Margaret thought for a moment. ‘No. I just want to get the first day, and night, over.’
‘Good. Go and make yourself a cup of tea. You have an hour before you need to be at your post.’
Margaret left the auditorium and made her way to the staff room. Once inside, she dropped into a chair. All she’d ever dreamed of was about to begin. Hauling herself to her feet, she crossed to the small table, picked up the kettle and gave it a shake. There was water in it. She struck a match, turned on the gas and lit the small ring before putting the kettle on it.
‘Hello, I’m Jenny.’
‘Ah!’ Margaret spun round to see a young woman standing behind her. ‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. I’m Margaret. How do you do?’
‘Better now there’s someone my age on the team.’
‘I expect most of the young women have been called up,’ Margaret said.
Jenny nodded. ‘You haven’t then?’
‘I’m married, so I’m not first dibs.’
‘Kids?’
‘No. You?’
‘Married? I wish! And I love kids,’ Jenny said wistfully. ‘I’m an aunt. My sister in Whitechapel’s got two girls, but it’s not the same as having your own, is it? She invites me over all the time, but with work and living in northwest London, I don’t get to see them very often. I don’t get to do much at all, except travel and work.’
‘Don’t you have a sweetheart; someone you’re walking out with?’
‘No. I’m not lucky in love – or anything else, it seems. I had my heart set on being a driver in the Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps, but I got turned down at the medical. I went to half a dozen recruitment offices and they all said the same: my eyesight’s rotten. I can’t remember the long word they used, but it’s to do with depth. Plan B is to join the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry. But to be a FANY you need driving experience and a first aid certificate before they’ll even look at you. But I won’t give up,’ Jenny said, taking off her coat.
Margaret felt sorry for her. She didn’t have anyone except her sister and nieces. At least she hadn’t mentioned any other family. ‘Tea?’ Margaret asked when the kettle began to whistle.
‘Please. I’ll get the milk.’ Jenny opened the cupboard above Margaret’s head. ‘There isn’t any sugar.’
‘That’s all right. I don’t take it,’ Margaret said, pouring the tea. She added milk to both cups and gave one to Jenny.
‘Thanks. Met any of the other usherettes?’ she asked, as they sat down.
‘No, you’re the first.’
Jenny laughed. ‘You’re in for a treat then.’
‘Why, what are they like?’
‘They’re a mixed bunch. A couple of the girls are married with kids. Their husbands are in the forces and their mothers look after the children while they work. They’re nice enough, but they go home as soon as the show comes down. There are a couple of older women, Miss Smith and Miss Timmins.’ Jenny winked. ‘Spinsters, if you know what I mean. They’ve lived and worked together for so long that they’ve grown to look like each other. You know, like dogs and their owners. They’ve been usherettes here for years. Well before Anton and Natalie Goldman’s time. They don’t mix with anyone and they don’t hang around after their shifts. Finished?’ she said, taking Margaret’s empty cup and putting it on the draining board next to her own. Before she sat down again she handed Margaret a maroon tabard. ‘So if you want a pal at the Prince Albert Theatre, you’re stuck with me.’
‘I can think of worse people to be stuck with,’ Margaret said, and they both laughed. Jenny was as dark as Margaret was fair and although they were similar in age, Jenny looked older. She had a bigger bust and hips – and by the way she spoke, she was more worldly-wise.
Over the next few nights Margaret got to know and like Jenny. Bill liked her too. He’d met her when he called to take Margaret home on her first night as an usherette. The two friends had left the theatre giggling. Bill told Margaret later that he was pleased she’d found a friend her own age. He said Jenny looked as if she was fun – and would be good for her.
Jenny had latched onto Margaret as soon as they’d met – and thank goodness she had. Margaret had nothing in common with the two older women, or with the married girls. The older women didn’t speak to her and the married ones only talked about babies. Margaret confided in Jenny that she sometimes felt guilty because she didn’t want a baby. ‘Bill wanted to start a family when he got the job as document carrier with the Ministry of Defence. He said I’d be lonely while he was away in London. He thought a baby would keep me occupied, so I wouldn’t miss him so much. But…’ Margaret fell silent.
‘But what?’
‘I had other plans.’ What she was about to tell Jenny she hadn’t told anyone, not even her older sister Bess who she never kept secrets from. ‘If I tell you, will you promise not to tell anyone?’
Jenny nodded. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’
Margaret took a deep breath. ‘I promised Bill that if he let me come to London and get a job in a theatre, I’d go back to the Midlands with him and start a family as soon as the war’s over.’
Jenny sighed. ‘Poor Bill! Never mind, they say it’ll be
