Jasper paced impatiently up and down the in-coming platform of Dover Priory Station. The train was already over two hours late and there was still no sign of it.
‘Jasper, give it a rest, mate,’ the station guard said. ‘You’re givin’ me a headache.’
‘How much longer d’you reckon?’ Jasper said.
‘Your guess is as good as mine. Trains come when they come these days. Don’t know why they bother with a timetable no more.’
Jasper sat down on the bench, his knee jiggling as he wondered how Nellie was going to react to what he’d done. But dammit, she couldn’t carry on the way she was. Scrubbing the pavement, working herself to the bone, seeing ghosts everywhere . . . He sighed and rubbed his hand through his bushy hair.
It had been six days since the tragic football match, and four since Jasper had received the reply to his telegram that he’d been praying for. Over the last week, life in Dover had been relatively quiet – no bombs and no shells at all. It had been a welcome respite, and even Nellie seemed to have calmed down a bit. She still clutched that blasted necklace when she thought no one was looking, but as she’d not said any more about Gladys haunting her, he’d let the subject drop. And hopefully, with this new arrival to Dover, Nellie might have the time and space she needed to finally get over her friend’s death.
Even so, he was nervous about how she’d react. He got up and started to pace again, hands in the pockets of his baggy brown trousers. This could go one of three ways. Either she’d rant and rail at him before accepting he was right. Or she’d rant and rail at him, then not speak to him for months. Before finally accepting he was right. Or, and this was the reaction he was dreading, she’d slam the door in his face, refuse to let either of them in and never speak to him again.
He smiled slightly; one way or another, the next few hours were going to be bumpy. No one could ever accuse his Nellie of being boring.
The whistle of a train floated towards him, bringing with it a whiff of steam. And finally, the round snub nose came into view as the train chugged slowly towards the platform. When it finally drew to a stop, he watched as the doors slammed open and disgorged a seemingly infinite number of people. Most were wearing uniform, although there were a few in civilian clothing, but there was no sign of the woman he was waiting for.
He walked along the platform towards the end of the train, the acrid smoke making his eyes water. He heard her before he saw her: a high, piping voice that brought back a thousand memories . . .
‘What a journey! I don’t think I’ve sat on a train that long since . . . Well, since I left here for Birmingham. Ooh, I were a bag of nerves that day. Just sixteen . . . Still it all worked out for the best. And me and my Ernie had a lovely place right by the botanical gardens. Do you live near a park, Sergeant?’
‘Christ,’ Jasper muttered. He’d forgotten quite how much she talked – and how high her voice was. Suddenly his grand solution didn’t seem such a good idea.
A tiny plump lady emerged through the steam, a black handbag over one arm, the other swinging a violin case. She was trotting beside a soldier who had a kitbag over one shoulder and was carrying a large suitcase in his other hand. His expression was stoical and Jasper would bet he’d not said a word for the entire journey.
‘Cissy!’ He raised his hand.
‘Oh my giddy aunt! Jasper Cane as I live and breathe.’ She hurried up to him and took hold of his arms, staring into his face. ‘You haven’t changed a bit. Hair’s a bit whiter, a few more wrinkles, but then haven’t we all.’ She giggled, her small eyes almost disappearing as her face creased.
‘You look well,’ he said. And she did. Her plump cheeks were rosy, her dark eyes were bright as buttons and she’d painted her lips a vibrant red. He wondered where she got the lipstick, but knowing Cissy, she probably had at least twenty tubes stashed away somewhere; the only thing she loved more than talking was shopping. The wartime shortages must be torture for her.
Peeping from beneath her navy-blue hat, decorated with a brown feather, her hair was orange, which surprised him – once upon a time it had been the exact same shade of chestnut as Nellie’s.
‘I’m all the better for coming home,’ she said brightly. Then turning to the man in khaki beside her, she said, ‘Sergeant Wilby, meet my dear old friend Jasper Cane. Sergeant Wilby has kept me company all the way from Birmingham. Oh, we’ve had a lovely chat, haven’t we, Sergeant?’ She fished in her bag and pulled out a small paper bag. ‘I’ve been saving these, but I’d like you to have them. A thank you for being such a good companion.’
The soldier shook his head, but she pressed them into his hand. ‘For your little Rebecca and Johnny, then. You could post them. It would be such a surprise, wouldn’t it, hmm?’
The man smiled. ‘Thank you, Mrs Ford. It’s very kind. And it’s been a pleasure to chat to you.’
‘Isn’t he a lovely man, Jasper? You are a lovely man, Sergeant. Your wife is a very lucky woman—’
‘Cissy,’ Jasper interrupted. ‘Shall we let Sergeant Wilby get on his way?’
Cissy put her gloved hand over her mouth. ‘I’m talking too much, aren’t I? You must tell me, you know. I warned you, didn’t I?’ She tapped the soldier playfully on the arm.
The sergeant smiled again, and put down the suitcase. ‘You did, but you’ve taken my mind off things.’ He tipped his hat. ‘Maybe I’ll see you at the café some time.’
‘I will make sure you get an extra big slice of cake, Sergeant.’ She beamed at him. ‘And don’t forget – post those toffees to your kids.’
‘You ain’t changed a bit, Cissy,’ Jasper said fondly as the soldier walked away. ‘You can still talk the hindlegs off a donkey.’
Cissy sighed. ‘I do try to keep me mouth shut, but people are so interestin’, don’t you think? Everyone has a story. But I’m going to stay quiet while you tell me what’s been going on. You can’t imagine how happy I was to hear Nellie needed my help. Honest, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I thought, If Nellie’s admitting she needs help, then things must be bad.’
Jasper cleared his throat. ‘About that . . .’
Cissy looked up at him expectantly. ‘What?’
He huffed out a breath. ‘I may have forgotten to mention that you’re coming.’
Cissy stopped dead. ‘She doesn’t know?’
Jasper shook his head. ‘The thing is, Cissy, you know what she’s like. If I suggested you come and help she’d just say no.’
‘And here was me thinkin’ she’d held out the olive branch,’ Cissy said sadly. ‘She never replied to one of my letters since I left and that were before the last war. I still write though. Every other month, just in case she changes her mind. It’s been a great sadness to me. You’re the only one what’s kept in touch.’
He patted her arm. ‘Nellie never forgave you for walkin’ out and leavin’ her to deal with her mum alone. And I think when you didn’t come to the funeral . . . well, it added insult to injury.’
‘I did wrong by her, an’ I’ve regretted it every day. But I had my reasons, which if she’d’ve read my letters, she’d understand. But she hasn’t, has she? And it’s broke me heart. We was as close as sisters growin’ up. If it hadn’t been for her, I’d’ve left sooner . . . Auntie Gert were a horror to me. Do you remember? I reminded her of me mum, and she hated her cos she’d stolen the man she wanted. Considerin’ Dad left me on her doorstep and ran off as soon as Mum died, she should’ve been down on her knees thankin’ her. But then, Auntie Gert were awful to everyone, including Nellie.’ Cissy laughed slightly. ‘But Nell always gave as good as she got. They was two peas in a pod. Always arguin’ and grumblin’ at each other. Only Nellie had a kinder heart,’ she said reflectively. ‘I’ve missed her these thirty years, Jasper. If it weren’t for my Ernie, I’d have come crawlin’ back on me hands and knees asking for her forgiveness, but Ernie always said it were better to let sleepin’ dogs lie.’
‘Were you happy with him, Ciss?’ Jasper asked, squeezing her arm in sympathy.
Cissy gave him a radiant smile. ‘He were the best of men. My life changed the minute he appeared at the Hippodrome. Won’t never forget that night. Do you remember it, Jasper? Oh, he were that funny on the stage. Not much to look at, mind, but then I’m no oil paintin’ meself. And he were so good to me.’ She blinked away a few tears.
‘Yeah, I remember. And I remember seein’ you two walking down on the promenade arm in arm, starin’ into each other’s eyes like you’d never seen anythin’ so wonderful,’ he said gruffly.
‘I hadn’t,’ Cissy said. ‘My only regret is that by followin’ Ernie, I lost Nellie. Ain’t life funny, Jasper. All checks and balances, dark an’ light. Still, you know what they say, you can’t have the sun without the shadows, eh?’
Jasper sighed. ‘You’re not wrong there, love. Not wrong at all.’
They stepped out of the station and Cissy looked around her in dismay. ‘Oh my, what have they done to my town?’ she cried, staring across the road at The Priory Hotel. Every window was boarded up, part of the roof had collapsed, and the once-white walls were grey and dirty.
‘Yeah, the old girl’s not lookin’ her best right now. It’s worse the closer you get to the seafront. Hey, I remember when you used to play your violin right there.’ Jasper nodded to a spot beside the station entrance.
Cissy grinned. ‘Made a few bob as well. Till Nellie tattled on me and Auntie Gert put a stop to it. But now the place looks even worse than the centre of Birmingham.’
‘You get used to it,’ Jasper reassured her.
‘You know, I had visions of comin’ back to a lovely sunny seaside town, even though I knew the place has been bombed and shelled. Do you remember the fun we used to have on the beach? The little swimming huts where us girls used to swim. Oh, they were grand days, weren’t they, Jasper? Do you remember the little man with the pompom on his hat who used to sell candy floss. And—’ She stopped. ‘Still, no point raking up the past. Why don’t you tell me everythin’ that’s happened. I were very sorry to hear about Gladys. I never knew her, but you always spoke of her fondly in your letters.’
They were halfway down High Street by the time Jasper had finished recounting the events of the previous few months.
‘I can’t believe it!’ Cissy exclaimed. ‘What a terrible thing. So it’s just Nellie and Marianne running the café, and Marianne due in a few weeks . . . Well, you did right comin’ to me, Jasper. I know how proud Nellie can be, but I’ll do what I can to help. Maybe I could play me violin for the customers, entice a few of ’em back.’
‘I’m sure Nellie would love that,’ Jasper lied, wondering again whether his plan was going to backfire spectacularly.
Cissy put her arm though Jasper’s. ‘Don’t worry about a thing. I’m sure I can talk her round. And at least we’ll all be in the same place. It’ll be fine, Jasper, you’ll see. Me and Nellie will be back to old times, and . . .’ Cissy continued to chat, barely taking a breath as they walked down the high street, until the sudden screech of the air raid siren stopped her in her tracks.
‘Should we take cover?’ she shouted above the noise.
If he’d been on his own, he wouldn’t have bothered, but he couldn’t risk anything happening to Cissy now she was back where she belonged. So, grasping her arm, he hurried her towards Woolworths and the nearest shelter.