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‘Ooh, who’s counting?’ Peggy didn’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed that her best friend had noted exactly how much of the evening she’d spent in the soldier’s arms. ‘Anyway they’ll all be off soon, so nothing will come of it. They’re just passing through.’ More’s the pity, she thought.
She fiddled with her clip-on earring; it had become tangled in her hair, which she had worn loose for once. It wasn’t a valuable earring, just paste, but she liked it – it was one of a pair Pete had given her for a birthday years before. She didn’t want to lose it. God knew she had little enough to remember him by.
‘Peggy?’
She was shaken from her memories by the voice at her side. It was the soldier.
‘You want me to walk you home?’ His voice was warm. ‘I’d be happy to do so.’ He gave a small grin.
‘No … no, you don’t need to bother. I’m with my friends.’ She nodded across to where Clarrie and Belinda were tying on their scarves.
‘It’s no bother.’ His smile grew and she had a sharp feeling of certainty that he meant it. Her knees weakened at that voice and those melting eyes. But he was just passing through.
‘Thanks, though.’ She wanted to prolong the moment a little longer.
‘Peggy, come on, we have to get the late bus,’ Clarrie called. People were milling all around them, all keen to catch the transport while they had the chance. The building was noisy, its once-smart gold paint now cracked and shabby in the dull light.
The soldier nodded. ‘You got good friends. I’m glad, cos I wouldn’t want no harm to come to you.’ He reached into his uniform pocket and brought out a small notebook and pencil. ‘Can I write to you, Peggy? Will you write to me? I’ll put down my address here, so you don’t forget me. The name’s James, in case that’s slipped your mind already.’
‘I don’t …’ Peggy was going to protest that there was no point, they’d had a fun evening and that was that, but then she asked herself what harm could it do? Maybe he would come through London again. He might be one of the lucky ones. ‘Yes, all right,’ she said. ‘Here, give me that, I’ll write it down.’ She hastily scribbled down the address of the house in which she lived with Pete’s mother, wondering if it was a betrayal of her late husband.
‘I’ll be sure to take good care of it,’ James assured her, tucking the notebook back into his pocket. ‘You do the same, now.’ His eyes flashed with good humour.
‘Peggy, come on!’ Clarrie was losing patience.
‘I’d better go.’ Peggy felt rooted to the spot. The noise of the crowds seemed like miles away; even the irritated sound of her best friend couldn’t pierce the shell around the pair of them.
‘Be seeing you,’ said James lightly, but in such a way that she knew he meant it. ‘I hope so anyway. So long now.’
‘So long.’ Peggy took a step away, raising her hand in a silly wave. She watched him turn and rejoin his friends, then was conscious of Clarrie tugging on her arm, and the spell was broken. ‘Yes, yes, coming, don’t fuss.’
The three young women hurried from the dance hall, along with scores of others, many in uniform, all buzzing from their night out. The bus stop was only a short distance away and, judging from the number of people there already, one must be due any moment.
‘Thank God for that, I hate waiting around in the cold after going dancing,’ grumbled Clarrie.
‘I know what you mean,’ Peggy muttered absently, her thoughts elsewhere.
‘Yes, you got quite overheated there,’ Clarrie said, raising her eyebrows.
‘Stop it. I was only having a bit of fun. You were dancing with plenty of men yourself – in fact the pair of you were.’ Peggy felt around for the small page from the notebook in her pocket.
Belinda chuckled. ‘Well, that’s why we came out, isn’t it? There were a few decent dancers there. Most of them a bit short for me, though. I don’t think I’ll ever find a man tall enough.’
‘What’s that game they play over there? Basketball, isn’t it? You need a basketball player,’ Clarrie said with certainty. ‘Look, isn’t that our bus? Quick, head for the top deck.’
Swiftly they climbed onto the bus and up the stairs, finding three seats together at the back.
‘What was that last song you were dancing to?’ Clarrie demanded, her eyes sharp as she observed Peggy’s response.
Peggy looked down at her hands. ‘“Whispering Grass”,’ she said slowly.
‘That’s by the Ink Spots, isn’t it? Your favourites.’
‘That’s right.’ Peggy’s mouth curved in a slight smile. They were her favourite singers and that was their best song. She’d never had the chance to dance to it with Pete but had often imagined doing so. She stared out of the window at the dim shapes just visible in the blackout and hummed the tune to herself, oblivious to Belinda and Clarrie’s teasing. They could say what they liked. This had been an evening to remember.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_13d7979a-3590-5743-b24f-b0f1a8a9fccc)
April 1942
‘I should have guessed this is where you’d be if you weren’t at the home.’
Alice pushed back the sleeves of her old jumper with muddy hands and squinted into the springtime sunshine, unable to properly make out the figure who called to her from the cracked pavement. But she knew that voice, despite not having heard it for far too long.
‘Joe! You’re back! You’re here! Why didn’t you say you had leave?’ She rushed across the vegetable beds of the victory garden and up the little slope that marked the boundary. Then she stopped short. ‘But … you’re injured.’ She took a breath. ‘What happened? Should you be here – haven’t they told you to rest?’ Anxiety creased her forehead as she reached to touch his arm, but then dropped her hand as she realised it was covered in earth. All the same her instinct was to stretch out and make contact, to convince herself that he really was there, and not a figment of her imagination. He was rarely far from her mind, even if there was nothing she could do to ensure his safety.
‘I’m on the mend, don’t worry.’ Joe automatically glanced down at the cast around his left leg, and gripped more tightly onto his walking stick. He hoped what he said was true and that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by stumbling. Then he looked up again and met Alice’s concerned gaze and smiled broadly. ‘Honestly, I’m all right. I’m much better. It’s just a broken leg and they say it’s going to be fine.’
Alice frowned. Trust Joe to make light of it. She didn’t want to panic him but he must be in pain, and that cut her to the quick. ‘Shouldn’t you at least be on crutches? I’m not sure that a stick—’
‘Alice, don’t worry,’ Joe said hastily. That was the trouble with nurses. They never stopped doing their job. ‘I’ve been on crutches for weeks and I’m sick of them. They get in the way. People fall over them. I’d never have managed on a crowded train. Whereas with a stick, I can get around more easily and yet still get a seat. Works wonders, being a wounded sailor. You should try it.’ His eyes danced with merriment.
‘Maybe I will.’ She grinned, more relieved to see him than she cared to admit, a little more reassured now that he didn’t seem to be in agony. ‘Do you need to sit down now? We have some wooden boxes somewhere …’
Joe looked at the slope and the uneven ground beyond and shook his head. ‘No, and I can’t stay long. I just wanted to see how you were and to find out if you have plans for tomorrow.’
Alice took in how his appearance had changed since she last saw him. He had lost a little weight, she thought, although he was still tall and muscular, but he’d acquired more lines on his face. She could guess that he had indeed been in considerable pain recently. ‘Some of us thought we’d go to the special Easter service at church in the morning. Then maybe a walk, if it stays fine.’ She paused. She didn’t want to dig up bad memories but she had to know. He was too important to her. ‘Go on, tell me, put me out of my misery. How did it happen?’
Joe sighed. ‘All right. We were part of a convoy across the Atlantic and we got hit by a U-boat. I was lucky, I got out with only a broken leg – well, and a few cuts and bruises. Some of my crewmates died.’ She gasped in horror and he hastily continued. ‘We weren’t in the water for long, we got rescued by an American ship, it could have been far worse.’ He looked away, unable to watch her face as she took it in. He didn’t want to see her distress. ‘Then we got brought back to port and I’ve been laid up ever since.’
‘Joe …’ She rested her hand on his arm, regardless of the mud. She struggled to find words to encompass the terror of what he must have been through, and failed. ‘We had no idea …’
‘No. Well.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Didn’t want to worry anyone, did I? And as you can see, I’m almost as good as new. This will mend in no time.’ He smiled, to try to convince her. ‘So will you come for dinner tomorrow? Ma’s planning one of her specials, and she’ll be mortally offended if you turn her down.’
Alice nodded immediately. ‘I wouldn’t dream of saying no. I can bring a contribution too – as you can see, we’ve been busy with the vegetables. We’ve got the last of the leeks, and I was just sowing the new lot when you got here.’ At least there was something practical she could offer.
Joe nodded appreciatively. ‘Ma would love that. As long as we aren’t depriving you. Will you ask Edith as well?’
Alice looked over his shoulder. ‘You can ask her yourself.’
Edith had come around the corner and was waving a brown paper bag at Alice. ‘Found them! I’d put them in my drawer after that seed swap … Joe! Oh my goodness! Is that really you?’ She ran towards him and then halted abruptly, realising he was leaning heavily on a walking stick. ‘What happened?’
‘Good to see you, Edith.’ He grinned affectionately at the diminutive young woman who would one day be his sister-in-law. ‘I’ll let Alice explain my mishap, and then with luck we can talk properly tomorrow – you will come to dinner, won’t you?’
‘Just you try and stop me!’ Edith beamed. ‘Wait, you’re not off already, are you? I’ve only now got here.’
Joe shrugged. ‘Sorry, but I’m needed back at home.’ He kept his smile steady, not wanting to reveal that the short walk from Jeeves Street had cost him more than he had thought. He would have to sit down very soon and not try to go so far next time. He’d half-planned to ask Alice to come to their old café with him, but now that was out of the question. How he hated being a semi-invalid. He didn’t know how his brother Harry bore it. ‘Sorry to leave so soon but it’s good to see you, it really is.’
Edith nodded and Alice looked at him straight in the eye, realising what the problem was. ‘Yes, you’d better get back, you don’t want to make your leg any worse than it is,’ she said seriously. She could see how his face was becoming more drawn by the minute. ‘Why don’t I come with you and tell you everything you’ve missed these last few months. And of course we’ll be there tomorrow, and we’ll arrive early so we can help cook the leeks. Can’t wait.’
‘Yes, give your parents my love,’ Edith said, her eyes growing darker as it dawned on her that the tall man in front of her was in increasing pain. ‘You get home and have a good sit down, do you hear? Let Alice take your arm. That’s my professional advice and you ignore it at your peril.’
‘I wouldn’t dare,’ said Joe.
It was almost like old times around the big table in the Banham kitchen, except for the absence of Harry and Lennie. Flo was determined to make it special, and had invited Kathleen, Billy and Brian as well as the two nurses to join the family. She had managed to persuade one of the stallholders at Ridley Road market to get her a large chicken, which she had roasted, along with carrots and potatoes, now glistening and golden. Even better, as Alice got there early as promised with her big bundle of leeks, she had made soup for them to start with, and the savoury aroma had made everyone’s stomachs rumble in anticipation.
Flo had reacted with horror when Alice offered to cook the soup. ‘Never let it be said that a guest in my house had to make their own food with ingredients they brought themselves,’ she scolded. ‘As if you aren’t on your feet every day of the week. You go and have a nice cup of tea and I’ll see to that soup.’ She had wiped her hands firmly on her old apron, worn to protect her Sunday best outfit. Alice recognised the maroon blouse with a pattern of daisies as the one Flo had worn for Kathleen’s wedding.
So Alice had retreated to the parlour with her cup and saucer from Flo’s best set, brought out in honour of the day, where she found Joe in an armchair by the window, facing the street.
‘Don’t get up,’ she said hurriedly, but too late, Joe was already rising. He was leaning on his stick, but she could see less heavily than yesterday. He really shouldn’t have tried to walk to the victory garden and back, she thought, but didn’t say so. By the time they had reached his parents’ house he had been all but silent, all his energy going into putting one foot in front of the other.
‘Can’t let my manners slip just because of a broken leg.’ his usual grin was a little laboured. ‘Sorry about yesterday. Tried to do too much too soon.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Alice said, setting down her cup on a side table and pulling across another chair to join him. ‘Shall I fetch you a cup of tea?’
‘Good God, no. Ma’s been bringing me tea ever since I set foot through the door. Not that I don’t appreciate it but you can have enough.’ He sat down again, pulling a face. ‘So, tell me your news, but properly this time. I didn’t really take it in yesterday.’
She leaned back and smiled, taking in the welcome sight of him looking less haggard, better rested, bringing back the colour to his intelligent face. His dark hair had been freshly cropped into its regulation service style, but his deep brown eyes were relaxed, without the sharp edge she’d detected yesterday.
‘Stop looking at me like I’m one of your patients.’
‘I’m not.’ She blushed a little and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
‘You are. I can tell.’
‘Oh, all right. I can’t help it. I’m bound to be concerned – you’ve been away so long and then you turn up with a broken leg and horrific story about how it happened.’ She shifted a little in her chair. ‘Anyway, you’ve heard everything in my letters. We’re just glad the raids seem to have stopped, for now at least. You’d better tell me the rest of your news though.’
Joe nodded and grew serious. ‘As it’s just us … I don’t want to make my parents more worried than they already are.’ He paused and then went on. ‘It seemed for a while as if we were getting better at working out where the U-boats were, and there were fewer attacks. But now we’re suffering more of them and we aren’t able to predict their movements like before.’
Alice wrinkled her nose in concentration. ‘So what’s changed?’
Joe looked a little uneasy. ‘I can’t really say …’
‘But if I guessed that someone from the Allies had worked out how their signals were coded,’ Alice said slowly, feeling her way carefully through her train of thought, ‘and then the Germans realised their code had been broken and so altered it, would I be right?’
Joe smiled wryly. ‘You haven’t changed a bit, Alice.’
She exhaled deeply and then looked at him with a quizzical expression. ‘So is that what you do, Joe?’
She knew Joe had exceeded what might have been expected of a boy growing up in the heart of Dalston, by winning a place at technical college and then training as an engineer with the Post Office, before deciding his talents would be best put to the nation’s service by enlisting in the navy. Flo and Stan were extremely proud of their son’s achievements and feared that his golden future might be curtailed by the risks he ran. Yet they would have it no other way; the country needed talent like Joe’s.
Now he gazed out of the window before answering. ‘Not quite. The real brainboxes stay on land, working behind desks. They’d never be able to think straight on board a ship like ours – well, what it used to be like. No, but someone’s got to put their ideas into practice, and that’s more or less what I do. There. Now you know. Not to be mentioned outside this room.’
Alice briefly shut her eyes to absorb this new knowledge. Her admiration for the man grew even stronger. ‘Of course not,’ she breathed. She realised her pulse had quickened. What danger he must be in, for so much of the time. But she didn’t want to give away that worry. He was home to recuperate, not be burdened with her concern. ‘Well then, you’d better not ruin your chances of getting back to it by walking too far on that leg of yours.’ Her eyes met his as he turned away from the window, and again she felt that jolt of connection that went beyond words.
‘Yes, nurse,’ he said mock-meekly, and they laughed, just as the door opened.
‘Here they are!’ Edith sang out, and Gillian rushed in, keen to see her uncle on his all-too-rare visit. ‘Mind his leg, duck. And here’s Alan.’ Edith held the little boy, now eighteen months old, in her arms and beamed at him as he waved his hands. ‘Can you say “Joe”? Try it.’
‘Ow-ow-ow,’ said Alan obligingly, smart in his checked shirt and flannel shorts that Alice thought must be made from one of his mother’s worn-out skirts. As Edith was distracted by the baby and showing him to his uncle, Alice noticed her friend’s face. Delight was written all over it, in a way that she never showed when at work. Alice wondered with a start how long it would be before Edith could marry her Harry and have a child of her own.
Then there was no time to think further about it as the food was ready and they were all summoned into the kitchen, drawn by the irresistible smells of delicious soup, overlaid by roasting chicken. Alice quietly made sure that Joe could sit at the end of the big table and rest his stick in one corner, while the others settled onto the mismatch of chairs as best they could. Gillian and Brian proudly perched on plump cushions placed on dining chairs and Alan was placed in the high chair.
‘Don’t give him more than one potato at a time,’ his mother Mattie warned as she cleared away the soup bowls, ‘or he’s liable to throw them at you. He thinks it’s a great game.’ She frowned lovingly at him as she helped her own mother pass the platters laden with vegetables. ‘Here, Billy, try some carrots.’
Billy heaped Kathleen’s plate before his own, passing the platter to Alice. She caught the look that passed between them and wondered what it meant. They seemed to be full of suppressed excitement, beyond the thought of one of Flo’s famous special dinners. She wondered what it could be. All in good time, she told herself, piling carrots onto Joe’s plate.
‘You don’t have to do that – it’s my leg that’s broken, not my arm,’ he protested, half putting out a hand to stop her.
‘I’ve done it now,’ she grinned, registering the warmth of his hand as it brushed against her own.
‘Tuck in, everyone. Let’s not stand on ceremony,’ Stan urged them, and nobody needed to be told twice.
It wasn’t until Mattie led the two toddlers into the back kitchen to have their hands and faces wiped at the end of the meal that Billy let slip the secret.
‘There’ll be another one to clear up after soon,’ he laughed, and then clapped his hand over his mouth, realising what he’d said. Kathleen began to nod and then saw that everyone was staring at them.
‘Really, Kath? Is that why you’ve been eating like a bird?’ Edith demanded. ‘I wondered what was up. Aren’t you the dark horse?’
‘Congratulations, that’s wonderful news,’ said Flo warmly. ‘How lovely, a brother or sister for Brian. When is it due?’
‘In the late summer,’ said Kathleen, leaving the date deliberately vague. She knew that nobody around this table would judge her, but wanted to get into the habit of giving that answer. She was fairly sure that if anybody counted, they would know that this baby had been conceived before the December wedding. She hoped that if it was late then no one would bat an eyelid. Whenever it arrived, she knew it would be loved by everybody here.
‘Well done, Billy.’ Joe jokingly punched his friend’s arm. ‘Good job you had plenty of practice going without sleep in the raids. You won’t get a full night’s kip now.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ said Billy, trying to look regretful and failing.
Once again Alice caught the look on Edith’s face, similar to the one she’d noticed when her friend was carrying Alan earlier that afternoon. Sooner or later, Edith was going to want a family of her own. Alice didn’t want to think about it; she had relied on Edith ever since they’d met on their first day of specialist training to become district nurses. They had been inseparable ever since. Of course she had known that this could not continue for ever, especially when Edith became serious about Harry. But there had been so many changes in those few short years; this felt like one too many.
‘Is something wrong?’ Joe murmured, giving her a careful glance. He edged a little closer to her.
‘No, nothing at all,’ Alice assured him, keeping her voice low so that nobody else could hear it over the buzz of congratulations. ‘Everything is lovely. Such a wonderful meal.’ She could feel the warmth emanating from him.
‘Good,’ he said, watching her keenly.
For a moment she fervently wished that he could stay for longer than his brief leave, that she could share her cares and worries with him and he would tell her not to be so silly. He could always put things into perspective for her. Yet that was impossible. She must not even think about it. Gratefully she looked at him and absorbed his warmth while she still could.
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_11c1ca97-08ac-5dc7-8e28-bfcb7682482f)
Peggy was bored. Mrs Cannon had tried to persuade her to go to church on Easter Sunday morning but she hadn’t attended. There seemed no point. It was at moments like these, when families traditionally gathered together, that she missed Pete most keenly. Mrs Cannon had been a little disappointed but hadn’t pressed her. ‘I’ve been invited to eat with my WVS friends afterwards,’ she’d said. ‘Would you like to come too?’
Peggy had only just avoided shuddering in front of her mother-in-law. To sit and talk about knitting for hours at a time was her idea of torture. Now she sat at the kitchen table with the wireless on in the background, the Halle orchestra blazing away, staring blankly out of the window into the small yard.
Perhaps she should copy Mattie’s example and grow a few things. That would give her something to do and Mrs Cannon would appreciate it. It would be an excuse to get outdoors, now that the raids had stopped. Mattie had said she could have some seeds, and Edith could maybe get more from those seed swaps she went to. Peggy sighed. She’d never grown anything before and wasn’t sure if she could start now.
She glanced down at her hands. Her skin was pale, and prone to freckles. Her nails were short, necessary for working in the factory. Nail polish was hard to come by and she hadn’t bothered for ages. Just one more thing lost in the misery of the war. For two pins she could have burst into tears.
There was a knock at the door.
