A Christmas Promise Page 9

  ‘Go on, get your things and give Callum our love.’

  ‘I will Olive, and thank you.’ Sally was hurried away by the flick of Olive’s hand, knowing she did not like fuss, especially when it was aimed in her direction. Then, with her hand on the door handle, Sally said quietly, ‘Did you manage to have that word with Tilly about Drew?’

  ‘Later,’ Olive said vaguely, as a frisson of guilt suffused her face. ‘I haven’t had a chance to speak to her; everything has been so rushed today. Maybe later.’ Or maybe not at all.

  There was quite a gathering on that afternoon in Olive’s front room. David, Dulcie’s husband, was in deep conversation with Audrey Windle and her husband, vicar of the parish, about the turn they expected the war to take if the Allies were to secure victory in Europe.

  Nancy, who was sitting with them at the table now, had come empty-handed, Audrey noticed, and did not contribute to the conversation or the contents of the table, although by now everybody was used to Nancy’s parsimonious nature, and Audrey suspected that Nancy had imbibed one too many sherries, hence her glassy-eyed stare. Anybody would think she was the only one who was subject to rationing, and Audrey was horrified to see Nancy folding sandwiches into a sheet of greaseproof paper in full view of the whole room.

  Smartly removing the plate, Audrey said on Olive’s behalf, ‘Have a sandwich, Rick, there’s plenty.’ She gave Nancy a disapproving glare but to no avail. Nancy seemingly couldn’t care less what Audrey thought as she slipped the package into her bag.

  ‘I don’t mind if I do,’ Rick laughed, having seen the whole thing, and taking a sandwich he made the vicar’s wife blush when he winked at her.

  ‘Tilly will be down soon,’ Olive said from the hallway, hearing her daughter close her bedroom door. ‘I think she’s found the day a little overwhelming.’ And who wouldn’t, thought Olive, coming home after being away for months and nearly the whole Row here?

  ‘I’ll go and have a word with our Dulcie while I’m waiting,’ Rick said good-naturedly, craning his neck to see if Tilly was coming down.

  ‘She won’t be long, I expect.’ Olive knew her daughter was stunned by all the attention she had received today. It had been a wonderful surprise when her friends from the ATS had turned up, and now they were with Dulcie, who loved a get-together and a good old singsong around the piano. They were having a fine old time belting out the latest Andrews Sisters song.

  Dulcie, whose allure was admired by everybody as she sang, gave her adoring husband a little wave as she told him not to sit under the apple tree with anyone else but her, looking the part with her high curls hiding a tiny hat, and holding a large clutch bag with such panache while tapping her impossibly high, wooden heels. Olive, bopping along in time with the music, had seen shoes just like that worn by an American film star on the pictures, and to Olive’s total admiration Dulcie completed her immaculate ensemble with American Tan nylons. Olive knew she would never favour wearing clothes like that, even if she did have the chance, but it would be nice to dress up for once, and she did admire Dulcie’s style.

  ‘Doesn’t Dulcie look like a film star?’ Agnes’s voice had a faraway tone and Olive suspected she was feeling a little jaded, too.

  ‘There’s a price to pay for looking like that,’ Olive said, coming down to earth, knowing those dishes wouldn’t wash themselves.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t mind, just for once,’ Agnes said innocently, tapping her foot in time with the music, lost in a world of her own.

  In the kitchen, elbow deep in dish water, Olive was glad to take a breather and imagined what it would be like if she and Archie had the house to themselves for once. Her hips swayed to the music. She knew he liked her company and she liked his. But as time passed she realised she wanted more from Archie. She worried about him and looked forward to seeing him every day.

  Humming along to the music, she felt the couple of sweet sherries she’d drunk earlier, to calm her nerves, were certainly doing the trick right now. Then, realising that she was always the one stuck in the kitchen preparing or washing up, she decided to leave the dishes until later – after all, it was patriotic to save water, too.

  Her heart soared when she noticed Archie had returned and Olive knew his eyes were following her without even having to look at him. The day just kept getting better.

  ‘Fancy a dance, Archie?’ Olive asked, feeling reckless now and recalling what Nancy had said the other day about it being her celebration, too.

  ‘Not for me, thank you.’ Archie’s voice sounded stiff, almost regimental, and Olive wondered momentarily what was wrong with him but she didn’t get the chance to dwell too deeply when Rick pulled her into the middle of the dance floor and she enjoyed a sedate jive with him, showing Archie that she could still keep up with the best of them when it came to dancing.

  ‘Olive, may I have a word with you in private?’ Archie asked as she returned, breathless, to the place where he was standing.

  ‘You sound very formal, Archie.’ Olive laughed. ‘Come this way,’ and she led him to the kitchen.

  When they were both inside Archie closed the door behind him and, looking very grave, he said quietly, ‘When I got home this was waiting for me.’ He held a telegram in his large capable hands and suddenly Olive felt the colour go out of her day.

  ‘It’s Barney’s father,’ Archie said. ‘He’s been killed in action.’

  ‘How awful, Archie. Does Barney know?’ Olive was surprised when she put her hand on Archie’s arm and he quickly pulled away. ‘Is there anything I can do to help, Archie?’ She felt suddenly as if she was on the outside looking into Archie’s life instead of being a part of it. And it was a feeling she wasn’t truly comfortable with. He looked so distant.

  ‘I will tell him tonight,’ Archie said quietly. And as Olive watched him she wondered if she had done something wrong. The way he had snatched his hand back was not his usual reaction from towards her.

  ‘He hasn’t come back from the park yet,’ Olive said in a low voice, knowing that Barney was going to be so upset when he got the news. ‘Shall I ask everyone to leave the party?’

  ‘Why should you abandon the party? It is not your concern.’ Archie could not have hurt her any more if he had insulted her, but his remark had been so sudden and so unexpected that she felt her throat constrict and she tried to swallow the lump that was choking her and stinging her eyes.

  ‘I will let you get on with your merry-making,’ Archie said flatly, and turned to go, knowing he had hurt Olive, and he hated himself for it. If anybody had told him this morning that his whole world would be turned upside down today by the woman he had so admired and respected he never would have believed it.

  ‘Fine,’ Olive said quietly as he walked away. ‘Let me know if you need me.’

  But Archie didn’t reply. Instead he walked up the street, hands in pockets, looking like a man defeated.

  Archie felt that he no longer knew Olive. As he waited in his front room for Barney’s return from the park, surrounded by the things his late wife had acquired during their married life, he had time to mull things over.

  It didn’t seem to bother Olive in the least that the pendant she had bought for her daughter’s most special birthday might have been stolen, nor that she so openly admired Dulcie’s expensively loud American clothing, which no doubt had been purchased from some oily spiv, who knew a man who could get things that no self-respecting woman could afford these days. How could he ever look his superiors in the eye, knowing the woman he loved might go behind his back and put his whole career in jeopardy? She had looked so disappointed when he refused her offer of help, but he had to be with Barney and, not only that, he had to think hard about his ongoing friendship with Olive now. This wasn’t just a matter of buying something for Tilly’s birthday – the reason he hadn’t made a fuss – but something of national importance. If every Tom, Dick and Harry flouted the rules and bought things they had no right to buy, the whole country would be in decline. However
, he had bigger things on his mind right now: how was he going to tell Barney that he was now an orphan?

  Returning to the front room, Olive quelled her disappointment when she saw Dulcie and her brother singing an old song their mother used to like. She listened as their voices soared with the passion befitting the memory of their mother.

  Olive knew this was the first time Dulcie had been to a party since her mother had been so tragically killed at Bethnal Green, and though she was no longer in the mood for a good old knees-up and a singsong she couldn’t spoil Tilly’s party with sad news of a man they didn’t even know. One thing she did know, though: she would take care of Barney the same way she always had and she would make it her business to let him know that nothing had changed, he was always welcome here. She was also pleased that Dulcie was putting on a good show of enjoying herself. Olive sighed. Damn this war.

  Tilly knew that, like Dulcie, Rick loved a good old singsong and still found it hard to believe sometimes that such an extrovert fellow wanted to go out with her.

  ‘Hey, d’you remember when I first met you, Tilly?’ Rick called, entertaining the whole room. ‘You were such a little mouse of a thing.’

  ‘I’ll have you know there is no little mouse in me these days, Rick Simmonds!’ Tilly laughed. ‘This war has done some strange things to people.’

  ‘I know, I saw a fella with two heads the other day and he said he’d lost some body!’ The room erupted in laughter and Tilly shook her head. Rick, like his sisters, loved the limelight, and once it was on him he was away, playing to the audience.

  ‘You should be on the stage with our Edith, you should,’ Dulcie called from the other side of the room, and again everybody laughed.

  If courting Rick was the worst thing Tilly could do, Olive would be happy. After all, Rick, like his sister, was very generous with the offerings he brought to the party, which she suspected might not have been bought legally but – to her shame – she could not possibly refuse, with rationing at its most frugal now since the the war started.

  David too had brought a few bottles of what he called ‘the good stuff’, and he and Rick had sampled it earlier in the back room where it was a little bit quieter.

  ‘Here, eat some of these,’ Olive had ordered Rick, pushing a plate of sandwiches towards him, knowing that Tilly wouldn’t be too pleased if her sweetheart was spark out on the back-room sofa when she came downstairs.

  ‘I don’t mind if I do, Mrs R.’ Rick laughed, taking a sandwich, while, in the other hand, he held a glass of something alcoholic, which later he told them he’d managed to bag from the landlord of the East End pub he’d frequented before he joined the army.

  ‘Oh, he could sell sand to the Arabs with that charm.’ Agnes laughed, knowing the booze was going down quite nicely by the look of it. Olive was glad he enjoyed himself. Having been given a clean bill of health, he was rejoining his regiment tomorrow and it was anybody’s guess where he would end up after that, albeit in a desk job.

  But she wouldn’t dwell on that; instead she concentrated on making sure the guests were enjoying themselves, glad all her girls were together again. Tilly was relaxed, and happy to share the hilarious, hair-raising antics of her time in the ATS with her three pals, who were having a riotous time now, by the looks of it. It was nice that the young ones could let their hair down now and again, thought Olive, and not feel as if they’d got the worries of the world upon their shoulders, and looking around the front room now she knew that these young ones did carry big responsibilities.

  ‘Let’s all sing “Happy Birthday”!’ Rick called over the gentle hubbub of conversation just as Olive brought in the birthday cake she had made with the rations she had been saving especially for this occasion, resplendent on the silver stand borrowed from her good friend Audrey. Olive’s heart soared with pride when she watched Tilly’s eyes widen.

  ‘Oh, Mum, what a wonderful cake. You have outdone yourself this time!’ Tilly clapped her hands with glee. ‘It’s been so long since I tasted birthday cake.’

  ‘It’s not one of those cardboard covers over a pancake effort, is it?’ Nancy asked.

  ‘No, Nancy, it is not,’ Olive answered, giving their neighbour a hard stare for ruining the moment; she had stayed up long after everybody had gone to bed to make this cake. Having managed to squirrel away enough dried fruit when it was available, she had bartered with neighbours who were only too pleased to swap a little sugar or margarine for a chicken egg.

  As she had not been expecting Tilly home, it hadn’t been ready for her arrival, but everything turned out in the end, except she could not find birthday candles for love nor money, although a compromise had thankfully been reached.

  In the centre of the cake, thinly iced, as sugar was so scarce, there was only one candle. Well, it wasn’t a candle exactly, but a taper such as she lit the oven with. Olive had cut it down to cake candle size after she had scraped the wax off to make a wick. But the illusion was perfect and, now, as she proudly held the cake aloft, the house reverberated to voices ordering Tilly to make a wish.

  I wish I was Mrs Drew Coleman. Tilly silently wished, her eyes closed, and then, looking at Rick, who was smiling at her, she immediately regretted her wish. She must put Drew behind her once and for all.

  ‘What did you wish for?’ Janet, one of her ATS pals, asked, but Tilly wasn’t letting on.

  ‘It’s a secret,’ she said enigmatically before blowing out the candle to a rousing chorus of, ‘Hip-hip … hooray!’ Olive couldn’t join in as the lump in her throat wouldn’t allow it, although she could not recall a prouder moment, and after saying a little prayer of thanks for her daughter’s safe home-coming, she quickly busied herself getting plates for the cake.

  ‘Oh, Mum, you have given me the best day,’ Tilly said, tears running down her cheeks. Then, impulsively, she and her mother embraced and burst into another deluge of happy tears.

  ‘Oh, would you look at us,’ Olive said through her tears as she scrabbled up her sleeve for her handkerchief. Her tears weren’t necessarily for her daughter’s birthday, but they were for Tilly. Quickly, she dried her eyes before offering to cut everybody a slice of cake.

  It was the least she could do to take her mind off the terrible thing she had done to her only darling daughter. And if she was any kind of a mother she knew she would confess to knowing that Drew had been in London all this time. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t make her daughter’s twenty-first birthday memorable because of a lie!

  ‘Having a good time, darling?’ David asked, glad to see the old familiar smile light up Dulcie’s face. She had been so forlorn since her mother died and she needed something like this to cheer her up. He had approached his specialist in Harley Street to see if anything could be done in ‘the old wedding-tackle department’, as his surgeon had called it. The doctor had sounded hopeful when he said there was a lot of research being done regarding war wounds. He also said there was an operation that David might like to try and, looking at his beautiful wife now, David knew that he would stop at nothing to make her happy.

  ‘I certainly am, thank you, my love.’ Dulcie smiled to her husband, who sat on the sofa behind the door while she stood by the fireplace, her foot tapping to the music on the wireless. She was glad that Agnes had offered to take the two babies upstairs for a little nap as things were a bit smoky and very noisy down here. Giving David a smile reserved only for him, she knew her days of dancing the night away and fighting off the GIs in the West End were just a happy memory. She had something more enduring now, and there was only one thing that would make her more content than she ever thought possible and that was if she and David could be like any other married couple. She longed for the nearness that only a loving relationship with such a wonderful man could bring.

  ‘Penny for them?’ Tilly asked Dulcie.

  ‘Oh, it’s our Edith.’ Dulcie didn’t want to go into detail about her and David. ‘Playing up again, as per!’

  ‘Married to some big
impresario from the theatre, I heard.’ Tilly smiled, knowing this was a rumour spread around by Dulcie after she found out her sister was pregnant by her ex-boyfriend, an American fighter pilot called Wilder, who had been killed on a flying mission.

  Dulcie looked a little shame-faced and said in hushed tones, ‘You won’t say anything, will you, Tilly, but I could hardly tell someone as straight and above board as your mum that my only sister was one of those unmarried mothers.’

  Dulcie, Tilly noticed, said all of this without a hint of irony, although her own baby had been born ‘early’.

  ‘I’d have been the talk of Article Row if Nancy ever got wind of our Edith having a baby out of wedlock! And now the cheeky mare is talking about travelling abroad and singing for the troops with that ENSA.’

  ‘Oh, we had them visit when we were—’ Tilly stopped suddenly, knowing she could not divulge where she had been posted. ‘Never mind,’ she said, and then changed the subject back to Edith.

  ‘What is she going to do with her son?’ Tilly knew that even though they had their spats, the Simmonds family were quite close when their backs were against the wall.

  ‘That’s what I wanted to know,’ Dulcie said, patting her platinum-blonde curls, ‘but if I’m honest I know exactly what’s going to happen to little Anthony.’ She smiled now in that knowing way she had, which seemed to imply whoever she was talking to could read her mind. Tilly looked puzzled and Dulcie leaned forward. ‘We’ll take care of him, same as we’ve always done – I’ve put the feelers out with David to see how the land lies adoption-wise …’

  ‘You want to adopt your sister’s child?’ Tilly was astounded at the idea.

  ‘It’s more common than you think, Tilly,’ Dulcie said knowledgeably. ‘Well, we have had him almost since the day he was born. I sometimes imagine I’ve got twins. I love Anthony the same as I love Hope – they come as a little team – they’ve even got their own way of talking to each other and they understand every word …’ Dulcie threw her head back and roared with laughter at the thought. ‘I’m telling you, they make my day complete, the pair of them.’