Polly's Angel (31 page)

It was not until they were making their way back to the ferry in the early evening that the subject of Grace – and the morrow – cropped up again.

‘Grace is arriving tonight. She and her pal Fanny have had their posting,' Polly said as they strolled down the road towards the landing stage where the ferry would presently dock. ‘But first thing tomorrer we'll go off up to Beaconsfield Lane and see if we can find one of her pals. I know they probably won't be staying at the Strawb,' she added hastily, when Sunny looked doubtful. ‘But everyone will go along to see the staff and the kids. Grace will; she said so. And that way, we may discover whether she's any pals in the ‘Pool right now.'

‘Why can't I come?' Sunny said at once. ‘I've never been in the Strawb; I don't see why I can't come. And anyway, poor Grace won't want to spend the first day of her leave trailin' across half Liverpool! No, the three of us can find something to do tomorrer, and then we can all go up to the Strawb the following day.'

‘No, Sunny, stop trying to boss me around,' Polly said vehemently, stamping her foot and glaring at him. ‘You haven't changed a bit, have you? All those years ago when I was just a kid you told me what to do and got me into big trouble and listen to you now! No, don't shake your head, you're doing it again! I'm tellin' you Grace and me's goin' to the Strawb tomorrer and if you don't watch out you'll find yourself doing a whole lot more studying than you'd planned – and not in our front parlour either! Why, you're as bad as Ivan. He pestered to be taken with us today if you remember and we had to disappoint him. I can't have two people bothering me like that.'

‘I'm sorry, Polleen,' Sunny said humbly. ‘Honest to God I didn't mean to boss you about. It were only a suggestion and I take it back. If you and Grace are set on goin' to the Strawb tomorrer,
of course
you must go, only I haven't ever been there and I thought . . . I thought . . .'

He did his best to look thoroughly ashamed of himself and must have succeeded, for Polly's face softened as she squeezed his hand remorsefully. ‘It's me that should be sorry, shoutin' like a fishwife at you when you're only tryin' to see everyone enjoys their leave. Look, you come round to my house tomorrer about dinnertime. I'll have had a chance to talk to Grace and see how she feels – we might even have been up to the Strawb by then – and I'll be able to tell you how things stand.'

‘That'd be grand,' Sunny said, squeezing Polly's hand in his turn. ‘I wouldn't spoil your friend's leave for the world. I suppose Dempsey and me could amuse ourselves somehow – we could even take Ivan at a pinch, get him out of your hair – though I'll miss you something awful, Poll, and it'll be harder somehow knowin' you're so near.'

‘Let's not talk about it now,' Polly said, smiling up at him. ‘Just you come tomorrer like I said and no more shouting or bossing from either of us.'

Agreeing, Sunny felt downright amazed at himself. Here was he, the popular, much in demand Sunny Andersen, who always had a couple of girls yearning for him, suggesting he wanted to see the inside of a children's home just so that he would be constantly with Polly, and then pretending he would take her kid brother around with him just to keep in her good books. What on earth was the matter with him? She was a pretty girl all right, but why should he go to such lengths just for a pretty girl? There were dozens of 'em about, he reminded himself, and most of them were a good deal more willing to let a chap have a bit of a kiss and a cuddle than Polly was. Delightful though the day had been, she had kept him at arm's length from the very start, and no doubt intended to do so for what remained of the day too.

But they were approaching the Mersey, and Sunny remembered that there was a cafe down near the ferry's landing stage where they could get a cup of tea, or a bun, or both, whilst they waited for their craft to arrive.

He reminded Polly of Mrs Jessie O'Brien's Refreshment Rooms and suggested that they should wait there and get themselves some tea instead of hanging about by the water. Polly shook her head, laughing at him, her eyes teasing. ‘Sunny Andersen, we had tea – and a good one – just now, so we did. What can you be wantin' with another tea so soon?'

But Sunny, consulting his wristwatch, told her that their farmhouse tea had been two whole hours ago and added that he would murder a cuppa and Polly agreed that she, too, was thirsty.

‘So we'll go inside and watch for the ferry from there, and have us tea and cakes,' Sunny said in his most masterful manner. ‘And then, whiles you O'Bradys have your own meal, I'll be gettin' back to Dempsey's and studyin' for me exam. I know your mam said I could use your parlour, but I won't do it tonight, not wi' your pal comin' home and all the greetin' to be got over.'

Polly, following him meekly into the refreshment rooms and agreeing to tea and cakes, also agreed that Sunny had best go straight home when they crossed the river. ‘For welcome though you'd be, everyone's attention will be on our Grace,' she admitted. ‘But – but you'll come at around one o'clock tomorrer, won't you? You see, the three of us will be waitin' for you.'

‘Three?' Sunny began, then his brow cleared. ‘Oh, I forgot Ivan. Ah, there's a cream doughnut and an eclair. Which one would you like, queen?'

‘It may be only mock, but it's still delicious,' Polly said, her hand hovering over the plate of cakes. ‘Ooh, I do love doughnuts, but there's chocolate on eclairs. I think I'll just close me eyes and grab. This is a real treat. I don't get cakes like this often.'

This caused a good deal of hilarity, especially since Polly's small hand missed both eclair and doughnut and landed upon the only fairly plain cake on the plate, a Viennese whirl. Sunny tried to persuade her to eat both doughnut and eclair and they ended by cutting the two rich, squishy cakes into four more or less even pieces, and having half a doughnut and half an eclair each.

In fact, so merry was their tea and so happy were they that they missed their ferry and had to hang on for the next one, which meant that Polly fairly tore up to the tram stop and implored him not to waste time by coming all the way to Titchfield Street, but to go straight back to the Dempseys' place.

‘If you take me home, Mammy and Daddy will feel they ought to ask you to stay,' she pointed out as the two of them climbed aboard an already heavily laden tram. ‘But if you get off this tram and go straight to the Dempseys', then we'll meet up tomorrer, as we'd planned.'

It made sense, Sunny could see that, so he leaned over and gave Polly the only sort of kiss possible when you are both standing up on a crowded tram, and then jumped down, waving until the vehicle was out of sight, though he could see no answering movement from within.

And presently, back home in the Dempseys' crowded little house, he was glad he hadn't gone all the way back to Titchfield Street with Polly. You're makin' a complete fool of yourself, Sunny, he told himself severely as he sat himself down on the window sill in the boys' room and got out his books. Before you know it, she'll be talking about weddin' bells and gettin' engaged. And there's no sense in that, particularly in wartime.

But he knew, really, that there was little chance of Polly doing any such thing. She liked him, but it was a much cooler and more sensible liking than that usually shown him by girls he flirted with and took notice of. He was going to have to play his cards very carefully indeed to retain a place in Polly's affections without committing himself more than he wanted to do – and the thought of losing her still sent such a stab of dismay through him that he could scarcely believe the pain.

Still, all this wouldn't get his exam work learned. Sunny opened a large manual of seamanship and began to con the pages.

Grace woke and lay for a moment looking up at a low white ceiling just above her head, on which the sunlight played dappled shadows. She knew where she was, of course, having been looking forward to this leave for a week, but it was still rather nice to wake of one's own accord instead of being shouted out of sleep by reveille, and it was nice to feel the soft warmth of the bed around one, and to know— Good gracious, where was Polly?

The answer to that particular question came smiling into the room even as Grace began to sit up on her elbow. Polly, fully dressed, came through the doorway, a laden tray in her hands. ‘Tea, bread and butter an' a lightly boiled egg, Miss Airwoman,' Polly said. ‘Mammy thought we should spoil you today, just for once. My, you got in awful late! You must have been perishin' tired – you came up to bed and you were asleep before I'd finished gettin' me clothes off.' She settled the tray comfortably across Grace's knees and then plumped herself down on the foot of the bed, causing the tea to rock none too gently. ‘Hey up, drink it quick, Gracie, before I spill it all over Mammy's clean sheets! Oh, but it's good to have you back after so long!'

‘It's good to be back,' Grace said gratefully, sipping the tea. ‘Well, this is the life, Poll! I'm sorry I was so worn out last night but that journey! It should have taken about four hours and it actually took nearly ten. Well, the engine broke down twice, which didn't help, and then there was a goods train on the line . . . I can't remember all the excuses, but there were lots. I was so tired I nearly wept when a porter told us we'd missed the last tram, but a few of us – all services – clubbed together and took a taxi, or we'd have been later still. What time was it when I finally staggered up to your door?'

‘Midnight,' Polly said, satisfyingly round-eyed. Mammy kept trying to send me to bed, but Daddy said I'd a right to wait up for you, bless him. And of course I'd got holiday so I didn't need to get up early for work. Only you know how it is, the sun peeped through the window and I was awake, so I got dressed as quietly as I could and sneaked down to get you some breakfast. And here we both are. Do eat your egg before it goes cold and hard,' she added. ‘Daddy's got an allotment, though it's a long way off, but he's got six hens, so we get extra eggs sometimes.'

‘We do all right in the WAAF, though most of the eggs we get are dried,' Grace said, beheading the large brown egg and dipping a finger of bread and butter into the orange yolk. ‘Oh, this is so good, Poll! I do love a runny egg.'

‘So do I—' Polly was beginning, when there was a perfunctory knock on the door and Ivan appeared. He grinned at both girls and then said, all in a rush: ‘Hi, Grace! Will you be long? Only that feller of Polly's is downstairs, and Mammy's gone to work so Daddy's put him in the parlour until you come down.'

‘I told him dinnertime,' Polly said, her cheeks beginning to flush. ‘I told him Grace and me would have things to do this morning. My goodness, I—'

‘He says as how he thought you might like him to take me out today,' Ivan said, grinning from ear to ear. ‘I don't believe a word of it meself, but that's what he said.'

Polly sighed. ‘I forgot – we did say something like that,' she admitted. ‘But I didn't really think . . . Oh well. I'll come down in a minute, Ivan, and have a word with him.'

Grace put a hand to her mouth and went to jump out of bed, but Polly pushed her back again. ‘Sure an' there's no hurry,' she said breezily. ‘It's just me pal Sunny's home on leave an' all, Grace. I did tell him to come round at dinnertime so you and he could meet, so he's only jumped the gun by a couple of hours. The thing is, he's at a loose end so he thought we might like his company if we go along to the Strawb later. He's never seen a children's home, you see, so he was quite curious about it.'

To tell the truth, Grace was more than a little dismayed by this information. She had gathered from Deirdre's letters to her son and daughter-in-law that Sunny had been a bad influence on Polly, had caused her to sag off school and generally misbehave, and did not much enjoy the thought of being forced to spend time with someone she scarcely knew and of whom she could not approve. But on the other hand, she could not expect Polly to cast off her friend for someone who had been out of the country for several years. However, she had no intention of making her feelings known.

‘Why don't we go up to the Strawb right now, then, Poll? As soon as I get up, I mean,' she said, busily despatching the egg, the bread and butter, and several cups of tea. ‘Come to that, why not let me go up to the Strawb? I could take Ivan, if you like, leave you and – and Sunny a bit of time to yourselves.'

But this Polly would by no means allow. ‘Me and Sunny had all day yesterday,' she said, her eyes widening with dismay. ‘It's
you
I want to spend time with, Grace, not Sunny. Sunny's a good chap, so he is, but you're me oldest friend and it's you I've been missin'. Oh, I know he's me friend, but he's a
feller
. You can't talk to them the same as you can to your bezzie, and you're me bezzie, honest to God you are.'

Grace laughed. ‘You sound a real little scouser,' she said teasingly. ‘Look, you and I will go up to the Strawb this morning, because I do want to see if any of my pals are back on leave as well. And then there's others . . . they may be working in the city, I'd like to get in touch with them again for old time's sake. The staff always know where everyone is – the Army's a small world and you stick by your friends. I've got another six days before I'll have to do that awful journey again – not that it will be the same awful journey, come to think, me and Fanny Meeson will be heading south in a week, we've been posted – so whilst I'm looking up me old pals you can see Sunny. Isn't that fair enough? It means I shan't have to play gooseberry, but we'll both have plenty of time together. What d'you say?'