Where the Heart Lies

by Ellie Dean

  Julie followed her into the homely kitchen and sank into one of the comfortable armchairs that had been set beside the small black range in the chimney breast. She eased the blanket open so William wouldn’t get too warm and looked about her. It was obviously the heart of the home, with shabby furniture, worn linoleum and peeling paint, but it was so like the kitchen back in Stepney that it made her heart ache.

  Rita was chattering away as she made a doorstep sandwich with thick bread, home-made chutney and a slab of corned beef. ‘The others are about somewhere,’ she explained, ‘but it’s been a long, worrying night for everyone, so I expect they’re catching up on their sleep.’ She shot Julie a grin as she handed her the sandwich and a cup of tea. ‘Want me to hold William while you eat?’

  Julie smiled back and tenderly passed him over before she ravenously attacked the delicious sandwich and restoring tea. ‘How many people live here?’ she asked once her initial hunger had been satisfied and she could think straight.

  Rita carefully settled back in the other chair, William snug in her arms. ‘There’s Peggy and Jim, of course, and Jim’s dad, Ron. Mrs Finch is a permanent lodger, but we all think of her as our grandmother.’ She grinned wickedly. ‘She’s as deaf as a post, but don’t let that fool you. Smart as a whip, that one, and not afraid to speak her mind.’

  She fell silent for a moment, mesmerised by William who was squirming and pulling faces in his sleep. ‘Fran and Suzy are nurses at the hospital, and Cissy’s a secretary with the WAAF. She’s Peg and Jim’s youngest daughter, and we went to school together,’ she explained. ‘There are two younger boys, but they’ve been evacuated to Somerset. Then there’s me.’

  Julie smiled back at her, delighted with her friendliness. ‘Are you a Reilly too?’

  Rita smiled broadly. ‘No, but I’ve known the Reillys all my life, so when I got bombed out, Peggy insisted I move in. She’s a diamond, is Aunt Peg,’ she ended with an affectionate smile. ‘You won’t find a better home than this, Julie. I promise.’

  Julie thought fleetingly of the little house in Stepney that had once been the centre of her world, then determinedly pushed the memory away before it summoned tears. The sandwich and the tea had left her feeling sleepier than ever, and if she sat here for much longer, she’d nod right off. ‘Thanks for that,’ she said, wearily getting to her feet and placing the china on the wooden draining board.

  ‘You look all in,’ said Rita, still carrying William. ‘Which is hardly surprising after what you’ve been through. Come on, I’ll show you your room before you fall in a heap.’

  Julie gathered up her bag, gas-mask box and handbag and followed Rita back into the hall and up the stairs.

  ‘You’re at the top of the house in the front,’ Rita chattered happily. ‘Suzy and Fran are next to you, and Cissy Reilly’s along at the end of the landing. I’m in the middle one on the first floor, next to where Anne and Rose Margaret will sleep until Anne’s ready to go home to her own place.’

  She finally took a breath before rushing on. ‘Mrs Finch is next to the bathroom. And watch out for the boiler – it goes off with a terrible bang and can singe your eyebrows if you aren’t careful. Peggy and Jim sleep on the ground floor off the hall, and Ron’s in the basement with Harvey,’ she added breathlessly as they reached the top-floor landing.

  Julie tried to take it all in, but with so many names to remember, her weary brain just couldn’t cope. She trudged after the lively, chatty girl and followed her into a delightful, sunny room that smelled faintly of beeswax furniture polish.

  It was under the eaves, with a window overlooking the nearby roofs and beyond to a glimpse of the sea. A single bed had been made up with fresh linen and a sprigged eiderdown to match the curtains, which had been lined in blackout material. The cot stood beside it, cosy with miniature sheets and blankets. There was a gas fire, a wardrobe, chest of drawers and bedside table, and in the window alcove was a small dressing table. The sun streamed through the window from a cloudless February sky and shone on the polished furniture and wooden floor, making it cheerful and welcoming.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ Julie breathed. ‘Thanks ever so much, Rita.’

  ‘It was no bother, really,’ she replied, sweeping back her dark curls. ‘I’m just glad to help after all you’ve done for Peggy and Anne.’ She frowned as Julie dumped her bags and gas-mask box on the floor. ‘Haven’t you got any other luggage?’ she asked. ‘Only Ron said you’d come down from London.’

  ‘It’s at me sister’s,’ Julie replied through a vast yawn. ‘I’ve got clean bottles, nappies and formula for William. I’ll collect the rest of it after I’ve had some shut-eye.’

  ‘Right you are,’ Rita said cheerfully as she handed William over. ‘You get your head down for a bit, and if William wakes, don’t worry. One of us will look after him for you.’ She closed the door and hurried back down the stairs.

  Julie gently lowered William into the cot and, without waking him, changed his nappy and covered him with the lovely soft blanket and sheet. Dragging off her coat and kicking off her shoes, she realised she stank of dust and ash and dirt and damp, and she could really have done with a good bath. But she was too tired to worry about that now, a quick scrub with a flannel would have to be enough.

  Having found the bathroom, she didn’t feel up to lighting the rather daunting-looking boiler, so she washed quickly in cold water then traipsed back to her room. The comfortable bed was calling her, and she pulled off her skirt and jumper and clambered in between the sheets in her underwear. Sinking her weary head into the soft pillow, she was asleep before she’d even drawn the blankets to her chin.

  Peggy woke as the door to the waiting room opened. She was surprised to see Ron sitting on the other side of the room with his tatty old slippers on his lap, and a quick glance at the clock on the wall showed that almost four hours had passed since Anne had been rushed into theatre. But the arrival of the doctor swept away all these minor observations, and she pushed back her filthy hair from her face and looked at him fearfully, trying to gauge the seriousness of his news from his expression. She felt her heart thud against her ribs and a surge of hope as he smiled.

  ‘Your daughter is a very lucky young woman,’ he said, taking his briar pipe out of his pocket. ‘She has several oblique fractures to her tibia and fibula, but they were clean breaks, easily reset. These will knit in time as long as we can contain any infection. The quick thinking of Dr Sayers and his nurse meant there was very little blood loss and I was able to repair the damage to the artery.’

  He paused for a moment to light his pipe, and the tense atmosphere in the waiting room heightened.

  ‘But she is very weak,’ he continued solemnly through the cloud of smoke. ‘The trauma of her accident and the onset of labour and delivery have depleted her resources, so I’ve ordered an intravenous drip to help restore her and to fight any infection.’

  ‘But she will recover?’ Peggy sat forward anxiously.

  ‘In time,’ he said with a smile. ‘But she must remain in hospital until we are absolutely sure there is no septicaemia.’

  ‘And if there is?’

  He eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Let us not speculate on the negative, Mrs Reilly. Your daughter is a healthy young woman who has so far come through this ordeal with great fortitude. I have every confidence she will recover.’

  ‘Can we see her?’ asked Jim.

  ‘Not yet. She’s still heavily sedated and needs constant observation by my nurses. I suggest you go home, have a rest and something to eat, and then return this evening.’ He gave them an encouraging smile before turning to leave.

  ‘Do you think we could visit Rose Margaret?’ asked Peggy, gripping Jim’s hand and struggling to feel positive.

  ‘I’ll let the nurses know you’re on your way,’ he said, ‘but make it a short visit, the special baby ward is a busy place.’

  Peggy collapsed back into Jim’s embrace as the doctor left the room. ‘Oh, Jim,’ she sobbed. ‘I tho
ught we’d lost her. I really did.’

  ‘I told you she was tough,’ he murmured as he stroked her hair. ‘Just like her mam. Come on, acushla, dry your tears, put on Da’s old slippers, and we’ll go and see our granddaughter.’

  Peggy blew her nose, eased her painful, bandaged feet into the unsavoury slippers, and tottered, weary to the point of collapse. But she managed to put one foot in front of the other as she shuffled arm in arm with Jim and Ron down the endless corridors to the nursery.

  Rose Margaret was asleep, her sweet rosebud mouth working as if at the breast, her coxcomb of hair dark against the snow white sheet. Cocooned tightly in a soft blanket, she looked like a tiny chrysalis beneath the oxygen tent that had been placed over the special cot.

  Peggy marvelled at the long dark eyelashes that drifted so softly on the peachy cheeks, and felt the tears prick as those tiny lips pursed and little fingers flexed against them. ‘She’s perfect,’ she breathed.

  ‘Aye, that she is,’ murmured Jim, his eyes suspiciously bright. ‘Reminds me of Anne when she was that size. You forget how wee they were, don’t you?’

  Peggy looked up at him, saw the unshed tears and cupped his stubbly cheek. ‘I do love you, Jim Reilly,’ she murmured, her heart full.

  Ron cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, not quite able to disguise the pride that shone in his eyes as he looked down at the baby. ‘Aye,’ he muttered. ‘She’s a Reilly, so she is.’ He glanced back at Peggy and Jim. ‘Now, if you two have quite finished billing and cooing, I’m in need of me tea.’

  Peggy’s smile was radiant as she linked arms with the two men she loved most in the world and headed for the warmth and comfort of home.

  Chapter Eleven

  JULIE SNAPPED OUT of the nightmare in which she was being buried in a bomb crater, and woke to utter darkness. Disorientated and terrified, she thought for a moment that it had been no dream, but a living horror. But as her senses returned and she breathed in the scent of beeswax and clean linen, she remembered where she was, and shakily reached for the bedside light.

  Almost blinded by the sudden brilliance, she realised someone had drawn the blackout curtains and taken the bag with the nappies, bottles and formula. Her gaze flew to the cot. William wasn’t there.

  Throwing back the bedclothes, she was about to reach for her dirty clothes when she saw her two suitcases standing by the wardrobe. With a sigh of thankfulness, she unpacked her warm dressing gown and, realising it must be the middle of the night, tiptoed hurriedly down the two flights of stairs.

  As she reached the bottom she couldn’t help but see the beautiful cream and navy coach-built pram standing in the hall. It was deep and luxurious, with shining wheels and mudguards, a parcel shelf beneath the sturdy body, and a neat navy rainproof cover. She ran her fingers over it jealously, wondering how much such a magnificent pram might cost, and if she could afford one for William.

  With a sigh of acceptance that such a thing was way beyond her means, she quietly moved towards the flickering light that came from the kitchen, and the murmur of a gentle lullaby being softly hummed.

  Standing in the doorway, Julie felt the tears prick. How perfect this little scene would have been if only it was her mother sitting there, holding the grandson she’d waited for so eagerly. Julie stifled the longing and sniffed back her tears.

  Harvey was lying protectively by Peggy’s heavily bandaged feet as she finished feeding William in the glow from the range fire and continued to sing him to sleep. The dog lifted his head momentarily, decided Julie posed no threat, and returned to his vigil. Peggy looked exhausted, but there was a gentleness to her sweet expression that told Julie she was contented and at peace.

  As Peggy looked up, their eyes met, and they exchanged an affectionate, understanding smile. ‘He’s almost asleep,’ Peggy murmured. ‘I hope we didn’t disturb you.’

  The dog seemed to know Julie needed something to distract her and give her time to compose herself, for, as she sat down, he rested his chin on her lap, demanding to be stroked. ‘I didn’t hear a thing,’ she admitted as she ruffled Harvey’s ears. ‘I was out like a light the minute my head hit the pillow.’

  She glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece and gasped in horror. It was two in the morning. ‘Go to bed, Peggy, you must be exhausted.’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Peggy replied, ‘and when I heard him stirring, I brought him down to keep me company.’ She smiled back at Julie. ‘This is far more restful than listening to Jim snoring, and I thought I should get some practice in before Rose comes home. I’m a bit rusty at coping with such young ones.’

  ‘You certainly look very comfortable,’ said Julie, ‘and so does William. Thank you, Peggy – for everything.’

  Peggy shrugged away her thanks and continued to rock William. ‘You had a visitor this afternoon,’ she said softly. ‘Kath Carter came round with that lovely pram and said she’d love to have that cup of tea with you once you were settled.’

  ‘Kath brought that pram for me?’ Julie gasped. ‘But I thought it must be Anne’s.’

  Peggy shook her head and smiled. ‘Our old pram’s up in Anne’s room.’

  Mortified that she’d forgotten all about their arrangements to have tea this afternoon, and knowing she’d be hard pressed to find the money to pay for such a generous gift, Julie bit her lip. ‘I must pay her back,’ she said, ‘but it might be a while before—’

  ‘You don’t have to fret about that,’ interrupted Peggy. ‘She said to tell you it had been left at the Town Hall by a young mother who was being evacuated to Wales. It cost her nothing, but if you want to give a donation to the rehoming charity, then that’s up to you. She just thought you deserved a “welcome to Cliffehaven” present, saw the pram and knew it was the perfect gift.’

  Julie was overwhelmed by Kath’s thoughtfulness on such a short acquaintance. ‘How kind of her to make such a lovely gesture,’ she managed through a constricted throat.

  Peggy chuckled softly. ‘Kath’s a sweet girl; wears her heart on her sleeve a bit too obviously at times, but she’ll be a true friend, and I’m glad you’ve got to know one another.’

  ‘So am I. We seemed to hit it off straight away and were supposed to meet up this afternoon. But with everything that’s happened, it slipped me mind. I’ll pop in and see her tomorrow while I’m on me rounds.’

  ‘That reminds me,’ said Peggy, ‘Michael Sayers telephoned. You don’t have to be in tomorrow until midday. He says you’ve earned a lie-in,’ she added with a smile.

  Julie smiled back. ‘That’s very kind of him, but it wouldn’t be diplomatic to be late on my first day – there’s nothing more guaranteed to put people’s backs up than if they think the new girl’s taking liberties.’

  ‘You could be right there,’ Peggy murmured. ‘Eunice Beecham certainly won’t stand for any signs of favouritism. But under all that bustle and starch she’s got a good heart,’ she added quickly.

  Julie felt a twinge of foreboding but decided to form her own judgement of this Eunice. ‘Is she the practice nurse?’

  Peggy nodded. ‘She’s been with the doctors for about five years and knows how much they depend upon her now the district nurse has left.’ She sighed. ‘Poor Eunice is in love with Michael, of course, but I suspect it’s unrequited, because over a year has passed since he was jilted and he’s shown no sign of interest in Eunice.’

  ‘Jilted? How awful, poor man.’

  Peggy looked down at the sleeping baby and gently ran her fingers through his golden hair. ‘She left him for a Canadian pilot two days before the wedding. Michael was devastated – they’d been childhood sweethearts, you see.’

  ‘Life is complicated, isn’t it,’ sighed Julie.

  Peggy handed William over. ‘The war just makes it more so – especially for the little ones.’ She became businesslike, gathering up the dirty nappy and empty bottle. ‘I’ve put a bucket and bleach under the sink for the nappies. The copper boiler’s in the basement, so us
e it whenever you need. I know how many of these things a baby can get through.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Peggy. I’ll do our washing and help as much as I can, but are you sure you can cope with William while I’m working?’

  Peggy looked rather startled by her question. ‘Of course I can. Goodness me, haven’t I already said so?’

  ‘But when Rose comes home—’

  ‘I’ll have two of the little darlings to coo over and look after.’ Peggy grinned with delight. ‘It’ll be quite like old times, and I’m looking forward to it, really I am.’

  Julie wasn’t at all sure Peggy knew what she was letting herself in for but decided that tonight wasn’t the time to cast doubts on the situation. She would help as much as she could, and if it proved too hard for Peggy, then she would work part-time to ease the load.

  ‘I’ve left your supper in the larder,’ said Peggy. ‘It just needs warming through. Help yourself to tea or cocoa; there’s enough milk until the milkman comes at five.’

  ‘I could do with a cuppa, and that’s a fact.’

  ‘This is your home for as long as you want it, and you must treat it as such.’ Peggy’s smile was soft and understanding. ‘I realise this can never replace what you’ve lost, but if you ever need to talk, or feel a bit down or lonely, you can always come to me, Julie.’

  Julie felt the onset of tears again and hastily sniffed them back as Peggy gave her a quick hug.

  As they drew apart, Peggy smiled and eyed Julie’s dressing gown. ‘I see you found your cases,’ she murmured. ‘Jim fetched them after we’d been to the hospital.’

  ‘How is Anne?’

  ‘Not really awake yet, but she’s got a good colour and the nurses are looking after her beautifully.’ Peggy gave a deep, tremulous sigh. ‘Her leg’s in plaster from her hip to her toes, poor little love, with it stuck up in the air by a series of pulleys. But she’s been pumped so full of painkillers that she’s hardly aware of anything yet.’