Home Front Girls

houses, which all seemed to be hiding at the end of long, winding driveways.
    ‘Ah, here we are,’ Dotty said a good ten minutes later. ‘This is it.’
    They set off up the drive in silence, each of them nervous as they glimpsed the size of the house they were approaching.
    ‘It’s more like a mansion than a house,’ Lucy whispered in awe.
    Lucy rang the doorbell and almost instantly Annabelle opened the door with a wide smile on her face.
    ‘Ah, so you found us then. Come on in out of the cold. Mummy is so looking forward to meeting you.’
    Lucy couldn’t help but glance enviously at their friend. It was the first time she had ever seen her out of her white blouse and black skirt, and the other girl looked lovely in a calf-length skirt in a shade of deep blue, with a very pretty lace-trimmed blouse. Her hair had been brushed till it shone like spun gold and Dotty was sure that she could have been a fashion model. She certainly had the looks and the figure.
    Annabelle helped them off with their coats as the two other girls stared shyly about.
    ‘Blimey, I reckon this entrance hallway is as big as my whole flat put together,’ Dotty quipped.
    There was a wall-to-wall patterned carpet on the floor and a huge gilt-framed mirror stood above an ornate hall table. Lovely smells of baking were issuing from a doorway further along the hall and Annabelle shooed them towards it, telling them, ‘Mummy is in the kitchen making cakes. She thought Mary might like one for after her tea. We used to have a cook but since she left we’ve discovered that Mummy is actually a very good cook.’
    When she threw open a door the two girls found themselves in the most enormous kitchen they had ever seen. Cupboards were ranged around the walls and a huge scrubbed oak table with six chairs placed about it stood in the centre of the room. On the far wall was a large oven and as the girls entered, a woman who was in the process of taking some small sponge cakes from the oven smiled at them in welcome. Once she had placed the baking tray on a rack, she ushered the visitors towards a fireplace where a blazing fire was licking up the chimney.
    ‘Now which of you is Dotty and which of you is Lucy?’ she asked pleasantly. ‘I’ve heard so much about you from Annabelle. I’ve been really looking forward to meeting you.’
    The girls introduced themselves and then the woman bent to Mary’s height and said kindly, ‘And you must be Mary?’ Her eyes were gentle as she looked at the child, who stared blankly back at her. Poor little mite, Miranda thought. Annabelle had told her that Mary was ’not quite right’ as she had put it.
    ‘Well, I’m Miranda,’ she told them now as she bustled about getting cups and saucers laid out. ‘And I insist that is what you call me. Mrs Smythe is so formal, isn’t it?’
    The girls felt themselves begin to relax despite their luxurious surroundings. Miranda was so easy to talk to that she put them at their ease as she began to carry the food to the table. It turned out to be quite a feast. There were sandwiches with cucumber or meat-paste fillings and sausage rolls fresh from the oven followed by home-made fairy cakes and scones.
    ‘Now do please help yourselves,’ she urged them. ‘Otherwise Annabelle and I shall be eating this lot for the next week.’
    They were only too happy to oblige, and as the meal progressed the girls found themselves relaxing even more and talking to Miranda as if they had known her for years. Annabelle’s mother was nothing at all like they had imagined she would be. She had no airs and graces whatsoever, unlike her daughter. It was soon very obvious that Miranda had completely fallen in love with Mary and she kept encouraging the little girl with tasty titbits. In fact, Lucy became concerned that Mary was overeating and worried about her being sick, but she didn’t like to say anything. Miranda was clearly enjoying having a little one to fuss over.
    ‘Our neighbour, Mrs P, is having an Anderson shelter built in her back yard next week,’ Lucy told them when the conversation turned to the war.
    Miranda clucked and shook her head. ‘It’s perhaps for the best,’ she said. ‘You know – just in case. We’re lucky that we have a large cellar. I’ve already taken down there everything I thought we might need if there’s an air raid. Candles, blankets, pillows and that sort of thing. I’ve put some containers of water and tins of food and a tin opener