by Ellie Dean
He was utterly amazed by the transformation, and could hardly believe that he, Charlie and Grandad Ron had actually slept down here – and that they’d shared the once damp and cramped space with Harvey and the ferrets. As he tried to take it all in, he heard footsteps on the kitchen floor above him, and quickly gathered up his things.
Running up the steps he pushed open the door, ready to greet his mother, but the words never came as he took in how different the kitchen was.
‘Bob!’ Peggy leapt from her kitchen chair and threw her arms round him. ‘Oh, Bob, it’s so lovely to have you home, even if it is just for a little while.’
He was in a daze as he hugged her and let her fuss over him. Charlie had warned him in a letter that he wouldn’t recognise the place – and he didn’t – but it was the change in his mother that was so startling. Her soft curves had gone and she seemed thinner and much smaller than he remembered. And there was a brisk efficiency about her that hadn’t been there before, which revealed itself in the way she took his coat to dry by the fire, put on the kettle and pressed him into a chair. She was also very smartly dressed, even though it was the middle of the afternoon – and he found that a bit shocking.
‘Cordelia will be down in a minute.’ Peggy gazed at him adoringly. ‘My goodness, Bob, I thought Charlie looked like your father, but you … You’re the very image of him.’
‘That’s what Stan said, and I’ll take it as a compliment.’ He grinned at her. ‘I thought I was in the wrong house at first. You have been busy, Mum. Is the rest of the place this posh?’
‘It’s all lovely and clean and fresh,’ she replied, quickly filling the teapot and giving it a good stir. ‘I was fed up with how dreary it looked, and now I’m earning good money, I decided to spend a bit of it on doing up the place. I do hope you like it, Bob,’ she said anxiously.
‘Having a downstairs toilet is definitely a bonus,’ he replied. ‘I always hated having to go outside at night. And this kitchen looks really nice, and much bigger than I remember. I’m glad you kept the chairs, though.’
‘I didn’t want to,’ she admitted, ‘but everyone made so much fuss, I didn’t have the heart to chuck them out.’
‘Well, well, well,’ said Cordelia, coming into the room with Daisy. ‘Look who’s here, and isn’t he handsome, Daisy?’
Daisy stared at Bob in confusion. ‘Charlie?’
Bob laughed and squatted down in front of her. ‘Hello, Daisy. I’m your big brother Bob,’ he said. ‘And I’ve come to spend Christmas with you.’
‘Bob,’ she said solemnly, her big brown eyes wide with interest as she regarded him. ‘I’m four now,’ she said proudly. ‘How old are you?’
‘I’m eighteen,’ he replied
Daisy frowned. ‘That’s old,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘But Gangan’s eighty-one, and that’s really, really old.’
‘Daisy!’ admonished Peggy. ‘That’s enough.’
Bob laughed, turned to Cordelia and gave her a gentle hug. ‘You’re looking very well for someone who’s really, really old,’ he teased, although she wasn’t really, and he suspected she might have recently been crying. ‘It’s good to see some things haven’t changed round here,’ he added with a wink at his mother.
‘Sit down and drink your tea before it gets cold,’ said Peggy, trying to be stern, but failing to hold back a smile.
‘I promised Charlie I’d look in on his match if I could,’ he replied, glancing at the clock on the mantel. He drained the cup of tea, patted a wide-eyed Daisy on the head and then reached down for the heavy bags. ‘Before I go, I’d better give you this lot,’ he said.
‘Presents!’ shouted Daisy, clapping her hands.
‘They’re not really presents,’ explained Bob, delving beneath his clean clothes to bring out several tins, numerous jars and a dozen carefully wrapped parcels. ‘Proper presents are for Christmas, so you’ll have to wait a bit longer.’
He turned to his mother. ‘Vi and I thought you’d appreciate a little extra over Christmas as the rationing is so tight now.’
Peggy and Cordelia gasped at the bounty. There was a home-cured ham and rashers of bacon; jams, chutneys, tins of cakes; home-made pork pies, apple pies and meat pies, and canisters of butter, cream and honey. There were even packets of tea, coffee and sugar, but the crowning glories were the iced Christmas cake and fruit-filled plum pudding.
‘Oh, Bob,’ said Peggy through her tears. ‘What wonderful, generous gifts. We shall certainly make great use of them, but I do wish Vi was here to join us for Christmas.’
‘I tried to persuade her to come, but she’s settled at Owlet Farm, and now there are children about the place again, she’s planning on a real family Christmas.’
‘We’ll be having one here too,’ said Peggy delightedly. ‘Frank’s coming with Betty and Brendon and their little boy, Joseph. Your grandad will be here with Rosie – and probably the dogs. And then there’s Jack Smith who’s on his own, and Danuta who is bringing her chap along too. I’m hoping Cissy will come down, but I’m not holding my breath.’
‘What about Anne and Martin?’
‘They’re spending the day in their own home with the children and then coming over here on Boxing Day. Suzy and Anthony are coming down to spend Christmas with Doris and John and they’ll be bringing little Teddy and Angela, the new baby, so it’ll be a full house here on Boxing Day.’
‘It’s a good thing I brought extra supplies, then,’ said Bob. ‘Sounds like you’ll be feeding the five thousand as usual.’ He grinned, pushed back from the table and retrieved his coat from in front of the range fire where it was in danger of getting scorched. ‘Enjoy putting it all away in that posh fridge, Mum, and I’ll see you later.’
24
Doris was in the same euphoric state as her sister, for like Peggy she’d been living with upheaval, dirt, dust and inconvenience for weeks, and now the work on the two bungalows was finished just in time for Christmas. She parked the car, but instead of retrieving her shopping and going indoors, she just sat there admiring the result.
There were dormer windows in the roof now, for the vast attic had been reconfigured into a double bedroom, bathroom and dressing room with a flight of stairs coming down into what had been the two entrance halls, and which now had a single front door. The walls between the bungalows had been knocked through and a graceful archway led into a spacious sitting room where John’s spare bedroom and bathroom had once been. Another two arches behind the staircase led into a kitchen that ran right along the back of the house and overlooked the combined gardens.
The front room and part of the spare bedroom on Doris’s side had been knocked through and was now an elegant dining room, and her old bedroom had been enlarged and now had an en-suite bathroom to cater for visitors. Deep cupboards had been built beneath the stairs to house John’s golf clubs, the Hoover, and all the usual junk one accumulated, and in her lovely new kitchen there was a washing machine, refrigerator and an AGA which heated the water and the radiators and kept the whole house cosy.
Doris sighed with pleasure, for the house had fulfilled the dreams she and John shared, and every time she walked through that front door she was reminded of how lucky she was.
As the rain drummed on the car roof and the wind buffeted against it, Doris snapped out of her thoughts and gathered up her shopping baskets and numerous packages. She was about to struggle out of the car hampered by the strong wind coming up from the sea when John came hurrying towards her with his large golfing umbrella.
‘I was looking out for you,’ he said, taking the baskets, and shielding her from the rain as they scurried up the garden path. ‘Let’s get you inside. You must be exhausted.’
They entered the quiet, warm luxury of their beautiful home and John took her packages and helped her off with her coat and hat. He kissed her damp cheek. ‘The kettle’s on. I thought you’d appreciate a cuppa after trawling round the shops most of the day.’
She took his hand and softly k
issed his lips. ‘Whatever would I do without you?’ she murmured.
‘I sincerely hope you never have to,’ he replied, giving her a brief hug. ‘Come on, let’s have that tea and you can show me what you bought.’
Doris took off her wet shoes and left them on the doormat. Slipping her feet into her slippers, she followed him past the stairs and into the kitchen, which despite the gloomy day looked wonderfully bright and welcoming with its pale cream walls, white cupboards and the original blue and red floor tiles the builder had managed to match up with some he’d found in his shed.
She sat at the scrubbed pine kitchen table and lit a welcome cigarette. ‘The queues were horrendous, but I didn’t manage to get everything I was after,’ she said. ‘The shops are half-empty and there’s very little choice, so Christmas lunch will be very much a case of making do with what there was. But I found a wooden fire engine for Teddy, a smart tie and cufflinks for Anthony and a very pretty blouse for Susan. I splashed out a bit on the new baby and found a silver rattle for her in one of the antique shops. I’ll have to clean it thoroughly, of course – heaven knows the germs that might be on it.’
John was smiling as he stowed away the bread, vegetables and tins, and put the meat, eggs and fish in the fridge. ‘It sounds as if you had a successful day. I’m afraid I’ve been very lazy really and only managed to put together a vegetable pie for supper.’
‘It’s a shame the weather’s so awful. I know how much you enjoy your weekend golf,’ she sighed.
She sipped the tea he placed in front of her and relaxed. ‘The town’s looking pretty with lots of lights everywhere, and the shop windows all dressed for Christmas. The council workers were decorating the tree in the High Street, and having a hard time of it with the wind and rain. There hasn’t been one there since 1940, so it’s lovely to see it again. I expect Peggy will be taking Daisy down there once it’s all decorated – just as our mother used to take us when we were small. It became quite a Cliffehaven tradition over the years.’
‘Then we must take Teddy and baby Angela down to see it if the weather’s clement,’ said John. His smile was warm and full of love as he looked at her. ‘I’m really looking forward to Christmas this year,’ he said. ‘I’m sure Anthony and Suzy will be amazed by what we’ve had done, and there’ll be lots of room for Teddy to race about on the tricycle I bought him.’
Doris smiled although she dreaded the thought of her new parquet floors being scratched by a small boy on a tricycle. ‘It will be a real family Christmas for both of us,’ she said. ‘Christmas Day here, and Boxing Day with Peggy and all her brood. Bob’s due home today, you know, and Cissy might even come down from London.’
She stopped babbling when she noticed that John had stopped smiling and there was a terrible sadness in his eyes. She reached for his hand. ‘There’s always a chance that Michael’s had a change of heart, and will turn up sometime over the holiday.’
‘I doubt that very much,’ said John. ‘He might be my son, Doris, but after the way he’s behaved towards you, I have no wish to see him again. He’d have to have a radical change in character before I allowed him to step one foot in our home.’
Doris knew in her heart that this awful rift between father and son was not of her making, but she still felt guilty about it. However, if he did turn up unexpectedly it could cause a ghastly atmosphere and ruin everything they’d been so looking forward to. She silently hoped they’d seen the last of him.
It was now Christmas Eve and it had at last stopped raining. Thankful for the weak sun glinting on the puddles, Peggy looked out of her kitchen window to watch Bob and Charlie cleaning out the chicken coop.
Ron was busy digging up the rotten vegetables and turning over the ground of the vegetable plot, hoping it would dry out enough for him to plant his winter seedlings. Harvey and Monty were exploring the compost heap, and Daisy was getting in everyone’s way by tramping about in her wellington boots and issuing orders.
Peggy leaned on the new sink and rested her chin in her hand as she watched the activity. She still couldn’t get over the fact that Bob was a man – a tall, handsome man just like his father, with the strong arms and big, capable hands that a farmer needed, and the weathered complexion of someone who spent his days out of doors.
She bit her lip as she watched her sons leave the coop and start fooling about with the dogs. They were as tall as each other and had the dark hair and bright blue Reilly eyes, but as big and grown-up as they were, it seemed they still possessed their grandfather’s aptitude for mischief.
Ron stopped forking the ground to turn his back to the wind and fill his pipe, and she giggled as Bob surreptitiously removed the fork and hid it behind the coop. Ron began patting all his pockets, looking puzzled, for he’d left his tobacco pouch on the garden wall, and hadn’t seen Charlie slip it into his own pocket. Both boys were trying very hard not to laugh when a bewildered Ron stared at the spot where his garden fork had been and turned a complete circle in search of it.
‘Ach, to be sure, you’re a couple of wee divils,’ he roared, more for effect than from any real anger. ‘You wait until I get hold of you, then you’ll be laughing on the other sides of your wee faces so you will.’
‘You’ve got to catch us first, Grandad,’ said Charlie.
Ron made a grab for him, but he vaulted over the back wall, and Bob shot out of the gate. The dogs barked and chased after them, leaving Ron shaking his head as they disappeared up the hill. ‘’Tis grand it is you can run,’ he shouted after them. ‘But I’ll get me own back, you see if I don’t.’
Daisy was laughing so hard she lost her balance and plumped down onto the path.
Charlie’s cheeky face appeared round the corner. ‘Lost anything, Grandad?’
Ron just caught the roll of tobacco that came sailing over the wall, and shook his fist good-naturedly before settling his rump against the wall to fill his pipe and get it lit. He cupped his filthy hands around the match and caught sight of Peggy watching him through the window. Shrugging his shoulders and grinning broadly, he followed tell-tale Daisy to the back of the coop to retrieve his fork.
Peggy turned from the window and went to check on the chicken stew which was bubbling away in the slow oven. Ron and Bob had agreed that the hens were now too old to be productive, so they would use them for stews, soups and stock. This was the first of eight, and although it was sad to see them gutted and plucked, it did mean they’d provide good, filling meals for quite a while – and would be a welcome change from the usual rabbit.
She sat at the kitchen table with a cigarette, poised to stop them all coming into her lovely basement with their muddy boots, and wondered if it might be an idea to get a porch built over the back door where boots, wellingtons and wet coats could be stowed instead of bringing them into the house. She smiled at the idea and decided she’d tackle Ron and Frank about it tomorrow after they’d eaten and had a few drinks.
The weeks of worrying over how to feed everyone over the Christmas break had been allayed by Vi’s generous bounty and the three food parcels that had arrived this morning. There had been two from Australia, each filled with tinned ham, salmon and jam; bags of lemons, dried fruit and nuts, as well as sugar, tea and coffee, and Christmas cards from Sarah, Jane, Sybil, Rita and Peter – it seemed they were all planning to meet up over the holiday period.
Cordelia had received a parcel from her family in Canada, and this had been full of tins of gorgeous biscuits, shortbread, more dried fruit, knitting wool and neatly wrapped small gifts. Peggy’s cupboards were groaning with it all, and the turkey from Ron and Rosie was so large, it would probably feed everyone for a week.
The knowledge that Jim would miss yet another Christmas was sobering, but he’d sent a lovely parcel of presents for everyone, and a long letter to tell her how much he was missing her and longed to be with them all. It wasn’t the same as having him here, but his loving words had warmed her, and she could start to tentatively believe he would be home b
efore another Christmas loomed.
The house was peaceful for a change as Daisy and the boys were outside with the dogs. Danuta was on duty and would be spending the evening with Stanislaw, who was slowly and painfully learning to walk unaided again. Cordelia had gone out with Bertie and would be home soon, for she didn’t want to miss Doris’s drinks party this evening and the chance to nose around the transformed bungalow.
Doris was very proud of the house, and Peggy knew her sister well enough to realise the drinks party was her chance to show it off. Peggy had already been round there, and had been amazed at the transformation, but she still preferred what she’d had done here, for the essence of the old house was still evident.
She stubbed out her cigarette and checked that Ron was still with Daisy, then wandered into the dining room. There was a large tree now gracing the bay window, bedecked with the tinsel, glass baubles and tiny coloured lights she’d found in her attic. A pile of presents would be placed beneath it once Daisy was in bed and asleep, and her stocking was already hanging from the mantelpiece waiting to be filled.
The table looked lovely with a white linen cloth set with brass candlesticks, home-made crackers and a centrepiece of holly and ivy laced with scarlet ribbon. She’d unearthed her grandmother’s heavy silver cutlery from a case in the attic and had spent an entire evening polishing it to a gleam, and it looked wonderful set against the scarlet placemats and napkins she’d made from the remnants of an old damask curtain.
There would be fourteen of them sitting down for lunch tomorrow, plus baby Joseph who would be using Daisy’s old high chair now he was big enough. She hadn’t heard from Cissy recently, and as she’d been reluctant to make a firm decision about coming down for Christmas the last time they’d spoken on the telephone, Peggy doubted she would come. She understood that it was probably a very busy time for the taxi company and the attractions of London would be far more tempting than a family Christmas in Cliffehaven.