While We're Apart (13 page)

‘I got a gaaaaal in Kalamazoo, zoo, zoo,' trilled Cordelia, out of tune, as her favourite song came on the wireless. ‘Ooh, I am looking forward to the party,' she said as she washed her hands in the sink.

‘I take it that means Bertram has accepted your invitation.' Peggy smiled at her.

‘He certainly has,' she replied, ‘and he's promised to teach me how to butterjug.'

‘You mean jitterbug,' laughed Peggy as she rounded up a crawling Daisy who was intent on inspecting the coal scuttle, which Ron had left on the wrong side of the fireguard. ‘I think that's a bit ambitious, and best left to the young ones,' she added.

Cordelia pulled a face. ‘Bertram and I can cut a rug as well as any youngster,' she retorted. ‘You wait and see.'

‘Lord help us,' muttered Peggy, who had visions of an overexcited Cordelia doing herself serious damage.

She carried the squirming, protesting Daisy to the sink and washed her hands and face clean of jam, flour and coal dust. There wasn't much to be done about her filthy clothes, but as it would soon be time for her bath and then bed, it didn't really matter.

The back door slammed and Harvey raced into the kitchen, shot his nose up Cordelia's skirt, licked Daisy who was now sitting on the floor, and then put his great paws on the table to sniff at the covered food.

‘Get down,' shouted Peggy as she quickly hauled on his collar. ‘Don't you dare touch a thing, you great lump, or I'll have your guts for garters.'

Harvey slunk off and showed how hurt he was by this unreasonable threat with a grunt of despair and a deep sigh of martyrdom as he collapsed before the fire.

‘To be sure that's a fine welcome after a long hard day,' said Jim in mock protest as he staggered up the concrete steps and into the kitchen, laden with beer crates. He dumped them on the floor so they were in everyone's way, then swooped to pluck up Daisy before he gathered Peggy into his arms. ‘Have my girls missed me?' he asked as he gave them both sloppy kisses.

‘Oof,' protested Peggy as she wafted away beer fumes. ‘You've clearly been having the time of your lives while Cordelia and I have been slaving away here.'

‘Ach, Peggy girl, it was a great craic, so it was. Fred and Alf popped in, then Stan arrived during the lull between trains, and . . .'

‘All right, I get the picture,' she said with a giggle. Then she caught sight of Ron, who was surreptitiously looking beneath the cloth on the table. ‘Don't you
dare
,' she snapped.

Ron snatched his hand away, his eyes wide with innocent hurt. ‘I was only looking,' he complained. ‘To be sure that is a fine spread there, Peggy, and it seems to me there's enough to feed an army. Surely one little sandwich wouldn't be missed?'

‘It would,' she replied sternly as she tucked the cloth firmly round the plates. ‘And if you and Jim had come back at lunchtime, you wouldn't be hungry now.'

‘I told you that men were no use in a kitchen,' piped up Cordelia.

Peggy pointed at the beer crates. ‘The pair of you can take those into the dining room while I make a pot of tea to sober you up.'

‘'Tis a terrible burden living in a house of women,' grumbled Ron as he staggered a bit and almost fell over the crates he was attempting to lift.

‘Aye,' nodded Jim as he placed Daisy carefully in her high chair. He straightened up and swayed on his feet. ‘But 'tis far worse in the army, Da. Our sergeant major can outboss my Peg any day of the week – and that's saying something.' He shot her a soppy smile and hiccuped.

Cordelia giggled and Peggy failed miserably to look cross. ‘Get away, the pair of you,' she said in exasperation. ‘And after you've drunk your tea, you can wash and change and have a shave before our guests arrive.'

‘Are ye sure that sergeant major's worse than Peg?' muttered Ron as he and Jim weaved their way out of the kitchen and across the hall to the dining room. ‘Cos it strikes me she could give old Hitler a run for his money and no mistake.'

Father and son thought this was hilarious and were chortling like schoolboys as they tottered into the dining room and out of sight. Peggy turned from the kitchen doorway and was smiling too, for it was as if Jim had never been away.

Two hours later, and after a bit of a struggle to get into her corset, Peggy was sitting in her dining room in her best frock, thinking how lucky she was. The table was positively groaning with the weight of food, for everyone had brought something. Now there were plates of biscuits, a trifle, two jellies, a box of crystallised fruit Alf's wife, Lil, had unearthed from the back of a cupboard, and a bread and butter pudding.

The level of noise was rising as the men huddled in the corner by the beer and told tall tales, while the women chattered like starlings and Harvey lay close to the table waiting for anything that might drop to the floor. Everyone was here but for Cissy and Peggy's son-in-law Martin, and she could only hope there wasn't a flap on at Cliffe airfield which would put a damper on things and stop them from coming.

Peggy noted that Cordelia's colour was quite high as she sipped sherry and excitedly watched everything going on around her. She was chatting to Enid the fishmonger's wife, who was splendidly arrayed in a deep purple two-piece. Cordelia looked lovely in a white blouse with a cameo brooch at the neck, and a smart navy skirt – no doubt in order to impress Bertram, who'd arrived looking very dapper in a beautifully cut suit with a sprig of heather in the buttonhole, and a large bottle of gin under his arm.

Peggy's gaze travelled to Jane, Sarah and Fran, who were youthfully pretty in colourful frocks and cardigans, their hair freshly washed for the occasion. Suzy, glamorous in her little black dress and pearls, was radiant as she looked up into Anthony's face. Anthony was wearing his usual tweed jacket with the leather elbow patches, and corduroy trousers, his hair flopping over his eyes as his horn-rimmed spectacles repeatedly slipped down his nose.

Rita, Peggy noticed with approval, had changed out of her usual tomboyish clothes into the very fetching blue dress she'd borrowed from Sarah, and a pair of low-heeled pumps. With her dark hair and eyes, olive skin and just a touch of make-up, she was turning into a real beauty. She was in animated conversation with Pilot Officer Matthew Champion who appeared to Peggy to be far too young to be doing what he did, but was extremely dashing in his RAF uniform. They were clearly besotted with one another, and Peggy could only pray that nothing spoilt their happiness.

‘They make ever such a lovely couple, don't they?' said Ruby as she sat down next to Peggy and lit a cigarette.

Ruby came from the East End and had been Peggy's lodger earlier in the year. Now she lived with her mother, Ethel, in a rented bungalow on the northern borders of Cliffehaven, close to the tool factory where she worked.

Peggy nodded, aware that Ruby's young Canadian was still recovering from the life-changing injuries he'd sustained in the Dieppe raid. ‘How's Mike? Are things a bit better between you now?'

‘Yeah,' she replied happily. ‘He's over all that nonsense of not wanting me about the place, and although he's still got to come to terms with losing his sight in one eye, he's put in a request to stay here in England and take up an army desk job.'

‘Oh, Ruby, I am pleased.'

‘Well it ain't all sorted yet, but his commanding officer is hopeful. We'll know tomorrow after the powers that be have their conflab.'

Peggy patted her hand in consolation, for she knew that if Mike was refused the posting here, it would mean him being sent back to Canada – and it simply wouldn't be possible for Ruby to go with him. ‘I'll keep my fingers crossed that everything turns out all right,' she murmured. ‘Speaking of which,' she added with a smile, ‘Ethel and Stan seem to be getting on like a house on fire. I bet she's glad she got out of Bow.'

‘Not 'alf.' Ruby grinned as she watched the portly stationmaster and her mother laughing together. ‘She's 'aving the time of her life, what with bungalow and Stan and a decent wage at the factory.'

‘She certainly looks well on it – and so does Stan by the width of his girth,' Peggy commented wryly.

‘Yeah,' Ruby agreed. ‘Some might say he's a bit old for 'er, him being in his sixties an' all, but he's a lovely bloke, and what does it matter anyhow? Live while you can, that's what I say.'

Peggy was about to reply when Cissy came running into the room and threw herself into her father's embrace. ‘Da, I'm sorry I'm late, but we got a puncture,' she explained after she'd kissed him and been swung round in his arms.

‘Ach, to be sure wee girl, you're looking quite magnificently grown up, so y'are,' he told her as he put her back on her feet and admired the dark blue uniform that enhanced her shapely figure and emphasised the colour of her eyes.

Then he saw Martin coming in and went to shake him vigorously by the hand. ‘Good to see you, son,' he said. ‘Glad you could make it.'

Peggy laughed in delight as Cissy rushed over to hug her. ‘It's so lovely to see you, darling,' she breathed. ‘It feels like ages since your last visit.'

‘I hope you don't mind, Mum, but I've brought a friend with me.' Cissy blushed to the roots of her blonde hair as she turned to draw forward a tall, dark-haired pilot who'd been left standing rather awkwardly in the doorway. ‘This is Flight Lieutenant Randolph Stevens. He's with the USAF on secondment at Cliffe,' she said breathlessly.

Peggy's hand was engulfed in a firm clasp, and as she looked into his face she saw brown, serious eyes, a long straight nose, clear skin, a well-defined mouth – and of course wonderful teeth. ‘Pleased to meet you, I'm sure,' she stammered.

‘Thank you, ma'am. It's a great honour to be invited to your party, and I hope you will accept these little gifts by way of appreciation.'

Peggy gasped as he opened the large bag he'd been carrying and drew out a bottle of whisky, four pairs of nylons, a box of chocolates, several packets of chewing gum and a whole carton of cigarettes. ‘Goodness me,' she smiled. ‘How very generous, but there was no need, really. We're just delighted you could come.'

‘Don't be daft, Mum,' muttered Cissy as Randolph and his whisky bottle were carted off by the other men. ‘Randy has found it hard to settle here, and this is the first time he's ever been invited to someone's house. He just wants to show how grateful he is that at last an English family wants to befriend him.'

Peggy was startled by this. ‘Really? But I thought everyone was only too delighted to have them over here and on our side – especially all you girls.'

‘That's half the trouble,' Cissy replied as she sat down and took a sip of her mother's gin. ‘Our boys get jealous of all the attention the Yanks get from the girls, and because they seem to have an endless supply of luxuries which they distribute like confetti, some see it as showing off, or trying to buy people's affections.'

‘Oh dear, is it really as bad as that?' Peggy looked across at the young American. ‘And he seems to be a very nice boy, too,' she sighed.

‘You've heard the phrase, overpaid, oversexed and over here? Well, that's just jealousy,' Cissy continued. ‘The Americans are very polite and clean-cut, and frankly rather bemused by the adverse reaction to them being here.'

Peggy thought of how upset Fran had been when her American had turned out to be married, and the father of several children. With men like that in their ranks, no wonder their reputations were sullied.

Cissy must have read her thoughts. ‘I know what happened to Fran was simply ghastly, but they're not all rats, Mum,' she said softly. ‘Randy's as honest as the day is long, and the sweetest man I could ever hope to meet. I feel as if I've known him for years, and I would trust him with my life.'

Peggy looked into her starry eyes, saw the glow of happiness in her face, and realised that Cissy had at last found someone she really did love. ‘I'm sure he's lovely,' she said, ‘and if he makes you happy, then I'm happy.'

‘Oh, he does, Mum. Really he does.' Cissy kissed her cheek and hurried off to rescue Randy from her father, who was regaling him with yet another tall tale of his life in the British army.

Peggy saw the boy smile down at her daughter, and watched him fetch her a drink and make sure she was comfortably seated. He had eyes only for her and was charming and attentive, and Cissy was clearly head over heels, but Peggy feared for her daughter. Cissy had fallen in and out of love since she was sixteen, and the heightened pressure and excitement of wartime fed her lust for life. She could only hope it didn't all end in tears, as it had done before.

Her anxious thoughts were broken by the sound of the music coming from the gramophone, and Jim's warm hand drawing her to her feet.

‘Dance with me, darlin',' he murmured as the hypnotic Latin rhythm of ‘Begin the Beguine' filled the room.

Peggy moved into his embrace and rested her cheek against his chest as Ella Fitzgerald's smoky, enticing voice eased them into a slow tango. She was where she belonged, and she had no need to worry about anything or anyone while she was held so lovingly in her husband's arms.

THAT MONDAY MORNING
dawned cold and bleak, the night's rain dripping from the trees and lying in puddles in the rutted lanes and fields – but at least it had finally dispelled the stench of smoke that had hung in the air for days.

Mary had dreaded this dawn, and after a disturbed night's sleep she'd finally dragged herself out of bed and begun to prepare for the ordeal ahead. She'd managed, so far, to avoid going to the other end of the village, unable to face the devastation of her home and church, and the stark reminder of all that had happened there. But today there was to be no escape.