by Lily Baxter
‘Blimey,’ Rita said softly. ‘That was quite a show. Whatever next?’
Miranda shook her head. ‘I can’t imagine that Granny will give in easily, but Jack’s right. It’s ridiculous to bear grudges for such a long time.’
Rita opened the front door. ‘Tommy, I know you’re there. Come in now. They won’t bite.’
He came slowly up the steps and Miranda could not help feeling sorry for him. Tommy might be brash and seemingly full of confidence but she could see that he was feeling uncomfortable and out of his depth. ‘It was good of you to come. I know this isn’t your sort of thing, Tommy.’
‘It’s nothing.’ He slipped his arm around Rita’s waist. ‘Come on, love. We’ll show ’em.’
Miranda followed them into the drawing room prepared to do her duty, but dreading it all the same. She could only hope that her grandmother would concentrate on her friends and leave Jack and Izzie to enjoy themselves as best they could, although she could feel the atmosphere the moment she walked into the room. She left Rita and Tommy to their own devices while she paid attention to Isabel, who was temporarily abandoned while Jack went to fetch their drinks. She summoned up a smile. ‘It was brave of you to come tonight, Izzie.’
‘I think I might owe you an apology,’ Isabel said, blushing. ‘I know it was a long time ago, but I was a bit tiddley that night. I’m afraid I might have been quite rude to you, although I can’t remember a thing. Raif was frightfully cross with me, and I’m sure I deserved it.’
‘Can’t we forget all that?’ Miranda glanced round anxiously, hoping that her grandmother was not within earshot. ‘It was ages ago, and it really doesn’t matter.’
‘Thank you,’ Isabel said, smiling. ‘I always liked you, Miranda.’
‘What does Raif say about you getting engaged to my uncle?’
Isabel’s smile faded and she shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know about it yet, and anyway it’s not up to him, but I’m worried about how my parents will react. I haven’t told them that Jack and I have been seeing each other.’
‘It’s the Montagues and the Capulets all over again,’ Miranda said with a wry smile.
‘Except that I’m not thirteen. I’ll be twenty-one in May and then I can do as I please. My family won’t have a say in the matter.’
‘Good for you.’
‘At least the war has made me stand on my own two feet. I’ve got a job in the torpedo factory. My parents were absolutely horrified, but I didn’t really have a lot of choice. I had to sign up for something and I actually quite enjoy what I’m doing.’
‘That must have taken a lot of courage, Izzie.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Not really. I’m a terrible coward and Jack is so fearless.’ Isabel glanced at her fiancé who was making his way towards them with a glass of wine in each hand. ‘He’s so wonderful and I’m such a lucky girl.’
Miranda was trying to think of something suitable to say when the sound of the air raid siren reverberated around the room bringing conversation to a sudden halt.
‘There’s room in the shelter for the ladies,’ George announced in a loud voice. ‘Unfortunately there won’t be enough space for everyone, but let’s get the ladies to safety and worry about ourselves afterwards. I’ll switch off the lights if my wife will open the French windows and lead the way.’
There was a sudden hush when the lights went out, and for a moment no one moved. Miranda grabbed Isabel by the hand and led her towards the blast of cold air whistling in through the open doors. ‘Mind the steps.’
‘It’s so dark,’ Isabel said nervously. ‘I can’t see a thing.’
Rita followed them out onto the veranda. ‘I know the way, love,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Follow me, girls. Rita to the rescue.’ She patted Miranda on the shoulder. ‘Come on, don’t be a hero.’
‘You go first. I’ll see everyone out.’ Miranda glanced up into the sky criss-crossed with searchlights and the tracer fire from the battery of ack-ack guns. Suddenly the lawn was lit like daylight and the women in their high heels and long dresses scampered to the relative safety of the Anderson shelter. Jack appeared at her side. ‘Where’s Isabel?’
‘Don’t worry, she’s safe. Rita took her to the shelter.’
‘You must go too,’ Jack said urgently. ‘And please don’t let Mother bully her, Miranda.’
It was freezing in the shelter and they were crushed together on the wooden benches with their feet in pools of icy water. Shivering in their thin clothes, the women were unusually quiet. Even Rita had nothing to say as they listened to the crump-crump of distant explosions and the constant firing of the ack-ack guns. The silence lay heavily upon them all until Rita started to sing. At first the others stared at her as if she had gone quite mad, and prim little Mrs Walters looked as though she might faint, but Maggie nudged her in the ribs and joined in with the chorus of Run Rabbit, Run in a deep contralto that surprised Miranda almost as much as the fact that Izzie also began to sing. Soon everyone, even Mrs Walters, was singing ‘I’ll be with you in Apple Blossom Time’, followed by ‘Say Little Hen’, and as the fug from their breath and warm bodies threatened to turn the puddles into steam they heard the all clear and there was an undignified scramble to escape from the shelter.
As they made their way back across the lawn Miranda could hear raucous male voices emanating from the coach house. She turned to Rita who was walking beside her. ‘Oh my God. You know what that means.’
Rita glanced over her shoulder at Maggie, who was helping Mrs Walters negotiate the tussocks of grass. ‘I can guess, and I bet Tommy’s at the bottom of it.’
‘Best get the women into the house before they realise what’s going on.’ Miranda sprinted up the steps onto the veranda. She flung the French windows wide open and in the dull glow of the firelight she could see her grandfather, the judge and the doctor sitting around the fire, smoking cigars and drinking brandies. ‘Everyone inside quickly,’ she said, ushering the women into the room. ‘Come in, ladies, and I’ll make some nice hot cocoa for anyone who doesn’t fancy a stiff brandy.’
‘Brandy for me, dear,’ Ivy said, pushing past her. ‘Gentlemen, who’s going to come to the aid of a lady in distress?’
Miranda heard the chairs scrape on the polished floorboards as the gentlemen rose hastily to their feet, and she ushered the rest of the shivering women into the drawing room.
Maggie helped Mrs Walters over the threshold. ‘There’s a terrible din in the coach house,’ she whispered in Miranda’s ear. ‘Go and see what’s happening, and if it’s what I think, for God’s sake shut them up. If the judge gets wind of what’s going on he might leap to the wrong conclusion and your grandfather could end up in prison. Go now, and hurry.’
Chapter Twelve
‘WHAT’S ALL THAT din, Manda?’ Rita said breathlessly as she followed Miranda outside.
‘That’s what I intend to find out.’ Miranda came to a halt as she saw Isabel standing at the top of the steps, looking wraith-like in the moonlight.
‘I can hear Jack’s voice,’ Isabel said through chattering teeth. ‘I think he must be drunk.’
‘And he’s not alone by the sound of it,’ Rita said, chuckling. ‘It must be a hell of a party going on in the coach house.’
Miranda picked up her long skirts and raced down the steps. ‘We’ve got to shut them up before they ruin everything.’ She went straight to the coach house, where in the flickering light of a single candle she found Jack perched on a stool by the workbench and Elzevir sitting cross-legged on the floor, while Tommy swayed on his feet conducting an imaginary orchestra. They stopped singing the moment the door opened. Jack raised a half-empty bottle to Isabel. ‘Here’s to my beautiful fiancée and to the memory of my poor brother. God rest his soul. It’s a rotten send-off, but it’s the best I can do.’ He hiccuped and grinned stupidly. ‘Izzie, darling. Come and have a drink.’
She stared at him in dismay. ‘Jack. How could you?’
‘Leave him alone, miss.’ E
lzevir struggled to his feet. ‘He’s a good chap. I won’t have anyone say anything against my mate Jack.’
‘Elzevir Shipway, that’s enough.’ Miranda adopted the tone her grandmother might have used. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’ She glared at each of them in turn. ‘You should all be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves. You could get my grandfather locked up for having an illicit still on the premises, even if he did intend it for scientific purposes.’
‘Hold on, love,’ Jack said, focusing on her with apparent difficulty. ‘This isn’t a still. The old man is making …’ he paused, frowning, ‘he’s making something.’ His voice trailed off and he looked suddenly like a small boy. ‘Sorry, Izzie. I’m a bit squiffy.’
She rushed forward and snatched the bottle from his hand, throwing it against the wall where it smashed and sent shards of broken glass onto the cement floor. ‘You most certainly are. I’m so angry with you, Jack. You’ve ruined everything and now your mother will hate me even more.’
Rita marched up to Tommy and slapped his face. ‘You’re an idiot. I don’t know why I bother with you, Toop.’
He held his hand to his cheek, gazing at her in astonishment. ‘That’s not fair, love. We was just having a little drink to keep out the cold.’
Miranda could see that this was getting them nowhere. ‘Will you all please shut up,’ she said in desperation. ‘Elzevir, go home. I’ll leave Annie to sort you out in the morning.’ She shooed him out of the door and he shambled off into the night muttering beneath his breath. She turned her head to glare angrily at Jack and Tommy. ‘You’d better go to the kitchen and stay out of sight. I’ll make some black coffee.’
‘I’ll clear up the broken glass,’ Rita said, casting a withering glance at Tommy. ‘And you’d better sober up. I’m not riding pillion with you in that state.’
Isabel pushed Jack away as he attempted to put his arms around her. ‘That goes for you too, Jack Beddoes. You’re an absolute disgrace.’ She caught Miranda’s sceptical glance and had the grace to blush. ‘I mean, anyone can have a bit too much to drink, but you should have had more thought for your mother’s feelings.’ She walked off without giving him a chance to reply.
‘Come on, Jack.’ Miranda looped his arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m going to stick your head under the pump, because if Granny sees you like this your life won’t be worth living.’
Ten minutes later they were in the kitchen with Jack drying his hair on a towel and Tommy seated at the table drinking his second cup of Camp coffee. Miranda had made it as strong as possible and it seemed to be having the desired effect. Tommy had sobered up considerably, although that could have been due to the dressing down Rita had given him when she returned from tidying up the coach house. Isabel was clearly shaken but she had been given the job of making cocoa for the older ladies, who had very nearly been forgotten.
Miranda took the tray of hot drinks into the drawing room, leaving Isabel and Rita to cope with their respective partners. She was met by curious looks but it was Aunt Ivy who spoke first. ‘What’s happened to the young people, Miranda? Do they find us oldies too boring to associate with?’
Miranda set the tray down on an occasional table. ‘Jack and Tommy thought they heard a noise in the hen house and they went to investigate.’
‘Gypsies,’ Maggie said faintly. ‘I knew it. They’re just waiting for a chance to steal the rest of my hens.’
George shook his head. ‘Nonsense, Maggie. They moved on weeks ago. You can’t blame the travellers for everything. It was probably a fox.’
‘Yes.’ Miranda passed a cup of cocoa to Ivy. ‘It was a fox. They saw it slink away but luckily it hadn’t got into the hen house.’ She moved on to give Mrs Walters her hot drink. ‘I’m afraid there isn’t any sugar.’
‘That’s quite all right, my dear. I’m getting used to doing without. We must all do our bit for the war effort.’ Mrs Walters took a sip. ‘It’s quite delicious. Thank you.’
Maggie snatched hers from the tray. ‘Where is Jack now? Has he taken that girl home?’
‘She’s a perfectly nice young lady,’ Ivy said with a superior smile. ‘You should give her a chance to prove herself.’
‘She’s a Carstairs.’ Maggie slammed her cup and saucer down on the table. ‘That speaks for itself.’
Dr Hughes shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘I think perhaps we ought to be on our way, Gladys.’ He rose from his seat by the fire and his thin wisp of a wife leapt to her feet.
‘Thank you for the cocoa, Miranda. It was just what we needed after the air raid.’ She leaned over to kiss Maggie’s cheek. ‘I don’t like to be out too late these dark evenings and you never know whether the Germans will strike again. Poor Hattie Langton was bombed out last week, and I’m always afraid that we’ll go home and find just a pile of rubble where our house used to be.’
Mrs Walters sent a meaningful look at her husband who was nodding off over his brandy. ‘Perhaps we’d best be moving on, Edward. It is getting rather late, but we’ve had a lovely time, Maggie.’ She blushed and dropped her gaze. ‘I mean, it was good to be here to remember poor Ronnie. He was a delightful child and a charming man. We’ll all miss him terribly.’
Miranda abandoned the tray and left the room. It was blatantly obvious that most of the guests were feeling uncomfortable and eager to leave. She hurried back to the kitchen. ‘They’re all going,’ she said, looking round anxiously. ‘Are you sober, Jack?’
He smoothed his dark hair back from his forehead with a rueful grin. ‘More or less.’
‘I’d like to go home too,’ Isabel said stiffly. ‘This evening has been a disaster, Jack. I knew I shouldn’t have come.’
‘And we’d best make tracks.’ Rita prodded Tommy in the ribs. ‘If you can’t drive the blooming bike, then I will. It can’t be that difficult.’
He braced his shoulders. ‘Stop nagging, woman. I’m fine and I wasn’t drunk. I was just a bit merry.’
‘That stuff really is lethal,’ Jack said, pulling on his uniform jacket. ‘My shirt’s wet thanks to you, Miranda. I think you enjoyed half drowning me under the pump.’
‘Maybe I should have held you under for longer. Anyway, are you sure you’re okay to drive? Whose car did you come in anyway? Chloe is still laid up in the stables.’
‘I borrowed a staff car,’ Jack said casually.
‘You borrowed it?’
‘He took it without asking.’ Isabel sighed heavily. ‘I’m afraid he’ll be in terrible trouble if he’s caught.’
Jack met this with a casual shrug and he rose to his feet. ‘I have a perfectly valid pass and I know a back way into the aerodrome. No one will even realise it’s missing.’
Miranda exchanged worried glances with Isabel. ‘You shouldn’t take such risks, Jack.’
‘You’re talking to a chap who flies a Spitfire day in and day out. I’ll be lucky to survive another month.’ He moved swiftly to Isabel’s side and gave her a hug. ‘Just joking, darling.’
‘You shouldn’t say things like that. It’s tempting providence.’ Clearly unhappy, Isabel drew away from him. ‘Thank you for being so sweet, Miranda. I’ll get my things and we’ll be off. Please make my apologies to your grandparents.’ She left the kitchen and Jack hurried after her.
‘That goes for us too.’ Rita dragged Tommy towards the door. ‘You can go out the back way and get the bike started. I don’t want Major Beddoes to smell the drink on you. Serve you right if you go blind boozing on that rot-gut.’
‘Have a heart, Rita.’ Tommy shuffled out into the yard and she closed the door, turning the key in the lock.
‘The poor sod will have a bitch of a headache in the morning.’ She gave Miranda’s shoulders a squeeze as she walked past. ‘Chin up, girl. No one’s any the wiser.’
‘Thanks, Rita. You’re a pal.’
‘We’re good mates, Manda. Put in for a transfer to Warmwell. I’ve got good digs in the village. We could share a room and it’d be like old times.’
‘I’ll think about it, but it’s not that easy.’
‘I know, but try anyway.’ Rita linked arms and led her unprotesting to the hall where Maggie was waving off the last of the guests. ‘I’ll get my coat,’ she whispered. ‘You can sort your granny out. She doesn’t look too happy.’ She darted off, leaving Miranda to face her grandmother.
Maggie turned to her with an exasperated sigh. ‘Well, that was an unqualified disaster, and then we had gypsies or that wretched fox as well as the air raid. Are you sure that all my hens are safely locked up?’
‘Yes, Granny.’
‘Your grandfather’s gone to his study, and I’m going to bed. I’ve left Ivy in the drawing room finishing off a very large brandy. She’s going to stay the night and I’ve put her in Rita’s old room. I told her that I’ve got a splitting headache, so I’ll leave you to see that she gets upstairs safely. You know what she’s like when she’s been drinking.’
‘Don’t you want to say goodbye to Uncle Jack?’
‘I’m not speaking to that reprobate. When he comes to his senses and finds himself a girl from a respectable family, then I might forgive him for debasing the memory of poor Ronnie.’ She stalked off towards the staircase before Miranda had a chance to say anything.
Catching sight of Jack loitering outside the cloakroom, she beckoned to him. ‘The coast’s clear, although I think you should have made it up with Granny. She’s very upset.’
‘She’ll come round in the end. When she realises what a lovely girl Isabel is, she can’t fail to like her.’
‘You really are smitten this time, aren’t you, Jack?’
His serious expression melted into a smile. ‘Absolutely and completely. I’m going to marry her and if her parents won’t give their permission we’ll only have to wait until May and then she can do what she likes.’
Rita approached them, wrapping her scarf around her head and neck. ‘Your fiancée is bawling her eyes out in the cloakroom, Jack. I think you’d better go and sort her out.’
‘Oh, bloody hell.’ He crossed the floor in long strides, pausing to knock on the door before entering.