by Tania Crosse
A PLACE TO CALL HOME
Tania Crosse
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About A Place to Call Home
An intense and emotive WW2 story of love, courage and friendship in the face of the horrors and hardships of war.
Thrown together by tragic circumstances some years previously, Meg and Clarrie’s hard-won friendship eventually brought them both some sense of peace. But how deep do their feelings run, and how long can their happiness last?
The outbreak of war brings a new set of concerns and emotions, especially with the arrival of the evacuees who come to share their home and lives.
Can they unite to form a bond powerful enough to sustain them through the darkest days of war? And what will happen when an enemy from Meg’s past comes back to haunt her?
The heart-warming sequel to Nobody's Girl.
Contents
Welcome Page
About A Place to Call Home
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Acknowledgements
About Tania Crosse
Also by Tania Crosse
Become an Aria Addict
Copyright
For my dear friend of forty-five years, Terri Bolus.
And as always, for my darling husband. I will love you beyond
eternity.
One
Summer 1939
Nana May Whitehead lifted her eyes from the mending she was doing in the sewing room at Robin Hill House, and glanced across at the slim, elegant figure standing by the window. Clarissa Stratfield-Whyte was gazing out over the fields that bordered the long driveway, fields that were once grazed by sheep but were currently turned over to hay meadows. Nana May doubted, though, that her mistress was very much interested in the hay itself. Putting down her sewing and taking up instead her sturdy walking stick that was propped against her chair, the old lady heaved herself to her feet and, sliding her glasses to the end of her nose, went to join Clarissa by the window.
‘What’s caught your attention out there, Clarrie, dear?’ she asked softly as she came up to the younger woman’s shoulder.
Clarrie turned her head and smiled down serenely at the elderly lady. Oh, what a rock Nana May had been to her. She’d warmed to her immediately on that first day Wigmore had taken her home to meet his widowed mother, in the opulent London villa that had been the home to the wealthy, industrialist family since mid-Victorian times. May Whitehead had been engaged as nanny to Wigmore just before his birth, and had been part of the family ever since. Now the younger Mrs Stratfield-Whyte loved Nana May as much as everyone else did. Twenty-three years she’d been married to her dearest Wig, and the older woman had been part of every day, sharing every joy and tragedy.
‘I was just thinking how happy Meg seems now,’ Clarrie mused, turning her gaze back to the field at the front of the house where two young people were gathering in the hay. ‘So different from the headstrong young lady who came to us, what? It can’t be far off three years ago now. The way she blamed us for the accident. And now look at her.’
‘Poor child was lost in grief,’ Nana May said quietly. ‘Can you imagine being not quite sixteen and losing both your parents in one fell swoop? At any age, grief can manifest itself in anger, but when you’re that young… I know it was the chauffeur’s fault, that despicable Nathaniel Green. But you and Wig were travelling in the car, so I can understand why she blamed you, too, at first. Green was put away, but you were accessible. But, you know, I was so proud of the way you insisted on standing by her. You gave her not just a home, but time and love to help her heal.’
‘I’d like to think I did my best for her. But I’d rather not think about Green again!’ Clarrie’s voice rang with unaccustomed bitterness. ‘After what he did to our poor Meg to try and get his revenge, if you can call it that, when it was his own fault he was sent to prison for dangerous driving, not hers. And then what he put poor Jane through, as well.’
‘Well, at least he’s back behind bars where he belongs. And that Esme Carter.’
‘Yes,’ Clarrie sighed, recalling the other girl she’d once tried to help, but who’d ended up in cahoots with Green. ‘I made a mistake taking her on all those years ago. But I thought I was doing something good. Taking on a child from an orphanage. And look how she repaid us.’
‘Perhaps that was part of the trouble. Never having had anyone to truly love her, when that devil started showing her affection, she fell for it, hook, line and sinker. He manipulated her, and she let him drag her down with him.’
Clarrie shook her head slowly. ‘Oh, Nana, what a wise old owl you are. But our dear Meg was orphaned so tragically, and she never behaved like that,’ she said, the contentment returning to her face. ‘She lost her family and her home, and came to us because she had nowhere else to go. She might’ve been in pain and looking for someone to blame, but she was always polite and dignified. And now she’s part of the family. Just like you, Nana May.’
The old nanny smiled sagely and turned away to go back to her mending. Yes. Meg Chandler was one of the family now. But just as she felt Esme Carter had always had a nasty streak in her even before she came under Green’s influence, Nana May felt as if Meg was waiting for something. Always had been. The girl had lost the family farm because she’d been too young to take over the tenancy after her parents had died, and she’d gradually come to realise that the Stratfield-Whytes were good, kind people. But look how, with her farming expertise, Meg had turned the small country estate round when things had been tight. For someone so young, she had a very mature head on her shoulders.
Nana May had been there when the child had arrived at Robin Hill House, declaring that she wasn’t coming as a guest, as Clarrie had wished. No. She wanted to be a servant. All she wanted was a roof over her head. She didn’t even want any wages, although Clarrie had insisted on paying her. She wanted to be independent of the allowance she was to receive until she came of age by way of insurance compensation from the accident. Instead, she wanted that money invested, together with the proceeds from everything that her parents had owned at the farm. Even at the tender age of sixteen, she’d had her head screwed on tightly.
Had Clarrie forgotten that day? Nana May hadn’t. She knew Clarrie wanted Meg to stay at Robin Hill House forever. And the fact that Meg had clearly fallen in love with Ralph, head gardener, now that his father had gone into semi-retirement, and that Ralph worshipped her in return, could mean that Clarrie’s wish would come true. Clarrie tried to conceal it, but Nana May knew that her mistress loved Meg. And the wise o
ld lady knew why.
But who knew what the future held for any of them? Adolf Hitler had taken Austria for himself the previous year and later, part of Czechoslovakia. And now in March of this year, he’d marched into Prague and annexed the remainder of the mineral-rich country, in defiance of the Munich Agreement. British Prime Minister Chamberlain had warned Germany against its policy of domination by force, and almost in reply, Germany’s ally, Italy, had invaded and overcome Albania.
At last, the British government had started to believe what that warmonger, Winston Churchill, had been saying for years was true. That Hitler was highly dangerous and not to be trusted to keep to any past agreements. The government had even passed the Military Training Act, by which all single men aged between twenty and twenty-two were liable to be called up to a six-month military training course, after which they would be discharged into an active reserve. Ralph and the estate’s maintenance man, Bob, were just too old to qualify, but who knew what would happen in the future? Wigmore had been in negotiation with Mr Churchill for some time, and was now engaged in manufacturing shell cases at the vast engineering works in East London, just as he had in the Great War. It was going to happen all over again, wasn’t it?
As ever, Nana May kept her own counsel as she went back to her chair and lowered herself into it. If she were honest with herself, she secretly loved Meg as the grandchild she’d never had, and she, too, hoped the girl would stay at Robin Hill House. But one thing was certain. Everybody’s life would be put on hold if what they all feared was coming indeed materialised. She only hoped her old bones – after all, she was in her eightieth year – would be strong enough to support Clarrie and Meg and all the Robin Hill family while this Hitler fellow was on the rampage.
Nana May’s stomach steadily churned. The war that had taken so many lives, the war to end all wars, had failed. And another was surely on its way.
*
Unaware that she was being watched from the sewing-room window, Meg stopped the tractor at the end of the field and turned in the driving seat to look back over her shoulder. The previous month, they’d borrowed the machine to prepare the ground for the planting of the turnips and swedes that would feed the cows through the following autumn and winter. There wasn’t enough land to warrant the expense of buying a tractor of their own. Some of the forty acres was, after all, taken up by the garden, the lake and woodland. But this year, Meg wanted to cultivate as much land as they possibly could, and a neighbouring farmer had been happy to lend them his tractor for a small fee.
Meg couldn’t wait to learn to drive it the first time it had rattled up the front drive. She remembered fondly the teasing arguments she’d had with her father over acquiring a tractor. How far she’d come since then. She could look back now without pain, able to rekindle her memories of her beloved parents without tears. And all because of the love and support shown her by Wigmore and Clarissa – or Mr W and Mrs C as everyone called them – Nana May, and all the staff. And, of course, Ralph.
When she’d first arrived at Robin Hill House, it was Bob, the gentle, easy-going general handyman, who’d shown her most attention. Ralph, then the under-gardener and also acting chauffeur after Green’s dismissal, she’d resented. Despised, almost. He’d been too involved with the aftermath of the accident that had left her orphaned. Always seemed to be there when things went wrong and in her agony, she needed someone to blame. But it was Ralph who’d searched all night when her beloved dog, Mercury, had gone missing, Ralph who’d made her first birthday at Robin Hill House into a turning point in her recovery from grief. Ralph it was who had presented her with the puppy after Mercury had been poisoned, to whom she had turned when Jane had been kidnapped. And when he had risked his own life to save the scullery maid, Meg had realised that he meant the world to her.
Now when she was with Ralph, her heart seemed to fly. His teasing banter was a challenge that set her mind on fire as she rose to meet him. He made her feel so alive.
‘You two are meant for each other,’ Bob had said wistfully to Ralph, since his good friend hadn’t been unaware of his feelings for Meg. ‘I’ve seen it coming for months, waiting for the pair of you to realise how you felt. So I want you both to be happy. And, to be honest, I’m getting on rather well with Sally.’
Indeed throughout the winter and spring, Ralph had watched the relationship between Bob and Sally, the replacement housemaid for the scheming Esme, grow and blossom. And he really felt that all the bad times for Meg were behind her now, and that together they could go forward and build a new life for themselves. And with the arrival of summer, they couldn’t have been happier – except for the cloud that hung over the entire country.
The previous week they’d borrowed the tractor again, and Meg had honed her driving skills preparing the ground for the flatpole seedlings they’d then planted by hand, working long into the light June evenings. Then it was time for the swedes, and now they were haymaking in the flat, eight-acre field to one side of the drive.
While the hay sweep gathered the turned and dried swaths into larger windrows, Ralph still had to fork the hay onto the small cart by hand. Meg watched him, her heart flipping over at his strong, pliant body bending as he worked. Inevitably, the tractor-drawn machine worked faster than Ralph could, and so every now and then, Meg would turn off the engine and jump down to help him catch up. She did so now, running back alongside the ridge of hay, a broad grin on her face.
‘Come on, slowcoach, catch up,’ she teased as she reached him.
‘Cheeky monkey,’ he grinned back and, throwing the pitchfork to the ground, caught Meg in his arms. ‘Where’s my kiss, then?’
‘Greedy! You had one last time,’ she giggled, trying to escape.
‘Then it’s time for another.’
She pretended to struggle, laughing hysterically until his mouth on hers silenced her. His lips were warm and moist, and Meg never ceased to be amazed how their touch sent ripples down her spine. She slid her arms about his neck, and his went about her waist, pulling her against him, and she felt the lean length of him pressed against her own body.
A thrumming sound in the clear summer sky above them made them draw apart. The droning increased in volume, and as they both turned their eyes heavenwards, three small planes passed overhead and disappeared. A long sigh expired from Meg’s lungs as her hand still rested on Ralph’s arm.
‘D’you know what they were?’ she asked ruefully.
‘Too high to see. But either spitfires or hurricanes, I think. Heading for Biggin Hill or one of the other aerodromes around, I guess. New ones are arriving every day.’
Meg’s heart plummeted. ‘There’s definitely going to be a war, isn’t there?’ she murmured, her previous happiness fled. ‘Mr W’s designed some new machinery to make bomb cases faster, and the factory’s been working flat out all year.’
‘Yup,’ Ralph answered, his mouth twisting. ‘The government wouldn’t have authorised that so early if they’d thought the Munich Agreement would hold.’
‘Which it hasn’t, of course. Hitler’s already broken it once. But what makes me feel so guilty is to think you and I mightn’t’ve had a roof over our heads without the threat of war. Mr W’s factory was really beginning to struggle before it was recommissioned for making shell cases again, like it did in the Great War.’
‘You mustn’t think like that, Meg. It’s not our fault Hitler marched into Prague and just took the rest of Czechoslovakia he didn’t get in the Agreement. Or that his friend Mussolini walked in and took over Albania. No, Meg. Winston Churchill’s right. We’ve got to be prepared. Hitler could have us in his sights next.’
Meg nodded slowly. ‘I know. It’s just… so horrible. My dad and his generation fought and died or were maimed just so that it’d never happen again. And now this.’
Ralph sucked in his lean cheeks. ‘I know. So let’s just enjoy the peace while it lasts, eh? Like Jane does.’
‘Yes.’ Meg had to smile. ‘Eric, her policeman f
riend, came to pick her up again today. He’s been so kind to her ever since that night. Only I’m sure there’s more to it than that. They wouldn’t still be seeing each other nine months later if there wasn’t!’
‘Silver linings and all that,’ Ralph agreed. ‘She’d maybe never have found a sweetheart else. And she’s really blossomed since then, with Eric’s attentions. So, perhaps being rescued from kidnappers did have a good side to it.’
‘You were the one who really saved her from Green. Going in on your own like that before the police arrived.’
‘Only because Green was starting to knock her about. But at least Green’s been locked up for years and can’t do anyone any more harm.’
‘And Esme, too. Even if they were more lenient to her.’
‘Well, I had to say what I saw. That she tried to stop Green hurting Jane. And it seemed he was using Esme all along, egging her on to find ways of getting back at you.’
‘Oh, but she had a vicious streak of her own,’ Meg snorted. ‘It was her idea to poison Mercury, even if Green carried it out. I could never forgive her for that.’
‘Well, they’re both banged up for some years, so they both got what they deserved.’
‘Not for long enough in my mind. But at least we can rest easy for some time. And Jane has Eric because of it.’
Ralph gave an amused grunt, and then his face sobered. ‘Yes, funny how things work out. You don’t… d’you ever think that if your parents hadn’t died, we’d never have met?’
Meg stared at him, and saw the anguish etched on his beloved face. Her heart lurched. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘My parents died because Green was driving dangerously. Not so that Fate could bring us together. And who knows, we might’ve met somehow anyway. And then perhaps I wouldn’t have been so horrible to you.’
‘And that, my darling, is all in the past.’ Ralph drew her towards him again, and engaged her in a long, deep kiss that sent shivers of delight through her entire being.