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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #Romance, #20th Century, #General

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BOOK: Welcome Home
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‘Ah, I see now where all the food’s come from. That was very kind of them.’

Shirley came in from the scullery carrying a sponge cake filled with cream. ‘And just look at this, Dad. Mrs Schofield sent this too. Would you like some bacon and egg? There’s
plenty.’

Archie pulled out a chair across the table from where Frank was devouring his meal. ‘I wouldn’t say no, lass. Thanks.’

Shirley disappeared back into the scullery and they soon heard the spitting of bacon frying. The smell drifting into the room made Archie’s mouth water. When Shirley set it in front of
him, Archie said, ‘By, this is a meal fit for a king.’

‘I’ve done you some fried bread too. I know how you like it.’

The two women helped themselves to a piece of cake. ‘What about you, Reggie love?’ Edie said. ‘You’ve brought all this and yet you’re the one not eating.’

‘I’m fine, Mam, ta. I had a big dinner before we set off.’

Frank sat back and gave a sigh of satisfaction. ‘I don’t reckon I’ve tasted food as good as that for five years or more.’

Edie watched him, willing him to talk about the one subject that was on everyone’s mind, but Frank seemed content to drink his tea and talk about the rest of the family. Anything, it
seemed, other than about his wife.

‘I can’t believe how you’ve grown, young Reg. Are you staying in the country, then?’

Reggie beamed and his eyes lit up. ‘Mr and Mrs Schofield want me to stay and work on the farm. And it’s what I want to do.’ He glanced at Archie as he added, ‘Sorry, Dad,
but I really don’t want to go to sea.’

‘I’m glad, Son. It’s been a good life for me, but it’s not for everyone.’

‘What about you, Frank? What are you going to do when you come home?’

It seemed as if everyone in the room was holding their breath, but Frank only smiled and said, ‘I expect it’ll be the sea for me. It’s all I know.’

Edie could contain herself no longer. ‘What are you going to do about’ – she gestured with her head towards the wall between the houses – ‘
her
?’

Frank frowned, but before he could answer, Archie said firmly, ‘Now, now, Edie, leave it, love. It’s for Frank and Irene to talk things through. It’s nowt to do with
us.’

‘It’s everything to do with us, Archie. She’s no better than a—’

Edie wasn’t allowed to finish her sentence as Frank put up his hand to silence them all. Then quietly he said, ‘I’ve already made up my mind what’s going to happen and it
will all be sorted out in the morning. It’s too late tonight. The children will be in bed. It’ll wait another few hours. In the meantime, can you put me up for tonight, Mam? If not I
can—’

‘Of course I can. I wouldn’t hear of you going anywhere else. The beds are all made up in the attic bedroom.’

Shirley chuckled as she put in, ‘Just as they have been ever since you both left.’

They all stared at Edie, who wriggled her shoulders in embarrassment and said, ‘Well, I never knew when any of you might come home unexpected-like, did I? I’ve kept them well
aired.’

Archie got up and went to kiss his wife on her cheek. ‘And now you’ve got three of ’em home, all at once.’

‘Yes, yes, I have,’ Edie said happily, trying hard to keep her mind off what would happen the next day.

Frank had still given them no clue as to what he intended to do.

Fifty-One

Lil rushed into the house and slammed the back door behind her, leaning against it. She was trembling, her heart hammering nineteen to the dozen, as the saying went. She put
her hand to her chest. The shock of seeing him was so unexpected. And now she must tell Irene.

When she’d calmed herself a little, though her hands still shook, she opened the door into the living room and sat down opposite Irene, who was giving the baby her last night-time feed
beside the fire. Tommy was already in bed. Irene glanced up and saw the anxiety in her mother’s eyes.

‘What is it, Mam? Has that old biddy next door been having a go at you again?’

Lil shook her head. At last she burst out, ‘He’s home, Irene. I’ve just seen him going in by their back door.’

The colour drained from Irene’s face as she whispered. ‘Frank?’

Lil nodded.

‘Then – then he’ll be coming here.’ There was a slight pause before she added, almost pathetically, ‘Won’t he?’

‘I – I expect so. But probably not tonight. He – he’s a thoughtful lad. He’d not want to upset Tommy this late.’

Lil and her daughter stared at each other, both knowing that neither of them would sleep this night.

His decision made – and he intended to stick to it whatever anyone said – Frank slept soundly, but in the next room, Edie lay awake, staring into the darkness and
listening to the baby crying through the wall. What was Frank going to do? Surely, surely he wouldn’t think of taking her back, would he? No, no, she wouldn’t let him. He’d listen
to his mam. She still knew what was best for him – for all her family. And yet, Edie was forced to admit that one by one they seemed to be slipping away from her, making their own decisions
and living their own lives.

But Frank was different; he would take notice of her. Shirley had always been a bit of a madam and as for Reggie, well, she blamed the Schofields. He’d gone to them at an impressionable
age and impress him they certainly had!

Edie slept restlessly and woke with a headache. Frank was late up and both Shirley and Reggie had gone out by the time he appeared downstairs, needing a shave at the sink in the scullery.

‘Breakfast?’ Edie asked sharply, her nerves on edge. She could see trouble coming today. There’d be tears from Irene and that would likely set Tommy off and she wasn’t
even sure that Archie agreed with her. He’d been round to Lil’s a lot recently – ostensibly to see Tommy or to take him out – but he’d seemed to stay sometimes far
longer than was strictly necessary to collect the boy or see him home again. Archie was sitting in his chair reading the morning paper when Frank, clean-shaven and dressed in his uniform trousers
and shirt, sat down at the table.

‘So,’ Edie said bluntly, as she pushed a cup of tea towards him. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Talk to Irene,’ Frank said, ‘and then we’ll see.’

‘I think I’ll have a walk up to the pub,’ Archie said, heaving himself out of his chair. Coward, Edie thought to herself, wanting to snap at him, but she remained silent.
Archie hated family rows and there was every possibility that there was going to be some sort of ruckus today. He reached for his muffler and cap and left by the back door.

Frank finished eating, stood up and went out into the backyard. Edie held her breath as she heard the wooden door between the two houses open and close again. Then there was silence as she
waited – and waited. After what seemed an age to her, though in reality it was only a few minutes, Frank came back.

‘Well?’

‘Irene’s coming round here in a minute, Mam.’

Edie stared at her son and pursed her lips. ‘I don’t want that little trollop in my house, I—’

‘Mam.’ There was a warning note in Frank’s tone. ‘Me and Irene have got some serious talking to do.’

‘You are going to divorce her, aren’t you?’

Frank shook his head.

Edie sank down into a chair and rested her arms on the table. ‘Aw, Son, you’re never thinking of taking her back. Not after—’

Frank held up his hand, palm outwards, to halt whatever his mother had been about to say. ‘That’s for me and Irene to sort out, Mam, there’s a love.’

Edie opened her mouth, but whatever she might have been going to say – and Frank was sure he knew just what it was – was halted by a tentative knock at the back door. That alone
spoke volumes. Ever since she could walk, Irene had come into Aunty Edie’s house, often without even knocking, but now . . .

Frank wagged a cautionary finger at his mother and moved to open the door, flinging it wide in a clear gesture of welcome.

‘Hello, duck, come on in.’

Edie stared open-mouthed, but she said not a word as Frank reached out to take the little girl from Irene’s arms.

‘I’m sorry, Frank,’ Irene said hesitantly, ‘I would have left her with Mam, but she was crying – and then Tommy wanted to come too.’

‘Of course he did. Come on in – all of you.’

He carried Marie towards the hearth and sat down in his father’s chair with the baby on his knee. He stroked her blond curls and smiled down at her. Solemnly, she gazed up at him. Tommy
sidled to stand beside his father’s chair and leaned against his shoulder. He had no early memories of the man, but he’d taken to him instantly; Frank was the only one who’d shown
Tommy’s sister any kindness. Except his Granny Lil, of course, but she didn’t count. You expected grannies to love you. Mam had told him that this man was his dad. It was all a bit
confusing. He’d thought Ken – the man in the blue uniform they’d known at the farm – was his father but his mam had warned him that he must never mention the handsome
airman’s name again.

‘You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?’ Frank was saying softly to the little girl, who was gazing up at him with wide blue eyes, but it was Tommy who smiled and said
innocently, ‘She’s my sister.’

Without looking up, Frank said gently, ‘I know, lad, I know.’ Then he looked up to see Irene still hovering uncertainly in the doorway. ‘Come on in, Irene. Mam won’t
bite.’

Edie gave what sounded suspiciously like a snort, but she said nothing as her daughter-in-law moved hesitantly further into the room. Edie knew Frank wanted to talk to his wife on his own, but
stubbornly, she refused to move. This was still her house, her home and—

‘D’you mind, Mam?’

Edie opened her mouth to say, yes, she minded. She minded very much but something stopped her. Maybe it was the look on Frank’s face, maybe it was the sight of him dandling the baby girl
on his knee – the way he was smiling at her, his arm protectively round her and Tommy standing close to him. As Irene sat down on the edge of the chair opposite him, they looked like a family
– a complete family. Edie felt something swelling in her chest. It was a feeling she didn’t understand. Was it fear of what she now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Frank was going to
do? Or was it – strangely – an overflowing of pride in this man who was her son; a real man in every sense of the word who was prepared to forgive his wife in a way that she, Edie, had
not been able to do?

Archie had said as much only last night as they were getting into bed. ‘Our Frank’ll know his own mind. He’ll do the right thing and we’ll abide by it, Edie,’
he’d said. ‘You hear me?’

She hadn’t been prepared to listen to her husband then, but seeing them together now, she knew she had to do what Archie had said.

If Frank could forgive, then so must she. Slowly, she rose to her feet on legs that were a little unsteady. ‘I’ll – um – leave you to it then,’ she murmured, but
Frank and Irene didn’t seem to hear her or even notice her slip out of the back door and make her way to her neighbour’s back door. It had been a long time – far too long –
since she’d spoken to Lil and she regretted all the harsh words.

She took a deep breath and opened the back door.

‘You there, Lil? Get the kettle on, duck, I’ve summat to tell you.’

Archie had escaped to the pub; he hadn’t long to wait until lunchtime opening. He’d known what was going to happen that morning and he’d wanted to be out of
the way. Late last night Frank had confided his intentions in his father and had been given his blessing. Archie was happy about the outcome. They’d lost too much already in this war to bear
grudges and carry bitterness for years to come. He mourned the loss of his eldest son and would do so until his dying day. And there wasn’t a day went by without him thinking about Beth. And
he was sure it was the same for Edie though they didn’t speak about her much now. As for Reggie, he was well settled in the countryside. It was a good life and Archie was content to let him
stay there, though he wasn’t so sure that Edie was happy about it. So, all in all, Archie was ready to move on, to embrace whatever the future held for them all and if that included welcoming
a baby, who wasn’t of his blood, into the family, then so be it.

And yet, for all his decisions, he was still unsettled. As if there was still something else that was going to happen. He couldn’t relax in his usual seat in the pub, he wasn’t even
enjoying his favourite beer. He was restless and he didn’t know why. Archie sighed. Time to go home. He reckoned he’d given them enough time now. He stepped outside and nodded to one or
two of his acquaintances before turning towards home.

It was when he turned the corner that he caught his breath. He stopped and stared the length of the street at the figures of two young people – a man and a woman – walking slowly
towards him. The man was dark haired and wearing, of all things, a beret. The type, Archie knew, that Frenchmen wore. In one hand he carried a suitcase, but his other arm was protectively around
the young woman, almost as if he was helping her to walk. And indeed, she did appear to be limping a little.

And there was something familiar about her, something . . . Archie’s heart began to thump and he put out a shaking hand to the nearest wall to steady himself.

Could it be? No, it wasn’t possible, was it?

He pushed himself away from the wall and began to walk towards them on legs that were trembling. Still, he wasn’t sure. But then, as they drew nearer, the young woman looked up. Her hair
was short, incredibly short, for she’d always been so proud of her long, curly brown hair. And she was thinner – much thinner – and she was definitely limping. And then, as she
noticed him, she pulled away from the man’s arm and began to hurry towards Archie. And now he knew for certain.

‘Beth,’ he whispered, the tears in his eyes almost blinding the sight of her. He brushed them aside impatiently. ‘Oh my Beth!’ He stretched his arms out towards her.
‘You’ve come home.’

Jenny’s War
Margaret Dickinson

Love, hope and courage in a time of war . . .

Is it possible for a ten-year-old girl to fall in love? Jenny Mercer thinks so. Evacuated to Lincolnshire from the East End of London at the outbreak of war, she is frightened
of the wide open spaces and the huge skies. But the kindly Thornton family soon makes her feel welcome. And no one more so than Georgie, the handsome RAF fighter pilot who is caught up in the
battle for Britain’s survival. When Georgie is posted missing, presumed dead, Jenny is devastated.

BOOK: Welcome Home
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