With a Kiss and a Prayer (The Cliffehaven Series)

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With a Kiss and a Prayer (The Cliffehaven Series) Page 32

by Ellie Dean


  He smiled sheepishly and went down to his basement room. Standing in the doorway, he suddenly saw it through Peggy’s eyes and was quite shocked at how much he’d let things slide.

  The bed was a jumble of blankets, sheets and pillows, all liberally covered in cat and dog hair and dirty paw marks. The floor was littered with underwear, discarded boots and socks; and his fishing gear was stacked by the chest of drawers, which spewed out his collection of vests and sweaters. The curtains were still drawn over the window that overlooked the basement corridor, and as he pulled them back, he realised the frame was dark with mould and the glass was filthy. He caught a whiff of ferrets, farts and dog-breath, and attempted to throw the window open, but it was stuck fast with grime and grease.

  He fetched a bucket of hot water, a cloth and a scrubbing brush and set to work with a will. He managed to get the window open at last, and began to gather up the dirty washing. Once that was done, he started on the rest of the room, his shame at letting it get into such a state growing by the minute. It was all very well lecturing others about helping wee Peggy, but it seemed he was the worst offender.

  ‘To be sure I can turn over a new leaf as well as anyone,’ he muttered, gathering up the discarded newspapers and tying them into a neat bundle to use for toilet paper or rekindling the fire.

  ‘Leopards rarely change their spots,’ said Peggy, who’d quietly come to the doorway to watch him. ‘But you’re doing a good job so far. Keep it up, Ron.’

  Ron gritted his teeth as she chuckled and walked away. As much as he loved Peggy, he did wish she wouldn’t creep up on him like that. Rosie was the same. Was it something all women did to catch their man out – or just a habit of the women he loved? Either way, he knew he’d have to turn over a new leaf, for Peggy was at the end of her tether, and Rosie would stand no nonsense on her return and he had to be on his best behaviour. If she’d have him.

  An hour later he emerged from the basement in triumph to find that Peggy was helping Daisy with her breakfast, Rita was preparing to go to the fire station, and Cordelia was immersed in her newspaper crossword.

  ‘I would like you all to come and see my room,’ he declared. ‘To be sure it is now the finest room in the house, with not a speck of dust to be found, and a window so clean you wouldn’t know it was there.’

  They encouraged Cordelia to leave her crossword and turn on her hearing aid, and then dutifully trooped downstairs.

  Ron stood back admiring his room as the women crowded round him. All his clothes were folded away, his boots hidden in the bottom of the wardrobe, his fishing tackle neatly stored on top of it. The bed was freshly made, the furniture polished, and there was a pot of hyacinths on the chest of drawers which now had all its knobs firmly back in place. He’d shaken the rug, scrubbed the floor, put fresh bedding in for Flora and Dora, and even swept away the cobwebs which had hung like cargo nets from the ceiling.

  ‘It was about time you did something useful,’ grumbled Cordelia. ‘But I doubt it’ll stay like this for more than half a day.’

  ‘It looks lovely, Grandpa Ron,’ said Rita, giving him a hug. ‘And smells nice too, for a change.’

  ‘Very nice,’ said Peggy, holding tightly to Daisy as she watched the ferrets sleeping in their cage tucked beneath the high bed. ‘But you’ve still got a long way to go to convince me you’ll do this every day.’

  Ron crammed his hat onto his head. ‘To be sure you women are never satisfied,’ he grumbled. ‘I work me fingers to the bone all the while me shrapnel’s moving and giving me hell, and all I get is sarcasm. Come on, Harvey. Let’s be up to the Memorial for some added insults from Matron just to brighten our day.’

  He stomped off into the garden as the others broke into laughter. He’d show them he was a reformed character, and then they’d be laughing on the other side of their faces, so they would.

  Ron followed Harvey down the path and through the gate, and as he began the long climb to the top of the hill he felt his spirits soar as the skylarks trilled high above him. It was a beautiful day, his old pal Stan would eventually get over Ethel with help from all who really loved him, and Rosie would soon be home where she belonged.

  He took a deep lungful of the cool, clean air and watched the sun spark diamonds on the water. Anything was possible on a day like this, and although Rosie might be having second thoughts, he knew in his heart that they were meant to be together, so all was right with his world.

  Peggy’s world was still a bit rocky, for her worries were legion and mostly unresolved. And yet she had to admit that her crying session last night with Ron and her heart-to-heart with Dolly had made her feel a little better. She had been trying to ignore how much the anxiety of living in wartime had affected her recently, and it felt such a relief to let it out. As the sun was promising a lovely day, she decided to leave the house early and take Daisy to the park for an hour before she had to be at work.

  The large recreation ground lay to the west of the town, and looked very different to how it had once been. The bowling greens had been turned into communal vegetable plots; the cricket pavilion was now the meeting place and storage facility for the Civil Defence and Home Guard, and where there had once been carefully maintained football and cricket pitches there were more vegetables, with only a solitary bit of rough ground set aside for rugby and football.

  Cliffehaven’s main public shelter lay beneath it all – a dark, rather frightening place that stank of lavatory buckets and too many people confined into a single space, which everyone avoided like the plague unless it was absolutely necessary.

  Peggy was about to turn off the High Street and head for the children’s playground when she heard her name being called. She stopped and turned to see Pauline coming towards her with a determined expression that didn’t bode well.

  Not wanting Daisy to witness any unpleasantness, she let go of her little hand. ‘You run on ahead, darling,’ she said. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’

  As the toddler eagerly trotted off towards the other small children playing in the sand pit and on the swings, Peggy turned to face a clearly furious Pauline. ‘Good morning, Pauline,’ she said pleasantly. ‘It’s a bit early for you to be out, isn’t it?’

  ‘I have an early shift at the Red Cross,’ Pauline said, slightly out of breath after her fast walk. ‘But that’s neither here nor there. Do you know what trouble you’ve caused by interfering in my business?’

  ‘I haven’t interfered in anything,’ Peggy protested, determined not to be cowed by her hectoring tone.

  Pauline folded her arms and glared. ‘You told Mother what I said to you in confidence. And within days, she’s on my doorstep. I’d call that interfering.’

  ‘I’d call it coincidence,’ Peggy replied evenly. ‘Your mother comes and goes as she pleases, and I certainly played no part in her latest visit.’

  ‘I don’t believe in coincidences,’ Pauline retorted. ‘You must have talked to her, otherwise why would she turn up when I’d made it plain she wouldn’t be welcome?’

  ‘The only time I talked to her was when she was already here,’ said Peggy. ‘Dolly came because you hadn’t answered her letter, and she’d hoped that she could persuade you to see things her way.’

  ‘Carol and I have always had to see things from her point of view,’ Pauline said bitterly. ‘My sister might be soft enough to fall for her old flannel, but I’m not – and I made that very clear to her.’

  ‘Which is why she left before she’d planned to,’ said Peggy. ‘She was in despair at the way you behaved towards her, and could see she wasn’t helping the situation by staying, and that you and Frank needed to sort things out on your own.’

  ‘What goes on between me and my Frank is none of your damned business,’ snapped Pauline. ‘And as for being in cahoots with Mother when you knew how I felt about her – well, that just goes to prove you’re no real friend, Peggy Reilly.’

  ‘I’m sorry you feel that way,’ said Peggy calmly. ‘But my
friendship with Dolly has very little to do with you, and quite honestly—’ Peggy bit off the words, realising how close she’d come to causing a real rift between them by telling Pauline that if she wasn’t her sister-in-law then she’d probably have nothing to do with her. ‘We’re family, Pauline, and family has to stick together at all costs – especially during the hard times.’

  ‘There wouldn’t be so many hard times if people like you didn’t poke their nose into other people’s business – and just because we’re related doesn’t mean I have to like you, Peggy. I thought I could trust you with my thoughts and feelings, but it turns out I was wrong.’

  Peggy glanced across at Daisy, who seemed to be playing with the other children. She looked back at Pauline, who still had the light of battle in her eyes, and decided she’d had enough.

  ‘You’ve clearly decided that me, your mother and the entire world is against you,’ she said briskly, ‘and I spend little enough time with my daughter to want to waste it arguing with you. Once you’ve stopped to think what your selfish attitude is doing to Frank and those who love you, perhaps you’ll have the decency to come and apologise.’

  She didn’t wait for her reply, but turned away and hurried towards Daisy, who’d tripped over something and was yelling fit to burst as she sprawled on the grass.

  It took some minutes to pacify Daisy, and once she was happily playing again, Peggy shot a furtive look over her shoulder. There was no sign of Pauline, and with a sigh of relief, she returned to pushing Daisy back and forth on the swing.

  The hour was over all too soon and Daisy complained bitterly as Peggy lifted her from the swing and carried her back towards the High Street. She tried coaxing her into a better mood by talking about her best friend Chloe, who would be waiting for her at the nursery, and peace was restored by the time they reached the entrance.

  However, Peggy seemed fated that morning, for as she waited at the kerb to cross into Camden Road a shiny black car pulled up beside her and Doris climbed out.

  ‘Hello, Margaret,’ she said with a smile. ‘This is a surprise.’

  Relieved that Doris wasn’t on her usual high horse, Peggy smiled back. ‘Hello, Doris.’ She took in her sister’s lightweight suit and smart hat. ‘You’re looking very well. Are you off somewhere nice?’

  ‘A fund-raising coffee morning at the Officers’ Club,’ Doris informed her, bending down to tickle Daisy under the chin. ‘My goodness, hasn’t she grown since I last saw her?’

  As Doris was clearly trying to be nice for once, Peggy didn’t remind her that it had been several months since her last visit to Beach View and it was therefore hardly surprising that Daisy had grown.

  ‘Yes, she’s getting bigger and more independent by the day,’ she said instead. ‘But Doreen’s been terribly kind and has sent on the lovely dresses and shoes that her girls have grown out of, so I’m never short of things for her.’

  ‘And how is our sister?’ asked Doris. ‘She rarely writes, but then I suppose she’s too busy now she’s saddled with that fatherless baby as well as the two girls, while holding down a job.’

  ‘Yes, very busy,’ Peggy murmured, glancing at her watch. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Doris, it’s been lovely bumping into you, but I have to be at work in ten minutes.’

  ‘Ah, yes. That ghastly factory,’ Doris sighed. ‘I do wish you’d find something more suitable, Margaret. Couldn’t Mr Goldman have given you an office post instead of sending you down on the factory floor with all those common women?’

  ‘I can’t type,’ said Peggy, refusing to rise to the bait.

  Doris grimaced as she looked down at Daisy. ‘Do wipe that child’s nose, Margaret. It’s quite disgusting.’

  Peggy quickly mopped Daisy up, but her daughter was getting restless and they were in danger of being late. ‘I really must get on, Doris. But there is one thing I’d like to ask before I do. Why did you give Rosie’s letter to Ethel?’

  Doris raised one finely shaped eyebrow. ‘I was extremely busy that day and she kindly offered to deliver it. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Ethel not only didn’t deliver it, but she opened it and read it. It finally got to Ron yesterday.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right then,’ said Doris, digging into her expensive handbag.

  ‘Actually it was far from all right,’ said Peggy. ‘Rosie needed him to run the pub while she went north to arrange her husband’s funeral. Luckily for her he’d taken it on anyway, but because that letter wasn’t delivered, he was in absolute pieces thinking she’d left him for that Major Radwell.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t blame her if she had,’ said Doris with a sniff. ‘You know my thoughts on Ron, and although I don’t approve of the Braithwaite woman, I’m sorry her letter wasn’t delivered as promised.’

  ‘Thank you, Doris, I appreciate your apology.’

  Doris dipped her chin in gracious acceptance and slipped a threepenny bit into Daisy’s rather grubby hand. ‘What do you say, Daisy?’

  ‘Tank you, Dor, Dor,’ the child replied, suitably awed by such largesse.

  ‘Thanks, Doris. I’ll get her some sweets for a treat later if I can find any.’

  Peggy decided that as Doris was being so nice, she should do something in return. ‘It would be lovely if you could come over for a cuppa or lunch one day. I’m busy this weekend, but what about Saturday the seventeenth?’

  ‘I’m afraid that isn’t possible,’ said Doris. ‘I’m hosting a luncheon that day in aid of a children’s charity Lady Chumley and I have set up to help local children who’ve lost a parent or been made homeless by the war. It’s just a small gathering of twenty or so of Cliffehaven’s elite.’ She regarded Peggy thoughtfully. ‘I suppose you could come if you wanted, but I’m afraid it isn’t a suitable event for small children.’

  Peggy had to bite the inside of her lip to prevent herself from smiling at the insincerity of the invitation and the idea of hosting a children’s charity event at which children weren’t welcome. The thought of attending such a function, where she would have to smile and be polite to the snobbiest women in Cliffehaven, made her shudder. She’d done it once before and sworn she’d never do it again.

  ‘That’s a kind offer, Doris, but I make a point of spending most of the weekend with Daisy now I’m working.’

  Doris looked faintly relieved and dug into her handbag again to pull out a small leather-bound diary with a tiny gold pencil attached to it. ‘I could come for afternoon tea on the Sunday,’ she said, the pencil poised above the page. ‘Would four o’clock suit you?’

  ‘That would be lovely. Now I really must go. See you on the eighteenth.’

  Peggy scooped Daisy onto her hip and ran across the road towards the sprawling factory, rather pleased that her snooty sister had been nice to her for a change.

  24

  Over a week had passed since Ethel and Olive’s arrest, and as Ron made his way back from the Memorial on that Saturday morning, he was looking forward to dropping in on his old pal Stan for a cuppa and a chat before he had to open the pub.

  Ron’s spirits were high, for the truth behind Ethel and Olive’s disappearance had not been revealed, thanks to Bert and John White keeping a tight lid on it. Stan was coping very well now the rose-tinted spectacles had finally been removed and he could see what sort of woman Ethel was. He was mortified that he’d been such a fool to marry her when nearly everyone had advised him against the match, and was almost pathetically grateful that Ruby and April were standing by him.

  Stan’s reputation and kindness over the years had earned him much sympathy, and he’d been astounded by the number of people who’d made a point of visiting him to offer help when the story got round that Ethel had left him after a most interesting tussle with some smartly dressed woman outside the factory. Ruby had been to visit her mother very briefly, but she’d said little about it, and Ron suspected it hadn’t been an easy meeting.

  He tramped down the lane, Harvey galloping ahead of him in pursuit of a bird that h
ad rattled out of the hedgerow to fly past his nose and flutter annoyingly just out of reach. Ron’s mood had been lifted not only by the fact that Danuta was recovering quite rapidly and would soon be able to come home to Beach View, but because he’d had a short note from Rosie in the post the previous afternoon, telling him she would be returning to the Anchor on Monday evening. There was no indication of how she felt, and in what capacity she’d be coming back, or for how long. Two days of not knowing felt like for ever, but if he kept busy they’d hopefully pass quickly.

  Ron reached the country road and climbed the steep hill until he reached the top, where he could see Frank already waiting for him in what was left of the old farmhouse the army had requisitioned at the beginning of the war.

  Harvey greeted Frank, who made an enormous fuss of him, so taking advantage of this, Harvey flopped on his back to encourage him to rub his stomach, and squirmed in ecstasy at Frank’s rough handling.

  ‘Daft beast,’ Ron muttered before taking his son into a strong embrace. ‘How are you, my wee boy?’

  Frank slapped his father on the back and grinned. ‘I’m all right, as it happens, Da. Pauline’s in a better mood now she’s had a couple of letters from Brendon, and she’s feeling quite pleased with herself for being promoted at the Red Cross as a co-ordinator. She actually gets a small wage now, and I’ve told her to treat herself, so she’s off to the hairdresser’s this morning for a shampoo and set, whatever that is.’

  The two of them sat down on one of the fallen rafters, and while Ron lit his pipe, Frank smoked a cigarette and idly stroked Harvey’s ears.

  ‘It’s a bit worrying that Gerry’s got this new pilotless rocket thing, isn’t it?’ Frank said. ‘I’ve yet to see one close up, just a few lights in the sky and the whirr of a motor, but the report of what happened in London the other day made it sound as if they can cause a lot of damage.’

  Ron grimaced. ‘Aye. Poor old London always gets the worst of anything Gerry throws at us. Just be thankful we’re living down here and out of harm’s way.’ He puffed on his pipe and watched as the Air Artillerymen struggled to manoeuvre yet another huge anti-aircraft gun in place.

 

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