ma’am, no ma’am business, all that being ordered left, right and centre for two shillings a day all found. Two bob a day! That amounted to almost six times what her mother allowed her and she could keep the whole lot to her herself! Fourteen shillings . . . and all hers. It was a heady thought. So much money and a uniform so sexy it had the head spin.
Money! Alice’s half-closed eyes jerked wide. There was her answer, the solution to her dilemma. If she sent home, say, ten shillings every week, ten shillings not a penny of which would have to be spent on her keep, that might have her mother sign on the dotted line. Yes, her mother would go for that! Relief bringing a smile, Alice returned to her fantasy. Which should she go for, the WAAF or the WRNS? Light blue or dark blue, both uniforms were mouth watering but . . . eyes closing in sleep, her smile became one of pure content. Navy blue trimmed with gold braid, the Women’s Royal Naval Service, that was the service she would join.
Dare she? Violet Hawley looked at the carefully folded lavender silk scarf lying in a drawer of her dressing table. Five pounds she had paid, five pounds for what Jim Slater had said was a bargain. But how much of a bargain if she could not use what she had bought?
As he stood on her doorstep, Jim Slater’s small wide apart eyes had flicked along the street with the quick nervous motion of an animal under constant threat of being hunted.
‘. . . this be more than a bag of sugar or half a pound of tea but you ’ave to make your mind up now . . .’
More than tea or sugar . . . then what? She had stared uncomprehendingly. He carried no bag, no newspaper-wrapped parcel, so what could he be offering?
‘. . . I ain’t standin’ here all day . . . either you be interested or you don’t. If you are then I steps inside, if you says no then I’ll be away, but this I’ll tell for free, you won’t go gettin’ another chance like I be offerin’ now, not in a long while you won’t .’
She had asked him in!
Violet stared at the scarf but saw only a pair of small eyes glinting back at her.
‘ This’ll make a big improvement to your life .’
He had reached into an inner pocket of his too flashy coat, bringing out an ordinary brown envelope.
‘. . . what I ’ave in this packet can act like magic, certainly it can make your life much easier . . .’
He had handed the envelope to her urging her to look at the contents.
‘. . . Didn’t I say life could be easier? ’
Already thin lips had narrowed to a vulpine smile, sharp eyes never leaving her face.
‘ Think of it ,’ he had urged again, ‘ think of the benefits that can bring, I ain’t sayin’ it will ’ave life the same as it were a few years back but with what you holds in your hand it can certainly be a lot more comfortable, and at five pounds I reckon that to be a bargain you can’t pass up .’
She had not passed it up.
Lifting the scarf from the drawer, Violet placed it on the table top then peeled back the layers of soft lavender to reveal the slim buff coloured books, bold black lettering stating their purpose, the vacant space waiting for names to be added.
‘Ration Book.’
The words had seemed to spring at her.
Double everything . . . with these she could have twice the amount of food allowed now. Eight ounces of meat in place of four would mean a meat meal more than once a week, the same of bacon; a double ration of tea, sugar, butter, milk and even eggs which ever stricter rationing had reduced from one a week to one each fortnight, she would have two in place of one! She could have more of them all, all of the basics she missed so much.
‘ Well if you don’t want them . . .’
It had taken no more than a moment for the ultimatum to sink in, no more than his
Money! Alice’s half-closed eyes jerked wide. There was her answer, the solution to her dilemma. If she sent home, say, ten shillings every week, ten shillings not a penny of which would have to be spent on her keep, that might have her mother sign on the dotted line. Yes, her mother would go for that! Relief bringing a smile, Alice returned to her fantasy. Which should she go for, the WAAF or the WRNS? Light blue or dark blue, both uniforms were mouth watering but . . . eyes closing in sleep, her smile became one of pure content. Navy blue trimmed with gold braid, the Women’s Royal Naval Service, that was the service she would join.
Dare she? Violet Hawley looked at the carefully folded lavender silk scarf lying in a drawer of her dressing table. Five pounds she had paid, five pounds for what Jim Slater had said was a bargain. But how much of a bargain if she could not use what she had bought?
As he stood on her doorstep, Jim Slater’s small wide apart eyes had flicked along the street with the quick nervous motion of an animal under constant threat of being hunted.
‘. . . this be more than a bag of sugar or half a pound of tea but you ’ave to make your mind up now . . .’
More than tea or sugar . . . then what? She had stared uncomprehendingly. He carried no bag, no newspaper-wrapped parcel, so what could he be offering?
‘. . . I ain’t standin’ here all day . . . either you be interested or you don’t. If you are then I steps inside, if you says no then I’ll be away, but this I’ll tell for free, you won’t go gettin’ another chance like I be offerin’ now, not in a long while you won’t .’
She had asked him in!
Violet stared at the scarf but saw only a pair of small eyes glinting back at her.
‘ This’ll make a big improvement to your life .’
He had reached into an inner pocket of his too flashy coat, bringing out an ordinary brown envelope.
‘. . . what I ’ave in this packet can act like magic, certainly it can make your life much easier . . .’
He had handed the envelope to her urging her to look at the contents.
‘. . . Didn’t I say life could be easier? ’
Already thin lips had narrowed to a vulpine smile, sharp eyes never leaving her face.
‘ Think of it ,’ he had urged again, ‘ think of the benefits that can bring, I ain’t sayin’ it will ’ave life the same as it were a few years back but with what you holds in your hand it can certainly be a lot more comfortable, and at five pounds I reckon that to be a bargain you can’t pass up .’
She had not passed it up.
Lifting the scarf from the drawer, Violet placed it on the table top then peeled back the layers of soft lavender to reveal the slim buff coloured books, bold black lettering stating their purpose, the vacant space waiting for names to be added.
‘Ration Book.’
The words had seemed to spring at her.
Double everything . . . with these she could have twice the amount of food allowed now. Eight ounces of meat in place of four would mean a meat meal more than once a week, the same of bacon; a double ration of tea, sugar, butter, milk and even eggs which ever stricter rationing had reduced from one a week to one each fortnight, she would have two in place of one! She could have more of them all, all of the basics she missed so much.
‘ Well if you don’t want them . . .’
It had taken no more than a moment for the ultimatum to sink in, no more than his
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