Annie Groves - A Mother’s Blessing

‘They might be fit and handsome when they first put on their uniforms, but they won’t be for very long. Soon they’ll start coming home dead, just like my Thomas …’ The high-pitched emotional voice that joined the conversation belonged to Hannah Carter, the oldest and normally the quietest of the machinists, a small spare woman who had been widowed at the end of the First World War. Everyone turned to look at her with varying degrees of consternation or accusation.

‘’Ere, Hannah, there’s no call for you to be saying stuff like that, and upsetting people,’ Sheila Williams protested, her already florid complexion turning even pinker.

‘Yes, there is. You don’t know what it’s going to be like, but I do. You don’t know how it feels to send your husband off to war and never see him again.’ Hannah had started to cry in earnest now.

Molly went over to try to comfort her.

‘Watch out. Boss is on his way,’ one of the girls called out, and immediately they all hurried to their machines so that by the time the door opened to admit a grey-haired middle-aged man and the thin-faced woman accompanying him, the room was filled with the sound of treadle machines busily stitching.

Robert Harding rang a small hand bell as a signal to the women to stop work, and then announced importantly, ‘From today we’re going to be making some changes at Hardings, on account of us being called on by the Government to make uniforms for our brave soldiers.’

‘What kind of changes?’ Irene demanded sturdily.

‘Well, for one thing we’re going to be taking on more machinists, and for another, Miss Jenner here is going to be in charge of all you machinists, to make sure that the uniforms are made to the proper standard.’

Molly gave a small shiver as she looked at the thin, hard-eyed woman standing at Robert Harding’s side, surveying them all with unsmiling grimness. There was something about her that sent a chill right through Molly.

‘All right, back to work, everyone.’

The sharp command was given almost before the door had closed behind Robert Harding, and although the girls obediently bent over their work, Molly was anxiously aware that some of them, June included, were not likely to take very well to Miss Jenner’s arrival. It sent another shiver of apprehension all the way down Molly’s spine to know that the supervisor was patrolling the narrow aisles between the rows of machines, standing behind each of them in turn to observe their work. Up to now Molly had liked her job. She was a good machinist, quick and deft, but with the cold censorious weight of Miss Jenner’s gaze on her back she was all fingers and thumbs.

‘So when are we gonna be starting working on these uniforms, then, Miss Jenner?’ May asked boldly, causing a collective sigh of relief to spread through the room at this breaking of the silent tension.

Their relief had come too soon though. Miss Jenner strode towards May and said coldly, ‘In future you will speak only when you are spoken to. And let me remind you that you are all here to work, not to engage in time-wasting chatter. I have already told Mr Harding that I think he would do well to put in place a system of fines for workers who shirk their duties – in any kind of way.’

Molly could see the tide of angry red staining the back of May’s neck.

Without the normal banter between the girls to speed them through the day, time seemed to drag, and Molly could scarcely conceal her relief when the dinner bell rang, signalling the end of the morning’s work.

Immediately, June stood up and called, ‘Come on, our Molly. We’ll have to put a bit of speed on if we’re to get down to Lewis’s and back …’

‘You there, girl. Who gave you permission to stop work?’ Miss Jenner demanded icily.

‘The dinner bell’s been rung and that means that it’s dinner time. And me and me sister have got to get down to Lewis’s and get our blackout material, just like the Government has told us to do,’ June defended herself, raising her eyebrows as though defying Miss Jenner to claim a higher authority than that of the British Government.

‘Very well then. But see that you are back here before the work bell rings otherwise you’ll be docked half a day’s pay.’

‘You gorra be careful with that Jenner, June. It looks to me like she’s going to give us a lorra grief,’ May warned ten minutes later as they all streamed out of the room, heading for the small ‘canteen’ where they were allowed to eat their dinner and make themselves a hot drink.

‘So what? Let her try, if she wants,’ June shrugged. ‘I don’t care. Come on, Molly,’ she instructed. ‘We’ve got to get down to Lewis’s.

‘It’ll be quicker if we walk instead of waiting for the bus,’ June announced once they were outside the factory, but in the end, even though they ran almost the whole way down to Ranelagh Street, it still took fifteen precious minutes.

‘Oh, Gawd, look at the queue,’ June complained when they hurried into Lewis’s haberdashery department. The shop was filled with customers milling around amongst the rainbow-coloured bolts of cloth and shelves of pins, needles and buttons.

Lewis’s was Molly’s favourite store and she could remember the thrill of coming here as a little girl, holding tightly on to Elsie’s plump hand for fear that she might be lost in the crowd of shoppers. Now that she was older, though, one of her favourite treats was to wander round the well-stocked haberdashery department. Unlike June, Molly loved sewing and was a dab hand at making things. She also had a good eye for the right bit of trimming to smarten up an old blouse, or last year’s hat.

‘Look, you go and get the blackout stuff,’ June told her, ‘and I’ll go and look for a pattern for me wedding dress whilst you’re queuing. Here’s the measurements for the windows.’

‘June, we’re not going to get served in time to get back. Wouldn’t it be better if we came back tonight?’ Molly begged her.

‘What, after we’ve gone and run all the way here? Don’t be so soft. You go and get in that queue.’

Half an hour later, when Molly was only three from the front of the queue, June came hurrying up to her, pulling a face and complaining, ‘I was hoping you’d have been served by now …’

‘Did you find a pattern?’ Molly asked her.

‘Yes, but I wanted you to come and have a look at it with me and there won’t be time now. Here, come on, it’s our turn next,’ she warned, digging Molly in the ribs.

‘By, but this stuff is heavy,’ June complained, stopping to push her hair off her hot face.

‘We should have left it until tonight and then gone straight home on the bus,’ Molly told her.

‘Oh, give over saying that, will you, our Molly?’

It was just gone one o’clock when they finally trudged wearily into the factory yard, but when Molly would have made straight for the workroom, June shook her head at her.

‘What are you doing?’ Molly asked worriedly when she saw her sister heading determinedly for Mr Harding’s office.

‘Wait and see. And here, take hold of this lot for a mo, will yer?’ June thrust her own parcel on top of Molly’s, before knocking firmly on the office door.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr Harding,’ Molly heard June announcing when the factory owner opened the door, ‘only I thought as how we should explain ourselves on account of us being late back from our dinner break.’

‘You’re late?’ Molly saw him frown as he looked at his watch.

‘Yes,’ June confirmed, ‘and I’m right sorry about it, only I felt it was our duty to go down to Lewis’s just as soon as we could to get our blackout material, what with us getting notices about it from the Government, and all.’