by Ellie Dean
‘I’d aimed too high – allowed myself to believe in a fantasy – and been too naïve to realise that of course I didn’t really fit into their world.’
It was a great pity Doris hadn’t learnt the lesson well enough to avoid women like the jumped-up Lady Chumley and her snobbish clique, thought Peggy, giving her another swift hug. ‘The real toffs are a different breed,’ she murmured. ‘You have to be born into it to understand the unwritten rules and mores which identify them as belonging.’
Doris nodded. ‘I know that now, but back then I was a silly girl with her heart on her sleeve and stars in her eyes.’ She gave a deprecating shrug. ‘It’s no wonder they used me for sport.’
Peggy understood better now why Doris was so afraid of ridicule, and saw even the most gentle of teasing as an insult. She vowed to have a quiet word with Ron when she got back, for he made no bones about the fact he regarded Doris as a ridiculous woman, and never missed a chance to tweak her tail.
Peggy took her hand and led her back to the couch, waiting for her to finish the cigarette until she spoke again. ‘Was that why you came back to Cliffehaven?’ she prompted gently.
Doris nodded. ‘I got a job in the council offices and found a flat in Camden Road, unable to face the rest of you by returning home to Beach View. I needed time and privacy to recover – and I could only do that by cutting myself off from everyone.’
‘But we’d guessed something bad must have happened in London to bring you back here, and Mum and Dad were at their wits’ end to understand why you preferred to live in a flat instead of coming home.’ Peggy took her hand. ‘None of us would have judged you, and I can’t bear the thought of you suffering alone like that when there was love and support just around the corner.’
‘I was too ashamed,’ Doris admitted. ‘And as time went on and everyone accepted I wasn’t going to explain things, it seemed simpler to draw a line under it all and pretend none of it had happened.’
‘But it still rankles, doesn’t it?’ asked Peggy.
‘Not as much as it did,’ she replied, ‘but there are still times when I feel that humiliation wash over me, and have to steel myself against it.’ She shot Peggy a wan smile. ‘It has helped to talk about it at last – and I do feel as if a burden has been lifted. So thank you for that, Peggy.’
Peggy gently squeezed her hand, warmed by her sister’s words and the use of her pet name. ‘I’m glad to have been a help, even though it was clearly painful for you to dredge it all up again. But did you never talk to Ted about it?’
Doris shook her head. ‘When I met Edward, I wanted to make a fresh start without the past overshadowing it.’ She mangled the handkerchief between her fingers. ‘Edward was hardly the greatest catch – he was only a counter assistant at the Home and Colonial back then – but he was handsome, good company and very ambitious, with a surprising acumen for playing the stock market.’
She gave a little sigh. ‘I can’t honestly say I was madly in love with him, but we had a lot in common, and I liked him very much – probably because I didn’t have to hide who I was or where I’d come from and felt comfortable with him.’
Peggy thought of the abiding passion she still felt for her Jim and experienced a pang of sorrow that her sister had settled for less. ‘I’m sorry to hear you didn’t love him, Doris,’ she murmured.
‘He was my best friend and I was very fond of him. I believed he loved well enough for both of us,’ said Doris. ‘Until I found out about the affair he’d had with that tart on the fish counter,’ she added sourly.
Her chin went up and her expression hardened. ‘And before you say anything, I tried my hardest to forgive and forget – even went to his flat and begged him to come home so we could try again. But everything I said fell on deaf ears – and now I know the depths of his most recent betrayal, I’m glad it’s over.’
Peggy frowned. ‘Why? What’s he done now?’
Doris took a deep breath as if to steady her emotions. ‘When baby Teddy was born, I couldn’t wait to see him and offered to go up there to help. But Anthony said Susan wanted to get used to things before having visitors, so of course I did as he asked and waited for his telephone call. Then I discovered Edward had stayed with them for a whole week just after she’d brought the baby home.’
Her mouth became a thin line, her eyes glittering now with anger. ‘As if that wasn’t enough, he then went up there for Christmas. There was no such invitation for me,’ she said bitterly. ‘Not a word was said by any of them – not even my own son – and you can have absolutely no idea of how hurt and betrayed I felt.’
‘Oh, yes I can,’ said Peggy stoutly. ‘If my family had done that to me I would want to shrivel up and die.’
‘None of your lot would dream of treating you so badly,’ said Doris. ‘For all their faults, they are loyal, and I hope you fully appreciate how very lucky you are in that respect.’
‘I certainly do. But how did you find out Ted had been up there?’
‘I received a card from Susan’s parents saying how sorry they were I’d missed the celebrations, but delighted that Edward had managed to find the time to be with them. They enclosed a snapshot of Edward holding the baby.’
‘I’d have killed Jim if he’d done that to me,’ hissed Peggy.
‘The thought did cross my mind,’ Doris replied dryly. ‘But I still have some dignity left, and managed to restrain myself from punching him on the nose when he turned up, all smiles, to deliver a box of groceries. I confronted him with what I knew and he told me that I had been expected to join them, and that he’d have happily driven me up there so we could spend Christmas together. But as I’d already keenly accepted the invitation to Lady Chumley’s, he and Anthony agreed that since it was such a grand occasion, they didn’t think it would be fair to make me choose one over the other when it was clear I would be reluctant to turn down such an honour.’
‘Oh, dear heavens,’ sighed Peggy.
‘It’s my own fault,’ said Doris flatly. ‘I shouldn’t have told anyone about that blasted invitation until I had it in my hand. Now I have to pay the price and try to make the best of things.’
‘And you will, Doris,’ soothed Peggy. ‘You’re a Dawson girl, and we Dawsons are a tough bunch, who never give up without a fight.’
Doris sank back into the cushions and reached for her gold cigarette case but left it unopened on her lap as the tears trembled on her eyelashes again. ‘I’ve fought hard all my life to make something of myself – to prove my worth – and I’m tired, Peggy – tired of it all.’
Peggy was finding it hard to adapt to this previously unseen side of her sister, for Doris had never been vulnerable. ‘Life isn’t easy for any of us,’ she murmured. ‘We all have dreams, Doris, – even me – but there does come a time when we have to accept they’re not meant to be, and come back down to earth.’
Doris dipped her chin and dabbed her eyes. ‘At least you have the love and support of your family even if they are scattered,’ she said with a sniff. ‘Is it too much to ask the same from mine?’
Peggy didn’t know how to answer, for Doris had alienated her family with her overbearing ways, and would have to have a radical personality change for her family to trust her again. She played for time by pouring the last of the now tepid coffee into the cups.
‘I’ve learned over the years that if you love without boundaries, give of yourself without expecting anything in return, and keep silent when words will only do harm, those gifts will be returned to you threefold. Our loved ones are our mirror images, and we see in them what is in our own hearts.’
Doris stared at her. ‘Good grief,’ she said gruffly. ‘You sound as if you’re spouting from some trashy romance novel.’
Stung by her words, but determined not to show it, Peggy took her hand. ‘It may have come out that way, and I admit it was a bit airy-fairy, but I was simply trying to make you see that love, trust and an open heart have to be given before they can be earned – and I’m s
orry, Doris, but cutting remarks like that will not endear you to anyone.’
She held Doris’s hand tightly and regarded her evenly. ‘I know you don’t mean to be unkind, but sometimes you say things without stopping to think how hurtful or hectoring they might be. We’re none of us perfect, Doris – not even you – and it’s time you came to terms with that and tried to fit into the real world.’
Doris glowered and made to pull away, but Peggy maintained her grip, determined to make her listen. ‘You were given a harsh lesson all those years ago, but over time you seem to have forgotten it. Trying to be something you’re not only leads to disappointment – even humiliation – and yet you still ride roughshod over my sensibilities, and persist in currying favour with that Chumley woman and her cronies.’
She noted the storm gathering in Doris’s expression and hurried on. ‘Lady Chumley was born above her father’s shop in the High Street, and got lucky when her dubious husband was knighted for making a fortune out of manufacturing and selling guns and ammunition during the first shout.’
Doris was about to protest, but Peggy talked on, determined to make her point. ‘She’s not the grand lady she’d like us to believe she is; neither is she your friend. Look how she and the others snubbed you when you were going through that painful scandal and divorce – and how they gossiped and sniggered behind your back as you ran about after them doing all the hard work for their charities. It’s a repeat of what happened to you back in London, and that missing invitation was a clear message, Doris. I hope you still have enough pride to walk away from the lot of them.’
Doris finally reclaimed her hand, but her fingers shook as she opened the cigarette case. ‘You don’t mince your words, do you?’ she muttered.
‘I prefer to speak plainly so there are no misunderstandings,’ said Peggy. ‘I’m sorry if that upsets you, but I needed to say what I’ve felt for a long time. That woman is no more than a jumped-up snob who enjoys playing the grand lady and lording it over everyone. She’s not a role model. She’s poison. And I’ve hated seeing her treat you so badly when you really don’t deserve it.’
Doris blew a stream of smoke to the ceiling and managed a weak smile. ‘Thanks, Peggy. I do appreciate all you’ve said, and of course I’ve known for a while what she’s really like – I just didn’t want to believe I’d been foolish enough to make the same mistake again.’
She fell silent for a moment. ‘But how do I put things right with Anthony? Now he’s tied to that Susan I’ve lost him, and I so wanted to be a part of my grandson’s life.’
Peggy swallowed a swift retort, for she’d come to love Suzy when she’d lived with her as an evacuee, and Doris’s attitude to her made Peggy cross. ‘You haven’t really lost him,’ she said with more calm than she felt. ‘He’ll always be your son. But he has a wife and baby now, and his focus has to be on them.’
Peggy abandoned the cold, bitter coffee and sighed. ‘I’ve yet to go through all that with my boys, but the time will come. I’m sure I’ll like the girls they choose, and will do my very best to make them feel part of the family – but I’ll still have to step back and watch from the sidelines until they ask for help or advice.’
She smiled fondly as she thought of Anne. ‘It’s different with daughters, thank goodness. They still need their mothers, and as they have children of their own, the relationship strengthens between them even if they are far from home.’
‘I would have liked a daughter,’ said Doris wistfully. ‘But after Anthony was born, it wasn’t possible to have another baby – not like you, who managed to get pregnant at the drop of a hat.’
Peggy bit her lip to hide her smile, for it was the drop of Jim’s trousers – not his hat – that had caused all the babies. ‘Then why don’t you think of Suzie as a daughter instead of someone who stole your son? She’s a lovely, sweet girl, and I’m sure she’d leap at the chance to be friends.’
‘I don’t know,’ murmured Doris. ‘She wasn’t what I wanted for Anthony, and although she comes from a good family and is pleasant enough, she rubs me up the wrong way.’
Peggy chuckled at the memory of Suzy’s fury and frustration over Doris’s overbearing interference during the wedding preparations. ‘I suspect you both got on each other’s nerves during those weeks before the wedding, but it’s a stressful time for everyone, and allowances must be made.’
She patted Doris’s arm. ‘I think it would be nice if you wrote to Suzy, without mentioning Christmas, Ted’s earlier visit, or offering any advice, but to ask how she’s coping. She’s probably feeling a bit isolated now she can’t go back to her nursing, and is stuck at home all day with a baby in a town full of strangers.’
Doris gave this idea some thought before answering. ‘I suppose if I’m not to lose my grandson completely I’ll have to make the effort,’ she said. ‘But it won’t be easy.’
That didn’t sound too hopeful to Peggy, but at least it was a tentative beginning. ‘The more you try the easier it will get,’ she said. ‘A smile or a kind word goes a long way, and Suzy will appreciate your letter, you’ll see.’
Doris didn’t look totally convinced. ‘I can only hope you’re right,’ she muttered. She looked across at Peggy who was reaching for her coat. ‘Thank you for listening to my woes. I know they’ll go no further.’
Peggy stood and fastened her shabby coat before wrapping the scruffy bit of moth-eaten fur around her neck, both of which elicited a horrified glare from her sister, which she chose to ignore. ‘I’ve already promised, Doris,’ she reminded her. ‘And in return, I’d be grateful if you could treat my family with a kinder eye and softer tongue from now on. Some of your observations can be very hurtful, you know.’
Doris nodded. ‘I’ll do my best to remember that.’
They walked along the hall to the front door. ‘I hope this has cleared the air between us,’ Peggy said fervently. ‘You’re my sister and I love you. Please don’t let’s fall out again.’
‘We seem to have got into the habit of doing that, haven’t we?’ sighed Doris. ‘I’d be glad of a truce, to be honest.’
Peggy flung her arms round her and gave her a hug. ‘A truce it is,’ she said delightedly. ‘Now I must run. I’ve left Daisy with Cordelia and Ron for far too long, and I dread to think what the state of my kitchen might be.’
The kitchen was a shambles with the wireless turned up to full volume, toys littering the floor and the contents of Cordelia’s knitting bag strewn across the table and high chair. Daisy’s face was smeared with parsnip goo and coal dust from where she’d explored the depths of the scuttle; Ron looked as if he’d been pulled through a hedge backwards, and Cordelia was jigging about to the dance music as Queenie and Harvey sought safety beneath the table.
Peggy stood in the doorway, her heart full. Compared to Doris’s pristine and expensively furnished house it looked worn out and battered into submission. But this was home – the centre of her own small world – and she wouldn’t change it one little bit.
26
Coombe Farm
It was halfway through January and Carol and the other girls had spent the last few hours in the freezing cold wind and driving rain helping Jack Burnley tether down the giant haystacks which had been damaged by the harsh weather. She’d lost all feeling in her hands and toes and was soaked to the skin despite her raincoat and wellingtons, but the long day was not yet over, for there was still the milking to do and the yard to be hosed down and swept clean.
The four girls trudged miserably across the muddy field towards the farmhouse as Nipper darted back and forth to retrieve the stick Jack Burnley was throwing for him. ‘I dunno where that dog gets so much energy,’ said Maisie. ‘He’s been on the go all day.’
Carol smiled despite her discomfort as she watched the little terrier bound back eagerly with the stick, dropping it at Jack’s feet and bouncing about in anticipation of going to fetch it again. ‘He’s leaner and fitter and acting half his age,’ she replied. ‘Poor old Mrs Ra
yner wouldn’t recognise him now.’
‘Old Ma Burnley seems to ’ave taken to ’im as much as Jack,’ muttered Ida. ‘I wish she were ’alf as nice to us as she is to ’im.’
‘Yeah,’ grumbled Maisie. ‘I saw her giving ’im some scraps this morning, and I can’t remember the last time we had bacon.’
They’d just reached the cobbled yard when there was a volley of gunfire swiftly followed by a series of dull booms which resounded through the valleys and along the hills. ‘They’re blowing things up again,’ said Pru. ‘I wonder what it was this time.’
‘I wish we ’ad some decent binoculars so we could ’ave a proper butcher’s at what’s going on down there,’ said Ida. ‘Those old ones of Jack’s are worse than useless.’
‘It’s at times like these that we need Grandad Ron,’ said Carol wistfully. ‘He’d know where to put his hands on some.’
‘We wouldn’t see much even if we did have them,’ said Maisie. ‘The bay’s shrouded in thick cloud and the teeming rain’s as good as a curtain.’
‘I’m amazed they don’t shoot each other,’ said Carol fretfully as yet more shells were fired and the gunfire increased. ‘I hope Brendon isn’t stuck in the middle of it all.’
‘I expect he’s out on the water, nursemaiding all them seasick Yanks.’ Ida grimaced, hosing the thick mud from her wellingtons. ‘I ’eard tell from the boys in the pub the other night that they come off them tank transport carriers as green as peas.’
‘What’s more worrying is the fact that most of them can’t swim,’ said Carol, stamping her feet to try and get warm as she waited her turn at the hosepipe. ‘Brendon said he was going to speak to his CO about giving them all lessons, but doesn’t hold out much hope with the sea being so rough and cold.’
Carol finally got her boots clean and hurried into their billet to strip off her sodden coat and hat and warm herself at the woodstove. Nipper was already stretched out in front of it, steaming quite happily.