Homecoming

by Ellie Dean

  Peggy had enjoyed a wonderful few hours of singing and dancing and catching up on all of Fran and Mary’s news. Rosie had called time and Brenda had gone home, but the Beach View women remained at the table, reluctant to end the happy evening, even though it would be an early start in the morning.

  Anne made the first move. ‘I’m going home to check that Martin got the girls to bed all right,’ she said. ‘They can be a bit of a handful when they’re over-excited, and he still finds it difficult to cope with all their noise.’

  Peggy kissed her goodnight, and twenty minutes later rounded up the others. ‘Time for bed,’ she said as the hall clock struck eleven and she noticed Cordelia was drooping with weariness next to her. ‘You have a very big day ahead of you, Rita, and Cordy and I need our beauty sleep if we’re going to be in any fit state to enjoy your wedding.’

  Rita grinned, her brown eyes sparkling, her dark curls dancing above her shoulders. ‘Ready when you are, Auntie Peggy – although I don’t feel a bit sleepy. I’m too excited.’

  Peggy reached across and took her hand. ‘Of course you are, love. And quite rightly so.’ She pushed back her chair just as Andy and Robert came through the side door to walk Gloria and Fran back to the Crown.

  Peggy regarded them sharply, for although they seemed sober enough, they looked decidedly shifty. ‘Did you have a good evening?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘Very pleasant,’ said Robert, not quite meeting her eye before swiftly turning to Fran. ‘Come on, love, it’s late, and you must be tired.’

  There was a flurry of hugs and kisses for Fran and Gloria, and then everyone was fetching their coats and saying a fond farewell to Mary, who would be staying at the Anchor with Rosie until Sunday.

  Peggy kissed and hugged Mary. ‘Sleep well, dear, and I’ll see you and Rosie tomorrow at the church. It’s so lovely of you and Fran to play for Rita’s wedding. You can have little idea of how much it means to her – and to me.’

  ‘It’s a real pleasure, Aunt Peggy. I’m just so sorry I haven’t been able to visit before now, but with the baby and everything …’ She blinked rapidly and smiled. ‘But he’s older now and bit more manageable, so I felt it was all right to leave him at the farm with his grandparents, who’ve been utterly brilliant all the way through everything. They dote on him so, but I suppose that’s only to be expected after losing their Jack.’

  Peggy swallowed the lump in her throat and patted her cheek, then quickly hugged Rosie, thanking her for planning the surprise and giving them all an evening to remember. ‘I’ll send Ron home straight away and see you tomorrow,’ she promised before turning away to help Cordelia to her feet.

  Linking arms with Cordelia, Peggy and Sarah walked along Camden Road, with Rita and Ivy chattering non-stop ahead of them, and Jane in deep conversation with Danuta tagging along slowly behind. The air was fresh and cool after the fug in the Anchor’s bar, the sky clear and starlit, and Peggy was looking forward to getting her shoes off and having a cup of tea.

  They crossed over the main road that led up from the seafront and made their moonlit way along the rough track which ran between the back gardens of the terraced houses and petered out eventually at the foot of the surrounding hills.

  As Rita and Ivy ran into the house, Peggy frowned at the sight of the sheets hanging on the washing line. She knew for certain they hadn’t been there when she’d gone out, and could only think that perhaps one of the little girls must have been overtired and accidentally wet the bed. At least someone had thought to wash them out instead of just dumping them in the laundry basket for her to deal with.

  Shrugging off this thought, she helped Cordelia over the threshold and, to the steady rhythm of young Charlie’s snoring in his basement bedroom, climbed up the concrete steps to the kitchen.

  All seemed quiet and as she’d left it, so she shed her coat, helped Cordelia off with hers and crossed over to the range to put the kettle on the hob. By the sound of it, Rita and Ivy were already heading for their bedroom – so excited they’d forgotten to say goodnight – and she could hear the familiar sawing of Ron’s snores coming from the dining room.

  ‘Would anyone else like tea?’ she asked, kicking off her high-heeled shoes.

  Sarah, Jane and Danuta shook their heads, and after kissing her goodnight, made their way up to their bedrooms. Cordelia plumped down in her favourite fireside chair and gave a sigh of pleasure as she too eased off her shoes and wriggled her toes. ‘Yes, please, dear. A nice cuppa will be just the thing to help me get to sleep.’

  She looked around the room and frowned. ‘Something’s different, but I’m blowed if I can see what it is,’ she muttered.

  Peggy leaned against the sink and wondered what Ron’s mucky old gardening glove was doing on the draining board alongside a mangled tube of antiseptic cream. She ignored them to look around the kitchen and immediately spotted what it was that had changed.

  ‘Someone’s shifted the dresser away from the wall and tidied up all the clutter on top,’ she said with surprise. ‘Now, why on earth would they do that?’

  Cordelia shrugged. ‘Beats me, dear. Who’s to say what men get up to when left to their own devices?’

  Peggy thought about those sheets on the line which, now she came to think of it, had come from a double bed, not a child’s single or cot. She picked up the gardening glove and saw the fresh bloodstains inside it which might explain the tube of cream, but who on earth would have been gardening at night – and why shift and tidy the dresser? It was all very odd.

  ‘Something has been going on here, Cordy,’ she said darkly. ‘And I aim to find out what.’

  ‘Oh dear. Don’t tell me Ron’s been up to his shenanigans again,’ sighed Cordelia, still twiddling her toes. ‘You’d have thought he’d have learnt by now to behave himself.’

  ‘Watch the kettle, Cordy. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  Peggy didn’t wait for a reply and walked quickly into the hall in her stockinged feet. Checking that Daisy was asleep in her bed, she continued on into the dining room where she immediately smelled the sharp and unmistakable tang of disinfectant.

  Puzzled by this, she frowned, and her disapproval deepened as she spotted the empty rum and whiskey bottles and noted that all the beer was gone too. It seemed they’d had quite a party despite everything Ron had promised, and now he was stretched out in the armchair by the hearth, Harvey at his feet, both snoring fit to bust.

  Harvey must have heard her exasperated sigh, for he raised his nose from his paws to regard her warily, his ears flattening to his head, his tail moving weakly against the rug in supplication.

  Peggy knew that guilty look, and it confirmed her suspicions that something had happened here tonight. She folded her arms and glared at Ron who was still snoring as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Harvey sensed trouble and got to his feet, quickly slinking past her, tail between his legs, in search of sanctuary with Cordelia in the kitchen.

  Peggy stood and watched Ron for a moment, noting that despite the warm evening, he was still wearing his poacher’s coat over a sweater that looked as if it’d been wrung out and left to dry on him. As she regarded these disreputable items of clothing, something squirmed in one of the coat pockets, and she heard the unmistakable chirrup of ferrets coming from its depths.

  That was enough to bring the simmering suspicions to a head and raise her blood pressure. She marched across the room and jabbed him none too gently in the shoulder. ‘Wake up, Ron,’ she ordered. ‘Wake up this minute and explain to me why you brought the ferrets with you.’

  Ron slowly opened one bleary blue eye and then the other to look up at her in bewildered innocence. ‘Ach, Peggy, wee girl. Are ye back already? I must be off home to me Rosie.’

  He struggled to rise from the chair, but Peggy pushed him back and barred his way. ‘You’re not going anywhere until you’ve told me what’s been going on here,’ she said flatly.

  ‘Going on?’ he asked, wide-eyed with h
urt innocence. ‘Why should anything have been going on?’

  ‘Because there are washed sheets on the line; a bloodied gardening glove on my draining board; the dresser has been shifted and tidied up and I can definitely smell disinfectant – and if that wasn’t enough, you’ve been drinking and have got ferrets in your pocket.’

  ‘Aye, well, I can explain,’ he replied, his gaze drifting to a point somewhere beyond her shoulder. ‘’Tis all quite simple, wee girl, and nothing for you to be worrying your pretty head about.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me with your blarney,’ she snapped. ‘What happened here tonight?’

  ‘’Tis sorry I am if you think I’m being patronising,’ he replied dolefully. He hastily swallowed a yawn. ‘To be sure, I’m ready for me bed. Can we not discuss this in the morning, Peggy?’

  ‘No. Out with it, Ron – and I want the truth, not any of your fanciful nonsense.’

  He took a breath and focused his gaze on his feet. ‘I thought the wee girls would like to meet Flora and Dora. But ’twas a terrible mistake, for Emily took fright and Rose joined in, and their screaming sent the wee beasts scurrying.’

  He bared his teeth in a forced smile which didn’t quite reach his still wary eyes. ‘Still, it’s all right now. The girls are asleep, and Flora and Dora are back in me pocket. So there’s no harm done, and I shall be taking them home the minute you let me pass.’

  Peggy stayed where she was. ‘But that’s not all, is it? Why the sheets and the blood on the gardening glove? And what had to be disinfected in here?’

  ‘Ach, Peggy, you’re a hard woman, so y’are,’ he said on a sigh. He looked down at his bitten hand and haltingly confessed to the entire sorry tale. ‘I’ll be buying Cordelia a new hat first thing on Monday, I promise,’ he said into the ensuing silence.

  ‘You’d better see you do,’ said Peggy, trying very hard not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. ‘You really are the limit, Ron,’ she managed. ‘You surely haven’t forgotten the day Sarah and Jane arrived to utter chaos, when you let the last pair of ferrets loose in the house?’

  He lowered his gaze and concentrated on filling his pipe. ‘Aye, but I hadn’t taken into account the wee ones’ reaction.’

  ‘That’s your trouble, Ron. You never do think of the consequences. Poor little Emily must have been terrified to have blasted ferrets rampaging about the house.’ She took a breath to calm herself. ‘I can only thank God none of the children were bitten.’

  Ron nodded. ‘To be sure, so do I,’ he admitted. He lifted his head and grinned. ‘But Daisy thought the whole thing was a terrific game.’

  ‘I have no doubt she did,’ Peggy said drily. ‘But then she’s known those ferrets since she was a baby, and is well aware she mustn’t frighten them.’

  ‘Ach, Peggy,’ he sighed, ‘’tis sorry I am for causing such trouble. I promise never to bring the ferrets into this house again.’

  ‘I seem to have heard that promise before,’ she retorted, still cross with him, and not at all convinced that he was truly contrite. ‘But as we have a wedding in the morning and it’s now almost midnight, I’ll say no more about it. But one more caper like this, and I’ll box your ears.’

  He chuckled and winked at her. ‘I’d like to see you try.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me,’ she retorted.

  They regarded one another with deep affection, knowing this wouldn’t be the last time they would draw swords, and as he smiled up at her, Peggy couldn’t help but smile back. He was a lovable old rogue, and as always, she forgave him. ‘I’ve left Cordelia making tea. Will you stay for a cuppa?’

  Ron shook his head and dragged himself out of the chair. Planting a kiss on the top of her head, he squeezed her shoulder. ‘You’re a good girl, wee Peggy. I’ll wish you goodnight and go home to my Rosie.’

  Peggy followed him through the hall and into the kitchen where Cordelia was making a fuss of Harvey.

  ‘I hear you’re in trouble again, you old devil,’ Cordelia said with a glint of laughter in her eyes. ‘What was it this time?’

  Ron grinned down at her and patted her cheek. ‘To be sure, wee Peggy will tell you. Sleep well, Cordy.’

  Once the back door had slammed behind him and his dog, Peggy sank into the other chair to drink the tea and share the story with Cordelia – making sure there was no mention of the hat, and thankful that the new one had been carefully stowed away inside the wardrobe.

  Cordelia giggled. ‘It’s a good thing I have another book to read,’ she said. ‘But I won’t tell him that. It’ll serve him right to have to buy me a new copy.’

  Peggy chuckled. It seemed that Ron’s shopping trip was going to turn out to be rather expensive.

  2

  Rita and Ivy had so many things to catch up on and discuss in their excitement for the coming day, and being together again, that they’d still been chattering long after the rest of the household had settled down for the night. Ivy had fallen quiet and hadn’t responded to Rita’s latest enquiry, and Rita realised that her friend had gone to sleep, curled like a child beneath the covers of the other single bed.

  As the Town Hall clock struck one, Rita lay there staring at the ceiling, and wondering if Peter was doing the same in his boarding house billet along the coast. Restless and still unable to sleep, she eventually drew back the covers and tiptoed barefoot to the window in her soft, faded pyjamas.

  Opening the curtain just enough to peek through, she leaned on the sill and gazed out over the rooftops to the moon which was almost full, and reflected in the small sliver of sea visible between the chimneypots, and then looked up to the dark sky to watch the stars twinkling. She wondered if they were the same configuration of stars on the other side of the world, for it would be reassuring to have something familiar to look at so far from home.

  She tucked her curly dark hair behind her ears and gave a soft sigh. She had an inkling now of what Ruby must have gone through before her marriage to Mike and subsequent migration to Canada, for she was nervously excited about tomorrow and all the hullabaloo it would entail. Although she’d never been one to take centre stage, she could hardly wait to dress up in her beautiful gown to share her wedding vows with Peter.

  Yet throughout all the plans they’d made for their big day – and the even bigger adventure they were about to embark upon – there ran a thread of fear which she couldn’t quell. She would be going into the unknown once they boarded the ship for Australia, and even though she’d have Peter at her side, and he’d described so well what awaited them there, it was clearly very different from all she’d ever known.

  As she looked out of the window and the bedside clock quietly ticked away the seconds, Rita thought again of all she’d be leaving behind. Beach View had been her refuge after her own home had been fire-bombed, and Peggy had been a constant, loving presence in her life even before her mother had died too young. Rita knew that if it hadn’t been for Peggy’s love and care, her father would never have coped with the trials of bringing up his six-year-old daughter while he struggled to grieve and support them.

  Rita felt the prick of tears and blinked them away. She could barely remember her mother now, for the few photographs of her had been destroyed during the fire-bombing. Yet, in the silence of the night, she could still hear faint echoes of her voice, and feel the comfort of her arms about her in those moments when she missed her the most. The thought of leaving her father behind troubled her, and despite all his assurances to the contrary, she seen the sadness in him when he’d thought he was unobserved, and knew he would be bereft at her departure.

  And then there was Peggy, who’d been a mother, confidante and wise adviser during her formative years, and dear old Ron, who’d been a grandfather and font of knowledge about the world. And Beach View, which had been her home; this room shared with Ivy who’d become as close as a sister, and who’d been with her during moments of great fear and deep sorrow, as well as times of fun. Was her love for Peter and the promise of a new life strong
enough for her to make such a sacrifice? Or would their adventure together turn sour through her longing for home and those she loved?

  Rita took a shallow, quavering breath, knowing their love was indeed strong enough to see them through whatever they had to face – and that although she might get horribly homesick, she was meant to spend the rest of her life with Peter, even if it was on the other side of the world.

  ‘Rita? What you doing there? You’ll catch yer death, gel.’ Ivy threw the old dressing gown over Rita’s shoulders and hugged her waist. ‘Not ’aving second thoughts, are yer?’ she teased.

  Rita shook her head and dismissed the doubts as last-minute nerves. ‘Not about getting married to Peter. But I was thinking about you, Dad and Peggy, and this place. It’s going to be so hard to leave you all behind, and I feel horribly guilty about abandoning Dad.’

  ‘Then you mustn’t,’ said Ivy firmly. ‘Yer dad will ’ave Peggy and Ron to talk to, and he’ll be so busy with ’is workshop, I reckon he won’t ’ave time to worry about what you’re up to. Besides, he promised to visit you out there when you and Pete are settled and start ’aving kids.’

  ‘I know,’ Rita sighed, leaning her head on Ivy’s narrow shoulder. ‘But I still wish he’d agreed to come with us and set up over there.’

  ‘Jack’s a man what knows ’is own mind, Rita, love. He’s been away from home right through the war and is too old to be going gallivanting again. I know it won’t be easy for yer, but you gotta give it a go, gel. A chance like this don’t come that often, and Pete’s a good bloke. He’ll look after yer.’

  Rita giggled. ‘You’re right, Ivy. I’m just suffering from last-minute nerves, that’s all.’

  ‘It’s the time of night,’ said Ivy, shivering in her thin nightdress. ‘No one can think straight at two in the morning, and you’re just letting yer imagination run away with yer.’ Ivy drew Rita from the window towards the two single beds. ‘It’s time you was in that bed and sleeping,’ she said bossily. ‘Come on, gel, or you’ll be fit fer nothing in the morning.’