‘Huh, I might have guessed.’
‘The satin is lovely and heavy, June,’ Molly tried to distract her. ‘It would make up a treat and look really elegant. We could always trim it up with some lace …’
‘I don’t know … I’d got me heart set on lace, Molly …’
‘’Ere, Vera, you gorra come and luk at dis satin!’ another female voice exclaimed. Immediately Molly snatched up the bolt of satin, hugging it tightly, and resolutely ignoring the look on Vera’s friend’s face.
‘’Aving that, are youse, lass,’ cos if you ain’t …’ the shopkeeper, who was keeping an eye on the proceedings, demanded.
‘Looks like we’ll have to now,’ June grumbled. ‘How much did the pattern say we needed?’
‘Fifteen yards,’ Molly told her, ‘and that includes the train.’
Once the fabric had been parcelled up, Molly and June headed for Lewis’s where they had arranged to meet the others for a cup of tea before going on to the cinema.
‘It comes to something when you can’t even buy what you want for your wedding dress,’ June complained once they had explained to the other girls what was in her parcel, and ordered their tea.
‘You gorra be grateful you got sommat,’ Irene told June forthrightly, above the sound of Sonny Durband, the resident pianist in Lewis’s restaurant.
‘What I don’t understand is why the Government’s doing all of this, like, when Mr Chamberlain ’as promised that we ain’t gonna be goin’ to war,’ Sheila protested.
‘Are you daft or what?’ Irene challenged her pithily. ‘Of course there’s going to be a blummin’ war. Why the ’eck do youse think we’re mekkin’ all them bloody uniforms? Mind, if I had me way I wouldner be workin’ at Hardings. I’d be down one of them munitions factories, like – Napiers, p’haps. Paying women two pounds fifteen shillings a week, they are, so I’ve heard,’ she informed the others in awe-struck tones, ‘and they get to have a bit o’ fun and a laugh. Not like us – not now we’ve got that bloomin’ Jenner woman spyin’ on us all the time. You two will have to watch it,’ she told June and Molly. ‘Hates your guts, she does.’ Then she added, ‘Come on, you lot, it’s time we was goin’, otherwise we’re gonna be late.’
‘Not much of a film, that, and all them Pathé newsreels got on me wick. As if we don’t have enough of that on the wireless, and with all them leaflets we keep on getting sent,’ Ruby grumbled later, when they left the cinema.
‘I thought it was interesting,’ Molly protested. ‘Especially that bit about the new National Blood Bank, and how the Government’s making sure that the hospitals have plenty of beds and bandages, and building new operating theatres.’
‘Listen to Florence Nightingale here. Next thing, she’ll be wanting to give some of her own blood,’ June grimaced.
Molly flushed but held her ground. ‘Well, I would, an’ all, if it was going to save someone else’s life,’ she retaliated stoutly, ignoring the derisory look her sister was giving her. Molly felt so passionately about ‘doing her bit’ and she was disappointed that June didn’t share her own urgent desire to do what she could to help with the country’s preparations for war.
‘Is that Pete Ridley outside with his milk float and horse?’
‘Yes, Dad,’ Molly confirmed, protesting when her father opened the back door. ‘Where are you going? He’ll leave the milk on the doorstep like always.’
‘’Tain’t the milk I’m after, it’s the horse muck,’ he told her forthrightly. ‘Right good for the allotment it’ll be. And that reminds me, there’s a few of the lads as will be coming round tonight to talk about the allotments. We’re going to be forming a committee, seeing as how we’re going to be part of the war effort and “digging for victory”,’ he told Molly proudly before disappearing through the door to speak to the milkman.
‘Wait up, Molly,’ June puffed. ‘You’re walking too fast.’
‘I don’t want us to be late,’ Molly answered her worriedly as she waited for June to catch up with her. ‘I’m sure that Miss Jenner is going to be looking for any excuse to make trouble for us.’
‘So what? With old man Harding looking to take on extra workers, he’s not gonna want to lose good machinists like us. He’ll have the Government to answer to if he doesn’t get them uniforms made on time.’
Since the other girls had also arrived a few minutes early, Molly suspected that they all shared her wariness of Miss Jenner. A handful of girls she didn’t recognise were huddled together just inside the workroom, looking uncertain and anxious. One of them didn’t look much more than fourteen, her thin arms and legs poking out of her worn dress.
Molly smiled at them as she tucked her hair up and pinned it back, before putting on her overall. Earlier in the year she and June had treated themselves to a new hairdo apiece at Lewis’s, where Molly’s hair had been cut into the style favoured by the actress Vivien Leigh for her role in the much-anticipated Gone with the Wind.
Molly had just seated herself at the machine when the work bell rang shrilly.
Immediately the door opened and Miss Jenner came in, her lips pursed as she silently inspected the rows of expectant machinists.
‘From now on we shall be having a roll call every morning five minutes before you start work. Anyone not here for that roll call will lose a day’s pay.’
An outraged mutter of protest filled the room but Miss Jenner ignored it, walking over to the new girls.
‘Hardings has an important role to play in the war effort and you will find that I run this machine room with the same discipline and dedication with which an army commander controls his men. Since I understand that none of you has any previous experience as machinists, you will each sit beside a machinist and watch her work. Then this afternoon you will be given your own machine and you will start to work properly. Every garment made in this factory will be inspected by me, and if it fails to meet the high standards our fighting men deserve, then the machinist will be fined for the cost of the time and the material lost.’
A gasp of indignation filled the silence.
‘Well, I’m gonna tell her straight I’m not puttin’ up wi’ it. Not for one minute I’m not,’ Sheila fumed later, after the dinner bell had rung and the girls were all clustered together talking, after enduring a morning of silence.
‘I’m tekkin’ meself down to the Metal Box as was, first thing tomorrow morning. Crying out for workers there, they are, so I’ve heard,’ said another girl.
The new girls all looked so exhausted and worried that Molly couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.
‘I’m right worried that they won’t keep me on,’ Jean Hughes, the girl who sat next to Molly, confided whilst they ate their dinner, Molly having surreptitiously given half of her sandwiches to Evie, the stick-thin new girl, when she saw that Evie hadn’t brought anything to eat.
Molly knew that Jean lived down on Daffodil Street, one of the ‘flower’ streets close to the docks, and, after listening to Irene, was worried that she wouldn’t be able to keep a job that she had confided to Molly was a bit of a step up for her.
‘You’ll do fine,’ Molly assured her kindly. ‘It’s just that we haven’t got used to Miss Jenner yet.’
‘I’m sick of this ruddy war already,’ Ruby complained, ‘and it hasn’t even started yet. Our mam’s acting like she’s got ants in her pants ever since we got