Born in Lancashire, FREDA LIGHTFOOT has been a teacher and a bookseller, and in a mad moment even tried her hand at the ‘good life’. A prolific and much-loved saga writer, Freda’s work is inspired by memories of her Lancashire childhood and her passion for history. For more information about Freda, visit her website: www.fredalightfoot.co.uk
Also by Freda Lightfoot
Historical Sagas
Lakeland Lily
The Bobbin Girls
The Favourite Child
Kitty Little
For All Our Tomorrows
Home is Where the Heart Is
Gracie’s Sin
Daisy’s Secret
Ruby McBride
Dancing on Deansgate
Watch for the Talleyman
Polly’s Pride
Polly’s War
House of Angels
Angels at War
The Promise
My Lady Deceiver
Always in My Heart
The Luckpenny Series
Luckpenny Land
Wishing Water
Larkrigg Fell
Poorhouse Lane Series
The Girl from Poorhouse Lane
The Woman from Heartbreak
House
Champion Street Market Series
Putting on the Style
Fools Fall in Love
That’ll Be the Day
Candy Kisses
Who’s Sorry Now
Lonely Teardrops
Women’s Contemporary Fiction
Trapped
Historical Romances
Madeiran Legacy
Whispering Shadows
Rhapsody Creek
Proud Alliance
Outrageous Fortune
Biographical Historical
Hostage Queen
Reluctant Queen
The Queen and the Courtesan
The Duchess of Drury Lane
Lady of Passion
Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Also by Freda Lightfoot
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Extract
Copyright
Chapter One
May 1945
The celebrations for the end of the war had gone wild, the streets on VE Day packed with jubilant revellers all singing, dancing and laughing, much to Joanne’s delight. There were rosettes, flags and bunting all around; lights on everywhere and a band playing. Her gaze shifted to the lilting waves as they lapped below the North Pier. She felt quite familiar with all the moods of the sea from gentle and benign, as it was today, to fiercely destructive when towering waves would fly over the promenade and small boats could be battered. Having adopted HMS Penelope, a ship the locals supported, they were devastated when it was tragically hit by a torpedo near Italy in 1944 and sank, killing 400 men. There had been a dreadful plane crash on Central Station and an air disaster in nearby Freckleton when a B-24 Liberator had crashed into the village school and houses killing over fifty people and dozens of children. The many airports had endured some problems throughout the war but the town had still welcomed holidaymakers in need of a little fun, and had generously provided accommodation to thousands of evacuees, including herself and her younger sister. Fortunately, Blackpool had suffered fewer disasters than many other places, certainly much less than Joanne’s hometown of Manchester. Life seemed to be rather like the sea, one moment calm and benevolent, the next cruel and harsh because of the horrors of war. But they’d found it a great place to live.
Thankfully the war was at last over, so hopefully things would improve. Looking out across the calm blue Irish Sea, the sandy beach was smooth and golden, stretching for some distance. Joanne had brought some sandwiches and cakes to contribute to the party they would all enjoy later. She’d even seen someone bring along a stack of odd-looking yellow pieces of fruit, which were apparently bananas, not something she’d ever tasted, and she greatly looked forward to savouring them.
‘God save the King,’ somebody called out. Cheers of joy met this cry, turning it into the national song.
Joanne glanced at her watch. Half past three. Her afternoon break would generally be almost over at this point. Lunchtime at the boarding house where they lived, the two landladies having cared for them this last three years, had been busy as usual with many wives having come to visit their RAF husbands. Joanne always looked forward to an hour or two of freedom in the middle of the afternoon when she could refresh herself in the sea air and sunshine. Those two dear sisters, Aunt Annie and Aunt Sadie, readily encouraged her to take a break, and today being one of celebration, there was no demand for her to rush back to work. No doubt they too were around somewhere enjoying this celebration. From where she stood on the promenade close to the Tower and the North Pier, Joanne watched her sister Megan happily dancing with Bernie, their landladies’ nephew. He’d first asked Joanne but she’d politely declined, anxious to sit and wait for Teddy to come, knowing in her heart that she could love no man but this GI.
Oh, but why hadn’t he arrived when he’d promised that he would, knowing she so enjoyed dancing with him? He was a most dapper and exciting GI, billeted in Garstang. Joanne did once visit him there to attend a dance at the village hall. She’d been shown around the camp, tripping along duckboards in her heeled shoes to view the Nissen huts, cookhouse and officers’ mess. It was a bit of a dump, packed with gallon drums, jeeps, fuel; wet clothing hanging on hedges or trees to dry that didn’t look at all proper. He’d taken her to see the tent where he and his mates were accommodated and had given her a cuddle and a kiss. She took care that he did no more than that, not wishing to be taken advantage of. Many girls were happy to lose their virginity with a man who could be killed in the war, something they felt they should not object to. Joanne was far more cautious being only seventeen, very young and innocent.
Oh, but how she loved him. These GIs were most attractive men and happy to come into Blackpool to visit one of the many pubs on the promenade, or enjoy the dancing at the Tower Ballroom, sometimes dressed as a civvie instead of in their uniform.
After the dance she and Teddy would often take a drink in a pub and she would sit on his lap for him to kiss and caress her, sending her senses skittering at the thrill of his touch. More often than not there were other girls hovering close by. Joanne paid them no heed, accustomed to the fact that these guys were never short of admirers, being popular men. And she was perfectly certain that Teddy viewed her as his favourite girl. Hadn’t he told her so a million times?
So why wasn’t he here on this special day? There was so much she felt the need to say to him now the war was over. Joanne gave a sigh and stood up, brushing away the sand that had blown onto her skirt.
When a hand lightly touched her shoulder she felt a frisson of reco
gnition. He’d arrived at last. Instantly filled with pleasure and excitement, Joanne quickly turned to give him a hug, eager to welcome him while inside she felt in complete turmoil. Did she dare to tell this man how much she dreamed of a happy future together? ‘Oh, Teddy, it’s so wonderful to see you. This day of celebration is such a thrill. I’ve missed seeing you this last couple of weeks,’ she softly told him.
He gave her a wink. ‘I’ve missed you too, honey. All my mates are revelling in VE Day, so why wouldn’t I do that too?’ he blithely responded. ‘It’s a great cause for us guys who’ve worked hard for you Brits during the war.’
‘Thankfully you’ve been spared the trauma that many have suffered. I’m so thrilled you are still fit and willing to join us.’ Joanne felt utterly breathless. His face was mere inches from her own, so irresistibly close that her heart pummelled with anticipation. His sculpted mouth curled into an entrancing smile and she ached to taste it and stroke his soft cheeks. This handsome GI was so intoxicating, such a wonderful and fun man and no doubt a hero as many American troopers were.
As he stroked away a curl of her fair hair, his blue eyes gleaming with admiration, Joanne twinkled her gaze provocatively up at him, desperately hoping the sight of her in this new blue dress that hugged her figure in a most becoming way would captivate him. She’d clipped some of her blonde hair up on top of her head into rolled bangs and the rest fell neatly over her shoulder. She’d also patted her pale face with a little powder and wore a bright red lipstick, eager to look as attractive as possible.
As if recognizing this emotion in her he gave a wicked smile and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘You’re such a pretty girl, honey.’ Then licking the soft curve of her upper lip, he slid his hand over her cheek and neck.
Blushing with delight at this compliment, Joanne found her breathing quicken under the thrill of his caresses. Seconds later she was held in his arms where she’d most longed to be during all these endless days of waiting to see him again. How fortunate she was to receive the attention he was giving her. His hands rested possessively around her back, his cheek lay against hers and he was pressing her hard against his tall, strong body to give her a passionate kiss. Her heart raced and she felt slightly giddy at the quiver of his tongue as it probed her mouth, the enticing warmth of him running through her like fire. Oh, how she adored him.
It was then that she became aware of a young woman standing close by. Doe-eyed and attractive, she was clinging fast to his arm. Shrugging her casually off, he whispered in Joanne’s ear, ‘Not too impressed with this festivity. Don’t we usually slip away somewhere quiet on our own, which is far more entertaining, huh? Let’s take a walk along the beach, honey.’
Joanne had always loved the time they’d spent walking barefoot on the beach together, holding hands and enjoying the comforting sounds of the sea. He would talk about his dreams for a new career once the war was over and she would happily listen, hoping to be a part of his plan. He’d also succeeded on numerous occasions to persuade her to join him in some quiet Nissen hut near Squire’s Gate airport, or in his jeep, where they would hug and kiss. She felt completely smitten by his attention to her.
Today the promenade was packed with hundreds of folk having fun, plus horse-drawn carriages and GI jeeps scuttling around. Glancing across at her sister, who was now dancing with a young boy, she hesitated. Megan was still quite young, about to turn eleven come September. Being only five at the start of the war she had at first badly missed their mother and suffered much in the way of trauma. Mam had used to write to them quite regularly, but then there came a time that whenever she or Megan wrote to her they failed to receive a reply. They’d entirely lost contact with their mother, perhaps because she’d moved or was dead. Megan being something of a shy, awkward girl, greatly in need of care, was convinced their mother had lost interest in them. How could they know? Not certain they would ever find her again, Joanne thought of herself as a surrogate mother, so felt entirely responsible for looking after her sister.
Bearing all this in mind she should maybe stay close to her right now, but the loud sound of music playing was destroying all hope of her speaking to Teddy, which Joanne felt desperate to do. Walking along the beach would be much more private. Noting his admiring gaze fixed upon her, Joanne found the prospect of spending time alone with him far too irresistible to refuse. Giving him a nod, she said, ‘I am looking forward to dancing with you but we could take a short walk first, although not too far.’
‘’Course not, honey.’
Giving the other young woman’s furious expression a charming smile of apology, Joanne linked her arm with his and let him lead her away from the promenade down the steps to the beach. Would she now have the opportunity to ask the question she longed for an answer to? How to go about that was not easy to decide.
They walked for some distance along the beach close to the sea, feeling the coolness of tiny waves splashing against their feet, causing them to jump and giggle. Once they reached the quiet area below the North Pier, he leaned his back against a pillar and pulled her tightly into his arms. Joanne eagerly welcomed more of his passionate kisses, giving a little sigh of pleasure as he slid his hands over her breasts and stomach. When he pushed her down onto the sand, tugged up her skirt to caress her thighs and pressed hard against her private parts, she squealed. Whether that was his hand or another part of him pressing into her she felt too naive to understand. A sense of panic overwhelmed her and, pushing him away, she gave him a frown, lightened with a small, fetching smile.
‘Don’t be naughty, Teddy, we aren’t married. Although were you to ask me to go home with you to America to become your darling wife I might well say yes, having spent so many happy months with you and absolutely adoring you.’
Leaning back, he gave her a rueful smile. ‘Oh my, how irresistible you are, sweet, shy and prudish little Joanne. I adore you too. Wish that could be possible.’
‘Why would it not be?’ It surprised her that he was accusing her of being prudish, considering what she’d just allowed him to do. Had she said the wrong thing by having finally admitted what she dreamed of and how much she loved him?
‘We guys have to go through quite a long process to receive the necessary permission for that,’ he said, giving a sparkling smile before he kissed her again, proving how the glory of his desire had lit a certainty within her that he was in love with her.
‘Oh, I see. I should make it clear that when you manage to arrange our future together my young sister must also accompany me to America and remain a part of my life. You need to understand how very much she depends upon me. I’m sure you will accept that as you have no wish to lose me,’ she coyly remarked, giving him an enchanting smile. ‘Will you write and let me know when you wish us to join you?’
‘Hey, sure thing, honey. I’ll give that some attention once I get back home, find a job and sort my life out.’
Excitedly waiting for more details of where he lived and when he was leaving, she was startled when a tribe of his pals suddenly appeared by his side and they started to punch and laugh at each other. The expression in his blue eyes now looked much more obsessed with these other Yanks than with her. He lifted her up in his arms, gave her a warm hug and one more kiss, smoothing his lips over hers, his tongue again dipping into her mouth. Then he whispered in her ear, ‘Sorry, can’t hang around any longer. We gotta go now!’
What he seemed to be saying did not fully register in the fuzz of emotion that clouded her brain. ‘Oh, no, please don’t go back to the camp yet. I want you to stay and dance with me on this day of celebration.’
After giving a burst of laughter, he said, ‘I’m aware of your fondness for dancing, honey. It’s been great to spend time with you. Have fun and enjoy life, now this blasted war is over.’ He released her and flung his arms around his mates. Joanne felt a cold wind blow over her as she watched them race away then up the steps to the promenade, jump into a jeep and, giving her a wave, they drove away. It came to h
er in that terrifying moment that these GIs were not simply returning to the camp in Garstang or Warton Military Site where some of them were stationed, but heading back to the United States of America. And she had no notion of where Teddy lived in that far away country, since he’d been interrupted by his mates before getting round to giving her such detail.
Oh, what anguish Joanne felt at losing him. She could but hope he would write to her, knowing she lived with those dear landladies in Jubilee House, once he’d sorted his life out as promised. Or might he forget all about her? What a dreadful prospect. And having lost contact with her mother, as well as their dear brother Danny, uncertain whether either of them was alive or dead, Joanne worried that she might never find any love in her life ever again.
Chapter Two
Evie, her niece Cathie and friend Brenda had together enjoyed the VE celebration for the end of the war. Many local merchant seamen had delivered food for the party, including non-rationed pork, which they’d happily roasted for everyone. What a treat that had been. Now the three of them were sitting in Campfield Market, each savouring a delicious custard tart. The outside market was bustling with people as always, today all chatting and laughing, singing and joking. Here, in the inside market at their favourite café, it was quiet and more relaxed, happily surrounded by smiling faces. Evie watched as a pretty young girl tried on a red felt wide-brimmed hat at Higginson’s millinery stall, turning her head this way and that to admire herself in the mirror, perhaps her way of celebrating.
An ache punctuated her heart as Evie recalled how she’d seen very little of her son and even less of her daughters, Joanne and Megan, since they’d been evacuated. They had spent a brief spell at home back in 1940, when it had initially appeared to be a phoney war, but once the bombing started they were again evacuated.
At first they’d remained easily in touch and she’d gone to help her girls when concerned about the way they were being treated by one family they’d been billeted with. A short time later she’d received no further letters from them to say where they were living, probably because they’d been moved around quite a bit. Evie had too, sadly losing their first home and had rented many other single rooms since. During the Christmas Blitz when one of the grain elevators had been bombed, buildings had collapsed and burned for days afterwards. Many mills and warehouses, including the one she’d worked for, had also suffered fires. How tragic that had been. It had turned into a nasty war, not least to lose touch with her daughters. She’d had to endure severe rationing, hard work at a different mill and the anguish of not knowing whether her missing husband was dead or alive. At times Evie’s strong resilience had faded because of this heart-rending pain and exhaustion. Even now she felt a slur of anguish within her as she longed to have her family back. Would they too be enjoying this celebration?
Peace In My Heart Page 1