The Girls in Blue Read online

  There was a mirror over the sink but fortunately this was steamed over so she couldn’t see herself. The marks and bruises from her last beating hadn’t quite faded. She could count her ribs, her breasts were non-existent, and her arms and legs looked too thin to support her.

  She ran her fingers through her long hair to remove the tangles that always appeared after it had been washed. The brother of one of her school friends had attempted to flirt with her when she’d been staying at his house last Easter holidays. What was that he’d said? Yes – that her hair was the colour of corn and her eyes reminded him of the summer sky. Vanity was a sin but secretly she’d always been rather pleased with her crowning glory.

  She wallowed in the water until it was tepid and then stepped out. She barely had time to dress and brush her hair before someone knocked loudly. For a moment she panicked. Then she remembered she’d locked the doors.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said as she unbolted the back door to allow Mr and Mrs Jackson to come in. ‘I forgot that…’

  ‘No need to explain, my dear, we know exactly why the doors were locked. Did you have a lovely bath?’

  ‘I did, thank you, Mrs Jackson. I feel tickety-boo now. Is there anything I can do to help you prepare tea?’

  ‘We just have sandwiches, tea and cake.’

  ‘Then please let me do it whilst you read the paper.’

  ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’

  Jane had expected to toss and turn all night but was asleep the moment her head touched the pillow and didn’t wake until she heard someone going down the stairs. Today was the start of a new life. Other young women and young men would be flocking to volunteer because they wanted to do their bit for their King and Country. Her motives were purely selfish – she just wanted to get away from that man.

  2

  Mr and Mrs Jackson accompanied her to the station. She’d avoided the early morning train as that man caught it to his bank in the nearby market town.

  ‘Good luck, my dear girl, you deserve it. I don’t know when we’ll see you again, but you have our good wishes to take with you.’ The vicar patted her on the shoulder but his wife embraced her.

  ‘I’ll keep an eye on your mother – don’t worry about her. You have our telephone number and can always ring and tell us your news and I can guarantee it will be passed on to her.’

  ‘I’ll do that. Thank you for your help. I couldn’t have done this without you. I expect you’ll be busy with evacuees any day now. Your house will be overflowing with children by the end of the week.’

  ‘Poor little mites, I expect there’ll be a lot of wet sheets to wash until they settle. Take care of yourself, Jane, and keep in touch if you can.’

  The train steamed in and Jane clambered into a ladies’ only carriage. Everything seemed absolutely normal – one wouldn’t have known the country was at war from the way people were going about their business.

  There were two other ladies in the compartment who turned to look at her with disapproval. Was her hat not on straight? Were her stocking seams crooked? She straightened her shoulders and ignored them. Whatever they didn’t like about her appearance it was nothing to do with them. Then she shrunk into her seat regretting her behaviour. If she offended these women they might remember her and tell that man.

  It would have been more interesting to have had a window seat but they were both taken. From what she’d seen on her brief glance in their direction they were about mum’s age, but there the resemblance ended. Whereas Mum was tall, almost as thin as she was herself, with faded blonde hair and watery blue eyes, both of these matrons were stout, wearing tweed suits despite the weather, and sat as if they had an unpleasant smell under their noses.

  They must think they were somehow superior to her – if that was so then surely they’d be travelling in first class? The vicar had kindly given her the book she’d started and she revelled in the opportunity to read without interruption.

  An hour and a half later she was standing outside the station not entirely sure in what direction she should go to find Victory House in Westminster. A helpful policeman told her she could walk along the embankment or take an underground line called the District and Hammersmith.

  It would be better to travel on the underground as her lack of an essential piece of equipment was less likely to be noticed. She joined a long queue to purchase a ticket and then got hopelessly lost looking for the correct platform. Eventually she arrived where she should be just as a train was due. The whoosh of air as it approached, the ominous rumbling noise, was almost too much. If she hadn’t been pressed forward by those eager to get on, she would have reversed and walked along the embankment instead.

  There were no seats and people were packed in like sardines in a can. She’d never liked crowds and being crushed against complete strangers in this intimate fashion made her stomach roil. By the time she arrived her pulse was racing, her palms wet and her head was about to explode.

  She threw herself out of the doors and pushed her way through the exiting crowd in a desperate rush to reach the surface and fresh air. Did her panic mean that she was claustrophobic? Most air raid shelters were underground. She would just have to pull herself together if she was going to fit into her new life.

  When she arrived at the WAAF recruiting office she was horrified to see there was already a queue almost to Whitehall. Seeing so many eager to join was good for the country but not for her. They couldn’t possibly see everybody today.

  Two girls a bit older than her stood behind her. ‘Cor blimey, I ain’t standing around here for hours, Nancy. I got better things to do with me time,’ one of them said loudly.

  ‘Stay with us for a bit, Ruby. I ain’t keen to do this on me own,’ the one called Nancy said.

  ‘I’ll stop for an hour, then I’m off.’ The speaker, with peroxide blonde hair, bright red lips and enormous thrusting breasts, saw Jane looking at her and Jane shrunk back, expecting to be snarled at.

  ‘All right, ducks? You look a bit lost. Ain’t you got no one with yer?’ The girl was smiling.

  ‘I haven’t got anyone. Do you think they’ll get to us before the office closes?’

  ‘What’s yer name, love?’

  ‘Jane Hadley – today’s my birthday.’ Why had she blurted this out? Would they think she was asking them to sing happy birthday to her or buy her a cup of tea to celebrate?

  ‘Well I never!’ Nancy said. ‘It’s mine too. I’m nineteen – I reckon you’re younger than what I am.’

  ‘I’m eighteen. What a coincidence for us both to have the same birthday. But you didn’t answer my question, either of you: do you think we’ll have to come back tomorrow?’

  The queue shuffled forward a few feet and stopped again. ‘It closes at ten o’clock tonight so there’s eight hours to go. Depends how many they’ve got looking after things in the office,’ Ruby replied.

  ‘I can’t possibly stand in this queue for so long,’ she replied. ‘There were no facilities on the train and I couldn’t find them on the station.’

  The two Londoners exchanged a puzzled look. ‘Facilities? Oh, you mean the privy. There’s a caf we passed down a side street, not as posh as what you’d expect to get round here,’ Nancy said. ‘I’ll take you. Ruby can keep our places. You’ll do that won’t you?’

  ‘As long as you bring me back a bun or somethink. Me belly thinks me throat’s been cut.’

  ‘Can I leave my suitcase with you?’

  ‘Go on then, luv, I’ll see no bugger takes it.’

  Nancy grabbed her arm and before she knew it, she was running along the pavement – something she’d never done before. Neither of her new friends carried a gas mask so maybe she would get away with it until she could purchase another one.

  Despite her skinny build she was fit and not at all out of breath when they skidded to a halt outside the café. Nancy was pink and perspiring but was unbothered by this.

  ‘It ain’t up to much, but I reckon we’ll get p
ermission to use the bog if we buy somethink. I ain’t got a lot on me…’

  ‘I’ll treat you and Ruby this time. I don’t suppose they’ll let us take a mug of tea away but hopefully we can get her something to eat.’

  The door was propped open with a brick and the smell of frying bacon, sausages and chips wafted out onto the pavement. Her stomach rumbled loudly and her companion giggled.

  A lady, her grubby wraparound pinny barely meeting at the back, beamed when they stepped in. There was one table free; the others were occupied, mostly by smart businessmen in pinstriped suits and one or two by secretaries. ‘What can I get you? Tea, egg and chips? Only one and six including bread and butter.’

  ‘Thank you, that would be lovely. Our friend is holding our place in the queue at Victory House. Would it be possible to take a sandwich and a cake for her when we go?’

  ‘I’ve got a nice bit of greaseproof paper I can wrap it in, dearie. I’ve got a bottle of pop you can buy if you want.’ Jane nodded vigorously and the woman returned behind the counter and yelled their order to somebody the other side of the bead curtain.

  ‘Ruby will be pleased with what yer getting for her.’ When the fat lady returned Nancy called across the café. ‘My friend needs the bog. Can she use yours?’

  Jane’s face was scarlet and she tried to shrink into her chair. How could Nancy have shouted something so personal across the room? There were men in here. Now everyone knew she needed to pee.

  ‘Course she can. Come along with me, ducks, it’s out the back. It ain’t up to much but it’s clean.’

  When she returned the food had arrived. Egg and chips weren’t something she’d had before – that man didn’t allow such common food to be eaten under his roof.

  ‘It looks scrumptious. I’m absolutely starving.’

  They cleared the plates in record time and then she paid the bill. With the greaseproof paper parcel in one hand and Nancy holding the other they raced back, dodging around startled pedestrians, laughing at their shock at such unseemly behaviour.

  There were now another thirty or so hopeful young ladies behind Ruby and the queue had shuffled forward quicker than she’d expected so that the recruiting office was now in sight.

  ‘Here you are, Ruby, I hope it’s all right.’ She handed over the parcel and Nancy gave her friend the bottle of ginger beer.

  Inevitably when the marble was prised from the top the contents sprayed all three of them. Shaking a fizzy drink wasn’t a sensible thing to do.

  Eventually they stepped into the building and in turn they gave their particulars and were told to wait on the benches that had been set out down either side of the room. There was barely room for the three of them to squeeze into the space along with the dozens of other eager recruits.

  ‘I wonder how long we have to wait here and what will happen next,’ Jane whispered to her companions.

  ‘I need the bog. I’m going to look for one. Save me place, Nancy.’ Ruby was directed through a door at the far end of the huge room and although she was gone for some time no one on the benches had been called up.

  ‘There’s another room down there what’s full of girls filling in forms. I reckon that’s where we go next.’

  Eventually Jane was called over to see a recruiting officer. She was smartly dressed in her Air Force blue uniform. She explained about discipline, and said that they were looking for girls with good secretarial skills at Hendon. She then handed Jane a form and sent her into the room at the back to fill it in.

  Ruby and Nancy joined her and were frowning at their papers. ‘Would you like me to help you fill yours in? I can write neatly and very fast.’

  They spread out the three forms side-by-side and she wrote down their details using her precious fountain pen. She would have to try and buy herself a bottle of ink as it was bound to run out if there was much more form filling to do. It took far longer to complete the section about her own education than it did for them.

  Everything went swimmingly until it came to the question requiring her to put her home address. Her new friends came from Poplar, they lived next door to each other.

  ‘Why ain’t you writing down your own gaff, Jane?’ Nancy asked.

  Ruby answered for her. ‘You running away?’

  ‘I am. I can’t risk them contacting that address. I don’t know what to do. I can’t leave it blank.’

  ‘Put down my address,’ Nancy said. ‘You can stop over with us – bit of a squeeze, mind, but beggars can’t be choosers.’

  ‘You’d better keep your trap shut when we hand them in,’ Ruby said. ‘Someone posh like what you are wouldn’t live where we do.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you to offer, Nancy, but won’t we be taken on today?’

  ‘Gawd love us, I don’t reckon so. It might be weeks before them bleeders are ready for us.’

  Jane flinched every time Ruby used bad language but wouldn’t dream of saying that it offended her. ‘I’ll have to find a B&B, or a cheap hotel. I couldn’t possibly put your family out for more than a night.’ She had still not filled in the space that required a forwarding address. She came to a decision.

  ‘I’m going to tell them that I’ve yet to find myself accommodation in London and ask them if they can recommend somewhere respectable I can stay whilst I wait.’

  ‘Suit yourself then; we ain’t good enough for you obviously,’ Ruby said with a sneer. ‘Come along, Nancy, I know when we ain’t wanted.’

  The two of them marched off with their completed forms before she could explain that she hadn’t meant to infer their home wasn’t respectable. By the time she was on her feet there were three other people in the queue ahead of her. Nancy turned and waved but Ruby had a firm hold of her arm and almost dragged her from the building. She could either follow the two girls and lose her place, or stay where she was and be entirely on her own.

  She straightened her spine, pushed her shoulders back and remained in her place. When it was her turn, she handed in the form with an explanation.

  The WAAF officer nodded. ‘You are the third volunteer in the same position, Miss Hadley. I have sent them to the Sanctuary House Hotel in Tothill Street. I shall put that as your address. It might be some time before we send you your papers. Are you able to remain in London until they arrive?’

  ‘I am, ma’am. I have sufficient funds until the New Year.’

  ‘Excellent, I’m sure you will hear before that. We need your sort of girl – someone with a good education.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you for your assistance.’

  ‘You will report here tomorrow morning for the medical examination.’

  This is the first Jane had heard about this. If she had to remove her clothes the doctor would see the bruises and want to know how she’d got them. No point in worrying about it now. Her first priority was to check into the hotel.

  She had no idea where this hotel was situated. There was an attractive dark-haired girl, holding a battered suitcase, looking up and down the street as if unsure in which direction to travel.

  ‘Excuse me, are you by any chance on your way to the Sanctuary Hotel?’

  ‘I am indeed. Charlotte Fenimore at your service.’

  ‘Jane Hadley, and I’m delighted to meet you. Do you know where this Tothill Street is situated?’

  ‘Haven’t the foggiest, but I’m certain a policeman or news vendor will be able to direct us.’

  This proved to be the case and half an hour later they had secured themselves a shared room in this establishment. The fact that it was on the third floor meant it was inexpensive, which suited both of them.

  ‘The only good thing about this room is the view,’ Charlotte said as she threw up the window, letting in some welcome fresh air and large amounts of pigeon droppings. The criss-crossed brown tape put on the window had made the room dark.

  ‘I can’t imagine why they think it necessary to put that on windows on the third floor.’

  Charlotte laughed. ‘If a bomb
drops on this hotel broken glass will be the least of our worries. I suppose that we should find out how to get to the cellar.’

  ‘Do you really think Hitler will be dropping bombs on us before Christmas?’

  ‘From what I’ve read his air force is much larger and better prepared than ours. I suppose we’d better unpack our meagre belongings. You don’t have a gas mask.’

  ‘I left it behind. I’m hoping I can buy another one somewhere.’

  ‘I’m sure you can. We’ll make it our priority tomorrow morning. Have you been to London before?’

  ‘Never. There’s so much I’d like to see whilst I have the opportunity. I just hope my funds last until I become a WAAF. That reminds me, I need to find a post office too and pay in my spare cash.’

  It didn’t take long for either of them to empty their cases and arrange their toiletries. There was a sink in the room so they could wash and clean their teeth but she needed to know where the loo was.

  ‘The nearest bathroom is on the next floor – did you notice where the WC was?’

  ‘I didn’t, but the fact that there are chamber pots under the beds isn’t a good sign. I wonder if we have to empty them ourselves or if the maids do it for us.’

  Jane looked under the edge of the shiny satin bedspread and shuddered. ‘I’m not using that. However clean it looks I hate to think how many bottoms have sat on it before me. I’m going in search of the lavatory just in case I need to find it in the dark. I don’t have a dressing gown or slippers. I’ll have to get dressed if I need to find it. What about you?’

  ‘As you’ve seen, I’ve just got the minimum. We can’t keep any civilian clothes once we’re enlisted, everything’s provided.’

  They spent the remainder of the day exploring the neighbourhood. The Houses of Parliament were admired from the outside and Westminster Cathedral from the inside. When they emerged, blinking in the sunlight, Charlotte suggested that they go in search of some tea.

  ‘I know where there’s a decent café. I had lunch there earlier today. Nothing fancy, only egg and bacon and that sort of thing.’

  ‘Sounds fine to me. I don’t suppose there’ll be either egg or bacon once rationing kicks in. Better make the most of it whilst we can.’