by Annie Groves
Everybody listened to the repeat broadcast of the king’s speech being relayed on the evening news and nodded in shared agreement when King George the Sixth reminded them that ‘… recent victories won by the United Nations enabled me this Christmas to speak with confirmed confidence about the future …’
‘That’s good news,’ said Nancy, before being shushed by all those gathered around the wireless, much to her obvious chagrin.
‘… and that the forty tremendous months behind us have taught us to work together for victory …’
‘Hear, hear!’ chorused the listeners.
‘… we must see to it that we keep together after the war to build a worthier future …’
The nine people around the table, even little Alice, stood for the National Anthem and then as the final notes tailed off, everybody including Barney, Nancy and her husband, resplendent in their homemade Robin Hood-style party hats, resumed their seats at the table, which now looked as if it too had been blitzed, with empty plates and glasses, and the huge goose carcass lying redundant on the silver platter. Tilly, offered to do the washing up whilst Agnes went to help.
‘You must be thrilled,’ Tilly said after Agnes had confided to her friend the news of her father.
‘You won’t mention it to anybody, will you? I haven’t told Ted yet,’ Agnes said in a low whisper.
‘Of course I won’t,’ Tilly assured her, turning on the gas-powered geyser for hot water. She hadn’t really wanted to talk, just to dream of Drew as she washed the mountain of crockery in readiness for the evening get-together when Dulcie and David would be here along with the vicar and Mrs Windle, but that would be selfish of her after Agnes had revealed her most important news. Her mother had always taught her to think of others before herself and she did – usually.
‘It is so frustrating when you can’t talk of the thing you most want to discuss,’ Agnes said, grabbing a clean tea towel, making Tilly feel doubly contrite.
‘Don’t you want him to know about your family?’ Tilly asked.
‘Of course I do,’ said Agnes, ‘but I feel that it would change things.’
‘In what way?’ Tilly asked, her brow furrowed as she passed Agnes the plate.
‘I think he might feel as if I’m getting above myself.’
‘By having a family to call your own?’ Tilly’s brows shot up. She knew Ted’s mother wasn’t fond of Alice and she also knew the woman craved respectability, but being a farmer’s daughter was nothing to be ashamed of, surely?
‘I feel such a failure,’ confessed Agnes, drying the dishes and putting them in the cupboard so Tilly couldn’t see her crestfallen features.
‘What do you mean, Agnes, a failure? You have the kindest, most loving heart I have ever come across, you’re not a failure.’
‘Oh, Tilly, bless you.’ Agnes gave a little nod of her head and said a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens for sending her such a friend.
‘Oh, there you are, we were going to send Archie out on horseback to come and find you!’ Olive was obviously a little glassy-eyed after a lunchtime sherry, and laughed as she ushered Dulcie and David into the front room, where Sally was banging out a rendition of ‘Roll Out the Barrel’ on the upright piano.
‘David’s mother came for lunch and we couldn’t shove her out of the door,’ Dulcie declared over the cacophony of Sally’s tuneless voice, feeling right at home again.
‘You should have brought her with you, David,’ Archie called over the singing.
‘What, and ruin a perfectly good party? I don’t think so, do you?’ The men laughed and Archie handed David a glass of something dark and alcoholic that he claimed was a punch. Spluttering on the first sip, David gasped that its strength was almost lethal as he passed Archie a wicker basket full of bottles.
‘Ask no questions, Sergeant,’ David laughed, implying black-market acquisitions, although Archie suspected David had raided his own burgeoning drinks cabinet to cheer the party along. As the sound of seasonal good cheer echoed around the room nobody caught the knock at the front door at first and then a few minutes later Barney, making the sound of an aeroplane in full flight, zoomed into the hallway and opened the front door when he heard an impatient ran-tan.
‘Did somebody say there was a war on?’ asked a deep male voice from the front-room doorway. Everybody turned – and there stood Callum.
‘Hello, everybody, I hope you don’t mind me popping in like this,’ he said, his face bright with happiness. ‘I was in the area and I thought I’d come to see my little niece.’ Catching sight of Alice his face beamed even more brightly. ‘My, how you’ve grown!’ he exclaimed, picking her up and giving her a huge hug.
Sally felt something akin to sheer delight sear through her veins, quickly followed by a rush of shame; she shouldn’t still feel this way now, surely? George was the one she was engaged to. She shouldn’t enjoy Callum’s familiar kiss upon her cheek as much as she did, she reprimanded herself as she felt her face suffuse with heat at his touch.
Everyone at once tried to shake Callum’s hand and pat him on the back through his navy blue greatcoat. But when he said, ‘A very merry Christmas to you’, she felt it was meant for her and her alone. Even though he had been writing to her regularly of late she hadn’t expected him to turn up here without warning. Of course she realised if he had some leave it was obvious he would want to see little Alice, after all she was the daughter of his only sister.
‘When did you dock?’ Sally asked, trying to appear unfazed by his sudden appearance, still remembering that dizzy breath-catching-in-her-throat feeling she had had when Morag had first introduced them. Callum had come to walk his sister home from the Liverpool hospital after they had been on nights, and the minute she had seen her friend’s tall, good-looking brother, with his thick dark hair and his warm smile, Sally had been lost.
Callum was kind, considerate and, well, just everything Sally had ever imagined herself finding attractive in a man. Callum, with his worn Harris tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows, his Tattersall shirts, and the warmth in his piercing blue eyes whenever he looked at her, had stolen Sally’s heart completely. And by kissing her as he had done one Boxing Day evening he had shown that he cared about her too, even if he had said afterwards that he hadn’t intended it to happen and that, as a poorly paid assistant teacher with a sister to support, ‘I’m the worst kind of a cad for kissing you when I know I have nothing to offer you.’ Sally remembered him saying it as clearly as if he had just spoken to her now. However she also remembered, as her face flushed hotly, he had paused and looked at her and said huskily, ‘At least not at the moment.’
‘That’s classified, I’m afraid. I can’t tell you where I’m going or where I’ve been,’ Callum laughed in response to her question. ‘I couldn’t get leave and not see Alice. Look, Alice, darling …’ He turned his attention back to the little girl in his arms. ‘I brought you this.’ He handed Alice a rag doll and the child, thrilled, scrambled down and put it in the cradle that Archie had made.
‘Twins!’ she squealed with glee, causing the assembled party to smile.
Callum and Sally’s eyes locked for a second longer than was necessary before Callum said brightly to the assembled guests, ‘I haven’t come empty-handed!’ Taking his kit bag, to the delight of everybody present, he emptied half a dozen oranges onto the table. ‘So am I entitled to join the party now?’
‘You bet!’ cried Barney, who hadn’t seen an orange for at least two years.
‘I’ll take these, thank you,’ Olive said, ‘and we will all have some later.’ She knew that otherwise the oranges would be gone in minutes. However, if she split them evenly then everybody would get some.
‘Oh, you are in for a treat, Alice,’ Barney said in a low voice to the little girl who had never seen an orange in her life and tried to bounce one on the floor.
Callum sighed, taking in the cosy atmosphere. ‘I’m afraid this is only a flying visit, as I only have shore leave
for forty-eight hours,’ he admitted, ‘so I’ll need to be back by midnight tomorrow.’
‘Will you make it in time?’ Sally asked, knowing the trains would be full to bursting with servicemen.
‘I’ll catch the first one and then I’ll stand a good chance – but I couldn’t be back in England and not come to see …’
‘Alice!’ Sally quickly cut in, sure that Callum was going to say something he shouldn’t. She stood, and moved towards the kitchen. Callum immediately made to follow her.
‘Of course not – and she’s so pleased with her new doll!’ There was a moment of uneasy silence before Sally said quickly, ‘So did you come straight here from Liverpool?’ Reaching for the lukewarm kettle, she refilled it and put it back on the stove.
‘We took the place of another ship as we were desperate to replenish our stores.’
‘Is the other ship HMS …’
‘Sally, you know I can’t tell you any more, I wish I could,’ Callum said, giving her hand a little squeeze. She quickly pulled away as if she had touched something hot, standing just as soon as the kettle boiled. She had to stay calm, act naturally, and treat Callum like any other friend … Except he wasn’t just any other friend.
‘I know you can’t say much,’ she said, suddenly embarrassed for putting Callum in an awkward situation and was a little relieved when she heard Tilly’s voice coming to the kitchen.
‘I was just telling Dulcie how beautiful her coat is, wasn’t I, Dulcie?’ Tilly blithely exclaimed whilst Sally, grateful for the interruption, gasped in awe at the mink wallaby coat swinging about Dulcie’s neat, if somewhat rounded, figure. Clearly no points were needed for luxury coats like this one.
‘I’ve been sent to get you back into the front room, please,’ Dulcie announced, pirouetting as best she could for maximum effect, before leading them through.
‘I feel quite envious,’ Tilly admitted. Some of the ATS girls had been given such presents after being seen on the arms of American servicemen, who could well afford mole or beaver coney this Christmas, although at seven or eight guineas a pop that would be way out of the price range of most members of the British armed services.
‘David bought it for me, isn’t it fabulous?’ Dulcie gave a little twirl and everybody laughed.
‘Well, come on, everybody, let’s open our presents,’ said Olive when she saw her daughter’s wistful expression.
‘Oh, Mum, that’s lovely,’ Tilly breathed as she opened the newspaper parcel to reveal a beautiful cable-stitched cardigan with short puffed sleeves that her mother had knitted.
‘With everything so scarce it’s about all I could manage this year,’ said Olive, knowing that for some there would be a savings card, containing just two red half-crown stamps as there were so many people to buy for this year. But, she realised, the most precious gift that she could give was that of her time, and she had plenty of that to offer.
‘Oh, Mum, you have done so well this year, as always.’
‘I did have a lot of help,’ Olive said and her smile grew even wider when she opened her present from Tilly, a pair of real leather gloves, which she immediately put on. ‘They are beautiful, and so soft! I’ll wear them for best.’
‘Wear them all the time,’ Tilly exclaimed and they all cheered when Olive said she would but not whilst making high tea. ‘And I’m just going to get it started now.’
Olive looked up to the heavens as she closed the blue and apple-green gingham curtains that were beginning to look a little faded now, after all these years.
‘What are you doing out here, alone in the dark?’ Archie asked as he entered the kitchen. Then, realising he had interrupted a quiet moment he said, ‘I know, it is difficult for all of us at this time of year when we remember the ones who have gone before us. I didn’t mean to intrude, and I am so sorry, Olive.’
And as he turned to go, Olive caught Archie’s sleeve. He stopped, turning towards her, and for a long moment the silver strands of moonlight shone through the blackout and in through the kitchen window, reflecting on their spellbound faces.
‘You didn’t intrude, Archie,’ Olive whispered as the moment of magic was broken by footsteps coming towards the kitchen. ‘Don’t ever think you are intruding.’ Olive yearned for her hammering heart to ease.
‘I thought Ted was going to come and pick you up and take you to his mother’s flat for the evening, Alice?’ Tilly asked a little later.
‘His mum still isn’t well, and I think he’s a bit embarrassed to tell you the truth.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Tilly gave her friend a quizzical look.
‘He said he knew he couldn’t match last year when Drew had all those expensive gifts delivered, so he was under a bit of a black cloud.’
‘He’s a proud man, Agnes,’ Tilly said with a little shake of her head, ‘but surely his sisters are old enough now to know the situation the country, let alone Ted, is in?’
Agnes decided to let her friend into a little secret. ‘I blame Mrs Jackson,’ she whispered. ‘It sounds like she wants to keep her family so close to her that she plays on Ted’s good nature. And sometimes a man can’t see he’s being manipulated, especially by his mother.’ Agnes immediately covered her mouth with her hand as if to stop even more treacherous words from escaping and the two girls laughed. She was so glad that Tilly was home and they could share a good old natter. They were like sisters now and Agnes felt she could always speak her mind to Tilly.
‘You say what you like in here, Agnes.’ Tilly laughed. ‘Nobody in this family is going to judge you and if you feel that Ted’s mother is taking the mick then you must tell him so.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure …’ Agnes offered, feeling she had already said too much.
‘Well, otherwise he’ll keep you dangling for years and have the best of both worlds – a loving girlfriend on one hand, and a pandering mother on the other, both fighting for a crumb of attention – and he’ll have the freedom to do as he pleases.’
‘Oh, Ted’s not like that,’ Agnes protested, jumping to his defence.
‘I’ve heard the girls talking back at camp, and some of them have been through a fine old time, I can tell you …’ Tilly suddenly stopped when she saw tears in Agnes’s eyes. ‘Oh, Agnes, I didn’t mean to upset you, honestly.’
‘You haven’t upset me,’ Agnes said, giving her nose a good blow on one of the two ‘new’ embroidered handkerchiefs that Olive had made for her, ‘but I do feel as if I play second fiddle to Ted’s family … and I know I shouldn’t moan, he’s such a lovely man …’
‘You moan away, girl,’ said Tilly, whose outlook was much broader since she had joined the ATS.
‘It’s just that … I’ve never had anyone to call my own before,’ Agnes sniffed. ‘I think Ted’s mum sees me as a threat.’
‘That woman is the limit, and what does Ted have to say about it all?’
It was obvious to Agnes that Tilly wasn’t impressed by Mrs Jackson, or even Ted, if what she was coming out with now was anything to go by.
‘You could be a valuable part of that family if only he would open his eyes to his mother’s wily ways.’
‘She doesn’t want anybody to come between her and her family,’ Agnes explained.
‘Well, she’s going the right way about it and no mistake! As far as I’m concerned she couldn’t get a better daughter-in-law-to-be, that’s all I can say.’
‘Oh, Tilly, I do wish you didn’t have to go back tomorrow.’
‘Keep this under your hat,’ said Tilly in a low whisper, ‘it’s not final yet, so don’t say anything to Mum, okay?’ Agnes nodded as Tilly turned and checked the door to make sure nobody was coming in. ‘I’m being posted somewhere when I go back, and I have no idea where, but it might be abroad.’ Her face was a light with excitement and Agnes felt her heart sink.
Only a Mother Knows
TWENTY-SIX
‘’Bye, Agnes!’ Tilly was frantically waving, laughing as the train pulled out of the st
ation, wondering when they would ever be together again like that.
‘Come back home soon!’ Olive called, as the train pulled out of the station on a mournful whistle and a billowing cloud of grey-white smoke. Tilly hung out of the window until she could see her mother and Agnes no more and then she took her seat, surrounded by other service personnel seemingly submerged in wretched contemplation. It would be lovely if she got her posting to London, as she had requested, but she suspected she was going overseas … Her thoughts drifted as her eyelids grew heavy. She’d only had a couple of hours’ sleep, after staying up most of the night talking to Agnes. Fancy Agnes having a father, after all this time …
As the train disappeared, Agnes and Olive made their way out of Waterloo station and caught the tram back to Chancery Lane tube station before they said goodbye, and Agnes went to report for duty in the booking office.
‘I’ll see you later, Agnes,’ Olive called. ‘Hopefully I’ll be able to find somewhere that will sell me a loaf of bread for tea.’
‘You’ll be lucky, Olive, but don’t worry, we can do without for a change.’ Agnes gave a little laugh and disappeared into the station, hoping she and Ted would be on the same break later. It being Boxing Day there weren’t that many people about.
Strangely, she hadn’t missed him nearly as much yesterday as she thought she would, realising she didn’t have to mind her Ps and Qs half as much when he wasn’t around, then, feeling that wriggling worm of guilt in the pit of her stomach, she scolded herself for having such treacherous thoughts – Ted thought the world of her.
But Agnes was not feeling so brave about her new style now. Briefly patting her hair, she wondered what Ted would think of her new Liberty Cut? Tilly had cut it into the same semi-shingled style as her own, tapered into the back of her neck whilst the top was left long enough to set in large S-shaped finger waves, and she had made a very good job of it too, Agnes thought, glad she’d had it done.
