Soldier's Daughter, The

by Goodwin, Rosie

  ‘But you will come back to eat with us, won’t you?’ Briony asked, reluctant to see them leave. ‘Howel brought a lovely leg of pork over this morning and I’ve made some apple sauce to go with it. There’s an apple pie to follow as well.’

  Ruth grinned. Briony knew that apple pie was her favourite. In fact, she’d often declared that she could live on it.

  ‘Try and keep me away,’ she laughed as she and Mrs Brindley headed for the door.

  ‘Can we go across to the farm wi’ ’em, Briony?’ Alfie asked and she nodded.

  ‘Yes, just so long as you promise to come back along the fields and not the cliff path.’ The children all scampered off in hot pursuit of the visitors and Briony glanced at the clock before hastily beginning to prepare the vegetables that would go with the pork. If her grandmother’s meal wasn’t served promptly at six o’clock there would be all hell to pay; the woman was very strict when it came to mealtimes. Not that Briony minded. She had the house running like clockwork now and it gleamed from top to bottom.

  The next few days passed in a blur, but all too soon it came to the day before the visitors were due to leave.

  ‘Why don’t you two young ones go into Poldak to the picture-house an’ ’ave a little time to yerselves tonight?’ Mrs Brindley suggested thoughtfully. ‘Me an’ Annik can’ watch the kids, an’ a break would do yer good.’

  Although it sounded very appealing Briony warned Ruth, ‘I think The Thief of Bagdad is showing at the moment – I noticed when I went to market the other day. Unfortunately the films are always at least a year behind Nuneaton here.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Ruth said cheerily. ‘I ain’t seen it anyway. In fact, I never go to the pictures since you moved down ’ere. It ain’t so much fun on yer own.’

  ‘She scarcely goes out at all,’ Mrs Brindley put in. ‘She just sits in waitin’ fer news of our Ernie an’ I’ve told ’er she’s too young to be doin’ nowt.’

  ‘So shall we set off then?’ Ruth asked hopefully and Briony nodded. The reference to Ruth waiting for Ernie had made her feel very guilty – but what could she do?

  Both girls really enjoyed the film, and when it was over they strolled back to The Heights arm in arm through the balmy night air.

  ‘You’d never believe there were a war goin’ on ’ere, would yer?’ Ruth commented. ‘It’s so lovely an’ peaceful. Not like back at ’ome.’ The smile slid from her face. ‘I suppose yer read about the air raids back in May? It were awful. They were aimin’ fer the munitions factories but they hit Coton Church and an ’undred people died that night. Another 380 lost their homes.’ Her face was full of despair as she remembered. ‘Makes yer think that this damn war is never goin’ to end, don’t it? I just worry about Ernie all the time. He could be anywhere right now, flying and being attacked by German planes.’

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ Briony assured her with a catch in her voice. He had to be because they clearly both loved him.

  They had almost reached the drive leading to The Heights when they heard the throb of an engine behind them and stepped to the side of the road. Seconds later, Sebastian’s car drew up beside them and the dreaded Marcus wound his window down and looked Ruth appreciatively up and down.

  Briony’s heart sank. She and Ruth had just spent a lovely evening together but now it looked like this idiot was going to try and spoil it.

  ‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he addressed Ruth as Briony stared at him scathingly. He knew better than to try it on with her again. ‘Would you like a lift?’

  ‘No, she wouldn’t!’ Briony said abruptly.

  ‘Hasn’t your little friend got a tongue then? Can’t she answer for herself?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got a tongue,’ Ruth said. ‘And no, I don’t wanna lift. Not wi’ the likes o’ you anyway, so why don’t yer just clear off!’

  Marcus looked shocked for a second but then shrugged. ‘Your loss, dearie,’ he answered like a petulant child that had had its sweeties snatched away. He then wound the window back up and the car screeched away in a cloud of dust.

  For a moment Ruth stared after him open-mouthed but then she grinned and said, ‘Crikey, ain’t ’e just one o’ the ugliest blokes you ever clapped eyes on?’

  And then before they knew it they began to laugh and they didn’t stop until they reached the kitchen.

  ‘Sounds like someone’s enjoyed theirselves,’ Mrs Brindley said from her seat at the side of the fire. Annik Dower was sitting opposite her and they were enjoying a good old natter and a jug of stout that Howel had fetched from the pub for them.

  ‘We had a wonderful time,’ Briony agreed. ‘Until we met Sebastian and one of his mates on the way back.’

  ‘Ah well, you just ignore them,’ Mrs Dower counselled. ‘I dare say His Lordship is just showing his face ’cos he wants some more money off Mrs Frasier. That’s all he normally comes back for nowadays.’

  Briony nodded as she went to fetch herself and Ruth a glass of lemonade. It was quite clear that the older women were happy with their stout, although goodness knew what state Mrs Dower would be in the next morning. As Briony had discovered in the time she had been there, the dear woman couldn’t hold her drink for toffee!

  She felt sad at the thought of their friends leaving the next day, but she knew that they would come to see her again whenever they could, and for now she would have to be content with that. All they had to do was get through the rest of the war and then who knew what life might have in store for all of them? One thing she was quite sure of – when it was all over, there was no way she would be staying in this house, for whilst it had offered them shelter it could never be home.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  December 1944

  As Mrs Brindley sat enjoying a cup of cocoa before retiring to bed the back door suddenly opened and Ernie appeared carrying his kitbag. She blinked and swiped her hand across her eyes, thinking she must be seeing things. But no, when she looked again he was still there, large as life, looking incredibly tired and limping badly.

  ‘Ernie!’ The cocoa went flying and splattered all across the rag rug as she flew out of the chair – and then she was hanging on to him as if she might never let him go, with tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘What are yer doin’ ’ere?’ she managed.

  ‘Well – what a welcome,’ he teased. ‘I can always go away again if yer want.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ she said joyously as she pressed him into a chair and started to fuss over him.

  ‘My plane took a hit over Amsterdam and I had to bail out into the North Sea,’ he explained, his face solemn now. ‘The old leg took a bit of a battering again but thankfully my parachute opened. My mate Chalky White wasn’t so lucky though.’ His eyes looked tormented as he remembered. ‘He was trapped in the cockpit and the plane went into the drink with him inside it. Luckily there was a British ship nearby and they fished me out before the cold got me and took me on board . . . but they didn’t find Chalky.’

  ‘Oh, lad.’ His mother could feel the pain coming off him in waves but couldn’t help being thankful that he at least had survived. It might have been so different.

  ‘But what about your leg?’

  ‘Oh, nothin’ too serious,’ he answered lightly. The RAF doc reckons it’ll be fine in a couple o’ weeks or so now. I’ve been in a hospital in Colchester fer the last two weeks, where they operated, but I asked if I could do the rest o’ me convalescing’ at ’ome, so the ambulance drove me up here: they were taking another bloke to Birmingham. But it means yer might ’ave to put up wi’ me till after Christmas.’

  Mrs Brindley was mortified to hear how close her son had come to death, while at the same time she was thrilled to have him home.

  ‘You just sit there an’ I’ll make yer a nice ’ot drink,’ she told him as she pottered away with a spring in her step. ‘We’ll ’ave some meat on yer bones again in no time.’

  He chuckled. ‘Yer make it sound like yer fattenin’ me up to ’ave fer Christmas di
nner, Mam.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think we’ll need to resort to that,’ she smiled. ‘Charlie never sees me short of a bit o’ meat or vegetables, bless ’im.’

  ‘Oh yes – an’ who’s this Charlie then?’ He was amused to see colour flood into her cheeks.

  ‘Yer know Charlie – Charlie Mannering? We used to go to school together an’ he’s been keepin’ his eye out fer me. Good as gold, ’e’s been.’

  ‘Hm!’ Ernie watched her flustering about with a twinkle in his eye. If he wasn’t very much mistaken his mam had a beau – and good luck to her. There was nothing could bring his father back, more was the pity, but if she could find happiness elsewhere, then so be it. She was too young to spend the rest of her life alone and grieving.

  The following evening as he was reading the newspaper with his leg propped up on a stool, the door opened and Ruth stood there. She blinked, much as his mother had done, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing, and then dropping the magazine she had brought for Martha, she closed the distance between them and flung her arms about him.

  ‘Oh, Ernie. I can’t believe you’re really here,’ she whispered incredulously.

  He in turn was shocked at the change in her. In fact, when she had first walked in he had barely recognised her. In the two years since he had last seen her, Ruth had grown up. The plump but rather plain girl he remembered had grown into a very attractive slim young woman with clear skin and shining eyes. She was wearing a light wool red coat that showed off her curves, and her fair hair had been cut into a very becoming bob that shone in the light of the fire.

  He held her hands and stared at her admiringly, saying, ‘Crikey, Ruth, you’ve turned into a bit of a stunner while I’ve been away.’

  She flushed prettily. ‘We all have to grow up sometime,’ she said and he could only nod in agreement as she pulled a chair up and sat as close to him as she could. Mrs Brindley had popped to the corner shop, and when she walked back in some minutes later she found the pair chatting away ten to the dozen. They had so much to catch up on.

  Placing her wicker basket on the table she said, ‘How’s that fer a turn-up fer the books then, eh, Ruth? Yer could ’ave knocked me down wi’ a feather when ’e strolled in last night.’

  Ruth nodded in agreement, her face alight.

  ‘Yes, and he tells me he’s going to be here till after Christmas. Perhaps even the New Year. It’s wonderful.’

  Mrs Brindley grinned as she left them to it and began to prepare the dinner. It looked as if she would be cooking for three tonight because she had a funny feeling Ruth wouldn’t be going far from Ernie.

  Turning from the safe, Sebastian glared at his mother. ‘Where has the money gone that was in here?’ he demanded.

  Marion Frasier shook her head. ‘It’s gone. I had to pay the Dowers their wages and some bills with it.’

  ‘So what am I supposed to do then?’ he snarled. ‘I’m leaving for London tonight and I need some cash to take with me.’

  She spread her hands helplessly. ‘I can’t help you, darling. The banks will be closed now and they won’t open again until Monday.’

  He slammed the safe door shut and leaning over her, he hissed, ‘You’re useless, Mother. Didn’t I tell you that you must always keep some cash to hand?’

  He began to pace the room as he pondered his predicament. He had to be in London by tomorrow night, and if he didn’t have the money he owed . . . He stopped his thoughts from going any further as he stormed out of the room in frustration. And then in the hall, an idea suddenly occurred to him and he took the stairs two at a time. His mother’s jewellery. The silly old bitch probably wouldn’t even miss it, the state she was in now, and it must be worth a King’s ransom.

  Once outside her room he paused to make sure that Briony wasn’t about. She cleaned the whole of the house now but thankfully there was no sign of her so he entered the room and closed the door quietly behind him. He saw the jewellery box on the dressing table straight away and headed for it like a bee to pollen. A number of rings were in the top tray and taking them out, he peered at them. There was the emerald ring that his father had bought for his mother following the birth of Lois. It was surrounded by diamonds and he knew it was valuable, as well as being one of his mother’s favourites. There was also a square-cut sapphire that his father had bought her to commemorate his birth, a diamond cluster ring and a ruby one with diamonds set either side of it. He pocketed them hastily and looked into the next tray but he was disappointed. The very expensive necklaces that he had been looking for weren’t there. His father had always nagged his wife to keep these very valuable pieces in the safe, but she had always worn them so much that she had preferred to keep them close at hand in her bedroom. But where would she have hidden them? He rummaged through the drawers and then at last he found them beneath her underwear; snatching them up, he began to empty them out of their velvet boxes onto the bed. He reasoned that the diamond one alone must be worth thousands. Once he had pocketed them too he replaced the boxes where he had found them. His mother was so forgetful now that she rarely wore them and when she did discover they were missing he would point the finger at that brat, Briony. Lastly, he scooped up her string of pearls from the bedside table.

  Happy again, he stole across the landing and once he got outside he leaped into his car, revved up and sped away without a backward glance.

  ‘Phew,’ Briony said to Howel on Christmas night after putting the children to bed. ‘I’ve had a wonderful day but I’m whacked now. Still, I know the children enjoyed it and the tea your mother laid on was wonderful. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat another thing for at least a week.’

  He smiled. He had given Sarah a piggy-back ride all the way to The Heights from the farm and had even helped Briony get the children ready for bed when they got home. But now he supposed he should be going.

  ‘I can’t believe Mabel’s mother didn’t send her anything for Christmas,’ he commented as his eyes fell on the children’s presents.

  ‘I know,’ Briony shrugged. ‘Between me and you, I’m getting really concerned about it now. We haven’t heard a thing since that first note she sent shortly after Mabel arrived here. In fact, I’ve written to the Red Cross to ask if they can get in touch with her. I’m beginning to fear that something might have happened to her. But then surely they would have let us know if it had?’

  ‘I would have thought so,’ Howel agreed as he headed for the door where he paused to say, ‘Night night, Briony.’

  ‘Goodnight, Howel.’ Once the door had closed behind him she frowned. Howel hadn’t seemed to be his usual cheery self lately and she wondered what was troubling him. But then she set about tidying the kitchen and didn’t think about it any more.

  ‘I shall be goin’ out wi’ Charlie tonight, son. Do you mind?’ Mrs Brindley asked Ernie on the afternoon of New Year’s Eve. ‘Madge Pinner in Webb Street is havin’ a bit of a party an’ you’re more than welcome to come. Sounds like it’s gonna be an open ’ouse to me.’

  ‘Thanks, but I won’t bother if yer don’t mind,’ Ernie answered, patting his leg. ‘This is just gettin’ right, an’ wi’ the frost on the pavements makin’ ’em like a skatin’ rink I wouldn’t wanna go me length an’ end up back at square one.’

  ‘Well, I dare say young Ruth will be round to keep yer company,’ Martha said, admiring her wash and set in the mirror. She’d been saving her clothes coupons for months and had treated herself to a new dress to wear, so she would be feeling like the bee’s knees this evening. She wasn’t at all guilty about leaving Ernie because he and Ruth had been getting on like a house on fire since he’d been home and now they were inseparable. Apart from going home to sleep and to work, the young woman had spent every minute at theirs so she had no fear that Ernie would be lonely. They might even enjoy a bit of time to themselves, she mused and hurried away to start getting ready. It was a bit early admittedly, but she wanted to look her best for Charlie. He really was very go
od to her and such a gentleman into the bargain.

  ‘Wow, you look a million dollars, Mam!’ Ernie said admiringly when she came downstairs.

  Martha Brindley flushed at the compliment. Until recently she had forgotten how nice it felt to dress up, and for the first time since losing her beloved Clal she was beginning to feel like a woman again. She noted that Ruth was already there. She had brought a bottle of port and some lemonade so that she and Ernie could toast the New Year in and she added her compliments to Ernie’s.

  ‘You really do look lovely, Mrs Brindley,’ she said and Martha beamed. But then there was a knock on the door and she got all flustered.

  ‘Oh dear, that’ll be Charlie. Let ’im in fer me, would yer, luvvie? I ain’t even got me coat on yet an’ I’ll be needin’ it. It’s enough to freeze the ’airs on a brass monkey out there.’

  Grinning, Ruth hurried away to let Mr Mannering in, noting that he too had gone to great pains with his appearance. He was wearing his Sunday best suit and his hair was flat to his head with Brylcreem. His eyes were openly admiring when he saw Mrs Brindley and he winked at Ernie.

  ‘I’ll tell yer what, young Ernie. I reckon I’ll ’ave the prettiest girl in the place on me arm tonight.’

  ‘Oh, get off wi’ yer, yer silly old sod,’ purred Mrs Brindley. ‘It’s some years since I’ve been referred to as a girl, or pretty fer that matter.’

  He held his arm out and she linked hers through it then they sailed off into the night as Ruth and Ernie laughed.

  ‘I hope you realise ’e’s got a real soft spot fer yer mam,’ Ruth warned him.

  ‘I gathered that,’ Ernie agreed, with a chuckle. ‘An’ yer know somethin’? I don’t mind at all. In fact it’s nice to see ’er ’appy again.’

  They then settled down to listen to a tribute to Glenn Miller on the wireless as Ruth made them both a port and lemon. Earlier in the month, Glenn Miller and two companions had set off on a routine flight to France where he was booked to play, never to be seen again. No distress call had been heard and no wreckage had been sighted. Ernie loved his music, ‘Moonlight Serenade’ and ‘In The Mood’ being amongst his favourites, and he thought it was a great pity that such a talent had been lost. But then so many lives had been cut short during the war. He took a long swallow of the drink Ruth handed him. He had been thinking of Briony all day and wondered if he might be able to get down to see her before he returned to his unit.