a heartwarming WW1 saga about love and friendship (The West End Girls Book 1)

by Elaine Roberts

  Margaret threw her arms around her sister and wept.

  Annie felt numb; she couldn’t understand how this could happen with no apparent warning. She slowly put her arms around her sister and held her tight. With every tear Margaret cried, Annie’s heart melted a bit more. ‘Did you know?’

  Margaret pulled back and looked at her sister. ‘No.’

  Annie nodded and gulped for air. ‘When did you find out?’

  ‘Early this morning, we couldn’t wake Ma up so I went for the doctor. He told us she didn’t have long so I then ran to the village to send the telegram like Pa instructed.’

  Annie pulled back and stepped around her sister and walked towards her grandfather, who hadn’t stepped out of the doorway.

  Margaret’s voice carried in the cold air. ‘Annie, wait, I haven’t…’

  Annie didn’t look round. Her eyes didn’t leave her grandfather’s face. As she got nearer she could see where his tears had left their mark. She stood in front of him, neither of them speaking for a moment. ‘I’m too late, aren’t I?’

  William Cradwell shook his head. ‘No, I think she’s waiting for you to get here.’

  Without a word Annie hitched up her skirt and ran past him. She flew up the stairs to her mother’s usual bedroom. The door was open. Annie took a deep breath. She tried to calm herself. She knocked and stepped into the room. Annie stood next to her father, who was gently holding onto his wife’s hand, and stared at the frail lady that was her mother. Her eyes were closed. Her skin was almost translucent and she looked thinner than she was when Annie left. She leant over and kissed her mother’s forehead, her skin cool against her lips.

  ‘Annie, thank goodness you’re here.’ Tom stood up and gave his daughter a hug.

  ‘Pa, Arthur Bradshaw got me home. I don’t think I would have made it without him.’ Annie walked around the bed and sat down on the wooden chair that had been placed next to it. Her eyes welled up and everything was a blur. She sniffed and ran her hands over her eyes. ‘The telegram took my breath away.’

  William nodded. ‘I’m sorry but I thought you would want to know.’

  ‘Of course.’ Annie reached out to take her mother’s hand, sandwiching it between hers. ‘I don’t know if you can hear me, Ma, but I’m here. I love you. Everything’s going to be all right. I’m not going to let you leave, we won’t be able to cope without you.’ She sniffed and forced a smile. ‘Let’s face it, you know I’m rubbish at baking bread so you have to stay around a bit longer to teach me until I get it right. Please fight it, Ma, I promise I’ll not leave again.’ Tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong but you can fight it, you’re a strong woman. Please don’t leave us. You are everything to all of us, it’s you that makes us complete.’ Annie’s chin wobbled but she closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. ‘I should never have left. I thought you looked tired and worn out but I just thought you were overdoing it, not this Ma, please not this.’ Annie lifted her mother’s hand and pressed it against her lips. She felt her mother’s fingers tighten around her hand. ‘You can hear me, can’t you? I love you, Ma, please come back to us.’

  Margaret came quietly into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. She stood up and leant in to kiss her mother’s forehead. ‘I love you, Ma. You’ve been the best mother a girl could ask for and I want to be just like you. I want to do you proud.’

  Annie nodded. Her throat tightened; she didn’t think she would ever be able to speak again. She coughed to try and clear the lump in her throat. ‘Ma, Margaret’s right, you are the best mother a person could have. Don’t worry, we’ll look after Pa and the farm.’

  Her father’s trembling voice filtered through the fog that was engulfing Annie. ‘We’ll talk about all that stuff later.’

  A rattle came from Ivy’s throat and her hands went limp.

  ‘No, Ma, no!’ Annie screamed and threw her head down on the bed.

  Margaret sat quietly, tears streaming down her face.

  ‘I’m sorry, girls. Your ma’s gone. She was just waiting for you, Annie.’ Tom walked over and rested his hand on his daughter’s back and rubbed it up and down. ‘She is with God now, we have to let her fly.’

  Annie looked up, holding her mother’s hand tight. ‘I can’t, Pa, I can’t let her go.’

  Tom pulled up another chair and sat next to Annie. He put his arm around her. ‘She was so very proud of you. Proud that you wanted to carve out your own life.’

  Annie looked at him through red bloodshot eyes. ‘If I’d known, Pa, I wouldn’t have gone. I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me she was ill, I would have given it all up.’

  Tears tripped over her father’s lashes. ‘That’s exactly why she would never have told you if something was wrong. She knew it was important to you.’ He ran a hand over his face. ‘I need to speak to the doctor to ask how long she’d known for, or even if she did know. Not that any of that matters now, it won’t bring her back.’ His voice wobbled. ‘You know your ma was never one for fuss and that’s probably why she wouldn’t have told any of us.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘But Ma was more important. She was everything.’ She looked back at her mother; anyone could be forgiven for thinking she was in a contented sleep because that was exactly how it looked. ‘Oh Pa, I wish I had never left.’

  Tom held back his own tears as he cradled his daughter in his arms while she wept, as he had Margaret earlier that day. He knew he had to be mother and father to his children now, and above everything else he had to do right by Ivy. He would be looking to her for guidance.

  18

  Tom looked at Arthur through weary eyes. ‘Thank you for bringing my daughter home.’ He shook his head. ‘I should be angry with you but can’t believe you’re here. Plus, I don’t have the heart for it.’ He stood up to fill the kettle up. ‘Do you want tea?’

  Arthur stood up. ‘Let me, if it’s not too presumptuous. Let me do something to help at this difficult time.’

  Tom slumped back down again, too tired to argue with the friend he hadn’t seen in years.

  ‘Where are the girls and your father?’

  ‘My father’s having a lie down, I don’t think he can believe it.’ Tom sighed. ‘The girls are in their bedroom looking after each other, and no doubt catching up. It’s been a tough time that’s caught us all unprepared.’

  Arthur nodded. ‘They’ll be all right, once they’ve got over the shock of it. It’ll take time but you have a good family around you. Tom. You’re a good man and they’ll listen to you. Annie’s a lovely girl, you should be proud of her.’ Arthur clattered around as he set about making a pot of tea. ‘This may not be drinkable, I don’t exactly know my way around the kitchen, that’s normally Joyce’s domain.’

  Tom frowned. ‘Joyce? What, Annie’s friend Joyce?’

  Arthur nodded.

  ‘But I thought she was living with her grandmother in London. I don’t understand.’ Tom scowled. ‘You’re not taking advantage of a young girl, are you? Because you might have been my friend at one time but I’ll report you all the same.’

  Arthur turned and faced him. ‘Calm down, I know you haven’t seen me for years but you should know me better than that, and I like to think I’m still your friend.’ He paused and turned back to spooning the tea leaves into the pot. ‘What is it our mas used to say? One for each person and one for the pot, is that right?’

  ‘Don’t ask me.’

  Arthur turned and gave a faint smile. ‘Well, we’ll soon find out.’ The teaspoon chinked against the stoneware of the teapot. ‘Joyce and her father came to stay with me when he had an argument with his mother. She has always called me uncle and her father and I decided to leave it at that. When he died, I didn’t have the heart to send her away.’

  ‘So are you saying Annie and Rose have been living with you since they went to London?’

  Arthur carried the tea things over to the kitchen table. ‘I’m afraid so, and I have to admit I haven�
��t been a very good role model for them but it’s a long story.’

  Tom frowned. ‘I’m sure it is, everything is always a long story with you.’

  ‘I know you’re upset with me and I deserve it. I didn’t write or come back when I said I was only going for a few weeks or whatever it was, but if nothing else, I’ve learnt life is too short to hold grudges and be angry.’ He paused. ‘I have to confess it took me years to learn that and then it’s thanks to your children who showed me the way.’

  Tom sat in silence, watching Arthur pour the tea. He wanted to ask whether Dorothy had visited him in London or not, but he didn’t know if he could cope if she’d passed away as well. ‘Well, you can stay here. David’s room is empty at the moment.’ Tom sighed. ‘I can’t decide whether to let him know about his mother or not. He’ll be angry with me if I don’t, but on the other hand if they don’t let him home for the funeral, he might get his head blown off through lack of concentration.’

  Arthur looked up. ‘It’s not for me to offer advice—’

  ‘But I get a feeling you will anyway.’

  Arthur chuckled. ‘You don’t have to take it. I won’t be offended and was only going to say the trouble is until you’ve told him you won’t know whether he can come home or not, so, in my humble opinion, it’s better that he’s angry with you than you feel responsible for your son’s death.’

  Tom nodded. ‘I’ll sleep on it.’ He picked up his tea and took a gulp. It burnt the inside of his mouth and his throat as he swallowed it. He put the cup back on its matching saucer. ‘So, why didn’t you come back?’

  Arthur frowned and aimlessly stirred his tea. ‘I was never coming back but I was a coward and so was your sister.’

  Tom tightened his lips. ‘Leave my sister out of this. She also disappeared years ago with no contact. I don’t know whether she’s dead or alive.’

  Arthur took a deep breath. ‘I think it’s time to come clean. It’s all been eating away at me anyway so I should just let you do your worst.’ He paused, staring into his tea, not actually knowing what he was going to say. He took another deep breath. ‘I didn’t come back because I thought you might have worked it out.’ He tightened his lips. ‘When I left for the bright lights of London I wasn’t on my own. Dorothy came with me. She pleaded with me for us to leave the village.’

  Tom sucked in his breath. ‘What, and none of you thought to write and tell us? My father has spent years not knowing where his daughter is or whether she was alive or not. Can you imagine what that has been like for him?’ Red spots appeared on his cheeks. ‘I don’t believe you two. How selfish can you be?’

  Arthur shrugged. ‘You’re right but time passed and it felt an impossible thing to do.’ He paused. ‘And, we were dealing with our own stuff.’

  Tom’s eyes narrowed. ‘Like what?’

  A tense silence sat between them.

  ‘Well.’

  Arthur shook his head, blinking quickly to stop the tears from falling yet again.

  ‘What is it? Tell me.’

  ‘Dorothy was pregnant when we left. She… we… were too scared to tell anybody so we felt there was no option but to leave. We didn’t want her to be shunned or for the village gossips to have a field day at her expense.’

  Tom looked stunned. ‘What? Are you saying I have a nephew or a niece?’

  Arthur stood up and paced around the kitchen, getting more agitated with every step.

  Tom stood up. ‘Will you stop pacing? Whatever it is, just let it out.’

  Arthur stopped and stared at Tom. ‘We had a son, William.’

  ‘After my father.’ Tom smiled. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

  Arthur pushed back his shoulders. ‘It was more than good, it was wonderful, and I never knew I could love someone so much.’

  ‘Children do that to you.’ Tom smiled. ‘I can’t wait to meet him.’

  Arthur lowered his eyes and stared hard at the floor tiles. ‘That won’t be possible, Tom.’ He took another deep breath. ‘He died when he was seven years old. He got diphtheria.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Tom shook his head. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. ‘I’m so sorry, I really am, and I can’t begin to imagine the pain you both went through.’

  ‘Well, it hasn’t been easy and I was no use to anyone.’ Arthur sat back down again. Pain was etched in the lines of his face. ‘I threw myself into work. I now own a couple of properties that are rented out, but it didn’t fill the void William left behind. I then took to the bottle to try to drown the pain I was feeling, but that just made matters worse.’

  Tom sat in silence, listening to the rawness of Arthur’s words.

  ‘Anyway, the bottom line is we were both stuck, grief had a firm hold on us and we spent more time apart. I’m ashamed to say I found solace in another’s arms.’ Tom opened his mouth to speak but Arthur held up his hand. ‘Let me finish.’ He clenched his hands together. ‘I’m truly ashamed. It was only a kiss but it was a betrayal all the same. Anyway, Dorothy found out and it was the last straw. She left me in the middle of the night, and I haven’t seen her since.’ He looked at Tom. ‘Have you heard from her at all?’

  Tom shook his head.

  ‘I miss her so much. I have never stopped loving her but we lost each other, we let go.’ Arthur cleared his throat. ‘I wish I knew where she was so I could tell her how sorry I am. I let her down. She didn’t want all the money I was earning but I wasn’t listening, I wanted to be well off but it has cost me everything and now, without her, all that money is no longer important.’ He stared at Tom before lowering his eyes. ‘You asked if I had taken advantage of Joyce and I have—’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘Just not in the way you think.’ Arthur shook his head as his shame took hold. ‘I have been a miserable drunk and Joyce has done her best to look after me over the years, but I’ve treated her like a servant and I’m not proud of it.’

  Tom moved to reach out to his friend but something held him back. ‘It’s obviously very sad but you now know all your drinking doesn’t change anything.’ He paused. ‘You know Ivy taught me lots of things but one was to face things head on. Don’t try to run away because it all just follows you.’

  Arthur nodded. ‘I know that now but I think it’s too late for Dorothy and me.’

  Tom nodded. ‘It may well be, but it isn’t for Joyce. It sounds like you have some making up to do, and to do that you have to face your demons.’

  *

  Rose and Dot had caught the first train out of Paddington they could get. It was dark, the streetlights were no longer lit for fear of helping the Germans, and there were no stars in the sky. The train journey had gone quickly, thanks to Dot revealing her secret. Rose’s heart ached with grief the family would all be feeling at losing David. She just hoped when they finally knocked on the front door, it wouldn’t turn to anger at seeing Dot, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

  The evening held an eerie silence after London. There was no traffic noise or people chatting loudly in the street; it had been replaced by the rustling of the grass as the breeze blew its way through and animals hid in them. An owl could be heard hooting in the distance. The trees stood tall, shadowy figures in the darkness.

  Dot breathed in deeply. ‘You can’t beat the fresh air and the smells of the countryside. I’ve missed all this so much.’

  Rose gave a faint smile. ‘I can’t get to grips with the fact you are Annie’s aunt. It’s madness.’

  Dot frowned. ‘I hope Tom and Ivy are pleased to see me. It has been quite a few years since I left.’

  Rose tucked her arm through Dot’s. ‘I’m sure they will, they are good people and family is everything to them.’

  Dot sighed. ‘I know, but I should have written to them, at least to tell them I was alive and well. The trouble was I was ashamed, and I didn’t want to face them telling me not to come back. It sounds a strange thing to say but all the time they didn’t know why I left, I thought I co
uld go back.’

  ‘I’m sure you couldn’t have done anything that bad. Mind you, everyone knows everyone else’s business here, you are certainly not invisible to the villagers.’

  Dot smiled. ‘That sounds like a voice of experience but trust me, it can be a good thing because when things go wrong everyone does rally round to help.’

  Rose couldn’t resist delving a little further. ‘When you left your husband, were you not tempted to come home then?’

  ‘Of course, it was the obvious place to run to but I’d spent all my life running away from difficult situations and I thought it was time I stood on my own two feet, or at least try. Also, I had already run away from home, so it was a scary thought to come back again on my own and face everyone’s wrath.’

  Rose and Dot’s footsteps grated on the gravel path to Annie’s house. There was no chatter or laughter coming from the fields. Rose gave a slight shiver and pulled at the collar of her coat. The house seemed silent; no light came from the windows. The curtains were shut. Had she done the right thing bringing Dot with her? Was this really the time for a family reunion when emotions would be running high? ‘Do you think we should go to my house and come back in the morning?’

  Dot stopped in her tracks and looked up at the house as though seeing it for the first time. ‘That would be the sensible thing to do, but now I’m here I just need to get this over and done with. Otherwise I’ll change my mind and take the next train back to London and I’ve come too far to do that.’

  Rose sucked in the cold air and nodded. ‘We’d best get it over and done with then.’

  *

  Annie swung her legs out of bed and threw back her bedcovers. She peered over at Margaret, whose steady breathing confirmed that exhaustion had finally caught up with her. The cat lay still snuggled up on the bed. She opened her eyes and watched Annie’s every movement but didn’t move away from Margaret. Annie shivered and quickly grabbed her dressing gown to cover her long-sleeved nightdress. She bent down and put on her slippers before tiptoeing over to the door. She held her breath as she slowly turned the handle, hoping and praying it wouldn’t squeak like it normally did. Not wanting to wake her sister, she squeezed through a small opening. Standing at the top of the stairs, she could hear muffled voices. Annie gasped; she covered her mouth with her hand as she suddenly remembered Arthur. Her father didn’t even know him and now he had to sit and chat with him when he should be left alone to grieve. Annie ran down the stairs, not thinking about the noise her footsteps caused as each step creaked in her wake.