by Ellie Dean
Carol wished she was nearer so she could hear what was being said, but she could see by the set of his shoulders and the way he constantly tried to reach out to Dolly that the American was not in charge of the situation despite his foot being in the door – and that her mother was rigidly keeping him at a distance.
Carol shivered from a particularly cold blast of wind, and huddled deeper into the doorway of the abandoned house, intrigued and confused by the scene before her. And yet the incident with the cauliflower cheese could now be explained. Dolly was rarely careless with anything, but at the mention of his name she’d dropped the bowl and turned quite pale, unusually in a dither.
Carol realised that it also explained why the general had deliberately sought her out after the meeting, and the intensity in his gaze which had unsettled her. It must have come as a shock to him, she realised, for she looked very like her mother, and he must have thought he’d seen a ghost of the woman he’d once known. Was the general an old flame? He was about the right age and type of man her mother fell for, and Dolly had a legion of past admirers scattered all over the world, so it was entirely feasible.
Carol could sense the intimacy between them as he removed his foot from the door and the conversation continued, but she could also sense the tension, and guessed that perhaps their affair hadn’t ended well – and for all his persuasion and charm, Dolly wanted nothing more to do with him.
Carol bit her lip, uneasy now at her prying. Whatever was between them was none of her business, and she should leave them to it before they caught her snooping, which would be mortifying. She darted out of the doorway, then slipped through the shadows of the overhanging trees by the graveyard wall and eased round the corner of the pub.
A quick glance told her she’d only just been in time, for the general was now walking disconsolately back up the hill, her mother standing in the doorway watching him until he went into the churchyard and out of sight.
Carol ignored the children who were playing amongst the jeeps and army trucks, and was deaf to the raucous noise going on inside as she leaned against the pub’s wall. She would say nothing to Dolly, she decided, but it would be interesting to see if she mentioned his visit.
Dolly was reticent about her past – especially when it came to the men she’d fallen for – and over the years, Carol and Pauline had become frustrated by her lack of willingness to talk about either of their fathers and answer their questions. They knew only that Pauline’s had deserted her and Dolly, and Carol’s had been killed in an accident before she’d been born. They’d had to accept that it didn’t really matter who they were, for those men had played no part in their lives – and yet, deep down, it niggled, for this lack of knowledge had left a void, which every now and again needed to be filled.
Felix walked blindly up the hill, determined not to look back for one last sight of Dolly, even though he could sense her watching him. But when he rounded the corner and slowly made his way up the winding path to the back of the now deserted churchyard, he paused and gazed down to the thatched roofs where a single column of smoke rose from the chimney to be swiftly erased by the wind – just as his hopes for reconciliation had been dashed.
He pulled out a large handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his eyes, then shrugged deeper into his coat collar and tried to find solace in the fact that despite her cool reaction and cutting barbs, the exchange had been painful for both of them. He’d seen it, raw, in her eyes and in the flutter of her fingers as she’d almost touched the string of pearls he’d given her so many years before.
The fact that she still wore them heartened him – and the anguish in her face told him she did still care – but his hopes for forgiveness had been shattered when she’d made it clear that although fate had brought them together again it was too late even for friendship.
Felix had believed that the years he’d spent in the army and the experiences he’d had during the Great War had cured him of sentimentality, but he’d been wrong. The agony of losing her for a second time weighed heavily in his heart, the bitter tears a testament to his regret for having hurt her so badly she couldn’t forgive him.
He took a shallow, shuddering breath and went to sit on a lichen-stained stone bench set beneath the trees. He was supposed to be attending the wake, and Herby would be wondering where he’d got to. But he needed time to absorb what had just happened – needed the tranquillity of this country graveyard to help restore his strength of purpose so he could face the many responsibilities he had without being distracted by Dolly.
Felix had no idea how long he’d been sitting there when the sound of hurrying footsteps snatched him from his thoughts. He recognised the sound and knew who it was, so remained in the lengthening shadows beneath the trees and watched her as she walked purposefully up the lane on the other side of the low stone wall.
He noted sadly that she seemed unaffected by their encounter, and appeared to be eager to join the others at the Queen’s Arms. Dolly had always enjoyed a good party, he remembered, as he took in the mink coat, the high heels and fetching little veiled hat – all of which were far too chic for this country hamlet – but which were the very essence of the woman he knew he would always love.
Felix waited until she was out of sight and he could no longer hear her high heels clicking on the paving stones. He stood and eased his stiff shoulders beneath the heavy greatcoat, realising that the day was closing in, the wind was strengthening, and there was the electricity of an impending storm in the atmosphere which didn’t bode well for the equipment on the shore.
With a growing sense of urgency, he strode through the graveyard and approached the chantry where he found several GIs lounging about smoking and drinking cider. They rapidly hid the drink and cigarettes, stood shakily to attention and executed sloppy salutes.
‘You go and find my driver and tell him I’m here,’ he ordered the steadier of the group. ‘The rest of you sober up and get down to the shore. There are boats and equipment to be hauled above the high-water mark before this storm breaks.’
They scuttled off and Felix waited impatiently for Herby, glad to have something important to occupy his mind instead of raking over the past.
17
Cliffehaven
The main room of the Town Hall had been decorated with every bit of bunting, strand of worn tinsel and long, colourful and rather battered paper chains that could be found in the big box the women had unearthed from the back of a storage cupboard. It was barely mid-morning but the vast space was humming with activity as the wireless blared out Christmas carols to sing along to, and the children in the makeshift nursery got over-excited and rather fractious. Christmas was only seven days away, and at last, it really felt festive.
At the centre of the room were lines of trestle tables where women were frantically packing the very last of the Christmas boxes to be posted to the service personnel in Europe, and to one side of the room more women were sorting through the many generous donations of gifts and toys to be distributed amongst those most in need of some cheer in the town. The canteen was providing welcome cups of tea and fish paste sandwiches, and at a long table by the door nimble-fingered men and women were cutting out the pictures on old greeting cards to make gift tags and tree decorations.
Peggy and a far more relaxed Pauline were sorting through the huge pile of donated toys, most of which had clearly been well loved by their former small owners. Peggy found a toy car that was less battered than some, checked her long list and decided little Billy Watson should have it. He was only five, but he’d already been moved twice from unsuitable billets and his poor mother was at her wits’ end to provide a decent Christmas for her three little ones while her husband was on a battleship somewhere in the Pacific.
She spied a baby doll for his sister and a pea-shooter for his older brother. ‘I doubt Amy will thank me for giving him this,’ she said on a sigh, ‘but he’s too old for toy cars and teddies.’
‘I found a lovely embroidered sweate
r I put aside for Amy,’ said Pauline, ‘so that should make up for it.’ She stopped to take a sip of tea. ‘It’s sad to realise there are so many dispossessed, needy families in the town. When I think how it was before the war …’
‘It was still a struggle for some, even then,’ said Peggy, wrapping the gifts in old newspaper and adding a hand-made tag, ‘but at least the community hasn’t lost its sense of charity. I can’t believe how much stuff we’ve been given this year.’
‘The special Christmas party should go with a swing,’ said Pauline happily. ‘Has Ron tried on that Father Christmas suit yet?’
Peggy nodded. ‘He tries to make out he’s grumpy about it, but I have a suspicion he’s really looking forward to being the centre of attention. He’s marvellous with small children, and I heard him practising his ho ho hos the other night.’
‘Bless him,’ sighed Pauline. ‘He must be missing his grandchildren, but at least he has Daisy to spoil.’
‘Daisy is in danger of getting too precocious with so much attention lavished on her,’ said Peggy briskly, ‘and of course he misses the others. We all do.’
Pauline must have heard the wistfulness in Peggy’s voice, for she squeezed her hand in sympathy before they continued sorting, choosing and wrapping as the carols rang out from the wireless and the chatter around them rose in volume.
‘By the way,’ said Pauline some time later, ‘have you heard anything from Doris about Christmas Day?’
‘Not a peep,’ said Peggy. ‘I do worry about her, you know. She must have been dreadfully hurt when it was clear there would be no invitation to that stuck-up lunch, and I don’t like the thought of her shutting herself away to lick her wounds.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought that was at all like Doris,’ retorted Pauline, who’d never got on with her. ‘She’s more likely to brazen it out and cause misery on everyone else’s Christmas in revenge. Don’t waste your pity on her, Peggy, she really doesn’t deserve it.’
Peggy knew she was right, but despite everything, Doris was her sister, and she felt disloyal at not having warned her that Lady Chump-Chop had absolutely no intention of sending her an invitation. And yet that would only have caused a terrible row, with Doris accusing her of jealousy and spite even though her warning would have been given out of love. It was terribly sad that her sister was so blinkered and unapproachable when it came to her so-called ‘friends’, and the knowledge that Doris must be a very unhappy woman right now didn’t sit easily with her – almost tempting her to call in and comfort her even though she knew Doris would only send her off with a flea in her ear.
Pauline broke into her troubled thoughts by changing the topic. ‘I got letters from Mum and Carol yesterday. I’m relieved Mum went down to be with her. She must be finding it very hard to leave that cottage – and I still don’t really understand why it’s necessary. Neither of them explained anything in much detail, only that the army has requisitioned the entire area.’
Glad to have something other than Doris to think about, Peggy said, ‘It must be something to do with the invasion rumours. I got letters too, and the lack of any real information must be because whatever the army is up to, it’s all very hush-hush.’
Pauline paused and eased her back. ‘I do worry about little Carol,’ she murmured. ‘She’s had such a tough year and having to move out must be the last straw. And it doesn’t help being so close to Christmas. You’d have thought the powers that be would have organised things better, and at least left it until the New Year.’
‘Winning the war has to come first, no matter how inconvenient it is to everyone,’ said Peggy sadly. ‘Poor Carol. It’s rotten luck, and I can’t begin to imagine how she must be feeling about moving out tomorrow.’
‘I wish she’d come to me instead of that farm. I don’t like the sound of Jack and his wife at all, and she should be home with her family, not stuck in a draughty billet that sounds from her letters to be little better than a barn.’
‘Dolly did say she’d suggested it,’ said Peggy, ‘and even offered to take her back to Bournemouth, but Carol seems determined to stay as close as possible to the village, and I can’t say I blame her.’
Pauline gave a deep sigh. ‘I can understand why she doesn’t want to go far from David and the baby – I’d feel the same if I had a memorial to my boys that I could visit.’
Peggy heard the quaver in her voice and quickly put her arm about her shoulders in a hug of deeply felt, silent empathy. Seamus and Joseph had not come home to be buried in a peaceful graveyard, but they would be remembered, and when this war was finally over, their names would be carved into the stone of yet another war memorial to the fallen.
She looked up as the door opened and gave a gasp as the tall, handsome figure in the dark uniform of the RNR surveyed the room. ‘Pauline,’ she squeaked excitedly, ‘look who’s here.’
Pauline turned and gave a little cry of delight as Brendon strode towards her and then gathered her into his arms, lifting her off the floor so he could kiss her cheek.
‘Hello, Mum,’ he said, still holding her aloft. ‘It’s good to see you looking so well.’
‘Oh, Brendon. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have stayed at home and cooked a meal and—’
‘Now, Mum, there’s no need to make a fuss.’ He grinned and carefully set her back on her feet. ‘It’s why I wanted it to be a surprise.’
Pauline hugged him, the top of her head barely reaching above his midriff. ‘It’s a wonderful surprise – the best ever,’ she murmured. She looked up at him, her hand lovingly cupping his cheek. ‘You look tired,’ she said fretfully, ‘and you seem to have lost weight. Aren’t the navy feeding you properly?’
He chuckled. ‘The navy feeds me very well, Mum, it’s all the exercise that’s keeping me trim. As for being tired … To be sure we’re all tired of this war dragging on with no end in sight.’
Pauline frowned but nodded her acceptance. ‘Does your father know you’re here?’
He shook his head. ‘I came straight from the train hoping to find you first.’ His dark blue eyes met Peggy’s and he reached out to bring her into the embrace. ‘And how’s my favourite auntie?’ he asked after kissing her. ‘Still keeping busy, I see,’ he teased.
‘I’m all the better for seeing you,’ she replied, holding back happy tears. ‘And staying busy keeps me out of mischief – unlike your grandad, who’s still up to all his old tricks.’
‘I’m glad he hasn’t changed,’ said Brendon affectionately. ‘Life would be very dull without his shenanigans.’
Peggy asked the question that had so far been avoided. ‘How long can you stay, Brendon? Are you home for Christmas?’
His smile faded. ‘I’m sorry, but I only have a day pass. All leave has been cancelled for the foreseeable future.’
‘Oh, Brendon, no,’ moaned Pauline. ‘And I was so looking forward to having you home for once.’
‘It can’t be helped, Mum,’ he said gently. ‘But don’t let’s spoil the time we do have together by being downcast. How about a slap-up lunch at the British Restaurant once I’ve tracked down Dad?’
‘That would be lovely,’ Pauline said raggedly as she tried to swallow her disappointment and be brave. ‘But I think he went out with your grandfather, so they could be anywhere.’
‘Ron said he was taking some of the boys out with the Home Guard for rifle practice,’ said Peggy, ‘so I suspect they’ll be up by the ruined farmhouse and barn.’
Brendon glanced up at the large clock on the wall above the door. ‘It shouldn’t take me long to get up there, and the walk will do me good after sitting in that train for half the morning.’
‘But you’ve only just arrived, and we’ve hardly had time to catch our breath,’ protested Pauline. ‘And what if they aren’t there? Half your day’s leave will be wasted and—’
He put his large hands on her shoulders to still her anxiety as he looked lovingly into her eyes. ‘If I don’t find them straig
ht off, I’ll come back,’ he promised. He bent to kiss both women, and before they could delay him any further, hurried from the hall.
Pauline scrabbled in her apron pocket for a handkerchief to dry her tears. ‘I must look an absolute fright,’ she rasped. ‘Why on earth can’t I stop being so weepy and needy every time I get to see him?’
Peggy hugged her. ‘Because you love him,’ she said quietly, ‘and that’s nothing to be ashamed of, Pauline, just try not to overdo it.’ She became more brisk. ‘Let’s get out of these aprons and headscarves and find some lipstick and powder. I’m betting all three will be back before we know it, and then we’ll have the double treat of being with Brendon as well as enjoying a lunch out.’
Brendon strode up the High Street, glad to be back in the familiar surroundings where he’d grown up, but saddened by the changes war had wrought. He noted the bomb craters and piles of rubble that had once been shops and the cinema where his Uncle Jim had worked as a projectionist, and the lack of the Christmas lights which used to be strung across the street and in the branches of the town’s traditional tree.
He remembered that, as little boys, he and his brothers had always loved to come with their parents to look in awe at the wonderfully decorated tree outside the council offices, the magic of Christmas still powerful in his innocent belief that the jolly, fat, bearded man in the red suit would come on his sleigh laden with presents while he was asleep. What he wouldn’t give now for a return to that innocence when the world felt safe and his family was whole, unscarred by the ugliness and horror of war, and unaware of what fate had in store for them.
He firmly banished the memories that had been darkened by the events of the last few years, and walked faster, past the Crown which had just opened and was heaving with servicemen and factory girls, and then down a narrow side street which would lead to a track across the hills. He was eager to see Ron and his father again, for this would be the last time he could come home for several months, and he wanted a quiet word with them whilst they had no women around.