The Heart of the Family
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‘No more dancing,’ Lou had said fiercely, when finally everyone had stopped fussing and they were on their own together in the safety of their shared bedroom.
‘And no more … boys,’ Sasha had said firmly.
‘So what are we going to do now?’ Lou asked her twin now, straightening her blouse collar in front of the mirror.
‘We’ll have to find war work of some kind,’ Sasha told her as they left Lewis’s premises for the last time.
For a moment Lou’s eyes lit up with their old enthusiasm, but then she shook her head.
‘We’ve just said that we can’t join up or anything, and Mum’s made us promise that we won’t go into munitions.’
‘Mmm, I know.’
They looked at one another again. It was hard not to feel dispirited, especially when everyone else seemed to be busy doing something.
‘Come on,’ Lou announced, linking her arm through her twin’s. ‘Let’s go home. Do you think there’ll be another air raid tonight?’
‘I expect so,’ Sasha answered. ‘Although it doesn’t look like there’s much left to bomb really. No, not that way,’ she told Lou sharply as her twin made to cross the road in the direction of the Royal Court Theatre.
Sasha’s colour was high, and of course Lou knew why. She was afraid that the cause of their quarrel might come walking out of the theatre, and she was afraid because despite what she had told her, really Sasha was keen on Kieran Mallory, the good-looking young man who had been making up to them both behind each other’s back, and whose uncle worked at the Royal Court Theatre.
A feeling of intense pain gripped Lou. She and Sasha had made up their quarrel and outwardly they were, if anything, even closer than they had been before. They had both sworn that they were never ever going to let anything or anyone come between them again, but despite all the effort they were both putting into pretending that nothing had changed they both knew that something had.
The doctor had finished examining Charlie and now he looked down at him, announcing, ‘Well, Private Firth, everything seems to be in order, so I think we can safely discharge you. Go and see the almoner first thing tomorrow morning and she’ll sort you out with everything you’ll need and let your commanding officer know that you’ve been discharged as fit to return to duty.’
He wouldn’t really mind going back, Charlie admitted. He’d missed his jaunts into London and the fun to be had there.
Charlie had quickly discovered that there was nothing quite like the threat of war to weaken a certain kind of girl’s willpower along with her knicker elastic. It was a pity his mother had made such a fuss about his suggestion that he and Daphne should delay getting married. Mind you, marriage didn’t have to stop him having a bit of fun. There was a war on, after all, and having a bit of fun didn’t mean anything; it was just a bit of fun, with no harm done.
Pity there was no chance of him persuading Daphne to come up to Wallasey to live. She’d be safely out of the way up here, but once she knew he wasn’t going to get his discharge she’d insist on staying with her parents. Daphne and her mother were very close. Luckily the Dorset village where they lived was a good two hours’ drive away from camp, so he’d have an excuse for not going down if he felt like doing something else instead – like going to London.
Charlie had no illusions about what he could expect from his marriage. Daphne was a ‘good’ girl. He would have known that even if both she and her parents had not told him so.
But it wasn’t because he wanted to take her to bed that Charlie had planned to marry her. What man in his right mind wanted a wife who knew how to lure a man on and excite him? Not him. That kind of wife could cause a man a lot of trouble. No, Charlie had decided to marry Daphne because of who she was, not what she was. Daphne’s parents had money and status in the small village where they lived and they thought he was wonderful because they believed he had tried to save their son’s life. Initially Charlie had basked in their gratitude but gradually, like Daphne’s adoration, it had become something he had taken for granted.
Daphne had said several times recently that she wished they did not have to live so far away from her parents. Whilst his mother was openly delighted at the prospect of having her daughter-in-law living so close, Charlie suspected that Daphne did not share her enthusiasm. Now she would be able to continue to live with her parents, which would please her, just as much as it would suit him. Talk about having your cake and eating it, Charlie thought happily.
Charlie liked fun and excitement, he liked fast cars and pretty girls, he liked the clubs in London that welcomed young men like him, and understood what a chap wanted and supplied it very discreetly, whether it was a drink or a girl.
Now, he told himself confidently, even though he couldn’t get out of the army his father was bound to make him a decent allowance. After all, he was going to be a married man and his father couldn’t expect a girl like Daphne, whose father was a Name at Lloyd’s, to live on a private’s wages.
Yes, the more Charlie thought about his future the more pleased with himself he felt.
FIVE
Katie could feel the tension in the Campions’ kitchen as soon as she walked in. She was later getting in from work than normal because they had all had to work over to deal with the extra workload caused by the bombs disrupting the delivery service and the girls who had not come into work.
The first thing she’d done was to go upstairs to wash her hands and face, and change out of her office clothes and into an old summer dress, which she could tuck into her siren suit without spoiling it when the air-raid siren went off. Now, coming back down, she glanced round the table and could see how on edge and anxious Jean looked. That alone was enough to cause Katie’s own tummy to tense up. Jean was the mainstay of her family, a loving wife and mother, with a practical calm streak that always ensured that her home and especially her kitchen was an oasis of reassurance and loving warmth. Tonight, though, Jean was quite obviously not herself.
Katie’s first fear, that there must have been bad news, subsided when she looked at Sam, who was calmly eating his tea. Sam was a good father, who would never have been sitting eating a luncheon meat salad if anything had happened to one of them.
Normally the conversation round the tea table in the Campion household flowed easily, punctuated by the twins’ laughter, but tonight only the wireless was producing conversation.
A quick look at Jean’s plate confirmed what Katie had already suspected: that she had no appetite for her tea. What was wrong? Jean was normally scrupulous about not wasting food. She might have a husband who worked hard on his allotment to keep them all in fresh home-grown food, but she still had to queue along with everyone else for all those things that were now rationed: meat and eggs, cheese and margarine, to name just a few.
As soon as they had all finished eating, Sam stood up.
‘You two can do the washing-up tonight,’ he told the twins firmly. ‘Me and your mum are going for a bit of a walk down to the allotment.’
Nothing was said, but Katie could tell from the way the twins looked at one another that they were also aware that something was happening, and that it was upsetting Jean.
‘You shouldn’t have said what you did to the twins, Sam,’ Jean told her husband in a troubled voice as he opened the gate at the back of the garden for her. A narrow lane ran along behind the houses, separating their back gardens from the allotments, which ran down to the railway embankment. Sam had been cultivating his allotment ever since they had moved into Ash Grove, and had even been able to take over a spare patch of land, which he shared with several other allotment holders and on which they had planted fruit trees. Because nothing could be cultivated beneath their branches they had let the grass grow and put hen runs there, and in summer this area was a favourite place for families to gather and have picnics. Now the grass was just starting to be shaded with the bluebells that grew wild in the grass, and that would soon form a rich blue carpet.
Jean blinked away painful tears. Funny how it was the little things that it hurt to think about when you realised you wouldn’t be able to see them.
‘They’ll be wondering what’s going on, and I don’t want them worrying, not after what’s happened.’
‘Aye, well, it’s because I’m worrying myself that I want to talk to you,’ Sam told her heavily, guiding her through the gate into his own allotment, and to the rustic seat in its sunny spot close to the tool shed, where he grew a few flowers because Jean loved them so much.
Now she looked down at the Russell lupins, already fat with cream and brown buds thanks to the shelter of their spot. A rose smothered the shed itself but it was too soon for it to flower yet. It seemed incredible that something as fragile as these plants could survive when buildings so close at hand were being destroyed.
Her emotions brought a hard lump to Jean’s throat. The evening sunshine slanted across Sam’s hands, strong and lean, tanned from his work both on the allotment and with the Salvage Corps.
It wasn’t usual for them to touch one another in public, but now something made Jean reach out to put her own hand on top of Sam’s as she told him quietly, ‘You’ve always had such good strong hands, Sam. They were one of the first things I noticed about you when you first asked me out. That’s partly why I married you, on account of them hands. With hands like that I knew you’d always keep me and our children safe.’
Sam’s expression was sombre as he moved his body to shield her from the bright glare of the dying sun.
‘I can’t do that any more, Jean. I wish I could, but I can’t. Not with what’s going on and this war.’
His voice sounded as heavy as her heart felt, Jean realised.
‘That’s what I want to talk to you about.’
Jean’s body shook. She could guess what was coming – had already guessed.
‘The thing is about my job that you see things others don’t always get to see, and the fact is, Jean, Liverpool can’t hold out much longer. I’ve heard it said by them as should know that another couple of nights like these we’ve been having, three at the most, and there’ll be nothing left to save.’
‘But what about the Government? They must be able to do something. Liverpool has to be saved; there’s the docks and the convoys coming in.’ Jean protested.
Sam shook his head. ‘There’s nowt to be done, lass. I wish there were. The convoys will have to be diverted, or risk being bombed in the water by the Luftwaffe. The city’s a goner, as near as dammit. When the war was first announced I wanted you and the twins to go somewhere where you’d be safe, but you wouldn’t hear of it, and to be honest the last thing I wanted was for us to be separated, but it’s different now. You’ve seen what’s happening and seen the figures in the papers. Jerry isn’t going to stop once he’s destroyed the docks; he’ll be moving inland and dropping more bombs as he does.’ Sam nodded in the direction of the railway embankment. ‘We’ve got the main goods line to Edge Hill right there in front of us. Jerry’s already had one go at destroying it, and he’ll be back to try again. Another couple of nights of bombing and those of us that are still left alive will be lucky if we don’t starve.’
‘That’s silly talk, Sam, with all that you’re growing on your allotment,’ Jean protested.
‘Veggies are all very well but how do you think meat and fish and that are going to get into the city with the roads and the railway lines unusable? There’ll be riots and all sorts.’
Jean wanted to argue that he was wrong but she couldn’t. Only this morning whilst she had been in the local butcher’s where the family was registered with their coupons, the butcher had told her how he’d heard that the bombing had destroyed so many shops and warehouses that those that were left were beginning to run out of supplies. Because the city was a port, receiving goods in and then distributing them to the rest of the country, it hadn’t occurred to Jean before now that they could run out. Feeding her family was the main priority of every housewife in these rationed times, and the thought of her own family going hungry and maybe even starving filled her with fear.
Sam had pulled away from her now and was standing looking towards the embankment, as though he didn’t want to have to face her.
Jean’s heart thudded with misery. She had known that this was coming. Everyone you talked to was saying how much they wanted those they loved to be safe.
‘I want you and the twins to leave Liverpool, Jean. I know the last time we talked about this you persuaded me to change my mind, but I won’t change it this time. I need to know that at least some of my family will be safe. I can’t do owt about Luke. He’s a man now and in the army, and you don’t need me to tell you that I’m as proud of him as it’s possible for any man to be of his son. And as for our Grace …’
He was looking at her now and Jean could see the sheen of his emotions in his eyes.
He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t seem that long ago that she was following me round the allotment, chattering away to me, sneaking the raspberries when she thought I wasn’t looking. And now look at her. She’ll soon be a fully qualified nurse. My heart’s in me mouth every night worrying about Luke and Grace, but they’ve got their duty to do, I know that, just as I’ve got mine.’
‘Sam, please, don’t make me and the twins go away,’ Jean begged him. ‘We’re safe enough up here, everyone says so. You say you’re worrying about us but how do you think it’s going to be for me, sitting somewhere safe, not knowing what’s going on here with you and Luke and Grace? We can perhaps send the twins somewhere safer, but I want to stay. I’ve got to stay – there’s Katie to think of, and you. Who’s going to make sure there’s a decent meal on the table for you, and what’s our Luke going to think if poor Katie has to find somewhere else? A fine thing that would be.’
‘Katie was saying only the other night that she’s owed some leave and that she’d like to go and see her parents. And as for me, I can look after meself if I have to. It won’t be for long.’
He was lying, thought Jean in despair. It could be for ever if what he was saying was true. It could mean that if she did what he wanted, when she said goodbye to him tomorrow that she might never ever see him again, and he knew that as well as she did. But she also knew what that set determined expression meant. Sam was a good man, a kind, loving man, but he could also be a stubborn, prideful man who was sometimes a bit too set in his ways, traits that Luke had inherited from him.
There was no point in arguing with him. That would only drive him into sticking to his guns, and besides, he did have a point, at least where the twins were concerned.
Jean moved closer to him, pretending not to notice when he moved back, indicating that he wasn’t going to let any physical closeness between them change his mind. She put her hand on his arm. There were new lines fanning out from his eyes; he looked tired and determined not to show it, wearied by the nightly bombardment of the city on top of the rigours already imposed on everyone by a war that was ageing them all, including the young. It showed in the stoop of people’s shoulders, and in the anxious frowns that everyone seemed to wear when they thought no one else was looking. Jean had seen it in those poor people who came to the rest centre, and who tried to pull themselves up to their full height and wear a smile when they thought they were being observed. She had seen it too in her own dressing table mirror, but this was the first time she had seen it so plainly in Sam.
‘I agree that the twins should go somewhere safer,’ she told him quietly. ‘But I want to stay, Sam. Luke and Grace are here, after all, as well as you, and I couldn’t bear it if anything was to happen and I couldn’t—’ She had to bite down on her words as the awful thought she didn’t want to voice bubbled inside her head.
‘Don’t you think I feel the same?’ Sam demanded.
‘I’ll be safe enough, Sam. It only takes a minute to get to the shelter.’
‘A minute could be a minute too long and besides, there’s been more than one shelter got hit and them inside never got out. You know that. No, Jean, I mean it: you and the children can’t stay in Liverpool.’
‘Well, we can’t just leave. Where will we go?’
‘I was thinking of your Vi in Wallasey.’
Jean sucked in her breath. ‘You’re never expecting me to go cap in hand to our Vi and ask her to take me and the twins in, Sam Campion?’
‘I’d rather you were somewhere more out in the country, but Wallasey’s a damn sight safer than Liverpool, and your Vi’s honour-bound to take you in, seeing as you’re family.’
His whole manner said that his mind was made up and that he wasn’t going to change it. Sam hated seeing her cry, but Jean just couldn’t stop herself.
‘I never thought I’d see the day when you expected me to go begging to my sister,’ she reproached him. ‘Not after everything you’ve said about her.’
‘Can’t you see that it’s you and the twins I’m thinking of, Jean?’ Sam defended himself. ‘How do you think I would feel if anything were to happen to any of you? How would you feel if something happened to the twins? It was bad enough that to-do on Saturday.’
Jean shuddered. On Saturday night when the twins had gone missing she had been so afraid for them. Sam was right, she would never forgive herself if they ended up being hurt or worse because she had refused to leave Liverpool.
‘If I had my way our Grace would be going with you, an’ all,’ Sam told her, breaking into her thoughts.
‘She can’t do that, Sam. It would mean her giving up her nursing and she wouldn’t do that, not now she’s in her final year.’
She reached into her apron pocket for her handkerchief and felt a surge of fresh tears when Sam pushed his own handkerchief into her hands. The first time he had done that they had been courting and she had started crying over a sad film. How she wished that it was only a sad film she had to cry over now.
‘Come on, love,’ he begged her gruffly. ‘At least I’ll be able to sleep a bit easier for knowing that you and the twins are safe.’
Jean sniffed and blew her nose. ‘And what about me, Sam Campion? How am I supposed to sleep easy from now on? What’s going to happen to us, Sam, if Hitler does bomb Liverpool to bits?’
‘I don’t know, love. All I know now is that I want you and the twins safe. Come on, we’d better get back.’
So that she could tell them what was going to happen, he meant, Jean knew.
She’d been dreading him saying something like this since Saturday night. She’d seen it in his eyes and she’d prayed that the bombing would stop so that they could stay together as a family just as they always had.
‘I suppose Dad’s telling Mum that he isn’t going to eat any more luncheon meat.’
Lou’s weak attempt at a joke barely raised the corners of Sasha’s mouth. Neither of them had stopped watching the back door, which they’d opened ostensibly to let in some fresh evening air but in reality to anticipate the return of their parents, and Katie shared their anxiety.
‘What do you suppose—’ Lou began, only to stop when Sasha gave her a nudge in the ribs with her elbow and warned her, ‘Hush, they’re just opening the gate.’
It was obvious to Katie the minute she saw Jean that she had been crying. Her own heart lurched into her ribs. Was it possible that she had been wrong and there had been bad news? About Luke? Or Grace? Guiltily Katie recognised how much she hoped if one of them had been hurt that it was not Luke.
Instinctively adopting Jean’s own normal manner Katie asked calmly, ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’ and received a grateful look from Sam.
‘Aye, lass, if you wouldn’t mind.’
He turned to the twins. ‘Your mother’s got something to tell you.’
Jean bowed her head, waiting for Sam to announce that he was going back to the allotment, but to her surprise he was obviously intending to stay. To support her or to make sure she did what he wanted?
Behind her Katie was waiting for the kettle to boil. Dear Katie, such a lovely girl and so perfect for Luke. Jean worried about her safety as much as if she were one of her own. Hitler was dropping bombs on London, of course, but Katie had already said that it was much safer where her parents were living. If she went to them she’d be safe, and it would only be for a little while. Until the bombing stopped. Until Liverpool had been destroyed.
Jean took a deep breath to try to steady herself. It wouldn’t do to let the girls see how upset she was.
‘Me and your dad have been thinking,’ she began, ‘and we’ve decided that until all this bombing stops you two and me would be better off finding somewhere safer to live outside the city.’
‘But what about Katie?’
That was Sasha, looking quickly past Jean to where Katie was standing pouring the now boiling water onto the tea leaves.
‘There’s no need for anyone to worry about me,’ Katie told them all firmly. ‘In fact I was already thinking of taking my leave and going home to see my parents.’
She caught another approving nod from Sam and a grateful look from Jean. ‘And I think that you and your mum going somewhere safer is exactly the right thing to do,’ she told the twins calmly. ‘In fact, Luke was only saying the same thing the last time I saw him,’ she added, crossing her fingers behind her back. She was sure that Luke would have said that if he had been asked, because he was very much his father’s son and Katie knew instinctively that it was Sam who was insisting on them going rather than Jean.
What a terrible decision that must have been for Jean. She had four children, after all, two of whom would have to remain in Liverpool and face the danger from which Sam obviously wanted to protect her and the twins. Katie could imagine how she would have felt in such circumstances.
‘But how can we leave Liverpool?’ Sasha asked uncertainly. ‘Where will we go?’
‘I know,’ said Lou, as irrepressible as ever. ‘We will have to be trekkers. You know, you go and queue up for the trucks in the evening and then they take you out into the country and you have to find a barn or something to sleep in.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Jean told her. She looked at Sam and then back at the twins. ‘We’ll be going to Wallasey, of course, to stay with your auntie Vi.’
‘What?’
‘No!’
The twins spoke together, their words different but their horrified expressions identical.
‘Mum, you can’t mean that,’ Lou protested. ‘Auntie Vi doesn’t like us and we don’t like her. Well, we’re not going, are we, Sasha?’
‘That’s enough of that,’ Sam told them sternly. ‘You’re going and that’s an end to the matter.’
Katie could tell that the twins knew he meant what he said. They subsided, still exchanging shocked looks.
‘When will we have to go?’ That was Sasha, her voice small and wobbling slightly.
‘Not until tomorrow,’ Jean told them quietly. ‘I’ll have to go over and see Vi tomorrow and … and arrange things with her first.’ She was looking at Sam now as though seeking help, but he wasn’t looking back at her.
Katie had heard all about the relationship between the two families and she knew that it would be hard for Jean to lower her pride and ask her snobbish sister for help.
Jean looked at Sam’s stiff back. The fact that he was prepared to let her go begging Vi for help said how afraid for them he really was. There had never been any love lost between Vi and Sam, and although she had never said so to Sam, in the early days of their courtship Vi had actually tried to persuade her to drop Sam. If she told him that now … But no, she must not do that. Sam was doing this for them, and he had been right when he’d said that she would never forgive herself if they stayed in Liverpool and something happened to the twins.