road blindfold by now, and anyway I can’t go on hiding myself away up at the house, not now there’s a war on.’
‘You’ll need some thick trousers to protect yer legs. One of the girls lost a leg only last week on a length of steel strip so just you be prepared, and be careful.’
‘I’ll be all right.’ Mary smiled. ‘Anyway, I must be going. I’ll see you on Monday then. Bye bye, Douglas. He’s a lovely little boy, Mrs Downing.’
‘Aye. Came as a shock, he did, at my time of life, and so long after the others. Like a belated gift, yer might say, and he brought love with ’im just the same as the others did.
Ta-ra then, love. Take care.’
As Mary carried the groceries up the hill she marvelled at the friendliness of the people in this beautiful Yorkshire village, and thought she could quite happily stay here for ever. How Tom
must be missing it all. She prayed silently that he would return safely, and her stomach turned over as she remembered she hadn’t attended Mass since Christmas. Somehow she couldn’t
bring herself to confess a sin that didn’t seem like a sin at all.
If only Father Flynn was here. She thought she could have made him understand. Oh, well, perhaps she would ride up to the convent next week. There again, she might not have time if she began her
new job.
She started to sing to herself as she walked along the lane, a hymn she’d heard on the wireless, and somehow she gained comfort from the words.
Chapter Seven
By the time Mary saw Millington for the first time she thought her legs didn’t belong to her. The journey had consisted of the hill down into Longfield, then up past the
convent and down into the next valley, which Mary learned was called Cowholes. Then, they had yet another hill to climb and she found it impossible to pedal more than halfway up.
‘Come on, buck up, we’re going to be late,’ Bessie called. ‘It won’t be so bad after today, it’s just that you haven’t had enough practise on yer
bike.’
‘I feel as though I’ve walked five hundred miles,’ said Mary. ‘I’m beginning to hope I don’t get the job if it’s going to be like this every
day.’
Lucy laughed. ‘Never mind, it’s all downhill from now on. Can you see the works down in the bottom?’
The road wound down past a church and through street after street of grey stone houses. In the bottom a row of stark black chimneys belched out smoke from the steelworks, which stretched the
length of the valley, separated from the main street by the river. Mary’s stomach churned nervously. She hadn’t realised how vast the factory would be. Crowds of workers made their way
silently in the direction of the entrance.
Bessie told Mary where to go and whom to ask for, and then she and Lucy hurried away through a pair of swing doors. Mary parked her bike, walked across some railway lines and knocked on a door
marked PERSONNEL . A voice boomed out for her to enter and her stomach gave another lurch.
‘Well?’ said the voice, its owner not looking up from the desk.
‘I – I’d like a job,’ Mary faltered.
‘What can yer do?’ asked the balding head.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t worked in a factory before.’
The man looked up at last, appraising her as though she had been dragged in by the cat. ‘Been mollycoddled, have yer? How old are yer?’
Mary felt the blood rush to her face.
‘I’ve been in service and I’m seventeen. I’m here because there’s a war on, but if you don’t want me then I’ll be going.’ She turned on her heel
and reached the door.
‘Here, hold yer horses. Come back here. Don’t yer know it’s Monday morning, and I’m not in the best of moods on a Monday. Anyway, yer look like a lass with a bit of
spirit, and we can do with a few like you. Did yer have owt in mind? I mean, do you know anyone who works here?’
‘I know Bessie and Lucy Downing in the spring shop.’
‘Oh, well, if yer pull yer weight like those two yer’ll
‘You’ll need some thick trousers to protect yer legs. One of the girls lost a leg only last week on a length of steel strip so just you be prepared, and be careful.’
‘I’ll be all right.’ Mary smiled. ‘Anyway, I must be going. I’ll see you on Monday then. Bye bye, Douglas. He’s a lovely little boy, Mrs Downing.’
‘Aye. Came as a shock, he did, at my time of life, and so long after the others. Like a belated gift, yer might say, and he brought love with ’im just the same as the others did.
Ta-ra then, love. Take care.’
As Mary carried the groceries up the hill she marvelled at the friendliness of the people in this beautiful Yorkshire village, and thought she could quite happily stay here for ever. How Tom
must be missing it all. She prayed silently that he would return safely, and her stomach turned over as she remembered she hadn’t attended Mass since Christmas. Somehow she couldn’t
bring herself to confess a sin that didn’t seem like a sin at all.
If only Father Flynn was here. She thought she could have made him understand. Oh, well, perhaps she would ride up to the convent next week. There again, she might not have time if she began her
new job.
She started to sing to herself as she walked along the lane, a hymn she’d heard on the wireless, and somehow she gained comfort from the words.
Chapter Seven
By the time Mary saw Millington for the first time she thought her legs didn’t belong to her. The journey had consisted of the hill down into Longfield, then up past the
convent and down into the next valley, which Mary learned was called Cowholes. Then, they had yet another hill to climb and she found it impossible to pedal more than halfway up.
‘Come on, buck up, we’re going to be late,’ Bessie called. ‘It won’t be so bad after today, it’s just that you haven’t had enough practise on yer
bike.’
‘I feel as though I’ve walked five hundred miles,’ said Mary. ‘I’m beginning to hope I don’t get the job if it’s going to be like this every
day.’
Lucy laughed. ‘Never mind, it’s all downhill from now on. Can you see the works down in the bottom?’
The road wound down past a church and through street after street of grey stone houses. In the bottom a row of stark black chimneys belched out smoke from the steelworks, which stretched the
length of the valley, separated from the main street by the river. Mary’s stomach churned nervously. She hadn’t realised how vast the factory would be. Crowds of workers made their way
silently in the direction of the entrance.
Bessie told Mary where to go and whom to ask for, and then she and Lucy hurried away through a pair of swing doors. Mary parked her bike, walked across some railway lines and knocked on a door
marked PERSONNEL . A voice boomed out for her to enter and her stomach gave another lurch.
‘Well?’ said the voice, its owner not looking up from the desk.
‘I – I’d like a job,’ Mary faltered.
‘What can yer do?’ asked the balding head.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t worked in a factory before.’
The man looked up at last, appraising her as though she had been dragged in by the cat. ‘Been mollycoddled, have yer? How old are yer?’
Mary felt the blood rush to her face.
‘I’ve been in service and I’m seventeen. I’m here because there’s a war on, but if you don’t want me then I’ll be going.’ She turned on her heel
and reached the door.
‘Here, hold yer horses. Come back here. Don’t yer know it’s Monday morning, and I’m not in the best of moods on a Monday. Anyway, yer look like a lass with a bit of
spirit, and we can do with a few like you. Did yer have owt in mind? I mean, do you know anyone who works here?’
‘I know Bessie and Lucy Downing in the spring shop.’
‘Oh, well, if yer pull yer weight like those two yer’ll
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