They were in the car now and on the way back to New World, and since Mrs Hollis seemed remarkably resilient, Skye decided there was no time like the present to say what she had to say. While she still had the courage.
‘It must have been a shock, though, and you may not be feeling it properly yet, so you’re very welcome to stay with us for a while until you’re properly recovered.’
‘We wanter stay wiv you for ever, Mrs Pen,’ Daphne wailed. ‘At least until Gary takes us to America! All the kids that went back ter London are being sent away again now.’
‘I know, Daphne,’ Skye said, ‘and I was very sorry to hear that. But if you and your Mom are going to be in Cornwall for some time, wouldn’t it be nice to have a little place of your own where Gary could come and visit you?’
Edna Hollis snorted. ‘We couldn’t afford no rent, so who’d be daft enough to give us a place of our own, missis?’
‘I would,’ Skye said calmly. ‘It’s only a cottage, but it would be yours for as long as you needed it – and you needn’t bother to pay me rent as long as you keep it clean. In fact, you’d be doing me a favour by looking after it.’
When there was no reply, she glanced at the woman sitting beside her. To her amazement Edna Hollis’s throat was working painfully. But it only took a moment for her voice to return.
‘Blimey, missis, this is such a turn-up you fair took me breath away. Nobody ever gave me nothin’ before, see, and now me and Daphne are going to have a house of our own—’
‘It’ll be just for the duration,’ Skye said hastily.
‘Oh, o’ course! Once the war’s over, we’ll be off to America, anyway.’
‘Where’s this ’ouse, Mrs Pen?’ Daphne said, scowling in the back seat. ‘I fought we was coming ter live wiv you.’
‘So you will, for a while. The cottage will need to be got ready for you, but I know you’ll like it. It’s up on the moors by the clayworks and the pottery—’
Daphne howled right in her ear. ‘I ain’t goin’ ter live all up there! I want me own bedroom at New World.’
Her reward was a clip round the ear from her mother.
‘Don’t be so bleedin’ ungrateful, Daphne,’ Edna snapped.
‘You ain’t seen where it is! How can I go ter school from up there! I won’t see Tilly nor my friends ever again!’
Skye thought there would be a good few parents who would be relieved to know that, but she spoke swiftly.
‘Daphne, you’re nearly eleven years old now, and most children change schools about that time. There’s a very nice school at Roche, which is much nearer than Truro, and you’ll make all kinds of new friends there. Besides,’ she added, ‘it probably won’t be for very long. As your mother said, once the war is over you’ll be getting ready to go to America. You’ll be able to tell your new friends all about that.’
She could feel Daphne breathing heavily down her neck. But by now, Skye knew she’d be wrestling with indignity at not staying at New World indefinitely after all, and the thought of bragging about her mother’s GI to her new school friends. In the end, pride won.
‘I s’pose we oughter have a look at this cottage then. Just ter see what we think, mind,’ she said grudgingly.
* * *
Nick came home from his chambers to have his ears blasted with the gory details of how Daphne and her mother had found out about the doodlebug that had destroyed their house and the row of houses alongside them. By then Butch was as white as a ghost and Daphne was ghoulishly elaborating about the bodies that could only be identified by bits of shoes and other objects.
‘Thank God they’re not going to be a fixture here,’ Nick said, once he and Skye were alone. ‘You’re a blessed genius to have thought of an empty clayworker’s cottage, Skye.’
‘I know,’ she said modestly. ‘And tomorrow I’m taking them up there to show them around. The place will need cleaning and airing, and a bit of paint, but Butch said he’ll be happy to help with that. The poor lamb’s just thankful that Daphne won’t be around here for too long.’
‘And you don’t think the Hollis woman will think it’s a poor place after the promise of an American paradise?’
‘Honey, I think Mrs Hollis is ready to grab anything she can get as long as it’s free,’ Skye said smartly.
But they couldn’t get rid of them for a month. The cottage needed considerable repair work, and the roof leaked. Although it was summertime now, no one knew how long the Hollis pair would have to stay there.
However, any unease they might have had about it being beneath Edna’s expectations was put to rest as soon as Skye saw her casting her eyes over the hefty clayworkers round about. Some of them were more than ready to lend a hand to their flashy new neighbour, and Skye found herself hoping that Edna’s GI Gary was going to be man enough to cope with her.
All the same, it was an uneasy month, and Skye involved herself in securing a place at the Roche school for Daphne. The girl still wanted to see her old friends, though, and cycled all the way into Truro especially to tell Tilly Green about the night the doodlebug had fallen on their house. Nobody else could boast of such a thing, nor had any idea of what it was like, so Daphne had the world at her feet in the telling. By the time she had finished, the bomb had grown to gigantic proportions and killed everyone for miles around.
It was a huge relief to everyone when she and her mother were finally able to move into the clayworker’s cottage on the moors, and Daphne could torment the life out of her new schoolfriends at Roche with her outrageous stories. Life at New World could revert to its harmonious level again.
* * *
Rumours that Hitler had been assassinated, or was about to be, were in full flood during the next few months, more in hope than fact. Plots to be rid of him abounded, even by his own officers, and it was reported in the press that in the so-called People’s Court a number of them were cruelly executed for their part in such betrayal of the Führer.
‘It’s surely a measure of how things are going in our favour,’ Skye said, scanning every newspaper. ‘Hitler must see that there’s no hope for him to win this war if his own officers are plotting to kill him. Paris and much of Europe is under the control of the Allies at last, and now that the Russians have cut off much of the Germans’ oil supplies in Romania, the country must be in a state of panic. How much longer can they hold out?’
‘I don’t know,’ Nick said. ‘But there’s one thing I’m sure about. They’ll have their Maker to answer to when the full story of these concentration camps emerge.’
Skye glanced at him. Nick was a good man, but not a religious one, and when he resorted to mentioning God in any form, she always knew his thoughts were serious.
‘David showed you some of the horror stories he’s not prepared to print, didn’t he?’ she said quietly.
‘He did, and in my opinion he should damn well print every one of them. People should know what kind of evil bastards these men are,’ Nick said savagely.
Skye shuddered. The thought that anyone of theirs should ever be imprisoned in such terrible circumstances – as the Jewish friends and relatives of sweet Georgie Rosenbloom, all of who had never been seen or heard of again, had been— was too stomach-turning to think about. And yet, not to think about them was to deny that they ever existed. Georgie had killed himself because the pain of it was too much for him to bear, and such atrocities should never be forgotten.
‘In the order of things, we’ve been lucky, haven’t we, Nick?’ she said slowly. ‘We didn’t think so when we heard about poor Justin, but he’s safe in Yorkshire now with the friend who’s caring for him. We didn’t think so when Fanny was killed in an air raid, or when Seb was wounded and Celia had her breakdown. But our three have survived, and we have to be thankful for that. I thank God every day for it.’
‘It’s not over yet though, and until a peace treaty is signed, it would be foolish to be too complacent, darling.’
‘I’m not going to be a pessimist, either
,’ she said stubbornly. ‘It’s not my style.’
* * *
By November it had become common knowledge that the Nazis were retreating all over Europe. The more disillusioned German soldiers were voluntarily surrendering in the liberated French and Belgian cities, and as if to underline Skye’s hopes for the future, Celia arrived home like a whirlwind.
‘I’ve had a letter from Moonie,’ she announced, her blue eyes blazing with excitement. ‘The old darling hadn’t given up on me all this time, Mom, and he’s got some information about Stefan at last!’
‘And from the way you came bursting in here it’s obviously good news…’
‘The best. At least, it’s the best anyone could hope for at this time. It seems that some of the captors holding political prisoners hostage have begun to panic over reprisals at the end of the war, and are letting them go.’
‘Is Stefan a political prisoner?’
‘More like a moral one, I’d say, for simply refusing to hand over his home to the Gestapo until he had no choice. But it amounts to the same thing.’
‘So where does Moonie say he is now?’
Celia’s elation faded a little. ‘He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know if Stefan is involved. It’s just general information, but I have to keep my hopes alive that Stefan has been freed, Mom, and that somehow he’ll be able to contact me soon. I have to believe that, don’t I?’
Her eyes shone for a different reason now. They brimmed with the tears she refused to shed, and Skye’s heart ached for her. The information was all so hazy, no more than a thread of hope, but she knew how desperate Celia was to cling to it. She could see it by the way she twisted the pearl and garnet ring on her finger.
In all this time, Celia had never lost faith that she would find her lover again, and Skye wasn’t about to dash her hopes.
‘We all have to believe it, darling,’ she said softly. ‘I’m sure your Captain Moon wouldn’t have raised your hopes unnecessarily. He must think there’s a good chance that Stefan will be freed, and he’ll be in touch as soon as he possibly can. But you know how difficult that may be, so you’ll just have to be patient a while longer, honey.’
‘I can be patient for ever as long as I know Stefan’s coming back to me.’
At her mother’s doubtful look she gave a rueful laugh, because both of them knew it would take more than all the tea in China to give her patience.
The telephone rang as they were speaking, and Celia pressed her shaking hands together as Skye picked up the receiver, certain that fate had sent her here on this very day, and that she was about to hear Stefan’s voice at last.
‘It’s Wenna,’ Skye said, turning away from the sick disappointment in Celia’s eyes, and holding the instrument away from her ear for a second as her younger daughter’s voice came over the wire.
‘Darling, that’s wonderful, and Celia’s had good news too. Stefan hasn’t contacted her yet, but we have great hopes that he may be safe,’ she added, more for Celia’s benefit than Wenna’s. ‘You’ll come down to see us as soon as you can get some leave, won’t you? And try to bring Harry home for Christmas.’
She hung up, still smiling. This was turning out to be a very special day, she thought. First Celia, and now Wenna. And then she realised that Celia still didn’t know what the call was all about, and she turned around to tell her.
But Celia was more intent on watching a boy on a bicycle toiling up the hill towards New World, and only half heard what her mother was saying.
‘Harry Mack has proposed to Wenna and she’s said yes! I’m very happy for her, though what difference it will make to her musical ambitions once the war is over, I have no idea. I doubt if either of them have considered that yet, anyway.’
Her voice trailed away as she realised that her daughter wasn’t really listening. ‘Celia, what is it?’
She caught sight of the boy on the bicycle then, and her heart seemed to leap in her chest. It wasn’t Butch Butcher, cycling home from the pottery. It was a boy on a red bicycle, the kind that the boys from the Post Office rode. With her mind still so recently full of Stefan von Gruber, all Skye could think about was that after all Celia’s hopes she was about to hear bad news.
Unless, of course, it was good news. Telegrams didn’t always have to bring bad news, did they? she thought, with desperate optimism.
‘Oh Mom—’ Celia began.
‘Keep calm, darling. It may be the news you’re waiting for. You stay here and I’ll go and see.’
It was a long while afterwards that she remembered the look on Celia’s face when she went to answer the door and took the telegram out of the boy’s hand. A look of premonition regarding something that Skye herself hadn’t had the faintest inkling about. Her own sixth sense had completely failed her, she realised as she quickly tore open the envelope and stared at the words in sick horror.
It was nothing to do with Stefan. It was a far more poignant message for Skye. ‘We regret to inform you… your son… Oliver Pengelly… missing in action…
* * *
Wenna managed to get compassionate leave and was home within twenty-four hours, her own news completely overshadowed, her face full of stark misery. Celia was still at New World, having telephoned the farmer to say there was no way she could return to her duties, because she was needed at home. His scathing reply was to tell her not to return at all except to collect her belongings.
‘To blazes with him,’ Celia snapped. ‘There are more important things than turning over his damn turnip fields. I’ll resign and go back on the trams for the duration.’
‘Can you do that?’ Wenna said, glad to talk of anything but the thing that was uppermost in all their minds.
‘God knows. And he’s not telling. But I haven’t even congratulated you on your engagement yet.’
‘Oh Celia, I can’t even think about that now. It seems so awful that Mom and I were talking so happily, and seconds later this happened. It seems—’
‘Now just stop it. If you were about to say it’s a kind of tit-for-tat thing because you were so happy, forget it. We’ve all gone through that kind of nonsense, and that’s all it is – just nonsense. I could have said the same thing because I’d just heard that Stefan might be safe – and that’s all conjecture, anyway. But I refuse to think there has to be a counterpoint for everything good that happens. It’s too ridiculous.’
All the same, she mentally crossed her fingers as she spoke, because it was all so fearfully possible. All the clever-clever professors said as much, and who was she to dispute their learnings? She did, though, and she was damn well going to stick to it, for all their sakes.
‘Look, the house is too bloody full of people this afternoon, with all the family rallying round Mom and Dad as ever, and I’m badly in need of some fresh air. It’s the one thing I miss about the farming lark, I guess. Let’s go up to the pottery. I want to make a phone call, and I can do it easier away from the house. I don’t want Mom to hear it. Will you come with me?’
‘Gladly,’ Wenna said promptly. ‘I never thought I’d say it, but the house is stifling me too. In the circumstances I haven’t said anything to Mom yet about my future plans, but when Harry and I are married, we’re going to live in Canada. His folks have a ranch there, and they breed horses.’
‘It sounds wonderful. And Stefan and I will be managing our own hotel in Gstaad,’ Celia went on determinedly, ‘so we’ll all be scattering again, won’t we?’
But she avoided Wenna’s eyes, knowing they were really thinking of Olly, and wondering if he’d be coming home at all.
‘By the way, the infant Butch intends to stay here for ever,’ Celia said suddenly. ‘Did you know?’
‘Thank God for Butch,’ Wenna said, and they both knew what she meant. ‘Anyway, what’s this important phone call you’re going to make that you couldn’t make at home?’
‘You’ll see.’
* * *
Adam Pengelly was about to close the pottery for the day,
and his face became anxious when he saw his two nieces approach. He was clearly afraid to ask if there was any more news of Olly, but Celia forestalled the question.
‘We’ve heard nothing else, Adam, but I want to use the telephone here. Is that all right? Only it upsets Mom to hear me talking too much about it at home,’ she said glibly.
‘Of course it’s all right, my dear. Just click the door shut when you’ve finished and it’ll lock itself… Me and Felicity intended calling at New World this evening. What do you think? Does your mother want company?’
Celia managed a smile. ‘When we left, Seb and his mother and all the Kingsley clan were there, and Butch was handing out lemonade and keeping Lily’s kids amused. It does Mom good to be surrounded by folk, Adam, so go whenever you like.’
Nice as he was, he was an old fusspot, and she wished he would go away now, so that she could put the call through to the special number she kept locked in her memory. Once there was no one at the pottery but herself and Wenna, she picked up the phone and asked for the number she wanted.
After what seemed like an age she heard the efficient, well-remembered tones come over the wire.
‘Hello Moonie,’ she said huskily.
‘Celia! By all that’s holy, it’s a joy to hear your voice. How are you, my dear girl? But I hardly need to ask, do I? I take it this call is on account of the letter I sent you, and I wish I’d been able to tell you more—’
‘Moonie, it’s not because of your letter, although of course I was overjoyed to get it, and I wanted to thank you for not giving up on me.’
‘As if I would,’ he said heartily. ‘But if it’s not about your fiancé, then what is it? I must say, you’re not quite as bubbling as I expected you to be, so tell old Captain Moonlight what’s wrong.’
A Brighter Tomorrow Page 26
