by Ellie Dean
She carefully made her way along a pavement slick with dirty snow and slush, her mind working over everything she had to do before she could sit down with a cigarette and a cup of tea. With Sylvia and Louise leaving there would be spare beds again, and she supposed she should tell the Welfare people. The Town Hall was still packed with the homeless and, although Peggy felt terribly sorry for them, she actually just wanted a bit of peace for a while amongst people she knew and loved. It was an effort to make strangers welcome and attend to the problems they seemed to bring with them.
Perhaps it was her age slowing her down – after all, she would be forty-four in three weeks’ time, and most women her age were beginning to take things easy. Not much chance of that, she thought crossly, not with a houseful and Louise getting worse by the day as the snow kept her in Cliffehaven. She’d be glad to see the back of her.
At least Rita seemed happy enough to go with Louise now she knew her job was safe. Of course Louise still wouldn’t accept that Rita would be returning to Cliffehaven, but Rita was proving to be much tougher than she’d thought, and now she knew she had Peggy’s support, she would deal with Louise – Peggy was sure of it.
She tramped up the front steps, knocked the snow from her boots and went inside, to be greeted by the sound of laughter in her kitchen. She unwound her scarf, took off her gloves and boots and hung her coat on the newel post. It seemed that everyone was home, and the kitchen was so crammed she could barely find somewhere to sit. Sylvia was holding court, pouring champagne, chattering away nineteen to the dozen to Fran and Suzy.
‘Rosie managed to find a few bottles at the back of her cellar,’ muttered Ron. ‘Sylvia wanted to throw a bit of a party before she left.’
Peggy took a glass and lit a cigarette. She realised that nothing much would get done for a while, so she relaxed and watched the others. The five girls were chattering and giggling, Ron was looking stoic and Jim was flirting with a delighted Mrs Finch, who clearly couldn’t hear a word he was saying but was enjoying the attention anyway.
Louise was looking sullen as usual, refusing the champagne and sipping a glass of water instead. She still hadn’t forgiven Sylvia for refusing to give her and Rita a lift to Salisbury where they could have caught a train into Wales. She simply couldn’t – or wouldn’t – understand that with Christopher taking up the entire back seat, there wasn’t room for passengers.
Beneath the hubbub of noise, Peggy turned to Ron. ‘I understand Tommy Findlay’s been sniffing around again,’ she murmured.
‘He was,’ he said round the stem of his pipe, ‘but there’s been no sign of him since Christmas.’ He eyed her through the pipe-smoke. ‘Do you have any idea why Rosie puts up with him?’
‘She has her reasons,’ Peggy replied. ‘It’s not up to me to tell you what they are.’
‘He’s not some old flame, is he? Or the missing husband? Braithwaite’s her maiden name, you know.’
She patted his arm as she nodded. ‘Don’t worry, Ron, she’s still your girl.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘I wish I could be certain of that,’ he said gruffly.
‘Then do something about it,’ she said. ‘Tell her how you feel and put things on a firmer basis. You’ll find she’ll be quite open to the suggestion.’ She grinned at him. ‘Trust me, Ron. I know about these things.’
He grinned back. ‘Aye. I suppose you do.’
‘Can I have everyone’s attention?’ called Sylvia. She smiled as the babble died and all eyes turned to her. ‘I would just like to say thank you for giving me such a loving and happy home for my short stay here. Ron, I owe you my son’s life and my eternal gratitude. Jim, you’ve been a constant source of entertainment, good food and black-market petrol.’
Everyone laughed, and she turned to Mrs Finch. ‘Thank you, Cordelia, for being such a lovely companion, and to all you girls for providing much-needed laughter and fun.’ Her smile faltered as she looked at Peggy. ‘Peggy, we haven’t known each other long, but I think of you as a good friend. Please stay in touch, and perhaps after this war is over, we can pick up where we’ve left off.’
Peggy nodded, saw that Sylvia was close to tears and knew that there would be no protracted goodbyes. She hated them too and understood.
Sylvia raised her glass. ‘To Beach View Boarding House and all who are lucky enough to live here.’
Peggy met Sylvia’s gaze as she raised her own glass. She would miss her, certainly, but they would stay in touch and meet again.
Sylvia finished her glass of champagne and with a smile to everyone, made her way through the crush and into the hall. Her cases were already stowed on the passenger seat, the petrol cans and food for the journey safe in the boot of the Rolls-Royce. All that was left for her to do now was leave.
She slowly drew on the mink coat and gloves, the chatter from the kitchen drifting out to her. Peggy had seen her slip away – had understood that she hated long goodbyes and wanted to go quietly and without fuss. Dear Peggy, what a good friend she’d been.
Smoothing back her fair hair and adjusting her hat, she caught her reflection in the mirror and gave a wry smile. Her life might have been very different if she’d grown up in a warm and loving family like this, with a mother like Peggy. It had been her dream as a child, and now, through the vagaries of fate, she’d had the chance to experience it for a while. The memories of Beach View and the Reilly family would remain with her for the rest of her life.
She quietly opened the front door and slowly went down the freshly salted steps to the Rolls-Royce. Christopher was waiting for her at the hospital, James had promised to come home for a few days next week and her other two sons were due for leave within the next month. Her own precious family needed her now, and the enrichment of her few weeks in Cliffehaven would carry her through whatever lay ahead in her strange and rather wonderful life.
Sylvia took a deep, enlivening breath of the cold sea air. The sun was brilliant on what remained of the snow, a good omen for the long journey – a bright, shining hope for the future.
The next day dawned just as brightly, and Rita was as eager as Louise to begin their long journey to Wales. It would be lovely to see Tino and Roberto and get Louise finally settled – but the best part would be coming home again to Cliffehaven and Peggy.
It was strange how her priorities had changed over the past weeks – the dream of being in the WAAFs fading as the new and exciting job at the fire station offered all she’d needed. Perhaps Louise had been right all along, she thought wryly, for she had found everything she’d yearned for, right here in Beach View.
Rita had spent the previous evening with Cissy, who left early that morning for the airbase, her arm finally out of plaster. She’d said goodbye to Fran and Suzy as they rushed off for their early shift at the hospital, and tried not to lose her patience with Louise as she fussed and dithered and raced about like a headless chicken.
Now it was time to leave, and although she knew she’d be coming back soon, she still felt rather tearful as Jim and Ron hugged her and Mrs Finch gave her a kiss. ‘Take care, Anne,’ she said, giving her a gentle hug, ‘and give my best to Martin.’
‘You take care too, Rita,’ Anne replied, ‘and we’ll see you soon.’
‘She’s staying with me,’ said Louise, glancing yet again at the clock. ‘Come on, Rita, or we’ll miss the trolley.’
Rita turned to Peggy. ‘I’ll be back,’ she murmured as they hugged. ‘Keep a space for me.’
‘You’ll have June’s old room,’ Peggy replied, ‘and I’ll make sure it’s all ready and waiting for you, don’t you fret.’
‘Waste your time all you want,’ said Louise. She eyed Peggy with barely disguised triumph. ‘Rita won’t be back.’ She didn’t bother to say goodbye as she marched into the hall and picked up the heavy bag that was straining with all the things she’d bought for Roberto and Tino as well as her own precious belongings.
Rita kissed Peggy and followed Louise into the hall. Her own bag was ve
ry light, for she didn’t need much for such a short time away. As Louise opened the door and hurried down the steps, Rita shot Peggy a smile that held a world of love, and the promise to return as soon as she could.
The journey seemed endless as they had to change trains, catch buses and wait for hours on lonely platforms for their connections. Louise never stopped complaining. She muttered her ill-will over Lady Sylvia’s selfishness, moaned about the delays, the draughts in the carriages, the terrible food at the stations, the lack of decent facilities, the crush, the noise and the inconveniences she had to bear.
Rita hadn’t listened to half of it, preferring to read the magazines Cissy had given her, or to look out of the window or watch the other people in their carriage. She let her mind drift to how she would feel on seeing Roberto after all this time. Would the experiences he’d had have changed him? Her own experiences had changed her, that was a fact, and she hoped with all her heart that he didn’t expect anything more from her than sisterly kinship.
They finally arrived at the tiny station in Wales and clambered down onto the platform. It was a neat, pretty place, with a small cottage next to the signal box, a vegetable garden beside the embankment and fresh paint on the doors and window frames.
Louise dumped her bag and peered through the clouds of smoke as the train chuffed away. ‘They should be here,’ she said fretfully. ‘Where are they? They knew what time we were to arrive.’
‘Mamma! Rita!’
‘Roberto! Tino!’
The four of them clung to one another, exchanging kisses and hugs, drinking in the sight of their beloved faces, rejoicing in their reunion.
‘It’s wonderful to see you again, Rita,’ said Roberto as Louise and Tino continued to embrace. ‘You look very well, considering what you’ve been through.’
Rita grinned up at him in delight. ‘So do you – but what’s with that moustache?’
He thumbed it bashfully. ‘Thought I’d give it a go,’ he muttered.
‘It makes you look very distinguished,’ she replied, trying her best not to laugh. It actually looked like a caterpillar crawling over his top lip, but she would never say so. She glanced at Tino, who was lovingly kissing away Louise’s tears. ‘Papa’s lost weight,’ she said quietly. ‘Are you sure he’s fully recovered?’
‘Fitter than ever now he has so much physical work to do around the farm,’ said Roberto, reaching for her bag. ‘Come on, we’ve arranged for you to stay in the village. They’re a nice old couple and have plenty of room, and you’ll find there are other wives and their families close by, so you won’t get lonely.’
Rita caught his arm. ‘I can’t stay long, Roberto,’ she warned.
He looked crestfallen. ‘But I thought you and Mamma were coming to live here?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but as I explained in my letter, I have a home with Peggy Reilly and a good job at the fire station. I’ll be going back on the next train the day after tomorrow.’
‘I’ve had no such letter, Rita.’ He glanced across at his weeping mother. ‘Mamma will take a bit of time to settle in – you know how she dislikes change – and we can only visit on our time off and in the evenings.’ He turned back to her, his dark eyes concerned. ‘How does she feel about you going back?’
‘She’s not happy about it,’ Rita said truthfully, ‘but she’ll be fine once she settles in, and with you and Papa, and the other families nearby, she won’t miss me at all.’
He grinned at her and linked arms. ‘So, tell me all about this job,’ he said. ‘I thought you wanted to go into the WAAFs?’
The elderly couple was as delightful as their little thatched cottage which stood within a flourishing vegetable garden on the edge of the small village. Their bedrooms were neat and pretty with chintz curtains and bedspreads, the sitting room and kitchen warm from the blazing fire in the inglenook and the large range.
Rita unpacked her toothbrush, flannel and nightdress, leaving everything else in the bag. She ambled into the other room as Louise chattered away happily to Tino, who was sitting on the bed. Louise hung up her clothes in the wardrobe and put the Madonna and child statuette in pride of place on the chest of drawers under the window. ‘There,’ she said softly. ‘Now it is truly home.’
Rita looked round the room as Louise continued to settle in. There was a large double bed in here, and the view from the window looked over miles of fields to the distant craggy mountains. It might be isolated, but it was warm and cosy, and Rita could see that Louise was already feeling quite at home now she had Tino and Roberto close by.
Within the hour they had met the families of the other Italian men who’d been sent down to this remote part of the country for the duration. There were five wives, who had numerous small children, as well as several older girls who were out working for the land army on the many surrounding farms.
A large welcoming tea had been arranged in the church hall, and as Louise clung lovingly to Tino while he introduced everyone, Rita could see she was beginning to be her old self again. She would be happy here, for these women could speak Italian, and understood what she’d been going through.
As night fell, the tea was cleared away and steaming bowls of home-made pasta and freshly baked bread replaced the sandwiches and cakes. The locals drifted in along with the Italian husbands and sons from their farm labours. It was quite a large community, but the locals seemed to enjoy this influx and happily joined in, bringing their own Welsh additions to the table.
The noise rose as the numbers increased, the familiar and musical sound of Italian blending with the equally tuneful Welsh, and filling the hall. Someone began to play an accordion, and this was soon joined by a couple of violins, a guitar and the out-of-tune piano that stood in the corner of the hall. Chairs were pushed back and people began to dance.
Tino managed to escape Louise’s clutches for a few minutes while she became involved in helping to clear the tables. He took Rita in his warm embrace and kissed the top of her head. ‘Thank you for looking after Mamma so well, Rita,’ he murmured. ‘I know it can’t have been easy.’
‘She was lost without you and Roberto,’ she replied simply.
‘My Louise needs much care,’ he murmured. ‘She is not strong.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Roberto tells me you will not be staying.’
She shook her head and explained everything.
‘It is good you have plans,’ he said, his eyes brimming. ‘Of course we shall miss you, but to learn about life, one must live it – and my poor Louise never really understood that.’ He hugged her again. ‘I wish you all the luck in the world, my little Rita, and when you get the time, please write to us. We don’t want to lose you completely.’
‘You’ll always be my Papa Tino,’ she murmured.
Louise was hurrying towards them. ‘Just remember we love you,’ he said, ‘and don’t worry, I will help Louise understand your reasons for leaving.’ Louise claimed his attention, and with a wink and a smile to Rita, Tino allowed her to steer him into the dance.
Rita had danced with Roberto and was now happily sitting this one out so she could watch Tino and Louise move round the floor. Louise had shed her cares, the years dropping away, making her seem young again as she gazed into Tino’s adoring eyes. Louise had to be the most demanding and difficult person Rita had ever dealt with, but with Tino she was very different. Theirs was a wonderful love story, and Rita could only hope that one day she would find a husband who would look at her that way as they grew old together.
Her attention was snatched from the dancers as several young women made a dramatic entrance into the hall. They’d clearly prepared for the party, dressed in lovely frocks, with their hair all shining and their make-up freshly applied. Farm work and a plentiful supply of meat, eggs and milk obviously agreed with them, for they were glowing with health and energy as they greeted their families and joined in the fun.
Rita was about to make a comment to Roberto when he moved from her side and hurried acr
oss the room. The girl whose hand he claimed was the prettiest of them all, with dark, feline eyes, olive skin and long hair as black as jet.
As Rita watched, the girl gave Roberto a radiant smile and moved into his arms with the ease of familiarity. Roberto was clearly entranced as they moved to the music, his gaze capturing her, his expression rapt. Rita gave a sigh of deep pleasure. Roberto was in love – which probably explained the ridiculous moustache and smart new haircut. How lovely.
The time had flown by and now it was early morning on her last day. Rita stretched and yawned, blissfully happy not to have to share a bedroom with Louise and eagerly looking forward to going home to Cliffehaven. She had said goodbye to Tino the night before, and he’d again given her his blessing and told her not to worry – Louise now fully understood why she had to leave, and was quite happy about it.
Rita rolled onto her side and thought over this short time in Wales. The Italian community had been warm and welcoming, and Rita had soon learned that they congregated every night to share their evening meal and to dance. It was their way of returning to the old traditions, a way of confirming who they were and what they stood for.
Rita had met Nuncia when she and Louise had gone to the farm to meet Mr and Mrs Jones. Nuncia worked there as a land girl, and Rita had liked her very much, for it was clear she was as in love with Roberto as he was with her. Louise, unfortunately, didn’t share Rita’s joy for them, and made it clear at every possible moment that she didn’t approve.
Rita was relieved that she wouldn’t be around to witness Louise’s next foray into emotional blackmail. She climbed out of bed and pulled back the curtains. It was a clear, crisp, sunny day, and she could smell the delicious aroma of bacon frying downstairs. Hurrying to wash and dress, she stuffed everything back in her bag, stripped the bed and went down for breakfast.
Mrs Hughes was in a hurry this morning – she had a sick neighbour to visit – so Rita said goodbye to her and thanked her for looking after them so well.
