April woke early and used the bathroom before the rest of the house had begun to stir. Returning to her room, she got dressed and then pulled back the blackouts and curtains and opened the window to breathe in the salty air and listen to the waves sighing over the shingle.
It was the first week of May and although the early morning sun had yet to reach the back garden where the dew glistened, the sky was an eggshell blue, promising fine weather. She leaned on the windowsill to enjoy the vista of surrounding houses and the distant hills lined with trees, feeling much more positive about things. She’d slept surprisingly well considering the emotional turmoil she’d been through, and was ready to face this new day with optimism.
She eventually turned away from the window and regarded the room which already felt far more homely than the one back in Rosemary Cottage. She’d stowed her suitcase above the wardrobe where she’d hung her few second-hand clothes, and placed the photograph album she’d brought with her on top of the dresser alongside the vase of early blooms. There was a photograph of her father, and another of Paula that she’d found in the album, propped against the vase, and she’d laid out the rather fancy hairbrush and comb set she’d discovered in a box in her mother’s attic on the kidney-shaped dressing table. She didn’t have much, but it was all she needed.
The house was slowly coming to life, the sound of footsteps overhead and on the stairs telling her that the other girls were preparing to have their breakfast and go to work. She swiftly made the bed, smoothed the pretty counterpane over it and then checked her appearance in the dressing-table mirror.
She still looked pale, but the bruising was very faint, and there were no longer any shadows under her eyes. The straight black skirt had an elasticated waist, so it was comfortable, and the shirt and cardigan were loose enough to cover her pregnancy. She slipped her feet into the rather clumpy black shoes, tied the laces and then opened the door.
‘Good morning, dear,’ trilled Cordelia from her own bedroom door. ‘My goodness, you look as if you’ve had a good sleep.’
‘I did, thank you, Mrs Finch.’
Bright blue eyes twinkled up at her. ‘My girls all call me Grandma,’ she said. ‘And I hope you will too, dear. Now, could I just get you to help me balance down these stairs, I’m always a bit unsteady first thing in the morning when I have so much to carry down.’
April realised she was laden with a knitting bag, a gas-mask box, a handbag and walking stick. She took charge of the handbag and box by hooking their straps over her shoulder, tucked the knitting bag under her arm and then took Cordelia’s soft, gnarled hand. Making certain she was holding tight to the banisters, they slowly descended.
‘These stairs must be a bit of a trial for you,’ she said as they finally reached the hallway.
‘Not at all, dear,’ Cordelia said. ‘I only use them twice a day – and if I’ve forgotten something, one of the girls will always run up and get it for me.’ She chuckled as she headed for the kitchen. ‘There are some advantages to being old, as you will no doubt discover one day, and with so many willing young legs able to run about after me, I’m treated like a queen.’
April smiled as she followed her. Cordelia certainly seemed to enjoy her regal status, and she couldn’t blame her, for who wouldn’t revel in being cherished?
Peggy turned from the cooking range as they entered the room and shot them both a warm smile. ‘Good morning,’ she said brightly. ‘It’s going to be a lovely day by the look of it, and the chickens have come up trumps, so we’ve all got an egg this morning.’
April smiled back and settled Cordelia at the table, placing her bags and things by the fireside chair. She returned the greetings from the girls who were already tucking into their boiled egg, bread and tea, and gave a shy smile to Ron who was slathering margarine onto a doorstep-sized slice of wheatmeal toast. Queenie was lapping at a saucer of milk while Harvey was sitting eagle-eyed by the table waiting for someone to notice he needed a tit-bit or three to supplement his own breakfast and get him through the morning.
‘Sit down, dear,’ said Peggy. ‘And eat that before it gets cold.’
April slid into the empty chair next to Cordelia and eagerly tucked into the bowl of porridge.
‘I put the top of the milk on it,’ said Peggy. ‘I don’t know what the navy was feeding you, but it certainly wasn’t enough by the look of you.’ She patted April’s shoulder. ‘I’ll soon put some meat on those little bones, don’t you worry.’
April blushed as she chuckled. ‘I’ve always been skinny, and I doubt that’ll change.’
‘You don’t want to be taking any notice of Peggy,’ rumbled Ron. ‘She’s as bad as Stan’s Ethel when it comes to trying to fatten us all up. Though how she does it on the ridiculous rations we all have to put up with, I don’t know.’
Peggy placed a boiled egg and a slice of toast in front of April and whipped away her empty bowl. ‘Ethel has the advantage of being friendly with the girls in the factory canteen and the land girls up at Cliffe,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it about time you managed to use that Irish charm of yours to get me a bit of extra butter, or cheese?’
He eyed her from beneath his brows. ‘I got you pork a couple of months ago,’ he reminded her.
‘Yes, it was lovely and I’m very grateful, but it caused a lot of trouble with Doris, remember?’
‘Aye, well, your sister would have an argument with herself, given half the chance,’ he retorted. ‘Now I’ll be off to fetch Monty. The ferrets need exercise, so maybe I’ll be coming home with a rabbit or two.’
‘If you happen to spot a couple of pheasants who look as if they’re about to climb into your pockets, ignore them, will you?’ she said drily. ‘They’re too much bother.’
Ron gave a great, weary sigh and pulled on his poaching coat. ‘To be sure I’m surrounded by women who are never satisfied,’ he grumbled good-naturedly. ‘I’ll see if Lord Cliffe’s salmon are more obliging.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ warned Peggy sharply. ‘That gamekeeper’s got your measure, and if he catches you near the salmon ponds you’ll be in jail before you can blink.’
‘If he catches me.’ Ron winked and clumped down the steps to the basement.
April saw that Peggy wasn’t at all happy with her father-in-law’s rather liberal attitude to poaching and gamekeepers, but as it was clearly something he did on a frequent basis, she supposed Peggy had become inured to it.
‘He’s an old scallywag,’ said Cordelia, ‘and one of these days he will get caught. But the pot would have been empty many a time without his poaching, so we all keep our fingers crossed and just hope he’s as clever as he thinks he is.’
April giggled and then tucked into the boiled egg. She was going to enjoy living here.
One by one the girls washed their plates and left for work, cheerfully wishing her good luck on finding a job. Peggy cleaned Daisy’s face and lifted her out of the high chair so she could toddle about with her doll’s pram. She topped up the teacups and then set about writing a list.
‘I’ve got shopping to do, so I’ll come with you this morning. I’ll need to register you with the billeting people and show you the way around the town.’ She smiled across at April. ‘I don’t want you getting lost on your first day.’
‘I’m sure I could manage to find my way around if you have lots to do,’ April said. ‘I really don’t want to be a bother.’
‘You’re no bother,’ Peggy replied, ‘and I like showing off my town, even if it is looking a bit ragged at the edges now.’
April smiled at her and finished her egg on the last bit of toast just as the rattle of the letterbox heralded the arrival of the morning’s post. She watched Peggy rush out into the hall and return with quite a stack of letters which she was swiftly sifting through.
‘There’s one for you from Canada,’ she said to Cordelia, ‘two for Rita – from her father by the look of the writing, one for Fran – probably her mother writing from Ireland, and several for Sarah, which includes an air letter from her mother in Australia.’
She put aside the letters and ran her hands over the airgraphs. ‘And I’ve got two from Jim,’ she said softly, ‘but I’ll read them later when I’ve got a spare minute.’
‘Tell me what you need me to do so you can read them now,’ urged April. ‘I can see how much you’re longing to.’
Peggy regarded her for a long moment, her eyes suspiciously bright. ‘Thank you, dear, that’s kind – and don’t fret, I’m sure your young man will write as soon as he knows where to reach you.’
April nodded and dredged up a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure he will, yes,’ she murmured. She pushed away from the table and began to clear the last of the dishes. ‘I’ll do these while you enjoy your letters.’
Peggy eagerly tore open the brown envelope and devoured the cramped writing. Jim had been moved again to another camp further north, and his friend Ernie was also with him. They’d taken Patch along and loaded up their truck with all the comforts of their previous billet because they didn’t know what conditions they’d find at such an outpost.
It turned out the basha – bamboo hut – was all but falling down, the rush thatch rotting from the heat and the monsoon rains, and alive with fleas and creepy-crawlies. There was a fast-flowing river running close to camp which meant the mosquitoes weren’t quite so bothersome, but there was now the danger of frequent flooding as the rainwater came off the mountains to swell the river. With the help of the natives, they’d built another basha on firmer, flat ground well away from the river, and had then had to set to and repair the machine shops which were in a terribly dilapidated state.
Jim was furious to discover that the local mechanics were untrained, couldn’t speak a word of English and actually hardly knew one end of a Studebaker from the other. He complained to his superior officer, which got him nowhere, and had to roll up his sleeves and start to educate his mechanics as quickly as possible, because the workload was so great it would have been impossible for him and Ernie to get through it on their own.
The bright side of all this was the nearby tea plantation where the Scottish owner was so bored with his own company that he insisted Jim and Ernie visited him each night for what he called ‘tiffin’ and a jolly good feast served rather grandly by numerous servants. These sessions involved a great deal of home-made hooch, which Jim was convinced would have him blind before the war was over, or at the very least rot his guts.
He still had the portable stove he’d ‘won’ from a man who was in Signals, and they supplemented their diet with frequent fry-ups consisting of bully beef, eggs and tins of the Americans’ baked beans. The basha now had twin bathtubs, electric light, fans and comfortable beds, and he and Ernie had educated the native servants in the proper way to look after His Majesty’s soldiers, so all in all, it wasn’t too bad.
He loved her and missed her intensely, and although it was wonderful to get everyone’s letters and cards, and the snapshots Peggy had sent, they couldn’t make up for the fact that they were parted by an ocean. He hoped she was coping and signed as always, SWALK – sealed with a loving kiss.
Peggy smiled softly as she put the airgraphs back in their envelopes and carried them into her bedroom where she placed them almost reverently in the shoe box. There was quite a stack of them now – proof, if she needed it, that Jim had been away far too long.
She took off her apron and headscarf and tidied her hair before pulling on her overcoat. Life went on, regardless of which side of the ocean they were, and if she stopped to think about it for too long, she’d just get depressed and be of no use to anyone.
She returned to the kitchen to find Cordelia occupied with her letter from Canada, and April briskly scrubbing the stone sink while Daisy played with her doll. ‘You won’t get the stains out of that,’ Peggy said ruefully. ‘Goodness knows I’ve been scrubbing it for years and no amount of bleach or elbow grease will shift it. Come on, leave that and fetch your things. We have a lot to get through this morning, and we could both do with making the most of this lovely day.’
As April hurried out of the room to fetch her coat and gas-mask box, Peggy explained to Cordelia where they were going.
‘She’s a nice girl, isn’t she?’ said Cordelia. ‘But it’s a great shame she’s in the family way without a wedding ring on her finger.’ She gave a deep sigh. ‘I don’t know what this world is coming to, and I have to admit that I find it rather shocking, but then I’m old-fashioned, I suppose.’
‘She needs a home and someone to look after her.’ Peggy cleaned Daisy’s hands and face and sat her on the potty. ‘She’s only just nineteen, Cordelia – almost a baby herself.’
‘Mature enough to do what she did,’ said Cordelia briskly. ‘It’s a great pity neither of them showed some self-restraint.’ Her rather fierce expression softened. ‘But in times of war people do things in haste that they are forced to repent at leisure, and I agree that we must all rally round and do our best for her seeing as how her mother has abandoned her to strangers and her young man is away fighting for king and country.’
She peered at Peggy over her half-moon glasses. ‘Another waif to take under your wing, Peggy. Just mind you don’t overdo things. You have enough on your plate as it is.’
‘I’ll cope,’ she said airily. ‘But I’d appreciate your support.’
Cordelia’s eyes widened. ‘You have it, Peggy, of course you do. I’m surprised you ever doubted it.’
Peggy praised Daisy for using the potty, emptied it in the outside lav and got her dressed for their journey into town. ‘Ron is a bit reluctant about me taking her in now he knows the situation,’ she said quietly. ‘I do hope he’ll put aside his prejudice and warm to her.’
‘You leave Ron to me,’ said Cordelia. ‘I’ve got his measure and know how to handle him.’
Peggy very much doubted that. Ron could be strangely old-fashioned at times, but in the light of his current shenanigans, he was hardly in the best position to cast aspersions on poor little April. He would need careful handling, and she could only hope that his soft-heartedness would overcome his reluctance.
April came into the kitchen dressed for the outdoors, her hair brushed to a shine, and with just a hint of make-up to hide the faded bruises. ‘I’m ready when you are,’ she said brightly.
Peggy finished dressing Daisy and kissed Cordelia goodbye. ‘We might be some time, so don’t fret. And Ron should be back soon to keep you company. I’ve left a list on the table of things I want him to do. Please make sure he does at least some of them.’
‘Don’t you worry, dear. I’ll soon sort him out.’
Peggy rolled her eyes skyward and picked up Daisy. ‘Let’s get going, April. Half the morning’s gone already.’
They left Cordelia contentedly reading her newspaper, and headed for Camden Road. April was introduced to Alf the butcher and Fred the fishmonger and regaled with some of the exploits they and Ron had been involved in over the years. They continued on down Camden Road to the bakery and ironmonger’s, and then paused for a moment to wave to Rita, who was under a fire engine doing something with an oil can.
The day was bright and breezy, the salty air coming from a sparkling sea. April would have liked to go down to the promenade to see if there were any reminders of those halcyon days of childhood, but Peggy turned up the hill towards the town hall and council offices.
‘We’ll register you with the billeting people first,’ she said. ‘Then we’ll pop into the labour exchange and sign you on. You never know, there may be something you can do, even with your arm in plaster. It’ll probably be something menial up at the factory estate, mind you.’
‘Anything will be better than idling about,’ said April. ‘I’m used to keeping busy, and at least I’d feel I’m contributing to the war effort, even if it just means making cups of tea in the canteen.’
They reached the council offices and Peggy parked the pram by the piles of sandbags, telling the young lad from the Home Guard to keep an eye on Daisy, then led the way inside.
April was glad to have Peggy beside her as she answered all the questions and filled in the seemingly endless forms to be registered as an evacuee.
They emerged from the office to find Daisy was being entertained by the boy with a game of pat-a-cake. Having thanked him warmly, Peggy pushed the pram across the street.
‘I’ll rummage through my cupboards and collect up the baby clothes Daisy can no longer get into,’ she said as they walked along the pavement. ‘I know I’ve given some away already, but you’ll need to start collecting all the little things your baby will need. These things can’t be left to the last minute, you know.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Peggy, but—’
‘But nothing,’ she replied briskly. ‘They’re only sitting there going to waste, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather give them to.’ She parked the pram once again, checked that Daisy was keeping warm and led the way into the labour exchange. ‘Oh, Lord,’ she sighed. ‘Look at the queue. We could be here for hours.’
‘I tell you what, Peggy. Why don’t you leave me here and go and do the rest of your shopping. If I’ve not finished by then, go home. I can find my own way back.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ she replied hesitantly. ‘I do have a lot of shopping to do, and I promised to pop in and see Ted this morning . . .’
‘I’ll be fine, really.’
‘Very well,’ she said reluctantly. ‘But I’ll pop in again later to show you the way to the doctor’s. It’s best to register today while we’re both in town.’
April nodded and smiled her thanks before turning back into the crowded room. What did she do now? She’d never been in such a place before and hadn’t the first idea of what was expected of her. She eyed the shuffling queue at the far counter and then looked at the people stoically waiting on the hard chairs.
‘You look a bit lost,’ said the cheerful girl at the back of the straggling queue who was holding a baby swaddled out of sight in a white blanket. ‘First time, is it?’
April nodded. ‘What’s the procedure?’
‘Well, you’ve got to queue up here and sign in. Then you sit down over there and wait for your name to be called.’ She grimaced as she rocked the baby in her arms and regarded the crowded room. ‘It could be a while, but then this place is always busy.’
‘Oh, well, I’ve got all day,’ said April.
‘You might need it,’ the girl replied with an impish grin. She shuffled forward and the baby began to whimper. ‘Oh, crumbs,’ she sighed. ‘He’s waking up, and he’s bound to cause a fuss because he’s teething.’
April smiled as the girl drew back the blankets to reveal a great shock of curly black hair and a little red face screwed up in readiness to howl his displeasure – but it was the lack of a wedding ring on the girl’s finger that caught her eye.
The girl caught April staring, and her expression became defiant. ‘His name’s James Elroy,’ she said. ‘After his father – though neither of us have seen hide nor hair of him since I fell pregnant and the American army shipped him out.’
‘He’s beautiful,’ April said truthfully as she gazed at the squirming infant who was slowly becoming mollified by his mother’s embrace.
‘Not at two in the morning, he isn’t,’ the girl said wryly. ‘He wakes everyone, and my landlady is getting fed up with it.’ She reached the head of the queue, signed her name in the large book on the counter and waited for April to do the same before hurrying to find two empty seats next to one another.
‘My name’s Shirley, by the way,’ she said. ‘Shirley Ryan.’
‘April Wilton. Have you always lived in Cliffehaven?’
Shirley gave a wry smile and shook her head. ‘My home was a small village in Hampshire until I fell for this one.’ She kissed the baby’s cheek and propped him over her shoulder to distract him from his grizzling. ‘Small villages harbour small minds, and when you’re the daughter of a parish councillor who produces a baby without the benefit of a wedding ring, life can become impossible. My father threw me out, but my mother found me a place here and stays in touch. It seemed easier somehow to just stay on here once James Elroy was born.’
April knew exactly how Shirley must have felt about that. ‘So your father hasn’t relented then?’
Shirley’s smile faltered. ‘He made it plain he wanted nothing to do with me unless I had him adopted.’ She nuzzled the baby’s cheek. ‘But I just couldn’t do it, could I, precious boy?’ she crooned. ‘You’re far too gorgeous to give away, aren’t you?’ She blushed as she met April’s amused gaze. ‘Silly, I know, but I do adore him.’
‘It’s not surprising,’ murmured April. ‘He is very sweet. But isn’t it difficult, trying to cope with him on your own? How on earth do you manage to work and look after him?’
‘Sometimes it’s very hard,’ Shirley confessed. ‘But he’s worth it, even if I do have to work strange hours and put up with sly looks and snooty tutting.’ She grinned. ‘It seems I’m a scandal, and no better than I should be, but actually I’ve realised it’s only the naïve girls who get caught – the more knowing and flighty ones know how to protect themselves.’ She gave a regretful sigh. ‘I did love his father, you know. Thought we’d be together always. How stupid is that?’
April knew exactly how stupid it was, but she didn’t know Shirley well enough to share her own experiences. ‘How are you going to be able to carry on working and look after the baby with no one to help you?’ she asked.
Shirley’s eyes were suspiciously bright. ‘You’re the first person to ask me that,’ she said softly. ‘Most just leave me to get on with things and couldn’t care a fig.’ She blinked rapidly and shot April a watery smile. ‘I’m hoping to get a place at Goldman’s uniform factory. Mrs Goldman has set up a crèche for working mothers, and although the cost will come out of my wages, it’s not a lot and will be worth it to know he’s being looked after properly.’
‘I didn’t realise employers did that sort of thing,’ said April.
‘Well, they’ve had to now there’s a war on,’ Shirley replied. ‘It’s all hands on deck, isn’t it, and girls want to do their bit even if they do have little ones. Besides, I need the money – Mother can’t always help me out with Father breathing down her neck over every penny of her housekeeping.’ She shrugged. ‘You don’t get anything free in this world, so you’ve got to get on and make the best of things, haven’t you?’
Shirley cocked her head as her name was called. ‘That’s me. It’s been lovely talking to you, April. Could we meet up again, do you think?’
April saw the wistfulness in her expression and knew they were both in need of a friend. ‘Yes, I’d like that very much. Tomorrow, perhaps, if neither of us has a job to go to?’
Shirley waved her hand at the woman who was calling out her name. ‘Yes, I’m coming,’ she shouted back. She hitched the baby more comfortably over her shoulder and turned back to April. ‘Tomorrow, midday at the kiosk down on the seafront,’ she said quickly before she hurried off.
April watched her go to one of the four counters and sit down. She seemed such a pleasant girl, and clearly from a good background. How strange it was that they should meet so fortuitously, and have so much in common – even though Shirley had yet to know that. April admired her enormously, for she hadn’t hidden away from the world, but had faced up to her responsibilities with great optimism and against all odds. She had kept her baby and was making a new life for herself down here, far from family and friends.
April sat and thought about that, and wondered if she’d ever have the courage to do such a thing, for it would mean sacrificing so much, and surely a baby would be better off with two adoptive parents who could afford to look after it properly?
‘April Wilton. Desk three.’
Snatched from her thoughts, April glanced out of the window. There was no sign of Peggy, so she nervously approached the stern-looking woman behind the desk.
Without preamble she was asked her name, home address, billet address, age and previous work experience. There was a tricky moment when she had to reveal she’d left the Wrens, but she managed to gloss over it by citing a crisis in the family that had since been resolved.
She had to show her identity card and the letter confirming her billet with Peggy, which had so recently been signed by the clerk at the council offices, and give a short resumé of her skills and experience in the workplace. Even as she talked, she realised she had very little to offer – and hadn’t yet revealed she was expecting. Thankfully, that question had not been asked.
‘Your injured arm will make it almost impossible to place you,’ the woman said. ‘But I will add your name to my list, and when you’ve fully recovered, you must come in again.’
‘Is there nothing I could do in the meantime? I’ve got quite adept at using one hand, and I’m sure I could sweep a floor or answer telephones.’
The woman looked down her rather long nose and took a deep breath before she reluctantly sifted through the large box of index cards. She pulled one out and examined it thoughtfully. ‘I do have a vacancy on the telephone exchange. It’s to provide cover while the usual telephonist is recovering from a bereavement.’ The pale blue gaze settled on April. ‘Mrs Downes is expected to return to work in four weeks, and so the job isn’t permanent.’
‘But that’s marvellous,’ said April. ‘My plaster cast is due to be removed about then, and I’ll be able to take up a more permanent post elsewhere.’
‘You’ll have to be properly trained to begin with,’ the woman said sternly. ‘Running the exchange isn’t as easy as you might think.’
April didn’t care how difficult it might prove. It was a job. She’d had some brief experience on an exchange at the secretarial college, and she was a quick learner. ‘I’ll do it,’ she said eagerly.
The woman eyed her for a long moment and then reluctantly filled in the card. ‘I doubt very much if you’ll be able to manage,’ she said, ‘but at least you show willingness to do something. You’ll find the telephone exchange in the small building at the back of the town hall. Miss Gardener is in charge, and she has asked that any candidate should present themselves there at three in the afternoon when she has finished her shift.’
‘Have there been any other candidates?’ April asked breathlessly.
The woman sniffed. ‘Only one, but she was most unsuitable. Take this card and be prompt. Miss Gardener does not approve of tardiness.’
‘Thank you. Thank you very much.’
April took the card and left the counter. She shot a quick look around the room, hoping to spot Shirley, but there was no sign of her and Peggy was outside preparing to park the pram, so she hurried out to tell her the good news.
‘What marvellous luck,’ said Peggy. ‘It’s almost as if the job was made for you. And you’ll get on with Vera Gardener once you accept that her bark’s worse than her bite. She was headmistress at the local girls’ school years ago, and can come across as being a bit bossy.’
‘I went to an all girls’ school where the headmistress was a terrible old dragon, so she won’t faze me. But my experience on the exchange at the secretarial college probably won’t help me much as it was very small. I saw the one down in Portsmouth and that was simply vast. What if this one’s the same and I keep cutting people off, or putting them through to the wrong number?’
Peggy chuckled. ‘I doubt it’s that big. Cliffehaven doesn’t have that many telephones, but I’m sure you’re bright enough to pick it up quickly, and Vera will keep a close eye on you to begin with. Now we really must get you signed on at the doctor’s before he closes for lunch.’
‘I met a nice girl in the exchange,’ April said, her spirits high as they went down the hill. ‘Her name’s Shirley Ryan and she’s hoping to get a job at Goldman’s because they’ve started up a crèche there for working mothers.’
‘I can’t say I know the girl,’ said Peggy. ‘She must be new to the town. But I’m glad you’re feeling more positive about things, April – it means you’re beginning to settle. As for the crèche, that was Rachel Goldman’s idea. She’s a strong supporter of working mothers and raised a good deal of money to set the whole thing up and provide safe care for the little ones.’
April found she was smiling as they turned off the High Street into a quiet crescent of stately Victorian villas overlooking a small park. She had the chance of a job, and had met a girl she felt sure she’d get along with very well – but above all she had Peggy, and she thanked her lucky stars that she’d fallen on her feet here in Cliffehaven.
The doctor’s surgery proved to be a double villa with a wide turning circle at the front. The brass plaque was barely visible beneath the tangled branches of wisteria and clambering roses, and neatly planted flower beds edged a freshly cut lawn at the side. Facing the park and almost surrounded by trees, it was the sort of house which promised security and quiet efficiency.
Peggy plucked Daisy out of the pram because she’d started to grizzle with boredom. ‘Old Doctor Sayer retired last year,’ said Peggy, ‘but his son’s very nice, and so is the new chap he’s taken on. Doctor Bradford was injured in Egypt and his poor face is a terrible mess, but he’s easy to get along with once you can get past that.’
She shot April a naughty grin. ‘Just watch out for Eunice Beecham, the receptionist. She’s just got engaged to young Doctor Sayer, and is frightfully pleased with herself. She’s been after him for years and gave my poor Julie a terrible run-around when she worked here as a midwife.’
‘I’m assuming Julie was one of your girls?’ asked April with some amusement. ‘Is there any institution in this town that hasn’t employed someone from Beach View?’
Peggy laughed. ‘One or two,’ she admitted. ‘But I’ve got most of them covered one way or another.’
April followed her into a large square hall that smelled of beeswax and disinfectant. The floor was laid with black and white tiles, the walls were half panelled, and there was a very large chandelier hanging from the ornate ceiling. Three doors led from this imposing hall and Peggy led the way through one of them into what was clearly a waiting room and reception.
The girl behind the desk looked frighteningly efficient and was immaculately groomed. This must be Doctor Sayer’s fiancée, the dreaded Eunice Beecham, April realised, taking in the perfectly made-up face and the rather superior expression.
‘We’ve come to register April,’ said Peggy. ‘She’s just arrived in Cliffehaven and is living with me at Beach View.’
‘Doctor Sayer isn’t taking on any more patients at the moment,’ said the snooty Eunice after giving April a calculating once-over. ‘She will have to be registered with Doctor Bradford. Does she have a letter from her own doctor?’
‘No, I do not,’ said April, who didn’t appreciate being talked about as if she wasn’t present. ‘But I’m happy to be registered with Doctor Bradford, and would like to make an appointment to see him as soon as possible.’
A fiercely plucked blonde eyebrow was lifted and blue eyes regarded her coolly. ‘Doctor Bradford is a very busy man. Is it urgent?’
‘No,’ April admitted. ‘But it is important I see him sooner rather than later.’
Eunice made sure they saw the large diamond engagement ring on her finger as she handed over a form to be filled in, demanded to see April’s identity card and then turned the pages of her appointment book. ‘He can see you at the end of the week during evening surgery at seven o’clock.’
April handed back the form she’d filled in and gave her a bright smile. ‘Thank you, I look forward to meeting him.’
‘Hello, Peggy. Nothing wrong, I hope?’
April turned to see a tall, well-built man in his thirties smiling back at them. Dressed in a lightweight tweed suit and polished brown brogues, he instantly exuded a sense of reliability.
‘Hello, Doctor Sayer. No, I’m all tickety-boo. We’re just registering April with the practice. She’s my latest girl, you know.’
‘I’m delighted to meet you, April.’ His handshake was warm and firm, his smile lighting up deep brown eyes. ‘Look, I have half an hour before the children’s clinic. Why don’t you pop into my surgery now and we can have a chat?’
‘I’ve registered her with Doctor Bradford,’ Eunice piped up. ‘She’s booked in to see him at the end of the week.’
‘Oh, well, I’m sure he won’t mind. He’s very busy at the moment and it seems silly for April to have to wait when I can just as well do the preliminaries.’ He stood back and indicated she should go through into his consulting room.
April glanced at the clock, then turned to Peggy. ‘You go home, Peggy. You’ve already wasted half the morning on me, and I can easily find my way round from here.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’
‘I am.’ She smiled at her and then followed the doctor into his surgery, all too aware that Eunice was glaring daggers at her back.