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Authors: Ellie Dean

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BOOK: Where the Heart Lies
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Julie sat forward eagerly. ‘Is this Mrs Reilly likely to change her mind? Is there any way of getting hold of her to see if she has a spare room?’

Katherine pushed back from the desk, opened an enormous filing cabinet and riffled through the endless buff folders until she found the right one. ‘She’s asked to be temporarily off the books, but I know for a fact she has two spare rooms – so she might change her mind once she knows the situation,’ she said thoughtfully.

Julie’s hopes rose. ‘Is there any way of contacting her today?’

‘She’s on the telephone, but I’ll have to make the call in our back office.’ Katherine’s smile was encouraging. ‘Hold on there a tick, and I’ll see what I can do.’

Julie sat in front of the desk and tried to appear calm, but her insides were churning. A billet in a boarding house sounded far more appealing than camping out at the Town Hall, and she just prayed her luck would finally change and she wouldn’t have to spend the night in Eileen’s unwelcoming company.

What a fool she’d been to think her sister would take her in without a murmur – and how stupid not to arrange alternative accommodation before she arrived. She really should learn not to jump into things so quickly, letting her heart rule her head without a thought for the consequences. It seemed the years of discipline and forethought as a nurse had taught her nothing when it came to her chaotic private life.

Katherine returned and sat down. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Harris, but I was unable to reach Mrs Reilly and could only leave a message with one of her young lodgers. But the girl did say Mrs Reilly wasn’t planning to take in any more evacuees until after her daughter has had her baby.’ She looked crestfallen. ‘I’m ever so sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Julie assured her. ‘But what if I was to go and see this Mrs Reilly? Do you think I might be able to persuade her to change her mind?’

Katherine leaned back in her chair and looked thoughtful. ‘It’s not our usual policy, but these are difficult times and you’re obviously in a terrible bind.’ She opened the file and copied down the address.
‘Peggy Reilly’s an absolute treasure,’ she confided, ‘and if anyone can help you, she’s your best bet. Just don’t let on about this, or I’ll get shot.’ She grinned as she handed over the piece of paper. ‘I’ll book you in to the Town Hall, though, just in case. You can let them know if you don’t need it.’

Julie slipped the piece of paper into her coat pocket. ‘Thanks, you’re a diamond,’ she breathed.

‘Better to leave it until teatime just to make sure she’s in.’ Katherine glanced at the clock and pushed back from the desk. ‘That’s me done for the day,’ she said cheerfully. ‘The name’s Kath, by the way. Want me to show you where Beach View is?’

Julie smiled at her friendliness. ‘Please, call me Julie, and it would be very helpful so long as it doesn’t take you too far out of your way.’

‘It’s not that far, and to be honest, I could do with a bit of fresh air and exercise after sitting in here all day.’ Katherine giggled as she slipped on her overcoat and tied the belt round her waist. ‘I swear I can feel every spam sandwich and digestive biscuit going straight to my hips.’

Julie returned her grin, recognising a kindred spirit, and the first spark of a new and interesting friendship. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad in Cliffehaven after all.

Chapter Eight

JULIE AND KATH
left the billeting office and hurried up the hill to the station to fetch Julie’s cases. Changing into her sturdier shoes, she sighed with relief as their familiar comfort cushioned her sore feet. It was almost four in the afternoon, and being Saturday, the shops were on the point of closing, but she managed to buy a small tin of spam and half a loaf of bread before they headed towards Camden Road again.

Kath came to a halt at a corner opposite a large Catholic church. ‘That’s Havelock Gardens beyond the church,’ she explained. ‘It’s the posh end of Cliffehaven, with big houses and gardens that look over the beach. If you go through the little park and turn right into Cliffe Avenue, you’ll find the surgery halfway down. Dr Sayers and his son converted the ground floor of their family home some years ago.’

‘What’s he like?’ asked Julie.

‘Dr Sayers senior’s a bit old-fashioned, and looks like Father Christmas. He can be a bit grumpy at times, but he’s ever so nice really. He’s a widower and came out of retirement to help his son, Michael,
run the practice after war was declared. Michael suffers from asthma, which is why he couldn’t enlist.’

‘Poor man,’ murmured Julie. ‘Asthma can be an awful affliction.’

‘It doesn’t hold him back, though.’ Kath took one of Julie’s cases and they began to walk down Camden Road. ‘He always comes out when he’s called, even in the middle of the night, and he runs free clinics at the Town Hall and hospital, as well as his own twice-daily surgeries.’ She sighed. ‘He’s really nice, but far too thin. My mum reckons he needs a wife to fatten him up.’

Julie shot her a glance of curious amusement. ‘Do I detect an attraction to the thin but caring young doctor?’ she teased.

Kath chuckled. ‘I fancied him when I was in primary school, but that’s as far as it went. My chap is on a minesweeper somewhere in the Atlantic.’

Julie saw the wistfulness in her face. ‘Is he a local too?’

Kath nodded. ‘He and his brothers worked on their dad’s fishing boats before they enlisted into the RNR. His name’s Patrick.’ She sighed. ‘I do miss him.’ She looked back at Julie. ‘So, what’s your story, Julie? Have you got a chap, and is it as bad in London as it says in the papers?’

Julie gave her a potted history of the war in London and how it had devastated so many lives. She kept it concise and almost impersonal, aware
of how easily the tears would start flowing if she let her emotions come into it. ‘As for men, I’ve given up on them,’ she finished. ‘The last one was a disaster.’ She drew to a halt outside Eileen’s door and smiled. ‘I’ll tell you all about him next time – if you want to meet up again, of course.’

Kath grinned. ‘Absolutely,’ she said, ‘and I’ll introduce you to some of my other friends and show you round.’

‘Well,’ said Julie, ‘this is me. How far is it to Beach View from here?’

Kath looked up at the window above the bakery. ‘Is this where you’ve left William?’ At Julie’s nod she grimaced. ‘I’m surprised Eileen Harris offered to mind him,’ she said. ‘She’s not exactly the warm, cuddly type, and I’ve had many a run-in with her over council policies regarding evacuees. Anyone would think she was running the town council, not just a secretary.’ Her blue eyes widened as realisation dawned. ‘Oh, goodness,’ she breathed. ‘Is she a relative? Have I put my foot in it?’

Julie smiled. ‘Not at all,’ she assured her. ‘My sister and I have very little in common, which is why I’m looking for somewhere to stay.’ She remembered Eileen’s dire warnings not to talk about their relationship and quickly added, ‘Keep that to yourself, though, Kath.’

‘My lips are sealed.’ Kath glanced at her watch. ‘I’d better get back home. Mum will need help getting the tea. Beach View is down there,’ she said,
pointing to the end of Camden Road. ‘Cross over at the junction into Beach View Terrace and it’s the third house on the left.’

‘I’d ask you in, but . . .’

Kath grinned. ‘It’s all right, Julie. I understand. How about we meet for a cup of tea or something tomorrow afternoon? There’s a nice little café just opposite the hospital.’

‘I’d like that,’ said Julie, returning the grin. ‘About three?’

‘You’re on, and good luck with Mrs Reilly. TTFN,’ Kath added cheerfully, and hurried back along Camden Road.

Julie knocked on Eileen’s door, then, after several anxious minutes, had to knock again. What on earth was she doing? Had she gone out and left William alone? She was about to knock for the third time when, with a sigh of relief, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Eileen silently opened the door then headed back upstairs. ‘You’d better have a key,’ she said as she gained the landing. ‘I can’t keep running up and down these stairs all day.’

‘I’ve just popped in with me cases and to check on William before I try to secure our lodgings,’ said Julie, as she lugged the cases upstairs. ‘How has he been?’

‘He’s been asleep, thankfully, so I was able to catch up on some of my important paperwork.’

Julie crossed the sitting room and looked down
at the sleeping baby. Resisting the urge to cuddle and kiss him, she turned back to Eileen. ‘What is it you do exactly?’ she asked.

‘I work as personal assistant to the head of the town council. It is a demanding and important post, which keeps me at the heart of all local policy-making and in direct touch with government legislation. That is all I am permitted to tell you.’

‘It seems you’ve come a long way from working as a typist at the tool factory,’ said Julie. ‘Well done.’

Eileen made no comment as she sat down at the table by the window and gathered the papers strewn across it. ‘Have you found accommodation? You’ve been gone a long time.’

Julie told her about the offer of a bed at the Town Hall, and her hopes of being taken in by Peggy Reilly. ‘There are still a couple of hours before you have to go out, so I thought I’d go to the surgery next. I want to introduce meself to the doctors and pick up my duty schedule as well as some sort of map of Cliffehaven. The town’s bigger and more spread out than I thought, so I hope they’ll provide me with a bicycle.’

Eileen placed the papers in a sturdy briefcase which she locked with a snap. ‘I have a perfectly good map you may borrow,’ she said, ‘but I expect it back as soon as you’ve made yourself familiar with the area.’ She reached across to the crammed bookshelf, found the map and handed it over.

‘Thank you.’ Julie tucked the map into her coat
pocket. ‘So, is it all right if I leave William here a bit longer?’

‘I suppose so.’

Julie remembered the flask of formula she’d stowed in her gas-mask box and pulled it out. ‘If he wakes, just pour three ounces of this into a clean bottle.’ She rummaged in her case and found one, setting it beside the flask on the couch. Hesitating momentarily, she added a clean napkin. ‘He might need changing . . .’

‘I might not like babies, but I do know my way around one,’ Eileen said impatiently. ‘Being the eldest sister, I used to help with you and Fran.’

Julie looked into those cold eyes and thought she saw something flicker there, but it was too fleeting to identify. ‘Thanks, Eileen,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

‘See that you are.’ Eileen took the key from the table and held it out. ‘I want that back first thing tomorrow.’

Julie pocketed the key and checked on William, then hurried down the stairs. She was aching with hunger now, but it would have to wait until she was certain she had somewhere to sleep the following night.

Peggy wearily stepped out of her elderly friends’ house where she’d been cooking and cleaning for most of the afternoon, and took a deep, welcoming breath of fresh air. The house had been damaged in
a tip-and-run raid the day before, and Jim and Ron had done as much as they could to cover the gaping hole in their roof, make the chimney safe and bring most of their furniture downstairs. The poor old dears were very confused, and simply couldn’t cope with all the dust and debris that littered the two habitable rooms, so Peggy had stayed long after Jim had gone off to his work as a projectionist at the Odeon cinema, and helped to scrub the place clean and make sure they at least had a hot meal.

She wrapped her coat about her as she hurried through the gathering gloom towards home. Bert and Mabel were a lovely old couple in their eighties and had lived in Cliffehaven all their lives. They’d been married for over sixty years and refused to be evacuated to their daughter’s in Scotland, but Peggy was worried that they weren’t eating properly or looking after themselves, especially now that the district nurse had left to join the medical corps.

She closed her front door behind her and leaned against it for a moment to catch her breath. Dragging off her filthy headscarf, she hung her coat on the rack in the hall and kicked off her shoes. She felt grubby from head to foot and just hoped there was enough hot water for a bath.

Anne and Mrs Finch were preparing a supper of fried mince, onions, potatoes and leeks, and Peggy blessed their kindness. ‘I left them both with a nice hot meal,’ she said, sinking into the armchair by the range, ‘but I worry about them, I really do.’

‘You look all in, Mum,’ said Anne, turning from the range where she was frying the mince. ‘Here, have a cup of tea and forget about everyone else for a bit.’

‘Thanks, darling,’ she said gratefully as she took the cup and cradled it in her dirty hands. ‘I’ll drink this and then have a bath.’

‘There’s plenty of water,’ chirped Mrs Finch. ‘The girls haven’t come in yet.’

Anne tipped the mince mixture into a large pie dish and began to cover it in mashed potato. ‘It’s a bit early to put this in the oven, so I think I’ll go for a bit of a walk,’ she murmured. ‘The baby’s been restless today and I need to stretch my legs and get some fresh air.’

Peggy regarded her anxiously. ‘It’s getting quite dark out there, Anne. Don’t go too far, will you?’

‘I’m not planning a route march, Mum,’ Anne teased, ‘just a gentle stroll down to the seafront to ease the aches and pains.’

‘Pains?’ Peggy said sharply.

‘Just the same little niggles and aches that I’ve had for weeks,’ Anne soothed. ‘Enjoy your bath and I’ll be back before you know it.’

Peggy caught Mrs Finch’s eye as Anne left the room. ‘I suppose it won’t do any harm,’ she sighed, ‘but I don’t like the sound of those aches and pains.’

‘You worry too much,’ said Mrs Finch. ‘Anne’s a bright girl, she knows what’s best.’

Peggy gave a deep sigh and then finished her tea. ‘Where’s Ron?’

‘Out with Harvey and his old man’s army,’ said Mrs Finch, with an impish smile. ‘All spruced up in his uniform so he can go and court that Rosie Braithwaite at the Anchor when he’s finished his silly manoeuvres.’

Peggy smiled. Rosie Braithwaite was the landlady of the Anchor, a delightful, glamorous woman of indeterminate age whom Ron had lusted after for years, and who seemed to enjoy the chase. She dragged herself out of the comfortable chair. ‘I’m glad he’s got Rosie to spar with,’ she murmured. ‘At least she keeps a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye – and that’s got to count for something in these dark times.’

BOOK: Where the Heart Lies
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