There'll Be Blue Skies (18 page)

Sally scurried back and quickly swopped chairs. There were always plenty to choose from as the Sunday shift was less popular. She looked over to the other side of the room just in time to see Iris leap from her chair with a squeal of anguish.

She smiled as the other women roared with laughter and Iris shoved Simmons to one side as she dashed to the washrooms. Justice had been done.

‘I tried to ring you, to see if you were all right,’ said Doris, as Peggy opened the front door. ‘But of course all the lines were down.’ She sniffed and eyed the crater at the end of the road, and the boarded-up windows, as if decrying the untidiness of it all. ‘We aren’t careless enough to suffer gas explosions at our end of town.’

‘That’s nice for you,’ said Peggy flatly. Doris was almost an hour early, and although she’d had time to wash and change into her new frock, she wasn’t nearly ready to put up with her airs and graces.

‘I’ve had to park the car right down the road,’ she complained. ‘I do hope it will be safe. One can’t be sure in this neighbourhood.’

Peggy gritted her teeth and refused to rise to the bait. ‘Give me your coat and I’ll hang it up.’

‘I’d rather keep it on. It’s mink, you know, and this house is always freezing.’ She stepped into the hallway clutching the mink to her as if afraid it might get tainted by touching anything. ‘I do hope you’ve got some decent sherry for a change. I can’t abide that wishy-washy stuff you dish out.’

‘There’s no sherry,’ said Peggy. ‘You’ll have to make do with tea like the rest of us.’

Her look said it all, reminding Peggy of a disgruntled pug dog that had been denied a biscuit. With a sigh of resignation, she followed Doris, who’d swept into the dining room and placed her expensive leather handbag on the one comfortable armchair. Doris didn’t sit in kitchens. She regarded such behaviour as common.

‘I see you’ve got the Singer out again.’ Her gaze travelled from the neck to the hem of Peggy’s new dress as she peeled off her leather gloves. ‘I must say, Margaret, your skills have certainly come on since the last time you tried to make anything. That could almost be shop-bought.’

Doris was the only person in the family to insist upon calling her Margaret, and Peggy suspected she only did it because she knew how much it irritated her. ‘Sally made the dress. I’m still hopeless at sewing,’ she replied.

‘Sally?’ The carefully plucked eyebrows rose as she placed the gloves inside the handbag and snapped it shut.

‘She’s my evacuee,’ Peggy explained yet again. ‘She and her brother have been living here for two months, as you very well know.’

‘I find it difficult to remember things that don’t interest me,’ she replied dismissively. ‘How you can open your home to such dreadful people is beyond my comprehension.’ She moved towards the fireplace to regard her reflection in the mirror above it. ‘I suppose she’s from the East End, and speaks with some ghastly accent that possesses very few consonants and tortured grammar?’

‘She’s a lovely sweet girl,’ murmured Peggy, ‘and I won’t have you talking about her like that.’

Doris turned from the mirror and eyed the dress again. ‘I’m surprised some chit from the East End knows how to sew,’ she said, ‘but a good dressmaker is a rare find. Send her over to pick up one or two of my cheaper dresses that need altering. If she’s good enough, I might even let her work on some of my better things – but not until she’s proved herself.’

‘Sally’s good enough to work on anything,’ said Peggy stoutly, ‘but she has enough to do without running all over town after you. If you want alterations done, then you’ll have to bring them here.’

Peggy realised she was letting Doris’s attitude get to her and took a deep breath. ‘She charges the going rate,’ she warned. ‘I’ll not have you trying to get sewing done on the cheap just because she’s living here.’

‘As if I would.’ Doris sniffed delicately and returned to admiring her reflection in the mirror. Carefully taking off her hat and placing it on the table, she patted her freshly washed and set hair with a manicured hand.

‘Your hair looks nice,’ Peggy remarked, hoping to defrost her sister’s attitude.

‘Thank you. I had it done yesterday morning.’ Her nose wrinkled as she took in Peggy’s rather untidy hairdo. ‘You should try the salon, Margaret.

A fresh shampoo and set would work wonders, and a little tint of colour would soon get rid of that grey.’

Peggy didn’t even bother to reply. Doris knew very well she had neither the time nor the money for hairdressers. As for the grey, there were only a few wisps of it here and there and she’d chosen to ignore them – unlike Doris, whose hair was a slightly different colour every time she saw her.

She went to make the tea, adding a plate of biscuits and the last of the sponge cake to the tray before carrying it into the dining room.

Doris was smoking one of her Turkish cigarettes, and flicking the ash into a glass flower vase she’d taken from the mantelpiece. The fur was draped becomingly off her shoulders to reveal three rows of pearls at her neck, and a dove-grey two-piece suit. She sat in the armchair, slim legs crossed at the ankles, showing off silk stockings and expensive two-tone shoes.

Peggy thought she looked quite at home and far too elegant for her dining room, which only served to make her even more cross. She grabbed the ashtray and rescued her precious glass vase, noting the suit that had definitely not come from any of the local shops. The pearls were a new acquisition.

She felt the familiar stab of envy Doris always incurred – and hastily dismissed it. Her sister might have money and a lovely detached house, but she was married to Ted, who might be a successful shop manager, but still had to be the most boring, self-satisfied and opinionated man on earth. For all his faults, she wouldn’t swop Jim for a day of Doris’s life.

‘Where are the boys?’

‘They’re out with Ron somewhere,’ she said vaguely, knowing full well they were messing about in Ron’s shed. But as Doris never went near the back garden, she’d never know.

‘I was hoping to see Anne and Cicely, but it appears they too are nowhere to be seen. Really, Margaret, it’s not good enough when I’ve made the journey especially.’

‘Anne’s gone to lunch with Martin’s parents, and Cicely is rehearsing the new show. They knew you were coming, but couldn’t change their arrangements. They send their apologies and hope to see you soon.’

Peggy glanced at the little clock on the mantel, and felt a flutter of apprehension. She did hope everything had gone well for Anne. She liked Martin, and was delighted the two of them seemed so well-matched, but it was always nerve-wracking to meet your sweetheart’s parents for the first time. She could still remember all too well how Ron and Sybil had been less than friendly when they realised the wedding would have to be a hurried one while Jim was on leave.

Doris’s voice broke into her fretful thoughts. ‘And where’s that feckless husband of yours? I see the damp patch is still in the corner, and those window-frames haven’t been painted for years.’

‘He’s at work.’

Her brown eyes widened. ‘Really? How so? The cinema is closed. I saw the notice on the door as I drove past.’

‘He had to go in to check on the new projector and make sure he knows how to work it properly before they open again tonight,’ Peggy replied briskly. She wasn’t about to let her sister cast aspersions on Jim – even though sometimes he wasn’t always where he was meant to be.

Peggy poured the tea. She had dug out the best china, knowing Doris refused to drink from anything else. ‘We’ve been at sixes and sevens today,’ she said, handing her the bone-china cup and saucer and offering the biscuits and cake. ‘I’ve yet to make a start on tea.’

‘Supper, Margaret. One has tea at four o’clock.’ Her disdainful gaze swept over the cake and biscuits before she waved them away. ‘I won’t have time to stay anyway. I have to chair an important committee meeting of the WRVS tonight.’

Peggy eyed her sister without much affection. The old saying was true, she reflected sadly. You could choose your friends, but not your family.

Doris left an hour later and, before her car had reached the seafront, Peggy’s kitchen was invaded by three hungry boys and a thirsty old man. She made more tea, rationed the sugar and milk she put in it and let them loose on the cake and biscuits. She would make a start on the evening meal once she’d had a cigarette and a bit of a sit-down. Doris always wore her out, and she needed a few minutes to gather her senses.

‘I see that sister of yours has had the usual effect,’ muttered Jim, arriving back from the cinema. ‘What’s she done now to upset you?’

‘It’s her high-handed attitude that gets my goat,’ she snapped, ‘and the way she knows how to wind me up tighter than a clock.’ Peggy threw the butt of her cigarette into the coal scuttle and poured him a cup of tea. ‘But today really put the tin lid on it.’

‘Just like Grandpa’s helmet,’ chimed in Charlie, who was busy with a colouring book at the table.

Jim softly cuffed his ear, and they grinned at one another before he turned back to Peggy. ‘What’s she done this time?’

Peggy lit a second cigarette, which was most unlike her, but her nerves were shredded and smoking seemed to calm her. ‘You know that girl who cleans for her? Well, she’s threatened to sack her unless she tells the billeting officer that she’s moved into Doris’s spare room. Doris refuses to take in evacuees, or even servicemen, and it’s the only way she can get around it without falling foul of the authorities.’

‘Is the girl really moving in?’

‘Of course not. Doris wouldn’t let her in the front door unless she’d arrived to scrub the floors and do the ironing.’ She puffed furiously on the cigarette, aware that the three boys were listening to this conversation with avid interest. ‘She even had the nerve to say she wouldn’t take in Doreen and the girls if they turned up.’

‘Why ever not? At least they’re family.’

She pulled a face. ‘Ted doesn’t like his routine disturbed, evidently,’ she said scornfully, ‘and of course that precious son of hers is working for the MoD, and can’t
possibly
risk having his very important –
secret
– work compromised by strangers moving into the house.’

‘I’ve always felt a bit sorry for Anthony. He’s a nice young fellow – a bit shy, but with a hell of a brain on him. It’s a pity he’s got such a mother. No wonder he’s never married.’

‘Any self-respecting girl would run a mile at the idea of having her as a mother-in-law,’ said Peggy, blowing smoke. ‘Bossy is not the word to describe her. Do you know what she had the nerve to say to me?’ She didn’t wait for him to reply. ‘She said that as I already had a houseful of waifs and strays, she didn’t think that it would make much difference if I took in Doreen and the girls as well.’

‘Has she heard from Doreen then? Is she coming down?’

Peggy shook her head. ‘Doris tried telephoning her this morning with no luck, and I tried this afternoon. The lines are still down, and the operator has no idea when they’ll be fixed.’

‘There’s no point in getting all steamed up over Doris,’ Jim murmured. ‘She’ll never change. As for Doreen, well, there
is
plenty of room here, and she’ll be guaranteed a warm welcome. Though I doubt she’ll want to leave London for too long.’

The anger had left Peggy and now she felt rather deflated. ‘Yes, I know, and I’ll gladly take them all – as long as Doris doesn’t keep poking her nose in and causing trouble. You know how those two fight.’

Jim grinned. ‘I do indeed,’ he said, ‘and it’s a sight to see, to be sure.’ He gave her a hug and a kiss and left to buy an evening paper.

Peggy finished her cigarette, ordered the boys to clear the mess from the table before she turned on the wireless for their favourite programme, and went to the walk-in larder to find something to cook for the evening meal. She eyed the bags of sugar with suspicion, and popped them into the empty bread-crock so no-one could see them. If she was caught hoarding such things, they’d all be in trouble.

The sirens went off just as they were about to sit down to mince, cabbage and potato. There was the usual bustle to get everyone safely into the shelter, but fifteen minutes later the all-clear sounded and they were back in the kitchen. The food was lukewarm, but it was eaten with gusto anyway.

The newsreader sounded solemn as they gathered quietly to listen to the wireless after their tea. Russia, in alliance with Germany, had attacked Finland. Barrage balloons were being erected above the more important buildings in London, with more to follow as soon as possible.

He continued with the news that the coalition government were about to debate on the subject of enlistment for, despite the number of men who’d voluntarily signed up for service, it was felt that every man between the ages of nineteen and twenty-seven would be needed to swell the ranks and defeat the enemy. The result of the debate would not be known until the House had conducted a vote. The outcome of this should be declared shortly after Christmas.

They cheered as the newsreader continued with the rousing news that the notorious enemy ship, the
Admiral Graf Spee
, had finally been hunted down by the British naval ships,
Ajax
,
Achilles
and
Exeter
. Following a fierce battle on the Rio de la Plata (the River Plate), the
Graf Spee
had been blown up and sunk. All three British ships would be returning home for repairs and a hero’s welcome.