At just after half-past ten, Dr Parker was saying a chaste goodbye to Helen at the bus stop after their evening at the King’s Theatre on Crowtree Road. They had gone to see 49th Parallel, starring Laurence Olivier – a film Helen had told him she had wanted to see for a while.
In the east end, Pearl was emptying the slops from the beer trays and chatting to Bill as well as to her neighbour, Ronald, who was trying to persuade her to go back to his for a nightcap.
In town, Dor, Angie and Marie-Anne were out celebrating Dorothy’s twentieth birthday. They were presently being chatted up by three merchant-navy sailors in the Ritz.
Gloria was sitting with her leg up on a pouffe in her flat on the Borough Road, enjoying a cup of tea and writing a letter to Jack. She’d rung him from the hospital the day after the air raid and convinced him that she was fine and a visit was just too risky. If Miriam found out, the consequences would be far worse than a gash on her leg.
And at 34 Tatham Street, with Arthur and Agnes having just gone to bed, and Joe out with the Home Guard, Polly and Bel were enjoying a girly night in on their own.
Bel had commandeered Arthur’s worn but comfy armchair, with Tramp and Pup nestled by her feet. Polly was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, which she had positioned in front of the warm range. Both had hands wrapped around mugs of steaming Ovaltine.
‘Come on, then,’ Bel implored. ‘I’m ready for the latest instalment. How was Tommy today?’
‘He’s doing really well,’ Polly said. ‘Really well. He’s on about setting a date for our wedding.’
Bel laughed. ‘I bet you he is!’
She blew on her hot milk.
‘So?’
‘So what?’ Polly asked.
‘So, have you set a date?’ Bel chuckled.
‘No,’ Polly said. ‘I told him he needs to get out of hospital first.’
‘Yes, but that doesn’t stop you setting a date, does it?’ Bel looked at Polly. ‘I would have thought you’d have been dying to set a date. Come to think of it, I’m surprised you haven’t already.’
Polly just smiled but didn’t say anything. Instead she took a big slurp from her mug.
They were quiet for a moment.
‘Tommy told me to say thank you to you and Maisie for asking George to give Arthur a lift home. All this toing and froing to the hospital on the buses is definitely taking its toll. Tommy’s told him to have a rest tomorrow.’
Bel gave her best friend a puzzled look. Was she trying to change the subject?
She took a sip of her drink.
‘Have you told Tommy about Lily’s yet?’
Polly shook her head.
‘Not yet. Not sure how to tell him, really. But we’ve got plenty of time. There’s no rush.’
‘It’s a bit of an awkward one, isn’t it,’ Bel agreed. ‘But he knows about their wedding? And that it’s on Christmas Day?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Polly said, bending over to stroke Pup.
Bel looked at her.
‘I would have thought Tommy would be wanting to beat them down the aisle,’ she probed.
‘Mmm.’ Polly continued to pet the dog.
‘What do you mean, mmm?’ Bel asked, her suspicions growing by the second now.
Polly looked up. ‘Yes, I think he probably would,’ she agreed, sounding nonplussed.
‘God, Pol!’ Bel couldn’t help but show her exasperation. ‘I’d have thought you’d be a bit more excited. This is your wedding we’re talking about!’
Bel saw the worried look on her sister-in-law’s face and leant forward in her chair. ‘What’s wrong Pol?’ she asked, putting her hand on her friend’s knee and squeezing it.
Polly looked at her. She knew she was going to have to tell someone and Bel was the least likely to give her an earbashing.
She was also the only person she could really trust with keeping a secret.
Not that she’d be able to keep what she’d done a secret for much longer.