While We're Apart (11 page)

‘Nothing,' she retorted as she lifted her chin.

He sat down beside her at the kitchen table. ‘You don't fool me, Peggy Reilly,' he said softly. ‘Come on, out with it. What's wrong?'

Peggy tried desperately to be calm and accepting, but her voice betrayed her inner turmoil. ‘He's on embarkation leave,' she told him tremulously. ‘They're sending him to India.'

Ron paled and sat back in his chair. ‘India? To be sure that's a far place to be going.'

‘Aye, it is,' said Jim as he strolled into the kitchen in his rather splendid dressing gown. ‘And I don't want any long faces or tears spoiling this leave. I'm thinking it will be an adventure to go travelling and visit all those exotic places I've only seen on a map.' His handsome face was quite youthful as he broke into a smile. ‘At least I won't have to put up with English winters like poor old Frank stuck up there in the wilds of Yorkshire.'

Harvey was ecstatic to have Jim home again and he danced round his legs, jumping up to lick his face as Ron shoved back from the table and opened his arms to his son. With the dog whining and twisting at their knees, the two men embraced.

‘Ach, Da, it's good to see you again,' said Jim. He grinned down at his father, who was a couple of inches shorter. ‘I see you've had a haircut, Da. But d'ye not possess a single decent stitch of clothing to wear?'

Ron cuffed him on the arm. ‘Aye, I do that,' he replied, ‘but 'tis not for you that I wear me best.'

Jim laughed. ‘It's about time you made an honest woman of Rosie,' he teased. ‘How many years have you two been courting?'

‘Enough,' said Ron with a sniff. ‘Not that it's any of your business.' He went to make the tea while Jim made a fuss of a delighted and overexcited Harvey, who was trying to climb into his arms.

Peggy smiled fondly at the two men. Jim and his dad were as bad as each other – a couple of rogues who made great use of their blarney and the lilting, peaty Irish brogue to charm them out of trouble. As the pair of them settled down at the table to drink tea and yarn, she put Daisy in the playpen that was jammed in the corner so she could organise the porridge and set the table. If she kept busy she wouldn't think – and no matter how hard she might find it, she was determined to treasure every single moment of Jim's leave and not spoil it by being gloomy and frightened.

‘I expect Frank's looking forward to getting his discharge papers,' Ron muttered after he'd listened to Jim's amusing tales of devilish obstacle courses and how he'd constantly had to dodge the sergeant major's beady eyes. ‘What are his plans for when he comes home?'

‘He's going back to fishing,' said Jim. ‘With the convoys running the gauntlet of the U-boats, and fish not being rationed, he thinks he can still make a living out of it.'

‘Aye, but it's a dangerous pursuit, what with all the mines in the Channel,' Ron remarked. He heaved a sigh and lit his pipe. ‘Still, it's what he knows best, and it's a waste to leave a good fishing boat idle on the beach.'

Their conversation was interrupted by Jane who came bouncing into the kitchen, her long fair plait bobbing on her back as she gave Jim a swift hug of welcome and helped herself to a bowl of porridge and cup of tea. As she chattered away to him about the lovely shire horses she looked after at the dairy, and the customers who liked to gossip as she delivered their milk, the mood lightened considerably.

Minutes after she'd left on Peggy's old bike, Rita, Suzy, Sarah and Fran came in and with cries of welcome, hugged and kissed Jim, then settled down to breakfast before they started their shifts.

As the girls quickly cleared their dishes and pulled on thick coats against the wind which was buffeting the house, they all agreed that a bit of a party had to be organised for that evening. They left the house chattering and giggling, stopping at the back gate to say goodbye to Sarah before they headed for Camden Road, the hospital and fire station.

‘Well, nothing's changed, I can see,' said Jim as he sipped his cup of tea and ruffled a swooning Harvey's ears. ‘Those girls are like a flock of starlings with all their chatter. But it livens up the house and must make good company for you, Peggy.'

Peggy shot him a wry smile. ‘They keep me on my toes, that's for certain,' she replied.

‘Aye, you said in your letters,' he grinned. ‘Fran seems to be over her broken heart, Suzy's radiant, Jane and Sarah obviously feel very at home – and little Rita is positively blooming, despite the motorcycle boots and that awful moth-eaten flying jacket she insists upon wearing. You're doing all right with those girls, Peggy.'

‘Well, it's about time you showed your face,' said Cordelia as she came into the kitchen. ‘Never mind those girls. How about a welcome hug for me?'

‘Mrs Finch! Top of the morning to you, darlin'.' Jim gave her a beaming smile. ‘How's my favourite girl, then? Have you missed me?'

‘I've missed your blarney,' she retorted, with a twinkle of mischief in her blue eyes. ‘I'd have thought the army would have knocked that out of you by now.'

He roared with laughter. ‘Ach, it would take more than the army to do that,' he said. ‘The sight of your pretty blue eyes is poetry so it is, and I can't help meself.' He carefully wrapped his arms around her and gently lifted her off her feet so he could plant a smacking kiss on both her cheeks.

Cordelia went scarlet and twittered like a flustered sparrow as she dangled in his arms. ‘Put me down, you big lummox,' she ordered as she playfully beat against his chest and failed completely to hide her delight.

‘Ach, Cordelia Finch, you're a sight for sore eyes,' Jim teased as he kept her several inches from the floor and slowly danced about the kitchen. ‘But I hear you've been walking out with someone else, and me heart is broken, so it is.'

‘That's quite enough of that,' she said, attempting to look stern. ‘Bertram and I merely play bridge now and again, and go for little rides in his car,' she went on primly. ‘I'm far too old for any other nonsense.'

Jim chuckled as he carefully set her back on her feet and made sure she was steady before he let her go. ‘To be sure you're a spring chicken, and if Da can go courting then I don't see why you can't be going tiptoe through the tulips with Bertram.'

‘Bertram does not tiptoe anywhere,' Cordelia giggled. ‘In fact he spends most of his time stomping around a golf course.'

‘I'll be thanking you to remember that Cordelia is at least a decade older than me,' grumbled Ron good-naturedly. ‘And as deaf as a post.'

‘Do you see what I have to put up with?' Cordelia asked Jim with a twinkle in her eyes, as she adjusted her half-moon spectacles and tried to look disapproving. ‘Is it any wonder I have to find some decent male company outside this house?' She looked Ron up and down and gave an exasperated sigh. ‘What Rosie Braithwaite finds to admire in him is beyond me.'

Ron stuck out his broad chest like a pouter pigeon. ‘She can see a fine figure of a man who has all his teeth and hair and can hear what she's saying,' he retorted.

‘I always knew you had an inflated idea of yourself,' Cordelia muttered without rancour as she plumped down at the table. ‘Rosie's eyesight must be failing.' She shot Ron a naughty grin to take the sting out of her words.

‘When you've all quite finished bickering,' put in a very amused Peggy, ‘it's time to finish your breakfast and make plans for this party.'

Cordelia perked up instantly. ‘We're having a party?' She clapped her hands. ‘Oh, how lovely. Will there be sherry and dancing?'

‘I don't know about the sherry,' said Peggy.

‘She had enough to sink a battleship last night, and I had to virtually carry her home,' muttered Ron.

‘I was merely a little unsteady on my feet after sitting for so long on that nasty hard chair,' protested Cordelia.

‘Well, as long as you had a good time, it doesn't matter,' said Peggy. ‘But Jim and Ron will have to clear the dining room if you want dancing. It's become a bit of a glory hole over the past few months.'

‘I might have known you'd find things for us to do,' muttered Ron. ‘No doubt you've a long list hidden somewhere.' He winced dramatically and clasped his lower spine. ‘To be sure 'tis a burden, Jim, to be bullied when this weather is playing havoc with me shrapnel.'

‘That excuse is wearing very thin,' Cordelia declared disapprovingly. ‘If you ask me, there never was any in the first place.'

‘To be sure I never asked you,' he rumbled. ‘But if you're after seeing me scar, then I'm happy to oblige.' He pulled up his shirt to reveal a taut abdomen and made to unfasten the bit of string that served as a belt to hold up his disreputable trousers.

Cordelia went scarlet once more and covered her face with her hands. ‘You'll do no such thing,' she spluttered. ‘I haven't had my breakfast yet.'

‘Ron, really,' protested Peggy, who'd swallowed her tea the wrong way and was trying to laugh and cough at the same time.

‘Well, she's questioning me war wound,' he replied with wide-eyed innocence that fooled no one. ‘It comes to something when an old soldier is mocked,' he added gloomily.

‘You're always coming the old soldier, Da,' laughed Jim, ‘and I'm thinkin' you'll not be fooling anyone in this house today.' He finished his porridge and pushed back from the table. ‘I'll be having a bath and getting dressed. Then Da and me will sort out the dining room for you, Peg.'

‘Aye, and then we'll be off to the Anchor to organise the drinks,' said Ron cheerfully.

‘I thought it wouldn't be long before you decided that,' Peggy said drily. She wagged a finger at the pair of them. ‘Just don't take all day. I know what you two are like once you start drinking.'

‘Ach, Peggy darlin', as if we'd spend all day at the Anchor when there are things to do here about the house,' Jim murmured as he kissed her cheek and shot her an impish wink.

‘Ach, Jim darlin',' she replied with a giggle, ‘as if I'm fool enough to believe I'll see either of you for the rest of the day.'

MARY HAD COME
to know the eight land girls from her previous visits to Black Briar Farm, and was genuinely touched by their sincere condolences – especially when Judy, a quiet little girl from Essex, handed her a scruffy brown paper parcel. ‘We've had a whip-round,' she said shyly before scurrying off to catch up with the others.

Mary knew that none of the girls had very much in the way of luxuries, but as she'd opened the parcel, she'd been quite overcome by their generosity. There was a pretty tortoiseshell comb to put in her hair, the end of a lovely pink lipstick, a bag of boiled sweets, a couple of rather tattered books, two headscarves and a pair of woollen gloves.

However, the girls weren't the only ones who wanted to show their sympathy in a practical and loving way, for by lunchtime there had been a stream of visitors from the village and its surrounds, who brought gifts of clothing, writing materials, books and prayer cards – and even shoes and a pair of wellingtons.

‘I feel so blessed by everyone's kindness,' she said to Barbara as they sat at the kitchen table later that morning. ‘They have little enough as it is, and yet they've given me so much.'

Barbara nodded as she regarded the pile of things on the table. ‘It's always been a close community,' she replied. ‘We like to take care of our own in times of trouble.'

Mary pulled a pretty blue sweater from the tangle. ‘But this has hardly been worn,' she breathed, ‘and neither has this skirt – or these shoes.' She blinked back the ready tears. ‘Everything is lovely,' she murmured, ‘and far nicer than anything I had before.'

‘Your parents were much loved, and so are you,' said Barbara as she scooped up the nightdresses, petticoats and a somewhat worn and faded dressing gown. ‘I'll give these a bit of a wash, while you polish up those shoes and put the rest away.' She shot Mary a wry smile. ‘The stuff you're wearing can come with us to the WVS centre this afternoon. They're bound to fit someone.'

Mary took the wellingtons and two pairs of lace-up shoes into the boot room, hunted out the brushes and tins of polish and buffed up the scuffed leather shoes until they shone. Then she returned to the kitchen to gather up her wonderfully generous gifts and carry them upstairs. The kindness that everyone had shown amazed her, and as she tried on skirts, trousers, sweaters and blouses she felt warmed by the spirit in which they'd been given.

By miraculous chance everything fitted but for the beautiful black velvet evening gown which had been donated by the doughty wife of the district councillor, who lived in a huge house just outside the village. But even that could be taken to pieces and made into something she could wear, for the velvet was soft, and still in remarkably good condition.

Mary carefully hung it in the wardrobe, folded up Barbara's clothes and then changed into a pair of grey worsted slacks, white blouse and the gorgeous blue sweater which had come from the grocer's wife. The only thing she needed now was some proper underwear – but even cheap Utility knickers, vests and bras would require clothing coupons, and as she didn't have any she'd have to ask Barbara if she could borrow some.

Brushing her hair back from her face, she twisted it into a knot and tethered it with pins before sliding in the pretty comb on one side. She briefly regarded her reflection in the dressing-table mirror and although she looked very smart in her new clothes, she could see how pale and drawn she was, with dull, almost bruised eyes that stared back at her with profound sadness. Turning away with a deep sigh, she looked out of the window and saw that the sky was leaden, with black clouds scudding over the Downs and promising rain. The bleakness of the scene echoed the grief in her heart.