‘I reckon this little girl’s ready for her bed,’ Helen said, nodding at Hope.
The two-and-half-year-old was her half-sister, not that Helen saw the gorgeous, dark-haired girl curled up on her lap as a ‘half’ sibling – it didn’t matter to Helen one iota that they had different mothers.
‘Yes, yer right,’ Gloria agreed reluctantly, leaning across and pushing her daughter’s fringe away from her eyes, causing her to stir. ‘I’ve been putting it off.’
‘Because you’re having to go back to a cold, empty flat? On Christmas night?’ Helen ribbed as she hoisted Hope onto her hip; her little sister immediately clamped her hands around her neck and wrapped her legs around her waist.
‘Don’t rub it in,’ Gloria said, standing up and putting on her coat. She sighed. ‘I don’t know – I must be getting soft in my old age.’ She picked up her boxed-up gas mask and her handbag, swinging them over her shoulder.
‘Come on then, sleepyhead.’ Helen kissed Hope on the cheek.
Gloria followed Helen through the throng of Christmas revellers, her daughter’s cherubic face watching her, chin resting on her big sister’s shoulder as she desperately tried to keep her eyes open.
When they reached the hallway, Helen handed Hope over.
‘You don’t fancy coming back for a while?’ Gloria asked. She really did not want to go back to a cold, empty flat. The cold she could tolerate, but not the emptiness. Or rather, the absence of the one person she wanted to be there more than anyone in the world: Jack Crawford. Hope’s father. The man she had loved for as long as she could remember. The man she’d been forced to live apart from these past two years.
‘Yer could have a hot chocolate ’n tell me what really happened today? Yer won’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping,’ Gloria said. It had been obvious something had happened when Helen had turned up earlier with Pearl Hardwick and her daughter Bel Elliot.
‘I think I’ll stay here for a bit longer,’ Helen said, tipping her head towards the lounge door of the pub, where there was life and laughter and plenty of festive cheer. ‘I’ll come around tomorrow and tell you everything, OK?’
Gloria forced a smile. ‘I look forward to it.’
Pulling open the front door, Gloria stepped out into Tatham Street. It was quiet, and the virgin snow meant there was no need for her little electric torch. As she started the short walk back to her flat, it felt as though her mood was getting heavier with each step.
Yer should be happy, she berated herself. It had been a lovely Christmas, spent with those she was close to – and with a slap-up dinner at Vera’s, in spite of rationing. Then they had all walked to the Tatham Arms and continued the festive celebrations, stepping out and listening to the carol singers when the Salvation Army band had turned up. She’d even had the bonus of getting a Christmas card from her boys, Bobby and Gordon, both serving in the Royal Navy.
Gloria thought of Rosie with her husband behind enemy lines, Hannah, a Jewish refugee from Prague with parents in a German concentration camp, and Polly, who’d just had a baby with a man who was spending the war yanking limpet mines off the hulls of Allied ships.
If they could all keep their spirits up and a smile on their faces, then so could she.
Gloria looked down at Hope. At least Jack was just over the border and safe – or as safe as could be these days, working in an industry that was one of Herr Hitler’s prime targets.
But, Gloria thought as she trudged towards the end of Tatham Street, it didn’t matter how much she argued with herself, she still couldn’t stop feeling totally despondent about ever seeing her lover again, never mind Hope ever having a father in her life.
Reaching the T-junction at the top of the street, Gloria turned left into Borough Road. Crossing over, she kept her eyes on the ground, not wanting to slip and fall with Hope in her arms. The snow on this stretch of road leading into town had been churned up by traffic, making it a mix of slush and ice.
Reaching the pavement on the other side, which, thanks to the lack of footfall, was still carpeted in a thick white layer of snow and unspoilt, Gloria’s attention was caught by the outline of a figure standing outside the entrance to her flat. A dark, man’s figure. He had his back to her. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder.
Gloria slowed her pace.
As though sensing her approach, the man turned round, causing Gloria to stop dead in her tracks.
It couldn’t be? Could it?
Was her mind playing tricks on her? Did she want this so much her mind had fabricated it?
‘Gloria!’ Jack’s voice sounded out loud and clear as he dumped his bag in the snow and strode towards her. ‘Hope!’ The joy in his voice was undisguised.
Gloria stood immobile, unable to speak as the man she loved reached them and wrapped his arms around them.
‘Jack! Oh, Jack!’ Gloria’s voice was muffled. She could feel her heart thumping against her chest. ‘I can’t believe it!’ She looked up, needing to see him, to be reassured that this was not a dream.
She watched as Jack stepped back and took Hope, kissing her on the head and lifting her high in the air.
‘My beautiful little girl!’ He smiled up at his daughter and spun her round.
It was only when Gloria heard Hope’s tired but excited little voice cry out ‘Daddy!’ that she knew this was for real.
Only then did the tears start tumbling down her face.
The initial rush of euphoria Gloria felt was quickly pushed aside by fear and panic. She blinked to clear her vision, which had become blurred by the sudden onset of tears at seeing Jack and watching him with his daughter. Hope’s shrieks of joy and excitement were filling the air, breaking the silence of this unforgettable Christmas night.
‘What yer doing here, Jack?’ Gloria asked, furtively looking up and down the street. The rapture in her face was gone, anxiety now at the fore. ‘Yer shouldn’t be here. What if someone sees you? What if Miriam finds out?’ Jack’s wife had blackmailed them after finding out about their affair, threatening to expose some of the women welders’ secrets should Jack ever return to his hometown.
‘Don’t worry,’ Jack was quick to reassure her as he lowered a giggling Hope back down, ‘it’s all right. Everything’s been sorted.’
Gloria pushed her curly brown hair away from her face and looked around, still terrified that someone might come out and clock them. Clock Jack. With Hope in his arms. Outside her flat. Then shoot across to the other side of the Wear and sell them out to Miriam.
‘Let’s get inside!’ She hurried to the top of the steps to her flat, quickly scanning the street before clomping down to her front door. Jamming the key into the lock and pushing open the door, she flicked on the light and ushered Jack inside. He ducked slightly, at the same time kissing the top of his daughter’s head. As soon as they were over the threshold, Gloria closed the door and dropped the latch. Only then did she allow herself a sigh of relief. They were safe. Away from prying eyes.
‘What on earth possessed yer to come back?’ Gloria said, taking off her coat and automatically going over to the electric gas fire and switching it on. She turned to see Jack gently putting Hope down; he was smiling as he ruffled her mop of raven hair.
Gloria walked towards the man she still couldn’t quite believe was here as he put his hand out and pulled her close, kissing her gently at first and then with more passion.
‘It’s safe,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have taken the risk otherwise. Trust me.’ He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, savouring the feel of her lips on his. Her mouth tasted of sweet berries. Port. Her favourite tipple.
Gloria gave up trying to question him, believing him, knowing he would never put others in danger to satiate his own selfish needs. She kissed him back. The feel of his lips reassuring her that this was real. That he really was here.
‘Daddy!’
They both looked down to see Hope staring up at them, her hand grasping Jack’s trouser leg as she started to tug it.
‘Come here, my gorgeous little girl.’ Jack let go of Gloria and reached down. ‘My, my, someone’s grown up since I saw them last.’ He picked Hope up again and kissed her little button nose, causing her to scrunch up her eyes and giggle. ‘Two years. Two whole years.’
Gloria heard sadness and a shred of bitterness. Hope had just been six months old when he had last seen her.
‘Daddy,’ Hope said again, as though practising a new word. A word she had only ever spoken into the receiver of a black Bakelite phone.
‘Aye … Daddy …’ Jack suddenly felt his throat constrict with emotion.
Hope’s face creased into a smile and she touched his face with one hand.
Gloria felt the tears welling up.
‘I’ll tell yer what – ’ Jack looked at Gloria and then back at his daughter ‘ – why don’t I read yer a bedtime story, eh?’
Gloria looked at Hope and pulled a happy face, mouthing the word ‘story’.
‘Story!’ Hope clapped her hands together.
A wide smile spread across Jack’s face and he took a step towards Gloria and kissed her again. Nothing, he vowed silently, would ever part them again. Nothing.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy in my entire life,’ he said, his eyes glistening with the sting of tears.
‘Nor me,’ Gloria said, as she kissed him back.
Gloria watched as Jack read Hope her favourite bedtime story, Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Two Bad Mice. It had become her favourite after they’d been forced to spend the last air raid with a rather frantic mouse that had been scurrying around in Mr Brown’s Anderson shelter.
Looking at Jack, Gloria saw the physical changes the past two years had brought: his hair was more grey than black and his face looked tired and weather-beaten, but physically he seemed strong, certainly more muscular than when she had seen him last on that awful day when they’d been forced to say a rushed farewell in the porch of St Peter’s Church.
Gloria looked at Hope. Her dark lashes were lowering as she tried desperately to stay awake. Jack’s voice was soft as he relayed the mice’s tale of mischief in the doll’s house, knowing that the lilting rhythm of the words would soon send his daughter into a deep slumber.
Sensing her eyes on him, Jack glanced back at Gloria and winked before turning another page of the hardback book. Gloria noticed how full of life he seemed.
At the familiar sound of her daughter’s gentle snoring, Gloria stood up, careful not to make any noise. Jack followed, putting the storybook down on the stool by Hope’s cot and tiptoeing out of the room.
As soon as they were in the hallway, Jack pulled her close and they kissed. This time for longer. And without interruption.
‘God, I’ve missed you,’ Jack murmured.
‘Please – tell me yer here to stay? For good?’ she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
‘I’m here to stay,’ Jack reassured. ‘For good.’
Gloria kissed him again, curious to know more, but not wanting to talk. They had spoken on the phone so much since Jack’s exile, she suddenly felt tired of words. She only wanted the feel of his mouth on hers and his body pressed against her own.
Sensing her passion, Jack looked at Gloria. ‘I’ve waited two years for this moment,’ he said, his breathing becoming heavy. ‘I don’t want to wait another minute.’
‘Me neither,’ Gloria said.
And with that she took his hand and led him into the bedroom.
After making love, Gloria and Jack lay in each other’s arms, simply holding one another, enjoying the feel of each other’s bare skin and the warmth of their bodies.
‘So …’ Gloria said, kissing Jack’s bare shoulder ‘… tell me, tell me everything. How come I’ve got yer back? I’m guessing it’s got something to do with Helen?’
‘Aye,’ Jack said. ‘She rang me from the old man’s house and told me I could come back home.’
Gloria knew that Helen and Miriam had gone to Mr Havelock’s for Christmas dinner.
‘Thank God I offered to work Christmas Day – she’d have had a job getting hold of me otherwise.’ He looked at Gloria. ‘She told me that Bel ’n Pearl had turned up out of the blue. All she said was that I had to trust her – that she’d tell me everything later, but that I could come back.’
‘It must have been something big for Miriam to allow yer to return,’ Gloria said.
Jack blew out air.
‘Allow.’ He repeated the word with undisguised resentment. ‘That woman has been ruling our lives for too long.’ Gloria knew Jack wasn’t just thinking about his banishment to the Clyde, but about the fact that Miriam had lied and manipulated him into marrying her all those years ago, pretending she was pregnant to get him down the aisle and then telling him she’d had a miscarriage, by which time it was too late – he had a ring on his finger and an invisible shackle around his ankle.
‘Well,’ Gloria said, snuggling up to him, ‘all should be revealed tomorrow when Helen comes round.’
Gloria smiled as Jack switched off the light and pulled her close. No wonder Helen hadn’t wanted to come back to the flat. She’d known Jack would be waiting for her. She had done well to hide her excitement. It had been Helen’s mission for a long time to get Jack back – to put right the wrong she felt partly responsible for – so that Hope could finally have her daddy home where he belonged.
Her final thought as sleep came was that Helen too would now have her father back in her life – something, Gloria knew, that would mean the absolute world to her.