briefly shut her eyes to absorb this new knowledge. Her admiration for the man grew even stronger. ‘Of course not,’ she breathed. She realised her pulse had quickened. What danger he must be in, for so much of the time. But she didn’t want to give away that worry. He was home to recuperate, not be burdened with her concern. ‘Well then, you’d better not ruin your chances of getting back to it by walking too far on that leg of yours.’ Her eyes met his as he turned away from the window, and again she felt that jolt of connection that went beyond words.
‘Yes, nurse,’ he said mock-meekly, and they laughed, just as the door opened.
‘Here they are!’ Edith sang out, and Gillian rushed in, keen to see her uncle on his all-too-rare visit. ‘Mind his leg, duck. And here’s Alan.’ Edith held the little boy, now eighteen months old, in her arms and beamed at him as he waved his hands. ‘Can you say “Joe”? Try it.’
‘Ow-ow-ow,’ said Alan obligingly, smart in his checked shirt and flannel shorts that Alice thought must be made from one of his mother’s worn-out skirts. As Edith was distracted by the baby and showing him to his uncle, Alice noticed her friend’s face. Delight was written all over it, in a way that she never showed when at work. Alice wondered with a start how long it would be before Edith could marry her Harry and have a child of her own.
Then there was no time to think further about it as the food was ready and they were all summoned into the kitchen, drawn by the irresistible smells of delicious soup, overlaid by roasting chicken. Alice quietly made sure that Joe could sit at the end of the big table and rest his stick in one corner, while the others settled onto the mismatch of chairs as best they could. Gillian and Brian proudly perched on plump cushions placed on dining chairs and Alan was placed in the high chair.
‘Don’t give him more than one potato at a time,’ his mother Mattie warned as she cleared away the soup bowls, ‘or he’s liable to throw them at you. He thinks it’s a great game.’ She frowned lovingly at him as she helped her own mother pass the platters laden with vegetables. ‘Here, Billy, try some carrots.’
Billy heaped Kathleen’s plate before his own, passing the platter to Alice. She caught the look that passed between them and wondered what it meant. They seemed to be full of suppressed excitement, beyond the thought of one of Flo’s famous special dinners. She wondered what it could be. All in good time, she told herself, piling carrots onto Joe’s plate.
‘You don’t have to do that – it’s my leg that’s broken, not my arm,’ he protested, half putting out a hand to stop her.
‘I’ve done it now,’ she grinned, registering the warmth of his hand as it brushed against her own.
‘Tuck in, everyone. Let’s not stand on ceremony,’ Stan urged them, and nobody needed to be told twice.
It wasn’t until Mattie led the two toddlers into the back kitchen to have their hands and faces wiped at the end of the meal that Billy let slip the secret.
‘There’ll be another one to clear up after soon,’ he laughed, and then clapped his hand over his mouth, realising what he’d said. Kathleen began to nod and then saw that everyone was staring at them.
‘Really, Kath? Is that why you’ve been eating like a bird?’ Edith demanded. ‘I wondered what was up. Aren’t you the dark horse?’
‘Congratulations, that’s wonderful news,’ said Flo warmly. ‘How lovely, a brother or sister for Brian. When is it due?’
‘In the late summer,’ said Kathleen, leaving the date deliberately vague. She knew that nobody around this table would judge her, but wanted to get into the habit of giving that answer. She was fairly sure that if anybody counted, they would know that this baby had been conceived before the December wedding. She hoped that if it was late then no one would bat an eyelid. Whenever it arrived, she knew it would be loved by everybody here.
‘Well done, Billy.’ Joe jokingly punched his friend’s arm. ‘Good job you had plenty of practice going without sleep in the raids. You won’t get a full night’s kip now.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ said Billy, trying to look regretful and failing.
Once again Alice caught the look on Edith’s face, similar to the one she’d noticed when her friend was carrying Alan earlier that afternoon. Sooner or later, Edith was going to want a family of her own. Alice didn’t want to think about it; she had relied on Edith ever since they’d met on their first day of specialist training to become district nurses. They had been inseparable ever since. Of course she had known that this could not continue for ever, especially when Edith became serious about Harry. But there had been so many changes in those few short years; this felt like one too many.
‘Is something wrong?’ Joe murmured, giving her a careful glance. He edged a little closer to her.
‘No, nothing at all,’ Alice assured him, keeping her voice low so that nobody else could hear it over the buzz of congratulations. ‘Everything is lovely. Such a wonderful meal.’ She could feel the warmth emanating from him.
‘Good,’ he said, watching her keenly.
For a moment she fervently wished that he could stay for longer than his brief leave, that she could share her cares and worries with him and he would tell her not to be so silly. He could always put things into perspective for her. Yet that was impossible. She must not even think about it. Gratefully she looked at him and absorbed his warmth while she still could.
Peggy was bored. Mrs Cannon had tried to persuade her to go to church on Easter Sunday morning but she hadn’t attended. There seemed no point. It was at moments like these, when families traditionally gathered together, that she missed Pete most keenly. Mrs Cannon had been a little disappointed but hadn’t pressed her. ‘I’ve been invited to eat with my WVS friends afterwards,’ she’d said. ‘Would you like to come too?’
Peggy had only just avoided shuddering in front of her mother-in-law. To sit and talk about knitting for hours at a time was her idea of torture. Now she sat at the kitchen table with the wireless on in the background, the Halle orchestra blazing away, staring blankly out of the window into the small yard.
Perhaps she should copy Mattie’s example and grow a few things. That would give her something to do and Mrs Cannon would appreciate it. It would be an excuse to get outdoors, now that the raids had stopped. Mattie had said she could have some seeds, and Edith could maybe get more from those seed swaps she went to. Peggy sighed. She’d never grown anything before and wasn’t sure if she could start now.
She glanced down at her hands. Her skin was pale, and prone to freckles. Her nails were short, necessary for working in the factory. Nail polish was hard to come by and she hadn’t bothered for ages. Just one more thing lost in the misery of the war. For two pins she could have burst into tears.
There was a knock at the door.
Peggy had no idea who it could be. Not Clarrie – her family always had a big meal on Easter Sunday, and she would be on kitchen duty. No one else came to call for her. Perhaps something had happened to Mrs Cannon. Hastily she ran her fingers through her hair to bring it to some semblance of tidiness and tugged at the collar of her frayed pink blouse. She hadn’t expected to see anyone today and had dressed in any old thing, Easter or no Easter.
The
