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Authors: Ellie Dean
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his orders today,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s leaving Cliffehaven Monday week.’
‘Oh.’
‘He can’t tell me where he’s going, of course, but he promises it isn’t too far away, and that he’ll be able to see me when he’s on leave or stood down.’ She flicked back her hair and fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, her gaze not quite meeting her mother’s. ‘He says his parents want to meet me, and that they’ve invited me to lunch next Sunday.’ Her brown eyes finally settled on her mother. ‘I can’t really refuse, can I? It would be terribly rude.’
Peggy had watched her closely and suspected she knew the reason behind her reluctance. ‘You don’t have to accept the invitation,’ she began. ‘If they still want to meet you in a few weeks’ time, you can go then.’ She touched her daughter’s hand. ‘Are you afraid that if you go, it will give out the wrong message?’
Anne nodded. ‘We’ve only known each other a couple of months, and meeting his parents is taking things a bit too quickly.’
‘Have you told him that?’
‘Mmm. But he said he didn’t want to wait any longer, and what with him already flying missions, he doesn’t want to risk …’ Her brown eyes were tear-filled as she looked at her mother. ‘I don’t know what to do, Mum,’ she murmured. ‘I do love him, really I do, and it would be simply awful if anything happened to him. But it’s all moving so fast, and I feel I’m being pressured.’
Peggy stood and gathered her into her arms. ‘Then tell him you’ll see his parents another time, and that you need to be certain about things before you rush into them. If he loves you, he’ll understand.’
There were questions Peggy wanted to ask, but was afraid to hear the answers, so she kept silent. She and Jim had met when he was on leave during the First World War. They had rushed into things and, before she’d known it, she was expecting Anne. Jim had done the right thing by marrying her, but those first years had been tough, and there had been many a time since then that she’d doubted whether he really loved her.
But then Jim had never been a man to turn down the favours of a pretty woman and, although it broke her heart, she’d had to live with that knowledge, and rein him in when things got overheated. They were happy enough, and she still adored him, but like his father, he was a man who walked his own path.
‘We haven’t … you know … Done anything,’ said Anne hesitantly, her face reddening.
‘Good,’ said Peggy firmly. ‘Just you make sure it stays that way until you get a wedding ring on your finger.’
Anne’s blush deepened. ‘But I do love him, Mum. So much. It’s really difficult …’
‘I think you and young Martin should do your courting here,’ said Peggy. ‘You can have the dining room after tea. I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed.’
Anne visibly relaxed, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. ‘Thanks, Mum.’ She kissed Peggy’s cheek. ‘I’ll tell Martin next time he telephones.’
‘You do that, love.’ She kissed Anne goodnight and began to clear away the mugs. But her hands stilled as she set the crockery in the sink. Her daughter was a vital young woman who was being forced to face a world in which nothing was certain. Perhaps she and Martin were meant for each other – perhaps it was just a momentary fling brought on by the excitement of war and the sense that every day had to be lived as if it was the last. Either way, Peggy didn’t want her daughter to get hurt – and although she couldn’t always protect her, she could at least help give her a bit of breathing space until she knew what she wanted.
Sally lay awake long after Cissy and Anne had stopped talking next door. She wasn’t used to sleeping alone, and was alert for any sound of distress coming from Ernie. He had surprised her by willingly clambering into the narrow bed Jim Reilly had carried up earlier. At six,
‘Oh.’
‘He can’t tell me where he’s going, of course, but he promises it isn’t too far away, and that he’ll be able to see me when he’s on leave or stood down.’ She flicked back her hair and fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, her gaze not quite meeting her mother’s. ‘He says his parents want to meet me, and that they’ve invited me to lunch next Sunday.’ Her brown eyes finally settled on her mother. ‘I can’t really refuse, can I? It would be terribly rude.’
Peggy had watched her closely and suspected she knew the reason behind her reluctance. ‘You don’t have to accept the invitation,’ she began. ‘If they still want to meet you in a few weeks’ time, you can go then.’ She touched her daughter’s hand. ‘Are you afraid that if you go, it will give out the wrong message?’
Anne nodded. ‘We’ve only known each other a couple of months, and meeting his parents is taking things a bit too quickly.’
‘Have you told him that?’
‘Mmm. But he said he didn’t want to wait any longer, and what with him already flying missions, he doesn’t want to risk …’ Her brown eyes were tear-filled as she looked at her mother. ‘I don’t know what to do, Mum,’ she murmured. ‘I do love him, really I do, and it would be simply awful if anything happened to him. But it’s all moving so fast, and I feel I’m being pressured.’
Peggy stood and gathered her into her arms. ‘Then tell him you’ll see his parents another time, and that you need to be certain about things before you rush into them. If he loves you, he’ll understand.’
There were questions Peggy wanted to ask, but was afraid to hear the answers, so she kept silent. She and Jim had met when he was on leave during the First World War. They had rushed into things and, before she’d known it, she was expecting Anne. Jim had done the right thing by marrying her, but those first years had been tough, and there had been many a time since then that she’d doubted whether he really loved her.
But then Jim had never been a man to turn down the favours of a pretty woman and, although it broke her heart, she’d had to live with that knowledge, and rein him in when things got overheated. They were happy enough, and she still adored him, but like his father, he was a man who walked his own path.
‘We haven’t … you know … Done anything,’ said Anne hesitantly, her face reddening.
‘Good,’ said Peggy firmly. ‘Just you make sure it stays that way until you get a wedding ring on your finger.’
Anne’s blush deepened. ‘But I do love him, Mum. So much. It’s really difficult …’
‘I think you and young Martin should do your courting here,’ said Peggy. ‘You can have the dining room after tea. I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed.’
Anne visibly relaxed, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. ‘Thanks, Mum.’ She kissed Peggy’s cheek. ‘I’ll tell Martin next time he telephones.’
‘You do that, love.’ She kissed Anne goodnight and began to clear away the mugs. But her hands stilled as she set the crockery in the sink. Her daughter was a vital young woman who was being forced to face a world in which nothing was certain. Perhaps she and Martin were meant for each other – perhaps it was just a momentary fling brought on by the excitement of war and the sense that every day had to be lived as if it was the last. Either way, Peggy didn’t want her daughter to get hurt – and although she couldn’t always protect her, she could at least help give her a bit of breathing space until she knew what she wanted.
Sally lay awake long after Cissy and Anne had stopped talking next door. She wasn’t used to sleeping alone, and was alert for any sound of distress coming from Ernie. He had surprised her by willingly clambering into the narrow bed Jim Reilly had carried up earlier. At six,
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