Homecoming

by Ellie Dean

  The minute he returned from walking the dogs on Tuesday morning, Ron found himself being chivvied back outside to walk with Rosie to Havelock Road. She’d been to the estate agency and collected the keys to the property she’d thought she’d never have the chance to buy.

  ‘To be sure, I can’t see the need for all this rush,’ he grumbled, having to keep pace with her. ‘And why are we coming here? I thought you were after that house up by the Memorial?’

  ‘I realised it’s far too big, and has been empty too long,’ she replied. ‘A developer’s put in an offer for it anyway and will probably tear it down to build a couple of dozen houses on the site. This one’s far more practical, and they’ve dropped the price for a quick sale.’

  She came to an abrupt halt and looked up at the detached house on the corner of Havelock Road and the High Street, which had escaped the devastation of the V-2 that had flattened Doris’s house and the three at the other end of the cul-de-sac.

  The early Victorian house was set back from the pavement and faced Havelock Gardens which were only just returning to their full beauty after being used as a communal vegetable plot during the war. The back of the house overlooked the end of the promenade and the sea.

  ‘How come this place is for sale?’ Ron asked, frowning up at the roof which needed fixing and the windows which looked as if they were about to fall out. A wisteria had gone berserk all over the front of it and was entangled in rampant ivy which was making its way under the roof tiles and dragging the guttering down. The rotting garage door was leaning drunkenly on one hinge, and the driveway shingle had been all but washed away by the years of heavy rain and neglect.

  ‘The owners left before the war and decided they wanted to stay in Devon,’ Rosie replied, leading the way up the short drive to the front door. ‘The asking price is very fair, but I’m sure I can beat them down, for they’re keen to be rid of it and it does need a bit of work.’

  ‘To be sure, it’s more than a bit of work.’ Ron followed her gloomily into the house which was a mirror image of the one Doris had owned, but smelled damp and musty from being empty for so long. There was a cloakroom, dining room and staircase leading off from the hall, the kitchen and scullery were at the back and the sitting room with its large picture window looked down on an overgrown and tangled garden to the sea.

  Rosy wrinkled her nose at the smell and opened a window which promptly fell out and landed in the weeds and brambles of the flower bed beneath it. ‘Oh. Oh dear. Can you sort that out while I have a look upstairs?’

  Without waiting for a reply, she bounded up the stairs, and as Ron tried to haul up the metal-framed window, he could hear her hurrying footsteps above him. He managed to ram the old hinges back in place and eyed the soot fall in the hearth, wondering if the chimney was safe, then went up to join her.

  He’d never been upstairs in Doris’s house, but wasn’t surprised to find four good-sized bedrooms as well as a bathroom – but each and every room had peeling wallpaper, cracked ceilings, flaking plaster and rotting window frames.

  His heart sank as Rosie excitedly went from room to room, making all sorts of plans as to how it should be decorated and where to put the furniture she’d yet to buy. The place would probably need rewiring and plumbing on top of renewing the roof and all the guttering. It was going to take months to get it habitable again and would probably cost a fortune – but if it was what Rosie wanted, then he’d have to knuckle down and get on with it.

  He left her rummaging around up there and returned to the sitting room to gaze out to the sea, thinking that he could live with a view like that, and there was plenty of room for the ferret hut and his tool shed. The dogs would like it too, with all that lawn to play on, and the beach so close.

  He dug his hands into his pockets, his smile wry as he thought of Doris, and how she’d react to him living in this posh side of town. Havelock Road had never been a place he’d considered living in – but it would certainly be a step up from the pub, Peggy’s basement and the old fisherman’s cottage where he’d started out. But then Rosie was a lady, and it was only right she should have a fitting home.

  Rosie came back and slipped her arm about his waist. ‘It will cost a bit, but it’ll be worth it just for the view, won’t it?’ she said on a sigh. ‘Oh, Ron, we’re going to be so happy here, I just know it.’

  His sour mood fled as he saw the light in her eyes and the yearning for him to love it as much as she did. He kissed her softly. ‘Aye, wee girl. We’ll be as happy as turtle doves, so we will. As long as I don’t put my back out with all the work that needs doing.’

  She slapped his arm playfully. ‘I have a remedy for bad backs,’ she murmured with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. ‘Let’s return the keys and put in an offer, then I’ll show you my magic cure.’

  30

  Jim shivered from the cold wind as well as in the anticipation of seeing home and Peggy again within a matter of hours. He felt excited and strangely nervous about being thrust back into civilian life, for although Peggy and the rest of his family had written regularly and sent lots of photographs, he knew it would take time to settle down, get used to a slower pace, and reacquaint himself with his wife and children.

  As in his brief First World War participation, his time in the army had been structured and tightly regulated, with there always being somewhere to go or something to do, and he’d become used to living in a rough, tough male environment until he’d been sent to Singapore. And that had been quite an eye-opener, for it had proved to him that his Peggy was not the only woman who’d spread her wings during the war and found independence in doing a fulfilling job outside the home.

  Jim knew that his experiences during the Burma Campaign and in the aftermath of the Japanese surrender had changed him irrevocably. He was more sober and thoughtful, less likely to return to the ducking and diving of his youthful days, but more ambitious to forge a good future in which he too would be fulfilled. What that future might hold was as yet unknown, but he meant to grasp it with both hands, and be the man Peggy deserved.

  He stood on the deck of the Empress Aurelia bundled up in his army greatcoat as the dawn mist swirled around him and the ghostly outline of Portsmouth Harbour began to slowly emerge and take shape. The Empress Aurelia had once been a cruise liner, but it had been commandeered during the war and stripped of all its luxuries and refinements to be used as a troopship. It carried not only the remaining troops of SEAC, but the last few returning prisoners of the Japanese who’d finally been deemed fit enough to be repatriated. These men stood alongside him, eagerly waiting for the ship to dock, and searching the quayside for sight of any loved ones who might have come to meet them.

  Jim knew Peggy wouldn’t be there, but waiting for him at home, no doubt as excited as he now their long separation was finally at an end. He watched the ship edge into its berth, heard the shouts of the sailors calling to their counterparts on the dock, and then the rattling grind of the chain as the anchor plunged into the murky water.

  He peered through the mist, frustratingly unable to see much at all, then picked up his heavy kitbag and slung its straps over his shoulder before hefting up the equally heavy holdall. There were several other bags in the hold which would be sent on by rail, and Peggy should have received the numerous parcels he’d posted before he’d left Singapore.

  As the troops and POWs had now been officially demobilised there was to be no further hanging about. Jim joined the long queue waiting to disembark, bitterly disappointed there was no quayside welcoming party, no flags or military band – just a handful of nervous relatives, some disinterested dock workers and a couple of nurses to watch them step onto English soil again.

  He wasn’t really surprised, for the war in Europe had now been over for a whole year, and his commanding officer had warned all the men that the war in the Far East had been so distant, it had been out of sight and was now mostly out of mind. It was galling to Jim to realise that all that blood, sweat and loss h
ad already faded from memory, but then you had to be there to know what it was like and to appreciate the brutal cost so many men had paid.

  He followed the others down the ramp and walked through the vast sheds that housed customs and immigration. He paused to have his passport stamped, nodded his thanks to the official who gruffly welcomed him home, and stepped outside. The sun was finally breaking through the mist, and it looked as if it was going to be a beautiful day.

  Jim hitched up his kitbag, gripped the holdall and headed for the station. If all went as planned, he’d be home for tea.

  Peggy hadn’t been able to sleep, for she was too excited, and her mind too active with all the things she wanted to do to make Jim’s homecoming special. It wasn’t quite dawn when she finally climbed out of bed, impatient to be getting on with her day. Daisy had crawled in with her around midnight, as she often did when she knew there was something exciting afoot, and was now curled up fast asleep.

  Peggy left her there, closed the door softly and went into the bathroom to prepare for the day. She would have a strip-wash now, she decided, and then just before she went to the hairdresser’s, she’d treat herself to a lovely bath with the scented oil Jim had sent from Singapore. Her new underwear was folded within tissue paper in a drawer, and her lovely blue dress and bolero was hanging up in the wardrobe, all ready to step into nearer the time. She wasn’t absolutely sure when Jim would arrive in Cliffehaven, but if the ship came in early, it would probably be around six this evening.

  She was grinning with happiness as she went downstairs to put the kettle on and check that she had everything ready for tonight’s dinner. Ruby, Danuta and Charlie had helped her and Cordelia dress the dining room; Ron had rigged up bunting and balloons out the front to welcome him home, and she’d gone through the house yesterday like a dose of salts making sure everything was spotless so he’d approve of all her changes.

  She hugged her delight to herself, for Solly had given her two weeks off work, and it felt as if half of Cliffehaven wanted to ensure that Jim’s homecoming was as welcoming as possible. Alf the butcher had kept a leg of lamb aside for her; Fred the Fish had supplied some lovely smoked salmon for starters; Sam the greengrocer had sold her cabbages, potatoes and carrots at half price, and Julie had insisted she paid nothing for her hairdo and manicure today.

  She sat down with a fag and a cup of tea to watch the rising sun chase the shadows from the back garden. Martin would be back in time for dinner from the latest delivery into France; Rosie and Ron were providing the drinks. Cissy was due to arrive from London at some point in the day, and Frank had asked rather shyly if it would be all right if he brought Brenda along to the dinner. Of course she’d said yes, for she was thrilled they were getting on so well, and that Brendon seemed quite happy about it. Brendon, Betty and Anne would come straight from school with the children, and John and Doris would get here after John’s physio appointment at the hospital. There was an open invitation to all the others to pop in whenever they could, and although it would mean feeding the five thousand, everyone had willingly chipped in, so there would be enough of a spread to make a good show.

  Peggy thought about Jack who was still struggling to get through all the work he had now he was also selling cars as well as mending them, and could only hope that Jim would realise what a fine opportunity it offered for a stable job and income. However, that was for another day. Jim had to settle in first and get used to them all again.

  The only dark cloud on Peggy’s horizon was the possibility that Bob wouldn’t be here, although he’d promised he’d do his very best – and surely Jim would understand that the farm seasons waited for no man, and as he was now a full partner with Aunt Vi, it was his livelihood and his future.

  ‘Morning, Mum,’ said Charlie cheerfully, plonking down into a kitchen chair. ‘What’s for breakfast?’

  Peggy chuckled. ‘Trust you to bring me down to earth on a day like this,’ she teased. ‘Go and see if those new chickens have laid anything. If they haven’t, it’s toast and cereal as usual.’

  He came back a few minutes later with three brown eggs. ‘Bob said it’ll take a bit of time for them to settle in and start laying properly, but this is a start.’ He put them carefully in the crock by the range. ‘Any news from him by the way?’ he asked, sitting back down.

  ‘No, but I expect he’ll telephone tonight to speak to Dad.’ Peggy popped one of the eggs in to boil and loaded the new toaster with bread slices. ‘Don’t hang about after football practice,’ she warned. ‘It would be awful if you weren’t here when your dad arrives.’

  Charlie rolled his eyes. ‘As if I’d not be here. Honestly, Mum, I’m as excited as you to see him again. And I bet he’s getting impatient on that slow old train.’

  Peggy smiled. ‘I expect he is,’ she murmured, remembering how quickly he could get fed up if made to hang about for anything too long.

  Jim had found the journey home to be achingly slow, for the train stopped at every station and halt along the way. He’d shed his overcoat as the day had warmed up considerably and was now feeling cooler in his tropical whites, but his impatience was rising as the last part of the journey seemed to take an age, and the only way to relieve the nervous tension was to get up and pace back and forth along the corridor, which earned him a few mutters of annoyance from the other passengers.

  The day wore on, and it was almost six o’clock when, at last, he saw the familiar rolling hills, the chalk cliffs and the sea. He leaned out of the window as far as he dared as the train slowly chugged into Cliffehaven Halt, and breathed a sigh of relief as it came to a stop.

  Grabbing his bags, he jumped down, and through the steam saw a blur of blue rushing towards him.

  ‘Jim! Oh, Jim!’ Peggy cried, throwing herself into his arms.

  Jim dropped the bags, catching her just in time to hold her close. He lifted her from her feet and kissed the very breath from her until he realised they had a laughing, cheering audience. The pair of them giggling and blushing like school children, he set Peggy back onto her feet and grasped her hand, almost afraid to let go of her now she was by his side again.

  ‘Welcome home, Jim,’ shouted Stan above the cheers of the disembarking passengers.

  ‘Thanks, Stan. It’s good to be back.’ He nodded and grinned in acknowledgement of the welcoming smiles of the other passengers, and slipped his arm around Peggy’s narrow waist. He bent low to whisper in her ear, ‘I didn’t realise there’d be a welcoming committee.’

  ‘Of course there is,’ she murmured back, her love for him lighting up her eyes. ‘But you wait until you get home, Jim. Bob and Cissy are both waiting for you with all the others.’

  Jim shook Stan’s hand, grabbed his bags and walked with Peggy out of the station, which he noted had changed beyond recognition since he’d left. ‘Good to see you’ve got the old car going again,’ he said, dumping the bags into the boot and settling happily into the passenger seat.

  Peggy cupped his face and kissed him softly. ‘Welcome home, my love, my darling man. I’ve missed you more than words can say.’

  He hugged her to him, noting how small and delicate she’d become, but how radiant and beautiful she was. ‘I’ve dreamed of this day for so long, I can hardly believe it’s real,’ he murmured against her lips. Then he sat back and grinned. ‘Let’s get home, Peg. I can’t wait to see everyone – especially Daisy and my boys.’

  Peggy drove down the High Street pointing out the new Woolworths, W.H. Smith, Boots the chemist and bingo hall which now filled the site of the old Odeon Cinema where Jim had worked before the war. Jim noted that the ancient Mermaid Inn was gone, and an ugly three-storey block of flats was going up in its place, but the Crown was still there, looking very smart in its fresh coat of paint – and Gloria was her usual flamboyant self as she waved an enthusiastic welcome from the doorstep.

  He returned her wave, and as Peggy turned into Camden Road, he felt a shiver of pleasurable anticipation as they passed the new sch
ool and the Anchor pub. He was almost home.

  Peggy slowed to a halt as they reached the line of shops, and there was Fred the Fish, Alf the butcher and Sam the grocer with their wives and children all waving flags and calling out to welcome him home. He climbed out to shake hands and receive kisses, his heart so full of love and gratitude for their welcome he could barely speak.

  Peggy slowly drove the car towards the junction, and although he could see the evidence of war all round him in the bomb sites, he had eyes only for Beach View. The stucco was freshly painted white, the door a shining dark blue, and there were unfamiliar lanterns gracing the pillars at the bottom of the steps – it looked lovely in the sunshine, and thankfully hadn’t really changed all that much. But what made his heart miss a beat and brought tears to his eyes was the bunting and balloons, and the large, hand-painted sign above the door, welcoming him home.

  ‘It looks like we’ve been spotted,’ murmured Peggy, her voice trembling with emotion as everyone came pouring out of the house to wait for them on the front steps.

  Jim was out of the car almost before Peggy had brought it to a halt, and immediately swamped in loving arms and smothered in kisses, the two dogs leaping up, desperate to welcome him as he was slowly drawn up the steps and into the house.

  ‘Hello, Dad,’ said Bob, flinging his arms round him. ‘It’s so good to see you.’

  ‘Oh, son,’ he replied, holding him tightly. ‘It’s the very best thing in the world to see you – and looking so grown-up, too.’ He pulled back eventually and caught sight of Charlie grinning at him. ‘Charlie?’ he gasped. ‘Is that really you?’