Wartime on Coronation Street

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Wartime on Coronation Street Page 19

by Maggie Sullivan


  Vera looked at Lily, puzzled for a moment, then she remembered Lily explaining that word when they had first read through the book of rules – and all she could think about was how she was going to get her extra parcels of food to Pietro. They had discussed a safe place to use in an emergency when she had first started bringing him extra rations, but would he remember?

  There was a strange mood among the dormitory girls who were working out in the fields the following day and Vera felt it especially sharply as she set about feeding and mucking out the animals without any help from Pietro. After such an eventful previous day, the incident hung over them all and they skulked about as if they each felt they were personally to blame. Then, at supper, Grayling announced that he had some good news to tell them and everyone looked up eagerly.

  ‘I’m delighted to be able to tell you that the sugar sifter that was stolen has been found,’ Grayling said, beaming at each of them with a satisfied smile. ‘And I can tell you that it is now safely under lock and key in her ladyship’s study. Unfortunately, the family will have to think twice about using it again. This is the sort of situation that reminds us how valuable a piece it is and they may decide not to risk it disappearing again.’

  At this, they each exchanged glances and looked as if they expected him to produce the sifter as proof of its safe return, but he made no such offer. ‘All I can say is that it appeared as mysteriously as it had disappeared,’ Grayling went on, ‘but her ladyship is extremely grateful and she has asked me to tell you that she is satisfied that as all the stolen items have now been retrieved she considers the incident to be closed.’

  ‘But does she know who stole the items if it wasn’t the POW?’ Jones seemed anxious to know. ‘Isn’t she afraid the burglar could strike again?’

  ‘Not really, not if it was just a petty thief,’ Grayling said with disdain. ‘Whoever it was must have realized he’d made a mistake and that it made rather more sense to return the items than to hang on to them once he knew the value of the sugar sifter. It would have been of no use to him because he’d never have been able to sell it.’

  ‘Why’s that,’ Jones persisted, ‘if it was so valuable?’

  ‘Because unless the culprit was part of a gang or a large organization he – or she – would have a great deal of difficulty trying to sell any of those pieces, the sifter in particular.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Tucker was interested now.

  ‘You said yourself that the sifter was a family heirloom,’ Grayling said, ‘and frankly, once the police issued a description of it, it would have become too easily recognizable to sell and much too easy to spot. That particular piece was so intricately fashioned it would be instantly identified, so the moment it came onto the market the thief would have been found out.’

  Vera was thinking of Pietro, glad that his name had been cleared and that as Grayling said now, the whole incident could be put behind them.

  She was hoping Pietro would get to hear the story of the return and wondered whether she herself might be able to snatch a few moments to tell him when she snuck out after supper to leave her parcel of extra food in their safe emergency place.

  Chapter 26

  Duncan, Marquis of Holden, sat back in the deep leather chair in his mother’s study and put his feet up on the desk, careful not to let the finishing polish on the fine leather of his riding boots come into contact with any of the papers that were splayed across the desktop. He glanced up at the clock on the wall that signalled ten minutes to midnight. May as well make myself comfortable, he thought, I might be here for some time.

  It had been a strange few days since he had been home on leave, first Tucker turning up like that and practically demanding the attention she felt she deserved given their previous history, when he had been expecting to have a bit of spontaneous fun with the land lass, what was her name? Oh yes, Lily. It was funny how Lily had never appeared at all, he thought, so he might well have been left in the lurch if he’d relied on her. A bird in the hand and all that. But imagine the shock she would have had if she had come across him and Tucker while they were otherwise engaged! Still, it was a shame – he had quite fancied trying out a new bit of skirt. But he could see now that Tucker wasn’t going to let go of her previously established position without a fight. Never mind, maybe another time.

  But now he had got embroiled in the troublesome little problem of a petty theft and it angered him to think that there might be someone at the manor who thought they could help themselves to a trophy from the silverware cabinet with impunity. Well, that wasn’t going to happen on his watch, for watch he would. Tonight, whoever they were, they were about to have a rude awakening.

  His mother had agreed to their using the study as bait and Grayling had given out the false information concerning the whereabouts of the finest piece of silver that had been taken, and he and Grayling had each volunteered to sit up for half the night in the study in the hope of catching the thief red-handed. Only the real thief would know that, regardless of what Grayling had said, the sifter hadn’t actually been returned yet. But if everything went according to plan the robber would be tricked into coming to check what it was that they had under lock and key in the study. They were hoping that the stolen goods would, in fact, be returned tonight.

  Of course, Duncan had his own suspicions as to who the culprit might be, but he needed proof before they could present the case to the local police and ask them to investigate further and charge someone. Duncan grinned in the dark. The idea of catching a burglar with the evidence in his hands appealed to his sense of adventure. A jolly jape, he would have called such a plan when he was young and at prep school, though what his mates in the army would call it now was anybody’s guess.

  Duncan wasn’t sure whether it was the click of the door handle or the flash of the torch that woke him up, but he made sure not to move an inch in case it alerted the intruder. He lifted his eyelids a fraction, trying to absorb what little light there was, as he saw what looked like a hooded male figure creeping across the room. The figure stood in front of one of the glass cabinets on the opposite side of the room and carefully lifted the latch. Duncan opened his eyes wider and felt for the short, sturdy stick that he had slipped into his pocket for protection. As he watched, the cabinet door swung open and a hand lifted down the silver-plated sifter that they had used as bait in place of the solid silver one that had been stolen. In one move Duncan swung his legs off the desk and lashed out with the stick, aiming for the robber’s shoulder, and from the cry and the groan that followed it he knew he had connected sweetly. The moaning continued but Duncan took his time switching on the light and pulling back the black hood.

  ‘Well, well, if it isn’t Footman Jones,’ Duncan said. ‘I would say you’d been caught in the act, wouldn’t you?’ But Jones didn’t reply; he was too busy nursing what he was convinced was a broken shoulder.

  Chapter 27

  Ena Sharples carried her regular favourite, milk stout, back to the table in the snug at the Rovers Return where she and her friends liked to sit at this time, early on a Saturday evening. Ena and Martha Longhurst had made a habit of meeting in the pub to swap news since the girls had gone away and Ena’s friend Minnie Caldwell usually joined them. It was normally a quiet time in the Rovers, before a proper Saturday night got going; a time when it felt pleasantly sociable and not too busy and a couple of pints and a gossip could put them in a good mood for the rest of the weekend; but tonight Ena sat down heavily and scowled.

  ‘Have you heard from your Lily, then?’ Minnie asked Martha. She was carefully avoiding talking to Ena about Vera, for the last time she’d asked about her, Ena had all but snapped Minnie’s head off.

  ‘Not since she first changed over from the training place to that fancy stately home where they’re all living now,’ Martha said, not without pride. ‘She told me she was working on this amazing machine that did something with the corn they’d been collecting, but I didn’t understand it, I’m afrai
d. Not that she ever told us much, really. Her father keeps threatening to go down to this place to see for himself but I don’t even know where it is.’

  ‘Somewhere in the countryside, no doubt, a long way south from here. Somewhere safe at least,’ Minnie suggested with a smile.

  ‘Oh no,’ Martha said quickly. ‘I’ve since found out it’s not as safe as she first said. Seems they get lots of alerts and they even get bombs dropping so they have to run to the shelters. It seems the wretched Jerries will sometimes drop the bombs on them when they’re on their way home if they haven’t already dropped them. I don’t know what to make of it all,’ she said shaking her head.

  ‘Whatever you hear from Lily you can’t get less than this.’ Ena suddenly seemed to stir. She took out a flimsy piece of lined notepaper from a small brown envelope and threw it on the table in disgust. ‘This is what my daughter thinks can be called a letter to her mother,’ she said angrily, not seeming to care that the paper had landed in a puddle of beer. ‘As you can see, I’ve no idea what she’s getting up to down there in this here army thing. The only people she talks about are what she calls POWs and Italian ones at that, so you work it out.’

  ‘I can assure you we don’t get no better information from Lily.’ Martha tried to placate Ena.

  ‘But Lily isn’t expecting her mother to keep an eye out for her fiancé, watching what he’s getting up to while she’s away, is she?’ Ena snapped crossly.

  ‘How do you mean, Ena? What makes you say that? You make it sound like he’s been up to something,’ Minnie said. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like nothing and everything, I hope,’ Ena said mysteriously. ‘Nothing that I’ve heard of, but I’m always hopeful that he’ll do something daft that will make Vera change her mind about him, that’s all.’

  ‘Ooh!’ Minnie’s eyes sparkled at the thought of some juicy gossip. ‘Do you think there’s a chance of that, Ena?’ she asked.

  But Ena merely sighed. ‘How would I know? I only see him occasionally at work so I’ve no way of knowing what’s going on with him – and the last time I saw him he just said Vera hadn’t written to him for ages.’

  ‘I bet he’s upset,’ Minnie said,

  ‘Not as upset as he should be,’ Ena said sharply. ‘From what I hear lately he’s taken to hanging around with that lot that are always messing about on the Field. Ever since they put up that Anderson shelter there it’s been a haven for them young men of an evening, cheaper than going to the pub, isn’t it? Not that I’ve seen them there myself because it’s not a place I go to, but other folk have seen him and make it their business to tell me about it.’ She shook her head. ‘Goodness only knows what they get up to over there.’

  ‘I wonder why she’s not written to Bob, then?’ Martha frowned.

  ‘I’ve no idea. Since they moved into what she calls the Big House all I’ve really heard about – when she does deign to write – is how tired she is because she isn’t getting enough sleep, and how hungry she is because she doesn’t get enough food. And that doesn’t make much sense to me, as there seems to be lots of bread and fresh milk and cheese available there, not to mention all the vegetables they grow. I’ve told her to count her blessings. She’s far better off than she would be up here. I don’t know what she thinks we’re eating.’

  ‘What kind of job is she doing there?’ Minnie asked.

  Ena shrugged. ‘Lots of different things, if she’s to be believed, like mucking out horses, milking cows and making cream cheese, but you can never tell with my Vera. She always was fond of making up stories, so I take much of what she says with a pinch of salt. But now she’s talking about falling in love with some dogs that seem to be following her about.’ She pointed to the beer-soaked piece of paper on the table as if it was of no consequence, then took another sup of her beer. ‘I honestly don’t know what to make of her sometimes,’ she said. ‘I wrote and asked her, have you gone all that way to look after someone else’s dogs? But she didn’t reply.’ Ena shook her head.

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me to find that the only person she has written to is Elsie Tanner,’ Minnie suddenly said and at that Ena banged her glass down on the table, making them all jump.

  ‘You what?’ she shouted, glaring at Minnie and not seeming to care that everyone in the snug was staring at them. ‘Are you telling me that as a fact, that you know for sure, Minnie Caldwell, or did you just make that up?’

  ‘Oh no, Ena.’ Minnie cowered back into her chair. ‘I don’t know anything for sure. I was only suggesting that that might be the case. I haven’t talked to Mrs Tanner, but she and Vera were certainly very friendly before the girls left.’

  Ena made a sarcastic harumphing noise and her face set into even harder lines as she continued to glare at Minnie. ‘I wouldn’t expect the likes of her to tell me even if she’d had a letter from Vera this morning,’ Ena said, her jaw tight. ‘I reckon she’s too busy with her own affairs right now; too concerned about them GIs that she’s so fond of.’

  ‘I think you’re wrong about Vera, you know, Ena,’ Martha said. ‘I honestly don’t imagine she would have written to Elsie and not written to you.’

  ‘You can never tell what my daughter might do,’ Ena said. ‘The way that girl’s mind works is not like anyone else’s I know. She doesn’t seem to think for one minute that I might be sitting at home on my own, night after night, worrying.’

  ‘It’s a right shame after all you’ve done for her,’ Minnie agreed.

  ‘Well, I can tell you something for nothing, I’m not relying on that Bob Lomax to straighten her out.’

  ‘How do you mean, Ena?’

  ‘I mean that I still don’t think he’s the kind of man that she needs by her side. Can you imagine the two of them together, picking their way through life – or more likely muddling their way through. It would be nothing but disaster. No, I’m telling you, he’s not right for her, isn’t Bob Lomax. As far as I’m concerned we’ve not seen the last of Eric Bowman. He’s still keen on her, you know, and, quite frankly, my money’s on him.’

  ‘Oh, Ena, you mean you’ve been stoking the fires?’ Martha chuckled, glad to break the tension.

  ‘Where’s the harm in helping things along a bit?’ Ena suddenly smiled.

  ‘I think I’d have been tempted to do the same,’ Martha said, ‘if only our Lily’s beau hadn’t gone by the name of Bradwell.’ She almost spat out the word.

  ‘He might only be a rag-and-bone man, but at least Bowman is an honest name round these parts,’ Ena said with a glint of triumph in her eyes.

  ‘So how do you intend to tell your Vera what you have in mind regarding Eric? I presume you’ve not said anything to her yet?’ Minnie was all agog.

  ‘That’s not the reason she’s not written, is it?’ Martha checked.

  ‘What do you take me for?’ Ena scoffed. ‘I’ve been biding my time, watching Bob Lomax. He’s pretty exposed since I persuaded him to take up fire watching and believe you me the minute he puts a foot wrong – which he’s bound to, hanging out with that lot on the Field – then I shall be telling Vera about it. That way I’ll be able to make her see sense. It’ll force her to forget about Bob Lomax and to see Eric Bowman for the good lad that he is.’

  ‘Heard from your Vera, then?’ All heads turned as Elsie Tanner came into the snug, port and lemon in hand. She interrupted their conversation but she didn’t attempt to sit down. She pointed to the letter that Ena had left floating on the table and took a step towards it as if trying to read what it said upside down. Ena snatched it up, even though it was wet, and folded it back into the torn lining of her handbag.

  ‘What’s it to you?’ Ena said.

  ‘Only that we’d both have heard from her at the same time, that’s all’ Elsie said. ‘I know she doesn’t get much time off, so why would she want to waste what little she does have writing letters? I imagine she must be out having fun, particularly now that they’ve got all those men on site, even if half of them are Italian POWs. Let�
��s face it, they’re much more fun than writing letters home.’ Elsie stared at Ena, an innocent look on her face while Ena did her best not to react. ‘And of course, they’ve the big party to organize for the weekend, so I don’t imagine she has any spare time.’

  Ena somehow contained her fury. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘She may as well enjoy it all while she can.’ Ena barely opened her jaw.

  ‘I thought I might write back to her later this evening. Give her some ideas about what she might wear and tell her all the news from here. Shall I send her your love when I reply?’ Elsie said mischievously.

  ‘Thank you very much,’ Ena said, her haughty tone her only defence. ‘But I’m perfectly capable of telling her myself.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that for a minute,’ Elsie said and she swept out to the main bar, leaving Ena seething.

  Chapter 28

  Bob Lomax wandered slowly down to the spare ground known as the Field which he and his friends used as a meeting place. None of them had much money so it was cheaper to buy from the off-licence and meet at the Anderson shelter. As usual, by the time he got there they were already bolstered by bottles of beer as they sat in the shadows of several torches. They had started off as a fairly large group, but their numbers were dwindling as, one by one, they were being called up to the armed forces.

  Bob had proudly told them that he intended getting married soon and he was surprised to see how impressed they looked when he said it was his choice and no, there was no baby on the way. This made him brag more than was warranted about Vera and he was proud to see that he’d gone up in their estimation when he’d hinted that they were as good as married anyway, in all but name. Bob hoped he’d sealed his reputation by boasting of the importance of his maintenance work at the factory and of his value to the neighbourhood as an indispensable fire watcher.

 

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