by Ellie Dean
Ron wondered if all the jeering, backbiting and jostling for position around the fire was because the soldiers saw their future in those old men, and the Home Guard were reminded of their youthful past, and none of them liked what they saw.
He finished drying the glasses and mopped up the spills from the counter as the factory girls clustered close to the wireless to listen to the first of the war reports that would now be broadcast every day to keep the people at home informed of progress. The bulletin tonight was a long one, he noted, glancing up at the clock above the bar. It was a quarter to ten, and Joseph Macleod was still introducing recorded messages from correspondents who were with the Allied armies in France.
Ron had just finished serving a round of drinks to his old friends in the Home Guard when he saw Dolly coming through the door. He grinned at her in surprise and delight. ‘Well, to be sure, ’tis honoured I am that you’ve come to visit. What can I get you?’
‘A very large gin if you’ve got any,’ she said, settling on the high stool by the till where she had a good view of everyone in the bar. ‘And have one yourself, Ron. I expect you’ve earned it tonight.’
Ron regarded her keenly as he poured the gin into glasses and opened a bottle of tonic water. ‘You look upset,’ he murmured. ‘It’s not Danuta, is it? She hasn’t taken a turn for the worse?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ Dolly said quickly. ‘When I left she was sleeping peacefully, happy in the knowledge that Rome has been liberated and our armies are slowly advancing into France. I’m just tired after a rather fraught exchange of views with my daughter.’
She poured some of the tonic water over the gin, raised her glass in a silent toast and drank half of it down. ‘That’s better,’ she sighed, her gaze once more trawling the knot of women who were by the wireless.
‘Are you looking for someone?’ Ron asked.
She smiled and shook her head. ‘I just enjoy watching people,’ she replied smoothly. ‘How are you doing, Ron? Still no word from Rosie?’
‘Not a peep,’ he replied with a frown. ‘I simply can’t understand it, Dolly. She’s never ignored me like this before.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Perhaps she’s teaching me a lesson on what it feels like to be taken for granted, and to be sure, ’tis to my sorrow that I fully deserve it. I’ve made meself a promise that I’ll change me ways once and for all, Dolly. Rosie deserves better than what I’ve given her over the years.’
‘Try to keep that promise, Ron, but don’t be too harsh on yourself,’ Dolly soothed. ‘I’m sure she’ll be back soon, and you can sort things out between you then.’
‘Aye, I hope so,’ he said mournfully.
Dolly made a concerted effort to cheer him up. ‘By the way, I popped in to see Stan earlier. He’s looking very well now he’s lost all that weight, but it seems that this new wife of his is a bit of a hard taskmaster.’ She giggled. ‘You should have seen his face when I caught him eating a forbidden biscuit. He thought I was Ethel spying on him.’
‘Aye, he likes to have a treat now and then, but it does him no harm, Dolly. He’s sensible enough to know he can’t risk getting so out of shape again.’
He went to help Brenda with a large round of drinks for the factory girls, and while he was serving, he watched Dolly chatting to one of the girls and wondered what her real reason was for coming in tonight. She did look tired, but there was an alertness in her, as if she was waiting for something – or someone.
‘Would you be after another of those?’ he asked her, noting her glass was empty.
‘I’d love one, but I have to drive back to Tamarisk Bay. It’s bad enough during the day, but with hooded headlights it’s positively hair-raising.’
‘Then why don’t you come back and spend the night at Beach View? There’s an empty room, and I don’t like the thought of you driving over there in the dark.’
‘Bless you, Ron,’ she said, affectionately patting his cheek. ‘I’ve driven in far worse conditions, and I have things to do very early tomorrow.’ She must have read the question in his eyes, for she grinned. ‘Curiosity killed the cat, Ron.’
‘Satisfaction brought it back,’ he replied, wriggling his eyebrows.
Dolly laughed. ‘I’m sure it does, but patience is a virtue, Ron. Goodnight.’ She blew him a kiss, slid from the stool and was gone before he could think of a suitable answer.
‘Women,’ he muttered. ‘Why do they always have to talk in riddles?’
Brenda broke into his thoughts. ‘Have you put that order in to the brewery, Ron? Only we’re very low on everything, and the bitter’s almost run out.’
Ron gasped in horror. He’d sensed all day that he’d forgotten something important. ‘I’ll phone the order through first thing tomorrow.’
‘I’ve made a list so you don’t forget anything,’ Brenda said, sliding the slip of paper towards him. ‘Make sure you do it before nine o’clock, Ron, because without beer, we can’t open the pub.’
Ron swore under his breath and took the slip of paper into the back hallway and pinned it firmly on the board above the telephone. As if he didn’t have enough on his mind, he’d now have to face that smarmy drayman, Leg-Over, who thought he was God’s gift to women and constantly tried to make a play for Rosie. No doubt he’d heard about Rosie’s defection and would make a point of remarking upon it – thereby tempting Ron to violence.
But no matter how much he loathed the man, he knew he’d have to show some restraint. Keeping in with Leg-Over, who was the brewery owner’s nephew, meant keeping the brewery sweet. Falling out with either of them could see Rosie losing the business she’d spent so many years building up – and that would definitely see the end of any hopes he harboured for reconciliation.
Dolly pushed the note to Peggy through the letter box and then headed back to Tamarisk Bay. It was pitch black, and the noise of the aircraft was a constant presence as she steered the car out of Cliffehaven and along the narrow country lane which led past the Cliffe estate and eventually circumnavigated the airfield before heading east to the next big town.
She sat forward to peer out of the windscreen, gripping the steering wheel as she slowly followed the meandering track up the hill, the pale, hooded headlights barely picking out the lumps of chalk and flint scattered across it. Feeling tired and tense, she breathed a sigh of relief when she finally saw the two large white-painted boulders Frank had placed on either side of the steep slope which led down to the isolated bay.
Dolly decided to leave the car at the top of the track, and once she’d switched off the engine, she climbed out, took a deep breath of the cold air and eased the tension in her shoulders. The sound of a latch clicking home made her instantly alert, and she spun round, expecting to see Pauline, armed with grievance and ready for another argument.
‘Oh, Frank,’ she breathed in relief as the giant figure approached. ‘What are you doing out here at this time of night?’
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he replied. ‘So when I heard the car, I thought I’d come out to make sure you got down the track safely in those daft shoes.’
‘Bless you, Frank. How kind you are,’ she said, wishing her daughter could see how very lucky she was to have him. ‘I never seem to have the right footwear when I come down here,’ she said, glancing ruefully at the high-heeled pumps.
Frank grinned despite the weariness and worry that was etched into his face. ‘You wouldn’t be Dolly without your high heels and furs.’ He offered her his arm and they slowly made their way down the treacherous slope of earth and shale.
When they reached the bottom, Dolly stilled him. ‘I’m doing no good here, Frank,’ she said. ‘So I think it’s best if I leave tomorrow and let you and Pauline work things out in private.’
She saw he was about to protest and forestalled him. ‘My presence here is making things worse. We both know it. And although I’m sorry to run out on you, I really do think things will improve once I’m gone.’
‘She’s finding it hard to take everything
in,’ said Frank, staring out to sea where flashes of gunfire and the flames of burning buildings could be seen on the horizon. ‘And with Brendon out there somewhere …’
‘I do understand,’ she consoled. ‘My revelations about Felix and Carol couldn’t have come at a worse time, and I feel horribly guilty.’
He put his great arm about her shoulders to hold her to his side. ‘There’s nothing to feel guilty about, Dolly. I’ve learnt since losing Seamus and Joseph that life is too precious to waste in regrets – that we must live it to the full and grab those moments of happiness while we can. I’m glad you and Felix have found one another again. You deserve to be cherished, Dolly, because you are one very special lady.’
‘Oh, Frank,’ she breathed, close to tears. ‘I never realised how eloquent you could be.’ She looked up at him and smiled affectionately. ‘You’re very much your father’s son, which is probably why I regard you so highly. But if we stand out here for much longer, I’ll freeze to death,’ she added, to take the solemnity out of the moment.
Frank grinned and led the way to the front door. ‘Perhaps if you wore that mink instead of carrying it over your arm, you’d get the benefit of it,’ he teased. ‘Come away in and warm up with a tot of the brandy I’ve been keeping for a special occasion. It’s a fitting drink to wish you well, and raise a toast to the boys out there.’
18
Ron had left the house early because he wanted to get up to the Memorial to see Danuta before he had to return to the Anchor to telephone in the order to the brewery before nine.
He knew he would be pushed for time, so was setting a fast pace when he suddenly heard a plaintive mewling and realised that Queenie had chosen today of all days to follow him up here. Stifling his irritation, he stopped and looked back.
The cat was several hundred yards away, yowling pathetically as Harvey nudged her encouragingly with his nose, to no avail.
Ron grunted as Harvey ran up to him and then raced back to Queenie. ‘Lord preserve me from blasted animals,’ he grumbled, stomping back down the hill. ‘They eat you out of house and home, the cat thinks she’s a dog, the dog thinks he’s human – and neither of them listen to a ruddy word I say.’
Queenie had put on a fair bit of weight since the previous summer, and it was becoming a strain on her three working legs to walk very far, so when she struggled heroically to get to Ron, his irritation with her fled.
‘Ach, ye daft wee thing,’ he crooned, scooping her up and letting her snuggle against him for a while so she could get her breath back. Her little heart was pounding, her ears lay flat against her head as she panted, and her claws dug into his neck as yet another squadron of planes hammered overhead.
He tried to soothe her by stroking her fur, but she was as tense as steel, and he was worried that if one more thing spooked her, she’d be off and he’d never find her. ‘To be sure me pocket is the best place for you,’ he murmured, gently unhooking her claws and tucking her away into the deepest recess of his poaching coat.
He felt her squirming against his thigh before she finally settled down, and once he was sure she felt safe, he resumed the long walk to the hospital at a rapid pace.
Leaving Harvey outside to partake of cooked breakfast and anything else the patients wanted to give him, he quickly made his way to Danuta’s room. Opening the door, he was confronted by the unwelcome sight of Matron Billings.
‘Morning,’ he said cheerfully, praying that Queenie didn’t stir or start mewling again.
‘Good morning, Mr Reilly,’ she replied, with little pleasure or warmth. She closed the folder of medical notes she’d been reading. ‘The patient is responding nicely to her new medication, but her temperature is a little high, so I don’t want you cluttering up the place for too long.’
She glared at him over her spectacles. ‘There has been far too much coming and going of late. My patient needs rest and quiet – and I doubt you are the person to provide either.’
‘To be sure, Matron, I’ll not be stopping for long,’ he assured her with a twinkling smile in the hope it might thaw her out a bit.
‘I shall make sure of it, Mr Reilly,’ she replied icily before sweeping out of the room.
‘Poor Ron,’ murmured Danuta. ‘I think that woman does not like you.’
‘Believe me, darlin’, the feeling’s quite mutual,’ he replied, perching on the chair by the bed. ‘Don’t worry your wee head about that old trout.’ He took her small bandaged hand and held it gently. ‘How are you this fine morning?’
‘A bit hot and uncomfortable,’ she admitted, ‘but I am always better when I see you.’
‘’Tis with regret that I’ll not be able to stay long this morning,’ he replied, taking note of the rather worrying high colour in her cheeks, and the brightness of fever in her eyes. ‘I have things to do at the Anchor.’
‘It is lovely that you come,’ she replied softly. ‘I do know how difficult it is for you and Mama Peggy to make the journey each day when you are both so busy.’ She shot him a sad, sweet smile. ‘I am looking forward to meeting Daisy, although it will remind me of my sweet Katarzyna. Do you still tend her grave for me, Ron?’
‘Of course. I go every week or two to tidy up. I planted spring bulbs for her, and the sexton – the man who looks after the church and the graveyard – has planted a pure white rose by her headstone.’ He saw the tears gathering in her eyes and enfolded both her hands in his. ‘I’ll take you there so you can see for yourself when you’re well again.’
Danuta closed her eyes and a teardrop glistened on her lashes. ‘You are so kind,’ she whispered.
Ron wanted desperately to change the subject and bring a smile back to her wan little face. ‘I hear Fran popped in yesterday, and that Cordelia will be coming in this afternoon.’
‘Fran told me all about her Robert,’ Danuta replied, a smile tweaking at her lips. ‘I think there will soon be a wedding.’ She winced and clutched her side as she moved against the pillows. ‘It’s just the stitches,’ she explained. ‘They are pulling when I move.’
‘Then keep still, wee girl, or ask me to help shift the pillows so you can be comfortable.’
Danuta grinned, reminding Ron suddenly of the young girl who’d taken such delight in driving the ambulances during her stay at Beach View, and using her knowledge as a theatre nurse back in Poland to boss the first-aiders about when she saw they were making a mess of things.
‘It is good to know Babunia has a friend to take her out,’ she said. ‘I am to meet Bertie this afternoon. She sounded very well on the telephone – just the same as I remember.’
Ron grinned. ‘She doesn’t change much, although she can get very grumpy in the mornings, and her hearing’s getting worse.’
‘I will remember to tell her to switch on her hearing aid – like before when I live with you.’ Danuta gave a deep sigh and momentarily closed her eyes. ‘I have missed you all so much. I hope Beach View has not changed.’
‘It’s a wee bit older and shabbier, but the walls are still standing and it’s much the same. The heart of the home is still Peggy’s kitchen, and before long you’ll be sitting there with Harvey at your knee while you chatter away with Fran and Cordelia and the girls. It’ll feel as if you’ve never been away.’
There were shadows in her green eyes as she looked at him, and her smile was wan. ‘I have lived many lifetimes since I last sat in Peggy’s kitchen,’ she said wistfully. ‘I wish that I was there now.’
‘Well, you’d better hurry up and get better,’ he said gruffly. ‘The sooner you’re out of this bed, the sooner you can come home.’
‘Is Harvey still outside?’
Ron nodded. ‘Aye, and it’s more than my life’s worth to let him in here. Matron would have me head from me shoulders, so she would.’
Danuta giggled and it warmed Ron’s soft old heart. ‘I tell you what, though,’ he said, reaching into his coat pocket. ‘I do have someone you’ve yet to meet.’ He drew a sleepy and subdued Quee
nie from his pocket.
‘Oh, she is beautiful,’ gasped Danuta as he gently placed the cat beside her. ‘Poor little one has a bad leg – like me. What is her name?’
‘We call her Queenie, because she rules the house and even has Harvey do her bidding.’ Ron watched the cat stretch and begin to purr beneath Danuta’s gentle hand, and before either of them could stop her, she’d wriggled beneath the blankets and was curling up to sleep in the crook of Danuta’s arm.
They both heard Matron’s voice outside in the corridor and Ron quickly retrieved the cat from the bed and stuffed her unceremoniously back into his coat pocket.
Queenie was having none of it, and she hissed and howled and fought to claw her way out.
Ron pulled the coat as tightly as he could over his chest to keep her in, and turned his back on Matron as she crashed unceremoniously into the room.
‘What’s going on in here?’ she demanded.
‘Nothing,’ said Ron, hastily backing away while he fought to contain a hissing, spitting, clawing Queenie in his pocket.
‘What’s that? What have you got in your pocket?’ the woman snapped.
‘To be sure ’tis nothing,’ he stammered, backing away as Matron advanced.
In two strides she had him cornered and whipped back his coat.
A ball of black fur and fury shot out, used Matron’s large bosom as a springboard, and flew round the room like a whirling dervish.
‘Get that cat out of here at once!’ stormed Matron, slamming the door shut and barring Ron’s escape.
Queenie shot up the curtains and hung there for a moment before performing a circle of death around the walls and then leaping across the bed to use the few pieces of furniture to get about the room without touching the floor.
Danuta was in tears of laughter and pain as she clasped her stomach. ‘My stitches,’ she gasped. ‘Oh, it hurts, but it’s so funny.’
Herding cats was not Ron’s idea of fun and he was having a déjà vu moment as he chased Queenie round the room. This was all too reminiscent of what had happened with the ferrets in the Crown – and no laughing matter.