Sealed With a Loving Kiss (3 page)

She had to admit that she was quietly revelling in her independence after a lifetime of being carefully guarded against the world beyond the rectory walls – and although Gideon and Emmaline would definitely have disapproved of her playing the piano in a public house, she saw no harm in it, and thoroughly enjoyed entertaining the servicemen and women who could forget their responsibilities for a few hours and sing their hearts out.

She tensed at the thought of having to face that horrid Tommy Findlay this evening. He'd tried to pick her up as she'd been walking from the factory in the gloom of a wintry afternoon, and the episode had given her quite a scare – to the point where she'd actually hidden from him down an alleyway when she'd seen him again last night talking to that woman, Eileen. But Peggy had assured her he'd been warned by Ron and Rosie to be on his best behaviour and never to approach her again, so she had to believe she was safe from any further incidents.

She squared her shoulders, opened the door and headed to the bathroom. She was eighteen, earning her own living and, come next September, would be starting her teacher training course. It was time she toughened up and became more like her new friend Ivy, who was more than capable of dealing with unwelcome advances and the rigours of life. Ivy might have come from Hackney and been exposed to such things from very early on, but there were lessons to be learned from her, and Mary knew instinctively that it would be wise to follow her example if she was to survive this new and rather exciting life.

Mary finished preparing for the day and carried her overnight bag down the stairs. Leaving it in the hall with her overcoat and gas-mask box, she went into the kitchen to discover that she was the last one down.

Suzy and Fran were in their nurses' uniforms and preparing to leave for Cliffehaven General as Sarah reached for her heavy overcoat to wear over the green sweater and khaki jodhpurs of the Women's Timber Corps. Ron was surreptitiously feeding Harvey bits of toast, while Rita drank the last of her tea and dragged on the Fire Service issue coat over her black uniform jacket and trousers.

Mary smiled at sweet little Daisy, who was gurgling with laughter and clapping her hands as Harvey snaffled bits of her breakfast from her high-chair tray, whilst Peggy tried to stop him from doing it at the same time as coaxing Daisy to eat her eggy soldiers. Cordelia was taking no notice of anyone as she read the newspaper, and Mary wondered if she'd switched off her hearing aid – which Peggy had told her was a common occurrence.

‘Help yourself to porridge, dear,' said Peggy, who looked a bit tired this morning. ‘There's tea in the pot and plenty of bread for toast.'

‘We'll all see you tonight then,' said Fran as the girls headed for the concrete steps that led down to the basement and back door. ‘To be sure, there's nothing I like more than a good sing-song. It reminds me of the bars at home, where there was always good craic, and I do wish I hadn't left me fiddle behind in Ireland.'

‘You can play the fiddle?' asked Peggy as everyone stared at Fran in astonishment.

‘Ach, we all play one instrument or another where I come from,' she replied dismissively. ‘Me da was a terrific fiddle player, and me mam wasn't at all bad on the penny whistle. They used to take me and me brothers and sisters to the local bar every Saturday night, and there was always a farthing or two for us if we performed well.' She gave them all a cheerful wave and hurried off down the steps to be swiftly followed by the others.

‘Did you know about that?' Peggy asked Ron.

‘Aye, she did mention it a long while ago, but I'd forgotten about it until now. But to be sure, she's right about everyone learning to play something, even if it's only the spoons.' He puffed out his chest. ‘I used to be a dab hand at them in my younger days,' he added proudly.

‘I'd have thought you'd have preferred blowing your own trumpet,' said Peggy with a teasing light in her eyes. ‘To be sure, you have a great talent for it.'

‘Ach, Peggy girl, it's too early in the morning for that sort of talk. I'll take meself and Harvey off for our walk, and hope you'll be kinder to an old injured soldier by the time we get back.' He stomped off down the steps with Harvey at his heels.

‘Don't take any notice of Ron,' said Peggy as she finished feeding Daisy and cleaned her face with her bib. ‘He has a good sense of humour and I think he rather enjoys all the ribbing he gets. As for the wounded soldier malarkey, he uses that as an excuse to avoid any jobs I might have for him to do about the house.'

Mary smiled and ate her delicious porridge. She liked Ron, even though he had rather alarming eyebrows and looked as if he slept in clothes that had never been washed, and it was lovely to sit in this homely kitchen, and to share in the warmth and affection of the people who lived here.

‘It's a shame Fran can't get her hands on a violin,' she said as she put a thin smear of the horrid fishy margarine across the wheatmeal toast. ‘Does anyone else in the house play an instrument? Only it would make for a very special evening at the Anchor if we could persuade people to come and join in.'

‘That's a marvellous idea,' said Peggy. ‘I can't think why Rosie hasn't thought of it before. She's usually very sharp when it comes to getting more customers in.' Her bright smile faded. ‘But I doubt Rita or the others have such a talent – they didn't mention it when Fran told us about her fiddle.'

She put Daisy on the floor so she could crawl about and pull herself up on the furniture. ‘Mind you, there's no guarantee that Fran can play the fiddle with any expertise, and even if we found one for her, it could end up sounding like tomcats having a set-to.'

Mary laughed. ‘You may well be right. But, you never know, she might surprise us.'

Peggy sat down and poured herself a cup of tea. Then she suddenly snapped her fingers. ‘I've just remembered where there is one,' she said excitedly. ‘Doris went through a phase of hoping that Anthony might prove to be musical, and she bought a violin, a recorder and then the piano – all to no avail, of course. Anthony is tone deaf and couldn't string a tune together if his life depended on it.'

She puffed furiously on her cigarette as the idea took hold. ‘My sister's a hoarder, never throws anything out. I bet she's stuffed it away somewhere to gather dust along with all her other brief flights of fancy.'

Mary finished the toast and returned Peggy's bright smile. ‘I'll ask her about it tonight. If she's in. I've never known a woman to be so busy with committee meetings.'

‘Bless you, dear, they aren't all such things. She goes to see her husband in his flat above the Home and Colonial Store he manages. She and Ted have been separated for a few months after he had an affair with “the floozy”, but she's agreed to forgive him enough to go round there occasionally for a game of whist and a glass of sherry.'

Peggy tapped ash into a saucer. ‘I think that now Anthony has virtually moved out again, she's getting a bit lonely. My betting is that it won't be long before she lets Ted return home to Havelock Road. After all, she has to keep up appearances, what with the wedding getting so near, and Suzy's parents being so well connected.'

Mary raised an eyebrow at this as she sipped the last of her tea.

‘Oh yes,' said Peggy as she settled back in her chair for a good gossip. ‘Suzy's grandfather went to prep school with Winston Churchill, you know, and Churchill was a frequent visitor to their home before the war. Her father is something very important in the Foreign Office and her mother is a society hostess and very well connected.'

She shot Mary a rather naughty grin. ‘Doris has a great deal to live up to, and is busting a gut to put on a grand show at this wedding.'

‘Oh dear, it doesn't bode well for any of them, does it?' said Mary.

Peggy shook her head. ‘If Ted has any sense at all he'll keep well out of it until all the fuss is over. She's been a complete nightmare to poor Suzy and Anthony, taking over the arrangements, inviting people they don't want – making all sorts of plans that are really none of her business.' She stubbed out her cigarette and went to rescue Daisy, who was chewing on a lump of anthracite she'd plucked from the coal scuttle.

‘Did Suzy tell you she and Anthony asked me last night if I'd play the church organ for their ceremony? I agreed, of course, but I'll have to go and ask the vicar's permission to practise. Our church organ back in Sussex was out of action for over two years, so I'm a bit rusty.'

‘That would be wonderful,' sighed Peggy. ‘The organist is a lovely old dear, but she gets flustered too easily and keeps forgetting to put on her reading glasses so she can see the music. She fumbles about, pulls out all the wrong stops and has difficulty reaching those pedal things with her feet, because she's so short. It can be terribly hard to follow anything she's trying to play.'

‘In that case I'll have to go and see her as well as the vicar,' said Mary as she glanced at the clock. ‘I wouldn't like to upset her.' She got up from the table. ‘I'm sorry, Peggy, but I'd better get a move on, or I'll be late for my shift.'

She quickly washed her crockery and left it on the wooden drainer as Peggy cleaned Daisy's face again, removed the coal scuttle out of her reach and put her back on the floor. Cordelia was still occupied with the newspaper and seemed oblivious to anything going on around her.

‘How are the rehearsals going for Doris's charity concert on New Year's Day?' asked Peggy.

‘Slowly but surely,' replied Mary. ‘It's all a bit haphazard because the orchestra is made up of civilians as well as servicemen, and not everyone can get the time off. But it's coming along nicely considering we can only rehearse once a week, and it feels marvellous to be playing with a proper orchestra.'

Peggy beamed. ‘You're very brave,' she said. ‘I wouldn't have the nerve to do anything like that.'

Mary smiled back. ‘It's far less stressful to be a part of an orchestra than sitting behind the piano on my own, believe me.' She glanced at the clock again. ‘I'm sorry, Peggy, but I really
do
have to go.'

Fetching her coat, gas mask and overnight bag from the hall, Mary returned to the kitchen and gave Peggy a big hug. ‘Thank you for everything,' she said. ‘I do appreciate how difficult you must have found it to tell me such things last night, and I'm very grateful.'

Peggy pushed her dark curls away from her face. ‘I'm glad you feel like that, Mary. It can't have been easy for you either. But as long as you're able to put it all behind you and get on with your new life here in Cliffehaven, then I'm happy.'

‘I'll see you tonight then. Seven o'clock outside the Anchor.'

‘We'll be there, dear, don't you fret. Now run along and have a good day.'

Mary waved goodbye to Cordelia, who'd finally looked up from her newspaper, and then ran down the steps and out into the garden.

It was a bright, brisk morning, with the sun shining from a clear sky, and the wind holding the saltiness of the sea. White gulls swooped and hovered above the rooftops, their wings gilded by the sunlight as their mournful, raucous cries heralded a new day.

Mary took a deep breath and began to walk down the twitten towards the street that led up the hill, and eventually to the factory estate. She was freed from her search into the past and although she still deeply mourned her father Gideon's passing, she could now forget about Cyril Fielding and the feckless girl who'd given birth to her, and look forward to this new life in Cliffehaven.

ROSIE BRAITHWAITE PUSHED
back her platinum hair and heaved a sigh of exasperation. She'd just collected up the dirty glasses, scattered newspapers and a full ashtray from her sitting room and carried it all into the tiny kitchen. On seeing the mess there, she immediately stormed into her brother's bedroom without knocking.

‘I will
not
have you turning my home into a pigsty,' she snapped.

Tommy was lounging in bed having a cigarette and quickly pulled up the bedclothes over his bare chest. ‘I'd appreciate it if you'd knock before you came crashing in here,' he protested.

‘And I'd appreciate it if you showed some respect for me and my home,' she retorted, her horrified gaze taking in the clothes flung on the floor, the dirty cups and plates, discarded magazines and overflowing ashtray.

‘Aw, come on, Sis,' he drawled, flashing her one of his most charming smiles as he ran his fingers through his brutally short hair. ‘I've been out with the ARP all night, and what with having to report to the police station every day and do a shift with the Civil Defence Service, I can't be expected to turn my hand to housework as well.'

Rosie could no longer be moved by that smile, for she'd long since learned it was utterly false. She folded her arms and looked at him with little affection. Her younger brother had been the bane of her life ever since he'd discovered he had a talent for charming people out of their money. Now, because of her stupid sense of family loyalty, she was stuck with him until his term of probation was over. It was going to be a long six months.

‘Get up and put on some clothes,' she said crossly. ‘Then clean this mess and sort out my kitchen – you've got time before you have to report in to the police.'

The charming smile faded and the indolence disappeared as he sat up. ‘I don't appreciate being ordered about as if I was a kid,' he retorted. ‘I had enough of that in prison.'

‘Then start behaving like a grown-up. For goodness' sake, Tommy, you're forty-five, and your bad behaviour has led you to my door, yet again. Pull yourself together and at least
try
to make an effort.'

‘It's not easy,' he replied, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. ‘People have long memories, so how am I supposed to be able to start again with a clean sheet?'