Winter on the Mersey(42)
Violet huffed. ‘That’s the least of my worries, Mam. I can borrow Rita’s things when I get big, I know she’ll let me. I haven’t felt like eating for weeks though.’
‘Never mind that,’ said Dolly firmly. ‘That growing baby needs nourishment. It’s our job to see that it gets it. So you finish that ginger beer and then let’s see what we’ve got in the larder. You, my girl, are going to have a slap-up lunch, whether you like it or not. And I’ll join you. At last we’ve got something to celebrate.’ Her voice caught, despite her best efforts to be positive, because whatever happened, Eddy wouldn’t be here to see it. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye. Then she resolutely dashed it away. He’d be looking down on her from the Heaven he most surely was in and he’d be expecting her to take care of Violet and the child when it came. She couldn’t let him down.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nancy stared gloomily out of the bus window as the ruined streets of the city centre passed before her eyes. The sunshine made the roads hot and dusty, and the buses were stuffy. It was hardly worth dressing up for her WVS shift. Everything got covered in a fine layer of the dust, making her feel grimy before she’d even begun.
She’d almost not come, she felt so low. The alternatives were worse, though. Staying in with her detested mother-in-law was to be avoided at all costs. The old bag had dared to take on the mantle of grieving for Eddy, adding it to her list of woes. Nancy bristled with fury at the idea. Eddy used to do a painfully accurate impersonation of the whingeing old woman. Now to hear Mrs Kerrigan go on, you’d have thought he was her favourite, a treasured member of the family.
The usual escape route of heading round to her mother’s house was also more difficult now. The whole place reeked of sorrow – and no wonder. Nancy wasn’t immune to feeling bereaved at her brother’s death. She’d been truly fond of him, and knew he’d been a good brother to her, not tormenting her or teasing her in front of his friends. She’d miss him and his calm ways, the fact he would never let her wind him up, seeing through her temper tantrums and letting her quieten down in her own time. He’d been a breath of fresh air in the crowded atmosphere of Empire Street, and there hadn’t been anyone else quite like him. She’d popped round earlier to drop off Georgie – Dolly had begged her to do this more often now, as it was one of the few things that brought Violet out of herself. She’d been in and out as fast as possible, unable to meet her mother’s eye. When all was said and done, Dolly was her rock, and to see her so shaken hurt Nancy to the core. It was all too painful to think about.
What she couldn’t tell anyone was that she was also worried sick that something had happened to Gary. She hadn’t heard from him since D-day, and she was as certain as she could be that he’d been part of that operation. Realistically she told herself that he wouldn’t exactly have been sitting around with time to spare, writing long letters home. She didn’t want to begin to think of what he would have seen or what he would have been through. It shouldn’t surprise her that she hadn’t heard. The trouble was, if the worst happened, then she wouldn’t know. They’d gone to such pains to keep their relationship a secret that none of the men serving under him would think to seek her out and tell her. Nobody at his base would know to do so. She was just the nice lady who served the tea or helped to organise dances, sometimes having a few turns on the dance floor, nothing further than that. When it came to information she would be last to find out – if she ever did.
She missed him. Their first and only night together had been everything she had hoped for and more. At last here was a man who treated her as she’d longed to be treated – and who knew what he was doing. He’d made Stan Hathaway look like an amateur. She’d never experienced such pleasure and he’d still been there in the morning, murmuring about what a privilege it was to make love to a woman like her. She’d never known anything like it. She was desperate to have that again, to make up for everything she’d been missing up to now. It had been worth the risk of leaving Georgie overnight with the Parkers; she’d invented a twenty-four-hour bug when she’d picked him up and thought she’d just about got away with it.
Nancy had known she had to be careful, as she didn’t want to chance a pregnancy, what with Sid still being a prisoner of war, so it had reassured her to find that Gary had thought of this beforehand. That was another thing the Americans were known for – always having a supply of French letters, or rubbers as they called them. Well, she wasn’t going to object. It was one less thing to worry about, and heaven knew there were plenty of other anxieties to fill her head.
So she had to resign herself to living in limbo, not knowing if he was dead or alive and, if he was alive, when or if he’d be back. Meanwhile she had to carry on the pretence of everything being normal, and if people noticed she was a bit quiet they’d no doubt put it down to her brother being killed. Everyone was very understanding – so many others had lost a close family member, it wasn’t as if she was the only one. Mrs Moyes had suggested that she take some time off, but that was the last thing Nancy wanted. Working at the canteen got her out of the house and took her mind off everything else. Now, as the bus approached her stop, she hoped that, despite the heat, they’d be rushed off their feet. That would be several blissful hours of thinking about something else. Wearily she stood, balancing expertly in her peep-toe sandals as she weaved between the seats to the exit.