And the British – who now accepted how much so many owed to the few who had kept the invasion at bay this far – thought uneasily of what seemed to have been postponed until next spring; thought too of the second winter of the war which would bring the blackout with it and cold houses because coal was rationed and gas and electricity not to be used except when necessary.
It was at the height of the blitzkrieg on London that two things happened at Ladybower. William wrote to say he was coming on leave on September 7th and, to Ness’s shock and horror, it was announced on the wireless that Liverpool had been bombed.
‘Lorna!’ Her face paled, her eyes were wide with fear. ‘What about Ruth Street? What about Mam and Da, and Nan? God! What’ll I do?’
‘You’ll get on the phone at once. Liverpool isn’t all that far away. Maybe trunks will have a line. Tell Mrs B it’s urgent, ask her to do her best.’
‘But we aren’t on the phone!’ Did Lorna think phones were everyday pieces of equipment? In little houses like Ruth Street? ‘There’s a phone at the pub at the top of the street, but that’s all …’
‘Right! Do you know the number? No? Then we’ll ask for enquiries. They’ll tell us. And you’ll be going home, won’t you – we’ll have to get in touch with the forewoman at the hostel.’
‘Home? Y-yes, I suppose so – if I’m allowed.’
‘Of course you’ll be allowed, especially if – well, if your folks need you there. It’s called compassionate leave, Ness, and anyway, you’re due a week off, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. Kate said only the other day it might be a good thing if I took what leave was due to me soon. Before they started lifting potatoes and things. But ring the exchange, Lorna? See if we can get the pub. It’s called the Sefton Arms – the landlord’s name is Rigby.’
‘Mrs B? Look, Liverpool has been bombed,’ Lorna whispered when the exchange answered. ‘It was on the wireless and Ness is worried sick. Can you get us the number of Rigby, Sefton Arms public house, in Ruth Street, Liverpool? Will it take long?’
‘No. I’ll ring you back. And tell Ness I’m sorry, will you …?’
‘Well, that’s got Mrs Benson on our side. And Ness, Liverpool is a big city; it’s unlikely the bombs have been anywhere near your home. More likely the docks …’
‘Ar. The docks. But you’d have thought Mam would have rung me here, wouldn’t you? There’s a phone box at the end of the street. If they’d been able, they’d surely have got in touch to let me know they were all right.’
‘Ness! No news is good news don’t forget and maybe there’s a good reason why they haven’t been in touch. There’ll be a lot of people phoning in and out of Liverpool since it was given out about the bombing. Maybe their trunk lines are extra busy at the moment. There’s all sorts of reasons for them not phoning. And put the kettle on? A cup of tea, eh?’
‘Yes. Of course,’ Ness whispered as if tea would put everything to rights. ‘And it’ll be all right, won’t it?’
‘Of course it will.’ Lorna ran her tongue round suddenly dry lips. ‘We’ll be through to the pub in no time, just you see and –’
‘But you said the trunk lines would be busy, didn’t you? Mam hadn’t rung me, you said, because there was probably a waiting list for long-distance calls …’
‘Yes – we-e-ll – that was only one reason! There are dozens of others. Maybe your folks have gone to relations.’
‘Without ringing me first?’
‘Probably. Do they have relations locally? Are they perhaps on the phone?’
‘There’s Uncle Perce and Aunt Tizzy. Perce is Da’s brother. They live over the water …’
‘Where’s that?’
‘Other side of the river. People call it living over the water. They might’ve gone there, but Uncle Perce isn’t on the phone, either. Lorna – what’ll we do?’
‘Like I said – kettle! Then, as soon as we’ve got a number we’ll put in a call. It’ll be all right, you’ll see. And I’m sure you’ll be allowed leave. We’ll get in touch with the hostel after you’ve phoned your folks.’
Long before the kettle boiled the phone rang and Lorna ran into the hall to lift the receiver with a shaking hand.
‘Yes? Mrs B?’
‘Hullo, dear. I have that number and I’ve booked a trunk call – is that all right?’
‘Bless you, of course it’s all right!’
‘Then if you’ve got a pencil and paper handy you’d better write it down, then fingers crossed it won’t take too long to get through.’
Lorna wrote, then whispered,
‘Thanks, Mrs B. We were just going to have a cup of tea.’
‘Then have one for me, will you? This switchboard’s going mad tonight. Thank heaven the post office is closed, that’s all I can say! Cheerio, now. Can’t stop!’
‘That’s the number of the pub.’ Lorna laid the scrap of paper on the table. ‘And Mrs Benson has booked the call already. She says the switchboard is busy tonight; maybe it’s the same all over. It’ll be all right, love. Try not to worry too much?’
‘No. I won’t. Bless you for being here, queen. I seem to have gone to pieces. Stupid, aren’t I?’
‘Of course you aren’t! And there’s the kettle. Sit down, Ness. Close your eyes and breathe in and out. I always deep breathe when I’m worried – and there you are! Phone! Go on then and answer it! It’ll be for you!’
Lorna smiled and stirred the tea in the pot. It was going to be all right. The call had come through quickly which only went to prove it was!
‘But why?’ Ness’s agitated voice came clearly from the hall. ‘But didn’t they say any more than that? Shall we try again, then?’
There was a pause, then Ness stood in the doorway, her face ashen, eyes brimming with tears.
‘Mrs Benson got a trunk line, but the Liverpool exchange said they couldn’t raise the pub; said the number was dead. Mrs B says she’ll keep trying, though. Oh, Lorna, what’s to do at Ruth Street? Has Mam been bombed?’ She sat at the table, head on hands, shoulders shaking.
‘Listen. Just because one phone number isn’t available, doesn’t mean your folks aren’t all right. Maybe there has been a bomb a long way off – one bomb can burst a water main and everybody for streets around has no water. And if the telephone cables have been damaged, even a mile away, it could –’
‘Listen! I’m goin’ home! Tonight! Now! And I don’t care what anybody says!’
‘No, Ness. By the time we can get you to York, the last train to Liverpool will probably have gone!’
‘I
