Always I'Ll Remember by Rita Bradshaw Page A

about his intentions should war be declared, she knew from comments he’d made to some of his friends that he would enlist. They all would. Which was probably why she’d taken a leaf out of her mam’s book and buried her head in the sand. Even in the last couple of days, when the country had been under blackout regulations and the town hall clock light extinguished and its chimes silenced, she’d told herself Hitler would back down at the last moment.
     
    ‘Am I going to get any help with the vegetables or not? And put her down, for goodness sake. She’s not a baby.’
     
    Her mother’s voice from the doorway behind her caused Abby’s mouth to tighten, but again she bit back the sharp rejoinder which came to mind. One half of the world seemed intent on invading and destroying the other half, and all her mam cared about was the Sunday dinner.
     
     
    The toot of a car horn outside announced James was early. Abby jumped up from the kitchen table, only for Nora to snap, ‘You, sit down and finish your dinner. He can wait.’
     
    Abby did not answer her mother but glanced towards her father, and when he gave an almost imperceptible nod, saying, ‘Let her go. No one wants to eat the day,’ she fairly flew into the hall.
     
    Clara had been sick just before dinner and was now asleep in bed, so when Abby shot out of the house it was only she who climbed into the car.
     
    ‘That was quick.’ James bent forward and kissed her but did not prolong the embrace, being only too aware of staring eyes and flapping ears up and down the street. Now the shock of Chamberlain’s speech had diminished and Sunday dinner was over, most people had gathered on their doorsteps to discuss the war. Since courting Abby he had come to understand that although Felstead Crescent was only a mile or so from Rose Street, it could have been another country. There were two doctors, a solicitor and several businessmen of high standing living in the Crescent, and everyone - at least outwardly - minded their own business. But in the last twelve months he’d learned enough to know that any gossip right on their own doorstep would hold more appeal for Abby’s neighbours than Hitler’s possible strategies.
     
    ‘Da’s home for a few days.’
     
    It was explanation enough and James nodded. He had tried his best to win Abby’s mother over in the early days of his relationship with her daughter, but had eventually admitted defeat, coming to the conclusion it was less traumatic for all concerned if he didn’t come into the house. Sometimes Nora managed to delay Abby for fifteen minutes or more before she was able to join him, but he did not mind this. He would wait all day for Abby. ‘How do you feel?’ he asked, starting the engine. ‘About the war, I mean.’
     
    ‘Awful.’ She waited until they were clear of Rose Street before she said, ‘How about you?’
     
    ‘The same, I suppose.’
     
    No, he didn’t. Abby glanced at him. There had been a bubble of excitement he couldn’t quite hide in his voice. Fear for him turned her stomach over but her voice was calm enough when she said, ‘I suppose you’ll join up now.’
     
    ‘Would you mind?’
     
    Of course she’d mind. She’d mind more than she could ever say. She smoothed the skirt of her pale pink georgette dress over her knees. She had made it from a pattern she’d found in one of the latest magazines and had been dying for James to see her in it all week. Now it didn’t matter.
     
    He glanced at her, one hand going out to cover hers briefly before he brought it back to the steering wheel. ‘Look, we’ll discuss it over a pot of tea a bit later, all right? At our place.’
     
    ‘Our place’ was a sixteenth-century-style inn they’d found early on in their courting days, tastefully furnished with antiques and serving afternoon teas. The two of them were a favourite with the landlady and she always found them a table, however busy it was.
     
    That afternoon James