Women on the Home Front: Family Saga 4-Book Collection. Annie Groves
her off sometimes for wanting to do too much. After all, she is paying me to have her lodging with us. To be honest I like having the house filled up a bit; makes it seem more like a home than there just being me and Tilly there. And they’re no trouble really. Sally, with her being a nurse, keeps her room spotless, and even Dulcie is the tidy sort. Mind you, she is prone to taking more than her fair share of the hot water, especially on Saturday when she’s getting dressed up to go out.’ Olive sighed, remembering how envious Tilly had looked when she’d watched Dulcie setting off for her evening out. ‘I dare say that if I hadn’t got the girls lodging with me I’d have been asked to take in a couple of refugees. Not that I’d have minded that, although Nancy next door to me is dead set against them.’
‘No, she’s never liked foreigners, hasn’t Nancy.’
They exchanged smiles.
‘Tilly’s got Agnes going to St John Ambulance with her, so that should keep them out of too much mischief, although I have to admit that I do worry about them being out during the blackout. I’ve got them both little torches and warned them to keep away from the pavement edge. Sally says they’ve had several injured people come into the hospital since the blackout started, because of not being able to see where there’re cars coming, with them having to have their lights covered. It’s going to get worse as well at the end of this month when the clocks go back and we stop having British Summer Time.’
‘Had to attend a nasty accident myself last night, as it happens,’ Sergeant Dawson told her. ‘A young lady had driven straight into a cyclist and killed him. She was beside herself, of course, and had to be taken to hospital for the shock.’
‘Oh, what a dreadful thing to happen, and there Mrs Morrison from Floris Street and I were both wishing that we could drive when the vicar’s wife told us that we’ve been offered the use of a small van for the WVS, but as none of us can drive we’d have to pass up on it. There’s quite a bit of competing between the WVS groups to be the best equipped and of course those groups that have drivers and transport are very much top of the heap.’ Olive laughed. ‘Now, though, after what you’ve just said I’m rather glad that I can’t drive.’
‘You mustn’t say that. In fact, if this war gets as bad as some reckon it will, the Government will be wanting women to learn to drive.’ Sergeant Dawson paused and then said hesitantly, ‘If you and Mrs Morrison were wanting to learn to drive, and since you’re saying that you’ve been offered the use of a van, I could teach you, if you like?’
‘You can drive?’
A rueful smile curled his mouth, making him look younger and far more carefree. ‘Learned almost as a kid at the back end of the last war, and once you’ve learned it’s something you never forget.’
‘Well, it’s very generous of you to offer. Of course, Mrs Morrison’s husband would have to agree.’
‘Of course, but the offer’s there if you want it.’ They had reached Article Row now but instead of handing her basket back to her when they arrived at number 1, the sergeant shook his head when Olive made to take it from him.
‘I’ll walk you to your gate with it.’
‘I’ll send you and Mrs Dawson a bowl of the casserole, as a thank you, seeing as you’ve carried the veggies home for me,’ Olive told him with a smile of her own.
He was such a kind man, offering to teach her and Mrs Morrison to drive, Olive thought five minutes later as she went into her kitchen. Mrs Windle would be pleased if he did succeed in teaching them, Olive knew. She had been quite crestfallen at the thought of having to turn down the offer of the van.
From the kitchen window she could see Sally working in the garden and she went out to her.
‘I’m just going to put the kettle on and make a cuppa before I start on the veggies for the mutton stew. Would you like a cup?’
‘I’d love one,’ Sally admitted. It hadn’t felt particularly warm when she had initially come out into the garden but now, after lifting the turf from the plot she had marked out, she was feeling very warm – and very thirsty. ‘I’m ready for a break so I’ll come back with you.’
The minute Olive opened the kitchen door, Sally could smell the wonderful aroma, sniffing appreciatively as she removed her Wellington boots and left them outside.
‘I put the stew in this morning to let it cook slowly,’ Olive told her.
‘My mother used to make a delicious stew and she always swore by cooking it slowly all day.’ A sad nostalgic smile tugged at Sally’s mouth and to her own surprise she heard herself telling Olive, ‘I had some good news today. Matron is upgrading me to the position of staff nurse and she’s recommended that I train to be a sister. I’m thrilled, of course, but I couldn’t help wishing that my mother was still alive so that I could tell her.’
Lighting the gas beneath the kettle she had just filled, Olive turned to look at her. Sally, for all her maturity, wasn’t really that much older than her own daughter and she knew how she would have felt in Sally’s mother’s shoes, so it seemed completely natural to her to go over to Sally and give her a firm hug, before telling her gently, ‘That’s what your mother would have wanted to do, I know. I’m so sorry you’ve had such sadness to contend with, Sally.’
Olive’s unexpected tenderness brought tears to Sally’s eyes. It had been so long since she had felt the warmth of a caring maternal hug.
‘Your father is still alive, though, you said,’ Olive began carefully, but immediately Sally shook her head.
‘I know what you’re going to suggest but there’s no going back. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stand in the kitchen that used to be my mother’s and watch the person who was my best friend usurping my mother’s role. They didn’t even wait a decent length of time. I don’t know how they could do what they’ve done, but I do know that I don’t want anything to do with them any more.’
Poor Sally, Olive thought compassionately. The kettle had started to boil, the steam activating its shrill whistle. As she went to make the tea, tactfully Olive changed the subject.
‘I don’t know what you think but I’m to have driving lessons. Sergeant Dawson has offered to teach me. Our WVS group have been offered the use of a van. It belongs to the Lords, from the drapers in Norfolk Street, or rather it belongs to their son, Gerry, but he’s been called up. They don’t need it because Mr Lord has his own van that he uses for the business and Mavis, Mrs Lord, flatly refuses to learn to drive so Mr Lord has offered it to the WVS.’
‘I think it’s an excellent idea,’ Sally approved immediately.
‘Of course, it won’t just be me he’s teaching,’ Olive hastened to add, pouring them each a cup of tea. ‘There’ll be two of us. Me and Mrs Morrison.’
‘It’s a great opportunity – for you and for the war effort,’ Sally enthused.
* * *
‘Mum, can I have a word with you, just between us?’ Tilly asked her mother quietly as Olive checked on the dumplings she had added to the stew earlier.
‘Of course you can, love. Why don’t you go upstairs to my room and I’ll follow you up there in a tick?’ Olive told her daughter just as quietly.
With the wireless on and Dulcie complaining about the difficult customer she’d had in who’d insisted that Dulcie had sold her a shade of lipstick that didn’t suit her and that she wanted to change, Olive knew that the others wouldn’t have overheard, although what it was that her daughter wanted to discuss, she had no idea.
Wiping her hands on her apron, Olive went up and found her daughter, standing in front of the window in Olive’s own bedroom.
Sitting down on the edge of her bed, automatically smoothing the soft, slightly faded blue satin coverlet, she patted it and invited ‘Come and sit down here, Tilly. Is something wrong?’
When Tilly shook her