Winter on the Mersey(50)



‘Yes, she’s making a very thorough check of a big delivery of tomatoes,’ Violet told her solemnly.

Nancy almost skipped down the street, despite the pain in her feet from wearing impractical sandals for a busy shift. She knew she should wear more sensible ones, and had told herself off time and time again, but she’d felt like dressing up this morning. The miracle had happened. Gary had managed to get a message to her. One of the GIs under him had been shipped home wounded, but had recovered enough to come back to the WVS canteen. He had been told to seek out ‘the lady who looks like Rita Hayworth’ and pass on the news that Staff Sergeant Trenton was alive and well, fighting fit but looking forward to coming back to Liverpool. That was all. He didn’t know any details, such as when that might be, and he’d been wounded so early on in the proceedings that he couldn’t really say where Gary was now. However Nancy didn’t care.

Gary had survived the first onslaught, which everyone was saying would be the most dangerous part, and had thought so highly of her that he’d arranged this way of telling her how he was. She knew the young GI couldn’t have been expected to say he sent his love or anything as sentimental as that. Still, he’d cared enough to take the trouble, and that had made her day. It was only yesterday that she’d heard. Since then she had been on cloud nine and had struggled to hide her joy from her inquisitive mother-in-law.

Then on top of it all she had all the brownie points from her family, sharing out the baby clothes like she had. It was no skin off her nose, and in fact it might even annoy her mother-in-law if she found out, except she wouldn’t be able to say anything without sounding extremely mean. It just got better and better. Nancy was fond of baby Ellen, and knew that she’d look even more adorable in the clothes; Rita simply didn’t have the time to go out and hunt down new ones. As for Violet, Nancy couldn’t begrudge her the loan of anything, seeing as she’d been so good with Georgie and had gone through the hell of losing Eddy. Nancy sometimes was taken aback when Georgie spontaneously asked for Violet before anyone else, including her, if anything went wrong, but she found it hard to resent her sister-in-law. She was too sunny-tempered to fall out with. On a day like today, Nancy felt she might not ever fall out with anyone ever again. Even the prospect of hand-washing her delicate blouse and treating it with Reckitt’s Blue didn’t quench her joy. Despite everything, life was good.

Kitty looked around at the station as they drew in, recognising it as Crewe. She had changed here on several occasions and it was always crowded, its platforms thronged with servicemen and -women in all sorts of uniforms, many with big kitbags. There were often wounded personnel being escorted to hospitals around the country. No wonder the one on Linacre Lane in Bootle was so keen for Rita to return. The knock-on effect of D-day and the ongoing campaign in France meant a steady stream of injured Allies returning for treatment, and everywhere was feeling the strain.

It was also the station where she’d first met Laura, she thought, and laughed at the memory. Kitty had been nervous about leaving home for the first time, shut in a carriage with some young and impudent soldiers, when a very posh voice had asked her to shove up, then the young woman – Laura, as it transpired – had handed round cake. Now Kitty was meeting her here again, but she was unsure what the urgency was. Still, she knew Laura wasn’t given to panicking or hare-brained schemes, so she must really need to see her about something. Kitty had been happy to give up one of her precious days of leave to learn what it was all about.

She checked her watch as she left the train. Laura should be arriving in a few minutes if her train was on time, but Kitty didn’t hold out much hope of that. She wandered along to the end of the platform to get some fresh air, away from the milling crowd. A small group of young women in civvies stood anxiously waiting, and Kitty wondered if they were expecting the arrival of wounded loved ones. How hard that must be. Yet at least they wouldn’t be left high and dry like poor Violet.

By a miracle only twenty minutes late the London train was announced, and Kitty positioned herself for a good view of everyone getting off. It was bound to be busy and she didn’t want to miss her friend. As it turned out there was little chance of that, as Laura had chosen her most colourful dress in a bright geometric print in red, white and blue.

‘Do you think I look terrifically patriotic?’ she greeted Kitty, swinging a neat leather weekend bag by its handle. ‘I chose it specially. I like to think I bring a little cheer into the travelling public’s life. What do you say?’ She twirled theatrically and several more dowdily clad women turned and frowned.

‘I bet you do that all right,’ grinned Kitty. ‘And there was I wondering if I’d be able to spot you. Come on, let’s grab a cuppa, there’s a counter over there.’

They made their way to a neighbouring platform where a queue of people was waiting for refreshments. The buffet was large and airy, with an intricately patterned tiled floor, and in peacetime had probably been a pleasant place in which to unwind between journeys, but today it was bursting at the seams.

‘Do you mind if we don’t?’ asked Laura, peering dubiously into the big room. ‘I’d like a smidgeon of privacy if at all possible. There’s a hotel next to the station – maybe we could go there.’

‘Of course,’ said Kitty, happy to go along with Laura’s suggestion.

She followed her friend as she swiftly wove her way through the exit and round to the hotel, which was indeed directly next to the station, and watched as Laura with her trademark combination of charm and determination secured them a quiet table in the bar area, next to a window. ‘There, you see,’ she said. ‘Peace and quiet and a bit of a breeze. Just what we need.’

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