Lover (34 page)

It was Joe's. He'd got the tattoo when he was in the navy. Dora always said it looked common. She never liked him to roll up his shirt sleeves in case someone saw. Even when I came round, if he'd been doing something in the house, because he was good that way, she'd say to him, ‘Put yourself straight, we've got company.' I could see him in my mind's eye, whole, with a hammer in his hand and a mouthful of nails, and I thought: where's the rest of him? Could he still be alive with his arm ripped away like that? There wasn't no material on it, no shirt or anything. I suppose it must have been blasted off him when the bomb came down. It sounds stupid now, but I thought, Dora wouldn't like people to see that. I ought to cover it with something, but of course there wasn't anything, and the next minute the noise started again, and I curled tight into a ball on the floor with this stuff—bricks and plaster and wood—raining down on me. I can tell you, I've never prayed harder in my life than I did then.

When it stopped it was all pitch black again, and I couldn't find the torch, so I felt about a bit with my hands, very gently, and it seemed to me I was underneath this sort of criss-cross arrangement of floorboards and beams like a tent, but flatter, with not even enough space to sit up. I couldn't see Mrs Everley any more, or Joe's arm, which was a blessing, but then it dawned on me that the whole block was directly above my head, two storeys' worth perched on top of my little wooden tent, and it could all come down on me at any moment. And of course I was in the bedroom, so if the rescue wanted to come through where the door had been, there was the front room to get through first, and from what I'd seen in the doorway, that wasn't going to happen for a while. I started thinking, supposing it all falls in before they come? I'll be crushed.

I thought, it's like a grave I'm in, a tomb, because it was, just like it, so I said to myself, pull yourself together you silly cow, they've got to have the rescue men out there, looking. But I'd got all these thoughts running through my head: what if it's just my legs or my chest that get crushed? What if I don't die quick? What if there's gas? I had a sniff, but I couldn't smell anything, and then I suddenly thought: what if the whole street's been hit? The shelter? Tommy and Dora? I said, ‘Dear God, I'll give my life willingly if you'll only save my Tommy. Let him live, let him not be hurt, and you can do what you like with me.' And in the back of my mind, all the time, I'm waiting for it to happen, but then I'm calling out, ‘Help!' and ‘Down here!' just in case, you know…but at the same time I'm imagining these bricks falling down on me, smashing my arms and legs, and praying, ‘Let it be quick, please God, let it be quick,' and all these pictures were going through my mind: Mrs Everley, and Joe's arm, and poor Mrs Mitten clutching Mr Mitten's metal nose, and the rescue man telling me how he was all in pieces like a jigsaw, and imagining this whole heap of stuff on top of me, toppling over, just ready to come crashing down…

Well, after a while—I couldn't tell you how long, because I think I was in a daze—an old hymn suddenly came into my mind, one of those we used to sing at school. So I thought, let's see if I can remember it, and I'm warbling away to myself, very quiet, just to try and raise my spirits a bit:
The Lord's my shepherd, I'll not want, He maketh me down to lie, In pa-a-stures green, He leaea-deth me, The qui-i-et waters by
…but then I got to the bit about death's dark vale and I thought, blimey, this is no good, I've got to think of something a bit more cheerful than this. So then I tried ‘Onward Christian Soldiers', and that was a bit jollier, except I could only remember one verse and the chorus. ‘Lead, kindly light, amidst the encircling gloom' didn't do me a lot of good, and then ‘Rock of Ages'—well, the only words I could remember for that was the bit about
While I draw this fleeting breath, When my eyelids close in death, When I soar through tracts unknown, See Thee on Thy judgement throne
… So that wasn't much comfort, either, and as for the bit about judgement, well!

I suppose I'd never thought about it much before. I mean, you don't when you're a child, you just sing the words, la, la, la, and never stop to think about what they mean, do you? So I lay there racking my brains in the pitch dark, and every so often, I called out ‘Help!' but the only hymns I could think of had words about death and darkness and judgement and all the rest of it, and in the end I said to myself, this is no bloody good, so I started off:
Joe brought his concertina, and Nobby brought the beer; And all the little nippers swung upon the chandelier; A blackout warden passing yelled, ‘Ma, pull down that blind; Just look at what you're showing' and we shouted ‘Never mind'; Ooh! Knees up Mother Brown, knees up Mother Brown; Come along dearie, let it go, ee-i, ee-i, ee-i-o…

You hear about these shelters in the east end where they do all that, singing, and I don't think I'd take to that at all, but it was a bit of comfort, and certainly better than nothing, so I carried on a bit—not loud, because I couldn't, but sort of half-singing, half-muttering to myself,
It's your blooming birthday, let's wake up all the town
.

That's when I heard tapping. Very soft, but different from any noise I'd heard before, so I'm shouting out, ‘Help! Down here! Help!' at the top of my voice. Well, nobody answered, so I shouted again, and I'm thinking,
please, let there be somebody there
, because I'd got my hopes right up, you know, as soon as I'd heard the tapping, and I thought, what if I've imagined it, and there's nobody there, or they can't hear me and they just leave me to die? So I'm yelling my head off, and every so often I stop and listen, and then I hear a man's voice, very faint, ‘Hello?'

‘I'm here! Down here! Come and get me, for God's sake!'

More tapping. I thought, right, Rene, don't panic. You'll be out of here, girl, you'll be all right, just keep calm…and I'm telling myself this, but then I'm thinking, what if they're going the wrong way, because it didn't seem to come any nearer, or what if they do the wrong thing and it all falls down? Then I hear, still very faint, ‘Who are you? What's your name?'

‘Tate! Rene Tate!'

‘Are you hurt?'

‘No, I'm all right! Just hurry up!'

‘Do you live here?'

‘No, that's Mrs Everley!'

‘What's that?'

‘
Mrs Everley
!'

‘Is she with you?'

‘She's here, but she's dead.'

‘What's that?'

‘
Dead
!'

‘Anyone else?'

‘No!'

‘We're coming for you… Can you still hear me?'

‘Yes!'

‘Don't move!'

‘I can't move, I'm trapped!'

‘Right—just stay there!'

I thought, I can hardly go anywhere, can I, you silly bugger? But I felt a lot better after that, or at least I did until I started hearing the planes again, and the guns, and then I just—oh, I can't explain. It about finished me, I can tell you, hearing that and thinking, that's it, the house'll come down and the shelter and Tommy and Dora…it's no good, I can't begin to tell you what that felt like, but I'll never forget it, never, lying down there in that tomb and thinking, that's it, I'm finished. And I'm screaming, I can hear myself, this noise coming out of me, screaming and wailing, and it was like…well, you're just so
alone
… I was in such a panic I could hardly breathe, and then there was more dust, a great choking fall of it, coming down between the planks, and I thought, next it'll be the bricks and that'll be it, and I couldn't think any more, not about songs or Tommy or Mrs Everley or anything, just that I was going to die, shut up in this tiny little place, all alone in the dark. If there is such a thing as hell, that's what it must be like, how I felt then.

Then there was silence for a bit, and more tapping, and eventually I could see a little bit of light through the wood, and after a while, I started to hear voices—not the words, just men talking to each other, and then I started to make out the odd word and I realised they weren't coming in from the top, as I'd thought, but from the side. And then I realised that they were sawing wood and taking out the bits and pieces to make a sort of tunnel, but from what I could see it was getting darker, not lighter, and there was more and more plaster dust trickling down on top of me—they couldn't help that, I suppose, but it felt like I was breathing it in, and it was choking me. So I turned my face as much to the ground as I could, but it was hard because the space was so little I was terrified I'd dislodge something, and that would be that.

I heard this odd sort of flapping noise, like heavy material, and I couldn't think what it was. I was getting these terrible cramps in my legs from being all screwed up in such a tiny space and more than anything else I wanted to straighten them out, but I knew I couldn't, so I was trying to get the singing going again, only this time in my head:
Knees up, Mother Brown, knees up, Mother Brown,
over and over, like that, but to be honest, this time it was all more like a dream—well, a nightmare, really— than anything else, and I thought, I'm going mad, they've left me here to go off my head…then suddenly I could see this little light coming from the planks beside my head, and there was a face there—a girl's face. She must have had a torch because I could just see her out of the corner of my eye, and it was the girl from the shelter, the one that gave me the look—the one with the airman, the handsome one—and I thought, this is it, I'm dead and she's dead too, and it's the judgement, like the hymns. This is what it's like, she's come to tell me I have to stay here for ever, and I've closed my eyes tight, and I'm waiting, but then I heard her say, ‘Hello, I'm Lucy. What's your name?'

I must have said something back, because then she says, ‘It's all right. The doctor wants you to have this tablet.'

‘Why aren't you in the shelter?'

‘I've been working in the canteen. The mobile one. If I can put my arm through this gap here, can you take the tablet in your hand?'

‘I'll try…'

‘Wait a minute… I'll shine the torch on my hand, so you can see. Can you put your hand out?' Then the light was dazzling me, and the next moment, I could feel the warmth of her hand on mine, through the grit, and I knew she must be real and not dead like I'd thought she was.

I said, ‘I don't know if I can swallow it,' because my throat was that dry.

She said, ‘They didn't give me any water. Do you want me to ask for some?'

‘No, don't go… I'll try.'

‘See if you can do it. It's ever so little.'

I did manage after a few tries, but it wasn't easy.

‘What was it?'

‘Morphia, I think. Just a little. It shouldn't be long, now. It's just…well, it's hard for them to make the hole any bigger without…you know…and none of the men could get through, so I said I'd come.'

‘You're very kind. I'd like it if…I mean, if you don't mind, but please, would you hold my hand?'

‘Of course I will. It's Miss Tate, isn't it? That's what they said.'

‘Yes, but don't call me Miss Tate; my name's Rene.'

‘Well, Rene, pleased to meet you.'

‘You too, dear. Shame it had to be like this.'

‘Yes, it is, rather.'

Then we had another great fall of plaster dust, and neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes because we had our heads down.

After a while, she said, ‘Are you all right?'

‘Yes.'

‘I must say, I'm jolly glad I didn't wash my hair last night.'

It was funny, really, her stretched out on the ground, and me all curled up, just with our hands touching through this little space, but so reassuring, it made me feel quite peaceful, really. I said to her, ‘Oh, it is nice, having someone to talk to. I've been down here ever such a long time.'

She said, ‘Yes, but it'll soon be over.'

‘People keep saying that, but no one's come.'

‘I'm here.'

‘Yes, dear. And I'm ever so grateful.'

All the time, I could feel her hand in mine, and she never let go, she just kept saying, ‘You'll be all right. They'll have you out.'

Then the tablet must have taken hold, because I started to feel a bit better, and I said, ‘Oh, thank you, thank you for staying with me.'

She said, ‘Now listen, Rene, if I can come in, you can come out. I can see you, with my torch, and you're slim, like me.'

I said, ‘Well, I don't know how you can make that out, with me all hunched up like this.'

She said, ‘I remember you, I've seen you before…' and I thought, oh, dear…but then she said, ‘I'm sorry if I…well, in the shelter, it was a bit of a night, you know.'

I said, ‘Don't you worry about that, dear, we're all human. You know there's a body down here, don't you? It's the woman who rents this flat. Behind me.'

‘Gosh…' She took a deep breath and said, ‘I'm rather glad they didn't tell me that.'

‘Well, it was very brave of you to come.'

‘Oh, nonsense.'

I must have drifted a bit then, I think, but after a while, we heard the man's voice, louder than before. ‘All right, miss?'

We both shouted, ‘Yes!'

‘Soon have you out, now. You better come back now, miss.'

I said, ‘Oh, you're not going?'

‘Well, I've got to. But they must have made the hole wide enough to fetch you out, so it can't be long. Tell you what, I'll be waiting with a cup of tea. How does that sound?'

‘It sounds like heaven. And you're an angel.' I gave her hand a squeeze before I let go, and I said, ‘Thank you.'