Chapter Eighteen

Over the ensuing weeks, events around the globe added to the feeling that Christmas was indeed coming early. Newsreels showed parties in the streets of Athens after the Germans lowered their swastika flag from the Acropolis and finally left the Greek capital. When American troops occupied Aachen it added to the sense of jubilation. It was the first major German city to be captured and it put the whole nation on a high.

Doxford’s, Pickersgill’s and Thompson’s all enjoyed particularly well-attended launches, which seemed to involve more horn-blowing, cheering and joviality than normal. And POWs from the town, who’d been rescued when a Japanese ship was sunk, were given a hero’s welcome. Caught up in it all, Dorothy declared that their ‘Christmas Extravaganza’ had to be ‘the best ever’. ‘We need to show those injured soldiers at Ryhope just how thankful we are to them. For helping beat Jerry – and the sacrifices they’ve made,’ she said.

There was, of course, another reason why Dorothy was so keen to organise such an extravaganza: Christmas had never been a particularly joyous occasion for her. It was something that had to be endured rather than enjoyed. While her real father had still been at home, any festive cheer would sour by the time dinner was served and the air had invariably been filled with screaming and shouting, mixed with the smashing of plates and the slamming of doors. After Frank had married her mother, there was no drama, but not much fun or laughter either. And after her half-sisters had come along, Dorothy had found herself practically invisible. Frank had not treated Dorothy as one of his own, and her mother seemed more intent on keeping her new husband happy than making the day special for her eldest child.

Angie understood why Dorothy was so excited about the proposed extravaganza – as did the rest of the women. Dorothy might well have enjoyed a more affluent upbringing than most of them, but it had been slim pickings when it came to any kind of parental love. This was Dorothy’s chance to have the kind of Christmas she had always wanted – with the people she loved. People who might not be her real family, but who were most definitely her family of friends.

And so, with Angie happy to take on the role of second in command, Dorothy set about organising with military precision what needed to be done. Hannah and Olly were tasked with liaising with Vera and Rina, who had agreed to do the catering. Vera had also come up with the idea of putting a tin by the till asking for donations for ‘A Christmas Extravaganza’, with a little placard next to it explaining the event in more detail.

It was decided the actual buying of presents would happen later, when, hopefully, there would be more in the shops – a possibility as there had been a slight easing in the rationing of some goods.

Marie-Anne also came up with an idea that Dorothy declared ‘pure genius’ when she suggested that the soldiers might also like some entertainment. They all thought long and hard of anyone who might fit the bill. Marie-Anne said she and Dahlia could sing, which was met with some scepticism. It was agreed they could do an audition.

Martha said Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without the Salvation Army and suggested seeing if they could go round the wards on the day. It was deemed another ‘brilliant’ idea and Martha was handed the responsibility for making it happen, along with instructions to tell the band leader that they would receive a generous donation for doing so.

Polly was asked if she could persuade Agnes and Beryl to put their knitting needles to work and make anything they thought an injured soldier might want in the middle of winter – hats, scarves, gloves, pullovers. Polly said that she was sure they’d jump at the chance. Both women would do anything to feel that they were helping those fighting for King and country. She didn’t have to say why. Agnes had lost her husband, Harry, in the First War, and Beryl’s husband was presently a POW in Burma.

‘It might feel like it’s a long time before Christmas,’ Dorothy lectured, ‘but it’s not really.’

In her free time, when she wasn’t organising the extravaganza, Dorothy continued to go out on dates with Bobby. One night, walking home after an evening at the flicks, having watched a rather melodramatic movie where one of the main female characters was a divorcee, Bobby tentatively asked Dorothy about her parents’ divorce.

‘It must have been quite a scandal at the time,’ he said.

If they had been walking past one of the dimly lit street lamps, Bobby might have seen a flicker of angst cross his sweetheart’s face.

‘It was all done very quietly – with the least fuss possible,’ Dorothy lied. Suddenly, she was back in the past, with her mother just days before her wedding to Frank. She’d walked into her mother’s bedroom and found her clutching some kind of official document, looking as white as a ghost.

‘Looks like we’ve got that in common as well,’ Bobby said as they continued walking.

‘What do you mean?’ Dorothy asked, her mind still lost in the past. Caught off guard, her mother had confided in her that her divorce had never been properly finalised. There had been a minor oversight, which was now causing a major problem.

‘That our parents are divorced,’ Bobby said, putting his arm around Dorothy and squeezing her close. ‘Not many couples can say that, can they?’

‘It’s not exactly something I’d be shouting about from the treetops,’ Dorothy said.

Bobby laughed.

What Dorothy really wanted to say was that it wasn’t true. His mam was a divorcee, whereas her mam was a bigamist. And worse still, her stepfather, Frank, was totally unaware that his wife was actually still married to someone else. It worried her that if Bobby got to know the truth about her seemingly respectable family, he might not think so much of her. He was forever saying that what he loved about her the most was her ‘brutal honesty and forthrightness’. But she wasn’t honest, was she? Or forthright? She was a liar. And her family was a fraud. Needing to change the subject, Dorothy started back on the subject of the Christmas Extravaganza.

Bobby looked at the woman he loved more than anything – but who also infuriated him more than anything or anyone. Why was she so loath to chat about her family? You could barely shut her up on almost any subject, but when it came to her home life, she clammed up good and proper.

His heart sank.

Was it because she didn’t want him to meet them? Because he wasn’t ‘meeting the parents’ material?