The dover cafe at war, p.30
The Dover Cafe at War, page 30
The other women paused in what they were doing, while Edie, who had been pouring more tea, dropped the cup she was holding under the urn, not caring as the hot liquid scalded her legs, and ran to join her sister.
Marianne grabbed Donny’s shoulders. ‘Is there news? Tell me quickly!’
Beside Donny, Freddie was hopping from foot to foot in agitation and looked to be bursting with news. ‘It’s my dad,’ he burst out. ‘He needs Auntie Reenie!’
‘What?’
Freddie didn’t reply; he’d spotted Reenie and raced over to her.
Reenie looked up in surprise when she saw her nephew. ‘Fred? Has something happened?’
‘My dad says to come home straightaway cos he needs you to drive him to his boat.’
‘What?’
‘He’s going over to France to rescue the soldiers!’ Freddie’s voice rose with excitement.
Some of the soldiers around them looked at the boy in astonishment.
‘What’s he got? A bloody tanker? Don’t see how he’ll make much difference otherwise!’
‘Is this some sort of joke, Fred?’ Reenie gave him a stern look.
‘It’s not, I promise. They said anyone with a boat to please help. So he’s going to go and fetch them back.’
Looking bemused and uncertain, Reenie stared at the other women.
‘You get on, love,’ Mavis said. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow.’
Donny was jumping up and down while Fred caught hold of his aunt’s hand and pulled. ‘Come on! We’ve got to go NOW!’
‘All right, then! Come on,’ she said urgently. And together the three of them pushed their way through the soldiers.
The people standing at the table – soldiers and women alike – stared after them. Some of the men were shaking their heads.
‘I didn’t like to say it, what with the lad just there, but Dunkirk’s no place for fishermen and pleasure boats. Jesus wept.’
One of his comrades broke in, looking at his friend meaningfully. ‘But they’ll be all right, won’t they, Pat? Nazis aren’t interested in bombing a few little fishing boats.’
The other man was rubbing at his eyes, as if trying to erase the images. Looking down, he nodded. ‘Course, they’ll be fine.’ He took a cup of tea and a bun and left the table without another word.
Marianne looked around at the other women, and she knew they were all thinking the same. If things were so desperate that they were sending out fishing boats, what chance did anyone have?
Nellie practically fell into the café, making the bell tinkle wildly. It was nearly midday and she had been at the Eastern Docks since three a.m., serving tea while also searching the faces endlessly for a sight of her boys, but without success.
The strain of not knowing where they were was wearing on her. She knew she was being irritable and unreasonable, but she couldn’t stop herself. She just needed to know they were safe.
‘Nellie! You look like you’re about to faint. Sit down for gawd’s sake and I’ll bring you a brew,’ Gladys said anxiously, putting an arm around her friend’s shoulder.
Nellie didn’t protest and plonked down on the nearest chair. The table was occupied by a couple of soldiers, both of whom were sitting slumped over their tea, cigarettes burning unnoticed between their fingers. The ash from one was about to drop on to the table. Ordinarily, she’d have given the man a sharp rebuke, but she was too tired. Instead, she watched fascinated as the column of ash started to droop, hovered for a moment, then fell to the table, lying there like a sinister grey caterpillar. She shuddered.
‘We got ashtrays, you know,’ she said mildly.
The man looked up. His jaw was covered with stubble and his eyes were dark and haunted. At his hairline she noticed a nasty cut, which, though it had now scabbed, had left a trail of dried blood running down his cheek.
‘Sorry, missus,’ he said, swiping the ash on to the floor with his sleeve.
She chose not to comment on that. ‘You made it,’ she said. ‘Shouldn’t you be on your way?’
‘We’ll be leaving as soon as,’ the other man replied. She assumed his hair was dark, though he was so filthy and unkempt it was hard to tell. ‘Frank here just needed a sit down out of the crowds for a moment.’
‘What regiment you with?’
‘Second Battalion, Hampshire,’ the man replied listlessly.
‘Don’t suppose you know anything about the Fifth Buffs?’
The man shook his head. ‘Don’t know anything about anything anymore.’ He kept his eyes on the table, but the hand holding the cigarette started to shake.
The knot in Nellie’s stomach, which had lodged there as soon as she understood what was happening in France, tightened. She’d seen men in this state far too often in her life, not least her own husband.
‘You should get off to your homes, lads,’ she said gently. ‘Your mums’ll be frantic with worry. And your wives.’
The dark-haired man nodded. ‘Just as soon as Frank’s able, we’ll move. Sorry if we’re taking up space.’ He looked at the smear of ash on the table. ‘And making a mess.’
Nellie shook her head. ‘Easily cleaned. You take as long as you need. In fact, if you want a lie-down, I got beds upstairs?’
‘Sleep . . .’ the injured man said dreamily. ‘I’d like to sleep.’ He sounded like a small boy.
She stood up decisively. ‘Follow me, I’ll take you up.’
The men rose silently and followed her through the kitchen, where she paused briefly. ‘I’ll make myself some tea upstairs, Glad. These two need a lie-down and so do I.’
Gladys looked at the men and nodded sympathetically. ‘You all right, Nell?’
‘Just tired. I’ll be right as rain after forty winks. Thanks for looking after the place for me.’
‘Tsk, as if I’d leave you in the lurch. Go on up and I’ll see you later.’
The men followed Nellie up the two flights of stairs and she opened the door of the boys’ room and looked sadly at the empty beds. She would give anything, anything, to be directing her own two boys up here. Filthy, smelly, injured . . . she didn’t care. She just wanted them here.
‘Here you go, lads. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you want a quick wash. Sleep as long as you need.’
The two men fell on to the beds and closed their eyes. ‘Thanks,’ the dark-haired man whispered.
‘You’re welcome, loves. See you later.’
She tiptoed away and stood outside the door for a long while, before sighing and making for the stairs. She’d gone only a few steps when she stopped as a tidal wave of grief crashed over her and, slumping down, she leant her head on the wall, her shoulders shaking. Putting her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise, she sobbed, just as she had when her husband had returned from war, so changed she barely recognised him. Her tears had been shed in private then too. But this was worse. The thought of losing one of her sons . . . She couldn’t stop the wail that came out of her mouth, and the noise kept on coming, though she stuffed her fist in her mouth and bit down hard in an attempt to distract herself from the pain in her heart.
Chapter 33
‘Lily, come here a moment, will you?’ Sister Sally Murphy called as she stood by a bed assessing a soldier’s leg. It was clearly broken, and the poor man was doing his best to stifle his cries as Sally probed it gently.
‘You’ll need this set by a surgeon, I’m afraid. I’ll get you some painkillers to take the edge off until you can go into surgery.’ She wrote on the clipboard that was lying on the bed, then glanced up at Lily. ‘Get him some aspirin and let Matron know he needs surgery.’ She glanced at the watch pinned to her chest. ‘You’ve been working for hours now, isn’t it time you had a break?’
‘I’m fine,’ Lily said. She was too full of adrenaline to even consider resting.
‘Well, once you’ve given this poor man his pills, I’m ordering you to take a break.’
Lily nodded and went in search of the painkillers. When she returned, she poured a cup of water and for the first time looked at the man in the bed properly. Her breath caught.
‘Stan?’ she said.
The man opened his eyes and tried to sit up, then winced and fell back panting, the sweat standing out on his brow.
‘Lie still, Stan. Here.’ She put the cup of water on the locker beside the bed and placed a strong arm around his shoulders. Lifting him gently, she said, ‘Open up.’
He opened his mouth obediently and she popped the two aspirin into his mouth, then grabbing the cup, she held it to his lips as he took a gulp, grimacing at the bitter taste of the pills.
‘There. You’ll be all right, though that leg’s a bit of a sight. Does Daisy know you’re here?’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t think anyone’s had a chance to tell her yet.’ He looked up at Lily anxiously. ‘Is she all right?’
‘Of course she is. But this’ll perk her up no end.’
Stan smiled with relief. ‘Can you let her know I’m safe? I want to see her.’
‘I’ll do it soon as I’m finished here.’ She laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you! But . . . you didn’t see anything of Jim, Bert and Colin, did you?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘It’s chaos,’ he said and closed his eyes. ‘Bloody awful.’
Lily took his hand. ‘All right, Stan. Rest now and I’ll let Daisy know. She’ll be with you before you know it.’
He smiled. ‘Thanks, love. If I could just see her . . . just see her beautiful face.’
‘I know. Leave it with me.’
She turned from the bed and went swiftly over to the sister. ‘I think I’ll head off now, if you don’t mind. That man is the husband of a friend of mine and I want to let her know he’s safe.’
Sister smiled. ‘Good! Go home, get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow. You’ve done well, Lily.’
She grinned and turned, rushing through the ward towards the door.
Running as fast as she could, stopping only every so often to catch her breath, Lily reached Eastbrook Place. Leaning on the wall, she tried to compose herself before she went in. Finally, as her breathing slowed, she pushed open the door and looked around the room. A group of women was gathered by the wall on the far side. Suddenly a scream ripped through the room, reverberating off the walls, and Lily jumped.
‘Daisy?’ she shouted in alarm, running over to the women.
The group parted and Lily gasped at the sight of Daisy lying on a pile of blankets, her skirt hiked up above her thighs. One woman was sitting at her head, holding her hand, shouting encouragement.
‘That’s it, girl. Push now!’
Lily knelt down. ‘Daisy! Oh my God, the baby’s coming! But this is wonderful!’
Daisy looked up at her wildly and gave a bark of laughter. ‘It . . . doesn’t . . . feel . . . wonderful.’ She fell back.
Another woman rushed in carrying a kettle full of hot water and a bowl.
‘Hurry up, Sonia,’ the woman sitting by Daisy’s head shouted. ‘Not long now, I reckon.’
‘All right, all right, Vera. I’m here.’ She hastily put the bowl and kettle on the floor and knelt between Daisy’s legs.
‘I want Stan,’ Daisy wailed. ‘Where’s Stan?’ The wail quickly became another scream as she succumbed again to the relentless contractions.
‘Listen to me, Daisy. I’ve been at the hospital and—’
‘Stan! He’s dead, isn’t he? Tell me he’s not dead.’ She was sobbing now.
‘No! He’s fine! I saw him and he’s just got a broken leg. He’s going to be fine, I promise.’
Around them, the women broke into a buzz of excited chatter, but Daisy couldn’t take it in. Instead, she pulled her knees to her chest and started to groan.
Suddenly Sonia shouted, ‘Hells bells, there’s only a head!’
‘Well, what did you expect? A blinking elephant?!’ Vera muttered.
Lily laughed as poor Daisy alone carried on her battle.
‘Pant for me, Dais. Small breaths. That’s it. That’s it. It’s nearly here,’ Sonia said.
Daisy fell back against Vera, who had moved behind her to support her back. She looked at Lily. ‘What did you say?’
‘Stan’s fine. He’s waiting for you!’
Daisy started to cry, then once again her tears turned into a long, deep moan as she concentrated on pushing.
Lily knelt beside Sonia and looked on in fascination. She’d never seen a baby being born before and she was eager to see how it was done. Half an hour later, Sonia shouted, ‘Here it is!’ as a slippery little body slid into her hands. Daisy fell back against Vera again and closed her eyes, while Lily burst into tears.
‘It’s a little girl!’ she shouted. ‘Looks like she’s got your blonde hair.’
At that moment, the baby started to yell, and Sonia hastily cut the cord, wrapped her in a clean towel and handed her to Daisy, who grabbed the baby and stared down at her pink, angry face.
‘Oh, she’s perfect!’ she breathed. ‘Just like a little flower.’
Vera hugged Daisy to her chest, gazing down over her shoulder. ‘She is that,’ she said softly. ‘What you going to call her?’
Daisy didn’t seem to hear the question; she was too busy stroking her daughter’s cheek and examining the tiny little starfish hands that were opening and shutting in agitation.
‘Put her to the breast, girl,’ Sonia said, unbuttoning Daisy’s dress and pulling her bodice down. ‘She needs a bit of food after all that work.’
Soon the cries stopped as the little mouth clamped on to her mother’s nipple. Daisy looked up at Lily then, as if suddenly remembering what she’d said. ‘Did you say something about Stan?’ she said eagerly.
Lily’s face was damp with tears, but she grinned widely. ‘Stan’s waiting for you, Dais. He needs an operation, but he’ll live. He sends his love.’
It was too much, and as her baby suckled, Daisy’s body was suddenly wracked with sobs. ‘I’m . . . I’m sorry,’ she said after a while. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying when I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.’
‘We’re all crying, love.’ Vera wiped away a tear. ‘What a day this is!’
Daisy groaned then and Sonia knelt again between her legs. ‘That’s it, love. Just a few more pushes, then we can clean you up and get you tucked up in your own bed.’
Daisy didn’t seem to notice as the afterbirth slipped from her. Instead, she looked down at her precious baby. ‘You’ll meet your daddy soon, my sweet darling. Very soon.’ She leant her head back on Vera and closed her eyes.
Chapter 34
2 June 1940
The news of Daisy’s baby and Stan’s safe return lifted spirits in the café the following morning, but nothing could completely disperse the cloud of worry that hung over the Castle women.
After lunch, Marianne made her way back to the docks. Lily had returned to the hospital and Nellie had decided to stay at the café – she wanted to be there in case the boys came home – but Marianne could see the strain she was under and knew her mother just couldn’t take any more. Nellie was rarely quiet, but she had hardly said a word that day, not even when Gladys had dropped a tray full of plates. Instead she’d quietly got the mop and broom and helped her clear them up. Marianne had never thought she’d say it, but she wanted the old, blustering Nellie they all knew and loved back. Because if her mother lost her fighting spirit, what hope did the rest of them have?
Marianne’s heart sank when she arrived at the feeding station to find the table manned not only by the usual crew, but also Elspeth Fanshawe, returning for the first time since their meeting a few days before.
Lucinda Tilbury, the mayor’s wife, greeted her happily. ‘Thank God you’re here. We’re overrun. Elspeth, love, will you and Marianne do the platform runs? There are so many men!’ She looked around despairingly. ‘How on earth are we ever going to get to them all?’
The station was crammed full of soldiers and the noise was deafening. According to the news, so far over 200,000 soldiers had been evacuated from France and it felt to Marianne as if they’d all passed through Dover. It was nothing short of a miracle, but why, among so many thousands of men, had her own brothers not returned? Alfie’s face floated into her mind and she shut her eyes in despair at the thought that a man so full of life and laughter might not be returning to them.
‘Chop chop, Marianne. No time for daydreaming when so many men need us.’
Marianne sighed. Elspeth made her feel horribly frumpy and inadequate. Today she was in another smart summer dress, with a little cardigan thrown stylishly over her shoulders, and high wedged sandals. Taking up a heavy jug of tea, Marianne followed obediently behind the other woman, who, of course, had chosen to take the buns and cups. Much easier and less messy.
As they walked back to the feeding station for a refill, Elspeth said, ‘I hear your brothers are still missing. You must be terribly worried.’
Marianne couldn’t tell from Elspeth’s tone whether she meant what she said, so she didn’t reply.
‘And your brothers are . . . ? Privates? Corporals? Well, no matter. No doubt they’re doing their best.’
Marianne took a deep breath, refusing to rise to the bait. Reminding herself again that the woman had every reason to hate her.
When it was time for a break, Marianne gratefully made her way out of the station for some air. Elspeth followed her and leant against the wall, reaching into her bag to bring out a gold cigarette case. She fitted a cigarette into a long holder and stood against the wall, smoking elegantly, her face raised to the sky. There were several wolf whistles from the men, which she acknowledged with a flirtatious smile, but other than that she didn’t say a word.
Marianne slumped down onto the ground, leaning her back against the wall. She wished the woman hadn’t followed her, but seeing as she had, she felt she should say something.
