True to her word, Deedee stayed behind when Pearl, Thea and Jenny left for Fenthorpe Hall later that evening. The three friends had popped in to the Gatehouse to see her and promised to return to tell her how the meeting had gone.
‘Are you sure you won’t come with us?’ Pearl asked as she pulled on her greatcoat to protect her from the icy wind.
Deedee shook her head. ‘I don’t want to create any awkwardness if any others aren’t happy for me to join in. They could hardly say so to my face, could they?’
‘I don’t know,’ Thea said with a grin. ‘You never seemed to have a problem creating awkwardness before. I’ll never forget you marching into school to tell off Miss Oldhurst for giving me a D for my essay on Dickens.’
‘That woman had no right to mark you down simply because you didn’t share her opinions. And Dickens’ heroines are insipid. It made me so cross that those women were being held up as examples to all the girls at that school.’
‘I rest my case,’ Thea said, wrapping a scarf round her neck.
Deedee shooed them away, then retired to the living room fireside and picked up her knitting. The truth was that the prospect of setting foot in Fenthorpe Hall gave her uncomfortable, prickly sensations down her spine. It was, after all, Tom’s true residence, home to generations of his ancestors. It had been bad enough seeing the portrait of Tom’s father in the Haughton Newspaper Group foyer; no matter that all the family portraits at Fenthorpe Hall would have been packed away for the duration of the RAF occupation, Deedee felt that the very walls would have absorbed centuries of contempt of ‘her sort’. She couldn’t summon the courage to cross the threshold. Not yet.
The tinkle of a bell roused her from her musings; too faint to be the front door, so Deedee guessed it was a visitor at the back door. Probably a friend of Mrs Stockwell. The low murmur of voices in the kitchen confirmed her suspicion, so she set her concentration to the sock she was knitting. She had managed to drop a stitch somewhere and was so busy trying to correct it that it took a while for the insistent knocking on the living room door to filter through her consciousness. Strange. It could only be Mrs Stockwell, and she had never bothered to knock before.
‘Come in,’ she called without turning to the door, then looked down at her knitting. ‘Can you help me with this? I’ve dropped a stitch, but I can’t for the life of me see where.’
A masculine hand took the half-completed sock. A hand that was definitely not Mrs Stockwell’s. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Her heart pounding, Deedee turned her head and found herself looking at Tom. She sprang to her feet. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I know I said I would leave you in peace, but I wanted to come and apologise.’ He sank into the armchair opposite Deedee’s and gestured for her to sit, hampered slightly by the ball of yarn he held in that hand. ‘Please will you hear me out?’
Deedee sank back into the chair, eying him warily. ‘Very well.’ She pulled another knitting needle from the workbag she had placed at the foot of her chair and waved it at him as though it was a rapier and she was Errol Flynn. ‘Although I can’t be responsible for my actions if I don’t like what I hear.’
Tom chuckled. ‘Still the same fiery Hope.’
‘And don’t think you can get around me with flattery. Say what you have to say then leave me in peace. Unless you really can correct my knitting.’
‘If only everything in life was as easy. You’ve clearly picked up two stitches just here.’ He pointed out the place. ‘I can put it right in a jiffy.’
And under Deedee’s amazed gaze he did just that, deftly unravelling the work until he undid the mistake, then took up the needles and completed the row with nimble fingers.
‘Where did you learn that?’ Deedee asked, forgetting in her admiration that she was supposed to be annoyed with him.
Tom set down the knitting on the table beside his chair before replying. ‘Not long after I was married, I made the mistake of implying that my work was far more demanding and difficult than Ursula’s.’ He cleared his throat, looking awkward. ‘Ursula was my wife.’
Of course she was. Ursula sounded like the name a genteel Victorian family would give their daughter. Ursula’s family wouldn’t have encouraged their daughter to go on the stage. The only singing Ursula would have done would have been in drawing rooms. And possibly she had learned the pianoforte or the harp. The correct accomplishments for a well-brought-up young lady.
However, Deedee was burning with curiosity to hear Tom’s tale, to get a glimpse into the life he had led after Deedee had done the right thing and left him to lead the life he could never have had with her. She leaned forward, looking him in the eye for the first time that evening. ‘Go on.’
Tom’s expression softened as he clearly lost himself in recollections of happier times. ‘Well, Ursula was having none of that. She was rather like you in that respect. She insisted on teaching me to knit and darn, saying I had no right to pass judgement until I had tried it for myself. And she was right, of course. I didn’t find it easy.’
‘But you obviously stuck with it,’ Deedee said, with a nod towards the knitting.
At that Tom grinned, and the years fell away until she was looking at the man she had fallen in love with. The breath caught in her throat. ‘I couldn’t give up, could I? I’m proud to say I became a dab hand, thanks to the expert tuition I received, of course.’
For a moment, Deedee found herself regretting that she had never met his wife. She sounded like the strong-minded kind of woman she would have liked. Only for a moment, though. It hurt more than she cared to admit that Tom had not married a simpering miss that she could have held in contempt but a woman who sounded suspiciously like Deedee herself.
She swallowed. ‘What a charming tale,’ she said, hating herself for the bitterness lacing her tone. ‘Now perhaps you could explain why you decided to disturb me. I thought you said you owed me an apology.’ She knew she was being unfair. She was the one who had wanted to hear the story, after all.
If her tone annoyed him, Tom didn’t show it. Instead he nodded. ‘I do. I shouldn’t have brought up the past. That can only lead to ill feeling. I have no excuse. It was ungentlemanly of me, especially when you are my guest. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about staying here.’
‘That’s… good of you.’ Deedee wasn’t usually one to lack words, but she found herself floundering now.
‘That’s not really what I came here to say, though,’ Tom went on. He gripped the arms of his chair. ‘Look, I admit I was shocked when I saw you earlier. You were the last person I expected to find at my house. But Pearl tells me you intend to leave.’
‘I think it best, in the circumstances. Don’t you?’
‘No. I invited you to stay for as long as you need. As long as Pearl needs. I’m not going to throw you out just because we… knew each other years ago.’
There was a slight pause, and Deedee wondered if he, like her, was recalling the same vivid memories of exactly how well they had known each other. Mrs Stockwell must have got hold of better-quality coal because Deedee could swear the fire was burning hotter than before. ‘Even so, I wouldn’t feel comfortable staying.’
Tom nodded. ‘Because of me. The thing is, however you feel about me, I know you think the world of Pearl and would do anything for her. While I haven’t known her as long, I think the world of her too. I want to give her all the help I can through this terrible time, and that means I won’t stay away from her, even if that means running into you from time to time.’
‘I refuse to let you drag Pearl into this. Doesn’t the poor girl have enough to deal with?’
Tom spread his hands in apology. ‘That’s not what I meant. Of course I don’t want to give her any more trouble. Please hear me out.’
‘Go on.’ Deedee didn’t trust herself to say any more.
‘Thank you.’ He pulled out an antique pocket watch and twisted it between his fingers. The sight made Deedee’s heart swell, for, when she had known him, he had always done it when he was agitated. She remained silent, waiting for him to resume, which he did shortly afterwards. ‘The last thing I want is to cause Pearl any more distress. That’s why I’d like to clear the air between us. Not by raking up the past,’ he added, throwing up his hands again as though to ward off Deedee’s objections. ‘I just mean that, as we’re inevitably going to bump into each other during the course of your visit, it would be best if we could do so without there being any bad feelings between us. I can’t deny that the way you left without a word hurt a great deal at the time, but it was a long time ago, and I’m willing to forget it, if you’re willing to forgive me for whatever it was that caused you to leave.’
Deedee drew a sharp breath. Of course she had left without a word. She couldn’t have stayed a minute longer after discovering that he had never meant to marry her. But common sense took over before she could blurt out the protest on the tip of her tongue. Tom was right about one thing: if they couldn’t meet without sparks flying, Pearl wouldn’t get the support she needed. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘You have my word that I’ll be polite if we meet again, and we’ll leave the past in the past.’ Easier said than done, though, when seeing him caress his watch with long, agile fingers brought back memories that, while they were over fifty years in the past, could still make her cheeks burn. Thankfully, he didn’t appear to notice the effect he was having on her, and some of his tension seemed to drain from him with her words. ‘Anyway,’ she added, ‘we won’t be so likely to run into each other once I find accommodation in Lincoln.’
‘And that’s the other thing I needed to say. Please don’t feel you have to leave. I have a comfortable flat in Lincoln, and it makes sense for me to stay there rather than have to catch the bus every day.’
‘It still doesn’t feel right.’
‘But my house is available and convenient. And consider this. You and Pearl will have to spend Saturday seeking a room, and I can guarantee you’ll only get a very basic room at this short notice. And knowing Pearl, she’ll be worried about you, worried that you’re cold and uncomfortable. Whereas if you stay here, you would at least be putting her mind at rest on that score.’
Deedee could have argued with him for hours on any of his other points, but this last one struck home. ‘I’d hate to cause her any more worry,’ she conceded.
‘Then you’ll stay?’
Deedee considered it. She did genuinely feel uncomfortable staying in Tom’s house, yet she couldn’t deny that moving elsewhere would be an added burden for Pearl, and it was this that decided her. ‘Very well. I’ll stay for now and see how it goes.’
Tom’s face cleared. ‘Good. And you have my word that I’ll leave you in peace here and won’t visit unannounced again. And should we meet in Lincoln, neither of us will give Pearl any cause to think we’re not friends.’
Maybe not, Deedee reflected when Tom left soon after, but she couldn’t imagine ever seeing him without feeling a stab of betrayal. Or a lurch of guilt when she remembered what she had done. She could only pray Tom never found out, because she couldn’t imagine him allowing her to stay in his house if he knew.
Stepping into the imposing hallway of Fenthorpe Hall, Pearl was struck by a fresh wave of misery. She was taken back to the day Greg had proposed and she’d cast caution to the wind and agreed to marry him as soon as possible, deciding to seize whatever happiness was possible when each day brought the very real possibility that it could be his last. Greg had received his commission at the same time, and they had imagined that they would start their married life here, at RAF Fenthorpe’s officers’ quarters. It felt cruel that the first time she was seeing the inside of the place she didn’t know if she was a wife or a widow.
A WAAF with a clipboard addressed them. ‘Here for the decorations committee? Names, please.’
Once their names had been ticked off on the list, the WAAF directed them to the ballroom.
‘Trust the RAF to turn something fun into a boring committee meeting,’ Thea muttered as they headed towards a huge set of double doors.
Pearl shot her a sharp look. ‘Are you always this grumpy or is it just because Fitz left this afternoon?’ Then she winced; she’d been aiming for a jokey tone but had ended up sounding bitter and shrewish.
Thea glared back and opened her mouth, then subsided when Jenny gave her an unsubtle nudge. That only made Pearl feel worse. She hated having her sister and friend tiptoeing around her as though she was so fragile she might shatter at the slightest upset. She grabbed Thea’s hand before she could push open one of the doors. ‘I’m sorry. That came out wrong. Of course you’re going to be upset you’ve said goodbye to Fitz.’
Thea’s expression softened. ‘It’s fine. Really. I understand.’
That only made Pearl feel worse, though. She wanted to lash out at someone, and Thea, whose boyfriend had returned when Greg hadn’t, was the perfect target.
However, some of her bitterness seeped away when she saw the magnificent ballroom. Even in its wartime state, with windows boarded up and chandeliers removed, the pillared walls and polished oak floor retained the grandeur of its heyday.
Jenny was looking around in awe. ‘Look at the size of this place. We’ll have our work cut out decorating it for Christmas next year!’ Although she had spoken in a hushed voice, as though she were in a library or church, the high ceiling magnified her words. A huddle of uniformed men and women who were gathered at the far end of the room beckoned them over.
A woman with a single thin ring on her sleeves denoting the rank of assistant section officer smiled at Jenny and said, ‘I know we’ve taken on a huge job, but I’m sure we’re up to the task.’
Once everyone had sat in the chairs arranged in a semicircle at one end of the long room, the WAAF officer cleared her throat and introduced herself as Assistant Section Officer Annie Brown. ‘I know there are only nine of us and this is a huge room,’ she said with a small smile at Jenny, ‘but I’m confident we can make this place look spectacular for the party. We’ve been allocated a small budget’ – here she named a modest amount – ‘but, as that won’t stretch far, I’d like us to make as much as we can, including collecting greenery for garlands and wreaths. What I’d like to do this meeting is hear your ideas and then allocate tasks to you in pairs. We all work different shifts, so be sure to partner up with someone on the same watch.’
There was a short break while everyone organised themselves into pairs. Thea and Jenny immediately paired up as, although they worked in different sections, their hours roughly coincided. At the end, Pearl was the only one left without a partner.
‘My grandmother is staying at the moment,’ she said to Brown, ‘and says she’d like to help. Would that be all right?’
Brown looked relieved. ‘Of course. Give me her name and I’ll make sure she’s allowed entry.’ She made a note. ‘Now you’ve all had time to look around the ballroom, let’s hear your ideas.’
A young aircraftwoman’s hand shot up. ‘We’ve got to have a tree. It wouldn’t be a proper Christmas dance without one.’
There was a murmur of agreement, but Brown looked doubtful. ‘I agree it would be lovely, but does anyone know how much one would cost? I’ve got a feeling that would be our whole budget gone right there.’
Then Pearl remembered the day Mr Haughton had shown her and the rest of the Bombshell team around the Fenthorpe Hall grounds, back in the days when the newspaper had been for RAF Fenthorpe alone and not distributed to the whole of 5 Group, as it was now. ‘You know, I think there’s a patch of woodland in these grounds that has some suitable trees. We should probably ask Mr Haughton – the owner of Fenthorpe Hall – but he might let us cut one down.’
‘Good idea,’ Brown said. ‘You work with Mr Haughton, don’t you?’ At Pearl’s nod, she went on, ‘Then I’ll leave it with you to ask him and, if he agrees, you and your grandmother can take on the job of identifying a suitable tree and decorating it. I’m sure one of the groundsmen will cut it down for us and carry it inside.’
Great. That was bound to place Deedee in Mr Haughton’s path again. But she couldn’t object without revealing Deedee’s past relationship with him, and she was sure Deedee would hate that. With half a mind she listened to the discussion move to collecting holly, ivy and other greenery, while she resigned herself to leaving Deedee out of anything that might also involve Thomas.
Her focus only fully returned to the meeting when Jenny stuck up her hand. ‘We must have mistletoe.’
Most of the other WAAFs gave murmurs of agreement, and a WAAF Pearl remembered from her days in Flying Control said, ‘Got your eye on a chap, have you?’
‘Any idea where we can get some?’ Brown asked. ‘I didn’t think mistletoe grew around here – not enough trees.’
But Jenny was nodding. ‘There’s an apple orchard I noticed a mile or two down the road, and I’ve seen a lot of mistletoe there.’
‘Excellent. Then I’ll put you and Cooper in charge of asking the owner’s permission and, hopefully, collecting it.’
Brown went on to talk about ribbons needed for the wreaths and mistletoe sprigs and said she would buy that from their funds as she could try to arrange a discount for purchasing a large quantity. While Brown was speaking, Pearl’s gaze wandered around the ballroom, and she tried to visualise it decorated for Christmas. For the most part, she could see it looking festive, with garlands draped round the huge fireplace and on the high, beamed ceiling, and a large Christmas tree in the corner behind the band. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine any garland that would improve the appearance of the boarded windows. The boards clearly covered a vast span of French windows, which must lead to the terrace and lawns. Or what were the lawns before they had been dug up to make vegetable plots. Clearly the RAF, when they had requisitioned Fenthorpe Hall, had decided that the cost of procuring enough blackout material would be prohibitive, so had boarded them up instead. Pearl thought it a great shame. It would have looked spectacular with candles outside on the terrace. Of course, it would have been completely against blackout regulations, which were in place for good reason. Still, she could dream.
And then, just as Brown asked if anyone had any other ideas, inspiration struck. ‘We could paint the boards,’ Pearl said.
Brown frowned at them. ‘What, you mean like in green or red, to go with the decorations?’
Pearl hastened to explain. ‘No, I mean we could paint decorations on them.’
Jenny gasped, clearly catching Pearl’s meaning. ‘We could paint Christmas trees.’
‘Exactly.’ Pearl shot Jenny a smile. ‘I’m no artist, but I think I could manage a Christmas tree and some colourful baubles, given enough paint, of course.’
Thea, meanwhile, was examining the boarded area with narrowed eyes. ‘You know, I think there would be space for four trees with a different Christmassy scene in the middle.’ He eyes lit up. ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had a scenic artist who could paint something for us – a glowing fireplace, maybe.’
This led to a murmur of approval around the group.
‘I could ask Geoff Yates,’ Pearl said. ‘He does the artwork for the Bombshell. He was an artist before the war – well, he still is an artist of course, but you know what I mean. I think he’d enjoy it.’
‘But that does mean the ballroom will have a Christmas scene all year round. Won’t the officers object?’ the Flying Control WAAF asked.
‘Anything’s got to be better than plain boards,’ Thea stated. ‘Anyway, everyone says the war will be over soon, and then it won’t be long before these boards are taken down.’
And so it was agreed that Pearl would speak to Yates and the others would ask around the neighbourhood to see if they could scrounge tins of paint. Annie Brown agreed to buy anything, such as brushes, turpentine and additional paint, to add to any equipment they could borrow in Fenthorpe. Each pair, apart from Brown’s, was assigned a space to paint their tree, and the larger middle section would be left for Yates to work his artistic miracles.
However, talk of the war ending inevitably led Pearl’s thoughts back to Greg, and she felt her insides twist at the cruel fate that had led Greg to go missing just when it seemed the end was in sight. She sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze.
As they were leaving, Jenny gave Pearl’s arm a squeeze. ‘Are you all right? You look ever so pale.’
‘I’m fine.’ Seeing Jenny’s doubtful look, Pearl made an effort to smile. ‘Really, I’m fine. I had a wobble when Thea mentioned the end of the war, but I feel better now. And you were right, Jenny. It was a really good idea to volunteer for the decorations committee. It’s good to have something to think about other than… well, you know.’
Jenny nodded, then said, ‘It was an injennyus idea about painting over the window boards.’
Pearl stared at her friend, mentally spelling out in-jenny-us, by now used to Jenny’s quirk of mispronouncing words she’d read but never heard. However, Thea got there first. She chuckled and said, ‘I think you mean ingenious, although your way of saying it is better.’
‘No, really?’ Jenny wailed. ‘I don’t believe it! Now I understand why one of the Met Officers gave me an odd look when I told him I thought maximum/minimum thermometers were injenny— ingenious.’
She soon recovered, though, and chattered on about her ideas for the tree she would be painting with Thea until they were outside. She stopped and fumbled in her pockets for her torch and the other two followed suit. The air was so cold it burned Pearl’s nose, and when she turned on her torch she saw a frost was forming on the path.
‘Gosh, it looks like we’re in for a cold night,’ Jenny said. ‘I wonder if it will snow soon?’
‘You tell us. You’re the Met WAAF,’ Thea retorted.
‘It’s not as easy to forecast as rain,’ Jenny said. ‘Still, we ought to visit the orchard soon and get the mistletoe in case the snow stops us later on. I would hate it if we couldn’t get hold of any.’
‘Why do you want it so much?’ Thea asked. ‘I’d have thought— no, forget I said anything.’
Pearl thought she knew what Thea had been about to say. Jenny was clearly sweet on Edwin, yet he had gone missing with Greg. She shut her eyes briefly, battling another wave of misery.
‘I know what you were going to say,’ she heard Jenny say, ‘but I don’t mind. I know you’re probably thinking that if I’d hoped to get together with Edwin, I’ve probably left it too late.’ Her voice wobbled, but after a brief pause she continued, sounding stronger. ‘But until I hear otherwise, I’m going to believe both he and Greg will be there. After all, when I invited him, he promised he’d be there, and I’ve never known him break a promise.’
Pearl drew a shaky breath. ‘You’re right, Jenny. That’s a good way of looking at it. So’ – she did her best to inject a playful tone into her voice – ‘you have plans for the mistletoe?’
‘I do. When I heard he’d gone missing, all I could think was that I should have told him how I felt. So if… when I see him at the dance, I’m going to corner him under the mistletoe and leave him in no doubt.’