you.’
‘Is Arthur with you? Surely he hasn’t given up that nice job in the museum?’
‘Arthur might come later,’ Jessica said briefly.
Sheila turned her gaze on the baby. ‘Is this Penelope? Oh, let me hold her. Isn’t she beautiful? Come to your Auntie Sheila, there’s a good girl. Sit down, Jess. Make yourself at home.’
This is what I’ve missed, Jessica thought warmly; the feeling that people care, the togetherness, as if everyone in the street belonged to the same family. It was something she’d never been aware of when she’d lived there as a child.
‘It seems dead funny, seeing women with children younger than me own,’ Sheila said, chucking Penny under her fat chin. ‘I had six in seven years, which meant I always had a baby, but our Cal refuses to have any more till the war’s over. He says six kids and a wife are already enough to worry about whilst he’s away at sea.’
‘Well, you can’t blame him,’ Jess said reasonably. ‘How is Calum?’
‘He was fine when I last saw him in July. He’s on the Atlantic convoys. I never know when to expect him home.’ She looked at Jessica with scared eyes. ‘It’s terrible dangerous, Jess. Most nights I can’t sleep for thinking about Cal, stuck on a little boat somewhere in the middle of the ocean and all those U-boats about. I’ve lost track of the number of his mates who’ve been killed.’
Jessica was unsure how to reply. What on earth were you supposed to say to someone in Sheila’s position? The loss of life at sea, the tonnage of ships sunk, was horrendous, and had been so since the very first day war started and the
Athenia
had been torpedoed on its way to Canada.
‘Never mind,’ Sheila sighed. ‘If I say enough prayers, God won’t dare let anything happen to Cal.’ She stared at Penny curiously. ‘Y’know, it’s awful funny, Jess, but she’s got a definite look of our Siobhan – y’know, me oldest girl. Isn’t that peculiar?’
‘Very peculiar,’ Jess agreed.
‘Anyroad, now’s you’re here, you may as well have a cup of tea with us. I was just about to make one, me dad’ll be along in a minute on his way home from the pub, though you can put the kettle on yourself.’ She hugged Penny, who looked quite content in a strange woman’s arms. ‘There’s no way I’m going to give up this lovely little bundle.’
‘I’ve already made tea,’ Jessica said. ‘I’ll go and fetch it. It would be a shame to waste a whole pot.’
She fetched a dozen eggs at the same time – she’d brought a whole tray with her which she’d intended keeping for herself, but Sheila’s open-hearted welcome had touched her. She remembered the way people usually shared things, particularly good fortune if it came their way.
Sheila was overwhelmed when Jess returned. ‘Eggs! A whole dozen! I’ll give some of them to Brenda.’
‘You can buy eggs from the farms,’ Jess explained. She went into the back kitchen and poured the tea.
‘Our Eileen’s started keeping hens out in Melling, though none of them have laid yet, they’re only little.’
‘I must go and see her.’
‘Perhaps we could all go together one weekend?’
‘That’d be nice.’ Jess could hear laughter in the street, men’s voices. The King’s Arms was letting out. She held her breath, feeling on edge as she waited for the key to be drawn through the letterbox, for the door to open. She wondered if she’d purposely forgotten the milk, so she would have an excuse to call on Sheila Reilly the minute she arrived.
A few minutes later came the sound which she’d been so anxiously expecting. The front door was opened. ‘It’s only me, luv,’ a man’s voice called.
‘Come on in, Dad,’ Sheila called back.
And the giant figure of Jack Doyle appeared, almost entirely filling the doorway of the living room.
Chapter 3
Jack Doyle stood immobile in the doorway, his face totally expressionless. He was better dressed than usual, in a cheap navy-blue
‘Is Arthur with you? Surely he hasn’t given up that nice job in the museum?’
‘Arthur might come later,’ Jessica said briefly.
Sheila turned her gaze on the baby. ‘Is this Penelope? Oh, let me hold her. Isn’t she beautiful? Come to your Auntie Sheila, there’s a good girl. Sit down, Jess. Make yourself at home.’
This is what I’ve missed, Jessica thought warmly; the feeling that people care, the togetherness, as if everyone in the street belonged to the same family. It was something she’d never been aware of when she’d lived there as a child.
‘It seems dead funny, seeing women with children younger than me own,’ Sheila said, chucking Penny under her fat chin. ‘I had six in seven years, which meant I always had a baby, but our Cal refuses to have any more till the war’s over. He says six kids and a wife are already enough to worry about whilst he’s away at sea.’
‘Well, you can’t blame him,’ Jess said reasonably. ‘How is Calum?’
‘He was fine when I last saw him in July. He’s on the Atlantic convoys. I never know when to expect him home.’ She looked at Jessica with scared eyes. ‘It’s terrible dangerous, Jess. Most nights I can’t sleep for thinking about Cal, stuck on a little boat somewhere in the middle of the ocean and all those U-boats about. I’ve lost track of the number of his mates who’ve been killed.’
Jessica was unsure how to reply. What on earth were you supposed to say to someone in Sheila’s position? The loss of life at sea, the tonnage of ships sunk, was horrendous, and had been so since the very first day war started and the
Athenia
had been torpedoed on its way to Canada.
‘Never mind,’ Sheila sighed. ‘If I say enough prayers, God won’t dare let anything happen to Cal.’ She stared at Penny curiously. ‘Y’know, it’s awful funny, Jess, but she’s got a definite look of our Siobhan – y’know, me oldest girl. Isn’t that peculiar?’
‘Very peculiar,’ Jess agreed.
‘Anyroad, now’s you’re here, you may as well have a cup of tea with us. I was just about to make one, me dad’ll be along in a minute on his way home from the pub, though you can put the kettle on yourself.’ She hugged Penny, who looked quite content in a strange woman’s arms. ‘There’s no way I’m going to give up this lovely little bundle.’
‘I’ve already made tea,’ Jessica said. ‘I’ll go and fetch it. It would be a shame to waste a whole pot.’
She fetched a dozen eggs at the same time – she’d brought a whole tray with her which she’d intended keeping for herself, but Sheila’s open-hearted welcome had touched her. She remembered the way people usually shared things, particularly good fortune if it came their way.
Sheila was overwhelmed when Jess returned. ‘Eggs! A whole dozen! I’ll give some of them to Brenda.’
‘You can buy eggs from the farms,’ Jess explained. She went into the back kitchen and poured the tea.
‘Our Eileen’s started keeping hens out in Melling, though none of them have laid yet, they’re only little.’
‘I must go and see her.’
‘Perhaps we could all go together one weekend?’
‘That’d be nice.’ Jess could hear laughter in the street, men’s voices. The King’s Arms was letting out. She held her breath, feeling on edge as she waited for the key to be drawn through the letterbox, for the door to open. She wondered if she’d purposely forgotten the milk, so she would have an excuse to call on Sheila Reilly the minute she arrived.
A few minutes later came the sound which she’d been so anxiously expecting. The front door was opened. ‘It’s only me, luv,’ a man’s voice called.
‘Come on in, Dad,’ Sheila called back.
And the giant figure of Jack Doyle appeared, almost entirely filling the doorway of the living room.
Chapter 3
Jack Doyle stood immobile in the doorway, his face totally expressionless. He was better dressed than usual, in a cheap navy-blue
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