Wartime Brides (40 page)

Frost glistened on the top leaves of sprout plants and made them look, temporarily at least, like overblown cabbage roses. Still, the sprouts were almost ready for picking and once that was done she could chop up the remains, boil them, and mix them with potato skins and bran for the chickens.

Thinking about the chickens suddenly made her stop in her tracks. The cockerel had been strangely silent that morning. Usually when she ventured up the garden path all three would be clucking impatiently, demanding breakfast before anyone else had theirs.

Christmas! It wasn’t the only word that came into her head when she saw that the wire netting was torn from its rude frame. The coop door lay in two pieces on the ground. If only she and Billy hadn’t got so carried away! In the country foxes took chickens. In the city the thieves were human.

Billy kissed her passionately when he arrived in his ex-army van to take her to work.

She pushed him away. ‘You can cut that out! If it weren’t for you, Billy Hills, we’d still have our Christmas dinner having his head chopped off tonight. As it is, we don’t even have Nellie and Martha. Even old boilers would be better than nothing.’

At first he looked hurt, but his expression brightened as she explained exactly what had happened.

‘Is that all? No problem! Trust your old Billy Hills. Christmas dinner coming up.’

Polly gave him a warning frown and wagged her finger. ‘Don’t you go getting yourself into any trouble, Billy. It’s prison and big fines for them involved in the black market.’

His cheeky grin was too much to cope with. She gave him a playful smack and in response Billy began to whistle.

What the devil’s he up to, she wondered. But she didn’t
ask
. If he was confident he could get them a Christmas dinner then that was all right by her.

On Christmas Day the sky hung grey and heavy as if threatening untold blizzards to come. Hopefully it won’t be until the New Year, prayed Charlotte.

She got up early, partly because the turkey needed to go into the oven and partly because David was coming home for Christmas lunch. The whole house was warm with Christmas cheer. The paper chains and the greenery cut from the garden contributed to the look, the feel and the smell of the place.

Edna was not too far behind her. She came into the kitchen already washed and dressed – because she’s expecting Colin to ask her to come home, thought Charlotte painfully. They’d heard nothing from him.

‘The turkey smells nice,’ said Edna without any real enthusiasm in her voice.

Charlotte agreed.

‘It was jolly nice of Billy to get it for me. A little bigger than I needed, but I’m sure Mrs Grey will make use of the leftovers.’

Charlotte smiled secretively. If everything went according to the plan she’d discussed with Billy, the turkey would not go beyond Christmas lunch.

‘I’ll start the sprouts if you like,’ said Edna, stooping to the raffia sack sitting on the floor.

‘I’d like that very much, but there’s no hurry.’

Too sad! She’s too sad, thought Charlotte, and today is going to be a happy day not a sad one.

‘First! A sherry!’ said Charlotte, pushing the sprouts from Edna’s hands and marching her through the door into the dining room.

She took a decanter and two sherry glasses from the cocktail cabinet. Then she had second thoughts, put the small glasses back and got out larger ones.

Charlotte gave Edna a full glass then raised her own in a toast. ‘To a happy Christmas and a wonderful 1947.’

Edna sipped.

‘In one go,’ Charlotte instructed, indicating she should empty her glass and setting an example by swigging her sherry back first.

Edna grimaced as she swallowed. They both laughed, and Charlotte wondered how a girl like Edna had managed to get pregnant in the first place. It was unfair to judge, but she seemed such a timid little thing, hardly the type the GIs went after.

‘I see Billy brought you a card from Colin,’ Charlotte said in an effort to sound hopeful.

Edna looked embarrassed. ‘I think Billy stole it. There was someone else’s signature inside.’

Wordlessly, Charlotte mouthed an astonished ‘Oh’ and briefly wondered where Billy had got hold of the turkey. But she wouldn’t question its origins. The enticing smell that was already wafting around the kitchen was enough encouragement not to.

‘Here’s to your health,’ said Charlotte raising her glass.

Edna frowned. ‘It’s not mine I’m worried about. I think Colin’s keeping something from me.’

Charlotte said nothing although she badly wanted to. Colin was not ill. Billy had told her exactly why he’d kept Edna out of the picture. Something else was about to change and soon Edna would know exactly what it was.

Please God it will be enough to give Colin the confidence he lost with his legs, thought Charlotte. And God, let our plan to get them back together work.

The children now joined them for breakfast. Both brought their stockings, full of chocolate and fruit, which Charlotte had attached to the bottom of their beds the night before. In the past David had done it, but since 1939 she had carried out the task.

Geoffrey thanked her for the books and the lovely sailing yacht Colin had made. It was a three-foot-long ketch, rigged and with a sweep of pale blue sails.

Charlotte saw the pain in Edna’s face as Geoffrey slid the boat over the dining room rug in the same way it might sail across a pond in the park.

Janet thanked her for the nylons, her first pair, and the make-up set that Charlotte had been assembling, piece by piece, over the past year.

The children had bought her a pen set between them, carefully saved for from their pocket money.

‘And this is for you,’ Charlotte said to Edna. ‘There’s precious little in the shops, but I bought this before the war. I’m sure it will look better on you than it ever did on me.’ She handed her a small square present wrapped in pale blue tissue paper.

The gratitude in Edna’s eyes was tinged with sadness.
‘Thank
you very much. And I made those for you,’ she said proudly indicating the pale lemon napkins that sat beside each place setting on the table. ‘You’ve got one each. I embroidered each family member’s initial in the corner.’

‘G for Geoffrey!’ shouted Geoffrey while waving it in the air.

‘And “J” for Janet,’ added a smiling but less exuberant Janet.

Edna pointed at the one that was neatly tucked into a napkin ring in the middle of the table. ‘That one’s for David.’

Their eyes met. Charlotte patted her hand. ‘You shouldn’t have.’ She turned away and said in as business-like a way as possible, ‘Now let’s get on with breakfast.’

Edna’s eyes fastened on the yellowy morass of powdered egg.

Charlotte had hardly sat down when Edna was up from her chair. Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I feel sick!’ Then she was racing for the door. Charlotte stared after her, listening as Edna’s footsteps climbed the stairs and sped along the landing to the bathroom. Meanwhile the navy blue and yellow scarf had fluttered to the floor.

‘Doesn’t she like it?’ Geoffrey asked pensively. ‘Is that the problem?’

Charlotte smiled. ‘No. That’s not the problem.’

Polly was seething. The vegetables were all done and still no sign of Billy and the promised Christmas dinner.

Carol was gurgling with glee at a doll Polly had bought
second
hand and for which Meg had knitted matching pink baby clothes.

Meg was putting the kettle on to the gas for the umpteenth time.

‘We’ll make do otherwise,’ she said.

‘What with?’ snapped Polly.

‘I’ve got a tin of corned beef,’ said Meg.

Polly sighed, folded her arms, then marched into the front room and stared out of the window. ‘Just wait till he gets here,’ she grumbled.

Just at that moment his drab little van hurtled into the street and pulled up with a sharp squeal of brakes.

Polly rushed for the door.

‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ she shouted, elbows angular and hands resting on hips.

In his familiar way, Billy pushed his trilby to the back of his head.

‘Getting your present ready.’

She almost fainted when he handed her a small cardboard box.

For once she was lost for words. Without opening it she knew instinctively what it was likely to be and what it signified.

If she hadn’t been staring at the box she would have looked up and seen Billy’s impatience. ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’

She did just that.

One single diamond sparkled in a ring of dark gold.

Billy’s impatience and fear that she might have changed her mind got the better of him. ‘Do you like it?’

Polly slipped it on her finger and admired it from a number of angles.

‘Of course I do.’

‘Can we get married in April?’

‘Certainly not!’

Billy’s face dropped.

‘June. All the best brides get married in June.’

Billy grinned.

Just then the sound of Meg’s footsteps echoed up the passageway behind her.

‘Where’s the bird?’ she asked, food on the table always having a higher priority than pretty jewellery.

‘Won’t be long,’ shouted Billy, rushing round to the driver’s side of his van. ‘I’ve just got an errand to run first. I’ve got to take Colin for a ride. I’ll bring the bird back with me. Promise!’

‘But what about cooking it?’ shouted Meg.

It was too late. Billy was gone. Both women stared after him.

‘Where’s he going with Colin?’ asked Meg.

Polly shrugged. ‘Have you got that corned beef handy?’

David was strangely placid and there was a vacant look in his eyes.

‘It’s only the medication,’ Julian explained. ‘It calms him down until we know for certain that we can trust him.’

Julian went back to his home and his own Christmas dinner although Charlotte had invited him to stay. Being
alone
with David was frightening. How was she to know how he’d behave or whether she could cope?

They sat him in his favourite chair by the window. Despite his presence and the fact that his eyes followed her everywhere, Charlotte managed to keep her spirits up. This was a truly special day. She must not allow her husband or her fears to dampen her spirits.

Edna stirred the gravy while Charlotte carved the turkey. She sliced the meat from one side only. Janet watched. Geoffrey was in the living room doing a puzzle with his father, who had hardly spoken but watched everything everyone else was doing. Geoffrey chatted incessantly.

‘Are we having the other half tomorrow?’ asked Janet as Charlotte began hacking the carcass down the middle.

‘It’s too much,’ Charlotte replied, but she didn’t explain that Billy was on his way to collect the unused half and that they had cooked up more than a meal together.

The pendulum on the wall clock swung backwards and forwards with each even tick of its mechanism. Charlotte glanced at it far too often, expecting fifteen minutes to have flown and discovering that only five had passed.

So far Edna had suspected nothing: besides, Charlotte’s nervousness could easily be put down to the fact that David was there.

She began seating everyone, David to her left, Janet and Geoffrey at each end of the table. Edna sat opposite with a spare place to her left and a laid setting.

‘Who’s that for?’ Edna asked.

‘Father Christmas!’ Charlotte blurted. ‘Isn’t he supposed
to
call today? Must be hungry after delivering all those presents.’

Geoffrey laughed. Edna smiled.

Charlotte caught Janet’s puzzled, amused look. No, I’m not mad, she wanted to say. But it was as well that everyone might think that. Soon, all would be revealed.

Wine was poured. Edna sipped it warily. Charlotte guessed she was not used to it at meal times, perhaps not at all.

David studied his wife intently as she poured. It unnerved her. She wondered what was going through his mind. She had a great yearning to look into his eyes, hoping once again to see a sign of the man he used to be. But she dare not – not yet. Early days, Julian had said. Do not hope for miracles. So she refrained from looking and concentrated on pouring the wine.

It occurred to her that she may have been unwise in agreeing to have him back for Christmas lunch, but then she looked at Geoffrey and decided she’d been right to do so. He was beaming at his father with undisguised admiration and talking nineteen to the dozen.

Janet glanced warily at her father at regular intervals. All was calm. Silent night, holy night, thought Charlotte. Again she checked the wall clock ticking the time away. Billy would be here soon …

One ten exactly and the doorbell rang.

‘Father Christmas,’ she said in answer to the enquiring looks.

She got up quickly before anyone else could offer to
go
, her heart racing and her heels clattering over the quarry tiles of the hallway floor.

‘Hello there,’ Billy said brightly as she opened the door.

She glanced questioningly over his shoulder.

Billy’s voice was low. ‘He refuses any help. He’ll get out of the car himself and come to the door. I’ve said I’ll come on ahead and that you’re a potential customer, very eccentric, who insisted we have Christmas dinner with you before placing an order. Is the turkey ready?’

‘Yes. Wrapped up and ready for you to take back to Polly. She must be frantic.’

‘Livid,’ grinned Billy. ‘I told her I’d be back with something but she won’t expect it to be bloody cooked already!’

Charlotte grinned, too, as he apologised for the language. ‘Never mind that. Follow me and close the door behind you.’

Now it was his turn to look confused.

‘He’ll have to ring the bell,’ Charlotte explained.

This was sheer subterfuge and she was thoroughly enjoying it. ‘Into the kitchen,’ she said and ushered Billy through the hall way, past the dining room door, which she had had the forethought to close, and into the kitchen. No one had seen them.

On the way she poked her head around the dining room door without allowing anyone to see that Billy was behind her.

‘Will you answer the doorbell when it rings, Edna?’