Read Online Always in My Heart by Ellie Dean - Free Book Online Page B

Peggy placed the precious bar of lavender soap in the dish at the end of the bath and rummaged in the cabinet for her shampoo.
    Eyeing the almost empty bottle with a rueful smile, she realised one or all of the girls had been using it. That was the problem with so many females in the house – shampoo, lipstick, stockings, and even face powder were fair game when left lying about. But she didn’t mind. The girls worked hard and times were tough, and it wasn’t as if she’d not been guilty herself of borrowing the odd dash of lipstick and bit of talc now and again.
    Peggy eyed the regulatory two inches of water in the bottom of the bath and decided that having missed out on three proper baths she was due an extra few inches. Minutes later she tested the water, added some cold and then hurriedly slipped out of her nightwear.
    The icy cold of the bathroom goosed her flesh and she quickly slid beneath the lovely hot water until it lapped about her ears. Closing her eyes, she lay there, revelling in the luxury. Every extra hour of work and every penny saved for this bathroom had been worth it, she decided.
    After some moments she realised she was in danger of falling asleep, so she reluctantly roused herself and reached for the soap. Once she was sweet-smelling again, she clambered out of the rapidly cooling water, wrapped herself in a large bath towel and used the tin jug that always stood by the bath to wash her hair.
    Still feeling slightly light-headed from her exertions, she dragged on her underwear and red flannel vest and quickly pulled on the old tweed skirt and warm sweater. She was sitting on the chair rubbing her hairdry when she heard the low moan of the first call of the air-raid siren.
    Leaping to her feet, and regretting it instantly, she dropped the towel on the floor, steadied herself for a moment then unbolted the door. She stumbled to Mrs Finch’s room, which was right next door, and went in without knocking.
    Mrs Finch was snoring happily as she lay fully dressed beneath the eiderdown, her discarded hearing aid dangling from the bedside table.
    Peggy gently shook her awake.
    ‘Whasamatter?’ she mumbled as she emerged from her deep sleep.
    ‘Air raid,’ mouthed Peggy as she handed her the hearing aid, grabbed her gas-mask box and helped her off the bed.
    The dear old thing was a bit unsteady on her feet, but then Peggy wasn’t much better, and they both swayed a bit as Peggy handed her the walking stick and tucked her hand into the crook of her arm. The sirens were louder now, reaching their highest pitch, and Peggy was frantic to get Cordelia downstairs so she could reach Daisy, who was now crying.
    ‘You go,’ ordered Mrs Finch. ‘I can manage perfectly well.’
    Peggy was torn between the needs of her frightened baby and those of this frail old lady she’d come to love.
    Mrs Finch pushed past her and started down the stairs. Clutching the bannisters, she swayed on each step with heart-stopping regularity, and Peggy rushedto help her down to the hall. ‘Get the air-raid box from the kitchen,’ she shouted over the screams of the baby and the wailing sirens, ‘but don’t go down the cellar steps. I’ll be with you in a minute.’
    ‘I know what to do, dear. See to Daisy.’
    Peggy tore into the bedroom and plucked the thoroughly agitated Daisy from her cot. Wrapping her firmly in several small blankets, Peggy kicked off her slippers and dug her feet into her everyday shoes, grabbed her gas-mask box and fresh nappies and rushed into the kitchen.
    Mrs Finch had donned her overcoat and was sitting halfway down the concrete steps that led to the basement, the air-raid box of essentials clasped to her chest, her walking stick and gas-mask box lying on the scullery floor next to a packet of biscuits. ‘Oh dear,’ she quavered. ‘I’m quite all right – but I think I’ve broken the biscuits.’
    Peggy held the fractious baby in one arm, and helped Mrs Finch to her feet. ‘You’re more