to
start with.’
‘One pig?’ Laura was sorting through a pile of temporary
ration books to be issued to people who had lost theirs in the
bombing.
‘One bin, twerp!’ Judy threw a screwed-up scrap of paper
at her and Laura caught it and threw it back.
‘I hope you weren’t going to waste that - it’ll do for one
of your collections.’ They made faces at each other, grinned
and went back to their tasks, feeling more light-hearted.
The next special visitors were the King and Queen
themselves. Judy, in a flurry of nerves, made Polly help her
drag in the small tin bath the night before, muttering to each
other that it would be a good thing when the potatoes could
be harvested and the big bath returned to its proper use.
They poured in hot water from kettles and added some bath
salts Polly had been given for Christmas. Judy got in first,
luxuriating in the pleasure of having a bath on a Wednesday
instead of the usual Friday or Saturday. Then she got out
again and Polly got in, followed by Alice, Cissie and finally
Dick. ‘We might as well all have a treat,’ Alice said. ‘No
sense wasting the hot water.’
With their hair newly washed and set with Amami lotion,
Judy and Polly joined the rest of the staff and volunteers at the hotel early next morning to receive the Royal visitors.
The King, looking serious but ready with a shy, friendly
smile, was wearing Naval uniform - he’d actually served
during the Great War, Polly whispered to Judy, and been in
the Battle of Jutland. The Queen was in a dark costume,
with a hat that was swept up away from her face, four rows
of pearls around her neck and a fur stole draped over her
arms.
All the bigwigs were there too — the Lord Mayor and
Lady Mayoress, of course, Admiral Sir William James the
Commander-in-Chief of Portsmouth, Brigadier Harter,
Major-General Hunton, Colonel Walker and the Town
Clerk. The men bowed deeply and the Mayoress dropped a
graceful curtsey. As they passed the staff, the latter all
bowed or curtseyed as well, most of them terrified that they
would fall over or get their hair caught in someone’s
buttons. As the door of the Mayor’s office closed behind the
visitors, the staff heaved a general sigh of relief.
‘She looks just like a film star!’ Judy exclaimed. ‘Did you
see those pearls? And that fur — it must have been real
mink!’
‘I can’t see why she needs to dress up like that,’ remarked
Eileen Hall, who didn’t really like royalty. ‘Especially when
she’s going to see people who’ve been bombed out and got
nothing. It’s just flaunting herself and all her money.’
‘No, it’s not.’ Polly was an avid follower of the Royal
Family. ‘They can’t help being rich, and if they’ve got nice
clothes they might as well wear them. Anyway, she says that
if people go to see her they dress up in their best, so why
shouldn’t she do the same?’
‘Oh, know her personally, do you?’ Eileen sneered, and
Polly flushed angrily.
‘No, I read it in the paper, and so could you have done if
you didn’t have your head buried in penny romances all the
time. Anyway, I’ve got work to do and we’d better not start
yelling at each other or they’ll hear us in there and a fine impression of Pompey that’ll give them!’
They went back to their desks, the excitement of the
morning slightly dimmed by the squabble. Polly felt angry
with herself for letting Eileen get under her skin. I ought to
learn to ignore her, she thought as she tried to sort out lists for the salvage collections, a job she had taken over from
Judy who was now busy helping the Mayoress with the
Clothing Depot. All the WVS staff and volunteers were
extra busy that morning, as they were all going to St Mary’s
Hospital in the afternoon to meet the Queen again as part of
her tour.
‘It was lovely,’ Judy told her mother that evening as they
sat round the supper-table eating bubble and squeak.
Cynthia Hand
A. Vivian Vane
Rachel Hawthorne
Michael Nowotny
Alycia Linwood
Jessica Valenti
Courtney C. Stevens
James M. Cain
Elizabeth Raines
Taylor Caldwell