While We're Apart (9 page)

They'd been too lost in their own private little world to take much notice of the sounds outside their bedroom door as the others came back from the pub, and Peggy was surprised to see that the bedside clock showed it was now almost midnight.

She tenderly traced Jim's face with her fingers as she looked into his eyes. Her heart was full now he was finally home, and she was determined to treasure every precious minute. ‘I do love you, Jim,' she whispered, ‘and I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the op earlier. But I didn't have to struggle on my own, really I didn't.'

His warm hand gently stroked her shoulder. ‘I just wish I hadn't been so far away,' he murmured.

Peggy had wished that too, but there was a war on, Jim was in the army and as there had been absolutely nothing she could do about it, there was little point in turning it into a drama. She snuggled into his embrace. ‘The girls and Cordelia were wonderful, and of course your father was an absolute brick – especially after Doris moved in and tried to take over.'

‘Your sister moved in here?' He shifted his head on the pillow and looked at her in shock. ‘Since when does the snooty Doris deign to put one of her dainty, expensively shod feet over my doorstep?'

Peggy giggled softly and told him how Doris had discovered that her husband, Ted, had been conducting a long affair with a rather blowsy woman who worked for him on the fish counter at the Home and Colonial. She went on to describe the run-ins Doris had had with the girls, Cordelia and Ron as they'd tried to get her to leave – and how Harvey had done his bit for the cause by constantly sticking his nose up her sister's skirt.

Jim looked astonished. ‘You never wrote to me about any of this.'

‘I couldn't really,' she admitted. ‘Not without telling you about my op and everything.'

‘So what happened?' His eyes suddenly widened in alarm. ‘She's not still living here, is she?'

Peggy smiled and shook her head. ‘It got to the stage where we thought she'd never leave. But Anthony rescued us by persuading her to return home where he could look after her. Ted ditched the floozy and moved into a flat above the shop, and has almost been forgiven. Doris now lets him visit for his tea three times a week.'

‘Who'd have thought it,' said Jim in awe. ‘I never suspected Ted had it in him to have an affair – let alone have the guts to admit it to the fearsome Doris. He's a brave man, so he is, and if I see him while I'm home, I'll buy him a drink.'

‘Mind how you go, Jim,' Peggy warned. ‘Doris is still prickly about the scandal it caused, and if she hears you're siding with Ted, it could upset the apple-cart and spoil things for Anthony. He and Suzy are keeping their fingers crossed that things will have settled down by Christmas so they don't disrupt the wedding.'

They held each other while they collapsed into stifled giggles, aware of the sleeping baby, but comfortable and snug with each other in this cocoon of soft light and downy blankets.

‘I still can't believe you went through all that without telling me,' Jim murmured eventually. ‘But I'm relieved that you're all right.' Laughter bubbled up again as he kissed the top of her head. ‘Mind you, we can have some fun and not worry about you falling for another bairn. Five is quite enough to be going on with, and I don't think my army pay will stretch much further.'

Peggy said nothing as she curled into him, for he could never understand how sad she was that her child-bearing years were over. The signs that she was already going through the change were not something to discuss with a man, even if he was her husband, but they meant she was no longer young, and at times she found that rather depressing.

He seemed to sense her sadness. ‘You are all right about it, aren't you, Peg?' he asked.

‘Of course I am,' she replied with a spark of false brightness. ‘I've got five children to worry about already, and with Daisy still in nappies, I simply couldn't cope with any more.'

‘Well, you do have a houseful of people to look after – and that's enough even for you. It's probably for the best.'

Peggy knew he was right, but she still mourned the passing of her youth. Not wanting to dwell on such things at this happy time, she nestled her face into the lovely warm spot on his neck. ‘That's enough talk for now,' she murmured as she playfully ran her fingers over the dark hairs on his chest and hooked a leg over his thigh. ‘I'm feeling frisky again.'

Jim didn't respond to this in the way she'd expected. He went still, and then instead of returning her overtures, he moved back from her. ‘Peggy,' he began hesitantly. ‘Seeing how this is the time for confessions, there's something I need to tell you.'

Peggy's sensual mood disappeared and she was suddenly tense with fear. Jim was a handsome man, liked the company of pretty women, and enjoyed more than his fair share of flirting. Being so far from home, and in the company of men who might lead him astray, he was open to all sorts of temptations. She'd determinedly cast off any doubts as to his fidelity, but these were different, dangerous times and flattery could go to a man's head. Yet now all those doubts and fears returned with a vengeance.

‘Go on,' she managed through a tight throat.

‘I've been given eight days' leave, two of which will be spent travelling unfortunately, which was why I was able to wangle a lift on an army transport plane and get down here a bit early.'

He paused, clearly searching for the right words, and Peggy's tension grew as she wondered where on earth this was leading.

‘It's a special leave, Peggy, because once it's over the army is sending me overseas.'

Peggy shot out of his embrace and stared at him in horrified disbelief. ‘No, they can't,' she whispered fiercely. ‘You did your bit in the last war, and you're too old to go off fighting.'

He shot her a wry grin. ‘Thanks for reminding me of that, Peg – not that I need it. I feel my age every time we're sent over that torturous obstacle course.'

Icy fingers seemed to be crawling up her spine. ‘Where are they sending you, Jim?'

‘I'm not supposed to say,' he replied with a teasing smile.

Peggy jabbed him hard in the ribs. ‘You'd better, or I'll beat it out of you,' she retorted.

Jim took a deep breath. ‘I'm going to somewhere in the Far East,' he said.

‘But that's where the Japs are!' She was chilled to the soul and fighting to keep back her tears as she thought of the terrible battles being fought on the other side of the world. ‘Where, exactly, in the Far East?'

‘India,' he replied as he reached for her hand.

‘India?' she breathed. ‘But the Japs are crawling all over India. It isn't safe.'

His fingers gripped hers as his expression became solemn. ‘I won't be fighting, Peg. I'll be in charge of a motor pool for our combined services, repairing and servicing the trucks, jeeps, ambulances, and so on.'

As she stared at him through her unshed tears he drew her towards him and kissed her trembling lips. ‘I'll be miles away from any action, I promise.'

‘But you don't know that for sure, Jim. The army could send you anywhere.' She had a terrifying vision of jungles and sweltering heat, and her imagination took flight. ‘There'll be snakes and spiders and horrible diseases you could catch – and that's without the danger of the Japs coming at you out of the jungle.'

He gave a soft chuckle. ‘We'll be miles from any front line, and the army has an excellent medical service. We've already been put on special medicines to ward off malaria and suchlike.'

Peggy could only stare at him in horror, for she was still in shock and remained unconvinced.

Sensing this, Jim continued to reassure her. ‘You know me, Peg. I'll find a cushy number like I always do, and stay well away from any trouble. Colonel Grafton is coming with us, and I'm well in enough with him after driving him about and servicing his car to wangle something.'

Peggy couldn't bear it any longer. She threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.

MARY SIMPLY COULDN'T
blot out the awful images that haunted her, and although Dr Haywood had given her something to help her to sleep, and she was snug and warm beneath the soft blankets and eiderdown in one of Barbara's voluminous winceyette nightdresses, she lay awake in the darkness of the unfamiliar bedroom for many hours after she'd heard Joseph returning from fighting the fire.

Mary had seen enough of the inferno to know that it had destroyed everything she'd deemed precious – and even though she'd recently longed to escape the strictures of her domestic life and her mother's cruel tongue, she'd cried bitter tears for the loss of both parents and the only home she'd ever known. The knowledge that she would never again talk to her kind and gentle father, and had lost any hope of hearing the words of love she'd so longed for from her mother, was unbearable, for she hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye.

As her tears finally dried and the initial shock and horror of what she'd witnessed slowly ebbed, reason took over, and she realised that even if she had been there, she couldn't have saved them, for she too would have perished. Yet the guilt remained, for she'd deceived them during the final hours of their lives, and it was too late to ask for forgiveness.

She must have finally fallen asleep, for when she next opened her eyes it was to the sound of a ringing telephone, clattering milk pails and the tramp of booted feet on cobbles beneath her window. Disorientated momentarily by the unusual noises, she sat up in bed and tried to figure out where she was. And then, with blinding clarity, she remembered.

Mary felt the loss weighing heavy on her heart as the tears ran hotly down her face and she sank back into the pillows. Pulling the covers over her, she muffled her sobs, curling into her grief, unable to contemplate a new day without her parents or her home – or anything that she'd once considered to be set in stone.

The door creaked and light footsteps entered. ‘Oh, Mary,' sighed Barbara as she perched on the side of the bed, drew back the covers and stroked her hair. ‘Come on, love, you don't have to grieve alone.'

Mary flung herself into Barbara's motherly embrace and held on to her tightly as sorrow overwhelmed her. ‘I never had time to tell them I loved them,' she sobbed. ‘I didn't even go up to see Mother after we got home from Mrs Perry's, and the last words we had were angry and bitter, and I resented her for not loving me – for calling me names and . . .'

Barbara held her until the storm of tears was over, rocking her as if she was a small, injured child, murmuring soft words of comfort. ‘There, there, Mary, it's all right, really it is. Your father knew you loved him as he loved you, and your mother . . . Well, she had her own way about her, but I'm sure that deep down she did love you – she just found it hard to show it, that's all.'

‘But I sneaked out to meet Jack at the station,' Mary gulped, ‘and Daddy forbade me to go and thought I was safe in bed. I was going to tell him today and hoped he'd forgive me. Now it's too late.'

‘Mary, you mustn't punish yourself thinking like that. You're a young girl, and in love. Of course you wanted to see our Jack off, and I'm sure your father would have come to understand why you disobeyed him.' Barbara gently extricated herself from Mary's arms, turned on the bedside light and gave her a handkerchief. ‘Dry your eyes, love,' she said as she tenderly smoothed back the dark hair from the hot, tear-streaked face.

Mary did so, and then leant her cheek into that caressing hand, taking strength and courage from the knowledge that someone understood and cared. ‘I'm sorry to be such a cry-baby,' she managed through the lump in her throat.

‘You have absolutely nothing to apologise for,' said Barbara firmly. ‘Tears are necessary and healing at a time like this.' Her broad, homely face wrinkled into a sweet smile. ‘Goodness me, Mary, I've known you since you were a little girl. And with you and Jack being so close, you're as dear to me as a daughter, so you must never feel you're any kind of nuisance.'

The lovely sentiment comforted Mary, making her feel suddenly safe – but then she remembered the troop train and the enemy bombers. She was about to ask if there'd been news, yet quickly held back. Barbara might not have realised the danger Jack had been in last night, and she didn't want to upset her. ‘I expect Jack will ring when he gets to the training camp,' she said instead.

‘Oh, he already has,' Barbara replied brightly as she adjusted her apron over her well-upholstered bosom. ‘That was him just a while back, from some telephone box in the middle of the moors. He arrived safely, but he said the journey was a bit hairy, because shortly after they'd left Hillney they were dive-bombed by Stukas. There was no damage done, and after a lot of stopping and starting they made camp at three this morning.'

The relief was immense, and Mary sagged back against the pillows. ‘I was so afraid for him – for all those boys,' she said. ‘I saw the bombers following the tracks as I was on my way home and thought . . .'

‘Now don't go fretting over Jack,' soothed Barbara. ‘He's absolutely fine, and told me to tell you he loves you and wishes he could be with you. And that he'll write the first chance he gets.'

‘Does he know about . . .?'

Barbara nodded and quickly handed Mary a cup of tea from the tray she had brought in with her, before the tears started again. ‘Drink your tea and eat the toast, then have a bath. I know it's still dark outside, but we start our days very early here.'

Mary nodded, and found that the tea did restore her spirits a little. ‘Where are my clothes?' she asked, for there were only her shoes by the chair.

‘Your coat is in the boot room, and I've washed everything else,' said Barbara. ‘But I've dug out some bits and pieces which I think will fit you. I put them in the bathroom, which you'll find down the landing on your left.' She gave a wry smile as she ran her work-roughened hands over her plump hips. ‘They certainly don't fit me any more, but at least they'll serve a purpose until your other things are dry and we can sort you out something better.'