Homecoming

by Ellie Dean

  ‘Please, don’t get up. I can see myself out,’ she said hastily.

  ‘I will stand to say goodbye,’ he said stubbornly, jamming the sticks into the carpet to gain steady purchase before hauling himself to his feet. ‘I am sorry if my talk of Poland has upset you, Danuta, but please, I beg you, think about what I have said – and don’t just take my word for it – ask others. They will tell you the same. Poland is not safe.’

  ‘Thank you. I will certainly give it much thought.’ She reached out to shake his hand. ‘It has been a pleasure to meet you and to talk of Aleksy.’

  He balanced precariously on one walking stick, took her hand and softly kissed it. ‘I am hoping you will do me the honour of having dinner with me tomorrow night,’ he murmured. ‘And I promise to talk only of happy things.’

  The invitation was unexpected and not particularly welcome, because she didn’t want him getting any wrong ideas. ‘I’m not sure,’ she hedged. ‘My district round is long and sometimes I am not home until very late.’

  ‘I will book table at the Grove for seven o’clock. I will wait for you, no matter how long.’

  ‘Oh dear, you are persistent, aren’t you?’ she chuckled.

  ‘It’s what’s kept me alive, Danuta, and you, I think, are worth waiting for.’

  Danuta felt the heat rising in her face and withdrew her hand from his clasp. ‘You really don’t know anything about me, Stanislaw.’

  ‘Then permit me to learn more.’

  Danuta held his gaze, thinking that her life story really wasn’t the most palatable subject to be discussed over dinner, but as hard as she’d tried to resist this man, he’d managed to charm her, and make her curious to know more about him. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then,’ she murmured before quickly leaving.

  The long walk home cooled the flush in her cheeks, but did nothing to quell the rather disconcerting flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

  4

  Peggy had very little time that Sunday to mull over the delightful thought that something might be going on between Danuta and Stanislaw. She’d planned to quiz her over breakfast, but the girl had shot out of the house very early this morning on her district nursing round before Peggy was even out of bed. It was all very frustrating.

  However, she had rather more pressing things to occupy her today. Mary was coming with Rosie for a short visit before she had to catch her train back to Sussex, and Fran was due to pop in with Robert. Ivy had stayed at Gloria’s last night, but would also be dropping by before she and Andy went back to Walthamstow. Frank was still snoring fit to bust on one of the hastily cleared bunk beds in the basement, and young Charlie was sleeping off the copious amounts of beer he’d consumed last night in an effort to keep up with his grandfather and uncle. Never a wise move, for they could drink anyone under a table.

  She left Daisy to eat her toast and went down to the basement to knock on Charlie’s door. ‘Get up, son. You’ve got rugby practice in an hour.’

  There was a grunt and an indecipherable mutter before everything went silent again, so Peggy opened the door. ‘Get up, Charlie,’ she ordered the lump beneath the mound of tangled bedclothes.

  He looked blearily over his shoulder and grunted. ‘I don’t feel well,’ he groaned.

  ‘That’s hardly surprising,’ she replied mildly, regarding the discarded shoes and clothes strewn about the floor. ‘A good breakfast will see to that hangover. Now stir your stumps and get out of that bed while I sort your uncle out.’

  She left him to it and went to the second room which had become the repository for unwanted things that might one day be useful, and briskly rapped on the door. ‘Frank. Frank. Wake up.’

  ‘Go away,’ he groaned.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she said flatly. ‘And if you don’t get out of that bed soon, you’ll have Pauline coming down here to find out what’s happened to you – and believe me, Frank, you don’t want that.’

  Another groan was followed by the squeaking of bedsprings, and then a hefty clunk, which elicited a soft oath. Peggy gave a wry smile, for he’d obviously hit his head on the upper bunk – but at least it might bring him to his senses.

  Satisfied they were both on the move, she returned to the kitchen to find Anne giving breakfast to her girls while Martin drooped over a cup of tea, and Cordelia chattered nineteen to the dozen about the wedding.

  ‘I was just saying how lovely our little Rita looked yesterday,’ chirped Cordelia, ‘and how lucky she is to have such a fine husband in Peter.’

  ‘Yes, Grandma Cordy, we know all that,’ sighed Anne. ‘But do you have to be quite so cheerful at this time of the morning?’

  Cordelia sniffed. ‘You young things have got no stamina. I bet Ron’s already up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, walking the dogs.’

  ‘I expect he is,’ said Martin, rubbing at the still-livid scar on his temple. ‘Though how he does it after the amount of drink he got through last night is a complete mystery to me.’

  Cordelia tutted and concentrated on eating her bowl of cereal while Peggy finished browning more toast on the hob and spreading margarine on another slice for Daisy.

  ‘You’re not alone, Martin,’ said Peggy, sitting down and patting his hand. ‘Frank and Charlie are worse for wear too, and I’ve had to take a couple of aspirin to get me going this morning.’ She glanced up at the clock. ‘But if Frank doesn’t get a move on, we’ll have Pauline storming in looking for him.’

  ‘Not a delightful prospect,’ muttered Cordelia. ‘But I doubt she’ll darken this door again after that fierce ticking-off you gave her.’

  ‘I heard it was a lot more than a ticking-off,’ rumbled Frank as he came into the room. He helped himself to a cup of tea and sat down. ‘Pauline told me Peggy had attacked her.’

  Peggy folded her arms and glared at him. ‘I gave her a slap and a good shake for treating her son and his family in that appalling manner. I can’t say I’m proud of losing my temper like that, but she deserved it, Frank – as you very well know.’

  ‘Yeah, I do,’ he conceded, slumping in his kitchen chair. ‘But the trouble she caused won’t go away, Peg, and it will take more effort than she’s willing to give to put it right.’

  He gave a deep sigh and rested his chin in his large hand. ‘I’d walk out tomorrow if she was well, but she’s still being troubled by terrible headaches, and I can’t just abandon her.’

  Peggy smiled at him. ‘I doubt you’ll ever leave her, Frank, no matter how many times you threaten to, or how much she winds you up. But what does the doctor have to say about these headaches? Are they real or yet another ruse to keep you on your toes?’

  Frank looked a bit sheepish, as if well aware of how easily his wife controlled him. ‘He says it’s probably stress and the onset of the menopause.’

  ‘Would that account for such severe headaches?’ Peggy asked.

  Frank shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. But he’s taken blood tests and so on, and is now talking about sending her to see a specialist in London.’

  ‘What sort of specialist?’ Peggy asked sharply.

  ‘A neurologist, I think he said.’ Frank grimaced. ‘Someone who deals with people’s heads, anyway.’

  ‘That does sound serious.’ Peggy experienced a pang of guilt, for she’d slapped Pauline’s face very hard and given her a rough shaking during that altercation, and she was suddenly frightened that she might have done her some real damage.

  Frank seemed to read her thoughts and reached for her hand. ‘It was nothing you did that day to make her the way she is, Peg. She’s been damned difficult for years.’

  ‘That she has,’ murmured Peggy. ‘But these headaches are a new thing.’

  Frank slurped from his cup of tea. ‘It’s always been hard to know what’s ailing her, Peg. There’s always something wrong, and she’s back and forth to that doctor’s almost every week. It’s a good thing they’re looking at making health services free. I dread to think how much money he
r hypochondria has cost me over the years.’

  Charlie came into the kitchen looking like death warmed up just as Sarah and Jane took their places at the table. Peggy bit down on a smile as Charlie blushed to the roots of his black hair and ducked his head to concentrate on the bowl of cereal she put in front of him. At fifteen, her son was maturing fast, and clearly appreciated the sight of two pretty young women despite being hung-over.

  Managing to resist stroking back his hair from his eyes, she sat back down and smiled at the two girls. ‘You’re looking very lovely today,’ she said, regarding the flowery dresses, neat hair and immaculate make-up. ‘Are you off to somewhere nice?’

  ‘We’re going to London for a couple of days,’ said Jane. ‘Jeremy has booked us into a small hotel close to Oxford Street so we can go shopping for our trip to Singapore.’

  ‘Gosh. I didn’t realise your plans were that advanced. But what about your job at the council offices, Sarah?’

  ‘I telephoned my office manager yesterday morning and asked for the day off, and she was very good about it. She now knows I’m going back to Singapore and the reason for it, and has been most supportive.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good. But I do wish Jeremy was going with you. The thought of you young things travelling all that way unescorted is very worrying.’

  Both girls chuckled. ‘We managed very well on the journey here,’ said Sarah, ‘so I’m sure we’ll be quite safe.’

  ‘But you were on a ship with lots of other women and children. Not flying halfway round the world in a flimsy seaplane,’ protested Peggy.

  ‘They’re really not that flimsy, Peggy,’ said Martin. ‘In fact, they’re a highly efficient and safe mode of transport. The navy used them right through the war.’

  ‘Well, if you say so,’ said Peggy, not at all convinced.

  Daisy, Rose and Emily had finished their breakfast, so Martin went out into the garden with them while Peggy and Anne tackled the washing-up. Charlie left a few minutes later for the rugby club, and Frank soon climbed into his ramshackle old truck to drive home to Pauline and face the music.

  Sarah and Jane dealt with their crockery and then went upstairs to fetch their overnight cases. The table was finally cleared and the faded oilcloth wiped down as Cordelia went to fetch the Sunday papers from the wire basket beneath the letter box. She returned and settled down in her favourite chair, her half-moon glasses perched on her nose as she skimmed the headlines.

  ‘We’ll be off then,’ said Sarah on her return to the kitchen. ‘Say our goodbyes to Fran, Mary and Ivy, will you, Auntie Peg? We would have stayed, but we wanted to get the early train as Jeremy has promised to take us out to lunch at the Savoy.’

  ‘Goodness me,’ said Peggy. ‘How very posh.’ She smiled and hugged her before turning to Jane with a teasing glint in her eye. ‘You and Jeremy seem to be seeing rather a lot of each other, and it was very generous of him to help with the flying boat tickets. Should I be planning for another wedding?’

  Jane laughed. ‘Not for a long while yet, Aunt Peg. I have the trip to Singapore first, and depending how things go, it could be some time before I can get back here. As for Jeremy, he’s been offered a terrific job in Washington.’

  ‘Washington?’ Peggy gasped. ‘But will that mean you’ll go and live there too?’

  Jane grinned and hugged her. ‘I didn’t say he’d taken up the offer,’ she said. ‘And who knows what the future will bring?’ She kissed Peggy’s cheek. ‘Must dash, or we’ll miss the train.’

  Peggy was left none the wiser as she stood in the doorway to watch them hurry down the garden path. She returned their brief wave before they disappeared down the twitten then, with a deep sigh, went to tidy up the basement rooms.

  Mary arrived with Rosie just as Peggy was bringing a tray of squash down into the garden for the children, so she quickly got Martin to fetch more deckchairs from beneath the tarpaulin that had once covered Rita’s motorbike. Making sure everyone was settled, she went back upstairs to the kitchen to make a pot of tea and to hunt out some of the lovely biscuits Cordelia’s family had sent from Canada.

  The girls began to squabble over the toys in the sandpit, so Martin decided to take them down to the beach to let off steam. There was a bit of a kerfuffle to find their swimsuits and towels, and he finally left armed with all the paraphernalia needed for a trip to the beach with three small girls.

  ‘It’s lovely to see him looking so much better, Anne,’ said Rosie. ‘You must be delighted to have him back to his old self.’

  ‘He’s not quite there yet, Rosie,’ she replied, ‘but he’s certainly come on in leaps and bounds since he’s been here. He still has quiet days and troubled nights, but they aren’t as frequent.’

  ‘He’s clearly learned to enjoy the company of his children again,’ said Peggy. ‘A few short weeks ago, he’d have sloped off with Roger to the airfield for the day, and not given you or them a thought.’

  ‘Ron was telling me about this new air-freight service that Martin and the others are setting up,’ said Rosie. ‘That must surely have boosted his confidence and given him a new and exciting challenge?’

  ‘Oh, it has,’ said Anne. ‘He never stops talking about it, and spends hours with Kitty, Charlotte and Roger poring over all the documents involved, and going to meetings with the authorities. They’ve finally gained permission from the RAF to use Cliffe aerodrome, and are up there most days with a team of men to get the runway cleared and repaired before they take delivery of their first plane.’ She grinned. ‘It’s all terribly exciting.

  ‘What plane have they bought?’ asked Mary.

  ‘It’s a Douglas C-47 the Americans no longer want, and according to Martin, it’s in good shape considering it was a real workhorse throughout the last two years of the war. I’m just so thrilled they want to fly again after all they’ve been through.’

  ‘Will Kitty and Charlotte be flying too?’ asked Mary.

  ‘Definitely; but not until they have two planes and more orders under their belt – which shouldn’t be too long now with all the emergency supplies being air-lifted into Europe.’

  ‘It all sounds very exciting, Anne. I’m so pleased. But it does make my life seem utterly dull in comparison,’ said Mary on a sigh.

  ‘I’m sure it isn’t dull at all,’ said Anne. ‘Not with your little boy to care for and your teaching at the local school.’

  Mary giggled. ‘John is a live wire, that’s for certain, but he goes to nursery school in the village now, which gets rid of most of his enormous energy, and when I’m doing my private music lessons, he’s looked after by my lovely in-laws, Joseph and Barbara. I’m very lucky really. Things would have been hugely different for us without having such wonderful support.’

  ‘Do you have any more photographs?’ asked Peggy. ‘Only the last ones you sent were ages ago, and he was still very tiny.’

  Mary dug in her handbag and passed Peggy an envelope. ‘I took these before I came down here. You may keep them if you wish.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, dear. How lovely of you.’ Peggy eagerly looked at the small black-and-white images of a sturdy, laughing little boy of two, with a mop of curly dark hair. In one of them he was shown dressed in dungarees, shirt and wellington boots, sitting on his grandfather’s knee and pretending to drive the tractor. ‘My goodness, he’s grown,’ she breathed.

  ‘He certainly has,’ said Mary, ‘and is the image of his father.’ She blinked rapidly, touching the locket he’d given her on her eighteenth birthday. ‘It’s rather lovely, really,’ she carried on, ‘because it’s as if Jack is still with us, and I know it brings a lot of comfort to his parents.’

  The moment was broken by Ivy slamming through the gate and running down the path. ‘I can’t stay, Auntie Peggy,’ she announced breathlessly, ‘but I just had to come and say goodbye.’ She threw herself at Peggy and swamped her in a hug as Andy rolled his eyes and looked at his watch.

  ‘You shouldn’t be rushing about in your
condition,’ Peggy softly chided.

  ‘Yeah, I know, but I got up late and Andy ’as to get back for ’is evening shift at the fire station. And he promised ’is mum ’e’d drop in on ’er before we went home. So I ain’t got much choice, ’ave I?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ laughed Peggy. She turned to Andy and gave him a hug. ‘Try not to let her charge about so much,’ she said.

  ‘Chance’d be a fine thing,’ he replied without rancour. ‘My Ivy’s a proper whirlwind, and nothing can stop ’er once she gets going.’ He took Ivy’s hand and smiled down at her. ‘Come on, love, or we’ll be chasing our tails all day at this rate.’

  Ivy kissed Cordelia and Peggy, and waved to the others on her way back through the gate. Slamming it behind her, she blew more kisses before Andy propelled her down the twitten at a fast pace.

  ‘I’d better go too,’ said Mary, collecting her overnight case and large shopping bag from next to her deckchair. ‘My train leaves in half an hour, and I’m in no condition to run up that awful hill.’ She handed over the shopping bag to Peggy. ‘I brought a few jars of jams and pickles from home, and there’s also a pot of honey from the hives we keep on the farm.’

  ‘Oh, Mary, how very generous,’ gasped Peggy.

  ‘It’s the least I could bring after all you did for me,’ she said, kissing and hugging Peggy and then Cordelia. ‘Let me know when Jim gets back,’ she said. ‘And please keep writing, Peggy. I really love getting all your news.’

  ‘I’ll walk up to the station with you,’ said Rosie. ‘Ron should be back from exercising the dogs now, so he can organise our lunch.’

  Peggy walked with them to the gate and waved goodbye to Mary before they turned up the hill to take the back roads to the station. She looked at her watch and wondered where Fran had got to, but decided she was probably having a lie-in after all the excitement of the previous day.

  She sat down and explored the large shopping bag of goodies and exclaimed over the jars of delicious-looking jam. There was blackberry and apple, gooseberry, rhubarb and apple and quince jelly. The honey was clear and golden; the jars of piccalilli and different chutneys positively stuffed with vegetables straight from the farm’s kitchen garden. And at the very bottom was a cooked ham wrapped in muslin.