June had told Iris not to worry – that she was prepared for a city that had borne the brunt of constant bombing attacks – but she hadn’t expected the sights that met her. Whole streets were razed to the ground, and when they turned a corner they saw flames burning in what had obviously been a sizeable commercial building. They watched a group of firemen trying to bring it under control.
‘Jerry were busy last night,’ said one of the firemen, nodding in their direction.
‘Lewis’s department store,’ Iris said with dismay. ‘It’s my favourite shop – or was. But that’s nothing compared with so many of the wonderful old buildings – our landmarks – vanished or standing like empty shells. Most of it happened in May when they blitzed us. They even managed to hit the cathedral but it wasn’t damaged too badly so if it comes through the war, they’ll repair it. It’s so ghastly.’ She turned her face to June, her eyes moist. ‘Let’s go, June. It makes me feel sick looking at it. Oh, I’m so fed up with this bloody war.’
The scene was so terrible that this time June didn’t even cringe at Iris’s swear word. And it was bloody. Men and women were dying in England, in France, and of course in Germany, and though she couldn’t feel quite so sympathetic about the enemy, it was still a tragic waste of lives. A shiver of horror ran down her spine as she saw an old man lying on his back by the side of the road, still and pale, his eyes open. A woman came out of one of the shops and put a blanket over the figure, pulling it right over his head.
‘Don’t look,’ Iris said. ‘He’s dead. Probably had a heart attack. It’s happening quite a bit to the elderly. I had to give some first aid to an old lady the last time I was in town. Thank goodness she came round but there’s nothing we can do here. Someone will see to what needs to be done.’ She took June’s arm and moved her away.
‘So many people have lost their homes,’ June said, her eyes pricking with tears. ‘Look over there – those poor people picking through all those bricks for their belongings.’
Her stomach sickened at the sight of houses where their owners’ once precious belongings had been proudly on show to their visitors, and now spilled out of blown-out walls and down smashed-up staircases – beds, mattresses, tables, washstands, stoves, pictures, clothes – all looking as though they were ready for the rag-and-bone man.
‘We’re not going to be sad,’ Iris said firmly. ‘We’re going to get you the best boots you’ve ever had. And then we’ll go and have tea in one of the cafés.’
Iris led her down one street and then another, June’s feet becoming colder by the minute. She wished she had a street map to see where she was going. Maybe she could pick one up in a stationer’s or a bookshop.
‘Here we are,’ Iris said. ‘One of my favourite shoe shops – they don’t have quite the choice these days but they’re bound to have something suitable.’
‘They’re too expensive,’ June said, peering in the window at the price tags.
Iris laughed and practically pushed her inside.
‘Try these.’ Iris held up a pair of sturdy leather boots with a fur lining. June could tell at a glance they’d be dear.
‘They’re too big.’ June shook her head but Iris ignored her and asked a smartly dressed lady if she would measure her friend’s foot.
‘You have very small feet, Miss,’ the saleswoman said, scrutinising the measurement. ‘Only a three-and-a-half. I’ll see if I have them in your size.’ She unbent with a wince and threw back her shoulders. ‘Back in a jiffy.’
True to her word she was back with another box and a shoehorn. When she was satisfied June’s foot was in the correct position she said, ‘Now try walking in them.’
They felt as though they’d been made for her.
‘How do they feel, June?’ Iris looked down and gave a satisfied nod.
‘They’re lovely and comfortable, but—’
‘But you can’t afford them,’ Iris finished. June reddened. ‘I’ll lend you the money. Pay me back when you can. You just need six coupons. Have you got your ration book with you?’
‘Yes, but—’ She didn’t want to admit she’d used up most of her yearly allowance of sixty coupons already when she’d been offered the job. Aunt Ada had insisted she buy a desperately needed coat, and the shoes that she’d just taken off, as well as a skirt and blouse, camiknickers and stockings. June bit her lip, mentally adding them up. Six more for the boots. That would only leave eight to last until the end of May.
‘We’ll take the boots, thank you.’ Iris walked over to the lady at the till and fished out her purse.
‘But—’
Iris put her hand up. ‘Stop! Those shoes you’re wearing will let in all the wet. In fact’ – she turned back to the lady at the till – ‘my friend will wear the boots straightaway.’
There was nothing June could do. She could tell Iris was determined and used to taking charge. She had to admit the boots were warm and the soles thick enough to practically skim over the snow.
‘Thank you, Iris. I’ll pay you back soon, I promise.’
‘See that you do,’ Iris said with mock firmness. She looked at June and grinned. ‘You’ve got some colour in those pale cheeks now. You’re pretty, but I expect you know that. Bet you’ve got all the boys after you.’
‘I haven’t got a boyfriend at the moment,’ June said, a sudden image of the tall, broad-shouldered man in the greatcoat with the mocking smile making her go pink.
‘You will soon, what with the RAF station nearby.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Speke. The RAF station. It’s only a few miles away. The boys there go to dances. And we go to dances. There’s never enough girls so we’re never short of partners. You’re coming with me to the next one.’
‘I’ve never been to a dance.’
‘Well, now’s the time.’ Iris slipped her hand through June’s arm as they left the shop. It felt nice. It had been a long time since she’d had a real friend. ‘Are you ready for a cup of tea, Junie, or what would you like to do?’
Junie. The only person who had called her that was Clara. June swallowed.
‘Do you mind me calling you Junie?’ Iris asked as though she’d read June’s thoughts.
‘N-no, not at all,’ June stuttered. The pain was always close enough to burst out at any moment. She blinked back the tears. ‘I was wondering if there was a second-hand bookshop anywhere.’ She looked around vaguely as though one might spring out at her. ‘I could do with a map of Liverpool and I’d love a new book to read.’
‘I’d have thought there would be plenty of books in the library at the home,’ Iris said.
‘I had a look yesterday but they’re mostly what I’d call scholarly. I just want something light to read in bed before I switch my light out.’
‘Lucky you to be able to see to read,’ Iris said grimly. ‘My light’s awful. Maybe I’ll see if I can find a stronger bulb … buy it myself ’cos Matron will never give me one.’ She stopped, her forehead puckering. ‘Let’s see … there are two second-hand bookshops near here … more or less the same, except one has a bad-tempered owner and the other one is just the opposite – polite and helpful.’