War Babies by Annie Murray

stop them. She wasn’t being packed off anywhere on his say-so!
    ‘No, Fred – they’re only talking about the young children,’ Peggy said in a weary voice. Her pregnancy was very much on show now and she was tired and resentful. None of
it seemed real to Rachel – not that there was actually a baby in there. ‘They don’t send away the ones who’re out of school.’
    How much Fred Horton would love to be rid of her, Rachel thought! He wouldn’t have to bother with her then, the cuckoo in his nest who had to be fed and clothed. And now, with another
child on the way who was actually his flesh and blood, how very much more she was in the way. But he wasn’t going to be able to!
    ‘Huh,’ he said. ‘I s’pose we’ll have to find her a decent job somewhere. There’s no need to look at me like that, wench – find some manners!’
    Her thoughts must have been written on her glowering face.
Anywhere, so long as it’s away from you.
    Within days of her starting at Bird’s in August, there was an air-raid practice. When the howling alarm went off, they all trooped down into the enormous basement which was now to be an
air-raid shelter.
    ‘Ooh, sign of things to come,’ one of the women said as they stood waiting in the dank underground space. ‘I hope they’re going to bring something down to sit
on.’
    War was coming daily closer it seemed and the factory was even busier than usual.
    ‘Orders are pouring in,’ Miss Pike said. ‘You’ve never seen anything like it. Everyone’s stocking up in case of shortages.’
    The days were very busy and Rachel found that time flew without her needing to watch the hands of the big clock on the office wall. There was not much time to think of anything else as she put
papers and documents in order in the huge filing cabinets. By the end of each day, despite the sensible black lace-up shoes Peggy had insisted on buying, her feet were aching and she was longing to
sit down. But she liked the job – it was all right. Anything was better than hanging around at home.
    At the end of one afternoon, once she had picked up her things and gone down the stone steps out into the late-afternoon sunshine, she saw a figure standing a little way along Gibb Street. Her
heart picked up speed. Tall and thin, leaning up against the wall in a way she instantly recognized: Danny.
    As she drew closer along the narrow street amid the other hurrying workers, she saw him spot her. He immediately slouched even more against the wall, as if trying to look nonchalant. He pulled
his cap down further and pretended to examine his fingers.
    ‘Hello!’ she said. ‘What’re you doing here?’ Surely there was no other reason he could be here? Was he really waiting for her?
    He looked up, solemn-faced. ‘Oh, hello,’ he said, as if he had not especially been expecting to see her there, though he must have been. Suddenly he dragged his hat from his head.
‘All right, are yer?’
    ‘Yes. I’m doing all right. Working here –’ She held her arm out towards the Bird’s works.
    ‘Auntie said.’
    ‘I’ll still be coming to the market Sat’d’ys,’ she said.
    Danny seemed to take this in, and gave a nod. There was a silence. A stream of other people were moving past them. The silence went on. Danny seemed to have stalled. Why was he here? But Rachel
sensed that something had changed. Now that she had left school things felt different. These days, they were both in the grownup world of work.
    ‘Do you . . .’ he brought out eventually. ‘D’you like fish and chips?’
    ‘Do I . . . ?’ Rachel laughed. ‘Yes! Why?’
    ‘Well, I thought we could get some.’
    ‘Haven’t you had enough of fish?’ she teased.
    Danny gave her a look. ‘We don’t eat it. We just push it about. D’you want some or not?’
    Rachel thought. Her mother would be expecting her home for her tea. Mom’s moods were very uncertain these days. But Danny meeting her, asking her to come with him – of