by Ellie Dean
There was a sparkle in her eyes as she regarded him. ‘As for trying to serenade me with that terrible voice of yours …’ She giggled. ‘I’d rather you didn’t do that again.’
‘Then how can I persuade you I’ve turned over a new leaf and will never do any of those things again? Would a promise suffice, or …’ He fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out the little jewellery box. ‘Perhaps if I asked you to marry me, would that convince you?’
She looked down at the sparkling ruby and diamond ring and gently closed the box before handing it back. ‘Perhaps one day, Ron, but not now.’
His spirits plummeted. ‘But why, Rosie? We’re both free, and this is what we’ve planned and waited for, for years.’
‘It’s too soon, and I’m not ready,’ she replied.
‘Then what do you want, Rosie?’ he asked in despair.
‘I want to be taken dancing and to the pictures. I want to share picnics with you and snuggle up on the couch after closing time to listen to the wireless without you badgering me to sleep with you.’ She regarded him evenly. ‘I’m not ready for that either, not so soon after losing James. It wouldn’t feel right.’
‘Then I don’t understand,’ he muttered in bewilderment.
‘I want to be wooed.’
‘Wooed?’ he breathed.
She nodded solemnly. ‘Wooed. Which means being treated like a lady, being confided in and cherished with flowers and the occasional treat – being noticed and cared for whatever mood I’m in, and never taken for granted.’
Ron was perplexed and couldn’t think of anything to say, for he’d always thought he’d regarded Rosie as a lady to be cherished and spoilt.
She saw his frown and broke into a broad smile. ‘If all that is acceptable, you can make a start by giving me a kiss.’
Ron’s bewilderment fled, and without a thought of how on earth he was going to comply with this new regimen, he joyfully gathered her into his arms and kissed the very breath from her.
5
Peggy emerged from the factory after her sevenhour shift and went to the crèche to pick up Daisy. She could see Fred the Fish and his Cockney wife Lil at the kerb in the delivery van, and not wanting to keep them waiting, hurried over with Daisy slung across her hip.
‘Hello, ducks,’ said Lil, reaching for Daisy and giving her a kiss and cuddle. ‘My word, this one’s growing a mile a minute!’ she exclaimed. She put her free arm around Peggy’s waist. ‘And how’s you today, Peg? You looks a bit tired, if yer don’t mind me saying. Are you still in shock from that blooming bomb?’
‘It’s been a long day, but I’m fine,’ Peggy assured her. ‘Are you sure it’s not too much bother having Daisy as well as those boys to look after?’
‘Lawks almighty, none of them ain’t no trouble,’ said Lil with a dismissive wave of her plump hand. ‘Them boys is as good as gold now they’ve settled down wiv us, and it’s lovely to have a little girl to play with again now our two are all grown up.’
She climbed in beside Fred, with Daisy on her lap, and Peggy squashed in for the ride up to the Memorial Hospital to visit Danuta, the little Polish refugee who’d once been Peggy’s evacuee and who was now recovering from the terrible injuries inflicted by the Gestapo. Fred and Lil had no idea of the part Danuta had played behind enemy lines after she’d left Beach View, and thought she’d fallen victim to a London bombing raid, but as she was someone Peggy cared for, they were happy to help out.
Fred turned the ignition and the rather smelly old delivery van wheezed and groaned out of Camden Road and up the High Street. Fred was an old pal of Ron’s, and well into his sixties. He and Lil ran the local fish shop in Camden Road and lived three streets away from Peggy. They had raised their two girls and seen them fly the nest a long while ago. There were no grandchildren yet, much to their disappointment, but when they saw the plight of the four little brothers who’d lived next door to them, they took them in in their kind-hearted way and formally adopted them.
The children had already lost their father in the first battle of El Alamein when their mother was killed during an air raid on the factory estate. Bewildered and afraid, those little boys had blossomed in their care, and were now a tremendous source of pride to both of them.
‘How are the boys?’ asked Peggy as the old van struggled over the humped bridge by the station and on up the steep hill into the countryside.
‘Doing ever so well,’ said Lil with a beaming smile. ‘Johnnie’s just sat his exams for the grammar school, and ’is teacher reckons ’e’ll pass with flying colours. Graham’s top of ’is class in English and arithmetic; Ian’s doing really well at sport, and little Billy will go up into the secondary school next term.’
She jiggled Daisy on her lap and made her giggle. ‘It’s a bit of a bind getting them all to school ’cos of course we has to go out of town now for the older ones, but it’ll get easier when Billy joins them.’
‘How will you cope with the grammar school?’ asked Peggy, knowing it was almost eight miles away.
‘We’ll manage,’ said Fred firmly. ‘The boy’s bright, and travel restrictions and petrol rationing won’t stop us getting him there. If push comes to shove, then he’ll have to go and board with my nephew who lives nearby. He’ll be all right there, although we’ll miss not having him around. We’ll probably bring him home at the weekends.’
Fred pulled up in the driveway of the Memorial Hospital. ‘I’ll be back for you in an hour as usual,’ he said. ‘And don’t worry about Daisy. We’ll feed her, and Lil will drop her off at Beach View to put her to bed.’
‘Thank you both,’ Peggy said earnestly. ‘I don’t know how I’d have managed without you giving me a lift every night.’
‘Glad to do it, Peg,’ said Lil. ‘And from what you’ve said, it won’t be long before that girl is well enough for you to bring her home.’ She grimaced. ‘Bloody Hitler and his bloody bombs. I tell you straight, Peg, I’ve just about had enough of it all.’
‘Language, Lil,’ Frank reproved with a frown and a glance at a wide-eyed Daisy who was taking it all in.
Peggy chuckled, kissed Daisy and climbed out. ‘See you in an hour.’
Fred tooted the horn and drove off, and Peggy stood for a moment gazing at the burgeoning flower beds and the sturdy walls of the old manor house, needing to catch her breath before she went to see Danuta. The day had felt endless, and she had yet to face Doris and try to make peace with her, but in the tranquillity of this lush garden it was easy to shed the stresses and strains and find calm again.
There was no sign of Matron Billings, who could only be described as a tartar, and a bad-tempered one at that. Peggy hurried along the corridors, hearing the rattle of food trolleys and the squeak of rubber-soled shoes as the nurses bustled about and patients prepared for their evening meal.
The usual hospital smells of boiled cabbage and disinfectant accompanied her as she nodded greetings to the nurses she’d come to know during the course of her visits, first with Kitty Pargeter, and now with Danuta.
Kitty had been brought here after she’d crashed a plane she’d been delivering for the ATA. She’d lost most of one leg, but her will to carry on regardless proved to be strong, and she’d learnt to manage the prosthesis during her stay at Beach View and had ended up marrying Wing Commander Roger Makepeace and returning to flying. Now she was expecting her first baby and waiting in hope to hear from Roger, who was a POW in the same camp as her brother, Freddy, Peggy’s son-in-law, Martin, and young Cissy’s American flier Randolph Stevens.
Peggy made a mental note to try and ring Cissy at the aerodrome tonight. She hadn’t seen her since before her twenty-second birthday the previous month, or even heard from her for a while, and she needed to be reassured that her girl was coping now the activity up there was reaching fever-pitch. Cissy was right on the front line of the action and probably witnessing too many aircraft crashing or blowing up as they came in torn to bits by enemy gunfire and tried to land – and of co
urse she’d have seen the long lists of those who had not returned, and felt the gnawing anxiety every time the squadron left on another sortie.
Peggy turned the corner and headed down yet another long corridor. Due to the injuries she’d suffered, and the questions they might elicit from the other patients, Danuta was still in the private room that overlooked the sweep of lawn and colourful flower beds at the back of the manor house. She’d been at the Memorial for several months since escaping from the Gestapo, and it had been touch and go as to whether she would survive – but Danuta’s spirit was strong and determined and it seemed that at last she was on the road to recovery.
As the door was ajar, Peggy went in without knocking only to come to an abrupt halt.
Danuta was not in bed as usual, covered with sheets and blankets, but struggling to stand unaided on her tortured feet as the nurse divested her of her nightdress to replace it with a fresh one.
Peggy saw how thin she was, her ribs, hips and backbone jutting through papery flesh that was scarred by beatings and numerous burns. Her legs were similarly marked, and around her ankles were the unmistakable scars left by tight shackles. Peggy gave an involuntary gasp and the nurse looked up angrily.
‘You shouldn’t be in here,’ she snapped. ‘Wait outside until I’ve finished.’
‘No,’ said Danuta. ‘She can see. I am not ashamed.’
Peggy was in a daze as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, for Danuta was twenty-seven, but now resembled a very thin, fragile thirteen. She had pushed away the fresh nightdress and stood before her naked, the evidence of what the Gestapo had done to her all too clear. Peggy bit hard on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying, but the pitiful sight made her tremble inside.
‘Is not pretty, I think, but they did not win.’ Danuta ran her bandaged hands through the jagged tufts of her hair and looked at her defiantly. ‘The burns are fading and my nails and hair have already started to grow again. Please not cry, Peggy.’
‘How can I not?’ she said, the tears falling despite her sterling effort to keep them at bay. ‘Oh, Danuta, my sweet girl. What did they do to you?’
Danuta took the nightdress from the nurse and almost nonchalantly pulled it over her head until it covered her from neck to ankle. She looked at Peggy and grinned. ‘They made me angry and more determined than ever to survive. I think, as you say, they are laughing on the other side of their faces now we are closing in on them.’
Peggy was astounded that the girl could even smile, let alone make a joke about it, and she was lost for words.
Danuta sank onto the bed as the nurse began to tidy up. ‘Come, sit beside me, Mama Peggy, and tell me how you are.’
‘I’m fine,’ she stuttered, perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed, her handbag clutched in her lap whilst the nurse bustled about and finally left the room with a backward glare of disapproval.
‘You are being brave too, I think,’ Danuta replied. ‘I can see you are tired and troubled. It is a long way to come to visit me after you have been working, and you are still shocked by what happened in the park.’
‘Yes, I’m still shaken up, but it’ll pass,’ said Peggy, unwilling to talk about the row with her sister and the unexpected moments of sheer terror that caught her out every time she heard the buzz of an engine in the sky. Danuta had witnessed and suffered far worse things – the scars on her body only the outward sign of what had been done to her – the rest hidden inside and in her mind. If Danuta could smile and make light of them, then so would she.
Danuta regarded her steadily and then smiled. ‘You will not have to worry about coming to see me very soon, for the doctor is saying that if I keep improving, I can come home to Beach View next week.’
‘Really?’ Peggy breathed. ‘Oh, Danuta, that would be wonderful. But are you sure you’ll be ready? You’ve had a big operation and—’
Danuta placed her bandaged hand on Peggy’s shoulder. ‘I am strong like you. A bit shaken up, but it will pass and I’ll be fine,’ she teased.
Peggy chuckled. ‘Now you’re being cheeky.’
‘Ah, yes, but it has made you smile. And that is a good thing, I think. Yes?’
‘Yes,’ said Peggy, taking her cautiously into her arms and holding her to her heart. ‘And from now on, Danuta, you will know only good things. I promise.’
Fred dropped Peggy off at the end of the alleyway, and with a couple of toots from his horn, set off for his home three streets away. Peggy hurried along the rutted path, hungry for her evening meal and elated by Danuta’s news, but nervous about facing Doris. She didn’t want any more ructions today, for there had been enough drama already, and she could only hope that her sister was in a conciliatory mood.
Peggy opened the scullery door and listened to the bright chatter coming from the kitchen. Her chicks were home by the sound of it, along with Ron and young Fran’s Robert. Her heart lightened and she went up the concrete steps, taking off her scarf and jacket along the way.
It was still light enough to keep the curtains open, and the glow of the fire in the range chased away the slight chill that still came when the sun began to sink towards the western hills. She took one look at the bright faces round her table and knew something was up. ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘What are you all grinning about?’
Fran got up from the table and went to stand by Robert, who was looking positively full of himself as he placed a protective arm about her waist. Her lovely face was radiant as she swept back her titian curls so that the diamond on her finger sparked fire in the last rays of the sun.
Peggy squeaked in delight. ‘You’ve done it at last,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, Fran, Robert, I’m so happy for you both.’ She rushed across the room and threw her arms about them. ‘When’s the wedding? Are you having an engagement party?’ she babbled, examining the beautiful ring through happy tears.
Everyone laughed at this, for Peggy’s enthusiasm for romance was well known. Robert, who’d always been painfully shy, went a deeper scarlet as he chuckled. ‘One thing at a time, Aunt Peggy. I’ve yet to write and ask her father’s permission.’
Peggy’s delight was tempered by the knowledge that there could be ructions ahead, for Fran’s family were staunch Catholics, and Robert was a Protestant. ‘I’m sure he’ll be delighted to have such a handsome, clever son-in-law,’ she said, stoutly refusing to let the thought mar the occasion. ‘It’s utterly silly to let religion get in the way of anything – especially as we’re fighting a war to get rid of such prejudices.’
‘Easier said than done, Aunt Peg,’ said Fran with a lightness that belied the cloud of worry that dimmed her green eyes. ‘To be sure, you’ve not met my father.’
‘I’ll be writing to him,’ said Ron from his chair by the wireless. ‘He’ll see sense if I have anything to do with it.’
Robert pushed his fingers through his brutally short dark hair as he eyed Ron warily. ‘Thanks, Ron. I appreciate your support, but if anyone has to persuade Fran’s father it will have to be me.’
‘It’ll be terribly difficult to do that while travel to and from Ireland is banned,’ fretted Peggy. ‘Will you have to wait until the war’s over before you can get married?’
Fran glanced up at Robert and then shot them all a beaming smile which chased away the doubts and lit up her eyes. ‘We might just have to go ahead anyway. Da will blow a fuse, but hopefully, once this war is over and he’s met Robert, he’ll have calmed down.’
Peggy wasn’t sure this would be a wise course of action, for if Fran’s father was a dyed-in-the-wool traditionalist who was against mixed marriages, he could very well shun his oldest daughter and refuse to let the rest of the family have anything to do with her. She caught Fran’s eye and knew then that beneath the defiant, bright smile was a worried girl.
Robert broke into her thoughts. ‘I managed to telephone my mother this afternoon, and she’s thrilled, so there are no worries there,’ he said, hugging Fran to his side. ‘I suspect t
hat once the travel ban is lifted, she’ll be down from Warwick to find out for herself why I love this girl so very much.’
Peggy smiled at him with great fondness. He and Doris’s son, Anthony, had become best pals when they’d worked together at the Fort for the MOD, and it was through Anthony’s persuading him to join the local orchestra that he’d met Fran. Robert played the saxophone, and Fran had borrowed Doris’s violin, and together they made the most beautiful music. Impatient with her soppy thoughts, she poured a cup of tea.
‘I wish I had something stronger to celebrate with,’ she said. ‘But I’m afraid tea, or a rather cheap sherry, is all I have.’
‘The sherry’s all gone, but I’ll see if Rosie has a bottle of something before I have to leave for fire-watch duty,’ said Ron, slipping on his coat.
Peggy looked at him in hopeful delight. ‘Does that mean you two have made it up?’ she asked.
‘Aye, to be sure, the air is cleared.’ He gave her a stern look from beneath his brows. ‘But don’t be getting ahead of yourself, Peggy, girl. There’s to be no wedding yet.’
‘But I thought—’
‘Aye, well, I have to prove meself first before she’ll take me on,’ he muttered, pulling on his old cap. ‘She wants to be wooed.’
Peggy was unable to smother her giggles. ‘Wooed?’ she spluttered.
‘Yes,’ he replied, his expression determined as he shot a glare at the chortling girls. ‘Though to be sure I’ve not a clue what that’s supposed to mean.’
‘Then I suggest you have a word with my Robert,’ said Fran, kissing his cheek. ‘He knows how to woo a girl.’
‘Ach, ’tis not funny,’ grumbled Ron. ‘I don’t know where you women get your daft ideas.’
‘Before you go, Ron, I have some good news too,’ said Peggy. ‘Danuta will be coming home next week.’ She was gratified to see the delight in his smile, but hurried on before he could say anything. ‘You’ll have to mend that window in Cissy’s room – it still gets stuck – and sort out the lino. It’s so worn I can see the wooden floor in places. And that bed leg needs tightening up. I don’t want it collapsing on her.’