Only a Mother Knows

by Annie Groves

  ‘Let me have a look at you,’ she said after a few moments, holding Tilly at arm’s length. ‘Oh, you look tired, have you been travelling long? How long are you home for? Where are your bags? Have you got any washing?’

  ‘Mum, slow down,’ Tilly laughed and, taking off her soft cap, registered her mother’s amazement at her new shorter hairstyle. ‘It’s called the Liberty Cut, Mum,’ she explained, ruffling the semi-shingle of waves and curls.

  ‘It’s very short,’ said Olive, walking around her daughter and eyeing the new style from every angle, ‘but I like it. It suits you, love.’

  ‘All the girls are having it done,’ said Tilly. ‘It saves on hairpins, and ears are coming back into fashion, don’t you know.’ They all laughed and, before long, they were sitting at the kitchen table and excitedly catching up on all the latest news. Olive happily realised that her Tilly seemed to have matured into a woman since she joined the army and her arrival home for the holiday made her Christmas complete. Nothing was going to put a damper on the season now.

  Only a Mother Knows

  TWENTY-THREE

  The air raids on Britain had reduced substantially, giving people hope for the future and for an uninterrupted Christmas. People began to think that they dared to celebrate after all. And now that everyone was going to be back together, the atmosphere in the Robbins household was one of pure happiness.

  ‘You should have seen Nancy’s face when your mum said she was thinking of building a sty and starting a pig club,’ Agnes laughed. Baby Alice had been put to bed and they all sat around the kitchen table with cups of hot cocoa and mince pies that Olive had not long brought out of the oven.

  Olive, laughing, was now wrapping her gifts in plain brown paper at the table, saying with mock seriousness, ‘Don’t mock it, my dear, pigs are very popular in parts of London.’

  ‘Some people are buying goats for their milk, too,’ said Tilly, who had travelled around the country a great deal since she joined the ATS.

  ‘Nancy would have a seething fit,’ Olive pointed out, ‘although I do think that goat’s milk is an acquired taste.’ If she was completely honest, Olive thought as she wrapped a knitted dolly in newspaper, even though she was fed up with the restrictions forced upon them by this war, the sight of little Alice’s face when she got up tomorrow to open her presents would more than make up for it. After all, Christmas was all about children, and the innocence of the season would be all the more special for Alice and Barney being there.

  Barney had spent all day making newspaper chains and was now looping them around the ceiling to give Alice an added surprise when she woke up in the morning, although Olive had a sneaking suspicion that he was enjoying himself very much indeed, too.

  She had managed to buy, and was now wrapping, a book called William and the Evacuees by Richmal Crompton. Barney was so fond of reading now, a pastime he’d hardly ever bothered with before being taken in by Archie and his poor wife, God rest her soul. Olive had also knitted him a sleeveless pullover from a deep burgundy cardigan she never wore any more and, not being able to measure it properly because it was a surprise, hoped it fitted.

  ‘Barney looks as if he’s having the time of his life in there,’ Tilly observed coming into the kitchen, and settling down to hear all the latest Article Row gossip. After much discussion about the welfare of baby Alice it was agreed she could have a future working in the police force with Archie after Tilly remarked that she had caught the two-year-old rooting around in her haversack in the sideboard.

  ‘She gets into everything now,’ Olive smiled. ‘We need eyes in the back of our heads to keep up with her. I remember when you were just the same.’ She patted Tilly’s hand indulgently; so much had happened since then, she thought, recalling how Tilly brightened up everybody’s lives with her sunny nature in the same way that Alice was doing now. It never ceased to amaze Olive how a rag doll or a spinning top – whatever they could afford – would be played with endlessly until bedtime. Jim’s mum would sit in quiet contemplation or snooze off the huge dinner Olive had cooked … Happy days.

  And now her baby girl was serving with the British Army, helping to win the war and another little one was in the house for Christmas. These were the things that meant the most to her at Christmas time, she thought.

  ‘So much happens when I’m not around,’ Tilly laughed, glad to be home, even if it was only until the day after Boxing Day. However another knock at the front door stopped their chatter for a moment, just as Sally ran in through the back door on a gust of freezing air. Olive hurriedly went to answer it as Sally passed her, rushing upstairs to pack.

  ‘I hope the trains are still running,’ Sally called, not wanting to miss George’s arrival at Liverpool docks. She had fully intended to leave for Liverpool this morning but there was an emergency at the hospital and she couldn’t get away. Now she knew she was cutting it fine, but if she hurried she might just make it in time. Cramming her nightclothes and a toothbrush into an overnight bag, Sally’s heart was hammering against her ribs; she hoped she hadn’t missed the last train. That would be too awful for words.

  Dashing back down to the warm, homely kitchen, at first she didn’t register the solemn faces of her friends. ‘I won’t forget to give George your best wishes and I know he’s going to be thrilled when I tell him about the huge goose you will all be eating tomorrow!’ Sally could not contain the anticipation searing through her right now but her new-found joy turned to an overwhelming cloud of dread when she saw Olive standing near the door. In her hand she held a telegram. And as she gave it to Sally her eyes were full of glistening tears.

  ‘He’s not coming home after all,’ Sally said before her trembling chin prevented further communication. She lowered her bag to the floor and covered her face in her hands. Olive hurried to her side at the same time as Tilly and they all huddled together.

  ‘What’s happened? Is it George … Has he …?’ Nobody could bring themselves to ask the awful question they so desperately wanted to know the answer to and dreaded in equal measure. Sally shook her head, her eyes bright as another tear rolled down her cheek.

  ‘No, nothing like that, thank goodness,’ she exclaimed, suddenly aware of the shock she had just given them all. ‘He’s still alive but the telegram told me not to go swimming today; it’s too cold in the pool.’

  ‘He means Liverpool?’ asked Tilly, her eyes sad, understanding her friend’s distress and putting her arm around Sally’s shoulders. ‘Better you knew before you travelled all that way there, and then to be disappointed when you got there and found he wasn’t docking after all.’

  ‘We were going to put wreaths on the graves,’ Sally said in a hesitant voice.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think …’ Tilly’s hands flew to her lips and she looked extremely embarrassed. Her eyes were downcast now, unable to meet Sally’s.

  ‘Please, don’t give it another thought.’ Sally patted her arm to reassure her friend. ‘I will go in the New Year, then at least it gives me a chance to be with Alice for Christmas and perhaps take her back to Liverpool when the weather warms up a bit.’ Sally fell quiet for a moment as her decision began to make more sense. ‘After all, Dad would want me to be with her.’

  ‘I’m sure he would,’ Olive said with great relief; Sally’s telegram, although bringing news she didn’t want to receive, was, at least, not the worst kind of news.

  ‘George was in such a rush to get the message to me, by the look of it, that he didn’t even wish us a Merry Christmas,’ Sally laugh-cried, drying her tears. ‘Wait till he comes home, I’ll have words.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll look forward to that,’ Agnes said and before long the chatty atmosphere resumed and they all continued to swap the news they couldn’t write in a letter.

  ‘Oh well, we can all have Christmas together, even if there aren’t as many of us,’ Tilly said. ‘It won’t be like last year when Drew played Father Christmas – or Santa Claus, as he used to say. Do you re
member how he got his mother to send over money she’d collected from all her society friends? And how he bought presents from Harrods for all those children who wouldn’t have had anything otherwise?’

  ‘That reminds me.’ Olive looked a bit sheepish. ‘I wasn’t sure what was happening this year and you know the government is always going on about saving this and saving that and sharing what you have got with others …’

  ‘What have you done, Mum?’ Tilly’s voice held a note of dread, knowing it wasn’t beyond her mother’s kind-hearted intentions to offer to bring the less-fortunate home on Christmas day.

  ‘Well, I did offer to work in the Forces Canteen but they had enough volunteers this year,’ Olive laughed. ‘Then I got to thinking, it would be a poor “do” if I let poor Barney and Archie have Christmas dinner on their own, when we have that huge goose and we could all muck in together.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a lovely idea,’ said Tilly, who really liked Sergeant Dawson and had heard good things about how the young lad was faring now from her mother’s letters. She suspected that Archie would probably welcome company this year above any other.

  ‘It wouldn’t be much fun for either of them to be on their own this year – or any year, if the truth be known,’ said Sally.

  ‘Oh, that is good to know, I’ve been saving as many of my points and coupons as I could,’ Olive confessed, ‘even though there is little to be had in the shops in the way of luxuries.’

  ‘Is Dulcie coming tomorrow?’ Tilly asked expectantly. ‘I haven’t seen her since the wedding. I hear her sister is staying, that’s a turn-up for the books, I must say.’

  ‘She said she will come over around five-ish, and she’s driving David’s car.’ Olive took a deep breath. ‘I taught her and she wasn’t a very good pupil. I’d take my chances walking on ice rather than let Dulcie drive me – and those high heels she wears when she’s behind the wheel are lethal.’ They all laughed, knowing Dulcie was not the most patient learner; especially in the dark.

  Olive’s only other worry was that there wouldn’t be enough food to go around, to say nothing of the sherry situation, which was looking dire this year due to the shortages. So, she realised, nobody would be getting tipsy. She went on to tell the girls what Nancy said about coming in early to save lighting her own fire and saving coal.

  ‘Not a mention of bringing a shovelful in here,’ Tilly said. There was silence for a moment and then everybody burst into uncontrollable laughter and it was only when Sally reminded them that Alice had not long gone off to sleep that they managed to quell their hilarity.

  ‘Will Ted be coming around for tea tomorrow, Agnes? Olive asked. ‘I know he can’t be here for lunch, but it would be nice to see him sometime on Christmas Day.’

  ‘Thank you for that, Olive,’ Agnes said, ever so grateful that Olive treated her like a member of her own family and included her in everything a normal family would have done. ‘Since his mum has been a bit poorly of late and the girls can’t cope on their own I’m not too sure but I’ll let him know you offered.’ Agnes knew her Christmas would be spoiled if Ted couldn’t come for a visit, but at least she would see him at work tomorrow.

  ‘How is Dulcie feeling?’ Tilly asked. ‘Is she getting as big as a house yet?’ They laughed again although not unkindly, all keenly aware how Dulcie liked to take care of her appearance and look immaculately groomed at all times.

  ‘I’ve never seen her so happy,’ Olive told her daughter. ‘Marriage definitely suits her, although she did say that David’s mother is coming to visit them tomorrow morning.’

  Only a Mother Knows

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Dulcie had never known a Christmas Eve like it; usually she would be dancing the night away at the Café de Paris or some other sought-after dance hall, not standing over her dining table worrying if everything looked good.

  For the fifth time, her nerves jangling, she surveyed the large table in the middle of the dining room, resplendent in a fine white cloth, dazzling as the centre light brought out the opulent sparkle of the silver cutlery and crystal glasses, which she had taken out of storage especially for tomorrow’s lunch with David’s mother. She wanted everything to be perfect for her first visit.

  But if she felt like this now, Dulcie thought, she dreaded what she was going to be like tomorrow. She didn’t even have Edith to talk over her worries with, as her sister had gone to stay with theatre friends for Christmas. Then again, it might be a good thing she couldn’t be there for Christmas lunch. Dulcie knew what Edith was like in the presence of a title, and there was no saying what she would come out with. No, on reflection, it was probably better that Edith wasn’t there.

  Glad she was finally meeting David’s mother, Dulcie didn’t want to let her husband down, knowing he too was anxious. It was at moments like this that she was glad she had never taken to alcohol otherwise she might be tempted to hit the bottle. It was going to take a convincing performance to trick David’s mother into believing she was carrying her grandchild, since Lady James-Thompson knew how badly injured he had been. However, given the fact that he had forbidden the doctors to let his mother know the exact details of his injuries, David had told Dulcie not to worry about a thing. But Dulcie did worry. Women, especially mothers, could sense these things.

  Olive realised that there would now be quite a gathering for Christmas lunch, what with Sally and Alice, Tilly, Archie, Barney and the Blacks from next door. Happily she went to collect the milk from the step on Christmas morning, glad she had fought her impulse to stay up to guard the goose all night, having dismissed tales of suspect looters who were determined to neither work nor want and broke into the homes of decent folk to steal whatever they could get their hands on. Alice wasn’t up yet and Olive decided to have a cup of tea before Archie came to collect Barney and her girls descended for breakfast.

  A chill wind made her shiver in the frosty mist as she pulled up the collar of her plaid woollen dressing gown and peered into the quiet street. She loved this hour of the morning when people were still in their beds and the air was still. She sent a silent prayer to heaven for the repose of the souls of her loved ones, and wished baby Jesus a happy birthday before thanking the good lord above they were all still in one piece.

  Then as she bent to lift the milk from the step a low rumbling noise caught her attention and Olive craned her neck, looking first left and then right down the street, hoping the Germans weren’t going to raid London today. There was no sign of anybody as the heavy thrum of an engine was disappearing into the distance. Then she noticed a square cardboard box just beyond the milk. Olive was nervous about investigating what it contained. One couldn’t be too careful these days. What if it was a trap? What if the Germans had left it there?

  ‘Pull yourself together, woman,’ a little voice inside her head told her. If there were any signs of Germans around here then Archie would be the first to know – after Nancy, of course. Olive gave a gentle unassuming laugh knowing the woman’s curtains were on permanent twitch alert and she would have been here knocking regardless of the time if anything had been going on last night.

  Olive relaxed a little when she worked out that Archie would have finished his shift by now, and to her delight she could hear his soft whistling as he ambled down the row after a full night’s work. She was even more pleased when Archie, noticing she was standing on the step, quickened his pace.

  Giving her a small grin as he reached her gate, he said, ‘Been waiting there for me all night, Olive?’ He lifted the latch, ambling up the small path.

  ‘Some hope, Archie, it’s freezing out here, I wouldn’t be surprised …’

  ‘… if we have snow, yes, you keep saying,’ he laughed as she stood aside to allow him into the house. Before she even closed her front door she heard Nancy’s front door slam – so, if her neighbour had been on the prowl, thought Olive, she would have heard every word.

  ‘Take no notice,’ said Archie. ‘If she’s got nothing better to do than
snoop into other people’s lives she must be having a really boring time of it.’

  Olive felt soothed by his words; he was good to have around, she thought. Her rock of common sense, that was Archie.

  ‘What’s that you’ve got there?’ he asked as she brought the box to the table.

  ‘I don’t know, I opened the door and there it was.’ As Olive began to pull at the box, Archie stopped her by placing his hand over hers. She felt a rush of pleasure course through her, although she tried hard not to show it.

  ‘Here, let me check it, we can’t be too careful.’ Cautiously Archie lifted the box and listened carefully before giving it a little shake. Something inside shifted with a dull rattle and Olive gave a start of anxiety but the sergeant calmed her nerves with a little shake of his head.

  ‘Shall we take the box outside?’ she asked in hushed tones.

  ‘I think there will be no harm leaving it here for further inspection,’ he said, laying the box down. Olive noticed that it took up a quarter of the kitchen table as her curiosity got the better of her.

  ‘Are you going to open it, Archie?’ she whispered, dying to know what was inside now … Reaching over, her fingernails caught the lid of the box and she began to tug. The air was electric with anticipation and she wondered if she should have waited for Archie to open it after all. But now the lid was almost off, Olive knew that she had to carry on. Holding her breath she released the tightly fitting top. Just as she was about to open it, a noise behind them made them quickly turn. Tilly yawned her way into the kitchen giving Olive and Archie the fright of their life.

  ‘Oh, you scared the living daylights out of me!’ Olive exclaimed, guiltily holding on to the lid of the box with one hand and clutching the neck of her dressing gown with the other. Although what good that would have done her if Tilly had turned out to be a foreign marauder she couldn’t have said.