Always in My Heart (18 page)

‘I thought Ron and ’is boys was going fishing for their supper?’ he said.

‘They are,’ she replied, ‘but there’s no guarantee they’ll actually catch anything.’

He winked at her and selected the sausages off one of the tin trays that were lined up beneath the glass counter. He glanced into the pram as he wrapped them and the packet of lard in newspaper. ‘Daisy’s coming on a treat, ain’t she?’ he said, his Cockney accent still as strong as ever, even after thirty years of living in Cliffehaven. ‘Reminds me of me own nipper when she were that age. Proper little madam, I can tell you, but she’s turned out all right. Joined the flaming navy of all things,’ he said proudly as he handed over the parcel with another wink. ‘Mind ’ow ya go, Peg, and give me regards to Ron.’

‘You mind how you go, Alf,’ she said with a meaningful look as she handed over the food stamps and money.

She could still hear him laughing as she wheeled the pram outside and headed back to Beach View. She’d had enough fresh air, her feet were like blocks of ice despite the fur-lined boots, and Daisy was waking up, no doubt with a dirty nappy and a raging hunger.

As she walked back along Camden Road she had to stop repeatedly to talk to the friends and neighbours who wanted to look at Daisy and exchange a few pleasantries. Peggy was soon chilled to the bone, and as she’d heard all the gossip and was growing a bit tired of saying the same thing over and over, she didn’t stop again, just waved hello and kept on walking. But as she passed the Anchor pub she saw something that made her slow down.

Tommy Findlay was having a heated exchange with Eileen Harris, who worked for the local council. Eileen was clearly no pushover and was giving Tommy a right earful, and Peggy would have loved to stop to listen in, but unfortunately she was far too visible to the pair of them. She walked very slowly, hoping to catch the gist of their argument, but as she was on the other side of the road, the wind kept whipping their words away.

Tommy looked up and caught sight of her, and Peggy ducked her head and walked quickly on. She had no wish to get involved, for she didn’t think much of either of them and thought they deserved one another. She carried on at a fast pace until she’d reached the junction.

Eileen Harris was the sister of Julie, who’d been billeted with Peggy for a few months the previous year. Julie had been a lovely girl, but she’d gone back to London just before Christmas to continue her midwifery, and Peggy still missed her. There had been a falling out between the sisters initially, but they’d made it up before Julie had left. Peggy had had to keep her mouth shut when Julie had believed Eileen’s lies, for family ties were important and Julie needed someone to call her own after her parents had been killed in the Blitz. But Eileen was a bitch, a selfish, lying cow, and if Tommy’s sudden appearance in Cliffehaven had upset her, then it served her right.

Peggy’s jag of fury was short-lived as she headed for the twitten and pushed the pram along the muddy
path to the back gate. Daisy was crying now and waving her arms about. It was time to forget about Eileen and Tommy and the trouble they’d caused all those years ago, and to see to her daughter’s needs.

Daisy was now nine weeks old, with a good appetite and a very loud cry when she wanted something. She waved her arms and legs about, kicking off the blanket and wailing as Peggy grabbed the string bag of shopping, lifted her out and carried her up the steps to the kitchen.

‘Good heavens,’ said Cordelia, who was sitting by the fire as she sewed a button back on Ron’s shirt. ‘Someone’s not happy.’

Peggy dropped the shopping on the draining board, placed the screaming baby safely in the other armchair and pulled off her outer layers. ‘We’re both cold and hungry,’ she said above the yells. ‘The queues were endless as usual, and it’s freezing out there.’ She warmed her hands by the fire and looked at the clock on the mantel. It was quite shocking how quickly the day had gone, for it was almost two o’clock. No wonder Daisy was starving.

She quickly folded a towel and placed it on the table. Having fetched a clean nappy, baby powder and a tub of petroleum jelly from the cupboard in her bedroom, she changed Daisy’s nappy. ‘There’s a fresh packet of tea in there,’ she said as she sat down and pulled off Daisy’s woollen hat and mittens. ‘I could do with a cup and no mistake – but the buns are for tonight.’

As Cordelia bustled about making the tea and a
sandwich for Peggy’s lunch, Peggy fed her daughter. Warming nicely by the fire, she leaned back in the chair, eyes closed as the blissful silence descended, and she began to relax at last.

Cordelia put the cup of tea close to Peggy’s elbow, then she finished sewing the button on, folded the shirt and set it aside. There were still more buttons to replace and patches to be sewn in Ron’s disreputable clothes, but her eyes were getting tired now.

She took off her half-moon glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. She seemed to feel tired all the time just lately, but as she looked fondly at Peggy, she realised she wasn’t the only one. Poor Peggy was clearly exhausted, and trying to do far too much as usual, and Cordelia felt cross with herself for being so selfish. If only she could do more to help, she fretted – but age and arthritis meant she was slow and clumsy, and standing in queues in this freezing weather was beyond her. It was an absolute nuisance being old, but then the alternative of being six feet under in the local graveyard didn’t appeal to her at all.

She was about to pick up the next shirt to mend when there was a knock at the front door. ‘You stay there, Peggy,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ll go.’

It took her a while to get to the front door, even with her walking stick, for she’d been sitting for too long and her knees had stiffened up. The nice-looking young man who towered over her on the doorstep looked familiar, but Cordelia couldn’t quite place him. ‘Yes?’ she asked.

‘Hello, Mrs Finch,’ he said as he took off his hat. ‘It’s me, Anthony Williams. Doris’s son.’

‘What a lovely surprise,’ she said and stepped back so he could come into the hall. Slamming the door on the howling gale that was tearing up from the seafront, she looked up at him eagerly. ‘Do you have any news of my nephew?’

‘I do, as it happens, but can we go into the kitchen? My feet are like ice after that long bike ride from Castle Hill.’

Cordelia dithered, as it wasn’t proper to let the young man into the kitchen while Peggy was feeding Daisy – but she couldn’t possibly keep him in the hall, or take him into the dining room, which was little more than a glory hole now.

And then Peggy rescued her by calling out for them to come into the warm. ‘I’m quite decent,’ she said with a laugh as they walked in. ‘And Daisy has stopped bawling, so we can all enjoy a sensible conversation without having to raise our voices.’

Cordelia sat and watched as Anthony approached the playpen in the corner where Daisy lay beneath her pink blanket, surrounded by her soft toys, rattles and rag books. He tickled her tummy, and she kicked her legs and giggled, and Anthony smiled down at her.

Such a sweet smile
, thought Cordelia. How on earth the truly awful Doris could have produced such a handsome, gentle son, she had no idea.

Anthony unwound his college scarf from his neck and shrugged off his thick coat. ‘With that curly dark
hair and those brown eyes, she looks just like you, Aunt Peg,’ he said with a soft smile. ‘How are you coping?’

‘All things considering, we’re managing very well,’ she replied, ‘but that’s enough about me and Daisy. I can see that Cordelia is bursting to hear what you’ve discovered, so sit down and tell her while I freshen the pot of tea.’

Cordelia looked into his dark brown eyes and felt a spark of hope as he smiled at her. ‘You’ve found him, haven’t you?’ she asked.

‘In a roundabout way,’ he said as he pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘But it was someone else who did all the hard work. You see, a friend put me onto a chap he knew, and he did the research. Jock Fuller was still living on a rubber plantation in Malaya when the hostilities broke out with Japan. He has a wife, Sybil, and two daughters. Sarah is nineteen and Jane is seventeen.’

Cordelia experienced a sharp pang of distress. ‘Are they safe? Did they manage to get away from the Japanese?’

He smiled as he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a brown envelope. ‘I happened to be at home when the postman came. He knew you’d moved in here some time ago, but as we’re Peggy’s family, he thought it would be kinder for one of us to deliver it.’

He looked a bit bashful. ‘Telegrams are horrid things to get in these troubled times, so I took the liberty of opening it. I do apologise, but it’s good news, Mrs Finch, I assure you.’

Cordelia put on her glasses and looked at the brown envelope which had been addressed to her old home in Havelock Road. With trembling fingers, she pulled out the telegram.

‘WIFE AND DAUGHTERS LEAVING SINGAPORE MONARCH OF THE GLEN * ETA CLIFFEHAVEN MARCH * KEEP SAFE FOR DURATION * URGENT REPLY SINGAPORE CLUB * JOCK FULLER * END.’

‘Oh, my goodness,’ she breathed, her eyes brightening with excitement. ‘How wonderful that they’ve escaped! And to think I didn’t even know if they existed. Two daughters, how lovely. Oh goodness me, I’m feeling rather tearful. How silly.’ And then reality set in. ‘But what about Jock? Surely he isn’t staying in Singapore?’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Finch, but it certainly looks as if he means to, for he’s asked you to reply care of the Singapore Club.’

‘Oh dear,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘I do hope he doesn’t get caught up in the fighting – but at least he was able to get his family out of harm’s way.’ Then a thought struck her. ‘But where on earth can they stay?’ she fretted.

‘Well, here, of course,’ said Peggy.

‘But you have enough to do without three more people to feed,’ protested Cordelia. ‘I simply can’t expect you to have them here.’

‘My dearest Cordelia, they are your family – and as such they are mine too. They will stay here for as long as they need. The girls can have the big double bedroom at the front, and the mother can go in the single next to them.’

Cordelia burst into tears. ‘Oh, Peggy, you’re so very kind. What on earth would I do without you?’

‘Hello, what’s going on?’

Anthony shot to his feet as Suzy walked into the room, all rosy and sparkling-eyed from her walk in the cold, and despite her emotional outburst, Cordelia couldn’t help but notice the awestruck look on his face as the girl took off her headscarf and unbuttoned her coat.

She blew her nose and tried to regain control of her emotions. ‘Anthony has found my family,’ she managed through the lump in her throat, ‘and they’ve escaped Singapore and will be here next month. Isn’t that wonderful?’

Suzy gave her a hug. ‘It certainly is, Grandma Finch,’ she said softly. ‘I’m so happy for you.’ She turned to Anthony, who still looked rather stunned. ‘What a wonderful thing you’ve done for our darling Grandma Finch,’ she said, blushing prettily at the intensity of his adoring gaze. ‘How can we ever thank you enough?’

He cleared his throat and fiddled with his glasses. ‘I didn’t do anything, not really,’ he managed.

‘I rather think you did,’ she murmured, ‘and it was most awfully kind of you.’

Cordelia watched in fascination as the two young
people regarded one another. She could almost feel the magic that was happening between them, and knew that she was witnessing love at first sight.
Oh, what a happy, happy day
, she thought as the tears flowed down her face again.

Peggy had noticed it too, and she dabbed at her own eyes before handing Cordelia a clean handkerchief. Suzy looked particularly pretty today, with her freshly washed and set hair, and her glowing eyes. There was a luminosity in her face that she suspected had very little to do with the long, cold walk home, and she was reminded of her daughter’s wedding day, when Anne’s face had glowed as she’d walked up the aisle towards Martin.

She turned away and couldn’t help a wry smile as she poured everyone another cup of tea. She’d always been on the lookout for a nice girl for Anthony, but she’d never even considered Suzy – and yet now it seemed obvious they were a perfect match. Suzy was a well-brought-up girl from a good family who’d seen to it that she’d had the best private education they could afford. Nature had blessed her not only with a sharp mind, but with golden hair, creamy skin and big blue eyes – and the longest, shapeliest legs Peggy had ever seen.

But for all her beauty and grace and her devotion to her nursing, Suzy could be as quietly stubborn and strong-willed as a mule – and when she felt passionate about something she stuck to her guns and fought for it with a restrained but implacable determination.
Doris had once declared that she thought Suzy was a bit soft and too easily led by the more flamboyant Fran, and that nursing was probably all she was good for. It would be interesting to see how she’d react if anything came of this instant attraction. One thing Peggy knew for sure: if Anthony was the man for Suzy, then Doris would soon discover that this seemingly quiet, reserved young woman was a formidable opponent.

She handed round the teacups and halved two of the iced buns. ‘We must celebrate Cordelia’s news properly,’ she declared, ‘and then once we’ve finished our tea, I’ll go down to the post office before it shuts and send that telegram to Jock.’

‘I’ll go,’ said Anthony. ‘You have a lot to do here, and it’s only a short detour on my way home.’ He refused to take any money from Cordelia to pay for the telegram, and then turned hesitantly to Suzy. ‘Could you bear to stand the cold again and come with me?’ he asked softly. ‘Then once we’ve sent it, perhaps we could go for a drink and a bite of supper?’

‘That would be lovely,’ she replied, ‘but I can’t be out too late. I’m on duty again at six tomorrow morning.’

‘That’s settled then,’ said Peggy briskly. ‘But I’d advise you not to go to the Anchor. The beer’s terrible and the new manager gives short measures.’

Anthony and Suzy eyed her with amazement at this outburst.

‘Just take my advice,’ she said rather more moderately. ‘The Ship is a much nicer pub and it’s only just down from the post office.’