by Ellie Dean
Doris arrived promptly at Beach View armed with a bright smile and a large box. She placed the box on the hall chair while they tentatively hugged, and then began to unfasten her beautiful fur coat.
‘I hope you like what I’ve brought you,’ she said, handing the box to a curious Peggy. ‘They aren’t new, I’m afraid, but they’re in good condition, with plenty of wear in them if you look after them properly.’
Peggy was always pleased with her sister’s cast-offs, for they were usually beautifully made and lasted far longer than the cheap things she cobbled together or bought from a market stall. And yet today she was reluctant to open the box, for she wasn’t sure if it was a peace offering, or her sister’s way of showing how well off she was to discard her expensive things so easily.
It was as if Doris had read her mind, for she smiled and patted Peggy’s hand. ‘It’s by way of a peace offering,’ she said with unusual shyness. ‘I have so many lovely things, and I noticed the other day … Well, you’ll see what I mean when you open the box.’
‘You don’t need to give me anything, Doris,’ protested Peggy.
‘I know that. But I wanted to, so please don’t make a fuss.’
Peggy untied the string, eased the lid off the big box and gasped. ‘But this is far too generous, Doris,’ she managed as she touched the soft mink collar and felt the expensive texture of the navy blue overcoat that nestled within the tissue paper. ‘As wonderful as they are, they’re much too posh for me, and I’d be afraid to wear them in case I spoiled them.’
‘Don’t be silly, Peggy,’ said Doris bossily. ‘A coat is a coat, a fur a fur, and in this freezing weather it’s being practical.’ She shook out the coat and held it up. ‘Come along now, put it on and see how it fits.’
Feeling a bit like a child at Christmas, Peggy slipped her arms into the sleeves and felt the weight of the good woollen fabric settle around her, and the slither of the silk lining. It was a little long, and perhaps a size too big, but a bit of tailoring would see to that.
She stood still as Doris fastened the three big buttons down the front and then wrapped the mink round her neck. Feeling the downy softness of the light brown fur caressing her jaw, she couldn’t resist tracing her fingers through it. ‘Oh, Doris,’ she breathed, ‘it’s lovely – so lovely, but really, you shouldn’t have.’
‘I have three overcoats and two full-length minks,’ she said firmly, ‘and having seen the state of your coat and that ratty collar you will persist in wearing, I knew I had to do something.’ She squeezed Peggy’s hand. ‘I just want you to be warm and cosy, Peggy, and to share in the better things that I’m so fortunate to have.’
Peggy was close to tears as she hugged Doris. ‘Thank you, thank you. I will treasure them always,’ she breathed.
Doris gently disentangled herself from the embrace, her face flushed, her eyes suspiciously bright. ‘Enough of all this nonsense,’ she said briskly to hide her emotional state. ‘I’m gasping for a cuppa, and I’ve got lots to tell you.’
‘It’ll have to be in the kitchen, I’m afraid,’ said a flustered Peggy who was still finding it hard to get used to this new, sweet Doris.
‘That’s fine by me,’ she replied. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on while you take a look at yourself in your bedroom mirror.’ She grinned quite girlishly. ‘I think you’ll be surprised at how well those suit you.’
Rather bewildered, Peggy watched her sister stride into her kitchen, heard her greeting Cordelia pleasantly and making a fuss of Daisy. ‘Well, well,’ she muttered, going into her bedroom. ‘Who’d have thought it?’
Standing in front of the wardrobe-door mirror, she took in the image of this smart and rather glamorous Peggy. If she could get Fran to wash and set her hair, and do her nails, she’d look like a film star. She tried on the dark navy pumps Doris had given her the previous year, and perched her blue felt hat rakishly over one eye before turning to the photograph of Jim which she had on her bedside cabinet.
‘So, what do you think of the new me, Jim?’ she breathed.
He looked back at her, his roguish smile touching his lips and dancing in his very dark blue eyes, and she could almost hear him chuckling – telling her in that deep, lilting voice that she was lovely and he loved her – but preferred her naked beside him in their bed.
She blushed at the thought and carefully hung up the coat and placed the fur back into the box amid the tissue paper. Her poor old coat hung beside it looking very forlorn, but she would still use it for everyday and keep the new one for best, she decided. Though where on earth she could wear such finery she had no idea.
Doris and Cordelia were chatting quite pleasantly, and Daisy was leaning against Doris’s knee, gazing in awe at her sparkling diamond ring. The kettle had boiled and Doris had laid out cups and saucers, found the milk and sugar and provided a packet of biscuits.
‘Rich Tea,’ she explained. ‘I told Edward I was coming over to see you, and he gave them to me so we could have a little treat. He sends his regards, by the way – along with a packet of tea.’
Peggy smiled and sat down while Doris poured the dark brew into the cups, Daisy continued to be awed by the diamond, and Cordelia simply looked confused. She too was clearly finding it hard to accept this new, animated, friendly Doris, and wasn’t at all sure she could believe what she was seeing.
‘So, what news of everyone?’ asked Peggy after taking a sip of the delicious tea.
‘As you know, I’ve been writing to Susan on a regular basis, and I must say her letters are very amusing, as well as being well written. I do believe that girl has hidden depths.’
Peggy was well aware of Suzie’s talents and remained silent, just glad that Doris had followed her advice and made the effort to be friends.
Doris was flushed with pleasure. ‘She’s invited me to go and stay with them over Easter. Her parents will be away, so I’ll have the little family all to myself. Anthony has decorated the spare bedroom especially, and Susan found some lovely material for curtains and a counterpane. She sent me a snippet to show me before she made them, and I have to say, her taste is impeccable.’
It always was, thought Peggy. ‘How lovely,’ she murmured before Doris rattled on about the photographs they’d sent of baby Teddy, and how Susan was planning to show her around the village, and take her to the nearby town to shop. There would be walks in parks, the feeding of ducks, an introduction to the other young mothers she’d come to know, and perhaps even a trip to the theatre if she could get tickets and organise a baby-sitter.
‘It sounds as if she’s making a real effort,’ said Peggy in delight. ‘I’m so glad for you, Doris.’
‘So am I,’ she replied, tickling Daisy under the chin and making the diamond sparkle for her in the sunlight that was streaming through the window. ‘Thank you for the advice, Peggy. I really am very grateful.’
Peggy had not raised the thorny subject of Lady Chumley and her horrid clique over the previous weeks, and she’d noticed that Doris avoided it too. There was hope yet that her sister had finally seen the error of her ways and had come down to earth.
The visit was over too soon for Peggy, but Doris never stayed for more than an hour, perhaps afraid of outstaying her welcome – or bumping into Ron.
‘I’ll treat you and Daisy to lunch at the British Restaurant next week,’ she said as she stood on the doorstep. ‘It will give you a chance to wear your new coat.’
Peggy hugged her fiercely. ‘It’s so lovely having you back in my life,’ she murmured.
Doris returned the hug and kissed Daisy who was straddling Peggy’s hip. ‘I’ve missed you too,’ she replied. ‘Now, I really must go. I’ve got things to do at home.’
Peggy stood on the doorstep with Daisy and watched her sister drive away, feeling contented and at peace until she remembered that she’d seen neither hide nor hair of Ron since this morning.
Her emotions were mixed as she closed the front door, for although she was grateful for his abse
nce during Doris’s visit – she was still not fully convinced the pair of them could behave decently to one another when in the same room – she was utterly furious with him for not getting on with the jobs he’d promised to start today.
‘Your grandad is in for a right earful when he does finally put in an appearance,’ she muttered to Daisy, who responded with a giggle. ‘He’s tried my patience once too often, and although you might think it funny, it’s no laughing matter.’
29
London
Dolly had been so rattled by that distressing encounter with Felix that she’d been finding it hard to concentrate on anything for more than a matter of minutes. As more than a month had passed since that day and there’d been no improvement in her distraction, she realised she was letting the side down by not giving her all to the men and women who relied on her. Upon waking this morning, she’d decided she had to go and see Hugh to demand some leave before she made a mistake that might jeopardise someone’s life.
‘With so much going on at the moment, it’s not really the right time,’ he said, lighting her cigarette and returning to his side of the desk. ‘But it is clear that something has been bothering you lately. Do you want to talk about it?’
Dolly shook her head. ‘It’s personal,’ she said quietly.
Hugh’s grey eyes regarded her with undisguised curiosity. ‘You’re not usually so reticent. This wouldn’t have something to do with whatever happened on Christmas Day, would it?’
Startled that he’d been so astute, she couldn’t quite meet his gaze. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m simply tired and distracted, and need some time to catch my breath and see my daughter.’
Hugh continued to watch her through the smoke of his Sobranie. ‘How long have we been friends, Dolly?’ he asked softly.
‘Since we were both in Paris,’ she replied. ‘Why, what’s that got to do with anything?’
He left the cigarette to burn in the ashtray and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. ‘Dolly, you may be a consummate actress, but I know you too well. Something happened that day at the embassy, and whatever it was has affected you deeply. Will you at least do me the honour of being honest with me?’
‘I’m sorry, Hugh, but I really can’t talk about it.’ She met his gaze finally. ‘And you’re right, something did happen – which is why I’m asking you to let me have some time away so I can recover.’
His tone sharpened. ‘He didn’t hurt you, did he?’
She blinked back at him, unable to answer.
‘I saw Felix coming out of that room, Dolly,’ he said. ‘And he looked very angry. When you emerged a while later making a great show of being your usual gay self, I could tell you were actually in a state of shock.’
It was almost a relief to discover he’d known all the time – but she wasn’t prepared to entirely share her troubles with him. ‘We had a very unpleasant row,’ she admitted, ‘and yes, I was in a bit of a state. But Felix is not the sort of man to raise his hand to a woman, so I was in no danger.’
She regarded him evenly. ‘What happened between us was all my fault. Now I need a bit of time to get over it. Will you grant me leave, so I can do that?’
His expression told her that he’d accepted she’d reveal no more, and knowing him as she did, he would capitulate. ‘I can’t give you very long,’ he said on a sigh. ‘Things are happening in France and it will soon be all hands on deck.’
He shuffled a few papers about on his desk. ‘It’s impossible to grant you enough time to go all the way to Devon – which I suspect is not really on your agenda – but Cliffehaven is doable as long as you leave me a contact telephone number should there be a flap on.’
Hugh was right, for she’d had no intentions of going to Devon – not with Felix down there. It was Pauline she wanted to see – and Peggy Reilly. ‘How long can I have?’
‘Three days.’ He rested his hands on the leather-topped desk. ‘And that is not negotiable, Dolly. I want you back here, clear-headed, by Monday morning.’
Dolly got to her feet, eager to be on the move. ‘Thank you, darling Hugh.’ She lightly kissed his fragrant cheek before dimpling at him and regarding him through her lashes. ‘And do you think I could possibly borrow a car from the pool?’
He rolled his eyes in exaggerated impatience, then signed a chit and handed it to her. ‘Please promise not to drive it as if you’re on a race track,’ he said wearily. ‘And do try to bring it back in one piece.’
She grabbed the chit before he could change his mind and stuffed it into her handbag. ‘You’re an absolute brick. And because you’ve been so very kind, I’ll try to bring you back a stick of rock,’ she said, scribbling down Peggy’s telephone number on his jotter.
He gave a delicate shudder. ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’
Dolly smiled, waggled goodbye with her fingers and hurried off to get packed and on her way. She was feeling much better already. Once she was clear of the chaos in London, the journey to Cliffehaven should take less than a couple of hours if she could wangle one of the more powerful cars from the dear little chap who was in charge of the car pool, and who made no secret of the fact he was rather smitten with her.
Dolly had nipped out to shop in Bond Street once she’d packed, and now there were two baskets of goodies on the back seat of the car. She’d made quite good time despite the fact that the only car in the pool had been the small black Austin with the recalcitrant heater. The chap in charge had been most apologetic – almost fawning in his eagerness to repair the heater – but she’d been in too much of a hurry to hang about waiting for him to tinker about under the bonnet, and had given him five bob as a tip to cheer him up.
This February day had been dreary since dawn, yet as she approached the coast it seemed to be brightening. She could see that the sun was still out, and it was almost spring-like. Unable to resist the view before her, she stopped the car in a layby on the brow of the hill and climbed out.
The wind was chill but not blustery, the sun sparkled on the water that was only slightly ruffled, and the white cliffs gleamed beneath the acres of wild grasses and gorse. Dolly took a deep, reviving breath of the salty air which reminded her of childhood, and the hours she’d spent alone on the beach just a bit further along the coast – hunting for crabs in rock pools, climbing the chalk cliffs in search of gulls’ eggs, and digging for lugworms which she sold to the local fishermen for a few pennies so she could buy ice cream or sweets.
And then, as she’d grown older, there were the school holidays in which she’d taken long bike rides across the lonely hills, with a sandwich and a bottle of pop in the wicker basket to keep her going as she wandered through the forests and waded in the icy streams to follow the eels.
Her gaze drifted over the town that nestled within the sheltering arms of the cliffs and sprawled up into the hills. Cliffehaven had been a favourite haunt during those years, and every time she returned, it was an affirmation of her ties to this little seaside town. For it was here that she’d first met Ronan Reilly – a gangling but sturdy youth who’d slowly become a strong, handsome man with a sharp, enquiring mind and a courage that never wavered. She was eleven when they’d met, and the instant rapport between them lasted to this day – and it was rather wonderful that his son had married her daughter, for it seemed fate was determined to keep them in each other’s lives.
There had never been anything between her and Ronan but friendship, for he’d understood and shared her need to escape the strictures of their lives, to stretch her wings, walk her own path, and absorb everything and anything. Over the ensuing years he’d taught her how to catch eels, to trap rabbits with net purses, and look after ferrets, and on one heady day he’d managed to persuade his father to let her go with them on the family fishing boat.
Dolly smiled at the memory, for she’d loved the wildness of the sea and the way the boat creaked and swayed beneath her feet – loved the shoals of silvery fish that came slithering from the
nets as they were hauled in, and the sharp snap and crack of the sails as they’d tacked for home. Sailing had become a passion after that, and she’d haunted the marinas hoping she would be taken on as crew so she could learn how to handle her own boat when she could afford to buy one.
Dolly shivered. Those memories evoked others – of sailing with Felix, spending long, lazy days of that wonderful summer in the south of France on deserted beaches soaking up the sun and making love beneath the stars during the sultry, velvet nights. If only … But there was no going back – not now – not ever. And she had only herself to blame for that.
Impatient with her thoughts, she climbed back into the little car, lit a cigarette and sped down the hill into Cliffehaven. She needed to see Peggy before she went to Tamarisk Bay, for once Pauline knew she was here there would be too many awkward questions to answer if she did it later.
The town had changed since the start of the war, and especially so since her last visit. She noted the new gaps in the terraced houses, the increased damage to the shops in the High Street, and the ugly expansion of the sprawling industrial estate where there had once been fields and little cottages beside the dairy. The Camden Road school was gone, along with the block of flats that had once overshadowed the playground, and as she drove across the junction to Beach View Terrace, she noted the new bomb site on the corner of Camden Road, the tarpaulin covering damaged roofs, the scars of bullets in walls and the blasted remains of the house at the end of Peggy’s cul-de-sac. That had not been a bomb but a gas explosion, and Dolly shivered at the thought of how close Peggy and her family had come to being killed.
Parking the car, she switched off the engine, checked her appearance in the mirror and retouched her lipstick. The house was so familiar, and so dear, and she was eager to be inside in the warmth and love that Peggy had imbued into every nook and cranny. There were almost twenty years between them, but they were friends and confidantes, and the age difference didn’t matter one jot to either of them.