A Wartime Christmas (6 page)

‘Yes, there’s always a chance, Jenny,’ said Babs. ‘And when you’re issued with a billet, you have to accept it, even if it’s miles away from London. The kids
don’t even like being in Essex. They can’t wait to come home. If Eddie could find us somewhere to live round here, even if it was run down, I’d grab it.’

‘But what about the kids if the raids start again?’ asked Kay.

‘They’d have to go back to Essex.’ Babs frowned. ‘And you, Kay? Would you bring Alfie home if you could?’

Without hesitation, Kay nodded. Then she added cautiously, ‘But I’m not sure Alan would agree with me.’

‘Men don’t run on emotion like women,’ Babs agreed. ‘They’re too level-headed.’

As if her thoughts had conjured up Alan himself, Kay caught sight of a tall figure as she looked from the bus window. Alan’s black hair and upright bearing were unmistakeable. He stood
outside a pub called the Pig and Whistle, talking to a man who was carrying a newspaper.

She lifted her hand slightly as if to wave but then, with her eyes intent on the two figures, she let it drop back to her knee. Alan – her Alan – was in a place he shouldn’t
be, or at least a place he had no reason to visit, not if he was returning to the post as he’d told her. She stared at her husband, briefly obscured by passers-by, and the man, who had his
back to her and was urging Alan forward inside the pub.

Kay took a deep breath, a slight sweat breaking over her brow as she watched them disappear from sight into the interior of the Pig and Whistle. She felt she had seen a vision, her mind
wrestling with the inconsistencies of the facts she had been given by Alan and what she had just seen with her own eyes. She felt the blood draining from her face, but tried to pull herself
together. There must be an explanation, though at this moment she couldn’t think of one. Alan wasn’t a drinker, certainly not at this time of the day, though he might very occasionally
make an evening visit to the pub with a mate. But she thought she knew all of his friends; the men he worked with, the wardens at his post, their friends and neighbours in and around Slater Street.
The appearance of this well-dressed stranger just didn’t make any sense. More than that, she felt as if Alan had lied to her. The bus moved on and the pub was soon out of sight. Kay thought
again about what Alan had told her. She was certain he had said he was going to the post. So why had he gone to the Pig and Whistle instead?

‘All right, flower?’ Vi called to her. ‘You look as white as a sheet. Nothing wrong is there?’

Kay jumped and smiled quickly. ‘No, I’m fine.’ She wanted to tell Vi what she’d just seen, but somehow she couldn’t. Knowing Vi, she’d wave the incident
aside, saying Alan would tell her why he’d changed his mind in good time, so what was she getting in a state about? But Vi didn’t know just how strangely Alan had been behaving lately.
Or at least, to Vi, Alan was Alan and could do no wrong.

This last thought made Kay feel guilty. She should feel the same way too. Yet she had this unpleasant feeling inside her, desperate for a rational explanation yet unable to think of one. Kay was
still troubled by these thoughts as the bus drew to a halt at Slater Street.

Vi had sliced the bread-and-butter pudding that she had made yesterday into tiny pieces and Paul Butt had hurried back from his house with a loaf and a small wedge of cheese.
With this and an onion, Kay had managed to prepare a few decent sandwiches.

‘Lovely spread, Kay, considering you wasn’t expecting us,’ said Alice Tyler, who was a tea lady at the local brewery and had provided the tea leaves. She sat beside Jenny and
their husbands Tom and Bert stood by the fireside as if warming their backsides though it was a summer’s day and no fire was lit.

‘We couldn’t let the day end on a sad note,’ Kay said as she offered round the last of the sticky bread-and-butter pudding. ‘Madge and Howard deserve to be remembered as
the happy family they were. I don’t want my last thought to be of them in those boxes. It’s good to be able to remember them as friends and neighbours.’ She wanted to say that
they also deserved to have their own space in the graveyard, but as no one had mentioned that, she didn’t.

‘Where did Alan disappear to?’ asked Hazel Press as she and Thelma stood together with their teacups balanced daintily on their saucers.

‘He had to report to his post,’ Kay told them though she was even more worried about Alan now as it was several hours since she had since him outside the Pig and Whistle.

Just then, Vi brought in a fresh pot of tea. ‘Who’s for a top-up?’ she called and there was a ‘yes please’ from almost everyone. Kay thought that if it wasn’t
for the reason they had all gathered, this would be the first happy get-together in the street since before September last year and she deeply regretted that her husband wasn’t there to share
it.

‘Alan busy is he?’ a voice asked over her shoulder.

Kay turned to find Paul Butt beside her. He was not as tall as Alan, Kay decided, but certainly a good six foot and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. He had very penetrating blue eyes
and had combed his fair hair back in a neat short back and sides. Like his father Neville, who sat talking to Jenny Edwards, he wore a dark suit and black tie as a mark of respect. ‘Alan had
to report in to work,’ Kay said quickly. ‘Thanks for the cheese, Paul. I hope you didn’t leave yourself short.’

‘Not at all. The cheese was given to me by a girl from the yard canteen. We’re sort of seeing one another.’

‘Like that, is it.’ Kay grinned.

‘Rose and me started going out last year before the Blitz,’ he explained. ‘But I don’t know if anything will come of it. Who knows where any of us will be by the time
this war is over.’ He shook his head slowly and for the first time looked away. ‘What upset me was the weight of those coffins, which meant what was in them was . . .’ He cleared
his throat. ‘Just don’t seem right a whole family is gone in a matter of seconds.’

Kay nodded. ‘Yes, I think we all feel the same, Paul.’

Kay found herself wondering why a compassionate and warm-hearted man like Paul had never married. He had a nice way with him and couldn’t be badly off as he’d always been in work at
the steelyard. Vi had told her that Paul had had several serious relationships but he’d never settled down. He was close to his father and had been since Mrs Butt had died when Paul was
fifteen.

‘Thanks to Alan arranging the funeral, the Suttons had a decent send-off,’ Paul said quietly, then glanced at the door and smiled. ‘Here he is, an’ all, the man
himself.’

‘Sorry I’m late, love.’ Alan kissed Kay on the cheek. ‘Call of duty I’m afraid, an emergency at work.’

‘Dunno what we’d do without you rescue boys,’ shouted Eddie, a comment with which everyone loudly agreed. Alan made conversation and Kay went out to the kitchen, taking with
her the dirty crocks to pile on the draining board. She knew what Alan had told her wasn’t true.

A few minutes later he was beside her. ‘How’s my girl?’ he asked softly.

She looked up at him. ‘Have you really been to the post?’

He frowned. ‘Course I have.’

Just at that moment Babs and Eddie walked into the kitchen. ‘We’ve got to go now,’ Babs said. ‘But thanks for the lovely spread. I wish I’d been able to bring
something meself.’

Kay hugged her friend. ‘Don’t worry about that. When will we see you next?’

Babs looked tearful. Eddie slipped his arm round her as she got out her hanky again. ‘Don’t know,’ Eddie said. ‘I’m still working in the docks, but that will change
when we’re evacuated. I’ll have to start all over again.’

‘Eddie, have you thought about trying private landlords instead of the council?’ Alan suggested. ‘Some might be willing to let out their places again.’

‘No, I never thought about that,’ admitted Eddie with a frown.

‘Oh, could we try, Eddie? Before they send us away.’ Babs looked up at her husband with hope in her eyes. ‘Even if we had to pay more rent, I could give up me cleaning and get
a better-paid job. There’s lots of factory work going. Then we could bring the kids back.’

‘You and the kids are what’s important to me, Babs,’ Eddie told her sharply. ‘If we brought the kids home, I wouldn’t want you working all hours on an assembly
line. You’ve been through enough already and deserve time with the kids. But it’s true, if we stayed here, I could keep me job and maybe put in a few extra hours.’

‘I’ll ask around for you,’ Alan volunteered. ‘Drop into the post when you’ve time.’

‘I’ll take you up on that, mate.’ Eddie shook Alan’s hand hard. Kay thought there were tears in Eddie’s eyes as they left.

‘There might be a chance,’ Alan said as he raked his fingers through his hair. ‘I can see Babs ain’t coping too well.’

Kay nodded. ‘She belongs here. The island may not look much right now, but it means the world to Babs.’

‘I’ll put out some feelers,’ Alan said. ‘See what I can turn up.’

Once again, Kay’s heart filled with love for her husband who never failed to help anyone in trouble. Since they’d come to the island just after they’d married in 1938, they had
been happy living on the small horseshoe of land that stuck out into the great River Thames, known as the Isle of Dogs. It was all docklands and factories and small, winding roads crammed with
smoke-blackened houses but Kay loved it. The community was close-knit and as everyone was hard-up and in the same boat, they looked out for one another. She and Babs had become the best of friends
over the years and Kay wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. She knew Babs felt the same. ‘Alan,’ she began hesitantly, ‘I saw you from the bus this morning. You were
standing with a man outside the Pig and Whistle when you’d told me you were going back to the post.’

He sighed. ‘Oh, I’ve been rumbled, have I?’

‘What does that mean?’

‘There’s no harm in me saying now, I suppose. After you’d gone, that relative of the Suttons turned up. He claimed to be Madge’s brother.’

‘I didn’t know she had one.’

‘Neither did I. He said he’d only just found out about their deaths. He sounded genuinely choked, so I offered to buy him a drink at the nearest pub which happened to be the Pig and
Whistle.’

‘Why didn’t you tell everyone when you came in?’

‘Because he turned out to be a scrounger. All he was after was money. Wanted to know what Madge left him. Even threatened to come round and pester his late sister’s friends and
neighbours.’

‘Alan, that’s awful! The Suttons had no money.’

‘I warned him if I ever caught sight of him in Slater Street, I’d call the law. But I can tell you, I felt like knocking his block off.’ Before she could speak he drew her to
him. ‘Sorry, love, that I made you worry.’ His hands were strong and comforting and she knew she loved him so much.

‘I should have known there was a reason.’

‘I felt so angry,’ Alan admitted. ‘Madge and Howard never had two pennies to rub together. And what they did have went on their boys.’

Kay nodded. ‘Alan, I missed Alfie so much today.’

‘Me too.’

‘Let’s bring him home.’

‘But there’s always the risk of more bombing.’

‘I know. But we could wait for ever.’

He thought for a moment. ‘Tell you what. In June, if everything is as quiet as it is now, we’ll go to Hertfordshire and get him.’

‘Do you mean that?’ Kay kissed him hungrily, her world put to right again. That was all she wanted to hear.

Alan lay awake for a long time.

Kay was curled in his arms and breathing softly. He loved hearing her little sighs and his hands brought her gently against him. In her sleep she gave a contented murmur, wrapping herself into
the warmth of his body.

‘I love you, Kay Lewis, more than you could ever imagine,’ Alan whispered as he buried his face into her hair and felt its luxurious softness. She was all woman: beautiful, bright,
funny. And when it came to their antics beneath the sheets, she never held back. He smiled as he thought of their lovemaking; never once had they quarrelled and come to bed unable to resolve their
differences. They had always been physically needy and even when he was exhausted, hardly able to undress without a moan and a groan, her touch on him felt electric. No other woman had ever made
him feel this way.

Alan quickly shut his mind to the past. He couldn’t allow himself to think of his mistakes. And by God, they seemed limitless. When he’d met Kay, he’d been full of good
intentions, deciding he’d tell her everything the moment he had the chance. But that moment never came. Or, perhaps it had and he’d deliberately ignored it. By the time Kay was pregnant
and they had to get married, he’d lost his bottle. It was enough being on the wrong side of Kay’s family without having to pile all his emotional baggage onto his new wife. At least,
that was what he’d told himself then. But was he really just a coward and too dishonest to acknowledge it?

Like today when he’d had to stretch the truth about the Pig and Whistle. It had been the perfect opportunity to open up, yet he’d replaced hard reality with a better version of the
truth.
His
version. And all in the name, he assured himself, of keeping Kay happy. Like Eddie had said today about Babs, Alan thought too: the women had suffered enough. First the bloody
Blitz, then Alfie being taken from her and Kay working all hours on the factory line, then coming home to freezing cold and terrifying nights in the Anderson without him.

Alan moved his body slightly away from his wife’s as the sweat rolled over him. The sweat of a guilty man. He looked up at the ceiling, as black as tar above them. The blackout felt just
like his insides sometimes. As though he was finding his way in a darkened world that never shed any light into the corners full of booby traps. And his biggest fear was that one day, inevitably,
one of those perishers would explode right in his face.

‘Alan?’ Kay’s voice was full of sleepy confusion as she reached out for the touch of his skin.

‘I’m here, love.’

She nestled against him and he drew his fingers through her hair, kissing her forehead. Her hand tightened on his stomach, her fingertips finding the lines of his ribs and slipping down further.
Thank God, he thought, for his carnal self and the immediate desire that sparked in the pit of his belly.