good,’ Katie told them when they had finished their routine and had turned, slightlybreathless, to face her, ‘but being on the stage isn’t what you think it is. All that glitter is just a few sequins stuck onto cheap cloth that’s darned all over the place, cheap lodgings where you don’t get enough to eat, damp bedding and bedbugs, and cheap …’
‘Values’, Katie had been about to say but they were too young for her to talk to them about that kind of thing, she decided, watching them grimace over the bedbugs and giggle that she was teasing them.
‘We can’t understand how you can leave something so glamorous to come here and sit all day reading letters,’ Lou told her.
‘No, if it was us you’d never get us doing what you’re doing,’ Sasha agreed.
‘That’s because you don’t know what it’s really like, and that means that you are very lucky,’ Katie told them firmly.
‘Well, we still want to be on the stage, don’t we, Sasha?’ Lou asked her twin.
‘Yes, we do,’ Sasha confirmed, ‘and we’re going to be, as well.’
Not if their parents had anything to do with it they weren’t, Katie thought. She didn’t blame Jean and Sam either, but the twins were stubborn and Katie suspected that the more they were told they couldn’t do something, the more they would want to do it.
FOUR
Saturday 21 December
‘Well, I must say, Mum, she does seem a decent sort,’ Grace Campion told her mother generously.
Grace had initially felt rather jealous when her mother had spoken so enthusiastically to her about this girl who was billeted with Grace’s parents, but now having met Katie Grace had to admit that she had liked her.
The three of them had gone for a cup of tea at Lyons Corner House, Jean having decided that it was best that Grace met Katie on neutral ground.
Tactfully Katie had now gone off to do some shopping, leaving mother and daughter to talk on their own.
‘She won’t be going home for Christmas so she’ll be having her Christmas dinner with us. I’m hoping that our Luke will get leave to be home. I’ll miss you, Grace love, but it’s only natural that Seb’s family want to meet you.’
‘We’ll be back to see in the New Year with you, Mum. Then I’m on nights again.’
‘You’ll have been busy today, love, with Hitler bombing us again last night. Your dad was out all night helping to put out the fires started down on the docks by the incendiaries. The Dock Board offices and Cunard’s were both hit, and then there was that awful thing down by the railway arches in Bentinck Street. Your dad says they still don’t know how many people who were sheltering under those arches got killed when they collapsed.’
‘Just when we were thinking that Hitler had finished with us,’ Grace agreed.
Jean patted her daughter’s hand. Grace had only just escaped being a casualty of one of Hitler’s bombs herself late in November when she and Seb had been caught in the Durning Technical School bomb blast.
‘I’d better get back, Mum,’ Grace told her mother, ‘otherwise I’ll be late going on duty, and you can imagine how busy we are.’
‘Well, you take care of yourself, remember?’ Jean gave her a fierce hug.
‘And you, Mum. Are you going home now?’
‘Not yet. Whilst I’ve got Katie with me we’re going to nip over to St John’s Market so that I can get me turkey and a few other things.’
Grace laughed. It was a standing joke in the family that Jean complained every year that the poulterer from whom she ordered her turkey always got the size wrong, resulting in Jean worrying about being able to get the bird into her oven.
To get to the market Jean and Katie had to cross Ranelagh Street, where Lewis’s was, and go down the upper part of Charlotte Street, before crossing Elliot Street. St John’s Market ran back from Elliot Street, the whole length of the lower section of Charlotte Street, which divided it into two: the fish market to one
‘Values’, Katie had been about to say but they were too young for her to talk to them about that kind of thing, she decided, watching them grimace over the bedbugs and giggle that she was teasing them.
‘We can’t understand how you can leave something so glamorous to come here and sit all day reading letters,’ Lou told her.
‘No, if it was us you’d never get us doing what you’re doing,’ Sasha agreed.
‘That’s because you don’t know what it’s really like, and that means that you are very lucky,’ Katie told them firmly.
‘Well, we still want to be on the stage, don’t we, Sasha?’ Lou asked her twin.
‘Yes, we do,’ Sasha confirmed, ‘and we’re going to be, as well.’
Not if their parents had anything to do with it they weren’t, Katie thought. She didn’t blame Jean and Sam either, but the twins were stubborn and Katie suspected that the more they were told they couldn’t do something, the more they would want to do it.
FOUR
Saturday 21 December
‘Well, I must say, Mum, she does seem a decent sort,’ Grace Campion told her mother generously.
Grace had initially felt rather jealous when her mother had spoken so enthusiastically to her about this girl who was billeted with Grace’s parents, but now having met Katie Grace had to admit that she had liked her.
The three of them had gone for a cup of tea at Lyons Corner House, Jean having decided that it was best that Grace met Katie on neutral ground.
Tactfully Katie had now gone off to do some shopping, leaving mother and daughter to talk on their own.
‘She won’t be going home for Christmas so she’ll be having her Christmas dinner with us. I’m hoping that our Luke will get leave to be home. I’ll miss you, Grace love, but it’s only natural that Seb’s family want to meet you.’
‘We’ll be back to see in the New Year with you, Mum. Then I’m on nights again.’
‘You’ll have been busy today, love, with Hitler bombing us again last night. Your dad was out all night helping to put out the fires started down on the docks by the incendiaries. The Dock Board offices and Cunard’s were both hit, and then there was that awful thing down by the railway arches in Bentinck Street. Your dad says they still don’t know how many people who were sheltering under those arches got killed when they collapsed.’
‘Just when we were thinking that Hitler had finished with us,’ Grace agreed.
Jean patted her daughter’s hand. Grace had only just escaped being a casualty of one of Hitler’s bombs herself late in November when she and Seb had been caught in the Durning Technical School bomb blast.
‘I’d better get back, Mum,’ Grace told her mother, ‘otherwise I’ll be late going on duty, and you can imagine how busy we are.’
‘Well, you take care of yourself, remember?’ Jean gave her a fierce hug.
‘And you, Mum. Are you going home now?’
‘Not yet. Whilst I’ve got Katie with me we’re going to nip over to St John’s Market so that I can get me turkey and a few other things.’
Grace laughed. It was a standing joke in the family that Jean complained every year that the poulterer from whom she ordered her turkey always got the size wrong, resulting in Jean worrying about being able to get the bird into her oven.
To get to the market Jean and Katie had to cross Ranelagh Street, where Lewis’s was, and go down the upper part of Charlotte Street, before crossing Elliot Street. St John’s Market ran back from Elliot Street, the whole length of the lower section of Charlotte Street, which divided it into two: the fish market to one
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