Keep Smiling Through (Beach View Boarding House 3)

by Ellie Dean

  Sylvia shook her head. ‘Sad, maybe, but not pointless, Louise. We must all make the best of things, and it does everyone good to let their hair down occasionally – especially the young.’ She saw Louise wasn’t convinced and shifted her chair a little closer. ‘Have you heard from the authorities yet?’

  ‘There’s still no word,’ Louise replied dolefully as she blinked away the ready tears. ‘It’s been five months now, and I’m beginning to believe I’ll never see them again.’ When there was no response from Sylvia, Louise blew her nose and heaved a deep sigh as if the cares of the world were on her shoulders.

  Sylvia remained silent as she watched this performance. Louise was as dramatic and emotional as any Italian, but then she’d been living amongst them all her married life, so it was hardly surprising. But she suspected Louise had used tears and emotional blackmail to get her way far too often, and although she felt deeply sorry for the woman, she wanted her to stop being so selfish and think about Rita for a change.

  Louise glanced at her and took a sip of tea. ‘Without my husband, it’s very hard to keep Rita safe, especially now we’re homeless,’ she said, her voice unsteady. ‘She’s a good girl, and has decided to give up her silly idea of working as a mechanic at the airfield because she knows her place is with me. But I’m afraid for her with so many foreigners about.’

  Sylvia shot a glance at the happily dancing Rita and felt a stab of fury. The poor girl had probably never stood a chance to realise her ambitions, not with Louise’s constant neediness. Now it seemed Louise was taking advantage of the girl’s devotion, determined to keep her hidden away and rob her of any kind of life.

  ‘Rita seems to have a good, sensible head on her shoulders,’ Sylvia replied tightly. ‘Let her make mistakes, stretch her wings and get a taste of life, Louise. They’re all a part of growing up – and she needs to be prepared to face what could be an uncertain future.’

  ‘Her future is not uncertain,’ Louise replied smugly. ‘She will marry Roberto and come to live with me and Tino. It’s my duty to protect her honour until Roberto comes home. My own parents were very careful with me, and it did me no harm.’

  Sylvia was of the opinion that it had done a great deal of harm, and that now Louise was passing it on to poor little Rita. The news that Louise planned to marry her off to her son simply made things worse, and Sylvia was deeply concerned for the girl. If something wasn’t done soon, Rita would find herself forever trapped in Louise’s soft, smothering web of need.

  Deciding she would give it some careful thought over the next few days, she willed herself back into a happier frame of mind, slid back her chair and stood to face Ron.

  ‘Now, Ron,’ she said gaily, ‘it’s your turn to lead me onto the dance floor, I think.’

  He glanced at Rosie and made a great show of reluctance. ‘To be sure, Rosie’s had me prancing about all afternoon and me feet are already killing me.’

  ‘Your aching feet are simply a reminder that you’re still alive,’ she retorted, ‘and I’m sure Rosie won’t mind me borrowing you for just one dance.’

  Rosie’s expression was unreadable, but the folded arms, the gleam in her eye and the tilt of her chin warned Sylvia not to overstep the mark.

  It had been a wonderful day, and although Rita wished it could have gone on until late into the night, she still felt the glow and the buzz of wine and music and the warmth of Chuck’s smile as they’d danced.

  She’d been aware of Louise’s disapproval, and she and Chuck had spent their time together on the other side of the room. When she and Louise had returned from Beach View, Rita had virtually flown up the stairs to their room to get changed, emboldened by the day and the happy atmosphere at Beach View.

  She closed her mind to all of Louise’s dire warnings and threats as she dragged on the thick trousers and boots and buttoned the heavy overcoat. But as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the dressing-table mirror, she realised why Louise had been berating her, for her eyes were shining, her cheeks were flushed and she seemed to be veiled in a soft glow that made her look almost pretty. It was obvious she was in the thrall of something very new and exciting.

  ‘I’ll be back at the end of my shift,’ she said, cutting into a long monologue of woeful and terrible things that had happened to young girls who’d had their heads turned by men in uniform. She bent to kiss Louise’s cheek. ‘Sleep well, Mamma.’

  Louise shot off the bed. ‘How can I sleep when I know you’ve arranged to meet that boy?’ she snapped. ‘And don’t deny that’s what you’ve planned, Rita Smith, because it’s written all over your face.’

  ‘I haven’t denied anything,’ she replied calmly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with spending time with someone whose company I happen to enjoy.’

  ‘You shouldn’t want other men’s company when you are promised to Roberto,’ Louise stormed.

  Rita stared at her in horror. ‘I’m not promised to anyone,’ she gasped. ‘And I’ll see who I like.’

  ‘Roberto is expecting you to wait for him – to keep yourself pure for him like I was for his Papa on our wedding day. I will not allow you to bring shame to this family.’

  Rita felt something cold crawl up her spine. ‘Roberto and I have no such understanding. We are not engaged, or even courting – and never likely to be, either. Why do you refuse to believe me?’

  Louise waved away her protest with a grimace. ‘You’re too young to take such decisions. It’s up to me and Tino to make sure you—’

  ‘It’s not up to either of you to rule my life,’ Rita stormed. ‘I don’t want to marry Roberto. I don’t love him – not in that way, and I need to have some experience of life and everything it has to offer before I even begin to think about marriage.’

  Louise shook her head mournfully. ‘You will learn soon enough that life does not always give the things it seems to promise. You will see that I’m right.’

  Rita took a deep breath. ‘I need to find that out for myself, not just take your word for it,’ she replied with as much calm as she could muster. ‘The world won’t end because Chuck and I are planning to sit together and pass the time while I’m on duty.’

  ‘I forbid it,’ Louise retorted. ‘Fraternising while on duty is against the rules. John Hicks will not allow it either.’

  Rita had had the same thought, but she snatched up her gas mask box and ugly tin hat and opened the door, determined to cross that bridge when she came to it. ‘Well, I’m going to see Chuck anyway,’ she said firmly. ‘He’s meeting me on the corner by the fire station.’ With that, she shut the door and was halfway down the stairs before she heard Louise yelling after her.

  Rita had never defied Louise before, and it was with a mixed sense of dread and excitement that she rode the Norton down the hill and headed for the fire station. There would be hell to pay when she got back to the billet, and it would be simply awful if Chuck wasn’t waiting for her.

  But he was standing on the pavement, his coat collar turned up against the cold, his hands cupping the flame as he lit a cigarette. ‘Hi there,’ he said softly.

  She ripped off the goggles and helmet and shook out her hair, hoping she didn’t look too much of a fright. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind sitting about for hours?’ she asked hesitantly, ‘only it can get pretty boring.’

  He grinned back at her. ‘I’m sure we’ll find something to talk about.’

  Rita let him wheel the Norton along the pavement as she walked beside him. He was tall and broad-shouldered and very handsome, and she still couldn’t quite believe he wanted to spend this cold, foggy Christmas night with her.

  All was quiet at the fire station and John Hicks was busy doing an inventory of the supplies when they walked through the door. He smiled at Rita, shot a questioning glance at Chuck and set the clipboard aside as Rita launched into a garbled explanation of why the American was with her, and why he should be allowed to stay.

  Rita finally ran out of breath and looked at him hopefully.
/>   ‘You know visitors aren’t permitted, Rita,’ he said quietly.

  Hope plummeted.

  John picked up the clipboard and flicked through the sheets of paper, his chin down so she couldn’t see his expression. ‘The fog’s closed right in and Gerry’s staying home, so you’d better make the most of a night off,’ he said.

  Hope was alive again. ‘A night off? Really?’

  He looked at them both and grinned. ‘That’s what I said. Now, go on, get out of here before I change my mind.’

  Rita grinned up at him, grabbed Chuck’s arm and almost dragged him out of the fire station.

  ‘By the way, Rita,’ called John, ‘if the siren goes I want you back here pronto – and without the Yank.’

  ‘Will do,’ she called back, hastily putting on her leather helmet and goggles. ‘He wasn’t being personal, Chuck,’ she explained as she kicked the bike into life. ‘But there are rules.’

  The Norton dipped as Chuck settled on the seat behind her. ‘That’s okay,’ he said lightly. ‘So, Rita, where are you taking me?’

  Rita had to think quickly. ‘The pubs will probably be shut tonight, but I’m sure we could find a nice warm hotel bar to sit in – as long as you don’t mind being seen with me in this get-up.’

  He shifted on the seat until he was leaning against her back, his arms sliding round her waist. ‘Lead on, Rita. I’m all yours.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  IT WAS THREE days after Christmas and Peggy was fighting back the tears as Charlie clung to her waist and buried his head in the folds of her coat. She’d been dreading this moment, for she’d known their parting would be far more painful the second time round.

  ‘Will you be coming back soon?’ asked Charlie, his voice muffled.

  ‘I can’t say,’ she murmured, ruffling his hair through her fingers and sinking her lips into it. ‘But I’ll try, Charlie. Really I will.’

  ‘Why can’t we come home with you, Mum?’

  Peggy looked at Bob, who was a solemn bystander fighting his own battle to appear stoic. He put his hand on his young brother’s shoulder, his voice breaking a little. ‘Mum’s already explained,’ he said. ‘Don’t keep badgering her, Charlie. Can’t you see you’re making her upset?’

  ‘But I . . . I . . .’

  Bob put his arm round them both, the tremble in his young arms the only sign of how much this was affecting him too. ‘It’s all right, Charlie, really it is,’ he murmured. ‘We’ll go home when the war’s over, you’ll see, but for now we have to stay here.’

  He drew away and eased Charlie’s grip from their mother’s coat, making him turn to look at him. ‘But it’s nice here, isn’t it? We have lots of fun with Ernie, and Bess is about to have her puppies. You don’t want to miss that, do you?’

  Peggy was overwhelmed by her son’s understanding of the situation, and the love he so clearly had for his little brother. She blew her nose and tried to pull herself together. ‘Puppies,’ she breathed. ‘How lovely, Charlie. You certainly don’t want to miss out on them, do you?’

  He looked up at her, his little face blotched with tears. ‘Puppies are all right,’ he said, trying desperately not to show how much he was being torn. ‘But I miss Dad and Grandpa and Harvey.’ He gave a hearty sniff and dashed his tears away with his sleeve. Being brave and grown-up like his big brother was terribly hard.

  ‘We all miss you too – both of you.’ It took all of Peggy’s determination to stem her own tears.

  He slipped his grubby little hand into hers and looked at her trustingly. ‘Don’t be sad, Mum,’ he said. ‘Me and Bob will be all right until you come back. Just don’t leave it too long, that’s all.’

  Peggy pulled them both to her and held them tightly. ‘I’ll come as soon as I can, and remember we all love you both very much,’ she said, her voice gruff with unshed tears.

  Violet let go of a tearful Ernie’s hand, her round, sweet face soft with concern. ‘It’s time to go, Peggy,’ she said softly. ‘The girl’s waiting in the truck outside, and you don’t want to miss the train.’

  Peggy wanted very much to miss the train – to stay here, to be a part of her sons’ lives again. She hugged them fiercely, knowing she had to deny herself – knowing it was best for all concerned if she left now before she made a complete fool of herself.

  She kissed Ernie again, stepped back and picked up her case as Violet opened the front door. ‘Goodbye, my darlings, look after one another, won’t you?’

  Bob slung his arms round Charlie and Ernie’s shoulders and mussed their hair. ‘Don’t worry about us,’ he said. ‘I’ll make sure these two don’t get into too much mischief.’

  She swiftly kissed them all again and stepped outside into the gloomy day. The rain was a mist that veiled the surrounding hills and soaked through her best coat and hat as she carried her case out to the farm truck. She didn’t look back, for if she did, she would never leave.

  She climbed into the truck and slammed the door, blinded by her tears, her heart heavy.

  ‘Ready?’ asked the young land girl as she crunched the gears.

  ‘Not really, but I suppose I have no other option.’

  ‘Must be horrid for you,’ the girl said sympathetically. ‘Glad I don’t have any children to worry about.’ She released the handbrake and the truck began to roll forward.

  Peggy wiped away the condensation on the side window and looked out. Violet and the boys were standing on the doorstep in the pool of light coming from the porch. She blew a kiss, holding her fingers to the glass as if she could touch them through it.

  They waved and blew kisses back, but the truck was already moving away from them, gathering speed as it splashed and jounced through the farmyard puddles and scattered the ducks and hens.

  As the farmhouse was lost in the mist behind them and they reached the narrow, winding country lane that would take them to the station halt some miles away, Peggy felt a great surge of the grief that had been building since yesterday. It overwhelmed her like the breaking of a dam, and she buried her face in her hands, yielding to it in a storm of bitter tears.

  It seemed Hitler was giving them some respite, for there had been no bombing raids since before the holiday. The nasty weather had closed in with misty rain blotting out the hills and thick, freezing fog rolling in from the sea, but Cliffehaven was preparing for the New Year celebrations. The talk at the factory was an excited babble as the women discussed their plans, what they would wear, and who they would be dancing with. It took all of Major Patricia’s leadership skills to keep them focused on their work.

  Rita was looking forward to the celebrations, too, for she and Chuck had met every day since Christmas, and he’d already bought tickets to the biggest and best dance being held at the Galaxy Ballroom, which was in the Grand Hotel on the seafront. To celebrate, she’d splashed out on a lovely pair of dancing shoes she’d found in the market, and had begun to worry about what to wear with them.

  Ever the romantic, Cissy had insisted she have one of her many party dresses, and Rita had asked John Hicks’ wife, Sally, to take it in and shorten it. It was a lovely dress of turquoise blue, and both Sally and Cissy had assured her that it brought out the darkness of her hair and eyes and made her very pretty indeed. Rita had never been one for party frocks before, or bothered much about her looks, but things had changed since meeting Chuck, and even she had to admit she looked rather nice.

  She had known it wouldn’t be long before her friendship with the young American became common knowledge, but she refused to be drawn into the factory gossip and denied there was anything serious in their being seen together. She hugged the memory of her shy, first sweet kiss to herself.

  The end of her early shift had come at last, and although it was only three in the afternoon it was already quite dark outside. She quickly pulled on the thick fire service overcoat over her dungarees and old sweater, wrapped a scarf round her neck and pulled the beret Anne had given her for Christmas over her curls. Picki
ng up the canvas bag containing the remnants of her lunch, and the gas mask box, she slung their straps over her shoulder, dug her gloved hands deep in her pockets and hurried away from the factory.

  The Norton was safely locked away in one of the outbuildings at the asylum, and it was a long walk back, but she had an appointment with John Hicks first and didn’t want to be late. His message had come through to Major Patricia’s office telephone. She had no idea why he wanted to see her, but suspected he was going to cut down on some of her fire-watch shifts now things were quieter.

  The station was a hive of activity as the fire engines were hosed down and polished to a gleam, the yard was scrubbed and the whole place made shipshape in readiness for the next raid. There was a chorus of greetings which Rita returned before climbing the wooden stairs up to John’s office.

  ‘Come in and sit down, Rita,’ he said cheerfully as she opened the door and walked in. ‘Want a cup of tea?’

  ‘That would be lovely.’ She held her hands over the paraffin heater to warm them. ‘It’s bitter out there.’

  ‘Before I forget,’ he said, ‘your dress will be ready Tuesday morning. I’ll bring it in so you can pick it up here. If there are any problems, Sally will be at home all day, so she can sort them out.’

  Rita experienced a little thrill of excitement. ‘I’m sure it will be perfect,’ she breathed, imagining herself dancing the night away in Chuck’s arms like a fairytale princess.

  ‘Yeah, my Sally’s clever with the needle. Her home dressmaking business is going from strength to strength.’ He poured the tea and set the cup and saucer on the table with a couple of digestive biscuits. ‘She tells me I’m getting fat,’ he said comfortably, patting his midriff, ‘so don’t let on I’ve sneaked these into work.’

  Rita smiled and blew on the hot tea, her hands cradling the cup. ‘It’s our secret as long as you keep sharing them out,’ she murmured. She watched as he settled into the chair by his desk, his injured leg stuck out before him. Rita knew it still caused him a degree of pain, and although he limped quite badly when he was tired, she’d never heard him complain about it.