Far From Home (31 page)

It was on the tip of Cissy’s tongue to tell her mother how wrong she was about Witherspoon, but it was clear she would not believe her – would see any kind of blackening of his character as merely a bit of spite to justify her actions. At least there had been no mention of photographs.

‘I’ll speak to him later today,’ she mumbled instead.

‘See that you do,’ Peggy snapped. She turned on her heel and disappeared into her bedroom, the door closing firmly behind her.

Cissy trudged up the two flights of stairs to her own bedroom. The evening had been spoiled, and all she wanted to do now was try and regain the essence of it in the peace and quiet of her bed. She opened the door and froze.

June rose from the chair, her face stiff with anger. ‘What have you got to say for yourself?’ she said flatly.

‘Nothing,’ said Cissy. ‘Get out of my room, June.’

‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you thought it was right for you to steal my fellow.’

‘You don’t own him,’ Cissy retorted, ‘and if he didn’t want to be with me, then I couldn’t have stolen him.’

‘Joe was happy with me until you turned on the little girl act,’ snapped June. ‘You were making a play for him the moment you clapped eyes on him, and you had no right to do that.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Cissy wearily, ‘but Joe’s old enough to make up his own mind. He came to the theatre this morning and asked me to spend the day with him. What was I supposed to do?’

‘If you were the decent sort of girl you pretend to be, you’d have said no, and reminded him he already had a girl,’ snarled June, as she advanced on Cissy. ‘Instead of that, you spent the night with him.’

‘Not like that, I didn’t,’ she protested.

‘Really?’ June’s tone was cold and flat with sarcasm, her gaze trawling over Cissy, making her skin crawl. ‘It’s clear what sort of girl you
really
are, Cecily Reilly, and men will always be men. I pity your poor mother. She must be so ashamed to have such a
tart
for a daughter.’

The slap of Cissy’s hand on June’s cheek shocked them both.

But June’s reaction was swift, and she hit Cissy with such force it made her stumble. ‘You
bitch
,’ she snarled, making a grab for Cissy’s hair. ‘I’ll have you for that.’

Cissy dodged her grasping fingers and gave her a shove which sent her stumbling across the room. ‘Call me that again and I’ll punch you,’ she panted. ‘It’s not my fault Joe finds me more attractive than you, so get over it.’

With a howl of rage, June threw herself at Cissy and managed to grab a fistful of her hair. Cissy yelped at the pain, but managed to get two good blows to June’s head as they staggered back and forth, wrestling in almost silent fury.

‘Stop it. Now.’

Cissy felt a strong arm round her waist and the air was knocked out of her as she was flung across the room. She lay dazed on the floor by the bed as Danuta wrestled a furious June into a corner and held her there.

‘Enough, June,’ hissed Danuta. ‘You will have whole house awake.’

‘That bitch stole my man,’ yelled June.

‘I did not,’ yelled back Cissy as she got to her feet and prepared to hit her again.

‘What is going on up here?’ Peggy stood in the doorway, taking in the scene with one furious glance. ‘Danuta, thank you, but I will deal with this.’ She turned her angry gaze on June. ‘Go back to your room at once,’ she ordered.

June threw a venomous glare towards Cissy. ‘Sorry, Mrs Reilly,’ she muttered. ‘But I couldn’t just let her …’

‘Out,’ ordered Peggy.

June pushed past her, and with a sob of distress, ran to her room.

Peggy glared at Cissy who was still trying to get her breath back. ‘Pull yourself together, Cecily, and stop making such a show. This is a house of mourning – not a bear garden.’

Cissy knew she was in deep trouble, her mother never called her Cecily unless she was really angry. ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ she muttered.

‘It never is, is it?’ Peggy turned in the doorway to find Danuta, Fran and Suzy watching from the landing. ‘Go back to your rooms,’ she commanded. ‘There’s nothing more to see. I will not have this sort of behaviour in my home – and you can tell June I want to see her downstairs tonight on the dot of six.’ She turned back to Cissy. ‘That goes for you too.’

Cissy sank on to her bed as her mother shut the door. She was shaking with anger and humiliation, and her head hurt where June had tried to yank out a fistful of her hair. It just wasn’t fair, she thought as she collapsed into the pillow and burst into tears. She’d done nothing wrong, and it really wasn’t her fault that Joe preferred her company to June’s. And as for calling her a tart, that had been going too far. Of course she’d had to defend her reputation.

‘Oh, Joe,’ she sobbed. ‘You have no idea how much trouble you’ve caused, but it was worth it – it really was.’

Polly had had a busy night on the ward with two emergencies coming in after their operations, and all the palaver of getting everyone down to the shelter and back again because of the two air raids.

She had kept the dark thoughts at bay for most of the time, but when the grief came over her in great engulfing waves, she’d had to battle to over-come them and sought temporary sanctuary in the sluice until she had herself under control again. It hadn’t been easy to keep focussed, but Sister had been kindness itself; never remarking on her short absences, never asking awkward questions or telling
her
to go home. She seemed to understand that Polly desperately needed to be kept occupied, and found endless tasks for her to do during the lulls between air raids.

There had been no sign of Matron, which was most unusual, and Polly had managed to slip down to see Adam during her meal break. He was asleep, and Mary had assured her that his temperature was almost normal again, and that the extra medication was helping with the headache.

She had taken another peek at him a few minutes ago, and there was no change, so she’d begun the short walk home in the soft light of a new dawn in the hope that she would find rest for her weary body, and that her exhaustion would banish the awful images that were churning in her mind.

She let herself into the house and quietly went upstairs. It was barely six o’clock, and yet Danuta was already dressed for work. ‘You must have an early start today,’ she murmured, as she dragged off the heavy cape and kicked off her shoes.

‘My shift begins at eleven, and I was not planning to be awake so early,’ replied Danuta, ‘but the noise from upstairs disturbed me.’

Polly took off her cap and shook out her hair. ‘I suppose they all came in late because those Australian boys are leaving today,’ she said through a vast yawn.

‘There was a fight,’ said Danuta, and grinned at Polly’s shocked expression. ‘Cissy came home about an hour ago having spent the night with Joe. She and June were snarling like cats and lashing out, making the terrible noise to wake all of us. I put a stop to it, but Peggy was very angry, I think.’

‘Oh dear. I had a feeling there would be trouble in that quarter. Who won the fight?’

‘Peggy.’ Danuta giggled. ‘She is very English, not raising her voice, but commanding all the same. She is tough lady, and I am thinking June and Cissy will hear more from her today.’

Polly grabbed her washbag and nightdress. ‘Let’s hope Joe proves to be worth all the trouble,’ she sighed. She gave Danuta a weary smile. ‘I’ll just have a wash and then I’m for bed. It’s been a long night, and I’m hoping I’ll manage to sleep right through until teatime.’

‘I can give you something to help you sleep,’ said Danuta, bringing out the little bottle. ‘Two drops of this in some water and you can rest with no dreams.’

‘Thank you,’ Polly said softly, reaching for the bottle. ‘I might need some help for the next few days.’

Danuta eyed her thoughtfully as she handed it over. ‘It is strong, so be careful,’ she warned, ‘and don’t come to depend upon it too much. It can form a habit.’

‘I’ll only need it for a little while,’ murmured Polly. She didn’t bother to read the label, for she didn’t care what it was if it fulfilled its purpose and stopped the dreams. She dropped the little bottle into her dressing gown pocket. ‘Thanks, Danuta. I’ll be careful, I promise.’

Danuta was gone by the time she returned from the bathroom, and Polly carefully used the dropper to add the clear medication into the glass of water. Drinking it down, she grimaced at the bitter taste and then climbed into bed.

With a concerted effort, she forced her aching body to relax. She lay in the darkness staring into its void, seeing the faces of her loved ones drift before her, hearing them call to her, their cries becoming more distant as the darkness enfolded her and crept right inside her, banishing all thought and softening the pain.

Polly’s eyelids fluttered and she yielded willingly.

Peggy was feeling frazzled and at the end of her tether. It had been a long, disturbed and worrying night, and she really didn’t feel up to dealing with anything much today after all the shenanigans that had been going on.

However, she’d come to the conclusion that it would be best if Jim wasn’t told about Cissy’s dawn homecoming and the fight that had ensued. He would probably start shouting and playing the heavy-handed father, and would no doubt blame her for Cissy’s behaviour, which would do no good at all. She was better left to deal with this minor crisis on her own.

She gave a deep sigh as she cleared Danuta’s dishes from the table and prepared her own breakfast in the deserted kitchen. She might have known there would be trouble with so many young girls in the house, and all those service boys wandering about the town looking for company. But she was mortified that her own daughter should cheapen herself that way – thank goodness Mrs Finch had slept through it all – and she was determined to give her and the others a stern talking to.

As she made the tea and toast, she wondered how Polly had managed to get through her night shift and if she’d been able to see Adam – and if so, was he yet well enough to share Polly’s insufferable burden?

Peggy shivered and wrapped her cardigan more firmly about her. She could only imagine what the girl must be going through, but the thought of losing her own boys was enough to make her want to weep – how much worse it must be for Polly who’d lost all her family, and had a desperately sick husband to worry about.

Peggy placed her breakfast on the table and sat down, her thoughts drifting as the tea cooled and the toast turned to rubber.

Kate Jackson had telephoned from the welfare office the day before, asking after Polly. Peggy had had questions of her own, and on learning that the
Benares
had been sunk a week earlier, had furiously challenged her about the delay in telling everyone. Kate had explained that many of the dead children’s families came from London and Liverpool, which had been devastated by bombs. A good number of the parents had been rehoused or evacuated to safer areas, and they’d been difficult to track down. Churchill had made it clear that every last one of them must be informed before the story was released to the public.

Peggy gave a prolonged sigh. In the scheme of things, she decided, Cissy’s behaviour and the earlier events were paltry matters easily dealt with, and she counted her blessings yet again, aware that she had so many things to be grateful for.

Ron came home with Harvey a short while later. He looked washed out and every one of his sixty-odd years, and even Harvey had a hangdog look about him. Refusing her offer of breakfast, Ron trudged down to the basement bedroom with Harvey at his heels, and within minutes they were both snoring.

Jim came in just as she’d finished her unappetising breakfast, and she quickly fried him a bit of spam to go with the freshly laid egg. Putting a slice of bread and marge on the side of the plate, she noted how tired and drawn he looked after his night of fire-watching.

‘Would you listen to the auld fella?’ said Jim with a weary smile. ‘Sure and his snoring’s enough to wake the dead so it is.’

‘He’s worn out,’ muttered Peggy. ‘How was it out there tonight?’

‘Not so bad,’ Jim replied as he tucked into his meal. ‘There were a couple of fires over the other side of town, but the brigade got there quickly so there wasn’t much damage, and no real casualties to speak of. Most of the tip and runs were over the Channel.’

‘The fires weren’t near Doris, were they?’ Peggy had horrible visions of her elder sister arriving with her suitcases and demanding to stay. She would be welcomed, of course, but Peggy shuddered at the thought, and suspected such a visitation would lead to some terrible rows.

Jim grinned. ‘To be sure, the Germans wouldn’t dare bomb the very grand and important Doris,’ he said, mopping up the last of the egg with the bread. ‘Don’t worry, Peg, she’ll not be moving in yet – and besides, we’ve no room, unless she wants to share with Da.’

They both chuckled at the thought. Doris and Ron disliked each other intensely and made no secret of it.

Peggy smoked a cigarette as Jim poured a second cup of tea. Unlike her warm relationship with her younger sister, Doreen, she and Doris had always been prickly with one another. They were like chalk and cheese, and she still found it strange that they could be sisters at all. They had nothing in common but their parentage, and Doris had long made it clear that she considered Peggy and her brood to be several strata below her own perceived social standing.