by Ellie Dean
As if summoned by her thoughts, Matron appeared in the doorway and bustled over to collect her washbag and cardigan. ‘Your driver is here,’ she said briskly. ‘Come along, you mustn’t keep him waiting.’
Danuta grabbed the hated walking stick she still had to use because of her crippled feet and slowly shuffled across the room. They didn’t speak as they continued at a snail’s pace down the long corridors to the reception hall, and Danuta was glad of it, for she had to use all her concentration to put one painful foot in front of the other.
They reached the door, and Matron handed over the cardigan and washbag with a nod. ‘Good luck,’ she said stiffly.
‘Thank you, Matron,’ she returned with a soft smile. ‘I have had the best care these past months, and I’m most grateful to everyone who has worked so hard to get me to this day. I will never forget them.’
Matron nodded again and then opened the heavy front door. ‘Your driver will see to you from here,’ she said before turning to bustle quickly away like a galleon in full sail.
Danuta put the washbag under one arm and the cardigan over her shoulders so she could concentrate on getting over the slight hump of the doorstep. Having achieved that, she wondered how on earth she’d navigate the few steps down to the gravel driveway where a shining black car was waiting. She took a tentative step forward, thinking rather crossly that it would have been helpful if the driver was here to give a hand down these steps, but he was nowhere to be seen.
‘To be sure, wee girl, you’re a sight for sore eyes, so ye are.’
Startled, Danuta almost lost her footing, but a strong pair of arms encircled her and she leaned gratefully against him. ‘Oh, Ron,’ she laughed. ‘You did give me a fright. But why you hide from me?’
‘I wanted to surprise you,’ he said with a beaming smile, holding her now at arm’s length and studying her keenly.
‘Well, you certainly did that,’ she said fondly. ‘But how you get car?’
‘I know a man who knows a man with a car who volunteers up here, and I thought I’d give him Sunday morning off and drive you meself.’
Danuta kissed his freshly shaven chin. ‘I’m so glad,’ she murmured. ‘It is a big day that I once feared would never come, and I am feeling better now you are with me.’
Ron said nothing until he’d helped her down the steps and got her settled into the car. Sliding in behind the wheel, he regarded her thoughtfully. ‘There’s no need to feel anxious, wee girl,’ he said. ‘Everyone is looking forward to welcoming you home, and I’ve even given Harvey an extra good brush for the occasion, warning him to be on his best behaviour.’
‘It will be lovely to see him again,’ she said wistfully, ‘but …’
Ron placed his large rough hand over hers. ‘You’re coming home, Danuta. Home to the love and warmth of good, kind people who want to give their help and encouragement in what they understand must be a difficult time for you. They know nothing of what you’ve been through, and Peggy and I have stuck firmly to the story that you were caught in a London raid – so there will be no awkward questions.’
His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. ‘I can’t guarantee you’ll always be safe now Hitler’s sending over his blasted doodlebugs, but that’s up to fate – and so far it’s been kind to us.’
A warm glow filled her and she returned his smile, for although they lived in precarious times, this man’s presence could always calm her and restore her faith in fate. ‘Thank you, Ron. You have made me feel better.’
‘Are you ready to go home, Danuta?’ he asked, switching on the engine.
‘I am ready,’ she replied firmly.
14
The stately old car moved majestically away from the Memorial Hospital and out into the narrow road which meandered through the hills and gently dipped towards the town. Danuta wound down the window to let the salty air and bright sunshine touch her face as she drank in the view she remembered so well despite the passing of time.
There were inevitable changes, with a forest of barrage balloons over what looked like an industrial estate, big gun emplacements lining the clifftops and the promenade of the horseshoe bay, and large empty spaces where there had once been houses and shops. Even so, the war felt distant on this lovely summer’s day, though she knew it still raged on the other side of the English Channel, and Cliffehaven had experienced the devastation of Hitler’s new and deadly weapon only the day before. But the sea sparkled beyond the guns on the cliffs and gulls hovered and mewled against the clear blue of the sky, empty for once of Allied bombers. And as they began to descend towards the town she saw the delicate church spire rising above the square stone tower amid a fold in the hills. She sat forward, her hand pressed against the dashboard, her gaze fixed to the little church that overlooked the sea.
Without a word, Ron left the main road and drove the car down the even narrower lane that led to the church which had survived fire, famine and war since Saxon times. Drawing to a halt, he switched off the engine and turned to look at her.
‘I thought you might like to have a few private moments with Katarzyna and Aleksy before we go home,’ he murmured.
Danuta nodded, unable to express her love and gratitude to this man who always understood what was in her heart. She struggled out of the car, aware that he was watching anxiously over her as she slowly and painfully walked through the lychgate and along the cemetery path.
There were more headstones than before, she noticed sadly, but this peaceful place was still well tended, and there were fresh flowers on nearly all the memorials – especially the newer ones – and rose bushes had been planted throughout, the sweet scent of the blossoms drifting in the soft air as bees hummed, butterflies flitted back and forth and doves softly cooed from the nearby trees.
Danuta reached the spot where a stone cherub watched over baby Katarzyna, and a beautiful white rose scattered its petals on the small mound of grass that was studded with violets, lily-of-the-valley and black-eyed pansies. Her vision blurred as she regarded the headstone next to it and read the epitaph to her brave brother Aleksy who’d come to England in 1939 to help fight the Germans and had lost his life within months when his plane had been shot down.
The rose growing at his head was the deepest red, the petals like droplets of blood amidst the pansies and violets Ron had planted. He’d written to tell her that the man tending the cemetery had decided to plant the red and white roses in honour of the Polish flag, and the kindness of strangers had touched her as deeply then as it did now.
She took a deep breath to calm the wild beating of her heart as she remembered the night when her precious baby had been born, and how she’d sat and held her as her life ebbed away. Jean-Luc would be watching over his baby girl, just as Aleksy would be if there really was a heaven – and despite all she’d witnessed to the contrary, she hoped very much that there was, for the idea of her entire family waiting for her there was a great comfort.
Danuta managed to gather a few of the petals and held them to her tear-streaked face, breathing in their lovely perfume before she scattered them into the light breeze, watching them tumble and twist before they settled once more on the neatly tended grass.
‘I will come to visit you when I can,’ she murmured to her loved ones. ‘I will not leave you again, I promise.’
She saw that Ron’s expression was anxious as he met her at the gate and helped her back to the car. ‘Thank you for looking after them,’ she said, to ease his concern. ‘The cherub is just as you described, and the little flowers are beautiful.’
He cleared his throat and concentrated on turning the car and getting it back on the main road. ‘I planted snowdrops, daffodils and tulips to give spring colour, and those pansies will last through the summer and into autumn if there’s no early frost. I’m glad you like what I’ve done,’ he added gruffly.
An easy silence fell between them as they swept down the hill, past what remained of the station, over the small bridge and down the Hig
h Street towards the sea. Danuta noted the ugly gaping holes and piles of rubble where the cinema and Woolworths had once been, but was pleased to learn that Stan was still living and working at the station and that the Anchor was still in one piece.
They turned into Camden Road and she saw people walking their dogs or gathering in clusters to gossip as doorsteps were swept and repairs were made to walls and windows. It seemed life went on regardless of the trials and tribulations of this war, and the people of England really did possess a bulldog spirit – refusing to be bullied or cowed.
Ron drew the car to a halt outside Beach View, where Peggy, Cordelia, Fran, Ivy, Rita and Sarah were restraining an over-excited Harvey by his collar as they waited on the front steps with little Daisy.
‘It looks like you’ve got a welcoming committee,’ Ron rumbled. ‘Gird your loins, wee lass, and be prepared to be swamped.’
Danuta hadn’t understood what he’d meant about girding her loins, but the sight of that lovely familiar house and the smiling faces of those waiting for her swept away the last vestiges of doubt, and she fumbled to open the door.
It was hurriedly opened by Peggy, who gathered her into her arms and smothered her face in kisses. ‘Welcome home,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, my darling girl, welcome, welcome.’
‘Let the dog see the rabbit,’ said Cordelia, elbowing her way through the crush to take Danuta’s face in her hands and kiss it tenderly. ‘It’s about time you came home,’ she said with mock severity. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you, too,’ managed Danuta. She was feeling quite overwhelmed by the welcome as she tried to stay on her feet and fend off Harvey, who was attempting to climb all over her. She patted and praised him, relieved to see that despite the greying whiskers, he was as eager and energetic as she remembered.
Fran was jiggling a wide-eyed Daisy on her hip. ‘To be sure, Danuta, ’tis a lot of fuss, but we’re so happy you’re well again, and once you’ve settled in I’ll do something about your hair.’ Danuta’s wary expression elicited a chuckle. ‘You’re not to be worrying,’ Fran assured her. ‘I’ll not be turning you into a fright.’
Danuta ran her bandaged hand over her ragged mop and shot Fran a rueful grin. ‘Anything would be an improvement, Fran.’ She smiled up at Daisy and tried to coax some reaction from her but sudden shyness made the toddler bury her face into Fran’s shoulder.
‘To be sure, she’ll be all over you once she gets to know you,’ the Irish girl assured her. ‘Don’t take it to heart.’
‘Will ye get out of the way so the wee lass can reach the house?’ said Ron in exasperation. ‘You’re cluttering up the street and she can’t be standing about for so long.’
Danuta let him take charge, and was only mildly put out when he gathered her into his arms and carried her up the steps into the hall. ‘I can walk, you know,’ she protested softly.
‘Aye, I’m aware of that, but why walk when you can be carried?’
‘Ron’s always showing off,’ muttered Cordelia as she stepped into the hall on Peggy’s arm. ‘He thinks he’s half his age most of the time, but he’s heading for a sharp dose of reality any day now, you mark my words.’
Danuta smiled at the knowledge that nothing had changed between the older members of this household, for she could remember how they hid their affection for one another by continually arguing and being rude.
‘This is Sarah,’ said Peggy, introducing the slender fair girl who was trying very hard to keep Harvey under some sort of control. ‘Remember, I told you about her being Cordelia’s great-niece and how she and her sister came all the way from Singapore?’
Danuta smiled and only had time to nod a hello before Rita and Ivy pushed forward to introduce themselves. ‘You are sisters?’ she asked, taking in their similar build and colouring.
‘Blimey, chance’d be a fine thing,’ scoffed Ivy. ‘My sister’s up in London and she ain’t ’alf as nice as Rita.’
‘If I had a sister, then Ivy’s about perfect,’ said Rita, shooting Danuta a grin. ‘Pleased to meet you at last.’
‘They’re a couple of imps,’ said Peggy fondly, ‘as you will no doubt soon find out.’ She looked towards the woman who’d been standing quietly off to one side, and drew her forward. ‘This is my sister Doris, who’s come to live with us.’
‘Delighted to meet you,’ said Doris with a stiff little smile. ‘I believe we may have come across one another when you lived here before, but so much has happened since, I’m sorry, I can’t remember.’
Danuta’s memory was not so impaired, for Doris had been the bane of poor Peggy’s life and not a very nice person at all, but she said nothing and smiled back at her, hoping things had improved between them now they’d been forced to live under the same roof.
‘I can smell burning,’ said Ron, sniffing the air.
‘Oh, lawks,’ screeched Peggy, rushing off into the kitchen to rescue the lunch.
The kitchen was just as Danuta remembered, warm and shabby with faded linoleum, mismatched chairs, shelves loaded with pots, pans and crockery, the dresser covered in books, papers and all manner of strange things, and the mantelpiece above the range adorned with photographs. Even the fireside chairs were the same – if now a little worse for wear – and she could see Cordelia’s knitting bag propped against one as it always had been.
Amid the hustle and bustle of dishing up the meal, Danuta was glad to be an island of stillness as she gazed around her and drank in the happy atmosphere she had been missing for so long. Her gaze moved along the display of photographs until she reached the one of Jim. He looked even more handsome in his uniform, that cheeky twinkle in his eye reminding her of his lilting Irish voice, and she could almost hear him saying, ‘You don’t have to be mad to live here, but to be sure it helps.’
Danuta smiled back at him and then felt the nudge of a cold wet nose against her arm. She sank into a chair and Harvey rested his muzzle in her lap, sniffed her bandages and with doleful eyes placed his own bandaged paw on her leg. ‘It looks as if we have both been in the wars, Harvey,’ she murmured, stroking his head. ‘But we will soon get better and go for long walks in the hills.’
His ears pricked up momentarily at the mention of walks, but he was soon distracted by the sound and smell of food going into his bowl.
‘He’s like his master,’ said Cordelia, ‘easily distracted by life’s pleasures – especially if it relates to his stomach.’ She patted Danuta’s cheek. ‘Talking of which, lunch is on the table, and if you don’t mind me saying so, you could do with feeding up.’
The food was delicious, but Danuta found there was far too much on her plate and so shared the untouched potatoes and meat with a delighted Rita and Ivy. She enjoyed sitting quietly and watching them all, listening to their chatter, enjoying their laughter and occasionally joining in when she had something to contribute.
However, it soon became clear that, apart from Sarah, none of them had any real experience of life outside England, or indeed beyond the boundaries of Cliffehaven, and although there were only a few years between her and Fran, she felt much older and time-worn in comparison. It would be strange having to learn how to live what passed for a normal life again – to go to work, make new friends, attend parties and dances, gossip and giggle over inconsequential things, and perhaps even flirt a little – but in the light of such warmth and genuine offers of friendship, she didn’t think it would be too hard if she really put her mind to it.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind Queenie sleeping with you?’ asked Peggy as the cat settled down to purr beside Danuta.
Danuta stroked the soft black fur. ‘I will enjoy her company,’ she replied.
Peggy smiled. ‘You won’t feel quite so happy at three in the morning when she starts yowling to be let out,’ she warned. ‘I’ll leave your door ajar so she can come and go without disturbing you – although don’t be surprised if Harvey comes in and makes himself at home. He likes a nice bed just as much as Queenie.’
Peggy reached down to caress Danuta’s face. ‘It’s so lovely to have you home, dearest girl. I hope we haven’t all exhausted you today.’
‘It is a good tiredness,’ said Danuta, ‘and everyone has been so lovely to me that my heart is full.’ She put her arms round Peggy and gave her a hug and kiss. ‘Thank you for everything – especially for keeping my photographs and Aleksy’s medallion safe whilst I was away.’
‘It was the least I could do,’ replied Peggy, embracing her carefully as if afraid of hurting her. ‘Goodnight, Danuta,’ she murmured, switching off the central light. ‘Sleep well and try to dream only of good things.’
Danuta watched her leave the door ajar and listened to her footsteps as she hurried down the stairs. Peggy, Ron and all the others here at Beach View had gone a long way to restoring her faith in the human race, for they’d shown her such love and care today, and it imbued every inch of this little room too. She had been overwhelmed by it all, especially the little gifts of jewellery, clothes and slippers, and although the day had been long and exhausting, the memories of it would stay with her forever.
She nestled back against the lovely plump pillows as Queenie purred on the eiderdown, revelling in the delicious knowledge that at last she was home and would never again have to seek shelter in shelled-out barns, stinking ditches or dank tunnels, hiding from the enemy, stealing to eat, and never sure if she’d survive to see the next dawn.
Her gaze drifted to the faded, stained and much-creased photographs she’d rescued from the rubble of her home in Warsaw and given to Peggy to keep safe. She’d carried them next to her heart on that first perilous journey across a war-torn Europe in search of her brother, determined to get to England and join him in the fight against the Nazis. Their beloved faces were still recognisable, but it was as if they belonged in an ethereal world that lived on only in her memory.
