While We're Apart (22 page)

‘I know you must be impatient to discover the truth, but I think it would be better if you didn't rush into anything you might come to deeply regret,' advised Barbara. She kissed the top of Mary's head. ‘You've had a nasty shock, love, and you need to come to terms with it and think carefully about what the consequences might be, should you decide to take it further.'

Mary nestled into her embrace. ‘I'll still apply for Lewes,' she promised. ‘But I'll also write off and see if there's the slightest chance of getting hold of my birth certificate.'

‘And if that proves impossible?'

‘Then I'll go to Cliffehaven.'

‘Oh, Mary,' sighed Barbara. ‘I do wish you wouldn't.'

Mary drew back from the embrace and held Barbara's hands. ‘If my application to Lewes is successful, then I'll have a year to find them. But I promise to do things properly and plan it all carefully.'

‘But you've hardly left this village, let alone travelled so far on your own,' fretted Barbara.

‘Then it's time I did,' Mary replied firmly. ‘I'll see if I can find out what sort of jobs are going in Cliffehaven before I travel all that way, and also get in touch with the billeting people. It might be a bit scary, and I'm sure there will be times when I'll wish I was back here with you. But I have to do this, Auntie Barbara, really I do.'

Barbara sat back and regarded Mary with deep concern. ‘You've already made up your mind about this, haven't you?'

Mary nodded. ‘I've had all night to think about it, and I'm sorry if it's upsetting you, but I won't be able to rest until I've done all I can to find at least one of them and get some answers.'

‘How long do you think you might stay in Cliffehaven, Mary? And what if neither of them can be traced?'

‘If they can't be traced, then I'll come home. But someone in Cliffehaven must remember Cyril, or at least have heard of him. And an unmarried girl with a new baby would have caused a certain amount of gossip – especially if Cyril had set her up in a flat and then she'd run off leaving him literally holding the baby.'

‘Oh, Mary, you've opened a Pandora's box by looking in that trunk. I wish Joseph had never found it.'

‘I'm glad he did,' said Mary decidedly. ‘Those diaries have explained a lot of things, and once I can fill in the gaps I'll feel whole again and ready to face the future.'

‘You're being very brave,' murmured Barbara, ‘but I still don't like the thought of you being on your own so far from home. Christmas is only eight weeks off, and that's no time to be away from people who love you. I think we should discuss this with Joseph.'

Mary gave Barbara a hug. ‘I'd like that, but it won't change my mind, Auntie Barbara.'

‘No, I can see that.' She gave a deep sigh and reached for Mary's dressing gown. ‘Let's go down and make a start on breakfast. Joseph will be home soon, and I can already hear the girls out in the yard.'

Peggy had been on tenterhooks for the past few days, rushing to answer the telephone every time it rang in the hope there was news of Anne's safe delivery of her new baby. She was beginning to worry as the due date came and went, and tried to find comfort in the fact that babies arrived when they were ready, and some could be much more reluctant to be born than others.

‘I do wish that baby would hurry up,' she said to Cordelia as she ironed the pillowcases. ‘Poor Anne is almost two weeks overdue now, and I'm beginning to worry that something isn't right.'

‘What's that, dear?' Cordelia fiddled with her hearing aid. ‘I do wish you wouldn't mutter.'

Peggy repeated what she had said loudly and clearly and then gave a deep sigh. ‘And I wish you wouldn't keep turning that thing off, Cordelia.'

‘I like a bit of peace and quiet,' she replied with a sniff. ‘What with all the shenanigans of those girls racketing about in the other room, it's hard to hear oneself think at times.'

Peggy smiled and carried on with her ironing. Rita and Jane were in the dining room playing their new records and practising their dance steps for the evening's party at the old drill hall. It had been organised by the RAF to celebrate Cliffehaven's purchase of a Spitfire, which would fly over this afternoon to show off the town's name on its side.

‘It's all thanks to Rita that the town has its own Spitfire,' said Peggy. ‘If it hadn't been for all those motorcycle races she's been holding, it wouldn't have been possible. I think she's earned a couple of hours of noise, don't you?'

‘I suppose so,' Cordelia admitted grudgingly, ‘but I don't see why it has to be so loud.'

Peggy had to grin at this, for Cordelia would turn the volume right up on the wireless when her favourite tunes were being played, and she was amazed the neighbours hadn't complained. ‘Come on, Cordelia,' she coaxed. ‘It's not like you to be grumpy.'

Cordelia sighed. ‘I know, but it's so cold and damp and my arthritis is playing up, and to be honest, I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself this morning.'

Peggy put down the iron and gave her soft cheek a kiss. ‘I'm sorry you aren't feeling quite the ticket. Let me reheat that hot-water bottle and make us both a nice cup of tea.'

‘That would be lovely, dear. You are kind.'

Peggy checked that Daisy was still happy with her toys in the playpen and had just refilled the stone bottle and made the tea when someone knocked on the front door. Thinking one of the girls might go and answer it, she waited for a moment, then heard the knock again.

Clucking with amusement, she went out into the hall and opened the door to find her friend Betty Fuller on the doorstep, dressed in her Post Office uniform and laden with an enormous box. ‘Goodness me, Betty. That looks heavy.'

‘It is,' said Betty, who was red-faced with the effort of carrying it. ‘I'll put it on there, if that's all right.' She didn't wait for Peggy's reply and deposited the box on the hall chair. ‘You've got to sign for it, Peg.'

‘Gosh, whatever can it be?' Peggy hastily signed the chit and took a closer look at the parcel. ‘Oh, how lovely. She'll be thrilled.'

Betty grinned. ‘It's one of the best things about this job, delivering nice surprise parcels, and I've got several airgraphs for you too.'

‘Goodness, that was quick,' Peggy said as she eagerly took the brown envelopes. ‘Jim's only been gone for a few weeks.'

‘Well the new Kodak processing place is open for business on the factory estate now, so I suppose they can be developed a lot quicker. I hear there are other places opening up all over the country, so it's quite an operation.'

‘It's the Post Office in charge then?'

‘Sort of. They've joined forces with the Royal Engineers Postal Services.' Betty looked at her watch. ‘I'd better get on, or I'll get it in the neck from my supervisor.' She grinned as she cocked her head at the music. ‘It sounds like someone's having fun. Are you going to the dance tonight?'

‘I certainly am,' said Peggy, who was now impatient to see what was in the parcel and to read her letters. ‘Ta ta for now,' she called as Betty ran down the steps to her Post Office van.

She slipped the airgraphs into her apron pocket. With some difficulty, she carried the box into the kitchen, relieved to put it down on the table. ‘Look what came for you just now,' she said excitedly to Cordelia.

‘For me?' Cordelia's eyes widened as she stared at the large box. ‘But I never get anything in the post.'

‘Well you have now, and it has come all the way from Canada. Will you please hurry up and open it? I'm dying to see what's inside.'

‘Canada?' Cordelia's little face became quite pink with pleasure. Her sons and their families lived there, and weren't at all good at keeping in touch.

Peggy helped her to struggle out of her chair and then rushed to find a knife to cut through the string. Carefully harvesting the brown paper and string, she slit through the heavy tape that held the box flaps together and waited breathlessly for Cordelia to delve inside.

‘There's a letter,' she said eagerly, ‘and, oh dear, my clumsy old fingers make it so hard to open anything.'

Peggy slit open the thick envelope and discovered it contained three letters, a number of photographs and some childishly drawn greetings cards. ‘Oh, Cordelia,' she sighed happily. ‘It looks as if your family have all sent you something.'

‘Goodness me,' said a tearful Cordelia as she examined the children's cards and looked at the small black and white photographs. ‘Look, those are my sons – and they must be their wives – and children – and grandchildren. Don't they all look well? And isn't that a fine house? Canada has certainly done them proud.'

Peggy regarded the happy family gathering with some distaste, for poor Cordelia had rarely had any letters from them and this was the first time in many years that they'd bothered to send photographs, let alone presents. ‘Yes, they all look very prosperous and pleased with themselves,' she said drily.

Cordelia's soft hand rested on Peggy's arm. ‘Don't be angry with them on my behalf, Peggy. I know they have their own busy lives to lead, and I'm glad they took the opportunity to make a better future for themselves by going so far from home. I write regularly and keep them up-to-date with my news, so they know they don't have to worry about me.'

‘It all seems a bit . . .'

‘I know,' Cordelia soothed, ‘but not every family is as close as yours, and I accepted long ago that it's just the way things are.' She smiled impishly. ‘Now, let's see what they've sent. It's a bit like an early Christmas, isn't it?'

Peggy helped her dive into the box, and they gasped in awe and delight as they pulled out a large tin of ham, another of strawberry jam, one of marmalade and three of tuna in oil. There was a tin of biscuits, two tins of tea and coffee and another of evaporated milk, which was an absolute luxury. Beneath the sturdy bags of dried fruit and nuts was a tin of chocolates and some lovely pale blue writing paper and envelopes.

In the bottom of the box were several skeins of beautifully soft new wool, steel knitting needles, a packet of pins, another of sewing needles and a length of tweed fabric the colour of lavender heather. A pair of suede fur-lined gloves and matching hat completed the bounty, and Peggy and Cordelia sat at the kitchen table in stunned silence as they regarded everything.

‘Well,' said Cordelia, ‘I shall look terrifically smart in my new hat and gloves, and that tweed will make you a lovely skirt.'

‘It will do no such thing,' protested Peggy. ‘That tweed is for you, and there's probably enough there for a skirt and a little jacket. If Sally has time, I'll ask her to make them so you'll have something new and smart to wear to Suzy's wedding.'

‘I expect she'll be too busy with that new baby of hers,' said Cordelia. ‘Dear little thing, I'm so very glad she's settled down and is so happy with John Hicks. When I think of how she was when she and Ernie were evacuated down here . . .' She pulled her thoughts together. ‘I'd advise you to hide that food before Ron gets back. You know what he's like, and that ham will come to good use at the wedding reception.'

‘Cordelia, that's very generous of you,' said Peggy as she began to gather everything up. ‘But these are your gifts, and
you
should enjoy them, not give them all away.'

Cordelia stared at her. ‘Good heavens, Peggy, just what do you expect me to do? Sit and eat ham and chocolate biscuits while you have rabbit stew or dried egg?' She gave a grunt. ‘Really, you are a silly girl sometimes. Now hide all that before everyone comes home and descends on it like a plague of locusts. But keep the chocolate biscuits out. We can have a couple with our tea, and the girls deserve a bit of a treat.'

‘I'll keep it all in my wardrobe,' Peggy said.

As she left the kitchen the music came to an abrupt halt, and Rita and Jane came flying out of the dining room to dash upstairs and sort through what they would wear for the evening. Peggy's smile was wistful. It was lovely to have the girls about, but it reminded her of the kerfuffle that Cissy and Anne had always made before an evening out, when they'd been younger and carefree.

When she returned to the kitchen she found Cordelia happily immersed in her letters, so she put a blanket over a sleeping Daisy, sat down and drew the airgraphs from her apron pocket. They were so small, barely two inches wide and three inches long, and what with Jim's writing being so cramped, and the censor blacking out most of it, they were almost impossible to read.

Peggy managed to glean the fact he'd left Liverpool as scheduled to join the vast convoy which would soon set out for the Far East. It had been a terrific thrill to be on board a large ship and to watch all the tugs hauling other ships into Belfast harbour to join them. The food had turned out to be not too bad, but the tea was served without milk, which he hadn't liked at all.

He'd spent that first evening playing nap, and had won nine shillings, but the wind and rain had churned up the sea making the ship roll quite alarmingly, which soon made him and several of the other men feel very sick. It was hot and stuffy below decks, and he'd found it impossible to sleep in the hammock that was one of hundreds slung side by side, with their kit on a rack above their heads. He was already missing her.

The second airgraph made her smile. Jim had been elected Mess Orderly, but had got out of this onerous job by persuading a Major and a Lieutenant Colonel to take him on as their Batman. The Marines on board had got drunk on their rum ration and started a fight which ended up with one man being put in irons.

The rules were stiff and several men had been put on charge for smoking between decks. He'd been paid ten shillings wages, and had won another eight at cards, so was feeling very pleased with himself, and having turned his hammock to another position, had managed to get a good night's sleep in which he'd dreamed about Peggy.