Poppy's War (30 page)

‘I missed the bloody train and I had to walk all the way to the brewery. I hitched up the horse intending to come straight here. I needed to make sure you’d got home okay, but the shrapnel was flying about and I had to wait for the all clear. Then, just as I was driving through Leytonstone, I saw that the Barkers’ street had caught a packet. I went to see if I could help and found them standing outside a pile of rubble that had been their house. Nothing left. Not a thing.’

Despite the gravity of the situation and her own heartache, Poppy could not quite smother a hysterical bubble of laughter. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘But you do look like a clown, Dennis.’

He did not seem to appreciate the joke. ‘I’m glad you think it’s funny because I bloody don’t. What were you playing at, running off like that? You might have been killed in the air raid.’

‘You should take a look at yourself in the mirror,’ Poppy murmured, turning away to search for clean teacups.

‘I walked halfway home looking for you last night. I took Napoleon out in the dark because of you.’

Suddenly it was no longer funny. She whirled round on him. ‘You had no right to behave as you did. You made a fool of yourself and of me. You embarrassed me in front of my friends.’

‘I suppose I’m not good enough for you. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s what it’s been all along, and it’s got
nothing
to do with you being too young or wanting to put your studies first. It’s all about you thinking that you belong to that toffee-nosed set we met last night. Well, let me put you straight on that score, ducks. You don’t fit in with them any more than I do. They’ll be nice as pie to your face but behind your back I bet they call you that snotty kid from the East End.’

‘I may be a kid to you, Dennis Chapman, but all the more shame on you for dressing me up like a tart. That’s what Mrs Tanner called me when she saw me in that red dress, and that’s what Jean was trying to tell me only she was too nice to put it in so many words. You’re a hypocrite and you only do things to suit yourself. I’m sorry if you wasted your time looking for me, but you needn’t bother another time. I don’t want to see you ever again. D’you understand, Dennis? Never again.’

Chapter Fifteen

THE BARKERS AND
Auntie Dottie moved in. Fred and Ida invaded the back bedroom and made it their own, giving Poppy no alternative but to offer her room to Auntie Dottie. It might only have been a tiny boxroom with a lumpy mattress and a window that did not fit properly so that the wind whistled about her head like a screaming banshee on stormy nights, but it had been her own private space. Deprived of that, the only place where Poppy could sleep was the saggy old settee in the lounge, but this meant that she had to wait until everyone else had gone to bed before making herself as comfortable as possible on a piece of furniture that had seen better days. She found springs sticking through the cushions in a different place almost every night. Mabel’s sheets were worn and thin in the centre and Mrs Tanner said they ought to be cut and turned sides to middle, but somehow nobody seemed to have the desire or the energy to take on such a boring task.

The bombed-out aunts sat about all day complaining about the loss of their possessions and their homeless state. Mabel bore it all with her
customary
good nature, but Poppy’s patience was stretched to the limit. She had to leave the room sometimes or she might have told them that they were lucky not to have suffered the same fate as her parents and grandparents. Uncle Fred still had his business, whatever that was, and shortage of cash did not seem to be their problem. In fact, the only time Ida and Dottie showed any spark of enthusiasm was when they collected the extra clothing coupons allocated to people who had lost everything in air raids. They went out on a spending spree, but Poppy noted grimly that they did not include Mabel or her mother in these forays into the West End, which included lunch at a swanky restaurant. They seemed blissfully unaware that their presence put a strain on everyone else in the house, and neither of them lifted a finger to help with the household chores.

Every morning Poppy folded up her bedding to make room for Ida, Dottie and Mrs Tanner. Each of them had their own special place where they sat all day, marking their territory with a magazine or an unfinished piece of knitting and woe betide anyone who unintentionally encroached on their space. Poppy made them tea and toast before slipping out of the house, leaving them huddled round a desultory fire like the three witches in
Macbeth
. She half expected them to start chanting ‘Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble’, but they were usually arguing about something trivial that had happened years ago
in
their youth, but for which they had borne a grudge until the present day.

Working on the wards was the only thing that kept Poppy sane. The hospital was filled to capacity. There were beds in the corridors and the walking wounded were treated in a marquee set up on the bomb site which had once been the casualty department. Staff shortages meant that probationer nurses worked even harder and were given more responsibility than they would have had in peacetime. Poppy was eager to learn but she found it almost impossible to study at home. The small house was hopelessly overcrowded and the air in the front room was invariably polluted by cigarette smoke and stale cooking smells. Mabel and Poppy were the only non-smokers in the house and sometimes it was difficult to see across the room through the manmade fog from Capstan Navy Cut and Passing Clouds cigarettes. Poppy thought that whoever gave the latter product that name had never had to sit in a small room with three women puffing out smoke like factory chimneys. The fug never seemed to dissipate completely even if the windows were left wide open after everyone had retired to bed.

Although Poppy had tried to end her relationship with Dennis he seemed to have a skin as thick as an elephant’s. He had kept away for several days after she had told him that she never wanted to see him again, but he turned up at the end of the week as if nothing had happened, bearing gifts for all. He
brought
flowers for Mabel, cigarettes for the smokers, a Havana cigar for Uncle Fred and a box of chocolates for Poppy, which she could hardly refuse without causing a scene. He complimented the two aunts on their new clothes and volunteered his services should they require any of the little luxuries in life. He had, he said, made friends with some of the American soldiers who were based at a camp not too far away, he could not say where of course for security reasons. But the Yanks were good fellows and they had chocolate, chewing gum and nylons. The ladies had only to ask.

Mrs Tanner called him a rascal and Auntie Ida said she did not believe in the black market, but Uncle Fred asked her where she thought the chops came from that they had eaten for supper. ‘You’ve just had your whole month’s meat ration in one meal, you silly cow,’ he said, puffing on his cigar and winking at Dennis. ‘Thanks, old chap. A fine Havana is what I miss the most.’

‘Rolled on a luscious Cuban lady’s thigh,’ Dennis said, grinning.

Auntie Dottie stubbed her cigarette end out in her saucer. ‘Shame on you, talking that way in front of ladies.’

‘He’s a bad ’un.’ Mrs Tanner chuckled, jerking her head in his direction. ‘You’re a cheeky devil, Dennis. That’s what you are.’

Dennis had been standing on the hearth rug with his back to the empty grate, but he knelt at Mrs
Tanner’s
feet in a theatrical gesture. ‘You love it, Maggie, me old china.’

She slapped him on the shoulder, smiling coyly. ‘You are a one. Get up, you fool. Save your soft words for young Poppy.’

Poppy had been keeping out of the way as much as was possible in a room filled with bodies. She had perched on an upright chair by the door in readiness to escape to the kitchen should anyone ask for more tea, but now everyone was looking at her and Dennis had risen to his feet. He came towards her, holding out his hand. ‘Perhaps Poppy would like to come for a walk. It’s a fine evening and the nights are drawing out. How about it, girl?’

She was going to refuse but anything was better than sitting listening to Mrs Tanner and her sisters complaining about shortages and harking back to the good old days. ‘I’ll get my cardigan.’

She met him outside the front door. Spring was well and truly in the air. The birds seemed oblivious to the fact that there was a war on. They trilled their songs, made their nests and went about their short lives as they had done since the beginning of time. The scent of wallflowers filled the cool air together with the fruity smell of freshly turned soil where householders had dug up their front lawns in order to plant vegetables. Poppy hooked her cardigan around her shoulders as she followed Dennis down the path. He opened the gate and held it for her. She struggled to think of something to say. ‘You’re quite
a
hit with the aunts and Mrs Tanner,’ she said with an attempt at levity.

‘It’s my personal charm. It works on almost all females, present company excepted.’

She fell into step beside him. ‘I’m happy to be friends, Dennis. I just want to keep it that way.’

‘I was out of order the other night, but it’s only because I care about you, kid.’

‘It’s forgotten.’

‘And forgiven?’ He stopped, holding out his hand with a twisted smile that was impossible to resist. Poppy conceded with a nod.

‘Yes, of course.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘We’re too late for the flicks. How about a quick one at the pub? Do you good to get away from the family for a while.’

‘They’re not my family. I’m the odd one out, and I can’t stand sleeping on that settee for much longer.’

‘Poor little Poppy,’ Dennis took her by the hand. ‘A glass of lemonade and a packet of crisps will cheer you up no end.’

Dennis edged through the bar crowded with men in uniform and civilians enjoying a brief respite from their daily routine. Poppy had to admire the way he conquered his disability and managed somehow to carry two glasses filled to the brim, one with beer and the other with lemonade, without spilling any. He put them on the table and sat down, taking a packet of Smith’s crisps from his jacket pocket. He
took
a swig of beer and swallowed. ‘Look, Poppy. Going back to what you were saying about sleeping on the settee and it being crowded in Muriel’s house.’

She sipped her lemonade. It was warm and sweet, tasting more like sherbet than lemons. ‘What of it?’

‘I’ve got a house all to meself, girl. I rattle round in there like a pea on a drum. You could have a room of your own if you move in with me.’

Shocked at the thought, she shook her head. ‘Oh, I don’t think so, Dennis. It’s very kind of you, but …’

‘No strings, love. I’d be a perfect gent, and you wouldn’t be too far from the hospital.’

‘Mabel would have a fit, and Joe wouldn’t like it either. You must see that.’

‘All right then. I thought you might say that, and I’ve got another suggestion.’

‘What’s that, Dennis?’

‘That we get hitched. You’re old enough as long as you get permission from your next of kin, and that’s Joe. I don’t think he’d have any objection.’

Poppy almost choked on a mouthful of lemonade. ‘What?’

‘I’m asking you to marry me, girl. I can’t live without you, Poppy. It’s as simple as that.’

Stunned into silence, she met his earnest gaze with a sense of shock. She had thought at first that he was joking. She could tell by his expression that he was not.

‘I’d go down on one knee,’ he said with an attempt
at
a smile, ‘but I wouldn’t be able to get up again. Say something, Poppy.’

‘Oh, Dennis, I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.’

‘Why not? I’d be good to you, kid. I’d look after you and give you a decent home.’

‘You make me sound like an abandoned pet.’

‘I’m serious, Poppy. I’ve never been more serious in me whole life.’ He reached across the table to lay his hand on hers. ‘Think about it, love. You don’t have to give me an answer straight away. Get used to the idea.’

‘I don’t have to think, Dennis. I know it’s not right for me.’

‘We get on well, don’t we?’

‘Yes, we do.’

‘And I love you enough for both of us. You’d grow to love me too. We’d be a happy couple just like your mum and dad. My old man ran off with a waitress when I was two, and Mum had a string of boyfriends afterwards but none of them stayed for long. I always envied Joe having a proper family.’

There was no doubting his sincerity and for a brief moment she was tempted. It would be wonderful to be the centre of someone’s existence, and sheer bliss to have a home of her own, but the shadow cast over her past by Mrs Tanner’s spiteful revelations came rushing back to her. She curled her fingers around his hand. ‘I’m going to tell you something very private, Dennis. Something I didn’t know until
recently
, and I want you to promise not to tell anyone, and especially not Joe.’

‘Swear to God.’ Dennis crossed his heart and took another swig of his beer. ‘Go on.’

‘Mrs Tanner was in service with Mum years ago. She told me that my mum had an affair with someone while Dad was away in the army, and that man was my real father. Everything I thought I knew about my family was a lie.’

He withdrew his hand, his brows drawn together in a frown. ‘It doesn’t matter to me, love. I know who you are, and I wouldn’t want to change anything about you.’

‘It’s not as easy as that. I can’t explain it exactly, but I can’t marry you or anyone until I find out who I am.’ Unable to bear the hurt look in his eyes, Poppy jumped up from the table. ‘I’m sorry, Dennis. Anyway, I’d best be going home or Mabel will worry. Don’t come with me.’ She pushed through the crowds, ignoring the wolf whistles and offers of drinks from the men in the bar. Outside the air was cool and fresh. She wrapped her cardigan more tightly around her shoulders and broke into a run. Dennis would not be able to catch up with her even if he tried. She glanced over her shoulder as she turned the corner but the street was empty. She walked on at a brisk pace, arriving home just as it started to rain.