Mattie added the finishing touches to her Sunday best frock: a neat red patent belt with a carefully polished gilt buckle, and a delicate brooch in the shape of a bird, with a red jewel for an eye. She knew it wasn’t a real ruby but it didn’t matter. Lennie had given it to her last Christmas and that was what counted. She rubbed it with her finger. Perhaps it would work like a charm and bring him home. He was cutting it fine, though. Word had come through yesterday that Harry would be able to make it back at the last minute, but there was still no news from Lennie. Now it was Christmas morning and there was a lot of work to get through before they could all sit down and eat.
Before that, though, she had to see to Gillian. The baby was lying in the middle of the bed, which was really too wide for the room that Mattie had called her own since she was a little girl herself. However, once she had married Lennie and it had been decided it was not worth them renting a home of their own as he would be away so often, her parents had used some of their small pot of savings to buy them a proper double bed. It fitted, but only just, without much space for anything else. Gillian’s wooden cot was wedged into the alcove where the wardrobe used to be; the wardrobe was now outside on the landing. The dressing table was snug against the window. If Mattie got out of bed too quickly she often banged her hip on the corner of it.
However, it was a small sacrifice if it meant she could still live with her parents. One day she and Lennie would have their own house, but she was in no rush. Sometimes she dreamt about it, how there would be space for everything they needed, how she would decorate the place and make it homely for him, but realistically she knew that was all a long way off.
‘Let’s put you in your lovely new frock Granny made you,’ she said, reaching down and tickling Gillian, who chuckled and waved her chubby arms in the air. Mattie tugged on the fine cotton dress edged with bias binding, added a little cardie she had knitted from wool left over from one of her own, and then topped off the outfit with a large towelling bib. ‘All right, I know it doesn’t look as beautiful as your new frock but I know what you are like,’ Mattie said dryly as she hoisted her daughter into her arms. ‘We’re going to have you looking lovely at dinner if it’s the last thing I do. Then if Daddy comes he can see how pretty you are.’
‘Da-da-da,’ said Gillian.
‘Yes,’ said Mattie with determination. ‘Daddy. He might come. We just have to keep hoping.’
Flo was already making headway with the preparations, and the kitchen window had steamed up thanks to the bubbling pans on top of the range. Gillian obligingly allowed herself to be put to sit up in the cot and Mattie turned her attentions to the vast mound of potatoes.
Joe emerged from the back kitchen with an enamel bowl full of peeled carrots. ‘Look what they’ve taught me in the navy,’ he said with a straight face. ‘No swimming lessons yet but I’m a dab hand at peeling vegetables.’
‘Get away with you,’ said Mattie, but her voice betrayed her pleasure at being teased once again by one of her brothers. She’d missed that since they’d gone.
‘Good,’ said Flo. ‘Plenty of parsnips to be getting on with. You take them back through there and keep out of our way.’
Joe knew better than to disobey his mother, and promptly retreated with a fresh load of root vegetables.
There was a sound from the front of the house, and Mattie jumped in anticipation, but then dropped her shoulders as she remembered that Kathleen had promised to arrive early and help out. Sure enough, her friend came into the kitchen, balancing a bag in the crook of each arm while carrying Brian, who was squirming around to see what all the excitement was about.
Kathleen set the little boy down on the rug out of the way, hung up her coat and set to work, chopping the carrots Joe had just peeled. Flo turned on the wireless and found a carol service and they all joined in while the pans bubbled merrily away and the aroma of roast turkey grew stronger. Stan was briefly allowed near the kitchen counter to make himself some toast for a late breakfast, as he had been on duty the night before, but he was then shooed into the parlour to read an out-of-date newspaper that he hadn’t yet had a chance to open.
This meant he was first to see Alice and Edith coming down Jeeves Street, and he ushered them in before they could knock at the door. Mattie’s head flew around as she caught the movement of someone coming into the kitchen unannounced, then doused her hopes once more when she realised that it wasn’t Lennie letting himself in with his key. She rushed to welcome the guests, but not before she caught Edith’s eyes raking the room for the one face she wished to see above all others. She’d be on tenterhooks, waiting for Harry to arrive.
Joe came through with his big bowl of parsnips and nodded politely to Alice. He was determined not to let his new knowledge about her doctor friend show. He gallantly took her coat, and Edith’s, and moved to the outer hall to find hooks for them. The place was filling up.
Flo glanced around the room once more, checking everything was going to plan, and then stealthily slipped into the parlour. Stan looked up from the old newspaper.
‘Just checking that the presents we got for Edith and Alice are under the tree with the rest,’ she breathed. ‘Yes, good, all in place. We’ll open them after we’ve eaten.’
Stan nodded in approval.
‘We should be ready in about ten minutes,’ Flo went on. ‘Stan, what are you looking at? What’s wrong – is it my hair?’
‘No,’ he said, rising to his feet, ‘but I can hear footsteps on the pavement. It might be our Harry.’
Flo took a deep breath. ‘We’ve got to give the young ones the best day that we can, so that whatever happens in the future they have this to remember.’
Stan caught her hands as she came towards him. ‘I know,’ he said, looking into her eyes with an expression that conveyed how much she meant to him. He wasn’t one for fancy speeches and so he just gave her hands an extra squeeze. ‘I know.’
They stood still for a few moments, before two figures passed the parlour window before stopping at the front door. Flo waited for the sound of a key in the lock, but Stan was already heading for the hall, eager to see his younger boy – boxing champion or not, he’d always be a boy to him. Yet instead of one familiar figure there were two. Harry and Lennie.
Flo cried out in delight, which brought Mattie running to see what the matter was. Within a second she was in Lennie’s arms and he was twirling her around, or as well as he could in the crowded hall. Mattie squealed in pleasure. ‘I knew you’d come. I knew it,’ she kept repeating, her arms tight around his neck. Finally he set her down. ‘Come and see Gillian,’ Mattie urged. ‘She said Da-da this morning. She knew you were coming too.’ Swiftly she touched her hand to the bird brooch as they went into the kitchen.
Harry followed them, Flo laughing behind him. ‘Good timing as ever, son,’ she chuckled. ‘The turkey’s ready in ten minutes. You’ve just got time to wash your hands.’
Harry turned back to her just before going into the warm room. ‘I will, Ma, I will. But there’s something else I have to do first.’ He stepped through the doorway and instantly his eyes found the person he’d been waiting to see. There she was, in the dress that he knew she kept for best, as pretty as he’d remembered her, her face now alight with joy and disbelief.
‘Harry,’ Edith said, slowly rising from the dining table, setting down a half-folded napkin. Then, more loudly, ‘Harry! Harry, you’re back at last!’
Then she was in his arms and half laughing, half crying, aware that everyone was looking at them but not really giving a fig. The one wish she had made for Christmas had come true and she didn’t care who knew it.
The turkey and trimmings demolished, the pudding and cake almost finished, Stan surveyed the room and nodded in satisfaction. This was what he loved: a home full of family and friends. This was what he had worked hard for all his life and what he sought to protect on the cold evening shifts on his ARP rounds, never complaining when people argued with him, turning the other cheek to their protests and insults. It was water off a duck’s back to him anyway. This room, here and now, was what really counted.
‘How about a little tot of whisky for those that want it?’ he suggested, rising to his feet. ‘Help that pudding go down a treat, it will.’
Joe brightened at the idea. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’
Lennie looked hesitant but Mattie said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll have her,’ and reached for their daughter, expertly avoiding the carrot-covered hands and then firmly wiping them on a napkin. ‘You have a wee dram, you know you like it.’
‘Then I will. Thanks.’ Lennie happily accepted a small glass, and Harry did too.
‘Suppose you prefer rum, now you’re in the navy?’ he gently goaded his big brother.
Joe was too relaxed to rise to the bait. ‘Not a bit of it. Doesn’t matter what’s in the glass, it’s the company that counts, that’s what I reckon.’
Flo nodded approvingly.
‘That wasn’t what you said when Pete gave us a taste of his dad’s poteen,’ Harry reminded him. ‘You were among friends then but you said it was the worst thing you’d ever tasted.’
Joe pulled a face at the memory. ‘It was, too.’
‘I hope you aren’t comparing my fine whisky to that workshy old codger’s moonshine,’ Stan protested.
Joe laughed. ‘He wouldn’t dare.’ He raised his glass. ‘To the cook and her helpers. Thanks, Ma. That was as good a Christmas dinner as we’ve ever had.’
Flo could have burst with pride and happiness.
‘Put that down, Joe – you’ve nearly knocked it over once already.’ Alice laughed as he carefully set down one of the precious china cups on the edge of the draining board. She wondered if he was under the influence of one too many top-ups of whisky. His eyes were brighter than usual, though still dark and quizzical.
‘Quite right. Ma would have my guts for garters if I smashed one now,’ he agreed, backing away a little from where she was doing her stint at the washing up. The daylight had faded and the gas lamp was lit, throwing its glow over the small room.
Alice shook soapsuds from her hands and repositioned the delicate cup with its pattern of crimson leaves on a cream background in a safer place. Then she resumed washing the rest of the crockery, conscious of Joe watching her. He seemed more intense than usual. Alice thought back to his peck on the cheek when they said goodbye before his posting and that smell of sandalwood and soap.
‘Shall I start drying yet?’ he asked after a while.
Alice shook her head, unsure whether she could trust him not to drop something. ‘I think we’ve used up all the clean tea towels,’ she said. ‘There are couple drying out now over by the oven but they won’t be ready for a while. So you are off the hook.’
‘Who said I wanted to be let off the hook?’ he said and gave a look she couldn’t quite decipher.
Alice gave a little laugh, and the thought occurred to her that it seemed the most natural thing in the world, to be making domestic small talk with him like this, in his mother’s back kitchen. She began to hum a soft tune, working her way methodically through the plates and saucers, then the cups. Joe picked up the melody and joined in.
‘I didn’t know you were a Glenn Miller fan,’ Alice said in surprise, realising she’d been singing ‘Moonlight Serenade’. Somehow she’d imagined Joe would like more serious music.
Joe shook his head. ‘Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Alice Lake. I am capable of a bit of sophistication every now and then, even though I’m not a doctor or anything fancy like that.’ He said it with a half-smile, but all at once she was aware of a shift in the atmosphere in the little back kitchen.
‘Is there something wrong, Joe?’ Alice was suddenly unsure of herself.
‘Nothing’s wrong Alice,’ he said gently. ‘But it’s hard to get to know someone properly over a library book.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ When she turned to face him properly there was an intense look in his eyes that she was certain she hadn’t seen before. She could feel her pulse rate increase and took a quick breath, her hands felt clumsy and she dropped the tea towel.
Joe looked into her eyes for a moment then bent to pick it up, handing it back to her. His face was softer now, the brief tension gone. ‘Don’t mind me, Alice. I must be drowning in all that Christmas spirit.’
‘A little goes a long way,’ she said, making light of it, but aware there was something else behind his half-joking words. She met his gaze. He held it and then took a small step towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. She could feel the heat from his body, he was so close, but she didn’t step away. For a moment neither of them moved.
There was a clatter from the doorway and Edith came in with a tray of plates covered in the crumbs from the Christmas cake. ‘Alice! You should have said, you must be nearly out of hot water by now. I’d have helped.’ Her eyes took in the fact that Joe was standing so close to her friend, but he moved away as she approached. ‘You helping out, Joe? That’s what we like to see.’ She flashed him a smile.
Joe recovered and was back to his affable self. ‘I tried, I really did, but Alice insisted all the towels were too wet, so I’ve been keeping her company.’
‘That’s right,’ said Alice, a shade too quickly.
Edith put the tray down on the counter. ‘Have you seen the time, though? Harry says he’ll walk me, us, home soon, if you like. You’re on duty tomorrow, aren’t you?’
Alice wiped her hands on the apron she’d borrowed from Mattie, a bold red gingham one with patch pockets. ‘Yes, I said I’d do the morning round, as several of the others want to spend Boxing Day with family.’
Joe raised his eyebrows. ‘No rest for the wicked.’
Alice smiled ruefully. ‘Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t mean people aren’t sick. I won’t do a full day, but there’s the teenager with TB who’ll need a visit first thing as usual.’
Edith nodded. ‘And he’s such a sweetheart, he really is. Anyway, I’m going back to the parlour. Coming?’
‘All right, said Alice, and made her way into the brighter main kitchen and into the warm parlour, fragrant with the scent of rich fruit cake. Whatever Joe had intended to say or do in that brief moment was lost forever – Alice was puzzled, had she imagined it, surely Joe just thought of her as just a friend — wasn’t that what they were? But this time, Alice wasn’t so sure …
‘Don’t wait up for me,’ Edith breathed, as Alice opened the heavy front door to the nurses’ home. ‘I’m just going to take one extra walk around the block with Harry.’ Harry was waiting at a polite distance by the gate, but Alice could tell the young couple were keen to be alone. She couldn’t blame them. He had told them on the way back that he had only three days’ leave. Edith would be desperate to spend as much time as possible with him, and yet she had to work too. Alice couldn’t begrudge her friend her night-time walk.
‘Rather you than me, it’s freezing,’ she said with a smile.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Edith confidently, ‘Harry will keep me warm. Here, will you take this?’ She handed Alice a bag holding the presents she had been given by the Banhams: a bright knitted scarf, cleverly made by Mattie, who’d managed to decorate it with a pom-pom fringe, and a little box from Harry, which Edith had opened with a gulp of delight. It contained a delicate silver necklace with a locket. ‘So you can put my picture in it,’ he’d said cheekily, and Edith had played along, pretending to tap him on the shoulder, saying ‘Don’t make assumptions.’ But she’d whispered to Alice as they had reluctantly put on their coats in the snug hallway at Jeeves Street that she’d be finding the right picture as soon as she could.
‘Have fun, then.’ Alice took her friend’s bag and waved at Harry from the doorstep. ‘Night, Harry. Thank your mum again from me.’ She could barely make him out in the blackout, lit only by starlight.
‘Night,’ he called back, as Edith ran to his side and took his arm. Alice swung closed the big front door. It wouldn’t do to be caught out by the ARP warden who’d been unlucky enough to draw the Christmas night shift. She made her way upstairs, with her own present tucked under her elbow.
They were all so kind. She sighed. One of the disadvantages of being an only child was that you never got to spend a big family Christmas. Her parents had always given her carefully chosen presents – often books – but there had been no jolly carol singing, or whisky-fuelled versions of ‘Roll Out the Barrel’, or a happy mixture of different generations. Briefly her thoughts flew to Mark, wondering if he was in a cold barracks or even a tent somewhere over in France. She prayed he was safe, at least, and had managed some kind of celebration. Last Christmas she had been in pieces, wounded beyond belief at his decision that they must separate. She had thought that she would never get over it. Yet tonight, if she was honest, the pain had faded a little. It was not gone completely – but when there was so much else going on in the world, her doomed love felt small in the overall scale of things. And if not the same kind of romantic love, today she had been shown wonderful warmth and friendship, which was something you just couldn’t buy.
‘Time for bed,’ she told herself. There was still one more present to be unwrapped. She held it tightly as she went upstairs to her room, and sat down on the bed to open it. Joe had pressed it into her hands just before she left Jeeves Street, and now she carefully pulled back the paper. Inside was a book, a collection of P. G. Wodehouse short stories. He knew her well, she realised, turning the first page, only to find an extra touch – a four-leafed clover nestling in the margin. She ran her finger over its dry shape, wondering what were the odds of this happening – since she had bought a book for Joe, and in it she too had tucked a four-leafed clover.
Mattie started as a door banged in the darkness. It took a moment before she remembered what day it was. For a fleeting second she thought the war hadn’t happened and she was safe in Lennie’s arms on one of his usual leaves. Then it all came flooding back. She shifted slightly and the bed gave a creak.
‘Whassappenin,’ Lennie murmured.
‘Nothing, go back to sleep,’ said Mattie softly. ‘Just a door.’
‘Bet that’ll be Harry,’ said Lennie. ‘He went to walk the nurses home and never come back. He’ll have been with that one he’s sweet on, I bet you any money.’
Mattie gave a quiet giggle. ‘I dare say you’re right. She’s lovely, though, is Edith. She don’t let him get away with nothing.’
‘Bout time he met his match,’ Lennie agreed. He turned so that he could cuddle Mattie properly, then paused and listened carefully. He could just about catch the steady snuffle of Gillian’s regular breathing from the cot in the corner. ‘Hey, do you think she’s sleeping?’
Mattie half sat up and cocked a practised ear. ‘Yep, she’s gone off. She’ll be out for the count until dawn now, then she’ll start protesting till we let her in the big bed.’
‘Dawn? So, for hours?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Good,’ said Lennie, gently pulling her down so he could put his arms around her properly. ‘It’s time I showed you how much I’ve missed you.’
‘Oh Lennie, what are you like?’ Mattie breathed, but she turned in his warm arms and held her face up to be kissed in the soft moonlight that filtered in from the edge of the blackout blind. This Christmas had turned out to be everything she had wished for, and more.