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Authors: Ellie Dean

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BOOK: Where the Heart Lies
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He followed her through the door and shut it behind him. There was no cheeky smile, no wicked twinkle in his eye as he leaned against the door – just a stony glare and a chin that jutted with determination. ‘Well?’ he demanded.

‘Now, Jim, there’s no call to get all hot and bothered,’ she said, her nerve beginning to fail her. ‘I admit I told a fib, but really, there is absolutely nothing sinister behind it.’

‘It’s not like you to lie at all. What have you been up to, Peggy?’

‘I didn’t go shopping the other afternoon,’ she confessed, twisting her hands nervously in the folds of her apron. ‘Because I had an important appointment to keep.’

He folded his arms, his eyes narrowing. ‘Who with? And why was it so important you had to lie to me about it?’

‘Jim Reilly, shut up a minute and let me talk,’ she
hissed. ‘I can’t think straight with you glaring at me like that.’

She could feel her heart pounding and her mouth was dry, but there was no turning back from this. ‘I’ve been feeling run-down and tired lately, and went to see Dr George at the Hazelwood clinic to ask him for a tonic to buck me up,’ she said quickly. ‘I thought I might be going through the change, or something. Things haven’t been right for a while.’

His suspicion and anger immediately disappeared and he hurried towards her with concern in his eyes. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you, is there, Peg?’ he asked hoarsely.

She shook her head. ‘Not
wrong
exactly,’ she murmured, not daring to look at him. She took a very deep breath and the words came out in a rush. ‘I’m three months pregnant, Jim.’

‘What?’

Everyone in the kitchen looked up at Jim’s roar. ‘It sounds like Mum’s told him something he’s not too pleased about,’ muttered Anne, packing away the duster and polish under the sink. ‘I think it might be best if we all make ourselves scarce until it blows over. Those two can go at it hammer and tongs, but when they make up afterwards it gets embarrassing.’

‘I’ll get out of me finery and take Harvey into the hills,’ muttered Ron, who was still wearing a silly grin and his best suit.

‘Suzy and I will probably sleep through it all,’
said Fran, ‘but if you think that’s bad, you should hear my Da and Mammy clearing the air. They can be heard all the way from Dublin to Bantry Bay.’

Julie finished her breakfast and carried her dish to the sink as Jim’s loud voice continued to drift down to them, the words indistinct and giving no hint of what the argument was about. It was quite like old times, she thought sadly. Mum and Dad had always enjoyed a good row – but Anne was right. It got embarrassing when they started cooing and making up afterwards.

‘It’s still a bit early, but I think I’ll take William to visit Eileen and then Kath, and share me good news,’ she said. ‘What about you, Anne?’

‘A stroll along the seafront and a cup of tea down at the kiosk will suit me just fine after that long night. Rose Margaret could do with some fresh air, and I’m going to miss the sea when I’m in Somerset.’

Julie’s happiness at knowing William would never be taken from her now that Charity had left for Yorkshire made her glow on the inside, and she knew it showed on her face. She smiled as Jim’s great shout of laughter rang out upstairs. ‘Whatever it was seems to have blown over,’ she murmured. ‘But I think we should leave them to it anyway.’

Chapter Twenty

WHAT WITH RON
acting like a lovesick schoolboy, and Jim going about with a great silly grin on his face, the last week had not been easy for Peggy. It was all right for Ron – his romancing of Rosie Braithwaite was common knowledge, and half the town had seen them mooning over one another at the Grand Hotel dance – but Jim was another matter entirely. It had been the devil’s own job to stop him from broadcasting their news to all and sundry, and she’d had to resort to dire threats when she suspected he was on the verge of blurting it out. The discovery had shocked her to the core and she’d barely had time to take it in, let alone make it public.

The day had arrived when Anne would be leaving for Somerset, and Jim broached the subject once again as they were getting dressed. ‘I don’t see why we can’t tell Anne and the rest of the family,’ he complained. ‘After all, ’tis a wondrous thing.’

Peggy finished brushing her hair and watched him in the mirror as he stood behind her and buttoned his shirt. ‘If we tell Anne she’ll refuse to go to Somerset, and you know it isn’t safe for her here, not now she’s got Rose Margaret.’

‘Well, she’ll have to know sooner or later,’ he muttered. ‘You can’t hide something like that for long.’

‘I’ll write to her when she’s good and settled down there, and when I’m ready,’ she said firmly.

He put his arms about her waist, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder as he regarded their reflections in the mirror. ‘Are you not happy about this baby, Peg? Is that why you’re so reluctant to tell anyone?’

She turned within his embrace and leaned her cheek on his chest. ‘I really don’t know how I feel,’ she confessed. ‘It’s all come as such a shock, and one minute I’m over the moon, the next I’m dreading it.’ She looked up at him. ‘I’m a grandmother, Jim. I shouldn’t be having a baby, not at my age.’

‘Ach, you’re a wee spring chicken, and grandparents or not, I’m tickled pink.’ He puffed out his chest and gave her a broad smile.

‘I might be the chicken, but don’t go playing the old rooster with me, Jim Reilly. It won’t be you giving birth to it, getting up in the middle of the night to feed it, or washing nappies and dealing with croup and—’

He silenced her with a kiss.

She pushed him away finally, and turned to make the bed. That was the sort of behaviour that had got her into this mess, and although she absolutely adored him, she simply couldn’t think straight when he kissed her like that. And she needed her wits about her today, for Anne’s departure would be hard
enough to bear, without worrying over Jim’s inability to keep his mouth shut.

‘I just hope Cissy and Anne won’t take the news too badly,’ she murmured as she pummelled the pillows. ‘It won’t be easy for them to come to terms with their mother having a baby after all these years. As for Doris, well, she’ll probably refuse to speak to me ever again.’

Jim snorted. ‘As far as that sister of yours is concerned, then it would be a blessing. Doris is a terrible snob, so she is, and you don’t see eye to eye at all, so I’m surprised you even care what she might think.’

Peggy giggled as she straightened the eiderdown. ‘She winds me up like a clock when she comes round here turning her nose up at everything. I might enjoy telling her, just to see the look on her face. It’s bound to be priceless.’

Jim stilled her by taking her hand. ‘I don’t care about Doris, or how the other wains take it,’ he said softly. ‘I care about you, and how you feel. ’Tis a miracle, Peggy, and I want you to rejoice in it with me.’

She looked up at him, her emotions in turmoil. ‘It’s only just sunk in,’ she admitted, ‘and although it won’t be easy what with air raids, rationing and a full house to look after, I’ve realised I’m thrilled at the thought.’

‘Honestly?’

‘Honestly,’ she murmured and smiled up at him.
‘But my emotions are all over the place right now, and with Anne leaving with Rose Margaret, it’s going to be hard to adjust to the reality of having none of my children at home. I want to tell everyone, of course I do. But not yet, Jim – not until I’m really ready.’

‘You have my promise, Peg.’ He drew her close and kissed the top of her head, which just about reached the tips of his shirt collar. ‘But I need you to promise that you’ll look after yourself and do what the doctor tells you.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she said briskly. ‘Good heavens, Jim. I’ve had four babies already, and this one will be no different.’

‘You were younger then, and there wasn’t a war on,’ he said solemnly. ‘If you meant what you said about really wanting this baby, then you’ll rest and eat properly and not put it or yourself at risk.’

‘I promise,’ she replied, her mind going over all the things she had yet to do before Anne left home.

‘Peggy, you’re a wee pain in the arse, so you are – but I love you anyway.’ He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek and tugged her hand. ‘Come on. Everyone will be waiting for their breakfast, and I could eat a horse, so I could.’

‘You’ll get dried egg on dry toast and like it,’ she retorted happily. ‘They’ve just cut the butter ration again.’

Breakfast was the usual chaos, with babies demanding to be fed, nurses dashing in and out on their way
to work, Rita swotting for her mechanic’s final exams, and Harvey trying to steal toast and anything else the babies dropped on the floor.

Julie was trying to feed William, who was sitting in the high chair banging his spoon on the tray; Rose Margaret was smearing as much jam as possible into her hair while Mrs Finch dithered about trying to be helpful and Anne struggled to keep the jam off her good skirt. Ron was the only still being in this whirl of noise and activity, sitting there at the end of the table, lost in his own world as he contentedly drank his tea.

Peggy sat in her kitchen as the clock ticked away the minutes and the noise went on around her. She poured the tea, passed the jug of milk or pot of sugar, and let the chatter drift over her as she watched her lovely daughter. Anne had left home when she and Martin had bought their little cottage, so it shouldn’t feel so painful to see her preparing to leave again. But it did, for this time she would be taking Rose Margaret with her, and the little girl had become such an intrinsic part of Peggy’s life she couldn’t imagine the house without her.

They heard the roar and screech of a car pulling up outside and the excited tooting of a horn. ‘That’ll be Martin,’ said Anne, pushing back from the table and hauling a protesting Rose from the high chair. ‘He’s much earlier than I expected, and Rose needs a bath before I take her anywhere.’

Before Anne could extricate herself from Rose’s
sticky fingers, the kitchen door swung open and Cissy breezed in, trailing a rather bemused, but obviously besotted, young airman behind her.

‘I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye,’ she said. ‘This is James, by the way. He’s been such a sweetie to drive me down from the base.’

Peggy smiled at the young flying officer, who’d blushed to the roots of his hair at Cissy’s praise, and then went to hug her daughter. Cissy was elegant in her WAAF uniform, her fair hair neatly pinned back beneath the jaunty cap, her slender figure enhanced by the rather severe jacket and straight skirt. She’d always been the lively one, the romantic with a soft heart who fell in and out of love at the drop of a hat, and Peggy rather hoped that this James was not the next victim – he looked rather nice.

Peggy smiled at her daughters, delighted to have them together, however briefly. ‘It’s so lovely to see you, Cissy,’ she breathed as they hugged.

‘Well, I couldn’t let her go without giving this precious girl a big kiss, could I?’ she asked, her big blue eyes full of laughter. She reached for Rose and recoiled. ‘Yuk,’ she grimaced. ‘She’s all sticky with jam and bits of egg.’

‘To be sure, you were the same at that age, Cissy,’ laughed Jim. ‘All babies are messy eaters, so they are, and—’

‘You’ll find out for yourself one day,’ interrupted Peggy, shooting him a warning look.

Jim gave a deep sigh and turned his attention to Cissy’s young man, sitting him down with a cup of tea and the offer of a cigarette. It was clearly time for the men to form some sort of barrier against the noise of all those chattering females. With all the girls talking at once, it was hard for Mrs Finch to follow what they were saying, but that didn’t put her off in the slightest and she joined in with gusto.

Peggy sat back, warmed by the sight of her two beautiful daughters as they hastily bathed Rose Margaret in the kitchen sink and changed her into clean clothes. They weren’t alike at all, one dark, the other fair, and as children, had fought like cats. Yet now they were young women, they’d formed a very close bond, especially since Anne had had Rose. She began to daydream about the tiny being that was growing inside her. Would it be dark or fair, a girl or boy? Would it have Jim’s eyes, or Anne’s smile?

‘Mum! Mum, whatever’s the matter?’

‘What?’

‘I’ve been talking to you and you haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying.’ Cissy pouted. ‘You looked as if you were miles away.’

Peggy pulled her ragged thoughts together. ‘Sorry, darling. I was wool-gathering.’

‘Martin’s arrived, and he wants to know if it’s all right to take the old cot. Only Violet doesn’t have one, and he can easily tie it to the roof of the car.’

‘Better he leaves it here,’ said Jim.

Cissy frowned. ‘Whatever for, Dad? William’s got his own, and our old thing probably won’t be needed again for years.’

Jim opened his mouth to say something but Peggy hastily forestalled him. ‘Of course they can take it. Anne can have the old pram as well if she wants.’

‘He’s driving a small Ford, Mum, not an army truck or Aunt Doris’s Bentley.’ Cissy put her hands on her hips and gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Honestly, Mum, what
is
the matter with you this morning?’

‘Nothing,’ Peggy said briskly, and hurried into the hall to see if there was anything she could do to help. But Ron had already dismantled the cot and was tying it firmly to the roof of the car, Martin was stacking cases in the boot, and Jim had followed her out and was now standing with young James, their heads buried beneath the bonnet of the little car, deep in contemplation of its working parts.

The car was finally packed, and Anne took a last look round the bedroom to make sure she’d remembered everything. She stood in the hall of Beach View Boarding House with Rose Margaret on her hip, clearly torn between leaving her home and parents for the second time, and the need to take her baby to safety.

Peggy put her arms round them both. ‘Take care, darling,’ she murmured, kissing her cheek. ‘And ring me the minute you get down to Violet’s so that I know you’ve arrived safely.’ She kissed Rose’s sweet face, breathed in her precious baby smell and
stepped back, unable to prolong the agony of this parting.

BOOK: Where the Heart Lies
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