Kitty breathed a sigh of relief as they all filed out of the church. She’d done it. She’d got through the ceremony without fluffing her words or making a fool of herself. She’d done her best to ignore the presence of Frank Feeny, who had stood on the other side of Danny throughout, almost close enough to touch. They hadn’t had a moment to speak to each other, as she and Danny had arrived only just in time, thanks to the row with Tommy. Now Frank had gone ahead to walk back with Sylvia.
The sight of that young woman had somewhat thrown Kitty, even more than standing near to Frank – at least she’d been prepared for that. She hadn’t been prepared for Sylvia, or at least not how she looked. Surely she wasn’t the only person who had noticed it. Sylvia had dark curly hair, very similar to Kitty’s own. They were about the same height. They were both Wrens – Sylvia was in uniform, and so Kitty could tell she didn’t have the same seniority. Was all this a coincidence?
‘Come on, Kitty, keep up!’ Sarah teased her. ‘Are you standing around admiring the scenery, or what?’
‘Sorry, I was miles away,’ said Kitty, realising that the girl she’d often dismissed as Rita’s kid sister was now a very attractive young woman in her own right. She gazed around. She hadn’t taken in until now just how much damage there had been to the houses around the church. She almost wouldn’t have recognised some of the streets, they were so changed from how they’d been when she was growing up here.
‘A bit different to how it used to be, isn’t it,’ said Sarah, guessing what Kitty was thinking. ‘You’ll find that a lot. We really caught it bad round here. Well, you’d know that better than anyone of course.’
‘Yes, it’s strange,’ Kitty said ruefully, her mind transported back to the raid that had killed Elliott. ‘I’ve seen the damage before, of course, on my visits back, but it’s easy to forget it when you leave again – somehow I always imagine the streets and buildings back to how they were before the war.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re right, we should catch up with the others.’
‘Yes, we don’t want to miss Ellen’s party,’ said Sarah. ‘There’s a lot to celebrate. Her christening, Jack and Eddy getting leave, you moving home. That’s a lot of excuses rolled into one, so come on.’
‘You must be Kitty,’ said Sylvia, coming across to Dolly’s kitchen window where Kitty was standing, a plate with a ham sandwich on it in her hand. ‘I’m Sylvia Hemsley.’
Kitty put down her plate so that she could shake the Wren’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she said, hoping she sounded sincere.
‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ Sylvia went on in her strong Cumberland accent. ‘You’ve just come home, haven’t you? Frank said you might be working alongside us.’
‘Did he?’ Kitty wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or not. Usually she didn’t like anyone discussing her work, out of habit, as you never knew who was listening in to your conversation. But what could be more natural than Frank talking about her return with his girlfriend? They would all know what she did – especially as Frank and Danny worked in the same place, although in different jobs. ‘Well, I don’t know if I’ll be in the same building or not. Probably not, actually. I’ll find out next week. But I expect we’ll bump into one another.’
‘It’s a lovely party, isn’t it,’ Sylvia went on, seeming not to notice Kitty’s hesitation. ‘I was so pleased to be asked. There’s so many people here and that’s a lot of mouths to feed.’
‘Oh, everyone pitched in with coupons and whatever they could spare,’ said Kitty. That was always the case round here. It was the best way of making sure there was enough to go round. On top of that Tommy, Michael and Megan had brought fresh produce from the farm, so that Dolly had been able to use butter and real eggs, usually luxuries beyond reach. Kitty had of course been persuaded to make one of her famous cakes, which she’d baked the afternoon of her first full day back, even though there had only been enough rationed ingredients for one tier – the other tiers were false, merely cardboard imitations. Still, it took pride of place on the dining table, with its pressed white tablecloth only brought out for special occasions.
‘I’m sure they did,’ Sylvia said appreciatively. ‘You won’t find food like this in our mess, I can tell you that.’
‘I know, I’m used to mess food, seeing as I’ve been transferred several times,’ said Kitty, realising that it might sound like a put-down, as though she was stressing her own higher rank, but unable to stop the words from coming out of her mouth.
‘Oh, of course, Frank said,’ Sylvia replied, with no sign of having taken offence.
Kitty couldn’t help but feel at a disadvantage. Clearly Sylvia knew far more about her than she did about the young Wren. She reminded herself that it was inevitable, and she shouldn’t let it upset her. She would have to get used to this. To buy herself some time, she took a bite from her sandwich, savouring the home-made chutney in it. That must have been a product of the victory garden.
She looked up to see Frank had come across to join them. He hadn’t changed much in the years she’d been away, though there was something in his demeanour that had changed. He had always been confident but now there was something else there too; a poise and maturity that only served to make him even more handsome than before. As her eyes met his, she felt that familiar fluttering in her stomach – but was that a slight hesitation that she saw reflected in his? A small wavering in his easy manner? She forced herself to finish her sandwich, although her mouth felt unaccountably dry.
‘Sylvia, you haven’t met my friend Jack. Let me introduce you,’ he said, passing his arm through his girlfriend’s. ‘Hello, Kitty, good to see you back home at last.’ His eyes gave nothing away now – they held her gaze steadily. Kitty felt annoyed at herself for being so easily beguiled – Frank Feeny’s blue eyes were of no concern to her now, she told herself.
Before she could reply, he had drawn Sylvia away and Kitty was left unsure as to what she should make of the brief encounter. It didn’t look as if she was going to speak to him properly, and maybe that was just as well. It would give her time to absorb the reality of Sylvia, now she’d met her in the flesh, rather than just imagining her. Then she’d be able to move on, to become comfortable with the idea and not let it get in the way of her work. That was the most important thing. That was what she’d been brought back to do, not to dwell on her old friend and neighbour who just happened to have roused emotions in her that she’d never felt before. But that was a long time ago, she told herself firmly. She had to put that behind her if she wanted to succeed in this new position.
Rita came over, looking as happy as Kitty had ever seen her, her beautiful red hair shining and her blue-green eyes reflecting her deep contentment on this special day. Megan came trotting after her. ‘Kitty, you were wonderful, you spoke so clearly,’ Rita said, giving her friend a hug. ‘Didn’t she, Megan? You remember your Auntie Kitty?’
The little girl looked up at them both. She shrugged. ‘Not really.’
‘Megan!’ Rita gasped, but Kitty smiled and shook her head.
‘It’s no wonder. We haven’t seen much of each other for a long time, have we, Megan? Now I’m back home, I hope we’ll get to know each other properly.’
‘Yes please,’ said Megan politely, then she dashed off as she caught sight of her brother holding some of the cake which had just been cut.
‘Kitty, I am so sorry,’ Rita said, mortified.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Kitty reassured her. ‘She’s not seen me properly since, what, probably your wedding to Jack. She won’t remember – that was over two years ago. She spoke the truth. You should be proud of her.’
‘Oh, I am,’ said Rita warmly. ‘When I think of all she’s been through, seeing her father treat me so badly, being taken off by him and treated like an idiot – it’s a wonder she’s turned out like she has. To think people used to reckon she was slow.’
‘Well, no chance of anyone thinking that now. Just look at her.’ Kitty and Rita turned to watch as the little girl caught up with her brother and loudly demanded that he get her a slice of cake because she couldn’t reach the table. She wouldn’t let him go until he agreed. ‘She’s one to watch, that girl,’ Kitty told her friend, her pulse rate coming back to normal now that Frank and Sylvia were safely on the other side of the room.
‘Oh Eddy, I’m glad you made it back for this,’ breathed Violet, her eyes shining with pride at the sight of her husband in his best suit – to be truthful, his only suit. ‘Aren’t we lucky to have all these friends and family? I feel blessed, I really do, and it’s all because I met you. I’m so grateful they took me in.’
Eddy gave her a squeeze. ‘Of course they did; they love you.’ His expression grew solemn. ‘I tell you, Vi, it makes it easier for me to go, knowing you’re well looked after here. Mam and Pop will see you right, no matter what.’
‘Eddy, don’t say things like that.’ Violet’s eyes clouded with worry. ‘Not when we’re having such a good time. Anyway, you’re going to be all right now. You survived all those crossings with the U-boats coming after you. Things have calmed down now, you said so yourself. You can get over to America and Canada without having to dodge them any more.’
‘Just the weather to worry about,’ Eddy said with a wry grin.
‘And even that’s getting better now summer’s on the way,’ Violet answered stoutly. ‘It’ll be as good as a cruise the next time you make that crossing, you mark my words.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ Eddy smiled, raising his glass, into which he’d poured a generous tot of rum. ‘Ah, that’s better.’
‘Here, let me have a sip.’ Violet reached for the glass and gingerly brought it to her mouth and tasted the dark amber liquid. ‘Ugh, that’s horrible, that is. How can you enjoy that stuff?’
Frank made his way over and laughed. ‘Our Eddy’s always had a taste for a drop of grog, haven’t you, Ed? That’s why he went to sea in the first place.’ He’d left Sylvia cooing over little Ellen, who was resplendent in her embroidered christening robe, which had been worn by her mother and aunties before her. ‘Didn’t he tell you that, Violet?’
‘No he did not.’ Violet pretended to be cross but her heart wasn’t in it. She slipped her arm around her husband’s waist. ‘I was just saying to him, how much safer he’ll be now doing that Atlantic crossing. He’ll be home with me for good in no time at all.’
‘That day can’t come soon enough,’ Eddy said, his arm around her shoulders. ‘You’ll keep her safe for me meanwhile, won’t you, Frank?’
‘It’ll be my pleasure,’ said Frank, raising his own glass of rum and chinking it against his brother’s. He kept his face cheerful, allowing no trace of what he really thought to show in his expression. He knew, as several others in the room most likely suspected, that there was going to be a big push soon into northern France. He couldn’t say anything about it, and he couldn’t tell from Eddy’s face whether he also knew or not. Violet might presume her husband would be almost out of danger now, having come through the treacherous years when so many merchant seamen were lost in the Battle of the Atlantic. That would be true, if he stayed on that route. But it stood to reason that if the Allies were going into northern France, somehow they would need provisions, armaments, every kind of supplies, and the best way of providing those would be via the Merchant Navy. It wasn’t up to Frank to burst Violet’s bubble of happiness, and he had no way of knowing where his brother would be sent next, but in his heart of hearts he couldn’t rejoice in the assumption that Eddy was out of danger.
There was nothing he could do about it either way, so he kept smiling, kept sipping the very welcome rum that both Eddy and Jack had managed to bring home, and carefully kept his thoughts away from Kitty’s reappearance in his life. He’d been stunned by her appearance at the church, where she had looked more glamorous than he’d ever seen her. He was glad that Danny had stood between them – he didn’t know how he’d have managed to actually be next to this new, elegant version of Kitty, her beautifully tailored red jacket emphasising her slim waist and trim curves. He had almost stumbled, something he hadn’t done for a very long while.
Then he’d suffered a very strange mix of emotions at the sight of Sylvia and Kitty together, talking in the kitchen earlier. He wasn’t a fool – of course he had known they bore some physical resemblance to each other, but seeing them facing one another brought out their similarities very clearly – and also their differences. Kitty now had an air of sophistication that was totally new. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; she’d been away for years, sent to a variety of postings, becoming expert in her profession and learning social graces she could scarcely have come across in Empire Street. Then of course she’d had that doctor boyfriend, who must have brought her into contact with an entirely new set of people. He himself was now an officer, and he was well used to working and dealing with those who blithely assumed they belonged to the officer class by birth – and yet he had the feeling Kitty was now somehow far above him.
He gave a small shake of his head. He had to put all these feelings to one side. He could see how his family welcomed Sylvia into their midst, and he was grateful she was so friendly and open with them. He should count his blessings, be pleased with what he had rather than wonder about what he didn’t. After all, the likelihood was that he might well bump into Kitty in a professional capacity now, and he couldn’t allow her presence, or even the thought of her presence, to distract him from his vital work. Lives depended on it.
‘Penny for ’em, Frank!’ Jack came across, in his Fleet Air Arm uniform, and slapped him on the back, almost making him spill the last of his rum. ‘How about a top-up?’ He brandished a nearly full bottle. Frank looked up, and caught sight of Kitty leaning against the opposite wall. She was looking at him too and their eyes briefly met, Kitty turning away quickly with a tight smile. It was only wishful thinking that made him wonder if it was a blush he’d seen creep across her cheeks … Damn it! Frank cursed himself as he watched her turn away and speak to someone else. He’d have to shake off these stupid thoughts.
‘Go on then.’ Frank held out his glass and was pleased to see his hand was totally steady – unlike the beating of his heart.
‘There, isn’t she lovely?’ It was Sarah’s turn to hold little Ellen and she was every inch the proud godmother. ‘She’s been so good. Look, this is your godfather. Better make a point of behaving when he’s around and you’ll never be short of pocket money, though we won’t tell your mammy.’ She held the baby close to Danny’s face, and he smiled but pulled away a fraction.
‘Don’t you go making her cry, now,’ he warned. ‘Just because she hasn’t started wailing the place down so far, doesn’t mean she isn’t going to any minute. I’m not having Rita blaming me for that.’
‘What nonsense you talk, Danny Callaghan,’ Sarah scolded him, and Danny reflected that between her and Kitty, he couldn’t do a thing right today.
‘See, here’s your Auntie Nancy come to say hello,’ he said to the sleeping child, and made a hasty escape over to where Eddy and Frank were making inroads into the rum bottle.
Nancy smiled sweetly, even though she was still a bit put out at having been passed over as a godmother in favour of her younger sister. But there was no point in taking it out on the child – it was hardly her fault. ‘She’s cute as a button and no mistake,’ she said. ‘Look at her little fingernails. There, when you’re grown up I’ll teach you how to paint them. That’s if you don’t turn out like your mammy and godmother, working too hard in jobs that don’t let you dress up.’
‘Nancy!’ Sarah objected, stung.
‘Oh, no offence,’ said Nancy lightly. ‘Lovely food, Sarah – did you help out with it?’
‘Of course,’ said Sarah. ‘You were too busy, I suppose.’
‘Well, Georgie won’t mind himself,’ said Nancy, leaving her younger sister to infer that she had been busy with childcare last night, when in fact Georgie had been round at the Parkers’ house again. Nancy had had her first proper date with Gary Trenton, and all she really wanted to do today was find a quiet corner and think about it. She shivered at the memory of him, his wonderful strong, lean hands holding hers across the table as they’d sat in a quiet pub miles from Bootle, where nobody would recognise her. He’d been such a gentleman, not trying anything on, but asking her all manner of questions about what she thought and what she was interested in.
She couldn’t remember when anyone had thought to ask her things like that. She could feel her sense of self-worth growing. With him she wasn’t the troublesome middle child whose siblings were all contributing to the war effort in far more demanding ways than helping out in a canteen; she wasn’t the bad mother that old Mrs Kerrigan painted her as; she wasn’t Gloria Arden’s less pretty sidekick. Gary made her feel as if she was a fascinating and attractive young woman, and she loved it.
She gave a little sigh as she recalled the polite but firm way he had said goodnight, looking at her as if he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her, but knowing he mustn’t go too far too soon. He cared for her feelings like that and she respected him for it. Next time maybe he would—
‘Something wrong, Nancy?’ asked Sarah.
Damn, thought Nancy, Sarah noticed everything and never cut her any slack. ‘No, no,’ she said, wafting her hand in front of her face, ‘just a bit hot in here. Stuffy with so many people, you know.’
‘Perhaps you should go out in the yard for some fresh air then,’ said Sarah, clearly not believing her excuse.
‘Perhaps I will an’ all,’ said Nancy, and she broke away from her sister and little niece. It was the perfect excuse. Now she could take a breath and have some blissful, uninterrupted moments to consider just what Gary might suggest the next time they met, and what she might agree to. There really wasn’t a much better way of spending a sunny afternoon. She leant against the back wall and gave herself over to the delicious memories of last night, and even more delicious ideas about what might happen next. If only she was careful this time, and didn’t let the likes of Sarah suspect what she was up to, she had the feeling that this relationship could go very well indeed. Gary wasn’t like the young American men she usually met, or local lads like Stan Hathaway, who’d led her on only to let her down. No, he was mature, a man of the world, who was tough but gentle, and who appreciated her like nobody else did.
Back inside she could hear the piano start up, which must mean that they’d persuaded Eddy to give them a tune. He was the best of them; he got his musical abilities from Pop. There was the sound of Kitty singing – they’d all like that. Good, that meant everyone would be watching them and she wouldn’t be missed out here. Because while she knew Eddy could tinkle the ivories with the best of them and Kitty had a lovely voice, it was so much more fun thinking about the strong, protective arms of Staff Sergeant Gary Trenton.