Free Henrietta Sees It Through by Joyce Dennys Page B

some sleepless nights.

 
    Â 
    Â 
    June 30, 1943
    M Y D EAR R OBERT
    A Queen of the W.V.S. came down to talk to us one day last week. I met Lady B hurrying down the Street that morning, so as to get her shopping done early before the meeting, and we walked along together. It was an unpleasant, cold, wet day, and everybody we met looked worried and hurried.
    â€˜The Shopping Face seems to have got worse lately,’ said Lady B, after Mrs Savernack had passed us, muttering, with a sort of gardening-basket-wheelbarrow pushed before her.
    I glanced in the large mirror which our grocer so kindly keeps in his window for the use of lady customers, and shuddered.
    â€˜I don’t mind waiting my turn,’ said Mrs Admiral, white with rage, coming out of the grocer’s at that moment, ‘but one day when some woman pushes her way forward, I shall Strike Her!’
    â€˜But you
promised
me liver,’ wailed little Mrs Simpkins in the butcher’s.
    â€˜No liver today, Madam,’ said Mr Bones, that patient man.
    â€˜Kidneys?’
    â€˜I’m sorry, Madam.’
    â€˜What do you
do
with your kidneys, Mr Bones?’ said little Mrs Simpkins. ‘Haven’t you a heart?’
    â€˜No heart,’ said Mr Bones sadly.
    Out in the Street, a cold, driving rain was falling. Mrs Whinebite poked her umbrella into my eye and said, ‘Do look where you are going, Henrietta.’
    â€˜Dear me,’ said Lady B. ‘What’s the matter with everybody this morning?’
    I looked at her. Her face under her W.V.S. hat was calm and untroubled. ‘Darling Lady B!’ I cried. ‘You are the onlyperson in the Street today who looks happy!’ and I threw my arms round her neck and kissed her.
    Mrs Savernack, bowling down the Street at a breakneck speed, caught us behind the knees with her gardening-basket-wheelbarrow, and we both fell to the ground.
    The pavement was wet and muddy. I have never seen Lady B so cross. ‘Is it really necessary to wheel that thing about in the Street?’ she said, wiping mud off her skirt with her handkerchief.
    â€˜Is it necessary to embrace in the middle of the pavement?’ said Mrs Savernack. ‘It’s time Henrietta learnt to control herself.’
    â€˜And don’t keep nagging at Henrietta,’ said Lady B, putting her hat straight, or, rather, at the right angle of crookedness. ‘A nice sight I shall look at the Inspection.’
    â€˜W.V.S. . . . Bah!’ said Mrs Savernack, who is not a member, and trundled away.
    When Lady B and I arrived, the hall was nearly full. I, who am what Charles calls the W.V.S. Dog’s Body, took a lowly seat at the back, and Lady B, who ought to have sat among the High-Ups, came with me. The hall smelt of wet mackintoshes, and I reflected, not for the first time, that there are more ways than one of wearing a W.V.S. hat.

    There are more ways than one of wearing a W.V.S. hat
    â€˜I’m not sure I shall stay,’ whispered my neighbour on the other side. ‘My feet are wet, and I hate to see women throwing their weight about.’
    Then there was a stir at the door, and Authority arrived, with Satellites. Authority looked absolutely stunning. I was so overcome that I instinctively rose to my feet, as we used to do at school when the headmistress came in to prayers. Lady B tugged me gently into my seat again.
    Authority, who somehow gave the impression that she was enjoying the whole thing, talked for twenty minutes with one eye on the clock. And, as she talked, a strange thing happened. We, the Ordinary Housewives, sat up and began to feel proud. This hasn’t happened much during the war. The Ordinary Housewife has gone her dazed way, being told to eat more of This and less of That, and then, almost directly afterwards, less of This and more of That; her proposed Journey, generally the result of a craving to get away from home, has been proved Unnecessary, and