Queenie was almost dreading seeing Les Clark again. The last time he had come to Dover, he had said, ‘Didn’t you tell me you’d a weekend pass coming up? I’ve been thinking about it, so why don’t you come home with me? I’m sure you’d like to see South Norwood again, wouldn’t you?’
The unexpectedness of it had taken her aback. ‘I . . . I don’t know. I . . . I’ve never thought about it.’
He had smiled understandingly. ‘Start thinking, then. You have till Monday of next week to make up your mind, because I won’t see you again before that.’
She had given the matter considerable thought and decided that she would like to see her old home area again, but she knew that Gracie would be appalled at the idea of her going away alone with a boy, even at twenty years old. She didn’t need to say anything about it, of course. Lots of the girls she knew went off on ‘dirty weekends’ without telling their mothers, and she and Les weren’t contemplating anything like that. But she had to tell Gracie where she was going in case she made a slip next time she went home. It would sound much worse if it came out like that, as if she really had something to hide. Her heart gave a skip as she remembered that her aunt was still under the impression that the old school friend she’d met at Padgate was a girl. If she wrote that she was going to South Norwood with her friend, Gracie would be none the wiser.
When she next met Les he drew her arm through his. ‘Is there anywhere special you want to go?’
‘Just for a walk. It’s too hot to be inside. It’s never as hot as this in Aberdeen in June.’ She gave a tiny chuckle as she added, ‘Not even in July or August.’
‘I’ve heard some of the boys at the drome speaking about the frozen north. They’d been at Wick. Is that anywhere near Aberdeen?’
‘No. I’m not sure how far away it is, but the nearest drome to Aberdeen is Dyce.’
They strolled along for some time, letting the heat spread through them and, as they looked out across the Channel, so calm that it reflected the sun like a mirror and the sky so clear that they could make out the coast of France, Queenie said, ‘It’s difficult to believe the Germans are over there, it looks so peaceful.’
‘It could change in a second,’ Les warned, then pulled her to a halt. ‘Well, have you decided?’
She needed no explanation. ‘I’d like to see South Norwood again, but I don’t know if I should go.’
‘Why not? Are you afraid of me?’
‘It’s not that. My aunt would be horrified if she thought I was going away for a weekend with a boy . . .’ Queenie smiled suddenly. ‘But she thinks you’re a girl.’
Les thought this was extremely funny and she broke into his laughter rather apprehensively. ‘Would you think it was terrible of me if I didn’t tell her?’
‘I wouldn’t think it was terrible but I’d rather you told her the truth.’
‘If I do, she’ll forbid me to go.’
‘But you’re old enough . . .’ He broke off with a shrug. ‘You feel obligated to her, I suppose, when she’s taken care of you since your parents were killed. I don’t like deception, but if that’s the only way . . . promise me you’ll tell her when you go home, though. If she sees you’ve come to no harm and you’ve enjoyed yourself, she might not be so angry.’
‘I promise.’ Queenie crossed her fingers under the table. She probably would keep her promise, but . . .
‘Will I write and tell my mum you’re definitely going?’
‘Yes, I’m definitely going.’
Les whirled her round and gave her a kiss, then they carried on walking towards the castle which Queenie often thought of as a sentinel keeping guard from the top of the cliffs. In a few moments, however, he stopped again and lay down on the grass, pulling her into the crook of his arm. She nestled up to him in great contentment as he told her again how much he loved her, and when he suddenly murmured, ‘Darling, there’s something I have to ask you and I hope it won’t upset you. How do you feel about Neil now?’
She laid her hand over his. ‘That’s all over, and I never loved Neil like I love you. I was so young, I didn’t know what love was, but I do now. It’s an ache inside me, but it’s not painful, it’s the most wonderful feeling I ever had. I can’t explain the difference between how I felt about Neil and how I feel about you. It’s like trying to compare saccharine and sugar. Saccharine’s quite adequate until you taste sugar. Does that make any sense to you?’
‘It makes me happy, darling, whether it’s sense or not.’
‘Neil’s just a cousin to me . . . no, he’s a brother to me. I hardly ever think of him at all, except when Gracie mentions him in a letter.’
‘I shouldn’t have said he wasn’t much of a man. I didn’t know him, and I’d no right to pass judgement on him.’
‘It made me think, though, and I’ve realised that what we felt for each other was only cousinly affection. I’ll always think fondly of him but that’s all, so there’s no need for you to be jealous. I’m glad that he’s happy with his wife.’
‘Could you be happy as my wife?’
Laughing a little, she pretended to consider for a moment. ‘I think so,’ she began, then realised that he was regarding her seriously. ‘You know I’d be happy, deliriously happy.’
She got no chance to say anything more, because Les kissed her exuberantly then wrapped her in a bear hug that almost left her breathless. Some time later, he said, ‘I’ve dreamt about this for weeks, and I wanted to find out how you felt before I took you home with me.’
Les had to leave fairly early in order to get back to his camp in time, and Queenie thought over what she had said to him. It had come out without thinking, but it was true. She did think of Neil as a brother again, as he probably thought of her as a sister. Nothing much had happened between them, in any case, they had gone crazy for a while, that was all. The war, separation, growing up, it was as simple as that to explain it, but it was all over, thank goodness, because it had been very painful while it lasted.
She studiously avoided having to tell an outright lie when she wrote her letter home that night.
Dear Auntie Gracie,
Once again, thank you for your letter. I’m glad that Patsy and Jake have changed their minds about looking for somewhere else to live, for the time being, anyway. You would have missed them if they’d moved out.
Hetty will be relieved that Raymond writes regularly, but I agree with you that she must be heartbroken about never hearing from Olive. Has nobody any idea yet of why she left so suddenly? I thought it was because Neil had married Freda, but I remember you saying that there must be more to it than that. I don’t suppose we shall ever know, unless she comes back.
Speaking about Neil and Freda, please give them my regards next time you write, and tell them I’m waiting to hear that I’m an aunt. Of course I won’t really be an aunt, just a second cousin, is that right, or should it be a cousin once removed? I don’t know, do you?
Do you remember the school friend I told you about? Our postings weren’t too far apart so we see each other occasionally, and we’re going to South Norwood together next weekend. I’m really looking forward to it and I’ll tell you all about it when I come home next month.
Give Uncle Joe my love and don’t worry about me. I’m keeping very well and enjoying my work.
Love to everyone, Queenie
After being somewhat timid about how she would be received by Mr and Mrs Clark, Queenie was delighted when Les’s mother said, ‘We’ve heard so much about you from Les, I was dying to meet you, and now I can see why he raves about you.’
Her husband’s grin, so like his son’s, made her feel even more at ease. ‘I’d no idea Les was such a good judge, but he must take after his father. I married the prettiest girl on this side of the Thames.’ He threw an arm round his wife’s waist and squeezed her, roaring with laughter as she shoved him away. ‘Stop your teasing, Bert Clark. Sit down, Queenie, and pay no heed to him.’
The girl did as she was told, studying the two men as they stood together at the side of the fireplace. They were not really alike, but there was a resemblance, and it was easy to see that they were father and son. The older man was not quite so tall, he was a little stouter and his hair was more sandy than ginger, although it could have been brighter when he was younger. Queenie concentrated her attention on his wife now. Mrs Clark was a tiny woman with short fair hair but Les had inherited her bright blue eyes and long sweeping eyelashes.
After a cup of tea and some sandwiches, Les took Queenie out and as they walked up Malden Avenue, past the terraced houses, all identical and built in the early thirties, so Mr Clark had told her, he said, ‘That wasn’t too bad, was it? I could see Mum and Dad liked you.’
She giggled. ‘I like them, too. They remind me of Gracie and Joe, in a way. Not in looks but . . . maybe it was the way your mum reacted to your dad’s teasing.’ Les was silent for so long that she wondered if she had said something to annoy him, but he burst out, ‘I meant to say this in the train and I didn’t have the courage but the shops’ll be shut tomorrow and we’ll have to do it today.’ He laughed at her bewildered expression. ‘I want to buy you an engagement ring.’
‘Oh!’
‘I want everyone to know that we love each other.’
A warmth pervading her whole body, Queenie murmured, ‘I’d like that. All right, where do we go?’
He took her to a jeweller in Croydon, where the owner, a bearded Jew, was as attentive to them as if they were buying the most expensive item in his shop, although Les had warned him that he couldn’t afford anything expensive. Queenie did not take long to make up her mind and when they came out on to the pavement again, Les said, ‘What about going to see where you used to live? It would be like telling your mum and dad, wouldn’t it?’
His thoughtfulness made a lump come in her throat but she managed to hold back her tears until they were gazing at the heap of rubble which was all that remained of her old home. ‘I shouldn’t have made you come,’ Les sighed. ‘I didn’t know it would be as bad as this and I’ve only upset you.’
‘I’m not upset, just sad that they never knew you.’ Wiping her eyes resolutely, she picked up a jagged piece of wood bearing the inscription DONALD OGIL. ‘It’s part of the sign that used to be over the door of the shop,’ she whispered, a little tremulously. ‘Donald Ogilvie, Newsagent, it said, but the rest of it’s likely buried underneath somewhere.’
‘We’d better leave now, darling. It’s too much for you.’
‘Give me a few more minutes.’ Her voice broke as she went on, ‘Mum, Dad, I want to introduce you to Les Clark. He’s the boy I used to tell you about when I was at St Mark’s. We’ve just got engaged but when we get married and have our own house, I’m going to put this piece of your sign on our wall, so I’ll never forget you. Not that I ever would, but it’s nice that I’ll have something of you to keep. I’m very happy and I hope you are happy for me.’ She turned to her fiancé again. ‘All right, we can go now.’
As they walked up the street again, she said, ‘You won’t mind if I put this on our wall?’
‘Of course I won’t mind. I’m glad you thought of it.’
‘Oh, Les, we are going to be happy, aren’t we?’
‘We’ll be the two happiest people on earth.’
‘I’ll wait till I go home before I tell Gracie. I want to tell her properly, I think I owe her that.’ Brightening, she added, ‘We can invite her and Joe to the wedding.’
‘You’re a forward little minx,’ he teased, grinning. ‘Who said anything about a wedding? No, I’ll be serious. If I can get my leave to coincide with yours we could arrange to be married then.’
‘Let me have a few days at home first.’
‘You’re looking very chipper,’ Joe remarked, as Queenie went in. ‘Being at Dover seems to suit her, doesn’t it, Gracie?’
‘She’s thinner,’ his wife protested. ‘I’ll bet she hasn’t been eating properly. Never mind, I’ll soon fatten her up.’
‘She’s not a heifer,’ Joe laughed, ‘and girls don’t want to be fat.’
‘I hope it wasn’t going to South Norwood that upset you,’ Gracie said, eyeing the girl with some concern. ‘I said to Joe it wasn’t a good idea.’
Queenie burst out laughing. ‘If you let me get a word in, I’ll tell you that it was a very good idea, but I think I’d better explain something first.’
Tutting, Gracie set a plate down in front of her. ‘You can explain whatever it is after you’ve eaten your breakfast.’
‘I want to do it before Joe goes out. It won’t take long. I didn’t tell you the whole truth before . . . the school friend was a boy, not a girl.’
Joe kept waiting for further explanation, but Gracie said, sharply, ‘Do you mean you were away for a weekend with a boy and didn’t tell me?’
‘We were staying with Les’s parents, but I didn’t like to say anything before, in case you were angry.’
‘I would have been angry . . . I am angry, and disappointed in you. I didn’t think you’d be so underhand.’
‘Let her finish, Gracie,’ Joe put in. ‘I can tell there’s something else she wants to say.’
‘We were going out together as much as we could before he took me to meet his mum and dad, and . . .’ Queenie paused. ‘I didn’t like going behind your back, but . . .’
Gracie smiled suddenly. ‘Well, it’s done now, and at least the laddie’s mother and father were there to see he didn’t take any liberties with you, so we’ll say no more about it.’
‘I’ve something else to tell you, though.’ Queenie’s eyes were dancing at the prospect of surprising her aunt further. ‘When we were there, we got engaged. Look.’ She held up her left hand.
Gracie could barely see the row of tiny sapphires through her tears, but she jumped up to hug the girl. ‘Oh, I’m very pleased for you. I know it was hard on you when Neil married Freda, and I’ve wished you would find somebody else. What’s his name?’
‘Leslie Clark, but he’s always called Les. He’s very nice. He towers above me, though he used to be shorter than I was, and he fought the big boys who tormented me. He was always a good friend, sticking up for me if anyone picked on me, but I never dreamed . . .’ Lifting her hand, she took another long look at her ring. ‘I’m really and truly happy. I never knew love could be like this.’
Sniffing surreptitiously, Joe said, ‘I just hope he’s good enough for you. All we want is your happiness. But I’ll have to go now, I’m late as it is.’
Gracie sighed when her husband went out. ‘I suppose you’ll be getting married soon and leaving us for good?’
The girl’s radiance faded a fraction. ‘On Saturday.’
‘This Saturday? But not in Aberdeen?’
‘Oh, Auntie Gracie, I know you’re hurt, but we don’t want to wait any longer and waste our lives and Mr and Mrs Clark insisted that the wedding should be there. I didn’t write to tell you, because I wanted to see you and tell you properly. I’ll never forget what you and Joe have done for me. I know the sacrifices you had to make to keep me at the varsity . . .’
‘It wasn’t a sacrifice, don’t ever think that, for I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood.’
Swallowing, Queenie said, ‘I know that and I’d like you to see me being married. Will you come?’
‘I’ll think about it but you haven’t given us much time.’
Joe didn’t need to think about it when he was told later. ‘Of course we’ll go,’ he grinned. ‘Our last chickabiddy? We missed Neil’s wedding so we’re not missing Queenie’s.’
She flung her arms round his neck. ‘Oh, Uncle Joe. That’s made me feel like a real daughter to you.’
Embarrassed, he mumbled, ‘I’ve always thought of you as a real daughter, lass.’
As her niece turned round to hug her, too, Gracie said, ‘I can’t say I did, not at first, but I have for years now.’
Queenie gave a contented sigh. ‘No other girl could be as lucky as me – I’ve had two sets of loving parents.’