Some Lucky Day (10 page)

Peggy enjoyed working there, for Daisy’s pram could be parked in a corner while she got on with things, there was always someone to gossip with, and the tea and biscuits were cheap. The only fly in the ointment was Peggy’s sister, Doris, who was on the WVS board and considered herself far too important to actually do anything that might dirty her hands.

She swanned in late that morning showing no sign of embarrassment at the scandal her husband had caused by leaving her for a much younger, rather brash woman who worked behind the counter in the Home and Colonial store. Dressed in the tailored dark green uniform of the WVS and looking immaculate as always, she headed straight for Peggy, who was trying to find a suitable skirt for a fat woman who refused to believe she wasn’t a size ten.

‘Margaret,’ she said imperiously. ‘I need to talk to you.’ She shot the fat woman a withering glare. ‘In private.’

Peggy hated being called Margaret and Doris knew it, so she gritted her teeth, smiled at the woman and handed her a skirt the width of a barrage balloon. ‘Why don’t you just try that on, dear,’ she said. ‘And if it’s too big, then you can always take it in at the seams.’

The skirt was snatched with bad grace and a glower and Peggy gave a sigh as she turned to her sister. ‘What’s the matter?’

Doris hooked her hand into the crook of Peggy’s elbow and drew her away from the crowded table. ‘Edward and I had a long talk last night,’ she said quietly. ‘He has left that floozy and moved into one of the apartments above the Home and Colonial.’

Peggy was delighted to hear it for her sister’s sake. The shock of Ted’s infidelity had rocked Doris to the core, and the following scandal had proved all too clearly that her inclusion in what passed as the high society set in Cliffehaven was no longer encouraged. To Peggy’s mind, this was no bad thing: they were a bunch of rich snobs, and probably laughed at the social-climbing Doris behind her back as they got her to do the more onerous tasks for their charities and then took the glory.

‘At least Ted won’t have far to go to work,’ she said lightly.

‘
Edward
is the area manager of the Home and Colonial, not one of the counter staff,’ Doris said snootily.

Peggy let this pass. ‘What about her, the floozy? She’s not still working there, is she?’

Doris’s lips thinned. ‘I believe she’s found employment at the dairy, where she’ll feel much more at home among the other cows.’

Peggy snorted with laughter. ‘Careful, Doris,’ she warned with a giggle, ‘your lowly upbringing is starting to show.’

‘Well,’ she replied with a huff, ‘there are times when one’s feelings have to be given vent.’ She hitched the strap of her expensive brown leather handbag over her shoulder and regained her composure. ‘Anyway, Edward will not be coming back to live in Havelock Road just yet. He has to prove he is genuinely sorry for causing me so much shame and suffering. But I have agreed that he may come to supper twice a week and for lunch on Sundays. Anthony is delighted, of course. It has been very hard for the dear boy to see his mother laid so low.’

‘That’s marvellous, Doris,’ sighed Peggy. ‘I’m so glad you two are talking again.’ She smiled. ‘How is Anthony? We don’t see much of him these days.’

‘Neither do I,’ she replied with a steely glint in her eye. ‘He’s got his very important work with the MOD, of course, which keeps him terribly busy, but he seems to prefer Susan’s company to mine when he’s off duty. I might as well be living alone for all the time he spends with me,’ she added with a sniff of disapproval.

‘He’s young and in love and there’s a war on,’ said Peggy. ‘He and Suzy are a delightful couple, and you should be glad that he’s happy.’

Doris eyed her coldly. ‘Well, I’ve said all I’m going to say on the matter,’ she said abruptly, pulling on her expensive leather gloves. ‘I just wanted you to know how things are panning out between me and Edward.’

Peggy was about to ask if she’d like her to come and keep her company one evening, but Doris had already turned away and was striding towards the front door. ‘It’s always all about you, isn’t it, Doris?’ she murmured. ‘No thought for how I’m doing, or if Daisy and the family are well.’

She could hear Daisy yelling again and looked at the clock. Her shift had ended two hours ago and she’d missed lunch. No wonder Daisy was beginning to complain.

She took off her wrap-round apron and headscarf, stuffed them in her bag along with her shopping and wheeled the pram down the steps, between the high walls of sandbags to the pavement. She was looking forward to washing the smell of musty old clothes off her hands, and tucking into a spam and tomato sauce sandwich.

When she arrived back at Beach View, Cordelia was sitting in a deckchair in the sunlit back garden, peacefully dozing beneath the brim of her straw hat as Ron finished oiling the hinges on the door of the lovely new outside lav.

Harvey was lying, nose on paws, tethered firmly by a rope that had been lashed tightly through a sturdy ring embedded into the back wall of the house. He eyed Peggy mournfully, his ears drooping and his eyebrows twitching in distress as he crawled on his belly towards her and lifted his nose in a pitiful attempt to gain her sympathy and be freed from this terrible imprisonment.

‘You’re an old rogue,’ Peggy soothed as she stroked the soft head. ‘But you don’t get round me like that. I’ll fetch you a biscuit when I’ve made a pot of tea.’

‘And would you be thanking me for the craftsmanship of this fine edifice, Peggy?’ said Ron as he tested the hinges for squeaks.

‘It’s quite magnificent,’ she said, and laughed. ‘Let’s hope it actually works.’

‘To be sure it does,’ he protested, his blue eyes beady beneath the wayward brows. ‘Cordelia was my first customer, and she said she felt quite regal sitting there.’ He opened the door to reveal a shining white porcelain lavatory and matching cast iron cistern with a chain and decorated china handle. ‘As you can see, Peggy, me darlin’, only the best will do for this family,’ he said proudly.

Peggy eyed it all and was immediately suspicious. ‘Where did you get it?’

Ron took off his cap and ran his fingers through his thatch of wiry, greying hair, his gaze drifting away from her. ‘Well now, Peggy, you’ll not be needing to know that.’

‘Oh, but I do,’ she said, leaving the pram beside the dog and going into the shed to inspect the lav more closely. ‘If this lot has been stolen, then you’ll not only have the police to deal with, but me as well – and believe me, Ron, you wouldn’t like that at all.’

‘Ach, Peggy, you’re a hard woman so y’are. I’ve built you the new convenience you’ve been badgering me for, and all you can do is complain.’

Peggy ignored him and regarded the fancy lettering etched into the cistern and the prettily decorated china handle on the flush chain that bore the same legend. ‘The Imperial Hotel,’ she read aloud.

‘Well now, I can explain all that,’ he said quickly. ‘When the hotel got bombed, me and Fred the Fish went down there to see what we could find. And there were dozens of these just lying about without a scratch on them. It seemed a shame not to make use of them. Fred’s wife’s delighted with hers, and Alf has put one in his house too.’

Peggy was trying very hard to keep a straight face as she turned to look at her father-in-law. ‘It’s called looting, Ron,’ she said rather unevenly. ‘You should all be ashamed of yourselves.’

‘There’s no shame in making use of things that were no longer needed,’ he replied, ‘and there will be no trouble from the police, because the sergeant and two of the constables have got some of these as well, and they asked the hotel owner if it was all right to take them,’ he said all in one breath. ‘So there,’ he finished triumphantly.

Peggy couldn’t be cross with him for very long and she burst out laughing and gave him a hug. ‘I do love you, Ronan Reilly,’ she said fondly.

‘Ach,’ he said bashfully, ‘don’t be talking so soft. Go and make that tea.’

Kitty was vaguely aware of hearing voices close by. At first they were muffled as though coming from the depths of the sea, and she wondered fleetingly why that should be. But then she seemed to be floating in a warm womb of darkness and didn’t have the strength or will to open her eyes and try to solve the puzzle.

She drifted in this comfortable place, uncaring and unaware of anything very much, until the unmistakable sound of Charlotte’s voice penetrated her solitude.

‘She looks so small and fragile,’ sobbed Charlotte. ‘Oh, God, she’s going to die, isn’t she?’

The darkness was holding Kitty hostage, making her limbs too heavy to move and deadening her ability to speak. But the protest was roaring in her head as she fought the debilitating dumbness to convince Charlotte that she was mistaken. ‘No, Charlotte,’ she screamed silently. ‘I’m not dying. I can hear you – I’m all right.’

And then suddenly it didn’t seem to matter, and she sank gratefully back into the soft, enveloping oblivion. Time lost all meaning, and although she drifted on the cusp of light and dark and caught snatches of conversation and the impression of people around her, she had no will to move further into the light which she knew was just beyond the horizon of this grey, silent, pain-free world where she felt safe.

‘Kitty, wake up. Come on, Sis. It’s time to open your eyes and come back to the land of the living.’

Freddy’s voice penetrated this comfortable cocoon in which she floated and his words seem to draw her from the darkness and softly carry her towards the dawn she could see glimmering in the distance. She wanted to see him, to reach out and reassure him that she knew he was there and that she was all right. But she simply didn’t have the strength to open her eyes, not even for her beloved brother.

‘Kitty, come on,’ he implored softly. ‘I know you can hear me, and I’m sure it’s really hard to open your eyes, but you have to stop messing about and wake up now.’

She felt as if she was hovering on the very edge of that secure and sheltering darkness, and for a moment she was afraid of leaving it for the unknown beyond – but Freddy was waiting for her there, calling her into the light, and she knew she must go to him.

Slowly and inexorably, she found she was being drawn from that soft twilight into a glaring glow that hurt her eyes and sent shock-waves of pain right through her. She closed her eyes and turned away, trying to curl into the pain – but that made it worse, and she yearned to return to the soothing nothingness of that darker plain.

‘Hello, Kitty Cat,’ he murmured. ‘I know you can hear me. Welcome back.’

The pain stirred like a waking monster, burning through every part of her, its claws digging into her stomach and legs as if threatening to devour them. ‘Freddy?’ she rasped, her voice sounding strangely vulnerable and unfamiliar.

‘Yes, I’m here, Kitty.’ She felt the soft touch of his fingers on her cheek. ‘It’s all right. You’re quite safe, and I’ve moved the bedside light so it won’t blind you now.’

She dared to slowly open her eyes, confused by the pain and the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. She seemed to be strapped into a bed and there was a floral curtain surrounding her, closing her off from the darkened room beyond. And then he leaned over her and she could see his regular, handsome features and blue eyes. But his face appeared to be lined with fatigue, his eyes shadowed by some indefinable sorrow, and she felt a stab of alarm. ‘Has something happened to Charlotte?’ she rasped.

‘Charlotte’s on duty in Manchester,’ he said quickly. ‘She’s absolutely fine.’

Kitty closed her eyes as the relief rushed through her. ‘But she was here just a minute ago,’ she murmured with a frown. ‘I heard her voice.’

‘That was some time ago,’ he replied softly.

She tried to accept this, but was certain Freddy had made a mistake. Charlotte had been here, and she’d been talking to someone. But the puzzle was too taxing to deal with now, for the monster of pain was flexing its steely fingers through every inch of her body. ‘Sleep,’ she muttered. ‘I want to sleep.’

‘I know, Kitty,’ he replied, ‘but the doctor says you must wake up now so he can talk to you.’

She didn’t want to talk to anyone, but to be left alone to sink back into oblivion and banish this awful pain.

‘Kitty.’ His fingers lightly brushed her cheek again. ‘Kitty, he’s on his way, and it’s important you wake up and listen to what he has to say. Come on, Sis.’

She opened her eyes again and looked up into his concerned face. ‘What happened, Freddy? The pain is . . . almost unbearable.’

‘The doctor will give you something to stop the pain after he’s spoken to you,’ he said gently. He leaned forward, the gold buttons and epaulettes of his Air Force uniform glinting in the pool of lamplight which illuminated the bed and the surrounding curtain like an oasis in the darkened room.

‘As for what happened; you pranged the Oxford and got banged up pretty badly,’ he said, his soft voice rough with controlled emotion. ‘Luckily you came down close to a factory airfield, so the rescue crew got to you quickly, which undoubtedly saved your life. Now you’re in the special hospital for service personnel just outside the town of Cliffehaven.’

The fog of confusion and disorientation cleared enough for her to have sudden total recall of those last few terrifying seconds when she’d thought she was about to die. But Cliffehaven was nowhere near the crash site – so what on earth was she doing here? None of this made any sense at all, and as she tried to sit up to remonstrate with Freddy, she was immediately poleaxed by a stab of fire which knifed through her chest and took her breath away.

‘Try not to move, Kitty,’ her brother said anxiously. ‘You’ll only hurt yourself again.’

Kitty blearily lay against the pillows and tried to take stock of her injuries. It slowly registered that beneath the crisp white sheet she was almost naked but for the tight bandaging that seemed to cover her from neck to hip. Both arms were in plaster casts and there were needles and tubes stuck into the back of her hands.

She stared down at her fingers which peeked from the plaster and noted the broken nails and the ragged scars of many cuts. Then she looked towards the foot of the bed where one heavily plastered leg was suspended by a series of pulleys, and the other was beneath some sort of cage that held up the sheet. A cautious wriggle of her toes sent a shot of pain up her legs and into her groin. She was clearly lucky to be alive.