Luckpenny Land (18 page)

Kath’s lovely face went very pale when Meg proudly showed her the ring. She seemed quite lost for words.

‘You never thought he’d do it, did you?’

‘No,’ Kath agreed. ‘I never thought he would. Congratulations.’

‘It was a surprise, for my birthday,’ Meg repeated proudly, holding up her hand to admire her precious ring.

‘It’s certainly that.’

‘Isn’t it lovely?’

‘Oh, love,’ said Sally Ann, hugging her. ‘I’m so pleased for you. We could have had a double wedding if he hadn’t been such a slow clod.’

‘Steady but sure, that’s me,’ said Jack.

‘As steady as a rogue fox,’ retorted Kath dryly and flushed as she caught Meg’s raised eyebrows, awash suddenly with unaccustomed guilt. Then she put her arms around her friend and hugged her, as Sally Ann had done. ‘Make sure he treats you well, love. You deserve to be happy.’

‘You’re crying,’ murmured Meg softly. ‘Oh, Kath. It won’t make any difference, to us I mean. We’ll still be friends,’ she said, misconstruing. ‘For ever and ever, remember?’

Later that afternoon when they got back to Ashlea and Meg and Sal went inside to brew fresh tea, Kath turned eyes more stormy than tearful upon Jack.

‘Why didn’t you tell her, you lout?’

Never had he looked more handsome, more desirable, and she hated him for it. One corner of his wide mouth was lifting in that beguiling way he had. She saw a glint of sharp white teeth and the pit of her stomach swelled and ached with a need so strong it unnerved her. Deep blue eyes looked frankly into hers, understanding her absolutely.

`Don’t be a poor loser, Katherine Ellis. You know it’s only my body you covet.’

`Damn you
! I’d like to...’

‘That’s better. I prefer the mad Ellis to the guilty one.’

‘You’ve played us both for fools. She’ll discover that one day, then what?’

‘Are you going to tell her?’ He was careful not to show his unease. He didn’t want his plans spoiled by a spurned female who was feeling a bit piqued.

‘Do you think I would?’

‘Who’s played with whom, anyroad? I didn’t see you protesting.’

‘I didn’t think you were interested in marriage with anyone. Why Meg? She’s sweet. She’s good. Too good for you.’

‘Meg’s okay, and she’s got guts.’

‘More than you deserve. Why marry her? You’ll only make her miserable.’

‘Perhaps I love her.’

Kath gave a scornful laugh. ‘You love her tits.’

‘Yours are pretty good too,’ he said calmly, letting his eyes rove frankly over her body.

It was the last straw. Eyes blazing, Kath grasped the fabric of her lemon silk print frock that had cost her an arm and a leg at Kendal Milne’s in Manchester, and ripped it apart. Her breasts gleamed with a pale beauty in the sparkling sun, dark nipples peaking with the hard fury of her need. ‘Go on, check them out, just in case you’ve got them mixed up and chosen the wrong ones. I’d hate you to make a mistake at this late stage.’

For a long, terrible moment they glared at each other then Meg’s voice called from the kitchen door, asking if they wanted the tea out there. Kath gave a little sob, pulled the wrecked fabric about herself and, turning swiftly, ran blindly away.

Chapter Nine

Poland had been invaded, Hitler had signed an agreement with the Soviet Union thus securing his eastern defences, and Britain was to fight for liberty and justice. King George VI told everyone as much on that fateful Sunday evening, 3 September. He said that by speaking to them on the wireless it was as if ‘I were able to cross your threshold and speak to you myself’. Words of comfort and resolution, helping to ease the fear. Meg and Sally Ann, sitting listening alone at Ashlea, burst into tears and sang a patriotic song, all at the same time.

The tension that had been determinedly kept back all summer now expressed itself in action. Black-out curtains were made, windows taped, sandbags packed the walls of the local hospitals, beloved motor cars were offered to help move any wounded and people queued to volunteer for service or waited half fearful, half excited, for their call-up.

And everyone fearfully scanned the skies for sight of the first German bombers.

Having no cellar, nor access to a shelter of any kind, all Meg and Sally Ann could do was check that the window shutters worked and cut out black paper to stick round the edge of the glass to cover any possible chinks of light.

‘What will it be like, war?’

Sally Ann shook her head, carrot hair sticking out at odd angles from being raked by anguished fingers. ‘Heaven knows, but I’m glad I have you, Meg, and I’m not here all alone. Will Dan have to go?’

‘Shouldn’t think so. Farming is an important occupation in wartime. People still have to have food. But what about us? What do we women do? I feel we should have some purpose beyond making black-out curtains.’

‘I suppose we look after the men. As we always do.’

Meg looked suddenly fierce. ‘There’s got to be more to it than that. Maybe I’ll ride my bike into Kendal and ask around.’

‘Joe won’t like that.’

‘Blow him.’

‘Well, don’t forget your gas mask.’

Meg put it on and they both burst into a fit of giggles. ‘I think the stink of the rubber would knock me out if I had to wear it for more than a minute.’

But Joe wouldn’t hear of her going into Kendal. ‘We still have work to do, girl. War or no war.’

Life at Ashlea continued as normal, and, in a way, Meg hoped that would long remain so. She couldn’t bear to think of the alternative.

But only days later, everything changed.

Charlie was the first. He came and told her he’d volunteered. Meg’s heart dropped like a stone as she stared into her young brother’s face, alive with idealistic fervour and suppressed excitement.

‘How could you? You’re only just turned eighteen. And you don’t have to enlist, not as a farmer.’

He came and sat opposite her, took her hands between his. ‘I’m not a farmer, Meg. Never was. Dad’s the farmer, and our Dan. They wouldn’t necessarily let me stay here, anyway. But you know, you’ve always known, that I want to fly. The RAF recruitment officer says I’m just the sort of chap they’re looking for.’

‘Yes, of course he does.’ She snatched her hands away, too upset to keep the bitterness from her voice. She knew only that Charlie was going off into unknown danger and she was filled with a terrible fear. ‘Silly young fools who haven’t the first idea what they’re letting themselves in for, that’s what they’re looking for.’

A bright stain of scarlet ran beneath his pale skin. ‘Don’t call me a fool, Meg, I’m not that. I’m doing my bit, in the only way I know.’

‘But a flyer. Do you know how dangerous that would be?’

He stood up quickly and turned away, impatient with her inability to understand. Picking up his jacket, he made one last attempt. ‘Goering says he will blacken our skies with his bombers. And I say, just you try, mate, and see what you get. We’ll shoot every one of your damned planes down.’

‘Oh, Charlie.’ She knew they were naïve words, bravely offered, and folded her arms about him as she had so often done when he was small and had fallen and hurt himself. She hugged him as tightly as she could, wanting to keep him safe, keep him with her as if he were still a child and she could protect him for always.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks and he was hugging her now, assuring her everything would be all right, when they both knew he could offer no such assurance. Then Meg was packing sandwiches and clean underwear, issuing foolish instructions about keeping warm and taking care, and he was climbing into the old Ford van and Dan was driving him away into the unknown.

But there was worse in store.

It had started as a perfectly ordinary morning with the washing blowing on the line, Sal and she preparing vegetables for dinner and Joe taking a break with a mug of tea by the kitchen range. Then Jack stood in the kitchen doorway, the first time he had come voluntarily to her house. His dark hair brushed the door lintel where the lucky horse shoe was nailed to keep out evil spirits. He looked at Meg and she knew. He was leaving too.

‘I’m going into the Navy.’ His voice was quiet, unlike his usual confident self. And there, in the bag he dropped by the table, was the proof that she was about to lose him. Sally Ann put down the potato knife she was using and quietly left the kitchen, dragging a complaining Joe with her.

Meg lifted her chin and bravely faced the man she loved. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t.

‘Must you go right away? It’s all happening too quickly. It’s only yesterday that Charlie left.’ She thought of the new blue dress upstairs in her closet waiting for her honeymoon, her mother’s wedding dress waiting to be worn again, but he was nodding, not quite meeting her eyes.

‘I don’t want to be put into some Army unit. It’s the sea for me. Always has been a fancy of mine.’

‘This isn’t a cruise you’re going on,’ she said, her voice breaking.

‘I know that. We start our training in Liverpool, first thing in the morning.’ There was an excitement about him, an intensity of expectation, and Meg fell silent as a sudden awkwardness hung between them. ‘I’ll be home again before you’ve even missed me,’ he consoled her.

‘Yes, of course you will.’ They both knew this might not be true.

There was so much she wanted to say to him but no words would come. They seemed insignificant in comparison with what they now faced. But there was one thing she must ask.

‘What about the wedding? Can’t we marry before you go?’

Jack shook his head, very purposeful and decisive all of a sudden. ‘No time. Have to wait till I get leave.’ He thrust his hands in his pockets and walked to the window, looking out over the fells. ‘Anyway, this is no time to think of marriage, with the war and everything.’

‘I hear lots of people are rushing to get married before it’s…’ she stopped and hastily readjusted her words as she realised what she’d been about to say. ‘Before their fiancé leaves.’

He turned to look at her, his eyes dark and unreadable, gone from her to some other place. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you? Being rushed. Let’s leave it, for the moment, till we see how things settle down.’

Meg lowered her head, blinked hard and managed to give a little nod. She thought her heart was breaking. ‘You’ll write?’

He came to her then, took her in his arms and held her close, his chin against her hair, drinking in the sweet fragrance of her. And for the first time in his life Jack Lawson wondered if perhaps he did love this sweet girl more than he realised. At least, as much as he was capable of loving anybody. ‘Of course I’ll write. I shall expect loads of letters from you too, every week at least, and a photo to make the other chaps jealous.’

She laughed, a small hiccuping sound, but dared say nothing, not just then. The pain in her breast was too much to bear.

‘You’ll look after yourself. Don’t work too hard,’ he teased. Then lifting her hands kissed each fingertip gently, sensually, with the warmth of his lips. ‘Keep yourself pretty for me. No calluses on these lovely hands, eh?’

‘You sound like Father. Women will have to work too, you know, if the men are all called up. I’ll have to do my bit, Jack.’

‘We’re not going to quarrel, are we? Not when I’m leaving.’

She laid her head on his shoulder. He was so strong, so handsome, so brave. She felt ashamed of her outburst, wishing she could take back the words, spoken too fiercely because of her distress. ‘No, course not.’

‘There’ll be plenty of time, when it’s all over, for marriage and all that. Don’t offer to come to the station with me. No goodbyes, eh? Just promise me one thing.’

‘Anything.’ Meg was proud and astonished how normal her voice sounded.

‘Take care of Lanky for me. He’s a funny old soul but he is my dad.’

‘As if you need to ask.’

There was nothing left to say. His kiss was deep and long and broke her heart, then he was gone and she was alone looking out on to a beautiful sunny September day and wondering how it was the larks could still be singing.

Meg had never felt so alone in her life before. Charlie gone, and Jack, even Kath absent, gone off on holiday. What a time to choose. Perhaps she’d come back now that war had been declared. Oh, she did hope so.

More than anything, she needed a friend right now.

Ruby Nelson’s boarding house took pride of place on the corner of a row of tall Victorian villas. The wide, tree-lined avenue, its pavements broad enough for the crinolines of a more genteel age, had one end open to the sea, a determined walk away. The wind funnelled up its length and swirled through the rarely open front door of number six, to rustle the newspapers piled tidily upon the hall table for guests to share.

Kath gazed up at the house with sinking heart. This was not at all the escape she had once planned or dreamed of. Why hadn’t she gone to London? It wasn’t as if she was afraid of being bombed.

It all came down to money. For the first time in her life Katherine Ellis was short of funds. She had her allowance of course, but had never troubled about sticking to it so was not good at budgeting. Daddy was always ready to stump up more whenever she needed it. Or had been, until recently. Lately he’d been complaining that his investments wouldn’t last for ever and his pension wasn’t going near as far as he’d hoped. He’d even cautioned her to acquire the art of thrift, which was perfectly ridiculous.