There'll Be Blue Skies (32 page)

‘Just do it, Ernie.’ Florrie’s blue eyes flashed and the bright smile disappeared as her red lips formed a thin line and she nudged him away.

‘There’s no need to talk to him like that,’ Sally said grimly as she steadied him.

‘’E’s my kid. I’ll talk to ’im any way I want.’ She examined the damage to her frock and brushed at the smears of dirt on the material.

‘It’s a pity you didn’t remember he was yours when we left London,’ retorted Sally. She smiled at Ernie, who was now hovering by the basement door. ‘Go and wash, love, then come back to me for a cuddle.’

‘You’re making that kid soft,’ said Florrie. ‘He’s far too old to be ’aving cuddles. What is he now – eight, nine?’ She sniffed derisively. ‘Still a skinny little runt. All this sea air ain’t done much for ’im, ’as it?’

‘He’s only just seven,’ Sally replied evenly, her anger firmly controlled. ‘He’s thin because he’s not been well – but on the whole he’s far healthier than he ever was back in Bow.’

‘If you say so.’ Florrie sat down in the deckchair. Crossing her legs, she revealed a good deal of shapely thigh and the tops of her stockings. She shot a glance at Ron. ‘Ain’t you gunna introduce me then? That old geezer looks like ’e’s about to ’ave an ’eart attack at the sight of a decent pair of legs.’

‘The name’s Ronan Reilly,’ he said with a glower, ‘and I’ve seen more tempting bits of meat on a butcher’s block.’ He grabbed the sacks of kindling and stomped off to his shed where Bob and Charlie were watching with avid interest.

‘Well, of all the …’

‘You asked for that,’ said Sally, biting down on a smile. Ron’s judgement was pinpoint accurate as usual – he’d take no nonsense from Florrie.

Sally pulled the scarf from her hair and mopped her sweaty face before stuffing it into the pocket of the dungarees she always wore when Ron took her up into the hills. ‘If Dad knows where we are, why hasn’t he come to see us?’

‘How should I know?’ Florrie smoked her cigarette with fierce intensity. ‘He ain’t ’ome that often, and it’s difficult to get down ’ere,’ she said less aggressively. ‘I got no idea where ’e is at the moment – but I think ’e’s on the convoys.’

Sally felt a stab of disappointment. She’d been hoping for news of her father, but Florrie was clearly not interested in anyone but herself. She eyed the empty deckchairs and sat down. ‘Where is everyone?’

Florrie squashed the cigarette butt beneath the toe of her high-heeled sandals, the tarnished ankle bracelet glittering in the sun. ‘Peggy took that old biddy indoors, and Anne’s getting some drinks.’ She folded her arms and eyed her daughter steadily and without approval. ‘You’ve changed,’ she said flatly, ‘and what’s with all the posh talk? You ain’t my Sal no more.’

‘I stopped being your Sal that day you couldn’t be bothered to come to the station to see us off,’ she said evenly. ‘And yes, I’ve changed. There’s nothing wrong in trying to improve myself.’

Florrie snorted. ‘Improve yerself?’ she sneered. ‘Where’s that gunna get yer, eh? Some poxy job in a factory, and a room in this dump.’

‘It’s not a dump,’ she retorted. ‘Peggy’s given me and Ernie a real home, and shown us more affection in the last year than you ever have. Compared to our place in Bow, this is a palace.’

‘You’re an ungrateful little cow,’ snarled Florrie. ‘Me and yer dad did the best we could, but it ain’t easy tryin’ to manage without a man in the ’ouse ’alf the time and a sick kid to bring up.’

Sally was about to remind her that it was she who’d brought up Ernie, when he came out of the basement and hesitantly approached them. Keeping her anger well hidden, she lifted him on to her lap and held him close. ‘What are you doing here, Mum?’ she asked again.

‘I got bombed out, didn’t I? ’Ad to move in with a friend.’ She lit another cigarette, studiously avoiding Sally’s gaze.

Sally had a fleeting image of that street lined with tenement houses, the factory and the gasworks looming over them. ‘How bad was it?’

Florrie shrugged. ‘Bad enough. ’Alf the bleedin’ street’s gorn. We was lucky we was all in the public shelter, else we’d ’ave all copped it. The gasworks went up along with the factory – so I was out of work as well as on the bleedin’ streets.’

Sally could imagine the devastation, despite having seen only a glimpse of it here in Cliffehaven. ‘Solomon’s has gone?’

‘He’s setting up down ’ere with Goldman. They’ve bought the place next door evidently, and that’s why I come down. I gotta job there.’

Sally’s spirits plunged further. ‘That’s where I’m working,’ she said softly. ‘Goldman made me line-manager.’

‘Blimey.’ The blue eyes regarded her without affection. ‘Comes to something when me own daughter gets to be management – talk about changing sides.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘I ’ope you don’t think you’re gunna lord it over me, gel, cos I won’t stand for that.’

‘I’ll make sure you’re in a different section,’ she said hastily. ‘It won’t help either of us once the other girls know we’re related. They’ll think I’ll be doing you favours.’

‘I don’t need no favours from you,’ she said with a sniff. ‘Solly’s promised to set me up nice and tight in the cutting department where I can earn some decent money.’

‘But you ain’t – aren’t a cutter.’

‘I been learning.’ Her gaze was flat, her expression determined.

Sally eyed her as her thoughts raced. She’d always suspected Florrie had a thing going with Solomon – it had often been the cause of the rows between her parents. ‘Was it Solomon who took you in when you got bombed out?’

‘He’s got a big ’ouse,’ she replied matter-of-factly. ‘With ’is wife living with ’er sister in Scotland, it seemed a shame to let all them rooms go to waste.’ She looked Sally in the eye. ‘I moved into the spare room and paid rent like any other lodger.’

Sally almost laughed. She knew her mother far too well, and it was ludicrous of Florrie to even attempt such a ridiculous lie. She eyed the suitcase and gas mask that were standing beside the deckchair. ‘Where are you planning to stay?’

‘Well, ’ere of course. Peggy said I could ’ave the room next to you. Solly gave me some money to pay for the weekend, and once the Billeting Office opens on Monday, he’ll sort out the government grant and such-like.’

‘Me and Ernie are moving out at the end of next week,’ said Sally. She saw the glint in Florrie’s eyes and hastened to put her right. ‘My mate, Pearl, got married recently; as her Billy’s away at sea, she asked me to move in to the spare room with Ernie.’

‘Are you really staying, Mum?’ Ernie breathed. ‘You ain’t gunna go off again?’

‘Not just yet, luv.’ She glanced coolly at Sally. ‘I was ’oping we could be a real family again, but it seems yer sister ’as other plans.’ She shot Ernie a smile. ‘Wouldn’t you like to stay ’ere with me and Sal instead of going off?’

Ernie eyed her thoughtfully and then shrugged. ‘Dunno,’ he muttered.

‘I might even take you for a paddle on the beach,’ she said, as she dug in her big white plastic handbag for her powder compact and lipstick.

‘They got mines on the beach, Mum,’ said Ernie. ‘We ain’t allowed down there or the bombs will blow us all up.’

‘That’s nice, luv,’ she murmured, distracted by her reflection in the compact mirror and the need to add more lipstick.

Ernie looked up at Sally in confusion. ‘Does Mum want us to get blown up, Sal?’ he hissed.

‘Of course she doesn’t. She’s just not listening properly, that’s all.’

‘Why?’

‘Because that’s the way she is,’ said Sally flatly. ‘Why don’t you go and help Bob and Charlie with the kindling?’

‘All right,’ he said with a huge sigh. ‘I know when I ain’t wanted.’

Sally grinned at him and handed him the walking stick. ‘Get on with you,’ she said fondly, ‘and stop feeling so sorry for yourself. Look, Harvey wants you to go and play with him.’

Snapping the compact and lipstick away in the large bag, Florrie eased back into the deckchair and closed her eyes. ‘This is like being on ’oliday,’ she sighed. ‘Mind you, I ’ad one ’ell of a journey down. The lines were up, and we ’ad to get off and on bleedin’ buses every five minutes. I thought I’d never get ’ere.’

Sally was quite shocked to discover how her mother’s voice and language grated on her. Even Pearl’s accent had been smoothed out over the past months, and she had become used to the softer, rounded tones of Peggy and her family.

‘How did you find Beach View?’

She gave a chuckle. ‘I met a really nice bloke outside Cliffehaven Station who gave me a lift, otherwise I’d’ve ’ad to walk, and that suitcase ain’t ’alf ’eavy.’

‘Trust you to find the one man in Cliffehaven who has a car and doesn’t mind ferrying you about,’ muttered Sally.

‘It’s a knack I learned years ago, Sal. Wouldn’t ’urt you none either.’ She cast a sneering glance over Sally’s dungarees, wellington boots and cotton shirt. ‘Not that any bloke would look at you twice in that get-up. You’ve let yerself go, Sal, and that’s a fact, otherwise I’d’ve asked you along for drinks with ’im tonight at the Mermaid. He’s bound to ’ave a mate.’

Sally inwardly shuddered at the thought. Florrie usually got very drunk when out with her men-friends, and it was embarrassing to watch. ‘I can’t go out, anyway,’ she replied, ‘there’s Ernie to look after, and I’ve got a lot of sewing to finish.’

Florrie didn’t seem at all put out by this as she lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes. ‘This is a lovely sunny spot,’ she sighed. ‘I might even get a tan now I’m at the seaside.’

Peggy came out of the house carrying a tray of mismatched glasses, with Anne following closely behind with a jug of cordial. These were set on the low stool.

Florrie opened one eye and stared resentfully at the cordial. ‘I thought we was ’aving proper drinks,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t suppose there ain’t any chance of a beer? Only I’m parched.’

‘I keep the beer for the men,’ said Peggy firmly. ‘It’s the cordial or water.’

‘What about a cuppa?’

‘Sorry. I’m down to the last few leaves, so I’m rationing it for breakfasts.’

Florrie heaved a very deep sigh and closed her eyes again. ‘Then I suppose I’ll ’ave to ’ave the cordial.’

Sally shot an apologetic glance at Peggy, who shrugged and poured the cordial into the glasses. Ron and the boys took theirs to a sunny spot by the tomatoes where they sat on strips of sacking and helped prick out the cabbage seedlings that would soon be planted in the vegetable plot.

Ernie seemed quite happy, so Sally turned her attention back to Florrie, who was now leaning back in the deckchair as if she was on holiday at some smart hotel, waiting to be served refreshments. ‘How did you get a permit to cross into this restricted zone, Mum?’

‘Solly knows some bloke at the Transport Office,’ she murmured. ‘I think ’e laid it on a bit thick about me being bombed out, and that me kids were down ’ere and such. But it worked, and ’ere I am – out of London and away from them bombs.’

She sat up as Anne handed her the glass of cordial. She took a sip, found to her surprise that she liked it and took another. ‘London’s on fire, you know,’ she said to no-one in particular. ‘Them Germans are flying over nearly every day now.’

‘It’s not much better down here,’ replied Peggy dryly. ‘We’ve had raids too, and a great many tip and runs. Didn’t you know that the newspapers are calling this part of the south coast Bombers’ Alley?’

Florrie’s blue eyes widened. ‘Solly said it would be safe ’ere,’ she breathed. ‘That’s why I agreed to come.’

‘He was obviously misinformed,’ said Peggy.

‘But the kids are still ’ere, ain’t they? They wouldn’t let ’em stay if it were that dangerous.’

‘Our school nearly got bombed the other day,’ shouted Ernie from across the garden. ‘It was exciting, cos we ’ad to go into the shelter under the playground and we could ’ear the planes and everything.’

‘See?’ said Florrie. ‘Even Ernie ain’t scared. I can’t see what all the fuss is about.’

Anne lit a cigarette and regarded Florrie with uncharacteristic coolness. ‘A lot of the local children have already been evacuated, along with most of the ones who came down from London. The classrooms are almost empty, and soon it won’t be viable to keep the school going. The bombing so close to the school was a warning to all of us that it isn’t safe any more.’

‘But your boys are still ’ere.’ Florrie glanced across at Bob and Charlie who were helping Ernie to water the vegetable plants. ‘And Sally’s been talking about moving in with a mate. It don’t sound that urgent to me.’

‘It might not seem urgent to you,’ said Peggy. ‘But Jim and I have been talking seriously about sending them all away until things quieten down. And yet we’ve heard some of the evacuees’ stories, and we can’t make up our minds what to do for the best.’ She heaved a deep sigh. ‘It’s all a bit of a dilemma really – especially now Sally’s making plans to start afresh at Pearl’s.’

‘I don’t see why. If it ain’t safe, then they gotta go. My kids done all right with you, why shouldn’t they be all right somewhere else?’

‘We were lucky Peggy took us in,’ said Sally. She lowered her voice so the boys couldn’t hear what she was saying. ‘No-one wanted Ernie,’ she said quietly, ‘and the lady from the Billeting Office said he’d have to go to an orphanage. If Peggy hadn’t come along when she did, we’d have had to get on the next train back to London, because there was no way I was leaving Ernie in some home.’