With Hope and Love

by Ellie Dean

  With lots of love,

  Fran xxx.

  PS Please pass on my congratulations to Doris. I met her son and Suzie at a government function the other day, and they’re expecting a brother or sister for little Teddy! Suzie looks marvellously well, and it was quite like old times to be able to chatter away with her while the men pontificated over their port and cigars. But more of that in my next letter. X

  ‘Whew,’ breathed Peggy. ‘Fran’s expecting and is very happy in London, and our Suzie is also expecting at around the same time. I get the feeling this Christmas could turn out to be very exciting. Doris must be over the moon about it all. Here, read it for yourselves. Fran won’t mind as long as you remember to write back. She’s missing everyone, I think.’

  She was about to fetch her meal from the warming oven when she remembered her earlier conversation with Rita. ‘Oh, by the way, Rita and Peter will be setting the date for their wedding this weekend. It’ll be at St Andrew’s, where Suzie married Anthony, and Fran brought us all to tears with her divine violin playing.’

  ‘Golly,’ breathed Cordelia. ‘I’m going to have to buy a new hat at this rate. The straw one is looking decidedly tatty.’

  ‘We’ll go to the shops on Saturday and see what we can find,’ promised Peggy, eagerly tucking into her shepherd’s pie.

  Having staved off her initial hunger, she looked across at Danuta who’d been almost silent throughout. ‘Why don’t you come with us, Danuta? A new outfit will cheer you up no end. You must be sick of wearing the same old things.’

  ‘That would be very nice,’ she replied. ‘But I am saving my money for the journey to Poland.’

  Peggy experienced a dart of concern. ‘Oh, I thought you’d given up on that idea, what with Europe being in such turmoil at the moment.’

  Danuta nodded. ‘For a while I will stay here, but Solly Goldman is planning to go to Warsaw at the end of the summer to try and find out if any of his family have survived the camps. I have agreed to travel with him.’

  Peggy reached for her hand. ‘I knew Solly had been talking of going, but I hadn’t realised he was already making plans. I do wish you’d reconsider, Danuta. It’s chaos over there, and probably quite dangerous.’

  ‘I need to go home, Mamma Peggy,’ she replied softly. ‘I understand the risks and know there will be no one left of my family in Warsaw, but the hospitals and clinics are being overwhelmed, and they need every nurse they can find.’

  ‘How long will you stay?’ asked Peggy, fearful that once she’d gone they’d never see her again.

  Danuta smiled. ‘I do not know. But I promised Aleksy and baby Katarzyna that I would not abandon them, so I will return if you’ll have me.’

  ‘But of course I will,’ breathed Peggy, going to give her a hug. ‘This is your home and we’re your family now. There will always be a place for you here.’ She kissed her cheek. ‘Just promise me you’ll be careful, and won’t take any silly risks.’

  Danuta returned her kiss and chuckled. ‘I think I have learnt my lesson about taking risks, Mamma Peggy, and with Solly by my side, I’m sure I’ll be perfectly safe.’ She pushed back from the table to wash her dishes. ‘Now I must go to the clinic and begin my shift. I am hoping for a quiet night, but with so many babies on the way, I don’t expect it will be.’

  Barely mollified, Peggy finished her plate of food, her heart heavy at the thought of Danuta travelling through war-torn Poland. It was good that Solly would be with her, but despite his size and daunting appearance, he was no longer youthful or terribly fit, and would be unable to defend Danuta should they run into trouble. But then Danuta had gone into Europe during the war to work with the underground and had managed to escape the clutches of the SS before they’d tortured her to death. She might be small, but she had the heart and courage of a lioness.

  Sarah seemed to be thinking along the same lines, although she had no knowledge of Danuta’s war exploits. She patted Peggy’s shoulder in sympathy. ‘Danuta’s a very capable girl, Aunt Peggy. Please try not to worry about her.’

  Jane handed Sarah her jacket and handbag, and Sarah stood up. ‘Jane and I are going to vote, and then take a stroll along the seafront before we go to the pictures at the Drill Hall. The chap in charge has managed to get hold of Brief Encounter, and from what I’ve heard, we’re in for a jolly good cry.’

  ‘Bertie’s taking me to see it tomorrow afternoon,’ said Cordelia happily. ‘I do so enjoy a good cry at the pictures.’

  Jane giggled. ‘Yes, we did notice, Aunt Cordelia. You manage to cry at the drop of a hat, it seems.’

  ‘Or the wisp of a wedding veil,’ added Sarah on a chuckle.

  ‘Cheeky girls,’ Cordelia said cheerfully. ‘Be off with you.’

  They went down the cellar steps and quietly closed the door behind them, and Peggy cleared the table and did the last of the washing-up. There was still no sign of Martin, but hopefully his time-keeping would improve once Anne and the children came home at the weekend. Her heart did a little skip at the thought of seeing them all again, even though Bob wouldn’t be with them – but he would come eventually, and so would Jim, God willing.

  She was about to tear open his letters when she noticed that Daisy was drooping in her chair, so she gathered her into her arms and carried her upstairs for a wash before bedtime. The child was asleep before Peggy had finished reading a story, so she snuggled her beneath the bedclothes with her favourite toy rabbit, kissed her forehead and switched on the night light. With a loving smile at Jim’s photograph on the bedside table, she hurried back into the kitchen to fetch his letters and join Cordelia in the back garden.

  Cordelia was sitting in one of the deckchairs wrestling with her knitting. It was supposed to be a matinee jacket for Ivy’s baby, but was a tangle of wool interspersed with holes where she’d dropped the stitches.

  Peggy quickly unravelled it for her, knitted a couple of rows to start her off, and then settled back in the other chair to enjoy the evening sun and open the earlier of the two letters from Jim.

  To her disappointment it was very short and full of moans. He couldn’t tell her where he was, why he hadn’t written for so long, or much about what he was doing, but it seemed he’d left the comfortable quarters on the coast and was back in a tent somewhere. The monsoon was the worst Jim had ever experienced, the rats were as big as dogs, the mud was up to his knees, and everything was constantly sodden and stinking. According to Jim it was a filthy place, and it would have been cleaner living in the jungle. There was no entertainment, and it seemed to him that the troops in Burma had been forgotten by ENSA as well as the rest of the world.

  Peggy gazed across the sunlit vegetable patch and lit a cigarette. Jim was obviously feeling very low. She gave a sigh and returned to the rest of his letter.

  Their camp had been set up near the shattered remains of a village pagoda, and he expressed his disgust at the fact that the beautifully carved alabaster figures of Buddha had been all but destroyed by the Jap invaders. Life was made completely miserable by the wet, the humidity and the swarms of mosquitoes, and he was down with yet another cold.

  They were now all on standby again, which meant another round of packing, but he hoped it meant they’d either be sent somewhere decent, or finally receive their orders to board ship for home. He finished off by sending his love to everyone and his hope that this purgatory would soon be at an end, and he could be back in the cool of a Cliffehaven autumn.

  Peggy tore open the second letter to find that he’d got part of his wish, for he was now stationed somewhere more comfortable in huts rather than tents, with proper beds to sleep in.

  I’ve just got back to my workshop base after going 300 miles by air to clear a three-ton lorry out of the mud which was up to its chassis. It took hours to shift it, but the blessed thing started straight away, so it was a job well done, and we celebrated with one of the hottest curries I’ve ever had. One of the natives cooked it, so we weren’t sure what was in it and didn�
�t ask, but it certainly made my eyes water, I can tell you, and my tongue felt like it was on fire! Unfortunately, it proved just as hot on its way out, and I had gut ache for two days after.

  There’s a rushing river running past the workshop, and I have to be careful in this humidity not to knock my hands or scratch at the mozzie bites again. The sores can turn septic overnight out here, and as I was pretty banged up last time, I know how painful that can be, so I don’t want a repeat of it.

  At least now we can get Bob Hope and Jack Benny on the wireless, and last night we were treated to the Crosby film, Going My Way, which we all enjoyed. The rum ration is very welcome, and when it stops raining – which it does for a while each day now – the coastal drive is quite beautiful, and reminds me of home. There are wonderful sandy beaches with the jungle rolling right down to the shore where there’s good bathing to be had, so we go down there at every opportunity. It’s hard to believe we once fought a long battle in this area and that there’s still a war going on, for it’s very peaceful down there.

  I got my Burma star today, and Jumbo’s feeling very full of himself, because he’s just been awarded the Oak Leaf Medal for gallantry, which he thoroughly deserves.

  I’ll write again when I can, but the workshop is overwhelmed with vehicles needing repairs and maintenance, and now the airdrop has brought the necessary supplies, I have no excuse but to get on with it.

  I do miss you, Peggy, and wish with all my heart I could leave this place and be with you and our children. But it seems the army has other ideas and there are still things for us to do here. Keep writing, for wherever we’re sent, the mail will follow us – it’s about the only sure thing in this damn war – other than the rain.

  Much love and many kisses,

  Jim

  25

  As the train left Somerset behind and puffed and panted busily towards the London terminus on that Saturday morning, Anne gave up on the book she’d been trying to read and gazed out of the window. She was tired but elated, for her Conservative candidate, Victor Collins, had won the Taunton seat despite the fact he was a born and bred London businessman. The past week had been frantic with all the packing up, and on the night of the election she’d been kept for hours in Taunton for the count and then the jubilant party that followed, and hadn’t arrived home until well after midnight.

  The final result of the election wouldn’t be in until 26th of July to accommodate the time it would take for the votes to come in from the far-flung constituencies in Scotland, but from what she’d gleaned at the party, and during the two following days, it sounded as if Labour was making huge inroads into the Conservative heartlands, which was bitterly disappointing and to her mind a rather shocking betrayal of Churchill.

  Anne’s thoughts turned to the last sad moments she and the children had spent on Owlet Farm. Charlie had disappeared into the machine shed, only to emerge at the very last minute to give Vi a brief hug and shoot a glower of fury at Bob who’d shoved him into the Land Rover with little ceremony. Rose and Emily were too young to really understand what was happening, but Anne had found saying goodbye to Vi very painful and the tears had flowed on both sides, for Vi had been mother and grandmother to them for almost six years, and it was an awful wrench to leave her behind.

  They’d wished Claus well on his forthcoming wedding, and there had been more tears when Anne had said her final farewell to George, Belinda and the dear little schoolhouse earlier that morning. Just thinking about it made Anne sad, for she’d come to love the farm, the village and its people, and knew she would hold the memory of it all in her heart for many years to come.

  She took a steadying breath, for enough tears had been shed today and she was on her way home to Cliffehaven, her mother and Martin, and must prepare herself for whatever awaited her there.

  Having telephoned Peggy the previous evening to tell her the time her train would get in, she’d asked to speak to Martin. But it seemed he was out with Roger somewhere and her mother had no idea when he’d return. Peggy had assured her that he knew she was coming home, and would no doubt be at the station to welcome them all.

  Anne hoped with all her heart that he’d be there, and that although it had only been a week, the time they’d spent apart would have helped him come to terms with things. But how would they rebuild what they’d had if he still couldn’t engage with her and the children? Where could they start when they’d been apart for two years and were almost strangers on his return? And then there was the future to consider. What were his plans? This had been a niggling worry ever since Martin had been released from his RAF duties, for her income as a teacher certainly couldn’t support them all, and she very much doubted if he would fly a plane again.

  Anne dismissed this worry as something to deal with later and looked across the carriage at Charlie and her two young daughters. Rose and Emily were quietly playing with their dolls, but her younger brother was ignoring everyone as he sat with his arms tightly folded across his broad chest, his dark expression warding off any approach. He’d refused point blank to wear his school uniform for the journey, and was dressed in his brother’s old corduroy trousers and a jumper that had definitely seen better days.

  Anne let him simmer, suspecting he couldn’t keep it up for the entire length of the long journey, but it had been a tremendous struggle to force him to get on the train in the first place, for at fourteen, Charlie was big and brawny, and far too strong for her to be able to force him to do anything. Bob had eventually taken charge by hauling him aside to give him a stern ticking off before clipping him none-too-gently around the ear. Whatever he’d said had had the desired effect, but it was clear the boy resented every single mile of the journey.

  Anne had been grateful for Bob’s help, for Charlie was behaving extremely badly for a boy his age. She regarded her brother’s sullen expression and gave an inward sigh. She could only hope he would buck up, and at least show his better side when he arrived in Cliffehaven – and he did possess such a thing, for he had a smile to lighten your heart and an enthusiasm for life which knew no bounds. And yet today, none of that was in evidence and Anne began to fret over what their mother would make of it if he didn’t pull himself together and at least try to look pleased to be home.

  Charlie was still looking quite surly as they pulled into the London station, but he stirred himself enough to help with transferring their luggage from the train onto a porter’s trolley. By the time he’d had a bottle of pop and a sandwich at the railway refreshment room, he started to take an interest in his surroundings, and wandered off to talk trains with one of the off-duty guards.

  Anne kept an eye on him, for once Charlie started talking about engines he’d be lost in another world, and she didn’t want to miss their connection and have to wait another hour for the next train. Emily was grizzling because she was tired, and Rose was fidgeting through boredom. Pulling Emily onto her lap, she rummaged in her bag for a picture book to entertain Rose, and then made the rather stewed cup of tea last as long as she could until she heard the announcement blaring out that her train was arriving on platform four.

  Hoisting Emily onto her hip, she slung her handbag strap over her shoulder and took Rose’s hand. Charlie saw her and came across the concourse to pick up Rose and carry her on his shoulders. It seemed the interlude with the guard had cheered him up no end, for he was grinning, and there was a spring in his step as he organised their luggage and helped them all on board.

  Anne breathed a soft sigh of relief and listened intently as Charlie animatedly told her all about the train they were on, where the engine had come from, when it had been built, and how it would soon be replaced with new rolling stock. She found it all rather boring, but anything was better than having him sullen and uncommunicative, and she could only hope this mood would last for the rest of the journey.

  Cliffehaven

  Doris eyed her reflection in the dressing-table mirror and nervously patted her freshly washed hair into place before a
pplying her lipstick. She’d dressed carefully as usual, and because it was quite a warm day, had chosen a plain linen skirt to go with the sprigged cotton blouse she’d bought for a snip in the sales. Fastening her single strand of pearls round her neck, she fixed pearl studs into her earlobes and studied the effect dispassionately. She couldn’t do much about the lines on her face that no amount of cream or lotions would iron out, and despite the hairdresser’s efforts, there were definitely glints of silver showing through.

  She heaved a sigh and turned away from this unedifying sight, then slipped her feet into low-heeled sandals for the walk to the Club. The strain of the past few weeks was beginning to tell, for although she’d done her best to put Michael at ease and make him feel at home, all her efforts had been met with a polite but cool detachment which hadn’t changed throughout his long leave. John hadn’t noticed, of course, so she’d said nothing and simply accepted that his son still found it hard to come to terms with his father’s plans to remarry.

  Michael had bought a car and was leaving today for Catterick where he would stay for his retraining and then be assigned a posting. He and John had gone for a game of golf straight after breakfast, and she planned to join them at the Officers’ Club for luncheon before Michael set off.

  She had to privately admit that she’d be relieved to see him go, for she’d lived on tenterhooks throughout his leave, wondering if his attitude towards her meant he would try to turn his father against the idea of marrying her. Not that she had any evidence to prove such a thing, and John had certainly been as loving and thoughtful as always despite being distracted by Michael’s presence, but the lack of any warmth from the young man really bothered her.

  Plucking a lightweight jacket from the wardrobe, she was about to leave for the Club when there was a knock on the door. She gave a tut of annoyance and went to see who it was.