Читать книгу Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit - Anne Bennett - Страница 21

England at least was preparing for war. Molly’s grandfather told her of the trenches dug in Birmingham parks and the reinforced brick-built shelters that were going up everywhere. Even the children got involved, and Kevin wrote and told her of the hundreds of bags they had spent ages filling with sand through the hot summer days.

Hilda explained to her about the blackout and the issuing of gas masks.

Not a chink of light to be seen outside and if it is, you face a fine of £200, think on that? And the ruddy gas masks is just horrible. They smell to high heaven, and everyone has a box to put them in that they must carry around their neck in case of gas attacks, they say.

‘What are these gas attacks like, Uncle Tom?’ Molly asked one day in the cowshed.

‘Well,’ Tom said, ‘I can only talk about the last war when the Germans used mustard gas on the soldiers. It buggers up, I mean, damages the lungs so that a person can’t breathe.’

‘Does it kill?’

‘Aye, I believe it can do,’ Tom said. ‘I suppose all these measures are to protect the civilian population. They are sending the children away too, so Joe said. Did your grandfather tell you that?’

Molly nodded. ‘Doesn’t affect them,’ she said. ‘Erdington obviously isn’t considered a high-risk area.’

‘Tottenham is,’ Tom said. ‘But Joe says that Gloria won’t even consider Ben going anywhere.’

‘I don’t blame her either,’ Molly said. ‘But it is scary, isn’t it?’

‘All war is scary,’ Tom said. ‘Only a fool wouldn’t be scared, and though the raids and all won’t happen here, because Ireland has declared itself neutral, we have loved ones to worry about in England that I am certain will soon be in the thick of it.’

‘I know,’ Molly said, and her heart felt as heavy as lead.

On Friday, 1 September, the day many children from England’s cities were travelling to unknown destinations, Germany invaded Poland. Molly’s eyes met those of her uncle as the voice on the wireless told them what this meant. Everyone with a grain of common sense knew already.

Molly was glad the following Sunday that her grandmother wasn’t the kind to linger after nine o’clock Mass. There was going to be an address by the British Prime Minister, just after eleven, and Molly wanted to have the opportunity to listen to it, although she knew what it was going to say.

She wasn’t disappointed either. By 11.15 a.m. on Sunday 3 September 1939, she heard that Britain was at war with Germany, and she felt suddenly numbed with fear.

Everyone, both in Ireland and Britain, expected raids from the air once war between Britain and Germany was official, but it didn’t happen. In fact, nothing did. There were battles at sea and ships sunk which were often reported in the Irish papers. Though Molly could feel sorry about the sailors who had lost their lives, that didn’t adversely affect her loved ones at all.

In fact, what seemed to affect them most was the blackout. As Hilda put it,

Telling you, Molly, you ain’t seen dark like it. You can’t see a hand in front of you. And there’s accidents, of course. I mean, stands to reason. Some of them have been little, like slipping off kerbs and that, and you do feel right daft when you find yourself apologising to the pillar box, or lamppost you have just walked into. But, some of the accidents have been more serious and people have been injured, or even killed on the roads, because the cars and buses and stuff are unlit too. In fact, my old man says he wonders who the enemy is, for Germany has been quiet since the balloon really went up. Calm before the storm, I dare say, but if the government don’t do summat about this here blackout soon, there won’t be the people left to fight Hitler off if he does try to take a pop at us.

Her granddad hated it as much as anyone else, but he was also dreading the rationing that was being introduced in the new year.

I know, though, it will be a fairer system and much better than the last war when the rich bought all before them, so that in some places there was little left in the shops for the rest of us. Anyway, I suppose I must put up with it like everyone else. If you utter a word in complaint about any damned thing these days you are reminded there is a war on. I mean, as if you are likely to forget.

I’ve had word that we are having our Anderson shelter delivered next week. We have the pit already dug and once the shelter is up I will make it as snug as I can for the two of us. Then Hitler can do his worst and we’ll be as safe as houses.

Now, Molly, I want you to listen to me. I never wanted you to go to Ireland in the first place and I know that you would be well aware of that. And you also know that in the normal way of things I would welcome you back tomorrow, but you are safer where you are and I want you to stay put until this little lot is over. Me and Kevin are all right, but you would be put to work in a munitions factory or something like that, and those are the places that will be right in the firing range if any attacks come. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to either of you children.

Molly could understand her granddad’s concern and was glad too that he was having the Anderson shelter delivered at last. She might not be that ecstatic about the two of them burrowing inside a tin shack buried in the garden but she had to admit that if the raids came, it had to be a safer place to bide than out in the open with no protection at all.

Spring came early in 1940, and, even though she longed to go back to Birmingham, by May Molly thought the countryside had never looked better. The sunshine lent a glow to everything, and many of the trees were heavy with fragrant blossom. Added to this, all the crops were ripening very satisfactorily in the fields. The war seemed a million miles away.

And yet just the previous evening she had heard a man on the wireless tell them of the bombing of Rotterdam that left nine hundred people dead. Molly felt sick, for she knew that this was Blitzkrieg, or lightning war, which the Germans had promised was coming and she also knew what had been done in Rotterdam could be achieved just as well in Birmingham, London or anywhere else they chose.

No one was surprised when Belgium and Holland surrendered, and then towards the end of the month they heard of the defeat of France, the Allied troops trapped on the beaches of Dunkirk and the frantic efforts to rescue them.

‘Don’t the people in Birmingham tell you any of this?’ Tom asked Molly one day in early June as they did the milking together.

‘If they try, like they did in the beginning, then the censor cuts it out,’ Molly said. ‘Now they stick to general things like how hard it is to make the rations stretch and how they have food programmes on the wireless every day and between films in the cinema, and there are hints and tips in the newspapers and magazines. Granddad has taken on an allotment with Hilda’s husband, Alf, though he says he now has a fine crop of potatoes growing in the earth he piled on top of the Anderson shelter.’

‘Which they haven’t had any occasion to use yet.’

‘No, thank God,’ Molly said fervently. ‘It is bound to come, though. The government have recommended putting tape crisscrossing the windows to prevent flying glass in the event of an attack, and the blackout is as stringent as ever, though they are now allowing shielded torches and shielded light on cars and other vehicles.’

‘That must help.’

‘Yeah,’ Molly said with a wry smile. ‘It would, I think, if the batteries for the torches were easier to get hold of. Granddad said he reckons that he could get hold of the crown jewels with less bother. I mean,’ she added, ‘there isn’t much light to be had from the stars and the moon in the smoky Birmingham skies.’

‘And that might be just as well, when all is said and done,’ Tom said.

Molly looked at Tom, but didn’t say anything. She was no fool and knew exactly what he was meaning, for a full moon shining brightly in the sky, as she had often seen it in Ireland, would surely light the way for any enemy planes determined to empty their load over Britain.

Tom saw the look on her face and wished he had kept his big mouth shut.

In mid-July, platoons of soldiers from the Irish Army arrived in Buncrana. It was strange to see soldiers thronging the streets, filling the marketplace and a fair few drinking at the hotel where Molly would meet up with her uncle on Saturday before walking back into the town.

‘Do you know what they are doing here?’ she asked Tom as they set off the first day.

‘Aye,’ Tom said. ‘Me and Jack had a fine chat with them. Apparently, they are here to guard Ireland’s neutrality.’

Molly stared at Tom open-mouthed. ‘You can’t be serious?’

‘That’s what they said.’

‘Yes, but, Uncle Tom, Hitler’s armies have goose-stepped throughout half of the world and emerged victorious. What earthly chance have a few soldiers got against such an army?’

Tom shrugged. ‘Better than doing nothing, I suppose,’ he said. ‘Anyway, it is even more important now.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the navy has commandeered Derry and that’s awfully close. They say Lough Foyle is filling up with naval craft, and the docks at Derry are now known as HMS Ferret. The soldier we spoke to said the British are building new airfields all over the six counties.’

‘For what, exactly?’

‘Well, I think it is all hush-hush,’ Tom said. ‘These soldiers weren’t told it chapter and verse or anything, but these things get about. One fella says they will be doing convoy duty, trying to protect the merchant ships that will sail up to meet them. Good thing too, I’d say, especially as the southern ports are having a time of it just now.’

They were too. Night after night they heard on the wireless of the blitzing of those coastal towns. Molly felt sorry for the families suffering from such a battering, and Hitler massing his troops just across the channel.

Churchill claimed ‘the Battle of Britain’ was about to begin, which he said would be fought mainly in the air. He warned those in Britain to brace themselves for he was certain the whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned upon them. Molly knew that was right, for though the threat of invasion seemed less, almost every night Hitler’s bombers began attacking London and other areas.

‘Birmingham isn’t mentioned,’ Tom said one night as he turned the wireless set off. ‘It just mentions a Midland town and that could be anywhere.’

‘I am pretty certain that it is Birmingham,’ Molly said. ‘Remember the raid last month that the newscaster said took the roof off the Market Hall in the Bull Ring in the city centre, and the later one that did damage to the church there, St Martin’s? Well, Birmingham’s Bull Ring has both places and it would be too much of a coincidence for another Midland town to have exactly the same buildings, I would have thought. Believe me, Uncle Tom, Birmingham is getting its share too.’

The nightly raids seemed to increase through October, and then the letters from Stan and Hilda ceased. At first, Molly wasn’t that bothered. Nellie told her that the shifting of letters might not be a priority for a country in the grip of war and to have patience. October gave way to November and Molly’s letters to those in Birmingham had a frantic edge to them. Deep anxiety dogged her from morning till night and invaded her dreams while she slept.

‘I don’t care what Granddad said,’ Molly declared as she walked home with Tom one Sunday in early November after telling him of the lack of the letters she so relied on. ‘I must go and see if they are all right. It’s the not knowing that gets to you after a while.’

‘It’s not a country I would be choosing to visit just now.’

‘Nor I, by choice.’

‘How will you manage it?’

‘The same as everyone else, I suppose.’

‘I mean …’

‘I have money, Tom, if that’s what you are worrying about,’ Molly said, and she told him about the fund set up by Paul Simmons. ‘Apart from the paper, stamps and envelopes, which I often saved your sixpences for, the money has been untouched for years.’

Tom’s face was one beam of relief. ‘You don’t know how good that makes me feel that you will have a bit of money behind you. It is one less thing to worry about.’

‘Next Saturday in Buncrana I will buy the tickets and make preparations,’ Molly said. ‘All I ask of you is that you cover for me on the morning I leave.’

‘I will help you in any way I can, you know that.’

However, before Saturday they heard of the massive raid on Coventry on 14 November, which began just after seven. Coventry had been attacked before but that night it was, according to the wireless, the fiercest yet.

Biddy gave a grim humourless laugh and said to Molly with gloating satisfaction, ‘Hah, there will be none of your precious country standing when the Germans have finished.’

‘Do you know,’ Molly said, ‘I think you are seriously unhinged. Why d’you think the Germans so wonderful? What d’you think would have happened to us all if the Germans had invaded? I tell you this much, they would have made short shrift of you. And don’t even think about that,’ she warned as she saw her grandmother’s fist raised. ‘You touch me and you’ll get twice as much back.’

Biddy was incensed, but saw that Molly meant what she had said. She had once told her grandmother that she could get away with hitting her only because she was bigger and stronger and said that it wouldn’t always be that way. Now, while Molly hadn’t grown terribly tall, she was hardened through the work on the farm, while the years had aged her grandmother, who had developed a slight stoop. Because of the indolent life Biddy had adopted when she had Molly to skivvy for her, she had become quite plump.

Biddy knew she was no match for Molly now and she lowered her clenched fist and contented herself with snarling, ‘I bet they’ll be none belonging to you left alive in that godforsaken place after this little lot is over. They will be burned to a crisp like those in Coventry.’

Molly didn’t even bother replying to this, knowing there was little point, and the following evening she found out the true extent of the damage to Coventry. In a raid that had gone on for over nine hours, the city was pounded by 500 bombers that destroyed over four thousand houses, three-quarters of the factories and annihilated the tram system, leaving nearly six hundred dead and countless others injured. The euphoric German papers were claiming to have invented a new word, Koventrieren, which was to signify the razing to the ground of a place. Molly knew with a dread certainty that Birmingham would be in line for some of the same.

That thought, however, only strengthened her determination. The next day being a Saturday, she visited Buncrana. Tom had barely brought the cart to a stop outside the Market Hall before Molly had jumped out of it. She was in too much of a tear to get things in motion to wait to set up the produce as she normally did and Tom knew this.

‘Away then,’ he said, and Molly needed no further bidding.

‘Where’s she off to?’ she heard her grandmother ask peevishly.

‘Running an errand for me,’ Tom replied.

‘What sort of errand?’ Biddy asked, and though Molly by then was too far away to hear Tom’s answer, she didn’t care what he said anyway. She had things to do here and no one was going to stop her. She made her way to Main Street and the post office. She had arranged with Nellie already that she would remove all the money from her account bar one pound, as she didn’t know how much things might cost. Cathy and Nellie were both waiting for her when she burst through the door. ‘You have a letter,’ Cathy cried.

Molly felt relief flood all through her. ‘Oh, thank God!’

Her relief was short-lived, however, for she saw at once that the letter was from Kevin, the address almost illegible as it had been written in pencil. The note inside had jagged edges as if it had been torn from a pad, but even so, the cryptic plea for help was clear enough: ‘Molly, come and get me. It is horrible in this place – luv Kevin.’

‘What is it?’ Nellie asked, seeing the blood drain from Molly’s face. Silently she handed the note over.

‘What does it mean?’ Cathy asked. ‘Where is he?’

Molly shrugged. ‘I have no idea. But it is even more important now for me to go over there and find out what has happened.’ She remembered the promise she had made to her young tearful brother before she left, and knew whatever the risks to herself she could afford to lose no time in going to Birmingham and finding Kevin, however long it took.

‘If anything major had occurred that meant for some reason your grandfather couldn’t look after your brother, your grandmother would have been informed as next of kin,’ Nellie said.

‘Well, she hasn’t, has she? I mean, she hasn’t said.’

‘Did she tell your mother when her own father died?’

Molly went cold. ‘But she knows how much it matters to me?’

‘Would that concern her?’ Nellie asked. ‘And she has no idea you would ever know, or at least for years, because she doesn’t know that you have been receiving letters from them.’

‘Oh God!’ Molly cried. ‘Well, have official letters come for her that you can remember?’

‘I don’t know, Molly, really I don’t. There is such a volume of mail now – more since the war began – and I couldn’t say, hand on heart, that your grandmother has received official letters or that she hasn’t. Can you remember, Cathy?’

Cathy shook her head sadly. ‘No, sorry, Molly. I haven’t a clue. Why don’t you ask her?’

‘Because I would have to explain how I know and that would bring in the letters and involve you, and I would rather not do that,’ Molly said. ‘And it would achieve nothing, because she wouldn’t tell me.’

She looked from Cathy to her mother and admitted plaintively, ‘I am scared. More scared than I have ever been in the whole of my life.’

‘I know,’ Nellie said. ‘I don’t know what you will find in Birmingham, and I wish to God you hadn’t to face it on your own, but there is no help for it. Even without that heart-rending note, you have to go. And now the die is cast, as it were, we must turn our minds to practicalities.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like your clothes, my dear.’

‘My clothes?’

‘My dear girl, you cannot arrive in Birmingham with just two dresses,’ Nellie said, drawing Molly into their living quarters as she spoke. ‘You are smaller than Cathy, so you can have her old things. Don’t worry, I have discussed it with her and she is in agreement. I have bought you some pretty underwear as well and a couple of brassieres, though I had to guess your size.’

‘Nellie, you mustn’t do this.’

‘My dear girl, all the years you have been coming to our house I have never bought you a thing,’ Nellie said. ‘Not even on your birthday and at Christmas. I have felt bad about it too, at times, though it has been deliberate, because I didn’t want to make things worse for you at the house and I was pretty certain anyway you wouldn’t be allowed to accept things from us.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ Molly said. ‘I know I wouldn’t. In fact, she would probably take them from me at the door and throw them straight into the fire.’

‘I thought as much.’

‘But you don’t have to buy me anything,’ Molly said, ‘though I am incredibly grateful.’

‘Listen to me, child dear,’ Nellie said. ‘You are going to a country in the grip of war and you do not know what you will find, or where you will lay your head tonight or maybe many nights yet to come. You may have great need of clothes. Now, about those hobnailed boots …’

‘I’m not taking them,’ Molly said. ‘I know that much. Whatever the weather I am wearing these shoes that Uncle Tom forced his mother to buy for me.’ Molly well remembered the row when, as springtime really set in, Tom had declared that Molly had to have shoes for Mass and that his mother couldn’t expect the child to go along in hobnailed boots any more.

‘You are not shaming Molly, Mammy, but yourself,’ Tom had cried. ‘And if you refuse to have her decently shod, then I will shame you further and take her to Buncrana and buy her some shoes myself and let it be known why I am having to do it.’

And so Biddy was forced to buy her shoes, but they were summer-weight sandal-type shoes.

Now Nellie said, ‘Take them with you by all means but you really need to travel in boots. ‘What good timing that Cathy grew out of her boots only a couple of weeks ago. Your feet are so slender I know they will fit you.’

‘Nellie, I …’

‘All you need now is a nice case to put it all in,’ Nellie said. ‘And I have a lovely smart one that you can have a loan of.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Molly said. ‘Thank you seems so inadequate.’

‘It’s a pleasure, my dear girl,’ Nellie said. ‘I will worry about you every minute you are away, and though you have a fair bit of money, you will in all probability have to pay for lodgings. At least if you take plenty of clothes it will be one expense spared.’

‘Nellie, you are so kind and generous,’ Molly said. She felt her eyes well up with tears. ‘I will miss you so much –’ she said brokenly – ‘miss all of you – and I am so very grateful for everything you have done for me. Thank you so very, very much.’

Cathy and Nellie were crying as much as Molly as they embraced. When Jack took her in his arms too and said, ‘Look after yourself, bonny lass,’ Molly felt such despondency her heart was like a solid lump inside her.