by Ellie Dean
Fran chuckled. ‘You’ll not be match-making, now would you, Aunt Peg? To be sure, I’m happy the way I am.’ She gave her a quick hug and moved away to talk to the other nurses while the young man’s gaze followed her every move.
If only Robert had the gumption to approach her and actually talk to her, then he might get somewhere, thought Peggy in frustration. But then Fran was a lively spirit, and she probably terrified him with her beauty and her bright personality. The poor boy’s admiration was doomed to failure unless he turned out to have some sort of saving grace.
Peggy turned her attention away from Fran and the lovesick best man and saw Mary being hugged and thanked by Suzy and Anthony before she was captured by Evelyn. She’d give her own thanks later, she decided. She looked round at the gathering to see if Martin had made it yet, but there was no sign of him, and she could only suppose that the traffic had held him up.
Peggy wandered from group to group, and although she chatted and laughed and gave the impression that she was quite happy to be on her own, there was a deep yearning to have Jim by her side, and his arm to lean on – not separated from him by the many miles between here and the Far East. And yet she wasn’t the only woman on her own, and as time went on, she began to really enjoy herself.
Mary was feeling shy and rather embarrassed by all the praise that had been heaped on her, and although she knew she looked as smart and sophisticated as everyone else, her feet were killing her in the tight shoes.
Once the photographs had been taken and the confetti had been thrown, Edward drove the bride and groom back to Havelock Road. Julian then crammed Doris, Evelyn, Cordelia, Rita, Jane, Sarah, Fran and Mary into his enormous Rolls-Royce, and they purred along feeling terribly grand as they giggled and gave regal waves to those who stopped to watch them pass.
As the bridal party formed a welcoming line in the hall, two of Anthony’s work colleagues from the MOD drove back and forth to ferry the remaining guests from the church to the reception. The house was soon filled with laughing, chattering people who drank the champagne, ate the delicious food and admired the magnificent sea views from the drawing-room window.
Mary sipped the lovely champagne and saw that Doris was in her element as she graciously greeted everyone and made sure they had something to drink, and someone to talk to. Mrs James and her handsome husband were equally good hosts, and Anthony and Suzy held hands as they drifted from group to group in a haze of happiness.
As darkness fell and the blackout curtains were pulled, Suzy slipped away to change out of her lovely dress into a smart navy suit and hat. Everyone gathered on the doorstep to wish them well, and Anthony drove them away in the little car he’d borrowed from his office pool, the tin cans, balloons and old shoes rattling along behind them.
‘Where are they spending their honeymoon?’ Mary asked Peggy.
Peggy shot a glance at a rather tearful Doris to make sure she was out of earshot. ‘Anthony bought a dear little house just to the north of Cliffehaven and they’ll spend their honeymoon there settling in. But don’t mention it to Doris, or she’ll be on their doorstep before you can say knife.’
Mary smiled. ‘My lips are sealed,’ she promised.
Peggy sighed. ‘I’m going to miss her dreadfully, you know,’ she said wistfully. ‘She’s become so much a part of the family, and as she packed her things and slowly emptied her room, it was like saying goodbye to a daughter.’
‘I can understand that,’ murmured Mary. ‘But knowing Suzy, she’ll visit regularly, and you still have the other girls. I’m sure it won’t be long before you have someone else to fill that empty room.’
Peggy dabbed her eyes with her rather soggy hanky. ‘I’ll leave it until the New Year now,’ she said. ‘Unless you and Ivy want to move in with me?’ she asked hopefully.
Mary put her arm round her shoulders. ‘I do appreciate the offer, Peggy, but we’re settled here now. And I promise to visit often.’
‘That would be lovely,’ she murmured. ‘I’d hate to think we might lose touch.’
Mary laughed as they headed back indoors. ‘There’s no fear of that,’ she declared. ‘You’ve done so much for me and been so kind, I look upon you as my most favourite auntie.’
‘But you’re all right with you-know-who now?’
Mary nodded. ‘I keep out of his way and ignore him. He hasn’t tried approaching me again.’
‘Good. Now let’s make a cup of tea before I have to get Ron and Cordelia home. All that rich food and champagne has left me with a terrible thirst, and Ron has had enough whisky to sink a battleship. He’ll start singing next – and that would be too awful.’
Rosie had known it was risky to leave her brother in charge of the pub for the remaining half-hour of the lunchtime session, and she certainly wasn’t prepared to let him loose with her takings during the busy evening. So she’d spent only an hour at the reception and hurried home expecting to find an empty till and no sign of Tommy.
But he’d surprised her, for the day’s takings had been added up and noted down along with the amount of float he’d left for tonight. There was no sign of him, but as Monty was also missing, she had to assume he’d taken the pup for his walk, which again was a huge surprise. Tommy didn’t do dog-walking – in fact he didn’t do much at all except make a mess and get in her way – but for once he seemed to be on his best behaviour.
She breathed a sigh of relief, slipped off her high heels and went upstairs to make a cup of tea and get changed for opening time. Perhaps he really was trying to change his life around, though it would be a first – and she was always deeply suspicious when Tommy was on his best behaviour, for it usually meant he was plotting something.
She put her wedding finery away and was now in her usual black skirt and white blouse, her bare feet padding on the cold kitchen lino as she made a pot of tea and hunted out an aspirin. The champagne had flowed and she’d probably had too much of it to keep a clear head tonight.
The sound of scampering paws and the heavy tread of feet on the bare wooden stairs heralded their arrival. Monty leapt up and tried to lick her face, then wriggled and squirmed, his plumed tail thudding against the kitchen cupboard as she praised and patted him. ‘Thanks for taking him out, Tommy,’ she said. ‘I’ve just made a pot of tea. Would you like some?’
He nodded and shed his coat and hat onto a nearby chair, then took the loaded tray into the sitting room and set it down on a low table by the couch. ‘How did the wedding go?’
‘Wonderfully well.’ Rosie sank into the couch, and Monty immediately jumped up to sprawl across her lap. As she’d been absent for most of the day, she decided to ignore the dog hair on her black skirt and let him stay. She caressed his floppy ears as she went on to describe the bride, the bridesmaids and the ceremony, and how everyone had been so stunned by Fran’s violin playing. ‘She looked like a will-o’-the-wisp who’d strayed from her fairy kingdom,’ she finished dreamily.
‘Is she and that other girl coming in tonight to play?’ he asked almost nonchalantly as he poured out the tea.
Rosie glanced across at him as she lit a cigarette. ‘They’re all still at the reception and won’t play again until Christmas Eve.’ She regarded him steadily. ‘You know the rules, Tommy. You’re to stay away from all the girls who come in here, especially Peggy’s girls.’
He passed her a cup and saucer, lit his own cigarette and sat back in the armchair. ‘I have no intention of going anywhere near any of them,’ he said. ‘I prefer my women mature and experienced. I just wondered when they’d be in next, that’s all. A lot of the customers were asking after them this lunchtime.’
‘I’ll pin a notice up on the door about Christmas Eve.’ She sipped her tea.
‘That Mary isn’t one of Peggy’s girls, is she?’ he asked casually.
Rosie looked at him through the cigarette smoke. ‘What’s it to you, Tommy?’
He shrugged as his gaze slid away and he tapped ash into the ashtray. ‘Nothing. Only
I heard she’s new in the town, and I wondered how Peggy got to know her. They seem very pally.’
Rosie weighed her words carefully before she answered him. ‘I have no idea,’ she said, ‘but she’s a lovely girl, and Peggy and I have come to like her very much.’ She eyed him speculatively. ‘I don’t know why you should be interested in Mary, but it stops now. If I find you’ve been pestering her again, then you’re out on your ear. Is that understood?’
He heaved a great sigh. ‘It comes to something when I can’t have a friendly conversation with my sister about the people who come into her pub.’
‘As long as that was all it was,’ she replied sternly.
‘Give me some credit, Rose,’ he muttered.
His credit had run out a long time ago as far as Rosie was concerned, but she’d made her point clear and as there seemed no profit in taking this conversation any further, she changed the subject. ‘I’m expecting a delivery from the brewery tomorrow morning, so I’ll need you to help me check the order and change those two empty barrels. I just hope they’ll bring everything I asked for this time. We’re already getting busy, and with Christmas and New Year looming I can’t afford to run out.’
‘I’m sure the brewery is aware of that,’ he said with a shrug. ‘But they can only bring what they have as long as the rationing makes everything scarce.’
Rosie nodded. ‘Either way, I’ll just have to manage.’ She gave a sigh as she stroked Monty’s silky coat. ‘I’m rather hoping we can welcome in 1943 with some style, and that Fran and Mary will be off duty and able to play.’
‘Surely they won’t be expected to go to work on such a night?’
Rosie shrugged. ‘Fran’s a theatre nurse at the hospital and Mary works up at the Kodak factory. Their shifts are long and fairly irregular, so there’s no guarantee they’ll have any time off over Christmas. But I’ll certainly ask and just hope they haven’t made any other plans.’
Tommy didn’t reply. He sat smoking thoughtfully for a while, then stubbed out his cigarette and drained his cup of tea. ‘I have to go out for a bit. But I’m not on fire-watch tonight, so I’ll be back in plenty of time to help when you open up at six.’ He gave Rosie his most charming smile.
She watched as he pulled on his smart coat and hat then went whistling down the stairs, slamming the side door behind him. Tommy was definitely up to something, but she was blowed if she knew what it might be. She stroked Monty as she sat there deep in thought. Tommy would have to be closely watched, for the last thing she needed now was any trouble.
Once all the wedding guests had drifted off to their homes, Peggy and the others from Beach View said their goodbyes to Doris and Edward, praising and thanking them for a marvellous day. They’d had to wake Cordelia, who’d fallen asleep in a chair overwhelmed with too much champagne and excitement, and Julian had driven everyone back home to a joyous welcome from Harvey.
Evelyn and Julian hadn’t stayed long after that, for they needed to get back to London and it was a long, rather dangerous drive in the blackout. They’d arrived as strangers but left as friends, with an open, genuine invitation on both sides to visit when they could.
Peggy now sat in her kitchen wrapped in her warm dressing gown as the girls stopped chattering and moving about upstairs and the house slowly fell silent. She was tired, but her racing mind wouldn’t allow for sleep yet, so she sipped her tea and lit a cigarette as she sat there and tried to relax after the lovely day.
It had taken her quite a while to calm Cordelia down and get her settled for the night after rather overdoing it on the champagne and rich food, but once the old lady’s head had hit the pillow she was soon snoring. Ron had taken Harvey out for a long run after his day of imprisonment in the cellar, and Daisy had been a bit grizzly and overtired after all the fuss and praise, and it had been a while before she too had settled.
Peggy puffed on her cigarette. Martin hadn’t put in an appearance at all today, and now she was getting worried. There had been no telephone call either, which was unusual, for Martin was a thoughtful man and would have known she’d become fretful at his no-show. There had been no point in even trying to get hold of anyone at the airfield, for such private calls were now frowned upon – and if anything had happened to him, she would have heard by now. All she could really do was wait until morning and hope he would get in touch.
Her thoughts meandered over the otherwise happy day and she felt a swell of pride for all her girls. Suzy had made the most beautiful bride; Fran had been quite magnificent; Rita, Jane and Sarah had looked wonderful in their dresses – and Mary had shone at the organ. All in all they had come up trumps and proved to Doris that she had no cause to look down her nose at any of them. At least she’d had the honesty to acknowledge Fran’s talent – even if it did mean the girl had been blackmailed into performing at the charity concert she’d organised for New Year’s Day.
How Jim would have loved it all, she thought as she sat there in the flickering glow of the range fire. He and Julian would have got on like a house on fire, and although he’d have had to have been watched closely in case he drank too much and started flirting with every woman in the place, he’d have been the life and soul of the party. She’d missed him terribly all through the day, for a family wedding simply wasn’t the same without him at her side.
Deciding that she would write to him tomorrow and tell him all about it, her thoughts strayed to Christmas. She and Jim had only spent two other Christmases apart, and that had been when he was fighting in the last war – now she would have to face another one without him, knowing that he was on the other side of the world.
She threw the butt of her cigarette into the fire and closed the range door. The weariness was making her morbid, and she needed to go to bed. The house was dreadfully untidy and it would take most of tomorrow to get it straight again. Then there was the washing, the queuing at the shops, her stint at the WVS … It was all getting on top of her and if she didn’t let it go, she’d just collapse beneath the weight of it.
Chapter Six
IT WAS CHRISTMAS Eve and the factories were still in twenty-four-hour production and would continue to be so right through what had once been the holiday season. Mary sat next to Jenny, sifting through the thousands of airgraphs that seemed to pour in every day.
Despite the strict no-talking rule set by the fiercely bossy Sergeant Norris, all the girls had learned how to hold short conversations without moving their lips as they kept their heads down and swiftly sorted the airgraphs into piles, which were then taken to another desk to be checked and sent to the service sensors. At least Mary no longer suffered from neck ache, but sitting down all day made her lethargic, and she was beginning to wonder if she’d end up with a bottom the width of a battleship.
The hooter went at six and she slowly got to her feet and stretched. There wouldn’t be time to go back to Havelock Road and eat supper before she had to be at the Anchor, so she’d told Doris she’d eat at the canteen and stay at Peggy’s as she always did after such a night, so she didn’t have to walk home alone.
Ivy was on late shift, so would be working through the night, but at least she had Christmas Day off – whereas Mary had to work through it so she could have New Year’s Day off for Doris’s concert. Not that Mary really minded missing Christmas lunch with Doris and Edward, for it was sure to be dull, and Doris would probably go on endlessly about the wedding and the concert while poor Edward was ignored.
‘It seems odd having to work on Christmas Day,’ said Jenny as they pulled on their coats and grabbed their gas-mask boxes and bags from the locker. ‘But then being so far from home and family doesn’t really make it feel like Christmas, does it? I’d rather work than spend it at the hostel, to be honest. At least we get double pay, and a slap-up lunch, which should be quite jolly with all the other girls.’
‘I feel the same,’ said Mary as they went out into the wintry night. ‘Will they really give us a proper Christmas dinner, do you think?’
Mary unfurled her umbrella and pulled up her coat collar against the bitter wind that was driving the rain across the factory estate. ‘Are you coming to the pub tonight?’
‘I’ll say. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ Jenny smiled and opened her own umbrella. ‘You and Fran have really livened up the place. It’s a great pity the other pubs don’t follow suit.’ She grimaced at the lashing rain which had formed deep puddles on the tarmac and was gushing from all the gutters. ‘I’ll see you later then, if I don’t drown on the way home.’
As Jenny hurried off towards the gate, Mary ran across the yard and went into the warm fug of the canteen. She waited in the queue for a plate of stew and mashed potato, a bowl of jelly and a cup of tea, and, not really in the mood for chatter, found a place at an empty table.
The canteen wasn’t very busy, for most people went straight home at the end of their shift, and those coming on would have already eaten. But a few lingered during their break as their shifts overlapped. Mary tucked into the hot food, for she was hungry after the long day and she’d only eaten a sandwich for lunch. As she finished her meal and drank her tea, her thoughts returned to Jack and to Christmas.
Jack was still on his course, and his last short note had told her that there would be no leave for at least the next week or so. He was exhausted most of the time, but doing well and passing all the torturous tests the training officers put them through, though he was getting a bit tired of being shouted at from the moment he woke up to lights-out. He signed off with love and hoped that, despite everything, she had a good Christmas.
Mary had been bitterly disappointed that she wouldn’t see him, or be able to stay with Barbara and Joseph over the two days – and yet now she was rather glad things had turned out the way they had. Being at work would focus her mind on other things, and because she hadn’t been able to return to Harebridge Green, she wouldn’t be haunted by all the memories of past Christmases. And yet, even here, those memories still had the power to hurt and they returned with full force as she sat alone in the factory canteen.
