Read Online Far From Home by Ellie Dean - Free Book Online Page A

spoil our happy news.’
    ‘Quite right too,’ agreed Mrs Finch. ‘They don’t deserve any consideration from you after the way they carried on.’ She looked up from the tangle of wool she was trying to unravel and smiled. ‘Well done, Anne.’
    Peggy made a fresh pot of tea to celebrate and, as she waited for the kettle to boil, she thought of Martin’s snooty family – his mother in particular. What a fool the woman was, she thought, to shun her son’s wife, and thereby risk losing all the pleasure and excitement of her first grandchild – and all because she regarded Anne as unworthy of her son and the family name.
    She filled the pot and forcibly rammed the knitted cosy over it and placed it rather too firmly on the table. If that woman ever showed her nasty, self-righteous face here, she’d let her have a few home truths, and no mistake.
    She was about to question Anne more closely over what the doctor had said when the siren began to wail.
    Like a well-oiled machine the occupants of Beach View Boarding House swung into action and, armed with pillows, blankets and the box of necessities Peggy kept well stocked, they helped Mrs Finch down the stone steps to the basement and out into the garden.
    The searchlights were already piercing the night sky, the siren’s banshee wails echoing all along the seafront, reverberating off the chalk cliffs and through the dark streets as the ARP warden shouted orders to turn off lights and get in the shelters. Despite the precautions, no one could black out the moon which gilded the rooftops and cast deep shadows. The conditions were perfect for an enemy raid.
    Peggy settled Mrs Finch in her deckchair in the corner and placed the full teapot on the unlit primus stove. Having checked the level of kerosene in the hurricane lamp, she lit the wick with a match from the box of Swan Vestas she always kept to hand, and then made sure everyone was comfortable.
    June, Fran and Suzy were in their nightclothes and slippers, but Danuta was still dressed in her drab skirt and cardigan. The contrast between the girls was startling, even in this flickering light, Peggy realised sadly. The three young nurses were rosy with health, their skins glowing, eyes bright, figures trim and radiating boundless energy. June and Fran were natural blondes, and Suzy had a head of flaming hair that no amount of pins could tame, whereas poor little Danuta looked washed out and dowdy, and several years older than she really was.
    ‘This is my eldest daughter, Anne,’ she said by way of introduction. ‘She’s about to make me a grandmother,’ she added proudly.
    ‘Not right this minute, I’m hoping,’ said Suzy, her soft southern Irish voice rising through the cacophony outside. ‘It’s been a while since I did midwifery.’
    Anne laughed. ‘There’s a few months to go yet,’ she assured her, ‘and I’m determined to have this baby in a nice safe hospital bed, not this dark, cold dungeon with enemy planes screaming overhead.’
    ‘To be sure that’s what every mother wants,’ said Suzy, with a twinkle in her eye, ‘but babies have a way of coming at the wrong time and in the wrong place.’ She grinned impishly. ‘And I should know, sure me mam’s had eight, and not one of us was born in a bed. I came in the middle of the matinee at the Majestic cinema – caused a proper old fuss, I can tell you.’
    ‘That doesn’t surprise me one bit,’ laughed Peggy, ‘but I think we need to change the subject. Anne doesn’t want to hear all the horror stories, and this tea is getting cold.’
    Danuta sat in silence, the warm cup cradled in her cold fingers, her gaze drifting repeatedly over the other girls as they chattered and laughed and settled down for the duration of the raid. They looked so fresh and innocent; untouched by the horrors she’d had to witness, still eager for life even in these dangerous times. She had little in common with them, their youthful vitality and cheery outlook