Chapter 23 #2
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.’
‘I meant, how did it go with Tony?’ Bobby asked her dad. ‘Did you have a nice chat?’
‘Not bad.’
Bobby gave up, realising this was all she was going to get out of him.
Instead she turned to Lilian, who nodded slightly to let her know that all had been well when the two men had come in.
It didn’t sound as though they were exactly bosom pals, but nor did it sound as if there had been a row of any kind, which was reassuring.
Bobby wondered how her dad was feeling about the idea of sharing a home with his daughter and her husband now.
She had tentatively raised the topic a couple of times, but had struggled to get him to engage.
Nevertheless, she had endeavoured to make him understand that while it might not have been his first choice, the alternatives would be even less preferable – he never could stand to live with a stranger, and leaving him alone wasn’t an option.
Was the idea more palatable, now he and Tony had called a shaky truce over their peace-making pints?
As soon as Bobby heard Tony emerge from the parlour, she swallowed the last mouthful of her breakfast and jumped up.
Mary blinked. ‘You’re keen to start work this morning.’
‘Sorry. Things to get finished.’
Bobby darted out into the hall. She was too late to catch Tony, however, who had left by the side door, so she went into the parlour and sat down at her desk.
‘Morning,’ she said to Reg.
‘Aye, morning,’ he muttered, not looking up. Bobby tried to guess from his tone whether her new brother-in-law had found favour in the editor’s eyes, but as usual Reg was giving nothing away.
Bobby took her time arranging the notes she had made for a story on wild flowers. She made a show of scribbling down a few facts from a reference book before nonchalantly observing to Reg, ‘I hear you had Tony in.’
‘Best to get it out the way.’
‘What did you think of his portfolio?’
‘His writing could be a lot sparer, but he’s learnt a bit about what makes a good story. Knows how to train up a newspaperman, does Don Sykes.’ He looked up at her sharply. ‘None of that was yours, was it? I know you wrote under his byline when you worked on the paper.’
‘I doubt it. The only bits he ever asked me to write were about cake sales and things.’
‘Huh. The stuff he showed me was wall-to-wall murders.’
‘That’ll be Tony. He likes the juicy pieces.’
‘Not much juicy around here,’ Reg said absently, skimming a document in his hand. Bobby wondered if it was Tony’s letter of application. ‘Nobbut old traditions, flowers and wildlife. He’ll be bored to tears in a week.’
‘He will be?’ Bobby sat up straighter. ‘You mean you’re going to give him the job?’
He looked up at her. ‘Your sister in the family way, is she?’
Reg was bluff in most matters but not generally about those that concerned women, and Bobby was caught off-guard by the directness of the question.
‘Um, that really isn’t for me to say.’
‘Don’t matter. I’ve got my own eyes to see.’ Reg glanced at the letter in his hand. ‘Where’s he planning to take her if he can’t get work?’
‘Liverpool,’ Bobby said quietly. ‘He thinks one of the shipyards would take him on. He’d be dragging her right to where the heaviest bombing is.’
Reg stared at the letter for a while longer, then sighed.
‘Well, I’ll give him a chance,’ he said. ‘Same terms as I gave you: a quid a week, residence at the cow house and a month’s trial to convince me he can do the job. I hope he don’t make me regret it.’
Bobby beamed. ‘Oh, thank you! Reg, you’re an absolute saint. Really. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’
Reg flushed at this fulsome praise. ‘All right, let’s not get carried away. Go tell your sister, eh? Don’t take too long, mind. I want plenty more pieces out of you before you leave, so I’ve got summat to work with if Scott’s no good.’