The Songbirds of Florence

by Olivia Spooner

Genres: World War II; 20th Century Romance

Synopsis

A sweeping, captivating, inspiring WWII story from the No.1 bestselling author of The Girl from London.

In 1942, a group of young women arrive in Cairo, Egypt. The Tuis, named after the beautiful New Zealand songbird, are the first women from their country to serve overseas. They are to provide respite and a touch of home to weary soldiers returning from the front line.

Addy joined the Tuis for the adventure. Vivacious and outgoing, she is the life of the party, with an unforgettable voice. Margot is quiet and withdrawn, grieving the young husband she lost to the war. Despite their differences, the girls become fast friends.

When the Tuis are relocated to Italy to set up clubs in grand venues in Florence, Bari and Rome, Addy and Margot are enchanted by the culture - from the stunning sights to the whirlwind of concerts and parties. But despite the exhilarating and romantic nature of being abroad in the company of soldiers, dark shadows loom.

And as their illusion of peace is shattered with news of a devastating attack, Margot and Addy will find their endurance pushed to the limit, as they discover the true meaning of courage, sacrifice and sisterhood amidst the brutal reality of WWII.

Publisher: Hachette New Zealand

Print pages: 384

Sample

Shuffling down the gangway behind the other girls, Margot felt as if she were being baked in a giant, foul-smelling oven. The stifling air stank of animal dung, diesel and some sort of spice that made her stomach churn. She’d heard all about the crushing heat in Egypt, but she hadn’t been prepared, couldn’t have imagined it was possible for the air to be so oppressive.

Margot wanted to race back up the gangway and hide in her cabin until the ship turned around and headed back to New Zealand. Though the ship wasn’t returning home, Margot reminded herself; not immediately, anyway. It was only stopping in Port Tewfik overnight to deliver supplies, along with Margot and nine other young women, to the New Zealand Army before carrying on to England.

‘I’m cooking in this blasted uniform,’ muttered the girl behind Margot.

Margot didn’t reply, instead wiping at the bead of sweat sliding off her forehead. Leaving Wellington Harbour six weeks earlier in a stiff southerly wind, the new uniform had felt wonderfully smart and warm – a made-to-measure khaki tunic in soft wool, matching greatcoat with leather buttons, white shirt, khaki tie, khaki stockings and felt hat with a New Zealand Army badge sewn on the front – but in these stifling conditions, Margot resented every single item.

Stepping off the gangway, Margot lined up with the other women to face their welcoming committee. An impeccably dressed older lady in a tailored two-piece and an elaborate pale yellow hat with a bow and netting stood before them, flanked by three New Zealand Army officers. The woman looked familiar, and Margot tried to work out where she had seen her before.

‘Welcome, ladies – or should I say, my Tuis,’ said the woman in a British accent. ‘I’m Lady Freyberg.’

Margot’s eyes widened and she stood a little straighter. They’d heard General Freyberg’s wife had taken special charge of the Tuis, named after the distinctive New Zealand songbird, but it was still a surprise to have her waiting on the docks to greet them. No wonder she’d looked familiar – since the war had begun, there had been several photographs of the Freybergs in the newspapers.

‘I want to thank you for your service, and for coming all this way to help us in our fight against the Axis armies,’ said Lady Freyberg. ‘I won’t keep you standing in the sun, as you must be extremely hot in those uniforms. Fortunately, we have drivers to take us into Cairo.’ She gestured towards a row of black military cars behind her.

Lady Freyberg stepped towards Margot, tapped her on the arm and nodded to the two girls on her left. ‘You three ladies may come with me; the rest of you can travel in the other cars. Point out your luggage and we’ll make a start.’

Margot met Lady Freyberg’s warm gaze and attempted to smile, only her face wouldn’t move. She hoped Lady Freyberg would not take it as a personal insult, the way most of the Tuis Margot had travelled with must have done.

They’d tried for the first few days, inviting Margot to join in with on-board activities and attempting to draw her into conversation over meals. But Margot hadn’t been able to respond with the animation and enthusiasm she knew was expected. Twice she’d come close to telling them why, explaining that it was nothing to do with them and entirely due to some fault within her, yet she had remained silent and withdrawn. It had been a year since Margot was able to smile properly and she didn’t know how to fix it. It was as if a connection in her brain had been damaged and she couldn’t get her facial muscles to work. She couldn’t be properly human anymore.

Enlisting in the Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps had been her desperate attempt to escape the feeling she had of barely existing, while life happened around her. She’d hoped that doing something wildly outside her comfort zone would somehow flick a switch and bring her back into the world, but even now, standing in this foreign land miles from home, she remained in a void.

Margot trailed after Lady Freyberg and the two other Tuis towards their car, avoiding the crowds of uniformed men on the docks who were shouting and grunting as they unloaded crates of supplies. From the rear of a medical truck, nurses assisted men with bandages around their heads and crutches under their arms towards a waiting ship. Margot quickly looked away to see a tank swinging precariously in the air, held by flimsy chains as it was offloaded from another ship. Everywhere was noisy and hot, the sights unlike anything Margot had seen before.

Wedged in the back seat between two girls whose names she should have known after weeks together at sea, Margot realised her heart was beating faster than usual and she was taking short, shallow breaths. Was it a reaction to the heat or was she finally beginning to waken from her stupor?

They left the crowded docks behind and picked up speed. It was a fraction cooler with the car moving at a reasonable clip and the windows open, but Margot still felt as if every pore of her body was leaking. The backs of her stockings were uncomfortably damp against the seat.

Lady Freyberg swivelled from her position in the front passenger seat to face her. ‘What is your name, dear?’ she asked.

‘Margot,’ she croaked.

‘And where are you from?’

‘Masterton.’

‘Oh, wonderful – that’s near Wellington, I believe?’

‘Yes, Lady Freyberg.’

‘My husband grew up in Wellington. He has many fond memories.’

Margot nodded, unable to think of anything to say. Why, oh why, couldn’t she at least act normally?

Thankfully, Lady Freyberg had turned her attention to the other two Tuis. The pretty, bubbly blonde on Margot’s left introduced herself as Lily from New Plymouth, and then Edith from Christchurch, sitting on Margot’s other side, said hello. They both chatted excitedly with Lady Freyberg as Margot shrank back into her seat.

Gazing through the front windscreen she felt a strange tingling in her face and down her neck. She was here. She had made it to the desert Ed had described so often in his letters. Apart from sand and rocky outcrops, there was nothing else: no green grass, no trees, no sign of civilisation other than the bumpy road they were driving along, a steady stream of army trucks rumbling past, and the occasional ramshackle building on the side of the road, with dark-skinned men in white robes standing out front next to skeletal cows or donkeys.

‘Now, my dears,’ said Lady Freyberg, ‘we are heading to the New Zealand Forces Club, where you will be living and working. Your duties will be varied but the most important one is this: I am depending on you to take care of our boys. Make them forget the challenges of war. Give them a taste of home. Trust me when I say they need you. You’ll be providing a vital service that cannot be underestimated.’

Margot nodded along with the other two girls, though she was confused as to what services they would be expected to provide.

‘I ask you to always look your very best for our boys,’ Lady Freyberg continued. ‘Please wear make-up, including lipstick, and ensure your hair is tidy. Protect your skin by moisturising regularly and staying out of the sun. Nail polish is highly encouraged, as are regular visits to the hairdressers. Some Tuis have started wearing colourful handkerchiefs in their pockets, which is a wonderful addition.’

Margot licked her lips. At least she’d remembered to apply lipstick before leaving the ship, but she imagined her mousy curls pinned hastily to the nape of her neck were a frightful mess.

‘Look!’ squealed Lily. ‘The pyramids.’

Craning her head awkwardly, Margot followed Lily’s pointed finger. Far in the distance, the distinct outline of the pyramids cut into the horizon, mysterious and otherworldly. Ed’s letter telling her how he’d climbed to the top of the tallest pyramid had been full of awe and enthusiasm, and Margot remembered how jealous she had felt, thinking at the time she would never have an opportunity to see them for herself. Yet here she was. ‘Gosh,’ Margot breathed. ‘Aren’t they magnificent?’

Lily turned abruptly to face her. ‘Well look at that,’ she said. ‘I knew you were in there somewhere.’

Margot realised she was smiling and had an overwhelming urge to cry. Tears were something else Margot had been unable to produce in a long time.

Lily reached out and squeezed Margot’s leg briefly before turning to look out of her window. The car fell silent as they continued on the straight, endless road. It was like a line dissecting the desert in two. A line drawn in the sand, thought Margot.

An hour later, in the shimmering heat, the city of Cairo came into full view. Buildings rose into the sky, which was dotted with the striking outlines of minarets and mosques. On a hill overlooking the city sat the Citadel surrounded by a tall wall, just as imposing as Ed’s description had made it sound. As they entered Cairo, Margot’s head turned rapidly from side to side as she tried to take in as many of the sights as she could. The architecture was fascinating compared to the bland buildings back home. The history of this ancient city was all around her, invading her senses.

Cars and taxis and funny-looking carts being pulled by horses appeared seemingly in a flash, bringing a cacophony of sound and commotion. As their car slowed in traffic, small boys ran alongside, waving and shouting. Taxis blared their horns, and cars, military trucks and men in uniform were everywhere. Unusual smells wafted through the windows, and Margot felt a rush of something powerful surge through her body. Her pulse throbbed at her wrists.

Their car turned onto a wide boulevard, ornate buildings with wrought-iron railings and shutters lining either side.

‘Here’s the club,’ said Lady Freyberg proudly.

They stopped in front of an attractive building with a banner hanging across the main entrance that read NEW ZEALAND FORCES CLUB. A huddle of soldiers in the familiar New Zealand uniform stood chatting on the steps outside and turned to watch as an Egyptian man dashed out of the entrance to open Lady Freyberg’s door. When she stepped onto the footpath, the soldiers stood up straighter, adjusting their hats and tucking in their shirts. Then they stared candidly as first Lily then Margot and Edith alighted from the car.

‘Hello, ladies,’ one of the soldiers called. ‘You’re a welcome sight.’

‘These lovely girls have just arrived from New Zealand,’ Lady Freyberg announced.

Margot could only manage a half-hearted wave before following Lady Freyberg into the wide, airy foyer with high ceilings, colourful mosaic tiles on the floor and a polished wooden staircase. The loud din of men’s voices came from a set of double doors to their left. ‘That’s the bar,’ said Lady Freyberg. ‘You won’t be required to work in there, of course. Oh, here are the other girls now.’

The remaining seven Tuis who had arrived on the ship with Margot filed into the foyer, their faces red from the heat and their eyes wide with excitement.

‘I’ll give you a quick tour of the ground floor while we wait for the head Tui, Sergeant Walker, to join us.’ Lady Freyberg strode towards an opening in the wall where a young woman stood behind a raised counter. ‘This is the cash desk,’ said Lady Freyberg. ‘And this is Claire, a fellow Tui.’

‘Boy are we glad to see you lot,’ said Claire warmly.

‘No cash is handled upstairs,’ said Lady Freyberg. ‘Instead, the boys purchase tickets from the desk. You’ll learn all about it in due course. And through that door,’ she said, pointing, ‘is the barber shop, and further on is the prep room, which you will soon become acquainted with.’

‘You sure will,’ muttered Claire.

An older, robust woman wearing the same uniform as Claire came bustling down the stairs, her face strained. ‘Apologies – there was an incident with the tea urns.’

‘Not at all,’ said Lady Freyberg. ‘Girls, this is Sergeant Walker, the Tui in charge.’

Sergeant Walker fixed them with a stern look. ‘I hope you are all well after your voyage.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Lily replied.

The head Tui glared at her. ‘Sergeant Walker, please.’

‘S-sorry,’ stammered Lily.

‘Right,’ said the sergeant, turning to Lady Freyberg. ‘Shall we head upstairs?’

The next ten minutes were thoroughly overwhelming as they were hastily shown the various rooms on the first floor. There was the officers’ dining room, the ladies’ lounge, an office for the army major in charge of the club (who greeted them with a barely perceptible nod while speaking loudly on the phone), the library, the writing room and the medical officer’s room. When they reached the common room, several of the girls cooed with delight at the rose curtains, glass-topped tables and floral-covered chairs where soldiers sat and were waited on by dark-skinned men in white outfits.

Margot kept looking about in confusion. This wasn’t at all what she had been expecting. Before she could pluck up the courage to ask a question, they were being ushered into the giant main lounge, where there were at least fifty servicemen. Some were sitting but most were standing in groups near the open windows. The large room was loud and hot and smelt of sweat and hair pomade and something sweet. At the far side, several Tuis were bustling about behind some counters. They were flushed, smiling and nodding at the men queuing before them.

‘There’s a tea counter, a cake counter, an orange juice station and the soda counter – which also serves ice cream, so as you can imagine it is very popular at the moment. Oh, and over there is the stage, where you may be asked to perform.’ As she spoke, the sergeant herded them back out of the room. ‘And those are the main areas where you’ll be working, though there are a number of other jobs you’ll be required to do.’

Margot looked at the rest of the Tuis gathered around her and was relieved to see she wasn’t the only one looking bewildered.

‘Right!’ The sergeant clapped her hands. ‘Let’s find your luggage and I’ll have you shown to your rooms.’

As the Tuis followed meekly behind Sergeant Walker, Margot hung back. Her eye had been caught by a man standing on his own in the corner. He was holding a cup of tea and trying to take a sip, but his hands were shaking so hard the tea kept spilling over the sides onto the saucer and he couldn’t seem to wrap his lips around the edge of the cup. There was a large mottled bruise on his neck.

Margot swallowed, took a deep breath, and followed after the others.

Stepping out of the lift onto the ninth floor of the Forces Club, Addy tugged at her uniform, trying to reduce the sweat patch she could see blooming around her belt. She hurried along the corridor and pushed open her bedroom door. ‘Oh,’ she gasped, coming to an abrupt halt. ‘You’re here!’

The new girl sat stiffly on the edge of her bed, wearing the formal uniform complete with hat and the dreaded toheroa soup-coloured stockings. ‘Goodness, you must be melting,’ Addy exclaimed, stepping over and holding out a hand. ‘I’m Adeline, your roommate, but you must call me Addy – only my parents and Sergeant Walker call me Adeline, and even then only when I’m in trouble.’

‘Margot,’ the girl replied, without so much as a smile.

Addy tried not to grimace at the sweatiness of the girl’s hand as they shook. ‘Well, Margot, what do you think of this place? Isn’t it wonderful? Though I have to say, I am looking forward to having a day off now some reinforcements have turned up. We haven’t had a full day off since we arrived back in November, and I’ve been promised leave to Alexandria. Oh! Did you hear they’ve granted us officer status at the Maadi Club so we can use their facilities? They have a swimming pool! My first day off, I’m going straight there.’

Addy paused, slightly out of breath. She tended to talk into silences, hating the awkwardness of them, but she made herself wait to see if Margot wanted to say something. What a strange girl she was, sitting there with her big brown saucer eyes and rigid jaw. Of course, Cairo had probably come as a bit of a shock.

‘Where are you from?’ Addy asked, when the girl failed to speak.

‘Masterton,’ came the flat response.

Addy made a face. ‘I have to confess, I have no idea where that is. Shocking, I know. But I should warn you, where you’re from is exceedingly important around here – who you went to school with, if you know so-and-so. All the boys from Masterton or anywhere remotely close will be seeking you out, just wait.’

Margot looked stricken, as if this were the worst possible news. ‘I didn’t think of that,’ she said, her hand shaking as she grasped the back of her neck and took a deep, shuddering breath.

Addy frowned. She’d hoped she and her new roommate would be friends, but the early signs weren’t promising. ‘You honestly must be sweltering, Margot. It’s the most dreadful uniform, and those stockings …’ Addy screwed up her nose. ‘You can throw them away. We all wear silk stockings now. They’re sold down at the shop on the ground floor and they’re not at all expensive compared to New Zealand. At least our club uniform is far more practical.’ Addy held out the corner of her linen Tui tunic and did a twirl. ‘It’s reasonably attractive as far as uniforms go. Have you been issued yours yet?’

Margot nodded and gestured vaguely to the armoire. Addy sighed. Her last roommate, Jean, had been ten years older than Addy but had seemed far older and was an absolute grump. Sure, they had to work long hours and some of their duties were less than glamorous, but Jean had acted like she was working in a coalmine. The only time she opened her mouth was to complain about something or someone. Jean had even had the audacity to complain to Sergeant Walker about Addy’s interactions with the soldiers. Apparently Addy was too quick to laugh and it was sending the wrong message to the boys. But what on earth could be wrong with laughing? Addy was convinced that what the boys in the 2nd Division needed more than anything during this ruddy war was the smiling face of a Kiwi girl.

Thankfully, Addy hadn’t been the only one who found Jean’s attitude hard to take. Apparently the general had been furious after hearing Jean moan about some of the language used by his soldiers. ‘These are fighting men; if you can’t handle that, go home,’ the general had told her, and the next thing Addy knew Jean was packing her bags and informing everyone that her services would be better utilised back in New Zealand.

Surely Margot wasn’t going to be another stinker. Addy decided that if the next words out of Margot’s mouth were negative, Addy would be marching straight to Sergeant Walker’s office to demand an exchange of roommates.

Putting her hands on her hips, Addy glared at Margot’s lowered head. She would not be the one to move or speak first.

After several uncomfortable seconds, Margot looked up. ‘I thought I would be driving trucks,’ she murmured.

‘Sorry?’

Margot shrugged. ‘I grew up on a farm and I learnt to drive sheep trucks. I was sure that was what I was signing up to do. At my interview they seemed very focused on the fact … pleased, even.’

Addy grinned. ‘Yes, well, you’re not alone there. None of us had any idea what we would be doing. I don’t think those in charge did either. They seem to be making it up as they go along. I thought I might be working on a switchboard, because I was an exchange operator before I came to Egypt.’ Addy rolled her eyes. ‘Thank goodness I’m not doing that anymore. I much prefer being here, though some jobs are better than others.’

Margot studied Addy’s face as if trying to find an answer to an unspoken question. ‘So what exactly will I be doing?’ she asked at last.

‘Oh, a bit of everything really. We’re split into two groups. One week we’re on the cash desk or in the prep room – which isn’t much chop, I’ll be honest – then the other week we’re in the lounge or the library or running errands. There are four shifts throughout the day, with the last one finishing at either seven one night or ten the next, so every second night we can go out with the boys – dancing, to a movie, to a bar or restaurant – and on the days we work till ten we have the afternoon shift off to explore. Of course, it isn’t set in stone; often we’re asked to visit the hospitals or shop for the boys. It’s mostly a lot of fun, Margot. Never a dull moment.’ Addy stopped and took a deep breath. ‘So can you really drive those big sheep trucks?’ she asked.

‘I can.’

‘Can you shear a sheep?’

‘If I have to. I’m terrible at it, though.’

‘Wow,’ said Addy. ‘That’s impressive.’

Margot showed the faintest hint of a smile. ‘Thank you – not all the farmers thought it was appropriate.’

Addy snorted. ‘I’m not surprised. They probably thought you should be home darning socks like a good girl.’

Margot giggled and it seemed to surprise her. Addy laughed too, relieved her new roommate was starting to thaw.

‘I’ve been sitting here wondering what on earth that is for?’ Margot asked, pointing to a tin of kerosene one of the iron bed legs was sitting in.

‘It’s to stop the bed bugs,’ said Addy. ‘They’re not like the little ones at home; these ones are much bigger. They’re awful little blighters, and when you squash them they smell revolting.’

Margot’s eyes widened. ‘Good god,’ she said.

Opening the top drawer of her dresser, Addy pulled out a packet of cigarettes and some matches. ‘You want one?’ she asked, waving the packet as she stepped across the room and out through the double doors onto their small balcony. She loved spending time out here, looking down the wide bustling Cairo street and across the rooftops to the glimpse of pyramids in the distance.

Margot joined her outside and they each lit a cigarette in silence.

‘Where are you from?’ Margot asked, blowing a plume of smoke into the air.

‘Auckland,’ Addy replied.

‘I thought you must be a city girl.’

‘Through and through. I can’t imagine living on a farm. Not that I had a very exciting life in the city. My parents were dreadfully strict. They’d be horrified to hear what I’ve been up to – not that I’ve been doing anything naughty,’ she added quickly. ‘We’re expected to go dancing with the boys, and I’m not a flirt like some others I could mention.’

‘I’m sure,’ Margot replied absent-mindedly.

Addy glanced sideways and assessed Margot more closely. She was looking forlornly into the distance as if she’d left something out there in the desert. Addy envied Margot’s thick head of curls and strong jawline. She was attractive in a striking sort of way. ‘We’re having a welcome party for you and the rest of the newcomers tonight. It was my suggestion, and I’m surprised June – I mean Sergeant Walker – agreed. She doesn’t tend to agree with me on much.’

Margot seemed to forc. . .