The Clippie Girls (43 page)

‘We’ll go tonight after tea.’

‘I’ll see to the washing up. And you could make the excuse you’re going round to see Mrs Deeton, Rose. But what about you, Myrtle?’

‘I’ve got a bit of reading to do before we have to attend some theory classes tomorrow, but I can do that in bed.’

Grace nodded.

The three of them were unusually silent over the tea table, but it didn’t seem to matter. Freddie was fractious and was taking the attention of both Peggy and Mary.

‘I think he must be teething. Look how red his poor cheek is.’

A little later Rose and Myrtle were able to leave the house without anyone even asking where they were going.

‘Phew! That was lucky, though I wouldn’t wish pain on the little man,’ Rose said as they hurried up the street towards the nearest tram stop. This time they hadn’t the time or the inclination to walk to the street where the Prices lived.

‘D’you think we should try to see Mr Parkin first?’

‘No – we’re taking the bull by the horns. And if either of those two girls tells us he’s not there, well, we know different now, don’t we? Come on, Myrtle, best foot forward.’

When the tram pulled to a halt, they were surprised to see Laurence Bower on a seat near the rear of the car.

‘This young feller’s in training,’ Laurence said. ‘He can’t join up because of a heart condition, so I’ve just got to make sure he’s up to this job.’

The young man was fair-haired, thin and a little pale. Rose smiled at him as Laurence made the introductions. Then the inspector asked, ‘How’s your mam? I haven’t seen her as I’ve been out all day.’

‘She’s fine. Day off tomorrow for her.’

Laurence nodded. ‘Me too. I think we’re taking a trip into Derbyshire if the weather’s good – though it might be a little cold.’

Rose hid her smile. No doubt Laurence Bower engineered their days off to coincide. Not that she blamed him; he was a nice man and she was delighted he and Mary were friends. Secretly, Rose hoped more would come of it.

They stepped off the tram with cheerful goodbyes to both Laurence and the trainee conductor.

‘Now, which house was it?’ Rose said as they entered the street.

‘Number nine.’

But when they knocked at the door an older man, whom they presumed to be Terry’s father, opened it.

‘Is Terry at home?’

‘He should be, love, but he lives next door. Not here.’

‘Oh – right – thank you.’

‘He’s home on leave—’ The man stopped as if suddenly realizing he might well be giving too much information away. ‘Who wants to know?’

‘We just want to see him, that’s all.’

The man frowned, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He’d given the game away.

Rose and Myrtle turned away quickly, giving him no chance to ask further awkward questions. But as they knocked on the door of the neighbouring house, they saw the man was still watching them.

Amy opened the door, but when she saw who was standing there, she tried to close it again. Rose was too quick for her and put her foot in the gap. ‘Oh no, you don’t. Not this time. We know he’s here and we mean to see him if we have to stand in the street shouting his name all night.’

‘What’s going on, Amy? Who is it?’

Having heard the commotion, Edith Price came to the door. She pulled the door wider and smiled uncertainly at Rose and Myrtle. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Are you Mrs Price?’ When the woman nodded, Rose went on, ‘We’ve come to see Terry. We believe he’s home on leave.’

‘Well, yes, but—’

‘It’s that girl, Mam,’ Amy hissed. ‘Don’t let them in. They’re threatening to make trouble.’

‘Amy, what are you talking about? Oh!’ As if suddenly realizing just who the girls might be, Edith’s hand flew to cover her mouth. She stared at them for a moment and then her hand dropped away. She sighed heavily. ‘You’d better come in.’

‘Mam!’ Amy protested but her mother said, ‘I don’t want the neighbours hearing what these lasses have to say. Better done inside. I’ll call Terry down. He’s just getting ready to go out.’

‘With Sylvia,’ Amy said pointedly as she turned away.

‘Come in, both of you,’ Edith said and the two girls stepped straight into the front room. Edith closed the door behind them and then led the way through to the kitchen, on the way passing the foot of the stairs. She paused briefly to shout, ‘Terry, come down, will you? There’s someone to see you.’

Fifty-Four

They stood in the kitchen, waiting awkwardly until footsteps thumped down the stairs and Terry came into the room. He stopped in surprise. ‘Rose! Myrtle! Whatever are you doing here? Oh, it’s not Peg, is it? Don’t say something’s happened to her?’ He moved further into the room and, to their surprise, the concern on his face looked genuine. Before either of them could speak, Terry added, ‘Is it her husband? Has he been killed?’

Rose gasped and Myrtle grasped her arm.

‘Husband?’ Rose snapped, recovering quickly. ‘What on earth are you talking about, Terry?’

‘Amy said . . .’

Over his shoulder Rose saw Amy begin to sidle from the room as if to escape.

‘Where do you think you’re going, Amy? Stay where you are,’ Edith said sharply. ‘I think you’ve got some explaining to do.’ She turned back. ‘Look, Rose is it, and—?’ She looked at them expectantly.

‘Myrtle.’

‘Please sit down and I’ll make some tea.’

Myrtle almost laughed aloud – tea again – but it would have been laughter bordering on hysteria. The moment was fraught with tension.

Again, Amy tried to leave, but her mother said her name again warningly and she remained where she was near the door, but as if ready to flee.

‘I’ll get Harry.’ Mrs Price left the kitchen briefly and stepped into the scullery. They heard her open the back door and yell, ‘Harry, come in a minute, will you?’

Through the kitchen window that looked out over the back yard Rose saw a tall, thickset man emerge from the washhouse at the bottom of the yard.

‘What’s to do, Ma?’ he said, as he came into the kitchen wiping his hands on an oily rag. ‘I was just putting the chain back on me bike. Dratted thing keeps slipping off.’ He stopped as he saw they had visitors, ‘How do, girls?’

‘I’m making tea,’ Edith said. ‘There’s summat going on here needs sorting. This is Rose and that’s Myrtle. They’ve come to see our Terry.’

The man smiled and his eyes twinkled and, when he chuckled, it was a deep, infectious rumbling sound. Despite what might happen in the next few minutes, Rose couldn’t help liking the man. ‘Lucky Terry,’ he murmured.

They waited until Edith had handed round cups of tea and sat down herself. ‘Now, dears, how can we help you?’

They were friendly enough, Rose thought, but would that change rapidly in the next few minutes when they heard what she and Myrtle had to say. The sisters exchanged a glance and, with a little nod of agreement from Myrtle, Rose took a deep breath and began.

‘I don’t know how much you know, Mrs Price – Mr Price – but I’m going to start at the beginning. My sister, Peggy, was a clippie on the trams—’

‘
Was?
’ Terry repeated and now no one could miss the fear in his eyes. ‘Oh, don’t say—’

Edith touched his arm. ‘Let her go on, love. Let’s hear what they have to say.’

‘On the first day of the blitz here, Peggy’s tram was caught in the bombing and Terry was a passenger. He was great—’ Rose believed in giving credit where it was due. The lambasting would come in a few minutes. ‘He helped her get all the passengers out and took her to hospital afterwards. And then – ’ her expression became more serious – ‘he started calling at the house – to see how she was, he said. Then he asked her out, knowing full well she was going out with one of the drivers from work.’

‘Peg said it wasn’t serious. I’d never have started courting her if I’d thought for a minute she was serious about Bob. Is it him she’s married?’

Rose turned to look at him, meeting his earnest gaze. He looked so honest, so sincere, for a moment she felt a quiver of doubt. There was real pain in his eyes. But then she remembered all that Peggy had suffered because of him and her resolve hardened. ‘Peggy’s not married to Bob – or to anyone else. She could have been, mind you, because good old Bob offered to marry her when she found she was pregnant – with
your
child.’

Both Rose and Myrtle were totally unprepared for what happened next. For a moment Terry stared at them and then the colour drained from his face and he swayed, looking as if he was going to pass out.

‘Harry!’ Edith said urgently. ‘Help him.’

His father stood up quickly, scraping back his chair. He caught Terry by the shoulders and turned him around. ‘Put your head in your knees, lad. There, that’s it. You’ll be all right in a minute. Pour him some more tea, Ma. Good and strong. Plenty of sugar. Lad’s had a shock. As we all have,’ he glanced at Rose. But there was no accusation in his tone. If anything there was sorrow.

When Terry had recovered sufficiently, the colour returning to his face, he sipped his tea, though his hands still shook. ‘I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.’

Rose and Myrtle believed him. No man – unless he was an Oscar-winning actor – could have put on a display like that.

‘But your sister knew,’ Myrtle said softly. ‘We came to see her and we told her Peggy had had your baby. We knocked on the wrong door, but she was next door with her friend Sylvia. For a start she refuted the idea that the baby was yours.’

‘Oh, it’s mine all right.’

Rose was impressed that he made no prevarication. He didn’t even ask for dates to prove the child was his or even suggest that it could be Bob’s. Her resentment against him was lessening by the minute.

Terry pulled in a deep breath and said firmly, ‘Amy – come here.’

Slowly his sister came to stand beside him. He looked up at her, but rather than being angry, his voice was full of sadness when he asked, ‘Why didn’t you tell me what you’d heard? And why, when I came home, did you tell me you’d heard that Peggy had got married?’

Tears ran down Amy’s face. ‘Because the minute you got home you were all set to go and see her. To take up with her again.’

‘There’s no “again” about it. I never stopped loving Peg. I was devastated when you told me she was married. You know I was. I just want to know why you said that.’

‘Because – because—’ the girl spluttered, ‘Sylvia loves you. It’s her you should marry. We’ve got it all planned. I’m going to be your bridesmaid and Billy was going to be your best man.’

Terry flinched. ‘Poor old Billy isn’t going to be anyone’s best man, now, is he?’

Rose and Myrtle glanced at each other. ‘Why? Has – has something happened to him?’

‘You knew Billy?’

Rose’s heart contracted. Terry was speaking in the past tense about his friend. She licked her lips. ‘We met his dad when we came to try to find you. Billy was all right then.’

‘He was killed just over three months ago.’

Rose gasped. ‘That must have been only just after we saw his dad.’

‘I saw you in town yesterday,’ Myrtle put in. ‘You were walking with Mr Parkin. That’s how I knew you were alive and here.’

‘Alive? What do you mean?’

Amy began to sidle away again, but Terry caught hold of her arm and held her fast. ‘Oh no, you don’t, miss. You stay here.’ He looked back at Myrtle, the question in his eyes.

‘Amy told us they’d heard nothing from you and that they didn’t know if you were alive or – or dead.’

They saw his grip tighten and the girl squirmed. ‘Ow, you’re hurting me.’

‘I’ll hurt you, you little bugger. How could you have told such lies about me? You’ll wish it on me.’

‘Oh, Terry,’ Edith cried. ‘Don’t say that.’

Harry Price frowned. ‘You’ve got some answering to do, my girl.’

‘It was for Sylvia,’ Amy sobbed. ‘She’s loved him for years. Ever since they were little.’

‘Well, I’ve never loved her. We’ve been neighbours and friends, that’s all.’

‘All? We used to go out as a foursome. You, Sylvia, me and Billy. I thought – we thought . . .’

‘You thought wrong. You’re either very silly or very evil. At this moment, I can’t decide which and I have an overwhelming desire to throttle the pair of you. For God’s sake, Amy, you’re twenty-one. Grow up!’ He thrust his face close to hers. ‘Listen to me – from the minute I set eyes on Peggy there’s been no one else. Got it?’ Now he released his grip on the girl and almost flung her away from him. He turned back to Rose, his tone at once gentle again. ‘Is Peg all right? Will she want to see me? And – and the child. What is it? Have I a son – or a daughter?’

Rose smiled, even more impressed by his eagerness. ‘You have a beautiful son. He’s called Freddie.’

‘And Peggy? She’s all right?’

‘She is now. She’s fine, though just after the birth she got very depressed.’

‘And you think she’ll see me?’

‘I’m sure of it.’

Terry stood up. ‘Then what are we waiting for?’

Fifty-Five

‘Let us go in first, Terry, and break the news. If you just walk in, it’ll be a dreadful shock.’

‘All right, I’ll wait outside. But don’t be long – I can’t wait to see her.’

Rose and Myrtle entered the house and walked into the living room. It was a peaceful scene that met their eyes. Grace was sitting in her usual chair by the fire, reading her newspaper. Mary was sitting opposite her, a pile of mending in her lap, and Peggy was giving Freddie his late-night bottle. The little chap was already falling asleep in her arms. Rose and Myrtle paused in the doorway.

‘Either come in or go out,’ Grace said. ‘There’s a draught.’

Myrtle giggled nervously. ‘There’ll be a draught in a minute,’ she murmured.

‘Shush, Myrtle,’ Rose whispered and then cleared her throat and said, ‘we’ve something to tell you.’

All eyes turned to her.

‘Don’t tell us,’ Grace groaned. ‘You’re pregnant.’

‘No, no, I’m not – as far as I know. But it is good news. Peggy—’ She moved closer to her sister. ‘There’s someone outside, who’s desperate to see you.’

Myrtle couldn’t hold back the news any longer. ‘It’s Terry. He’s alive and home on leave.’