There'll Be Blue Skies (24 page)

Ernie solemnly shook his head, his large brown eyes fixed on John. He was clearly torn between excitement and doubt. ‘Are you Sal’s boyfriend?’

‘Of course not,’ said Sally hastily.

John just smiled and kept his focus on Ernie. ‘Not yet,’ he replied, ‘but I’d like to be.’ He leant in a little closer, his voice low. ‘I think I’m going to need your help, young Ernie,’ he confided. ‘You see, your sister isn’t at all sure she likes the look of me yet.’

Sally could feel the heat in her face as everybody watched the little scene.

Ernie eyed him closely. ‘You look all right to me,’ he muttered. His eyes brightened and he grinned. ‘Are you really a fireman? Have you got yer engine outside? Can I ’ave a ride on it?’

‘I haven’t got it with me today,’ he replied carefully, ‘but perhaps I can arrange for you, Bob and Charlie to visit the fire station and have a go at riding it and ringing the bell. How would you like that?’

‘Cor,’ breathed Ernie. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really,’ he replied, swiftly glancing at Sally to make sure she approved. ‘But you might have to wait a while, we get very busy sometimes.’ He stood and grasped the wheelchair handles. ‘Come on, Ernie, let’s put those sweets under the tree, and then we can all tuck into what looks like a smashing tea.’

Sally sat on one side of Ernie, John the other and, as the conversation swirled around her, she shot surreptitious glances at him. He was certainly handsome, and had a lovely way with him. Ernie was clearly in the throes of hero worship, and Mrs Finch was actually flirting with him. He seemed very much at ease, and Sally liked the way he kept bringing her into the conversation, talking of things she would know about, asking her opinion and seeming to value it. He was courteous, never overstepping the mark, but when his steady gaze held hers a fraction longer than necessary, she could read something in his eyes that made her feel all trembly inside.

She pondered on all this as she ate the delicious tea and, when the meal was over, she helped clear the table and do the dishes while the three men challenged the boys to a raucous game of snakes and ladders.

‘So?’ Peggy put the last of the dishes back in the cupboard. ‘What do you think of him?’

‘He’s nice,’ she replied softly.

‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’ Peggy took off her apron and smiled. ‘He clearly thinks rather a lot of you too.’

‘Really?’ Sally felt a surge of happiness that someone as special as John Hicks might actually like the look of her.

‘Oh, yes.’ She dumped the apron on the table, took John’s steaming coat from the chair and hung it on the hook behind the door. ‘Now, come on Sally, enough of this idle chitchat. Those boys are going to have to go to bed soon, and I doubt they’ll go willingly after so much excitement. I don’t know about you, but I could do with a drop of that rum and a few minutes with my feet up.’

One board game had led to another until all the boys were thoroughly overexcited. Peggy called a halt to the proceedings when Bob started accusing Charlie of cheating, and dragged the pair of them downstairs to their beds.

‘It’s way past your bedtime, young man,’ Sally said quietly to Ernie, who’d been fighting sleep for at least the last hour. ‘Say goodnight, and thank John for his present.’

‘Thanks ever so,’ he said. ‘Will you carry me upstairs? Sal says I’m getting too ’eavy, and I don’t wanna be dropped on me ’ead.’

Sally was about to protest when John hoisted the boy over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and carried him into the hall. ‘Which way?’

‘Two flights up, middle door.’

John ran up the stairs with Ernie squealing in delight and clinging tightly to John’s white shirt. Sally followed more slowly and, when she entered the bedroom, she found the pair of them sitting on the edge of the bed grinning up at her.

‘You both look as if you’ve been up to no good,’ she said, and laughed. ‘And don’t think you’re getting out of having a proper wash just because it’s Christmas, Ernie Turner.’

‘See,’ said Ernie with a grimace. ‘I told you she was bossy.’

‘Sisters, eh?’ He ruffled the boy’s hair before getting to his feet. ‘I’ll leave you to it, Sally,’ he said. ‘Unless you want a hand?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Ernie bounced on the bed. ‘I want John to put me to bed.’

‘I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll see you downstairs, John.’

Once Ernie was washed, she massaged him, soothing the tender muscles in rhythmic sweeps, calming the little boy until his eyelids fluttered and he fell into a deep sleep.

Kissing him softly, she tucked the bedclothes round his shoulders and crossed the room. She studied her appearance in the wardrobe mirror, and realised with shock that her eyes were shining and her skin glowed. For once in her life she actually looked pretty.

‘Probably the effect of that glass of rum,’ she muttered. Cross with herself for letting her excitement get the better of her, she snapped off the light, left the door ajar so she could hear if Ernie called for her, and hurried downstairs.

The bottle of rum had been enthusiastically shared as the three men discussed the phoney war that had yet to really show its teeth, and the frustrating lack of information coming from the government. No-one really knew anything, and as the months had passed with little evidence of any real or lasting attacks on the capital, a great many evacuees had returned to London and people had carried on their ordinary lives. It was the general consensus that, despite the awful things happening in Europe and the Baltic States, where their troops were doing sterling battle against the enemy, the British Isles seemed to have been forgotten.

John prepared to leave shortly after Sally came down from seeing to Ernie. He said goodnight to everyone, and Peggy ordered Jim and Ron to get on with drinking their rum and talking nonsense while Sally saw him to the door.

Sally followed him into the kitchen and watched as he wrestled into the thick mackintosh. ‘Thanks for everything,’ she said. ‘It’s been ever so nice to get to know you, and Ernie’s that excited about your fire engine. He’ll be on about it for days.’

‘It was my pleasure,’ he murmured, as they walked slowly to the front door. ‘I’ll see if I can get something sorted within the week. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him waiting too long.’

Sally reluctantly reached for the doorknob. The evening was over, and she wanted so much to see him again – but, as he hadn’t suggested it, she supposed she’d just have to wait until he invited them all to the fire station.

He stilled her hand as she went to turn the doorknob. ‘Can I see you again?’

Sally could feel the warmth of his hand, and the tingle that went up her arm. She looked up at him and saw the earnest appeal in his mesmerising eyes. ‘If you’d really like to,’ she replied shyly.

‘Perhaps you’ll let me buy you that cup of tea I offered the first time we met?’

‘That would be nice.’

He smiled down at her as he opened the door. ‘Good night, Sally Turner,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll sleep well tonight and dream of those gold flecks in your lovely eyes.’

She giggled. ‘Get away with yer,’ she spluttered. ‘You do talk soft.’

‘I know. Silly isn’t it?’ He blew her a kiss and ran down the steps into the teeming rain.

Sally could hear his happy whistle long after he’d been lost in the darkness, and she closed the door, daring to dream that maybe, just maybe, she might, after all, have the chance of a less lonely future than she’d always envisaged.

Ernie woke her in the middle of the night, crying because his back and legs were aching. Sally ran down to the kitchen to fill a stone hot-water bottle; wrapping it in a towel, she got him to snuggle up to it while she massaged him back to sleep.

Lying in the darkness, she could hear the church bells calling people to Midnight Mass. It was almost Christmas Day. She turned off the bedside light and opened the curtains.

The sky was as black as velvet, studded with twinkling stars, and she could see the frost dusting the rooftops like icing sugar. Staring out at the heavenly display, she wondered what her parents were doing. Florrie was probably out dancing, but Dad would be at sea, perhaps looking at the same stars. She hoped he was thinking of her and Ernie, and she wished with all her heart that he could be here for Christmas.

Sally closed the curtains, checked on Ernie and climbed into her bed. There had been no word from him, and she had to hope he was all right. Comforting herself with the thought that Florrie probably hadn’t told him where they were, and that he’d come to visit as soon as he could, she closed her eyes and let her mind wander through the day, and the little scene on the doorstep.

With a soft smile of contentment, she was soon asleep.

Christmas Day started with the boys rushing up from the basement to bang on their parents’ bedroom door demanding to be allowed to open their presents. Once everyone was awake and dressed, they converged in the dining room with their cups of tea to watch the boys plunder their stockings.

Sally could feel the tears prick as Ernie pulled out a comic, socks and scarf, sweets, marbles and a toy gun. His little face was pink with pleasure, his eyes sparkling despite the disturbed night’s sleep. ‘This is a smashing Christmas, ain’t it Sal?’ he breathed, waving the gun and pretending to shoot Mrs Finch.

‘Yeah, luv, it’s the best,’ murmured Sally.

‘Can we stay ’ere for ever and ever?’

Sally ruffled his hair and forced a smile. ‘Maybe not for ever and ever,’ she said softly, ‘but for a while yet.’

Peggy must have noticed his little face crumple. ‘I know, Ernie,’ she said brightly. ‘Why don’t you and I find everyone’s present from under the tree? Then you can help me hand them out.’ She took his little hand and Ernie happily went with her.

These people are so good, thought Sally. They’ve taken us in and given us a real home – loved Ernie and me as if we were their own. I can’t bear the thought that one day we’ll have to go back to Bow.

‘Here we are,’ said Peggy, breaking into her thoughts. ‘I thought you’d like to open this one first.’

Sally blinked back her tears and carefully unwrapped the pretty paper from the square box John had given her the night before. She gasped with surprise and pleasure as she took out the neat, cream leather bag. It looked expensive and smelled wonderful, and tucked under her arm so neatly, it was as if it had been made for her. On closer inspection, she discovered it was lined with black rayon, and there was a zipped compartment which held a mirror set in a frame of the same leather. His card nestled at the bottom of the bag.

I hope you have a lovely Christmas. Try not to get any bullet-holes in this! Looking forward to seeing you again in the New Year
,

John
.

Sally rescued the handbag from Ernie’s sticky fingers and tucked it beside her in the chair – the feel of it against her hip was the next best thing to actually seeing him.

There were other presents to open and the dining-room floor was soon littered with paper, bits of string and ribbon as each one was admired and cooed over. John had given a bottle of lavender water to Mrs Finch, a powder compact to Cissy, and a pair of gloves to Anne. For Peggy there was a bottle of her favourite lily of the valley perfume. Each of the boys had at least a bob’s worth of sweets, which Peggy had to ration, afraid they wouldn’t eat the lunch which was already cooking in the kitchen and sending delicious smells all through the house.

Sally opened each gift, the tears blinding her. There was a beautiful pale lilac sweater from Peggy, woollen gloves from Anne, a deep red lipstick from Cissy, and a cosy dressing gown from Ron and Jim which matched the warm slippers from Mrs Finch. ‘I don’t know how to thank you all,’ she said in the lull after everything had been opened, ‘but this is the best Christmas I’ve ever ’ad, and I love you all for making it so special for me and Ernie.’

Peggy sat on the arm of the chair and gave her a hug. ‘It wouldn’t have been the same without you,’ she murmured.

They were interrupted by a furious banging on the front door, which was followed by a lengthy ring on the bell.

‘Who the hell’s that on Christmas morning?’ Jim said crossly. He stomped out of the room and everyone stilled, trying to make sense of the murmured conversation going on in the hall.

Sally dared to hope it might be John but, as Martin Black strode into the room, magnificently heroic in leather flying jacket and boots, she hardly felt any disappointment at all.

‘Anne, I had to come. I couldn’t leave things the way they were. I had to see you, talk to you, make you realise that I don’t care a damn for what my parents think. I want to marry you, and I won’t take no for an answer.’

Anne had gone quite pale, now the colour flooded into her face. ‘What are you doing here?’ she breathed. ‘You’re supposed to be on duty.’

‘The other chaps are covering for me,’ he replied impatiently. ‘I only have an hour, and we need to talk, Anne. Please?’

‘You’ll get into the most fearsome trouble,’ she said, the tears sparkling on her lashes. ‘Oh, Martin, what have you done?’

‘I’ve fallen in love,’ he said evenly. ‘And I don’t care about anything right this minute, but you.’ He fell to one knee, dug in the pocket of his flying jacket and held out a diamond ring. ‘Will you marry me, Anne? Will you make me the happiest man in England?’