Sweet Memories of You (Beach View Boarding House) (35 page)

Veronica went on to say that her friend who worked for the Red Cross had finally managed to track down Archie’s parents. His mother was in Wales with the rest of the family, but sadly, his father had died of a heart attack during a raid.

Doreen sighed. At least one of them had survived, and his mother would be far safer in Wales. She would write to her later and let her know how the funeral went.

Returning to Veronica’s letter, she learned that her friend had been meeting a colleague of her late husband’s for the occasional dinner now he was posted at Biggin Hill. He was a wing commander, very good company and rather keen to take things further, but Ronnie was having doubts, for it felt disloyal to her late husband to be stepping out with one of his closest friends.

After several pages of the current gossip going around the Fort, Veronica wrote that she’d had a long and serious conversation with the head of Admin, and it had been decided that Doreen should take an extra two weeks off. There would be some money coming to her from the emergency fund, and Mrs Fletcher was happy to keep her room until she got back, so she wasn’t to worry.

Doreen finished the letter and looked over at Peggy, who was deeply immersed in her latest airgraphs from Jim. Not wanting to disturb her by asking her what she should do about this extended leave, she left the kitchen, collected her coat and headed for the seafront. She could think clearly there.

She walked down the hill and stood for a moment to look at the cliffs that towered over the pebble beach, remembering how once there had been fishing boats sitting on the shingle above the high-water mark, and several wooden huts strung along the end of the promenade where the nets would be hung to dry and the catch would be cleaned and gutted and sold to the eager housewives. Now it was fenced off with great coils of barbed wire, the shingle laid with mines and the lovely bay strung with ugly concrete shipping traps.

Doreen sighed, dug her hands in her pockets and began to walk past the wreckage of the Grand Hotel and the houses that had stood next to it. The boarding houses and private hotels had either been boarded up and abandoned, or requisitioned by the council or the Army to house men or evacuees. The white paint was peeling on the balconies, rust was beginning to set in on the metal window frames, and the gardens where holidaymakers had once sat under umbrellas were now just plots of weeds and long grass.

Everything changed, but somehow it was still the same. The essence of Cliffehaven remained in the stalwart spirit of the people who lived here, the common goal of winning this war bringing them even more closely together. Despite the destruction, the shortages and the air raids, brave little Cliffehaven survived to fight another day.

Doreen raised her face to the sun as the salty breeze blew in from the sea and ruffled her curls. The familiar cries of the scavenging gulls, the splash of waves on pebbles and the scent of the sea had helped to heal some of the hurt these past two weeks, for they’d reminded her that life was too precious to be wasted on regrets for what might have been. She and Archie had experienced something very special, and although he was gone, she could feel him beside her every step of the way. And because of that, she would find the strength to live the life that she’d been granted, and live it to the full.

She carried on walking along the promenade, feeling free and secure and a million miles away from her previous life. Eddie wouldn’t find her here, and eventually he’d realise that his letters would never be answered, so would stop writing them and let her get on with her life.

It was a lovely morning and several others had come out to enjoy it, for there were strollers and dog walkers, women with prams and old men simply sitting on the stone benches, at peace with their pipes as they stared out to sea or shared reminiscences with their cronies. She had always planned to bring Evie and Joyce here for a holiday, but somehow there’d never been enough time or money – especially once she’d divorced Eddie. But the minute the war was over she would go and collect them from Wales and bring them home to Peggy, and let them enjoy a taste of what her own childhood had been like.

She finally reached the wooden tearoom at the end of the promenade, and seeing that it was open, she stepped inside and ordered a cup of coffee and a rock cake. It turned out to be more rock than cake, but the freshness of the sea and the exercise had given her a bit of an appetite, so she didn’t waste a crumb.

As she sat there, she wondered what Doris was doing. None of them had seen her since that morning’s row, and as time had gone on, Doreen had begun to feel rather ashamed at the way she’d lashed out at her. The poor woman wasn’t happy, according to Peggy, for she really was on her own now Anthony was married, and Ted refused to leave his bachelor flat above the Home and Colonial. For all her posh ideas and ridiculous posturing, she had no real friends, and even her family were reluctant to have anything to do with her.

Finishing the last of the coffee, Doreen paid her bill and headed for Havelock Road. She suspected she’d be sent off with a well-deserved flea in her ear, but she couldn’t rest until she’d at least tried to mend the fences between them.

The house was just as she remembered, all neat and tidy, the windows and paint gleaming, the garden planted with military precision. She took a deep breath and rapped the knocker.

‘Who is it?’

‘It’s Doreen. I’ve come to apologise.’

The door slowly opened and Doris stood there looking very different from her usual perfectly groomed self. Her face was devoid of make-up, her eyes were swollen and red from crying and she was still in her dressing gown at midday.

‘Oh, Doris,’ she breathed as she instinctively reached out to her. ‘What’s happened?’

Doris eased her arm from her sister’s grip. ‘I don’t want the neighbours to see me like this,’ she said gruffly. ‘You’d better come in.’

Doreen stepped into the hall, deeply concerned. Realising her sister wanted no tactile sympathy, but thankful that she’d made the effort to come here this morning, Doreen followed her into the magnificently appointed drawing room where the large bay window provided a panoramic view of the sea. She unbuttoned her coat and sat down as Doris stood by the window, her fingers restlessly twisting the belt of her dressing gown.

‘What is it, Doris?’ she asked quietly.

‘I have spent my life doing my best for everyone,’ she said after a long pause. ‘But it seems I am to be vilified and abandoned by those who I thought were closest to me.’

Doreen left the couch and went to stand beside her, wanting to put her arm about her, but knowing it wouldn’t be welcome. ‘I’m so sorry for what I said the other week, Doris,’ she said earnestly. ‘It wasn’t kind.’

Doris took a trembling breath and dabbed at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief. ‘No, it wasn’t,’ she said thickly. ‘But I have had time to consider the things you said, and I realise that I might have been rather harsh with you.’

Doreen waited for the apology but it didn’t come. ‘But you’re very upset this morning,’ she said. ‘And it can’t be over that silly spat we had, so what has happened? Why do you feel vilified and abandoned?’

Doris turned from the window and ran her hand over the highly polished piano before perching on the edge of a nearby armchair. ‘I thought long and hard about what you said, Doreen, and so yesterday I went to see Edward.’

Doreen felt a twinge of guilt, because there was little doubt that the meeting hadn’t gone well. ‘That must have been quite hard,’ she murmured.

Doris dabbed her eyes again and then mangled the handkerchief between her fingers. ‘He wouldn’t listen to me – refused to believe that I could make things better between us. He just said he was staying where he was and that I should get a letter from his solicitor by the end of the week about a divorce.’ She swallowed and blinked back her tears. ‘He said he realised it might cause a scandal, but he was willing to put things into place so that I could sue him for infidelity and abandonment.’

‘Oh, Doris, I’m so sorry. How awful for you.’

‘And then …’ She swallowed hard as the tears began to roll down her pale cheeks. ‘And then I received a telephone call from Anthony. He’s been posted to somewhere ghastly in the Midlands and Susan is going with him.’

‘But they’ll be back the minute the war’s over,’ Doreen soothed. ‘They have their own little house, remember?’

‘That’s not the point,’ said Doris. ‘Susan is expecting a baby, and I will not be able to have anything to do with it until they do return to Cliffehaven. And even that isn’t guaranteed, because Susan is already talking about them moving to London to be near her parents once the war’s over.’

‘I don’t know what to say, Doris,’ she murmured. ‘Only that whatever they decide to do after the war, you’ll be able to visit them and get to know your grandchild.’

‘Susan doesn’t like me,’ snapped Doris, ‘and the feeling is mutual after the way she got between me and Anthony. She calls me interfering and bossy, when all I was trying to do was make their wedding a very special occasion.’

Doreen had heard all about that in Peggy’s letters, and, frankly, came down on Susan’s side. But she said nothing and tentatively reached out to give her sister’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. ‘I’m sure things will settle down between you once the baby’s born.’

Doris blew her nose and dried her eyes. ‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘but I won’t be holding my breath. That girl will make certain that I have very little say in the raising of my grandchild.’

‘Perhaps it’s best not to give any advice and let her muddle through on her own,’ said Doreen tactfully. ‘New mothers can be very tricky, but she’ll calm down and realise that you can be a great help and adviser.’

‘Do you really think so?’

There was so much hope in those reddened eyes and the voice was so plaintive that Doreen put her arm around her sister and held her close. ‘I’m sure of it,’ she fibbed. ‘Anthony will want you to play a part in that baby’s life, and he’ll see that you’re not shut out.’

Doris didn’t move from the embrace, but she was stiff and obviously felt awkward with such intimacy.

Doreen released her. ‘I’ll go and make you a nice cup of tea.’

‘I’d prefer a whisky and soda,’ said Doris. ‘The bottles and glasses are in that cabinet.’

Doreen opened the cabinet door and was greeted by the sight of rows of bottles of spirits as well as mixers and two soda syphons. Doris certainly wasn’t feeling the pinch of rationing and she wondered where it had all come from. Again, she said nothing, poured them both fairly hefty slugs of whisky and spritzed them with soda.

‘Why don’t you get dressed after that and come with me for a walk on the seafront? It’s a beautiful day, and I don’t like to think of you being all alone until Caroline comes home.’

‘Caroline doesn’t live here any more,’ Doris said briskly. ‘She and her friend decided they’d prefer to rent a flat so they could entertain and be more private.’ Her tone was bitter. ‘That’s the thanks I get for all the things I did to make that girl feel at home here.’

‘It was probably the pig’s head that did it,’ said Doreen in an effort to lighten the mood and get Doris to smile.

Doris’s expression was stony. ‘If you persist in making light of my situation then you should go,’ she snapped. ‘That damned pig was the start of all my troubles.’

Doreen didn’t see how the pig could have had anything to do with Ted wanting a divorce, or Anthony and Susan going to the Midlands, but kept her thoughts to herself. She drained the whisky and set the glass on the coffee table. ‘What’s done is done,’ she said on a sigh. ‘Come on, Doris. Get dressed and we’ll go for that walk.’

‘I have no wish to go for a walk,’ she said stiffly. ‘I cannot possibly be seen in public until I’ve visited my beautician. There is enough sniggering behind my back as it is after that disastrous luncheon with Lady Chumley.’

‘Oh, dear. Have they all closed ranks again?’

‘It seems I have not been invited to the annual garden party this year. Neither have I been invited to the fundraising luncheon next week.’ She stood up, her pale face now flushed with fury. ‘You can tell that disgusting old man Reilly that it’s all his fault – and furthermore, if I hear one more whisper about illicit meat, I shall go to the police and get him locked away.’

‘Doris, Doris,’ she soothed. ‘There’s no need to vent your spleen on Ron. He’s not to blame for everything that’s happened to you.’

Doris’s eyes were blazing now and she climbed right onto the back of her high horse. ‘That man is to blame for a great many things in this town,’ she snapped. ‘And as you seem to side with him, then I’d like you to leave.’

‘Don’t start all that again,’ Doreen said mildly. ‘We’ll only end up having a row, and all I came for was to say I was sorry for the last one.’

‘Just go, Doreen. Go back to Margaret’s and live in squalor with those disreputable people you seem to want to defend. I don’t need you or your dubious apology.’

Doreen gritted her teeth as she grabbed her bag and gas-mask box. She would not rise to it – was determined to quell the spike of fury that was urging her to shake Doris until her teeth rattled. ‘I’ll see myself out,’ she muttered.

Peggy had finished reading the two airgraphs from Jim, so she tucked them back in their envelopes and got on with her knitting while Daisy played on the floor with her toys. The house was quiet with everyone out, and it was rather pleasant to have a moment of peace and quiet.

‘Did Jim have anything exciting to report?’ asked Cordelia, closing her partially read library book with a sniff of disgust.

‘Not much, really,’ Peggy admitted. ‘It seems he’s in charge of the workshop over there and is being sent back and forth to rescue trucks and things that have broken down. He was a bit fed up, I think, because he’s had bellyache for a while, and the endless rain and heat are beginning to get him down. On top of all that, his mate Ernie has gone down with malaria, so he’s had to go to hospital. But Jim’s been kept very busy at work, and it sounds as if he’s managed to get a swim each day in the river. There’s entertainment laid on most nights in the mess, but he didn’t appear to be too enthusiastic about it.’