With a Kiss and a Prayer (The Cliffehaven Series)

by Ellie Dean

  ‘It looks like they’re expecting more to come over. That’s the eighth new gun I’ve seen up here, and there’s talk of having hundreds of barrage balloons erected along the seafront and over the factory estate.’

  ‘I reckon Hitler’s trying to get his own back because of our successful invasion,’ said Frank. ‘This new weapon feels to me like a last-ditch attempt to stop us getting any further into Europe.’

  ‘That won’t happen, whatever he throws at us,’ said Ron. ‘We’ve got Gerry on the run all along the Italian Front; we’ve taken Pescara and San Stefano, and are in command of over fifty miles of the Normandy coast.’

  ‘It’s good news for us all round, isn’t it?’ said Frank. ‘The Russians have finally launched an offensive on Leningrad, and the Japs are still retreating from Kohima. If this keeps up, we’ll soon see the back of Hitler and have our Brendon and Jim home.’

  Ron grunted, unwilling to point out that there would be many more battles and lives lost before anyone could expect real peace, and although the Superfortresses had begun to bomb industrial targets in Japan, the war in the Far East was far from over.

  ‘Da?’ Frank’s voice broke into his thoughts. ‘Da, do you think it would be all right if I asked you and Peggy over for a cup of tea tomorrow? Only Pauline’s regretting what she said to Peggy last week and wants to make things up with her – and although she’d kill me for saying this, she’s too embarrassed to make the first move.’

  ‘I’m glad she wants to smooth things over, but tomorrow isn’t a good day. We have the delightful Doris coming for afternoon tea.’

  Frank grimaced. ‘That wouldn’t do at all. Pauline and Doris fell out, and Pauline can’t stand the sight of her.’

  ‘She’s not the only one,’ said Ron, tapping the dottle from his pipe and getting to his feet. ‘I plan to make myself scarce while she’s there, and spend the afternoon getting the Anchor all shipshape for when Rosie gets back.’

  He shoved the pipe in his pocket. ‘But I’ve got a better idea. Peggy’s planning a picnic in the recreation ground this afternoon as long as this weather holds, so you could meet us there after Pauline’s been to the hairdresser.’

  ‘That sounds a splendid idea,’ said Frank, looking much relieved. ‘I’ll get some bottles of beer and have a rummage through the cupboards to see what else I can bring.’

  Ron embraced his son, revelling in the size and strength of him, and wishing wholeheartedly that he could hold his Jim like this. ‘To be sure I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. But I promised to drop in to see Stan before I open up the pub.’

  ‘I’ll see you later then.’ Frank almost squeezed the life out of his father in a bear hug and gave Harvey a hefty pat then went off with a cheery whistle down the track to Tamarisk Bay.

  Peggy didn’t know how to feel when Ron told her Pauline and Frank were coming to the picnic, but as long as Pauline behaved herself, she supposed it was better to patch things up rather than leave them as they were.

  She’d done an hour at the Red Cross earlier this morning and was feeling quite excited by the idea of a picnic, but kept looking out at the sky, praying the weather wouldn’t change as she and Cordelia spread margarine on bread and sliced corned beef and Spam as thinly as possible to put in sandwiches.

  ‘The forecast said it would be fine today,’ said Cordelia, ‘so there’s no need to keep looking out there.’ She was now slicing tomatoes, the sharp knife getting dangerously close to her fingers.

  ‘Let me do that,’ said Peggy, quickly easing the knife from her. ‘I need you to organise the picnic basket and help Sarah make sure we have enough blankets and chairs to sit on.’

  Cordelia raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing as Ivy dashed into the kitchen holding up a paper bag in triumph. ‘Look what Alf the butcher sneaked me from under the counter. Sausages! Proper bangers!’

  Peggy gasped with pleasure as she viewed the string of eight fat, glistening sausages. ‘Fry them slowly on a low heat so they don’t burn on the outside and stay raw in the middle – and remember to prick them first. We don’t want them bursting,’ she warned Ivy, who was a bit inclined to fry everything on a very high heat and as quickly as possible. ‘We can eat them cold with the salad I picked from the garden.’

  Peggy started to worry they wouldn’t have enough food, for not only did she have the residents of Beach View to feed, but Ivy’s Andy, Fran’s Robert, Kitty and Charlotte as well – and now Frank and Pauline. And how on earth was she going to get everything and everyone down to the recreation ground? There was the picnic basket and table, the blankets, deckchairs, bottles of beer and lemonade, the primus stove and kettle so she could make tea, and that was without taking extra coats and umbrellas in case it rained. Cordelia would find it a trial to walk all that way, but as there was no other solution they’d just have to take it slowly.

  ‘John Hicks said Andy could borrow the fire station van,’ said Rita, somehow reading Peggy’s mind. ‘He’s also donating two packets of custard creams a grateful lady gave him after we’d put out her chimney fire.’ She grinned impishly. ‘And if Pete can wangle an hour off from his flying duties, he’s promised to bring cake and ginger beer.’

  ‘I didn’t realise he’d been in touch again,’ said Peggy carefully.

  ‘He popped into the fire station yesterday, just for a chat,’ Rita replied, rather too nonchalantly. ‘And to show me the motorbike he’s bought. It needs a bit of work, but it’s going well enough for getting about on short trips.’

  Peggy saw the brightness in her eyes and the colour in her elfin face and gave her a hug. ‘That’s nice, dear,’ she said, glad the girl was more cheerful and relieved that young Peter was proving to be a stalwart friend. ‘Let’s hope he can get away so he can show it off to the rest of us. But please promise me you won’t give me another heart attack by going for a ride on it.’

  Rita grinned. ‘I’ve already had one,’ she admitted. ‘But I promise to behave this afternoon.’

  Peggy’s heart was full as she revelled in the bustle going on around her, and the knowledge that in a few short days, Danuta could very well be a part of it again. She couldn’t wait to collect her girl from the Memorial, wrap her in her arms and bring her back to Beach View to convalesce.

  Andy brought the van promptly at one and they spent some time loading it up. Peggy decided at the last minute that it might be a good idea to bring Daisy’s pushchair, so if she got tired, she’d have something to take a doze in.

  Andy helped Cordelia up into the cab while Peggy squashed in beside her with Daisy on her lap. Ivy, Rita, Sarah and Fran piled into the back with all the things that Peggy considered would cover any and every eventuality.

  Andy slammed the back door and climbed in behind the wheel. ‘Are we all ready for a picnic?’

  ‘Yes,’ they yelled back.

  ‘Hold tight then and give us a song to help us along the way.’

  There was some chattering in the back and then the girls began to sing ‘Little Brown Jug’. Cordelia and Peggy joined in with great enthusiasm and Daisy clapped her hands as she sang her own version.

  They arrived at the recreation ground to find Charlotte, Kitty and Robert waiting for them with their own picnic basket. The back doors were opened, everyone was helped out, and within minutes there was a long, happy line of people heading across the abandoned football pitch, each carrying something.

  Blankets and chairs were placed near the trees, far enough from the children’s playground that they wouldn’t be pestered by sand flying from the sand pit, but near enough for Daisy to enjoy herself. Picnic baskets were opened and Kitty’s revealed cheese sandwiches, a collection of savoury biscuits, a bottle of milk, some very thin slices of ham and jars of homemade piccalilli and pickled beetroot.

  ‘As Charlotte and I get extra rations of cheese and milk, we thought we’d share it. We also saved up some coupons for the ham, and Doris’s Ted gave us a couple of slices more as a treat.’

  Everyo
ne applauded, and then gasped as Robert produced a bottle of gin, some tonic water and a large packet of chocolate biscuits. ‘My mother sent the biscuits,’ he said shyly.

  ‘Oh, but that was lovely of her,’ said Peggy, her mouth watering at the thought of real chocolate.

  Andy hefted over a crate of beer. ‘A gift from Aunt Gloria,’ he explained, digging in his pocket for the bottle opener. ‘She said that if the Crown was quiet, she might pop over later with some scones she baked this morning.’

  Peggy liked Gloria, for although she was bold and brassy, she had a heart of gold, but as Ron was joining them later, it could be a bit awkward. His current predicament with Rosie had spiralled from his last visit to the Crown, and while no one could have foreseen the seismic consequences of that day, they were now unavoidable. Rosie’s reason for leaving Cliffehaven might now have been explained, but her feelings towards Ron and Major Radwell were still a mystery.

  Beers, gin and tonics and sandwiches were handed out. Daisy sat contentedly gnawing on half a sausage and Cordelia was fussing over Charlotte and Kitty, who looked as if they were about to have those babies any minute.

  Peggy sipped the lovely gin and lifted her face to the sun as the talk went on around her. It had been too long since they’d been able to do this, and she hoped that the weather would continue to be nice throughout the summer, for it did the heart good to be outside, surrounded by the people she loved.

  The burble and pop of a badly tuned motorbike broke the peace and they all turned to watch Peter Ryan ride across the field towards them. ‘G’day,’ he said cheerfully, unwinding his length from the heavy motorbike.

  Rita introduced Robert, Charlotte and Kitty, and having grinned in delight at them all, he dug into the panier on the back of the bike and lifted out a large tin. ‘With the compliments of the AAF,’ he said, taking off the lid and placing the tin in the middle of the rug.

  There were oohs and aahs and little squeaks of pleasure as they saw the plump Victoria sponge that was filled with cream and jam and dusted with icing sugar.

  Pete winked at Peggy. ‘Florrie in the canteen at Cliffe is a bit partial to an Aussie accent,’ he explained. ‘Besides that, she’s a ripper cook. That’s a bonzer cake, isn’t it?’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ said Rita, digging him in the ribs. ‘Stop talking and get cutting.’

  Peggy noted the easy interaction between them and her misgivings fled. Peter Ryan was a lovely young man who’d clearly brought a new light into Rita’s life, and Peggy couldn’t deny that her romantic heart was warmed by the thought. What would be, would be, she thought dreamily.

  The cake proved to be delicious, but as tempting as it was, they thoughtfully left enough for Frank, Pauline and Ron, who turned up an hour later with Harvey.

  ‘Come and sit by me, Pauline,’ said Peggy, noting that the other woman was looking rather hesitant at joining the party. ‘Your hair looks nice. Have you just had it done?’

  The ice slowly melted between them and eventually Pauline surprised Peggy by actually apologising for her outburst the other day. As the chatter once more rose in volume, Harvey patiently sat begging at each of them in turn for more food, and Daisy fell asleep in her pushchair, Peggy knew that harmony was restored and everything would be all right.

  She lay back on the blanket, shielded her eyes against the sun and gazed up at the clear blue sky thinking how wonderful it was that in this moment it didn’t feel as if they were at war. It was like the old days, although the picnic would have been on the beach back then, and music would have been coming from the bandstand as they ate ice cream and hot chips smothered in salt and vinegar.

  She let her eyelids droop, drowsy from gin and the sun and good rich food, delighting in the song of the skylarks and only vaguely aware of the buzz of a distant engine that must be a plane flying very high, and therefore not from Cliffe.

  ‘Strewth!’ shouted Peter, leaping to his feet. ‘Everybody take cover. Now!’

  Startled out of their stupor, they all looked at him in confusion. ‘It’s just a plane,’ said Rita.

  ‘That’s no flaming plane,’ Peter shouted. ‘It’s a V-1. And it’s heading this way.’ He hauled Rita to her feet, grabbed Daisy’s pushchair and shoved it under the trees, startling the toddler awake and making her cry.

  The other men were galvanised into action. Cordelia and the two pregnant girls were unceremoniously plucked from their chairs and carried into the bushes under the trees, where they ended up knee-deep in a weed-choked, hidden ditch.

  Peggy snatched Daisy out of the pushchair and joined them, while Sarah and Ivy raced to help the mothers of the small children playing nearby get them out of the open.

  They all huddled there, eyes turned skyward as children cried and Harvey whined in confusion. They could hear the buzzing of the engine more clearly now, and see the large, pilotless plane coming nearer and nearer – untouched by the barrage of gunfire that was coming from the top of the cliffs and the nearby hill at the end of Havelock Road.

  ‘It’ll be all right as long as that engine keeps going,’ said Peter, one arm around Rita, the other round Cordelia. ‘It’s when it stops we could be in trouble.’

  Peggy watched, her heart beating so painfully she could scarcely breathe as she held Daisy and prayed for this awful thing to fly over them and land somewhere it would do no harm.

  And then the engine cut out.

  Frozen in fear, they watched the thing tip towards the earth, gaining speed as it silently dropped like a stone behind the trees in Havelock Gardens.

  ‘Down! Get down,’ shouted Ron, grabbing Harvey to his chest and throwing them both to the ground.

  The explosion rocked the ground and sent shock waves through them all. The wind of it blasted through the trees, shedding them of leaves and breaking branches, the sound reverberating endlessly in their heads as more explosions followed and lethal debris was flung into the air to rain down all around them.

  Peggy shielded Daisy with her body and tried to burrow deeper into the hedge as the child screamed in terror and those around her scrambled to find better shelter.

  The terrible explosions finally stopped. The deadly rain of rubble and uprooted trees petered out. And in the terrible silence that followed, Peggy dared to look out from her hiding place.

  A great pall of black smoke was rising beyond Havelock Gardens and spreading like a giant mushroom into the clear blue sky. ‘Oh, dear God,’ Peggy breathed. ‘That’s Havelock Road.’

  She grabbed Ron’s jacket sleeve. ‘It exploded in Havelock Road,’ she yelled, her head still ringing and her ears numbed from the explosion. ‘I’ve got to find Doris.’

  ‘You’ll be doing no such thing,’ he said, releasing her grip on him and helping her out of the ditch as Andy and Peter raced across the field on the motorbike to get the services out. ‘The fire brigade will be here in a minute. Harvey and I will go to see if Doris is all right.’

  Peggy tried to soothe Daisy, but she was too distraught herself, so Pauline took charge of the child with great calm and soon had her tears dried and her fears allayed by a chocolate biscuit.

  Cordelia was trembling with fear and cold, the muddy water from the ditch dripping from her lightweight coat as Frank gently sat her in one of the deckchairs and wrapped her in a picnic blanket. Charlotte and Kitty were soaked to their thighs, and clearly shaken, but their experiences of flying with the ATA stood them in good stead, and they calmly went to help the mothers of the little ones who’d so recently been playing happily on the swings.

  Peggy took it all in as if she was watching it happen from a great distance. ‘I must go and see what’s happened,’ she said fretfully. ‘I can’t just stand about here when my sister could be …’ Unable to complete the sentence, she broke free from Frank’s staying hand and began to run.

  The urgent clanging of the fire engines’ bells got louder as they approached from Camden Road. A convoy of Civil Defence trucks followed with an ambulance
not far behind it. People were pouring out of the houses and shops to stand and stare, while nurses ran from the hospital and members of the Home Guard collected nearby.

  Peggy took it all in as she chased after Ron and Robert, who were now running towards that awful cloud of black smoke.

  She’d lost her shoes in the ditch, but she barely noticed as she ran headlong out of the recreation ground and swerved to go down the hill and into Havelock Road as the three fire engines hammered ahead of her, their bells ringing, the firemen clinging onto their sides.

  She could see the smoke more clearly now. It was rising from the end of the cul-de-sac where the hill swept down to the beach, and there were flames rising with it – terrible flames that burnt bright red and orange. But something was wrong with what she was seeing, and as she chased after the fire engines and trucks, she realised with horror what it was. The huge gun was no longer there.

  Peggy collided with Ron and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her. But she had eyes only for the inferno before her – the swirling black smoke and the great swords of flame that pierced through it, devouring what was left of the two end houses.

  The shattered remains of the anti-aircraft gun could be seen lying at the core of the house next to Doris’s, the corpses of the men who’d manned it flung like stringless marionettes into the vegetable patch that had once been the quiet little park.

  Trees had been uprooted and lay leafless in the road as the hungry flames ran in rivers to feast on them. Garden walls had been obliterated, drainpipes torn from their tethers and twisted out of shape – and everywhere was the glitter and twinkle of broken glass.

  ‘Doris is in there,’ she yelled to John Hicks, the fire chief. ‘She’s got twenty guests for lunch, and there are two evacuees as well. You’ve got to get them out!’