by Ellie Dean
Mary had accepted long ago that she and Ivy were unwelcome guests, but she was coldly furious that this woman thought she had a right to poke and pry. Yet she knew better than to tell her what she really thought about her, and kept her tone level.
‘I’m sorry you feel that way about us living here, and if it’s such a burden, then I’m sure the billeting office could find us somewhere else to lodge.’
Something sparked in Doris’s eyes. ‘There’s no need to take that attitude,’ she said frostily. ‘The billeting people have enough to do without shifting people from place to place.’
Mary realised that although Doris didn’t like the idea of having lodgers, there was nothing she could do about it, and if she and Ivy left, she’d have to take in two others. It was a tiny victory, but she wasn’t finished with Doris yet. ‘As for the underwear, it’s expensive and takes a lot of clothing coupons to buy new, even if it is only the utility stuff on offer. Ivy and I don’t have a lot of spare cash to spend on luxuries, so we have to make do and mend.’
‘Very commendable, I’m sure,’ said Doris with a sniff as her gimlet gaze took in Ivy’s tumbled bedding and the discarded clothes on the floor. ‘But it’s a pity that neither of you are appreciative enough of my hospitality to keep my room clean and tidy. I expect it to be straightened before we go to the concert, Mary. I will not have such disorderliness.’
Mary didn’t bother to reply as Doris swept out of the room and closed the door behind her. She looked at the mess surrounding Ivy’s bed and began to pick up the clothes. She really was the limit, but Doris was worse, and she began to wonder if the woman made a habit of coming in here to poke about in things that didn’t concern her. Did she go as far as reading letters and diaries? She wouldn’t have put it past her.
She glanced across at the bedroom door. There was no key, and to ask for one now would only put Doris’s back up further. Yet Ivy would have to be warned of what had happened today, and their precious letters would have to be hidden somewhere the nosy old trout wouldn’t think of looking.
As she cleared the detritus of Ivy’s clothing from the floor and stowed it away, her thoughts raced. The only safe place would be in their gas-mask boxes, for they had to be carried at all times, and were only left in the bedroom when they were in the house. Tugging the bedclothes up and smoothing down the counterpane, Mary retrieved her letters from her underwear drawer and tucked them away with her diary in her gas-mask box. If Doris had read what she’d written about her, then it served her right – at least it would save Mary the effort of actually telling her to her face what a horrid, snobbish piece of work she was.
She realised it was getting late, so she quickly changed into her black velvet dress and tied back her hair with a matching ribbon. She decided to borrow Ivy’s pearl earrings, then carefully put on some light make-up. Slipping on the rather tight shoes she’d been given for Suzy’s wedding, she grabbed her gas-mask box and went downstairs.
‘I’d like to practise for a while, if that’s all right,’ she said to Doris, who was eating a lunch of soup and sliced wheatmeal bread in the dining room.
‘I’m glad to note that you at least appreciate some of the advantages of living here,’ she replied sourly. ‘I shall be driving to the hall in exactly one hour so I can greet my friends and make sure everything is in order so the concert runs without any unfortunate hitches.’
Five minutes before the hour was up, Doris came downstairs resplendent in a smart tweed suit and nifty felt hat which sported two pheasant feathers. Her matching leather handbag and gloves gleamed, and her make-up was immaculate. ‘I hope you’ve had something to eat,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you fainting in the middle of everything.’
Mary nodded and went to fetch her coat from the hall. She’d had the last of the soup and two slices of bread and marge, which should see her through until supper.
The car sparkled in the sunlight that shafted through the clouds, and Mary climbed in beside Doris with some misgivings. The mixed scents of leather seats and of oil and petrol were so familiar after all the years she’d sat beside her father that the memories of those times were almost too painful to bear.
As Doris drove out of the driveway and into the road, all the memories faded, for unlike Gideon, Doris was not a careful driver. She raced along, careless and impatient of pedestrians and other vehicles, her hand constantly hitting the horn if either dared to get in her way.
Mary clung to the seat, certain they’d crash into something at any minute.
Doris finally brought the car to a screeching halt outside the large hall and yanked on the handbrake. ‘I shall be giving a lift to my friends after the concert,’ she said as she reached for her handbag. ‘So you’ll have to walk home.’
Mary glanced ruefully down at the tight shoes and wished she’d known about this arrangement earlier so she could have brought a more comfortable pair to change into. Still, she thought, as she followed Doris down to the side entrance, it would mean not risking life and limb in that car again, even if she did have to resort to walking barefoot all the way back.
As she stepped into the back-stage area of the hall she saw Fran and Robert deep in conversation and smiled. Their friendship was blossoming and Robert looked very handsome and perfectly at ease in his black dinner suit and white tie. It seemed his admiration was no longer unrequited and he’d discovered a previously hidden faith in himself, for the awkwardness had been banished and there was a confident air about him now.
As for Fran, she looked quite stunning in the navy blue dress she’d borrowed from Sarah. She’d left her hair to fall loosely down her back and over her shoulders, but had swept it off her face with a blue velvet Alice band. Her make-up was light, and all sign of any hangover had vanished.
She rushed over to Mary and gave her a hug. ‘Isn’t this fun? I can’t wait to get started, can you?’
‘I’m glad you’re not nervous,’ laughed Mary. ‘I’m shaking like a leaf.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, the pair of you,’ snapped Doris as she grabbed Fran’s arm. ‘Stand still, girl, and let me look at you.’ She eyed Fran up and down. ‘I suppose you’ll do,’ she said gracelessly. ‘But it’s a shame you didn’t have something black to wear. Navy’s not really suitable and that hem is far too short.’
Fran pulled a face at her back as Doris went off to say hello to Robert. ‘Poor Bob, he hates it when she corners him like that,’ she said anxiously. ‘Do you think I ought to go and rescue him?’
Mary shook her head. ‘He’s capable of dealing with Doris, by the look of it. You’ve given him the courage to face just about anything now you’ve finally taken notice of him.’
Fran blushed and dipped her chin so her hair fell about her face. ‘To be sure, Mary, he’s a shy wee man, but I’m thinking he has hidden depths.’ She tossed back her hair almost defiantly. ‘I could never have imagined he would play the clarinet so wonderfully well – and with such passion too.’ She gave a soft chuckle as she glanced across at him to find he was watching her. ‘There’s definitely more to Robert Goodyear than meets the eye,’ she murmured.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ replied Mary. ‘But it’s time we got to our places and stopped thinking about other things, or we’ll have the wrath of the conductor on us.’
‘It’ll be very different to playing at the Anchor, won’t it?’ said Fran as they followed the others through the wings and onto the curtained-off stage. ‘What if I play a wrong note, or lose the timing?’
Mary gave her an affectionate smile. ‘Don’t worry, Fran. We’ve practised all the pieces until our fingers are numb, and there are twenty other people around us giving their support – including the faithful Robert. We’ll get through this, you’ll see.’
With Fran playing at the concert and the other girls at work, Peggy had had no option but to leave Daisy with Ron. It was on the firm understanding that he was not to take her up into the hills on one of his poaching forays.
The last time he�
�d taken her up there to the private estate by the Memorial hospital, he’d returned with a pocketful of disgusting eels which he’d then boiled until they were a horrid, jellied mess in her best baking bowl. She’d torn a strip off him and no mistake, and she rather hoped it had been stern enough to make him think twice about doing it again and risk getting himself arrested into the bargain.
She had dressed carefully in her best skirt and sweater, her smart overcoat and her new fur-trimmed gloves. It was important to show her support for her girls and not to let the side down, and she certainly didn’t want Doris to have anything to moan about – although she was bound to find something.
‘Bertram double-barrelled’, as they now called him, had come to Beach View in his little car, and she’d squeezed in behind Cordelia, who was looking very smart in the suit she’d worn to Suzy’s wedding. Bertram, ever the gentleman, had given each of them an early rosebud plucked from his greenhouse as buttonholes, while he sported a tweed jacket and twill trousers with a rather dashing yellow waistcoat to match the rose in his lapel.
You could say what you liked about Bertram – and there was some talk about him being a bit of a lady’s man – but he could certainly cut a fine figure, and Cordelia seemed quite happy to ignore the gossip and enjoy his company.
They’d arrived at the hall in plenty of time, and after buying raffle tickets and checking out what the prizes were, they found their seats in the second row. Peggy had wanted to sit in the front so the girls could see her, but Doris had commandeered all the best seats for her snooty friends who were now hobnobbing and making disparaging remarks about the other members of the audience.
‘Have you turned on your hearing aid?’ she asked Cordelia as they all sat down.
‘Well, of course I have, dear,’ she replied. ‘I’ll turn it up when the film starts.’
Peggy frowned. ‘It’s Fran and Mary’s concert, Cordelia. Surely you haven’t forgotten?’
‘Oh dear,’ she twittered. ‘I am a silly old thing, aren’t I? Of course it is. I don’t know where my mind goes sometimes, I really don’t.’ She turned to Bertram with a broad smile as he handed her a box of Lyons chocolates. ‘Oh, how lovely,’ she sighed as she plucked one from the box. ‘What a thoughtful man you are, Bertie. And they’re my favourite peppermint creams, too.’
Peggy tried not to show her concern, but there had been several occasions recently when Cordelia forgot things quite quickly – not things from the past, but everyday things. Perhaps it was time to take her for a check-up at the surgery.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the smattering of applause as the curtains opened to reveal the musicians and the portly conductor, who looked frightfully important in his white tie and black tailcoat as he took a bow. Peggy had known from Fran that there would be an orchestra but she hadn’t realised just how large it was, and she began to fret that it would prove too much for Fran and Mary to cope. After all, they’d only played at the Anchor, and the music there was hardly of concert standard.
Everyone looked terribly smart – the men either in black tie or dress uniform, the four women in their best frocks – although the second violinist faded into the background in that grey, and the voluminous red velvet was a bit much on the rather plump harpist. It clashed with her ruddy face and scarlet lipstick. But Fran looked lovely in Sarah’s blue dress, and Mary was elegant in black velvet – and even Robert looked quite the thing in his black tuxedo.
She glanced from Robert to Fran and didn’t miss the secret smile they gave one another, which made her feel very contented. It was good that they had found each other. He was a steadying influence, and her liveliness would gee him up a bit. Her own instincts were rarely wrong, and she’d known the minute she’d met him that beneath that shy, rather awkward exterior beat the heart of a man capable of anything if given half a chance. As far as Peggy was concerned, it was a perfect match.
She took a surreptitious glance around the large hall and recognised the reporter from the local paper sitting at the back. Doris was greeting the Mayor and the members of the Town Council, looking very much in charge as she escorted them to the front row with an obsequious smile. There was no sign of Ted, but then he was probably busy managing his staff at the Home and Colonial store, which was rather surprisingly open today.
Peggy saw that nearly every seat was taken, and there were still a few latecomers arriving. Doris was certainly a whizz at organising things, and the charity for injured servicemen and -women would assuredly have a large boost to their funds after today. She crossed her fingers and prayed that her girls would not be fazed by such a large and important audience.
The lights dimmed in the hall and there was an expectant hush as the spotlight hit centre stage to reveal Doris standing at a microphone. ‘Lady Chumley; Your Worship, Mayor Hammond; Archbishop Grey; Reverend Philips; ladies and gentlemen,’ she began in her best upper-class voice. ‘I have had the great honour of being asked to raise money for a most worthy cause, and I hope that you will not only enjoy our little concert, but dig deep when it comes to purchasing raffle tickets, which will be on sale all afternoon. There are—’
Her speech was interrupted by the warning pips, and there was a breathless hush as everyone waited to see if the air-raid sirens would follow. Doris glared furiously and the sirens remained silent. It seemed that not even the Luftwaffe dared to ruin her moment of glory.
‘As I was saying,’ she continued grandly, ‘there are some magnificent prizes to be won, and these have most generously been donated by our well-wishers. All proceeds will go to help our brave men and women who have been injured during their heroic fight against the tyranny of Adolf Hitler and Emperor Hirohito.’
As Doris went on and on, Peggy stopped listening. She’d seen the prizes and had set her sights on either the joint of pork or the large chicken. She took one of Cordelia’s chocolates and let it melt slowly in her mouth, relishing the almost-forgotten taste of peppermint cream and rich, dark cocoa.
Doris was clearly enjoying her moment in the limelight as she kept waffling on, but Peggy could hear rustling and the shifting of bottoms on seats and knew the audience was getting restless. If this had been the music hall, they’d have been throwing things at her by now and booing her off the stage.
It was only when Doris introduced the conductor and the members of the orchestra that Peggy took notice again, and she sat up straight, hoping the girls would spot her in the audience and take comfort from knowing she was willing them to do well. They both looked very serious and rather sombre in their black and navy, and Peggy could tell they were having trouble with last-minute nerves, for their little faces were quite pale.
She held her breath as the conductor raised his baton, but let it out on a sigh of pleasure as the first perfect notes rang through the silent hall and sent a shiver of delight right through her. It was going to be all right.
The audience sat entranced as the wonderful music filled the auditorium, and their applause could surely be heard from the street outside as they showed their appreciation. But it was after the interval, when Robert played the opening glissando to Rhapsody in Blue, that you could have heard a pin drop, and Peggy felt a shiver of pleasure run right to her core as the sensuous, intoxicating music filled the hall. She’d had no idea he could play like that – but didn’t doubt for a minute that this talent had brought him and Fran closer.
When Gershwin’s glorious music came to an end the hall erupted. People were on their feet calling for more, their faces alight with the joy that the music and the artistry of the players had brought them.
Peggy was in tears, and so, she noticed, was Cordelia, who’d forgotten to bring a handkerchief. Scrabbling in her bag, she handed her spare one over and then settled down eagerly for whatever was to come next.
The concert ended with the rousing ‘Rule, Britannia’, and this was followed after an absolute barrage of requests for an encore by ‘Land of Hope and Glory’, which brought everyone to their feet to sing along
. The effort the orchestra had put into the show was clear in their shining faces as they took their bows and mopped their foreheads.
Peggy was on her feet and applauding as Mary, Fran and Robert came to the front of the stage and, holding hands, took their bows.
Doris bustled onto the stage with the Mayor and Lady C., who gave each girl a small bouquet of flowers and Robert a rosebud buttonhole. Then it was time to announce the winners of the raffle, and Peggy squeaked in delight as she discovered she had a winning ticket. Her disappointment was huge when she discovered she’d just missed out on the joint of pork, and had won a washing-up mop, a tea towel and a very small bar of Sunlight soap.
They left their seats and shuffled towards the main doors, along with the rest of the audience. It was already dark, and Peggy was looking forward to getting home to take her corset off and have a nice cup of tea. But first she wanted to congratulate the girls and Robert on a wonderful concert.
As they went down the steps towards Bertram’s car she saw them emerge from the stage door. ‘You get Cordelia settled,’ she said to him. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
She hurried over and grasped the girls’ hands. ‘That was truly wonderful,’ she breathed. ‘And as for you, Robert Goodyear, you’re a dark horse, aren’t you? I never had an inkling that you could play the clarinet, let alone so wonderfully well.’
He blushed to the roots of his hair. ‘I’m not that good,’ he protested with soft modesty.
‘Oh yes, you are. It made me get goose-bumps.’ She looked at the three of them. ‘Now, are you coming back to me for tea? Or are you off to celebrate?’
‘I’m on night shift, Peggy,’ said Mary, ‘so I can’t, I’m afraid. Perhaps another day?’