On a Turning Tide

by Ellie Dean

  Contents

  About the Author

  Also by Ellie Dean

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  The Cliffehaven Family Tree

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  A letter to readers from Ellie Dean

  Welcome to Cliffehaven Ellie Dean

  A Map of Cliffehaven

  Meet the Cliffehaven Family

  Look out for The Next Cliffehaven Novel Ellie Dean

  Lose yourself in the world of Cliffehaven

  Ellie Dean Penny Street

  Copyright

  About the Author

  On A Turning Tide is Ellie Dean’s sixteenth novel in her Cliffehaven series. She lives in a tiny hamlet set deep in the heart of the South Downs in Sussex, which has been her home for many years and where she raised her three children.

  To find out more visit www.ellie-dean.co.uk

  Also available by Ellie Dean

  There’ll Be Blue Skies

  Far From Home

  Keep Smiling Through

  Where the Heart Lies

  Always in my Heart

  All My Tomorrows

  Some Lucky Day

  While We’re Apart

  Sealed With a Loving Kiss

  Sweet Memories of You

  Shelter from the Storm

  Until You Come Home

  The Waiting Hours

  With a Kiss and a Prayer

  As the Sun Breaks Through

  Acknowledgements

  Due to the tragic turn of events in On a Turning Tide, I had to turn for advice to those whose medical knowledge far outreaches mine. To Dr Paul Frisby MBB, neighbour and friend, thank you so much for spending the evening before going on holiday sending me links to the appropriate websites, and for discussing with me the aspects of what I was trying to achieve. You’re the kindest, most generous man, and certainly know how to make a party go with a swing!

  Dr Keith Maybury FRCS, retired Consultant in General and Vascular Surgery, and his lovely wife Sara. Thank you for a wonderful day at Henley – Ollie and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and through Keith’s vast knowledge of rowing, actually managed to learn something! Thank you, too, for listening to my questions about the medical problems relating to my character in the book, and then introducing me to your colleague and friend, Brian Livingstone.

  Dr Brian Livingstone FRCS, retired Consultant Orthopaedic Surgeon. I am hugely indebted to you for your enthusiastic approach to the task in hand. I so appreciated your correspondence setting out the medical situation I was writing about, and the great deal of research you undertook into how the treatment would have been in 1945. These letters included passages from medical books and journals written at the time; photographs and advice on the medicines and treatments available – and the ultimate prognosis. You have been the most marvellous help in all this, patiently dealing with what were probably silly questions, and treating my patient as if he were real and in your care. Thank you too for your very pleasant company at Henley. Any mistakes I’ve made are my own, which I hope you will forgive.

  1

  Cliffehaven

  1944

  Life had been hectic at Beach View over the past few weeks, so Peggy appreciated the fact that Solly Goldman hadn’t pestered her to come to a decision about his very tempting job offer at the factory. Now it was late October – time to make up her mind once and for all.

  Peggy had agonised over what to do about it as the war news had at first brought hope and then huge disappointment. It would definitely be a step up to oversee the shop floor, and the increase in her pay would make a massive difference to her situation at home now that Ron was about to move into the Anchor with Rosie. Then again, if the war did come to an end – however impossible that seemed at the moment – it would mean spending less time with Jim and her family when they eventually came home.

  She gave a regretful sigh as she finished sewing the bell-bottom trousers and cut the thread. The mood amongst the women in the busy uniform factory was solemn, and mirrored her own, for there had been such excitement and hope when the Allied airborne assault on the Netherlands had begun. Operation Market Garden had been expected to open the way over the Rhine and into the heart of Germany, thereby bringing an end to the war in Europe before Christmas. The news that it had been an unmitigated disaster with thousands of Allied troops killed, in retreat or taken prisoner, was a bitter blow – compounded by the fact that the Polish Home Army’s uprising had ended in surrender to the Germans, the Japanese were still fiercely defending their foothold in Burma, and a second attempt by the legendary 617 Bomber Squadron to destroy Hitler’s fearsome battleship Tirpitz had failed.

  Emerging from her dark thoughts, Peggy realised she was due her mid-morning break. She gathered up her coat and string bag, and pushed back from her machine. She decided to take her flask of tea outside rather than sit in the noisy canteen, for the sun was bright and she needed some fresh air after the dry atmosphere of the factory, and time to think.

  There was a definite breath of autumn in the light breeze. Peggy found a sheltered sunny spot and lit a cigarette, her thoughts still occupied with what this setback in the advance of the war would mean to her and her scattered family – and how it would affect her decision about the job.

  Hitler’s V-2s were continuing to rain down in great numbers over the south-eastern counties, despite the sterling efforts of the Allied forces to find and destroy the launch sites that were hidden on the other side of the Channel, and although travel restrictions had been lifted and the blackout changed to dim-out, it still wasn’t safe to bring her daughter, two young sons and the grandchildren home from the farm in Somerset.

  Peggy had determinedly plastered on a smile and tried to stay positive throughout the five long years of struggle to keep the home fires burning in the face of shortages, ever-tightening rationing and the constant threat of death from the skies. However, there had been days when she’d barely managed to keep her anguish contained, and many a night when she’d cried into her pillow, fearful for her Jim, and desperately yearning for her absent family. Now another Christmas was looming without them – there wasn’t a glimmer of hope that this war was even close to ending – and her spirits were at their lowest ebb.

  Peggy sipped her tea and watched the little ones racing about the small playground behind the crèche. Since the V-1s and V-2s had started causing mayhem, many more children had been sent away until it was safe for them to return, and there were times when she wondered if she was being reckless in keeping Daisy with her. But life was hard enough, and selfish or not, she clung to Daisy in the desperate hope that nothing bad would happen to her.

  Daisy would be three in December, and although Jim had managed to see her as a babe in arms before he’d been posted to India, the child had no memory of him. Peggy had told her stories about Jim and made sure there were photographs of him around the house, but she suspected Daisy didn’t really understand who and what he was – and when he did finally come home, he’d be a stranger to her.

  Daisy wouldn’t be alone in that dilemma, she thought sadly. The majority of those children in the playground had fathers fighting abroad and had become used to just being with their mothers, and the sudden appearance of a man in the house would come as a shock.

&
nbsp; Peggy puffed on her cigarette and frowned as it occurred to her that as much as she longed for Jim to come home, it wouldn’t be easy to return to the routine of their life before the war. In fact, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to go back to that now she’d tasted the heady freedom of life beyond the walls of Beach View, and her own money. If she took Solly’s job then she’d be reluctant to give it up – and that could cause no end of trouble.

  Jim was a man who believed that a woman’s place was in the home and, as the breadwinner, he expected his tea on the table at six; to always have clean shirts and pressed trousers; and to reserve the right to go to the pub whenever he wanted – usually without her. In this, he was like every man she knew, and she suspected there would be ructions in most Cliffehaven homes once the men returned home expecting nothing to have changed – and finding a very different set-up.

  Impatient with these uncomfortable thoughts, she took a last puff of her cigarette and stubbed it out. There was no point in being gloomy about things. Jim’s experiences in Burma must have changed him too, and when he did come home, they would work together to steer their way through the difficulties and find a new order.

  Peggy drank her tea and watched the gulls hover above the rooftops, their mournful cries lost in the roar of the planes that seemed to be a constant background noise now they were flying sorties day and night. Even if, by some miracle, the war did end soon, it could be weeks, or even months before Jim could get home, so she might as well accept Solly’s offer while she had the chance – and deal with any fallout later.

  Having finally come to a decision, she felt her spirits lighten. She replaced the cap on her Thermos and went back inside to climb the stairs up to Solly’s office. There was no sign of Madge, his secretary, but his door was ajar, and she could see he was alone at his desk.

  ‘Hello, Solly. Have you got a minute?’

  Solly’s smile was warm as he eased his large frame out of the leather chair. ‘Oy, vay, Peggy. I always have time for you, you know that. Come in, come in.’

  Peggy had known Solly most of her life, and although some might find his large presence and big personality daunting, she’d always been comfortable with him, for beneath that façade of wealth and power beat a soft and understanding heart.

  ‘How are you, Peggy?’ he asked, lighting her cigarette and watching her intently.

  ‘Struggling on,’ she replied. ‘At least my Jim’s still safe in that hospital in India and not having to face the Japs in Burma.’ She regarded him with great sympathy. ‘I was so sorry to hear about what happened in Poland, Solly. Is there any news of your family?’

  He shook his great head, his dark eyes shadowed with pain. ‘It’s difficult to get any news out of Poland at the moment – and what has emerged is so horrifying, it’s almost better not to know what’s going on. How has young Danuta taken the defeat of the uprising?’

  Peggy gave a sigh as she thought of the Polish girl who’d returned from her dangerous missions behind enemy lines to come and live with her again at Beach View. ‘She’s being stoic as usual, but she’s bitterly disappointed it all came to nothing.’

  Solly nodded thoughtfully, and then changed the subject. ‘I hope you’ve come to tell me you’ll take up my offer, Peggy. There have been developments, and despite the fact this war looks as if it’s going to drag on into a new year, there are plans afoot and I need to get things organised.’

  Peggy frowned. ‘What developments? I thought you were planning to go back into the ladies’ wear trade again?’

  ‘I am, but I’ve just been offered something rather more lucrative than frocks and with a guaranteed income.’ His dark eyes shone with excitement, for there was nothing he relished more than a promising new business venture.

  Peggy chuckled. ‘Spit it out, Solly, before you burst your boiler.’

  ‘I tendered for another government contract and, because they’re pleased with the quality of our uniforms, they’ve awarded me a healthy slice of a new commission to make suits for the servicemen when they’re demobilised. Every man Jack of them will get a suit, Peggy, so the contract is worth a fortune.’ He leaned back in his chair with a beaming and very self-satisfied smile.

  ‘Goodness,’ breathed Peggy. ‘So the idea of making dresses is out of the window, is it?’

  ‘We can put that on hold for now. The winter’s coming and I need to get going on these demob suits so we have a good supply when the war ends. Montague Burton has the lion’s share of the contract because he’s a bigger outfit than us, but I’m determined we’ll match him in quality and speed of supply.’ He sat forward. ‘Are you with me on this, Peggy?’

  ‘I’ve thought long and hard about it, Solly,’ she confessed. ‘And it hasn’t been an easy decision. But with the fiasco of Operation Market Garden and the continuing trouble in the Far East, I’ve realised it could be ages before any of my family comes home.’ She took a steadying breath. ‘If you really think I’m up to managing the shop floor, then I’d love to give it a go.’

  He pushed himself out of his chair and came round the desk to pull her into an enthusiastic hug. ‘I knew I could rely on you,’ he said, almost squeezing the breath out of her.

  It was like being engulfed by a very large, soft cushion, and Peggy rather liked it, for it had been too long since her Jim had held her like this. She reluctantly pulled away from him, aware they could be seen through the large window that overlooked the factory floor. ‘I’ve yet to tell anyone at home,’ she said breathlessly, ‘so don’t say anything to Ron or Danuta before I do.’

  ‘I shall be discretion itself,’ he said, returning to his chair and making the springs groan beneath his bulk. ‘But don’t take too long. I want you up here on Monday morning all ready to make a start.’

  Peggy felt a stab of alarm. ‘This Monday? It’s a bit soon, isn’t it?’

  ‘This is a big operation, Peggy. Thousands of off-the-peg suits and flannel trousers will have to be made in every size imaginable, and what with the uniforms we’ll still be making for the regular servicemen, we’ll have to start recruiting extra cutters and tailors, and sound out the machinists about their future plans.’

  ‘And where do we find skilled cutters and tailors when most of the male population is in the Forces?’

  ‘I have it on good authority that the government already has a plan for demobilisation which will begin around Christmas time. Servicemen and women will start to be released from duty according to their age, theatre of war and the length of their service, and I’m sure we’ll find the skilled people we need amongst them.’

  Peggy felt a dart of hope that Jim might be one of those released from duty, but it was quickly extinguished when she realised it was highly doubtful with so much going on in Burma and the Far East.

  She pulled her thoughts together. ‘Are the service women getting suits as well?’

  Solly shrugged. ‘There was no mention of such a thing, but I doubt it.’

  Peggy felt this was unfair, but she kept her thoughts to herself. ‘How do we get the material to make the suits when clothing rations are so tight?’

  ‘The government is dealing with all that, and I can assure you, it will be of the finest wool cloth, so to start with we’ll only use the best machinists and cutters.’ He gave a sigh. ‘I wish young Gracie could be persuaded to come back. She’s a fine cutter and proved to be an excellent teacher.’

  ‘Gracie’s not coming back, Solly,’ Peggy said quietly. ‘Clive will be leaving the Dover hospital for East Grinstead soon, and the restructuring of his face could take months. He still can’t accept what happened to him, but Gracie’s determined to stay at his side. She understands how frightened he is and why he keeps pushing her away, but their marriage seems strong enough, thank goodness, to weather this awful storm. At least she has her mother’s support and doesn’t have to worry about little Chloe on top of everything else.’

  A cloud seemed to shadow Solly’s dark eyes. ‘Oy, vay, Peggy,’ he sighed. ‘
It’s a terrible world, isn’t it? You’d have thought we’d all have learned from the last shout that war is not the answer to anything.’

  ‘I’d better get back to work,’ said Peggy, not wanting to dwell on the horrors of war. ‘Talking of which, you do understand that I won’t be able to do any extra hours? I still have Daisy to look after and my responsibilities at home.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ he said airily. ‘We’ll discuss all that on Monday.’

  Peggy regarded him sharply. ‘I mean it, Solly. I won’t be doing weekends or night shifts.’

  Solly heaved a sigh. ‘I have taken your family circumstances into consideration, Peggy. My niece Loretta will share the hours with you until she leaves in November, by which time Mavis Whitlock will be here.’

  ‘And who is Mavis Whitlock?’

  ‘She’s a very capable woman who’s been helping my brother run his factory in London. Born and bred in Cliffehaven, she’s had enough of the city and now she’s been widowed, she wants to come back here.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’m sure you’ll get on just fine.’

  Peggy had lived in Cliffehaven all her life, but had never come across a Mavis Whitlock. ‘What was her maiden name?’

  ‘Anderson,’ he replied, his gaze sliding away. ‘You might remember her from school.’

  Peggy’s spirits sank. Mavis Anderson had been head girl and two years senior to Peggy, and she remembered how vindictive and bossy she’d been. She could only hope that age and experience had made her more likeable.

  Solly seemed to sense that Peggy wasn’t too happy about the arrangement, and heaved himself out of the chair to signal the end of the meeting. ‘How are the wedding plans coming along?’ he asked, escorting her to the door.

  Peggy dragged her thoughts from Mavis. ‘Rosie has a long list of things for poor Ron to see to before the big day, and I suspect he’s beginning to realise that there’s more to a wedding than just buying a new suit and turning up on time.’

  Solly grinned. ‘My Rachel was the same before our wedding. Ron should take a leaf out of my book: agree with everything, say nothing – and get on with it if he wants a quiet life.’