by Ellie Dean
Peggy returned to sorting the letters. Ivy had one from her younger siblings who’d been evacuated to a tiny market town near Salisbury, and one from her mother. Rita’s father had written, as had Peter Ryan, and Peggy knew the girl would be thrilled to hear their news, for there hadn’t been any letters for over a week and she’d begun to get worried.
Peggy’s hand stilled as she came to the letter for Fran, and hope flared that it might be from one of her family – but it bore a London postmark, and was therefore probably from one of her nursing colleagues who’d gone up there at the start of the war.
She set it aside and quickly plucked out the bills from the gas and electricity board – she’d see to them later – and finally found Jim’s letters. There were two each for her and Ron, plus a large and intriguing stiff brown envelope addressed to both of them.
She was about to open it when Ron came stomping through the door with muddy boots and a streaming poacher’s coat, followed by a soaking wet Harvey who bounded in and shook himself vigorously, sending dirty splatters all over her lovely clean kitchen as well as Daisy and Queenie.
‘Get him out of here and dry him off,’ she said crossly as Queenie bolted for her shelf above the sink. ‘Look at the mess he’s made – and you’re no better – you’re dripping all over my clean floor.’
Ron blew out his cheeks, grabbed Harvey by the collar and plodded back down to the scullery muttering under his breath and leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind him.
Peggy abandoned the post and cleaned up Daisy, who didn’t seem at all fazed at being drenched but objected strongly to having her clothes changed and let Peggy know it by yelling and thrashing about.
Peggy wrestled with her and got her dressed again, and to the accompaniment of Daisy’s temper tantrum, fetched the floor cloth and bucket from under the sink.
In the middle of all this Cordelia arrived in the kitchen and took charge of Daisy, who shut up immediately and smiled at her with beatific innocence. ‘I see Ron and Harvey have come back,’ she said, plonking Daisy in a chair and handing her a colouring book and crayons. ‘You should make him clean up the mess, Peggy, not do it yourself.’
‘I would if I thought he’d do it properly,’ she replied, running the cloth over the floor with rather more vigour than was necessary. ‘Unfortunately, he usually makes more mess than we started out with.’ She wrung out the cloth as if it was Ron’s neck. ‘There’s some letters for you, by the way,’ she added. ‘And the papers are on the chair drying out.’
‘Oh, good,’ said Cordelia. ‘The local paper is supposed to be doing a piece on the golf club today, and Bertie is rather hoping he’ll be mentioned as he’s just been elected as club president.’
‘Goodness me,’ breathed Peggy, giving the floor a final wipe over and then resting back on her heels. ‘I didn’t realise he was even up for it.’
‘He’s extremely well thought of at both clubs,’ said Cordelia proudly. ‘In fact, there has been talk of him taking over as chairman at the Officers’ Club – which would be a real coup.’
Cordelia settled down next to Daisy at the table to read the local paper. She started at the back as usual to see who’d died before going on to the announcements of requests for probate, court appearances and bankruptcies – she liked to keep up with all the local goings-on.
Peggy tipped away the dirty water and returned the bucket and cloth to the shelf beneath the sink just as Ron emerged sheepishly at the door with Harvey restrained in a tight grip.
‘Is it safe to come in now? We’re both dry and I’ve cleaned Harvey’s feet.’
Peggy’s flare of annoyance died and she smiled. ‘Of course it is. Sorry I shouted, Ron, but the pair of you really are the limit.’ She reached for the kettle. ‘I expect you’d like a cup of tea after being out in that,’ she said. ‘And we’ve both got letters from Jim.’
‘Good heavens!’ yelped Cordelia. ‘I don’t believe it!’
‘What’s got you all stirred up, old girl?’ asked Ron. ‘Someone died and left you a fortune, have they?’
‘Look,’ she said, stabbing a finger at the paper. ‘Look there and see for yourselves.’
Ron and Peggy crowded round her to see what she was pointing at and they gasped when they saw Jim’s photograph below the headline on the front page.
LOCAL HERO MENTIONED IN DISPATCHES
Local hero, Second Lieutenant James Reilly, has been mentioned in dispatches for his bravery in rescuing a comrade whilst injured and under enemy fire during a fierce battle in Burma.
James Reilly, known locally as Jim, has lived in Cliffehaven all his life and was the projectionist at the Odeon cinema, escaping injury when it was firebombed in the early stages of the war. James saw action in 1917 as a very young man and returned to the Royal Engineers to fight for his country when war broke out again.
He was subsequently drafted into the Chindits, which is a specialised branch of the 14th Army that has been highly trained in jungle warfare, and has seen action in India and Burma since 1942. Following his discharge from hospital, James is expected to rejoin his regiment in the fight to drive the Japanese out of Burma.
Second Lieutenant Reilly is married to the highly regarded Peggy (née Dawson) who is running Beach View Boarding House as a haven for evacuees as well as working at Solomon Goldman’s factory and caring for their youngest daughter, Daisy.
The editor and staff of the Cliffehaven Gazette are extremely proud to make this announcement, and I’m sure our readers will join us in wishing Second Lieutenant Reilly Godspeed and a safe return home to his family.
‘Oh my,’ breathed Peggy, sitting down with a thump and taking charge of the newspaper. ‘What wonderful news; and look how handsome he is. I’m so proud of him I could burst.’
‘He won’t appreciate being an officer again,’ said Ron, unable to hide his own pride. ‘But he wouldn’t have been commissioned if he hadn’t earned it.’ He reached for the large brown envelope. ‘I bet I know what this is,’ he said, slitting it open.
Peggy and Cordelia gasped as Ron carefully placed the certificate on the table. ‘It’s signed by the King,’ breathed Peggy in awe, not quite daring to trace her finger over the signature and very important-looking seal.
Daisy went to grab it and Ron snatched it out of her reach. ‘I’ll find a frame for it before it gets damaged,’ he said as Daisy’s expression became stormy. ‘Ach, Daisy, this is a very special thing about your da,’ he soothed. ‘You can look, but you mustn’t touch, wee girl.’
‘Dada?’ Daisy frowned as she eyed the certificate which clearly meant nothing to her.
Peggy quickly showed her the picture of Jim in the paper. ‘This is Dada, Daisy. He’s a very brave soldier – so brave the King has given him an award.’
‘Dada!’ Daisy clapped her hands and looked at the photograph. ‘Dada come home now?’
Peggy drew her close and had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could reply. ‘Not yet,’ she managed, kissing the top of her daughter’s head. ‘He’s very busy, you see – but he’ll come home soon.’
Daisy lost interest, wriggled from her mother’s embrace and returned to her colouring book, so Peggy carefully placed the certificate on the mantelpiece, propping it up against the large framed photograph of the King and Queen so that everyone could see it.
Ron cut the report from the newspaper and tucked it between the photographs on the mantelpiece before going out to his shed to see if had any wood he could use to make frames for those two precious bits of paper.
‘Well, Bertie got his name in the paper too,’ trilled Cordelia, ‘but Jim’s news is far more exciting. Do hurry up and open his letters, dear. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say about it all.’
Peggy swiftly opened the earliest of Jim’s two letters, and after another glance at the newspaper photograph, began to read.
My darling Peggy,
Thank you for the letters, cards and photographs you’ve all sent to me over the
last months, they certainly helped cheer me up, and I can’t believe how much Daisy has grown. I had hoped I’d be at home for her birthday, but of course that’s impossible, and all I can do is pray that I shall be with you for her next one. Give her a kiss and cuddle for me and tell her I love her, even though she will have no memory of me. It makes me sad to think of the years I’ve lost with her and the others, but this war has to be won if they’re to have a secure future, and I shall make it up to all of you when I get back.
I’m not sure I’m entirely happy about you getting more involved at Solly’s, although it sounds as if the pay is very good, and I’m proud that Solly thinks so highly of you. Still, you clearly feel you need to do your bit, as they say, but once the war’s over and the volume of work slows down to a trickle, he won’t need you as much and you can spend more time at home looking after me and the rest of the family. We’ve all been apart for too long, it will be wonderful to be a real family again, and to get to know the grandchildren.
I’m writing this on my last night in hospital, as I will be discharged first thing and sent on leave for a couple of weeks before I return to my regiment. I have no idea where I’m going, but I’m looking forward to getting out of here and away from the depressing sight of injured men and the smell of disinfectant.
Of course I shall miss the nurses, Sarah Fitzpatrick in particular, for she’s a jolly good sort and brightens everyone’s day – and there are a couple of chaps I’ve become friendly with, who I hope to stay in touch with. But the thought of being free to come and go as I please for a couple of weeks is something I’ve dreamed about for so long, I can hardly wait. I have no real idea where I’ll be billeted, and I doubt the censor would let me tell you even if I did. But I’m hoping for the seaside rather than the mountains, because I miss the sound and smell of the sea after being away from home for so long.
I do have some rather surprising news for you, which you might already have heard about with the post being so erratic. But I’ve been mentioned in dispatches and promoted to Second Lieutenant.
I’m a bit dubious about it all, to be honest, Peggy. I didn’t deserve the MiD, and certainly never wanted the commission – you know how little respect I’ve always had for officers after those idiots made so many blunders during the first shout. But the pay’s much better, which should be a real help to you, and being an officer – albeit a very junior one – I’ll probably be amongst the first to be sent home once all this is over.
We get to hear the BBC World Service and the Forces broadcasts on the wireless, so I know how the war in Europe is progressing, and by the sound of it, they’re doing better than us over here! Stay safe, Peggy, what with the doodlebugs and so on, and I hope both Cordelia and Daisy enjoy their birthday celebrations.
Any mail will be forwarded on, so just keep writing to the same address and it will get to me wherever I am. I love you, Peggy, and if I have a chance, I’ll do some shopping when I’m on leave, and send you all presents for Christmas.
Love, kisses and hugs,
Your Jim. xxx
‘Well, Cordelia, he doesn’t say very much about it at all,’ said Peggy, handing the letter to her. ‘But he’s certainly not happy about me taking on extra responsibilities at Solly’s.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ said Cordelia. ‘Jim’s like most men – he expects his wife to be at his beck and call.’ She chuckled. ‘But I get the feeling he won’t be the only man to have his nose put out of joint when he comes home to find his wife is enjoying earning her own money too much to spend all her days tied to the kitchen sink.’
Peggy smiled. ‘Going by the number of women who’ve signed up to stay on at Solly’s at least until the demob suit contract is fulfilled, you could be right, Cordy. But time will tell. None of us knows how we’ll feel when it is all finally over.’
She opened Jim’s second letter which contained several black and white snapshots. She smiled as she pored over each one, for Jim had certainly got his wish to be beside the sea, and it looked very different to what Cliffehaven had to offer.
The beach was a long stretch of pale sand shaded by palm trees, and fishing boats of all shapes and sizes and bedecked in flags and ribbons were moored in the shallows. Small stalls had been set up in the shade selling everything, it seemed, from food and drink to beach towels and umbrellas, and Peggy could only imagine how colourful it all must be.
Jim was clearly having a good time and looked very well as he grinned into the camera alongside a group of other men, or lounged in a rattan chair on a flower-bedecked veranda being waited upon by an Indian servant who looked splendid in a turban and exotic clothing. The last photograph was of Jim sitting shoulder to shoulder with a large, burly man and laughing uproariously about something as they saluted the photographer with bottles of beer.
Peggy set aside the photographs and eagerly began to read.
Darling Peggy,
Well, here I am and it’s all smashing – but the very best part of it all, is that Big Bert is here too! I couldn’t believe it when I saw him walking towards me as I arrived, and it was an even bigger shock to discover he’d been made up to Second Lieutenant as well!
Mind you, he deserves it after all the years he’s been in the army, and I hope he doesn’t do anything to be demoted again. He’s lost his pips twice before, you see – once for getting drunk and smashing up the mess, and then for hitting another officer who was being obnoxious. Big Bert does like a drink, but unfortunately it brings out the worst in him, so I’m going to have to keep him on the straight and narrow and make sure we get through the next lot together.
This place is a real paradise and most of the other men are a pretty good bunch who’ve come up through the ranks and don’t put on airs and graces. I’m feeling really fit after swimming every day and going for runs on the beach. The sand is very soft and it’s hard going, but Bert’s determined to get me as fit as possible and is worse than a sergeant major at issuing orders. He can run surprisingly fast for a big man, and I find it hard to keep up with him, but I’m blowed if I’ll let him beat me.
The hotel is very posh, with huge bedrooms and four-poster beds that you just sink into. There are more servants than guests, so you only have to raise a finger to get a drink or something to eat. The food is good too, with lots of lovely fruit and curries so hot they burn your mouth for an hour afterwards, but the air is clean, the temperature much cooler here on the coast. There’s a very good market nearby, so I’ve managed to buy some bits and pieces for everyone which I sent off today in the hope they’ll get to you before Christmas.
Bert and I will be sorry to leave, but the time is flying by and we only have a couple of days left before we go our separate ways. He’s going back to our regiment, and I have to stay in India to be retrained before I can do the same – at least that’s what I hope, but the army has its own agenda, and they could send me anywhere.
I love you and miss you, and wish so much you could be here with me to see this place – you would love it – just as I’d love to see you in a swimsuit again!!
Jim. xxx
Peggy sighed and handed the letter and photographs to Cordelia. Jim was clearly in his element now he had Big Bert to join in his mischief-making, and she could only hope the pair of them didn’t get into too much trouble. The beach and the hotel looked wonderful and she thought wistfully of wearing a swimsuit and feeling that sand between her toes as the sun warmed her skin.
‘Fat chance of that,’ she muttered, getting up from the table to hunt out raincoats and sort out the pushchair for her walk up to the Red Cross Distribution Centre.
She had just finished dressing herself and Daisy when Bertie Double-Barrelled arrived looking dapper as always in a tweed suit beneath a very smart gabardine mac. He kissed Cordelia’s hand in greeting and smiled at Peggy as he congratulated her on Jim’s news.
‘Goodness me, I can’t possibly allow you to walk all the way up there in this weather,’ he exclaimed after Peggy had told
him where she was going. ‘You must let me drive you.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Bertie,’ she replied. ‘Are you sure it won’t be out of your way?’
‘Not at all, and I’d come and pick you up too, but I have an emergency committee meeting at the Officers’ Club straight after lunch.’
‘Would that be about you becoming chairman?’ Cordelia asked.
‘No, my dear, it’s rather more serious than that.’
‘Ooh, do tell,’ twittered Cordelia who loved a bit of gossip.
‘It’s all rather hush-hush, I’m afraid,’ said Bertie solemnly, handing Cordelia her coat and making it plain he was saying no more.
Peggy and Cordelia exchanged amused glances. Like most men, Bertie liked to have his secrets, but they’d find out eventually what it was, just as they always did.
Neither John White nor Doris had heard anything from James Harcourt since handing over her notebooks to him, which was very frustrating. In the first few days following Chumley’s visit Doris had been on tenterhooks in case he called again, or sent someone to break into her house to find them.
However, Chumley had stayed away, perhaps realising that Doris had a champion in Colonel White, for they made no secret of their burgeoning relationship and were now seen everywhere together. John had been marvellous and hugely supportive, fitting good locks and bolts on both doors, and keeping her company in the evenings, but she was still a bit jumpy every time someone knocked on the door.
It was bitterly cold, wet and windy that Saturday afternoon, and she hurried home from the office, looking forward to sitting by the fire with a bowl of hot soup. John had been called to an emergency committee meeting at the Officers’ Club, and would join her later, so she was planning to heat through the stew she’d put together earlier from the vegetables they grew in their back gardens.
