Chapter Sixteen
The entire family caught the trolleybus to the station the next afternoon, and even Harvey was allowed to travel if he kept still between Ron’s legs – which he didn’t, of course: there were far too many interesting smells to sniff and people to greet.
The train was already waiting at the platform, the steam billowing from the smoke-stack as servicemen and -women clambered aboard and knots of tearful families made their fond farewells. The station echoed with the cries of children, the hiss of steam and the slamming of train doors. Piles of kitbags and suitcases had to be circumnavigated, and Ron grabbed Harvey just as he was about to cock his leg on one of them.
Peggy tightly gripped the boys’ hands as she slowly made her way through the chaos. Her dark eyes were enormous in her pale face, but it seemed she was determined to be stoic and not let them see just how hard it was to let them go.
Ron kept the dog on a tight leash as Jim and Harold loaded the cases and kitbags into the carriage and took the wheelchair to the guard’s van. He pinched the boys’ cheeks and ruffled their hair, promising to look after Harvey and their precious train-set as Harvey enthusiastically licked their faces. Anne and Cissy kissed them before Peggy swamped them in her embrace.
‘Now, you be good for Vi,’ she murmured to Charlie and Ernie, ‘and remember to wash properly and leave a clean plate at mealtimes. I will write to you every week, and as soon as I’m allowed, I’ll be coming to visit.’
Charlie looked up at her, his little face working as he tried not to cry. ‘Will you come very soon?’ he asked plaintively.
‘As soon as I can, I promise,’ she assured him, her face stiff from the effort of controlling her emotions. She turned to Bob, who was trying so hard to be brave and grown-up about leaving. ‘Try not to grow too quickly,’ she said, her smile faltering. ‘Sally’s already let those sleeves down twice.’ She softly kissed his hair. ‘And take care of the young ones for me, Bob, there’s a good boy.’
‘I’ll look after them, Mum,’ he said solemnly. ‘You don’t need to worry.’ He kissed his mother and gave her a swift embrace before ducking his chin and turning to grasp Charlie’s hand. Without looking at his mother again, he determinedly watched the stoker shovelling coal into the yawning mouth of the fire beneath the train’s boiler.
Jim grabbed all three boys and held them tightly for a moment. ‘I’ll see you soon enough; now you be good and do as Vi and Harry tell you. All right?’
They nodded and he reluctantly let them go.
Sally gathered Ernie to her heart and held him close. ‘Have lots of fun, luv, and the next time I see you, I want you to be nice and fat and strong.’ She kissed his little face and looked deeply into his eyes. ‘Me and Peg will come and visit as soon as we can. I promise.’
‘I know yer will, Sal,’ he replied. ‘I love yer, you know?’
She could only nod as her father gathered her to him and kissed her cheek.
‘I’ll come to see you on my next leave,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t worry about Ernie, he’ll be fine.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Good luck, Sal, and remember – there will be blue skies over England again. This war can’t last forever.’
He kissed her again and then swung Ernie into his arms. ‘Come on, son,’ he said softly. ‘Let’s get this adventure started, shall we?’
Jim put his arm round Peggy. Anne and Cissy held hands and Ron chewed the stem of his pipe as Harvey howled and tried to reach the boys. Sally could barely see through her tears, and she flinched as her father slammed the carriage door. The sound of it echoed through the station like a gun-shot.
The guard blew his whistle and they moved as one towards the open window and the beloved faces. The train’s great iron wheels began to turn and the thick white smoke and steam filled the air as they walked alongside the carriage, touching hands and faces, calling out a few last words as they had to run to keep up.
As the train picked up speed, Sally and the Reilly family were soon stranded at the end of the platform. They waved and called out, but it was impossible to know whether they’d been heard, for the train taking that precious cargo was rapidly moving around the bend – and out of sight.
They stood in silence as, at last, the tears could fall. Peggy collapsed against Jim, and Anne took Sally’s hand. It was a sad and defeated little group that slowly left the station and made its way back to Beach View.
Three days had passed since Harold and the boys had left, and now Anne was firmly ensconced at the OC barracks, it felt stranger than ever for Peggy not to hear their voices, or to have their things littering the house. Anne had promised to return home as often as she could and, despite her sadness, Peggy had acknowledged to Sally that Anne had done the right thing, for her face had been animated, her spirits high as she’d been driven away by Martin.
It worried Sally that Peggy was still pale, with dark shadows beneath her eyes, but she seemed to use her sadness to bolster her determination. She moved about the house with her usual bustling, organising the men, helping Sally to pack, fussing over washing and ironing, and preparing the rooms for the new lodgers. It was almost as if she was afraid to stop – because then she would have to face the stark fact that her family had been torn asunder.
Sally had stayed until the Saturday to keep her company; the nurses were due to arrive the following day. She stood in the bedroom she’d shared with Ernie for almost a year and took one last, lingering look before she closed the door and took her cases downstairs. Pearl’s father-in-law was coming for her in his van, and he would be here in a few minutes.
She kissed Jim and Ron goodbye and patted Harvey, who seemed as bewildered as the rest of them at the rapidly emptying house. Then she turned to Peggy and embraced her. They had talked long into the night since the boys had left, and now she was leaving, there didn’t seem to be anything left to express – except her heartfelt thanks.
‘I’m not far away,’ Sally said, ‘and I promise to call in every week. Thank you for everything,’ she murmured, battling with mixed emotions.
Peggy sniffed and dabbed her eyes. ‘You wouldn’t think a person could cry so many tears, would you?’ she said with a watery smile. She patted Sally’s cheek. ‘Good luck, my dear. I hope everything goes well with John.’
Sally linked arms with her and went into the hall as the horn was tooted outside. ‘I’m going to see him tomorrow,’ she replied. ‘l’ll let you know how things are when Pearl and me come over on Sunday.’
Peggy quickly opened the front door and called down to the man in the van. ‘Can you come in for a minute? Only I’ve got something heavy that needs taking with you.’
Sally frowned as the burly fisherman ran up the steps and Peggy showed him into the dining room. ‘Jim will give you a hand,’ said Peggy, nudging her reluctant husband forward.
‘Peggy,’ breathed Sally, as the two men heaved the sewing machine down the steps and into the back of the van. ‘Are you sure about this?’
‘When was the last time you saw me using that thing?’ retorted Peggy. ‘You’ll make far better use of it than I will, and there’s no point in it sitting here gathering dust.’
‘Oh, Peg, you’re a diamond.’ Sally hugged her hard, grabbed her cases and ran down the steps before she spoilt it all by bursting into tears.
Clambering into the van, which stank of fish, she wound down the window and leant out. ‘I’ll see you on Sunday,’ she called, as the engine growled into life and the gears were clashed.
As the van trundled down the hill and headed for the line of terraced cottages at the far end of the promenade, Sally leant back in the seat and gazed at the sea. She wasn’t leaving home for ever – just making her way in the world like any other much-loved daughter. The knowledge that Peggy and the Reillys would always support and encourage her gave her the strength to look eagerly to the future, and walk towards it with self-assurance.
The terraced house stood in a quiet street that looked over rooftops to the fishing station. There were two bedrooms, the parlour, bathroom and kitchen, with an outside lav in the pocket-handkerchief back garden.
It hadn’t taken long to unpack her cases and organise Pearl’s front parlour into her sewing room, and when she was satisfied, she and Pearl took two deckchairs into the garden and raised their cups of tea in a toast to friendship and new beginnings.
Peggy had steeled herself against the silence of that empty house as she’d watched Sally being driven away. She’d discovered that if she kept busy and didn’t think about things too much, she could cope. But Sally’s leaving had hit her hard, and she closed the front door with the sense that, by doing so, she’d brought a chapter in her life to an end.
The arrival of three nurses on her doorstep a couple of hours later had the house ringing once again with voices and hurrying footsteps, and Peggy welcomed the sounds and the need to cater for them all. They seemed very young as they donned their uniforms and hurried down the street to the hospital – but then, thought Peggy, everyone seemed to look young these days.
She’d stayed up to greet the fourth nurse, a Staff Nurse Brown, but when she still hadn’t shown by the time the last bus had gone, Peggy went to bed.
She lay there fretting for a while before Jim put his arm round her and kissed her ear. ‘You and your chicks,’ he murmured fondly. ‘Talk about a mother hen. How’s about a bit of attention for this old rooster before the air-raid sirens go off?’
‘Jim,’ she giggled, snuggling against him. ‘You are a caution.’
Peggy had left Jim in the house to wait for Staff Nurse Brown, while she went to the church with some flowers for Alex’s grave. She found a strange sort of comfort, sitting there in the late summer sun, telling him everything that had happened. She supposed it was because she didn’t have to hold back on her thoughts and emotions as she did with the living.
On her return to Beach View, there was still no sign of the missing nurse, and Peggy telephoned the Billeting Office and was assured she was still coming. She decided she should learn some patience and get on with her day. The girl was obviously held up somewhere – which was hardly surprising, since she was coming from Hereford.
Peggy was in the kitchen preparing the tea when she heard the knock on the front door. ‘That must be her,’ she said, whipping off her apron. ‘She’s probably been ringing that bell for half an hour. I asked you to fix that weeks ago, Jim Reilly,’ she said crossly, as she hurried into the hall.
Opening the door, she discovered a thin, dark-eyed and exhausted-looking young woman on the doorstep with a battered suitcase. ‘You must be Staff Nurse Brown. I was getting worried you’d never make it through.’
The young woman frowned and shook her head. ‘I am a nurse, yes, but I am not Staff Nurse Brown. I am here to find my brother. My name is Danuta Chmielewski.’
‘Oh, my dear,’ breathed Peggy, the tears springing in her eyes. ‘Oh, you poor child, come in, come in.’
Sally had woken that morning and greeted her day off with a smile. Pearl had already left for the factory, so she took her time in the bathroom and dressed carefully. Leaving the house, she tucked the door key in her handbag, shouldered the gas-mask box, and set off for the quiet, tree-lined street where John lived with his widowed mother.
It was a sturdy house of two storeys with a bay window overlooking the small square of neat front garden. Pushing through the gate, Sally took a deep breath as she walked up the path to the front door and pressed the bell.
Mrs Hicks looked flustered as she kept the door almost closed and peeped round it. ‘I told you when you telephoned that he didn’t want to see you,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m sorry, dear, but it really won’t do you any good, and the doctor says he mustn’t get upset or agitated.’
‘Please, Mrs Hicks. I know what he said, but you see I don’t think he really meant it. I won’t upset him, but I have to see him, I just have to.’
The door was begrudgingly opened wider. Betty Hicks looked careworn, but her hair was freshly washed and her cotton frock was covered in a neat floral pinafore. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ she muttered. ‘He’s being particularly awkward today.’
Sally stepped into a sundrenched hall that smelled of furniture polish and roses. Her pulse was racing, her hands were clammy and her tongue felt as if it was glued to the roof of her mouth.
‘Who is it?’ shouted John from somewhere at the back of the house.
‘You’ve got a visitor,’ his mother called back.
‘I told you, Mum. I don’t want any visitors.’
Sally and Betty Hicks exchanged glances. ‘This one refuses to leave, so you’d better make yourself decent,’ she replied. She tilted her head in the direction of his voice. ‘He’s in the kitchen,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘Well,’ shouted John. ‘You can tell whoever it is to bugger off. I don’t want to see anyone.’
Sally took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen. John was sitting on a chair and morosely staring out through the glazed doors that opened on to the back garden. He was in his pyjamas and didn’t look as if he’d washed or shaved for days.
‘I’ll bugger off when I’m ready and not before,’ she said firmly. ‘But I’m not surprised you don’t want visitors. You look a fright.’
He stared at her in disbelief and hastily pulled the dressing gown over his pyjamas. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked rudely.
‘Waiting for you to offer me a cup of tea.’ She dumped her bag and gas-mask box on the table. ‘I’ve had quite a walk from Arden Terrace, and it’s a warm day.’
‘Then you’ve wasted your time. There’s nothing here for you Sally. Go away.’
‘Not until I’ve had a cuppa.’ She reached for the kettle, checked the water level and lit the gas-ring. Ignoring him, she searched for the pot and cups and saucers. Finding a bowl full of sugar, she set it aside with the milk, and fetched the packet of biscuits from her handbag.
‘I don’t want any tea.’ His tone was petulant.
‘Then I won’t make you any.’
‘I don’t want you here, either. Go away.’
She turned from the stove, folded her arms and looked at him. ‘You know, John, you’re beginning to sound like Ernie. At least he’s got the excuse of being only seven. What’s yours?’
‘Are you blind as well as deaf?’ His dark blue eyes flashed with something Sally couldn’t translate. He yanked up the pyjama trouser legs, exposing a horribly mangled and scarred left leg which was held together with long metal rods and vicious-looking screws – the right leg had a tin prosthesis bound to the knee with thick leather straps.
‘And your point is?’ She returned his gaze steadily.
‘It’s tin,’ he snapped, giving it a hard rap with his fist.
‘So? At least you’ll never suffer from woodworm.’
He burst out laughing.
‘That’s more like it,’ she said softly, turning away to make the tea. Her hand wasn’t quite steady as she carried everything to the table and sat down. ‘Now you seem in a better mood, perhaps we can talk?’
His eyes held hers for a long moment. ‘I’ve already said everything, Sally. You’re wasting your time.’
She poured two cups of tea, added sugar and milk and pushed one towards him. ‘It’s my time, John. I can do with it what I please.’
He swept the cup and saucer aside and slammed his fist on the table. ‘Go away. Leave me. Bugger off. I don’t love you. Don’t want you. Never want to see you again.’
She took the hammer-blows of his words like a boxer reeling from punches as she watched him closely and finished the cup of tea she didn’t really want. John couldn’t look at her and, despite his cruel words, there was desperation and terrible loneliness in his eyes that made her yearn to reach out to him, to take him in her arms and make everything all right again.
But she said nothing as she cleared up the mess on the floor. When she finished, she gathered her things and stood looking down at him. His chin was sunk to his chest, his shoulders slumped.
‘You win,’ she said quietly. ‘It was nice knowing you, John. I hope the leg heals soon and you can go back to work.’
She was trembling as she went into the hall. Was she making the worst mistake of her life? She gathered all her courage, forcing herself to believe she was doing the right thing. Looking up, she saw his mother’s worried face as she peered down from the landing – but Sally signalled for her to stay there and say nothing. She opened the front door and slammed it shut, then stood in the hall and held her breath as she listened.
The first sob was deep and heartbreaking. The second was deeper and cut her to the quick – but still she remained in the hall. His voice drifted out to her, broken with his tears and anguish. ‘Oh, Sal, Sal,’ he wept.
Sally dropped her things on the hall carpet and moved swiftly and silently back into the kitchen.
John was slumped over the table, his face buried in his arms, the sobs wracking his frame as he repeatedly whispered her name.
Moving to his side, she put her arms around him. ‘I’m here, John,’ she murmured against his cheek. ‘I’ll always be here.’
‘Oh, Sal,’ he groaned, as he turned to wrap her in his arms and bury his face in her neck. ‘I do love you, of course I do. But I have nothing to offer you – not any more.’
‘I only want your heart,’ she said, kissing away his tears. ‘The rest is easy.’
He raised his head and looked into her eyes, searching for the truth. ‘Are you sure? Can you really love someone like me?’
‘Why not?’ She stroked back his hair and cupped his face. ‘You’re still my John, aren’t you? I wouldn’t care if you had two tin legs as long as you loved me.’
‘Of course I love you, Sally Turner. I’ve loved you since that first day you nearly got yourself shot.’ He tentatively moved closer, his lips seeking her mouth.
Sally’s tears mingled with his as their lips met. In that moment they re-forged the bond they had so nearly broken, and took their first hesitant steps into the future. They would be faced with many trials and tribulations, but together, they would overcome them all. For it was a bond that would endure and strengthen for the rest of their lives.