With Hope and Love

by Ellie Dean

  Dolly shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant about it all, but the sadness in her eyes told another story. ‘I felt really guilty about leaving Pauline behind, so was going to surprise her with the boat and plane tickets so she could join us for a few weeks. Now I’ve been presented with the aftermath of her truly appalling behaviour, I’ve decided she doesn’t deserve to be rewarded so will cancel the tickets. It’s a great shame, Peggy, but she’s brought it upon herself.’

  ‘You’d better keep that to yourself,’ warned Peggy. ‘Or there will be a massive bust-up again.’

  Dolly nodded, then looked at her slender wristwatch and got to her feet. ‘I have to see the estate agent and then rescue Carol from what I suspect will be an unpleasant scene between Frank and Pauline.’ She took Peggy’s hands and kissed her cheek. ‘We’ll be leaving this evening, so would it be all right if we call in later to say our goodbyes to everyone?’

  Peggy hugged her fiercely. ‘Of course it would. You and Carol are welcome any time.’

  Peggy realised that she would now have very little time to go to Briar Cottage, so she telephoned Kitty to apologise for changing her plans and to tell her that Martin was on his way home. The poor girl had been quite tearful with relief that, at last, someone was coming who might help raise Roger’s spirits and see him through this awful time.

  Peggy was feeling quite emotional too as she disconnected the call, and went to see where Daisy had got to. She found her with Cordelia, chattering away nineteen to the dozen. The child had clearly dressed herself this morning, for she wore her favourite dungarees over a back-to-front jumper, with pink socks and her shoes on the wrong feet.

  ‘Come on, Daisy, let me sort you out so you can have breakfast. You must be very hungry by now, and there’s a lovely brown egg waiting for you downstairs.’ Peggy managed to change the shoes over as her daughter fidgeted impatiently.

  ‘Wanna ride with Gan-gan,’ she protested when Peggy tried to lead her out of the room.

  Peggy glanced at Cordelia who nodded. ‘I’ll see to her, Peggy, dear. It sounds as if you’ve had quite enough to contend with this morning as it is.’

  ‘That would be a help,’ said Peggy. She explained what had been happening with Pauline and Dolly.

  Cordelia tutted and shook her head. ‘That woman’s got bats in the belfry, if you ask me,’ she muttered. ‘I’m not surprised poor Frank’s had enough.’

  Peggy left Cordelia to it and went upstairs to Brendon and Betty’s room. Hearing the murmur of voices, she tapped on the door and went in. They were sitting in the chairs on either side of the gas fire, looking thoroughly miserable, so Peggy told them the news about the flat – but didn’t want to depress them further by telling them about Frank’s threat to leave Pauline and move in with them.

  ‘That’s very clever of Grandma Dolly,’ said Brendon, looking far more cheerful. ‘Though how she’s managed it, I can’t imagine. Those flats are like gold dust.’

  ‘Dolly has always had a way of getting what she wants,’ said Peggy, giving them a fond smile. ‘She and Carol are coming over later to say their goodbyes before they leave for America.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Now, I must get on and prepare the room downstairs for Martin.’

  The morning seemed to disappear as she swept and polished and made up the big double bed. Hauling Daisy’s cot out of the cupboard under the stairs, she carried it up and put it together, ready for when Anne and the girls arrived at the end of the week. She was being a bit previous, she knew, but it was better to get as much done as possible now so there’d be less of a disturbance later.

  Peggy stood in the doorway, pleased with her work, and then went back downstairs to find Cordelia and Daisy having a very late breakfast with Danuta.

  ‘Where are Jane and Sarah?’ she asked, putting her cleaning things back under the sink and washing her hands. ‘Surely they aren’t still asleep?’

  ‘They left about half an hour ago to meet Jeremy at his hotel. Sarah said not to bother about their supper as they’d be back very late,’ said Cordelia. She eyed Peggy over her half-moon glasses. ‘Sit down and take a breath, dear. The tea’s still hot, although it’s very weak.’

  Peggy sat down, took a sip and grimaced. ‘These tea leaves have been used so many times we might just as well be drinking hot water.’ She added a few grains of sugar, but they didn’t make much difference, so she lit a fag and tried to relax. It had been quite a morning, and the row with Pauline still resonated, but at least the act of cleaning and bed-making had been an outlet for her pent-up fury, and she felt a little calmer.

  Dolly and Carol arrived shortly after two, laden with all sorts of goodies they’d brought from the West Country. There were pots of lovely home-made jam, cream and scones, biscuits, a packet of tea, another of sugar and two jars of potted fish paste as well as half a Madeira cake. Carol had emptied out her larder, it seemed, and Peggy was very grateful for the gifts, for her own larder was sadly lacking in everything.

  Dolly looked her usual elegant self in a silk two-piece, high heels and discreet jewellery. Carol, who Peggy hadn’t seen for years, was youthfully pretty with her wavy blonde hair and clear complexion, the light flowery dress enhancing her trim figure. They were a breath of fresh air to Peggy, and as Ron and Rosie turned up to wish them bon voyage, the afternoon tea turned into quite a party.

  Dolly explained about the flat as she handed the key over to Brendon and took charge of baby Joseph. ‘The lease begins in three days and is just for a month, which the agent promised me would neatly coincide with the date your house will be ready to move into.’

  ‘How did you leave things at home?’ he asked fretfully.

  Dolly held Joseph in her arms and lovingly stroked his soft cheek. ‘Carol and I managed to calm your mother down when she stormed in all set to rant at your poor father. We stayed long enough to ensure they could conduct a civilised conversation without it turning into a full-blown row, and left them to it.’

  She looked up from the baby and regarded Brendon with great affection. ‘I’m sorry, dear boy, but that’s all we could do in the circumstances. It’s up to your parents now to decide what happens next.’ She reached for his hand. ‘You just concentrate on your own little family. Things will work themselves out eventually. They always do.’

  A short while later, Dolly reluctantly handed the baby back to Betty. ‘We have a long drive ahead of us, so we must leave,’ she said sadly. She wrapped her arms about Brendon and kissed him before turning to Betty. ‘I’m so delighted you married our boy, and your baby is simply beautiful. Take care of yourself, dear, and should you ever decide to come for a visit, you’ll be very welcome.’

  Kissing Cordelia’s soft cheek, she then hugged Rosie before being swept into Ron’s arms. ‘Good heavens,’ she managed as he lifted her off her feet in a bear hug. ‘That’s one heck of a hug, Ron.’ She giggled as he carefully released her. ‘Goodbye, you old rogue. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

  ‘Ach, to be sure, Dolly, that gives me a wide scope for mischief, so it does,’ he replied with a wink.

  Peggy hugged her, breathing in the familiar flowery scent. ‘I wish you all the luck in the world, Dolly,’ she murmured. ‘Try not to forget us, and write sometimes.’

  Dolly’s eyes were suspiciously bright as she eased from the embrace. ‘I’ll never forget any of you,’ she said gruffly. ‘Now, we really must go before I make a complete fool of myself and ruin my make-up.’

  She gathered up her things as Carol was hugged and kissed by everyone, and then dug in her handbag. ‘I almost forgot,’ she said, handing an envelope to Peggy. ‘This is for Danuta. Tell her I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to see her again.’ With that, she quickly made her way to the front door.

  Everyone gathered on the steps and tearfully watched them climb into the smart black Austin parked at the kerb. And then, with a wave and a blown kiss, Dolly drove away into the glow of the late afternoon sun.

  Martin ached all over from sitting
down for so long, and he eased his back and neck to unlock the stiffness before helping Sally down from the train and swinging young Harry out and onto the platform.

  John Hicks was there to meet them, and as the couple celebrated a joyous and loving reunion, Martin strode down to the luggage compartment and helped the guard lift down the numerous cases, boxes and bags and stack them onto a trolley. With just a nod in response to Stan’s cheerful greeting, he dumped his kitbag and suitcase in the left-luggage, shook hands with John, said goodbye to Sally and the boys and hurried out of the station.

  Instead of going down the hill and making his way to Beach View, he began the long, steep climb towards Cliffe aerodrome in search of Roger. It felt good to be on the move again – wonderful to smell the salt in the air and experience the familiar swish of the long grass against his trouser legs.

  He breached the brow of the hill and paused to catch his breath and take in the view, revelling in the sight of the familiar sprawl of Cliffehaven below him: the curve of the horseshoe bay, the white of the cliffs and the way the low sun gilded the tips of the seabirds’ wings. This was home, and his spirits rose as he set off again, his sights now set on the airfield he knew was in the far valley.

  As he got nearer he could see that the runway was pitted and weed-infested, the grass on the side in need of cutting, although it looked rather lovely with the colourful wild flowers swaying in the light breeze. The control tower was in desperate need of a coat of paint, and the Nissen huts were showing rust patches and signs of decline.

  Martin paused and looked out over the scene of his wartime exploits, remembering those who’d shared the sleeping quarters, sat in deckchairs waiting for the order to scramble, and caused havoc in the mess on their return. They’d partied hard to drown their sorrows when the list of missing and dead became ever longer, and to pluck up enough courage to do it all again the next day – and the next – until the weeks blurred into months, and then years. They’d all been so young and naïve to believe they were leading charmed lives where others had not been so lucky. But Martin had to admit that despite everything, those years had been the best of his life.

  He slowly walked through the gap someone had forced in the wire fencing and wandered over to the ops room hut. There was nothing left of the large desk where the girls had moved toy planes about to signify enemy and Allied positions, but he thought he could hear their voices, and still detect a hint of their scent in the air.

  Martin moved on past the accommodation huts and mess hall, the memories flooding back with every step. He finally came to the hut that had once housed ancient couches and chairs where the flight crews had restlessly awaited their orders when the weather had been too cold to be outside. The furniture was still there, but covered in dust and cobwebs, the stuffing bursting out at the ripped seams; and he suspected the field mice had made use of it for nests. Then he spotted a couple of deckchairs leaning against the wooden wall. They seemed to be in reasonable condition, so he dusted one down with his handkerchief and carried it outside to test it thoroughly before he sat down.

  He could see the whole airfield from here, and if he closed his eyes he could hear the planes landing and taking off – see the enemy air raids which sent everyone scurrying for shelter – recall the death-defying heroics of men like Freddy who’d managed to steer his shot-up kite away from the huts and come screeching down on one wheel – and the bravery of the fire crews who raced alongside to put the fire out and drag the pilot and crew to safety.

  Martin opened his eyes, not wanting to see those images any more, or hear those long-remembered sounds of a busy RAF base. He lit a cigarette and gazed over the abandoned field which now seemed so much larger than he’d remembered, and then a movement in the distance caught his eye.

  He stilled and watched as the familiar, lonely figure emerged from the deepening shadows of the trees and began to wander unsteadily down the runway, clearly over-refreshed and lost in his own thoughts.

  Martin felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders at the sight of his friend, yet he didn’t call to him, but went to fetch the second deckchair. He brushed it down before setting it up beside his, then sat and waited for Roger to notice that he wasn’t alone.

  Roger eventually caught sight of him and, after a momentary hesitation, squared his shoulders and strode towards him. Eyeing the deckchair, he gingerly lowered himself into it, and took a sip from his hip flask. ‘I wondered when you’d turn up,’ he said, handing the flask to Martin. ‘Nice view from here, isn’t it?’

  Martin nodded, at ease for the first time since he’d set foot back in England. ‘The best in the world, old chum.’

  24

  Ron was tramping the hills with the dogs racing ahead of him, his cap pulled low over his brows, his little great-grandson nestled snugly in a blanket against his chest in a sturdy hessian bag he’d adapted for the purpose. He was at peace with the world and himself as he breathed in the soft, warm air of this summer day, for this was how he’d introduced his sons and grandchildren to the wide open spaces that surrounded Cliffehaven. And now, with this new generation, and the imminent arrival of Anne with Charlie and her two little girls, the old rituals could be carried out once more.

  Ron peered down at Joseph’s downy head and smiled. The boy would have the thick black hair and blue eyes of the Reilly family, and as he grew he’d learn their traditions of fishing, foraging and poaching – the last of which had to be done without his mother’s knowledge, of course. Women didn’t seem to approve of such things, but they rarely turned down the chance of a juicy salmon or a nice plump pheasant.

  Harvey came bounding over to jump up and sniff at Joseph to make sure he was all right, before lolloping off again to join his pup, Monty, who was digging about in great excitement beneath a clump of gorse.

  Ron carried on walking and when he reached the ruined farmhouse, he sank onto the grass and eased the straps from his shoulders. Cradling the sleeping baby, he gazed at him in awe. Joseph was a wonder he couldn’t get enough of – he’d never imagined he’d be blessed by such a treasure that reminded him so very much of his namesake. Ron puffed on his pipe, letting his thoughts just drift for a while until he realised the morning was fast disappearing. Joseph was still asleep, so he bundled him back into the sack, made sure his blanket was wrapped tightly around him and then shrugged on his coat. Whistling up the dogs, he headed for Tamarisk Bay to check on Frank.

  He reached the steep, rutted driveway that led down to the three wooden cottages overlooking Tamarisk Bay. Frank had spent time and effort to keep his weather-proofed and sturdy, but the other two looked rather care-worn, for they’d been left to rot over the war years. The original inhabitants had decamped back in 1939 and not returned, so Frank had bought them for a song, cleaned them up to make them habitable again, then rented them out to desperate families who didn’t mind the fact he still had work to do on them.

  Ron grinned at the two barefoot children who were watching him wide-eyed from a doorway. Letting the dogs race ahead, he trudged down the slope past Frank’s utility truck and across the shingle to the small fishing boat which had been hauled above the waterline.

  Frank seemed to be lost in his thoughts as he sat in the wheelhouse staring out over the sea, his broad shoulders drooping as he cradled a tin cup in his large hands.

  ‘Everything all right with you, wee boy?’ asked Ron, clambering on board.

  Frank was startled out of his reverie and almost dropped the cup. ‘Sorry, Da,’ he muttered. ‘I was half asleep and didn’t hear you coming.’

  ‘If you were out all night you should be in bed catching up on your sleep,’ replied Ron, helping himself to a mug of tea and lacing it with whisky. He jerked his head towards the cottage. ‘How are things?’

  Frank heaved a sigh. ‘Quiet for now. She’s gone back to work.’ He regarded his father from beneath his thick brows. ‘She’s not well, Da, and it worries me.’

  ‘Aye, it would.’ Ron had
always suspected that Pauline had a screw loose, for no sane woman would carry on as she did, and this latest bout of illness was no doubt her way of seeking attention. ‘What’s the matter with her this time?’ he asked neutrally.

  ‘She’s been suffering from sick headaches which have affected her eyesight, giving her blurred vision. I told her to go to the doctor’s, but she refuses to listen, and blames her bad heads on the stress everyone has caused her lately.’

  Frank heard his father’s soft grunt and met his cynical gaze. ‘I know what you’re thinking, Da, and I agree that she has only herself to blame, but I really do believe she isn’t putting it on this time.’

  ‘If it’s as bad as she says, then she’ll do something about it,’ said Ron, adjusting the straps of the hessian bag to a more comfortable position on his shoulders. ‘Pauline has been running back and forth to that doctor for years. I don’t see why she should suddenly change a habit of a lifetime.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right.’ Frank brightened and ran a gentle hand over Joseph’s head. ‘I’m going over to see Brendon and Betty later. They actually asked me to move in with them, you know.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Ron flatly.

  ‘I couldn’t leave while Pauline’s feeling so ill. Besides, they’re newly-weds and don’t want me playing gooseberry.’

  Ron sipped the stewed tea and came to the conclusion that Pauline’s illness was very timely – but then that was entirely predictable. She certainly knew how to keep Frank under her thumb, and it made him dislike her even more. But Frank was a middle-aged man, and his marriage was his own business. It was just a pity he didn’t have the gumption to see his wife for what she really was, and leave her to stew.

  He decided to change the subject. ‘Have you managed to find enough crew to man the boats?’ he asked.