Women of Courage, page 9
‘Oh, I hope so, Grace. I love him so much. He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Besides being so handsome, he’s also kind and thoughtful. I have my fingers and toes crossed that he will ask me to marry him any moment now. You know Cathy, from Earlstown way? Well, her Texas pilot proposed to her last week and they’re getting married tomorrow. I’m so jealous. I’m happy for her, of course, but still... I wish Teddy would ask me.’
‘I’m sure he will, why wouldn’t he? You’re beautiful and funny and lovely, everyone loves you.’
‘Not as much as they love you, Grace. Seriously, I think even the cats and dogs follow you around with love in the hope that you will smile at them.’
‘Don’t exaggerate, I know I’m a plain-Jane, but I don’t care because my William will be coming home soon.’
‘Wow, has he had his release papers?’
‘No.’ Grace put the chopping knife down, with a huge sigh. ‘He’s been wounded.’
‘Oh no! Not too badly I hope?’
‘I don’t think so, the letter I received didn’t say too much, just that he was wounded and that he could finally come home for some leave. I know he’s been hurt, Eleanor, but I’m so happy I could burst.’ Eleanor gave her another huge hug. ‘It’s been two years since he last came home on leave, his Major always seemed to have some good reason to delay it, but now he’s been wounded he can come home.’
‘That’s good news. But back to what I was saying, I didn’t mean people are in love with you, just that everyone loves you. Seriously, Grace, I’ve never met a nicer person in my entire life.’
Grace could hear Eleanor choking up and felt her own eyes prick with the sting of oncoming tears. ‘I love you too, Eleanor.’
A fit of coughing from the other room broke into their moment, and concern instantly came on Grace’s face.
‘It’s not getting any better, is it?’ said Eleanor.
Grace shook her head. ‘I persuaded the doctor to come again, just this morning. He’s prescribed some cough mixture but I know he doesn’t actually know what’s causing it.’
‘Can’t we take him to the hospital?’
‘He won’t go. He’s adamant he’s just got a cold in his chest, and nothing I say about coughing for nearly a year will make him listen. I wasn’t too worried at first, but now I’m sure he’s beginning to lose weight and I don’t think that’s a good sign.’
After their supper of soup and bread and cheese, the three of them settled into the living room to listen to the BBC Home Service on the wireless. Richard, who now wore round spectacles, was reading the newspaper. Grace and Eleanor curled up on the sofa to listen to the music. After only a short while, Eleanor yawned.
‘How’s it going in the Vulcan Foundry these days, Eleanor?’ inquired Richard, peering over the rim of his glasses.
‘It’s hard work. I’ve never felt so exhausted in all my life. I thought shifting hay was bad and that moving to the factory was a good idea, but I was wrong. It’s long, hard days of physical labour and my body is developing the most unfeminine muscles a lady could possibly get. You know, we spotted the Luftwaffe flying over us yesterday taking photographs. Everyone’s in a tis-was now, believing they will be back soon to bomb us. The gaffer has ordered that absolutely no one is to be on site after dark.’
‘Surely, this war must end soon?’ said Grace.
‘Four years,’ said Richard. ‘I never would have believed that we could fight for so long. I keep thinking that today will be the day when we can ring the church bells ring again.’ Suddenly, Richard spluttered and started coughing so harshly that his body rocked with the force of it.
Both Grace and Eleanor jumped up and rushed to his side.
‘Dad, try to drink,’ said Grace holding a cup of water in front of him.
As the coughing fit eased off, Richard accepted the cup and took several sips of water. When the coughing had completely stopped, he sighed and sat back into his chair.
‘Seriously, Grace, Eleanor, I’m fine. It’s just a cough; I don’t feel ill at all.’
Grace opened her mouth.
‘No, Grace, seriously, I won’t listen to another argument for visiting the hospital. Those poor doctors and nurses have enough to do without me appearing for a stupid cough. I’m fine.’ He flicked his hands at them. ‘Go on, shoo. Let’s talk about something more cheering, shall we? Eleanor, tell me something new about this young man of yours, we haven’t seen much of him lately.’
Eleanor sat back on the sofa and couldn’t help the smile that lit up her face.
‘Well... Teddy’s been at the Burtonwood base since the beginning of February, so that’s...’ Eleanor counted on her fingers.
‘That’s five months, gosh, it’s frightening how quickly time flies, isn’t it? It only feels like yesterday when I met him.’
‘And is he going to make an honest woman of you?’
‘Dad!’
Eleanor laughed. ‘I certainly hope so, Richard.’
‘Are you going to bring him home, sometime soon?’ asked Grace.
‘I was hoping as he is off this Sunday that he could come around for dinner after church, if that’s all right with you two?’
‘Of course, delightful young man, be a pleasure to see him again,’ smiled Richard.
‘It would be rather nice to see him again, and cooking him a dinner would be a lovely way to say thank you for the sugar,’ said Grace.
‘He’ll be so pleased. He’s missing home very much; I think a family dinner will cheer him up no end.’
‘Listen,’ said Grace getting up to turn the volume up, ‘Worker’s Playtime is coming on.’
‘Oh good,’ said Richard folding up his paper. ‘I could do with a laugh.’
‘Rather,’ agreed Eleanor.
The three of them spent the next hour laughing and putting the horrors of war out of their thoughts.
The next day Grace was up before the birds, dressed, washed and out of the house before either Eleanor or Richard had even stirred. She pedalled to the farm in the dark, glad of her warm coat. Although it was June, the weather hadn’t been great, and the swirling morning mist was damp and cold. Propping her bike against the cowshed she went straight to work. She had mucked out and fed the pigs before Giles came out to find her.
‘Ee-gods Grace, what ya doin’ ‘ere at this time o’t mornin’?’
She laughed. ‘I have pickling to do, Giles. Tons and tons of pickling. Need to be home as early as possible so I can get cracking.’
‘You’re crackers, lass. Go on, get yerself off ‘ome. We’ll mange without ‘ee today.’
Grace needed no second telling. ‘Thank you, Giles. I’ll stay a bit longer tomorrow. I have something to ask though, before I go.’
‘What’s that then, lass?’
‘Do you think I could take today’s batch of ripened strawberries? It’s just that I have been given some sugar, and I’d love to make a batch of jam.’
‘Goodness me, girl. Go ‘elp yerself. For dear life, how many times do I have to tell ‘ee? Food is for sharing and you earn your share, good ‘n proper.’
Grace’s grin nearly split her cheeks. ‘Thank you. William is going to be coming home soon and I know he loves strawberry jam. I’m just so excited to be able to make him some.’
‘Get on with you, lass. I’ll see ‘ee tomorrow.’
Grace waved as she raced off down the field to the strawberry patch. It was a very small patch this year, as nearly all the land had been turned to producing high volumes of vegetables. However, Giles’ wife had insisted on having one small run to plant her favourite fruit. The sun was creeping into the sky, throwing a soft, warm glow over the land, and when the rays fell on Grace’s face, happiness radiated through her. Birds tweeted merrily in the hedgerow, oblivious to the horrors of war, and she was flooded with feelings of well-being and a moment of contentment.
‘Thank you, God. Thank you so much for sending my William home to me.’
With her basket heavy with ripened, plump and juicy strawberries, Grace rode home slowly so as not to shake it and knock any out. The High Street was coming alive by the time she got back to town.
‘Morning, Grace,’ called the butcher, propping open his shop door.
She waved back. ‘Morning George.’ The bike wobbled and she nearly lost her precious load.
‘Steady on, lass,’ called Joe, laughing.
‘Morning, Joe,’ she called as she turned the bike into the drive that ran down the side of the vicarage.
Eleanor came out of the back door just as she was propping her bike against the shed. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you home?’
‘Nothing’s wrong. Giles said he could do without me today and I’m going to do some pickling and make some jam.’
‘Umm,’ said Eleanor putting a strawberry into her mouth.
‘Hey, you,’ laughed Grace.
‘Can I take your bike today? I think mine has a slow puncture and I don’t have time to look at it.’
‘Sure, no problem. Have a good day, see you later.’
Grace took the strawberries straight to the sink and gave them a quick rinse through. Not long after that, the smell of strawberries wafted through the house as they bubbled away in the sugar. It wasn’t until she heard her father coughing upstairs that she realised he was late getting out of bed.
Not able to leave the jam she started her daily chat with God, lifting up her father again, and asking for a full and swift recovery.
She’d just screwed the cap onto the twelfth and last jar of jam when Richard came into the kitchen, still in his dressing gown.
‘Don’t look like that, I’m just feeling a little tired today and thought I would rest. I’m fine, and before you start, I don’t want a lecture today.’ He sat down in the rocking chair by the fireplace and Grace washed her hands.
‘Tea?’
‘Yes please, dear.’
She had recently filled the large teapot and placed the cosy over it to keep it warm, ready for when he came down. She knew how much he liked a strong cup of tea, and so she had used her last ration to get some yesterday.
‘Here you go, Dad,’ she said placing the cup down on the small table near his chair.
Richard reached up and grabbed her hand. ‘You’re a good girl, you know that?’
‘I’m hardly a girl any more, Dad.’
‘You’ll always be my little girl. You know your mother would be so proud of you.’
Grace reached down and hugged her dad tight. He never mentioned her mum much and for some reason mentioning her today seemed to spark a bit of fear inside her.
Richard didn’t want any breakfast, nor did he want to go and sit in his study, so Grace carried the heavy wireless into the kitchen and tuned into the BBC so that he could listen to ‘Music while you Work’. She was glad she had lit a fire in the kitchen today, something not normally done in June, but she wanted to jacket some potatoes. She also put a pile of clothes up to dry on the pulley-maid, which hung from the ceiling, because although it was sunny now she knew it was going to rain later. Grace was only thirty-one years old but suffered terribly from arthritis, and by the amount of pain her knees were giving her just now, she was sure it would rain within the next couple of hours.
As she threw the peppercorns, mustard seed, bay leaves and onions into the pan and hummed along to Bing Crosby, she was aware that, without words, she was having a special moment with her father.
From an early age, her father had told her to watch out for special moments and to make a clear record of it in her memory. It would be these recorded memories that she could recall when needed, that would help her to get through tough days.
The first special memory that she had stored in her mind was a day with her dad on the beach in Blackpool. Since then, she had squirreled away moments aplenty.
As she put the now-cooled onions into jars and poured the malt vinegar over them, she knew her father was watching her, she could feel his love in his gaze. For the second time that day, well-being washed over her.
I’m so blessed. A wonderful father, a fiancée coming home, the best friend anyone could want, a lovely home and to top it all off the reassurance that God was real and cared about them.
To conclude a special day, Teddy came for dinner and had all of them howling with laughter. He really was a dream, and Grace totally understood why Eleanor was head-over-heels in love with him.
Falling
1943
‘I’m not sure about this, Eleanor.’
‘Trust me, Grace, you look amazing.’
Eleanor had been asking, can I do-you-up, since the day she arrived, and until today Grace had always replied with a resounding, no. Not sure what had happened, Grace had given in and put herself in Eleanor’s hands. She had been primped and preened until she didn’t recognize herself anymore. Seriously, looking in the mirror in that moment was like looking at a mannequin in a shop window. Her hair was sprayed stiff, and then wrapped into large curls on the top of her head; adding both a little height and an air of sophistication. Eleanor had carefully painted her face with a myriad of cosmetics, splashes of blue over the eyes, black kohl on the inside of the eyelids, powders to subdue her natural sun-kissed, freckle-filled cheeks and deep red lipstick.
To finish it off Eleanor had bought Grace a new dress, and that was where most of the arguing now stemmed from. Its heart-shaped neckline was slightly too revealing for Grace’s mind, and although the material was most wondrously soft and lovely to touch, it hugged her figure in a rather revealing manner. But... the nail in the coffin, to coin a phrase, was that the dress was the deepest and richest colour of red Grace had ever seen.
‘I’m sorry, Eleanor, you’re just going to have to take it back, I can’t wear it. It simply isn’t me.’
‘Don’t be silly, Grace. You look amazing. Go on, for once in your life let your hair down, just go along with it and have some fun.’
‘To be pedantic, my hair is actually up.’
Eleanor came and stood behind Grace and put her hands on her shoulders, as the two of them looked in the mirror. ‘Seriously, Grace, you look amazing, please come out with me just as you are?’
‘I don’t know, Eleanor, I’ll only be a gooseberry with you and Teddy anyway.’
‘Grace, the place is going to be packed, of course you won’t be a gooseberry. Come on, say yes, we’ll have so much fun.’
Grace stared at Eleanor’s pleading eyes in the mirror and after hours of debating, finally gave in. ‘Okay, then.’
Eleanor threw her arms in the air. ‘Hallelujah!’
‘Oy,’ said Grace, giving Eleanor a tender thump on the arm.
Laughing, Eleanor grabbed her clutch bag off the bed and opened the door. ‘Come on, let’s go before you change your mind.’
As Eleanor headed downstairs Grace picked up a hankie, placed it in-between her lips and pressed down hard. When she removed the hankie most of the lipstick was left on it in the impression of her lips. There was only a hint of red on her lips now, but absolutely enough as far as she was concerned. She was just about to go after Eleanor when she stopped and looked at her finger. Without hesitation she pulled off William’s ring and left it on the dresser; there was no way she was going to risk losing it.
As she went rushing down the stairs, a car horn beeped three times.
‘Come on, Grace, they’re here.’ Eleanor flung open the door, and then went running down the path.
‘Have a nice time,’ Richard called, popping his head around the door. Grace blew him a kiss before shutting the front door. Despite not wanting to go out in the first place, for at the age of thirty-two she felt she was well past going to dance halls, she was surprisingly giddy as she hastened down the path after Eleanor.
As she approached the black Hillman Minx she slowed down, in debate with herself once more on exactly how good an idea this was. Eleanor pushed her head out of the car window.
‘Come on, slow-coach.’
The passenger door was open and Grace caught sight of the driver as he leant over to smile at her. Bump! Her heart felt as if it had stopped for a moment as the sparkling blue eyes of the driver caught hers. A weird sensation rippled through her as she climbed into the car. Her mouth was dry and her face flushed as she pulled the door shut.
‘This is Milton,’ said Eleanor leaning between the two front seats. ‘Milton, this is Grace.’ She looked at both their faces and the realization that they liked each other was obvious, making her laugh. ‘I knew you two would get on,’ she said, leaning back and snuggling into Teddy.
‘Nice to meet you,’ said Milton putting out his hand.
‘And you,’ Grace replied, tentatively giving him her hand. She was surprised when he gave her hand a tight squeeze.
‘Let’s go dancing,’ Milton said, with the nicest smile Grace had ever seen.
A short time later Milton parked the car and the four got out into a packed street. Grace looked around, slightly shocked to see so many people. Milton offered Grace his arm, which she took automatically and the four of them joined the throngs of people heading towards the Parr dance hall.
The Saints jazz band weren’t due to start playing for another hour and yet the queue to get in went right round the block. Grace was bemused at the joviality and good-natured banter that was all around.
‘I take it you haven’t been into town for a while?’
Milton’s American drawl felt like honey to Grace’s ears and for a moment, she forgot to answer. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she lost herself for a heartbeat in his deep, speckled-blue eyes.
‘Oh, yes, it’s been a very long time since I’ve been into Warrington during the evening. I didn’t realize there was still such vibrancy around.’
‘People need to let off steam,’ chipped in Teddy.
‘Too right they do. Dancing is a wonderful release from fear and misery. When I’m on the dance floor I can forget, for a while, about everything else and just have fun.’ Eleanor threw her arms up in the air and spun around. Teddy instantly took her in his arms and flipped her backwards over his arm. She landed smartly on her feet, dress demurely back in place around her knees where it should never have left. Grace was agog. Everyone laughed at her.
