A Step Too Far by Meg Hutchinson

thickened as she met the boy’s smile and she had to force her reply. ‘Granddad washing dishes? That I would have to see.’
         ‘We do a lot of things together.’ Reuben’s smile widened to a grin. ‘He also tells me a lot about when you were young, about the tricks you got up to.’
         ‘Tricks?’ Mock effrontery drawing her mouth into a line, Miriam draped the drying cloth over the line strung above the kitchen stove. ‘I’ll need to have a word with your grandfather!’
         ‘Best make it tomorrow mum, it’s twenty minutes to six, you will be late for work if you don’t leave now.’
         Night shifts were the hardest of all for any of the mothers working to help the war effort. Being parted from family during an air raid took every ounce of will-power not to run from the place of work and dash home. Yet hundreds of mothers held in their fears and worked on.
         Having hugged her son, leaving him with yet another instruction about going into the garden shelter should the warning siren sound, Miriam ran along the street, her heart pounding when she saw the bus already at the bus stop. It wasn’t so much the thought of being quartered, though losing money was far from unimportant in the Carson household, it was thinking how many shells remained unmade by folk coming late into work had her run the faster.
         ‘Seen you comin’, wench.’
         Putting a steadying hand to Miriam’s elbow as she skipped onto the platform, the conductor smiled and rang the bell for the vehicle to resume its journey.
         ‘Can’t ’ave you locked out can we? That would serve to mek the little Führer ’appy and that be the last thing me and Sam there would want to be a doin’.’
         ‘Tell Sam I’m very grateful.’ Breathy from her run Miriam’s answer brought another smile, the elderly conductor nodding as he issued the twopenny ticket.
         ‘Sam be sensible, he don’t go pullin’ away when he can see there be a body racing along a gettin’ of the bus; and what matter be a few seconds set alongside what you women be doin’? It be you keeps our fighting forces supplied with what be needed to put the little Führer in his place; be sure the country won’t never forget the efforts you all be mekin’.’
         As the coins dropped into the leather bag slung from the conductor’s waist, Miriam turned her gaze to the window. Beyond, the world seemed to lie in darkness, no shop showing a glimmer of light, no street lamp casting a pool of gold on the satin blackness; only a dark emptiness echoing the emptiness of her heart.
         Efforts! Miriam caught her lip between her teeth. Women had worked alongside men since time began. It was not their efforts brought them heartache, it was the sacrifice . . . the losing forever of their loved ones, that was the burden could never be lifted from their hearts, the shadow which would never pass entirely from their soul. She had made that sacrifice once, please God she would never be called upon to do the like again.
     
    She had the necessary papers. Alice sprinted the last few yards to the factory gates. That clerk along of the labour office had been very helpful explaining all that was needed to do.
         Calling a quick ‘tell you later’ in reply to Becky’s enquiring glance she hurriedly switched on her machine as the vigilant eye of the foreman settled on her. As she watched the silver ribbon of steel curve away in a spiral, Alice’s lips drew together in a wry line. That woman had explained what it was she must do in order to join the Women’s Services, but getting it done was something else again. It wasn’t going to be easy; in fact, getting her mother to agree to allow her to leave home would be no less than fighting another war. But she would fight it!
         Alice gave free rein to her imagination. She could run away from home . . . no, that wouldn’t do, for she still would have no parental consent