Chapter Nine
It was at last Christmas Eve and the whole house was scented with festive cooking. Sally had finally managed to have a quiet word with Anne over the bullying at school, and felt some relief that, once school began again, Ernie would be guarded more closely in the playground.
Pearl arrived mid-morning and Anne kept Ernie amused and out of the way while the two girls shut themselves in Sally’s bedroom, discussing what she should wear for the tea party. She didn’t really have much to choose from, as she’d had little time to make clothes for herself over the past weeks, but by the time Pearl had to leave for work, they’d decided on the lace blouse and fitted navy skirt.
After helping Peggy with the lunch, and making sure Ernie was fully occupied, Sally had returned upstairs late that afternoon to have a bath and wash her hair in the lovely shampoo Peggy had loaned her. Rubbing it dry with a towel, she attempted to bring order to the dark-blonde curls, but, as usual, they seemed to have a mind of their own, and she’d had to resort to the combs again.
Carefully stepping into the freshly ironed skirt, she smoothed it over her hips and pulled on the blouse which she tucked into the waistband. A navy belt she’d salvaged from a dress went perfectly, the pretty buckle gleaming in the sunlight coming through the window.
It was going to be all right, she kept telling herself, as she hung the navy sweater over her shoulders just like Anne did. The rain had stopped, the sun had come out, she’d wrapped all her Christmas presents – and John Hicks would be here soon.
She gasped in horror as she looked at the clock. He’d be here any minute, and she hadn’t done a thing to help Peggy with the tea. Ramming on the sturdy shoes which spoilt the whole effect, she ran downstairs to the kitchen.
‘You look lovely,’ said Peggy.
‘Yes, you do, and I have the perfect earrings you can borrow.’ Anne hurried away as Peggy checked on the steaming Christmas pudding and finished dusting the cake with the last of the icing sugar.
‘That looks delicious,’ said Sally, her mouth watering.
‘It’s only sponge,’ she said ruefully. ‘I couldn’t find any dried fruit for love nor money, so there won’t be a proper Christmas cake this year. Thank goodness I have a store of plum puddings.’
She turned from the cake and dug into a box that was sitting on the kitchen chair. ‘I hope these will fit, Sally, but I thought you’d like something a bit more glamorous than those you’re always wearing.’
Sally gasped as she pulled out a stylish pair of navy and white shoes. They were of the softest leather, with an elegant heel, and a bow just above the peep-toe. ‘Oh, Peggy,’ she breathed. ‘Are you sure? They look brand new.’
‘They were a gift from my sister Doris, last Christmas,’ she said, ‘but as I don’t go anywhere to wear them, they sit in the cupboard untouched. You may keep them if you like.’
Sally couldn’t stop grinning. It seemed Christmas had already arrived. Carefully easing her bare feet into the shoes, she discovered they fitted perfectly. ‘I feel like Cinderella,’ she said, and laughed as she tottered on the heels and had to steady herself.
‘As long as that doesn’t make me one of the ugly sisters,’ laughed Anne, returning to the kitchen. She handed Sally a pair of clip-on earrings. ‘They aren’t real pearls,’ she said, ‘and they might pinch a bit after a while. But they’re the finishing touch you need for that outfit.’
Sally put on the earrings and studied the effect in the glassed portrait of the King and Queen that hung above the range mantelpiece. ‘I look very grown-up,’ she breathed.
‘You look like a very pretty sixteen-year-old girl who’s having a bit of fun for a change,’ said Peggy. ‘Now, perhaps we can get on and finish putting out the tea.’
Sally rushed to help, carefully balancing on the unfamiliar high-heeled shoes that forced her to move more slowly – and, she hoped, as elegantly as Anne and Cissy. Carrying the plates of sandwiches into the dining room, she thought she’d never seen it look so lovely.
The heavy curtains had been drawn and in the bay window stood a fir tree decorated with shiny baubles and tinsel, its clean, winter-pine smell mingling with the sweet burning apple-wood in the hearth. There was more tinsel draped over the picture frames, and long, colourful paper chains festooned the ceiling. The boys had been busy making them over the past three days.
The mantelpiece had been decorated with holly, candles and trailing ivy – and with three red felt stockings, each embellished by Sally with ribbon that spelled out each boy’s name. The sewing machine had been tucked into a corner to make room for two more comfortable chairs, and Ernie’s wheelchair was festooned with balloons and yet more silver tinsel.
The six small tables had been firmly wedged together, and were now covered with a crisp white cloth that had crocheted lace at the hem. In the centre was a bowl of artfully arranged holly, mistletoe and ivy. The best china was set out, and there were white paper napkins with pictures of holly on them on each side-plate.
Sally gazed in awe at everything. This would be a real Christmas, with a real family, so very far removed from the ones at home when Dad wasn’t around. No wonder Ernie was so excited. ‘You’ve been ever so busy, Peggy. It all looks wonderful, and I’m sorry I haven’t been much use today.’
‘I didn’t expect you to be,’ she replied, putting down a plate of scones and rearranging the pots of jam. ‘Anyway, I had Anne and Cissy to help, and that was quite enough, what with Jim and Ron getting under my feet.’
She moved the central floral display half an inch to the left. ‘Put the cake there, Anne,’ she ordered, ‘and mind you keep room for the teapot. I’ll just go and get the sausage rolls.’
‘Sausage rolls?’ said Anne. ‘How did you get hold of sausage meat, and enough fat for pastry, when you used the last for the cake?’
There was a pink flush to Peggy’s face as she avoided her daughter’s eyes. ‘I swapped a tin of fruit salad for the extra marg with one of the neighbours. Your dad brought the sausage meat home last night along with a nice fat capon. As I needed all of it for the next couple of days, I didn’t ask where he got them.’
‘Someone mention my name?’ Jim strolled into the dining room with Mrs Finch clinging to his arm. He carefully helped her into the armchair by the tree, and handed her the bag of knitting.
‘You’ve been at it again, haven’t you, Dad?’ hissed Anne. ‘If you get caught, you’ll have all of us in trouble.’
‘Now, then, Annie me darling, don’t you be fretting your pretty head about a bit of sausage and an old chicken. To be sure the butcher was glad to give them in exchange for a couple of hares.’
‘If you believe that, you’ll believe anything,’ muttered Peggy. ‘Ron hasn’t been out for at least three days, so where those hares were supposed to come from, I don’t know.’
‘Can I bring these boys in now?’ said Cissy plaintively from the doorway. ‘Only I’m sick of being stuck down in the basement with them, and they refuse to listen to a word I say.’
Without waiting for permission, Bob and Charlie dashed into the room. Cissy put Ernie carefully on his feet, and gave him his walking stick.
He eyed it with loathing and dropped it to the floor before hobbling over to the tree. His eyes shone as he stared at it in wonderment. ‘Cor,’ he breathed. ‘I ain’t never seen one that big before.’
Then he caught sight of the stocking with his name on it over the fireplace, and almost tripped over the rug in his eagerness to reach it. ‘Will Santa really come?’
‘Of course he will,’ said Sally. ‘Come on, Ernie, you promised you’d sit still and be good.’ She carried him to the wheelchair and plonked him down before handing him a comic.
He eyed her solemnly. ‘You look different,’ he said. ‘And them shoes ain’t yours.’
Sally was saved from having to reply by an urgent chorus from the other two boys. ‘Can’t we have tea yet? Why do we have to wait?’
The demands fell on deaf ears as Peggy made them sit on the floor with their books. ‘You’ll stay there and mind your manners,’ she said sternly, ‘otherwise there will be no cake.’
‘You look very glamorous, Sally,’ murmured Cissy, taking in the shoes and clothes. ‘But you could do with a bit of make-up to bring out your eyes. I can do it for you if you like?’
‘Oh, I dunno,’ replied Sally. ‘D’you think I should? Only I feel a bit overdone as it is, and I only got a bit of one of Mum’s old lipsticks.’
‘Quite right, Sal,’ said Jim. ‘You’ve the looks of a film star about you today. You’ll not be needing powder and paint.’ He shot his youngest daughter a glance, taking in the mascara, rouge and lipstick.
Cissy didn’t seem at all put out as she sank gracefully into the other armchair and proceeded to arrange her pleated skirt and pale pink cardigan to her satisfaction. With a cautious pat to her bright blonde head, she turned her attention to the latest Picturegoer magazine.
Ron sauntered into the room with a very muddy Harvey. He was still dressed in his poacher’s coat and cloth cap, but at least he’d taken off his boots. ‘Is the tea ready, Peggy? Sure, and I’m spitting feathers.’
She eyed him in horror. ‘Not until you’ve taken the dog downstairs, got rid of that coat and cap and had a wash,’ she said, and sighed with exasperation. ‘Honestly, Ron, we’ve got a visitor coming, and just look at you.’
‘I thought it was young John coming, not the blooming King,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve known that boy since he was in nappies. He’ll not be minding a bit of honest dirt.’
‘Well I do,’ she retorted. ‘Out – the pair of you.’ She advanced on them, and Harvey was the first to beat a hasty retreat, Ron hard at his heels.
Sally hurried to fetch the dustpan and brush, and was sweeping up the muddy paw-prints from the rug when the doorbell rang. She scurried back to the kitchen. ‘Oh, Gawd,’ she muttered, stowing them in the cupboard under the sink. ‘I don’t know if I can do this.’
Ron’s face and hair were wet from his vigorous ablutions at the sink. He reached for the kitchen towel and rubbed himself dry. ‘Last-minute nerves, eh?’ He chuckled. ‘I remember the first time I went over the top. Nerves were jumping so bad I thought I’d pee in me pants, so I did. Did I ever tell you how I got me shrapnel?’
‘I see nothing’s changed, Ron.’ The amused voice came from the doorway. ‘Still going on about that war you won single-handedly, eh?’ John Hicks stepped into the kitchen, his dark hair glistening with raindrops, the heavy raincoat soaked at the shoulders.
‘You’re looking well, John, so you are. It’s been a while, me boy.’ Ron pumped his hand enthusiastically as he grinned up at him.
John’s gaze drifted beyond the older man and settled on Sally with dark blue intensity for a moment before he returned his attention to Ron. ‘I’ve got something for you, Ron,’ he said, digging into the deep pocket of his raincoat. ‘I hope you’re still smoking this rough old stuff.’
‘Well, I’ll be …’ Ron took the roll of tobacco and set about filling his pipe. ‘I always said you were a good boy, John. God bless your soul.’
Sally saw Peggy scuttle back into the dining room, and watched the scene nervously, waiting for the moment when John could give her his full attention. She didn’t have to wait long.
‘Hello Sally Turner,’ he said, that long-lashed blue gaze settling on her again. ‘I brought you something too. Call it an early Christmas present.’
‘Oh,’ she said nervously. ‘You shouldn’t ’ave done that. I ain’t … haven’t got nothing for you.’
He dug in another pocket and handed her a square parcel neatly wrapped in Christmas paper. ‘I didn’t expect you to,’ he said lightly, ‘but you’re not to unwrap that until tomorrow.’ He gazed down at her. ‘You look lovely,’ he murmured.
Sally blushed and couldn’t think straight with him looking at her like that. She clasped his gift, longing to open it – but full of remorse that she had nothing to give in return. After a moment of agonising silence, she finally remembered her manners. ‘Your coat’s soaked through,’ she managed. ‘Let me hang it up.’
He untied the belt on the navy gabardine mackintosh and undid the buttons before dragging it off. ‘It’s a heavy old thing when it gets wet,’ he said, draping it over the chair by the range, and rooting about once more in the pockets.
He pulled out a bottle of rum, three candy-striped paper bags, and four small wrapped parcels. ‘I feel like Father Christmas,’ he said. ‘I hope I’ve remembered everyone.’
‘If those are what I think they are,’ she said, eyeing the paper bags, ‘then the boys will be thrilled. You are kind,’ she finished softly.
‘I like Christmas,’ he replied, ‘and I especially like the way your eyes light up with gold flecks when you’re smiling.’
Sally heard Ron snort and didn’t know where to look. ‘Flattery will get you nowhere,’ she stammered.
‘I have to do something to get you to notice me,’ he murmured.
She looked up at him and grinned. ‘Oh, I think you’ve already done enough,’ she replied, ‘what with pulling me under benches and tripping me up on rubble.’
‘Sorry about that, but if you will keep getting into dangerous situations, what’s a man to do?’
She had no answer to this and was quite relieved when the moment was broken by Jim’s hearty voice.
‘Well, John, and it’s good to see you.’ They shook hands, and Jim’s eyes widened as he was handed the rum. He gave a low whistle. ‘You obviously have better contacts than me, son. I haven’t seen this much rum for months.’
‘It was a gift from a grateful householder who had a chimney fire.’
Jim patted the bottle and grinned. ‘To be sure and we’ll have a good tot of this before the night’s out. Come away in and set you down. The others are waiting.’
John glanced over his shoulder and gave Sally a wink as Jim steered him forcefully across the hall and into the dining room. Sally clutched her present and followed them, Ron’s clumping footsteps close behind her.
Peggy kissed John’s cheek in thanks as he handed her one of the little parcels, and asked after his parents. Cissy and Anne thanked him prettily, and Mrs Finch blushed like a young girl as John handed her the small gift and wished her a Happy Christmas. Bob and Charlie were getting overexcited and demanded to be allowed to eat their sweets immediately.
‘All the presents are going under the tree until tomorrow,’ said Peggy, gathering them back again and trying to be stern. ‘And that goes for yours as well, Sally.’
She realised she’d been clutching the parcel to her chest, and hastily placed the precious gift beneath the sweet-smelling branches as John approached Ernie.
‘Hello, Ernie,’ he said quietly, hunkering down so they were on the same level. ‘You don’t know me, but my name’s John. And these are for you – but you’d better do what Peggy says, or I’ll be in a whole heap of trouble. And we don’t want that at Christmas, do we?’
Ernie solemnly shook his head, his large brown eyes fixed on John. He was clearly torn between excitement and doubt. ‘Are you Sal’s boyfriend?’
‘Of course not,’ said Sally hastily.
John just smiled and kept his focus on Ernie. ‘Not yet,’ he replied, ‘but I’d like to be.’ He leant in a little closer, his voice low. ‘I think I’m going to need your help, young Ernie,’ he confided. ‘You see, your sister isn’t at all sure she likes the look of me yet.’
Sally could feel the heat in her face as everybody watched the little scene.
Ernie eyed him closely. ‘You look all right to me,’ he muttered. His eyes brightened and he grinned. ‘Are you really a fireman? Have you got yer engine outside? Can I ’ave a ride on it?’
‘I haven’t got it with me today,’ he replied carefully, ‘but perhaps I can arrange for you, Bob and Charlie to visit the fire station and have a go at riding it and ringing the bell. How would you like that?’
‘Cor,’ breathed Ernie. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really,’ he replied, swiftly glancing at Sally to make sure she approved. ‘But you might have to wait a while, we get very busy sometimes.’ He stood and grasped the wheelchair handles. ‘Come on, Ernie, let’s put those sweets under the tree, and then we can all tuck into what looks like a smashing tea.’
Sally sat on one side of Ernie, John the other and, as the conversation swirled around her, she shot surreptitious glances at him. He was certainly handsome, and had a lovely way with him. Ernie was clearly in the throes of hero worship, and Mrs Finch was actually flirting with him. He seemed very much at ease, and Sally liked the way he kept bringing her into the conversation, talking of things she would know about, asking her opinion and seeming to value it. He was courteous, never overstepping the mark, but when his steady gaze held hers a fraction longer than necessary, she could read something in his eyes that made her feel all trembly inside.
She pondered on all this as she ate the delicious tea and, when the meal was over, she helped clear the table and do the dishes while the three men challenged the boys to a raucous game of snakes and ladders.
‘So?’ Peggy put the last of the dishes back in the cupboard. ‘What do you think of him?’
‘He’s nice,’ she replied softly.
‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’ Peggy took off her apron and smiled. ‘He clearly thinks rather a lot of you too.’
‘Really?’ Sally felt a surge of happiness that someone as special as John Hicks might actually like the look of her.
‘Oh, yes.’ She dumped the apron on the table, took John’s steaming coat from the chair and hung it on the hook behind the door. ‘Now, come on Sally, enough of this idle chitchat. Those boys are going to have to go to bed soon, and I doubt they’ll go willingly after so much excitement. I don’t know about you, but I could do with a drop of that rum and a few minutes with my feet up.’
One board game had led to another until all the boys were thoroughly overexcited. Peggy called a halt to the proceedings when Bob started accusing Charlie of cheating, and dragged the pair of them downstairs to their beds.
‘It’s way past your bedtime, young man,’ Sally said quietly to Ernie, who’d been fighting sleep for at least the last hour. ‘Say goodnight, and thank John for his present.’
‘Thanks ever so,’ he said. ‘Will you carry me upstairs? Sal says I’m getting too ’eavy, and I don’t wanna be dropped on me ’ead.’
Sally was about to protest when John hoisted the boy over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and carried him into the hall. ‘Which way?’
‘Two flights up, middle door.’
John ran up the stairs with Ernie squealing in delight and clinging tightly to John’s white shirt. Sally followed more slowly and, when she entered the bedroom, she found the pair of them sitting on the edge of the bed grinning up at her.
‘You both look as if you’ve been up to no good,’ she said, and laughed. ‘And don’t think you’re getting out of having a proper wash just because it’s Christmas, Ernie Turner.’
‘See,’ said Ernie with a grimace. ‘I told you she was bossy.’
‘Sisters, eh?’ He ruffled the boy’s hair before getting to his feet. ‘I’ll leave you to it, Sally,’ he said. ‘Unless you want a hand?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Ernie bounced on the bed. ‘I want John to put me to bed.’
‘I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll see you downstairs, John.’
Once Ernie was washed, she massaged him, soothing the tender muscles in rhythmic sweeps, calming the little boy until his eyelids fluttered and he fell into a deep sleep.
Kissing him softly, she tucked the bedclothes round his shoulders and crossed the room. She studied her appearance in the wardrobe mirror, and realised with shock that her eyes were shining and her skin glowed. For once in her life she actually looked pretty.
‘Probably the effect of that glass of rum,’ she muttered. Cross with herself for letting her excitement get the better of her, she snapped off the light, left the door ajar so she could hear if Ernie called for her, and hurried downstairs.
The bottle of rum had been enthusiastically shared as the three men discussed the phoney war that had yet to really show its teeth, and the frustrating lack of information coming from the government. No-one really knew anything, and as the months had passed with little evidence of any real or lasting attacks on the capital, a great many evacuees had returned to London and people had carried on their ordinary lives. It was the general consensus that, despite the awful things happening in Europe and the Baltic States, where their troops were doing sterling battle against the enemy, the British Isles seemed to have been forgotten.
John prepared to leave shortly after Sally came down from seeing to Ernie. He said goodnight to everyone, and Peggy ordered Jim and Ron to get on with drinking their rum and talking nonsense while Sally saw him to the door.
Sally followed him into the kitchen and watched as he wrestled into the thick mackintosh. ‘Thanks for everything,’ she said. ‘It’s been ever so nice to get to know you, and Ernie’s that excited about your fire engine. He’ll be on about it for days.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ he murmured, as they walked slowly to the front door. ‘I’ll see if I can get something sorted within the week. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him waiting too long.’
Sally reluctantly reached for the doorknob. The evening was over, and she wanted so much to see him again – but, as he hadn’t suggested it, she supposed she’d just have to wait until he invited them all to the fire station.
He stilled her hand as she went to turn the doorknob. ‘Can I see you again?’
Sally could feel the warmth of his hand, and the tingle that went up her arm. She looked up at him and saw the earnest appeal in his mesmerising eyes. ‘If you’d really like to,’ she replied shyly.
‘Perhaps you’ll let me buy you that cup of tea I offered the first time we met?’
‘That would be nice.’
He smiled down at her as he opened the door. ‘Good night, Sally Turner,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll sleep well tonight and dream of those gold flecks in your lovely eyes.’
She giggled. ‘Get away with yer,’ she spluttered. ‘You do talk soft.’
‘I know. Silly isn’t it?’ He blew her a kiss and ran down the steps into the teeming rain.
Sally could hear his happy whistle long after he’d been lost in the darkness, and she closed the door, daring to dream that maybe, just maybe, she might, after all, have the chance of a less lonely future than she’d always envisaged.
Ernie woke her in the middle of the night, crying because his back and legs were aching. Sally ran down to the kitchen to fill a stone hot-water bottle; wrapping it in a towel, she got him to snuggle up to it while she massaged him back to sleep.
Lying in the darkness, she could hear the church bells calling people to Midnight Mass. It was almost Christmas Day. She turned off the bedside light and opened the curtains.
The sky was as black as velvet, studded with twinkling stars, and she could see the frost dusting the rooftops like icing sugar. Staring out at the heavenly display, she wondered what her parents were doing. Florrie was probably out dancing, but Dad would be at sea, perhaps looking at the same stars. She hoped he was thinking of her and Ernie, and she wished with all her heart that he could be here for Christmas.
Sally closed the curtains, checked on Ernie and climbed into her bed. There had been no word from him, and she had to hope he was all right. Comforting herself with the thought that Florrie probably hadn’t told him where they were, and that he’d come to visit as soon as he could, she closed her eyes and let her mind wander through the day, and the little scene on the doorstep.
With a soft smile of contentment, she was soon asleep.
Christmas Day started with the boys rushing up from the basement to bang on their parents’ bedroom door demanding to be allowed to open their presents. Once everyone was awake and dressed, they converged in the dining room with their cups of tea to watch the boys plunder their stockings.
Sally could feel the tears prick as Ernie pulled out a comic, socks and scarf, sweets, marbles and a toy gun. His little face was pink with pleasure, his eyes sparkling despite the disturbed night’s sleep. ‘This is a smashing Christmas, ain’t it Sal?’ he breathed, waving the gun and pretending to shoot Mrs Finch.
‘Yeah, luv, it’s the best,’ murmured Sally.
‘Can we stay ’ere for ever and ever?’
Sally ruffled his hair and forced a smile. ‘Maybe not for ever and ever,’ she said softly, ‘but for a while yet.’
Peggy must have noticed his little face crumple. ‘I know, Ernie,’ she said brightly. ‘Why don’t you and I find everyone’s present from under the tree? Then you can help me hand them out.’ She took his little hand and Ernie happily went with her.
These people are so good, thought Sally. They’ve taken us in and given us a real home – loved Ernie and me as if we were their own. I can’t bear the thought that one day we’ll have to go back to Bow.
‘Here we are,’ said Peggy, breaking into her thoughts. ‘I thought you’d like to open this one first.’
Sally blinked back her tears and carefully unwrapped the pretty paper from the square box John had given her the night before. She gasped with surprise and pleasure as she took out the neat, cream leather bag. It looked expensive and smelled wonderful, and tucked under her arm so neatly, it was as if it had been made for her. On closer inspection, she discovered it was lined with black rayon, and there was a zipped compartment which held a mirror set in a frame of the same leather. His card nestled at the bottom of the bag.
I hope you have a lovely Christmas. Try not to get any bullet-holes in this! Looking forward to seeing you again in the New Year,
John.
Sally rescued the handbag from Ernie’s sticky fingers and tucked it beside her in the chair – the feel of it against her hip was the next best thing to actually seeing him.
There were other presents to open and the dining-room floor was soon littered with paper, bits of string and ribbon as each one was admired and cooed over. John had given a bottle of lavender water to Mrs Finch, a powder compact to Cissy, and a pair of gloves to Anne. For Peggy there was a bottle of her favourite lily of the valley perfume. Each of the boys had at least a bob’s worth of sweets, which Peggy had to ration, afraid they wouldn’t eat the lunch which was already cooking in the kitchen and sending delicious smells all through the house.
Sally opened each gift, the tears blinding her. There was a beautiful pale lilac sweater from Peggy, woollen gloves from Anne, a deep red lipstick from Cissy, and a cosy dressing gown from Ron and Jim which matched the warm slippers from Mrs Finch. ‘I don’t know how to thank you all,’ she said in the lull after everything had been opened, ‘but this is the best Christmas I’ve ever ’ad, and I love you all for making it so special for me and Ernie.’
Peggy sat on the arm of the chair and gave her a hug. ‘It wouldn’t have been the same without you,’ she murmured.
They were interrupted by a furious banging on the front door, which was followed by a lengthy ring on the bell.
‘Who the hell’s that on Christmas morning?’ Jim said crossly. He stomped out of the room and everyone stilled, trying to make sense of the murmured conversation going on in the hall.
Sally dared to hope it might be John but, as Martin Black strode into the room, magnificently heroic in leather flying jacket and boots, she hardly felt any disappointment at all.
‘Anne, I had to come. I couldn’t leave things the way they were. I had to see you, talk to you, make you realise that I don’t care a damn for what my parents think. I want to marry you, and I won’t take no for an answer.’
Anne had gone quite pale, now the colour flooded into her face. ‘What are you doing here?’ she breathed. ‘You’re supposed to be on duty.’
‘The other chaps are covering for me,’ he replied impatiently. ‘I only have an hour, and we need to talk, Anne. Please?’
‘You’ll get into the most fearsome trouble,’ she said, the tears sparkling on her lashes. ‘Oh, Martin, what have you done?’
‘I’ve fallen in love,’ he said evenly. ‘And I don’t care about anything right this minute, but you.’ He fell to one knee, dug in the pocket of his flying jacket and held out a diamond ring. ‘Will you marry me, Anne? Will you make me the happiest man in England?’
Sally thought it was the most romantic thing she’d seen outside the cinema, and waited, almost as impatiently as Martin, for Anne’s answer.
Anne clearly didn’t have the same sense of romance as Sally. ‘Get up,’ she hissed, shooting a glance at the others and reddening further.
‘Not until you give me your answer.’
She shook her head and backed away from him. ‘Then, I’m sorry, Martin. The answer is no. I won’t be rushed into this.’
Sally could see by his expression that he was devastated by her turning him down, and she felt a deep pang of pity for him.
‘But you’ll think about it? You won’t just finish things between us? I couldn’t bear it if you did, Anne.’
Her stance softened and she smiled. ‘I’ll think about it, I promise,’ she murmured. ‘Now please get off your knee; you look very silly down there surrounded by wrapping paper.’
He suddenly seemed to realise they had an enthralled audience, that it was Christmas morning and he was probably making a complete ass of himself. He rose shamefacedly to his feet, clutching the peaked air-force officer’s hat under his arm.
‘I’m sorry for breaking in like this so early on Christmas morning,’ he said to the room in general. ‘But I had to see Anne. I can’t sleep, can’t eat – don’t have a sensible thought in my head.’
He took Anne’s hand and made her blush again as he kissed her fingers. ‘This very special, beautiful lady is the only one for me, and I’m determined that one day she will accept my ring and be my wife.’
‘Then you’ve got some talking to do – in private,’ said Peggy. ‘Come on you lot, you can help me in the kitchen. Alex should be here soon, so when he comes, Cissy, bring him straight in to me. We don’t want him seeing Martin when he’s not supposed to be here.’
‘Are we playing charades?’ Mrs Finch trilled. ‘How lovely. But what’s the play? I don’t recognise it.’
Peggy gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Jim, stop trying to look like an outraged father and help Mrs Finch out of her chair.’
‘Oh, dear,’ chirped Mrs Finch, as Jim carefully hoisted her to her feet. ‘Is the game over already?’
‘No, bless you,’ muttered Jim. ‘I’m thinking it’s only just started.’
The telephone rang and Peggy rushed to answer it. Her face lit up and she settled in for a long chat. It was her sister Doreen.
Sally gathered up her gifts and wheeled Ernie into the kitchen. She thought Martin was extremely dashing, just like Clark Gable whose photograph she’d seen in Cissy’s film magazines – and he and Anne made the perfect couple. Now Anne had decided to give him a second chance, the New Year looked brighter than ever.