Please write soon, and tell me all the news from home. Don’t leave out a single detail, no matter how trivial. Do you know yet when you’re to be drafted, and where to? What news of Captain Parry’s discharge? Is your sister married? How do Topsy and Teddy’s wedding plans go? Has my brother found a new reporter? How are Norman and Jemima getting along in married life? What of the dogs, and Boxer? I want to know everything that’s happening, whether human, horse, dog or goose, and feel closer to you all there. It can feel like my old life in Silverdale was all a dream sometimes, until your letters arrive to make it real for me again.
I suppose I had better sign off, before this letter becomes as long as a novel. I know such frivolous waste of paper would make Reggie cry. I love you very much, darling. Don’t forget me.
All my best love,
Charlie x
It was such a different sort of letter from the buoyant, teasing ones he had once sent her. Bobby smiled as she read, and yet tears slid down her cheeks. The story of the crew lost over the Channel made her stomach churn with familiar dread.
Six young men, wiped out just like that. All with people who loved them, and with hopes and plans for the future. Somewhere a girl who had been excited for her wedding day was sobbing over her broken dreams. A baby would grow up never knowing her father. It all seemed so futile. Such a waste.
And it could be Charlie. Every time Bobby read a death notice or heard of someone being killed in action, that was the first thought in her mind:It could be Charlie. He had only been flying ops for a couple of weeks, but already her nerves were frayed to breaking point. How did other women cope? It was hell.
And soon she, too, would be a part of it. The war machine. The death machine. Before, Bobby had thought only about duty – how important it was that good triumphed over evil, at the last – but now she thought of the lives lost. In freeing up men to join the fight, some of the death being doled out to Allies and Axis alike would be on her hands. Casualties might be necessary for the war to be won, but knowing that didn’t banish the images of children without fathers and women grieving for the men they had loved, did it? When you were raised as a girl it was with the understanding that your ultimate role would be to give life – to nurture it. The idea she could be responsible for taking it went against every value that had ever been instilled in her. Bobby wondered if she would ever be able to have a settled night’s sleep again.
Bobby’s eyes were dry and sore when she sat down in front of the mirror to get ready for work, and her skin an unhealthy shade of grey from the restless night she had passed. She did what she could with rouge and powder, but still, she knew she looked a fright.
Mary noticed this right away, of course. Rob and Lilian were in the midst of eating breakfast when Bobby entered the kitchen, while Florence and Jessie had just finished.
‘You all right, love?’ Mary asked, frowning. ‘You look like you might be coming down with something.’
Bobby summoned a smile. ‘Just a bad night’s sleep. Sorry, Mary, I ought to have come down sooner to help with the breakfast. Everything seems to be an effort today.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve had the other Miss Bancroft helping me – or Mrs Scott, I should say, shouldn’t I?’ Mary smiled at Lilian, who, in contrast with her sister, had a healthful glow about her this morning. A night spent away from the snores of Tony’s brother in a room to themselves had clearly done her good.
‘Oh gosh, that sounds strange,’ Lilian said, laughing. ‘It’s going to take time to get used to a new name.’
‘Florrie, Jess, upstairs and get ready for school,’ Mary ordered. ‘Make some space at the table.’
‘Oh, but may we show Lilian our banana first?’ Florrie asked.
‘School clothes on and hair brushed before you do that. Then you may show it.’
Lilian raised an eyebrow at Bobby as the girls ran out. ‘A banana?’
Bobby laughed. ‘I wouldn’t get too excited. It’s the least appetising-looking thing I’ve ever seen, although quite the novelty in the playground, apparently. I don’t suppose their schoolmates will remember ever having seen one before.’ She took a seat, sniffing the air, which carried the delicious scent of frying fish. ‘What’s for breakfast, Mary?’
‘We’ve a treat this morning,’ Mary said, putting a plate down in front of her. ‘I saved up our points to get two tins of kippers. Make the most of it.’
Bobby was hungry after being awake most of the night, and tucked in with relish.
‘Where’s Tony?’ she asked her sister between mouthfuls.
Lilian jerked her head towards the parlour. ‘With Reg at his desk.’
‘An interview? I didn’t realise it was to be anything so formal.’
‘I presume so. They both seemed keen to get it done as soon as they’d wolfed down their kippers.’
‘I hope you didn’t keep him out too late at the pub, Dad,’ Bobby said to her father.
‘Nay,’ Rob said. ‘Two pints each and a smoke, that’s all.’
‘How did it go?’
Rob shrugged. ‘All right. Got chatting to Pete. Reckons he’ll have some off-ration offal to flog next week – oxtail and sheep’s brain. Legal, not black market.’
‘We’d get a good stew out of that,’ Mary said. ‘Although I’d never give much credence to owt that old crook says about it not being fiddled. Still, bring us some back if you can, Rob. I’ll do mash and dock pudding with it.’
