Home Front Girls

cauliflower cheese and fish cakes that Miranda had cooked for them.
    By Tuesday evening Dotty was a bag of nerves and not at all sure that she could go through with the trip, although she dreaded to think what her friends would say if she backed out now. She had gone to the station and bought a dayreturn ticket to London, Euston. It was now safely tucked away in the lovely bag that Miranda had given to her, and her outfit was hanging on the wardrobe door.
    Please, please don’t let it snow now, she prayed as she lay in bed, far too nervous to sleep. The weather had worsened over the last couple of days and snow had been forecast. Now she could only hope that it would hold off until she got to London.
    Miss Timms had been to see her earlier in the evening to wish her luck and Dotty was concerned about her. The woman had looked tired and pale, and when Dotty had enquired if she was all right she had told her, ‘Oh, I’m quite all right, my dear. Just a little tired, that’s all. Mother is very unwell so I’ve had to give up my job at the bank to care for her as she’s bed-bound now.’ She had sighed regretfully then and confided, ‘I’m afraid Mother isn’t an easy woman to live with, especially now that she can’t get about. She raps on the ceiling for me every ten seconds with her walking stick and I seem to be constantly running up and down the stairs. At least, that’s how it feels. But that’s enough about me. I shan’t be able to stay long but I couldn’t let you go off without wishing you luck. Do be careful, my dear. You hear such terrible tales about things that happen to young women travelling alone. I wish I was coming with you.’
    ‘Annabelle’s mother offered to come with me, but I feel that this is something I should do on my own and I shall be fine,’ Dotty assured her with a confidence she was far from feeling. She had planned everything down to the smallest detail. The only thing she couldn’t control was the weather and that was in God’s hands now.

Chapter Thirteen
     
    ‘I wonder if Dotty got off all right?’ Lucy said as she and Annabelle hung their coats up in the staff cloakroom the next morning.
    Annabelle shrugged. She wasn’t in the best of moods today and had found it hard to get out of bed. Most times now she accepted that she needed to work, but at other times, like today, she still felt that the job was far beneath her and resented the fact that she had to turn in.
    ‘I have no doubt she’ll get there, but I’m not so sure she’ll get back if the snow doesn’t hold off,’ she commented as she straightened the seam in her stockings. They were getting harder and harder to acquire now, which was worrying for Annabelle; there was no way she would ever wear the thick lisle ones that most of the other shop girls favoured. Things were very fraught at home too. She and her mother had received a letter from her father the day before telling them that he was in Dunkirk, and Miranda had hardly stopped crying since.
    ‘What shall we do if anything happens to him?’ her mother had sobbed and Annabelle had felt useless, with no idea how to comfort her. It seemed a million years ago now since she had lived a life of leisure, but if what the newspapers were reporting was true, there was worse to come – much worse. Hitler’s army was creeping closer and there was nothing that anyone could do about it.
    ‘Come along, girls, to your departments now. It wouldn’t do to keep the customers waiting, now would it?’ Mrs Broadstairs had appeared in the doorway and when she clapped her hands the girls scattered like flies.
    Annabelle followed at a more leisurely pace, grinning at Mrs Broadstairs cheekily as she passed her. The woman tutted. She was too full of herself by half, that one, but then she was forced to admit that she was a good worker – when she was in the mood, that was!
     
    Meanwhile Dotty was staring from the window of the train as the fields zipped by. Her stomach was in knots and she was terrified at the thought of the meeting ahead. She had spent a whole hour getting ready that morning and done her make-up just as Annabelle had shown her, so at least she knew she looked her best, which was something. But she was under no illusions. Even now she was painfully aware that she wasn’t a pretty girl, not like Annabelle, who could turn heads wherever she went.
    She had remarked on this to Miss Timms and the woman had patted her hand gently. ‘Beauty is in the