Sealed With a Loving Kiss (19 page)

She was just warming the pot when she heard the back door slam, and she looked towards the cellar steps expecting to see Rosie and Monty. Her smile widened in welcome as she saw it was a bright-eyed, radiant Mary with a very pleasant-looking young commando in tow.

‘Goodness me,' she said in delight. ‘You must be Jack. What a lovely surprise for Mary – and congratulations on passing the course.'

He grinned back at her as he whipped off his beret, and his rough, strong fingers enveloped her hand. ‘Thank you, Mrs Reilly,' he said, his voice soft with a Sussex burr. ‘I hope you don't mind us turning up like this.'

‘Well, of course I don't – as long as you stop being so formal, and call me Peggy. Come in, come in. Now I'll introduce you to everyone and then get you some food. I expect you're both hungry, aren't you?'

‘I'm all right,' said Mary, ‘but Jack's been hanging about waiting for me since he got off the train, so I suspect he's ravenous by now.'

‘But didn't Doris give you anything while you waited?'

Jack's grin broadened. ‘Only earache,' he said.

Peggy looked to Mary for an explanation, and once she'd heard it, she hid her fury with a tight smile. ‘Well, you're in my home now, and we don't stand on ceremony here. Come on into the other room so you can meet everyone, then I suspect you'd like some time alone while you eat your supper.'

She saw the wistful look that shot between them and knew she'd been right. Leading the way into the chaos of the dining room, she had to shout over the sound of ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo' to be heard as everyone turned to wave at them and she pointed out who was who to Jack.

Cordelia was leaning on her walking stick and wriggling her bottom in time to the music, the two American boys were jitter-bugging with Sarah and Cissy, Matt and Rita were in a world of their own as they slow-danced, while Martin and Ron danced their own version of the American craze with Jane and Fran. Daisy was sitting in her high chair banging out her own rhythm with a spoon, while Harvey stretched out beneath the table and snored.

Peggy looked up at Jack's stunned expression and laughed. ‘As I said, we don't stand on ceremony here.' She led the way back to the relatively quiet kitchen. ‘Sit down and I'll get some food for you both. There's plenty left.'

She made the pot of tea, dished up a full plate of meat, potatoes, stuffing and vegetables for Jack, and a smaller plate for Mary despite her protesting that she was still full from lunch. Love gave the young good appetites, and Jack looked like a lad who enjoyed his food.

‘Where are you staying, Jack?' she asked as she opened a bottle of beer for him.

‘I'm at the YMCA. It's comfortable enough, and after living in barracks, it's a definite improvement.'

Peggy would have offered him a bed here, but she'd made a strict rule long ago that she wouldn't have young men staying overnight. It got the girls unsettled and could lead to all sorts of shenanigans. Not that Jack looked the sort to try his luck, for he was obviously very taken with Mary – but he was a young, fit lad who'd been living in a barracks full of men for weeks on end without sight or scent of female company. It would be foolish to put temptation in his way.

‘They'll look after you there,' she said comfortably. ‘Now you eat up and have some time together. You know where we are, should you want to join in later.' She gave them both a beaming smile, picked up her two cups of tea, and left them to it.

Returning to the dining room, she had barely placed the cups on the table when she was whisked into Martin's arms and twirled round until she was quite giddy. Martin had certainly not lost any of his energetic exuberance, that was for sure, and it was a while before her pleas for a rest were heard.

She finally managed to escape and sat down with a bump to catch her breath. It was wonderful to have the house ringing with noise and laughter again, but oh, how she missed Jim. His absence was felt even more strongly on days like this, and she wondered wistfully where he was and what he was doing. And then there was Anne and her two little ones, and Bob and Charlie, who were no doubt having a whale of a time at the Americans' party in the village hall.

It was unfair to be separated at such a time, and she realised suddenly this must be how millions of others were feeling right this minute, for as the King had said in his speech, war had divided families and torn loved ones apart, and of course there was always the fear that once it was over, things might not be the same ever again.

Determined to banish such dark thoughts on this special evening, she sipped her tea, lit a cigarette and sat back to watch the fun.

Captain Hammond was a terrific dancer, she noted, and young Randy wasn't bad either. Rita and Matt were still unaware of the music or their surroundings as they shuffled round in a tight circle and gazed into one another's eyes, and poor Jane was having terrible difficulty trying to follow Ron's own version of the quickstep which didn't at all go with the music. Sarah had gone to sit by Cordelia to have a cigarette, while Martin topped up everyone's glasses.

Peggy glanced across at the clock on the mantelpiece and realised with shock that it was way past Daisy's bed-time. She weaved through the dancers to the high chair and lifted her out.

Daisy was in no mood to leave the party, and she kicked her feet and began to bawl in protest as she waved her arms about. This brought Harvey from beneath the table to see what the matter was, and he only just missed being trampled by the dancers. He decided he didn't like what was happening and shot back into his refuge beneath the table to chew on the mangled ham bone he'd got for Christmas.

Peggy fetched Daisy's night bottle from her bedroom and carried the yelling, struggling baby upstairs to wash and change her into her nightclothes. She would normally have done this in the kitchen, but she didn't want to disturb the lovebirds, and as Doris had treated them so appallingly, she wanted them to feel right at home.

Once Daisy was prepared for bed, she warmed the quarter-bottle of milk formula in the bathroom sink with some hot water then went back downstairs to her bedroom. The noise from the dining room was making the old walls vibrate, but as Daisy usually slept through air raids, Peggy wasn't concerned that it might disturb her.

She held her in her arms as she gave her the bottle and watched as her eyelids fluttered and she finally fell asleep. Kissing the top of her downy head, she gently placed her in the cot and drew the blankets over her. It was the end of Daisy's first Christmas, and although she would probably never remember it, Peggy was certain that she'd thoroughly enjoyed it.

As she left her bedroom there was a knock on the front door, and she opened it to find Rosie and Monty on the doorstep. One look at Rosie's face told her that her friend was trying very hard not to show how upset she was. ‘What's happened, Rosie?' she asked as they hugged.

‘Nothing that I couldn't put right,' she replied briskly, unclipping Monty's leash. He hared off to find Harvey, and she stepped inside and handed Peggy the shopping bag. ‘Happy Christmas, Peg. I'm sure you'll enjoy these for a change from your usual brand.'

Peggy looked in astonishment at the several dozen packets of Craven A. They were a posh, expensive brand and hadn't been seen in the shops for ages. ‘Good grief, Rosie. Where did this lot come from?'

‘Let's just say Father Christmas delivered them and leave it at that.' She took off her coat and hung it over the banisters, then patted her hair and plastered on a smile. ‘It sounds as if they're having fun. How many waifs and strays have you taken in tonight?'

‘There are two in the kitchen and a couple of American boys in the dining room, as well as Cissy, her young man and Martin.'

Peggy regarded Rosie thoughtfully, noting the broken fingernail and chipped varnish and the smudge of mascara beneath one eye. Rosie always looked immaculate, but tonight she was clearly not quite herself. ‘Do you need to talk about whatever's bothering you, Rosie?'

She shook her head. ‘I need a large gin, if you've got one going – and I could do with a bit of a dance as well. Being stuck in the house with a moody Tommy for most of the day hasn't been the best of fun.'

‘I don't know what he's got to be moody about,' retorted Peggy. ‘He's got a roof over his head, thanks to you. And is probably living high on the hog with you running about after him and cooking him meals.'

‘Well, something's got him on edge, and that's a fact,' Rosie replied. ‘But whatever it is, he's keeping it to himself – as usual.'

Peggy wished there was somewhere in the house that wasn't occupied so they could have a proper talk. It was a bad sign for Tommy to be moody, and the only reason for it as far as she could see was his anxiety over Mary's search for Cyril Fielding. ‘Tommy isn't up to his old tricks again, is he?' she asked, holding up the shopping bag.

Rosie gave a deep sigh. ‘He'll never change, Peg, and I was stupid to even hope that he might.' She took Peggy's hand. ‘Don't tell Ron, or it will just make everything ten times worse.'

Peggy was wise enough to realise this, for Ron was fiercely protective of his Rosie and if he caught even a whiff of trouble from the hated Tommy there would be serious trouble. ‘I'd better hide all this away in my bedroom,' she murmured.

Rosie opened the catch on her large handbag and drew out several packets of pipe tobacco. ‘You'd better put these in with them. Ron will get suspicious if I give him too many at once. Perhaps you could eke them out?'

Peggy didn't like the subterfuge, or the fact that she was being asked to hide what could only be stolen or black-market contraband. But Rosie was her friend, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd had illicit goods hidden about the house – Jim and his father had often come home from their fishing trips to France with things they shouldn't have.

‘I'll see to them, don't you worry.'

‘Thanks, Peg,' she said with a sigh of relief. ‘I hate to get you involved, but if they're found in the pub I could not only lose my licence, but get thrown into gaol.'

Peggy opened her bedroom door and Rosie followed her in to head straight for the cot, where Daisy was spreadeagled and fast asleep in the flickering glow of the night-light. ‘She's so lovely,' she murmured wistfully. ‘You are lucky, Peg.'

‘She's a good baby most of the time,' Peggy replied as she stood on the dressing-table stool and pulled down her overnight case from the top of the wardrobe. ‘But when she's teething, or in one of her bad moods, her yelling can go right through your head and nothing will soothe her.'

She stuffed the overloaded shopping bag into the small case, snapped the clasps shut and shoved it back out of sight. ‘There, that should do it.'

Rosie tenderly drew the blanket over Daisy's sprawled body, and ran a finger through the dark curls. ‘It's at times like this that I … That are the hardest,' she managed, her voice unsteady. ‘Just her baby smell is enough to bring it all back.'

Peggy thought her heart would break and she drew Rosie into her embrace and held her until she was more composed. ‘I know, and I do understand,' she soothed as they sat on the end of the bed.

Rosie dried her tears with a handkerchief. ‘I know you do – and I should have learned to put it all behind me after so long – but now and again it sweeps over me like a great tidal wave and I simply don't have the strength to fight it.'

Knowing what she did, Peggy really didn't have an answer to this – and anything she said now could open up a real can of worms. As she listened to the joyous shouts from the dining room, she decided it would be best to try and lighten the mood.

‘Why don't you fix your make-up before we join the others? It sounds as if the party is really livening up in there.'

Rosie nodded, but she didn't move from the bed. ‘He's been seeing Eileen again,' she murmured, her gaze still on the sleeping baby.

Peggy experienced a jolt of alarm, even though this statement had come as no surprise. ‘Really?' she stuttered. ‘But I thought they couldn't stand the sight of each other?'

‘I saw them together just after he was released from prison, and again tonight. They're up to something, I just know it. Tommy's been too on edge lately, and I recognise the signs.'

Peggy squeezed her hand, took a deep breath and decided it was time to find out just how much Rosie knew about her brother. ‘Could it have anything to do with Cyril Fielding?' she asked as casually as she could.

Rosie frowned as she looked back at her. ‘Who the heck is Cyril Fielding?'

The relief was overwhelming. ‘Oh, no one of any importance,' she replied lightly. ‘He's another Tommy, really, and I heard a rumour that he was in the area again.'

‘Perhaps I should ask Tommy about him and find out just what he's up to.'

‘No, don't do that, Rosie,' she said hastily. ‘The less you know about Tommy's business, the better. You really don't want to get dragged into any trouble if the police start asking questions.'

Rosie took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. ‘You're right, as always, Peg. I just wish I hadn't agreed to him coming to stay.'

She reached into her handbag for her powder compact and lipstick and began to repair her make-up. ‘Let's forget about Tommy and enjoy what's left of the evening. I don't know about you, but I am in serious need of a gin and some cheering up.'

Peggy smiled back at her as they went out of the room, but she had a horrible feeling that she shouldn't have mentioned Cyril. Rosie was being pushed to the limit of her patience by her brother, and if they got into one of their usual heated arguments, it was quite possible that she would fire off questions about Fielding – and that could really stir things up.