While We're Apart (24 page)

‘I suppose so,' she murmured, still not totally convinced. The knot of tension tightened in her stomach and she pushed back from the table. ‘I think I'll just go and check on Daddy's car before I go to bed,' she said.

Barbara grasped her hand as she walked past. ‘Don't make judgements too quickly, love,' she advised softly. ‘We're all weak at times, and at least Cyril did all he could to ensure you were safe.'

Mary kissed her cheek and went to retrieve a thick raincoat and wellingtons from the boot room. She didn't want to think about Cyril or the rest of it any more tonight. Her head was aching with it and her stomach was churning so, it made her feel quite sick. She grabbed the torch, checked the batteries were working and then went outside into the dark, wet night.

Splashing through the puddles and into the barn, she closed the doors behind her and switched on the torch. The Austin 7 had been covered in a large tarpaulin, and its tyreless wheels were now supported on bricks, the springs, coils and engine heavily greased to protect it from the damp and cold. It would stay in the barn for the duration of the war, and it could be many months before she saw it again.

Mary drew back the tarpaulin and ran her fingers lightly over the lovely coachwork which was already dulled by a layer of dust. It would be a terrible wrench to leave it behind, but she had no choice.

Opening the door, she carefully climbed inside and sat behind the steering wheel. The leather seat was cool and still redolent of beeswax, and Jacob had promised to look after it while she was away. It was the memories this car evoked that finally brought her peace, and she knew that no matter what happened after tomorrow, she could always be certain that Gideon had loved her.

The rain of the previous night had petered out and as the train pulled in to Hillney station, a weak sun pierced the clouds above the South Downs to reveal a patch of hopeful blue. Mary and Barbara were tearful, each trying very hard not to show how difficult this parting was, but dearest Joseph couldn't disguise his doubts.

‘I don't know why you have to go all that blooming way,' he muttered. ‘It won't do you no blooming good, you know, girl.'

Mary gave him a hug. ‘I'll be back before you know it, Uncle Joseph.'

‘You shouldn't be blooming well going at all,' he grumbled as he released her, his dark brows lowering. ‘You watch out for them strangers, you hear?'

Mary nodded but didn't have time to reply, for Barbara had swept her into a tight embrace. ‘Any kind of trouble and you come straight home,' she said gruffly. ‘Take care, Mary love, and try to ring me as soon as you get settled.'

The stationmaster cleared his throat. ‘The young lady has to board now,' he announced. ‘Can't have me schedule mucked up.'

Mary hugged and kissed both of them, picked up her suitcase, shouldered the straps of her handbag and gas mask and climbed on to the train. Walking swiftly to a seat by the window, she pulled the leather strap and leant out.

Joseph and Barbara looked horribly forlorn standing there, and Mary was momentarily tempted to get off the train and rush back to them. But she stayed by the window, and as the stationmaster blew his whistle, she reached down for Barbara's hand. ‘I love you both,' she called above the hiss of steam and the clank of the great iron wheels that were starting to turn.

‘We love you too,' shouted Barbara as she reached the end of the platform. ‘Come home soon.'

Mary leant out as far as she dared until the train eased round a bend and she could no longer see them. She closed the window and sat down with a thump. Reaching into her pocket for her handkerchief, she caught the eye of the young woman sitting opposite her. ‘I hate goodbyes,' she said as she dried her eyes.

‘You're not alone,' the woman agreed. ‘But with a war on, it's all about saying goodbye to those we love. Ghastly, isn't it?'

Mary realised she was right, for there had been so many partings these last few weeks, and she suspected there would be a lot more before this awful war was over. She determinedly blocked out these dark thoughts and pulled herself together. She was starting a new life in a new place, and she would need to be strong and calm and completely focused on her search.

Chatting to her new companion, the journey seemed to fly past. When they had wished each other luck, Mary got off the train at the mainline station and quickly made her way down the long platform to the ticket barrier.

It was a large, bustling station, with servicemen and women rushing to catch trains or gathering in groups with their kitbags to drink tea and smoke cigarettes while they waited. Housewives carried laden baskets, office workers strode about looking frightfully important and porters trundled huge trolleys across the concourse. It was all very confusing and she had a moment of panic before she found the platform she needed. Her train to Cliffehaven was on time.

Hurrying across the vast concourse, she showed her ticket and found a seat. With her suitcase on the overhead rack, she shed her coat, scarf, beret and gloves and placed them on top. As the journey was expected to take a couple of hours, it was best to be comfortable.

As she settled by the window, she glanced around the open carriage which had seats forming two ranks on both sides with a narrow aisle in the middle. Most of the other passengers seemed to be middle-aged civilians, apart from a group of Australian soldiers who were playing a rowdy game of cards. She went bright scarlet and quickly looked away as one of them caught her watching them and gave her a wink.

As the train pulled away from the station she took a book out of her handbag and settled down to read. But the sorrow of leaving Black Briar Farm and the Bonifaces, and the realisation that she really was leaving everything she'd ever known, proved too much and she simply couldn't concentrate. She stared out of the window as the train took her through towns and villages and eventually out to marshlands and open countryside.

She'd never gone much further than ten or so miles from Harebridge, and as she looked at the farmlands and cottages, at the country lanes and hamlets, she felt a glimmer of excitement. This was what she'd wanted – an adventure – a chance to try new things and meet new people. She had to stay positive and believe she was doing the right thing – and if it proved to be anything else, then it would be a valuable experience and a lesson learned.

Peggy's sad mood following that telephone call from Vi had been lifted later that day by the glorious sight of the Cliffehaven Spitfire flying low over the beach. This had been shortly followed by the dance in the old drill hall, which had been so well attended that a good many people had ended up drinking and dancing outside, much to the warden's fury. Peggy had come home tired but happy, having been danced off her feet by numerous young men who didn't seem to mind at all that she was old enough – almost – to be their mother.

It was back to reality today, and as she finished cleaning the outside lav she eyed the newspaper squares that had been skewered on to a hook embedded in one of the upright struts. Proper lavatory paper was as rare as hens' teeth now; newspapers were collected to be pulped and made into clean paper again, and notepads and decent writing paper were things of the past. Which reminded her, she had to go to the Post Office this afternoon and get some more airgraphs. At least they only cost thruppence and weren't rationed.

She hurried back indoors to check that Daisy was still happy with her toys in her playpen. Daisy put out her arms and beamed up at her. ‘Mumumumumum,' she gurgled.

‘Oh, darling, you're trying to talk.' Peggy scooped her up and gave her a big kiss. ‘Who's a clever, clever girl then?'

Daisy gave a shriek of laughter and jiggled about in Peggy's arms as she was danced around the room in time to the music on the wireless.

‘It looks as if someone's in a good mood,' said Suzy as she came into the kitchen. ‘I wish to goodness that I was.'

Peggy quickly turned down the volume on the wireless. ‘Why? What's the matter, love?'

‘Doris.' Suzy's pretty face was suffused with pent-up anger.

‘Oh, lawks, what's she done now?' Peggy sighed.

‘She's only gone and invited the Mayor and half the town council to our wedding,' Suzy snapped. ‘Anthony and I have told her a hundred times that we don't want anyone we haven't personally invited, but will she listen? No, she goes her own sweet way and now we'll have to put up with those pompous . . .' Suzy ran out of steam.

‘Oh dear, you are cross, aren't you?' Peggy put Daisy on the floor and gave Suzy a cuddle. ‘I'm so sorry my sister is such a pain in the neck, but if the invitations have already gone out, I don't see how we can do anything about it.'

Suzy's blue eyes were bright with tears of frustration. ‘We can't. They've already accepted,' she said stonily. ‘Anthony is furious with her, but you know what she's like, she puts on her hurt-mother face, summons up the tears, and he backs down. Urrgh. I could throttle her, really I could.'

‘Yes, I've had that urge many a time,' muttered Peggy as she poured the girl a cup of very weak stewed tea. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I've got time to go round there and see if I can't find a way to sort this out.' She glanced across at Suzy. ‘That's if you want me to?'

‘Would you, Auntie Peg? Only I'm at my wits' end. It's supposed to be
our
wedding and Doris is bulldozing her way through all the arrangements and simply taking over everything.' The tears slid down Suzy's face and she angrily dashed them away. ‘She's ruining what should be the happiest time for both of us, just because she wants to show off.'

‘Right, that's it. I've heard enough.' Peggy took off her wrap-round apron and knotted headscarf. ‘Would you look after Daisy while I'm out? I should be back by lunchtime, but if not, there's enough bread and spam to do sandwiches, and you only have to heat up the vegetable soup.'

‘Are you sure about this, Auntie Peg? Only I don't want to cause any more trouble, and I can't really see what you can do about it anyway.'

‘I don't either,' Peggy admitted, ‘so I'll have to wing it, as the pilots say. But I'll do my very best.' She reached for her coat which hung on the back of the kitchen door and slipped it on. After digging in the pockets for her gloves, she gave Daisy a cuddle and a kiss and then put a comforting arm around Suzy. ‘I'll see you later.'

Peggy walked swiftly away from the house and down Camden Road. She had absolutely no idea how she would tackle her sister and put things right for Suzy and Anthony, but Doris had to be forced to realise this was not her wedding – and that through her interfering, she was turning the whole thing into a circus.

She was so deep in thought that she barely acknowledged the greetings from those in the long queues outside the shops, and as she passed the fire station, she didn't stop as she usually did to chat to Rita, who was washing down a fire engine.

As she waited to cross the High Street which ran up the hill from the seafront, she saw the cause of all the trouble between Doris and her husband, Ted. Ted's former floozy was strolling down the hill in a skirt that was too tight and too short for a woman of her girth and age. With high-heeled shoes, bleached hair, dangling earrings and a cleavage deep enough to sink a battleship, she was the epitome of everything Doris hated. And that gave Peggy an idea.

Crossing over the High Street, she hurried down Havelock Road, past the small park and the two bombed-out houses until she reached Doris's. Set back from the tree-lined road behind a high brick wall and sheltering foliage, the fine detached house stood grandly at the end of a gravel drive.

As Peggy walked to the front door, she noted that the grass had been cut, the flower borders weeded and the earth turned, and the windows had been cleaned. Doris was very big on keeping up appearances, and Peggy didn't mind betting she'd made her unwanted lodgers do the bulk of the work. She rapped the brass knocker with some vigour and stood there, rather breathless from her quick and angry walk.

The door opened and Doris regarded her with little pleasure. ‘I can guess why you're here,' she said coolly.

Peggy pushed past her and walked into the hallway. ‘Good. So you won't be surprised if I give you an earful.' She pulled off her gloves and unbuttoned her coat. ‘What
do
you think you're doing, Doris?'

‘I am organising the best possible wedding for my son,' Doris replied. ‘Not that it is any business of yours.'

‘It is when you upset my little Suzy,' Peggy retorted. ‘She and Anthony wanted a quiet wedding with just family and friends. You inviting the Mayor and the rest of them without asking their permission is completely out of order.'

‘Susan's family are extremely well connected, and I wanted them to see that at least one side of this family has friends in high places,' Doris said loftily. ‘I'm sure they wouldn't feel at all comfortable being surrounded by the likes of Rita and Fran, and that utterly disgusting old father-in-law of yours.'

Peggy's hackles rose and she itched to slap that snooty face. ‘Ron is worth ten times more than any one of those councillors,' she snapped. ‘How dare you think you're above everyone?'

‘It's not my fault that my social circle is regarded as upper class,' sniffed Doris.

‘Your social circle fell apart the minute they all found out about Ted's affair,' retorted Peggy. ‘So don't come the high and mighty with me, Doris. It won't wash.'

‘If you're going to be so aggressive, then I'd like you to leave.' Doris reached for the doorknob.

‘I'll leave when I'm good and ready and not before.'

Doris gave a dramatic sigh. ‘You'd better have your say then. But make it short. I have a committee meeting to go to.'