A Christmas Promise

by Annie Groves

  ‘You found them before they were lost, you mean.’ Olive smiled, going to fetch a bowl to put the eggs into. Barney was a good lad, she thought, knowing Archie – and herself, if she was honest – had done a really good job of taking care of him, with help from the rest of the inhabitants of number 13, of course.

  There had been no word of Barney’s father, who was away fighting and hadn’t been back home since Barney’s mother and grandmother had been killed during the blitz back in 1940. Archie had said many a time that he would love to adopt the boy, but with things being the way they were he hadn’t looked into it yet.

  Barney had wandered into Archie and Mrs Dawson’s life before she died tragically last year, and Archie, being the kind-hearted man he was, continued to take care of the lad. Now, Barney was almost as tall as Archie, and already taller than Olive, and he made her feel much safer when he stayed in Dulcie’s old room when Sally was working nights at the hospital.

  Agnes’s time at Article Row had come to an end. She had to try to make a new life for herself. Since Ted died, she knew she had to rise to the challenge and not rely on others to make her life bearable and whole. She was going to take her rightful place on the farm.

  She had tried to keep in touch with Ted’s mum after he died, hoping they could bring comfort to one another, but Mrs Jackson wanted nothing to do with her. It was as if she blamed Agnes for Ted’s death in some way, and she had no compunction in telling Agnes exactly what she thought of her always nipping at Ted’s heels. But it wasn’t like that. Truly it wasn’t.

  Taking a slow deep breath to calm her racing heart as she walked home to Article Row, Agnes knew she must not think about that now. It would only bring on one of those episodes Olive called a ‘nervous attack’, when her heart would beat so wildly she felt it would burst inside and choke her.

  No, her time in London had come to an end and she had to move on in more ways than one. She was determined to leave first thing tomorrow morning.

  Agnes wondered if Olive would expect a week’s notice. She had paid her rent up until next Saturday so Olive wouldn’t be out of pocket, but Agnes knew that if she had to stay until then she would never leave at all. She would find too many reasons to stay if she had time to think about it. In her heart Agnes had already said the painful goodbyes, cried silent tears on the way home – home? She had envisioned the whole leaving scenario in her head before steeling her resolve in a way she would never have found possible before Ted’s death, and as she turned into Article Row she felt ready to face her future. But by the time she reached the front door, her nerve was lost.

  ‘Oh, Agnes, I feel so helpless,’ Olive said as Agnes took off her coat.

  Seeing her landlady’s stricken face, Agnes threw her regulation railway coat over the banister and rushed to her side.

  ‘What is it? Have you heard news of Tilly? Has something happened?’ The questions tumbled from Agnes’s lips so fast they were tripping over each other.

  Olive lifted her hand. ‘No it’s nothing like that, it’s just …’ She hesitated momentarily and then sighing she said with little conviction, ‘Take no notice, I’m just being silly … It’s the war, the rationing, the grey expressions on people’s faces … and not hearing from Tilly for so long.’ Her final words caved in on themselves and Agnes was alarmed to see the woman whom she considered to be her mainstay, crumble. In seconds she was wrapping her arms around the older woman’s shoulders, gently shushing like she used to do when trying to comfort one of the younger children back at the orphanage.

  ‘Tilly will be fine and we’ll all get through this war, Olive, you’ll see.’ With her sensitive heart Agnes couldn’t tell Olive just now that she, too, intended to leave Article Row. But Agnes knew she could not leave it too long. Life in the centre of London was too fast for her without Ted to rely on, and with the never-ending threat of air raids she couldn’t take much more. Like everybody else, Agnes knew she needed peace and quiet but there was little chance of that while she stayed in London. The opportunity that awaited her on the farm in the Surrey countryside could save her sanity, she was sure. She would tell Olive – just as soon as she could pluck up the courage – but she would have to prepare her landlady first; Olive deserved more than a goodbye note propped up against the sugar bowl.

  ‘Ignore me, Agnes,’ said Olive. ‘I’m being silly. Now, what were you going to tell me?’

  ‘Oh, it was nothing,’ Agnes said. Not today and perhaps not even tomorrow.

  FIVE

  ‘Dulcie isn’t coming this afternoon,’ Olive told Audrey Windle as they tidied away the remains of the morning’s knitting session in the church hall. She was feeling a bit better now after her little wobble with Agnes the other day, and after giving herself a good talking to she was back to her usual cheerful self. ‘Dulcie sent a boy around with a note before I left this morning to say Hope was feeling a little under the weather.’ Olive brought more cups into the little back room they used for making tea, while the other WVS members were busy making boot socks or balaclavas for men serving abroad.

  ‘Nothing serious, I hope,’ Audrey said, drying the first load of tea cups and putting them back into the cupboard with the saucers. There had been a good turnout this morning so there were a lot of cups to wash, dry and put away.

  ‘She’s teething,’ said Olive, putting the next lot of cups into the now cooling water and beginning to wash them. ‘You know what children are like at that age.’

  ‘Is Dulcie still looking after her sister’s boy?’ Audrey asked conversationally.

  ‘Yes, most definitely,’ Olive said. She told Audrey almost everything about her life. Being the good friend she was, Audrey would tell nobody else, and she was the only person with whom Olive could comfortably discuss her private concerns. ‘Dulcie and David are quite attached to the little fellow. They treat him exactly like their own child, and little Hope loves him to bits, and why wouldn’t she? Dulcie has reared him since he was born; he is like a son to her.’

  ‘It’s wonderful to see Dulcie’s caring nature come to the fore,’ Audrey said, smiling.

  ‘I know. She was quite a game girl when she first came to Article Row,’ Olive said, laughing, as she put the clean cups and saucers onto the draining board ready to be dried and put away. ‘I almost didn’t let the room to her, although she did have quite a forceful personality back then and I didn’t seem to have much choice.’ Both women smiled at the thought. ‘You are right, though, Audrey,’ Olive continued, ‘marriage and motherhood have been the making of Dulcie. She has such a happy little family now.’ As they finished their chores Olive told Audrey that she would go and see Dulcie later.

  ‘Well, if you’ve a couple of hours spare and don’t mind terribly, I could do with a hand at the Red Cross shop.’

  ‘Of course.’ Olive was glad to be of service and it would take her mind off Tilly. ‘I’ll just get my coat and hat.’

  The two women headed towards the Red Cross shop, where they took in anything that could be sold off to raise funds to send parcels to servicemen in need. ‘Oh, look, somebody has left a box,’ said Audrey, bending to pick it up.

  Olive unlocked the door and switched on the electric light, as Audrey put the brown cardboard box onto the L-shaped counter, the long side of which ran along the length of the shop. On the far wall, there was a tall bookcase that contained very old and much-thumbed books, which could be bought for coppers.

  ‘I heard that, the Japanese won’t let any ship into their waters, not even ones flying the Red Cross,’ said Audrey as she went to open the box.

  ‘I heard that too.’ Olive furrowed her brows. ‘I was told that food parcels meant for POWs in Japanese camps are being stockpiled in Vladivostok because the Japs won’t let anything through.’

  ‘Poor souls,’ said Audrey, ‘as if it isn’t bad enough our men are being taken prisoner and held under who knows what kind of conditions?’

  ‘All we can do is keep trying to get something out to them, a bo
ok or a packet of cigarettes …’

  ‘Talking of little luxuries, would you come and have a look at this lot.’ Audrey sounded surprised and when Olive looked inside the box she could understand why. There were luxury items that Olive had seen only in shop windows before the war; silk negligés, a fur jacket, beautiful leather shoes … Audrey’s eyes were wide with surprise. ‘Somebody has left us a fortune’s worth of stuff, and look at this!’ Beneath the quality clothing there were rings of gold; a beautiful sapphire pendant …

  ‘Oh, Olive, wouldn’t this be perfect for Tilly’s birthday – if you don’t mind, of course?’ Audrey said, handing the sparkling gem to Olive, who went over to the latticed sticky-taped windows and held it up to the bright sunshine.

  ‘Audrey, you are so right. Come and have a look at this!’ Olive exclaimed as dazzling violet and vivid purplish tones shot through the exquisite blue stone. ‘It is perfect, just the colour to compliment Tilly’s eyes – I can imagine her wearing it so clearly … How much shall I put in for it?’

  ‘That’s completely up to you, dear,’ Audrey said, patting Olive’s arm. ‘What do you think it’s worth?’

  ‘Well, I have put a bit by for Tilly’s present, and I do want to contribute … What do you think?’

  ‘It’s a fine piece,’ said Audrey, examining the beautiful pendant shaped like a tear- drop. ‘I hardly think the chain will be real gold, though; probably brass. How about two shillings and sixpence?

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t!’ Olive exclaimed. ‘It must be worth more than that. The stone is exquisite and that alone would tempt me to part with thirty shillings.’

  ‘I don’t think that much, dear,’ Audrey said, having another look at the beautiful stone. ‘I know, what do you say to a pound?’

  ‘A pound it is.’ Olive was thrilled with her purchase. ‘It is perfect at twice the price.’

  ‘Here, I think we’ve got a box somewhere,’ Audrey said, fishing in the counter drawer. Moments later, she held a dark blue leather box triumphantly aloft. ‘You won’t find a better gift in Hatton Garden!’

  ‘Audrey you are a life-saver,’ Olive declared, ‘and even though Tilly won’t be home to open it, it will be waiting for her as soon as she is.’ In a moment of exhilarated happiness she threw her arms around her long-time friend.

  ‘You always manage to come up with something special for the occasion.’ Olive laughed as tears filled her eyes. The pendant looked so delicately exclusive nestling in the white silken folds of the leather box that she could not fail to imagine Tilly being thrilled with the gift. ‘I hope it will be something for her to treasure and remember her twenty-first birthday by.’

  ‘I’m sure she will,’ said Audrey with a little catch in her voice. Then rallying: ‘Now who’s going to put the kettle on while the other one puts out the collection boxes?’

  ‘I’ll do that right now.’ Olive laughed, so relieved that she had secured Tilly’s gift. ‘And I’ve still got enough saved up to do a little buffet … You will come, won’t you, Audrey?’

  ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world and I’m sure there might be a spare bottle of communion wine knocking about somewhere to toast Tilly’s big day, even if she isn’t going to be there.’

  ‘You are so kind,’ Olive said. ‘But I wonder who left the box outside.’

  ‘We may never know. Some people don’t want to be recognised when they are giving to charity,’ Audrey said as the shop began to fill.

  For the rest of the morning, Olive and Audrey operated as a team, each knowing how the other worked, having been working together for most of the war. Olive had never had a friend before Audrey. Having been orphaned and married young, she had not really had time for a close friendship and would have welcomed someone like Audrey when she was nursing her sick husband after the Great War. After that, raising Tilly alone and looking after her in-laws, she didn’t have a social life. And if there was one thing she did have to be grateful to this war for – if anything about it could make her grateful – it was joining the WVS and palling up with Audrey, who was a wonderful friend and always there if Olive needed discreetly to voice her worries about anything that was bothering her. Strangely, though, she had never mentioned her meeting with Drew Coleman’s father, letting Audrey think that Tilly’s relationship with the young American journalist had fizzled out naturally.

  She enjoyed her days in the Red Cross shop with Audrey. It gave them a chance to catch up with everything that interested them and usually swap books they had just read. Also, as the air raids had become less frequent of late, it gave them a chance to review the stock and get on with the important work of sending parcels to prisoners of war and servicemen in colder climates, who needed new socks and balaclavas, which the other WVS members knitted in the church hall each morning. There was always something to keep them busy, and that was just the way Olive liked it.

  ‘How’s Archie these days?’ Audrey asked when they closed the shop at lunchtime and sat down in the small back room for a well-earned cup of tea. Olive didn’t mind Audrey’s interest. Audrey had a genuine interest in her friendship with Archie; whereas, Nancy Black was looking for salacious gossip. Also, Olive knew that if she didn’t talk to someone about her slowly developing relationship with Archie she might burst with the effort of keeping it to herself. It was Audrey who had persuaded her that she had done nothing wrong – and nor had Archie.

  They were two people who had been through exactly the same thing – widowed, young in Olive’s case, and not so old in Archie’s – and they each knew exactly what the other was going through. Their friendship was a comfort to Archie, Olive knew – and it seemed that Audrey had more or less given her permission to allow herself to think that way, and not feel ashamed about giving Archie a shoulder to cry on, as she would have done if she had listened to Nancy Black’s toxic criticism of anyone or anything that did not concern her. There was something about Audrey’s kind, calming manner that was wonderfully comforting, and Olive felt she could be herself with Audrey and take time off from being everybody else’s mainstay.

  ‘I heard the butcher is having some meat delivered this afternoon, if you fancy queuing up with me,’ Audrey said over the rim of her cup, and Olive’s face lit up.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be lovely if it was a nice bit of brisket for a pot roast?’ Both women closed their eyes, savouring the memories of the days when they could walk into the butcher’s and choose any piece of meat they wanted. ‘It’ll probably be liver,’ said Olive. ‘I can’t stand liver.’

  ‘Better than the meat bones some housewives say are for the dog.’ Audrey laughed. ‘You know quite well they are rushing home to make a pan of soup with them.’

  ‘And glad of it, too,’ Olive added, looking at Audrey from the other side of the table, and they both burst out laughing.

  ‘Look what this war has turned us into,’ Olive said, when they had calmed a little, ‘a pair of drooling dreamers just at the mention of a cheap cut of meat.’

  ‘This pie’s lovely, Olive,’ Archie said appreciatively, enjoying the steak and kidney that Olive had managed to bag at the butcher’s.

  ‘I was lucky, there wasn’t much left after I’d been served, and I’m sure Audrey was sorry she let me go before her in the queue.’

  ‘I’ve heard some farmers are substituting beef with horse,’ said Archie, who was in a position to know these things.

  Barney suddenly looked up from his plate, his face a mixture of don’t-say-that distress and revulsion, his knife and fork hovering between his pie and his mouth, and Olive raised her eyebrows.

  ‘You’d eat it if you were starving, lad,’ Archie said, tucking in, ‘and if you don’t want your share, just push it over this way.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t get me that easily,’ Barney said, relaxing and cutting a wedge of pie. ‘I nearly fell for that then!’ He chuckled as he tucked into his pie, enjoying every mouthful now.

  ‘I can assure you that I would never buy horse to eat, and our butcher would ne
ver dare sell it,’ Olive said in a voice that brooked no argument.

  ‘How would you know?’ Archie asked conversationally. ‘Have you ever tasted horse?’

  ‘No,’ said Olive, then, after pondering for a moment, added, ‘at least, I don’t think so.’ She looked around the table, satisfied with what she saw. Sally wasn’t home from the hospital yet, and Agnes was on a late shift and would eat at work, so that just left her and Archie, Barney and baby Alice. And a wonderful family scene it made too, she thought – except none of them was related. But that didn’t detract from her feeling of contentment. And after securing Tilly’s present for her twenty-first birthday, she knew the day could not be more perfect.

  SIX

  ‘Have you been waiting long?’ Rick panted as he hurried on to the platform where Tilly was still patiently waiting, his khaki greatcoat flying in his wake.

  ‘Only most of the afternoon.’ Tilly laughed. ‘I’ve had to fend off many an amorous advance while I’ve been waiting for my knight in rusty armour to turn up!’ She laughed as Rick gave her an enormous bear hug that almost squeezed the air right out of her body. Holding on to her khaki cap as he twirled her around, she felt herself grow dizzy, staggering a little when he let her go. Regaining her balance, she playfully pushed him away.

  ‘Who said you had no strength, Mr Simmonds?’

  ‘That will be Lance Corporal Simmonds to you, young lady,’ Rick laughed, pointing to the stripe on his arm, and Tilly squealed with delight, knowing he had regained his place in the British Eighth Army.

  Then, after a moment of mutual admiration, Tilly pointed to the two stripes on her own arm, saying, ‘And it’s Corporal to you, young man, so don’t come the old soldier with me.’ Then, as another burst of laughter bubbled in her throat, Tilly revelled in the look of amazement on Rick’s face.

  ‘So that means I have to salute you?’

  ‘Behave yourself,’ Tilly roared, looking up at him. ‘At a good twelve inches taller, you’d have to lean over for me to see it – especially on a railway station platform!’ However, she knew that if they were on an army base he would be her subordinate; the thought gave her a frisson of delight. But Tilly’s elation was short-lived as their train pulled into the station and Rick made a human shield of himself to allow her easy access to an empty carriage.