by Ellie Dean
It was unfair to be separated at such a time, and she realised suddenly this must be how millions of others were feeling right this minute, for as the King had said in his speech, war had divided families and torn loved ones apart, and of course there was always the fear that once it was over, things might not be the same ever again.
Determined to banish such dark thoughts on this special evening, she sipped her tea, lit a cigarette and sat back to watch the fun.
Captain Hammond was a terrific dancer, she noted, and young Randy wasn’t bad either. Rita and Matt were still unaware of the music or their surroundings as they shuffled round in a tight circle and gazed into one another’s eyes, and poor Jane was having terrible difficulty trying to follow Ron’s own version of the quickstep which didn’t at all go with the music. Sarah had gone to sit by Cordelia to have a cigarette, while Martin topped up everyone’s glasses.
Peggy glanced across at the clock on the mantelpiece and realised with shock that it was way past Daisy’s bed-time. She weaved through the dancers to the high chair and lifted her out.
Daisy was in no mood to leave the party, and she kicked her feet and began to bawl in protest as she waved her arms about. This brought Harvey from beneath the table to see what the matter was, and he only just missed being trampled by the dancers. He decided he didn’t like what was happening and shot back into his refuge beneath the table to chew on the mangled ham bone he’d got for Christmas.
Peggy fetched Daisy’s night bottle from her bedroom and carried the yelling, struggling baby upstairs to wash and change her into her nightclothes. She would normally have done this in the kitchen, but she didn’t want to disturb the lovebirds, and as Doris had treated them so appallingly, she wanted them to feel right at home.
Once Daisy was prepared for bed, she warmed the quarter-bottle of milk formula in the bathroom sink with some hot water then went back downstairs to her bedroom. The noise from the dining room was making the old walls vibrate, but as Daisy usually slept through air raids, Peggy wasn’t concerned that it might disturb her.
She held her in her arms as she gave her the bottle and watched as her eyelids fluttered and she finally fell asleep. Kissing the top of her downy head, she gently placed her in the cot and drew the blankets over her. It was the end of Daisy’s first Christmas, and although she would probably never remember it, Peggy was certain that she’d thoroughly enjoyed it.
As she left her bedroom there was a knock on the front door, and she opened it to find Rosie and Monty on the doorstep. One look at Rosie’s face told her that her friend was trying very hard not to show how upset she was. ‘What’s happened, Rosie?’ she asked as they hugged.
‘Nothing that I couldn’t put right,’ she replied briskly, unclipping Monty’s leash. He hared off to find Harvey, and she stepped inside and handed Peggy the shopping bag. ‘Happy Christmas, Peg. I’m sure you’ll enjoy these for a change from your usual brand.’
Peggy looked in astonishment at the several dozen packets of Craven A. They were a posh, expensive brand and hadn’t been seen in the shops for ages. ‘Good grief, Rosie. Where did this lot come from?’
‘Let’s just say Father Christmas delivered them and leave it at that.’ She took off her coat and hung it over the banisters, then patted her hair and plastered on a smile. ‘It sounds as if they’re having fun. How many waifs and strays have you taken in tonight?’
‘There are two in the kitchen and a couple of American boys in the dining room, as well as Cissy, her young man and Martin.’
Peggy regarded Rosie thoughtfully, noting the broken fingernail and chipped varnish and the smudge of mascara beneath one eye. Rosie always looked immaculate, but tonight she was clearly not quite herself. ‘Do you need to talk about whatever’s bothering you, Rosie?’
She shook her head. ‘I need a large gin, if you’ve got one going – and I could do with a bit of a dance as well. Being stuck in the house with a moody Tommy for most of the day hasn’t been the best of fun.’
‘I don’t know what he’s got to be moody about,’ retorted Peggy. ‘He’s got a roof over his head, thanks to you. And is probably living high on the hog with you running about after him and cooking him meals.’
‘Well, something’s got him on edge, and that’s a fact,’ Rosie replied. ‘But whatever it is, he’s keeping it to himself – as usual.’
Peggy wished there was somewhere in the house that wasn’t occupied so they could have a proper talk. It was a bad sign for Tommy to be moody, and the only reason for it as far as she could see was his anxiety over Mary’s search for Cyril Fielding. ‘Tommy isn’t up to his old tricks again, is he?’ she asked, holding up the shopping bag.
Rosie gave a deep sigh. ‘He’ll never change, Peg, and I was stupid to even hope that he might.’ She took Peggy’s hand. ‘Don’t tell Ron, or it will just make everything ten times worse.’
Peggy was wise enough to realise this, for Ron was fiercely protective of his Rosie and if he caught even a whiff of trouble from the hated Tommy there would be serious trouble. ‘I’d better hide all this away in my bedroom,’ she murmured.
Rosie opened the catch on her large handbag and drew out several packets of pipe tobacco. ‘You’d better put these in with them. Ron will get suspicious if I give him too many at once. Perhaps you could eke them out?’
Peggy didn’t like the subterfuge, or the fact that she was being asked to hide what could only be stolen or black-market contraband. But Rosie was her friend, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d had illicit goods hidden about the house – Jim and his father had often come home from their fishing trips to France with things they shouldn’t have.
‘I’ll see to them, don’t you worry.’
‘Thanks, Peg,’ she said with a sigh of relief. ‘I hate to get you involved, but if they’re found in the pub I could not only lose my licence, but get thrown into gaol.’
Peggy opened her bedroom door and Rosie followed her in to head straight for the cot, where Daisy was spreadeagled and fast asleep in the flickering glow of the night-light. ‘She’s so lovely,’ she murmured wistfully. ‘You are lucky, Peg.’
‘She’s a good baby most of the time,’ Peggy replied as she stood on the dressing-table stool and pulled down her overnight case from the top of the wardrobe. ‘But when she’s teething, or in one of her bad moods, her yelling can go right through your head and nothing will soothe her.’
She stuffed the overloaded shopping bag into the small case, snapped the clasps shut and shoved it back out of sight. ‘There, that should do it.’
Rosie tenderly drew the blanket over Daisy’s sprawled body, and ran a finger through the dark curls. ‘It’s at times like this that I … That are the hardest,’ she managed, her voice unsteady. ‘Just her baby smell is enough to bring it all back.’
Peggy thought her heart would break and she drew Rosie into her embrace and held her until she was more composed. ‘I know, and I do understand,’ she soothed as they sat on the end of the bed.
Rosie dried her tears with a handkerchief. ‘I know you do – and I should have learned to put it all behind me after so long – but now and again it sweeps over me like a great tidal wave and I simply don’t have the strength to fight it.’
Knowing what she did, Peggy really didn’t have an answer to this – and anything she said now could open up a real can of worms. As she listened to the joyous shouts from the dining room, she decided it would be best to try and lighten the mood.
‘Why don’t you fix your make-up before we join the others? It sounds as if the party is really livening up in there.’
Rosie nodded, but she didn’t move from the bed. ‘He’s been seeing Eileen again,’ she murmured, her gaze still on the sleeping baby.
Peggy experienced a jolt of alarm, even though this statement had come as no surprise. ‘Really?’ she stuttered. ‘But I thought they couldn’t stand the sight of each other?’
‘I saw them together just after he was released from prison, and again tonight
. They’re up to something, I just know it. Tommy’s been too on edge lately, and I recognise the signs.’
Peggy squeezed her hand, took a deep breath and decided it was time to find out just how much Rosie knew about her brother. ‘Could it have anything to do with Cyril Fielding?’ she asked as casually as she could.
Rosie frowned as she looked back at her. ‘Who the heck is Cyril Fielding?’
The relief was overwhelming. ‘Oh, no one of any importance,’ she replied lightly. ‘He’s another Tommy, really, and I heard a rumour that he was in the area again.’
‘Perhaps I should ask Tommy about him and find out just what he’s up to.’
‘No, don’t do that, Rosie,’ she said hastily. ‘The less you know about Tommy’s business, the better. You really don’t want to get dragged into any trouble if the police start asking questions.’
Rosie took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. ‘You’re right, as always, Peg. I just wish I hadn’t agreed to him coming to stay.’
She reached into her handbag for her powder compact and lipstick and began to repair her make-up. ‘Let’s forget about Tommy and enjoy what’s left of the evening. I don’t know about you, but I am in serious need of a gin and some cheering up.’
Peggy smiled back at her as they went out of the room, but she had a horrible feeling that she shouldn’t have mentioned Cyril. Rosie was being pushed to the limit of her patience by her brother, and if they got into one of their usual heated arguments, it was quite possible that she would fire off questions about Fielding – and that could really stir things up.
As Jack tucked in to his plateful of food Mary discovered that she was hungry after all and had polished off her own plate. They were sitting in the kitchen with Harvey and Monty, who were drooling in anticipation by the table.
Jack mopped the last of the gravy up with a crust of bread, broke it into two and within seconds they’d disappeared down the dog’s gullets. He grinned and ruffled their shaggy heads. ‘I miss having dogs about the place,’ he said.
‘Your mum keeps them out of the house, so I don’t know how,’ said Mary fondly.
‘I know they’re there, and every time you go outside, you’re assured of a warm welcome.’ He smiled at her as he reached for her hand. ‘It’s so lovely to be here with you at last, Mary. You can have no idea of how much I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too,’ she murmured as they leaned towards one another and softly kissed.
Jack cocked his head as Bing Crosby crooned about a white Christmas from the other room. ‘Do you realise we’ve never danced properly together?’
‘You’re forgetting all the times you stomped on my feet at the harvest barn dances,’ she teased.
‘No, I meant properly.’ His expression was very serious as he stood up and held out his hand. ‘Will you dance with me, Mary?’
She went into his arms and rested her head against his shoulder as he held her close and they swayed and shuffled in time to the song. It didn’t matter that it was Peggy’s kitchen, or that they were being watched by two puzzled dogs – or even that their dance floor was faded linoleum – for they were together, and that was all that counted.
As the music came to an end they kissed and drew apart. ‘I have to leave soon,’ he said, glancing at the clock. ‘It’s almost eleven and they lock the hostel doors at midnight.’
‘Then let’s join the party for one more dance before you walk me back. It would be rude not to show our faces after Peggy’s been so very kind.’
He grinned down at her and they hurried into the dining room, where they were met with knowing smiles and cheers. Blushing furiously, they joined in the long, snaking line of the conga, which took them back out into the hall, up to the first landing, down again and round the kitchen before returning to the dining room, where Cordelia waved her stick at them in excitement and beckoned them over.
‘I like the look of your young man, Mary,’ she said, all of a twitter. ‘What’s that uniform?’
‘It’s the Special Service Brigade of the Com-mandos,’ shouted Jack over the surrounding noise. He proudly showed her the badge on his cap and the insignia on his arm.
She eyed both with a deep frown. ‘Spectacles Service for the brocade of commodes? What a very odd thing to belong to. But I suppose you must know what you’re doing.’
Jack looked utterly confused and Mary laughed. ‘She’s very deaf, and although she’s wearing her hearing aid, she’s probably finding it difficult to hear anything with all this racket going on around her.’ She leaned closer to Cordelia and loudly explained exactly what Jack had said.
Cordelia giggled. ‘Silly me.’ She gripped Mary’s hand and pulled her closer. ‘He looks very nice, dear, and I’m glad he’s come home for Christmas.’
‘So am I,’ Mary replied, giving Jack a quick grin. ‘But we’ve got to go now, Cordelia.’
‘Already? But you’ve only just arrived and I haven’t had a dance with him yet.’
Mary glanced frantically at the clock. At this rate they’d have to run all the way back to Havelock Road. ‘Perhaps next time, Grandma Finch,’ she said as she kissed her cheek and wished her a happy Christmas.
Grabbing Jack’s hand, she pulled him across the room. ‘We’ll say a quick goodbye to Peggy then we must rush, or you’ll be locked out.’
Peggy made Jack promise to visit again when he was next on leave, then she shooed them out before they were held up any further.
Mary grabbed her bag, coat and gas-mask box as they hurried through the kitchen, and Jack grinned fondly at the dogs which were now sleeping peacefully in front of the fire. Hand in hand they ran down the twitten and crossed over to Camden Road.
‘Where is the YMCA? I don’t remember seeing it.’
‘It’s in a big house close to the station in the High Street,’ he said as he loped along at a steady jogging pace. ‘The chap at the station told me where it was, and said the original place had been flattened during a fire-bomb attack.’
Mary tugged on his arm. ‘Can you slow down? I’m not as fit as you, and I’m getting a stitch in my side.’
His grin was mischievous as he came to a halt. ‘Sorry, I forgot you were just a feeble female.’
She dug him in the ribs. ‘I’ll give you feeble, you rotter,’ she panted.
He tipped back his head and laughed, then grabbed hold of her, slung her over his shoulder and began to run.
‘Put me down,’ she squealed, half in fright, half in amusement, pummelling his back with her fists.
But he paid no attention and carried on running, to the great entertainment of those walking past.
As his boots thudded on the pavement and she was jolted up and down, her handbag and gas-mask box swung from her wrist and she found she had to cling on to his jacket. She was roaring with laughter now and could only hope that her underwear wasn’t on show to all and sundry as shouts of encouragement and whistles of approval followed them down Camden Road.
He continued on over the High Street and along Havelock Road until he came to a skidding halt outside Doris’s gate. ‘Uh-oh, we’ve been rumbled,’ he groaned.
Mary twisted round and saw Doris on her doorstep saying goodbye to four of her guests. ‘Put me down, quick.’
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ snapped Doris as the gathering on the doorstep turned to stare. ‘Put that girl down immediately.’
‘He was just giving me a lift home,’ giggled Mary as he carefully deposited her onto the driveway.
There were a couple of titters from the onlookers, but Doris was clearly not amused. ‘I expected rather more decorum from you, Mary Jones,’ she said flatly. ‘Get indoors.’
Jack kept his arm about her. ‘We haven’t said goodnight yet,’ he said, and promptly swept Mary into his arms and gave her a passionate kiss.
Mary was giggling so hard she had to cling to him. ‘Stop it,’ she hissed against his lips. ‘You’ll get me thrown out.’
‘Stop that d
isgusting behaviour immediately,’ stormed Doris. ‘It’s an utter disgrace, and I don’t know what the world’s coming to.’
‘Well, there is a war on, Doris,’ tittered one of the women. ‘And they probably only have a few hours together.’
‘Yes, I wouldn’t be too hard on them, dear,’ said another. ‘They are very young.’
‘Young or not, war or not, I will not abide this sort of behaviour on my doorstep, and I’m amazed that you should both condone it,’ she said stiffly.
‘I’ve got to go,’ murmured Jack as he continued to hold Mary to him. ‘Will you be all right with that old battleaxe?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ She kissed him quickly and stepped away. ‘I’m not working until lunchtime tomorrow, so I’ll meet you by the pier at nine.’
‘Make it eight,’ he pleaded. ‘We have so little time together.’
‘Eight it is. Now go, before they lock that blessed door.’ She stood and watched as he ran down the road, then turned back with some trepidation towards the house.
‘Good luck, dear,’ said one of the women as she patted her arm. ‘And don’t fret about Doris. Her bark is often worse than her bite.’
As Doris’s friends walked away, Mary realised that whatever Doris said couldn’t take away the sheer magic of the time she’d spent with Jack. ‘I’m sorry you don’t approve,’ she said as she stepped into the hall. ‘But Jack and I are almost engaged, and he’s only here for such a short time. We were having a bit of fun, that’s all,’ she finished lamely.
‘Bits of fun lead to other things,’ said Doris waspishly. ‘I’m sure your parents wouldn’t have approved of what I witnessed tonight.’
‘I don’t think my father would have really minded,’ she said as she thought of Gideon. ‘He knew how I feel about Jack.’
Doris glared at her. ‘That is no excuse, and if I catch you behaving in that manner again I will have no other option but to throw you out.’
Mary had borne years of listening to the same sort of threat from Emmaline, and she felt quite calm as she took off her coat and slung it over her arm. ‘I do hope it won’t come to that, Mrs Williams, because it really wouldn’t be at all fair. Goodnight.’ She turned on her heel and ran up the stairs.