Chapter 25
When they got to the factory they had to take off their everyday, ‘dirty’ clothes and change into ‘clean’ clothes, differentiated from each other by their shift colour, all of them looking the same in their overalls with turbans on their heads and rubber boots on their feet, as if they’d been churned out themselves by the machinery around them.
Enid was the exception. She was tall and slim and she looked good in overalls and she suited a turban with her small, lovely face.
‘You know, this is the best time of my life,’ she said to Cora one day when they found themselves on the same shift.
Cora laughed. ‘You must have had a terrible life then,’ she said.
‘It’s nice not having to ask Temperance for things. He’s careful with money and he expects me to be, too. The longer the war lasts the better, as far as I’m concerned.’
‘You don’t mean that,’ Cora said. ‘Temperance is all right.’
‘I know he is. It’s just that I never imagined marrying a man like him. I imagined falling in love with a good-looking man who would light my cigarette for me without being asked, and take me dancing.’ She smiled. ‘A man like Tyrone Power.’
‘You don’t want much, do you,’ Cora said, because she’d fallen in love with Tyrone Power, too, after seeing him in The Mark of Zorro in the Empire.
‘How about you? Who is your ideal man?’
Cora thought of Frank and said, ‘Tyrone Power, of course.’
Enid laughed. ‘You can have Tyrone Power, and I’ll have Les Pugh.’
In the factory she could feel the men’s eyes on her, admiring and appraising. And she liked it, knowing that there was no harm in it. Innocent fun, it was and everyone knew it.
At least it was innocent until Les turned up.
Dew, he was a good-looking man in his white overalls, with hair as red as hers, and from the start he’d made a beeline for her, as if they were already made for each other.
Cora saw him looking at Enid’s hands for a wedding ring as she worked.
Most women taped theirs up, to save the metal causing a spark, but Enid had decided to take her wedding ring off for work.
Seeing she wasn’t wearing one, his eyes had locked on hers, bright green and open and expectant, as if she was the surprise that he had been waiting for all his life.
She hadn’t encouraged him, cross her heart and hope to die, she truly hadn’t. Even Cora could vouch for that.
Cora caught them in the washroom.
Enid looked startled to see her. ‘Hello,’ she said, looking quickly towards the cubicles.
Les strolled out from hiding, his hair shining red. He seemed to pause mid-step, like a fox catching a scent of prey. ‘Hello, Cora.’ Lipstick smudged his mouth.
‘What are you doing in here?’ she asked him, her voice high pitched with surprise.
‘No harm done,’ he said, stepping towards Enid. ‘If it had been anything funny we would have gone into a cubicle to do it, that would be the sensible thing to do. But we had no reason to because we weren’t doing anything wrong. Hush yourself,’ he said, and he winked at her. ‘It’s innocent enough.’
Cora had been desperate to go to the toilet but now, with him in here, she didn’t feel she could go, it didn’t seem right. She looked from him to Enid.
Enid had this look on her face, imploring like. ‘You understand, don’t you, Cora?’ she asked softly. She smiled and pressed herself up against Les as if she was moulding her body into the shape of him.
‘What she means is,’ Les said, pushing her away, ‘I had some contraband hair grips to give her that she didn’t realise were still in her hair when the searchers came to check.’ He shuffled his fingers in his pockets and pulled a couple of hair grips out. ‘See? Told you.’
Looking from one to the other, Cora said, ‘Well, you can give them to her now, can’t you.’
Her heart was pounding as if she’d been running but she wasn’t the one in the wrong. ‘Anyone could have come in here. You’re lucky it was me.’
‘A bit holier than thou, aren’t you?’ Les said, looking amused.
‘She’s not really,’ Enid said, letting him go and turning to the mirror again. She licked her finger and smoothed her eyebrow flat. ‘She’s got a passion of her own, or so I’ve heard.’ She turned her face towards Cora and smiled sweetly.
Les grinned. ‘Nice one, Niddy.’
Niddy, Cora thought in astonishment. He calls her Niddy.
For some reason that was more intimate than hiding her hair grips.
She didn’t think about it long because by now her bladder was just about bursting.
To hell with Les. She went into the cubicle, slammed the door and sat down heavily on the wooden toilet seat, closed in by the thin, scuffed walls.
She saw Les’s shadow creep past the door.
When she came out, Enid was leaning against the washbasin.
‘Nothing fishy about it, honest, swear to God. It’s true. Les really was giving me back some contraband hair grips that he’d kept for me.’
Cora’s silence in the echoing washroom with the familiar smell of carbolic soap sounded like a shriek.
Enid began repairing her smudged lipstick. For a moment their eyes met.
‘It’s nothing, Cora, it’s only a bit of fun, that’s all,’ she said. ‘Same as you.’
The carbolic soap was cracked and hard as a pebble. Cora gave up on it and held her hands cupped under the flow of water. ‘Same as me?’
‘You know what I mean.’ Enid gave a sly smile. ‘I’ve seen you looking out for your German as we pass the camp. I know who he is, he’s the one out there digging in all weathers. I’m not judging. It gets us through the day, doesn’t it? I’ll keep quiet if you do.’
‘It’s none of my business whether you keep quiet or not,’ Cora replied, holding her hands under the tap and trying again to get a lather out of the hard soap. ‘It’s up to your conscience, not mine.’
‘High and mighty!’ Enid fell quiet. ‘You’ve no idea what Temperance is like.’
‘I’ve got a pretty good idea. I’ve known him a lot longer than you have, Enid, and he might be boisterous but he’s a decent man at heart so don’t blame him for your actions. Leave Les alone, can’t you?’ she said irritably.
‘Tell him to leave me alone,’ Enid said with her chin in the air.
‘I can’t help how he feels, can I?’ She was full of excitement because he had kissed her and she wanted to talk about it, but she turned back to look at herself and pressed her palms against her cheeks, framing her pretty face.
‘I’m getting a transfer to the detonators section.
I don’t want my face going yellow. I don’t know how you can stand it, looking in the mirror and seeing yourself like that, I really don’t. ’
‘Dets?’ Cora looked at her in surprise. ‘You know they call it the Suicide Club, don’t you?’
Enid looked smug. ‘I’ve been given permission to. The powder is no good for me, it’s irritating my skin.’ She pushed her sleeve up and showed Cora her yellow wrist. It was mottled with nettle rash. ‘See?’
‘Let me have a look.’ Cora took her arm and looked closely at it. ‘You want to stop scratching, for a start,’ she said.
‘I can’t help it, can I? I’m sensitive, I always have been.’
Cora let Enid’s arm go. ‘This wouldn’t have anything to do with Les, would it?’
‘It’s just a bit of fun, that’s all.’
‘Not for his wife, it isn’t,’ Cora pointed out.
‘She doesn’t have to know.’
‘No, but she will though, won’t she?’
Enid turned, the anger flaring up in her. ‘You sound just like Temperance,’ she said, annoyed. ‘I’m not a fool, Cora, and I wish you’d keep your nose out of my business.’
Cora flushed. ‘Does he know you’re going to the dets section?’
‘I’m going to tell him tonight. I don’t think he’ll care one way or the other, truth be told. Keep quiet about Les though, will you?’ She gave Cora a sweet, insincere smile. ‘And if you do, I’ll keep quiet about you. Got that? See you later.’
Cora held out her hands under the cold tap, willing herself to steady before she left the cloakroom and started working on the shells again.
She felt as if she was shaking all over.
She was insulted by Enid’s threat, because she wouldn’t in any case tell.
Who was she supposed to tell? She didn’t even want to think about Enid and Les, far less talk about them.
But the comment about the German prisoner bothered her.
The war had brought with it its own immorality.
Life wasn’t playing fair with them and they weren’t playing fair with life.
There was no point in behaving well for the sake of the family’s good name when they could be blasted out of existence at any moment.
It was better to die having lived a full life. That was the way to die easy.
The images of death came out of Enid’s talk of going to the dets section, like a shadow falling over them. It seemed to Cora that Enid was getting careless – in her job, in her marriage.
When she got back to her bench, her relief said accusingly, ‘You’ve been a long time.’
‘Sorry. Something I ate,’ she lied.
She was aware of Enid looking at her from her workbench and she pretended not to notice.
I’m like her. I’m getting better at deceit, she thought.