by Katie King
Susan, was, it turned out, really a midwife, but she was doing general nursing at the hospital, along with her nurse friend Nina, she told Connie. And she must have spoken about midwifery in a very inspiring way as suddenly all Connie could talk about, when she wasn’t transfixed by stuff to do with the pantomime, which to be fair wasn’t very often, was how wonderful it must be to be a nurse and, specifically, a midwife. And perhaps this was what Connie should do too when it came to her leaving school.
Connie took to spending time with Holly, studying her development and occasionally pointing out to Peggy when Holly was advanced in something (walking) or behind (teething apparently, and also talking), all according to Susan’s intimations as to when children ordinarily did things.
It was hard not to grit her teeth at these times, but Peggy knew too that really she should thank the nurse for managing to enthuse Connie about life after school in a way nobody had managed to previously. And especially so, as the welcome side effect as far as Peggy was concerned, was a little more time to herself to spend on preparations for opening the playgroup, as now Connie virtually snatched Holly away at every opportunity and quite often took her over to see Susan.
Peggy found it tiring though keeping a cheerful countenance every time Connie came back from the hospital with yet more stories of how wonderful Susan was, and Nina too, and she began to long for the time when the pantomime would have been put to bed.
But until then, very quickly Peggy’s cheeks would be aching from the effort of smiling at Connie’s open admiration of the nurse, and usually it wasn’t long before she would have to resort to thinking about the nurse’s fingers, as this was the only weak point that, by all accounts, she possessed.
It was all extremely irritating.
Chapter Thirty-Five
James returned from Coventry, Peggy heard on the grapevine – well, Connie was the source, having been kept up to date on all of James’s movements, apparently, by Susan – and meanwhile the children moved to the rehearsals stage of getting the pantomime ready.
There was a lot of whispering and laughing, which only Roger seemed privy to, and more than once Peggy felt quite tetchy.
She knew she was probably tired.
She’d almost single-handedly refloored the space in the coach house for the playgroup, and she had insulated the walls, stuffing old straw and whatever she could find inside the internal cladding. She’d painted parts of the room, and so now it needed a small reception area building where coats could be hung and that would have the added advantage of being a two-door foyer, in order to stop any little ones sneaking out unattended.
The windows needed reconditioning to provide an opening for a fire exit, and Roger had insisted that some small toilet pans must be installed in the large outside lavatory in the yard and tiny handbasins. And in the run-up to the festive season, Peggy’s repurposing reached a point where nothing further would happen now until into the new year when the work could be completed by professional plumbers and electricians.
Then Peggy would finish the decorating, and finally she could fit out the room with small tables and chairs and so on that she was busy begging, borrowing or stealing from wherever she could, all painted a bright yellow, which was a sunny colour and, fortuitously, came from six huge tins of paint that one of June’s customers had sent over.
Still, as Christmas neared, and also Holly’s first birthday, Peggy felt strangely removed from the world, being simultaneously a bit dreamy yet verging on the irritable.
The children were as good as gold though, and it seemed sweetness and light continued to prevail between the group from Tall Trees and those from Hull, and Peggy had to concede that Roger looked to have lifted a rabbit out of the hat with his bizarre plan for making the children pull together.
One evening the Hull boys were invited over to Tall Trees for a supper of jacket potatoes, and Mabel played the piano as the children practised their carol singing. The plan was them to go out to various parts of Harrogate to sing carols, as a way of raising some money and of publicising the upcoming pantomime.
Peggy and Roger listened from the hall as Mabel bashed away on the piano and the children belted out the carols as best they could.
‘Not necessarily the sounds of heaven,’ said Roger, giving a rueful smile.
‘But much lovelier than the sound of children arguing and egging each other on to fight,’ said Peggy.
‘Agreed,’ said Roger. ‘And thanks be to heaven.’
Peggy laughed. ‘Amen to that.’
Very late on Christmas Eve, Peggy received two telephone calls, neither of which she was expecting.
The first one knocked her for six.
‘Peggy, it’s Bill here. I’ve telephoned to wish Holly a happy birthday, an’ to wish you both a merry Christmas.’
‘Oh, Bill, what a surprise, but you know that Holly has been in bed for a couple of hours now and is asleep.’ Peggy gulped, unsure of what else to say.
It was quite late, and so Peggy wondered if Bill had been in a public house to build up some Dutch courage before speaking to her.
If so, she really didn’t need this when she was already feeling quite emotional at the memories of Holly’s tricky descent into the world twelve months earlier.
‘Don’t worry, Peg,’ he said, as if reading her mind. ‘I expected as much. I wanted to tell you that I’m teetotal now, an’ I have been since that night in Harrogate, although really I never drank that often. I was bad that night though, I admit, shamefully bad.’
‘Really? Goodness. Has not drinking been difficult?’
‘Surprisingly not,’ he said, ‘as I had a lot to think about and I wanted a clear head for that. I started to spend time with little Peter, and that made me think about you an’ me, an’ Holly. Peter’s a grand little lad. An’ knowing him, I understand why you have been so cross with me, and Maureen’s helped me to see that.’
Peggy wanted to say that Holly was a grand little girl too, but she bit those words back.
Instead she said, although her voice sounded tight, ‘I expect Maureen and the baby have liked you being with them.’
‘I think they have. An I’ve thought a lot about both of my children, an’ I think you are right that I must look after them each, with proper money as the least of it.’
‘Good, Bill. I don’t think you’ll regret it.’
There was a silence, but for once, it was a pleasantly companionable one between the pair of them.
At last Bill said, ‘Peg, can you answer me honestly one thing? Do you still want a divorce?’
‘In a perfect world, Bill. I’m sorry.’
‘Well, Maureen and I have had something of a reconciliation as it were, and she has helped me see that if I let you go, then that would be the right thing for me to fix for you.’
Peggy wanted to laugh as she had once made a throwaway joke to Barbara – or was it June? – about perhaps relying on Maureen to persuade Bill of the value of divorce. Now, she wasn’t certain who she’d said it to, but it didn’t matter. Peggy hadn’t expected such a throwaway flippant comment to have ended up having such a ring of truth about it, and perhaps promising her that at some point she could be free of a marriage that was no longer working.
Peggy made sure to keep her voice steady for her reply as she didn’t want to jinx the seriousness of what Bill seemed to be trying to tell her. ‘Are you telling me that you and Maureen are on good romantic terms right now?’
‘I think I am.’ Bill’s tone was cautious.
‘And you are happy about this, and it’s what you want?’
‘I am, and it is.’
‘Then I’m wishing you sincere congratulations, Bill!’ said Peggy, and there was a real warmth in her voice.
Bill gave a chuckle, and Peggy thought it sounded as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck that his wife was letting him off so easily for his peccadillos and roving eye.
Peggy smiled to herself. This was just so Bill, and also utterly pre
dictable of how she would have expected him to behave in this situation.
She thought that she would probably never know a man again as well as she knew Bill, and she had just the tiniest pang, only for an instant, as although she didn’t want him now for herself, it didn’t mean that he and Peggy hadn’t shared a lot in the past, or that they hadn’t once been very close to each other. That had to count for something, surely?
‘And so we, er, I mean I, wondered if you and I should move towards something more formal, with me taking all the blame and admitting everything, and all. And making it as painless for you as possible of course,’ Bill said quickly.
‘Bill, I can’t think of anything I would like better,’ said Peggy.
‘Well then, that’s sorted! Merry Christmas, Peg, and a special kiss for Holly. We can thrash everything out properly in the new year. It will take a while, with the law being what it is, but I think if you and I can work together on this, it will be for the best.’
‘Hold that thought, Bill, hold that thought,’ reiterated Peggy, ‘and wishing Merry Christmas to you, and to Maureen and little Peter too.’
Gently Peggy placed the telephone receiver back into its cradle, and she leant back in Roger’s chair thoughtfully.
She wasn’t there yet with the divorce, but this felt very much as if it was a momentous step in the right direction.
In fact, it felt so good that it was as if Bill had just bestowed on her the best Christmas present in the world.
The telephone rang again, and Peggy picked it up, saying ‘The Rectory’ in the sort of voice that announced she expected the caller to be wanting the services of Roger.
‘Peggy? It’s James.’
‘Oh.’
There was a silence.
‘Are you still there, Peggy? Is it too late for you?’
‘Yes, it’s me, James. I do apologise. And of course it’s not too late. I was just thinking about something else for a moment, and so you caught me on the hop rather. Where are you?’
‘I’ve just got back to Harrogate, and I realise it’s a year to the day since I delivered Holly, and so I wanted to wish you both all festive tidings, and to say a happy birthday that you can pass on to Holly.’
‘As she was born on the pip of midnight, we’re treating tomorrow as her birthday, as then we can roll her birthday celebration into Christmas Day teatime, not that she’ll let us do this when she is a bit bigger, I don’t doubt, as she’ll want two days of festivities. Do join us if you can tomorrow for Christmas tea.’
‘I’d love to, but I’m working all tomorrow and in fact right up until the pantomime.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Peggy, with her heart lurching a little downwards. ‘But how thoughtful of you to telephone to pass on your greetings.’
The grandfather clock on the other side of the room gave its half past chime, and it made Peggy start.
She added, ‘Please don’t think me rude, James, but I promised Roger I’d escort the children to midnight Mass, and I’ve got to get Holly into her outdoor clothes, and so I must go. Have a good Christmas, James. And I do appreciate you telephoning.’
‘Merry Christmas, Peggy.’
Chapter Thirty-Six
Christmas Day and Holly’s birthday tea, and then Boxing Day passed in the way that one would expect, and fortunately in a much less dramatic way than when Peggy and Holly’s lives had both hung in the balance the same time the previous year, although now Peggy realised that actually she could remember very little from that time, other than how resourceful the children had been when she needed help, and how kind James’s eyes had looked when she saw him staring down at her as she lay in the hospital bed and clasped her new-born babe to her breast.
A grateful parishioner with a smallholding had dropped off two chickens and lots of potatoes and three cabbages, so it meant that there was a scrumptious roast for everyone on Christmas Day, and then hearty chicken soup the next day, all without sacrificing any of the hens that lived at Tall Trees. The children were sworn to secrecy about the gift of the chickens outside of the ration, but they were so delicious that they would definitely keep schtum in case no parishioners ever gifted them again if word were to come to the attention of the authorities.
As to the deliciousness of Peggy and Holly’s attempt at making mince pies, which turned out very disappointingly as the pastry was hard and the home-made filling peculiar, maybe the least said about that the better.
Still, Peggy didn’t mind she had been shown up as the mediocre cook she was. Bill’s telephone call put her into a permanently good mood for the whole of the festive period, helped by Jerry deciding that hostilities could be ceased for a little while in London, according to Barbara and Ted, and so the constant concern about how they were getting on down in the Smoke could be put aside for a short while.
Barbara and Ted telephoned the twins from the Jolly, full of Christmas cheer.
And later Jessie and Connie whispered to Peggy that the florins that Ted had given them when they had been sitting with him on the hill in Greenwich Park were going to be donated to the fund for the wounded servicemen at James’s hospital that the ticket money from the panto was going to go towards.
‘Are you sure?’ said a surprised Peggy. ‘I think Daddy meant you both to have that money just to spend on something that you wanted.’
‘I know,’ said Jessie.
‘But how could we enjoy it when there are people who are much more deserving than us?’ added Connie.
Peggy looked at them both. They looked bigger and much more grown-up than the children who had arrived in Harrogate. The last year had seen them change from young children towards a version of themselves that was wiser, more thoughtful and mature.
‘Well,’ said Peggy, ‘as long as you remember that nobody would think the worse of you if you did even now decide to spend it all on yourselves, but if it really is your decision to donate the money to make a wounded soldier have a bit of cheer in his life, then I don’t there’d be anyone prouder in London than your father.’
The twins gave a shy smile, and then Peggy added, ‘And your mother too, of course; we mustn’t forget Barbara!’
Holly looked wide-eyed at everything but was very good-natured throughout the festivities, although blowing out the single tiny candle on her birthday cake proved a bit too much for her as she couldn’t work out the difference between blowing and sucking. Not that it mattered a jot.
And she was very patient when Peggy spent an age posing her by the fir tree draped with old but still perfectly serviceable tinsel so that she could take a photograph to send to Bill. Holly looked angelic as she sat beside the tree, staring up at the shiny tinsel with such an innocent look on her face that it was hard to believe that she would ever cry or throw a tantrum.
The camera and a roll of precious film was the present to Peggy from everyone at Tall Trees, masterminded of course by Mabel and Roger.
Peggy had been so touched when she saw it that she had been unable to say anything for quite some while. She thought it one of the nicest and most thoughtful presents she was lucky enough to ever have been given.
‘You wait, Peggy, next year little ’Olly will find Christmas so exciting, you’ll be run off yer feet, so make t’ most o’ this one,’ said Mabel, as Peggy leapt forward once more to arrange a fold of Holly’s skirt a bit more becomingly before she pressed the button to take the photo.
‘In that case Roger and you had better hope that the war is over by then, and we’re all back in Bermondsey so that you don’t have to see Holly wrecking such a lovely tree,’ said Peggy, darting back to the camera once more and then again to Holly, still without pressing the button.
‘Well, at this rate you’re still going t’ be trying t’ take t’ same photograph an’ so you’ll all still be ’ere,’ said Mabel with a chuckle.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The children were up early on December the twenty-ninth. Sleeping Beauty would have its premiere in a large empty
ward at the hospital at two o’clock, with the second performance at the same time on the thirtieth.
The following week, the production would move to the church hall, but apparently the children had been so good at drumming up an audience that those later two performances were already sold out, and James had allowed the audience overspill of the general public to join the performances at the hospital, which were already going to be swelled by all the elderly actors and actresses from the home who were attending to show their support for the children’s brave endeavour.
Best of all, the headmaster had bumped into Peggy when they were both doing their Christmas shopping, and he had said that he’d decided the pantomime would also have a special performance at the school once the spring term began and everyone had returned to school in January.
By nine o’clock the children had all had their breakfast and had left for the hospital, with their lunches in brown paper bags after exacting promises from Peggy and Mabel that neither of the women were to go out into the back yard.
The children had been uncharacteristically quiet as they ate breakfast, and so Peggy thought the nerves might be kicking in. She knew there had been a dress rehearsal the day before, but the children had been hard to draw out on the topic when she’d asked about it, saying that they wanted it to be a surprise.
What the children didn’t know, but Peggy was excited by as she couldn’t wait to see the twins’ faces, was that Barbara and Ted were on the way up to Harrogate on the first train, and would soon be enjoying a beverage or two beside a log fire in a tavern in the town.
It had been arranged with James that they would sneak into the performance once the lights were lowered, so that Jessie and Connie would have a bombshell of a surprise at seeing their parents there once the hour-long performance had ended.
Roger drove Mabel, Peggy and Holly over to the hospital at one-thirty, as it was cold and Peggy had been worried about Holly becoming fractious during the show if she got chilly on the way there while being wheeled over in the pushchair, especially as Holly would make a fuss about wanting to walk, which would really try Peggy’s patience, and then Holly would grizzle when she became tired after a few yards.
