by Annie Groves
Billy couldn’t believe it. Surely not even Bertie would sink this low? ‘This was meant for hospitals,’ he gasped in horror. ‘You’ve been stealing stuff intended to help the sick?’
Bertie shrugged. ‘They’d still have got it in the end. Just had to pay more for it. Now they won’t get it at all.’
Billy gazed at his colleague in complete incomprehension. Didn’t he realise what he was doing? Had he no conscience at all?
‘Don’t be soft, Billy.’ Bertie’s voice was regaining some of its strength. ‘It goes on all the time. I’m not the only one at it. Still, you’ll be pleased. There’s one less person to worry about. Haven’t you noticed what’s over there? What do you think’s making that smell – how many medicines smell like a Sunday roast?’
Billy followed his gaze and his eyes blinked in shock. From behind one of the half-destroyed crates a pair of boots was visible. He had come across several dead bodies now during the course of his ARP duties; the first one had been the worst, but he still recoiled in horror each time, although he took care to hide this from any relatives of the unfortunate victim, or if there were people nearby waiting for his advice. He also knew that many dock workers had lost their lives in the weeks of the Blitz, and this was just one more of a sad and ever-growing list. However, Bertie’s reactions told him this was of some significance.
‘Come and see for yourself. I warn you, it ain’t a pretty sight.’ Bertie moved so that Billy could get a better look. He shifted a few burnt boxes out of the way and glanced down.
It was a man in his twenties, dark-haired, tall and broad of build, his face obscured by a fallen cardboard box. Billy reached in to lift it and gasped in recognition.
‘Happy now?’ Bertie taunted him. ‘He’s not escaping this time. No third time lucky. Knew it was him by his boots – I lent them to him myself. I don’t think I want them back now.’
Billy stared at him, amazed by his callousness. ‘He was working for you,’ he breathed. ‘If you hadn’t cut him in on your deal, he’d still be alive.’
Bertie shrugged. ‘Nah, he was hiding out down here anyhow, so he’d have copped it soon enough one way or another. Now pardon me, Billy, it was nice passing the time of day with you, but I must be off. I don’t intend to end up like him, and if the people who were expecting this stuff delivered learn they aren’t going to get it, then I don’t fancy me chances. So toodle-oo.’
Before Billy could stop him Bertie, having recovered his breath and apparently over the shock, made a dash for it, running out of the remains of the shed and off down the wharf. Billy made no attempt to follow him. Best to let him go.
He returned his gaze to the corpse in front of him, noticing the burned flesh, the grisly black blisters. Perhaps he had passed out through smoke inhalation. It was only human to hope it had been as fast and as painless as possible, even if it must have been a terrible way to die. Yet Billy was aware that his main feeling was relief – because Ray Berry could never hurt Kathleen ever again.
Mattie bounced her growing baby in her arms, gazing into his round little face. His mouth puckered but he didn’t cry. She reached in and touched the tip of his snub nose. ‘Just like your daddy’s,’ she told him.
Flo came out into the back garden to see what they were doing. ‘Don’t let him get cold,’ she warned. ‘There’s a real nip in the air now.’
Mattie tutted. ‘See how well he’s wrapped up. He couldn’t get cold if he tried.’ She shifted so that he was resting more comfortably on her shoulder. ‘I was thinking about all that grass laid over the top of our shelter.’
Flo turned to look at it. They had piled slabs of turf over the metal for better insulation and because it looked nicer, although it had taken a battering from all the falling tiles and flying pieces of burnt debris. ‘What about it?’ she asked.
‘We could grow something more useful there come the spring,’ Mattie suggested. ‘We could have big flowerpots as well, grow our own fruit and veg. You’re always saying that onions are rarer than hen’s teeth now, so we could try to grow our own. Or it wouldn’t have to be flowerpots, we could use anything that was the right size.’
Flo nodded. ‘That’s not a bad idea. Where did you get that from?’
‘Kath said something about it but I was too busy at the time to take much notice,’ Mattie admitted. ‘It’s getting too late now, I suppose, but when the weather warms up again, we ought to try. I don’t want the kids to get rickets.’ Alan wriggled against her and she held him tighter, not wanting to think about him going short of good food. It was up to her to do the best for him, with no Lennie around to sort out the garden.
‘All right then. I’ll ask around to see if anybody has spare seeds we could have,’ Flo replied, taken with the idea. ‘Mind you, we got a winter to get through yet. Once we’ve had a rest from those blessed raids we’ll all feel better. What we need is something to cheer us up.’
Mattie nodded. ‘I been thinking about that too. I want to get Alan christened and do it proper. I know I’m not much of a one for going to church but I think Lennie would like it. There’s no point in waiting for him to come home. We’ll just do it with those who are here, but we could invite everyone back for a special dinner or something like that.’
Flo beamed in delight. ‘That’s exactly what we need. Something to celebrate. If I speak to the vicar this week, then we could get it booked in before Christmas. I can start saving my coupons right away. We’ll have a cold buffet, then everyone can help themselves, and we wouldn’t have to cook as soon as we got back from church …’
‘Hang on, hold your horses,’ Mattie laughed. ‘We don’t have to plan everything right away.’
‘Oh yes we do.’ Flo was in her element now. ‘Come back inside and we can start on a list. If we want to do this thing properly there isn’t a moment to lose. Alan is going to have the best christening party we can manage and that’s all there is to it.’
Billy didn’t bother getting changed after his shift ended. He could hardly bear to wait at the bus stop; if a bus hadn’t come along smartish he would have run all the way to Jeeves Place on nervous energy alone. His desperation to tell Kathleen the news overrode everything.
As he took his seat, he noticed that the older woman next to him looked at his clothing slightly askance, and he realised he had soot on his overalls, as well as the usual dust and sawdust. Then again, plenty of the people on the crowded bus showed signs of having to cope with the bomb-damaged buildings. Perhaps he should have made the effort to smarten up – but that was of secondary importance. Kathleen had to be put out of her fear-filled misery as soon as possible.
A younger woman got on and Billy noticed she was carrying heavy shopping, and so he gave her his seat. He went to stand by the opening at the back of the bus, feeling the cool air on his face, trying to rid his mind of the image of Ray, lying there among the ruined crates. He had had to report the discovery of the body, but it was far from the only one on the docks that day in all the confusion of the clear-up. Nobody had questioned him about the corpse’s identity. There had been nothing on him to pinpoint who he was, and there were so many people coming and going every day in the area that it was no surprise that this one remained unnamed.
As they drew closer to the stop, his heart began to beat faster. He wasn’t sure how Kathleen would react. His palms were sweating as he pressed the buzzer. All he could do was to tell her the truth and reassure her that she would truly never have to endure her husband’s spiteful torment ever again.
Pulling himself together, he walked quickly from the stop to her front door. He could hear the Coynes arguing from halfway down the pavement; Mrs Bishop’s curtain twitched as he passed by. A normal day on Jeeves Place.
‘Billy.’ There she was, dressed in a faded blue blouse that set off the warmth of her colouring, her well-worn dark skirt covered with a print apron around her waist. Her eyes lit up at once at the sight of him, but then immediately clouded with anxiety. ‘You’ve got news?�
� Her voice was full of dread.
He wanted to sweep her into his arms at once but instead he said, ‘Yes, it’s important. Can I come in?’
She stood back to let him pass and then closed the door against the gossips’ hungry ears.
‘Where’s the boy?’ Billy asked, glancing around for signs of Brian.
‘He’s round at Mattie’s. I took the chance to have a good clean and just finished. Do you want a cup of tea? I was going to have one.’ Kathleen was talking very quickly.
‘Sit down, Kath.’ For once Billy didn’t care about tea or anything else. It was lucky that Brian wasn’t there; they could get all the details out of the way without scaring him. Billy waited until she took a seat at the little table, watching him closely, uncertainty written all over her face.
‘What’s—’ she began.
‘Ray’s dead.’ He didn’t give her a chance to say any more. ‘He really is. There’s no coming back this time. He got caught in a warehouse fire and collapsed. I saw his body with my own eyes. There’s no mistaking him, so you can be completely sure. He’s gone, Kath. He won’t ever trouble you again.’
For a moment she didn’t speak or move, but simply stared at him.
‘It’s true, Kath. I swear it on my own life.’
Slowly she brought her hands up and covered her face. ‘Oh, Billy. Oh my God.’ Then she looked up at him, her shoulders shaking, her eyes wet. ‘I almost don’t dare believe it. I thought I was safe before and then he came back and I was so terrified … I thought that might be him at the door when you knocked. I hid the spare key but he might have tried to get in somehow anyway. I’ve been jumping at every noise. That’s why Brian’s not here, I keep him away when I can.’
‘Now you don’t have to.’ He gazed at her, at the lines of worry slowly leaving her face.
‘No.’ She shook her head slowly, as if taking it in. ‘He’s really dead. It’s wrong to say it, but thank God, thank God.’
‘You’re safe, Kath. You and Brian.’ Billy took a step closer. He hesitated. ‘You’re a free woman now. You really are.’
Kathleen met his gaze and her mouth slowly broke into a smile. ‘I am. I really am.’ She ran one hand through her hair, as if adjusting to the new idea. ‘Even when I thought I was before, you know, when that telegram came, I didn’t feel it. I was so guilty at being glad he’d gone. I wasn’t free at all, really.’
‘I know, Kath.’ He pulled the other wooden chair across so he could sit beside her. Tentatively he reached for her hand, and it trembled beneath his fingers.
‘Thank you, Billy. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’ Her expression was serious now as she stared into his grey-blue eyes. ‘If it hadn’t been for you I’d have gone crazy. You’ve never turned me away, even when you were working so hard. I don’t blame you if you and Belinda …’
He sat back, puzzled. ‘Hang on, if me and Belinda what?’
She looked away. ‘You know. I heard … you’d been seen together. So if you and her—’
‘No, no, stop right there.’ He hurried to put her right. ‘I’ve walked her home a couple of times and that’s all. She’s a lovely girl but honestly, Kath, how could you even think such a thing? There’s only one woman for me.’ He paused. ‘Kath, you must know that. There’s only ever been one.’
She turned back and met his gaze once more, her eyes now alive with hope.
‘Really, Billy?’
He swallowed hard and gathered his courage. ‘Of course. It’s you, Kath, it’s always been you.’ He waited, on tenterhooks, unsure if he’d said too much, if it was too soon, or if he’d misread her. Perhaps she had only wanted friendship all this time and he had let his longing for her cloud his judgement.
Then she reached around and hugged him, half laughing, half crying, her tears falling on his neck. ‘Billy, I was so afraid you’d chosen her, that it was too late for us.’
He leant back to study her face. ‘No, Kath, never. I just wanted to give you time, to adjust to being a widow and all that … it can’t be too late for us. Not if you want us to be together as much as I do.’
‘I want it more than anything.’ She dashed the tears away with her free hand. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s what I’ve wanted for ages, only I never dared to say.’
He took her other hand in his and squeezed her fingers very gently. ‘I love you, Kathleen Berry.’
She gave a gasp and then smiled the broadest smile he had ever seen. ‘And I love you, Billy Reilly. There, I’ve said it out loud. I’ve felt like telling you for years but I couldn’t.’
‘Now you can.’ He pulled her to her feet.
‘Now I can.’ She leaned forward and he held her as he had longed to do for so long, kissing her gently and then more passionately until she gasped and pushed him a little away, her face flushed. ‘Oh Billy. If I didn’t have to go to fetch Brian …’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said, pushing his hair back off his face and only then remembering how dusty he was. ‘We’ve all the time in the world now, Kath.’
She hugged him again, planting a kiss against his chest. ‘We have, haven’t we. The rest of our lives – and we can be together at last.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
‘Lots of post this morning!’ Alice waved a collection of envelopes at Edith and Mary, who were finishing their toast and porridge. For once they’d had an unbroken night, even though Mary had had to attend an accident in the middle of the evening. Compared to the non-stop sirens and anti-aircraft guns, though, it counted as restful. Someone had turned up the wireless to celebrate, and Glenn Miller’s ‘In the Mood’ filled the room, accompanied by the scraping of cutlery as the young women ate their breakfasts.
Mary accepted hers with a happy nod. ‘From my godmother,’ she said, ripping the letter open with her thumbnail and scanning it. ‘She wants to take me for tea at Claridge’s. It would be rude to say no, wouldn’t it?’
Edith grinned. ‘It certainly would. You have a very kind godmother. That’s something to aspire to.’
Mary frowned, confused. ‘What do you mean? Have you been asked to be a … Oh, I see. Congratulations.’
Edith blushed a little. ‘I’m tickled to bits, to be honest, and I never thought Mattie would ask, specially as I’m Catholic and strictly speaking shouldn’t even go to the church. But it’s all different in war, isn’t it? So I said yes.’
Mary looked stern. ‘So what will you wear to the christening? You can’t wear your old coat, pardon me for saying so, but it’s showing its age.’
Edith pulled a face.
‘Well, it is. It’s only fair that someone tells you, and you know I have your best interests at heart,’ Mary pointed out. ‘I’d lend you something only I’m bigger than you. My clothes would swamp you. We’ll have to think of something.’ She rose to leave, picking up her plate and bowl.
‘How about you, Al?’ asked Edith. ‘You’re coming too, aren’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ said Alice. ‘Mary, would you lend me your dark green handbag? It would go with my scarf with the leafy patterns on it and then it wouldn’t matter if everything else was plain.’
‘Of course.’ Mary was only too happy to oblige. ‘After all, you lent me that scarf when I fancied a change, the last time Charles took me to the cinema. It’s only fair.’
‘You could wear it to Claridge’s as well,’ Edith suggested.
‘That’s a good idea.’ Mary was pleased. ‘I must be off, see you later.’
Alice watched her go and then said, ‘So what are your letters, Edie?’
Edith flicked through them. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said when she saw the scrawled writing on the final one. ‘Unless I’m mistaken …’ She ripped it open. ‘No. There’s only one person with terrible writing like this. It’s my young brother Frankie.’
Alice’s eyes widened.
‘Yes, you might well stare,’ said Edith. ‘Who’d have thought it?’ She skimmed the singl
e page of cheap notepaper. ‘Well. That’s a turn-up for the books.’
Alice raised her eyebrows. ‘What does it say?’
‘I suppose it was asking too much for it to be a thank-you letter,’ Edith said, but she didn’t sound bitter. ‘It’s a bit late in the day, but he’s letting me know the money arrived. No thanks or anything like that, but the very fact he’s written – it’s a big step for him. At least I don’t have to worry about him, or not as much as I did when Mick had a go at me.’
‘Edie, I’m really pleased for you.’ Alice knew her friend would never have admitted to wondering what had happened to the money and her wayward brother. ‘Perhaps he’ll come round in time.’
‘Perhaps.’ Edith was keen to change the subject. ‘And what have you got there?’
Alice opened her letter. ‘It’s from Joe.’
‘Can he come to the christening?’
‘No.’ Alice sighed. ‘Well, we didn’t think he would. They won’t let him go all that way for his nephew. It’s why Mattie has asked Billy to be godfather, isn’t it? He’ll be able to be there in person.’
‘That and he’ll be a lovely godfather,’ Edith predicted. ‘You know what he’s like with Brian and Gillian. Alan will be a lucky little boy to have Billy watching over him. I’m sorry Joe won’t be there too, though.’
‘Can’t be helped,’ said Alice, trying not to let her disappointment show. She knew it would have been a very long shot, but part of her had hoped that he would have managed to persuade the powers that be to give him leave. She would have to wait for that very special friend to return. ‘I’d better get ready. I’m due to see Dennis first thing. Check how he’s coming on now he’s walking more regularly.’
‘Do give him and his mother my best,’ Edith said, full of admiration for the teenager recovering from the tubercular hip and his long-suffering mother. Alice nodded and took her breakfast things away to be washed. Once she had gone, Edith turned to her final letter, with its Portsmouth postmark. Gently she eased it open and then, as she read the precious words, her face broke into a smile of excited delight.