A Christmas Promise Read online

  ‘I can’t say over the phone, but I’ll tell you when we go to lunch, so don’t be late.’

  ‘No, sir!’ Tilly laughed as she saluted the telephone before putting it on its cradle. And, having been informed in cloak-and-dagger terms that Janet was ‘seeing’ somebody, she couldn’t wait to get her morning duties finished and catch up with her best friend.

  At twelve fifty, she prepared to clear her desk. Everybody else had left the office and she was looking forward to getting a bite to eat and catch all the latest gossip, because it was obvious that Janet would be full of news after the couple of weeks without their seeing each other.

  ‘Oh, it’s gorgeous,’ Tilly said, splaying the fine blue silky material through her hands. ‘You’ll knock their eyes out.’

  ‘I wish I had something to go with it, though. I can’t wear dog tags with a strapless gown, now can I?’ Janet said, tilting her head to one side to get another view of the dress she had made.

  ‘You are such a dark horse, Janet. I never knew you could make dresses as good as this.’

  ‘Well, there wasn’t much else to do, with you working all the time. I had loads of time on my hands.’

  ‘And loads of material, by the looks of it …?’ Tilly left the question hanging in the air but Janet wasn’t biting.

  ‘I know a man who knows a man, that all,’ she said enigmatically.

  ‘Here, see what this looks like against your tan and your dress,’ Tilly said, going to the safe in her office and taking out the pendant her mother had bought her for her twenty-first birthday.

  ‘Oh, Tilly, I couldn’t!’ Janet gasped, taking the sapphire pendant without any compunction whatsoever. ‘I’ve always liked this,’ she said, removing her dog tags and replacing them with the pendant, and, pouting her lips, she admired her reflection in the mirror.

  ‘Oh, yes, this was made for this dress, don’t you think?’

  ‘I want it back as soon as the ball is over,’ Tilly warned, ‘and put your tags back on before you get into trouble.’

  ‘If you think I’m wearing them the night of the ball you’ve got another thing coming.’

  ‘On your own head be it,’ said Tilly, sensible as ever.

  ‘Oh, little bambina, what have you done to yourself?’

  ‘Carlo, I have cut my thumb,’ Alice cried as she stuck her bloodied thumb in the air.

  Carlo bent down to have a look. ‘Did you put it down the hole for the nasty ferret to nip?’ he asked, as he gently wiped the little smear of blood from the tip of Alice’s thumb, and she nodded, her bottom lip pouting. And even though she hadn’t been badly hurt, she knew she could run to Agnes or Barney, the land girls or Carlo, if ever she was in danger or distress.

  ‘Wotcha, Carlo,’ called Barney, who had settled on to the farm without any trouble whatsoever. ‘I’ve just caught a rabbit so Agnes can make us one of her lovely pies.’

  ‘Good show, Barney,’ Carlo laughed, as Mavis came up the path and cleaned her muddy wellies on the scraper near the door. Barney could feel his colour rise; he was fifteen years of age now and no longer a little boy, certainly old enough to have developed a soft spot for Mavis, the girl from Dagenham who teased him unmercifully.

  ‘Has she put ’er ’and down the rabbit hole again?’ called Mavis, and Barney only nodded, knowing if he spoke his colour would rise even more.

  ‘She been nipped by a ferret,’ Carlo called back. ‘Maybe you should take her to Agnes. She will know how to clean it up.’

  Then, ever so gently, he kissed Alice’s thumb and made her smile, and she said in her little tinkling voice, ‘All better, Carlo,’ and laughed, throwing her arms around his neck as he bent on one knee to help her. Turning to Barney, Alice took his hand, safe and happy in the knowledge she was well loved as she headed back to the farmhouse to show Agnes.

  ‘Did Carlo kiss it better, Alice?’

  Agnes smiled as she found a strip of clean material to wind around the child’s thumb, satisfied she had never been happier in her whole life. She had enjoyed her time at Olive’s house in Article Row and imagined she would never be happy anywhere else ever again – but as soon as Darnley and his odious sons relinquished their spurious hold on the farm, she took to farm life like she was born to it.

  She had laughed when she thought of the conversation she and Olive had engaged in on her last visit – ‘Of course,’ Olive had said, ‘that’s because she was born to it!’

  Agnes breathed in the smell of sunshine on ripening fields and closed her eyes. This was heaven on earth, she realised, and as the summer months wafted in on the breeze she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Even Dulcie had fallen in love with the place, although she was more interested in the social side of things, organising tea dances in the village hall as she grew rounder every day. But she was blooming, and May’s golden rays had brought a wonderful burnished colour to her skin that impressed David when he came to stay with his wife and children at weekends.

  ‘It were a shock when the land girls came,’ said Mrs Darnley. Her nomadic husband had gone to pastures new and she came to the farm to help on the land as well as enjoy the company. She kept them entertained with her stories when the day’s work was done. ‘They livened up the sleepy village with their city ways, and no mistake. I bet the village had never seen anything like it – especially when the servicemen came calling.’ Mrs Darnley laughed and went on: ‘They weren’t favourite with everybody, I’ll grant you. Some of the villagers thought they were fast, and when the city families began to arrive some of the villagers were up in arms, but I didn’t see them complain when they were paid ten and six per person per week … No, missus.’

  Agnes and the other land workers, including the land girls and Carlo, laughed now. Mrs Darnley was a lovely women, Agnes decided, not a bit like her scheming menfolk; she never spoke about the fate of her sons, so Agnes avoided bringing it up for fear it would upset her. ‘I saw the arrivals as a breath of fresh air. They brought life to a village that had not seen change for many years.’

  ‘I expect the farmers were pleased too,’ Agnes said, ‘especially when they were getting paid so well.’

  ‘Some have never been so rich,’ Mrs Darnley said, ‘what with the money off the government and their little perks on the side …’ She stopped momentarily, knowing she may have said too much, but Agnes urged her to carry on.

  ‘Well, it’s a bit o’ butter ’ere and a few sugar beets there … you can’t blame ‘em for a few little extras, this can be a tough old life.’

  ‘The children love the outdoors,’ said Agnes. ‘Alice has come on in leaps and bounds since she has been here, and Barney loves working on the farm.’ She lowered her voice. ‘He also likes being paid.’

  ‘Well, this part of the countryside needed new blood,’ said Mrs Darnley. ‘Everyone had known each other since birth before the war, and the place was too quiet.’

  ‘That changed when our brood moved in,’ said Agnes, who considered Barney, Dulcie and the rest her ‘city family’, now.

  ‘And ever so boring on a Sunday after church. Quiet as the grave, it were.’ Mrs Darnley laughed. ‘Then suddenly there was all these women moving into barrage-balloon sites – we’d never seen anything like it. It were so exciting, especially when the army base moved in too. Those dances in the village hall … the farm girls had the time of their lives.’

  Agnes smiled. She couldn’t imagine a more idyllic lifestyle and out here in the Surrey countryside. It was hard to believe there was such a thing as a war raging.

  ‘I danced for joy alone in the low fields when Italy surrendered to the Allies,’ Carlo said, joining in now, ‘although I must admit I cried five days later, when the Germans massacred my countrymen in Cephalonia.’

  ‘What will you do afterwards … when it’s all over, Carlo?’ Agnes asked.

  ‘I would like to stay on here, it is all I have now.’ He sighed now and stopped whittling the piece of wood that would become another animal
for the farm he was making for Alice. ‘There is nothing there for me now in my homeland.’ His voice was low, hardly above a whisper. ‘I had a wife and children back in Italy. They were killed when the Allies landed in the toe of my country.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a family back in Italy, Carlo.’ Agnes’s heart went out to him. How lonely it must have been for him not to be able to share such tragic news before now.

  ‘I am a simple olive grower trying to make a living for my family, then war broke out … ’ He stopped, and Agnes didn’t press him for any more information. He would tell her in his own good time.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  5 June 1944

  ‘Will I do?’ Janet asked, looking stunning and showing a fabulous figure in the tightly fitted bodice. The skirt of the ball dress skimmed her slim hips and sailed to her feet in an ocean of blue georgette silk, at her throat she wore the pendant that Tilly had lent her, and to finish the whole ensemble she carried a huge silver clutch bag under her arm, which Tilly knew would probably be lost before the end of the night, if Tilly wasn’t watchful.

  ‘What have you done with your dog tags, Janet?’ Tilly asked her friend, noticing how stunning Janet looked with bare shoulders and just the sapphire pendant.

  ‘I’ve left them behind in our billet, those just won’t do this evening, I’m afraid – big clumsy things.’ Janet carefully adjusted the pendant so that it perfectly showcased her ample bosom.

  ‘Here, put mine in your handbag, Janet. They’re far too cumbersome for my piddling little bag.’ Tilly too had removed her dog tags and placed them in Janet’s open clutch. As she did so, she remembered Drew’s ring. She’d never been without it since he gave it to her all that time ago, and even now she could not bring herself to part with it, so she slipped it off the chain that held her dog tags and onto her finger before putting the tags back into Janet’s capacious bag, saying, ‘I’ll chance it, too.’

  The ball had been put back as there had been a feverish amount of work to be done of late, and Tilly knew it was going to be a night to remember. She could feel it in her bones. As she checked her lipstick, the only worry on her mind was wondering if her make-up would be ruined in the heat.

  ‘You look wonderful, Janet. You’ll be fighting them off all night!’ Tilly said, patting powder onto the shiny bits of her face and feeling a little green-eyed that her friend never seemed to glow like she did. Janet became more golden by the day and looked fantastic in that dress.

  ‘No false modesty here, my dear. You look stunning too and you know it!’ replied Janet as they sashayed into the opulent ballroom.

  ‘Give over!’ Tilly said, applying a dazzling smile and taking in the lavish room with one sweep of her eyes. The night was stiflingly hot, and Tilly and Janet edged nearer to the bar to get a cold drinks as the smoke from cigarettes and cigars began to make Tilly’s throat itch.

  ‘Oh, hunk at four o’clock,’ Janet said.

  Tilly slowly turned her head in the direction of an air force officer giving her friend the glad eye. ‘Go for it, you’re only young once.’ Tilly laughed, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she too would be chatted up – not that she was vain, it was just that out here men vastly outnumbered the women.

  She’d received a bundle of letters from her mum, telling her that the ‘little blitz’ that had begun in January had finished in April, and up to the date of writing the letter there had been no more raids, for which Tilly was extremely grateful, knowing today England would probably be empty of its military presence. She hadn’t replied to her mother yet; she was thinking about what she would say if and when she did. She had been privy to some very top secret communications and knew that the men standing around here looking so relaxed and having a laugh would probably be on high alert as the offensive was forthcoming – tomorrow. Tilly knew, even if they didn’t, that some of the men would be scrambled this evening to make sure that everything was in place for the big push in the morning. She smiled as she watched Janet make a beeline for the officer at the far end of the room.

  ‘Hey, Coleman, are you comin’ with us tomorrow?’ an American soldier called across the room.

  Unconsciously, Tilly turned her head, not wanting to eavesdrop, but unable to resist. Tilly knew that the tide of war would turn completely after tomorrow and desperately hoped that the end would be in sight. She turned away from the officer, who was trying to make himself heard above the bar’s din, and her heart skipped a beat as she heard a familiar American male voice call back, ‘You bet ya; wouldn’t miss this for anything.’ It was the voice she loved best in all the world and one she never hoped to hear again.

  But Tilly didn’t have a chance to see where the voice was coming from before a cocky young RAF pilot approached her.

  ‘Well, hello there, how about a dance?’

  *

  The narrow road beside the farm was becoming clogged with an endless stream of military traffic and nothing or nobody could move in or out of the village for trucks. Barney watched with breathless fascination as Sherman tanks noisily negotiated the cobbled streets. He wished he had been old enough to go with the soldiers who now waved to him as convoys of dispatch riders roared on motorbikes right through the village.

  Agnes, whose heart filled with pride and admiration, still limited little Alice to watching from behind the farm gate, knowing the lanes were perilous for man and beast, and flinched as tanks crunched indiscriminately through narrow lanes into gateposts and gable ends.

  ‘Are you trying to widen the lanes all by yourselves?’ she asked as she watched the huge rolling tanks plunder by.

  The land-army girls were nearly crushed when a convoy of armoured vehicles swept away the protecting wall beside them and the yells of, ‘Be careful, you clumsy buggers!’ could be heard from the farmhouse as Agnes, who had gone inside, rushed out again to see what had happened.

  When Barney came rushing into the farmhouse a short while later, he dragged Agnes so roughly by the arm that she was sure something terrible had happened and she was aghast to see an ammunition dump cloaked in leafy camouflage close to the farmhouse.

  ‘Hi, honey,’ called an American soldier from the back of his truck when she and Barney were on their way back to the farm. Agnes ignored them, thinking them very uncouth, but Barney wasn’t so unfriendly when one of the soldiers called to him: ‘D’ya want some gum, chum?’ Barney was over the gate and following the truck in an instant, as Agnes called him to get back. Barney appeared not to hear a word; because of the noise of the engines, he later told Agnes, with a mouthful of delicious chewing gum.

  ‘And you’d better not stick that gum on the bedpost, my lad.’ Agnes said, annoyed.

  However, the following day, Barney could be seen standing little Alice on the wide rung of the farm gate beside the land girls, who were waving enthusiastically as the huge tanks rolled down the lane and through the village towards their destination, France.

  ‘Give ’em hell!’ shouted Mavis, encouraging a raised eyebrow from some of the village men.

  ‘Can I come with you, mister?’ Barney shouted, and was rewarded with a salute from the American GI riding on the back of a truck, who then threw handfuls of coins from his pockets.

  ‘Here, son,’ the GI shouted. ‘Spend those for me!’

  ‘You bet, mister!’ Barney called as he and Alice scrambled down and picked up the discarded coins as the trucks left the lane. Then Barney, his eyes wide and his teeth showing white against his healthy complexion called, ‘Here, there’s two bob coins in with this lot!’

  Agnes laughed; she had never seen Barney so excited before.

  ‘Here, Barney, mind how you go there. Stay out of the way, in case there’s any more trucks!’

  ‘I’ve dodged more’n army trucks in my day,’ he said, laughing, and stuffed the coins into his trouser pockets.

  ‘Hark at you.’ Agnes laughed. She had never been so happy in her whole life. And if she stopped and thought about it, she would be very sorry when B
arney and little Alice went back to London. She had loved having the kids here.

  Drew was speechless as he saw Tilly across the crowded ballroom. His heart seemed to be trying to escape from his chest as he saw her deep in conversation with a fly-boy who didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer. His breath caught in the back of his throat. She looked stunning.

  He watched as the officer, getting a bit too close for comfort, put his hand onto the wall, practically pinning Tilly against it, and Drew could feel a red mist descend, making everything around him disappear – the only people in the room now were him, Tilly and that creep who was hitting on her now. Drew felt the room grow hot and he slackened his tie a little, knowing the guy who got Tilly was the luckiest son-of-a-gun in the whole world.

  Tilly caught sight of Drew at exactly the same moment as he saw her and the glass she was holding slipped through her fingers.

  ‘Whoops-a-daisy, butterfingers,’ said the RAF officer who had been smiling at Tilly every time his girl’s back was turned. Now she had gone to the ladies’, he was over like a shot. But she wasn’t listening to him; her eyes were fixed on Drew watching her from the other side of the room.

  Drew wondered if she was with this jerk, and then breathed a sigh of relief when his girl came back from the john and put her arm around him in a way that clearly said, ‘Leave off my man.’

  ‘Catch you later,’ said the officer, as his girl dragged him over to the dance floor where a smoochy Frank Sinatra tune was being sung, couples moved in waves around the dance floor.

  Tilly’s barely registered what had happened as her heart did a triple flip and she could hear nothing, see nothing, except Drew. A million brilliant fireworks exploded inside her, this was a magical moment in time when there was nobody else in the room but the two of them.

  ‘Are you OK, honey?’ a male voice beside her asked, but Tilly could not answer. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was focus on the one man she had loved since the moment she set eyes on him all those years ago.