by Ellie Dean
April smiled. ‘Goodness. Your Ethel is resourceful, isn’t she?’
‘She certainly is,’ he said proudly. He pulled the watch from his waistcoat pocket and checked the time. ‘The four-fifteen will be in soon, just time to have the last bun and finish our tea.’
They shared the last rock cake and chatted about Ron doing best man duties and Ethel’s Ruby taking on the role of bridesmaid. ‘Hopefully it will help her cheer up a bit,’ said Stan. ‘The poor lass is feeling very low because her young man has been sent up to the wilds of Scotland. They’ve only recently got engaged, and who knows when they’ll see one another again – it certainly won’t be before this war’s over.’
April had yet to meet Ruby and therefore couldn’t really add much to the conversation, but it was clear that Stan loved the girl as if she was his own, and this made her warm even more to him.
When the last morsel of bun was devoured and the teapot had run dry, April thanked him and picked up the tray. ‘I’ll put this in the ticket office and then get back to Beach View to help Peggy with the evening meal,’ she said. ‘It’s been lovely talking to you, Stan.’
‘You be sure to come again,’ he said heartily. ‘And perhaps next time I’ll show you round my allotment.’
April returned the tea things to the Nissen hut and headed home, her thoughts troubled by the possibility that even if their friendship flourished, he would find it very hard to accept her situation and perhaps, despite his open-heartedness, even then turn his back on her.
And yet she was intrigued by what he’d said about her mother. Mildred had always been tight-lipped about her personal life, and if she was harbouring some deep secret from her past, that might explain her reluctance to talk openly. But could it also explain her coldness towards her daughter and husband?
April thought about it long and hard as she walked back to Beach View, and came to the conclusion that everyone had secrets – it was just that some never came to light, and she really had no business to delve into her mother’s private life.
The curtains had been closely drawn across the bay window overlooking the High Street, but the diffused light gave a warm hue to the flowery wallpaper and the frilly pink and white counterpane on the enormous, ornate brass bed which wouldn’t have looked amiss in a bordello. The light gleamed on the mirror above the dressing table where silver-backed hairbrushes and cut-glass bowls glowed against the highly polished mahogany, and illuminated the flattering black-and-white studio portrait of Gloria which must have been taken two decades previously.
Ron gave a sigh as he pulled on his coat, for this would be his last visit, and he was going to miss coming here. He shot a rueful grin at Gloria who was perched on the side of the bed. ‘Ach, to be sure, things will not be the same from now on,’ he sighed. ‘But it’s over, Gloria, and I’ll not be back.’
She brushed a lock of hair from her face and regarded him sadly. ‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay?’
He shook his head. ‘You know I can’t, Gloria.’
She slid off the bed, cupped his face with her hands and softly kissed his lips. ‘It’s been fun, Ron,’ she murmured, ‘and I’m going to miss your visits. Rosie’s a lucky woman.’
Ron wasn’t too sure about that, for loving him meant that Rosie had a great deal to contend with – and if she only knew the half of it, she’d run a mile.
He turned away from Gloria and headed down the stairs to the main bar where Harvey was sprawled in front of the dying fire. ‘Come on, ye heathen beast, we’ve things to do and people to see.’
Gloria had followed him down the stairs and was now unbolting the back door. ‘Don’t forget me entirely, Ron,’ she said quietly.
‘To be sure I could never forget you, Gloria Stevens,’ he said fondly. He winked, pulled on his cap and stepped out into the back yard of the Crown. ‘Just remember this is between ourselves and keep those lovely lips sealed.’
She grinned back at him. ‘You can count on that,’ she promised and then blew him a kiss before she shut the door and bolted it again.
Ron walked briskly into the alleyway and closed the large gates before heading along the narrow paths to his next destination. His mood was thoughtful, tinged with sadness that the adventure was over, and yet enormously relieved that they’d managed to keep it secret. Gloria was a remarkable woman, and if circumstances had been different, he might have taken her up on her offer – but they both knew deep down that the excitement and intrigue wouldn’t last, however much they might have wanted it to.
Harvey padded along beside him, stopping only to water a lamppost or garden wall as Ron ambled down the street of unremarkable terraced houses. Ron drew to a halt at the gate of number nineteen. He was exactly on time, and was expected. He glanced up and down the deserted street then quickly strode up the path. His rap of the knocker was answered almost immediately and with Harvey following him closely, he slipped inside.
As it was such a lovely spring day the back door was open and the kitchen window had been flung wide to make the most of the fresh air, diffusing the heat of the range fire, which had to be kept alight for cooking. Peggy was helping Cordelia prepare the vegetables for the evening meal. She’d spent most of the afternoon fretting over whether or not to forewarn Cordelia that April’s new friend was an unmarried mother. It could be very awkward if the girl came to visit, for although Cordelia was the kindest, sweetest person, she did hold certain very old-fashioned ideas, and Peggy didn’t want either of them getting upset.
‘I met April’s new friend at lunchtime,’ she said as they peeled the potatoes and carrots. ‘Her name’s Shirley, and she has the most enchanting baby boy.’
‘That’s nice, dear. Do you want these carrots sliced or chopped into fingers?’
Peggy looked in alarm at the very sharp knife in Cordelia’s unsteady hand and had visions of little fingers going into the pot alongside the carrots. ‘I’ll do those,’ she said hastily. ‘You carry on with the potato peeler.’
Cordelia gave her a wry look and handed over the knife. ‘You were saying about April’s friend,’ she murmured.
‘It’s good she’s got a baby, don’t you think?’ Peggy said carefully. ‘It gives them something else in common along with their age and circumstances.’
‘That depends on the baby,’ said Cordelia. ‘If it does nothing but screech and make a fuss, it will probably put April right off the idea – though it’s rather late in the day to have second thoughts,’ she added with a touch of asperity.
Peggy finished the carrots and covered them in cold water, unsure how to proceed with this tricky conversation.
‘You say circumstances,’ muttered Cordelia, pausing in the act of peeling. ‘Does that mean she’s not married either?’
Peggy nodded. ‘But she’s a lovely girl, well spoken and polite and clearly a very doting mother.’
Cordelia dropped the potato and peeler into the bowl of water and regarded Peggy steadily for a moment. ‘I’m sure she is, but I don’t think you should condone that sort of behaviour by encouraging this friendship, Peggy. One unmarried mother in the house is enough – two is just asking for trouble. You’ll get us all a bad name.’
‘She and April are just young girls, Cordelia,’ she replied calmly. ‘Young girls who’ve made a life-changing mistake and are doing their best to cope with all that entails. I rather admire them actually,’ she said defiantly, ‘especially Shirley.’
‘Why?’ Cordelia’s expression was suddenly wary.
Peggy took her hand and met her gaze solemnly. ‘Shirley isn’t engaged to be married, Cordelia. In fact I suspect she’s been abandoned by her baby’s father and is doing her very best to raise him on her own. And today I witnessed the appalling way people treat her because of it. It made me ashamed, Cordelia. Ashamed of my own initial disapproval, and ashamed of the people in this town who see that baby and condemn him for something of which he’s entirely innocent.’
Cordelia met Peggy’s gaze squarely
as Peggy related what had happened at the kiosk. ‘I was always brought up to believe that people – especially young women – should conduct themselves with unimpeachable honour,’ she said softly. ‘And I’m too old and set in my ways to change my opinions. But I’m horrified that some in this town are openly vilifying her.’
She withdrew her hand from Peggy’s and stared out of the window. ‘The same thing happened during the last war,’ she murmured, ‘and although it was rather shocking to see white girls with their black babies, I couldn’t understand why people thought they had the right to pass judgement on others when their own failings should have been seen too. And yet you’re telling me it’s still going on.’ She sighed deeply and turned back to face Peggy. ‘Clearly the lessons of the past haven’t been heeded.’
‘Shirley’s baby isn’t black, Cordelia.’
‘Well, I suppose that’s something to be grateful for.’
‘And surely it’s better to show some compassion regardless of what colour a baby is? They are young, foolish girls, yes, but who are we to punish them? If the girls are to be friends, then Shirley and her baby will be welcome here at Beach View, and that’s an end to it.’
‘You’re letting your soft heart rule your head, Peggy,’ Cordelia chided softly. ‘Doing such a thing will only cause a lot of gossip and ill-will against you.’
Peggy tossed her head. ‘Perhaps amongst the prejudiced, like Doris and that horrid Mabel, but I wouldn’t give tuppence for their opinions anyway.’
‘You might if it damaged your reputation, and that of the other girls living here,’ said Cordelia. She looked back at Peggy, her expression solemn. ‘How would you feel if your Cissy came home with a baby?’
‘I’d be mortified,’ she admitted.
‘There you are then.’
Peggy shook her head. ‘I’d be mortified that she’d been silly enough to get herself into trouble. But that wouldn’t stop me loving and supporting her – even if the baby turned out to be sky-blue pink with yellow spots,’ she said firmly.
‘And Jim?’
‘He’d feel the same way,’ she replied defiantly, though she had a fair idea that Jim would rant and rave and threaten all sorts before he came to his senses and accepted what had happened.
‘Then I hope neither of you are faced with such a predicament,’ said Cordelia drily. ‘It’s all very well defending such girls, but it’s a very different matter when it involves one of your own.’
‘We’d face it together – as a family,’ retorted Peggy boldly, aware that Ron might not co-operate in any such thing without a good deal of persuasion and nagging. ‘We’re not the sort of parents to abandon our children when they need us most.’
‘Like April’s mother, you mean?’
Peggy stared at her. ‘You don’t think . . .? You can’t mean . . .? Surely not, Cordelia?’
Cordelia shrugged. ‘The situation with April is unclear, I grant you, but she’s taken up with this Shirley – could it be because they have rather more in common than we supposed?’
Peggy’s thoughts were in a whirl. April had revealed very little about her mysterious and absent fiancé, and was just as secretive about her relationship with her mother and the reason behind her coming here to live. The girl was definitely hiding something – could it be that Cordelia was right?
She struggled to dispel the doubts that clamoured. ‘We mustn’t let our imaginations run away with us, Cordelia,’ she said firmly. ‘April seems to be a very pleasant, well-brought-up girl who’s feeling a bit lost and needs a friend. We must trust that she will prove to be what she claims to be and let her choose her pals regardless of who they are.’
Cordelia sniffed and returned to peeling the potatoes. ‘The world’s gone mad,’ she muttered. ‘Everything was different when I was that age. One knew the rules, knew how to conduct oneself – and would never have dreamt of flouting society in that way.’
Peggy could see her point even though she didn’t fully agree with it. ‘Things have indeed changed,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘And, in my opinion, not for the better either. Yet surely such prejudice has no place here when a war is being fought against the subjugation of those born into different faiths and cultures – and who don’t fit into what society deems to be acceptable?’
‘As admirable as it is to want a more forgiving world, I still advise caution, Peggy.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind, Cordelia.’ Peggy reached for a saucepan, her thoughts still on Shirley and her baby, and the disgusting way Mabel had treated them. She probably couldn’t expect Cordelia to change her thinking, for she’d been born in a different time and a very different world, but witnessing Mabel’s assault earlier had made her realise that should the same fate befall any of her girls she would do her very best to offer love and support. She just hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t be called upon to prove it.
April stood on the back step by the open door. She’d heard every word of the conversation in the kitchen, and although she dreaded the thought, she knew it was time to tell the truth. It would be a relief in a way, for she’d never found lying easy, and the burden of her secret was weighing heavier each day.
She took a deep breath for courage, hoisted the strap of her gas-mask box firmly over her shoulder and went up the steps. Peggy and Cordelia turned to smile at her, but she could sense their unease, and their suspicion that she must have heard at least some of what they’d said. ‘Peggy, Cordelia,’ she said nervously. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
They both paled, and Cordelia sank into a nearby chair. ‘You heard,’ she stated.
April nodded. ‘And you were right, Cordelia. Shirley and I have a great deal in common, because my baby’s father abandoned me too.’
‘Oh, lawks,’ breathed Peggy, sinking into the kitchen chair beside Cordelia. ‘But why all the pretence, April? Couldn’t you trust me enough to tell me the truth?’
April dumped her gas-mask box over the back of the chair and sat down at the table. Her pulse was racing and she was finding it hard to breathe. ‘I’m so, so sorry I lied to you before, but you see there’s something else, and I don’t know how to tell you.’
Peggy’s gaze remained steady as she reached out and grasped April’s hand. ‘Trust me, April,’ she said softly. ‘Whatever it is, I promise not to cause a fuss.’
April gripped her fingers, praying that she’d understand and perhaps even forgive her for being so deceitful. ‘My baby’s father was an American,’ she began hesitantly, ‘and he came from the South.’ The tension was almost unbearable as the two women waited for her to continue. ‘Daniel Clement was a light-skinned Negro,’ she finished in a rush.
Cordelia went very pale and Peggy tightened her grip on April’s fingers. ‘Oh, my dear,’ she breathed. ‘No wonder you were so reluctant to confide in me.’
‘It’s not something to be proud of,’ April admitted on the verge of tears, ‘and of course I didn’t know how you’d react.’ She looked into Peggy’s eyes and saw understanding and kindness there, so continued. ‘I wanted to tell you, really I did, but I was terrified you’d throw me out, and I was desperate to stay.’
‘Oh, April,’ Peggy sighed. ‘I’d never have done that.’
‘Of course she wouldn’t,’ said Cordelia brusquely.
‘But I didn’t know you, Peggy, and although you seemed happy enough to give me a room in your home knowing I was pregnant, it was quite another thing to reveal that my baby’s father was a black GI.’
‘Those Americans have a good deal to answer for,’ said Cordelia with some asperity. ‘Unfortunately you aren’t the first silly girl to be lured in by their dubious charms – and I very much doubt you’ll be the last.’
April sensed her disapproval and it made her feel very uncomfortable. She regarded them both, realising they were finding this hard to take in. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, the tears blinding her, ‘and I’ll quite understand if you want me to leave. I’m sure they’ll have a spare be
d at the hostel.’
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ said Peggy firmly. ‘You’re part of the family now, and as such, I will not abandon you to some filthy, overcrowded hostel.’ She pushed back from the table and gathered April to her. ‘This is your home for as long as you want, April. All I ask is that you never lie to me again.’
April sank into her embrace and held her tight, overwhelmed by Peggy’s love and understanding. ‘I promise,’ she murmured.
Peggy stepped back and softly smoothed April’s hair back from her face before giving her a handkerchief. ‘Dry your eyes, dear, and once we’ve had a nice cup of tea, we can talk about what we do from now on.’
April cleaned her face, then glanced at Cordelia, who still looked rather shell-shocked by it all, and took a shuddering breath. ‘You’re so kind, Peggy, but won’t my staying here cause trouble?’
‘It’s bound to cause a flurry or two,’ said Peggy candidly, ‘but it won’t last – not if I have anything to do with it. I’ve seen enough today to make me realise that a stand has to be made against prejudice and ill-will, and I’m blowed if I’ll let it come into this house.’
‘What’s got you all fired up, Peggy girl?’ Ron came into the kitchen and plumped down in a chair as Harvey enthusiastically greeted everyone. He glanced from Peggy to April and then to Cordelia. ‘I see there’s trouble afoot,’ he muttered. ‘Come on, out with it.’
April shivered with apprehension, for Ron was made of sterner stuff than Peggy and she already suspected he didn’t approve of her. Was he about to throw her out?
‘Well, I’ll tell you what the trouble is, Ron,’ Peggy said flatly as she put the teapot on the table, sat down and told him about her run-in with Mabel.
April listened in stunned silence. The thought that Shirley had routinely been abused in such a way was appalling, but what was even more terrifying was the realisation that it could happen to her if the truth got out about Daniel’s brown baby.
Peggy seemed to read her thoughts, for she squeezed her shoulder and shot her a supportive smile before turning back to a stony-faced Ron. ‘The reason behind that nasty little story is that it also concerns our April,’ she said.
