by Ellie Dean
She looked up at him, her emotions in turmoil. ‘It’s only just sunk in,’ she admitted, ‘and although it won’t be easy what with air raids, rationing and a full house to look after, I’ve realised I’m thrilled at the thought.’
‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly,’ she murmured and smiled up at him. ‘But my emotions are all over the place right now, and with Anne leaving with Rose Margaret, it’s going to be hard to adjust to the reality of having none of my children at home. I want to tell everyone, of course I do. But not yet, Jim – not until I’m really ready.’
‘You have my promise, Peg.’ He drew her close and kissed the top of her head, which just about reached the tips of his shirt collar. ‘But I need you to promise that you’ll look after yourself and do what the doctor tells you.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said briskly. ‘Good heavens, Jim. I’ve had four babies already, and this one will be no different.’
‘You were younger then, and there wasn’t a war on,’ he said solemnly. ‘If you meant what you said about really wanting this baby, then you’ll rest and eat properly and not put it or yourself at risk.’
‘I promise,’ she replied, her mind going over all the things she had yet to do before Anne left home.
‘Peggy, you’re a wee pain in the arse, so you are – but I love you anyway.’ He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek and tugged her hand. ‘Come on. Everyone will be waiting for their breakfast, and I could eat a horse, so I could.’
‘You’ll get dried egg on dry toast and like it,’ she retorted happily. ‘They’ve just cut the butter ration again.’
Breakfast was the usual chaos, with babies demanding to be fed, nurses dashing in and out on their way to work, Rita swotting for her mechanic’s final exams, and Harvey trying to steal toast and anything else the babies dropped on the floor.
Julie was trying to feed William, who was sitting in the high chair banging his spoon on the tray; Rose Margaret was smearing as much jam as possible into her hair while Mrs Finch dithered about trying to be helpful and Anne struggled to keep the jam off her good skirt. Ron was the only still being in this whirl of noise and activity, sitting there at the end of the table, lost in his own world as he contentedly drank his tea.
Peggy sat in her kitchen as the clock ticked away the minutes and the noise went on around her. She poured the tea, passed the jug of milk or pot of sugar, and let the chatter drift over her as she watched her lovely daughter. Anne had left home when she and Martin had bought their little cottage, so it shouldn’t feel so painful to see her preparing to leave again. But it did, for this time she would be taking Rose Margaret with her, and the little girl had become such an intrinsic part of Peggy’s life she couldn’t imagine the house without her.
They heard the roar and screech of a car pulling up outside and the excited tooting of a horn. ‘That’ll be Martin,’ said Anne, pushing back from the table and hauling a protesting Rose from the high chair. ‘He’s much earlier than I expected, and Rose needs a bath before I take her anywhere.’
Before Anne could extricate herself from Rose’s sticky fingers, the kitchen door swung open and Cissy breezed in, trailing a rather bemused, but obviously besotted, young airman behind her.
‘I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye,’ she said. ‘This is James, by the way. He’s been such a sweetie to drive me down from the base.’
Peggy smiled at the young flying officer, who’d blushed to the roots of his hair at Cissy’s praise, and then went to hug her daughter. Cissy was elegant in her WAAF uniform, her fair hair neatly pinned back beneath the jaunty cap, her slender figure enhanced by the rather severe jacket and straight skirt. She’d always been the lively one, the romantic with a soft heart who fell in and out of love at the drop of a hat, and Peggy rather hoped that this James was not the next victim – he looked rather nice.
Peggy smiled at her daughters, delighted to have them together, however briefly. ‘It’s so lovely to see you, Cissy,’ she breathed as they hugged.
‘Well, I couldn’t let her go without giving this precious girl a big kiss, could I?’ she asked, her big blue eyes full of laughter. She reached for Rose and recoiled. ‘Yuk,’ she grimaced. ‘She’s all sticky with jam and bits of egg.’
‘To be sure, you were the same at that age, Cissy,’ laughed Jim. ‘All babies are messy eaters, so they are, and—’
‘You’ll find out for yourself one day,’ interrupted Peggy, shooting him a warning look.
Jim gave a deep sigh and turned his attention to Cissy’s young man, sitting him down with a cup of tea and the offer of a cigarette. It was clearly time for the men to form some sort of barrier against the noise of all those chattering females. With all the girls talking at once, it was hard for Mrs Finch to follow what they were saying, but that didn’t put her off in the slightest and she joined in with gusto.
Peggy sat back, warmed by the sight of her two beautiful daughters as they hastily bathed Rose Margaret in the kitchen sink and changed her into clean clothes. They weren’t alike at all, one dark, the other fair, and as children, had fought like cats. Yet now they were young women, they’d formed a very close bond, especially since Anne had had Rose. She began to daydream about the tiny being that was growing inside her. Would it be dark or fair, a girl or boy? Would it have Jim’s eyes, or Anne’s smile?
‘Mum! Mum, whatever’s the matter?’
‘What?’
‘I’ve been talking to you and you haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying.’ Cissy pouted. ‘You looked as if you were miles away.’
Peggy pulled her ragged thoughts together. ‘Sorry, darling. I was wool-gathering.’
‘Martin’s arrived, and he wants to know if it’s all right to take the old cot. Only Violet doesn’t have one, and he can easily tie it to the roof of the car.’
‘Better he leaves it here,’ said Jim.
Cissy frowned. ‘Whatever for, Dad? William’s got his own, and our old thing probably won’t be needed again for years.’
Jim opened his mouth to say something but Peggy hastily forestalled him. ‘Of course they can take it. Anne can have the old pram as well if she wants.’
‘He’s driving a small Ford, Mum, not an army truck or Aunt Doris’s Bentley.’ Cissy put her hands on her hips and gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Honestly, Mum, what is the matter with you this morning?’
‘Nothing,’ Peggy said briskly, and hurried into the hall to see if there was anything she could do to help. But Ron had already dismantled the cot and was tying it firmly to the roof of the car, Martin was stacking cases in the boot, and Jim had followed her out and was now standing with young James, their heads buried beneath the bonnet of the little car, deep in contemplation of its working parts.
The car was finally packed, and Anne took a last look round the bedroom to make sure she’d remembered everything. She stood in the hall of Beach View Boarding House with Rose Margaret on her hip, clearly torn between leaving her home and parents for the second time, and the need to take her baby to safety.
Peggy put her arms round them both. ‘Take care, darling,’ she murmured, kissing her cheek. ‘And ring me the minute you get down to Violet’s so that I know you’ve arrived safely.’ She kissed Rose’s sweet face, breathed in her precious baby smell and stepped back, unable to prolong the agony of this parting.
With her arms folded tightly about her thickened waist, she watched Anne say goodbye to Ron and her father, and then gently kiss Mrs Finch. Cissy of course made a great drama out of the whole thing by bursting into tears and had to be soothed by the ever-helpful James.
As everyone milled about in the hall, Peggy’s emotions were all over the place. She wanted this moment to be over, but didn’t want them to leave; wanted to tell everyone about the baby she was expecting, but knew this was not the time. So she stood dumbly to one side, waiting.
‘I’ve got ten days’ leave,’ said Martin as he came to stand beside her. ‘So I’ll be with her while sh
e settles in. Don’t fret, Peggy. They’ll both be safer there.’
‘I know,’ she said, and dredged up a smile.
He squeezed her arm in sympathy and went over to Anne. ‘Come on, darling,’ he said firmly. ‘We have a long drive ahead of us, and nobody likes drawn-out farewells.’
Jim came to stand beside Peggy on the top step as Martin settled Anne and the baby in the passenger seat. She leaned against him, glad of his sturdy support in this painful moment, but couldn’t quite manage to stop her tears as Anne waved out of the window and Martin drove off down the street.
And then they were gone, the sound of the car’s engine fading into the distance until there was silence again.
Jim gently steered her back into the house and closed the door. ‘It’s all right, Peg,’ he said, his own voice unsteady. ‘This war will soon be over, and then we’ll have all our chicks home again.’
Peggy nodded, but she had the darkest dread in her heart that this war was far from over, and that it could be years before she saw them again.
As June ended, all the war news concerned Germany’s shocking invasion of Russia, and their capture of Minsk. In the first week of July Stalin called for a ‘Scorched Earth’ policy, but seven days later the Germans crossed into the Ukraine and Britain made a pact of mutual assistance with Russia.
The heavy bombing raids in Cliffehaven lessened, although there were a few tip-and-runs that caught everyone on the hop, and the noise of British aircraft taking off and landing at the nearby base had become such a familiar background to everyday life that no one noticed it much any more.
Julie was busier than ever on her rounds, for there was still no sign of another district nurse joining the practice, and Jess had left to begin her training at the hospital. Eunice was unhelpful as usual, Michael continued to keep his distance, and his father was spending more time in his garden than in his consulting room. However, William’s health was improving by the week, and his last check-up had shown that his heart rhythm had steadied, the murmur almost inaudible. It seemed the prognosis was correct, her hopes fulfilled, for his heart was quietly mending itself.
It was now the middle of July and she returned to Beach View Boarding House after another long day, aching for a cool soak in the bath before supper. But William seemed to have other ideas. He was fretful and stubborn, refusing his food and wriggling away from her when she tried to soothe him. ‘Do you think he feels a bit warm, Peggy?’ she asked.
‘He is a bit,’ she replied, feeling his forehead. ‘But it’s been a hot day and all that crying won’t have helped. I’d give him a cool bath and move the cot under the open window, if I were you. It’s going to be a sticky night.’
‘Yes,’ Julie murmured, still not really convinced. Yet there was no rash, no cough, no wheezing in his chest or runny nose. She was probably just making a fuss over nothing.
Having shared a cool bath with him, she gave him a bottle of formula to soothe him further and laid him in the cot in just a vest and nappy. She didn’t leave him under the window as Peggy had suggested, since the night air could quickly turn cold, and she didn’t want to risk him getting a chill. She kissed him goodnight, left the nightlight glowing on the bedside table and went back downstairs.
‘I’m going to Eileen’s for an hour or so,’ she said as she ate her supper of sausage, potato and tomatoes. ‘But I won’t be late back. William’s still rather warm, and I have an early start in the morning.’
‘That’s fine, dear,’ said Peggy. ‘I’ll keep an ear open for him.’ She regarded Julie over her teacup. ‘You and Eileen seem to be getting on better now,’ she said casually.
Julie nodded. ‘It was a bit tricky at first, but we had a long talk and cleared the air. I feel sorry for her, really,’ she sighed, pushing back her empty plate. ‘She’s awfully lonely, and I don’t think her councillor friend is about to propose. He’s too stuck in his ways.’
‘It can’t be easy for her,’ murmured Peggy. ‘But then, if you don’t mind my saying so, she only has herself to blame.’
Julie acknowledged her comment with a smile. ‘She can be daunting, I grant you. But I think that under all that gloss there’s a woman just crying out to have a home and family of her own.’
Julie looked at Peggy and saw something in her expression that told her she knew about Eileen’s baby. ‘She told me about what happened all those years ago,’ she said softly. ‘And I think that, as time has gone on, she’s frightened she won’t get another chance of being a mother.’
Peggy sipped her tea and lit a cigarette, her expression guarded. ‘I knew something of what happened back then, but of course one never learns the full story, just snippets of gossip here and there.’
Julie decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell Peggy, for she knew it wouldn’t go any further, and wanted to put the record straight so she’d see Eileen in a better light.
‘So, you see,’ she finished some time later, ‘she understood completely how I felt when I thought William would be taken away, and I’ll always be grateful to her for being so supportive.’
Peggy mashed out her cigarette. ‘I’m glad you’ve made it up with her,’ she said. ‘Family is so important – especially these days.’
Julie washed and dried her supper things, collected a cardigan in case it got cold later, and hurried off with a cheery wave.
Peggy eased her back as she pushed up from the table and headed down the cellar steps to the garden, where Mrs Finch was dozing in one of the elderly deckchairs Jim had resurrected from the shed at the first sign of a proper summer.
The early evening was warm and scented with lavender, rosemary and thyme, which Ron had planted in a big pot by the back door, and she could hear music coming from a nearby wireless. Ron was at the Anchor, Jim was in his projection room at the Odeon, and the girls had arranged to meet Cissy for a drink in the town. Cissy would be coming home for the night, which was a rare occurrence these days – and although she was delighted to have her home, she was rather nervous about it, for she and Jim had decided it would be the perfect opportunity to tell everyone about the baby.
She sank into one of the other deckchairs and stared up at the sky, wondering what Cissy’s reaction would be to her news. Jim had promised to be with her when she told her, but she had a nasty feeling Cissy would blow a fuse.
Mrs Finch snorted in her sleep and Peggy smiled. The old dear seemed able to doze off at the drop of a hat, and she envied her. This baby was a lively one already, especially at night when she was just aching for sleep. She ran her hand softly over the small, neat swell of her stomach which still lay hidden beneath her voluminous wrap-round apron, her thoughts turning to Julie and Eileen.
It was clear that Eileen had been liberal with the truth, telling Julie only the things that would put her in a good light and evoke sympathy. In fact there was a whole lot more to that story, a much darker side that revealed how cunning and self-seeking Eileen Harris really was. And poor Rosie Braithwaite had been caught right in the middle of it.
Eventually Peggy roused Mrs Finch from her doze and they went indoors as the warmth seeped away from the evening. Switching on the wireless so it would warm up in time for the nine o’clock news, she went upstairs to check on William.
He was still rather warm, and his sleep was restless, but his breathing was even, so it seemed it was just the weather getting to him. She drew the thin blanket over him and checked the window and the blackout curtains were closed before leaving the door ajar and returning to the kitchen.
‘I still can’t get over not having Rose Margaret asleep in the pram,’ she said to Mrs Finch as they settled down with a cup of tea after listening to the news. ‘The house seems empty without her, and I’m sure little William misses her.’
Mrs Finch raised a grey brow and regarded her over the top of her glasses. ‘By my reckoning,’ she said dryly, ‘the spare pram won’t be empty for long.’
Peggy put her hand protectively over her stomach and blushed.
‘Early December,’ she breathed. ‘But how did you guess?’
‘I caught sight of you and Jim one morning around the time Anne left for Somerset. You both had a look of intensity about you, and he rested his hand on your stomach so tenderly that it left little doubt.’ She smiled happily. ‘I was waiting for you to tell everyone, but when you didn’t, I thought it best not to say anything.’
‘I wanted to keep it to myself for a bit,’ Peggy admitted.
Mrs Finch cocked her head, her expression concerned and kindly. ‘How do you feel about it, Peggy? Must have come as a bit of a shock?’
Peggy giggled. ‘You can say that again,’ she spluttered. ‘But once I’d got used to the idea, I realised how lucky I am. There’s not many women my age who get another chance at this, and I aim to enjoy every last moment of it.’
‘What’s all this about getting a second chance, Mum?’ Cissy appeared in the doorway and plonked herself down in a kitchen chair, shedding her gas-mask box and handbag on the floor beside her. ‘What have you done? Won a sweepstake or something?’
Peggy was startled by Cissy’s arrival and immediately worried about just how much she’d heard. ‘You’re home early,’ she said dazedly. ‘Where are the others?’
‘On their way,’ Cissy replied impatiently. ‘Come on, Mum. Spill the beans. You’re obviously excited about something, and you and Grandma Finch look like cats that have swallowed a canary.’
Peggy glanced at Mrs Finch, who gave a small shrug. ‘It’s up to you, dear, but it would probably be best if you told her first. She is family, after all.’
Peggy licked her lips as Cissy leaned towards her, her face alight with curiosity and excitement. ‘Your father and I—’ she began.
‘Yes,’ said Cissy impatiently.
Peggy couldn’t look at her daughter, for she was suddenly terrified of what her reaction might be. She placed her hand on the swell of her belly. ‘I’m having a baby,’ she said.
