‘To learn your lessons of course, young man,’ Edith responded brightly as Cook looked on with an indulgent smile on her face.
‘I can already read an’ write,’ he objected sulkily, but Edith didn’t waver.
‘So, you can but there’s still a lot more to learn. Oh … and don’t forget to wear your name tags an’ take your gas masks.
Bobby frowned as she tied the name tag she had made for him about his neck and tucked it down underneath his shirt before doing the same to Peggy. She then lifted the two little boxes she had prepared for their lunch and after handing them one each she nodded at George who was waiting to take them to school in the horse and trap. That, at least, Bobby was pleased about; he loved the trap and Edith was sure he would have driven around in it all day had he been able to.
‘Come on then,’ George said amiably. ‘Say ta-ra to Cook an’ Edith. Yer don’t want to be late on yer first day now, do yer?’
Edith quickly planted a kiss on each cheek, much to Bobby’s disgust, then he reluctantly followed George from the kitchen, leaving Edith with tears in her eyes.
‘Eeh, I hope they’ll be all right,’ she commented to the cook and the rosy-cheeked woman grinned.
‘Now why ever wouldn’t they be? They’ll be meetin’ some o’ their mates from home there no doubt, an’ anyway they’ll be back afore yer know it.’
‘I dare say you’re right,’ Edith said sadly as she moved to the window to get a last glimpse of them, then turning about she tried to concentrate on her chores and put the children from her mind.
‘How did they go in?’ she asked George the second he arrived back.
George lifted his cap to scratch his wiry head and grinned. ‘Right as ninepence. Most o’ the children that have been evacuated from London were there this mornin’ from what I could see of it in the playground, so happen they’ll meet up wi’ some of their mates.’
Cissie who had just arrived nodded in agreement. ‘O’ course they will so stop frettin’, Edith. They’ll both be right as rain, you’ll see.’ She collected the lavender polish and went into the hallway to begin polishing the mahogany bannister rails as George went to stable the horse.
She glanced up as the post came through the door and picking it up, she noticed an official-looking envelope at the top of the pile. Guessing instantly what it was, she took it through to the kitchen.
‘This is fer you,’ she told Giles with a catch in her voice. He had just popped in for a tea break and he slit the envelope and read what was inside as they all looked on.
‘I’ve passed my exams and I’ve to report to a training centre in Wiltshire next Wednesday,’ he told them.
The mood in the kitchen became solemn. None of them had had any doubt that he would pass the exams with flying colours. During the past few weeks, other than taking the children in, the war had not directly affected them but now it suddenly seemed very real.
Cook took a large white handkerchief from her apron pocket and noisily blew her nose just as Sunday came in.
‘I popped over to see how the children went into school on their first …’ Noticing the strained faces, she looked from one to the other of them before asking, ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Not at all.’ It was Giles who broke the silence that had settled in the room. ‘I’ve been accepted into the RAF and have just received the date to start my training. I shall be leaving early next Wednesday.’
‘Oh … I see.’ Like the others Sunday was deflated at the thought of what lay ahead of him, but she plastered a smile onto her face. ‘Well at least you can make your plans now,’ she said, managing to keep her voice cheerful. ‘And I’m sure George will do a sterling job of looking after the horses till this is all over.’
‘Huh! And I wonder how long that will be,’ Cissie said pessimistically.
‘I’m afraid that’s a question none of us can answer,’ Sunday sighed. ‘But we won the last war and I’m sure with fine young men like Giles fighting for us we shall do the same this time.’
‘Of course, we will,’ Cook said. ‘And in the meantime, till you leave I intend to cook you all your favourites.’
‘That sounds good to me.’ Giles quickly drank the rest of his tea and slid from his chair. ‘But now if you’ll excuse me, I’d best go and break the news to Grandad.’
The women stood silently, each of them thinking the same: ‘Dear God, keep him safe!’
Later that afternoon, Edith went to collect the children from school, insisting that the walk would do them all good. She was amongst the first there, standing at the school railings waiting for the bell to ring.
Without even realising it there was a broad smile on her face. She had missed them terribly and the day had seemed endless, but the smile slipped away the second they walked out of the school and she clapped eyes on them. As usual Peggy was gripping tightly to her brother’s hand and she looked much as she had that morning. But the same couldn’t be said for Bobby for he looked as if he too had been in the war. His tie was skew-whiff, there was a hole in the knee of his brand-new trousers and he had the beginnings of a black eye forming.
A teacher was walking with them and, once they reached Edith, she drew her to one side to tell her, ‘I’m afraid there was a small altercation in the playground this afternoon between Bobby and a child from the same area of London as him.’
Bobby scowled at her as he scuffed at the ground with the toe of his shoe.
‘I see, an’ has this boy been dealt with?’ Edith asked indignantly.
‘I have spoken to the family he is staying with,’ the teacher assured her. ‘And hopefully this will be an end to it. Isn’t that so, Bobby?’
He sniffed. ‘All depends on wevver or not he says bad fings about me ma again,’ he shot back defensively.
The teacher shook her head and after a nod at Edith she strode away as Edith turned the children towards home. ‘So, who’s goin’ to tell me what’s gone on then?’
‘Eddie Burrows called our ma a whore! What’s a whore, Aunty Edith?’ Peggy asked innocently as colour bled into Edith’s cheeks.
‘It’s a … er …’ For one of the very rare times in her life Edith was lost for words. ‘Look, let’s get home an’ have a look at that eye, shall we? It looks nasty.’
‘This is nowt to what Eddie looks like,’ Bobby growled smugly. ‘I made his nose bleed an’ he squealed like a stuck pig. I bet he won’t call me ma that again.’
Once more, Edith didn’t know what to say, so taking Peggy’s hand she marched them along in silence, her lips set in a grim line.
An hour later after milk and biscuits and having his eye tended to with a lump of raw liver, which Cook swore would take the swelling down, the children pottered off to find Giles, while Edith sat down in the kitchen to repair Bobby’s trousers.
‘I can’t believe I’m having to patch them after the first time he’s worn them,’ she told Cook regretfully. ‘An’ he looked so smart when he set off fer school this mornin’.’
‘Aye, well that’s lads fer yer,’ Cook replied. ‘My two were just the same at that age; always into scraps, they were. But what was the fight about?’
‘It seems that one of the evacuees that lived near Bobby called his ma a whore.’
‘Really?’ Cook’s eyes stretched wide. ‘An’ from bits you’ve picked up from the children there could happen to be some truth in it, eh?’
Edith shrugged. ‘There could be,’ she admitted. ‘And I have to say that I’m a bit disappointed she hasn’t bothered writin’ to ’em again. You’d think she’d want to know how they were gettin’ on, wouldn’t you?’
‘If their dad is as bad as he sounds it could be that she’s glad they’re out o’ the way somewhere safe.’ Cook shook her head. ‘Whatever the reason, I’ve caught Bobby lookin’ for the postman every mornin’, poor little tyke. I’ve noticed he rarely mentions his dad but to hear him you’d think his ma wore a halo.’
She got on with what she was doing then, prepa
ring one of Giles’s favourites – steak and ale pie. After all, she reasoned, he wouldn’t be there for her to spoil for much longer and the thought made tears sting at the back of her eyes.
At that moment Livvy was just entering the stable where she found Giles talking to the children.
‘Giles is goin’ to go an’ start his trainin’ next Wednesday,’ Bobby informed her excitedly. Giles was fast becoming his hero.
‘Is he now?’ Livvy suddenly felt as if someone had thumped her in the stomach, although her voice was level as she went on, ‘I bet you wish you could go with him and learn to fly aeroplanes too, don’t you, Bobby?’
‘Not ’alf!’ Bobby’s eyes took on a dreamy look, until Peggy grasped his hand and dragged him off towards the orchard, leaving the two young adults alone.
‘So … you’ll soon be off then?’
Giles nodded as Livvy tried to think of something appropriate to say. What could you say to someone who was prepared to risk his life for his king and country?
‘I, er … hope the training goes well,’ she muttered eventually.
‘Thank you.’ His deep-blue eyes were staring into hers and she felt her cheeks begin to burn before she quickly turned away.
‘Right, I’d best get on then.’ She almost tripped over her own feet in her haste to put some distance between them and all the while he watched her, with an amused little smile on his face, although he said not a single word.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Kathy enquired, when Livvy spilled into the kitchen shortly after with a sombre look on her face.
‘Nothing!’ Livvy bent to stroke Daisy’s head and the little girl took her attention from the brightly coloured wooden bricks she was happily playing with to glance up and give her a toothy smile. ‘Giles just told me he’ll be leaving to start his training soon.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘See what?’ Livvy said defensively. ‘It’s no skin off my nose what he does, is it?’ And with that she stormed away upstairs, leaving Kathy with a thoughtful expression on her face as she finished changing Thomas’s trousers. He was almost potty-trained now but still had the odd accident.
When she had finished, he toddled off to sit beside his sister and she smiled sadly. She could quite understand Livvy’s concerns about Giles going away. Could Livvy have known it she was worried about the welfare of two men: Ben and David. But at least she knew exactly what David was doing. She had no idea at all where was Ben was. She had still not heard so much as a word from him since the day he had left. Her only comfort was in knowing that it was the young men who were enlisting at present. Surely Ben would be too old now for active service? She looked at her children. They were her whole world and she had taken to being a mother like a duck to water. In fact, she couldn’t imagine her life without the twins now and it hurt to know that Ben was missing so much. But all she could do was pray that eventually his conscience would get the better of him and he would come home. With a sigh she went to put the dirty nappy into the soak bucket. Somehow, they were all just going to have to get on with things as best they could.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Liverpool Docks, late November 1939
As the noise from the street outside his bedroom window grew louder, Ben groaned and pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to shut it out. His head was throbbing, and his mouth felt like the bottom of a bird cage, as he tried to lose himself in sleep again. But it was no good. The noise was growing louder as the workers tramped towards the docks, so he dragged himself to the edge of the bed and peered at the thin curtains through narrowed eyes. For a moment he felt disorientated, but then gradually the night before began to come back to him, and he groaned again. He had no idea how many pints of beer he must have drunk – he’d lost count after ten – but he was certainly paying for it now. Glancing down, he saw that he was still fully dressed, and shame coursed through him. He’d done well to get back to his room, he supposed, considering the state he must have been in. He could remember going into the Dog and Duck and ordering a beer then getting into conversation with some chaps in army uniform. After that everything was blurry.
Suddenly something occurred to him and he reached down to feel for his wallet, which had been in the back pocket of his trousers. It was still there but a quick examination when he opened it revealed that it was empty. There had been twenty pounds in there at the beginning of the night and now every penny was gone. Whether he had spent it, or it had been stolen he had no idea, but he knew that he couldn’t go on like this. Thankfully the majority of the money he had swindled from his stepmother was safely locked away in the bank but even so he was aware that it wouldn’t last long if he went on the way he was.
A sharp rap at the door had his hands rising to his head, which felt as if it was about to burst, as the rasping voice of his landlady sailed through the door. ‘Mr Brannin’. Yer breakfast is ready. I ain’t keepin’ it warm so if yer want it yer to come down right now!’
He gulped. Just the thought of food made his stomach revolt. ‘Thanks, Mrs Jennings. I’ll give breakfast a miss this morning, if you don’t mind.’
‘Huh! Yer could have told me last night. All that good food goin’ to waste.’
The woman’s voice grew quieter as she thumped off down the stairs and Ben gave a wry smile. Good food indeed! Mrs Jennings’s breakfasts consisted of a rasher of bacon swimming with grease, an overcooked sausage and an egg that was so hard he might easily have broken his knife on it. Still, he supposed for the rent he paid for his room he shouldn’t really expect a lot more. Glancing about, he took in the gloomy surroundings. An old wardrobe stood against one wall with a chest of drawers that had seen better days standing beside it. There was an old washstand with a cracked jug and bowl standing on it and to the side of that a chair with a very wonky leg. That was it apart from the bed, which again had seen better days. The mattress was so hard he sometimes felt as if he had slept on a door – when he did manage to sleep that was.
The streets beyond the warehouses that led to the docks were full of such lodging houses. Cheap and cheerful, his landlady had told him, but he hadn’t managed to find anything cheerful about the place as yet. Most of them were inhabited by sailors who came and went on the ships that docked there. Dotted in amongst the lodging houses were a fair number of brothels and Ben had taken full advantage of them too. It was a far cry from the smart hotels he had stayed in when he first left Treetops. Strangely the novelty of staying in such places and being waited on hand and foot had soon worn off and Mrs Jennings’s lodging house was quite good enough for him now. He had soon discovered that you could be just as lonely in a palace as you could in a slum.
He supposed to some it must appear that he had the world at his feet. He had money in the bank, and he was carefree and single and able to come and go whenever he pleased, so why, he wondered, was his new lifestyle giving him no joy? At the most unlikely times he would find himself thinking of Treetops and the life he had led there, and he would become maudlin. He missed his comfortable bedroom, the horses, and although he denied it to himself, even the people. And then there was the guilt. For most of the time he could convince himself that Sunday had deserved all she had got – she had never loved him as she did Kathy and Livvy. But then a little voice would whisper, ‘But she did! You know she did.’ And the only way he could quieten the voice was to drown himself in drink. Not forgetting Kathy! Kathy, the thought of her made him bow his head. She had told him she loved him, and he had taken full advantage of the fact just to get back at Sunday. He had always known how horrified Sunday would be if ever she found out about their relationship, which she undoubtedly would have done by now. There was nothing he could have done that would hurt her more. Kathy had been just a young innocent girl with a crush on a much older man. He was old enough to be her father and they had been brought up in the same family. He had grown up with Kathy’s mother, for God’s sake! Sunday would look upon their affair as almost incestuous and he supposed he couldn’
t blame her.
His thoughts raced back across his life and he realised suddenly with a little shock that the only time he had been truly happy was when he was married to Maggie, the love of his life. His thoughts turned to his birth mother, who had abandoned him on the steps of the workhouse when he was a newborn. He’d never even met her. Did she not love him, then? Is that why she abandoned him? Then Sunday and Tom had adopted him and he could still see the look of shock on his father’s face as he showed him the letter his mother had sent him. But his father had seemed happy to know he had a natural child. It was Sunday who had found it difficult to come to terms with it. His bitterness had begun then, even though his father and Sunday tried to make things up to him.
After he’d returned home from the war with his scars, there had been times when he had almost dared to let himself believe that Sunday truly loved him again. But then the girls had come along, and it felt as though they replaced him in her affections, and he was once again left out. After all, how could she ever love him as much as she did her own daughter? And as for Kathy, well, Kitty had always been everyone’s favourite – even his for a time – so it stood to reason that Kitty’s daughter would take that special place in Sunday’s heart.
If it hadn’t been for Maggie, he would have felt pushed aside. But Maggie had loved him and married him, and for the first time in his life he had discovered what it was to feel truly happy. He had thought things couldn’t get any better, but they had when she’d informed him that he was going to be a father. How he had looked forward to holding his child, his very own flesh and blood, in his arms, and to having his very own little family. But even that dream had been snatched away when both Maggie and his son had died in childbirth.
For years he had been haunted by the sight of his love lying pale and serene in her coffin with his tiny son nestled in her arms against her. Sometimes when he remembered, the pain was so intense that he was sure it would kill him. And then Kathy had declared her feelings for him, and he had seen a way to wreak revenge on everyone for the hurt he had suffered. But what was done was done now, there could be no going back to undo it, and he could only hope that Kathy would go on to meet a nice young man her own age.
Time to Say Goodbye Page 16
