Sealed With a Loving Kiss (6 page)

Peggy collected the post and went back into the kitchen where a rather fragile Cordelia was nursing a hangover. ‘I did warn you that another sherry wouldn't do you any good,' she said fondly.

‘My headache has nothing to do with the sherry,' protested Cordelia as Daisy hung on to her hands to keep her balance. ‘It was all that noise. As lovely as it was, I left the Anchor with my ears ringing.'

Peggy seemed to remember that she'd left the pub happily singing as she leaned very heavily on Ron's arm. But she let it pass. ‘There's another letter from Canada for you,' she said instead.

‘My word,' Cordelia breathed. ‘Things are changing.'

Peggy was glad to hear it. Cordelia's two sons had emigrated to Canada many years ago, and up until quite recently there had been few letters and cards. Yet, with the war on, their consciences must have been pricking, for they'd not only sent a wonderful parcel stuffed with tinned goodies, material, knitting wool and dried fruit, but had sent several letters these past weeks.

She retrieved Daisy, who was now very unsteadily trying to climb up Cordelia's legs, and put her in the playpen so they could both read their letters in peace. Daisy was into everything now she could crawl and pull herself up on things, and it meant having to watch her every minute.

Daisy stood at the railings and threw her toys out at Harvey, who was lying in front of the fire. He gave a little groan of annoyance, sneezed and went back to sleep. He'd had a long walk with Ron and Monty this morning and, after their late night, just wanted to be left in peace to dream of chasing rabbits.

Peggy sat down and sorted through the airgraphs to work out which was the earliest one, then eagerly opened the plain brown envelope. Measuring only four by five-and-a-bit inches, and restricted to just over two hundred words, Jim's usual scrawl was cramped as he'd tried to cram in everything he wanted to tell her.

The seas had been very rough during the first part of the journey, and although he was feeling a good deal better now, he was still suffering from a cold. The days had become much warmer as the convoy headed for their first port of call, and he'd seen many strange and exotic sea birds along the way. They'd been escorted for a while by a school of porpoises, which had been a magical sight, and one he'd never forget.

When he wasn't doing his batman duties for the Brigadier and the Colonel, he'd spent most of his time on the poop deck reading. There was a concert organised each afternoon, but on the whole the time was passing very slowly and it was getting extremely hot and uncomfortable below decks at night.

The second, third and fourth airgraphs described the long days at sea, the various concerts put on by the men who had a talent for such things, and the games of housey-housey, at which he'd had no luck. They'd been offered lessons in French, German or Hindustani, and because he was so bored, he thought he might try one of them – which made Peggy smile, for he had enough trouble with the King's English, let alone some foreign language.

There had been lectures over the Forces' radio, and he'd managed to snaffle one of the Brigadier's Players cigarettes, which had been a real treat after the Woodbines they sold on board. It was extremely hot in the hammocks below decks now the blackouts had been put over the portholes, so everyone had stripped off and the place stank of sweaty feet and more besides.

There was a sweepstake being run on how many miles the ship travelled every day, and frequent calls to midnight musters on deck. Orders went out for every man to wear tropical kit, but they soon became soaked with sweat, which was most unpleasant. But they'd seen shoals of flying fish, and used seawater hoses to keep cool – and to keep them from getting too browned off, there were boxing matches and tugs of war between the various services on board, as well as a singing competition which he'd entered and come third. Most of the men, Jim included, had taken to sleeping up on deck during the night now they were approaching the equator, for the temperature below had soared above a hundred degrees.

Peggy carefully slid the airgraphs back into their envelopes and placed them in the shoebox she kept in her wardrobe. She could have done with lazy days and a bit of heat herself, for it was a bitterly cold December, and with Daisy's first birthday, the wedding and Christmas looming, she didn't have time to sit about.

She returned to the kitchen and set about heating up the vegetable soup they would have for lunch. There was a ham bone for tonight – not that there was a lot of meat on it – and she had left it to simmer with some pearl barley and the rest of the vegetables. If there was any soup left after lunch, she'd throw that in as well. With so many people to feed, it was a huge help to have Ron's garden out the back, and his shared allotment with Stan. However, the potatoes were almost gone until the next lot came up, so she'd soon have to go and stand in some endless queue to buy more.

She watched through the kitchen window as Ron carefully lifted his onions out of the cold ground and tied them together with string. They would be hung up in the dry shed until they were needed.

Her larder was actually looking fairly respectable for once, for she and the girls had gone in search of blackberries earlier in the autumn, and having saved enough sugar, there were now several jars of jam in her larder. Ron's crop of beetroot had been boiled and pickled, and she'd made endless jars of onion and tomato chutney. Cordelia had found a recipe for parsnip wine, and the result was now fermenting up in the airing cupboard – which gave Peggy many a sleepless night, for she suspected that if the bottles weren't watched carefully, they'd explode all over her clean linen and towels.

The herbs had been harvested and dried, then placed in yet more jars, so the bland meals could be given a bit of flavour, and the very last of her bags of white flour had been carefully stored away until the time came for her to add it to the mixture for the wedding cake, which was now in a large bowl in the larder, protected by a strip of muslin.

She had begged, borrowed and saved her rations as well as she could, and with the dried fruit that Cordelia's family had sent from Canada, she knew, from the heavenly smell of it every time she'd stirred a few drops of Ron's brandy into the mixture over the past couple of weeks, that the cake would be rich and flavoursome. The bag of icing sugar that Rosie had donated was an absolute treasure, and Peggy was already planning on how to do the icing – although she still didn't know where on earth she could find the appropriate decorations to put on top.

As she stirred the soup, Peggy thought about all the things still to do before the wedding. Suzy's parents would be arriving on the 18th. At first they had insisted upon booking into the Grand Hotel for the night, but since that had been reduced to rubble, and there were no other hotels that hadn't been requisitioned by the forces, Peggy had asked them to stay with her instead. She'd made it clear that her accommodation was not as posh as they might be used to, but that they could be assured of a warm welcome. She'd also rather reluctantly extended the invitation for them to stay over for a few extra days – which would have stretched her housekeeping to the limit. Thankfully, they'd declined as they already had pressing engagements back in London.

Doris, of course, had made a terrific fuss about these arrangements. She'd insisted that such important people shouldn't be staying in Peggy's tatty old boarding house, and had even overridden Peggy's invitation by issuing one of her own.

Having heard about Doris from Suzy, and how she'd tried to take over everything, and driven both her and Anthony to distraction in the process, Mr and Mrs James had tactfully declined, citing the fact that they wished to spend time with their daughter and wanted to be with her on her wedding morning so that her father could escort her from Beach View to the church.

Peggy kept stirring the soup, her thoughts occupied by all the changes that would have to be made to accommodate them. Sarah and Jane had willingly offered to give up the large double room at the front of the house and would move into the smaller one at the back. As they were sisters, they didn't mind sharing the double bed just for a couple of nights. Yet it would mean stripping beds, emptying cupboards and giving the room a jolly good spring clean.

As she simply couldn't expect such important visitors to eat in the kitchen, the dining room would also have to be cleaned and polished, and the floor given a good waxing. The sweep was coming tomorrow to deal with the chimney – she didn't want any falls of soot spoiling the proceedings – and she would have to hunt out her best china and glass and make sure they were thoroughly washed. Her mother's lovely hand-stitched linen tablecloths and napkins needed a wash and iron, and the dust and cobwebs had to be beaten out of the long velvet curtains and swept from the cornices and ceiling rose.

Harvey would have to be hosed down and made sweeter-smelling with his special shampoo and flea powder. Ron would have to be bullied into taking a bath and putting on decent clothes for a change and then be persuaded to have a haircut and shave – and the ferrets must be firmly locked in their cage and kept out of sight. It was a huge upheaval for just one night, and with less than a week to go, Peggy was feeling rather beleaguered.

‘Oh, how lovely,' sighed Cordelia as she came to the end of her letter and took off her half-moon reading glasses.

‘Good news?' asked Peggy distractedly.

‘They've asked if I would like to go to Canada to live with them for the rest of the war. They're rather concerned about my safety here, being so close to the Channel.'

‘It's a bit late in the day for them to be concerned,' said Peggy with some asperity. ‘You were more in danger during the Blitz.'

‘I know, dear, but the thought is there, and it was very kind of them to offer.'

Peggy studied her friend as she put the letter back in the envelope. Cordelia's expression was one of sadness and longing, and Peggy's heart went out to her, for her family had virtually ignored her until now, and she wondered rather cynically if this new concern was entirely altruistic. Cordelia had a fair amount of money tucked away in the bank as well as the ownership of a bungalow which she'd inherited, and was still in possession of several very nice pieces of antique silver and valuable jewellery.

‘You're not actually considering going, are you?' she asked with some alarm.

‘Of course not, dear,' Cordelia replied. ‘My home is here with you, and if they'd really been concerned about my welfare, they'd have issued their invitation back in 1939.'

Peggy gave a sigh of relief. ‘I'm glad they asked you,' she said as she went to put her hand on the older woman's shoulder. ‘But this old place just wouldn't be the same if you weren't here.'

‘Bless you, Peggy.' Cordelia patted her hand. ‘I can think of no place I'd rather be – and the thought of going on some convoy across the Atlantic with U-boats hunting us down makes me go cold.'

‘But you'd like to see your sons again, wouldn't you? And meet all the grandchildren and so on?'

Cordelia nodded. ‘But I'm far too old to start thinking of going all that way, war or not. Perhaps they'll come and visit me when it's all over.'

Peggy heard the wistfulness in her voice. ‘Well, they'll get a warm welcome,' she said firmly. She turned to the stove and gave the soup a final stir. ‘Could you lay the table and slice some bread, Cordelia? Lunch is ready.'

She shouted down to Ron to wash his hands and come up, and then gasped in delight as a wonderfully familiar figure came through the back gate. ‘We've got a visitor, Cordelia,' she said excitedly. ‘Lay another place, would you?'

Before Cordelia could ask who it was, Martin Black came running up the cellar steps to be greeted by a joyful Harvey, who put his front feet on Martin's shoulders so he could lick his face, thereby knocking off his gold-braided peaked hat.

‘Get down, ye heathen beast,' growled Ron, making a grab for his collar. ‘Sorry, Martin,' he said as he retrieved the hat and gave it a rub with his dirty sweater sleeve. ‘I hope he hasn't damaged your uniform jacket.'

Martin took the hat, ruffled Harvey's head and looked at everyone with a beaming smile as he smoothed his handlebar moustache. ‘No damage done. My word, it's lovely to see you all again.'

Peggy threw her arms about him and hugged him tight. She adored Martin, for he was not only the perfect son-in-law, but one of the bravest men she knew. ‘We don't see enough of you,' she said. ‘How lovely you could snatch some time off.'

‘We're on ops again tonight, so I can't stay long, unfortunately.' He unbuttoned his blue jacket and loosened his tie. ‘But I had a couple of hours to spare, so I thought I'd trundle over.' His gaze fell on Cordelia, who was in a lather of excitement. ‘And how's my special girl today?' he boomed.

‘All the better for seeing you, you naughty boy,' she twittered. ‘Now come and give this old lady a kiss before she melts right away with longing.'

Peggy smiled as he duly obliged, then remembered the soup and quickly took the pot off the stove. ‘You timed it well,' she teased as she reached for an extra bowl. ‘We were just about to have lunch.'

‘That soup smells wonderful. Just what the doctor ordered on such a cold day.' He rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation and then went to pluck Daisy out of her playpen so he could give her a hug.

Peggy watched him and her heart twisted, for she knew how very deeply he was missing his own children.

Having amused Daisy for a while, he placed her carefully in her high chair and tied the bib around her chubby neck. Then he reached into his pocket to draw out a packet wrapped in newspaper.

‘This is a little something to put away for the wedding. Be careful with it, though,' he added as he handed it to Peggy. ‘It's quite delicate and only on loan, I'm afraid.'