by Ellie Dean
This is necessarily a short letter, for I have to pack and prepare for the sea crossing – which I’m dreading – but which probably won’t be as awful as some of the rough flights I’ve experienced during my time here. Sea-sickness won’t be half as bad as what it feels like to be bounced about in a small plane in the middle of a tropical storm with the thunder crashing and the lightning hammering against the fuselage until you can barely think for the terror of it all .
I love you, Peg, and I’m so very glad Anne, Charlie and the girls are back home with you to keep you company after what must have been long, lonely years without us all. I know you’ve had Cordelia and Dad and your chicks for company – but the comfort of being surrounded by your family cannot be beaten. Give my love to everyone, and I’ll write again from Singapore .
Loving you always and for ever ,
Jimxxx
Peggy handed the letter to Anne. ‘Sarah was right to guess your father was being sent to Singapore,’ she said. ‘I’d better have a word with the girl this evening,’ she added fretfully. ‘God knows what she and Jane are heading into.’
8
The next few days went by in a flash, and so much had happened, Peggy was finding it hard to keep up with it all. Frank had towed her Ford down to Jack’s garage, where Rita and Peter, fresh from their weekend honeymoon, set to work to replace the chewed wiring and hoses and give the engine a thorough service. The Ford had been old and temperamental before she’d stored it for the duration of the war, and now the leather upholstery had dried and cracked, and there were signs of a mouse nest in the corner of the back seat. The large headlamps were fogged and cobwebbed by damp; the chrome trim was going rusty; the windscreen wipers shrivelled to nothing, and it needed four new tyres as well.
As the cost of all the work began to spiral, Peggy hoped she’d actually be able to afford to run it, for petrol was still rationed and expensive, and the insurance premiums were high. But she consoled herself with the thought it would mean she could visit Anne, and not have to walk home from the town in all weathers lugging her shopping.
She’d taken a day off today to make all the arrangements, and now she was now putting the finishing touches to the large top-floor bedroom where her younger sister, Doreen, and her baby, Archie, would sleep. They were due to arrive tomorrow evening in good time for the wedding on Saturday. Evelyn was now almost eleven and her sister Joyce was eight, so they were too old to be sharing with their mother. Peggy had cleared out the second basement bedroom for them and brought a cot up for little Archie, who was barely over a year old. It had meant a lot of cleaning, sorting and chucking out, but it was worth it, for she knew Doreen would love being up here with the view of the sea, and the girls would be quite safe downstairs next to Charlie.
She tweaked the freshly washed and ironed curtains so they hung straight and stared out of the window, her thoughts still occupied with all that had occurred these last few days.
Doris had also retrieved her car from Chalky’s, but it was in slightly better condition and hadn’t needed as much work doing to it, so Charlie had been in his element giving it a service during the evenings. The news that Doris was buying the bungalow from Rosie was a bit of a surprise, but Rosie seemed quite happy to be shot of it as she was now seriously planning to sell the Anchor, and the money would come in handy for when she bought a house.
Peggy thought Doris and John were being very adventurous to convert the two bungalows into one, but she didn’t envy them the expense and upheaval it would cause and it worried her a bit. Doris had already lost everything when her house in Havelock Road was bombed and she discovered her estranged husband had used it as collateral to pay off his debts to the bank, and therefore she wasn’t entitled to any compensation. Now she was borrowing money to buy the bungalow and set up home with John.
Peggy knew John was a trustworthy, honest man who would never cheat Doris, but she did hope he’d have the foresight to ensure she would not be left homeless if anything – God forbid – happened to him. His son had proved to be a complete rotter, and Peggy wouldn’t trust him to tell her the time of day – let alone honour his father’s commitment to Doris.
Wiping a speck of dust from the windowsill, she turned her thoughts to lighter things. With Rachel’s help and a good deal of coaxing, they’d persuaded Solly to allow Anne’s children to attend the factory’s crèche at a very reasonable rate. This had certainly relieved Anne of a good deal of worry, for the autumn term would begin next week.
Jack had managed to find a lovely little Ford with very low mileage for Martin which helped enormously now he and Anne were back and forth to their cottage on the other side of the Cliffe estate. Much to Peggy’s surprise and relief, work was going well on refurbishing the bathroom and kitchen, for it seemed that having Charlie and Frank to chivvy him along meant Ron was actually getting things done and not merely talking about doing it.
She turned from the window and headed downstairs to check on the evening meal that Cordelia had prepared and put in the oven earlier. She didn’t really have time to worry over everyone, although John’s back was still giving him trouble, and his wedding to Doris was in two days’ time, and Sarah seemed determined to keep her arrangements about leaving for Singapore – which was now less than two weeks away. It was Anne and Martin’s last night at Beach View, and thanks to Frank supplying the fish, there was a lovely pie simmering in a white sauce beneath a thick potato crust in the oven, and she’d managed to put together a trifle, which would be a real treat.
She checked on the fish pie and moved the large baking dish into the cooler oven so it didn’t dry out, and then placed the saucepans of sliced beans and garden peas on the hotplates to simmer. Someone had already laid the table, she noted, so there wasn’t much to do until it was time to dish up. She glanced up at the clock which was surrounded by all the photographs the girls had sent her, and smiled with great pride and affection.
There was Suzy looking radiant in her pregnancy with her little boy Teddy; Mary with her small son; Andy and Ivy on their wedding day; Ruby and Mike on theirs; and another of Rita and Peter taken on the church steps with Bertie’s Box Brownie. Doreen had sent a snapshot of herself with her girls and baby Archie looking very happy on a rug in the gardens of the private school where she worked as a secretary to the headmaster.
There were photographs of Fran and Robert; Cissy in her taxi company livery; Anne with her two girls; and one of Jim, looking rakishly handsome in his tropical uniform and slouch hat; and last but never least was one of Sally with Ernie and her little Harry.
Another array of photographs graced the mantel in the dining room – all lovely reminders of the girls who’d come to stay for a while during the war. They’d been happy days despite the terrors of the air raids and the dubious protection of the Anderson shelter. And once some of them had moved away from Cliffehaven, they’d written to thank her and tell her how they were getting on, often sending little handmade gifts for her and Daisy to remember them by.
Peggy was still smiling as she went down the cellar steps to join Cordelia, Daisy and Sarah in the garden. She’d heard from quite a few of her chicks recently and it was a delight to know they were making new lives for themselves, but it was a worry that she’d had nothing from Ruby, but then she suspected she was taken up with finding her feet in Canada and had little time to spare. The fact that she hadn’t heard from Jim since his last letter didn’t worry her, for he was probably already at sea, making his way towards Singapore.
‘Tea will be ready in about half an hour,’ she said, sitting in a deckchair to watch Daisy playing in the sandpit with her bucket and spade. ‘I hope everyone gets back in time, or that fish pie will ruin.’
‘I’ve never known Charlie to be late for a meal yet,’ said Cordelia wryly. ‘My goodness, that boy can eat.’
‘There’s a lot of him to feed,’ giggled Peggy. ‘I’m sure he’s grown at least another inch since he came home, and it’s going to be the devil’s ow
n job to find a school blazer to fit him.’
‘I get the impression that he’s not too happy to be going back to school,’ said Cordelia.
‘He’s had too much freedom and fun all summer, that’s the problem,’ Peggy said. ‘But he’s only got another year to go to get his school certificate, and then he can look forward to the engineering course at the tech. He’ll soon make friends and settle in, I’m sure.’
Once everyone was home, the atmosphere in Peggy’s kitchen was light and happy as they tucked into the delicious fish pie and Peggy questioned Danuta closely about her afternoon tea with Stanislaw.
‘We had very nice tea, thank you,’ said Danuta with a twinkle in her eyes. ‘And tomorrow we will have morning coffee at Cliffe so I can meet some of his Polish friends.’
‘I expect he’s very relieved you’ve decided not to go to Warsaw,’ said Peggy over the noise of Rose playing up and Emily grizzling.
‘Of course,’ she replied, the corners of her mouth twitching with a suppressed smile. ‘Not that it is really any of his concern.’ She finished her fish pie and pushed back from the table. ‘I have some calls to catch up on as I was off for the afternoon. So if you would all excuse me?’ She put on her cap, picked up her medical bag and left the house.
Peggy rolled her eyes. ‘I give up trying to find out what’s going on there,’ she said to no one in particular. ‘And it’s most frustrating.’
Anne and Sarah laughed. ‘You’ll find out soon enough if she wants to tell you,’ said Sarah. ‘Honestly, Aunt Peggy, you’re the most incorrigible romantic.’
‘Mum sees romance everywhere,’ said Anne fondly before turning sharply to her girls. ‘Rose, sit still and stop banging that fork on the plate,’ she ordered crossly. ‘And, Emily, that’s enough grizzling. If you both go on like this there will be no trifle for pudding.’
This blackmail worked for a while, but as soon as they’d eaten the trifle it became clear that both children would put up a fight when it came to bedtime.
‘I don’t know about you, Mum,’ said Anne wearily. ‘But I’m in no mood for a tussle tonight. How about we take a drive out to the cottage so you can see all the wonderful work that’s been done?’
Peggy grinned and quickly cleared the table. ‘I think that’s a splendid idea, but how will we all fit into that small car?’
‘I’m off to the rugby club,’ said Charlie, scooping the last of the trifle from the bowl and licking his spoon. ‘The fixture list for the coming season is due out, and I want to see who we’re up against – and then I’ve got to finish Aunt Doris’s car. She’ll need it for Saturday.’
‘I’ve got letters to write,’ said Sarah. ‘But I’d love to visit sometime in the next two weeks.’
‘Well, I’ve got nothing to do,’ said Cordelia huffily. ‘Can I come?’
‘Of course you can,’ said Anne with an affectionate smile. ‘We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind, Grandma Cordy.’
Martin pushed back from the table. ‘Why don’t you drive them up there while I go to have a chat with Roger and the others? I shall see enough of the cottage after tomorrow, and it won’t be such a squash in the car.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ murmured Anne.
He smiled down at her and softly kissed the top of her head. ‘You enjoy showing the place off, Anne. I’ll see you later.’
Once the dishes had been dealt with and the kitchen tidied, jackets and cardigans were fetched, outdoor shoes slipped on and they trooped outside to the Ford which was parked by the front steps. The sun was low in the sky, but it would probably still be light on their return as the summer days were long.
Peggy helped Cordelia into the front with Daisy on her lap, and then climbed into the back with Rose and Emily who promptly settled into her side and plugged in her thumb.
‘I can’t remember the last time I went out for a drive in the evening,’ Peggy said. ‘It feels as if I’m on holiday.’ She giggled. ‘Silly of me, I know, but it will be lovely to have my own car again and be free to come and go as I please. I have missed it.’
Anne merely smiled as she started the car and set off.
Peggy cuddled Emily and Rose as they sped up the hill and turned onto the road that would take them past Solly and Rachel’s lovely house, the Memorial Hospital and out into the countryside beyond the Cliffe estate and towards the airfield. The smell of newly mown hay and cow parsley drifted in through the window on the warm, still air, and it was a pleasure to look out at the scenery. However, the weight of the small girls leaning against her was a sad reminder that she would miss not having her grandchildren to cuddle and spoil every day, but at least she would get to see them often once her car was roadworthy.
Rose Cottage was in a hamlet that nestled in the valley between Cliffe estate and the aerodrome. Warren Cross consisted of four cottages, an ancient church, an equally ancient pub, and a farm which belonged to Cliffe estate. The fields spread as far as the eye could see, and as they drove along, they watched a farmer and his labourers hard at work bringing in the wheat harvest.
‘I suppose Bob’s doing the same down in Somerset,’ said Peggy wistfully.
‘He’s bound to be. And once that’s done, he’ll be ploughing and planting for the winter crops.’ Anne slowed the car and turned down a narrow, rutted lane overarched by trees which threw dappled shadows over it. ‘Now Vi’s got extra hands on the farm, Bob will find things much easier, so don’t worry, Mum. He’ll be home for a visit very soon.’
Peggy nodded. ‘Yes, he promised to come home for Christmas in his last letter. It will be wonderful to have you all there again after so many Christmases of being apart.’ She gave a tremulous sigh. ‘If only your father could be with us it would be perfect.’
‘He’ll be with us in spirit, you can be sure of that,’ Anne replied, bringing the car to a halt in front of a five-bar gate. She leapt out and unlatched the gate, pushing it as far as it would go into the hedge, and then climbed back into the car.
‘You’ll be amazed at what Grandad and the others have achieved,’ she said, her voice light with suppressed excitement. ‘And now we’ve got all our best furniture out of storage it really feels like home again.’
The little car ran smoothly over the newly gravelled driveway, and as it came round a gentle bend, they had their first sighting of the early Victorian two-storey house, which to Peggy’s mind was really too big to be called a cottage since it had been added onto over the years and was fairly substantial.
Set in a garden ablaze with cottage garden flowers, the honey-coloured stone seemed to have soaked up the warmth of the day’s sun. Harlequin roses of red and yellow tumbled over the porch, and the fresh white paint on the doors and window frames gleamed. It was an attractive, neat house, with four large windows and a central door beneath a shingled roof with a pie-crust trim. Today, it looked utterly enchanting.
‘Oh, Anne,’ Peggy breathed in delight. ‘It is as pretty as a picture.’
‘You wait until you’ve seen inside,’ she giggled. ‘You’ll hardly recognise it.’
Peggy could only vaguely remember two rather shabby reception rooms, an old-fashioned kitchen and a poky bathroom downstairs, with four big bedrooms above them. When Anne and Martin had first moved in it had been empty for some time, so they’d done what they could to refresh it before Anne had had to evacuate to Somerset with Rose, and Martin moved into officers’ quarters at the aerodrome.
Rose scrambled out as Peggy helped Cordelia and, with Emily on her hip, took Daisy’s hand and followed Anne and Rose through the porch and into the narrow hallway which smelled of new paint.
Anne was grinning like a Cheshire cat as she took charge of the children. ‘Have a wander round and tell me what you think while I put the kettle on for a cuppa, and give the girls some squash.’
Peggy could see that the hall floor had been sanded and waxed, and there was fresh sprigged paper on the walls above the newly painted white panelling. It looked much lighter than sh
e remembered, and as she and Cordelia went through into the sitting room, she could see a similar transformation. The floors were again sanded and waxed, and the walls had been painted a pale yellow that made it feel as if the sun was always shining. There was a lovely original fireplace surrounded by beautiful tiles, and Anne had cleverly picked out the same colours in the curtains, cushions and floor rugs. It all looked lovely and cosy and she could just imagine the little family sitting around that hearth in the winter.
The room on the other side of the hall was painted white, and at its centre was a large dining table with bulbous legs and a shine you could see your face in. The eight chairs were upholstered in a rich, deep red which matched the velvet curtains that hung right to the floor and were tied back with tasselled ropes of thick gold cord. There was another original fireplace in here too, but for now Anne had filled it with an arrangement of flowers in a pretty vase.
Peggy admired it all, but thought that so much dark wood and deep red made the room rather sombre, but she supposed they would only use it in the evenings when it would actually look very luxurious and intimate – a far cry from her rather battered dining room which had become a dumping ground for unwanted furniture.
‘This reminds me of my old house,’ said Cordelia. ‘I must dig out my silver candlesticks. They’d look lovely on that table with my rose bowl.’
‘You’ve given Anne enough,’ said Peggy softly. ‘That diamond and emerald brooch was worth a fortune.’
‘That was her wedding present,’ she replied firmly. ‘The candlesticks and rose bowl will be a house-warming gift to both of them, and I’ll discuss it no further.’
Peggy realised no amount of argument would budge her, so followed her out of the room and down towards the kitchen where they both came to an abrupt halt. The room had been transformed beyond recognition, for it was now twice the size and there was no sign of the dilapidated cupboards, worn wooden draining board or faded lino.
