The Clippie Girls (18 page)

‘Just let me get near the fire, Rose love. I’m freezing.’ As she moved into the living room, Mary added, ‘Know what, love?’

‘About Peggy and the soldier?’

Mary blinked and stared at her daughter. ‘Rose, what on earth are you talking about?’

Impatiently, Rose said, ‘Terry. He’s been here –
again –
and they’ve gone to the pictures.’

Mary frowned. ‘I see.’

‘No, I don’t think you do. What about Bob? Nobody seems to care about Bob and how he’s going to feel.’

‘You seem to care enough for all of us,’ Grace muttered.

Rose swung round on her and opened her mouth, but closed it again when she felt her mother’s warning touch on her arm.

‘I’ve told her,’ Grace went on, pretending not to have noticed Rose’s reaction, ‘that Peggy’s a big girl now and she can do what she likes.’

Rose bit her lip, stemming another outburst, promising herself that she wouldn’t tell her mother everything that Grace had said; Mary had already had to put up with remarks about her and her family living in Grace’s house for years. Rose wouldn’t add to that burden. But she’d reckoned without Myrtle.

‘Like Gran always says,’ the girl said softly, ‘it’s her house and she’s the one to say who comes into it and who doesn’t.’

Mary turned her gentle eyes on her youngest daughter, guessing exactly what had been said.

‘Haven’t you got homework to do, Myrtle?’ Rose snapped and then turned back to her mother, patting her hand. ‘I’ll get your tea, Mam.’

Myrtle trailed back upstairs, wishing she’d kept quiet. Now she wouldn’t hear any more. But she needn’t have worried; the subject as far as the three women downstairs were concerned was closed, yet it lingered in each of their minds.

Just what was Peggy thinking of?

Peggy was thinking how nice it was to have Terry’s arm around her shoulders. They were sitting in the back row of the darkened cinema, amongst all the courting couples, the only light coming from the flickering screen. Very slowly she turned her head to look at him and found him staring at her. The cinema was only about a quarter full, most unusually for a Saturday night. They’d made their way through the unlit streets, clinging to each other as they stumbled over bomb-damaged paths. Grotesque shapes loomed in the darkness; half a building left standing, furniture teetering drunkenly on sloping floors and the house next door reduced to a pile of rubble. Fitful moonlight illuminated the scene briefly and Peggy couldn’t recognize the streets she’d known so well that she could have found her way around the city centre blindfolded. But not any more. Not since Hitler’s bombers had paid them a visit. They’d headed for a cinema they’d heard was still open and now they were sitting close together in the darkness, hardly aware of the fictional romance being played out on the screen.

‘You’re lovely, Peggy,’ Terry whispered. ‘Do you know that?’ He traced the outline of her face with his finger and then leaned closer. His kiss was gentle and endearingly hesitant, not bold or demanding. Her heart felt as if it was doing somersaults in her breast and her knees trembled like a young schoolgirl experiencing her first kiss. It was not the first time Peggy had been kissed, but it was the first time she had felt like this. Now she understood what all the romantic novels talked about, what the lovers on the screen portrayed. It was the feeling she should have when Bob kissed her, but she didn’t. She had never in her life felt like this before.

Peggy put her arm around Terry’s neck and kissed him in return.

‘I won’t come in. I don’t think I’ll be very welcome.’

‘Don’t be silly. Of course you will.’

They were standing outside the front door of Peggy’s home. The night was pitch black and because there were no streetlights, not even a chink of light showing from any of the houses, they were safe from prying eyes.

‘Not by Rose. No, darling, I’ll go.’

They’d walked home through the blackout, stopping every so often to kiss and hold each other close. Words were unnecessary between them; they both knew they were falling in love and there was nothing they could do about it, even if they’d wanted to. And they didn’t.

Terry kissed her again gently and then with a growing ardour. He drew back and chuckled. ‘I really had better go.’

‘Oh, please, not yet, just another five minutes.’

He groaned and buried his face against her neck. ‘I don’t want to go at all, Peggy, but I must. I have to go back to camp tomorrow.’

‘You’ll write, won’t you?’

‘I’m not much of a letter writer, Peg. Sorry, but I hated school and bunked off as much as I could. So my learning’s not up to much.’

They lingered over their last kiss, touching hands to the very last minute until he had to go, swallowed up by the black night and leaving her bereft and feeling so alone as she turned at last to enter the house and face the recriminations of her family. His final words to her were, ‘I’ll be back, Peggy darling. I promise I’ll come back. Don’t ever doubt that, will you?’

Twenty-Two

The house was silent, the fire banked down for the night and all the lights turned off. Peggy crept upstairs to the room she shared with her mother, undressed in the darkness and slipped into her own single bed. She lay there, staring wide-eyed towards the ceiling reliving every moment of her evening with Terry. His face was in her mind’s eye; his dark hair, cut to army regulation shortness, his dark brown eyes, so soft and loving – yes, loving – and the way his whole face seemed to light up when he smiled. She could still feel his arms around her and the touch of his mouth on hers.

Sleep, when it came at last, was restless and filled with dreams of the handsome young soldier.

No one spoke at breakfast. Myrtle was a long time finishing her cereal, glancing around the table as if waiting for someone to speak, but no one did. Then she asked for a piece of toast.

Rose stared at her. ‘You never have toast.’

‘Well, I’d like some this morning. Please. It’s Sunday.’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’

‘I just thought I’d have a treat.’

Rose hacked at the loaf and almost slung the round of bread towards Myrtle. ‘Here, toast your own. The fork’s by the fire. And go easy on the butter.’

Myrtle got up from the table and went towards the range. Reaching for the toasting fork, she pinned the bread on the end and held it out towards the glowing coals.

Peggy rose from the table, went into the hall and put on the rest of her uniform before returning to say briefly. ‘Bye. I’ll see you all tonight.’

‘Bye, love,’ Mary said and Grace smiled and nodded. Pointedly Rose ignored her and turned instead to Myrtle. ‘You can do me a round of toast while you’re at it.’

As the front door closed, Mary looked up at Rose. ‘Have you got a shift today?’

Rose nodded and pursed her lips. ‘Yes, but I’ve no intention of walking to work with Peggy. Not while she’s playing fast and loose with Bob.’

‘Then,’ Grace said, standing up and beginning to clear away the breakfast pots, ‘you’d better clear the air with her tonight. I’m not having this sort of atmosphere in
my
house.’

Rose and Mary exchanged a glance, but said nothing. There was nothing they could say.

Clearing the air, as Grace had demanded, escalated into a full-blown row between the sisters that evening. Not since they’d been children and had squabbled over a toy had there been such a falling out.

‘Just what do you think you’re playing at? Going to the pictures with him. What if someone from work saw you and tells Bob?’

Peggy’s face flamed, but she stood her ground in the face of Rose’s wrath. And it was wrath; the girl was incensed. ‘Then it’ll save me the job, won’t it?’

Rose gasped. ‘You don’t mean it. You
can’t
mean it.’

‘Rose—’ Peggy reached out, but Rose leapt back as if her sister’s touch was abhorrent to her. ‘Try to understand. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m fond of Bob, of course I am. But – but I’ve fallen in love with Terry.’

‘How can you possibly say that? You’ve only seen him two or three times and—’

‘Rose – I know.’

‘You’re a hussy and a – a–’

‘Now, now,’ Grace admonished, but Myrtle’s eyes gleamed. She was sitting at the table, pretending to read, having declared it was too cold to sit in her bedroom. Now she was listening gleefully to every word.

Mary sat in her chair by the fire, her knitting lying in her lap. ‘That’s enough, the pair of you. Peggy, if you really mean what you say, then you should tell Bob yourself. That’s only fair. He shouldn’t hear rumours and gossip from anyone else.’

‘I’ve no doubt my dear sister would love to impart a juicy bit of gossip,’ Peggy said bitterly.

Rose turned pale. ‘No, I wouldn’t do that.
I
won’t be the one to hurt him. You can do your own dirty work.’ With that parting shot she flounced out of the room. They heard her footsteps running up the stairs.

‘Oh dear,’ Mary murmured, and Grace muttered, ‘Never a moment’s peace in this house with you lot.’

Peggy stood uncertainly by the table, fingering the chenille tablecloth nervously. ‘I – I suppose I should go and see him, shouldn’t I?’

‘It would be best, dear,’ Mary said with an outward show of calmness she was not feeling inside.

‘But it seems awful to tell him something like this when he’s – when he’s not fully recovered.’

‘There’ll never be a good time, love.’

‘But what if it sets him back? I’d feel awful.’

‘It’ll be worse if he hears it from someone else.’

Grace rustled her newspaper impatiently. ‘If you have something unpleasant to do, do it sooner rather than later. That’s what I always say.’

Peggy glanced worriedly at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘It’s getting late now—’

‘You’re making excuses. Just go and get it done. Then we might all have a bit of peace. Though I doubt it, with Rose in that mood.’

Still Peggy hesitated. She hated hurting people and especially someone of whom she really was very fond. She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, you’re right. I’d better go and see him. I’ll go straight from work tomorrow.’

As it turned out, she was obliged to go sooner rather than later.

‘I’ve no work for you, love,’ Laurence told her once he had greeted her and asked how she was. ‘All the routes we’ve managed to get operational again are fully manned today.’ He smiled. ‘You go back home, Peggy lass, and get a good rest while you still can. I’ll send word by Rose or Mary when there’s more work for you.’

So, Peggy had been left with no choice. She had to visit Bob.

Hester Deeton opened the door. ‘Oh, Peggy,’ she exclaimed, stretching out her hand towards her in greeting. ‘I’m so glad you’ve come. He’s been asking me to find out how you are. I wouldn’t let him come round to your house again. He was shattered by the time he got back last time. He’s so looking forward to seeing you. Come in, come in. Let me take your coat. I’ll make tea for all of us. Oh, it’s so good to see you.’

Peggy felt her heart plummet even further. This was going to be even more difficult than she’d thought. When she entered the room and Bob’s face lit up at the sight of her, Peggy’s resolve crumbled. He was sitting by the fire, a blanket over his knees, though whether this was because he really needed it or he was pandering to his mother’s fussing over him, Peggy couldn’t guess.

He held out his hand and, after a slight hesitation, she put hers into it.

‘How lovely,’ he said, smiling. ‘How are you, dear?’

Peggy’s smile was hesitant. ‘I’m fine. I went back to work for the first time yesterday, but this morning Mr Bower had nothing for me.’

Bob’s face clouded. ‘Do you think you should have even tried to go back so soon? You were hurt, to say nothing of the nasty shock.’

‘I’m fine. But you’re different. You’ll need a fair time off work, I expect.’

Bob grimaced. ‘I’ll have to do what the doctor tells me, I suppose. When it’s people’s safety at risk, they’ll have to be sure I’m fit. At least they’ve now found out for definite that I’ve not cracked my skull after all.’ He grinned. ‘Much too thick.’ He paused, searching her face, but she avoided meeting his gaze. ‘And how have you been – really? I’d hoped you might come and see me before now, because there’s something I want to ask you—’

Peggy’s heart leapt in fear. Oh no, surely he wasn’t going to propose.

She opened her mouth to tell him, to forestall him making matters even worse, but at that moment Hester came into the room carrying a tray. ‘Here we are. Tea and biscuits.’

‘Oh, thank you, Mrs Deeton.’ The woman couldn’t possibly guess that Peggy was thanking her as much for the interruption as for the welcome tea.

Peggy eased her hand from Bob’s grasp and jumped up to help. She took the tray from Hester’s hands and set it on the table.

‘You be mother.’ Hester laughed. ‘You know by now how we both like our tea.’

Peggy smiled weakly, realizing that there’d be no chance on this visit to talk to Bob alone without fear of his mother interrupting. But as Mrs Deeton saw her to the door about an hour later, she leaned forward and whispered, ‘I go round to my friend’s next door on a Tuesday night for a game of whist. If you come round tomorrow night, you can have a bit of time on your own without his old mother being in the way.’

‘Oh, Mrs Deeton, don’t—’

‘Now, now.’ The woman patted her hand. ‘I’m not so old that I can’t remember what it’s like to be young and in love.’

Peggy walked home through the blackout feeling like the very worst kind of traitor. If only, she thought, I’d realized sooner that I wasn’t in love with Bob, I’d have been honest with him and all this heartache would have been avoided. But I didn’t know. I really didn’t know. Not until I met Terry.

Twenty-Three

‘So?’ Rose demanded, almost before Peggy had got through the door.

‘No, his mother was there most of the time. There just wasn’t the right moment.’

Rose snorted. ‘There never will be the right moment.’

‘I’m going round tomorrow night. Mrs Deeton goes to her neighbour’s for the evening every week to play whist. I’ll – I’ll tell him then.’