Thank you, everyone, for your positive comments and support for my writing! This week I am including an excerpt from when Hélène first moved to Hull, having lived in Russia for 8 years. She was staying with her parents-in-law, but spending most of her time with her husband’s sister, Minnie-Annie, and her family. After a few weeks, she was starting to feel at home in Hull, waiting for the war to end so her husband, Walter (who was still with his ship in the Gulf of Finland), and daughter, Lili (who was living with Hélène’s maman and the rest of the family in France) could join her there, and, with their new baby, they could start their lives together as a family.

Here is the excerpt:

‘At the Hull dock, Hélène stood watching the comings and goings while Minnie Annie picked up some fish for dinner. The smell of the salt water and the large boats manoeuvring in and out of the harbour made her feel closer to Walter. She idly wondered what it would have been like for her husband growing up in this city, and thought of the contrast between their two childhoods: she in her sunny French village and him in this rainy, industrial port. And yet only a few miles apart!

The briny, fishy dampness of the dock nuzzled its way into her hair and clothes. The winters had been bitterly cold in Petrograd, but this chill seeped right into her bones, making it feel almost colder. She felt very small standing on the wharf, gazing at the men and equipment hauling supplies on and off the large boats, the daily thrum of business going on around her. “’Scuse me, luv,” someone said right behind her, interrupting her reverie, and she jumped aside to let the workman pass by with his load. Hélène pulled her shawl over her nose and cheeks, thrust her hands into her pockets, and turned her back on the busy harbour to meet back up with Minnie Annie and walk to the tram. She was already thinking of the hot cup of tea and warm fire waiting at 60 Rosamond St.

“There’s such a shortage of fish at the docks these days,” Minnie Annie complained as they walked, “and it’s so dear. Since the war started, the fishing trawlers are helping with minesweeping and searching for German U-boats in the North Sea and Channel. Fish used to be so plentiful and cheap in Hull. Not anymore! And the docks just don’t smell the same!”

Hélène thought it smelled pretty fishy in Hull as it was; initially it had given her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, but now it had become as familiar and comforting to her as the buttery smell of croissants in France.

“The worst is that most of the chip and pattie shops have closed,” said Minnie Annie.

“Chip and pattie?”

“The fish and chip shops,” laughed Minnie Annie. “A pattie is made of fish and potato and only costs a penny. Wrapped up in old newspaper – mmm, so delicious.”

“Old newspaper?”

“Yes, cheap and cheerful! Abe and I would go when we were courting,” she stopped for a moment to remember the long-ago experience.

Hélène was enjoying her sister-in-law’s company, and only went to her parents-in-law’s on Tranmere at night to sleep. She felt much calmer now she had settled into Hull, with enough food to eat. Although she felt her increasing bulk putting a strain on her heart, she was more confident she would be able to carry the baby to term. When they were out walking together, Hélène was conscious of Minnie Annie slowing her pace; normally, her sister-in-law walked quickly, full of purpose, to accomplish the many things in her busy day. She didn’t want to delay her, but all the same, Hélène warmly appreciated Minnie Annie’s thoughtfulness.

Minnie Annie introduced her to everyone they met, and Hélène discovered that being a French woman, pregnant, and married to a local man who was away at sea, was of great interest to most people. In their local neighbourhood, the juicy gossip spread rapidly; she would often hear furtive whispering behind her back, caught words that sounded something like “That’s the French woman.” “Yes, the one what married the Chief Engineer”. Soon enough, she decided on a strategy of turning around, smiling her most charming smile, and saying hello. This usually elicited a responding hello and sometimes a bit of conversation, and, maybe, if she was lucky, eventually a smile. Slowly but surely, one person at a time, Hélène felt she was winning over the population of Hull.’

The photo is of the docks of Hull around 1917 when Hélène lived there.