A Christmas Promise (20 page)

‘But you soon picked it up didn’t you, Agnes?’ Carlo said supportively, and Olive smiled, wondering if love was everywhere this year, fleetingly praying that everyone in Article Row had survived the raid.

‘I don’t know what I’d have done without these lot,’ Agnes said as she sat back, satisfied after her huge dinner, which Olive had helped to make even though she had been told to put her feet up. ‘When the Darnleys got shirty, the girls warned them off with pitchforks – have you seen pitchforks, Barney? They look lethal – I wouldn’t fight one.’

Everybody around the table laughed. This was the best Christmas ever, they all agreed.

‘I was amazed when she tried to milk the bull,’ Carlo laughed, and winked at Agnes when she blushed.

‘Not half as surprised as the bull, I imagine!’ she said.

David had his arm around Dulcie, the children had been knocked out by the country air and were having an afternoon nap, and hilarity at the table was the order of the day when Agnes went on to tell them about her first few weeks on the farm. The laughter went on so long that Olive had tears running down her cheeks.

‘Oh, my word,’ she cried, searching up her sleeve. ‘I’ve lost my hanky now.’

‘Here,’ said Tilly, still laughing, ‘I’ll get one out of your bag. You always have a spare.’

‘Thank you, darling,’ Olive smiled as Tilly went to fetch the handkerchief. She came back into the room holding two envelopes. Olive’s laughter died on her lips as she saw the letters that Tilly had found. With a sinking heart, Olive knew that the game was up.

‘The date mark on this envelope says 1942,’ Tilly said, looking at her name written in the handwriting she knew so well. Her face was ashen as she held up the letters. ‘And this one was posted just weeks ago.’

‘I was going to tell you, darling,’ Olive said quickly. ‘Just let me explain —’

But Tilly had fled from the room, and Olive, taking in the shocked and expectant faces of her friends and family, knew that the perfect Christmas had just taken a turn for the worse.

‘How could you, Mum?’ Tilly railed as she stuffed her things into a bag. She didn’t intend to stay here a moment longer than she had to.

‘Tilly, it isn’t like that, I had to do it!’ Olive could see that Tilly’s anger, combined with shock and blame, was forcing her to do and say things she never would have thought possible before. But Olive also knew her daughter was right: she should have told Tilly straight away that Drew had been injured, instead of listening to his father, whom she knew now, for very different reasons, wanted his son away from ‘distractions’ in London.

For wasn’t that what Mr Coleman had implied? That her daughter was being ‘a distraction’? Olive was sure about that now. And she had gone along with keeping the two young sweethearts apart, knowing her daughter might have gone back to America with Drew if she had known he was in England … in London. She would have been thousands of miles away, and she might never have seen her again.

‘Tilly, please don’t go,’ Olive begged. ‘Stay here and we can talk about it.’

‘Talk about it? You are so happy with Archie, and I was happy for you.’ Tilly’s face was deathly-pale and her lips were dry, sticking together as she spoke. ‘I wanted you to be safe and secure and I knew you would be with Archie. He is the best thing that has ever come into your life – just like Drew was the best thing for me.’ Her words were low now, full of anguish as the two women stood outside the farmhouse, too angry to feel the freezing air swirling around them.

‘If I’d known—’

‘If you’d known what?’ Tilly asked, trying so hard to understand why her mother would stand in her way like she did.

‘If I’d known he was going to be in London for so long I would have told you,’ Olive conceded, ‘but I didn’t even know he was here until Sally—’

‘Sally? What has she got to do with all of this’

‘She nursed him,’ Olive said simply, watching Tilly’s expression turn from anger to confusion, and Olive knew that now she was going to have to tell her daughter everything.

‘After Drew returned to America for his mother’s funeral, he was involved in an accident. A truck hit him as he was getting into his car – his back was broken and …’ Olive could not go on. Tilly’s face was so pale now she looked as if she was going to pass out, and Olive saw her legs buckle. This was the most difficult thing she had ever had to do. ‘They thought he was going to die, but after a few months he was brought over to England for life-saving surgery, Sally treated him at her hospital …’

‘And neither of you thought to inform me, Mum?’

‘You can’t blame Sally, Tilly. She was in a difficult position, and I didn’t know at first, but Drew’s father asked me to keep it from you,’ Olive said, her arms crossed over her body as if to defend herself.

‘Drew’s father? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Drew’s father has always tried to control him, just like you’ve always tried to control me!’ Tilly’s words of accusation hit Olive like a slap in the face; spoken out loud, it did sound bad, she had to admit that now, but …

‘It wasn’t like that. Drew didn’t  … ’ She couldn’t bring herself to tell her daughter that the man she loved so desperately had asked for his injuries to be kept a secret from Tilly. Blaming Drew would have been cowardly, Olive realised.

‘He would have wanted me to know, don’t you see?’ Tilly tried to get it through to her mother that she and Drew were closer than she would ever know. ‘He and I were going to be married as soon as I was twenty-one.’ Tilly’s anger rose and almost choked her. ‘We made our vows in the church – we promised to be together for ever, and we meant it, Mother!’ Tilly said the word ‘Mother’ like it was an insult, and Olive flinched. She never thought anything could come between her and Tilly.

‘Tilly, I so wanted to tell you—’ Olive began, but Tilly wasn’t interested in her mother’s explanation.

‘So why didn’t you? We are two grown women, I’m serving my country and you are nice and cosy with Archie. You’ve got what you wanted and you still want to keep me in my place.’ It was a low blow, Tilly knew, and somewhere in the coldness of her heart there was a place that would rear up and remind her of her words again, but now she was far too angry at this devastating revelation to think about it.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? I had a right to know. I had a right to make my own decisions without having to answer to you in everything – which I always have done. You kept me away from Drew because you’re selfish and only think about what you want, not what’s right for me. You’re selfish and cruel.’

Tilly’s words pierced Olive’s heart like a knife. Not because Tilly’s words were said in anger, but because, deep down, Olive knew that what Tilly had said was true. She had thought up until today that she still had a right to say how her daughter conducted her own life. Olive hadn’t really put Tilly first – she’d believed she was, but in reality, Olive was so frightened of losing Tilly that she had lost sight of what really mattered: her daughter’s happiness.

‘As soon as the trains are back on tomorrow, I am going back to London,’ Tilly said.

‘Oh, Tilly, please don’t go, don’t leave under a cloud, anything could—’

‘Yes, Mother, anything could happen – to either of us. But I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to forgive you for what you’ve done to us.’

‘Please, Tilly, don’t break my heart this way,’ ‘Olive said. ‘I know I’ve done wrong, I see that now, but I thought I was doing what was right.’

‘No, Mother, I’m going and there’s not a single thing you can do to stop me.’

‘Then let Archie drive you,’ Olive said, desperately.

‘I have a travel warrant,’ Tilly said flatly. ‘The army look after us very well.’

Even if I don’t, Olive thought sadly, knowing that she had always prided herself on being a good mother and realising now that she wasn’t. It just goes to show how wrong one can be, she thought.

The following morning, Tilly was up before the weak and watery sun came out, and so too was Olive. Janet made her excuses and left the front room when Olive came in, but, before she and Tilly had time to say anything, there was a heavy knock on the farmhouse door. Moments later, Agnes came into the front room, an official-looking envelope in her hand. Janet followed her back in. Olive paled visibly.

‘Tilly and Janet, it’s for both of you,’ Agnes said, handing the girls the telegram. ‘The boy wants to know if there is a reply.’

The two girls looked at each other. They had left their forwarding address with the CO and they silently acknowledged the official Ministry of Defence telegram. A shard of fear stabbed at Olive’s heart. Tilly couldn’t leave like this. It was too soon. It was Christmas! But everybody knew the war didn’t stop for Christmas. When she thought about those who were missing now – George, Ted, Callum, Drew – all the young men who had gone and some would never come back … And what of the young women? They died too.

Tilly’s shoulders slumped now and she looked defeated already as she told Janet in a dull voice, ‘It says, “Report for orders 12.00 hours, 27 December 1943.” ’

‘We’d better get our skates on,’ Janet said, already halfway out of the room, aware that what had been such a wonderful Christmas had turned into a nightmare for Tilly and her mum.

‘Will you write?’ Olive asked as they piled their kitbags into Archie’s car. Olive was staying on at the farm with Agnes and Dulcie. ‘I’ll write every day, let you know how things are, keep you up to date with … everything.’

‘That ship has already sailed, Mum,’ Tilly said in a low voice. ‘We’ll leave it for a while.’ And with the merest flick of her hand, she turned and walked to the car, without giving her mother a hug or even a light peck on the cheek. As the car drove through the farm gates and down the lane, though Olive was still waving, Tilly didn’t look back and she realised her daughter wanted to hurt her as much as she had been hurt herself. And she’d succeeded.

‘Please stay safe, my darling,’ Olive whispered, bitter tears of regret stinging her eyes. ‘God bless you.’

After breakfast, Agnes took Barney and Alice out to show them around the farm, while Olive and Dulcie had a natter and tried to put the world to rights. The younger children hadn’t heard the rumpus last night and the women knew they had suffered enough conflict without adding any more to their little lives.

‘See this tree,’ Agnes said, patting a tall oak that stood in the middle of a field of sainfoin, a valuable crop for feeding the sheep. ‘Darnley’s wife told me that my father planted this tree the day I was born, so it is exactly the same age as me.’

‘Wow,’ Barney said. ‘It looks much older than you, Agnes. Can I climb up it?’

‘Not in those shoes. Olive would have my head on a plate.’

‘I haven’t got any others,’ Barney answered, and then Agnes had an idea.

‘I think there is a spare pair of wellingtons under the stairs,’ she said. ‘They belonged to Jake Darnley but he doesn’t need them where he is.’

‘Why,’ asked Barney ‘where is he?’ Barney loved the freedom of the countryside already.

‘Never you mind where he is,’ Agnes answered. ‘Little children have big ears, you’ll find out if you keep them open.’

‘I’m not a little child,’ Barney said. ‘I’m fifteen now.’

‘As much as that?’ Agnes laughed. She loved having her extended family around her.

Moments later, she heard voices coming from over by the gate and Barney went to explore. In no time at all he was back and his face was red as he had been running.

‘Agnes, come quick! You have to come and see this!’ Barney’s voice rang across the field and Agnes, her heart beating wildly, took Alice’s hand. Something had happened and it didn’t sound good if Barney’s excited commotion was anything to go by.

‘Barney, what’s happened?’ Agnes called but Barney didn’t answer. When she got within sight of the gate, Agnes was shocked to see Mrs Jackson and her two daughters – thirteen-year-old Sonia and fifteen-year-old Marie – standing at the gate.

‘Mrs Jackson, how nice of you to visit. How did you get here? There are no trains running this far.’

‘I know that now, gel,’ said Mrs Jackson, who might have been slight of build, thought Agnes, but there was none so fierce in the way she barged through the farmhouse gate.

‘There’s bombs dropping all over London and, as you were my only son’s intended, I feel it is your duty to give us shelter since our block of flats was damaged in the bombings!’ The speed at which she delivered her little speech was breathtaking and Agnes only caught half of it.

‘You’ve been bombed out? Is anybody hurt?’ Agnes turned now to Marie and Sonia, who stood in a kind of dumb silence, and even though they were head and shoulders taller than their mother they looked as if they were shielded from the outside world by her diminutive presence.

‘You don’t need to know the details. Suffice to say, we can’t live there any longer, and you have all of this.’ It sounded like an accusation coming from Ted’s mother, who had done everything in her power to split up Agnes and Ted from the moment they were introduced. However, Agnes could never find it in her heart to turn anybody away, no matter how mean they had been in the past and she had no intention of doing so now. The only thing she had to sort out was where they were all going to sleep, because, with all her guests, plus Carlos and the land girls, all the rooms were taken up. But she would think of something. What mattered was that they were safe now.

‘Oh,’ said Mrs Jackson when she entered the farmhouse to see Olive and Dulcie sitting at the table peeling vegetables, ‘I didn’t know you had company.’ She said it in such a manner, Agnes felt as if Mrs Jackson was really put out.

‘This is Mrs Olive Robbins, my landlady in Article Row, and this is Dulcie James-Thompson, who also used to lodge with us and who married one of ‘The Few’. didn’t you, Dulcie?’ Agnes said proudly, although the others could see she was nervous now.

‘Mrs Jackson, I’m so pleased to meet you at last,’ said Olive, standing up and holding out her hand, putting her own troubles to one side now. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ said Mrs Jackson in a surly voice, looking over at Dulcie, who didn’t seem the least bothered that her beautiful manicure was being spoiled by potato peeling.

Carlo came in from the milking shed. ‘Agnes, can I have a word?’ he asked, politely doffing his cap at the ladies present then edging his way out of the kitchen.

‘I need one of the land girls to come up from the low fields to give me a hand with the milking.’

‘Oh, can I have a go, Uncle Carlo?’ Barney asked excitedly, bursting to do something. Agnes looked a little anxious but Carlo seemed to think it was a great idea.

‘Of course you can help me. I was milking cows when I was half your age on my father’s farm in the Apennine Mountains,’ Carlo told Barney as they made to leave.

‘Will you tell me about your home, Carlo?’ Barney asked with the unsophisticated air of a boy who was genuinely interested. They would have been bitter enemies this time last year, but this did not seem to faze Barney one little bit.

‘Come on, Mr, how-you-say, Nosy Parker,’ Carlo said, and laughed as he ruffled Barney’s hair.

Even though the sun was shining brightly, it was bitterly cold as Sally stepped out of Lime Street Station and saw the devastation that Hitler’s bombs had brought to her home city of Liverpool. As the warm breath left her lips it cascaded into the air in a plume, then dissipated, only to be replaced with another plume as she pulled on the woollen gloves that Olive had knitted a few Christmases ago.

Making her way to the bus stop in St John’s Lane, Sally waited for the bus that would take her to the place she had put off visiting for so long: her mother’s grave. While Alice was with Olive and the rest of the family Sally had decided to come back to Liverpool, just for the day, knowing she could catch a train back later.

It was difficult for Sally not to think of the dreary November day of her mother’s funeral now. In contrast to that heart-breaking, wretched winter’s day five years ago, when she sat by her mother’s grave and felt her world collapse around her, she now knew that things happened for a reason and she was better able to understand.

So much had happened since she lost her mother, and she was more hopeful now, even feeling positive about the future. It was an open secret that the military would soon be on the move and once they had reached their objective this dreadful war would be over.

The frost sparkled on the pavement where nearby office workers from the law courts were huddled in their coats, rushing to get out of the bitterly cold weather and into their nice warm offices. And as gulls vied with pigeons soaring in the frozen sky it was hard to believe there was a war being fought all over the world.

That Liverpool had been through its own battles was evident in the chipped and broken sandstone pillars that had been caught by blast or bombs, and gaping spaces where once there had been houses or shops. Sally recalled her days as a little girl when her father had brought her here to stroll in the wonderful sunny gardens and her heart was sore for the devastation to her city.