Welcome Home (34 page)

In the middle of the morning, Shirley arrived to an ecstatic welcome from her mother. ‘Oh Shirley, you’re the first one home. Welcome back, love.’

‘Don’t get too excited, Mam, I’ve only come on leave. I’ve to go back tomorrow night.’

Edie’s face fell. ‘Oh, I thought you’d be coming home for good.’

Shirley grinned. ‘We’ve to get demobbed, just like Frank, and it won’t be for a while yet. And besides –’ suddenly, she hesitated – ‘I’m thinking
of staying on in the forces in some way, Mam. I’ve really taken to the life. I really don’t want to go back to being just a shop girl.’

Edie stared at her. ‘Not come home? Oh Shirley, not you an’ all. Please say you don’t mean it. And there’s nothing wrong with working in a shop, let me tell
you.’

‘You’ll have Frank back, Mam, and Beth and, of course, Reggie.’

‘That’s just it, Shirley.’ Edie wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. ‘Reggie’s not coming home. He wants to stay with the Schofields. Look,’ she
reached for the letter propped behind the photograph of Laurence on the mantelpiece, ‘see for yourself.’

Shirley read the letter with a frown. ‘But he’s not old enough to make such a decision, Mam. You can
make
him come back.’

‘Well, yes, I suppose so.’ Edie was doubtful. ‘But can you imagine your dad agreeing to that? He’s always been adamant that we should let our kids do what they want in
life.’

Shirley shrugged. ‘When Reggie’s older, yes, but not yet, surely. Anyway,’ she said, folding the letter and replacing it on the mantelpiece for Archie to read when he came
home, ‘it’s not my worry, thank goodness. Now, I’d better go and find Ursula and see if she’s coming to this party.’

‘I haven’t seen her lately,’ Edie said. ‘To be honest, I don’t even know if she’s still here.’

‘I’ll go and see.’

Shirley found her friend in her room. She looked thin and pale and, at first, was reluctant to open the door.

‘What’s up, Ursula? Are you ill?’

‘No – yes – I’ve had a cold,’ she said lamely.

‘Then it’ll do you good to come out and celebrate with the rest of us.’

‘I don’t want to join in. People think I have a strange accent. They might think I’m German. It’d be best if I stay here.’

‘Don’t be silly, Ursula,’ Shirley reassured her. ‘If they were going to think that, you’d have heard it long before now.’

Ursula remained silent. She did not tell her friend that there had been several times when her nationality – and her loyalty – had been questioned. She’d even been taken to the
police station on two different occasions when neighbours of her landlady had reported that there was a ‘woman with a funny accent’ living in their street. She had managed to answer the
questions satisfactorily, but she could still see the doubt in the officers’ eyes.

‘Mam won’t let anyone say a word against you, Ursula, and nor will I. Just stop worrying and looking so anxious or folk will start to think there’s summat fishy. Get your coat
’cos you’re coming with me.’

Out in the street, Shirley linked her arm through Ursula’s and made her sit at one of the tables just outside her own home. ‘Now have some of Aunty Lil’s “if-it”
cake and for Heaven’s sake,
smile
. This is supposed to be a celebration.’

There weren’t many men present, just a few fishermen who were not at sea, dock workers, those engaged in reserved occupations, men too old and boys too young to have gone to war. And,
although the Home Guard stand-down had taken place the previous December when they had become an inactive reserve unit, today several of their number still proudly wore their uniform, knowing that
it would now be inevitable that they would soon cease to exist altogether. When the dancing began, no man present was left a wallflower. Even young boys, much to their disgust, were press-ganged
into dancing with their mothers or aunts, but they drew the line at dancing with girls of their own age. Girls were soppy, was the general opinion amongst boys until they reached a certain age when
their interest changed.

‘Harry’s never been so popular,’ Jessie laughed, taking a breather to stand beside Edie and Lil. ‘Ah, there’s the photographer from the
Telegraph
. I must get
the children lined up for a photo with their paper hats on.’

‘Where’ve all those come from?’ Edie said, staring at the children running riot, but each child was sporting a colourful paper hat.

‘Oh, I made them,’ Jessie said, airily. ‘Now, where’s the Mayor gone? He ought to be in the centre of the picture.’ And she dashed away again.

Edie and Lil laughed together.

‘I just don’t know where your sister gets her energy from, Edie. She must have been making all those hats for weeks. And she always looks so smart too. Look at her today in her
costume, high heels and her own patriotic hat. How clever she is. Who else would have thought of shaping a Union Jack scarf into a hat? She puts the rest of us to shame in our pinnies and sensible
shoes.’

Edie’s smile faded. ‘I reckon it’s because she’s got no kids, you know. It was a bitter disappointment to both her and Harry and she’s always been the same. Keeps
herself that busy, she hasn’t time to brood.’

‘Aye, I know, I know,’ Lil said softly, and she did. The long years of widowhood had often been lonely and burdensome. What Lil would have done without the friend now standing at her
side, she didn’t know.

Even Norma had made a grudging appearance, standing outside her sister’s house and viewing the proceedings with her lips pursed in disapproval. ‘I expect this racket will go on half
the night. It’s the same down my street,’ she was heard to grumble, but no one was taking any notice of her. The war was over; there was peace at last and their menfolk would be coming
home. Demobilization would take months, maybe even a year or two before everyone was home, but at least they would be coming back. So many would not and even on this day of ecstatic celebration,
Edie was not the only one to spare a quiet thought for her lost boy. But she kept her sadness to herself, plastered a wide smile on her face and joined in the singing in a raucous voice.

And then at three o’clock the sound of Big Ben came over the wirelesses. The windows were flung open and Mr Churchill’s voice echoed down the street, telling everyone that the war
was finally over, that the representative of the German High Command and Government, General Jodl, had signed the act of unconditional surrender and that the people might allow themselves ‘a
brief period of rejoicing’. Although he sounded a note of caution, warning that there were still tough days ahead, because Japan still fought on, no one took any notice as cars and vans
hooted and the people, waving flags and sporting home-made rosettes in red, white and blue, laughed and cheered and joined hands with strangers to dance. Not even the drizzly weather could dampen
their spirits.

The merrymaking had no sign of abating when, by late afternoon, Edie and Lil fetched chairs from their houses and set them on the pavement outside Edie’s front door watching the end of the
street where they hoped Irene and Tommy would appear.

‘I reckon your Norma’s right. This lot’s going to go on half the night.’

Lil chuckled. ‘All night, probably, Edie. Jessie said Harry’s trying to organize fireworks for later. And as long as Terry keeps playing that piano, they’ll keep
dancing.’

‘Aye, well, let ’em, I say. The youngsters haven’t had much fun for years. If I was twenty years younger, I’d be in amongst ’em myself.’ Then she glanced down
the street again. ‘Mebbe we should have gone to the station to meet Irene, Lil. She might have a lot of luggage.’

‘She said not to, Edie. Said she’d manage.’

Edie laughed – a deep, infectious chuckle. ‘Always Miss Independent, your Irene. Ah, now is this her?’ Edie squinted down the street. Both women stood up, eager to welcome
Irene and Tommy home. ‘Naw, can’t be. It’s a lass pushing a pram.’

But as the young woman drew nearer with a young boy walking beside the pram, Lil said, ‘It
is
her.’ For a brief moment she felt a stab of fear. What on earth . . . ? But then
she smiled. ‘It’s the one she took with her, Edie. Tommy was only tiny – remember? I ’spect she’s bringing it back and using it to carry her luggage.’

They were silent for a moment, staring down the street until Edie said harshly, ‘Mebbe so, Lil, but I don’t reckon I’ve ever heard a suitcase make a noise like that.’

Quite clearly now, echoing down the length of the street, were the wails of a young baby and the noise was coming from the pram which Irene was pushing.

The young woman, with blond hair drawn back from her face into waves and curls to her shoulders, was dressed in a short-sleeved print floral dress. She faltered and stopped a
few feet from her mother and Edie, her blue eyes troubled and apprehensive. Tommy, now four and a half, clung to the pram handle and leaned against his mother’s skirt. He stared at the two
older women as if he didn’t recognize either of them. Perhaps he didn’t for he’d hardly seen either of them since he’d left Grimsby.

‘Mam?’ Irene said hesitantly. Briefly, her glance took in her mother-in-law. ‘Aunty Edie.’

Lil felt faint and clutched at the chair to steady herself. She just continued to stare at her daughter, opening and shutting her mouth though no words would come. It was Edie who said, bluntly,
‘What’s all this, Irene? Is it yours?’

Irene bit her lip and flushed scarlet. There was no need for her to answer; her reaction told them the truth. Edie turned on her heel, went into her house and slammed the door so hard that Lil
flinched.

After a moment’s pause, whilst both Irene and Tommy waited, the little boy staring up at his grandmother with soulful brown eyes, Lil said flatly, ‘You’d better come in.’
She held out her hand to Tommy, though she made no move to hug her daughter. And she didn’t even glance into the pram.

Inside the house, with the door firmly closed against prying neighbours – even Edie – Lil faced Irene. ‘Now – you’d better explain yourself, my girl.’

Lil had so looked forward to her daughter and grandson coming home and now it looked as if it was all going to be spoiled.

‘Aren’t I welcome, Mam?’ Irene asked in a husky voice. ‘Because if not, then I’ll go back to Mr and Mrs Schofield.’

‘And do they think this’ – Lil waved her hand towards the pram and the still crying infant – ‘is your husband’s?’

Irene bit her lip and shook her head. ‘Look, Mam. She’s yelling because she’s hungry. Let me feed her and put her down and then we – we can talk.’

‘Oh aye. And what makes you think I want to talk? Mebbe I want to put you straight back on the train and send you packing. That’s what I ought to do.’ And silently she added to
herself – it’s what I’ll have to do if I want to stay friends with Edie.

Irene lifted her head and stared back at her mother with a defiance in her eyes that Lil had never seen before. Irene had always been biddable, a good little girl, though Lil remembered she
could be stubborn if the mood took her. But now . . .

Lil sighed and relented. ‘Feed it, then, if you must, and then we’ll decide what’s to be done.’

‘It’s a she, Mam. And her name’s Marie.’

Irene bent and picked the yelling child out of the pram. Now, Lil could see that the baby was about three or four months old with fair, downy hair and though, at the moment, she was red-faced
with crying, she could see that the baby was a pretty little thing.

Irene sat down in the easy chair beside the fireplace and unbuttoned her blouse.

Shocked, Lil waved her hand towards Tommy and said, ‘You don’t let him see, do you?’

For the first time since she’d arrived home, Irene smiled. ‘He’s used to it. Besides, he’s seen all sorts in the country, haven’t you, love?’

Lil bit her lip and then said firmly, ‘Come with me, Tommy, and I’ll get you summat to eat. You must be hungry, an’ all.’

As she led her grandson into the scullery, peace reigned as the baby began to suck noisily at Irene’s breast. Normally, such a sight and sound would have filled Lil with joy, but now the
sight of the little girl horrified her.

Oh, Irene what have you done? And where will it all end?

‘There, lovey,’ Lil said gently to the young solemn-faced little boy. ‘You eat that up.’

Tommy gazed up at her and in his piping voice he said, ‘You’re my grandma, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I am.’

He frowned. ‘You came to the farm, didn’t you?’ Lil nodded, her throat too full to speak. She had been so happy to see Irene and Tommy well settled in the countryside. The
Schofields had seemed such nice people, but had they stood by whilst
this
had happened and done nothing, said nothing?

‘Your daughter and her little boy will be fine with us, ducks,’ Ruth had said. ‘Don’t you worry about them. We’ll look after them. In fact, you’d be welcome
to come here too, if you can.’

Sorrowfully – how she wished she could have said ‘yes’ – Lil had shaken her head.

‘I can’t – I’m doing war work. I don’t think I’d be allowed.’

‘That’s a shame,’ the kindly woman had said, ‘but you’re welcome to visit them any time.’

But it hadn’t been possible for Lil to travel even the relatively short distance to the village near Louth many times during the years that her family had been there. She had contented
herself with Irene’s newsy letters. At least, Lil realized now with a shock, they’d been full of news and everything that she and Tommy had been doing when they’d first arrived.
She even remembered snippets of the letters word for word for she’d poured over them so many times.

Two sons, Lil remembered. Was it one of them who had fathered Irene’s bastard? Lil shuddered at the dreadful word, for that was what that poor bairn was – or was
she? Lil wasn’t sure what the law was if a married woman gave birth to a child who wasn’t her husband’s. She wondered what Irene had put on the birth certificate. Maybe
she’d had the sauce to put Frank’s name. Edie would be incensed if that were the case.