by Ellie Dean
Jim shifted in his chair. ‘That’s kind of you, Elsa, but as the Legion is a charity, I’d still need to find a job that pays.’
‘Not necessarily,’ she replied briskly. ‘There are positions within the charity which pay a salary.’ She began to write on a slip of paper. ‘If you’re really serious about continuing your work with the prisoners of war, then this is the man you should get in touch with, and this is my Sydney address so you can keep me up to date.’
She handed him the slip of paper. ‘Write and tell him what you’ve been doing here and give my name as a reference – we’re old friends,’ she added with an enigmatic smile.
He felt the weight of indecision lift from him as he tucked the note safely in his top pocket and got to his feet. ‘I’ll certainly give it a go,’ he said, reaching for her hand. ‘Thanks for everything, Elsa. It’s been a pleasure knowing you. If you’re ever in England, you must come to visit. I think you and Peggy would get on well – you’re very alike.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, Jim,’ she replied, shaking his hand warmly. ‘And thank you for all the hard work you’ve done for us here. You’ve shown great compassion and understanding, and it has been a pleasure to work with you – but I shall miss our daily tiffin.’
He winked at her and settled his hat over his head. ‘So shall I, Elsa. Have a safe journey home.’
Elsa sat back down and gave a wistful sigh as he closed the door behind him. Jim Reilly was not only handsome and charming company, but he’d brought colour and a delightful frisson of pleasure into her rather dull life – and in that one silly moment when he’d kissed her on the dance floor, she’d dared to hope it would lead to something more intimate.
She smiled at her foolishness and finished the drink. Jim might slip now and again, but she knew he would never really stray, for it was clear that Peggy was the light and love of his life. ‘Lucky, lucky woman,’ she murmured as she picked up her bag and headed for the bar.
Jim was also smiling as he left Raffles, for he knew Elsa would have liked to move things on between them, and it would have been awkward if she hadn’t been worldly enough to realise it would have spoilt the friendship they’d forged over the months they’d worked together.
He liked her very much, for she reminded him of his Peggy, both in looks and character, and could be just as fierce when thwarted. If he hadn’t been married to Peggy, then he might very well have taken things further, for he’d enjoyed kissing her that time. However, life was full of lovely women and it could get hazardous when his flirting was taken seriously and he had to talk his way out of difficult and often embarrassing situations.
He left Raffles for the last time, his hopes high that there really would be a position for him with the Legion, for it was work he knew he’d be good at, and at the same time he would gain enormous satisfaction from doing something worthwhile.
He drove back to the billet to find the place in chaos with men doing their last-minute packing and dashing in and out for one final drink or shopping expedition.
Jim ran up the stairs, hoping he wasn’t too late to catch his old pal Jumbo before he left. Going into the room they shared, he saw Jumbo, resplendent in his kilt, filling yet another suitcase with linens and bolts of material.
‘Good grief, Jumbo, you must have bought up the entire market,’ he exclaimed.
‘Well, I’ll need all this and more to make a proper home for Myfanwy, and everything is so much cheaper here than at home,’ he replied, tying a label to the handle.
‘Typical penny-pinching Scotsman,’ teased Jim, digging him in the ribs. ‘Why not parcel it all up and post it back?’
Jumbo looked at him in wide-eyed horror. ‘D’ye ken how much that would cost, Jim?’
Jim laughed. ‘I have a fair idea, as I’ve posted enough stuff back home to fill a ship.’ He slapped the other man’s shoulder. ‘Come on, you’ve time for a couple of beers before you have to leave for the port. I’m buying,’ he added with a wink.
‘Och, Jim, you go too far with your teasing. But I’ll happily drink with ye one last time.’
Jim helped him load everything into the back of the army truck which would take it all to the docks. There was a bustle of pent-up excitement in the air as the Scottish contingent prepared to leave, and Jim warmly shook their hands and wished them a good journey as he probably would never see them again.
Jumbo refused to let his precious bagpipes out of his sight, so he carried them under his arm as they set off for the bar on the corner. They settled at a small table in the dark little bar that was cooled by several large fans hanging from the low ceiling. They drank beer with whisky chasers; talked about the good and bad times they’d shared over the past few years; toasted the comrades who hadn’t made it back, and then discussed Jumbo’s plans for a house-warming party once he and Myfanwy were settled.
‘It’s a bit far for me and Peggy to get to,’ said Jim, downing his fourth whisky. ‘But I promise to look into the price of train tickets.’
‘Och, now who’s counting their pennies, eh, Jim?’ teased Jumbo. ‘You’ll have saved a fair whack of your wages and there’s your demob money to come – so don’t pretend you cannae afford it.’
‘If my Peggy’s done half the alterations to the house that she threatened to do, then I’ll have very little money left,’ Jim said gloomily before downing the cold beer in three large gulps.
Jumbo grinned, finished his beer and then reached for his bagpipes. ‘How about one last tune before we say goodbye?’
‘Aye, why not?’ said Jim, wondering what on earth the Indian owners of the bar would say to having that racket in this confined space.
Jumbo blew air into the bag and the pipes whined and screeched for a bit and then he began to play a lovely, lilting Scottish tune that was unfamiliar to Jim.
The enormous Scotsman got to his feet and went outside as the owners and other customers covered their ears. He stood on the street corner, the sound less intrusive in the open air, but stirring enough to stop passers-by and still the other Scots who were now clambering into a fleet of army trucks.
The tune came to an end and Jumbo hitched the bagpipes under one arm as he flung his other round Jim’s shoulders and squeezed him to his side. ‘For a Sassenach, you’re all right, Jim. It’s been an honour and a privilege to know you. Keep your powder dry, my friend, and have a safe journey home.’
‘I’ll see you again, you old rogue,’ replied Jim gruffly, ‘even if it does cost me an arm and a leg to get to you.’ He lightly punched Jumbo’s muscled belly, feeling foolish to be so emotional about this parting. ‘You’d better get a move on. The trucks are starting to leave.’
Jumbo grinned and strode off, kilt swinging, to clamber into the back of the last truck, showing off a good bit of hairy and very sturdy legs. As the truck pulled away, he saluted Jim before striking up a lively reel on his bagpipes.
Jim saluted back and stood in the street until the truck was out of sight and the sound of the bagpipes no longer drifted back to him. Turning away finally, he climbed back into the car to do one last circuit of the island before he had to return it to the motor pool.
Standing on the deck of the Empress Aurelia at sunrise on the next day, he leaned on the railings to say a last goodbye to the part of the world that had been his home and his hell for too many years. And yet there had been good times too, and he knew he had much to be grateful for.
He was the fittest he’d ever been, strong and healthy, his battle-scars merely fading reminders of how lucky he was when so many had not been as fortunate. And he’d surprised himself at his ability to do a job he’d never in a million years have applied for. It certainly boded well for the future, and the letter he’d posted last night to Elsa’s friend in the Legion was the first step, for he knew now that he was capable of so much more than being a grease monkey for the rest of his life.
As the deep bass of the ship’s hooter blasted out and they sailed through the Straits of Malacca,
Jim said a final farewell to Jock and Philip and Amah – and all the men, women and children who would never return home.
He remained on deck in the blistering noonday heat until the coastline of Thailand was merely a blur on the distant horizon and the ship began to head into the Indian Ocean. He made his way to the bow, and as the troopship ploughed through that vast, glittering stretch of blue water his spirits soared.
‘I’m coming home, Peggy,’ he breathed. ‘At long last, I’m coming home.’
28
Cliffehaven
Peggy was in a complete tizzy that April morning, for she’d received Jim’s telegram telling her he was at long last boarding a ship for home, and he should be docking at Portsmouth in five weeks. However, beneath that happiness was a deep worry that simply wouldn’t go away, for she hadn’t heard from Ruby since before Christmas.
‘I just don’t know what to make of it,’ she said to Cordelia as they sat at the kitchen table. ‘Surely the snow must have melted by now, so why hasn’t she written?’
Cordelia took off her glasses and set aside her newspaper. ‘I don’t know either,’ she murmured with a frown. ‘And it’s very odd she hasn’t let us know if the baby arrived safely.’
‘That’s what’s really worrying me,’ said Peggy fretfully. ‘I have this awful feeling that something’s gone horribly wrong over there, and she’s afraid to tell us.’
‘There’s no point in speculating, Peggy dear, for it will drive us both mad.’ She gave a sigh. ‘I’m sure that if anything has gone wrong, she would have told us as soon as possible. She and Mike are probably having a honeymoon of sorts after he’s been away throughout the winter, and looking after a baby is exhausting as well as time-consuming. I expect she’s simply settling in at last and hasn’t had time to write.’
Peggy nodded, feeling marginally reassured. ‘You could very well be right, Cordy,’ she said. ‘And after all, it’s what we both wanted, isn’t it – for her to find her feet and settle down in Canada?’
‘It certainly is,’ said Cordelia. ‘So I suggest you stop worrying and imagining all sorts, and learn to be patient. We’ll hear from her soon, I’m sure.’
She must have seen that Peggy was still to be totally convinced, for she patted her hand and softened her tone. ‘Let’s just be thankful our Jim’s on his way home, and that we have Danuta’s wedding to look forward to, and concentrate on them today.’
‘Of course I must,’ said Peggy, ‘but the lack of news from Ruby has sort of taken the shine off everything.’
Cordelia clucked her tongue and looked up at the mantel clock. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be going to Sally’s for a last fitting?’
‘Lawks, I completely lost track of time,’ Peggy gasped, rising hurriedly from the chair to pull on her jacket and collect her handbag. ‘Daisy will be over at Anne’s all day, so you don’t have to worry about her, and Charlie’s gone out with Ron before his last rugby match of the season this afternoon. Danuta’s down at Tamarisk Bay, so there’s no need to think about doing much for lunch, as it will only be us two.’
‘Stop fussing and just go,’ said Cordelia affectionately.
Peggy kissed her quickly and dashed out of the front door, thankful that Sally and John lived only three streets away at the bottom of the hill.
The terraced houses were over a hundred years old, and had once been cramped, single-storey fishermen’s hovels. They sat at the eastern edge of the seafront facing the shingle beach where Frank and Brendon kept their trawlers, and the front doors opened directly onto the rough track that acted as a pavement.
The entire terrace had gone through many changes over the years as the fishermen left and young families had moved in and converted them into more habitable dwellings. Each one was now two-storeyed, with a bathroom tacked onto the back in the walled courtyard gardens.
Peggy always thought of them as dolls’ houses, and in her many visits to Sally that impression remained, for the rooms were small and low-ceilinged with very little space to store anything. It wasn’t really surprising that it had become impractical for a growing family, and Peggy knew that now Sally was expecting, she and John were trying to sell up so they could move somewhere with more room.
She waved to Ernie and Harry who were playing on the beach, and her rap on the brass knocker was quickly answered by Sally, who was looking extremely well in her first months of pregnancy.
‘Hello, Auntie Peggy,’ she said, giving her a hug before leading her into the front room. ‘You’ll have to excuse the mess, but I ain’t had time to tidy up this morning.’
Peggy smiled, for this radiant, happy girl had come a very long way from the slums of London where she’d been sole carer for her crippled brother Ernie, and her future had seemed so bleak. ‘I don’t mind,’ she said, looking round the rather cluttered space which John had converted into a sewing room.
Shelves on one wall held the carefully folded piles of fabric Sally had harvested and laundered from old ballgowns, cocktail and wedding dresses, evening capes, skirts and coats. The lace, fur and beaded trimmings she’d carefully snipped from them were neatly wound over squares of cardboard.
A rail took up another wall and held the dresses, suits, skirts and blouses she’d made which were waiting to be picked up. A tailor’s dummy stood in the corner, sheathed in a length of white sheeting, and was reflected in the long mirror at its side. And under the window were her cutting table, sewing machine and chair, with two small chemist cabinets beneath that held cottons, needles, pins and all the other small bits and pieces she needed to make her clothes look special.
Peggy eyed the tailor’s dummy with barely contained inquisitiveness. ‘Is that Danuta’s wedding dress?’ she asked eagerly.
‘No. I put that somewhere you can’t see it,’ replied Sally, shooting her a grin. ‘Honestly, Auntie Peggy, you are terrible.’
She looked out at her brother and son who were now throwing pebbles into the sea, and pulled the blind over the window before removing the sheet to reveal the deep sapphire dress and bolero that Peggy would be wearing to Danuta’s wedding next weekend.
‘It looks lovely,’ breathed Peggy, quickly stepping out of her skirt and taking off her blouse to reveal her patched petticoat and rather grey bra, which reminded her she really should go and buy some decent underwear before Jim came home.
Sally held the dress for her to step into, and once she’d fastened the long zipper at the back, Peggy looked at herself in the mirror. The square neckline was flattering, the short sleeves hid her rather untoned upper arms and the colour enhanced the dark of her hair and eyes and brought light to her tired face.
The dress had once been an evening skirt; now it skimmed over her small breasts and was elegantly draped over her narrow hips to reach to just below the knee in a tulip-shaped hem.
‘It looks wonderful, Sally,’ she said in delight. ‘I just wish I could put on a bit of weight and be five years younger.’
‘We’d all like to be younger, thinner, fatter, taller or smaller, Auntie Peggy,’ Sally giggled as she got down on her knees to pin the hem. ‘Us women are never satisfied, are we? Now, how high would you like this hem?’
‘Keep it mid-knee, dear, if you wouldn’t mind. My legs are too skinny to show off.’ She stood very still as Sally measured and pinned. ‘How’s this pregnancy going, Sally?’
‘The doctor’s happy I’m over the first three months. He thinks I should carry this one full term as long as I don’t do nothing daft.’
‘That is good news,’ Peggy murmured in relief. ‘I know how cut up you were last time.’
‘Things are very different now,’ she replied, getting to her feet again. ‘I’m at home with John, relaxed and happy and not living in fear of bombs dropping on me ’ead.’ She checked the level of the hem again with a long wooden ruler. ‘There, how’s that?’
‘Perfect,’ said Peggy. She pulled on the bolero and turned this way and that to regard the effect. ‘It’s all absolutely lovely.�
� She gave the girl a hug. ‘You are clever.’
Sally grinned impishly and helped Peggy out of her finery. ‘I’ve come a long way from that first day at Solly’s factory, ain’t I? And I’m ever so pleased, because it means John and I can afford a bigger place once we sell this.’
‘How’s that going?’ Peggy asked, buttoning her blouse.
‘We’ve accepted an offer,’ she said, ‘and are hoping to be moving in about six weeks’ time if the solicitors get a move on, and the buyers don’t change their minds. We’ve had our offer accepted on a house close to Betty and Brendon on the old Chumley estate.’
Sally gave a contented sigh. ‘Ever so lovely it is, with four big bedrooms, three receptions, kitchen, bathroom and a big garden for the kids. I never thought in a million years I’d ’ave a place like that, and won’t really believe it until we move in.’
‘Gosh, I didn’t realise any of them were for sale. They were only built last year.’
‘Yeah, we was lucky, cos Brendon tipped us the wink that their neighbours wanted to move back to Derby to be nearer their daughter and grandchildren, so we jumped straight in the minute we knew we ’ad a buyer.’
‘It’ll be a bit of a journey to school each day for Ernie and Harry,’ said Peggy.
‘They can come in on their bikes if the weather’s good, and if not, John will drive ’em in on his way to work as the school’s only opposite the fire station.’ She smiled happily. ‘They’re ever so excited to ’ave a room each at last, and I can’t wait to get my sewing room all kitted out. So as long as nothing goes wrong, we’re all sorted really.’
‘Charlie and I will come and help John and Ernie with the packing,’ said Peggy. ‘I don’t want you lifting heavy things and getting overtired.’ She dug in her handbag and pulled out her purse. ‘How much do I owe you, Sally?’
