While We're Apart (17 page)

‘And with you, Da,' Jim replied brokenly.

Ron took his son in his arms, Daisy between them, and they stood in that awkward embrace for countless minutes as they strengthened the bonds of love that bound them, and found comfort.

Peggy had taken advantage of the men's absence by scrubbing out the kitchen, cleaning the tiles on the hall floor and changing the linen on the beds. She had also plastered on a smile along with her lipstick, determined to confront the day as cheerfully as possible and not ruin Jim's last few hours at home with a long face and tears.

She'd bathed and put on her best blue woollen dress – a cast-off from her sister Doris, so therefore of fine quality – and had taken time over her hair. With a knitted cardigan over her dress for added warmth, she'd changed out of her old slippers into a pair of smart navy heeled pumps. Turning quickly away from the sight of Jim's freshly pressed uniform hanging from the wardrobe handle, the polished boots and neatly repacked kitbag on the floor beneath it, she went back into the kitchen.

Glancing at the clock, she realised Jim and Ron had been out for over two hours, and put the kettle on the hob. They'd be back soon and in need of a cuppa. It felt strange to have the house to herself, for all the girls were at work and Cordelia was out with Bertram Double-Barrel, as he'd come to be known by them all, at a morning whist drive. Unable to sit still or tolerate the silence, Peggy turned on the wireless for company, and started on the pile of ironing.

She listened to the news as she ironed the sheets and pillowcases, and was relieved that, for once, it wasn't all gloom and doom. British commandos had raided the occupied island of Sark in the Channel Islands, and the Americans had defeated a huge fleet of Japanese ships off Cape Esperance, sinking a cruiser and several destroyers. The American battle for Guadalcanal had been going on for a while now, and the loss of life had been truly awful, but this single victory had meant the Japs were thwarted in their attempts to bring even more troops on to the island.

The fighting in North Africa continued, but with Montgomery in charge, it looked as if the Germans were getting more than a taste of their own medicine. The battle for Stalingrad was still being fiercely fought, however, and although the Red Army seemed to be holding back the German Panzers, the isolated victories were minor and all too fleeting.

Peggy continued with her ironing as the news came to an end and was replaced by lively music. She hummed along to ‘A String of Pearls', remembering how she and Jim had gone dancing the other night at the Grand Hotel. It had been a magical evening, quite like old times, and they'd come home slightly tipsy and laughing like fools, to tumble into bed and make tender, sweet love and talk throughout the remains of the night.

She hastily blinked back her tears as she finished the ironing and carried it upstairs to the airing cupboard. She and Jim had forged wonderful memories during these past few days, and she wouldn't mar them with tears and regret, but count herself lucky they'd had this precious time together to reinforce the ties that bound them.

Having stowed the clean laundry away, she drifted into the bathroom to check that she hadn't smudged her mascara, then went along the landing to the empty bedroom to make sure Jim's repair to the window had stopped the rain getting in. It seemed to be holding, for there were no puddles on the windowsill now, so she turned from the window and tugged fussily at the bedspread.

Kitty Pargeter had slept in here while she recovered from the horrific plane crash that had resulted in her leg amputation. She was married now and back in her beloved planes with the ATS, ferrying them to all corners of Britain, while her husband, Roger, continued to fly his Spitfires under Martin's command.

Peggy sat down on the bed and stared unseeing out of the window that looked over the garden and the twitten between the houses. Once Suzy and Anthony were married in December they would move into their tiny cottage, and Fran would move out of the double room she and Suzy shared into Cissy's single. There was little point in jealously keeping it unoccupied for Cissy rarely came home now – and then only for a fleeting visit, as she'd done last night.

Peggy gave a deep sigh. She should have notified the billeting office of this empty room, but had held off until Jim's leave was over and she could think straight again. She'd been rather selfish, really, she thought, what with so many people needing a roof over their head, but somehow she couldn't find the energy to deal with anyone new and the problems they would no doubt bring with them.

She continued to stare out of the window to the roofs of the terraces that climbed the hill behind the house as her thoughts drifted. There were so many brave youngsters fighting this war – just as there had been in the first conflict. Yet she knew the battles weren't just being fought on the land, the sea, or in the skies, but also here on the home front by the women left behind.

Cissy drove for the WAAF, and young Rita, whose father hadn't made it home on leave since he'd joined the army, had become an intrinsic part of the local firefighting service. Both girls were in love with pilots, and although they never voiced their fears, Peggy had seen it in their eyes every time the planes took off from Cliffe.

Anne's fear for Martin's safety had been eased somewhat now he'd been ordered not to fly any more and was mainly behind a desk, but airfields weren't the safest places to be at the moment and their enforced parting was beginning to wear her down – especially as she was expecting her second baby any day now.

As for Jane and Sarah, they were both doing their bit, but they were very far from their home in Malaya, and still had to cope with the fact they'd heard no news of their father, or Sarah's fiancé, since the fall of Singapore. Fran and Suzy were kept busy at the hospital, and although Suzy was happily organising her wedding, and Fran put on a show of cheerful cheekiness, Peggy knew both girls were homesick at times and missing their families – especially Fran, for journeys to Ireland were now forbidden, and she wouldn't be able to get home until this blasted war was over.

Peggy sighed and thought about her own struggles to feed everyone now money was so tight and the shelves in the shops were almost bare. The long queues waiting outside every shop were exhausting, the lack of even the most basic things was frustrating, and the constant air-raid warnings and hours spent in the horrid Anderson shelter had taken their toll. And then there was the overwhelming yearning for her children and her husband that would catch her unawares and bring her low.

‘Now I have to go through the agony of seeing him off again,' she murmured into the silence. She could already picture the scene at the station, and knew exactly how she would feel when his train became a speck on the horizon and she would have to return home to an empty bed and the debilitating uncertainty of when they might be together again.

Peggy got off the bed, straightened the cover and went over to the window. She would
not
give in to such thoughts. They made her cry and she had to keep calm, remember how difficult it was to get mascara these days, and try to look her best so that Jim never guessed how hard this latest parting was for her.

Yet, as she looked down to the twitten, she really had to battle to keep her tears at bay. Jim and his father were embracing, not ashamed of their tears or their love for one another as they stood in full sight of the back windows of the two terraces.

Peggy watched as they slowly drew apart, their hands clasped as they talked. Then Ron's large, rough hand was softly patting Jim's cheek and ruffling his hair, just as he'd done when he was a boy.

Peggy turned from the window, not wanting to be seen intruding on such a private and deeply personal moment. She pulled her frail emotions together as she went downstairs to the kitchen to boil the kettle again, and was composed and dry-eyed by the time Jim and Ron followed Harvey into the room.

‘Well,' she said brightly, ‘it's about time. I thought you'd both got lost up there.' She lifted a gurgling Daisy out of the satchel and, giving her a hug and kiss, began to divest her of the thick woollen cardigans, hat and mittens.

‘I've never been lost up there in me life,' grumbled Ron as he dug about in the pockets of his long, heavy coat and dumped the four dead rabbits on the draining board.

Peggy finished with Daisy and after giving her another kiss, put her on the floor so she could crawl about and play with her toys. She was beginning to be sick of the sight of rabbit, but at least it meant they would have a proper meal tonight before Jim left.

Jim set the bag aside and shed his coat and scarf before turning to Peggy with a broad grin. ‘To be sure, Peggy girl, you're looking beautiful today,' he said as he wrapped his arms round her, lifted her off her feet and smudged her lipstick with a smacking kiss.

Peggy giggled. ‘It's amazing what a bit of make-up will do. Now, put me down, and I'll find some biscuits to go with the tea. You must both be parched.'

Harvey nudged her with his nose to remind her that he usually had tea and biscuits after a walk, and Peggy patted his head. ‘Did you enjoy the walk?' she asked Jim.

‘Aye, it's a pretty day up there,' he replied as he eased off his boots. ‘The auld man had a bit of a struggle to keep up with me, mind,' he added, shooting Ron an impish wink.

Ron tried to glower, but failed. ‘Aye, well, at my great age I've found it better to take things at a steady, dignified pace,' he said airily. He began to gut the rabbits. ‘I was hoping to bring back some birds today, but with that new gamekeeper on the Cliffe estate and all that fencing the Land Army has put up, there wasn't a chance to get anywhere near them.'

‘Ron, take those boots off and put the ferrets in their cage before you do that,' said Peggy with more than a hint of asperity. ‘I washed that floor only a while ago, and if the ferrets escape your pockets, I'm in no mood to go chasing after them all over the house.'

Ron heaved a great sigh and, leaving a mess of entrails, blood and fur on the drainer, went muttering to himself down the cellar steps.

Peggy shuddered at the gruesome sight, and opened the biscuit tin only to discover it was all but empty. ‘Have you two been at this?' she asked Jim.

Jim's eyes widened in innocence. ‘Now, would we do such a thing, Peg?'

Peggy chuckled. ‘You know damned well you would, you scallywag,' she said fondly as she gave Harvey the last few morsels. ‘If you want any more,' she told Jim, ‘then you'll have to go and queue for them.'

‘Ach, I'll not be wasting me last day at home in a queue of gossiping housewives,' he retorted as he pulled her on to his lap. ‘I've got a much better idea of how to pass the time.'

She saw the gleam in his eyes and, as always, her body responded to it. ‘Perhaps a bit later,' she murmured as she heard Ron clumping along the cellar floor towards the steps.

‘I'll hold you to that,' he whispered against her ear.

She hastily kissed his cheek, and was standing by the sink when Ron stomped back up the steps in his disreputable socks.

The day seemed to fly past, and although they'd managed to go to bed for an hour while Daisy had her afternoon nap, it wasn't long before everyone had come home and filled the house with noise and laughter.

The evening meal was over, the dishes being washed and put away by the girls while Ron fed Harvey the scraps and Cordelia settled down to untangle her knitting by the fire. Peggy had left them to it and was now back in their bedroom, Daisy chirruping and trying to pull herself up on the rails of her cot as Jim reluctantly got dressed in his uniform.

‘It feels stiff and awkward after a week in civvies,' he said, his smile not quite as broad as usual. ‘But at least the boots are well worn in and very comfortable.'

Peggy sat on the bed watching him trying to put on a brave face and not show the emotions she knew were in turmoil just beneath the surface. ‘That's good considering all that marching you have to do,' she managed.

Jim fastened the button at his waist and adjusted his shirt collar and tie. ‘There won't be much marching where I'm headed,' he replied as he reached for his hairbrush.

Peggy saw how his hand trembled and quickly reached to take it in her own. ‘Remember it's the adventure you've always wanted, Jim,' she said softly. ‘And before you know it, you'll be home again.'

He turned from the dressing table and drew her into his arms. ‘I love you, Peg,' he murmured against her lips. ‘Promise me you'll take care of yourself and not leave out the important things in your letters.'

‘Of course I will,' she replied. ‘But it'll be difficult to write much on those silly little airgraphs, and I still don't really understand why I can't send you a proper letter.'

He reached for the stack of slips he'd piled on the top of the chest of drawers. ‘It's to save room and weight on the aircraft,' he told her. ‘You write this, it's photographed on a huge roll of film along with thousands of others and sent abroad. When it arrives at the other end, people will develop the film and send each message to where it has to be.'

‘That's all very clever,' said Peggy with a sigh, ‘but it means that even more people can read every word we write to each other.'

Jim smiled and gave her a hug. ‘I doubt they'll bother. There are millions of these things going round the world and there simply wouldn't be time to snoop.'

Peggy still wasn't really convinced, but she didn't want to waste these precious moments arguing about something she had no hope of changing. ‘You will write regularly, won't you?' she asked as he pulled on his khaki jacket and fastened the Sam Browne belt.

‘Aye, I'll write every day, and tell you about all the wonders I'll be seeing. 'Tis a long sea journey to India, and we'll probably stop off in some exotic ports on the way.'