Sealed With a Loving Kiss (7 page)

BOOK: Sealed With a Loving Kiss
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Peggy unwrapped the packet and gasped in delight, for he couldn't have brought anything more useful. She admired the small plaster bride and groom standing hand in hand beneath a trellis arch, and the length of lovely blue ribbon which held two perfect little silver bells.

‘Oh, Martin,' she breathed. ‘They're perfect. But how on earth did you find them? I've been scouring the shops for days.'

‘One of my pilots got married the other week to a lovely girl whose father owns a patisserie in London. I knew from Anne's letter you were having trouble finding anything to put on the cake, so when I asked, they very kindly said I could borrow them.'

‘I'll write a note to thank them before you have to go back to the airdrome,' she said. ‘How kind and thoughtful to let us have them. Suzy will be delighted – and I promise we'll take great care of them.' She quickly wrapped the decorations back in their paper and put them safely away in the top drawer of her bedroom chest.

They sat down at the table and tucked into the soup and bread, while Peggy fed Daisy and Harvey sat by Martin's knee in the faint hope he might get something to eat as well.

‘So,' said Ron as they ate and discussed the war news. ‘Is Malta as badly damaged as the newspapers say?'

Martin nodded. ‘It was one of my chaps who flew that special reporter out there, and he said it defied description. Seventy-five percent of Valetta has been destroyed, and the rest of the island has been virtually reduced to piles of matchsticks and rubble. They reckon that even with normal supplies and facilities it will take sixty years to rebuild Malta's towns and villages.'

‘The casualties must have been very high,' murmured Peggy.

Martin smiled at her. ‘Actually, they were miraculously low considering the bombardment the island has had to withstand. The soft rock it's built on is ideal for underground shelters, and out of a population of a quarter of a million, there were fewer than three thousand killed or seriously injured.'

‘To be sure, that is a miracle,' sighed Ron. ‘Especially when you think we lost so many just a few weeks ago after the hotel and boarding houses were hit down on the seafront.'

‘I heard all about that.' Martin slipped his last crust of bread to Harvey. ‘And I understand you and Harvey have been nominated by the press for some sort of bravery awards?'

‘A lot of fuss over nothing if you ask me,' grumbled Ron.

‘Not at all. What you did was very courageous, and you should be justly rewarded.' Martin stroked Harvey's head and patted his back. ‘If this one gets recognition for all the times he's gone in to rescue people, then it's well deserved.'

‘Well, if he does, I'll frame it and put it up on the mantelpiece in place of honour alongside all my photographs,' said Peggy as she slipped Harvey her own hard crust – she still hadn't got used to the gritty taste of the National Loaf and the crusts hurt her teeth. Harvey had no such discernment, and the crust disappeared without touching the sides.

‘Ah, that reminds me. Here's something else you can put up there,' said Martin as he handed Peggy an envelope. ‘Don't worry, I have copies back at Cliffe.'

Peggy drew out some small black-and-white pictures and studied the sweet face of her dark-eyed daughter Anne as she sat with Emily Jane in her arms and Rose Margaret at her knee. It had been taken in Vi's Somerset farmhouse as the light streamed in through the large window of the sitting room onto the comfortable old rocking chair.

‘Emily Jane has lots of dark hair,' she said admiringly, ‘and she looks just like Anne at that age. And how tall Rose is now, and how well and happy she looks. She's gorgeous, Martin – they both are. You must be very proud.'

Martin blinked rapidly, cleared his throat and made a great play of filling his pipe. ‘I am, but I'd have felt much happier if I could have been down there with Anne when Emily arrived. I know she had the magnificent Vi looking after her, but it was hard for her, poor darling.'

‘Harder for you being so far from them all, and living under such a strain,' said Peggy softly as she passed the photographs to Ron. ‘Will you be able to get some leave soon, so you can visit them all?'

Martin passed the roll of tobacco to Ron and puffed on his pipe before he replied. ‘All leave is cancelled for a while. There are many more raids planned, and we're losing aircraft and men at an alarming rate, so I'm afraid it's all hands to the wheel.'

Peggy stared at him. ‘But that doesn't mean you, surely? You've done more than your bit already – and even the RAF have recognised that, which is why you've been flying a desk …' She tailed off as she saw his expression, and her spirits plummeted. ‘Oh, Martin, no.'

He examined the bowl of his pipe for a moment. ‘I'm afraid it does mean me leaving my desk again, Peggy,' he said solemnly, ‘which is why I was so determined to come over today.' His expression was very serious as he finally looked back at her. ‘I'll be on ops for the foreseeable future, as long as Air Marshall Harris continues his campaign of blanket bombing – and I totally agree with him that it's imperative to keep up the bombardment. The Germans have to be stopped; especially now they're developing some sort of new weapon.'

‘What sort of weapon?' asked Peggy sharply.

‘I think you'd better forget I mentioned that,' he said rather shamefacedly. ‘A bit of a breach of secrets, don't you know.'

‘How can I forget such a thing?' she breathed. ‘What is this weapon supposed to do? Will we be safe in our beds if they fire it?'

‘Peggy, please don't worry about it. The Germans are still at the very earliest stages of experimentation, and we have no intention of letting them develop the thing any further – which is why it's so important we continue with our bombing raids. But this is to go no further, do you understand?'

‘Of course we understand.' Peggy gathered Daisy into her arms to be comforted by her warmth and weight. ‘Oh, Martin, you will be careful, won't you?'

‘I have every intention of coming back in one piece, Peggy, and as I'll be surrounded by some of the world's most skilled airmen, there really is no need to worry.'

Peggy looked unconvinced, so Martin continued, ‘Young Randolph Stevens is flying his Lancaster alongside mine, and both Freddy Pargeter and Roger Makepeace will be accompanying Matthew in their Spitfires to provide us with fighter defence. We've been doing similar runs for some time now, so really, there's no need to fret over any of us.'

The thought of Cissy's Randolph and Rita's Matthew being up there with Kitty's Roger and Freddy gave her no peace of mind at all. But there was a war on, lives were being put at risk every day – and she simply had to accept that and not make Martin's job even harder by making a fuss.

‘Will you be able to come to the wedding?' she asked, determined to change the subject.

‘I sincerely hope so,' he replied, clearly relieved to be moving to an easier topic. ‘But I might be a bit late arriving,' he warned. ‘I'm hoping to dash up and see the parents for a couple of hours that day because I'll be on duty over Christmas and it will be the only chance I'll get. If the traffic's bad, or there's a raid, I could be delayed.'

Peggy had very little time for Martin's parents. They'd treated Anne very badly when she and Martin had been courting, for they'd disapproved of her lowly background and simply refused to accept that their son wanted to marry such a girl. They'd actually bothered to turn up for the wedding after a great deal of shilly-shallying which had hurt Martin dreadfully. But their cool disdain and stiff politeness had set them apart from the other guests, and they'd made their excuses within minutes of the speeches at the reception and left without even saying goodbye.

‘Are they well?' she asked, to be polite.

‘They seem to be coping all right,' said Martin. ‘Unfortunately I don't get to see them much, and they don't write often.' He gave a sigh. ‘I'm rather hoping that the birth of their second granddaughter might alter their attitude to Anne – which is why I want to take the photographs up to show them instead of just sending them in the post.'

Peggy didn't say so, but she doubted either of them would change their snooty opinion of her beautiful daughter – and as far as she was concerned, they could stick their money and position right up their expensive jumpers.

‘Oh, Peggy,' Martin chuckled, ‘your face is a picture. Please, never try and play poker.'

Peggy giggled, and Martin placed his large, warm hand over hers. ‘I know they're trying, and their attitude hurts me as much as it does you and Anne. But when all's said and done, they are my parents, so I can't just ignore them.'

‘I realise that,' said Peggy.

‘Then let's not spoil our time together by being gloomy. You go and make a pot of your famous tea while Daisy and I find some toys to play with.'

There were tears in Peggy's eyes as she put the kettle on the hob. Martin was such a very nice man – one of nature's gentlemen – and she hated the thought that his visits to his parents were made out of duty and not love. It was all terribly sad, for how could any parent not be proud of such a brave son, and of such beautiful grandchildren?

As she hurried off into the bedroom to fetch Cordelia's tin of chocolate biscuits, which she'd hidden away in her wardrobe, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that her children loved her, and if it was only possible, they would all be at home now, sitting round her kitchen table and chattering like sparrows.

The next hour was spent very pleasantly. Martin played on the floor with Daisy and her toys until she fell asleep. Ron regaled him with a very colourful account of the nights in the pub, which reminded him of similar occasions during his boyhood in Ireland. Cordelia passed the delicious biscuits round and told him she was having a lovely suit made out of the tweed her family had sent from Canada, and Harvey sat licking his lips in anticipation of getting his teeth into one of those biscuits.

Peggy finished writing her note to the lovely couple who'd lent her the cake decorations, then sat and watched them all. Her heart was full, for Martin was one of their own and every precious moment he could spend with them was a gift.

He finally looked at the clock and got to his feet. ‘I must go,' he said regretfully, fastening the buttons on his uniform jacket.

He swept a tearful Cordelia into his arms and gave her a hearty kiss, tickling her cheeks with his moustache to bring back her smile.

Then he hugged Peggy, who was battling with her own tears. ‘I'll be back before you know it,' he murmured before turning away to pat Harvey and shake Ron's hand. ‘Look after them all for me, won't you, Ron?'

‘To be sure, don't I always?' Ron grasped his hand firmly as his blue eyes became suspiciously bright. ‘You watch what you're doing up there, boy,' he rumbled. ‘My great-granddaughters are relying on you to come back in one piece – and so am I.' He cleared his throat. ‘Honest to God, Martin, you've no idea how difficult it is for a poor solitary man to survive in this house full of bossy women.'

Martin grinned and softly punched his shoulder. ‘You love it really, you old fraud,' he teased. Then he put on his cap, shot everyone a smile and was running down the steps and walking towards the back gate.

Peggy and Ron followed and stood in the doorway, Harvey between them as Martin turned and waved. And then he was gone.

‘I'm sick of saying goodbye to everyone I love,' said Peggy tearfully. ‘When is this awful war going to end, Ron?'

He put a strong arm round her shoulders and drew her close. ‘When we've beaten the ruddy Germans,' he muttered. ‘And that won't be long now, to be sure, for I'm betting they don't have chocolate biscuits.' He smiled down at her. ‘I seem to remember there are still a couple in the tin, so 'twould be a terrible waste to leave them there to go stale.'

Peggy dug him affectionately in the ribs. ‘Those are Cordelia's and you've already had six.'

He looked down at her in feigned disbelief. ‘Ach, to be sure, Peggy girl, you'll be exaggerating.'

She smiled through her tears. ‘Not at all, you old rogue. I counted every single one, including the half you shared with Harvey.'

Chapter Four

MARY HAD RECEIVED
numerous letters from Barbara and Jack Boniface and her best friend Pat over the past weeks, and she'd read them all so many times that she knew them almost by heart.

Barbara had written long, rambling letters full of love and news and gentle gossip of the goings-on in the Sussex village of Harebridge Green. The young, rather simple-minded Gladys, who'd lost her mother on the same night as the rectory had taken a direct hit, was still happily living with her fearsome aunt, who was encouraging her to help with the WVS. All was well at Black Briar Farm, but two of the land girls had left, so they were a bit short-handed while they waited for their replacements. Her husband, Joseph, was still working long hours and doing his fire-watch and warden duties, but he was well and keeping very fit.

There hadn't been any raids or tip-and-runs since Mary had left the village, but the school had mysteriously burned down one night and it was suspected a couple of the local boys had made a camp in there and set it alight by accident. Its loss was felt by everyone, for the hall had become a popular meeting place for dances, parties and jumble sales.

Pat's letters were quite short, but she was still working at the rope factory and enjoying a hectic social life, and was now courting a young French Canadian soldier. She bemoaned the fact that the clothing ration was stricter than ever, and that the dowdy grey, black or navy utility clothing in the shops did absolutely nothing to flatter even the prettiest and most shapely girl.

Jack's letters had become more hastily written and were much shorter as he'd been immersed in his qualification course for the commandos, which he was finding far tougher than he'd expected but was enjoying immensely. He was still hoping to get some leave, but if he made the grade and got into this elite regiment he wasn't at all sure if it would be possible. He thought about her often and missed her horribly, and hoped she hadn't forgotten about him in all the excitement of her new life in Cliffehaven.

BOOK: Sealed With a Loving Kiss
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