by Annie Groves
‘And how is David feeling now? I heard he had to go back into hospital,’ Tilly said, always interested in the lives of the girls who lived or used to live here, and whom she considered her family now.
‘Oh, yes, that.’ Dulcie chose her words carefully. ‘He had to go in and have his legs looked at.’ Then she looked over to where her husband was sitting on the sofa talking to the vicar and she gave him her broadest smile.
David was a satisfied man. He was happy with his lot. However, as he looked at his beautiful wife now he wondered how she could ever be truly happy with a man like him. Surely she wanted more from their marriage? A lot more than he had been able to give. Dulcie was young, she had vitality and beauty, and lit up a room just by walking into it, he knew, and when she spoke she had her audience spellbound. He was a very lucky man and knew he would do anything to make her happy. As the vicar excused himself and went to replenish his tea cup, David decided that if she wanted a son then he was going to do everything in his power to give her one.
An overwhelming sensation was mounting inside David. He remembered the surgeon telling him that the return of his virility may be slow, and it had been a while now since he had had his operation. David vaguely remembered the feeling from the old days; however, this new awareness was different. He had never experienced it before – not even with his first wife – this potent and powerful feeling: an unquenchable desire to be with his wife.
Momentarily, David and Dulcie’s eyes locked, and he knew what the new feeling was. It was an intense love. He had blocked out the pain that he had felt when Dulcie told him of the night in the shelter during an air raid when she, a virgin, had been taken against her will.
David worried that she would still relive the night when their daughter, Hope, was conceived and recognised that she was the only good thing to come out of that terrible night. He and Dulcie were lucky that they could discuss their concerns, but was she ready to make that first tentative step into a fully functioning marriage? He didn’t know.
As the afternoon turned to evening, Dulcie came and sat next to him on the sofa and he put his arm around her, risking good-humoured banter from the other guests.
‘Shouldn’t you two be getting your hot-water bottles ready around now?’ Rick laughed. ‘An old married couple like you should be well past the cuddling stage, I should imagine.’
‘Well, you imagined wrong, old boy.’ David laughed, and drew his giggling wife even closer, giving Nancy cause to tut and shake her head at their open show of adoration.
‘Disgraceful,’ she muttered. ‘You wouldn’t catch me and Mr Black behaving in such an outrageous way. There is a time and a place for everything.’
‘I’m still wondering if she’s ever called him anything other than Mr Black?’ Tilly whispered to Agnes.
‘It’s been a long day.’ David’s eyes told Dulcie that he adored her with every fibre of his being. ‘It’s getting late, darling, we will have to take the children home.’
She nodded as his voice whispered right into her heart and, her eyes locked into her husband’s meaningful gaze of adoration. Dulcie delightedly surmised it was also going to be a long, glorious night …
‘Who’s the best girl in the whole wide world? Tilly Robbins, that’s who,’ Rick laughed, and slid down onto the arm of the sofa, a bottle of beer in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette balancing a precarious line of grey ash in the other.
Tilly gave a tight smile. She really liked Rick – he was the most lovable rogue she had ever known – the only problem was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to commit to a rogue, lovable or otherwise, and he seemed much keener on her than she was on him. He told her daily that he thought she was smashing girl but, try as she might, she could not reciprocate. The words just would not come. They laughed and went to dances and the pictures, and enjoyed the same things – but there was something missing.
When he was incapacitated and needed her, she was there for him and she always would be – as his friend – but as for being his girl, Tilly didn’t feel the exploding fireworks, the vitality, or even the zing that she had experienced in the past with Drew. She and Rick shared many things but she imagined that the girl who married him would have to have stamina to put up with his effervescent personality, his rapier wit and his love of all things ‘dodgy’. Whereas, she was brought up to believe that you got what you paid for – and nothing else.
Rick clearly wanted more than to be good friends, and she wasn’t ready for that yet. Indeed, she might never be ready to give herself completely to him, and it was wrong of her to keep him hanging on in the hope that one day she would succumb to his obvious charm.
She could never love anybody the way she loved Drew Coleman. And if she couldn’t have him, she didn’t want anybody. She was scared, knowing that she couldn’t trust any man ever again because she had no intention of being hurt like that again.
‘I won’t be a moment,’ Tilly told Rick, wishing he would go home now. ‘Did you have a nice day?’ Olive asked brightly.
‘The best, Mum. You did a wonderful job – as always.’
As the last of her guests left the house Tilly felt tired, and emotionally drained too. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and go straight to sleep until she had to travel to Whitehall tomorrow. She and the other three ATS women had received instructions to report to the War Office when their leave was over, but Tilly had been trying to put it out of her mind.
Retreating to the bathroom, she locked the door behind her as the gentle chatter of her mother and Audrey Windle floated from the kitchen below. Peace at last, Tilly sighed, running cold water into the basin before splashing her face and feeling the cooling water ease the raging heat from her cheeks and eyes. Tilly couldn’t cry – it would spoil Mum’s day.
Going into her bedroom, Tilly saw, through blurry eyes, the birthday presents that littered her bed.
‘You should have been wedding presents …’ she whispered, and the party that had gone on downstairs should have been her and Drew’s wedding reception. If only things had been different …
‘If I had a pound for every “if only”, I would be a very rich woman today,’ she said to her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. Then, standing tall, she took a deep breath. No! She had to put all that behind her now. She was an adult now. A new leaf would be turned.
Looking out of the window at the pale blue sky the next morning, Tilly saw that the tranquil Row, silent now, had miraculously been left untouched by enemy fire. She had to make the most of her last hours at home for her mother’s sake, and, taking another deep breath, she tried to think happy thoughts; be thankful for everything she had, instead of dwelling on what might have been. There had to be a bright side, she couldn’t cave in now, and like the rest of the country she had to carry on. Although she was apprehensive of what the future might bring, she was also excited. And in that excitement she vowed to take her mind off Drew Coleman – wherever he may be.
‘I had a wonderful day, Mum,’ Tilly said, when she came downstairs, ‘the best ever.’
‘I am so glad you were able to get home,’ Olive smiled, pushing thoughts of Drew Coleman to the back of her mind and swallowing down her guilt. ‘I thought it was very good of the army to let you come home for your twenty-first birthday – I must write and thank them.’
‘You do that, Mum.’ Tilly gave a watery smile, thinking that if she wasn’t being shipped out to somewhere then she certainly wouldn’t have been home for her birthday. However, if her mum wanted to believe her only daughter had gained a special dispensation to come home and celebrate, then, Tilly smiled indulgently, who was she to ruin the illusion?
‘Mum, would you undo the clasp on my pendant, please?’
‘Aren’t you going to take it with you?’ Olive tried not to look hurt.
‘I thought you might want me to leave it at home; it is too valuable to leave in my locker.’
‘Then I’m sure your commanding officer will look after it for you until you
want to wear it,’ Olive said.
‘Of course.’ Tilly tried not to let her mum see her smiling.
‘You might want to wear it for something special … It will protect you …’
‘Oh, Mum, that’s a lovely thought.’ Tilly tried to keep her voice light, even though her heart was breaking. ‘I will wear it with that blue dress, the one with the sweetheart neckline and short puffed sleeves that you like so much.’
‘Of course you can,’ Olive answered, trying to keep her mind off Tilly’s imminent departure.
‘Archie seemed a bit preoccupied yesterday,’ Tilly said, her brows furrowing. ‘Is everything all right between you?’
‘Barney’s father has been killed. I didn’t want to say anything yesterday and spoil your birthday party – after all we didn’t know Barney’s father …’
‘Poor Barney, he must be so upset,’ Tilly sighed. ‘What will happen now?’
‘Archie is a bit distracted, as you can imagine, but he told me that he will apply to legally adopt the boy … Being an upstanding member of the community and a serving police officer, I can’t see there being a problem … and also, I think the authorities have more urgent things to consider.’
‘Barney couldn’t get a better father than Archie,’ said Tilly. ‘I like him, Mum, and I think he would make an ideal father,’ she added knowingly. ‘He’s a regular, all-round nice chap and I feel a lot better knowing he is here to look out for you.’
Olive did not tell her daughter that Archie had been behaving very coolly towards her since yesterday.
‘I’ll bear that in mind even though I’ve been on my own for twenty years.’ Olive smiled. ‘I’m not sure how I managed for all those years, bringing you up alone.’
The conversation between Tilly and her mother ambled along nicely; it wasn’t important what they said, as long as they said something – not wanting long pauses or a dense silence that could be sliced with a sharp knife.
‘Here’s the taxi.’ Olive’s voice held a slight note of alarm and she tried to suppress it as she busied herself making sure Tilly hadn’t forgotten anything.
‘Mum, I pack and unpack on a regular basis now, please don’t worry.’
Olive hugged Tilly, before following her outside to the waiting taxi, whose engine thrummed in the autumn sunshine as her three friends waved through the car windows. They weren’t going far, but they were all going together.
‘Bye, everybody,’ Tilly called to the waiting group of neighbours, including Nancy Black, nursing a ‘bit of a headache’, and Audrey, whom Tilly presumed had come along to give her mum a bit of moral support. They gathered on the pavement outside number 13 to say goodbye.
‘I feel like a film star.’ Tilly laughed, glad her mum had such strong support at home and glad there would be no awkward goodbyes. It took a few minutes before Tilly was actually allowed to get into the taxi, as she was hugged and kissed and hugged some more, everyone wishing her, ‘All the best!’
‘Now you take care of yourself and don’t go getting into any bother,’ Archie smiled as he hugged Tilly, knowing that even though he wasn’t very pleased with Olive right now he couldn’t let the girl go back without saying goodbye. Tilly’s pendant glinted in the weak sunshine, and Archie thought again that Olive would never have been able to afford such a gem from a legitimate jeweller. ‘Stay safe, I’ll see you soon.’
‘G’bye, Archie, look after Mum for me.’ Tilly’s smile trembled a little as she vowed not to cry. She saw him turn towards his own house, when he usually would have stayed with her mum for a while, but she understood that he had to be with Barney.
‘Now, you make sure you bring the girls back for some good home cooking on your next leave,’ Olive told Tilly, just as Rick came hurrying down the row. Giving Olive a great hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek, he said, ‘Great party yesterday, Mrs R. You did our Tilly proud!’
Tilly laughed as her mother’s face turned a deep shade of pink. Olive wasn’t used to being hugged in the middle of the street.
‘You don’t mind dropping me off at the station, do you, Tills, my little ray of sunshine?’ he said as he hopped into the cab and snuggled himself down in between Tilly and Janet.
Tilly looked to her mother giving an exasperated shrug and laughed.
‘I’ll give you Tills, Rick Simmonds,’ she said, gently punching his arm, knowing that now he had been discharged as fit he was delighted to be going straight back to the Eighth Army.
‘Ow!’ Rick rubbed his arm with theatrical exaggeration. ‘What are they teaching you ladies in the ATS these days?’ Then, laughing, he hugged her again and said quietly in her ear so nobody else could hear him, ‘I’ll miss you, Tilly.’
‘Looking forward to getting back to your regiment, Rick?’ Tilly said brightly. She didn’t want intimate conversations just now, and joined in with the eager chatter of the other three girls. She didn’t intend to shut Rick out, but she needed to focus on what was expected of her, glad that she would be with Pru, Janet and Veronica, who all suspected they would soon be going somewhere hot after the July invasion of the Italian mainland. However, they didn’t talk of that now, mainly because Rick, being his exuberant self, wouldn’t let them get a word in edgeways.
From the upstairs window, Drew Coleman had watched Tilly and Rick Simmonds getting into the taxi cab. He had watched as Tilly’s mom and the neighbours waved off the two heroic soldiers – off to do their duty for their king and country … He gave a hard, almost bitter laugh. He didn’t have a king. He didn’t even have a uniform. And, more heartbreakingly, he didn’t have the girl now either.
Looking down at the heavy gold band in his palm he saw the bluish imprint it left on his flesh as he had held it so tightly. Drew had bought it soon after meeting Tilly, knowing that she was the girl for him and believing always that she would wait for him. Recalling the vows they made on that moonlit night in a little deserted country church, his heart rate accelerated. He imagined he would slip the wedding ring onto the third finger of her left hand on her twenty-first birthday. Tilly and he had made their vows … he never even dreamed she would stop loving him. Surely, he would know if Tilly’s love for him died … He would be sure. He would have staked his inheritance on it. But he was wrong. He hadn’t felt a thing …
Letting the net curtain fall back into place, Drew put the ring in the pocket of his waistcoat, picked up his suitcase and made his way down the stairs.
TEN
9 September 1943
‘Italy has surrendered!’ Janet called, and Tilly held her hands over her ears as the other girls cheered. She had a screaming headache, caused no doubt by the copious amounts of alcohol that had been forced upon her at her birthday bash.
‘Oh, that is good news,’ Tilly whispered hoarsely. She had drank far more port than was good for her, she was sure, and not being used to drinking strong liquor she was now paying the price of a booming head and a wobbly tum. ‘I wish Italy had surrendered on my twenty-first birthday.’
Don’t you think your birthday was memorable enough?’ Janet laughed, putting the dust cover over her typewriter, getting ready for lunch.
‘Of course it was,’ Tilly said, ‘but don’t expect me to drink a toast tonight as well. It’s soft drinks all the way from now on.’
‘Until the next time, Robbins!’ Pru laughed, feeling no pain at all, having alternated between a soft drink and an alcoholic one.
‘Clever dick!’ Tilly said in a mock surly voice, knowing she should have done the same.
‘Italy has surrendered!’ Barney cried, as Olive came into the house from the Red Cross shop, and marvelled at his ability to bounce back from the awful news his father had been killed. But, she realised, Barney hadn’t seen his father since he was a young boy, well before the war, apparently.
‘That is good news, Barney,’ Olive said, taking off her coat. He took her hands and they danced around the front room as the twelve o’clock news informed them that the combined British–Canadian�
�American invasion of Sicily that began in July had reached its goal.
‘Do you think the Germans will surrender next, Aunt Olive?’ Barney asked, his face grim.
‘I hope so, Barney, I really do,’ Olive said, hugging him close; she couldn’t bear the thought of this war going on long enough for Barney to be called up to fight. It was bad enough that Tilly had gone.
A few moments later, Barney said quietly, ‘I’ll have to go into a children’s home then.’ Even though his head was bent Olive could tell he was trying desperately to hold back his grief. ‘Uncle Archie won’t get any money for me once the war is over.’
Olive’s eyes widened as she said, ‘Archie doesn’t look after you because he gets paid for it, Barney.’ She was shocked that the boy thought he was hardly more than a boarder or an evacuee. ‘Archie is very fond of you; we all are. Archie thinks of you like a son. He would be devastated if he thought you didn’t feel part of his family.’
‘But he only took me in because Mrs Dawson lost her son and I had nowhere else to go.’
Barney sounded sensible enough, but Olive knew that, under the surface, he was still that scared little boy whose mother and grandmother – the two women he loved most in all the world – had been killed, leaving him alone.
‘You are not alone any more, Barney, and you never will be as long as we are here.’ She decided it wasn’t her place to tell Barney that Archie was making enquiries about adopting him, reasoning that Archie would want to do that himself.
‘Italy have surrendered, Callum,’ Sally whispered, leaning forward as close to his face as she could get. She had sat at his bedside right through the night, bathing his head with cold flannels and dabbing his cracked lips with lanolin oil. Sally prayed to anybody in the heavens who would listen in the hope that the new medication would break the mucus that was filling his lungs and making his breathing painfully shallow.
