Sweet Memories of You (Beach View Boarding House) (3 page)

‘She ain’t sharing with me,’ Ivy said quickly.

Doris and Caroline turned and looked at her with the same wide-eyed amazement. ‘Well, of course she isn’t,’ said Doris. ‘I wouldn’t
dream
of asking her to do such a thing.’

As they went into the large drawing room which had magnificent views of the coastline, Ivy turned on her heel, grabbed her coat and gas-mask box from the lean-to and slammed the back door behind her. They could stick their coffee right up their posh jumpers.

The bright sunlight on the sea and the sight of the lovely white cliffs usually lifted her spirits, but there were tears of fury in her eyes as she walked along the promenade. Doris was a cow and that Caroline had all the makings of someone who thought she was better than most, and would no doubt be as snotty and horrible as Doris.

She blinked away the tears, irritated that she’d let the pair of them get to her. If only Mary was still here – at least then she wouldn’t feel quite so isolated. But there was no point in wishing for the impossible; Mary was back home in Sussex, and although she’d written regularly, Ivy suspected she wouldn’t see her again.

She plumped herself down on the bullet-scarred bench and watched the gulls swooping and hovering above the burnt-out wreckage of the enemy plane that was stuck fast in the remains of the pier. There was a glimmer of a chance that she could escape the house in Havelock Road, for Peggy Reilly had often said there was room for her and Mary at her place. But with Mary gone, would that offer still hold?

Mary was the sort of girl everyone took to, for she spoke nicely and was a vicar’s daughter. But Ivy knew that these posh people down south were wary of a girl from the East End. They didn’t understand her ways, or half of what she said for a start – and of course she was always getting into trouble by not keeping her mouth shut.

Ivy sighed. Peggy Reilly was lovely, but she lived in an even bigger house than Doris, with an indoor bathroom as well as a really swanky outside lav – and Fran, Jane, Sarah and little old Cordelia were ever so high-class. Rita was all right – liked a good laugh and a chat, and reminded her of some of her mates back in Hackney – but Ivy worried that Peggy might be already regretting her invitation and rather hoping Ivy had forgotten all about it.

‘It looks like yer on yer own, gel,’ she muttered as she headed for the café in Camden Road. ‘Better make the best of it, I suppose.’

Still drowsy from the night’s sleep, Doreen nestled against Archie’s broad back as the rain hammered against the hotel window. The sound enhanced the feeling of intimacy and warmth, and as she rested her hand lightly on his chest, she could feel it rise and fall with each deep breath. These quiet moments were something to treasure, for the time they’d spent apart had made her realise just how much she loved him. She’d missed his masculinity, the feel of him lying next to her – the touch of his hands, his smell, his smile and the shared glances that spoke far more than any words could do. With Archie, she felt complete.

Doreen softly rested her cheek against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his warm skin. It had never been like this with Eddie, not even in the early years of their marriage, for he’d never made her feel truly cherished, and had been a selfish lover.

At the thought of her ex-husband, she drew back from Archie and closed her eyes. She’d made sure Eddie had no idea of where she was billeted, but his letters had been forwarded on from her previous place, and she’d reluctantly replied to them without giving a hint as to where she was or what she was doing. At first, his letters had been harmless enough – usually full of self-pity and the struggles he was having to make a new life for himself and find work. But just lately they’d taken on a different tone which made her feel decidedly uneasy, and she’d consigned them to the fire and not replied to them.

Doreen moved restlessly against the pillows. His threats had been guarded, but the underlying message was that his visits to their daughters in Wales had proved far too expensive, and if she possessed a shred of decency she should send him some money on a regular basis so that their girls wouldn’t feel totally abandoned by both parents. It was emotional blackmail – a talent that Eddie had perfected over the years, and as time had gone on, and the demands had become more insistent, she’d felt herself begin to weaken.

The guilt overwhelmed her, for she hadn’t had the chance to see Evie and Joyce since they’d been evacuated from London, and she should be with them now, not lying in a London hotel bed with Archie. She tried to relax, to accept that a week simply wouldn’t have been enough time to go all that way, but the guilt persisted. As for Eddie, it was all very well him going on about not finding work – of course there was plenty to be had if only he wanted it, but enlistment or a post in a factory was not something a man like him would even consider. Eddie preferred to spend his time gambling and womanising. As for sending him money …

‘Dor? What’s the matter?’ Archie rolled over in the bed and reached for her.

‘Nothing,’ she said quickly.

‘You can’t fool me, gel,’ he said softly. ‘What is it?’

‘I was just thinking about Evie and Joyce,’ she replied. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve seen them.’

He stroked the hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. ‘I’ve been selfish, wanting you to myself for this week,’ he murmured. ‘But on my next leave, we’ll go straight down there.’

‘That would be lovely,’ she said on a sigh.

He reached across her and turned on the bedside light. His dark blue eyes regarded her thoughtfully. ‘There’s nothing else bothering you, is there? Eddie hasn’t been causing trouble?’

She shook her head and determinedly pushed aside her worries over Eddie’s letters. ‘Absolutely nothing,’ she assured him.

He smiled back at her as he drew her into his arms. ‘In that case …’

Peggy had decided to leave Ron to snore a little longer while she got on with things, for that way, he wouldn’t get under her feet. It seemed that Harvey, his large brindled lurcher, was similarly inclined to have a lie-in, for there had been no sign of him either.

The rain hadn’t let up, but the wind seemed to have died down as the tide went out, and Peggy could only hope that the weather would clear in time for their walk to the Town Hall later in the morning. Having donned her wrap-round pinafore and tied a scarf over her freshly washed hair, she riddled the fire to a blaze in the Kitchener range and heated up the porridge. Then she washed and fed a grizzling Daisy, who was in no mood to be coaxed into anything this morning, and put her in the playpen with her toys so she could get on with things.

Ron’s only decent suit had been sponged and pressed last night and his shirt collar starched, and they were hanging on the back of the kitchen door. His shoes had been polished, but the matter of finding a clean tie was something she’d have to sort out later – just as she would have to deal with Ron’s abhorrence to wearing one.

Peggy stirred the porridge with little enthusiasm as her thoughts skittered over all the things she had to do. Her larder was fairly well stocked with the jams and pickles she’d made the previous year, and Ron’s garden at the back of the house provided her with fresh vegetables, but the cold weather seemed to have affected the chickens, for they weren’t laying as well, and there wasn’t an ounce of meat in the house. It would have to be vegetable stew again tonight, she thought wearily. There simply wasn’t time to stand in an endless queue for the few scraps of scrag-end that Alf the butcher was able to sell her.

She glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece, shifted the porridge off the hotplate and was about to go up to check on Cordelia and wake the girls when Sarah came into the kitchen, dressed and ready for her day’s work in the office at Cliffe estate for the Women’s Timber Corps.

Despite the rather mannish jodhpurs, stout shoes and unflattering green sweater, Sarah’s elegant, fair beauty was not diminished. At just twenty-one, her blue eyes were bright, her figure slender, and her skin was fresh with dewy youth, making Peggy feel rather old and dowdy by contrast.

‘Good morning, Aunt Peg,’ she said as she grimaced at the rain slanting across the back garden. ‘Not that it looks very inviting out there. I hope Jane remembered to wrap up properly. She’ll get soaked through on her milk round.’

Peggy ladled the thin porridge into a bowl and set it on the table. ‘Jane’s sensible enough to dress properly, but I don’t like the thought of you making that long walk across the hills in such dreadful weather,’ she said. ‘It’s a great pity your Captain Hammond can’t organise a lift for you through the winter months.’

Sarah dipped her chin, but couldn’t hide the blush that coloured her cheeks. ‘He’s not
my
Captain Hammond, Auntie Peg, and it’s not his responsibility to organise lifts for me. Besides, he has other more pressing things to concern him at the moment.’

Peggy had always been suspicious about Sarah’s so-called friendship with the very handsome Texan, but as the girl had always strenuously denied any intimate attachment, she had to accept that Sarah was still in love with her fiancé, Philip, who she’d had to leave behind in Singapore. There was a complete blackout of any news coming from there since it had fallen to the Japanese, but Sarah seemed determined to remain hopeful that they would be together again once this blasted war was over.

Peggy sat down and poured out the tea as Sarah ate her porridge. Due to the shortages, and the fact the leaves had been used at least three times, the tea was the colour of dishwater, but it was wet and warm and very welcome on this gloomy day. ‘I don’t see how Hammond can have anything pressing to worry about,’ she said with a touch of asperity. ‘After all, he and his men have been lounging about on the Cliffe estate doing nothing useful for months.’

‘Oh, Auntie Peg, that’s not fair. Troops come and go all the time, and he’s in charge of their training, so of course he has to stay.’ Sarah sipped some tea and the cup rattled in the saucer as she set it down. ‘Anyway,’ she said quietly, ‘you can stop worrying about him and me. He’s leaving tomorrow with his latest batch of GIs.’

Peggy eyed her sharply, for she’d heard the tremor in the girl’s voice and noticed how she’d paled. ‘Where’s he going?’

Sarah shrugged and mindlessly stirred her spoon round and round in the remains of her porridge. ‘I couldn’t tell you even if I knew,’ she murmured. ‘But it won’t be in England, that’s for sure.’

Peggy reached for her hand and stilled the endless stirring of that spoon. ‘You’re going to really miss him, aren’t you?’ she said softly.

Sarah nodded, her eyes suspiciously bright as she refused to look at Peggy. ‘Of course I will. He’s been a good friend.’

Peggy squeezed her fingers in sympathy as all her suspicions clamoured and a teardrop escaped from Sarah’s eyes to glisten on her lashes. ‘He’ll be all right, love, you’ll see. And you can still be pen pals.’

The teardrop fell to be replaced by another. ‘Maybe,’ she murmured. ‘But it won’t be the same.’

‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’ The words were out before she could stop them, and she felt a pang of guilt for the distress in the girl’s face.

Sarah took a deep breath, dashed away the tears and sat in silence, either unwilling or unable to answer her.

‘It’s hardly surprising,’ Peggy continued softly. ‘He’s an attractive man, with winning ways. No one would blame you for falling for him.’

Sarah’s fists clenched. ‘But I blame myself,’ she hissed. ‘I knew how dangerous it was to encourage his friendship – and how vulnerable I am with Philip so far away and out of reach. I’m supposed to be engaged to him, Peggy, but here I am, shedding tears over a married man that I have no right to love.’

She buried her face in her hands. ‘There,’ she sobbed. ‘I’ve finally admitted it, so you can congratulate yourself on being so damned clever.’

Peggy knew the girl was overwrought and so took no offence at her outburst, but moved to take her in her arms. ‘Oh, Sarah, I can only imagine the sort of torment you must be going through, and I’m certainly not congratulating myself over the dilemma you’ve found yourself facing. But this will pass, believe me.’

Sarah lifted reddened eyes. ‘But I feel so ashamed, Auntie Peg. Philip’s more than likely in the hands of the Japanese, and probably clinging to the belief that I’ll remain faithful and be waiting for him when the war is over. And yet I’ve let both of us down by—’

‘You’ve let no one down,’ Peggy interrupted hastily. ‘And I won’t have you berating yourself over it. This blessed war has everyone’s emotions in turmoil. Not knowing if today is to be our last encourages people to do things they would never have dreamt of in peacetime. And you’re far from home, separated from all those you hold dearest, of course you feel lonely and in need of love.’

Peggy paused, unsure whether to say more, and then decided it was time to get it all out in the open. ‘Have you and he … you know … been …?’

Sarah gasped and her eyes widened in shock. ‘Of course not. How could you think such a thing, Aunt Peg?’

Peggy was unfazed, her own experience with Jim during the last war lending her intimate knowledge of how easy it was to throw caution and sanity to the wind and be swept away in the turmoil of overwhelming emotions – just as Doreen was experiencing now with her Archie. ‘It would only be natural when two people are in love during these uncertain times.’

‘Well, we haven’t,’ Sarah retorted. ‘In fact I’ve made sure he doesn’t know I have feelings for him – and even if he did, he’d probably be horribly embarrassed. He’s not the sort of man to even countenance being unfaithful to his wife.’

Peggy was hugely relieved, but didn’t dare show it. ‘I’m sorry I had to ask, Sarah, and I apologise if I’ve upset you.’

Sarah flung her arms round Peggy and gave her a hug. ‘And I’m sorry for flying off the handle. I know you meant well, but I’m all at sixes and sevens at the moment.’ She drew back from the embrace and kissed Peggy’s cheek. ‘It’ll be easier once he’s gone and life can get back on an even keel again.’ She reached for her beret and heavy-duty raincoat. ‘Now I must go, or I’ll be late.’