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by Jill Barry

  “I imagine you still love Stephen,” said Charlotte cautiously. “Even after all those years.”

  “Love is timeless, my dear. You’re right when you say I still love my late fiancé. Your father and I have some shared history as you well know. We enjoy each other’s company.”

  Charlotte took a deep breath. “I’m pleased. I really am. Because one day, if we’re spared, I know Robert and I will marry and I’ll leave home.” Her hands flew to her mouth. Wide-eyed she stared at her godmother. “I didn’t mean to say that. I hope I’m not tempting fate.”

  “I’m sure you’re not doing any such thing,” Eleanor said gently. “You did take the trouble to say if you were spared. I’m delighted to hear you sound so sure of your feelings for each other and to know you’re happy, Charlotte.”

  “Thank you. But please don’t say anything to anyone, will you? Not even to Dad. It’s early days. I still feel cheated out of a proper courtship. Robert and I haven’t even discussed becoming engaged yet. And if we do, it might be one of the longest ever engagements.”

  Eleanor rose to rescue the soup from bubbling a tad too vigorously. “You don’t know that. When Robert has some leave, I’m sure he’ll want to talk about your future together. The thought will be helping keep him strong and focused, you know. The possibility of being with the girl he loves one day.”

  Charlotte nodded, trying not to let the tears well. There was so much to look forward to. In spite of the dark days and evil deeds happening in Europe and beyond, not even the threat of Hitler’s big bad bombers could quench the love she felt for her young man.

  December tested everyone’s resolve, bringing not only fewer daylight hours, but also such searching cold, Charlotte’s fingers and toes felt numb as she coped with working outside in freezing conditions. Eleanor knitted her a woollen cap with earflaps that she complained made her look funny but which she wore with gratitude. Customers stayed inside their cars while their tanks were filled, their breath steaming up the inside of the windows as they waited. There were petrol coupons to deal with as well as money and when her fingers fumbled while she collected the right change, Charlotte sometimes stamped her feet in frustration at the time taken. Fortunately, people understood, often speaking of the weather as another enemy to be overcome.

  Late one afternoon, as Charlotte counted the takings and made sure there was enough change to start them off next day, the telephone rang. She sighed because she was counting three-penny pieces and had almost collected a pound’s worth.

  She picked up the receiver and said “Corner Garage.’”

  “Go ahead, caller,” said the operator.

  Charlotte held her breath.

  “Hello, Charlotte. It’s me.”

  “Robert! Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m being allowed leave. Only a few days but I’m taking the train on Friday.”

  “George hasn’t said anything – did you want to speak to him? He’s still in the workshop.”

  “You let him know for me, Charlotte, please. He can tell Ma.”

  “Of course. What time’s your train due in Coynesbury?”

  “Two thirty if I make my connections. I can get the bus and hop off at the garage stop if you like.”

  “I’ll drive to Coynesbury and meet the train. I’ve been very careful with my petrol allowance.”

  At first she wondered if he’d heard properly. Then he spoke softly. “I want you to be the first person I see as the train pulls into the platform.”

  “You remembered!”

  “Did you really think I’d forget?”

  Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat, preventing her from finding the words to answer him.

  “Are you there?” His voice sounded anxious.

  “I’m still here, Robert. I can’t believe I’m going to see you so soon. Will they allow you Christmas leave as well? Oh, I do hope so.”

  “I’ll explain it all when I see you.” He paused. “Look, lovey, I’d better go. There’s a queue of blokes behind. Ta ta for now. I’ll see you on Friday.”

  “Robert, I …” Charlotte heard a buzzing as the connection broke. He’d gone. But soon he’d be travelling home and she’d have her first sight of him in uniform.

  Charlotte’s pile of three-penny pieces toppled as she abandoned coin counting and flew out of the office towards the workshop. “George,” she called. “You’ll never guess who I’ve been talking to?”

  Mr Costello looked up as she appeared in the doorway. He put down the rag he was using to clean an engine part and pretended to be deep in thought, his head on one side. “I’d lay odds on it being our boy.”

  “Ten out of ten! It was Robert and he’s asked me to let you and his mum know he’s coming home on Friday. Sounds like the phone was in great demand so he couldn’t talk for long.”

  George narrowed his eyes. “Would this be embarkation leave? Come to think of it, he probably wouldn’t tell you over the phone.”

  Charlotte stared at him. “He didn’t say anything much, except the bare essentials. He’s going to explain everything when he gets here, I do know that much.”

  Robert’s father nodded, his expression grave. “It’ll be good to see the lad. His ma will be over the moon.” His face creased as he grinned at Charlotte. “You’ll need to take some time off, I reckon.”

  “I can’t leave you and Jack to do everything.”

  “We can manage without you for a couple of days. You make the most of having your young man home, while the pair of you have the chance.”

  Pleasure at the thought of spending time with Robert spread through her whole being like runny honey over warm bread but it came tinged with apprehension as she contemplated the possibility of him being sent to a war zone. Charlotte knew she must put the thought behind her. She couldn’t remember the last time she took a whole day off from the business unless it was to complete some major domestic task like spring-cleaning. It wasn’t the kind of holiday weather she preferred but who needed sunshine when they anticipated their sweetheart’s imminent arrival?

  “Mr and Mrs Costello have invited me round to tea on Robert’s first evening,” said Charlotte when she arrived after work next day. “George asked me this morning.”

  “That’s kind,” said Eleanor. “So I could have a night off from cooking?”

  Charlotte stiffened. “You don’t have to wait for me to go out before you take a night off. The last thing I want is for you to feel an obligation to be here every evening.”

  “I know you don’t,” said Eleanor, putting her hands on her hips. “I want to ask my neighbour, Doris, round for a bite to eat some time and this seems a good opportunity.”

  “So I’m stopping you from enjoying a social life, am I?”

  Eleanor stared at her goddaughter. “Are you all right, Charlotte? You’re not normally so prickly. Of course you’re not stopping me from having a social life. It so happens I’m not interested these days. You know your father thought it was a good idea if we teamed up for the time being.”

  Charlotte stooped to unlace her work shoes. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m just a bit …”

  “Apprehensive?”

  “I think I am but I don’t know why I should be. I can’t wait to see Robert but we haven’t seen much of each other, certainly not alone. We’ll be walking out together, spending time here or at his house. What if he finds me boring?”

  “He won’t find you boring. Tell you what, I bet he’s thinking exactly the same as you. He’s probably wondering what on earth you see in him, especially as he’ll be wearing his uniform and sporting a short back and sides the likes of which you’ve never seen on him before.”

  Charlotte stood there in her thick wool socks, staring at Eleanor. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do. Now, why don’t you hurry upstairs and fetch those nice warm slacks of yours and your Shetland sweater. Bring them back down here and get changed by the stove. Then I think you and I need a little pick me up.”
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  Charlotte admitted to feeling a whole lot more cheerful once she changed into comfortable clothes and settled into the easy chair, letting her godmother pour her a glass of sherry, just for a special treat and not to make a habit of.

  “Robert always seems so self-possessed,” Charlotte said after taking a sip of the rich wine. “I know he’s older than me but comparing him with my brother, he seems older than Don.”

  “He’s the only son and he’s probably had more in his life to worry about than you and Donald have – business matters, I mean. I’m not trying to make light of your family situation, love.”

  “Mum and Dad had a tough time financially when Don and I were kids, didn’t they? She told me much later on how they’d felt they were constantly clinging to the edge of a precipice, worried sick the bank manager would give them an ultimatum. Lots of people have had business worries because of the depression and now the war.”

  Eleanor nodded her silvery-fair head. “You’re right, of course. But you and your brother were born in Peel Bay. You’ve always lived here and a lot of people know you and your history. The Costello family drifted for some years, I gather, before they settled here to take over Fun Land.”

  “Does that make them any worse people?”

  “No, of course not,” said Eleanor. “All I’m saying is that Robert’s probably a bit more world wise than you are. He’s had to cope with changing schools and being unable to maintain friendships. You’re an extremely competent young woman and he probably admires that quality in you. I hardly know the boy but I don’t imagine he’d be attracted to a shrinking violet type of girl.”

  Charlotte collapsed into giggles. “I shall have to watch out this sherry doesn’t make me squiffy,” she said.

  “You need some food inside you. Braised beef and onions tonight, with carrots and cabbage. I cheated and bought two fruit trifles from Ashton’s Bakery for our pudding.”

  “My favourites.” Charlotte cradled her glass between her fingers and watched the golden liquid swirl and settle. “I’m very lucky to have you around, Auntie El. Not sure you’re so lucky about the boot being on the other foot though …”

  Her godmother laughed and began draining vegetables. “If we have the odd falling out while all this is going on, my dear, we won’t have too much to complain about.”

  Charlotte rose from her cosy seat and began laying the table. “I could have ended up on some bleak air base or Army camp in the back of beyond – fat chance I’d have had of seeing Robert then. We could’ve gone for years without seeing each other, couldn’t we?”

  Eleanor’s back was turned. “Oh, easily,” she said. “That’s why you need to treasure every precious moment while he’s home on leave. Talk to one another and share your thoughts and your memories. He should be your very best friend.”

  “Not Pearl?”

  “I don’t mean you should drop Pearl, good heavens, no. What I mean is, your husband to be should be your soul mate and your partner in every way. That’s the ideal. Young women sometimes think they’re in love but when it comes to it, they sometimes find they don’t like the person. The same goes for men falling for women too.”

  “Don and Kitty for example?”

  Eleanor ladled meat and gravy on to two plates. The savoury smell filled the kitchen and Charlotte’s tummy rumbled loudly.

  “Time to eat,” said Eleanor. “But yes, I know Kitty’s very glamorous and I’m sure she attracts lots of attention. I imagine she fell for Donald because he’s a good-looking young man working in an established family business. But she was marking time with him, not developing a real friendship.”

  Charlotte waited for Eleanor to seat herself then picked up her knife and fork. “I understand what you’re saying. Don heard through the grapevine she was trying to make someone else jealous. I hate that kind of behaviour.”

  Eleanor chuckled. “Of course you do. You’re not the kind of person to scheme and plot in order to get what you want. You take life on the chin, love. It’s a good characteristic to have and it’ll stand you in good stead for the future.” She lifted a forkful to her mouth and chewed.

  “Top marks, Auntie El. This is a lovely meal. And thanks for the chat. I was starting to get a bit edgy. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  “You’re a human being like the rest of us. I couldn’t bear living with someone who was perfect.”

  “Then you’re definitely in the right place.”

  Chapter 10 - Tea for Two

  Tiny flecks of snow fluttered from a leaden sky as Charlotte parked her father’s car then walked across to the station. Coynesbury was the market town, about fifteen miles inland from Peel Bay. She knew she’d arrived too early. She also knew she couldn’t have tolerated one single minute longer at home, so eager was she to find the correct platform for the train bringing Robert back to her.

  Among the shifting crowds were many servicemen and women. Charlotte enjoyed watching the faces as passengers arriving at the barrier found a loved one waiting. She looked away quickly as a nearby couple embraced, the man in his naval uniform, sweeping the woman off her feet and whirling her around in his arms. It seemed wrong to spy on their joyful reconciliation.

  She was almost tempted to visit the station buffet while she watched the minutes tick away on the enormous round clock suspended above the platform. Instead she bought a newspaper and went into the ladies’ waiting room, having checked with a porter she was on the correct platform.

  Eleanor had said, don’t chatter away nineteen to the dozen. Let Robert take the lead. He’s been shut up with dozens of other young fellows for almost three months. Don’t worry if it seems as though you’re meeting a stranger. Don’t be surprised if he’s picked up expressions you don’t remember him using before he joined up. He belongs to two different worlds now. You can’t possibly know what he’s going through but you and his parents are the constant things in his life and it’s important you don’t try to act too sophisticated or clever. In particular, don’t talk about other men.

  Charlotte had queried this, more than a little indignant because this whole business of falling in love and conducting a romance seemed so complicated. She talked to lots of men every day. Most of her customers were male and then there were the oil and tyre company representatives, as well as salesmen hoping to sell her puncture repair kits, tins of wax for polishing motor cars and all sorts of impedimenta. This was her life, she’d told her godmother.

  Eleanor insisted that didn’t matter. If the conversation lags, don’t be afraid of silences, she said. You can always talk about Pearl. Talk about your dad’s letters and how Donald’s getting on at his new posting. Don’t pester him with too many questions, she’d advised.

  Charlotte looked at her wristwatch and jumped to her feet, panic striking as she realised the train was due in five more minutes. Her sense of humour rescued her. With any luck he’d recognise her from a distance. She was wearing an overcoat teamed with a black felt hat, pulled down over her ears. If she’d worn the woolly cap with the earflaps, he’d probably have looked straight through her.

  Bracing herself, she opened the waiting room door and stepped on to the platform. Passengers stood alone or in twos and threes, suitcases or kitbags at their feet. Some blew on their hands or performed a little jig in order to keep warm. A group of airmen, doubtless from the base where Pearl worked, stood together, laughing and joking. They seemed unaffected by the bone chilling temperature, maybe buoyed up by the thought of their weekend pass and the journey to London, final destination of Robert’s train. One of them was very tall, several inches taller than Charlotte. He glanced at her and smiled as she walked by. She returned his smile but continued her progress along the platform. Behind her a bubble of laughter from the RAF boys told her the tall one was probably being teased and maybe egged on to engage her in conversation.

  Nothing could deter her from keeping her promise. She’d reached the end of the platform.

  A porter approached, wheeling a trolle
y. “You’ll have to walk back, Miss, if you want to find a seat quickly. This here’s where the luggage van stops.”

  “It’s all right, thank you, I’m meeting someone. Is there any delay?”

  The man shook his head and jerked his thumb in the direction of the track. “Train’s on time.” He peered into the distance. “Here she comes.”

  At first the train was only a distant rumble then Charlotte caught sight of the engine and saw the smoke belching, heard the rumbling turning into thundering as the big locomotive dropped speed and clanked along the rails, squealing brakes added to the noise. She began waving as soon as the steam engine whooshed past and the first carriage slid by. Faces gazed through the windows but often grime obscured the glass and all she saw was an indistinct mass. If Robert was trying to spot her, he probably had more chance than she had of identifying him. She went on waving, often being waved back to by cheerful travellers but still unsure whether Robert was actually on board or not.

  When the train stopped, she began walking slowly back up the platform where passengers were disembarking and those waiting to board jostled their way towards open doors. Khaki-clad soldiers of various shapes and sizes were everywhere, toting kitbags. Charlotte stopped walking, her mittened hands clasped together as she searched in vain.

  Suddenly he was there. A gap in the crowd showed him standing a few yards from her. Their gazes locked and he began hurrying towards her, his kitbag hoisted over one shoulder.

  “Mind your backs,” a porter called, wheeling a loaded baggage trolley towards the exit.

  Robert sidestepped the trolley and arrived in front of Charlotte. He dumped his bag at his feet and held out his arms to her. She dived into his embrace and all her doubts and nervousness melted away faster than the steam vanishing into the wintry air.