Chapter 9

9

POOLE – FEbrUARY 1941

Peggy, Nora and Eileen worked together like a well-oiled machine to get the launch ready for their first trip of the day. The morning was bright and the sky blue, but the choppy water of the harbour showed the reason for the bite in the air. They'd be fighting a cold wind today. Peggy became aware of steps drawing closer and looked up to the quay to see a young man had arrived and was watching them work. He wore the uniform of the Home Guard, which was unusual in one so young, Peggy thought.

‘Good morning,' Peggy called, cheerily.

‘Good morning, ladies,' the man offered, tipping his cap. ‘Can I help you with your line?' he asked, laying his hand on the large cleat on the quayside as Peggy made a move towards the steps to cast them off.

‘The girls and I can manage quite well, but if you'd like to help, you're welcome,' she said. ‘Do you know your way around a mooring cleat, then?' she asked with a hint of tease in her glance towards him.

‘I most certainly do. I'm a dockworker and I've been running a launch like this on the Thames. Just moved to Poole to find lodgings. So many places getting bombed out in London, a room is hard to find now,' he offered.

The captain of the launch cocked her head and looked him over appraisingly, in a way she would never have done for fear of causing offence to a man before the war. Before everything had changed.

‘I've seen you making your way up and down the quay. That limp doesn't hold you up much, does it?' she asked him, and he stood more upright, as if aware that he might be seriously considered for work here.

‘No, it doesn't hold me up at all. I've had it all my life, and I can do most things, except run, of course. But they didn't want me in the army with it, so I'm Home Guard. I'm working as a dockhand over on the other quayside,' he said pointing to the Hamworthy side. ‘But I'm really looking for work on a boat if I can get it.'

‘What's your name? I'll put a word in for you with the boss. Goodness knows we are short-handed, and there's more work all the time. I've just started doing some driving as well as running the launch so we could use a spare pair of hands, I'm sure.'

‘My name's Charlie. Charlie Edwards.'

‘Pleased to meet you, Charlie. I'm Peggy Symonds. Where can I reach you?'

He gave Peggy the address of his boarding house with Mrs Rogers, then bid them farewell as he threw down the neatly coiled dock line into the front of the launch and Peggy got set to race off out to the middle of the harbour with her two crewmates.

‘He's nice, Peggy,' cooed Nora with a wink and nudge to Eileen as they pulled away from the quay and out of earshot from the handsome young man Peggy had struck up a conversation with. ‘You've already got Australian Darrell at the dance hall as your man, and now you'll have chirpy Charlie, too.' She giggled, and all three girls laughed.

‘Darrell is not my man , and Charlie is simply a willing pair of hands who seems to know his way around a boat. Settle down, ladies, I'm thinking of the business here,' she said with a mock-stern tone, though Peggy did really want to discourage their ideas that she was becoming something of a flirt. She changed the subject as quickly as she could.

‘You seemed to be getting pretty pally with our Samuel in the pub last night, anyway, Nora. I'll have you know we have very high standards for our little brother.' She laughed, poking Nora in the ribs.

Samuel had come home on leave as promised, and though it had only been for the standard seventy-two hours, he had made the most of it, and thrilled his family with his happy smile and light-hearted disposition. He'd made a fuss of his mum's wonderful cooking, enjoying a Sunday roast with the family – though it was mostly vegetables from the garden and only a little bit of chicken – and he had been out for a couple of nights on the quay, where he'd taken notice of Nora for the first time.

‘He's grown ever so much more handsome since he started wearing that sailor's uniform, Peggy,' Nora replied. ‘Perhaps you and me, with Darrell and Samuel, will be making up a foursome sometime, hey? But what about Charlie?' pushed Nora again, annoying Peggy.

‘No, seriously, I'll simply let Pat know when we get back in later, and she can get in touch with him if she would like to talk to him about some work. That's all,' she said with a shrug of her shoulder, then turned back towards the C-class they were headed for that had just come in to land.

Peggy was keen to keep the girls quiet on the subject, but she did secretly like the sound of the way they called Darrell ‘her man', and she tried to hide a tiny smile as she thought of him now. He was lovely to look at, and gentlemanly in the way he treated her, and yet also relaxed and laid-back in a way she'd never known any English young man to be. He was confident without being cocky: sure of himself without being in any way stuck-up or proud. Darrell had told her as much as he was allowed to about the life of a pilot in the RAAF and the different types of missions he flew on from the RAF base in Poole Harbour.

Mostly they went on reconnaissance trips across the channel, out into the Atlantic and down into the Bay of Biscay, looking for enemy ships and submarines so they could report their positions back to the British control. But, from time to time, they were caught up in real action and though a Short Sunderland was not built as a fighter, it had guns installed and would shoot an enemy ship or plane if necessary. Once, he had told her, they had come across a merchant navy ship that had been hit by a torpedo. They had flown down to sink the submarine that had issued its deadly weapon, and then circled back and landed near the flailing British ship, taking on board the sailors who had bailed out and would have been lost on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean had Darrell and his crew not been there.

The idea that Darrell's role was to protect England's ships and shores, and even to rescue the English sailors, filled Peggy's heart with warmth and soothed her soul like a balm of honey. Her brother, Samuel, seemed safer than he had done before, now she knew there were airmen like Darrell looking out for him. And so, without even really trying, Darrell had become a source of strength and hope for her.

And the way he made her laugh was like a bright shaft of sunlight on a dim and gloomy day. He didn't even have to be trying to tell a joke, but there was something in the positive way he saw the funny side in the silliest of situations that made Peggy laugh, filling her soul with food like sweetmeats from heaven, in these dry and restricted times of rationing. He had spent a few evenings with her at the Antelope and had danced most of the night last Saturday with her, and then walked her home. But this week, he must have been out on a series of missions as she hadn't seen him for days. There hadn't been as many of the Australian airmen around town, generally. Still, today was Friday, and she hoped she might see him again tonight. There were a few questions about his home and his future that she'd begun to wonder about.

Later that morning, when she had delivered her passengers to Salterns Marina and put the launch away, she nipped in to see Pat about Charlie.

‘He seems genuine enough, Pat, and it would be good to have a strong man around for some of the heavier lifting jobs,' Peggy said, as she put the launch key back on its hook and warmed her hands by the little coal fire.

‘But what about that limp of his, Peggy? Surely he isn't that able-bodied, else they'd have him in the army,' asked Pat with concern.

‘He says he's had it since he was a kid, and it doesn't bother him at all. Polio, I suppose. But the recruiting officers thought it would slow him down, so he's on Home Guard. It really is only a slight limp and doesn't seem to cause him pain. He doesn't have any trouble at all walking, or with balance, and his upper body looks strong enough to me,' Peggy said thoughtfully.

‘Had a good look at his muscles, did you?' teased Pat.

‘Not you as well, Pat. I've already had this from Eileen and Nora.' She laughed. ‘No, honestly, I just think he'd be a great worker. He must be – hauling sacks and crates in and out of ships' holds on the main dock over there.'

‘You're right, Peggy, I'm only teasing you. I think he'll be a great help. I'll send a note to ask him to come in for a proper chat. What's up for you next?'

‘Just popping in to see Rose Stevens at the pottery, to get the run-down on some driving jobs, then I'll be back in after lunch to go and meet the Clyde when she flies in. See you later,' Peggy called cheerily as she shut the door behind her.

As Peggy made the short walk from the harbour master's office to Poole Pottery where Rose Stevens and Major Carter were based, she heard the familiar sound of a Sunderland taking off and looked over to see the plane decked out in its red, white, and blue roundels, rising from the Hamworthy RAF runway. She stopped to raise a hand to her eyes and peer up at the cockpit, wondering if Darrell was flying this one. She smiled to herself and she remembered the way he had tenderly held her arm as if to protect her on their walk home from the dance last Saturday night. She wondered if he might be there again tomorrow.

‘Thanks for popping in, Peggy. There's lots going on at the moment so let's have a cup of tea and a sit-down so I can run through it all,' said Rose as she greeted Peggy and led her through to the passengers' tea lounge. Rose took out her dark-red, leather-bound ledger in which she recorded all the flights and the passenger lists, as well as the names of the seawomen who ran the launch to and from each flying boat and the crews that flew them in and out of Poole Harbour. She made a pot of tea and set it on a tray with two cups and saucers and a plate of biscuits, then carried the tray to Peggy, who was more than a little bit surprised – and delighted – to be given such special treatment.

‘You'll be driving some passengers from the train station up to the Harbour Heights Hotel early this evening, and then in the morning, they fly out on their way to Sydney, so you'll pick them up in the launch from Salterns Marina after they've had their breakfast at the hotel and someone from there has dropped them down to the marina for you,' Rose said as she put her cup back in the saucer and ran her finger down the ledger, looking at the plans for Friday.

‘And tomorrow afternoon, there will be a large delivery of cargo coming in, some for the hotel and some supplies going to RAF Sandbanks and RAF Hamworthy. So I've been sent some paperwork from London that I need to give you so they can grant you a special pass for access. The RAF business is quite separate from us here at BOAC of course, but it seems more and more that we are to be involved in the RAF's war effort here in Poole. I hear you might be on your way to getting your own special access to some parts of the RAAF though, Peggy,' teased Rose.

‘Not you as well, Rose.' Peggy giggled. ‘We've only had a dance and a few evenings together in the pub.'

‘But he does seem like a very lovely young man, don't you think?' asked Rose with a more motherly tone than before. ‘In times like these, I'd advise you to grab at any opportunity for happiness, Peggy. We don't know what tomorrow will bring.'

Both women sipped their tea silently for a few moments, remembering all those friends of theirs who had already lost husbands, brothers, and lovers. Peggy knew that Rose's own husband and brother-in-law were away in the war and the twin sisters lived together waiting for news of their safety, while Rose's twin Daisy was growing a baby at about the same rate as Peggy's sister Molly.

‘You're right, Rose. Today really might be all we have. And I agree, he does seem lovely. He's fun and caring. And solid – dependable too,' she mused.

‘And strong, I should think – looks like he'd be a great help around here with those muscles of his.' Rose laughed.

‘Actually, that reminds me. There's a man working on the docks – Charlie Edwards – arrived fairly recently in Poole from London, and he's got experience with boats. He's in the Home Guard – has a limp, which I think must be from polio from what he's said, and so he can't serve, which is good for us. We can train him up and know he would have a chance of staying, unlike all the other fellows around here. Patricia is going to see if she can get him some work on the launches and I wonder if he could help with the driving, or at least with the loading and unloading for us,' offered Peggy.

‘Which leg is it that has the limp? He would need a strong left leg to handle the clutch so that might stop him from driving. But extra muscles with those crates would be an enormous help,' said Rose. ‘I'll ask Pat to send him up to me if she takes him on, then I can check him out and give him a pass for the RAF bases too. You might have some company on the run tomorrow.'

Rose turned over the page in her book and tapped it with her pen.

‘Now, I'm not certain who they are, because I've not been given any names, but next week, there's a VIP coming in to the hotel, spending a day visiting places I've not been told the whereabouts of, and then flying off somewhere as yet to be discovered,' said Rose with an arch brow, which told Peggy this was the way of things these days. Major Carter, with his history of serving in the Great War, might be in charge of field security in the harbour now, but Rose was just his secretary at the pottery, not military personnel, and so was never privy to the details. So much was on a need-to-know basis, and apparently, neither Rose nor Peggy needed to know these details.

‘But Major Carter has asked for you, personally, to be the taxi driver and the launch pilot – on the day that I cannot yet name. I just wanted you to be aware that when you hear from Pat that you've been called for, you're not to swap your shift with any of the other girls,' said Rose.

‘Fair enough. Intriguing, but I shall not ask or probe. Loose lips and all that,' said Peggy, tapping a two-fingered salute to her temple as Rose shut the ledger with a thwump and stood to show Peggy out.

‘Absolutely. Both Major Carter and I know we can trust you on this. England is counting on us all to do our part.'