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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #Romance, #20th Century, #General

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BOOK: Welcome Home
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‘I’ve done my own and my friend’s for years,’ she said, as she combed Pearl’s hair into the latest style
.

‘Who’s your friend?’ Pearl said.

‘Beth,’ Irene said and there was no escaping the wistfulness in her tone. ‘And there was her younger sister, Shirley, too. We often took her out with us. We’ve lived next
door to each other all our lives. We’ve grown up together.’

‘Is she still at home? Back in Grimsby?’ Pearl wanted to know.

Irene bit her lip and easy tears filled her eyes as she shook her head. ‘She’s gone to London.’

‘London? Crickey, that’s about the most dangerous place she could be, isn’t it?’

‘Tell us about Beth,’ Eve said kindly, sensing that Irene needed someone of a similar age to talk to. She doted on her baby boy – that was plain for all to see – and
Reggie was a link with home, but they were neither of them great conversationalists. And Ruth, though she was a kindly, motherly woman, was not interested in fashion and hairstyles. Eve doubted she
ever had been.

So, Irene told them all about her life, ending, ‘I miss my husband and me mam, of course, but me and Beth had something very special. We really are like sisters, better than some,
actually. Well, I suppose she is my sister in a way now.’

‘How come?’ Eve asked.

‘I married her brother, Frank.’

Pearl pulled a comical face. ‘Then you’re lucky. Me and my sister fight like cat and dog. Always have done. My mam used to have to step in between us when we were little.’ She
grinned as she met Irene’s gaze in the mirror. ‘And not so little, too, if I’m honest. I have to say, I’m not missing having my hair pulled out by its roots.’

‘Why don’t you come out with us?’ Eve said suddenly. ‘I’m sure Mrs Schofield would look after little Tommy for you. She adores him. I reckon he reminds her of her
own boys. And Reggie too. She’ll mind them both, I’m sure. He’s no trouble.’

‘She must be worried sick about her lads,’ Pearl murmured.

Irene bit her lip. ‘Oh, I don’t know if I ought to.’

‘Your Frank wouldn’t mind, would he? He trusts you, doesn’t he?’

Irene nodded.

‘Then do come.’

‘Well, if you’re sure, I’ll ask her, and if she says yes, I’ll come out with you to the dance in the village on Saturday night.’

Eve squeezed her arm. ‘Of course we’re sure. We’d love to have you with us. And there are some very handsome RAF lads from the camp that’s not far away. Oh sorry,’
she giggled, ‘you’re a married woman.’

‘You can always look,’ Pearl teased.

‘But you mustn’t touch,’ Eve added and dissolved into helpless laughter.

And so that is how the Saturday evenings out to the dancing at the YMCA hut in the village had started for Irene. For the first few weeks it had been innocent enough, but then she’d met
Ken Forbes.

She’d danced with several of the other RAF lads – a different partner for every dance so that no one got too close or started to take liberties. Not that they’d tried, she
reminded herself; they’d all been perfect gentlemen. And there were several of the village ‘elders’ always present to keep an eye on their local girls and the policeman usually
called in just before closing time to make sure everyone behaved. But then, one week, there was a new face on the bus that arrived from the RAF camp. A tall, slim young pilot officer with short
curly blond hair and merry blue eyes. He’d stood by the bar at the end of the hut with his pals, his eyes raking the room. Irene had watched him covertly, but his glance had settled on Pearl
and he’d made a beeline for her and asked her to dance. They’d only been dancing a few moments, when Mick, a local farmer’s son, had tapped the RAF officer on the shoulder. Even
above the music, Irene heard him say, ‘She’s my girl.’

Irene had seen the newcomer shake his head and his arm tighten around Pearl’s waist. Incensed, Mick grabbed the young man’s shoulder and twisted him round, wrenching his arms away
from Pearl. Before anyone could intervene, Mick had aimed a punch at the officer’s face. Pearl had screamed but it was too late – the young RAF officer was on the floor, his hand to his
eye. Irene had jumped up and rushed across the room, anxious to break up the fight.

‘Now, now.’ The local bobby stepped in, too, before any more blows could be thrown. ‘I think you’d better leave – both of you – but I’d get that eye
seen to, young feller, afore your commanding officer catches sight of it.’ He turned to the local farmhand. ‘And you, Mick, should know better. These lads are a long way from home and
he wasn’t doing any harm. Now, shake hands with our guest and take your young lady home.’

Morosely, the two young men shook hands, but as Mick turned towards Pearl, she stood with her hands on her hips and glared at him, her face red with anger. ‘Well, if you think you can call
me “your girl” any longer after that display, you can think again.’

‘Aw, Pearl . . .’ Mick began to plead, but it was no use. Pearl stalked off to the cloakroom to fetch her coat and called to Eve and Irene. ‘Come on, you two, I’ve had
enough for tonight.’

But Eve was wrapped in the arms of one of the RAF lads and had no intention of leaving early.

‘Irene, are you coming?’

But Irene’s gaze was on the RAF officer, trying to stem the blood flowing from the cut above his eye.

‘I’ll – er – wait for Eve. You go, if you want to.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Pearl snapped and went out into the night.

Irene walked towards the injured young man and said, ‘Come on, let’s get you patched up. There’s a first-aid box in the little kitchen at the back.’

And that had been the start of it. When she’d bathed his face and put sticking plaster over the small cut, they’d sat together for the rest of that evening until the dance came to an
end just before midnight.

‘I don’t think it will leave a scar,’ she told him, thinking that it would be such a shame for his handsome face to be marred.

He’d made light of the injury, but added, ‘I’m sorry it happened. I wouldn’t want to upset the locals. I’ll have to apologize if I see him again. It was my fault.
Please tell your friend I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise.’ He looked so contrite, his apology genuine.

‘I’ll talk to Pearl – see if I can get her to forgive Mick.’

‘I wish I’d seen you first, because if I had, I’d have made a beeline for you.’

As the master of ceremonies – a rather grand name for the young man who organized the weekly village hop – announced that the next dance would be the last, the young RAF officer held
out his hand to Irene. ‘Pilot Officer Ken Forbes at your service.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Although I rather think it was the other way round, but now we’ve been properly
introduced, please will you dance with me?’

How could she possibly have refused such a request?

After that first night, Ken had been a regular visitor to the village dances. He had apologized to Mick, and Pearl had been persuaded to forgive the local boy and their romance was back on
track. Irene thought that, secretly, Pearl had been rather flattered to have two good-looking young men fighting over her. The RAF lads arrived on transport from the camp, but one or two would stay
later than the time the lorry left to take them back. And soon, Ken was one of those who stayed behind, insisting on walking Irene back to the farm. The second time he’d walked her home,
he’d shyly put his arm around her waist. ‘It’s pitch-black tonight. I don’t want you falling over in those high heels.’

Maybe she should have stopped it there and then, but it was so good to feel a man’s arm around her again.

The third time, he had drawn her into a field behind the shelter of a haystack and kissed her gently. ‘You know I’m falling in love with you, Irene, don’t you?’

‘Oh Ken, you can’t – you mustn’t.’

‘Because I might be killed at any minute, you mean?’ he’d whispered sadly.

‘No, no, I don’t mean that. You know I don’t. And – and I’m becoming fond of you. Too fond. But you know I’m married, don’t you?’

Irene had always worn her wedding ring; she’d not tried to hide the fact.

‘I thought perhaps your husband had – you know.’

‘Frank’s away in the army. He’s been gone for years – I think he’s abroad – but as far as I know, he’s all right.’

‘I see.’ There was a pause before Ken had asked softly, ‘But we can still be friends, can’t we? You’ll still come to the dances and let me walk you home,
won’t you?’

Irene hesitated. She really liked Ken. She felt a thrill of excitement when she saw him walking in through the door; her knees actually trembled. It was something she’d never experienced
before. Perhaps that was because she’d known Frank all her life. Maybe Aunty Edie had had a point when she’d said they’d been too much like brother and sister; there had never
been that first ecstasy of falling in love.

But now she knew what it felt like.

Forty-One

As Edie opened her back door, she was surprised to see Shirley at the sink. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone back this morning.’

‘I decided to see if I could get an extra day or two on compassionate grounds. So I rang my superior officer and she granted me another two days.’ Shirley grimaced and said
sarcastically, ‘Generous, aren’t they? Anyway, Dad’s back tonight and I want to hear what he thinks of all this. And how did you get on with Reggie? I’m surprised he’s
not with you.’

Edie set the basket carefully on the table as she said flatly, ‘He really doesn’t want to come back. That’s another thing your dad will have to decide.’

But now Shirley’s attention was taken up with the contents of the basket as she said gleefully, ‘Oooo, what have we got in here?’ Already she was reaching out to unpack the
goodies.

Edie tapped her daughter’s hand lightly and, for the first time in days, she smiled. ‘Now, now, keep your mitts off. Mrs Schofield gave me some eggs, cheese and butter.’

‘Real eggs?’ Shirley’s eyes widened. ‘My, that was good of her.’ Then she smirked. ‘Unless, of course, it was payment for Reggie.’

Edie frowned as she said sharply, ‘He’s worth a darn sight more than a few eggs to me.’

Shirley sat down at the table, still eying the basket. ‘You goin’ to share it with them?’ She tossed her head towards next door.

‘Certainly not.’

Shirley paused before saying craftily, ‘You would have done – before.’

‘Well, I aren’t now,’ Edie snapped. Then she looked guilty and murmured, ‘Although it’s a shame to deprive Tommy just because . . .’

‘Invite him round for tea, then. No reason why we can’t see him. It’s not his fault, is it?’

‘No – poor little scrap. He must be wondering why his gran and Aunty Shirley don’t want to see him.’

‘There’s no need to speak to either Aunty Lil – or
her
. He plays out in the backyard. You can catch him some time and ask him round.’

‘That’s a good idea, duck. I’ll do that.’ Edie glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Mebbe tomorrow, eh? It’s getting late now and my feet are killing
me.’ She sat down heavily in one of the armchairs near the range.

‘You sit there, Mam. I’ll get the tea on.’

Edie blinked and glanced up at the girl as she rose to go into the scullery. ‘What are you wanting to borrow, bein’ so helpful all of a sudden?’

‘Nothing,’ Shirley said airily, but her mother knew there was something she was not telling her. Edie knew her daughter too well to be deceived.

When they’d finished the cheese omelette that Shirley had made with the fresh eggs and cheese and she’d poured her mother a cup of tea, Edie sat back, burped gently and patted her
chest. ‘That was nice but I reckon I’ll suffer for it.’

‘We’ve not been used to decent food for so long,’ Shirley said, pushing the cup and saucer towards her mother. ‘But surely, now the war’s over, things’ll get
back to normal, won’t they?’

‘Not straight away. Me an’ Lil were only saying’ – the words came automatically before she’d stopped to think – ‘we reckon rationing will continue for a
while yet.’

There was silence between them, but Shirley was drumming her fingertips on the table.

‘So, out with it then, miss. What have you been up to?’

For a moment Shirley hesitated and then said bluntly, ‘I’ve written to our Frank and told him.’

Edie stared at her daughter. ‘You shouldn’t have done that. You should have waited till—’

‘He got home? I don’t think so, Mam. He’s got a right to know what that little trollop’s been up to.’

Edie leaned across the table as she said slowly, ‘And what if he doesn’t come home at all now? What if he stays away because
you
’ve interfered in summat that’s not
your business?’

Shocked, Shirley stared back. ‘It
is
our business and,’ she repeated firmly, without a hint of apology in her tone, ‘he’s a
right
to know.’

‘But if he doesn’t come home,’ Edie said menacingly, ‘if I lose another one of me family, I’ll blame you.’

Shirley’s mouth twisted. ‘Oh, I get it. You and your precious boys! You don’t really care that I’m not coming back here permanently, do you?’ She sprang to her
feet. ‘I don’t reckon you even care that much whether Beth comes home or not, do you?’ She paused and then shouted. ‘
Do you?

‘Of course I care about you and Beth,’ Edie said wearily, but they were both uncomfortably aware that her tone lacked conviction.

‘What’s this I hear?’

Lil had opened the front door in answer to the urgent knocking, fearful of what would greet her. When she’d seen who her visitor was, her mouth had dropped open.

‘Norma. Good heavens! What are you doing here? Is something wrong?’

Norma stepped across the threshold without waiting for an invitation. ‘Don’t let’s discuss private matters in view of the whole street, though I expect they all know. Bad news
travels fast and there’re a lot of nosy parkers in this street. You should have moved back home like I wanted you to when Tom died.’

Lil didn’t answer. At the time, their mother had still been alive and had become a querulous, demanding woman, disappointed and bitter with her lot; traits that would only worsen as she
grew older. Lil had known that the real reason her sister had wanted her to move in there had been because she had wanted help to look after the family. But Lil – with Edie’s support at
the time – had resisted and a frostiness had developed between the sisters as a result. They had never been close. Norma resented the fact that Lil had ‘escaped’ from the unhappy
home life by marrying Tom, leaving her to cope with their quarrelling parents and younger siblings. Lil had shuddered – and she did so again now – at the thought of what life would have
been like ‘back home’ after an all-too-brief glimpse of real happiness with Tom.

BOOK: Welcome Home
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