by Ellie Dean
‘Arthritis is merely another penalty of old age,’ said Cordelia with a soft smile. ‘When you get to my age most things hurt, and you just have to learn to get used to it.’ She eyed Peggy fondly. ‘Why don’t you have a cuppa and a cigarette before you go out again? I know you’re dreading facing Doris, and it will do you good to relax a bit before you go into battle.’
Peggy blew out her cheeks and reached for the ever-present teapot. ‘I’m hoping it won’t be a battle,’ she said pouring out the weak brew into a cup, ‘but I suspect it probably will be. Doris isn’t the easiest person to deal with, and she doesn’t like any form of criticism or what she thinks of as poking my nose into her business. But she really does need someone to put her right, otherwise she’ll lose what family she still has. And love her or loathe her, she doesn’t deserve that.’
‘I disagree,’ said Cordelia, adding a few drops of banana essence to the mashed parsnips and vigorously stirring them in. ‘Ted left her because she’d become impossible to live with. Anthony took that MOD posting after he married Suzie because she’d tried to take over his life for years and was showing distinct signs of interfering in his marriage – and to be honest, Peggy, she’s hardly been the most loyal and loving sister to you or Doreen.’
Peggy chuckled, cradling the warm cup in her cold hands. ‘That was succinctly put, Cordelia. Perhaps you should go and talk to her instead of me,’ she teased.
Cordelia pulled a face. ‘No, thank you,’ she said flatly. ‘I don’t have the patience, and would only end up hitting her over the head with something.’
Peggy laughed at the thought of the tiny, birdlike woman attacking the robust Doris. ‘Better not, then.’ She watched Cordelia spreading the parsnip mess onto a thin slice of wheatmeal bread. ‘What on earth are you doing, Cordy?’
‘Making banana spread for Daisy,’ she replied, cutting the bread into soldiers. ‘She loves it – although I find it’s a rather strange concoction and a bit too sweet for my liking.’
Peggy broke off the end of one bread finger and popped it in her mouth, finding to her surprise that it wasn’t bad at all considering very few things had sugar in them these days, and anything sweet was a real treat. ‘I’m not surprised she likes it, but where on earth did you get the idea?’
‘It was a recipe I found in one of those government leaflets in the library.’ Cordelia tied a bib around Daisy’s neck and drews her onto her lap. ‘It’s amazing what one can do with a bottle of essence. I’m thinking of trying her out with chocolate or strawberry if Ron manages to get me some more bottles from his pal.’
Daisy clapped her hands and eagerly grabbed the finger of bread, squashing it in her small fist before shoving it into her mouth and munching it happily. ‘Narnar,’ she shouted, spluttering bread and spread everywhere. ‘Gan Gan made narnar. Yum yum.’
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full, darling,’ reproved Cordelia mildly, removing bits of bread and goo from her wrap-round apron. ‘It’s very bad manners, and you’ve made Gan Gan’s pinny all dirty.’
Peggy watched the two of them smile at one another, her heart warmed by their closeness, and the joy Cordelia had found in Daisy. She finished the weak tea, threw the stub of her cigarette into the fire and reached for her coat and hat.
‘I’d better get going before I change my mind,’ she said reluctantly. ‘Are you sure you can manage Daisy on your own?’
‘Oh yes,’ replied Cordelia, feeding the little girl with another finger of bread. ‘We’ll get along just fine, won’t we?’ She lovingly patted the child’s chubby cheek and earned a delighted giggle.
‘Ron should be back very soon, but if there is a problem, you can always ring me at Doris’s.’ She pulled on her overcoat, which had become shabby over the years but was still the warmest thing she possessed, and crammed on her felt hat, anchoring it with two hatpins against the strong wind she knew she’d soon encounter. Drawing on her gloves, she hooked her rather tatty fur collar about her neck, ignoring the stink of mothballs emanating from it, and picked up her handbag.
Avoiding the sticky mess on Daisy’s face, she kissed her dark curls before kissing Cordelia’s soft cheek. ‘Wish me luck,’ she murmured.
‘I certainly do,’ said Cordelia, her expression concerned. ‘Just remember that you’re loved and valued, Peggy, and if things turn nasty come back home to us, safe in the knowledge that you did your best, but some battles can never be won.’
Peggy nodded, then hurried downstairs and out the back door. Tucking her chin into her fur collar against the bitter cold, she walked briskly along Camden Road. As she passed the fire station, she saw Rita doing something to the engine of a fire truck and gave her a wave, then hurried across the High Street into Havelock Road.
The cul-de-sac was deserted. The large houses set behind the hedges and high walls had taken on an air of abandonment now most of the residents had decamped to safer parts of the country, and the leafless trees that lined the road were stark against the lowering sky. The only sounds she could hear were the crashing waves on the shore and the plaintive mewl of the seagulls. Spring was clearly a long way off, and these weeks of waiting for something to happen were beginning to get everyone down.
Peggy’s footsteps faltered as she approached Doris’s house. She’d telephoned earlier to ensure her sister was at home, but her response had been less than enthusiastic – no doubt fully aware of why Peggy had asked to come over. But the die had been cast, and there really was no turning back now. She took a deep breath, counted to ten and strode purposefully towards the front door.
Doris must have been looking out for her, because she opened the door before Peggy could knock, and silently stood back to let her in.
The warmth was delicious after the freezing walk, and Peggy followed her sister into the drawing room where there was a roaring fire in the grate. ‘Oh, what bliss,’ she breathed, holding her hands out to it. ‘It’s bitter out there.’
‘I’ve made coffee,’ said Doris, settling onto the expensively upholstered couch and adjusting the tray of Georgian silver coffee-ware on the low table before her.
‘Bless you. I could certainly do with it.’
Peggy unfastened her coat and removed the fur as she perched on the very edge of the couch, almost afraid to dent the military row of plump cushions along the back. Doris was very fussy about her furnishings, and it wouldn’t do to upset her right at the start. She breathed in the delicious aroma of real coffee as Doris poured it into small cups and managed to resist remarking upon how lucky Doris was to have such a luxury when most people had to put up with Camp Coffee essence from a bottle – or, more often, go without.
Doris lit a cigarette without offering one to Peggy and smoothed her tweed skirt over her knees, the diamond engagement ring flashing on her finger. ‘I know why you’ve come,’ she said finally. ‘And if you’re expecting me to apologise for what I said, then you’ll be disappointed.’
Peggy finished the cup of coffee before replying so she could choose her words carefully. ‘I’m here to apologise to you,’ she said, putting down the delicate china on the low table and slipping off her coat now she’d thawed out. ‘I should have made sure you were warned, and reassured you that, no matter what, you’d be welcome at Beach View. It was thoughtless of me, and I’ve been fretting over it ever since.’
Doris tapped her cigarette against the crystal ashtray, her expression unreadable. ‘I accept your apology,’ she said stiffly. ‘In hindsight, I suppose I can understand your good intentions – you’re not naturally unkind.’ She regarded Peggy coolly. ‘But it doesn’t lessen the hurt you caused, or the embarrassment of knowing you were all sniggering behind my back.’
Peggy opened her mouth to reject her accusation, but Doris forestalled her. ‘Don’t bother denying it,’ she snapped. ‘I know what that rabble at Beach View are like, and they wouldn’t be able to resist the slightest chance to belittle me.’
Peggy knew this was the moment where things could turn nast
y, so she pulled out her own packet of Park Drive, stalling for time. Once her cigarette was lit, she chose her response carefully. ‘You’ve got it wrong, Doris, and I’m surprised you should think that of them.’
‘They don’t like me, and the feeling is mutual,’ said Doris flatly. ‘Not that I spend any time worrying about it. Their opinions count for nothing in the scheme of things.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Peggy. ‘They’re good-hearted, genuine people who, given the chance, would welcome you with open arms and defend you to the last. But you seem determined to keep all of us at arm’s length. Why is that, Doris? What have we done to earn such scorn?’
Doris took a breath. ‘I doubt very much if you really want to hear the truth,’ she said.
‘Oh, but I do,’ Peggy replied firmly. ‘Let’s get everything out in the open for once, because I’m sick of dancing around you, and want to know what you’re really thinking and feeling.’ Her pulse sped up as she regarded her sister evenly. ‘But be prepared to hear what I have to say in return, Doris.’
She looked fleetingly wary, then lifted her chin and held Peggy’s gaze. ‘Our parents did the best they could to raise us decently, and I shall always be grateful for that. But they had few ambitions for us three girls and I always knew I was meant for better things than to work in a typing pool or run a third-rate boarding house.’
Peggy felt a stab of anger at this, but remained silent as Doris paused to finish her cup of coffee.
‘Being the eldest, I always felt left out of things. You and Doreen were very close, and I knew I wasn’t as pretty or clever as you both were, but I made the best of what I had, determined to escape – a bit like Dolly, I suppose.’
Doris was nothing like the vivacious and loveable Dolly, but Peggy kept that thought to herself.
‘As you know, I went to secretarial college and found an office job in London where I began to plan my next move. I took elocution lessons and learned social skills so I could join the right clubs and societies and mix with the right sort of people where I’d find a suitable husband who could provide what I wanted.’
She flicked a glance at Peggy. ‘It might sound cold-blooded to you, but that’s how it was. Doreen did quite well until she met that wastrel of a husband, and then brought shame on us all by having that illegitimate baby. As for you … You’ve squandered every opportunity to make something of yourself, and even seem to take some sort of smug satisfaction in the fact.’
She drew breath before hurrying on. ‘I can do the sums, Margaret, and know you and Jim had to get married, and because of that you’ve been dragged down to his level. You encourage his disgusting father by letting him live with you, and then fill the house with common chits like Ivy and Rita. There’s no sense of pride in you – no ambition to do more than be a skivvy for the rest of your life – and as for having another baby at your age …’ She grimaced. ‘Well, that says it all, really.’
Peggy had heard most of this before, but each word was a blow that still hurt, and it took all her willpower not to lash back. ‘We’re all different, Doris,’ she replied quietly, stubbing out her cigarette with some vigour. ‘And although we’ve chosen different paths, Doreen and I are content with how our lives have turned out.’
She regarded her sister sadly. ‘But for all your ambition, you’re back here in Cliffehaven, and clearly not at all fulfilled. What happened in London to make you so bitter, Doris?’
Doris’s hand wasn’t steady as she replenished the cups from the silver coffee pot. ‘I’m not at all bitter,’ she replied, her gaze fixed firmly on the task. ‘I’m on many of the most important committees in the town, have a lovely home, a wardrobe full of beautiful clothes and a generous allowance which provides me with the best of everything.’
Peggy attempted to touch her hand, but Doris moved it out of reach. ‘Yes, you have all the material things, Doris, but they don’t make up for the love and companionship of a family,’ she said softly.
‘Of course not,’ Doris retorted. ‘But Anthony has a wife and child to care for, and he can’t help it if the MOD sent him to the other end of the country. And I certainly don’t need Ted hanging about now we’re divorced. He’s betrayed me once too often for me ever to forgive him.’
Peggy saw the sheen of tears in her sister’s eyes before they were quickly blinked away. Doris was suffering, and Peggy’s soft heart ached to give her comfort. The things she’d meant to say this morning were instantly dismissed, for her sister needed love and understanding, not harsh words.
‘But you aren’t alone, Doris. Daisy, Cissy and I are part of your family, and I came here to try and mend things between us,’ she said. ‘I’ve thought and thought how best to go about it, because I really don’t want to lose you, but if we can’t get to the nub of things, the air will never be cleared.’
She leaned towards her. ‘You need to confide in me, Doris, because I can sense all that pent-up anger, frustration and hurt inside you which, I suspect, has very little to do with me or the people living at Beach View – and until you let it out, you’ll never find peace.’
Doris glanced at her before lighting another cigarette. ‘Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?’ she sneered. ‘What a story you’d have to tell to the others. I can just hear you all laughing – especially Ronan.’
‘I’m not that cruel,’ said Peggy firmly. ‘You should know me well enough by now that anything you told me in confidence I would take to the grave.’ She tamped down on her impatience. ‘Talk to me, Doris, for heaven’s sake, or I swear I’ll shake it out of you.’
Doris’s mouth twitched. ‘I don’t doubt it,’ she murmured. ‘You always were fiery.’
Peggy grinned. ‘We had some humdingers when we were kids, didn’t we? Do you remember when we fought over the doll’s pram, and I pushed you so hard you fell and cut your knee on the back step?’
Doris nodded, her fingers straying to the hem of her tweed skirt. ‘I still have the scar, although it’s faded now.’
‘But there are other scars that haven’t healed, aren’t there?’ Peggy asked softly. ‘Why don’t you tell me about them?’
Doris ditched the cigarette in the ashtray, got to her feet and walked to the enormous bay window which overlooked the garden and beyond to the expanse of grey sea which rolled and broke in white foam against the deserted promenade.
Peggy watched as she stood in silence, her arms wrapped about her waist, her shoulders tense, and knew she was struggling to break the habit of a lifetime and reveal her innermost thoughts and feelings.
‘When I was eighteen, I met a man at a private weekend house party,’ she began hesitantly. ‘His name was Robert, and he was heir to a banking dynasty.’ She kept her back to Peggy, and tightened her arms about her waist before she continued.
‘He was handsome and very popular amongst the London set I’d managed to fall in with, and when he made it clear he was keen on me, I thought all my dreams had come true.’ She paused and gave a sigh. ‘I was hopelessly in love with him, you see, and didn’t think he’d even noticed me amongst all the glamorous debutantes that always surrounded him.’
Afraid of breaking the spell, Peggy resisted the urge to embrace Doris as she struggled to continue what was clearly a very painful story.
‘Robert was very attentive, and for the first time in my life I felt truly cherished – almost serene in my happiness – and although he was enormously hard to resist, I sensed that if I slept with him as he wanted, it would change things between us, and he’d lose respect for me.’ Her voice was unsteady as she went on. ‘And I wanted to wait until our wedding day – to be able to walk down the aisle in white knowing I’d be pure for him. More fool me,’ she rasped, continuing to stare out of the window.
Peggy had a nasty idea where this was going, but said nothing as she watched her sister battle to continue.
‘We’d been seeing each other for about six months when we were both invited to another house party.’ Doris’s voice faltered and
her whole body stiffened. ‘I was hurrying down the draughty corridor to the bathroom when I overheard a conversation between two of the girls through an open bedroom door. Hearing my name, I stopped to eavesdrop.’
She turned to Peggy, her face drawn, her eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘It’s always been said that the eavesdropper hears no good of themselves – and what I learned that evening was extremely nasty.’ She took a shuddering breath, rapidly blinked back her tears and rushed on.
‘Robert and his friends had been laughing at me behind my back – calling me a parvenu – a jumped-up typist with ideas above her station who actually had the nerve to think she could snare one of the most eligible bachelors in London. They’d made bets on how quickly he could seduce me.’
As Peggy gasped in horror, Doris lifted her chin in defiance. ‘It seemed I’d held out far longer than they’d expected, and everyone thought it was a huge joke. But Robert was getting bored with me and the game, and in danger of losing a hefty wager if nothing happened over that weekend.’ Her voice faltered. ‘So he’d set things up that evening to have his way with me while the others listened at the bedroom door.’
The tears were determinedly held back as she rushed to conclude her tale. ‘I felt sick with shock; hurt and humiliated to the point where I just wanted to curl up and die. Luckily for me, everyone was getting dressed for dinner, so I packed my bag, slipped out through a back door and ran all the way down the drive to the village bus stop. It was raining, but I hardly noticed as I waited there in the dark and cold for what felt like hours.’
‘Oh, Doris,’ said a distressed Peggy, leaping to her feet and taking her in her arms. ‘How cruel they were. I can’t begin to imagine how agonising it must have been for you.’
Doris clung to her. ‘Yes, it was cruel,’ she replied some moments later, drawing gently back from the embrace. ‘And the pain was almost intolerable. But it taught me a valuable lesson.’
Peggy lovingly tucked a strand of hair back from her sister’s face as Doris dabbed at her eyes with a scrap of handkerchief. ‘And what was that?’