大象传媒

My father was a serving soldier during the war, which left myself, still then an only child, at home with my mother. Because of this, and probably because we had spare bedroom capacity we were required to take in lodgers.

In our case, the lodgers were two Irish girls, named Jessie and Josie. They were recruited to augment the factory labour force depleted by male conscription. We lived near Birmingham, then heavily industrialised, but I suppose they might have been required for munitions work.

From the outset, they were probably an ill matched pair, as they had such different personalities. I remember Jessie having a fondness for make-up, and an abundance of auburn hair, which seemed to contrast well with the green wrap around factory overall she wore always having the oily factory smell about it. After work she became the "good time" girl.

The venue for good times was the local dance hall, conveniently situated just over the road from where we lived. It was popular with American soldiers who must have been based quite near, but I鈥檓 not sure where. Likewise, the American soldiers were popular with the girls not least because of their generosity with gifts of nylons, a much prized commodity in austere wartime days.

As children living in the days of double summertime, my friends and I were attracted to the dance hall as by some huge magnet. Naturally for us, there was strictly no admittance, but we compensated for this by craning our necks to view the frantic activity going on within, through a conveniently situated end window. We watched in wonder the current dance crazes for jive and jitterbug being energetically performed, half wishing we were old enough to participate, but alas as dusk fell, we returned home to our waiting beds, knowing full well to expect no rest, until the strains of "The Last Waltz" drifted across the night air.

Soon it became apparent that Jessie鈥檚 days in our house were numbered. Rather a lot of what mother would term as undesirable male callers began to appear at the door. Our house was a "respectable" house. Jessie departed.

That left Josie. Josie was a country girl at heart, very homesick for Ireland, where I believe she came from a large family. In appearance she was the opposite of Jessie, being quite short and plump with long, straight dark hair, not much given to artifice, and sporting the same dark green overall on work days. The oily factory smell must have permeated hair and skin of both girls.

Josie was a devout Catholic. I remember her with a brown beaded rosary. On Sundays, she made her way to the nearby Roman Catholic Church, almost in juxtaposition with the dance hall; but the latter held no attraction for Josie. She preferred the homely hearth, and would quite happily "babysit" with me whilst mother enjoyed a night out with a neighbour at the local cinema.

We lived in the days of "blackout", when it was an offence to show even the merest chink of light at night. Blackout wardens would patrol at night to ensure this rule was strictly enforced. Anyone caught flouting this rule was reminded in no uncertain terms to "Put that light out!"

The "blackout" could be quite a cosy time for Josie and me. It meant I could curl up on her lap, in just the glow of the firelight, and she would tell me stories or sometimes even sing me to sleep.

Eventually she left us. I don鈥檛 know whether her stay was over, or she was just too homesick for Ireland, but although gone, she didn鈥檛 forget us. Following her return to Ireland, we were rewarded with a gift of Irish butter, which tasted doubly delicious to us, living with the restrictions of rationing. I was the proud recipient of an emerald-green crepe handkerchief, beautifully embroidered with a shamrock and Irish harp, in gold thread. Of course it was much too grand and uncomfortable ever to be purposefully used, but remained a treasured possession for some time.

Dear Josie! I will always remember her. It鈥檚 possible she鈥檚 still alive, but she would be quite an old lady now. I like to think of her happily reunited with her family in Ireland, and possibly having a family of her own, which I鈥檓 sure she would have loved.

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