Winter on the Mersey(64)
Now here she was, late back once more, and wondering what awaited her as she opened the front door. She didn’t really think that Tommy would be down the pub with Alfie again; she’d sat him down and had a long talk with him, about how she had to rely on him to act like an adult now, and he had to live up to her expectations. He had agreed, desperately sorry that he’d disgraced himself. They had hugged and made up and she hoped that he would abide by his promise. Yet, now that it had happened once, she dreaded him doing something similar again.
She broke into a smile as she saw that for tonight at least there was no cause for anxiety. Tommy had got the fire going and the kitchen was toasty warm, and he was sitting at the table with what Kitty recognised as one of Dolly’s casseroles in front of him. She’d have to make sure to return the favour as soon as she could. Dolly was so generous but Kitty knew stretching the ration for this wouldn’t have been easy.
‘I haven’t eaten it all!’ was how he greeted her. ‘Aunty Dolly made sure there was enough for you as well. You just need to warm it up.’
Kitty ruffled the top of his head, because she knew it would annoy him. ‘Thanks, Tommy. It’s just what I need. I’ll go and hang up my coat.’ She gave a heartfelt sigh of relief once he couldn’t hear her. She really hadn’t felt like cooking after such a long day. Now she could tuck in to one of Dolly’s hearty meals, no doubt full of the root vegetables that she grew in the victory garden.
Tommy was scraping the last of the juices from his plate as she took her seat opposite him. Just as she had hoped, the food was delicious, as Dolly had always been a dab hand at making something out of nothing. ‘Next time I have a day off I’ll make Dolly and Pop a nice pie to make up for their kindness,’ she said. ‘Do you think they’d like that, Tommy?’
‘They’d love it, I bet,’ he said seriously. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that he’d been very privileged these last few years, living out on the farm and eating all the produce there. He’d barely noticed that food was rationed. Now he had to come to terms with the grim reality of powdered eggs and very meagre amounts of butter, as well as all the other shortages and restrictions. He knew that Kitty and Dolly often swapped and shared what was available, but it didn’t compare to what he’d taken for granted before.
Kitty polished off the last of the stew and reached across the table. ‘Give me your plate – I’ll wash up. Do you want to listen to the wireless for a bit? There might be a Glenn Miller concert – you like him.’
Tommy shook his head. ‘I’ll have an early night, I think,’ he said. ‘I had to cover a big area today and I’m dead beat.’
Kitty nodded at the maturity of this. Maybe he had learnt his lesson. ‘All right then. I’ll say good night now, and see you in the morning.’
‘Night, Kitty.’ Tommy gave her a grin and went clattering up the stairs two at a time.
Kitty went into the hall after him and locked the front door while she remembered. That had been Danny’s job, and she always made herself do it in good time now, in case it slipped her mind when she was more tired later on. Then she set about doing the washing-up and left the clean casserole dish on the table so she could take it back to Dolly’s the next day. She put on the kettle for a cup of tea and added one more log to the fire. Tommy might want an early bed, but she wanted to read for a while and to let the events of the day settle. Then she’d catch the late news on the wireless.
She took out the latest letter from Laura. Kitty shook her head in amazement. How she wished she could see her friend now that Freddy had made it safely home. Laura had dashed off a hurried note as soon as the miracle had happened, and then followed it with a series of longer letters, explaining more fully how he had returned to safety; Kitty had managed to work out the gist of the events, despite the censor’s best efforts. He was now receiving treatment at a specialist hospital, as the blow to his head had caused long-lasting damage, and his burns had left their traces, but he was gaining strength day by day and his hair had even begun to grow more normally. Laura’s relief was evident.
There had still been no word about Marjorie, though. Laura feared this was affecting Freddy’s recovery, as he felt guilty that he’d survived when she maybe had not. Laura kept trying to tell him that didn’t make sense, but she admitted to Kitty that logic didn’t enter into it. All they could do was hope.
Kitty had to agree. Just about everyone she knew felt this in some shape or form: they were lucky to be alive when others close to them hadn’t been so fortunate. The bomb that had killed Elliott could have landed on the hospital and killed Rita too. Any of the houses on Empire Street could have been destroyed in the raids, but only old Mrs Ashby’s had suffered really badly. She knew she had to count her blessings. She and Tommy had a roof over their heads; so did the Feenys, and so did Rita and Ruby in the flat above the shop. Their sufferings were as nothing compared to those of the thousands who had lost their homes.
She picked up her book, which she’d left on the mantelpiece, but decided her eyes were too tired after all, and so she put it down again. Had she locked the back door? She checked it – of course she had.
She was about to turn on the wireless for the news when she heard a noise. Startled, she stood up straight and strained her ears, trying to tell where it had come from. Had she been mistaken? It was easy to imagine such things. There was nothing other than the usual sounds from the small back yard – the cat from the end of the road yowling or dislodging stones. There were always a few odd noises, she reassured herself. Old houses creaked and there was no getting away from that.