2

Flora looked around the large table in her kitchen at the guesthouse. This was where her long-term guests congregated each day, not only for their meals but also to chat and feel at home. A large room that ran the length of the back of the house, it was kept warm by the heat of the stove she used for cooking. Flora had managed to fit in several shabby old armchairs to make the room cosier and one of her residents, the elderly Miss Tibbs, had crocheted brightly coloured blankets to cover them and for snuggling under. A row of windows looked out over a small yard and garden area, where Flora kept a few chickens and attempted to grow vegetables. At present the windows were covered in a criss-cross of anti-blast tape that she found ugly, so she had closed the heavy brocade curtains. These had originally been used in the formal dining room, but had now been requisitioned as a way of brightening up the room where they all spent the most time. Since the war, Flora had turned the formal dining room into a bedroom to accommodate Miss Tibbs, as her arthritis made it hard for her to climb the stairs to the bedroom she’d inhabited for many years. Flora’s own small private sitting room-cum-office was now a bedroom for Daisy, her adopted daughter, who was currently parading around the kitchen showing off a cardigan knitted by Rose. There was even a knitted dolly that fitted into the pocket, which, when discovered, had the child squealing with joy.

‘I unravelled one of my own cardigans after I scorched a sleeve and thought it too wasteful to throw away. But don’t look too closely, as there are a few mistakes. I am far from a perfect knitter,’ Rose said, secretly thrilled that the young child was delighted with her gift.

‘Waste not, want not,’ Miss Tibbs called out from her armchair set by the stove. The guests adored the old lady. To everyone’s concern, she seemed to be becoming more frail of late and her memory was not what it used to be.

‘Very true,’ Flora called out loudly. ‘It was knitted with love; you taught Rose well,’ she smiled as the other women in the room agreed. ‘Now, who is ready for their tea? Mildred brought home enough fish to feed us for nearly a week. I insisted she take some to the children’s home to help them eke out their rations. There’s plenty of mashed potato to accompany it if any of you aren’t so keen on fish,’ she said, noticing Joyce’s daughter, Pearl, wrinkle her nose.

‘She will eat what you put in front of her and be grateful for it,’ Joyce declared. ‘Some children would be thankful for such a tasty meal.’

A chastised Pearl apologized to Flora. ‘I’m sure it will be very nice,’ she whispered.

Flora leant close to the child. ‘I can fry you an egg if you prefer?’

Pearl licked her lips but refused, noticing her mother’s raised eyebrows. ‘The fish pie will be nice; please don’t go to any trouble on my account.’

Flora made a note not to put too much fish on Pearl’s plate. There were a couple of slices of madeira cake in the tin. Once the girl’s mother had gone out for the evening, she would share it with Pearl. She liked to treat the child.

‘Are you going anywhere nice this evening, Joyce?’

‘Derek is taking me to the cinema; there’s no need to look like that, Pearl. The film is for adults, so you won’t miss anything.’

‘What is the film?’ Rose asked as her friend Lily came into the room holding the hand of her two-year-old daughter, Mary. Rose turned to greet her, sweeping the child up into her arms and kissing her warm face. Mary was like a miniature version of her mother, with the same light brown hair and pink cheeks.

‘It’s called The Black Sheep of Whitehall,’ Joyce said as the women started to fuss over Mary. ‘It’s supposed to be a comedy.’

‘A strange title for a comedy,’ Miss Tibbs muttered from her chair.

‘Then I’d best dish up, or your gentleman friend will be here to collect you before you’ve eaten,’ Flora fussed, as everyone mucked in laying the table. Rose helped her mum to serve the pie. ‘Check the cabbage is cooked properly,’ Flora instructed as Rose lifted the lid of a large saucepan while Pearl let out a loud ‘Yuck!’

‘We can’t start without Katie and Mildred,’ Miss Tibbs said as she watched Flora dish up the food. ‘It would be rude.’

‘Katie’s on a late shift at the Ramsgate teashop,’ Rose explained, wishing her friend could have joined them. It was an age since they’d had a good chat.

‘She did say she would pop in later so we could walk home together,’ Lily said as she sat Daisy into a highchair and tied a bib around the child’s neck. ‘Rose, why don’t you come back with us to Captain’s Cottage? You could catch the bus to the Margate teashop in the morning?’

Rose was tempted. The home she shared with her husband Ben felt empty while he was away, but she had already promised to stay at Sea View for the night.

‘Go back with Lily and Katie; I don’t mind at all,’ Flora smiled. ‘Do you think I should put some food aside for Katie?’

‘No, she’s going to eat during her break and said not to worry about her.’

Flora waved the spoon she was using to serve the pie. ‘I’ll never stop worrying about any of you. Speaking of which, can someone call Anya? She took Alexsy and went straight up to her bedroom when she came home from work. I hope she’s not going down with something, as she didn’t look herself. Now, do I save some for Mildred . . .?’

‘I’ll go,’ Rose said, and she hurried out of the cosy kitchen and up to the next floor, where their Polish guest shared a room with her child. She tapped gently on the door.

‘Come in,’ Anya called very softly, ‘but be quiet, he is sleeping.’ Rose crept into the room. ‘He has had a busy day with Joyce and Pearl. They took him to the park and then down to the air-raid shelter in the tunnels. He enjoys it down there,’ Anya whispered as she gazed adoringly at the small carved wooden bed her husband had made.

Rose wondered if it was the same for all children: that in this awful war they were used to playing in the tunnels under the town, where it was safe from enemy bombs. She knew deep down that no child of hers would be born during the war; that was why she and Ben had decided to wait to start their family.

‘He’s adorable,’ she sighed. ‘Would you like me to sit with him while you go downstairs to eat your dinner?’

‘There is no need, with the bedroom door open I will hear if he cries out. However, he is like his father and once asleep will not wake for hours.’

Rose raised her eyebrows. These days, Anya hardly ever mentioned Henio. ‘Is there any word?’

‘Nothing, but I go to London tomorrow so may find out something then. I have arranged for someone to cover my shift at the teashop and apologize for not speaking to you about it.’

‘I found your note on my desk. It is my turn to apologize, as I was holding a training session for the newer Nippies and was not available to speak to you. I take it this has something to do with Ruth visiting the teashop with my mother?’

‘Beware, the walls may have ears,’ Anya whispered, looking around her.

Rose shrugged her shoulders. ‘We are safe here in Sea View. Come on, let’s go and eat our meal before it gets cold.’

Anya left the door ajar and followed Rose downstairs. She sat next to Joyce at the table, thanking everyone for waiting for her. ‘I wondered if someone would be able to take care of Alexsy tomorrow afternoon, as I have to go to London?’ she asked, glancing round the table.

‘Oh dear, I’m on air-raid duty tomorrow,’ Flora apologized. ‘And I believe Joyce is at work.’

Joyce nodded her head. ‘We are short staffed so I can’t change my shift. I’m sorry,’ she added, seeing Anya’s disappointed face.

‘Me too, I’m afraid. But I know Katie isn’t working, as she has offered to care for Mary for the day. I reckon she’ll jump at caring for two kiddies. You know what she’s like with small children,’ Lily said as the women looked at each other. It was no secret that Katie and her husband, Jack, were desperate to have their own family, having both been brought up in a local children’s home.

‘It would be a relief if she could,’ Anya said, tucking into her fish pie with gusto. ‘It is a very important meeting, and I cannot miss it.’

Flora hoped that whatever it was, it would be good news for Anya.

Katie arrived as they were clearing the table, sighing as she sat down. She was manageress of the nearby Ramsgate Lyons teashop and often popped in to see her friends rather than go straight home to Captain’s Cottage, where she lived with Lily and young Mary.

‘That was a tiring day; we had someone down from head office inspecting the teashop. Even though I know we are ship shape, it plays hell with my nerves.’

‘If it was the same chap who came to inspect us, he was a miserable so-and-so. If he’d smiled once, he’d have cracked his face,’ Lily said as she poured tea for all the women apart from Joyce, who was already on her feet and preparing to go out.

‘Now, you’re to be a good girl while I’m out and no being cheeky to Aunty Flora,’ Joyce instructed Pearl. She adjusted her hat, using a small mirror that hung on the wall where all the inhabitants of Sea View tended to check their lipstick and hair before they went out. ‘And you’re to go to bed when told to do so; you have school tomorrow.’

Pearl sighed and opened her mouth to reply, pausing as she saw Flora give her a wink and a nod towards the cake tin. ‘Yes, Mum, I promise,’ she chanted, even though she didn’t like her mother’s new man friend. She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping Derek would not be around for long.

Katie coughed for attention, waving a letter above her head. ‘I’ve heard from Jack and he’s coming home,’ she said, beaming as widely as her pretty face would allow. ‘But I have no idea when,’ she went on, looking around at the women’s questioning glances. ‘The censors have crossed out so much of his letter I can’t make head nor tail of it. Can you read it, please, Rose?’

Rose took the letter and started to work out what it said. ‘I do wish the censor wasn’t so keen to make our lives so difficult. He is coming home, as that’s in the first line of the letter . . . after that, things become a little strange. There’s something about the weather and the food – it could be good or bad; it’s so hard to tell . . . I can read this line: he says that when you are together again . . . Oh dear,’ she said, quickly folding the letter and sliding it back across the table. ‘I don’t think I ought to have read that.’

Katie blushed as laughter erupted around the table. ‘Oops!’

‘He must miss you a lot,’ Anya said, looking solemn.

The women fell silent.

Katie rushed to where Anya was sitting and folded her arms around the Polish woman. ‘I’m so sorry. Here I am wittering on about my Jack, and poor Henio . . . I take it there is no news?’ she asked, searching Anya’s face for any tell-tale sign. Anya was good at hiding her feelings.

‘Nothing, but I must beg a favour of you. Can you look after Alexsy tomorrow? It is your day off, no? No one else is available.’

‘Of course. I can collect him mid-morning, if that is convenient?’ Katie replied, not showing any sign she was upset at being the last person Anya had asked. ‘I have a little shopping to do, and then we can go back to Captain’s Cottage and play in the garden if the weather is fine.’

‘And the Luftwaffe behave themselves,’ Lily sighed.

‘They are such a problem. If I ever meet Mr Hitler, I will tell him so,’ Anya huffed.

‘God help the man,’ Lily said, making them all laugh.

Later, when the cake had been eaten and Pearl was tucked up in bed, Flora turned to Anya, who had just returned to the kitchen after checking on baby Alexsy. ‘Don’t think I’m being nosey, but . . . I hope there’s nothing wrong?’

Anya frowned. ‘Wrong?’

‘Your important meeting tomorrow, and not being able to take Alexsy with you. I hope you are not ill?’

Anya laughed airily, waving her hand as if to brush away the suggestion. ‘No, my health is . . . what you say . . . rude?’

A relieved Flora tried not to laugh. ‘You mean you are in rude health, and I’m pleased to hear it. I do worry about my residents and would hate any of you to be poorly.’

‘I will tell you if I am off colour. However . . .’

Flora frowned. There was something wrong. ‘Please tell me.’

Anya paused for a moment before shaking her head. ‘No, there is nothing. I am becoming fanciful like you English. Let us have another cuppa.’

Flora chuckled, but she could tell there was something on her lodger’s mind. ‘I’m here if ever you wish to talk.’