‘There
must have been a couple of hundred of us there, all WVS,
and there were some Red Cross nurses too. The Queen’s
ever so pretty - smaller than you’d think from her pictures,
with gorgeous blue eyes - and she was so interested. D’you
know what I heard her say? “Sunshine will come again,” she
said. Don’t you think that’s lovely? She couldn’t talk to
everyone, of course, but she managed to have a few words
with quite a lot. And they did so much during the day. They
went and looked at some of the bombed areas down
Commercial Road, and the Guildhall, and some of the
ordinary streets as well, and she saw our Clothing Depot,
and the billeting people, and the welfare offices, and then
they went and had lunch on the Victory.’
‘Oh, that must have been lovely,’ Alice broke in. ‘And
nice for the King, too, him having been in the Navy.’
‘Well, I don’t think he was ever on a ship like the Victory,’ Polly said with a grin. ‘And after that, he went to see the Gunnery School and she came on to the hospital and
some of the First-Aid Posts. They were on the go all day.’
She was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘I think she’s
right about dressing up, you know. It wouldn’t have been so
special if they’d come in old clothes - even if they’ve got
any! And it does make you feel better, knowing someone like that’s taken the trouble to look nice for you. It makes you
feel as though you matter to them.’
‘Yes,’ Judy agreed. She was still grieving for Sean, still
thought about him all the time, still felt cheated of all they
might have known and had together. But Polly was right,
she thought. ‘It does make you feel better.’
‘That bit about sunshine coming again,’ Alice said after a
moment. She looked at the two faces, showing the same
sorrow, and her own face softened in sympathy. ‘It’s true,
you know. You can’t go on without letting in a bit of
sunshine now and again. You’ve got to start living again.
You’ve got to.’
Chapter Eight
The raids continued, although all through January and
February the concentration was on other cities. Bristol, Plymouth and Swansea all came under heavy attack, and all along the south coast the sirens went night after night,
sending people to the shelters to sit listening to the snarl of German bombers overhead, and wonder where they were
making for.
The firewatcher’s post on the hotel roof had been taken
over by the Royal Observers’ Corps. Judy had noticed the
young men in their RAF uniforms coming in and out
several times before she found herself in the lift with one, on her way to the fifth floor with a message. He was tall, with
fair hair and blue eyes and a nice smile, and she smiled back
and asked, ‘What is it you’re doing up there? Looking out
for enemy aircraft?’
‘That’s right,’ he said. He touched the badge on, his arm.
It showed a Spitfire in flight. ‘The RAF advertised for chaps
like me who are keen on spotting aircraft, so I applied and
here I am.’ He grinned. ‘It’s like a dream come true, sitting
up there in the best place in Southsea, looking for
aeroplanes. I used to do it for a pastime and now I’m
helping the war effort as well!’
Judy looked at him, so clean and smart in his uniform,
obviously enjoying himself on the roof of a nice building,
with nothing uncomfortable or difficult to do, and thought
of the pilots who risked their lives every day in the air, and
the sailors like Sean and Johnny, who died horrible deaths at
sea. ‘Nice work if you can get it,’ she said tartly.
‘Well, someone’s got to do it!’ he said jocularly, and then
caught the note in her voice. ‘Look, I know it must seem a
cushy number - and maybe it is, compared with what some
poor blighters have to do - but it’s essential work just the
same. We’re the ones who spot the aircraft first and identify
them so that others can shoot them down and stop
must have been a couple of hundred of us there, all WVS,
and there were some Red Cross nurses too. The Queen’s
ever so pretty - smaller than you’d think from her pictures,
with gorgeous blue eyes - and she was so interested. D’you
know what I heard her say? “Sunshine will come again,” she
said. Don’t you think that’s lovely? She couldn’t talk to
everyone, of course, but she managed to have a few words
with quite a lot. And they did so much during the day. They
went and looked at some of the bombed areas down
Commercial Road, and the Guildhall, and some of the
ordinary streets as well, and she saw our Clothing Depot,
and the billeting people, and the welfare offices, and then
they went and had lunch on the Victory.’
‘Oh, that must have been lovely,’ Alice broke in. ‘And
nice for the King, too, him having been in the Navy.’
‘Well, I don’t think he was ever on a ship like the Victory,’ Polly said with a grin. ‘And after that, he went to see the Gunnery School and she came on to the hospital and
some of the First-Aid Posts. They were on the go all day.’
She was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘I think she’s
right about dressing up, you know. It wouldn’t have been so
special if they’d come in old clothes - even if they’ve got
any! And it does make you feel better, knowing someone like that’s taken the trouble to look nice for you. It makes you
feel as though you matter to them.’
‘Yes,’ Judy agreed. She was still grieving for Sean, still
thought about him all the time, still felt cheated of all they
might have known and had together. But Polly was right,
she thought. ‘It does make you feel better.’
‘That bit about sunshine coming again,’ Alice said after a
moment. She looked at the two faces, showing the same
sorrow, and her own face softened in sympathy. ‘It’s true,
you know. You can’t go on without letting in a bit of
sunshine now and again. You’ve got to start living again.
You’ve got to.’
Chapter Eight
The raids continued, although all through January and
February the concentration was on other cities. Bristol, Plymouth and Swansea all came under heavy attack, and all along the south coast the sirens went night after night,
sending people to the shelters to sit listening to the snarl of German bombers overhead, and wonder where they were
making for.
The firewatcher’s post on the hotel roof had been taken
over by the Royal Observers’ Corps. Judy had noticed the
young men in their RAF uniforms coming in and out
several times before she found herself in the lift with one, on her way to the fifth floor with a message. He was tall, with
fair hair and blue eyes and a nice smile, and she smiled back
and asked, ‘What is it you’re doing up there? Looking out
for enemy aircraft?’
‘That’s right,’ he said. He touched the badge on, his arm.
It showed a Spitfire in flight. ‘The RAF advertised for chaps
like me who are keen on spotting aircraft, so I applied and
here I am.’ He grinned. ‘It’s like a dream come true, sitting
up there in the best place in Southsea, looking for
aeroplanes. I used to do it for a pastime and now I’m
helping the war effort as well!’
Judy looked at him, so clean and smart in his uniform,
obviously enjoying himself on the roof of a nice building,
with nothing uncomfortable or difficult to do, and thought
of the pilots who risked their lives every day in the air, and
the sailors like Sean and Johnny, who died horrible deaths at
sea. ‘Nice work if you can get it,’ she said tartly.
‘Well, someone’s got to do it!’ he said jocularly, and then
caught the note in her voice. ‘Look, I know it must seem a
cushy number - and maybe it is, compared with what some
poor blighters have to do - but it’s essential work just the
same. We’re the ones who spot the aircraft first and identify
them so that others can shoot them down and stop
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