Home Front Girls

of grief.
    ‘See what I mean?’ he muttered brokenly as his own eyes brimmed with tears. ‘She don’t even seem to know that I’m here.’
    ‘Mrs P?’ Lucy said gently, but she got no reaction whatsoever. It was only when she tried to take the telegram from the woman’s hand that she suddenly rounded on her. ‘’Ere, gerroff, will yer,’ she yelled. ‘That’s my telegram tellin’ me about me lovely lad.’
    Then slowly her eyes seemed to focus and she fell limply into Lucy’s arms as sobs shook her big body. ‘Eeh, me lovely boy’s gone.’
    ‘You don’t know that,’ Lucy said soothingly as she rocked her to and fro. ‘The telegram says that he’s missing – and unless you hear otherwise you have to hold on to that. He’s most probably alive somewhere. It doesn’t say he’s dead, does it?’
    Mrs P’s sobs subsided as she looked at Lucy hopefully. ‘Do yer really reckon that might be the case?’
    ‘Yes, I do.’ Lucy nodded firmly. ‘You must never give up hope. He might have been injured and be in a hospital somewhere, admittedly, or he might even have been taken prisoner, but either of those options are better than being told that he’s dead, aren’t they?’
    ‘Yer right,’ Mrs P said, clutching at straws. ‘An’ when they find him they’ll let me know, won’t they?’
    ‘Of course they will,’ Lucy said with an assurance she was far from feeling. ‘So it’s all the more important that you don’t give up on him, isn’t it? And now I’m going to make you and Mr P a nice strong cup of tea and I’m going to put a drop of brandy in it. Do you have any left over from Christmas?’
    ‘Aye, it’s in that cupboard over there. That’s a good idea, love,’ Mrs P said in a croaky voice. She was still badly shaken up but at least Lucy had given her a glimmer of hope. She hated to think of Freddy hurt or captured by the enemy, but anything was better than being told he was dead, and the war couldn’t go on forever, could it?
    By the time Lucy got back to her own little house she felt as if she had been wrung out like a dishcloth. She hated to see Mr and Mrs P so upset, they were such good people and they had been so kind to her and Joel and Mary. She just hoped that she had managed to make them feel a little better, but deep down she wondered if Freddy really was all right. Only time would tell now.
     
    On Thursday Robert was waiting at Euston for Dotty and when she stepped down from the train his face broke into a friendly smile.
    ‘Why, you look lovely!’ he exclaimed as he pulled her arm through his and headed in the direction of the nearest café. ‘Let’s go and have a cuppa, eh? I’ve no doubt you’ll be ready for one after your journey.’
    Her cheeks pink from the compliment, Dotty said, ‘But won’t they be waiting for us at the office?’
    ‘Ah, well, that’s the nice thing about being the boss,’ Robert told her with a wink. ‘I can come and go pretty much as I please, although to be honest I don’t think they’d really miss me if I never went in. Laura has that place running like clockwork. Between you and me, I don’t know what I’d do without her.’
    Dotty felt an unexpected stab of jealousy. It sounded as if Robert was very fond of Laura, but then she asked herself, why shouldn’t he be? Laura was a very attractive woman, and clever and efficient too, going by what he had just said.
    They were in a small café now and he sat her down at a vacant table before rushing off to the counter. She watched him through a blue haze of cigarette smoke, and was impressed at how well he could manage with just one good hand. In no time at all he was back with a thick china cup and saucer for her, and then another one for himself. He pushed the sugar bowl towards her.
    ‘Laura is really looking forward to seeing you again,’ he told Dotty. ‘She’s delighted with the stories you’ve been sending in and I’m really looking forward to having a peep at this book you’ve been writing. I know it’s not finished yet, but you did bring it with you, didn’t you?’
    She nodded as she patted her bag before saying, ‘Well, yes, I did – but I didn’t think the magazine would be interested in novels – and it really isn’t that good,’ she added hastily.
    ‘You are right – the magazine wouldn’t be interested,’ he acknowledged. ‘But being in this business, I have a lot of editor friends who might be. And as for it not being that good . . . Well,