by Ellie Dean
‘Do we have to, Mummy?’ whispered Elsie into Marjorie’s shoulder.
George balled his fists in his lap and sat very stiffly next to Richard, saying nothing.
Marjorie looked to Ivy who nodded and tried to silently convey that it was important the meeting took place.
Marjorie seemed to understand. ‘I think we should,’ she said, kissing the top of Elsie’s head and reaching across to put her hand over George’s tight fists. ‘They’ve come a long way to see you both, and it would be rude and churlish not to let them.’
She looked at her husband, and together they coaxed the children off the couch and held their hands as they walked into the hall.
‘Thanks ever so,’ breathed Ivy to Marjorie as they paused outside the kitchen door. ‘I expect you ’eard part of that conversation, and I’m ’oping that meeting the kids will convince them I made the right decision.’
Marjorie was pale and drawn, but there was determination in her eyes as she nodded and opened the door.
The two men were standing and seemed to fill the kitchen as Ivy made the introductions and they all shook hands. Their eyes widened at the sight of the smart uniforms, and they suddenly appeared less sure of themselves when Marjorie asked pleasantly in her plummy voice if they’d travelled very far to get here.
‘We come ashore at Portsmouth,’ Stanley replied bashfully. ‘But went all the way to Cliffehaven afore we was told Ivy were ’ere.’
‘That must have been quite a journey,’ said Richard, carefully avoiding looking at the tattoos. ‘But then I expect you’re used to a lot of travelling, being in the Royal Navy,’ he blustered, clearly intimidated by the brothers’ height and width.
‘It’s the Merchant Navy,’ replied Stanley, squaring his broad shoulders. ‘And yes, we got to know the Atlantic pretty well over the past five or so years.’
Richard reddened, but Mick broke the awkward moment by advancing on the silent and rather sullen George. ‘Wotcha, Georgie,’ he boomed jovially, ruffling the boy’s hair and making him wince. ‘Blimey, you ain’t ’alf a big lad. I reckon you take after me and yer grandad and would do well in the ring.’ He grinned and faked a few air-punches at the boy’s midriff. ‘Do any boxing, do yer?’
‘I play rugger for the first fifteen at school,’ George replied stiffly.
Mick’s grin faded and he eyed the boy thoughtfully. ‘Good fer you, lad,’ he murmured. ‘Union or League?’
It was George’s turn to be surprised. ‘Union.’
‘A proper gent’s game, that is,’ said Mick, nodding. ‘I’m prop forward for the Navy team, and we rarely lose a game. What position do you play?’
‘Number eight,’ he replied reluctantly, looking down at his shoes.
‘Back row and fast on yer feet with good ’ands to carry the ball,’ said Mick with approval.
George nodded and brought the short conversation to a halt by turning away to stand by his sister and hold her hand as Stanley talked to her.
‘There ain’t no need to be afraid,’ said Stanley, bending down to Elsie’s level and keeping his voice low. ‘I’m yer big brother, see, and I just come to make sure you’re all right.’
‘I’m very well, thank you,’ she replied, peeking at him through her fringe.
‘Ivy says you wanna stay ’ere, and not go back to London with ’er,’ he continued. ‘Is that right, Elsie?’
Tears trembled on her lashes as she nodded. ‘I don’t want to leave Mummy and Daddy,’ she whispered tremulously. ‘Please don’t make me go.’
Stanley sighed and would have stroked her cheek if the child hadn’t flinched away from his large hand. ‘Oh, darling, I ain’t gunna make you do nothing you don’t want,’ he said softly. ‘Me and Mick just needed to know you’re ’appy ’ere, that’s all. So don’t cry, please.’
‘I think it’s time you left,’ said Ivy firmly. ‘You’ve seen how things are ’ere, and must realise it was the only decision I could make.’
‘Yeah,’ sighed Mick. ‘Yer right, gel. They fit in ’ere like an ’and in a glove. We won’t make no trouble about the adoption.’
‘But you’d better look after them,’ said Stanley, waving a meaty finger at the startled Johnsons. ‘Or you’ll ’ave me and Mick to deal with. Understand?’
‘’Course they will,’ snapped Ivy, giving both brothers a push in the back. ‘Now get out of ’ere and leave us in peace.’
Stanley roared with laughter as he let her propel him into the hall. ‘She’s a right little firecracker, ain’t she, Mick? Reminds me of Mum. That Andy better watch ’is step or ’e’ll never know what ’it him.’
Ivy opened the front door and walked with them down the path to the garden gate. ‘When are you going back to sea?’
‘In three weeks,’ said Mick. ‘We got extra compassionate leave ’cos of Mum and Dad.’ He looked down at her and smiled. ‘I’m sorry you’ve ’ad to deal with everything on yer own, Ivy, but at least it looks as if them kids are settled all right.’
‘When will you two settle down?’ she asked. ‘Surely you’re not planning to be at sea for the rest of your lives?’
Stanley shrugged and pulled at his beard. ‘It’s a good life, gel. Three square meals a day, girls in every port and we get paid to see the world. What more could a bloke want?’
Put that way, Ivy rather envied them and certainly saw their point. ‘Just promise you’ll write to me now and then,’ she said. ‘It’s only us now, and Mum and Dad wouldn’t have liked it if we lost touch.’
‘Yeah, we’ll send a postcard when we got time,’ said Mick. ‘And try to get to see you when we’re next on ’ome leave.’
‘Don’t do me no favours,’ she sniffed.
Stanley laughed. ‘Touchy little mare,’ he said fondly before lifting her off her feet and planting a smacking kiss on her cheek.
‘You take care of yerself,’ said Mike, holding her in a bear hug which almost squeezed the breath out of her. ‘And treat that Andy right. He sounds a nice bloke.’
Ivy felt quite dizzy from their rough affection as she watched them stroll towards the centre of town and the bus station, their rolling gait proof of their years on the high seas. She had no idea when she’d see them again, but prayed she would. They were her brothers – and the three of them were the only ones left out of a family of eight. Their parents certainly wouldn’t rest easily in their graves if the survivors became further estranged and lost one another.
19
Peggy had left Daisy sleeping and was up and dressed earlier than usual that Saturday morning for a number of reasons. Cordelia had a nasty cold and needed to be persuaded quite firmly to stay in bed, and she had to wake Ivy, who’d arrived home late last night from her week in Salisbury, so they could be at the station in time to see Ruby and Andy on their way. Rita was already up and about even though she’d finished her last shift at the fire station the previous day, but there was no sign of life from the others yet, which gave Peggy a chance to get breakfast prepared and hang out the few bits of washing she’d done earlier.
Carrying the basket out to the washing line she felt chilled in the shadows of the houses, for although the sky was virtually cloudless and it promised to be a lovely day, the sun had yet to breach the roofs and warm the back gardens. Peggy hung out her bedlinen and underwear, noting that the few remaining chickens looked contented enough in their run as they pecked at the feed she’d thrown down, and Ron’s spring vegetables were coming along nicely.
However, Peggy still couldn’t get used to not seeing the ugly Anderson shelter huddled against the back garden wall. It had been there – a blot on the landscape, and dubious hideaway during the bombing – since the council workers had set it up in 1939, and now Ron had dismantled it, she rather strangely missed it. But the seed potatoes Ron had planted once he’d dug, hoed and fertilised the dead ground would certainly come in handy, for they cost sixpence for five pounds in the shops, and that could add up over the week with so many to feed.
She shook the creases out of a wet blouse and tethered it to the line with a wooden peg, her thoughts drifting to all that had happened in the three days since Ruby’s wedding. Kitty and Charlotte had returned from Argentina to Briar Cottage with Roger and the children on Thursday night, and although Peggy hadn’t had the time to go up there to see them, she’d managed to have a long and rather disturbing conversation with Kitty over the telephone.
Kitty had explained Roger’s state of mind and health well enough to give her a vivid idea of how much he was struggling both physically and mentally to fit into family life again. According to Kitty he hardly slept, and when he did he was troubled by nightmares which made him shout and sweat and writhe about. During their time in Argentina he’d seemed to prefer being alone and would wander off into the pampas for hours on end until her father had got so worried he’d been on the point several times of getting together a search party.
However, he’d always returned – sadly, quiet and lost in his own world – not at all like the jolly, fun-loving man Kitty had married. Now they were home again, he’d taken to haunting the abandoned airfield at Cliffe, wandering through the empty huts and hangars as if looking for the comrades he’d lost.
Peggy gave a deep sigh. Poor Kitty was terribly worried and rather frightened by the change in her husband, and both she and Charlotte had agreed he needed to be taken out of himself and given something to do – which was why they were now looking into the purchase of a second-hand plane so they could start up the air transport business they’d been planning since the men had been captured.
Peggy suspected that both girls also needed this distraction after losing Freddy, and wondered if the same thing was happening with Martin down in Somerset. She’d heard nothing from Anne since his arrival, and was very uneasy at the thought of her daughter and grandchildren having to cope with such a painful and distressing situation. She’d tried telephoning, but the line was either busy or no one answered, which was most frustrating, and she decided then and there that if she hadn’t heard anything by this evening, she’d ring again and keep on ringing until someone picked up at the other end.
Peggy raised the line with the forked wooden prop so any wind would catch the washing, checked the time, and went to lean on the garden gate to smoke a cigarette and ponder on what to do about Cissy.
For all her bright smiles and cheerful chattering on the telephone, Peggy could tell there was something eating away at her daughter – it was in her eyes and clear in the moments when she thought she wasn’t being observed – and Peggy knew she had to get to the bottom of it before things went any further. Yet, ever since the wedding, Cissy had avoided being alone with her, staying in bed until she’d left for work, disappearing each evening to the pub and coming home long after everyone was asleep.
What she did and where she went during those hours worried Peggy deeply, and she’d begun to wonder if Cissy had finally given up hope of Randy coming home to fulfil those promises he’d made so long ago, and was now attempting to drown her sorrows in one of the shady clubs that had sprung up in Cliffehaven.
And then there was Ivy whom, she’d soon discovered, she’d fretted needlessly over the whole time she’d been away. The girl had been remarkably cheerful considering the difficult decision she’d had to make, and had related the story of her time with the Johnsons and her brothers’ arrival in great detail and with much hilarity.
Peggy chuckled to herself, for the daunting Stanley and Mick had turned up on her doorstep late one night asking for their sister, and although the initial sight of them had alarmed her, she’d nevertheless invited them in and discovered they were actually very nice men who were worried about Ivy and the children in Salisbury. But she could well imagine how they must have frightened the rather smug-sounding, well-heeled Johnsons out of their wits.
She stubbed out her cigarette and went back into the house. Dumping the basket in the scullery sink, she listened at Cissy’s door, hoping she might be awake. But hearing nothing, she went up the concrete steps to find her daughter drinking tea and eating toast. Surprised to see her dressed and made up at this time of the morning, she asked her if she was coming to the station to see the newly-weds off.
Cissy shook her head. ‘I’ll leave that to you,’ she said. She dropped the thick crust of toast on her plate and brushed crumbs from her lap. ‘Mum,’ she began hesitantly. ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you.’
Peggy sat down. ‘I thought there might be,’ she said calmly. ‘Is it about Randy?’
‘Yes.’ Cissy slid the airmail letter across the table. ‘This came on Wednesday.’
Peggy opened the letter and swiftly read through it. ‘Oh, Cissy. You didn’t have to keep this to yourself all this time,’ she gasped. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I needed to deal with it on my own,’ Cissy replied. ‘To make up my mind how I really felt about it and decide what I’m going to do next.’ She gave a thin smile. ‘Besides, it was hardly the appropriate topic of conversation on Ruby’s wedding day, was it?’
‘You could still have told me over the past few days,’ Peggy chided softly.
Cissy put her hand over Peggy’s. ‘I know, Mum, and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. But I’m not a child any more, and can’t come crying to you every time something upsets me.’ She sat straighter in the kitchen chair, her expression hardening as she lit a cigarette. ‘Goodness knows, I experienced enough real tragedy during the war to be able to deal with something as minor as my hurt pride and that bastard with his stinking self-righteous, bloody letter.’
‘Language, Cissy.’
‘Well, I’m angry with him. He’s made me look and feel a fool.’
Peggy could understand that after all Cissy’s boasting about going to America and living the high life. ‘It’s best you put him and his letter out of your mind, then,’ she said reasonably, folding her hands on the kitchen table. ‘So, have you decided what you’re going to do now?’
She listened with interest to Cissy’s plans to invest all her savings in the London taxi company her smart friends from RAF Cliffe had started up. However, the thought of Cissy being let loose in the city to drive people about at all hours of the day and night worried her. ‘Are you sure you’ll be safe, Cissy? London isn’t like Cliffehaven, you know, and there will be rough elements about.’
‘I drove officers about during the worst of the enemy bombing,’ she replied a little impatiently, ‘so navigating my way around London should be a doddle. Besides,’ she added, ‘the taxi service is exclusively for women, so you don’t have to fret about men causing trouble, and the class of woman we’ll be ferrying will not want to go anywhere near the seedier areas of London.’
‘But what about accommodation? From what I’ve heard there’s very little of it about now there are so many homeless people in London – and if you’re using all your savings to invest in the company, what will you live on?’
‘Clarissa has offered me a room in her Mayfair flat until I can afford my own place. There are plenty of nice apartments about if you can afford them. As for money, I have a bit put by to see me through before I start earning.’
‘Oh dear,’ sighed a fretful Peggy. ‘You do seem very determined about all this. I don’t know what your father would say if he were here.’
Cissy grinned. ‘I expect he’d moan and shout, and try to put up all sorts of daft objections, but in the end he’d give in as always.’
Peggy nodded and smiled back. ‘You always knew how to wrap your father around your little finger,’ she said. ‘And I suspect Daisy will be just the same.’
She paused and regarded her lovely daughter Cissy with deep affection, remembering the time when she’d been dancing in the back row of the revues on the pier, her dreams and high hopes of becoming a star making her just as animated as she was today. Peggy could only hope that, like the dreams of stardom, these new dreams didn’t turn to dust.
‘I suppose I have no choice but to give
you my blessing as you’ve obviously planned everything so thoroughly. But I want you to promise that if things don’t turn out as you wish, you’ll come home.’
‘I promise,’ Cissy replied, reaching once more for her mother’s hands. ‘Thanks for being so understanding, Mum. Clarissa, Philippa and the other girls are a really spiffing bunch, and this venture excites me. I can’t wait to get up there and start this new chapter in my life.’
Peggy looked at her with concern. ‘Does that mean you’ll be leaving quite soon?’
‘I’ve told Clarissa I’ll be catching the three o’clock this afternoon.’ At her mother’s shocked expression, she stood and gave her a hug. ‘I know it’s all a bit sudden, Mum, but I’ve been under your feet for too long already, and I need to get settled there and find my way around the city before I begin driving people about.’
Peggy felt the prick of tears as she embraced Cissy but held them back, not wanting to make her daughter feel guilty about leaving home. ‘You’d better go and see your grandfather before you leave,’ she managed through a tight throat. ‘He’d be hugely hurt if you didn’t.’
‘Of course I will,’ Cissy replied, drawing back from the embrace rather abruptly. ‘Honestly, Mum, how could you possibly think I wouldn’t?’
Peggy had no reply to this, and stood there feeling helpless as Cissy went down to the basement to finish her packing.
‘We’d better go, Auntie Peg,’ said Ivy, bursting into the kitchen with Rita. ‘It’s nearly nine o’clock.’
‘Lawks almighty,’ Peggy gasped, glancing at the clock. ‘And I’ve yet to get Daisy up.’
‘She’s just waking now, and Sarah promised to see to her until we get back,’ said Ivy.
‘I hope she’s not sickening for something,’ muttered Peggy, reaching for her coat and handbag. ‘It’s not like her to sleep in for so long.’
‘I expect she and Grandma Cordy are still getting over the late nights we’ve had this week, and the excitement of me brothers turning up to make a fuss of ’em,’ said Ivy. ‘And don’t worry about Grandma Cordy; Danuta’s off this morning and will make sure she has everything she needs.’