by Ellie Dean
Peggy smiled to herself, for life was at last looking up for Ivy, and when she’d returned from that long weekend in London in high spirits, she’d been confident that she and Andy would feel very much at home in Walthamstow. It seemed that, despite the tarpaulins and scaffolding Andy had first seen, the work to be done on the flat wasn’t structural at all, but was in fact a complete overhaul and redecoration by the staff at the fire station to welcome their new recruit and his bride.
Dear Ivy had been quite tearful as she’d described the lovely new windows, bright white paint, varnished floors and the pretty curtains one of their wives had sewn. There were even a few sticks of second-hand furniture to start them off, and Peggy had suggested Ivy should write a letter thanking them for their kindness. It had taken a while, she remembered fondly, for Ivy could barely write legibly, let alone spell, and it had ended up looking so much like a dog’s dinner, Peggy had copied it out on fresh notepaper before it was posted.
As for Jane and Sarah, they were coping with the long wait to hear about their father and Sarah’s fiancé, Philip, who’d been captured shortly after the fall of Singapore. The last they’d heard from their father was a brief note from some prison camp, but it had been written over two years before and made no mention of Philip, so anything could have happened since.
Their mother seemed determined to convince herself and her daughters that they’d both come through, and was already making plans for their return to Australia, where she insisted she would hold Sarah’s wedding to Philip, and then they’d all live there happily ever after.
It was a fairy tale fabricated by a woman desperate to ignore reality and cling to her dreams, and although she urged the girls to believe in this fantasy, neither of them could. They’d heard the awful stories coming out of Asia and hope for Jock and Philip had all but died – and they certainly had no wish to settle in Cairns.
As for the wedding plans, they really were a step too far. Peggy knew Sarah was still in love with the American, Delaney, who’d written to her recently to say he was back in the States unharmed. The girl had sacrificed her future with him through what Peggy considered was a misplaced sense of duty to Philip, vowing she’d marry him if he survived, learn to love him again, and make the best of things.
It was hardly the right way to start married life, thought Peggy sadly, and she could only hope the girl realised in time that she was making a terrible mistake, and call the whole thing off regardless of who she upset.
Emerging from her dark thoughts, she smiled and returned Daisy’s wave as the child studiously dug a moat in the damp sand around her castle and both children exclaimed in delight when it magically filled with water. It seemed Daisy had fully recovered from her nasty bout of chicken pox which had left only a couple of small marks on her forehead, but had kept her in a darkened room for over a week.
Peggy poured a cup of tea from the thermos flask and lit a cigarette, listening to the happy noise around her. She glanced across at Frank and Ron working on the fishing boats that were once more drawn up the beach beneath the cliffs. It felt strange to see them there and to hear the lively noise of the holidaymakers again, for it was as if the clocks had been turned back and the war had never happened. Until she thought again of her Jim, so far away in Burma, still fighting his war against the Japs, and all but forgotten by the people of Britain in the sunshine and joy of this new and heady peacetime.
The holidaymakers had returned in force to the seaside for their annual family holiday now the men had come home, and the town was buzzing with life again despite the bomb sites and the lack of a pier or decent cinema.
It was in moments like this that Jim’s absence was most poignant, for she was reminded of how, before the war, they’d come down to the beach with the children, laden with buckets, spades, towels, sun hats and picnic hamper, staying until teatime, and then carrying the tired younger ones home.
She blinked back her tears, feeling foolish and rather cross with herself for being so soppy. There would be other summers, and when Jim came home, they could spend every one of them on the beach with their grandchildren.
‘Dad said I’d find you here.’
Startled, Peggy looked up and then scrambled awkwardly out of the deckchair. ‘Brendon,’ she gasped, throwing her arms around him. ‘Oh, my goodness, how wonderful that you’re home at last! It’s so lovely to see you again.’
He hugged her back and grinned down at her. ‘And I didn’t come alone, either,’ he said, reaching for the hand of the small, fair-haired young woman Peggy had noticed keeping a discreet distance from this loving reunion.
‘This is my Betty,’ Brendon said with great pride.
Brendon and Betty had met down in Devon whilst he’d been visiting his Aunt Carol, who’d been working as a land girl on a farm. Betty was a primary school teacher who had been raised in an orphanage and had suffered from polio as a child. Peggy looked into her elfin face as they shook hands, taking in her bright, intelligent eyes and wide smile, and instantly liked what she saw. ‘I’m thrilled to meet you at last,’ she said. ‘We’ve all heard so much about you through Brendon’s letters.’
Betty laughed. ‘I’m delighted to meet you too. Carol and her mother, Dolly, sang your praises so highly, I almost feel I know you already.’
Aware of the thick boot and caliper on Betty’s foot, and studiously avoiding looking at it, Peggy dragged over another deckchair. ‘Come and sit down,’ she urged. ‘I’m bursting to hear all your news. How’s Carol? And has Dolly been down to Devon recently? And what about you and Brendon? May I see your engagement ring?’
Betty plumped down into the deckchair as Brendon dragged a third across to join them. ‘Gosh, that’s quite a list,’ she chuckled. ‘But first things first.’ She held out her hand to show off her diamond and emerald ring and giggled as Peggy gasped at the sight of the gold band nestled next to it.
‘We got married on special licence when Brendon was demobbed from the Royal Naval Reserve two weeks ago.’
‘Good heavens,’ breathed Peggy, the delight quite overwhelming as she leapt from her chair again to grab their hands and kiss them. ‘Very many congratulations,’ she said warmly, giving Betty’s hand a little extra squeeze to show she approved. ‘I can just tell you’re made for one another.’
She regarded their radiant faces as they looked at each other, and dared to ask the question that was now puzzling her. ‘But why all the secrecy and rush, Brendon? Didn’t you want to have your wedding here with the family around you?’
The couple exchanged glances and Brendon shifted uneasily in the deckchair. ‘We wanted to keep the ceremony private with just a couple of close friends as witnesses,’ he replied. ‘Mum made it plain in her letters that she resented the time I spent with Betty whilst on leave, and we didn’t want her making a scene and spoiling things.’
‘Oh dear,’ sighed Peggy, thinking how foolish Pauline was to drive her son away with her jealousy and miss one of the most important moments of his life.
‘There was another reason,’ said Betty, regarding Peggy evenly. ‘We have a son,’ she said in a rush. ‘We named him Joseph in memory of Brendon’s brother, and he was born while Brendon was at sea after his last leave.’
‘But that’s marvellous,’ Peggy enthused, giving the girl a hug. ‘Oh, my goodness, such wonderful news all in one go. I don’t know if I can take it all in.’ She looked around in confusion. ‘But where is he? Surely you didn’t leave him down in Devon?’
They both chuckled, and Betty replied, ‘He’s barely three months old, but his grandfather and great-grandfather thought it was time he experienced the smell and feel of a fishing boat.’ She nodded towards the two men who were now sitting on the deck of the beached trawler. ‘We left him over there, guarded by a vigilant Harvey, and probably being thoroughly spoilt.’
Peggy grinned and nodded. ‘He’s certainly safe with those three. Harvey loves babies, and Frank must be cock-a-hoop at having a grandson.’
&nb
sp; Brendon laughed. ‘He certainly is, and Ron’s tickled pink at the idea of having another boy to lead astray, so it looks as if we’ll be hard pushed to get any time with Joseph now the two of them have taken charge.’
Peggy noticed that Pauline had yet to be mentioned and felt a stab of concern, but said nothing, not wanting to spoil this happy moment.
Daisy came to the rescue by running up from the beach with her little friend. ‘This is Lucy,’ she said solemnly. ‘We is hungry again.’
Wondering where Lucy’s parents had got to, Peggy said hello and delved into the picnic basket for the bottle of squash and packet of sandwiches. ‘This is your Uncle Brendon and Auntie Betty,’ she explained, doling out cups of squash and a sandwich each.
The children looked wide-eyed at the boot, and Peggy was about to tell them it was rude to stare when Daisy pointed and asked in her piping voice what that was on Betty’s foot.
‘I’m so sorry, Betty,’ babbled Peggy in an embarrassed fluster.
Betty smiled and shrugged. ‘Please don’t be. It’s only natural for children to be curious,’ she said before cheerfully sticking out her foot and waving it about. ‘This is my magic boot and only very special people can have one.’
The children’s eyes widened further. ‘Magic?’ whispered Daisy.
Betty nodded and smiled. ‘This boot covers my bad foot in a spell to make it all right again so that I can walk just like you and Lucy.’
There were appreciative murmurs, but Daisy was still curious. ‘Why’s your leg bad?’ she asked boldly.
‘I got very sick with something called polio when I was a little girl,’ Betty explained. ‘And it made this leg all thin and weak so I couldn’t walk on it. That’s when I was given this very special boot.’
‘But why …’
‘That’s enough, Daisy,’ Peggy butted in quickly. ‘Go and play before the tide comes in and washes away your lovely castles.’
She could see Daisy was on the brink of disobeying her, so dug in the basket again for something to distract her. ‘Here we are,’ she said, handing over a couple of rock buns. ‘Try not to get too much sand on them.’
The little girls ran off with the buns clutched in their small hands, and Peggy sighed. ‘I’m sorry about that, but once Daisy starts with her questions, there’s no end to them.’
‘Shows she has an intelligent, enquiring mind,’ said Betty comfortably. ‘I hope there are more like her in my new class. It does make life harder, but it’s also much more interesting.’
‘I hope that means you’re staying here,’ said Peggy.
Betty glanced at Brendon and clasped her fingers in her lap. ‘That was the plan,’ she said quietly. ‘While Brendon was at sea I discovered that a new junior school was opening here, and managed to secure a post starting in September. It seemed ideal at the time, but now I’m not so sure.’
Peggy felt the dart of unease again. ‘But why? This is a lovely place to bring up Joseph with all his family around him.’
Brendon cleared his throat and rested his hand on Betty’s entwined fingers. ‘It’s my mother,’ he said flatly. ‘We’ve been here since last night, and she didn’t exactly welcome the news of our marriage – or that our son was born before it.’
‘Good grief,’ gasped a shocked Peggy. ‘What’s the matter with the blessed woman?’
Brendon shrugged. ‘She feels we’ve let her down by doing things the wrong way round, and is absolutely seething over the fact we got married without inviting her.’
He gave a short, exasperated sigh. ‘You know what she’s like, Aunt Peg. She takes umbrage at the slightest thing, and has decided we got married behind her back in revenge for her complaining about me going to Devon on that last leave instead of coming home. Which, of course, is ridiculous.’
‘Have you tried reasoning with her?’ Peggy asked.
‘She refuses to listen to a word I say, and I’m very much afraid she’s working herself up to having a go at my poor Betty next, and will blame her for turning me against her.’
‘Oh lawks, what a horrid and hurtful situation you’ve both found yourselves in,’ Peggy sympathised.
‘It’s certainly unpleasant,’ said Betty, ‘made more so by the fact that she’s incandescent about her sister Carol and their mother, Dolly, being Joseph’s godparents, and witnesses at our wedding. When Brendon let it slip about Dolly she just clammed up completely and hasn’t spoken to us since.’
‘Some might say that was a blessing,’ muttered a furious Peggy.
‘Some might,’ agreed Brendon, ‘but it makes for a poisonous atmosphere. We would have booked into a hotel if it wasn’t for Dad. He’s delighted to have us home and has completely fallen in love with Joseph, so it didn’t seem fair to abandon him while Mum’s in that foul mood.’
‘Probably best you stay there for as long as you can stand it,’ said Peggy. ‘The poor man will probably be in the doghouse with Pauline, and he’ll need all the support he can get.’ She took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. ‘I always knew Pauline was tricky and saw a personal slight in everything people said or did, and her relationship with Dolly was never an easy one, but never in a million years did I think she’d turn on you like that.’
She clasped their hands. ‘Oh, my dears, I’m so sorry this homecoming has been such an ordeal. If you ever need to escape, you know where I am, and you’ll be welcome at any time. If I’m out, just go in and make yourselves right at home. There’s only Cordelia and four girls there now – and one of them is leaving next weekend – so if you need some space to yourselves, the big top room is free.’
Brendon got out of the deckchair and hugged her. ‘Thanks, Aunt Peg,’ he said softly. ‘And if things get too bad at home, would it be all right if we moved in up there until we find our own place?’
‘But of course,’ she exclaimed, instantly dismissing the thought of how much trouble that might cause with Pauline. ‘So, does that mean you’ll stay in Cliffehaven despite your mum?’
‘It’s my home town, Aunt Peg, and we want Joseph to grow up surrounded by those who love him. Given time, I’m hoping Mum might come round to the idea of me being married with a son, but until then we’re putting up a united front with Dad which she’ll find very hard to break.’
He shrugged and gave Peggy a smile. ‘We’ve got each other as well as you and Dad and Grandad – and with so much love and strength between us, we’ll muddle through somehow.’
‘Indeed we will,’ said Betty, struggling out of the deckchair. ‘We’d better go and fetch Joseph,’ she said to Brendon. ‘It’s getting late and he’ll need a nappy change and feed before we take him back to Tamarisk Bay.’
She turned to Peggy and gave her a hug. ‘We’ve only just met, but now I know why Dolly and Carol love you so, Peggy. Thank you.’
‘There’s no need to thank me,’ Peggy replied, feeling rather emotional. ‘Now go and see to that baby, and please call in tomorrow so I can have a cuddle and get to know him.’
They assured her they would, and then strolled away arm in arm towards the fishing boats, their togetherness plain to see.
Peggy watched them enviously, remembering how she and Jim used to take evening strolls along the promenade before the children came along. But inside she was fuming. Pauline Reilly needed a sharp slap and a damned good talking to for being such a bitch – and if things didn’t improve very quickly, she’d see to it the bloody woman heard exactly what she thought of her.
21
Burma
The orders had finally come through to the camp and, for the past couple of weeks, the mixed brigades of the 14th Army had been driving hard to push the Japanese back along the two roads that led into the main north–south axis from the east.
Jim and his brigade of engineers had been sent south but, crammed into the trucks, armoured cars and jeeps like sardines, or hanging onto the sides, it was hard going, and the drivers found it almost impossible to keep up with the leading tanks of the Indian Ar
my’s 7th Light Cavalry. These advance tanks moved so fast that they often came upon Japanese rearguards marching along the road and machine-gunned them down without losing speed.
As Jim and his brigade advanced south with the determination of a herd of buffalo scenting water, the petrol supply was stretched to the very limits. Maintenance of the vehicles became an urgent necessity, and breakdowns caused more delays than the enemy. Half-rations were once more put in place to allow the airlifts to be used for petrol and ammunition, but despite the desperate need to stop and see to the battered vehicles, the orders came down the line to keep advancing.
They’d arrived at Toungoo to find the Japanese bunkers heavily fortified with roofs of logs, steel bars and corrugated iron, and only a direct hit from a shell or bomb would destroy them. But the shells burst far too high into the trees and it soon became clear that they needed air support – and the infantry were desperate for the heavy American mortars if they were to make any headway.
Jim huddled in the back of a truck with Jumbo as they took a breather from the hard and terrifying task of clearing the mines under heavy fire and even heavier rain, so the tanks could advance and get closer to the enemy. Both men were soaked to the skin with rain and sweat, their uniform shirts and shorts stiff with mud as the endless rain gleamed on the gun-barrels and tin hats of the enemy. They were too miserable and battle-weary to try and talk above the noise of the tank guns which were throwing sudden orange flashes into the dark jungle, but there was comradeship in that silence as they shared a nip of rum ration, and smoked damp roll-ups.
Jim didn’t want to look at the horrific sight just on the other side of the bridge, but despite his abhorrence, his gaze kept returning to it, making his stomach clench. The burned-out British armoured car lay on the edge of a bomb crater, the lump of charred meat and bone inside it all that remained of the driver who was still there after several days because no one had had the chance to get him out.