East End Angel

by Rivers, Carol

‘I can’t believe it, Dad.’

  Syd grinned. ‘Better get your things packed.’

  ‘What?’ Amy burst out. ‘She ain’t been here five minutes. And our Ruby’s still in hospital!’

  Syd shrugged. ‘Her husband comes first, no doubt about that.’

  Amy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Just when I had my family around me. This bloody war don’t give anyone a chance to be together.’ She took out her hanky and hurried from the room.

  Syd squeezed his daughter’s shoulder. ‘She don’t mean nothing by that. Under normal circumstances, she’d be putting out the flags for Jim.’

  ‘I know, Dad.’

  ‘This bit of news changes the lookout for you too, son.’ Syd looked up at his son-in-law. ‘With Jim needing his bed back, you’d best be resigned to staying with us. Not for ever mind, just till Ruby’s on her feet and we can work out what’s best to be done.’

  Syd waited for a reply and found none forthcoming. But like it or not, the lad would have to see sense.

  ‘So, Pearl, you’d best be saying cheerio to your sister.’

  ‘Yes,’ Pearl replied quietly.

  Syd glanced down at the thin blue sheet, hiding his concern that Jim had said so little about his injury. Would it make a difference to his job prospects when he was demobbed? Would he be able to get his old job back? He sighed softly to himself, wishing that he could be of more help to his first-born. But Pearl was a strong girl, in mind and body, and she’d take it on the chin whatever it was. Ruby needed him more right now, and perhaps when all was settled he could take the bus up and shake Jim’s hand in person.

  Syd caught his daughter’s glance. ‘He’s out of danger now,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Your Jim has come through and, whatever the injury, he’s pointed in the right direction. You’ve been a brave lass and I’m proud of you.’

  There was nothing he could add, but one thing he knew for certain: Jim Nesbitt was leaving behind him a living hell and it wasn’t a moment too soon.

  On Tuesday, Amy’s eyes were full of tears. ‘I’ve packed a nice big sandwich and an apple for Cynthia,’ she said as she bent to kiss her granddaughter. ‘Now, Cynth, remember your gran loves you and tell your dad we’ll be thinking of him.’

  ‘Better go, love,’ said Syd, picking up Pearl’s bag and patting Cynthia’s head.

  ‘Bye, Mum.’ Pearl stepped outside but Ricky followed, drawing her into his arms. ‘This isn’t the end,’ he whispered as he kissed her cheek, ‘not by a long chalk.’

  Pearl took Cynthia’s hand, walking quickly to join her father. She was trembling, but she didn’t want Ricky to see.

  ‘Don’t forget to write,’ called Amy, ‘and watch out for them V2s.’

  They set off across the green to the bus stop, Cynthia skipping on the grass. Pearl glanced back when they turned the corner. Ricky was standing beside her mother, his tall figure looming over her. What had he meant, ‘This isn’t the end’?

  ‘You all right, love?’ Syd asked.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’

  ‘Don’t fret about your mum. She knows you have to go back to Jim.’ He caught hold of Cynthia’s hand as they crossed the road.

  They stood at the bus stop in the cold morning air and Pearl turned to her father. ‘I’m going to miss you, Dad.’

  ‘Me too, ducks. Keep in touch.’

  ‘Patty said I could ring her.’

  ‘You do that, but don’t forget your skin and blister ain’t your responsibility now. She’s got her husband at her side, and whether by luck or judgement the lad found himself here, to my mind the timing of Jim’s return is a blessing. Now, here’s a fiver, put something in the larder when you get home.’ He pushed a rolled-up note into her pocket.

  ‘Dad, you shouldn’t.’

  ‘Give us a kiss, the bus is coming. I’ll have a word with the driver about Ruby and Ricky’s things, slip him a few bob to pick them up from your end and drop them off at the depot. You got someone to give you a hand with them?’

  ‘Yes,’ Pearl agreed quickly. ‘Fitz will.’

  ‘Good, that’s settled then.’ Syd gave her a last hug.

  Pearl seated herself and Cynthia at the back of the bus as Syd made arrangements with the driver.

  ‘We’re going to see Daddy,’ Pearl whispered to Cynthia, relief filling every part of her body. Despite her concern over Ruby, she knew that her parents would see no harm came to her sister. Ricky couldn’t put up any opposition to the baby now.

  ‘See Daddy?’ Cynthia asked, and Pearl nodded as the bus started up. They were on their way home.

  Pearl fell into Gwen’s open arms, dropping her bag on the pavement. ‘Oh, Gwen, it’s good to be back.’

  ‘We’ve missed you! It’s not a week but it seems you’ve been gone years.’ She smiled as Cynthia was thrown into the air by Fitz, her giggles echoing through the street.

  ‘Is everything all right? Have any V2s dropped over here?’ Pearl asked.

  ‘South of the river is getting it worst. Last week a rocket came down on Lewisham and killed thirty-six. The poor buggers didn’t stand a chance. What’s it like in the country?’

  ‘You don’t get as many,’ Pearl said.

  ‘Good to see you back, gel.’ Fitz lowered Cynthia to the ground. ‘What’s been going on down in the sticks?’

  ‘Give the girl a chance, Fitzy. Now take her bag up. Is the key on the back of the door?’

  Pearl nodded. ‘Yes, where I always leave it.’

  ‘Good, come on young Cynth, come into old Gwen’s and see what I’ve saved for you.’

  Pearl gazed around the shop. It smelled just the same – of vegetables, strong bacon and paraffin. She was glad to be home.

  ‘Here you are, ducks.’ Gwen gave Cynthia a brown paper bag. ‘There’s a few sweeties specially for you.’

  Pearl smiled at the sight of her daughter making short work of the sweets as Gwen sat her on the counter.

  ‘My, you’ve got heavy. Your granny been feeding you up on all those farm eggs.’ Gwen pulled the chair from the corner and told Pearl to sit down. ‘Now, what’s been happening? We seen ’is nibs shooting off on Sunday. Walks by us without so much as a good morning. Had a face on him like a week-old batter pudding.’

  ‘Gwen, Ruby’s in hospital.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She’s expecting and lost some blood. The doctors won’t let her home just yet.’

  The bell tinkled and Fitz appeared. ‘What have I missed?’

  ‘Ruby’s in the family way,’ Gwen burst out before Pearl could answer, ‘and was taken to hospital as she was so poorly.’

  ‘Is she all right now?’

  Pearl nodded, but felt very tearful.

  ‘Come on, love.’ Fitz patted her back. ‘She’s in good hands, I’m sure.’

  ‘You must start looking after yourself,’ said Gwen, knitting her brow. ‘I’ve watched the weight fall off you. You don’t look as though you’ve been sleeping well, either, not with them bags under your eyes. Don’t mind me saying, but how are you going to manage upstairs with another little ’un on the way?’

  Pearl smiled hesitantly. ‘Jim’s coming home.’

  Gwen’s eyes went wide. ‘On leave, you mean?’

  ‘I had a letter to say he’s been wounded. He could be home any time.’

  ‘Oh, blimey, gel,’ said Fitz, ‘you’ll have a full house.’

  ‘Mum and Dad said Ruby and Ricky can stay with them.’

  ‘’Spect your mum’s pleased about that,’ nodded Gwen. ‘And it’s only fair, after all. You’ve had to shoulder the lion’s share so far.’

  ‘Now, you won’t have anything decent in the larder,’ said Fitz. ‘How are you off for coupons?’

  ‘I didn’t use any at Mum’s.’

  ‘In that case, we’ll sort you out a few things. I’ll bring ’em up later.’

  Pearl found herself in Gwen’s arms, a big kiss planted on her cheek and one for Cynthia. She had wonderful friends in the Hemsleys. It was good
to be back. She couldn’t wait for Jim to see Cynthia. She was so proud of their little daughter.

  They had so much to look forward to. No matter what Jim’s wounds were, like Ruby, she would find a way to help her husband recover.

  Was it possible that in time, they could all be happy again?

  Chapter 23

  That evening, whilst Cynthia drew with her chalks on the Morrison, Pearl lit a roaring fire. The kitchen smelled damp, and Ricky had left dirty dishes in the sink and newspapers scattered round. Pearl felt his presence in her little home. She wanted to scrub it all out, to make the place her own again.

  When Fitz delivered the groceries, Pearl asked him if he would help her with the bags.

  ‘It’ll be me pleasure,’ Fitz nodded. ‘We’ll load them on the barra. Have you got enough suitcases to put everything in?’

  ‘No, don’t think so.’

  ‘I’ve got an old leather one at the back of the storeroom. Don’t shut properly but you can tie string round it.’

  ‘That would do nicely.’

  ‘I’ll bring it up.’

  After Pearl had made tea and put Cynthia to bed, she began packing the battered and lockless case that Fitz had given her. Ruby’s clothes and Ricky’s two suits, shoes and uniform fitted perfectly. The things that were left over she folded into his naval duffel bag. It was when she found the small attaché case behind the curtain of the dressing table that she was suddenly filled with sadness. Ruby had been happy before Ricky. Would she ever be as happy again?

  Quickly Pearl filled the attaché with Ruby’s personal items. Snapping the locks tight, she placed it carefully with the suitcase tied with string and the duffel bag.

  When all was done, she kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed. Tomorrow she would wash the sheets and pillowcases, and drag Cynth’s bed back to her bedroom.

  But no, she couldn’t do that. Cynth now had a room to herself. Goose bumps spread over Pearl’s skin as she thought about Jim’s strong body, his arms wrapped round her, his lips kissing her neck and his breath in her hair. Making love was what she had missed so much.

  What would it be like to be with him again? They could never get enough of each other once. Would it still be the same? Pearl smiled as she sat there, her fingers stroking the eiderdown. She bounced once or twice and laughed aloud. She hadn’t laughed in such a long while. But now she had good reason. Jim would soon be home.

  By Friday, every room had been swept and cleaned. Pearl had sewn curtains for the boxroom from a length of red and white gingham, and stored Cynthia’s clothes, toys and chalks in a chest of drawers that she’d bought from Percy Flint. Cynthia liked her room. The camp bed was folded up and there was space to play.

  That afternoon Pearl left Cynthia with Gwen whilst she went to the telephone box. First she spoke to Mr Brewer and told him the news. He sent Ruby his best wishes, promising to send on her wages if Pearl could provide an address. Next she telephoned Patty.

  ‘Ruby’s still in hospital,’ Patty told her. ‘Your mum’s gone to visit.’

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Pearl asked quickly.

  ‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ Patty assured her. ‘Your mum told me she’s much happier now her husband’s here.’

  As Pearl walked home, she remembered what her dad said. Ruby wasn’t her responsibility now. She had Ricky to lean on, or so they all hoped.

  In the early hours of Saturday morning, Pearl woke with a start. It was two weeks from the day Jim’s letter was written. Her bedside clock said half-past four, but she couldn’t sleep.

  Climbing out of bed, she put on her dressing gown. Everything was in place; all Jim’s clothes returned to the wardrobe, his shoes arranged neatly beneath. The dressing table and mirror was under the window and on its shiny surface were the pretty pink jars that Jim had bought her.

  When would he be home? Going to the wardrobe she took out her honeymoon suit. Yesterday she’d ironed it and sprinkled lavender water on the collar. But perhaps a skirt and jumper would be best? She couldn’t decide.

  The living room was freezing. She put a match to the fire she had prepared last night and soon the coals began to glow red. Thanks to her dad’s five pounds, there was enough coal to see them through Christmas.

  She stared into the flames. This year Christmas would be their first family Christmas. She had enough put by for a chicken or rabbit, plenty of gravy and roast potatoes. She would cook them until they were brown and crusty, just how he liked them. This caused her to think of Mrs Nesbitt, who she hadn’t seen lately. But now Jim was home perhaps things could be different and they could visit as a family.

  Through a chink in the blackout curtains she saw it was still dark. Her mind was full of Jim as she returned to the kitchen and sat at the Morrison. Would he be able to climb up the stairs? How bad were his wounds? And when would Ruby come out of hospital? She hoped her mum would write and tell her all the news.

  Restless again, she sat by the fire. Closing her eyes, she began to dream of the future and how it was going to be . . .

  With a start, Pearl opened her eyes. The warmth of the fire had made her doze off. She rubbed her cheeks and blinked and thought she was dreaming as she looked up at the tall man in the army greatcoat leaning heavily on a wooden crutch. ‘J–Jim?’ she stammered, lifting her head from the cushion.

  ‘Don’t move. I want to look at you.’

  Pearl felt a lump in her throat so big she couldn’t swallow. In the firelight she saw a stranger standing there, his face hollowed and gaunt, his body twisted at an unfamiliar angle. But then she looked into his eyes and at their deep colour, which hadn’t been tarnished by war. It was her Jim. It was!

  They kissed long and hard, hungry kisses that drove everything from his mind – the war, the death, the suffering, the pain and the fear of more pain. Jim wasn’t even aware of his crutch slipping to the floor with a clatter, and the slight tremble running through his wife’s body as she gripped him, her lips burning on his and not a breath taken between them. For years he had imagined this moment; in the dust and filth and cries of the dying, he had imagined Pearl and her body and the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. He swayed slightly as his head throbbed, his muscles arched and contracted in need, and his gut turned over and seemed to sail from one side of his body to another. If he let her go, if she slipped out of his arms, if he woke up from this dream . . .

  Jim, Jim . . . let me breathe! I ain’t gonna run away.’ She was half laughing and he groaned softly, embarrassed at his tight hold.

  ‘Sorry . . . sorry . . .’

  ‘Don’t be. Oh, Jim, I can’t believe it’s you.’

  ‘It’s me, all right.’ His laughter was awkward as he damped down the desire, the animal need of a man on the brink.

  ‘Come and sit down.’

  He let himself be helped, but he was grateful to clutch the back of the couch and steady himself.

  This wasn’t how he’d imagined it, not the return of the victorious hero, straight-backed and gung ho, as the films had portrayed before the war. Now he was having to grit his teeth, torn by the want inside him and the knowledge that half of him was no man, a leg he dragged, that caused him to cuss and blind, and then be ashamed of himself when he saw others who were worse. He’d seen plenty of those – the crippled and maimed that still filled his thoughts – and, if given half a chance, he’d chisel out the part of his brain that threw up the unwelcome reminders.

  He leaned painfully and eased himself down as he’d been taught by the nurses, an old man’s action that he hated with all his heart. When seated he stretched out the stiff limb, tore his eyes back to his wife.

  ‘Blimey, gel, so this is what the old place looks like.’ He glanced around the darkened room, lit only by the shadows of fire. ‘Christ knows there’ve been times I never thought I’d clock it again.’

  ‘I ain’t even put the light on. Or dressed. Or brushed me teeth.’

  He took her in his arms, hiding the grimace that s
hadowed the pain. ‘Your pearlies are sparkling, sweetheart. And in the dark you ain’t gonna get a shock looking at your old man.’

  ‘Jim, what happened to your leg?’

  ‘Put it like this. I won’t be going for no long runs just yet.’ He nodded to the wooden crutch on the floor. Its top was covered by dirty old cloth that eased the discomfort as he leaned. ‘I gotta use that thing to get me along.’

  ‘Will it get better?’

  ‘Dunno. Gotta see the doc about that.’

  ‘Does it hurt?’

  ‘Too bloody right it does. Got stiff in the van that brought me home. There was two other blokes, all of us was in hospital together.’

  ‘Hospital? Where?’

  ‘Southampton. But they ran short of beds, so the VADs were brought in. Suited me, though. Didn’t matter what time of night it was when we left, as long as I got home. But listen, I’ll tell you me morbid ’istory later. Right now, I want to see our nipper.’

  Pearl threw her arms round him. ‘Jim, she’s lovely! We’ve got a beautiful daughter!’ He smelled her hair, her body, her breath, and he kissed her again, so hard that it didn’t seem to matter for a moment that he wasn’t the man he used to be. Slowly he held her away. ‘I want you bad, Pearl, but let me see her first.’

  This time, he accepted her assistance as she linked his arm round her shoulder. He kicked his crutch dismissively from their path as he hobbled to the hall, attempting to carry his weight on his good leg.

  ‘I’m a right old hop-along,’ he joked, inwardly squirming at his disability. ‘You’ll need to give me a good kick up the arse to get me going.’

  She looked up at him and laughed. ‘Jim, you ain’t changed.’

  He wanted to tell her he had. Oh God, he’d changed in a thousand ways on the battlefield. He’d killed rather than be killed. He’d slaughtered in anger and passion, and he’d ended the lives of men that he hadn’t even known. Men who were no more than boys, and others with wives and kids, just like he had Pearl and little Cynth. But instead, he took her face in his hands.

  ‘I love you, Pearly-girl.’

  ‘And I love you, Jim.’