by Annie Groves
‘In that case, you’ve got off quite lightly, Mrs Jackson,’ Agnes said without raising her voice, not caring if Ted’s mother heard her or not now. Mrs Jackson disappeared upstairs and Agnes could hear her animated, although unclear dialogue, as she quickly gave instructions to her daughters. A short time later, the three of them came down the stairs, carrying their meagre belongings, resplendent in their second-hand hats and coats, and marching towards the front door.
‘Are you leaving us, Mrs Jackson? That’s such a shame.’ Agnes struggled to hide her glee.
‘There’s too much sky in the countryside,’ Marie called over her shoulder. ‘Anything could drop out of it!’
‘Clean out pigsties, indeed? I think not!’
Mrs Jackson and her two daughters then disappeared down the winding lane towards the train station and Agnes gave a sigh of relief. That wasn’t too painful, she thought.
Sally and Callum walked along Lime Street towards the train station in silence, each lost in thought. Callum had his head down while Sally took in the devastation around her. The buildings opposite Lewis’s had gone completely now, the little shops whose windows she had gazed longingly into as a child were no more. So much of Liverpool had changed over the last five years that she hardly recognised it.
‘Shall we go to the Futurist?’ Callum asked. ‘There’s a Robert Donat film on.’
‘Would it be The Adventures of Tartu, by any chance?’ Sally asked with a little smile. She had yet to see the brand-new thriller in which one of her favourite film stars took on the Nazis.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Callum said with a little grin. ‘I just thought we could go to see a film and then get a bite to eat.’
‘That would be nice,’ Sally said. They probably wouldn’t get to see much of the film if they sat at the back of the pictures in the darkness, and if she was honest she couldn’t wait to feel Callum’s arm around her.
The Futurist picture house on Lime Street was very upmarket, with a tiled Edwardian façade, and, as Callum bought the tickets, they headed towards the lift beside the marbled staircase, for the provision of the circle patrons. Sally was most impressed when Callum treated her to the 5/6s, the most expensive tickets in the picture house, and she marvelled at the richly decorated auditorium where the superior plasterwork was fashioned in the French Renaissance style.
‘We can go to the café-lounge before the film, if you like? It’s located on the first floor. Or would you rather wait and go somewhere else later?’
‘I don’t mind,’ Sally answered, feeling rather spoiled when Callum refused to let her pay her share and pleased when he said that they would take tea at Coopers afterwards.
‘They do a smashing roast beef,’ Callum said, smiling, and making her feel suddenly hungry and sorry now that she had refused the tea before the film. But on second thoughts, the best things in life were worth waiting for, she mused as she snuggled into the seat next to Callum, and felt his strong arms around her shoulders.
After the film, they were met on Lime Street by a downpour of torrential rain, and Sally was dismayed that she didn’t have an umbrella.
‘Here, get inside my coat,’ Callum said, removing his heavy overcoat and sheltering both of them. They were so close that Callum managed to steal another kiss and Sally, her lips tingling from his earlier kisses, could not remember ever being this happy. She had got over feelings of betraying George’s memory, but the ensuing emptiness in her heart had gnawed away for so long that she had almost come to feel as if it should be there. As she lay in bed at night, she would often burst into tears for the sheer loneliness that George’s death had forced upon her.
Why shouldn’t she have a life, she silently asked herself. Why shouldn’t she go out dancing and having fun? Why had she always been the one to show fortitude and good breeding and, above all, restraint? What bloody good had it done her?
The closeness of his body to hers as they headed towards the Adelphi Hotel for afternoon tea brought a warmth she hadn’t felt for a long time and she liked it … And all too soon they had reached their destination and he was pulling the chair out for her to sit down as a waitress in a black dress covered with a white frilled apron, and on her head a frilled white cap to match, stood at their table with a friendly smile, asking them if they would like a menu.
‘By order of the King, no less.’ Sally smiled as she read the menu, trying to break the heavy silence that had descended between them now, but before she could say anything else Callum reached for her hand.
She didn’t intend to pull her hand away as the waitress put their order on the table and the fleeting look of disappointment on Callum’s handsome face made her heart lurch.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sally said slowly, ‘I didn’t mean …’
‘I know,’ Callum, understanding as ever, smiled and once more reached for her hand. But this time she let the warmth of his fingers encircle hers.
‘There is something I want to tell you, Sally.’ He looked solemn for a moment and her heart began to beat a little harder. He was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear, she was sure.
‘There’s a girl …’ he began, and Sally felt her whole body tense. She really didn’t want to know about his former fiancée; that was the past, this was the present, but he was talking now and she didn’t have the heart to stop him.
‘I’m not talking about Sarah. I told you about her in a letter. This girl’s name was Laura … She came from Scotland, from the same place as Morag and me. We were friends when we were younger … She was a Wren … We started courting …’
Callum was silent for a long time and Sally felt her heart go out to him. She didn’t need to be psychic to know what he was about to say next: that he had fallen in love with her and she had gone off with his best friend while he was away at sea.
‘She died,’ Callum said with such finality that it took Sally’s breath away.
Sally squeezed his hand a little tighter and looked into his brilliant blue eyes, and, though neither of them spoke, their eyes said a thousand words. She knew more than anyone exactly what he had gone through, the pain and the loneliness he must have suffered.
‘When?’ was all that Sally could say, still looking deep into his eyes, only a whisper away from a tear.
‘Just after I brought Alice to you in forty-one, I came back here where we were supposed to join our ship, and, when I got back, I heard she had been crossing Church Street during an air raid … She didn’t stand a chance when—’
‘Oh, Callum, that was so awful for you! You never said – not even in your letters.’
‘I didn’t want to burden you with my troubles.’ He gave an apologetic half-smile and Sally’s heart swelled with love for him.
‘I’m not being brave,’ he said. ‘I’m just a man who knows what it is like to be defeated, and now I’m reaching down to the bottom of my soul for an extra ounce of courage to ask you if you will stay with me tonight?’
Momentarily, Sally was speechless. Watching the waitress flutter around the tables of one of the world’s most famous hotels, Sally knew she had to tell Callum everything: about George and their engagement, and, more importantly, that this wasn’t the first time she had been taken to a hotel, although the one she went to with George was nowhere near as lavish and luxuriantly furnished as this one, with its marbled steps and pillars, its silver service and wonderful food that she had not eaten since …
Well, none of that mattered now, Sally knew. She found herself shuffling nervously in the plush crimson upholstered chair while concentrating on the fading light shining through the gleaming windows. Callum would expect her to be a virgin, intact and pure, but she wasn’t. She had slept with George – but only after they had become engaged to be married. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Callum said in that deep Scottish burr that turned Sally’s insides to jelly. ‘I shouldn’t have asked; it was wrong of me to expect—’
‘No!’ Sally said quickly, curling her fingers around his. ‘No, you didn�
��t shock me, Callum. It’s I who should be saying sorry, not you.’ Sally was quiet for a moment, knowing what she was about to say would either make Callum get up and leave in disgust, or it would make them stronger. But one thing she did know: she couldn’t continue their relationship with a lie hanging over her. She had to know one way or the other – and so did he.
‘I’m not the girl you think I am, Callum,’ she began nervously. Her mouth was dry and she stopped to take a sip of water. This was the hardest thing she had done for a long time, but it had to be done. ‘I was engaged—’
‘To George, yes, I know, I met him remember.’ Callum’s voice was low and full of concern.
‘Of course you did.’ Sally gave a small mirthless laugh of relief. ‘Then you know he was a quiet, steady chap who felt things deeply and utterly. He wasn’t a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of bloke who—’
‘Sally, I know what you are trying to say,’ Callum rescued her from blurting the whole thing out, but she had to make sure he really understood.
‘We … we went on holiday,’ the last part of the confession was rushed and Sally found the white linen napkin on her knee fascinating all of a sudden.
‘Sally …’ Callum took her hand again and he held it securely before tilting his head to one side to look into her downcast eyes as if talking to an upset child. ‘Sally, I am a man of the world, you have to be in the navy, and I know you are a beautiful, kind, wonderful woman whom I love very much and who I want to spend the rest of my life with.’ He paused now and Sally looked up into his vibrant blue eyes, her heart pounding when he went on, ‘Your past is your past – let’s leave it where it belongs, behind us … And let’s look to the future now – our future.’ Then he picked up her champagne glass and handed it to her, as he said, smiling, ‘A toast to George and Laura whose sacrifice allowed us to be together.’
‘To George and Laura,’ Sally said, as tears of happiness filled her eyes. She knew she would never love anybody the special way she loved Callum.
‘I have one more thing to ask you, my darling,’ Callum said, looking deep into her eyes. ‘Will you marry me?’
Sally gasped in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting Callum to propose when she agreed to meet him in Liverpool so they could go to the cemetery together.
‘Of course I’ll marry you!’ She could hardly get the words out for the tightness in her throat as Callum got up from his side of the table and came round to get down on one knee. Opening a small silk ring box, he took out of his pocket, he offered her an exquisite platinum ring. Its main stone was a vivid sapphire surrounded by a triangle of sparkling diamonds.
‘It belonged to my mother; it’s Edwardian,’ Callum explained as he slipped the ring on her finger. ‘I will buy you a ring of your own. We can go shopping for one tomorrow.’ He sounded anxious now. ‘I’m not being a—’
‘Callum, it is beautiful. I’ll be proud to wear it always. You won’t buy me a different one. This ring is perfect.’
Callum, still on his knees, looked up into the face he so loved and then he kissed her.
TWENTY-TWO
January 1944
‘So, tell me all about your Christmas on the farm,’ said Audrey after the meeting of the WVS had ended and she and Olive were clearing up.
‘Well, there is just one little thing,’ Olive smiled, and then turning she held out her left hand and wiggled her fingers, making the diamonds of her engagement ring sparkle in the overhead light. Audrey’s face was a picture and her smile lit up the whole of her face.
‘Oh, Olive, that’s wonderful, I am so pleased for you!’ She hugged Olive and then took her hand so she could get a better look at the ring. ‘Oh, it is lovely, so beautiful, and it suits you perfectly. Not gaudy but beautifully elegant and tasteful – perfect.’
‘Thank you, Audrey, we want to keep it low-key … Well, at our age …’
What do you mean “at our age”? You’re just a girl!’
‘I would hardly call forty years old “just a girl”,’ Olive said, laughing. She had been dying to show Audrey her ring since she got back but Audrey had been tending a sick relative so their paths hadn’t crossed until today. Olive couldn’t bring herself to tell Audrey about her falling out with Tilly. It was too painful to think about and she wouldn’t even know where to start. She and Audrey were good friends, but some things were just too raw to share, reflected Olive.
‘Oh, I am thrilled for you.’ Then Audrey lowered her voice even though there were only the two of them left in the hall now. ‘What did our friend have to say about it?’
By ‘our friend’, Olive knew the vicar’s wife was referring to Nancy Black.
‘She doesn’t know yet.’ She laughed. ‘She’ll go mad when she finds out she is one of the last to know, but her daughter is staying with her and you never see Nancy when the family are around.’
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ Audrey said, and Olive wondered if it was nice that Nancy wasn’t around or nice that her family were with her. But she didn’t have time to enquire because Audrey went on to ask how Agnes was getting on and if she was managing in her rural utopia.
‘Agnes is coping really well. I never thought I’d see her so relaxed,’ said Olive, as they lifted a heavy table and put it against the far wall near the upright piano. ‘I almost didn’t want to come back to London, myself.’ Olive stretched her aching back before going to get another table.
‘It was a bit hairy back here, I must admit. We were rushed off our feet finding new places for bomb victims and sorting out the ration books – you know what I mean.’
Olive nodded, feeling a little guilty for her brief respite in the country when London was suffering such mayhem. It was as if the farm had been another world, it was so tranquil.
‘I was glad the children were safely out of the way, though,’ said Audrey. ‘I do worry about them so much.’
‘If Barney and Alice were my children,’ said Olive, ‘I’d have left them in the country. It is much safer. Dulcie has the right idea, keeping her two out there with her.’
‘Is David staying out there too?’ asked Audrey, picking up a brush and beginning to sweep.
‘He’s coming up to London during the week and going back Friday afternoon for the weekend – his business is in London so he has no choice.’
‘I see,’ said Audrey, ‘and if these raids get any worse, we will have to arrange even more evacuations of children who are still in Holborn.’
‘I can understand the mothers’ fears,’ said Olive, thinking of Tilly, ‘and it is so sad to see the little ones going alone, terrified, not knowing when they are going to see their mums again.’
‘I know,’ said Audrey, ‘but it is for the best and we have to do our bit without the worry of children getting hurt or killed too.’
‘You’re right, of course,’ Olive rubbed her back, which had been aching all day, ‘but it doesn’t matter how old your children are, putting them on a train and not knowing when you are going to see them again always leaves you feeling miserable.’
A short while later, they had finished tidying up and turned off the lights, then Audrey took a huge bunch of keys and locked the church-hall door.
‘Mind you don’t fall and hurt yourself on the ice,’ Audrey said, holding out her arm for Olive. The weather had turned very wintry, with icy patches all over, but as yet it still had not snowed, much to Barney’s irritation.
‘It will only add to the other parts that ache so much these days.’ Olive laughed. She had made an appointment to go to see her doctor that evening; she had been feeling quite unwell since Christmas. However, she didn’t tell anybody; people had enough to worry about without concerning themselves over her.
‘I was wondering if you fancied going to the pictures tonight, Olive,’ Archie said when he came in to let Barney know he was home from the station. Olive, laying the table for dinner, smiled as he leaned over Alice’s head and gave her a quick peck on the cheek when she knew she would rather be wrapped i
n his arms. Their country break had been wonderful but there was always someone present and they hadn’t spent any time alone for ages. Going to the pictures was Archie’s way of getting her on her own – albeit in a crowded picture house – but at least he could put his arm around her without feeling awkward in front of the kids.
‘I have an appointment, which I can’t cancel, I’m afraid,’ said Olive, thinking it would have been nice to relax. There was a Leslie Howard picture on that she would quite like to see called The Gentle Sex, about seven women from different backgrounds who join the ATS; although that made Olive guiltily recall her and Tilly’s row in Surrey. She still hadn’t heard from Tilly since she had stormed out and she was terribly worried about her.
‘I thought you needed cheering up a bit,’ said Archie, tenderly. ‘You’ve looked quite frail since we got back from Surrey. I wondered if you want to go and see the film of It’s That Man Again. I know how much you like Tommy Handley.’
‘You’re right, Archie, I could do with a good laugh, but maybe tomorrow night,’ Olive smiled, and Archie agreed.
‘Do you want me to come with you to your appointment? After the last lot of raids there’s a lot of ice-covered rubble that could be dangerous.’
‘More dangerous than going into burning buildings and dragging out blast victims?’ Olive said, knowing that is exactly what Archie did the night before. ‘Maybe it will be better if you stay here. Sally won’t be home until seven and my appointment is six thirty.’
‘I don’t mind looking after Alice for half an hour, Aunt Olive,’ said Barney, who was now helping Alice into her high chair at the table.
‘I think someone’s throwing a hint they’re hungry,’ Olive said, heading for the kitchen.
‘I’d prefer it if you let me come with you, Olive. I worry about you when you are in the blackout alone,’ Archie said, following her. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her to him as Olive felt the now familiar delight sensuously meander through her body. Neither of them even heard Barney coming into the kitchen until he self-consciously cleared his throat.