Authors: Lily Baxter
She arrived at last, pink-cheeked and windblown. ‘Tommy borrowed a motorbike,’ she said as she peeled off her gloves and unwound her scarf. ‘He can lay his hands on almost anything. It’s a gift.’
‘I’m sure it must be. Good for him.’ Miranda felt a pang of something like regret as she remembered her motorcycle ride with Gil and the awkwardness of their parting. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. ‘Where is he?’
‘He’s chatting to old Elzevir who was lurking round outside. I think he wanted to be invited to the party.’
The image that this conjured up in Miranda’s mind made her chuckle. ‘At least his presence would liven things up. I’m beginning to think that this shindig was a really bad idea.’
‘I was really sorry to hear about your dad, Miranda.’ Rita grabbed her by the hand. ‘But cheer up, ducks. I’m here now and we’ve got loads to talk about. I just wish you was at Warmwell too. We’d have a high old time together.’
‘It would be nice to be nearer home, but I don’t suppose there’s much chance of me getting a transfer. Anyway, come into the warm. You look chilled to the marrow.’
‘I’d best wait for Tommy. He’s a bit shy when it comes to mixing with the toffs.’ She glanced over Miranda’s shoulder and her expression changed to one of surprise and pleasure. ‘Look who’s just walked through the door.’
Miranda turned her head and uttered a cry of pleasure. ‘Uncle Jack.’ She started towards him but stopped short when she saw Isabel clinging to his arm, looking pale and nervous as Jack introduced her to his mother.
Miranda held her breath as she watched her grandmother’s face. Maggie’s smile froze. ‘Jack, how could you do this to me?’
‘Mrs Beddoes, please don’t be cross with Jack,’ Isabel said in a low voice. ‘It was my idea. I wanted desperately to meet you in the hope that we could put an end to the difficult situation that exists between our families.’
Maggie braced her shoulders. ‘Jack, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to take this young person home. She is not welcome in my house, and you are a gullible fool.’
She was about to turn away but Jack caught her by the wrist. ‘Mother, don’t be so bloody rude. I’m not going to stand for this nonsense any longer.’
‘How dare you speak to me like that?’
‘I dare, mother, because you’re being pig-headed and abominably cruel to the woman I love.’
Maggie turned to Miranda with a cry of anguish.
‘Go
and fetch your grandfather. I won’t be treated like this in my own house.’
‘I’d better go,’ Isabel said urgently, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Beddoes. I really don’t know what this is all about …’ She let go of Jack’s arm and was about to retreat down the steps when Miranda leapt forward.
‘Don’t go, Isabel.’ She turned her head to glare at her grandmother. ‘Granny, this party or wake or whatever you like to call it was supposed to be in memory of my father. Do you really think he would want this sort of thing to happen? I don’t understand why you feel like this about the Carstairs family, but it’s not Isabel’s fault, or her brother’s for that matter.’
‘Mind your own business, Miranda. It has nothing to do with you.’
‘But it has, Granny. Can’t you call a truce for one night at least? My dad’s gone and he won’t be coming back, but Uncle Jack is alive and well and families should stick together.’ Miranda’s voice broke on a sob.
Jack put his arm around her shoulders. ‘I hope you’re satisfied now, Mother. Hasn’t Miranda been through enough without you spitting venom at my fiancée?’ He nodded his head. ‘Yes, that’s right. Isabel and I are engaged. I brought her with me tonight so that we could announce it officially to family and friends.’
White-lipped, Maggie drew herself up to her full
height
. ‘I’ve lost my eldest son. Tonight is about Ronnie, not you.’
‘He was my brother and I loved him too, but Isabel is going to be my wife. You’ll have to accept that, or lose me too, Mother.’
‘We’ll talk about this at a more suitable time, but as she’s here you’d better bring her in. I’ve nothing further to say.’ Maggie stalked off towards the drawing room.
‘I’d better go, Jack,’ Isabel whispered. ‘It will only spoil the party if I stay.’
His jaw hardened into a stubborn line that Miranda remembered so well. ‘No, darling,’ he said firmly. ‘We’ll see this thing through together.’ He took Isabel by the hand and led her towards the drawing room.
‘Blimey,’ Rita said softly. ‘That was quite a show. Whatever next?’
Miranda shook her head. ‘I can’t imagine that Granny will give in easily, but Jack’s right. It’s ridiculous to bear grudges for such a long time.’
Rita opened the front door. ‘Tommy, I know you’re there. Come in now. They won’t bite.’
He came slowly up the steps and Miranda could not help feeling sorry for him. Tommy might be brash and seemingly full of confidence but she could see that he was feeling uncomfortable and out of his depth. ‘It was good of you to come. I know this isn’t your sort of thing, Tommy.’
‘It’s nothing.’ He slipped his arm around Rita’s waist. ‘Come on, love. We’ll show ’em.’
Miranda followed them into the drawing room prepared to do her duty, but dreading it all the same. She could only hope that her grandmother would concentrate on her friends and leave Jack and Izzie to enjoy themselves as best they could, although she could feel the atmosphere the moment she walked into the room. She left Rita and Tommy to their own devices while she paid attention to Isabel, who was temporarily abandoned while Jack went to fetch their drinks. She summoned up a smile. ‘It was brave of you to come tonight, Izzie.’
‘I think I might owe you an apology,’ Isabel said, blushing. ‘I know it was a long time ago, but I was a bit tiddley that night. I’m afraid I might have been quite rude to you, although I can’t remember a thing. Raif was frightfully cross with me, and I’m sure I deserved it.’
‘Can’t we forget all that?’ Miranda glanced round anxiously, hoping that her grandmother was not within earshot. ‘It was ages ago, and it really doesn’t matter.’
‘Thank you,’ Isabel said, smiling. ‘I always liked you, Miranda.’
‘What does Raif say about you getting engaged to my uncle?’
Isabel’s smile faded and she shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know about it yet, and anyway it’s not up to him, but I’m worried about how my parents will react. I haven’t told them that Jack and I have been seeing each other.’
‘It’s the Montagues and the Capulets all over again,’ Miranda said with a wry smile.
‘Except that I’m not thirteen. I’ll be twenty-one in May and then I can do as I please. My family won’t have a say in the matter.’
‘Good for you.’
‘At least the war has made me stand on my own two feet. I’ve got a job in the torpedo factory. My parents were absolutely horrified, but I didn’t really have a lot of choice. I had to sign up for something and I actually quite enjoy what I’m doing.’
‘That must have taken a lot of courage, Izzie.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Not really. I’m a terrible coward and Jack is so fearless.’ Isabel glanced at her fiancé who was making his way towards them with a glass of wine in each hand. ‘He’s so wonderful and I’m such a lucky girl.’
Miranda was trying to think of something suitable to say when the sound of the air raid siren reverberated around the room bringing conversation to a sudden halt.
‘There’s room in the shelter for the ladies,’ George announced in a loud voice. ‘Unfortunately there won’t be enough space for everyone, but let’s get the ladies to safety and worry about ourselves afterwards. I’ll switch off the lights if my wife will open the French windows and lead the way.’
There was a sudden hush when the lights went out, and for a moment no one moved. Miranda grabbed Isabel by the hand and led her towards the
blast
of cold air whistling in through the open doors. ‘Mind the steps.’
‘It’s so dark,’ Isabel said nervously. ‘I can’t see a thing.’
Rita followed them out onto the veranda. ‘I know the way, love,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Follow me, girls. Rita to the rescue.’ She patted Miranda on the shoulder. ‘Come on, don’t be a hero.’
‘You go first. I’ll see everyone out.’ Miranda glanced up into the sky criss-crossed with searchlights and the tracer fire from the battery of ack-ack guns. Suddenly the lawn was lit like daylight and the women in their high heels and long dresses scampered to the relative safety of the Anderson shelter. Jack appeared at her side. ‘Where’s Isabel?’
‘Don’t worry, she’s safe. Rita took her to the shelter.’
‘You must go too,’ Jack said urgently. ‘And please don’t let Mother bully her, Miranda.’
It was freezing in the shelter and they were crushed together on the wooden benches with their feet in pools of icy water. Shivering in their thin clothes, the women were unusually quiet. Even Rita had nothing to say as they listened to the crump-crump of distant explosions and the constant firing of the ack-ack guns. The silence lay heavily upon them all until Rita started to sing. At first the others stared at her as if she had gone quite mad, and prim little Mrs Walters looked as though she might faint, but
Maggie
nudged her in the ribs and joined in with the chorus of Run Rabbit, Run in a deep contralto that surprised Miranda almost as much as the fact that Izzie also began to sing. Soon everyone, even Mrs Walters, was singing ‘I’ll be with you in Apple Blossom Time’, followed by ‘Say Little Hen’, and as the fug from their breath and warm bodies threatened to turn the puddles into steam they heard the all clear and there was an undignified scramble to escape from the shelter.
As they made their way back across the lawn Miranda could hear raucous male voices emanating from the coach house. She turned to Rita who was walking beside her. ‘Oh my God. You know what that means.’
Rita glanced over her shoulder at Maggie, who was helping Mrs Walters negotiate the tussocks of grass. ‘I can guess, and I bet Tommy’s at the bottom of it.’
‘Best get the women into the house before they realise what’s going on.’ Miranda sprinted up the steps onto the veranda. She flung the French windows wide open and in the dull glow of the firelight she could see her grandfather, the judge and the doctor sitting around the fire, smoking cigars and drinking brandies. ‘Everyone inside quickly,’ she said, ushering the women into the room. ‘Come in, ladies, and I’ll make some nice hot cocoa for anyone who doesn’t fancy a stiff brandy.’
‘Brandy for me, dear,’ Ivy said, pushing past her.
‘Gentlemen
, who’s going to come to the aid of a lady in distress?’
Miranda heard the chairs scrape on the polished floorboards as the gentlemen rose hastily to their feet, and she ushered the rest of the shivering women into the drawing room.
Maggie helped Mrs Walters over the threshold. ‘There’s a terrible din in the coach house,’ she whispered in Miranda’s ear. ‘Go and see what’s happening, and if it’s what I think, for God’s sake shut them up. If the judge gets wind of what’s going on he might leap to the wrong conclusion and your grandfather could end up in prison. Go now, and hurry.’
Chapter Twelve
‘WHAT’S ALL THAT
din, Manda?’ Rita said breathlessly as she followed Miranda outside.
‘That’s what I intend to find out.’ Miranda came to a halt as she saw Isabel standing at the top of the steps, looking wraith-like in the moonlight.
‘I can hear Jack’s voice,’ Isabel said through chattering teeth. ‘I think he must be drunk.’
‘And he’s not alone by the sound of it,’ Rita said, chuckling. ‘It must be a hell of a party going on in the coach house.’
Miranda picked up her long skirts and raced down the steps. ‘We’ve got to shut them up before they ruin everything.’ She went straight to the coach house, where in the flickering light of a single candle she found Jack perched on a stool by the workbench and Elzevir sitting cross-legged on the floor, while Tommy swayed on his feet conducting an imaginary orchestra. They stopped singing the moment the door opened. Jack raised a half-empty bottle to Isabel. ‘Here’s to my beautiful fiancée and to the memory of my poor brother. God rest his soul. It’s a rotten send-off, but it’s the best I can do.’ He hiccuped and
grinned
stupidly. ‘Izzie, darling. Come and have a drink.’
She stared at him in dismay. ‘Jack. How could you?’
‘Leave him alone, miss.’ Elzevir struggled to his feet. ‘He’s a good chap. I won’t have anyone say anything against my mate Jack.’
‘Elzevir Shipway, that’s enough.’ Miranda adopted the tone her grandmother might have used. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’ She glared at each of them in turn. ‘You should all be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves. You could get my grandfather locked up for having an illicit still on the premises, even if he did intend it for scientific purposes.’
‘Hold on, love,’ Jack said, focusing on her with apparent difficulty. ‘This isn’t a still. The old man is making …’ he paused, frowning, ‘he’s making something.’ His voice trailed off and he looked suddenly like a small boy. ‘Sorry, Izzie. I’m a bit squiffy.’
She rushed forward and snatched the bottle from his hand, throwing it against the wall where it smashed and sent shards of broken glass onto the cement floor. ‘You most certainly are. I’m so angry with you, Jack. You’ve ruined everything and now your mother will hate me even more.’
Rita marched up to Tommy and slapped his face. ‘You’re an idiot. I don’t know why I bother with you, Toop.’
He held his hand to his cheek, gazing at her in astonishment. ‘That’s not fair, love. We was just having a little drink to keep out the cold.’
Miranda could see that this was getting them nowhere. ‘Will you all please shut up,’ she said in desperation. ‘Elzevir, go home. I’ll leave Annie to sort you out in the morning.’ She shooed him out of the door and he shambled off into the night muttering beneath his breath. She turned her head to glare angrily at Jack and Tommy. ‘You’d better go to the kitchen and stay out of sight. I’ll make some black coffee.’
‘I’ll clear up the broken glass,’ Rita said, casting a withering glance at Tommy. ‘And you’d better sober up. I’m not riding pillion with you in that state.’