‘It’s not quite the same, is it? But it’ll have to do.’ Betty Billington stepped back from the front-window display of the Erith branch of Woolworths, carefully avoiding passing pedestrians, and placed her hands on her hips. ‘What do you think, Sarah?’
Sarah tipped her head to one side and looked intently at the main window, as well as the two smaller windows either side of the double doors that led into the store. ‘It’s not the same as last year, but it’s still festive. Not that our customers can see much with all this anti-blast tape stuck over the windows.’
Sarah thought it was a shame that the usually highly polished curved windows, set in dark mahogany frames, blocked out so much of what was on display for the Christmas shoppers. The months leading up to Christmas 1939 had been full of anticipation for the residents of Erith. So far no bombs had dropped, but everyone wondered whether today would be the day that Hitler’s armies tried to invade or a bomb would drop on their home. There was also thought at all times of loved ones who were serving in the forces. Were they overseas or still at home? No one knew for sure, but in each home wives and mothers prayed for their menfolk’s safe return. Daughters, too, were joining the services or volunteering in other ways. The country was prepared, but when would it all really begin?
Gas masks were still diligently carried everywhere, and in each branch of Woolworths staff had been trained in what to do if their store should be damaged in an attack or if there was a fire. One of Sarah’s duties as supervisor was to make sure that all staff knew their place and the part they needed to play if there should be an attack. They already participated in fire-watch duties, although the time was usually spent knitting or playing cards.
‘I do wish we could light the window display more, but the government have been so strict about us illuminating the street and alerting the enemy if they should fly over.’
Maisie, who had been sweeping the pavement in front of the store, another one of her duties since young Ginger had been called up, looked towards the sky. ‘It makes you wonder why Hitler would want his planes to fly all this way just to drop a bomb on Erith Woolies, doesn’t it? A bit of light in front of our shop shouldn’t do any harm.’
‘It’s not just Woolworths, though, Maisie. Think of all the shops in the High Street and Pier Road. If they all had their lights blazing away, then the enemy pilots would be able to see from their maps that this is Erith and nearby are the docks, as well as factories that are doing important war work. Put them out of action and we could have Hitler marching through our towns in no time,’ Betty explained.
‘Blimey. It makes you think, don’t it?’ Maisie gasped as the women all looked skywards.
‘At least we are no different to all the other shops in town,’ Betty added, ‘with the Ministry of Home Security allowing us to use only lighting that doesn’t reflect into the street.’
Sarah pointed across the road to the Hedley Mitchell store. ‘We’re in the same boat as Mitchell’s, and if I do say so myself, Woolworths has a better window display.’
‘I don’t even know why you’re worrying about a bit of light. It all has to be turned off at dusk so no one can look into the windows anyway,’ Maisie declared. ‘Now, I’m really cold, so if we’ve finished out here, can we go in and get warmed up before we all freeze to death?’
‘I just want to check that the display of men’s gifts looks all right. Do you think we should add anything else?’ Betty peered through the gaps in the anti-blast tape. ‘What do you think? Will women be interested enough to buy items to send to their loved ones? You both have husbands in the forces. Would you buy presents from Woolworths?’
Sarah glanced at Maisie. They had both laboured for many weeks under the watchful eye of Freda as they knitted warm pullovers for Alan and Joe. More than once Freda had stepped in and helped when Sarah had dropped a row of stitches or Maisie had forgotten which part of the pattern she should have been following and threw her work out of the back door in annoyance. ‘I’m wrapping a few little gifts to put under the tree for whenever Alan comes home. He told me he might be back at Christmas for a few days before he is assigned to a squadron. It all depends on what’s happening, though. You’ve made a good selection, Betty. I’ll most certainly make some purchases from Woolworths.’
Maisie had gone quiet. Sarah could see her chin starting to wobble. There’d been no news from Joe in months, apart from a postcard with a few brief words. ‘I’m sure you’ll hear from Joe soon. In no time he’ll be back and you will forget he’s been away,’ Sarah told her chum.
Maisie tried to smile. ‘I hope so, but from all the gossip I’m hearing, he’ll be in France somewhere by now, and look at how many were killed over there in the last war.’ She swept the pile of dust and leaves she’d removed from the entrance of the store into the gutter and stretched her back. ‘It must be time for a tea break, and I’m chilled to the bone standing out here.’
Sarah went to follow Maisie back inside, but Betty took hold of her arm. ‘I sense problems with Maisie and her husband. Am I right?’
‘Not a problem between them, but Maisie is missing him so much and her mother-in-law blames Maisie for her son joining up.’
Betty frowned. ‘That is ludicrous. Joe would have been conscripted by now even if he hadn’t decided to join the army when he did. Is there anything we can do to help?’
‘I don’t think so, Betty. She brightened up when she moved into number thirteen, but with Christmas approaching and all the magazines she reads telling women to soldier on alone and suggesting ideas for presents for the men at the front, she just seems to be so sad.’
‘Oh dear, and there’s me asking her about the window displays. Trust me to put my foot right in it. There must be something we can do to cheer her up. How about a trip up to London to see a pantomime? Perhaps we could go as a group and ask Maisie to organize it? That would take her mind off things, wouldn’t it?’
‘I’m sure it would, Betty. It’s a splendid idea. I reckon Maureen and Nan would love to join us. A proper family group.’
Betty smiled at her assistant. ‘You have no idea how it warms my heart to be thought of as part of your family, Sarah.’
Sarah linked arms with her boss. ‘I’m the one who should be thankful. You’ve been so good to me and Alan since I joined Woolworths. Goodness, I’ve cried on your shoulder so many times it’s a wonder you haven’t turned rusty.’
‘I’m sure that one day it’ll be my turn to cry on your shoulder and it’s good to know you’ll be there. Now, let’s catch up with Maisie and thaw out with that cup of tea she mentioned. We need to be bright and chirpy for the old soldiers’ party this evening.’
‘. . . down at the Old Bull and Bush, la, la, la, la, la . . .’
Maureen grabbed Sarah by the arm as her daughter- in-law entered the staffroom. The sing-song had already started and Maureen, true to form, was leading the old soldiers in the first number. They swayed together side by side, singing loudly until the song finished with a rousing cheer. ‘Where have you been, love?’
Sarah yawned. It had been a long day. ‘The man I was allocated couldn’t make his mind up between a pair of socks or a calendar for his son. Twice we got as far as the door and he changed his mind. I wouldn’t have worried, but I’d already wrapped the gifts. After the third time, I raced him up the stairs as quick as possible before he changed his mind again.’
‘Rather you than me,’ Maureen chuckled. ‘I might moan about the long hours in the kitchen to prepare for the party, but I’d rather do that than shop for a grumpy old man.’
‘He wasn’t too grumpy, but not as much fun as shopping for Alfie last year.’ Sarah looked around the crowded room as staff members and guests tucked into sandwiches and cake. Mr Benfield was filling glasses with beer from a barrel balanced on the edge of the counter where Maureen usually dispensed her tasty meals. Every one of them had a smile on their face. ‘I can almost imagine he is here with us.’
Sarah still thought fondly of the old man who told her to follow her heart. Was it only a year ago that she’d met Alan and fallen in love? It felt like a lifetime. So much had happened. So many new friends, and hopefully so much to look forward to in the future. A cold chill crept through her body and she shivered.
‘What’s up, love? Chilly? Have a drop of this – it’ll warm you up.’ Maureen held out a glass containing a nip of whisky.
‘No, I’m fine. It’s just something walking over my grave.’
Maureen looked at her daughter-in-law. The girl’s face had turned ghostly white. ‘Don’t you mean someone walked over your grave?’
Tears formed in Sarah’s eyes. ‘I do hope not.’
‘Sit yourself down, love. Your breakfast is ready.’ Ruby placed a plate of eggs, bacon and fried bread in front of her granddaughter.
‘Crikey, Nan. There’s enough to feed an army on this plate.’ She picked up her knife and fork, unsure of what to eat first.
‘You’ve got a busy day ahead of yourself. The world and his wife’ll be wanting to shop in Woolies today. I’ve even got to pop in there myself to pick up a few last-minute bits and bobs. Thank goodness Christmas Eve is a Sunday. It makes the Christmas holiday a bit longer this year for you girls.’
‘I can get them for you, Nan. Write me a list and I’ll do it in my break.’
‘Oh no, you’ll be run off your feet. Besides, it’ll be good to stretch my legs and walk into town. I won’t be leaving the house again this side of Boxing Day with so many to cook for.’
‘You know we’ll all help you, Nan. It was good of you to let me stay over Christmas. I know it’s a squeeze with Maisie living here now and Mum and Dad due this afternoon.’
‘Now, don’t you say another word, my girl. It’ll be a cold day in hell when I can’t have my own granddaughter under my roof at Christmas time. I’m not having you sleeping alone at Maureen’s while she’s away. Now, tuck in and eat up all that bacon. There’ll not be any to be found once it’s rationed in January. Have some more butter on your bread before that’s scarce as well.’
Sarah smiled to herself. It was lovely to be back at number thirteen with Nan. Even though Maureen made her feel at home, it wasn’t the same without Alan there. Tonight Freda would be staying over, so the three girls would be sleeping top to tail in the two single beds and drawing straws for who would have a bed to themselves. Freda had suggested a rota and couldn’t understand why her two friends had laughed so much. Since Freda had started helping out with the Girl Guides pack up at the mission hall, she was forever trying to organize them all. Fortunately, Freda had stopped mentioning working at Burndept’s factory and Sarah hoped she was happy to stay at Woolworths.
Sarah wondered what Alan was doing. He was nearing the end of his training and she’d hoped that he’d be able to come home for Christmas. She hadn’t spoken to him since he left for Scotland. Apart from postcards and a couple of letters signed by her devoted husband, she may well have been a single girl again. Perhaps he was now with his new squadron. At least with this phoney war continuing, she knew he was safe.
‘Did I tell you that Vera thought she saw some German soldiers last week?’
Sarah placed her knife and fork down on her plate. ‘Wherever did she see them?’
‘Woolwich. She’d gone up to the market and there was a couple of them getting off the London train.’
‘Oh, Nan. I know I shouldn’t laugh, but did she honestly think the Germans would invade by train?’
‘You know what Vera’s like. Once she gets a bee in her bonnet, she won’t let it alone.’
‘What happened?’
Ruby sat down and buttered her toast before continuing with the story. ‘She decided to follow them to see where they were heading. You know there are barracks in Woolwich?’
‘Yes, I know, Nan.’
‘Well, she followed them to the gates and was amazed to see the sentries let them enter, so she went up to the sentries as bold as brass and asked what they were playing at. She gave them a right tongue-lashing.’
Sarah held her breath, waiting to hear what happened next.
Ruby stopped to wipe her eyes as tears of laughter ran down her cheeks. ‘It turns out they was Canadian soldiers. The silly woman had walked all that way and the lads were on our side. I swear it was hard to keep a straight face when she told me. She was quite indignant that the sentry guards had laughed at her.’
Sarah joined in with her nan’s laughter. ‘Bless her, we shouldn’t really laugh. With a few more like Vera, we could win this war.’
‘What’s all this giggling about?’ Maisie staggered into the kitchen, her dressing gown wrapped haphazardly around her and curlers still in her hair. She stopped to kiss Sarah’s cheek. ‘Nice to ’ave you back home with us, mate. Blimey, I’ve never seen so much bacon in me life. Are we breeding pigs now, Ruby?’
‘Nan was telling me about Vera and the Germans.’
Maisie pinched a piece of bacon from Sarah’s plate. ‘Yer nan told me the other day. I thought she was ’aving me on! This bacon’s a bit of all right.’
‘I’ll throw some in the pan for you, Maisie. D’you want some eggs too?’
‘A sarnie’ll do me with a bit of brown sauce, ta, Mrs C.’
‘Here, take mine. I’m full up. Nan’s going overboard in case we never see another slice once rationing starts.’
‘You don’t wanna worry about that. My Joe’ll always be able to lay his hands on some. You know he has contacts on the docks . . .’ Maisie went quiet, realizing that Joe wasn’t working on the docks anymore; he was somewhere in France.
‘He’ll be home soon, love, and then we can have bacon every day,’ Ruby said.
Sarah hugged her friend. ‘Yes, Nan’s right. Perhaps even some more of that perfume you like.’
Maisie smiled. ‘You’re right. I’m going to try hard not to be miserable today. After all, it’s nearly Christmas and it’s our last day at work. I’d best get myself dressed. Freda said she would be here before work to drop off her suitcase and leave her bits and pieces for Christmas.’
‘Have you girls got time for another cuppa before you get to work? It’s icy cold out there, so it’ll keep you warm on the walk to Woolies,’ Ruby said as she headed for the stove, trying not to smile. ‘I heard that part of the Thames has frozen over further upriver, and it’s chilly enough for it to happen on our stretch. I’ve never known it so cold.’
‘Go on, then,’ Maisie said. ‘I might even be able to squeeze in that last rasher of bacon Sarah left on her plate. I’ll be back in a flash.’
Ruby cut the sandwich in half and left it on the table ready for Maisie, then placed the large frying pan into the stone sink to soak, pouring on hot water from the kettle. ‘I’ve been thinking, Sarah – we need to keep an eye on Maisie over Christmas. She’s missing her Joe more than is healthy for her. She puts on a brave face, but every so often it cracks and I can see a very unhappy young woman. What with Maisie and young Freda not having much in the way of close families to speak of, I’m thinking we are very fortunate.’
Sarah hugged her nan. ‘You’re right there. Thank you for caring for my friends.’
‘Well, they look out for me as well. I’ve not slept alone under my roof since you moved to Maureen’s house. Don’t think I don’t know when you’ve engineered something, my girl.’
‘Nan! I don’t know what you mean.’ Sarah tried to sound indignant. Had Nan found her out?
‘Let’s just say I enjoy the company of young people. Now, get yourself ready for work or that nice Miss Billington will be giving you what for.’
‘Phew, I’m fair whacked out.’ Maisie leant dramatically against Freda’s counter. ‘How much longer until we can go home?’
‘It’s only half past two and you’ve just come back from a late dinner hour. You’d better watch it or you’ll be in trouble if the supervisor catches you away from your counter.’
‘It’s only Sarah on duty.’
‘Only? You know she has eyes in the back of her head. It wouldn’t be fair if she had to tell you off for not doing your job. Think how it would make her feel.’
Maisie shrugged her shoulders. ‘What I meant was, she’s upstairs working with Betty, so she can’t be down here as well, can she? You’ve turned into a right goody-goody since you started helping out with the Girl Guides.’
Freda finished counting a customer’s change into her hand before turning back to Maisie with a hurt look on her face. ‘That’s not a nice thing to say, is it? What I do with the Guides has nothing to do with my job here. I’m only helping out as their regular leader has been evacuated with her class to Cornwall. It’s left Brown Owl short-handed, and as I lodge with her mother, I felt as though I should offer to help out a bit.’ Freda didn’t add that she thoroughly enjoyed herself at their meetings and doing all the war work they were involved with. Working at Woolies, she had begun to feel as though she wasn’t playing her part in the war effort, even though nothing much had happened yet. Like everyone else, she was starting to get fed up with this ‘phoney war’, as they called it, and wanted it all to end. From the bits she’d heard on the wireless and on Pathé News at the pictures, all their soldiers were safe, but some ships had been sunk. She couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the seamen on the ships and hoped they were all safe.
‘Don’t listen to me. I’m just not looking forward to Christmas much without Joe at home. It might be a bit different by next year. I reckon this lot’ll all be over and we’ll be back to normal.’
‘What, you moaning about work and skiving, you mean?’ Freda added with a laugh. ‘Get back to your crockery before the queue that’s forming starts to complain.’
‘Blooming ’eck,’ Maisie declared. ‘I ’ope they don’t all want to buy tea sets or I’ll never serve them all.’
‘I’ll send over one of the new girls to help you. There’s not a lot of call for haberdashery so close to Christmas. I’m sure if our supervisor was here, she’d say the same.’
‘Cheers, Freda. I’ll see you when we get our coats at closing time.’
Sarah linked arms with her two friends as they headed through the dark night towards Alexandra Road. ‘Sorry I wasn’t on the shop floor much today. I did miss it.’
‘I bet you did, sitting up there in your warm office,’ Maisie chided her.
‘Honest I did. It wasn’t much fun sorting out piles of paper and filing away staff records. Poor Betty has got herself in a right mess since Mr Benfield’s assistant left to be a land girl.’
‘Why has she left a cosy job to grow spuds?’ Maisie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
‘Some people think they should do more for the war effort, Maisie,’ Sarah pointed out. ‘The woman is single and didn’t have a family to worry about, so decided to join the land army.’
‘I know how she feels,’ Freda said quietly. ‘I think I should be doing more as well.’
‘Don’t think I’m being rude, Freda, but I really don’t think you’re strong enough to be a land girl,’ Maisie replied.
‘I don’t want to be a land girl. I wouldn’t know a turnip from a marrow, let alone be able to milk a cow. No, I’m still thinking of going to work at Burndept’s factory. At least I’d feel as though I was doing my bit.’
‘Doing your bit? But, Freda, you don’t have to think that way. You’re needed at Woolworths, especially now that so many of the men have joined up,’ Sarah was quick to point out.
‘Thank you for saying that, Sarah, but I thought you ought to know that I’m thinking about it.’
‘Burndept’s do pay more than Woolies,’ Maisie said, ‘but it’s dirty work.’
‘Freda, if it’s the money that’s the problem, you know you can move back into Nan’s house. She keeps telling you that you’re more than welcome. She won’t charge as much rent as you pay to your landlady.’
Freda smiled to herself. As much as she’d love to move back to number thirteen, she preferred to be independent, at least until she knew that Lenny was safe and she wasn’t likely to be visited by the unsavoury man who turned up at her digs last Christmas. She’d heard no more about him, so perhaps he wouldn’t return now. Was it really a year since she’d been kicked out of her old lodgings and Sarah had rescued her? She was no closer to finding her brother, even though the letter she received that had sent her rushing to Erith had been clearly stamped with an Erith postmark. She’d thought working in a public place like Woolworths would mean that she may spot her brother. On the other hand, would the men who were undoubtedly after Lenny do her harm unless they found him first?
Maisie nudged Freda. ‘A penny for them?’
‘Sorry – I was miles away. Perhaps you are right and I should stay at Woolworths. I promise that if I change my mind, I’ll let you both know first.’
Sarah patted her hand. ‘I’m so pleased. Oops, mind how you go – the pavement is rather slippery. Thank goodness we are almost home.’
The girls turned into Alexandra Road, thankful to be almost out of the cold weather.
‘It looks as though there’s someone waiting on the doorstep,’ Maisie pointed out.
‘I hope Nan hasn’t forgotten her key. It’s too cold to be waiting outside.’
‘Surely Mrs C. would have popped to Woolies and borrowed a key from us?’ Freda asked.
‘It’s most likely Vera come to tell us she’s spotted some more German soldiers,’ Maisie laughed.
‘Oh my goodness. It can’t be!’ Sarah pulled away from her two friends and ran towards number thirteen. ‘Alan! It’s Alan!’ In the darkened street, she could just see the outline of the man she loved.
She reached the gate as Alan turned and saw his wife and swept her up in his arms. They were locked in an embrace, only parting as a polite cough from Freda and Maisie brought them back to earth.
‘Good to see you, Alan,’ Maisie said as she held out her door key. ‘Let’s get ourselves inside before we freeze to death.’
‘How long have you been waiting on the doorstep? I thought Nan would have been home,’ Sarah asked her husband as she ushered him into the front room, closing the curtains before switching on the light. Freda and Maisie had discreetly gone through to the kitchen, leaving the young couple alone.
‘Not long. I went to Mum’s house first, but it was locked up and empty. I thought I’d find someone here, but all I’ve seen is a dog. I didn’t know your nan had one. He seems friendly enough, even though he finished off my sandwiches.’
Sarah frowned. ‘Nan doesn’t have a dog. Perhaps it’s that stray that’s been hanging around. You know what Nan’s like with waifs and strays. I reckon she’s been slipping it some food, even though Dad has chased it off a few times.’
‘That sounds like your nan all right. Is Mum still at work?’
‘Maureen’s gone away for Christmas to visit your aunt Joan in Ipswich. I did mention it in my last letter. It’ll probably be waiting for you when you get back to Scotland.’ Sarah started to remove her coat, wishing she was wearing something prettier than her maroon Woolworths overall and comfortable old shoes. ‘Shall I light the fire?’
‘No, don’t bother. We may as well go into the living room with the others.’
Sarah felt a stab of disappointment. She thought Alan would have preferred some time alone with her, as they hadn’t seen each other since September. Perhaps he was tired. ‘Did it take long to travel down from Scotland?’
Alan looked away as he removed his overcoat. ‘I’m no longer in Scotland.’
‘But . . . but why didn’t you tell me? Where are you based now?’
‘I’m not really supposed to say, Sarah.’
Sarah felt impatient. ‘For heaven’s sake, Alan. I’m not likely to tell the enemy.’ She thought of Vera and her ‘Germans’ and felt a nervous giggle escape from her throat.
Alan looked annoyed. ‘It’s no laughing matter, Sarah. It’s all right for you women, staying home and not having to train to fight the enemy. You can go on as if life is just the same, but for us men, it’s different. Damn you. Men are going to die and all you can do is stand there and laugh.’
‘Alan?’ Sarah didn’t recognize this man standing in front of her. Had he changed so much in three months? His face was thinner, and there was a guarded look in his eyes.
Alan ran his hands through his short hair. ‘For your information, and please don’t share this with your friends, I’m based in Kent.’ He raised his hand to silence Sarah as she was about to say how pleased she was that he would be close to home. ‘Don’t say a word. From the little I know, it’s likely that this part of the country will take a pounding, and it will be our air force that will stop an invasion.’
Sarah frowned as she looked at her husband. He had never spoken to her this way before. ‘Alan, all I want is for you to be safe. Please let’s not argue.’
Alan sighed. ‘I’m sorry, my love. It’s been a long day and I expected to find Mum home as well as you. Come here.’ He held out his arms and Sarah stepped gratefully into them. This was more like the Alan she knew and loved. She traced the lines on his face before pulling his lips down to hers. His face was more lined than she remembered, and his eyes didn’t shine quite as much, but once their lips met, none of that mattered anymore.
‘Cooee! I’m home!’ Sarah pulled away from Alan as Ruby let herself into the house, closely followed by Vera. ‘My goodness, is that you, Alan? Come here and give me a hug. It’s so good to see you, lad. You look a sight for sore eyes in that uniform.’
Alan hugged Ruby and shook Vera’s hand.
‘Now, have those girls offered you any food yet? . . . I thought not. You come along with me and we’ll sort that out right now.’
Alan followed Ruby without a backward glance to his wife.
For the next hour Sarah sat quietly and watched as Alan chatted to the women about his life in the RAF and told them things he had not mentioned in his letters to her. I may as well not be here, she thought, as she went to the scullery to wash up.
She didn’t hear Maisie come up behind her until she whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t look so glum. I reckon your husband’s a little bit shy after being away for so long. Come with me.’
Sarah wasn’t sure that Maisie was correct in her assumptions but followed her upstairs to the room the girls were sharing over Christmas.
Opening her wardrobe, Maisie pulled out a parcel. ‘I suppose you’ll be going back to Maureen’s tonight?’
‘Oh, I hadn’t given that a thought. I suppose we will, as there’s no room here, is there. Not with Mum and Dad arriving tomorrow evening.’
Maisie laughed at her friend’s innocence. ‘Here, this is your Christmas present. I think it’ll be a good idea if you open it now.’
Sarah took the parcel. ‘But it’s not Christmas yet. I’d rather wait until Christmas Day.’
‘No, open it now. You’ll thank me later.’
Sarah untied the ribbon and pulled back the wrapping paper. Beneath a layer of tissue was a confection of fine lawn and lace. Lifting the garment, she found herself looking at the most beautiful nightdress she’d ever seen. ‘It’s adorable. Did you make this?’
Maisie nodded. ‘I thought that it would come in useful once that husband of yours returned home.’
‘Won’t you be needing this yourself, Maisie?’
‘Don’t you worry about me, my love. My fingers haven’t been idle. My Joe will see me in something equally as alluring.’
‘Alluring?’ Sarah felt her cheeks turn pink. ‘My goodness,’ she spluttered. Now she did feel shy.
Maisie delved back into the wardrobe and pulled out her second-best dress, of green velvet, and held it up to Sarah. ‘Hmm, that’ll do. Now, get yourself ready and take that husband of yours back to Maureen’s. You have the place to yourself. We don’t want to see you until Christmas Day.’
‘But that’s—’
‘Yes, it’s the day after tomorrow. Don’t worry about the potatoes and the sprouts. Freda and me’ll help Ruby. You just get to know your husband again before he vanishes up into those blue skies for months on end.’
Sarah hugged Maisie. ‘You are the best friend a girl has ever had.’
‘Don’t go saying that in front of Freda or she’ll never forgive you. Not that I can see Freda running up a nightdress like this and giving it as a Christmas present.’ She checked her watch. ‘It’s late, so you get dressed and I’ll go tell Alan to wait for you at the front door. Oh, and there’s some of my perfume in the top drawer. Help yourself.’
‘Cheers, Maisie. I don’t know what to say.’
Maisie paused at the door. ‘Just name the first baby after me.’
Sarah cuddled up to Alan and watched as the night sky turned to dawn through a crack in the curtains. They’d not bothered about the blackout, as there had been no time to turn on a light. Maisie’s gift had worked its magic, but Sarah felt as though the man she was lying next to was not the person she had married. It was Alan who had held her close. It was Alan who had covered her body in kisses, but where was the Alan who would whisper tender words to her and cuddle her close until they fell into a deep sleep? She could see his uniform jacket draped across the seat by the dressing table. It was alien to her, as was the way he now held himself, upright and proud. No doubt this was the RAF’s doing, but she felt there was more. They needed to talk, and it had to be before he returned to his duties.
She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. Her hand fell upon the nightdress that Maisie had sewn with such care for her friend, but instead she reached for her normal attire. Pulling the dressing gown tight, she slipped her feet carefully into her slippers and crept from the room. A good breakfast would put matters right. Maureen may be away, but she always kept the larder well stocked. Perhaps they could go for a walk afterwards. That would be nice, she thought, as she put the kettle on the stove and lit the gas beneath. Humming happily to herself, she cracked eggs into a pan and sliced bread ready to fry to a crispy brown just as she knew Alan liked it.
‘That smells good.’
‘Oh, Alan, I was just about to bring it to you.’
Alan stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He was wearing just the bottom part of his pyjamas. Sarah’s heart skipped a beat as she saw strong, well-defined muscles that hadn’t been there three months ago flex across his broad chest. She resisted the urge to trace them with her fingers, instead pouring milk into his cup. They needed to talk. She had to keep her head clear.
‘Sit yourself down, Alan, before it gets cold.’
Alan tucked into his breakfast. Sarah watched him as he ate hungrily.
‘You don’t know how much I’ve missed decent grub these last months. I’ve thought about nothing else all the way home on the train.’
Sarah felt her heart sink. ‘Haven’t you missed me at all?’
Alan’s eyes never left his plate as he mopped up the last of his egg with a piece of bread. ‘Goes without saying, don’t it?’ he muttered.
‘I don’t think it does, Alan. I’ve missed you like hell. I was missing you before you’d reached the end of the street. Now you’re back, I’ll tell you again. I miss you, Alan Gilbert, and if I had it my way, you’d never leave me again. As it is, bloody Hitler is stopping us being together and I’m not happy about it. Now, tell me all about your life these past months and the people you’ve met.’
Alan sighed. ‘You know I’m not supposed to talk about things, Sarah.’
‘I don’t mean the war. I want to know if you’ve made friends. What are the people like you are living with?’
‘They’re just chaps. Nothing to write home about.’
‘But I’m interested, Alan. I want to be able to imagine what your life is like when you are off duty. Are these chaps like us? Do they have wives and children? Did they work at Woolworths or in factories?’
Alan laughed. It wasn’t his usual carefree laugh but harsh and cynical. ‘For Christ’s sake, Sarah, of course they aren’t like us. I’m the odd one out, if you must know. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth like many of my fellow pilots. I never went to the kind of school one boasts about that opens doors for the rest of one’s life. No, Sarah, they aren’t like us . . . me.’
Something inside Sarah died at that moment. Looking back, she could pinpoint the time, the room and even the remains of breakfast on the table at the moment she realized her husband had changed.
She reached across the table to take Alan’s hand, but he pulled away. ‘Alan, it’s what’s inside us that matters. You wouldn’t be a pilot if the RAF didn’t think you were good enough.’
Alan rose to his feet. ‘You don’t understand. It’s not just about flying planes. I’m going for a walk.’
‘If you wait until I’ve washed up and tidied around a bit, we could go together. It would be lovely to walk down by the river and get some fresh air.’
‘I’d rather be alone,’ he said, walking from the room.
Sarah collected the empty plates and headed to the scullery. She’d clear up and then make herself presentable. Perhaps when Alan came back, he would be in a better frame of mind and they could make a fresh start with the day.
Sarah put her knitting to one side. It was starting to get dark outside, even though it was only mid-afternoon. She needed to check the blackout curtains were secure before turning on the light. Her fingers felt numb from knitting for so long, but it helped stop her from pacing the floor worrying about where Alan had gone and why he had not returned. Freda had popped round earlier with a basket of food from Ruby, so at least she didn’t have to think about what to prepare for their evening meal. Slices of roast beef with vegetables would see them through until they went to number thirteen on Christmas Day. Freda had not questioned Sarah about Alan once she explained that he’d gone for a walk. Thank goodness Maisie had not accompanied her, as she would have seen through Sarah’s bright smile and Alan going out alone.
Knowing that she would be away over Christmas and that Sarah would be staying at Ruby’s, Maureen had not bothered putting up her few decorations or bringing in the tree from the garden, where it had been planted the previous year. The greetings cards on the mantelpiece did not make the room look at all festive and Sarah switched off the wireless with a sigh. The carol service that had been playing had done nothing to lighten her mood.
She’d just picked up her knitting when she heard a key turning in the lock of the front door.
‘Alan, is that you?’
There was no response. Surely it wasn’t Maureen come home early from her visit to her family. Sarah prayed it wasn’t, as she was bound to notice the difference in her son and Sarah could not face the questions. She picked up the poker from the hearth and crept into the darkened hall. The door had swung open. Sarah jumped as she spotted Alan sitting on the floor.
‘Alan, whatever are you doing down there?’ She pushed the door closed, retrieving his key, which had been left in the lock. Flicking on the hall light, she tried not to laugh at the state of her husband.
‘Sorry, love,’ he slurred, finding it hard to form his words. ‘I bumped into young Ginger and we stopped off at the New Light for a pint. He’s home for a few days before he’s shipped out. Look, I won the raffle.’ He held up a rather bedraggled-looking chicken. ‘It needs plucking.’
Sarah helped him to his feet and he staggered to the over-stuffed horsehair sofa, sitting on Sarah’s knitting, which she’d left when she went to investigate the intruder. ‘I’ll make you some food and then I think you should lie down for a while,’ she said, retrieving her knitting and checking that Alan hadn’t knocked any stitches from the needles. ‘I’ll take this as well,’ she added, prising the chicken from her husband’s arms. He lay in an untidy heap, his head dropping onto his chest as he started to doze off. She had no idea what to do with the bird, or if it would remain fresh for when her mother-in-law returned home. She’d leave it in the pantry and ask Nan for advice.
Returning to the front room ten minutes later with sandwiches made from the beef that Freda had dropped off earlier in the day, Sarah found Alan snoring loudly on the sofa. She pulled off his shoes and jacket, retrieved his cap from the floor and made him more comfortable. Despite the way she had to roll him over to get his arms out of the jacket sleeves, he didn’t wake. It was pointless making a proper meal, as it was unlikely Alan would wake for a few hours and it would be wasted. It was better he slept off his excess of ale. She frowned. She’d never known him drink this much before.
Sarah topped up the coal fire and picked up her knitting. Christmas Eve would be quiet for once, but at least Alan was home and safe.