Letters To Alice. Rosie James

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СКАЧАТЬ Gloria Hammond owned the small terraced house where Alice had rented a furnished room since leaving the Carmichaels’ place in Clifton. Gloria was a determined optimist – especially since Mr. Churchill had become prime minister last year – and although she’d agreed to tape up her windows to lessen the effect of any bomb blast, she flatly refused to use the Anderson shelter in the vicinity, preferring to sit in the cupboard under the stairs with her wireless and a bottle of gin. “When your number’s up…” she used to say when anyone tried to persuade her to take more effective cover. The house was situated close to the church of the Holy Nativity in Totterdown, and Alice sometimes went there to pray for the souls of her beloved mother and father. And to pray that Sam thought of her sometimes. That he would never forget her.

      ‘Bloody glad to hear that,’ Fay said enthusiastically. ‘I’m hoping that where we’re going there’s a decent pub – or even an indecent one! Somewhere to unwind at the end of the hard days we’ve been warned about.’ She sighed. ‘I bet they’ll choose me to muck out the pigs, and shovel the shit!’ She gave Alice a sidelong glance. ‘Whereas…I can see you feeding the chickens, collecting the eggs, and giving a little newborn lamb its bottle! You look far too fragile to get your hands dirty!’

      ‘Oh, I’m quite used to getting my hands dirty,’ Alice assured her. ‘Anyway – I’m sure we’ll share the duties.’ She smiled up at Fay, taking another wine gum. She liked Fay.

      Just then, the last passenger got on the bus and walked carefully up the aisle towards them. She was wearing a blue and white pin-stripe dress with a neat Peter Pan collar, a straw boater, and short white gloves. A mass of auburn curls framed a rather earnest-looking face. She paused hesitantly, as if waiting to be invited to sit down, and Fay looked up and patted the seat next to her.

      ‘Yer –come and join us,’ she said heartily, and one or two looked around to see who was talking. Fay’s voice had a ringing quality to it, edged with a smoker’s huskiness – which suited the rest of her, Alice thought. ‘Come on – let’s give you a hand with that thing.’ Fay helped the other girl to slide her suitcase alongside. ‘And we might as well get the formalities over with – I’m Fay – this is Alice – and you’re…?’

      Another moment’s hesitation before – ‘I’m…I’m Eve Miles,’ the girl said, sitting down. Then – ‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ she added demurely, taking off her hat and gloves, and putting them with the handbag on her lap.

      As the bus trundled away from Temple Meads railway station – the picking-up point for everyone – conversation, which had been somewhat muted and discreet, soon gathered momentum. That was the thing with this war. Complete strangers talked to each other without reticence, exchanging views and news on everything from bomb damage and rationing to what they’d do to Herr Hitler if they got the chance. And some of the things Alice had heard weren’t fit for the ears of polite company. Still, you couldn’t blame anyone. Look at the row of houses they were passing…well, they had once been a row of houses, now just a filthy mass of rubble and blackened bricks. And scenes like that were repeated in many other parts of the city. Who knew what happened to all the poor occupants? They’d have to start all over again…if they’d survived.

      Alice turned to glance out of the side window for a moment, her expression softening as she thought of Helena Carmichael, and the children.

      Especially she thought of Sam…well, she was always thinking of Sam.

      Not too sure where Sam was at the moment, she hadn’t heard recently. But the younger ones were all safe and sound, their boarding schools having been evacuated to remote parts of the country. It was true that the city had enjoyed a few months of comparative peace since the last bombardment, but no one was taking the brief silence for granted…you just never knew. The deadly Blitz in April had left everything and everyone temporarily – only temporarily – shattered. But resolute. Whatever happened, people had kept going about their daily business, shops, offices, limited transport, salvaging what they could to stay open and working. Encouraging each other with optimistic banter and snatches of songs…“Hitler you’re barmy, you should have joined the army…” The war had brought a city of complete strangers into one big family intent on supporting each other, and most seemed to be cheerful in spite of everything, each determined to “do their bit” for the war effort. It was amazing how things sometimes turned out.

      Alice had been expecting to be called up for the war effort but hadn’t considered the particular role set out for her. She’d been interviewed, and passed her medical test with flying colours, thank goodness – well, she was made of stern stuff, even if she was rather slight. And she was seldom unwell, for which she was grateful. No, she realized she could have been marked out for anything. Factory work, hospital work…perhaps even European resistance work! That might have been exciting! If rather dangerous. Probably very dangerous… Alice had sometimes allowed her imagination to wander as she’d got on with her job as a shorthand typist in one of the city’s estate agent’s.

      She settled back into her seat. She was lucky – they were all lucky on this bus. At least where they were going they wouldn’t be waiting for the air-raid siren to start its terrifying wail, no more listening for that hateful throbbing of German aircraft as you ran, panicking, to take shelter, no more listening to the thunder of falling bombs, of seeing fires light up the night sky, of feeling broken glass and telegraph wires scrunch under your feet as next day you walked along after a raid, trying to get to work. There’d be none of that, deep in the countryside…the enemy wouldn’t waste time and ammunition down there. And if they did ever hear the siren – where they were going – it would be a long way away, wouldn’t it? For the benefit of the city dwellers, not for them.

      Yes, Alice did feel really lucky. And not for the first time. Lady Luck had been shadowing her for a lot of her life – even if she’d known great sadness, too.

      They were well away from the outskirts of Bristol now, and heading into the Somerset countryside, and suddenly her introspection was interrupted by Fay exclaiming – ‘Just look at us! We’re like the three wise bloody monkeys sitting ’ere… See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil!’ She giggled infectiously at her own observation, though Eve – who had had her eyes closed – only managed a faint smile in response. And Alice said –

      ‘Well, we can’t do much about the first two – but what about the third one…?’

      ‘Oh, I can’t promise anything,’ Fay said airily. ‘If evil seeks me out, I’ll give as good as I get, don’t you worry!’

      Just then, the Women’s Volunteer Service member who’d checked them all off on her clipboard as they’d got on the bus earlier, stood up from her seat in the front. She was a portly, kindly woman, dressed in a dark uniform. She’d taken off her hat which she was flapping at her face and neck, trying to cool off. She lifted her hand, and almost immediately everyone stopped talking to listen.

      ‘Now then, ladies…’ She raised her voice against the noise of the engine. ‘My name is Iris, and I’m here to hand you over, so to speak, and make sure everyone gets to their right place.’ She paused. ‘I realize this is a bit of a mystery tour, but soon we’ll be dropping groups of you off at various farms where you’ll be working.’ She glanced down at her clipboard. ‘I hope you’ve all remembered to bring your uniforms – and identity cards – and please give your ration books to the farmer’s wife, or whoever asks you for it.’ She looked around at everyone searchingly. ‘This is going to be a very different way of life for most of you, but I know you’ll all do your best. This war can’t last for ever, and in the meantime we’re all in it together, aren’t we? And I hope you’ll all be “healthy and happy in the Women’s Land Army,”’ she added, quoting the advertising slogan. She paused. ‘Now, anyone got any questions?’

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