Always in My Heart (26 page)

Cordelia was an honest, straightforward woman, and she’d found it extremely hard to keep acting as if nothing had happened when all the time her thoughts
were with all those poor women and children on that ship. But Peggy and the rest of the family had their own sorrows, and the last thing they needed was for her to lose control and spill out her anguish.

She’d lain in bed night after night thinking about the sinking of the
Monarch of the Glen
, and had trawled every newspaper since in search of further news, but there had been nothing – not even a hint that it might have just been a cruel hoax by the Japanese. Yet there had been tales of terrible atrocities in Hong Kong, and Cordelia suspected that targeting a ship full of women and children was not something this particular enemy would deem reprehensible.

They had eaten a sandwich for lunch and then Peggy had taken Daisy down to the Town Hall so she could sign up for duty again and get back into the swing of things. Cordelia had waited until she was out of sight before she carefully made her way down the cellar steps.

Harvey greeted her by thumping his tail on the cellar floor, but his attention was fixed on Ron, who was fiddling about with straw and bits of newspaper.

Ron finished layering the straw and paper-strips on the floor of the large wire-fronted box which he’d set up beneath the scullery sink, and looked up in surprise as Cordelia reached the bottom step.

‘Hello,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Do you want me to get one of the deckchairs out? It’s a lovely afternoon, so it is, and quite sheltered in the corner next to the fence.’

‘Not at the moment, but thank you,’ she said as she
eyed the box. ‘Isn’t that where you used to keep Cleo and Delilah?’

‘Aye, it is that,’ he said with a gleeful grin. ‘And soon there will be new residents.’

‘Oh, Ron,’ she sighed as she sat down on the bottom step. ‘You know how Peggy feels about ferrets. She’s not going to like it.’

Ron laughed. ‘She’s agreed to let me have them as long as they stay down here. Would you like to see them?’

She wasn’t at all sure she would, but as Ron was looking so eager, and she needed his advice, she decided to be brave. ‘As long as they don’t bite,’ she murmured. ‘I still remember Cleo sinking her teeth into my thumb. It was painful for weeks.’

‘These ones are just babies,’ he replied as he reached into his coat. ‘As long as you keep your hands away from their mouths, you’ll be fine.’ He drew the two kits out and held them against his chest for her inspection. ‘Flora and Dora,’ he said by way of introduction.

‘They’re very sweet,’ she said and smiled. ‘Can I stroke them?’ At his nod, she reached out and touched the soft fur, remembering how Cleo and Delilah would go into an almost ecstatic trance when they had their tummies rubbed.

‘They seem to like you,’ said Ron, ‘but I think that’s enough for now. It’s time we put them into their box so they can settle in and get used to their new home.’

Cordelia saw how tenderly he placed them on the fresh straw and newspaper, and how he’d hooked
the water and food bowls to the wire mesh so they wouldn’t spill over their bedding. She continued to watch as they completely ignored a whining, curious Harvey who had his nose pressed to the wiring, and sniffed every corner, exploring their surroundings before tucking into their food and water. ‘They look as if they’ll settle nicely,’ she murmured.

‘Aye, they will that,’ he said as he pulled Harvey away, got off the floor and brushed his hands down his disreputable trousers. He eyed her keenly as she continued to sit on the cold stone step. ‘Were you wanting to talk to me about something, Cordelia?’ he asked.

‘I do need to talk to someone,’ she admitted, ‘but I’m not sure if even
you
can help me with this particular and rather worrying dilemma.’

‘You can tell me all about it once you’re off that step and all nice and comfy in the sunshine.’ He took her hand and steadied her as she got to her feet. ‘I’ll get the deckchairs out of the shed, and we can sit and put the world to rights in the garden.’

Minutes later the deckchairs had been cleaned of cobwebs and dead spiders, and they were sitting in the sheltered corner by the neighbouring fence, Harvey happily snoring at their feet.

Cordelia told him about the piece in the newspaper, the sleepless nights she’d had ever since, and her unwillingness to burden Peggy or the family when they had their own worries over Jim and Frank. ‘I know it’s not really fair to lay it at your door,’ she admitted,
‘but I so badly needed to tell someone, and I trust you to give me an honest opinion.’

Ron puffed on his pipe for a while and then gave a deep sigh. ‘There’s no doubt that some of those refugee ships were attacked – especially in the last hours before Singapore fell – but from what I understand, the survivors were picked up by other ships in their convoy.’

‘That’s what I’ve been hoping,’ she replied, ‘but the newspaper report didn’t say anything about the
Monarch of the Glen
being in a convoy – only that she was late arriving at her first port of call.’ She wrung her hands in her lap. ‘It’s simply too awful to think of all those women and innocent children being lost at sea.’

‘And there’s no further news in the papers? No follow-up to the story?’

Cordelia shook her head. ‘I’ve looked through both the papers we have here every morning, and even gone through all the ones at the tobacconist’s each day – he wasn’t too happy about it, but let me look as long as I didn’t crease the pages.’

‘There’s probably a news blackout on it,’ said Ron. ‘That sort of thing is bad for morale, and I’m surprised it got past the censors in the first place. There again, it could just be a vicious bit of propaganda.’

‘Do you really think so?’

He chuckled. ‘The Germans claimed they’d sunk HMS
Firle Park
a few weeks ago – turns out she wasn’t a ship at all, but a military headquarters somewhere in the middle of the Sussex countryside.’

‘But the
Monarch is
a real ship,’ she said tremulously. ‘Is there any way we could find out if she made that first port of call – or if she’s been spotted since? Do you think Anthony might know someone we could talk to?’

Ron chewed the stem of his pipe as he considered this and then, realising it had gone out, took a while to relight it. Once he’d got a good burn going, he leaned back and stared into the distance. ‘He might,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘but what we need is someone with contacts in the Navy.’

Cordelia felt a spark of hope, for Ron knew just about everyone in Cliffehaven and, she suspected, an even wider circle of acquaintances much further afield.

He tamped down on the tobacco in his pipe with a grubby thumb. ‘I’ll have a word with Rear Admiral Price. He’s a nice chap, still has contacts at Admiralty House – and he owes me a couple of favours.’

‘Oh, Ron, thank you,’ she breathed. ‘I knew you’d be able to help.’

He patted her hand. ‘Don’t get your hopes up too high, Cordelia,’ he said gruffly. ‘He might only have bad news.’

Cordelia blinked away the tears. ‘At least I’ll know,’ she murmured. ‘It’s the uncertainty of everything that’s so hard to bear.’

Peggy had been welcomed back with open arms, and had got stuck into packing parcels for the boys abroad immediately. She was thoroughly enjoying herself as
she stood in line behind one of the long trestle tables and packed socks, cigarettes, packets of biscuits, small tins of golden syrup and a dozen and one little things to make life a bit more cheerful for the servicemen who were stuck in some inhospitable corner of the world.

She glanced across the room frequently to keep an eye on Daisy, whose pram was parked alongside eight others. It seemed that she wasn’t the only woman who needed to escape the kitchen and nursery, and it was fun to catch up on the scandal, and to exchange ideas of how to dress up a scrag-end to make it edible.

‘Stand by your beds,’ muttered her friend Gladys. ‘Officer approaching.’

‘Oh Gawd,’ breathed Peggy as her sister entered the hall. She ducked her head in the hope she wouldn’t be spotted. ‘Tell me when she’s gone,’ she whispered.

‘No such luck, Peg. She’s making a beeline for you.’

Peggy took a deep breath, kept her head down and carried on packing her box before passing it to the next table where it would be sealed. She could see Doris now, resplendent in the WVS uniform of dark green skirt and jacket and rather silly hat. The suit fitted far too well to have been taken from stores, and Peggy suspected she’d had it tailor-made, and hoped that little Sally Hicks had not been bullied into taking less than the usual charge for such detailed work.

‘Margaret. I didn’t expect to see you here.’

Peggy pulled another box in front of her and reached
for a pair of socks. ‘Hello, Doris,’ she said. ‘I thought it was time to get stuck in again.’

‘Well done,’ said Doris, as she shifted the long strap of her tan leather handbag over her shoulder. ‘It’s rather fortunate that I’ve bumped into you, actually,’ she said quietly. ‘I wonder if you could leave that for a moment? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.’

Peggy looked at her in alarm. This was most unlike the usual rather hectoring Doris, and now she looked at her properly, she could see there were dark shadows beneath her eyes, which couldn’t quite be masked by the heavy layer of face powder. ‘Of course,’ she stammered. ‘Let’s go in the canteen and have a cup of tea.’

Doris curled her lip. ‘If we must, but I was rather hoping we could go to Plummers.’

‘I’ve got Daisy with me and I can’t be long; there’re too many comfort boxes to pack and not enough hands to do them.’ Not waiting for Doris to reply, Peggy led the way through the crush to the canteen which had been set up in the smaller of the two council meeting rooms.

Doris took a sip of tea and raised her severely plucked brows in surprise. ‘Good heavens,’ she breathed. ‘It’s proper tea and every bit as good as Plummers’.’

‘What did you want to talk about, Doris? Only I don’t have much time.’

Doris regarded her evenly. ‘I was quite hurt not to be invited to your party the other week,’ she said. ‘It
comes to something when one learns of such things from your butcher.’

‘That was none of my doing,’ said Peggy hastily. ‘Martin organised it as a surprise.’

Doris’s nostrils narrowed and her eyes hardened. ‘I also understand that my son was there – fraternising with that Suzy.’

‘You make it sound as if she’s the enemy,’ said Peggy as she blew on the hot tea. ‘Suzy and Anthony weren’t “fraternising”, as you put it, they were having a bit of fun at a family party.’ She knew immediately that she’d said the wrong thing.

‘A family party to which I had not been invited,’ said Doris coldly. ‘But as Suzy and Fran and Rita were there, along with the butcher and fishmonger – and probably Uncle Tom Cobley and all – one can only surmise that you have a strange idea of the meaning of the word family.’

‘I’m so sorry, Doris,’ she said with genuine regret. ‘But I didn’t do it on purpose.’

Doris eyed her for a long moment before she reached into her handbag for her cigarette case and gold lighter. She blew smoke and returned her steely gaze to her sister. ‘But then you didn’t make any attempt to make reparation either. You could have telephoned. I was at home all that evening.’

Peggy didn’t know what to say. She was genuinely ashamed of not wanting her sister there, and for not phoning her – but then Doris wasn’t exactly easy to have around, especially at a party where Jim and Ron
got merry and started fooling about. ‘I’ve already apologised,’ she said quietly. ‘Please believe me when I say it won’t happen again.’

Doris smoked her cigarette, her eyes narrowed against the smoke as she watched the women working behind the canteen counter. ‘It seems my family is determined to cause me hurt,’ she said. ‘Edward spends his weekends on the golf course and his evenings at the club; you don’t invite me to family parties; and Anthony seems to prefer spending his precious few hours of leave with that Suzy person instead of with me at home.’

She curled her lip as she stubbed out the cigarette in the tin ashtray. ‘Suzy,’ she muttered in disgust. ‘One would have thought she had grown out of such a ridiculously childish name. But then I’ve always said she’s a wishy-washy kind of girl with only half a brain, and far too easily led on by that Irish flibbertigibbet, Frances.’

Peggy realised that her sister was harbouring all sorts of hurts, and for the first time in her life actually felt rather sorry for her. ‘Anthony and Suzy get on rather well, and she’s much brighter than you give her credit for,’ she said reasonably. ‘She’s a ward sister now, and often works in the theatre alongside the surgeons. Don’t dismiss her, Doris,’ she warned. ‘Suzy is quite a tough character, and it’s clear that Anthony’s smitten.’

‘She isn’t at all the sort of girl I want for my Anthony,’ Doris retorted, ‘and I have made that very plain to him.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Peggy said carefully, ‘because the more you try to keep them apart the more determined they will be to stay together.’ She leaned across the table and stilled Doris’s fingers, which were rapping out a tattoo on the table. ‘I know you’re ambitious for your son; we’re all ambitious for our children – but there comes a time when we have to let them go so they can find their own way in the world.’

‘Just like you did with Cissy,’ hissed Doris nastily. ‘I understand she’s no better than she should be, carrying on with all those men at the airfield.’

Peggy pushed back from the table. ‘Don’t take your anger out on me, Doris,’ she said evenly, ‘or get spiteful about my children. See to your own – and ask yourself why Ted prefers the company at the golf club instead of coming home.’

She left the table before her sister could reply and headed for the other room, rather ashamed at how catty she’d been – but then Doris had no right to say such things about Cissy. Her daughter might flirt a bit, but she certainly wasn’t a tart as Doris had suggested.

Still cross with herself and Doris, she checked on Daisy, who was fast asleep despite all the noise, and went back to her place at the packing table where she snatched up an empty box and began to fill it.