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Authors: Shirley Hughes

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BOOK: Whistling in the Dark
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S
oon after the tribunal ended, Ronnie came to the house, and he and Mum remained immersed in deep conversation in the front room for a long time. None of the family knew what was being discussed, and Mum clearly had no intention of telling them.

“It’d be typical of Mum to stick with this wretched engagement in spite of him being in trouble,” said Audrey.

“Even if he gets moved out of the area?” Joan asked. “They wouldn’t be able to see much of each other then.”

“People get separated all the time these days. It doesn’t make them any less fond of each other,” Audrey said, and then added sadly, “I ought to know.”

She had recently turned down a couple of invitations to dances from local admirers who were home on leave, even though staying in every Saturday evening, writing letters to Dai and longing for replies, was making her increasingly short-tempered with the rest of the family.

Several weeks passed and they saw no more of Ronnie. It was Joan who inadvertently witnessed the final, totally unexpected blow that changed everything.

She and Mum were setting out to the shops early one Saturday morning to queue for the family rations when a woman neither of them recognized planted herself firmly in their path. Joan had spotted her before, strolling up and down on the other side of the road and glancing up at their house. She was about Mum’s age, plump, carefully made-up and very smartly dressed.

“Excuse me. You’re Mrs Armitage, I believe?”

Mum stopped and smiled. “Yes. Have we met before?”

“No. I’m not from this area. My house is in Aldershot. But I’ve been staying here for a few days at the Rockview, a private hotel near the promenade.” She paused. Mum waited encouragingly. “I believe you and your family have been very hospitable to my husband since he’s been stationed here,” the woman went on, looking them both carefully up and down.

“Your husband?”

“Yes. Ronnie. Captain Ronnie Harper Jones. I am Mrs Harper Jones.”

There was a stunned silence. Joan tried hard to melt into the background as she watched a slow flush creeping up Mum’s neck. The woman shot a beady glance at her, then turned back to Mum.

“Won’t you come into the house?” said Mum faintly. “A cup of coffee, perhaps?”

“No. No, thank you. I’m just on my way back to the hotel to pack. I’m catching the train home from Liverpool this afternoon. I just wanted to thank you for the hospitality you’ve extended to Ronnie while he’s been stationed here. He and I are separated, as you know. I’m Catholic, so there has never been any question of divorce. And now, since all the recent trouble he’s had, being summoned before the tribunal and everything, I’ve decided to give our marriage another chance. His next posting will be quite near to my home, so he will be able to join me when he can at weekends. Make a fresh start, as it were.”

She was looking hard at Mum with a fixed smile, carefully calculating the effect her words were having. Joan edged closer to Mum, wishing that the ground would open and swallow them both.

After another long pause, Mum cleared her throat and said, “Of course. I’m sure he’ll be greatly missed here. He’s done such a lot of good work locally…” Then she faltered into silence.

There was a gleam of triumph in the woman’s eyes. She was affable now, as though she had scored a very satisfactory goal.

“Well, I must be on my way…”

“Are you sure we can’t offer you—”

“No, really. I shall miss my train if I don’t hurry. I just wanted to express my appreciation to you personally. Kindness means
such
a lot in these difficult times.”

She cast one more glance at Joan, then offered her hand to Mum. “Goodbye. I’m so glad I was able to meet you.” A brief handshake, one last look, then she turned and walked briskly away, her high heels tapping on the pavement.

For a moment, Joan thought Mum was going to faint. The flush had drained from her face and she was very pale. She took Joan’s hand and they both stood there for a while in silence.

“Come on, Mum. Let’s go back indoors and I’ll make you a cup of tea,” Joan said. Together, arm in arm, they walked slowly back to the house.

CHAPTER 25

T
hat was the end of Ronnie.

His departure was very discreet. As soon as his transfer came through, he was replaced by a brisk younger officer, Captain Fletcher, who was reported to be taking the local black market situation very seriously indeed.

“What
bliss
that we’re never going to see Ronnie again,” Audrey said when she, Brian and Joan were gathered together around the fire in the front room, revelling in having it all to themselves. “How could he possibly have thought that he could ever get away with being engaged to Mum when he had a wife already?”

Brian was in the highest of spirits. “What a break! The best thing that’s happened since the Battle of Britain. I always knew that chap was as bogus as a soya sausage, but it never crossed my mind that he was
married
!”

“Perhaps he was banking on telling Mum when she had finally accepted him,” said Audrey. “Then, when he had got the ring on her finger, he would have put her through the whole messy business of waiting for him to get unhitched from his previous missus. Poor Mum. It’s just so humiliating for her. Thank heavens nobody locally knows, so there won’t be any poisonous gossip. We mustn’t mention any of this to anyone, not even our closest friends. And we must keep it from Judy or she might go and let the cat out of the bag.”

Mum was clearly too upset to talk about it, even to them. The one saving grace was that none of their friends, not even the Russells, seemed to have got wind of the existence of Mrs Harper Jones. It seemed that she had been tactful enough not to make her brief visit known to anyone except Mum. And having scored a bull’s-eye, she had returned to Aldershot in triumph.

This was a great relief to Joan. The thought of such a hot item of gossip hitting the Bluebell Cafe or being circulated at school was too horrific to be contemplated.

Joan could imagine only too well what a meal Angela Travis and her gang would make of it. But she kept remembering Mum’s words to them when she broke the news of Ronnie’s proposal – about how lonely she felt sometimes, and how much she longed for somebody to look after her. That situation looked as though it was going to be an ongoing certainty now.

Joan was impressed by how brave Mum could be. This was borne out in the following weeks after Ronnie’s departure, when she made herself go out and about locally, chatting to neighbours and other parents at the gates of Judy’s school. The family tried to do likewise. Judy gradually got tired of asking why Ronnie didn’t come round and bring her sweets any more, and all talk of weddings faded from her mind.

Local rumours about Ronnie and his possible connection with the black market died down surprisingly quickly after he had been transferred. In spite of the impact he had made, all the generosity, the socialising and the charity dances were soon forgotten by the ladies of the Bluebell Cafe.

But the scandal of the black market had certainly not gone away. It was hitting the headlines of all the main newspapers. They revealed that goods were being illegally shifted on an alarming scale from several major ports, one of them being Liverpool, and being sold throughout the country at enormous profit. Joan only glanced at the headlines:
STOP THIS SHAMEFUL TRADE! MAJOR CRACKDOWN PROMISED SOON!

She found herself remembering that day when she had been waiting for Audrey near the Liverpool docks and had caught sight of Ronnie’s face in the cab of an unmarked lorry. She wondered if he had been transporting food then. If only she’d realized it at the time. But that was all over now. Ronnie had gone from their lives, and she felt it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.

The Blitz was so intensive that even visits to the local cinema were being ruled out by parents in case the building took a direct hit. Sitting cooped up at home every evening, waiting for the siren to go, was wearing a little at the family nerves. They were all on edge, especially Audrey, whose only escape from worrying about Dai was to have interminable telephone conversations with her friends, thus making it impossible for anyone else in the family to take a call. Sometimes during a raid, the line was cut off altogether.

“I don’t know how much longer I can stick this,” said Doreen gloomily as she and Joan were walking home from school together. “I really wanted to see the new Rita Hayworth film,
The Strawberry Blonde
. You know, it’s that American comedy that has absolutely nothing to do with the war or people being heroic. But Mum doesn’t want me to go, in case the air raid starts early. It’s just
so
boring at home. She’s out working, driving her lorry all the time. David does endless schoolwork, and Dad is so busy we barely see him. In fact, he’s really bad-tempered these days. He snapped my head off the other day when I was playing some dance music on the radiogram. Told me to turn it off, pronto. He never used to be like that.”

“My mum’s pretty edgy too,” said Joan. “Hardly ever laughs like she used to. She’s on her own such a lot these days, and Judy’s being an absolute pain, as usual.”

“Let’s have a get-together after school,” said Doreen. “The whole gang – you, me, Ania, Brian, Ross and Derek, and David, if he can make it. We could scrounge some food.”

“Great. Where could we have it?”

“Somewhere on neutral ground. No grown-ups. What about one of the shelters on the prom?”

“But it’d be
freezing
!”

“Not too bad if we keep our coats on. We could bring hot drinks in thermos flasks.”

Joan shot a glance at Doreen. She thought how characteristic of her it was to have such a crazy, upbeat idea in the face of general dreariness. She was a wonderful friend, someone who could always be relied on to liven up even the most trivial event with a lot of laughs. She also had the confidence to stand up to bullies or anyone she thought was a “phoney”, and, above all, she was truly loyal.

“OK, we could try it,” Joan said. “Let’s tell the others and try to fix a day.”

Ross and Derek took a lot of persuading.

“A bit chilly for a picnic, I should think,” Ross said. But when they heard that Brian, David and Ania were all game, and that Doreen might be able to get hold of some cakes, they decided to give it a go.

When the day came, the cutting wind that usually blew in from the estuary seemed to have calmed down a little. Great hordes of seagulls soared and dipped over the shallow pools that the receding tide had left in the mud. There was nobody about.

When Joan arrived with some plastic cups and plates that she had stolen from the attic, she found Ania already there, wrapped up warmly in the winter coat that her new hosts had found for her. It was several sizes too big, and her little face emerged eagerly from the turned-up collar. Ross and Derek were next. They had managed to get hold of some sticky buns. All four of them sat in a row on the less draughty side of the shelter and made desultory conversation while they waited for the others to arrive. As the afternoon light began to fade, Ross and Derek started to get restless.

“Don’t think much of this picnic,” said Ross. “Looks as though the others aren’t going to turn up.”

“They’ve probably found something better to do,” said Derek. “Let’s eat these buns and clear off!”

Ania was disappointed. “A little while longer, yes? This is like special day for me, to be with my friends, when I am so hopeful that I see my Uncle Lukasz again soon. It make me so happy.”

But almost as soon as she had spoken, Brian appeared, speeding along the deserted pavement on his bicycle. As he flung it down, they could see from the look on his face that he had bad news.

“What’s wrong?” Joan asked him anxiously. “What’s happened to Doreen and David?”

“They won’t be coming,” said Brian. “They’ll be at home with their mum. It’s all over town. Mr Russell’s been arrested for selling food on the black market!”

CHAPTER 26

T
he picnic was abandoned, of course.

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