by Ellie Dean
Felix nodded. ‘I’ll get the cooks to rustle up something so we can eat while we talk.’
Brendon looked pleased at that, no doubt relieved he wouldn’t be served the bully beef and over-boiled cabbage Felix knew formed the staple diet of the British servicemen. As the young man turned to the girl at his side, Felix saw the look of love on his face which was reflected in Betty’s eyes, and felt a pang of sorrow for their lost youth, and the dreams that could be shattered in an instant by this war.
‘I’m glad you and Brendon have met,’ said Carol. ‘He’s been at his wits’ end just lately, and it will be a relief to talk to someone who actually might listen.’
‘So you know what all that was about?’
Carol bit her lip. ‘Not really,’ she confessed. ‘Brendon doesn’t have a loose tongue, but he did mention his worries to me in passing.’
Felix could see she felt awkward at having said anything that might get her nephew into trouble, so closed off the conversation by drinking his cider and taking in his surroundings.
Brendon and Betty were now in a private huddle on the other side of the table, the noise was rising, and someone had started to play the battered old piano.
‘They’ll start singing soon,’ Carol said. ‘Then you won’t be able to hear yourself think.’
‘I like a good singalong,’ he replied.
Carol laughed. ‘Not this one you won’t, General. Most of them are tone deaf.’
‘Before they get going, I’d like it if we could be on less formal terms,’ he said. ‘My name is Felix.’
The dimple appeared again. ‘And mine’s Carol. I look forward to getting to know you better, Felix.’
‘Likewise,’ he replied. They clinked glasses to seal the agreement, just as a few tuneless voices began to murder ‘Danny Boy’.
Felix winced. ‘Oh, boy. I see what you mean. They must be a different crowd to last night – those guys were at least in tune.’
Carol was about to reply when the pub erupted into another, jollier song, accompanied by stamping feet, the piano, a banjo and the beat of hands on the bar. She smiled back at him and gave a helpless shrug before joining in with gusto.
Felix realised in frustration that further conversation would be impossible now, but he’d warmed to this quiet English girl who was less sophisticated and worldly-wise than her mother, but nevertheless showed signs of possessing her steel. It would be most interesting to get to know her better, for he suspected there was far more to learn about Carol Porter – and perhaps, through her, he’d unravel the mystery that was Dolly.
Carol was aware of him watching her, and wondered if her name had come up in that clearly distressing exchange between him and Dolly. She’d seen the shock in his eyes at their first encounter, so knew that her similarity to her mother had not gone unnoticed – and yet he’d said nothing about knowing Dolly even when she’d mentioned the thing about pubs and decent girls, hoping he’d react and open up.
It was all very odd, but since he seemed as keen as she was to further this fledgling friendship, there would be other opportunities to learn more about him. She sipped the cool cider, enjoying its sweetness as the singing carried on and Brendon and Betty shared shy smiles and brief moments of eye contact. It was a good thing Ken was living several miles away, she thought, and therefore unlikely to suddenly appear, for if he could see Betty now, there would be ructions.
She gave a little sigh of pleasure at this burgeoning romance, and although it had echoes of how she and David had been, it didn’t sadden her. She’d meant what she’d said to Ida earlier, for David had been all she’d ever needed, and even though he was gone, he’d left only happy memories to keep her company.
The singing came to a halt while glasses were recharged and dry throats eased. ‘Do they have pubs like this in America?’ she asked Felix.
‘Only bars,’ he replied, ‘and they’re mostly pretty roughneck kinda places no real lady would dare to go in. But we do have cocktail lounges, country clubs and discreet drinking clubs.’
‘Everything looks very glamorous on the films,’ said Carol. ‘Are the houses really that big?’
He chuckled. ‘Hollywood is a dream world where everything is made bigger and far more glamorous than any real American can hope for. I wouldn’t set too much store by what you see in the movies.’
She felt the blush heat her face. ‘I see,’ she murmured, feeling gauche.
His very blue eyes twinkled as he continued to smile. ‘We all need some fantasy to take us out of this dark, cruel world, and Hollywood gives us the chance to escape once in a while – so although it’s brash and gaudy, and nothing like real life, it’s doing a darn good job, wouldn’t you say?’
She nodded and shot him a shy smile. ‘Betty and I love the musicals the best. They’re so gay we sing all the way home in the car. It’s probably the most frightful racket, but we don’t care.’
Felix grinned. ‘My late wife enjoyed them too, whereas I prefer the westerns.’ He gave a deprecating shrug. ‘I saw Gary Cooper in The Virginian and was hooked from then on.’ He shifted in his chair so he could regard her more closely. ‘Would you consider letting me take you to the movies, Carol?’
She blinked in surprise. ‘Well, I don’t know,’ she said hesitantly.
‘It wouldn’t be a date or anything,’ he said hastily. ‘I’m a bit long in the tooth for dates, and of course the invitation includes Betty.’
She giggled. ‘That would be very nice. But don’t you have other, more pressing things to do than sloping off to the pictures?’
‘Well, yes,’ he admitted. ‘But I’m free most evenings unless there’s some problem I have to deal with.’
She regarded him thoughtfully and then nodded and smiled. ‘We’d both be delighted,’ she said.
‘That’s great. And after the movie, perhaps we could all have dinner. I know a cute little bistro in Kingsbridge that somehow manages to serve the best roast lamb I ever tasted.’
Carol was about to reply when the singing started up again, so she merely nodded. He was as Ida had said, charming, handsome and delightfully boyish despite the silver hair and rather attractive lines on his face that crinkled at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. But as attractive as he was, the spark between them was not sensual, but of friendship and shared interest in the link they had with Dolly. What her mother would say about this new alliance Carol couldn’t tell, but just to be on the safe side, she wouldn’t mention it in her future letters.
28
Cliffehaven
‘I admit that it’s a rather shocking thing to say,’ shouted Peggy above the thunder of enemy bombers passing overhead, ‘but it really does feel quite exciting now something is happening again after those long months of nothing.’
‘I know what you mean,’ replied Rita, who’d earlier managed to snatch a couple of hours with her young man Matthew Champion before he flew out on yet another night mission over Germany. She huddled into her World War I fleece-lined flying jacket and buried her gloved hands in her pockets. ‘It’s been much too quiet – almost lulling us into believing that Jerry has simply packed up and gone home.’
‘That’s because our boys have shot down all their planes and bombed their aircraft factories,’ Ron put in. He was rocking Daisy in his arms in an attempt to get her back to sleep. ‘Still, it’s not over yet, by a long chalk. You mark my words.’
‘Well, they found planes from somewhere,’ said Peggy as the sound of the enemy bombers made the damp metal walls of the Anderson shelter reverberate. ‘And it’s quite like old times with all the sirens going off throughout the day and night. This is the third alert today, so they obviously mean business.’
‘They’re retaliating for our raids on Berlin,’ said Ron solemnly. ‘And what with the Russians advancing into Poland, the relief of the nine-hundred-day siege in Leningrad and the Allied advances into Italy, to be sure we have Hitler on the run. And he knows that the best form of defence is attack.’
‘You’re not alone in worrying, love,’ sighed Peggy. ‘We all have concerns for all the brave boys who’re risking their lives for us.’ She pulled little Rita into her embrace until the curly dark head nestled into her neck and she felt her begin to relax. ‘At least your dad is safe and not mixed up in the fighting,’ she murmured. ‘How is he, by the way?’
‘He’s trying to get some long enough leave to come for a visit, but with all the talk of an Allied invasion into France, and the renewed enemy raids, I’m not too hopeful.’
Silence fell in the dank Anderson shelter, the only light coming from a row of candles flickering in saucers. There was no oil or wicks in the shops for the lamps which still hung from the roof, and no kerosene for the heater either; consequently, they were all wrapped up like Eskimos, yet the chill seemed to still seep into their bones. There had been a debate as to whether they should just risk staying indoors, but as it soon became clear that this would be a prolonged enemy raid, they’d reluctantly braved the bitter early February night for the dubious pleasures of the odorous shelter.
Peggy continued to hold Rita as Ron tried to persuade Daisy it really was time for her to go back to sleep, and Harvey snoozed beneath the bench, with Queenie curled up against his belly. Cordelia was gently snoring amid her phalanx of stabilising pillows in the deckchair that had been wedged into the corner. Cordelia was lucky, Peggy thought wearily, for once her hearing aid was switched off she could fall asleep like a baby, undisturbed by even the loudest noise.
Weary to the core from a succession of sleepless nights, Peggy gave a vast yawn. It was almost four in the morning, and the all-clear couldn’t come soon enough, for she had a busy day ahead, and Doris had promised to come for a cup of tea that afternoon.
‘I hope you’ve remembered that Doris is coming over today,’ she said to Ron.
‘It’d be hard to forget,’ he muttered with a glower.
‘Please be nice to her,’ she begged. ‘This truce between us is barely a month old and still very fragile. I really don’t want anything to spoil it.’
Ron nodded with reluctance. ‘To be sure I’ll be on me best behaviour,’ he promised, ‘but I’m wondering how long it will be before she reverts to her old self. Leopards don’t change their spots, and that old cat has sharp claws.’
‘Oh, Ron,’ she sighed fretfully. ‘She’s making such an effort; surely you’re a big enough man to let bygones be bygones.’
‘Aye, well, we’ll see how things go,’ he replied.
Peggy had to accept that things would always be difficult between Ron and her sister. She let her thoughts drift to the pile of laundry awaiting her in the scullery, the need to wash the hall floor and tidy the kitchen before Doris arrived – and the rather alarming damp patch she’d watched spread across the bathroom ceiling and behind the shelves under the kitchen sink.
‘I’ll need you to go up into the attic today,’ she said to Ron once he’d settled sleeping Daisy in her cocoon of blankets. ‘That damp patch is getting worse, and I live in dread of the ceiling coming down on me while I’m in the bath.’
‘Ach, there’s no need to fuss, Peggy girl,’ he drawled. ‘All the jobs around the house will be done eventually – but with Jerry on the attack again, it will most likely be a pointless exercise.’
‘If that ceiling caves in it will be twice as expensive to fix it,’ she replied firmly. ‘I want you up there today to see what’s going on. And while you’re at it, you need to look under the kitchen sink. I think there’s a leaking pipe.’
‘Ach, to be sure me moving shrapnel’s the very divil today,’ he groaned, rubbing his hand over his lower back to emphasise the point. ‘’Tis the cold and damp in this shelter that doesn’t agree with me. But I’ll do me best, Peggy. Honest I will.’
‘I’ve heard that before,’ she retorted dryly. ‘But if you don’t do something soon the whole house will collapse about our ears.’
‘You are a one for the exaggeration, aren’t you?’ he said with a twinkle in his eyes.
‘And you’re a one for procrastination,’ she fired back. ‘If you don’t sort things out, then I’ll have to get a man in who will.’
‘Oh, aye?’ He raised his shaggy brows. ‘And how are you expecting to find such a man, let alone the money to pay him?’
‘I’ll find a way,’ she said defiantly, even though she had no idea how.
‘Well, good luck to you, wee girl,’ he said through a vast yawn. ‘But why pay someone when you have me to look after things?’
‘Because you don’t, do you?’ she retorted in exasperation. ‘You’re always too busy helping Rosie at the pub, going on some daft manoeuvres with Dad’s Army, or sneaking off with Frank to do mischief.’ She folded her arms, furious with him, but too tired to carry on arguing when she knew she’d never win.
‘To be sure, Peggy, there’s a war on. Every man is needed to do his bit, and I can’t be at your beck and call all the time.’ With that, he closed his eyes and was snoring on his next breath.
Peggy could have hit him, but she simply didn’t have the energy.
The all-clear finally went at five o’clock, and after Rita had carried in the air-raid box, pillows and blankets, she scampered off to the fire station to see if she was needed. With Daisy still asleep over her shoulder, Peggy hurried indoors and tucked her into her cot without removing the layers of clothes she was wrapped in. Hopefully she would sleep for another hour or two, and not wake in a foul mood after so many disturbed nights.
Looking down at her little girl’s sweet face, she softly kissed her cheek before taking off her own woolly hat and gloves, and trudging back to the kitchen in her overcoat to stoke the range fire back into life so she could boil the kettle for tea.
Ron appeared with Harvey and Queenie at his heels and a clearly out-of-sorts Cordelia cradled in his sturdy arms.
‘Put me down and stop showing off,’ the old woman said crossly, fumbling to adjust the volume on her hearing aid. ‘I’m perfectly capable of walking.’
Ron grinned down at her as he gently deposited her in the chair by the range. ‘To be sure it’s easier and quicker to carry you,’ he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘We’d both freeze to death at the rate you hobble along.’
‘What did you say?’ she demanded, still fumbling with her hearing aid. ‘Do stop muttering, Ron. It’s most impolite.’
Ron just chuckled, and turned his attention to feeding the animals.
Peggy made the pot of tea and began to heat the large saucepan of porridge. The other girls would be home soon, starving hungry, cold and tired after yet another long night, and the porridge and tea would warm and comfort them before they had to go out again to work. She had no doubt the three of them would have found shelter during the raid, for the hotel hosting last night’s dance had a vast basement shelter – so at least that was one worry less.
Setting the pot of tea on the table and hunting out cups, she had to step around Ron who was fussing over the animals’ feeding bowls. ‘While you’re by the sink you can have a look at that leak,’ she said, more in hope than expectation.
Ron blew out his cheeks and rather grumpily pulled back the curtain that hid the shelves stacked with cleaning materials, and peered briefly into the gloom. ‘To be sure I can’t see a thing,’ he muttered.
Peggy swiftly handed him the torch from the air-raid box on the drainer. ‘That should help,’ she said firmly.
He gave a deep sigh, clutched at his back and groaned as he went onto his knees to inspect the state of things beneath the sink. Grumbling under his breath, he flashed the torch back and forth, stuck a finger under the U-bend, poked at the shelving and the wall behind the pipes and then muttered even more crossly.
‘Well?’ Peggy folded her arms as his torso emerged from beneath the sink and he made a great show of how stiff and sore his back was.
‘Aye, there’s a leak,’ he replied, reaching for his cup of tea. ‘I’ll fix it later.’
Peggy eyed him sternly. ‘That better mean later today – not later in the week, or later this month or this year,’ she said.
‘Well, I have a few wee things to do first, but I’ll tackle it soon enough, so don’t be fretting that pretty head of yours.’ He gulped down the piping-hot tea and edged towards the door. ‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ he said, and promptly disappeared down the steps and out of the house, Harvey chasing after him.
‘There are times when I could kill that man,’ hissed Peggy, venting her fury on stirring the porridge with unnecessary vigour.
‘You’d have to join the queue,’ said Cordelia, taking the wooden spoon from her and pressing her into a chair. ‘And if he doesn’t sort things out, then I’m sure we can all chip in to pay a proper plumber. Ron might think he knows it all, but he’s a bit of a bodger, and pipes and leaks need to be handled professionally.’
Peggy’s frustration and weariness brought tears to her eyes. ‘That’s very kind of you, Cordelia, but house repairs aren’t your responsibility. I’ll sort something out, never you mind.’
Cordelia shifted the pan of porridge away from the heat and sat down next to Peggy. ‘I know you’re struggling, dear,’ she said softly. ‘But you really must learn to let others help you. You can’t do it all on your own.’
Peggy gently enfolded the gnarled hand in her own and shot her a watery smile. ‘Thank you, Cordy, that’s very sweet of you. But with more money coming through from Jim, I’m sure there’ll be enough to get the more urgent repairs done.’
She kissed Cordelia’s cheek, and quickly left the table to see to the porridge before she made a fool of herself by bursting into tears. It seemed just lately that she was always on the brink of tears – but then it was hardly surprising with all the worry and the sleepless nights she’d had to endure.