him another apologetic smile before hurrying away to serve another table. They’re all lonely, and they all want a bit of company when they’re on leave. It’s easy enough to feel sorry for them and say yes, just for a walk, just for a chat. But I know what it can lead to. And she glanced across the restaurant at Maggie Wheeler, and thought what it had led to in her case …

They’d been talking about it only that evening as they’d got ready for their shift. Maggie had been standing in front of the mirror, gazing in despair at her distending figure. She heaved a huge sigh.

‘Gawd, look at that. Like a blooming elephant. I’ve let this frock out so many times now the stitches have got stitches in ’em. I’m sure old Turgoose has twigged, you know. I caught her looking at me yesterday. Might be a dried-up old spinster but she still knows a belly full of arms and legs when she sees one. I’ve got another week here and then I’m for the high jump.’ She grinned wryly. ‘That’ll bring things on a bit!’

The other girls looked at her with sympathy. Shirley Woods tidied her cloud of dark hair under her cap and moved over to give Maggie room at the mirror. ‘Has Mr Carter said anything, then?’

‘Oh, yes, had me in his office yesterday afternoon. I never got a chance to tell you then. Nice as pie, he was, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He told me at the outset, soon as it starts to interfere with me work, out I go, and anyone can see I’ve got a job to get past the tables now. Can’t expect nothing else, can I?’ Her mouth twisted ruefully. ‘Get yourself in the club, get yourself out of it, that’s the way it is. And they can’t have me letting down the good name of Lyons Corner Houses, can they?’

‘Well, I think it’s a shame,’ Etty Brown said loyally. She and Maggie shared a room at the hostel where Etty had lived after leaving the orphanage where she’d grown up. Small, sallow-skinned, with the dark eyes and slightly large nose that had made life hard for her with some of the girls at the hostel, and even with one or two Nippies – notably Irene Bond, who had joined Lyons at the same time as the other five – Etty was fiercely protective of big, yellow-haired Maggie. Her first experience of real family life had begun when Maggie took her to the house at the back of St Paul’s, sprawling with brothers and sisters, and now that Etty and Maggie’s brother Jim were officially engaged, the two were virtually sisters.

‘It’s awful the way people like Maggie are treated,’ she went on. ‘And the baby, too. It’s not his fault – or hers – is it? And it’s not Maggie’s either.’

Everyone knew what she meant, but nobody – not even Maggie herself – could fairly say she was right. Maggie had asked for it, one or two of the other Nippies who didn’t like her had said spitefully, and nobody could deny that she hadn’t done much to avoid it.

Except for that once. And even Maggie didn’t know the truth about that.

‘So what did Mr Carter say?’ Phyl asked. ‘He didn’t just give you the sack, surely?’

‘Well, not in so many words.’ Maggie did up the last straining button. ‘It’s going to be a race whether it’s me or this frock that goes first … No, you know what he’s like, he always tries to wrap things up nice. He just said he was sorry but no one would believe it was just ordinary weight gain any more – specially with rationing the way it is! – and he’d have to give me me notice. So I said that was all right, I’d bin going to hand it in meself and that’s what I’d do. Tell you the truth, it’s bin getting too much for me anyway. I’m getting veins and when I gets home I’m almost too tired to lay on the bed.’

‘I think he’s been worried about you for a few weeks now,’ Jo said. ‘I’ve seen him looking at you, and he said to me one day didn’t I think you ought to sit down and put your feet up at mealtimes? He never really wanted to get rid of you.’

‘Course he didn’t,’ Etty said loyally. ‘Why, you’re one of the best Nippies we got. I wish I could be as jolly and cheery with the customers. You’ve always got a joke to share, and that’s what they like.’

‘Mmm. Pity I didn’t leave it at just sharing jokes,’ Maggie said with a wry grin. ‘Wouldn’t be in this mess now if I’d managed to keep meself to meself, would I? Me and my war work!’

It was hard not to laugh, even though everyone knew just how serious Maggie’s situation was. She wasn’t exactly an unmarried mother, because she was a widow, but anyone who knew her would know that her husband Tommy had been killed at Dunkirk – far too long ago for the baby she was carrying to be his. And anyone who knew her would also know that she’d gone with a lot of young servicemen after Tommy had died. Giving them some love and comfort before they went off to war, she’d said, but a lot of people would have just called her a tart.

‘What are you going to do now?’ Phyl asked her. ‘Go down to your mum and gran in the country?’

‘Yeah, I reckon so. Can’t stop at the hostel with Et, can I? And Dad and the twins are in that men’s lodging-house, I can’t go there. Anyway, Mum and Gran have got our Evie’s kiddies to look after, too, so I reckon I can help out there, and one more won’t make that much difference.’

‘Are you going to keep it, then? You won’t get it adopted?’ Phyl knew two or three girls who had had illegitimate babies, and they’d all had them adopted. ‘Are you sure you’ll be able to manage?’

‘It’s ever so hard, keeping a baby like that,’ Jo joined in. ‘You want to think about what sort of life it’ll have, Mags.’

‘I know. I haven’t decided what to do, not really.’ Maggie gave her hair a final brush and pulled on her cap. ‘See, after I lost Tommy’s baby, I didn’t think I’d ever have another one. I mean, I never thought I’d find anyone like my Tom that I’d want to get married to. And now – well, it’s like a second chance. And it’ll be my baby. I’m its mum. I don’t know if I’ll be able to let it go, to be honest. The only thing is …’ She bit her lip and glanced down at the floor. ‘Well, it’s not knowing whose it is, see? I mean, it could be Davey’s for all he was still wet behind the ears – he was a fast learner.’ Her irrepressible grin broke out for a moment. ‘Or Andy’s – and Andy was kind of special, he was the only one I thought I might – well, I dunno what happened to him, dead by now I shouldn’t wonder. So if it was either of theirs, well, I might want to keep it. But …’ Her voice trailed away and the other girls looked at her with sympathy.

‘But it might be that other bloke’s,’ Phyl said. ‘The one that – that—’

‘Took me down the alley and raped me,’ Maggie said bluntly. ‘Yes, it might. And if it is – well, I dunno if I could ever feel quite the same about it. I mean, if it looked like him, every time I saw its little face, I’d be reminded, see. I don’t know if I could ever feel properly motherly towards it. Even though it’s not the poor little sod’s fault. So …’ She looked up and gave them a slightly twisted grin. ‘I reckon I’ll just have to wait and see, won’t I? And then perhaps I’ll be able to make up me mind.’

Phyl thought of the conversation as she looked across the restaurant at Maggie. In a week, the big yellow-haired girl would be gone, and that would leave only four of the six Nippies who had started together. And soon we’ll be gone, too, she thought, for she and Jo had determined to join the services and, no doubt, Shirley and Etty would follow. And if all the other Nippies did the same, Lyons would be forced to do what rumour suggested they were planning, and go over to self-service, with the customers lining up with their own trays as if they were in a works canteen.

‘You all right, Phyl?’ Maggie asked as they met at the kitchen door. ‘You look as if you’re in another world.’

‘Just thinking what it was like when we started here. We’ve had some good times, haven’t we, Mag?’ She grinned suddenly. ‘Remember when Irene Bond spilt that soup down a customer’s neck? She swore it was you jogged her elbow.’

‘Well, so it was,’ Maggie answered, her eyes crinkling. ‘It was after she was so nasty to Etty that time. She needed taking down a peg or two, nasty, stuck-up so-and-so. Mind you, I wouldn’t have done it if the customer hadn’t already been rude to me, shouting after me when I went by when he wasn’t even on one of my tables!’

Phyl laughed. ‘We’re going to miss you, Maggie.’ She felt a lump come into her throat and saw that Maggie’s eyes had filled with tears. ‘Oh, Mag …’

‘Blimey,’ Maggie said in a creaking voice, brushing fiercely at her eyes, ‘being in the family way don’t half turn you into a cry-baby. I turns on the tap at the slightest thing just lately.’

Phyl touched her arm. ‘You go and have a good rest once you leave here,’ she advised. ‘You need it. And let us know the minute it’s born, won’t you? And if you do get a chance to come up to London, you make sure you come and see us.’

‘Just try keeping me away,’ Maggie said ruefully. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to manage down there in the country, Phyl, I don’t honestly. Apart from a few summers hop-picking, I’ve never seen a field in the whole of me life!’

Phyl and Jo went home together after the shift had finished. It was over two months now since there had been a bombing raid on London, and a lot of the damaged buildings were under hasty repair. There were too many needing attention to do a proper job on any, Jo’s father had said, but at least they were being made safer and bombed sites, which had become an adventure playground for the children remaining in the city, were being cleared of some of their dangers.

‘They reckon there’s unexploded bombs and all sorts under the rubble,’ Phyl said as they picked their way through the streets. You never knew from one day to the next which way you might have to go, what with gas mains being mended and leaking waterpipes plugged up, or gaping craters left by explosions being filled in. The work seemed never-ending. ‘They found a huge one down Pennington Street yesterday. Roped off the road for the whole night and people had to go down the shelter even though there wasn’t a raid. Jean Somers, from the kitchen, told Maggie she and her mum weren’t allowed home till eight o’clock this morning. That’s why she was late and there weren’t any sausages cooked for brunches.’

‘It’ll seem funny without Maggie at the Corner House,’ Jo said, and Phyl nodded.

‘Won’t be all that long before we’ve left ourselves. There’ll be only Shirley and Etty there then, out of our lot, and I don’t suppose they’ll stop all that long.’

‘I dunno. I can’t see Etty in the services, can you? She’s so small. She looks as if a puff of wind’d blow her away.’

Phyl snorted. ‘She’s taller than me! Don’t you remember how she grew and I didn’t, when we were both in the kitchen? I thought she’d get to be a Nippy and I’d be left grilling cheese on toast. And it wasn’t as if she even wanted to be a Nippy, till I persuaded her.’

‘Well, she looks small,’ Jo argued. ‘I mean, you’re not fat, our Phyl, but you’ve got a bit of flesh on you. Etty’s like a wisp of straw.’

‘She’s strong enough, though, and brave, too. Look at the way she went down that hole and looked after them people who were buried. Got a medal for it. I reckon the services’ll snap her up.’

The girls had planned to go home to Woolwich straight from work. Both had the next day off and wanted to take every opportunity to spend what time they had with their families. Phyl had had a telegram to say that her brother Ronnie was on embarkation leave, and Jo’s brother Freddy had managed to wangle a forty-eight-hour pass. Norman was somewhere overseas, and young Alice out in the country, so the families wouldn’t be complete, but it was the nearest they’d been for quite a while.

‘Wonder where we’ll end up,’ Jo mused as she tried to decide which clothes to take with her. ‘I know I’ll be out in the country somewhere, in the Land Army, but it could be anywhere from Wales to Northumberland. It’s exciting, isn’t it – a proper adventure. And if you go in the Wrens you’ll probably go somewhere like Portsmouth or Plymouth. I bet it’ll be really interesting.’

‘I know. It’s even more exciting than when we first thought of coming to London and being Nippies. That seemed like an adventure, too, but we knew where we were going to work and live, and all that. Now – why, we could go anywhere, and anything could happen!’ Phyl glanced across the beds at her cousin. ‘You’re not really thinking of taking that blouse, are you, Jo? I don’t know what your dad would say if he saw you in that.’

Jo glanced down at the scrap of lace she held in her hands. ‘Well, no, perhaps not. Though how he could pass any remarks when I’m over twenty-one and an engaged woman – a married woman, I ought to be by now – and we’re only going to be with the family … But you’re right. He’d have something to say. I’ll take this old white one instead, even if it does make me look like a nun.’

‘I just wish Mike and Nick could be there, too,’ Phyl said wistfully. ‘But there Mike is, somewhere out in Africa, and poor Nick’s stuck in that hospital … Everything’s turning out so different from what we expected, isn’t it, Jo?’

Jo nodded, thinking of Nick in the hospital in Kent. She hadn’t seen him for a fortnight now.

‘I feel guilty I’m not going down there. I feel as if I ought to be there with him, every spare minute. And then when I am there, I just wonder if I’m wasting my time anyway.’

Phyl stared at her. ‘Wasting your time? Whatever d’you mean?’

‘Oh – nothing,’ Jo said, and closed her mouth in a tight, grim line. She seemed to shrink into herself whenever the subject was mentioned, as if it hurt to talk about it.

Phyl touched her arm. ‘Can’t you tell me about it, Jo? We’ve always been able to tell each other everything.’

‘There’s nothing to tell,’ Jo said tersely. ‘Nick got burnt, that’s all, and it’s going to to take a long time to put him right. If they can put him right. We’ve just got to wait and see.’

‘What do you mean – if they can put him right?’ Phyl pleaded. ‘How bad is it, really? What have they got to do to him? Hasn’t he told you anything – what happened, or what the doctors say?’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Jo snapped. ‘Why does everyone keep badgering me about it? He was burnt. Can’t you imagine what they’ll have to do?’ She drew in a deep breath and sat down suddenly on the edge of her bed. ‘All right. They’re going to do something called plastic surgery. They take skin from other parts of the body and sew it on to the bits that are burnt. It’s not like scalding your hand with the kettle, when it just hurts for a few days and then heals itself up. Nick’s burns won’t heal themselves up. They’re too deep. And that means the places where they’ve taken the skin from have got to heal up and grow new skin, too. And it’s going to take a long time. And he can’t tell me about it because he can’t talk properly. Because his – his face was – was too badly burnt.’ She put both hands over her own face and began to cry, her body shuddering with each huge, harsh sob.

Phyl stared at her, appalled. She put out a hand and touched her cousin’s shoulder, and when Jo didn’t shrug her away she put both arms around her and held her close. Jo turned in her arms and clung to her and Phyl rocked her gently, resting her cheek against Jo’s thick chestnut hair. They sat for a while without speaking and at last Jo’s sobs began to diminish and she felt for a hanky and blew her nose hard.

‘Oh, Jo, that’s awful,’ Phyl said softly. ‘Why didn’t you tell us about it before? Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because nobody could do anything to help,’ Jo said wearily. ‘Nobody could make it better. And I knew it’d just upset people, knowing – knowing what it was like.’

‘Well, why shouldn’t we be upset?’ Phyl demanded. ‘At least we’d know. We could share it with you. You ought to have said before, Jo.’

‘I don’t think I could have done. I couldn’t talk about it. I only told you now because I – well, because I got too sick and tired of being badgered about it. You, Mum, Dad, everyone – always on about Nick. I couldn’t stand it any longer.’

‘Well, I’m glad I badgered you. You shouldn’t keep things like that to yourself. Now you’ll be able to tell me about it, whatever happens.’ Phyl hugged her cousin again, and then asked, ‘What about his mum and dad? How are they managing?’

‘His mum’s ever so upset. His dad’s a bit better, he keeps saying that at least Nick’s still alive, and that hospital he’s in is the best one in the country for plastic surgery. And he’s talked to the doctors and everyone about what they’re going to do. They go in and sit with Nick every day.’ She picked up the lacy blouse and dropped it again. ‘I feel awful, not getting down there whenever I can. I mean, like tomorrow, I’ve got a whole day – I ought to be going to see him, but there’s Mum and Dad and our Freddy … And then I’ll be going away soon, into the Land Army if they have me, and I don’t even know where I’ll be sent. It might be too far away to visit him.’

Phyl was silent. She’d been looking forward to her own new life, but this talk with Jo left her feeling anxious and disturbed. The separation was bad enough for her – the two girls had barely been apart since they were born – but she felt now that Jo needed someone close to her, to help her through. How was she going to manage if she was sent to the other end of the country and couldn’t even visit Nick to sit and hold his hand?

‘He knows you’re going away, doesn’t he? He knows you’ve applied for the Land Army.’

‘Oh, yes, I’ve told him that, and I’ll go and see him before I go, and I’ll write to him, of course – someone’ll have to read the letters to him at first, so I won’t be able to say much but at least I can say that I – I – I love him,’ she ended on another sob. ‘At least he’ll know that.’

‘It’s all any of us can do,’ Phyl said quietly. Her own letters to Mike were full of her love, and so were his to her. ‘It’s not so bad as all that, Jo. So long as we can say we love each other. So long as we’ve got someone to love. And you know what else I think?’ She sat up straight, looking at her cousin with bright, dark eyes.

‘What’s that, then?’

‘I think, whatever happens, we’ve just got to make the best of it – and enjoy it, as much as we can. That’s what’s going to win this war, Jo – not taking everything too seriously and letting it get us down, but going out there with a smile and a joke, like Maggie does, and getting some fun out of it. You’re going to enjoy being in the Land Army. And I’m going to enjoy being a Wren. And Nick is going to get better. They’ll mend his face and everything, and he’ll be as good as new. And you can write to him, and I can write to Mike, and we can still go on saying we love them because we do, and one day it’s all going to come right again. That’s what I think!’

Jo looked at her. She looked at the small, perky figure, the bright eyes, the short, dark curls, and she laughed.

‘All right, Phyl, you win! I’ll stop moaning and start enjoying this bloody war! And I’ll tell you something. I can see you’re going to enjoy being a Wren. You even look like one! A bird, I mean – ouch!’

She ducked too late as Phyl aimed a pillow at her head. The two girls fell across the bed, tickling each other and laughing hysterically. And down below in the kitchen, their landlady glanced up at the noise and rolled her eyes.

Nothing seemed to get these youngsters down for long, she thought.

‘Well, I reckon that’s it,’ Maggie said as she and Etty got on the bus outside the Corner House. ‘End of an era, ain’t that what they say?’

‘Oh, Maggie.’ Etty’s eyes were full of tears. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to manage without you there.’

‘You’ll be all right, gal.’ They clambered up the stairs to the top deck. ‘Phew! I don’t reckon I’m going to want to do this any more, specially not in this heat … You’ll be leaving yourself before too long, anyway.’

‘I don’t think so. They won’t want me in the services.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Maggie began robustly. ‘You’re as strong as any of us, for all you’re only a tiddler. Or d’you mean … ?’ She glanced swiftly at Etty’s sallow features and then looked quickly out of the window. ‘Sorry, mate, I never meant—’

‘I know,’ Etty said quietly. ‘But it’s true, isn’t it? They won’t want me. For all people say it’s for people like me the war’s being fought, they still don’t want us where they can’t help seeing us. Nothing but trouble, that’s what we Jews are.’

‘You’re not to say that,’ Maggie said forcefully. ‘It’s not true. Anyone who says that is just an ignorant pig – oh!’ Her hand went to her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘Well, you know what I mean.’

Etty giggled, too, and then her face sobered. ‘I really am going to miss you, Maggie, now you’ll be going down to Devon, to your mum and gran.’

‘I know,’ Maggie said with a sigh. ‘I’m going to miss you as well. But there’s nothing much to keep me up in London now, is there? No job, no family – ’cept you – no proper home. All the same, I wish I didn’t have to go. London might be in a bit of a mess just now, but it’s where I’d rather be. I feel a bit of a coward, running away like this.’

‘You’re not running away,’ Etty said loyally, and Maggie chuckled again.

‘Can’t run far anyway, can I, not in this state!’ She glanced down at her swollen belly. ‘Funny, innit, to think there’s a baby in there. I bin carrying it about all these months and I don’t even know what it is – boy or girl – or what it’s going to look like.’ She paused for a moment, then added quietly, ‘Who it’s going to look like …’

They came to their stop and got off. The hostel was quiet. Many of the girls and women who lived there had been called up or had volunteered for the services. Mrs Denton, the manageress, popped out of her tiny office as they came through the front door.

‘Your tickets have arrived.’ She waved a couple of slips of thin cardboard at them. ‘The tickets for the Underground shelter,’ she added impatiently as the two girls stared at her.

‘Coo, I’d forgotten all about those,’ Maggie said, taking them. ‘Thought for a minute you’d paid for us to go to the London Palladium. Well, a fat lot of use they’re going to be – we haven’t had a raid for weeks and I’ll be leaving soon to go down to Devon.’

The manageress shrugged. ‘That’s your business, as long as you give me proper notice. I dare say there’ll be someone else glad of them if you don’t want them.’

‘Oh, we’ll keep ’em for now.’ Maggie tucked them into her purse and turned away to go upstairs. After the last few raids, back in May, she and Etty had applied for the tickets to the tube station shelter and been given priority – Maggie because of her condition, and Etty to look after her. Not that she would have any idea what to do if Maggie went into labour, she said, but with any luck there’d be women there who’d had their own babies and would be able to help.

‘I’m not having it down there anyway,’ Maggie had said. ‘First sign, and I’m off to hospital where there’s proper doctors and nurses.’

But she was wrong. At ten o’clock that very night the sirens went to signal a raid, and with hundreds of others the two girls hurried down the escalator. Their bunks, with numbered labels pinned to them, were at one end of the platform and they stumbled over the people already camped on the platform to reach them.

‘I don’t reckon I give up work a minute too soon,’ Maggie observed as they sorted themselves out. ‘I never had no trouble carrying those trays till today, but now me back’s killing me. I’ll be glad to lay down, even on these monstrosities. You take the top one, Etty, I’ll never manage to climb up there.’

‘The bunk wouldn’t hold you anyway,’ Etty remarked, grinning, and swung herself nimbly u