Where the Heart Lies

by Ellie Dean

  Julie let Michael guide her to safety, but her legs were trembling so badly she almost fell into his arms. He led her towards a slab of concrete on the other side of the road and she slumped onto it, her head buried in her hands as the tears of relief and pent-up fear streamed down her face.

  The rumble behind her deepened and, with a clatter of wood and concrete and glass, the mound caved in and settled amid a cloud of dust.

  ‘Whew, that was a close call,’ muttered Michael. ‘Are you all right, Julie?’

  She nodded and hastily blew her nose and dried her eyes. ‘I’m fine,’ she said rather unsteadily.

  ‘I prescribe a cup of hot sweet tea, a bath and a good long sleep,’ he said, reaching for his medical bag. ‘Well done,’ he added softly, his dark brown eyes regarding her with kindness. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Julie watched as the tall, slender figure in the dusty overcoat pushed through the crowd of rescuers and bystanders and strode away. Michael Sayers had proved to be dependable and strong, assured in his skills and his sense of duty, and Julie wondered if she could have been quite so brave those last few moments if he hadn’t been down that hole with her.

  ‘John Baker, Cliffehaven News. You’re Sister Harris, aren’t you? What was it like down there?’

  Julie looked up at the elderly reporter and frowned in confusion. ‘I have to get home to William,’ she murmured as she grabbed her medical bag and got unsteadily to her feet.

  ‘Is William your husband?’ he persisted. ‘You’re not local, are you?’

  She tried to push past him, but the crowd was too tightly packed and he was determined. ‘You’re quite the heroine,’ he said. ‘Come on, love, it’s a great story. Give me something for tomorrow’s paper.’

  ‘Leave the wee girl alone,’ rumbled Ron as he put his arm round Julie. ‘Let’s get you out of here before this hack really starts to irritate me.’

  She let him elbow their way through the crowd, but once they were clear she shot him a smile of thanks and freed herself from his grip. ‘I have to find William,’ she gasped, and before he could reply, she’d broken into a run.

  It was much easier to find her way now it was light and it took only minutes to get to Eileen’s. But the dread returned when she saw that the door bore the scars of having had the lock broken – which could only mean that the men had had to break in to retrieve her medical bag. Julie’s mouth was dry, her fears all-consuming as she raced up the stairs towards the sound of William’s angry wails. Had Eileen left him alone as she’d threatened?

  Stumbling into the room, she found Eileen pacing the floor, William in her arms, her expression stony. ‘And about time too,’ she snapped, dumping the screaming baby into Julie’s arms. ‘Where the hell have you been all damn night?’

  Julie held William close and tried to soothe him but he continued to wail, squirming in her arms, his cries going right through her head. ‘I was caught in the raid,’ she said wearily, and went on to explain all that had happened during the night. ‘I’m sorry about your door, Eileen. I’ll get someone to fix it.’

  ‘Yes, you will, and you’ll pay for it.’

  ‘But the raid was over. Where were you?’

  ‘The bakery has an Anderson shelter and I stayed on for a cup of tea and some toast.’ Eileen looked woefully at her once pristine blouse and dabbed at a stain with her handkerchief. ‘He puked all over me,’ she muttered. ‘I need to get changed.’

  There was a sharp rap on the front door. ‘Miss Harris? Miss Harris, I would really like to speak to you – perhaps get a photograph for the piece?’

  ‘Who the hell is that?’ hissed Eileen furiously.

  ‘It’s the reporter from the Cliffehaven News. Just ignore him.’ Julie laid William on the couch and began to change his sodden nappy. ‘When was the last time you fed and changed him, Eileen?’

  ‘A couple of hours ago,’ she replied distractedly as the reporter continued banging on her open front door. ‘You’re going to have to leave. I can’t have reporters on my doorstep.’ She eyed Julie coldly. ‘I hope you didn’t tell him anything.’

  ‘I’ve said nothing, but there were enough people at the bomb site to see what happened, and I’ve no doubt someone’s talked to him.’ She made William comfortable and carried him into the kitchen to warm a fresh bottle of formula.

  Eileen picked up the telephone receiver as the reporter continued to shout from the doorstep. ‘I’m calling the police,’ she said grimly, ‘and once he’s gone, you can leave.’

  Julie was exhausted to the point of sleeping on her feet as she waited for the kettle to boil on the two-ring hotplate. ‘I’m feeding William first,’ she retorted, ‘then I’ll be out of your hair.’ She eyed her sister with little affection. ‘I won’t bother you again – you can be sure of that.’

  The police arrived and escorted the reporter away, and within a few minutes there was a man repairing the front door lock. Eileen stood over him, making sure he did the job properly, and when he’d finished she slammed the door and stumped upstairs to her bedroom to get changed.

  Julie finished feeding William, her eyelids drooping with weariness, her whole body aching for the comfort of a soft bed. Once he was settled and asleep, she made a spam sandwich which she stuffed down with a cup of scalding tea as she packed away William’s things. ‘I’ll have to leave the two cases here and pick them up later,’ she said as Eileen came back into the room.

  ‘I’ll get someone to deliver them to the Town Hall before tonight.’

  ‘Don’t bother,’ Julie said flatly. ‘I’m not going to the Town Hall.’

  Eileen frowned. ‘Where then?’

  ‘Beach View Boarding House.’

  Eileen went quite pale beneath her heavy make-up. ‘You can’t go there,’ she rasped.

  Julie wondered fleetingly why Eileen was so against her going to Peggy’s, but she was long past caring what her sister thought about anything. ‘I can go wherever I want,’ she replied as she wrapped William into his blanket. ‘At least Peggy Reilly will give us a warm welcome, which is more than can be said for you.’

  She picked up her medical bag, slung the straps of her gas-mask box and handbag over her shoulder and cradled William. Without another word, or a backwards glance, she hurried down the stairs and out into the fresh, breezy morning.

  Eileen heard the slam of the front door and felt the silence close in on her as she stood frozen to the spot. The little world she’d so carefully constructed around her was beginning to crumble, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

  She wrapped her arms round her waist and tried to quell the rising tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She had to stay strong and detached, had to continue as she had done all those years ago, brave it out, keep going until the gossip died down. But it would be harder this time, much harder, and she didn’t know if she had the strength to do battle again.

  Eileen’s sigh was tremulous as she blinked back the tears. The old wounds had been opened up, the old sorrow and shame returning – and once again she was alone to bear their burden. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly,’ she whispered into the silence. ‘I should have welcomed her, given her a home here instead of pushing her straight into Peggy Reilly’s arms. But how could I have known that’s where she’d go?’

  She sank onto the couch, the tears now streaming down her face as she plucked William’s forgotten mitten from beneath the cushion. ‘Oh, God,’ she sobbed. ‘What a mess I’ve made of everything.’

  Chapter Ten

  ANNE HAD BEEN taken straight into theatre and as a distraught and anxious Peggy waited for news, she let the doctor examine her feet and stitch the deeper cuts. She hadn’t noticed how painful they were, being too taken up with Anne and the baby, but now, despite a painkilling injection, they were throbbing and made walking difficult.

  Jim arrived while this was being done, his face drawn with concern and weariness, his clothes grey with dust and ash. He held her hand
and kissed her brow. ‘To be sure, me darlin’ girl, that’s a terrible mess you’ve made of your feet.’

  ‘They’ll get better,’ she said, wincing as the doctor finished bandaging them. ‘Have you managed to get hold of Martin yet?’

  ‘I used the cinema telephone to contact the airbase. Martin isn’t available at the moment, but his commanding officer has promised to let him know what’s happened as soon as he’s returned. He’ll get a few days’ compassionate leave, as well, which will help Anne no end, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  ‘The good thing is that Rose Margaret is doing well,’ she reassured him as he helped her hobble to the waiting room. ‘Dr Sayers has been up to talk to the paediatrician, and he expects her to be well enough to come home in about ten days.’

  Jim kept his arm round Peggy, his cheek resting in her dusty curls as they settled on the hard chairs. ‘What about our Anne? That leg looked pretty smashed up.’

  Peggy’s voice quavered with the tears she’d been holding back for so long. ‘I don’t know, Jim. The surgeon rushed off with her before I could speak to him, and Dr Sayers won’t commit himself. But it doesn’t look good.’ She leaned against him, the weariness and pain and worry weighing heavily on her heart. ‘Oh, Jim. What if she loses her leg? What if she . . .?’

  ‘There, there, me darlin’ girl,’ he soothed. ‘She’ll come through, you’ll see. Anne’s a Reilly, and a fighter, and I’ll not have you thinking such terrible things.’

  Peggy kept her doubts to herself, praying that Jim was right and that her darkest fears wouldn’t be realised. But the memory remained of the filthy beam that had crashed down on Anne’s leg, and of all that dirt and dust, and she simply couldn’t dismiss the thought of all those germs and what harm they might have done to shattered skin and bone.

  She looked up expectantly as the door to the waiting room opened. ‘Oh, Ron,’ she sighed with a mixture of disappointment and relief. ‘I thought you might be the doctor.’

  He looked older and infinitely weary as he stood there in his filthy, ragged Home Guard uniform and asked for news. As Peggy told him the little she knew, he nodded and stepped back into the corridor. ‘I’ve left Harvey tied to the hospital gatepost, so I need to get him home. I’ll come back as soon as I can.’

  ‘Could you check on Mrs Finch? Only I left her all on her own last night, and she must be frantic by now.’

  ‘Aye, I’ll do that, Peg. And what about the wee girl, Julie? I overheard you talking last night. D’you want me to sort out a room for her and the wain?’

  ‘Top front room,’ said Peggy, glad to have something else to think about for a moment. ‘Rita and the other girls can help get it ready. Use our cot for now. I’ll get another from the Town Hall if they have one. If not, someone’s bound to be selling one.’

  He let the door clatter behind him and Peggy heard his footsteps slowly fade into silence. She leaned back into Jim, desperately trying to keep her eyes open, but Jim’s arm was round her, his shoulder solid and infinitely comforting. Her eyelids fluttered and sleep finally claimed her.

  Ron untied the sturdy rope that had tethered Harvey to the hospital gatepost and, having let him free to run before him, set off at a steady pace for home. He was weary beyond belief, but the knowledge that Harvey had heard Peggy’s calls and led him to her and Anne, and that everyone had been rescued from that hole which could have become their tomb, kept him going. He didn’t dwell on the terrible possibility that Anne might not pull through, for thinking like that did no good to his already depleted spirits.

  He trudged through the back gate, along the path and into the basement, Harvey close to his heels. He was getting too old for all these shenanigans, and having miraculously survived the first war, he hadn’t expected to have to worry himself silly through another. But his family relied on him, and now there was a great-granddaughter to look after, it gave his role of patriarch an extra special importance. At least he was useful, he thought grumpily – not like some of the old codgers in the Home Guard who had nothing more to think about than ill-fitting false teeth and their next meal.

  Rather cheered by this thought, he tramped up the concrete steps to the kitchen and was greeted by four very anxious females who’d clearly learned enough of the night’s events to badger him with endless questions.

  He answered them as best he could, told them about Julie and William, and made sure Mrs Finch had come through her solitary night unscathed. She seemed a little more dithery than usual, but he put that down to the fact they were all on edge after their grim night.

  Once he considered he’d fulfilled his duty, he dragged off his coat and plumped into the easy chair by the range. ‘I’ll have a cup of tea with a drop of rum to liven it,’ he said through a vast yawn, ‘and a saucer of the same for Harvey. He’s earned that much tonight.’ He looked fondly at the dog which was now sitting at his feet.

  Fran rushed to pour the tea and find the rum as Suzy fussed over Harvey and Rita carried Ron’s filthy coat and boots back down the cellar steps. ‘Ah,’ he said with deep satisfaction as he slurped the scalding alcoholic tea. ‘Now that’s what I call a lifesaver, eh, Harvey?’

  The lurcher was too busy lapping to bark his agreement, but his tail was windmilling very happily as he chased the saucer over the floor.

  ‘Ron,’ said Mrs Finch hesitantly. ‘I have a confession to make.’

  He eyed her affectionately and grinned. ‘What terrible sin is it you want to confess? To be sure, you’ve not sold the family silver while our backs have been turned?’

  ‘Well, it is a terrible mess,’ she said fretfully, ‘and although it was cold, and made me shiver, I didn’t like to burn the oil heater for too long. And then the lamp went out and I tried to light it, and that’s when it happened.’

  He put down his cup and took her hand, immediately concerned that he’d not noticed she was very upset over something other than the family. ‘What is it, Mrs Finch? What happened last night?’

  She reached trembling fingers into her wrap-round apron pocket. ‘I took out the lovely new hearing aid so I could go to sleep,’ she said, ‘and then woke up in the dark and forgot it was in my lap. I got up to light the lamp and . . .’ She drew the remains of the hearing aid out of her apron pocket and held them out to him. ‘I must have stepped on it,’ she finished shakily.

  He smiled at her, relieved that her fretfulness had been over something so minor. ‘Never mind,’ he said, taking it from her. ‘Worse things happen at sea, and it’ll be quite like old times without you earwigging on every word I say.’

  She frowned back at him, clearly not understanding what he’d said. ‘What’s that about wigs?’ she demanded. ‘I do not wear such a thing. How dare you insinuate—’

  ‘I never said you wore a wig,’ he yelled so she could hear. ‘I said I’ll see what I can do to fix this.’ But as he dangled it before her, he didn’t hold out much hope. Her dainty size four feet had smashed the blessed thing to smithereens.

  Julie discovered that Beach View Boarding House was one of a terrace of Victorian villas in a side street that seemed to end in a bomb site. She dithered outside as she checked her watch and wondered what to do. It was still quite early, and the family were probably at the hospital. Perhaps she should have waited until later to descend on them – but she had nowhere else to go, and if she didn’t eat properly and rest soon, she would simply collapse right here on the pavement.

  She hitched William to a more comfortable position in her arms and rapped the lion’s-head knocker, not at all sure about her welcome. Would they even be expecting her?

  ‘There y’are,’ said Ron as he flung the door open. ‘Come in, come in. Your room is almost ready, and I’ve taken the cot up for young William, so he’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug.’ He poked a rather grubby finger into William’s blanket and tickled his chin. ‘To be sure, he’s a fine fellow, so he is.’

  Julie smiled at the praise and stepped into the pleasant hall as he closed the door behind
her. His welcome had banished her fears and at last she felt she could relax. ‘Thank you, Mr Reilly,’ she said shyly. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d be expecting me. How’s Anne and the baby?’

  ‘Call me Ron,’ he said, and smiled. ‘Everyone else does in this house,’ he added with feigned grumpiness, ‘regardless of the fact I’m an old man who suffers from me shrapnel wounds something terrible, and should be treated with respect.’

  ‘Oh.’ Julie didn’t quite know how to take his sudden change in humour.

  Ron wriggled his eyebrows, his blue eyes twinkling again. ‘Take no notice of me, girly. I like a good grumble now and then.’ His expression sobered. ‘Anne’s in theatre and Peggy and Jim are waiting at the hospital for news. The baby is well by all accounts, and expected to be home within the fortnight.’

  ‘That’s very good news,’ replied Julie, distracted by the sound of footsteps pounding along an upstairs landing.

  ‘That sounds like Rita. She’ll find you something to eat and show you your room,’ said Ron. ‘I have to get washed and changed and back to the hospital. Nice to have you with us,’ he added over his shoulder as he headed out of the hall.

  Julie smiled at the young girl who’d come running down the stairs. Small and slight with a halo of dark curls, she looked a real tomboy in trousers, boots and an old flying jacket. ‘Hello, Rita. I’m Julie, and this is William.’

  ‘Oh, what a darling,’ she cooed as she peeked into the folds of the blanket. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Julie, and I’m sure you’ll be as happy as we all are here. But I’ve heard all about what happened last night,’ she said breathlessly, ‘so I expect you’re that tired you just want to climb into bed and sleep for hours instead of standing here talking to me.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Julie, ‘I could do with some food. I haven’t eaten more than a spam sandwich since yesterday morning.’

  Rita’s big brown eyes widened. ‘Goodness, you must be starving. Come on into the kitchen while I make you something.’