Hari finished work with a sigh of relief; she would be glad to get home and put her feet up. The bus waiting outside the gates of the munitions factory seemed airless as she climbed up the steps and sank thankfully into a seat.
‘Isn’t it awful about Doreen?’ A girl in a turban came and sat next to her and Hari could smell the explosive powder on her clothes. ‘And I hear you lost your friend as well in a bombing raid, bloody awful war. Kate was a lovely girl.’
‘Did you work with her?’ Hari asked, grateful to talk about Kate to someone… anyone—at least she was remembered by some of her other friends.
‘Aye, I worked with her, sometimes when we had no money we’d walk together to the station. A good girl was Kate, always a smasher, mind, even when she went blind in the explosion. I was told about the bombing of her house. Sad for them to all die like that and yet perhaps that’s what she would have wanted, them all together as a family.’
She held out her hand and Hari couldn’t help noticing it was stained yellow, even the girl’s nails were yellow; she looked strange, as if she had been dipped in a dye.
‘I’m Violet. I was trying to help Kate carry the powder when she was expecting but some of the other girls said she had to get along without help, that we couldn’t afford to carry anyone.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose I wouldn’t have been alive today if I’d gone with her. On the other hand I might have been able to push her out of the way or something. I’ll never know.’
Hari shook her hand warmly. ‘None of us will ever know,’ she said comfortingly, ‘I was in the same room as Kate and the family when the bomb fell and I was the only one to survive. An act of God, fate, a coincidence? We’ll never know.’
‘I lost my chap when the war started. About to lose my room too. The man of the house is coming home, too sick and old to stay in the war.’
The bus jerked to a stop at the railway station and Violet got up. ‘Sorry to be morbid. I’m going to Swansea, you go to Swansea as well don’t you?’
‘We’ll go together,’ Hari said. ‘It’s not nice to be alone when you have worries on your mind. Got a family?’
Violet shook her head. ‘No, they all lived in London, wiped out in the blitz. I was at college but when the war started I was sent to the munitions to work. I’ll stay at the hostel tonight.’
‘Come to tea with us,’ Hari said. It was an impulse, but the way Violet’s face lit up was a reward in itself. ‘I warn you there are loads of us living together.’
‘That will be a nice change,’ Violet said. ‘I’ll wash and brush up first. What time shall I come?’
‘As soon as you like,’ Hari said, ‘just as soon as you like.’
Violet proved good company and she made Jessie laugh. Georgie seemed taken with the girl in spite of her yellow skin toned down now with powder and sat close to her throughout the meal. Only Hari’s father remained quiet, absorbed in the news on the radio. He’d left the table and sat in a chair with his ear up against the set, his face grave.
Hari didn’t want to break up the happy atmosphere but at last she couldn’t help but slip over to his side and crouch near his chair. ‘What is it, Daddy?’ she whispered.
He looked at her doubtfully and then glanced towards Jessie. Anxiety gripped Hari and she shook her father’s arm. ‘What, tell me?’
‘A German plane has come down near Carmarthen; no news of the pilot.’
The group around the table fell silent at once. Hari cleared her throat and her eyes met Jessie’s.
‘It could be anyone,’ she said quickly, ‘there are bomber planes over the coast most nights, you know that.’
In spite of her usual reserve Hari broke down and cried, for Michael and Meryl, for Kate, but most of all for herself.