Keep Smiling Through (13 page)

‘I’m sorry, Rita, I should have told you.’ May leaned against the rickety kitchen table, gazing at the mug in her hands. ‘But I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure.’

Rita’s own excitement ebbed. ‘What is it, May? What have you done?’

May took a deep breath and finally looked Rita in the eye. Her face was alight with excitement, and her words tumbled over each other in her eagerness. ‘I’ve been accepted into the Women’s Air Transport Auxiliary. They’re going to teach me to fly planes, Rita, and soon I’ll be ferrying supplies and troops all over the country.’

Rita stared at her, stunned into silence.

May perched beside her and took her hand. ‘I know I should have said something,’ she murmured. ‘But I didn’t have the nerve to tell you until I was sure I’d be taken on.’

‘But when did all this happen?’

‘About a week ago,’ May admitted. She squeezed Rita’s hand as if to emphasise her regret for not sharing her secret. ‘It’s something I never thought I could ever do,’ she said breathlessly. ‘When I saw all them posh women enlist, I thought I wouldn’t fit in, but it doesn’t seem to matter where I come from, or how I speak – and the woman at the base was ever so nice and encouraging. She even took me out to have a look at the planes and to meet some of the other women pilots.’

‘I never knew you wanted to fly planes,’ said Rita, still struggling to absorb her friend’s news – and the fact that she’d kept it to herself for a whole week.

May grinned. ‘Neither did I until I saw that poster outside the Town Hall. Then I got to thinking, why not? Other women are doing it, and it has to be about the most exciting thing any girl could do, don’t you think?’

Rita laughed. ‘I think you’re mad,’ she replied, giving her a hug. ‘But well done you. Who would have thought it? May Lynch flying planes.’

May’s enthusiasm was brimming over. ‘Why don’t you apply as well? They’re crying out for more crew and the pay is terrific. We’d be on the same wage as the RAF pilots, and that’s not to be sniffed at.’

Rita chuckled. ‘It’s two feet on the ground for me, May, so I’ll stick to motorbikes.’

May’s little face became solemn. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Rita, but I only got the confirmation this morning.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Rita replied. ‘We’ll probably see one another on the airfield – you in your plane and me on my bike. Cissy’s joined the WAAFs with her friend Amy, so it’ll be quite like old times.’

May giggled. ‘I hope not,’ she managed. ‘Cissy was always trying to dress us up in frocks and tiaras, and plastering us in powder and rouge.’ She eyed Rita’s make-up. ‘She’s still at it I see,’ she said dryly.

‘I quite like it,’ said Rita, not wanting to be disloyal to Cissy. ‘But when I’ll get the chance to wear it again, I don’t know.’ She eyed her friend with affection and sadness. This war was providing opportunities that none of them could have dreamed of, but those opportunities would change them, make them drift apart. ‘When will you start your training?’

‘In four days,’ May replied softly.

‘But that’s so soon,’ Rita gasped.

May took her hand. ‘At least we can celebrate your birthday together and have a bit of fun before I leave.’ Her expression was tearful. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, ‘but there’s nothing here for me – Mum couldn’t care less, and if I’m to make anything of my life then I have to get out. This is my chance to really do something, Rita – to make a difference.’

‘I know, but I’m going to miss you, May.’

‘Me too, but we must promise to keep in touch, no matter where we’re sent or what we do.’

Rita gave her friend a swift hug to reassure her, but the thought of another goodbye broke her heart. Plastering on a smile, she tried to dispel the gloom. ‘Let’s take the bikes out for a run and to hell with the petrol rationing.’

May grinned and reached for her jacket and helmet. ‘Race you to the old water tower up in the hills. Last one there pays for tickets to the flicks tonight.’

They raced out of the room and onto the pavement. Within moments the two motorbikes roared down the street and headed for the hills, leaving the echoes of the powerful engines ringing in the silence.

PEGGY HAD FINISHED
packing the day before, but there was still plenty to do before she left. It had been lovely to have Cissy home for a few hours, but having kissed her goodbye and waved her off as the young pilot officer drove her away, she felt the full impact of what she was about to do.

With Mrs Finch busy at the sink peeling the potatoes Ron had dug from the garden, she determinedly ignored the cavalier way the old lady was wielding that paring knife, and checked on the provisions in her larder.

There were still Christmas puddings, made long before the war, and an absolute godsend now the rationing was so severe. There would be no cake this year, and certainly no mince pies, but Ron had a couple of pheasants hanging downstairs, and Mrs Finch had assured her she knew how to cook them. Vegetables would be no problem, Ron’s garden was bountiful, and she knew for a fact there was enough whisky and rum to keep Jim and his father in a stupor for most of the Christmas holiday. But her larder was woefully understocked for this time of year, with only a few tins, half a bag of flour, and a few jars of preserves she’d made during the summer.

She closed the larder door and stood for a moment deep in thought. Was she doing the right thing? Could Jim and Ron really cope? Was she being selfish by leaving them for so long?’

‘It’s no good you standing there worrying,’ said Mrs Finch. She wiped her hands on the wrap-round apron she’d borrowed from Peggy and which swamped her. ‘You need to see your children, and I’m perfectly capable of keeping this house in order while you’re away. So stop fretting.’

Peggy gave her a warm smile. ‘I know you are,’ she said, ‘but it doesn’t feel right, leaving you all . . .’

‘Stuff and nonsense,’ the old lady retorted, dropping the potatoes into the saucepan. ‘You’re a mother and it
is
Christmas.’

Peggy was about to reply when she heard two sets of footsteps crossing the hall.

The kitchen door creaked and a happy face peeked round it before it was flung open. ‘Hello, Mum. We thought we’d surprise you.’

‘Anne! Martin! Oh, my darlings, how wonderful.’ Peggy flew across the room and gathered her eldest daughter into her arms as she grinned a tearful hello to Martin over her shoulder.

‘Careful, Mum,’ laughed Anne. ‘You’re squashing the heir to the family dynasty.’

Peggy stepped back and admired the enormous bulge between them. ‘Goodness,’ she laughed shakily, ‘you have got big, haven’t you? Are you sure it’s not twins?’

Anne tossed back her lovely dark hair and giggled. ‘It feels like it at times, but the doctor says there’s only one in there.’

She grabbed their hands. ‘Come in, both of you, and sit down. This is such a lovely, lovely surprise, I feel quite giddy.’

She slammed the kettle on the hob as Anne and Martin kissed Mrs Finch and shed their heavy coats. Martin was in his RAF uniform, and Anne was wearing something that resembled a smocked tent beneath a thick cardigan Peggy remembered knitting some time ago. How lovely it was to see them, and how radiant Anne was.

‘You’re both looking very well,’ said Mrs Finch, twinkling up at Martin. ‘I do so like to see a handsome man in uniform.’

Martin twirled his magnificent moustache like a pantomime villain and twinkled back. ‘There’s nothing like a pretty girl to cheer a chap up,’ he said gallantly.

Mrs Finch collapsed into giggles and had to sit down.

Peggy made the tea and they settled by the fire to catch up on their news.

Half an hour later they were still talking and Mrs Finch had gone to sleep. ‘I brought presents for the boys,’ said Anne, her elegant hands folded on the top of her bump. ‘I hope you’ve got room for them in your case.’

Peggy pointed to the bulging string bag sitting on the dresser. ‘Their presents are all in there, and I’m sure I can find room for more.’ She took the gifts and, with a bit of judicious prodding and poking, managed to get them in. ‘By the way,’ she said, returning to her seat at the kitchen table, ‘have you given any thoughts to a name for this baby?’

Anne and Martin exchanged soft, loving smiles. ‘We thought Peter James Ronan Black if it’s a boy, and Rose Margaret if it’s a girl.’

‘Just like our sweet Princess Margaret Rose,’ Peggy sighed. ‘How lovely.’

‘Actually, Mum, the Margaret bit is after you.’

She hugged her happiness. ‘How darling of you, but only your Aunt Doris calls me Margaret, and she does that to wind me up.’ She saw the startled concern in their expressions and hurried to reassure them. ‘But Rose Margaret is a pretty name, so much nicer than plain old Peggy, and I’ll be very proud to know my name will live on in my granddaughter.’

She eyed the pair of them, looking so content and happy. ‘Have you told your parents yet, Martin?’

‘I went to visit them a few weeks ago. Thought it better face to face, don’t you know? They said all the right things, of course, but we’ve heard nothing from them since.’

Peggy thought grimly of Martin’s snooty family, and the way they had virtually cut their son off once he’d married her Anne. Well, they would live to regret it, she was sure of that, and she could only wish she had the chance to give them a good piece of her mind about their disgraceful behaviour. It was all very well being rich and well connected, but without your children and grandchildren about you, what good was any of it?

‘It’s all right, Mrs Reilly,’ said Martin. ‘Really it is. Anne and I are perfectly happy, and we know we’ll always have you – and that’s far more than any of us could hope for.’ His handsome face lit with a smile, making him seem so terribly young that it made Peggy’s heart ache.

‘Martin Black, you’re a flirt,’ she chided softly. ‘But don’t think you can get round me as easily as you do Mrs Finch.’ She cocked her head and eyed him thoughtfully. ‘I get the feeling you’re after something, so you’d better get on and tell me what it is.’

‘I knew it wouldn’t take long for her to cotton on,’ Anne said to Martin before turning back to Peggy. ‘Mum, I hope you don’t mind, but Martin and I have come to a decision.’

Peggy was immediately alarmed. ‘What?’

Anne laughed. ‘Don’t panic, it’s nothing too serious.’ She licked her lips, her hands fidgeting with her voluminous dress. ‘It’s just that Martin is on duty all over Christmas, and with you away in Somerset, we thought it would be a good idea for me to move in here until you get back.’

‘But, darling, that would be perfect.’ Peggy took her hand and held it between her own. ‘Are you sure, though? You know what your father and granddad are like – and of course there’s Mrs Finch and the three nurses to think about as well – and you mustn’t do too much, not in your condition.’

‘I’m as fit as I ever was, and I don’t intend to scrub floors or redecorate the dining room,’ Anne said wryly. ‘But it will be nice to have company, and a bit of cooking and cleaning will keep me out of mischief.’

‘Oh, dear,’ sighed Peggy, torn between wanting her home, and not wanting to thrust the responsibility of her household on her young shoulders. ‘Are you really sure?’

Martin rested his hand on Peggy’s shoulder, his gaze level. ‘Mrs Reilly, you really must stop worrying about everyone and think about yourself for a change. Anne needs company over Christmas, and with the baby due in less than two months, it’s the perfect solution. I would be so much happier knowing she was here, safe with her family and close to doctors and the hospital.’

Peggy caved in willingly. ‘I’ll push the two beds together in the spare room, and hunt out some fresh sheets.’

‘I won’t be staying tonight, Mrs Reilly,’ he replied sadly. ‘I have to be back on base before midnight.’

‘Oh.’ She gazed at him, noting for the first time how weary he looked and how deeply etched the lines on his face had become. ‘Will you be able to visit Anne at all?’

‘When I can,’ he assured her. He took Anne’s hands and kissed the knuckles as he gazed adoringly into her eyes. ‘It’s hard for both of us, but this war has to be won. Anne understands that and has been an absolute brick, and as long as I know she’s with her family I can get on with my job in an easier frame of mind.’

‘Bless you,’ murmured Peggy, once again close to tears.

Peggy hadn’t expected to be able to sleep, what with all the excitement of having Anne home again, the worry over leaving the family to fend for themselves, fear for the long, possibly dangerous journey ahead of her, and the excited anticipation of seeing her sons again. But when she opened her eyes and looked at the bedside clock, she realised it was almost six and time to get up.

The wind was howling outside and a chill draught whistled under the door. Peggy steeled herself to throw off the blankets.

‘Stay another minute,’ murmured Jim, his arm heavy across her midriff. ‘To be sure, I’m going to miss you, Peg.’

She snuggled down happily into his embrace. ‘I’m going to miss you, too,’ she said against the reassuring, steady beat of his heart. ‘But you have to promise not to get up to any mischief while I’m away.’

He eased his head back on the pillow, his eyes widening in feigned shock. ‘Mischief? Me?’

She giggled and poked his chest. ‘Yes, you, Jim Reilly. I know all about those cigarettes and bottles of rum and whisky you’ve hidden in the shed, and I don’t want to see them still there when I get back.’ She looked him in the eye, trying desperately hard not to laugh. ‘And that doesn’t mean you can replace them with anything else illicit. I won’t have this house become a den of iniquity.’

His chuckle was low and rumbled in his chest. ‘A den of iniquity, is it now?’ He grabbed her and held her tightly. ‘If it’s iniquity you’re after, then I’m your man,’ he growled into her neck, his hand slipping possessively over her hip.

‘Jim,’ she softly protested, pushing feebly against his chest.

‘Shhh,’ he whispered in her ear as his hand softly caressed the warm skin of her thigh beneath the winceyette nightdress. ‘Be still, me darlin’ girl, and let me love you.’

Peggy gave in to the glorious sensations he’d aroused. The rest of the world could wait a few minutes more.