Play@YSDC

Phyllis Cruckshank's House, Islington - London, England
5:30 AM - Sunday, September 8, 1940

Phyllis Cruckshank returned to her house, which was thankfully undamaged, with Maggie Duncan accompanying her. "I just keep thinking about poor Nell Murrow," she said.

OOC,Since the house is yours, feel free to describe it.

Phyllis Cruckshank brought out some keys from her handbag and opened the door to her home on Gibson Square; a late Georgian house with five floors, it wasn't exactly small. "I don't know, Maggie, now that Jane's gone to work in munitions I'm rattling around in this old place and I can't keep up with the dust." They pass the parlour which has dust sheets over the furniture and into the drawing room. "Oh this is so cold, let's go down to the kitchen, at least it's warm."

They trapse down to the kitchen on the lower floor where the oil fired rayburn is burning merrily away. "I'm thinking about getting Lodgers." says Phyllis as she collects some breakfast bits together and proceeds to make bacon and eggs. "It's only bacon ends I'm afraid but the eggs are fresh; next door has six Rhode Islands, they lay ever so well, even through the winter."

Soon the table is laid with food and Phyllis brings hot toast over from the rayburn. "They were a rum lot last night weren't they? That German soldier was the least strange of all of them. That's the trouble with the shelters, you mix with all sorts. Most of them pleasent enough I dare say, although the girl Anna had a bit of a mouth on her. They were all a bit, occult, to me. Here have some marg, I can't abide the stuff, rather go without."

"Thank you, Phyllis," said Maggie, accepting the margarine and spreading it on the bread. "I've gotten used to it by now. The butter ration's too small to have it more than once in a while. Getting lodgers is a good thought, especially now. People who were bombed out last night will need a place to stay."

"Yes, I think I will ask the Reverand to make a discreet announcement at the end of the sermon today. They would have to be the right sort of people of course." Phyllis pours out more tea. "Once we're done I suppose we'd better head back to the church."

"Good idea," said Maggie. "Do you suppose that poor lass who passed on has family? Might be good to try to find out and comfort them. It's a pity there's no body. I doubt there's enough left of her to bury after that warehouse was flattened. I wonder what she was doing there."

"Up to no good, I'll be bound." Says Phyllis darkly. "We could drop by her house on the way to the church maybe, or the warehouse. I suppose we'd better get on our way." She bustles around briefly, clearing up and putting away. "Are you ready Maggie?"

"Aye, I'm ready," said Maggie. She and Phyllis set out and soon reached the Whitechapel address where Nell Murrow had lived. It was a boarding house, poor but not too shabby. There had been some bomb damage further down the street, but the house was intact. Tape crisscrossed the windows, which were still covered with blackout curtains, though the sun was now risen. Milk and the morning newspaper had been delivered, but they had not been taken inside yet.

"That milk will go sour if left there much longer. We could just knock." Without waiting for an answer, Phyllis walks up the steps and bangs the door with the cast iron knocker. "It's rather shabby. I suppose the tape's a good idea to stop glass flying about but it really does look a mess." She waits, listening intently.

listen,(25%) roll:22

There was no response to Phyllis's knock, and no sound came from within the house.

OOC,[b]Phyllis[/b], you may roll Idea.

Phyllis frowns,

"Odd. Or maybe they've gone to the church already." She tries to peer through a crack in the window.

Idea,(70% roll:33

ooc,Sorry for incremental posts - art show - back to normal next week

The blackout curtains had been put up well, and they did not admit a shred of light. It occurred to Phyllis that whoever lived here other than Nell may have spent the night in a shelter and not have come back yet. If she waited a little, someone might return.

OOC,That's okay, I haven't had time to update this game myself for almost a week.

"I don't think anyone's home yet, Maggie. But I feel I should wait and tell them the bad news. Do you want to continue to the church? I don't suppose I'll be very long." Phyllis says to Mrs Duncan.

"I'll wait with you," said Maggie.

Within a couple of minutes, an old woman with gray hair hobbled up the street towards the house. She nodded to Phyllis and Maggie as she approached and found them waiting outside. "Good morning, ladies," she said. "I'm Mrs. Ridgely. Are you here about the room?"

Mrs Cruckshank sniffs; as if she looked like the sort of person who would takes rooms. But then she thinks for a moment."Err, yes." She says, glaring at Maggie. "It's not for us you understand, but for my niece Jane. She's coming up from Woking. But I'd like to find somewhere respectable before she gets here. I'm Mrs Cruckshank and this is Mrs Duncan."

"A pleasure to meet you, ladies," said Mrs. Ridgely. She fished her keys out of her handbag and unlocked the door. "Come in, and I'll show it to you. I'll put on a spot of tea too, if you like. I run a respectable house here, you can rest assured. No gentlemen callers allowed inside, nosiree. Of course, I can't control what my boarders do when they're not at home. Only one at the moment, girl named Nell, though I expect she got caught out in the raid yesterday same as I did. Betsy's gone off to be a Wren, God bless her. That's why her room's vacant."

"A cup of tea would be lovely wouldn't it, Maggie? Thank you." Says Phyllis, still full from breakfast. She follows Mrs Ridgely in. "It's a big old house, Mrs Ridgely; plenty of character. Have you had boarders long?" She casts a beady eye around the place as she walks.

Spot hidden,(25%) roll:78

Maggie nodded. "Thank you, dear," she said.

"Oh, yes," replied Mrs. Ridgely as she puttered around and got the tea ready. The living room had plenty of bric-a-brac and flowers of various sorts, but there was nothing unusual. "Tenants come and go, and it seems as though nobody stays here long. Betsy moved in two years ago, and Nell last year, a few months before the war started."

Phyllis looks at Maggie. "Um, Mrs Ridgely, would that be Nell Murrows? It's just that I know Nell; helped her out a bit at one point. And we think that Nell might have had an accident last night. It's not confirmed of course but I suppose you ought to know."

"Yes, Nell Murrow," said Mrs. Ridgely, pouring the tea. "Oh, I do hope she's not too badly hurt. Caught out in the raid, was she? She did mention yesterday that she had a date with a gentleman for last evening. An RAF officer, she said."

Phyllis takes a sip of tea, "Oh dear, I suppose we'd better find out who the officer is so we can tell him too. You see, we think Nell died last night; people in the shelter saw it happen. Have you met the RAF officer, Mrs Ridgely?"

"Ah, no," said Mrs. Ridgely. "I don't even know his name. She seemed over the moon about him, though. She went out with chaps quite a bit, did Nell, but she never spoke in such glowing terms about one before. Handsome, she said he was, and he walked with a limp. Terrible shame she was killed in the bombing..."

ooc,Help, sorry! I can remember the german pilot at the shelter. Was there an English one floating about too?

"Strange, the witnesses said nothing about an RAF officer." Phyllis thinks for a moment. "Do you know of any next of kin, Mrs Ridgely? Otherwise the WI could help you dispose of Nell's belongings; it all goes to a good home."

"Nell never talked much about her family," said Mrs. Ridgely. "I don't know who they are. Thank you, ma'am, that would be a great help. Her room is right up the stairs, on the left."

OOC,There's [b]John Barrow[/b], who's an American volunteer with the RAF. He came back with those who had gone to the warehouse during the air raid, having bailed out of his plane. You haven't seen any English RAF officers.

"That's very good of you, Mrs Ridgely. We could make an inventory now and then come back later once we know what to do best with it all." Phyllis finishes her tea and stands up.
"Which is the spare room? We can take a quick look at it while we are there, for my neice. On my part, I'm very happy with the situation but I can't guarantee what Jane will do; you know what young girls are like these days. No, don't get up, Mrs Ridgely, finish your tea; Mrs Duncan and I can holler if we need assistance." She looks at Maggie and makes to leave for the hallway.

"Of course," said Mrs. Ridgely. "Betsy's old room is also at the top of the stairs, but on the right."

Maggie went up the stairs with Phyllis. The hall was narrow, with closed doors on the left and the right. At the end of the hall were two more closed doors, one on either side, and another at the end.

"Lawks, but these stairs are steep!" puffs Phyllis. "It didn't feel right telling Mrs Ridgely about the wild animal; not until it's been confirmed anyway, cause of death and such. Here we are finally. Let's have a look at Nell's room then, poor girl." Phyllis opens the door on the left and pushes it open. She walks in.

The bedroom was small and cramped,though Mrs. Ridgely would probably have referred to it as "cosy." There was a small bed in one corner with a nightstand containing a drawer next to it. A dresser stood opposite them. Against the right wall was a closet. The window at the back of the room was shrouded by a blackout curtain.

Maggie followed Phyllis into the room, having caught her breath after climbing the stairs. There was barely room for the two of them, but they could still move around each other.

Phyllis sniffs. "No damp." She bumps into Maggie, "Sorry dear, these attic rooms are always so pokey. I'm not sure I'd want a neice of mine staying here." She goes to the nightstand and pulls at the drawer. "When do you think Nell was last here?"

Maggie ran an experimental finger across the dresser's surface to gauge the depth of the dust. "Yesterday, I expect," she said. "Can't imagine the landlady would dust her tenants' rooms for them."

Phyllis slid open the drawer, which contained a small book with a red leather cover and no title.

"No, that's very true. Have a look in the drawers to see what's there, Maggie. I wonder if we can find anything about her beau." Phyllis pockets the book, looks under the bed and then goes to open the closet.

There was nothing under the bed but more dust, a lot more than a day's worth. It seemed Nell hadn't bothered to dust under there. The closet and the dresser drawers contained a variety of clothes, and there were also several pairs of shoes in different colors and styles on the closet floor. They were rather on the expensive side, and some of the clothes were rather risque. "Quite daring, was our Nell," said Maggie. "Could be something in that book you found. I expect it's her diary."

Phyllis casts her eye over some of the items as Maggie holds them up. "Those look expensive; gifts, perhaps? I can't even tell what that garment is supposed to be! All this would go down well at the thrift shop. Do you think we can carry it all now? I was going to wait until later to look at the diary but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a gander at it now." She retrieves the red book and scans the pages.

"Some of these clothes don't look decent enough to wear," said Maggie with a tsk. "Still, make do and mend. The material will still be useful if nothing else."

Phyllis flipped through the book, which was indeed a diary. It covered the last year or so, approximately from the beginning of the war, and it detailed her life as a prostitute, in salacious detail. While she had encounters with many men, she did not seem to develop feelings for them, though she clearly had a heart that longed to fall in love. It was only in the last entry where this changed:

"September 6, 1940,

I met the most darling man today! Jimmy is quite dashing and handsome, an RAF pilot. He lost his leg and nearly his life defending our country from the Jerries. He's married, which is not unusual for my clients, but it does mean I may not be able to keep him for myself. Still, I'll enjoy his company while I can. He's awfully shy when I bring up business, which is also not unusual, but I'm sure he'll partake of the forbidden fruit in the end. They always do. He said he'd like to see me some evening."

"Hmm, maybe we could make Christmas decorations from the material I suppose." says Phyllis, not really listening as she concentrates on the diary, "Goodness me, Maggie, this is enough to... gosh the brazeness of it! It's all very well that Nell sunk to the lowest of the low but that she should write as she does - scandalous!
But, she seemed lonely, for all that. Wait, here it is about the pilot - only his first name, Jimmy; not a lot to go on but we can ask at the barracks. He's married and I get the feeling he's not he usual type. Still, we can see what we can do."

Phyllis slips the diary into her handbag and helps Maggie collect all the garments. "I've got a clean shopping bag here; anything we can't carry we'll pick up later." Once they are loaded up she leads the way back downstairs. "There's RAF Northolt and the airfield in Croydon and isn't the Air HQ in Middlesex somewhere? It might be very difficult tracking a single pilot down. That's if he even came from round London." She grumbles as she treads slowly down the stairs.

ooc,Where would Phyllis think to go to enquire about a pilot?

Phyllis remembered that one of the people in the shelter last night had been an RAF pilot. He might be able to help.

"We could go home via the church, maybe that pilot who was in the shelter might be there." Phyllis says to Maggie as she enters the sitting room to find Mrs Ridgely. "We've got most of it here and can take it now if you like dear; it'll save you being bothered later. The room is fine; II'll be sure to let Jane know it's available when she comes up to London next week. If it's alright with you, we'll bustle off as we have a sermon to catch! Can we do anything else for you mrs Ridgely?"

"Thank you, dears, you've done plenty," said Mrs. Ridgely. "Have a good day."

Phyllis and Maggie left and returned to the church.

OOC,[b]Phyllis[/b] is moving to the thread linked below:

Bloody Sunday