The Heart of the Family. Annie Groves

the new probationer who just happened to have a very good pair of legs.

      ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Aunt.’

      ‘Well, yes, of course. How is your mother?’

      ‘She’s fine. I’ll tell her that you were asking after her.’

      Asking after her but not making any mention of going to visit Mum, Grace thought critically. But then that was her aunt all over.

      As he lay watching the probationer with the good legs, whilst his mother stood talking to Grace, Charlie realised that he was by no means as bothered about having failed to convince the Medical Board to discharge him from the army as he had pretended to his mother he was.

      Stationed where he was in barracks with easy access to London, and on home duties, might not give him as much money in his pocket as working for his father would have done, but it gave him one heck of a lot more freedom, and besides, there were always ways and means of making a bit of money if you knew how to go about things. There were always spivs hanging about the barracks ready to buy a chap’s drink and cigarette allowance – every soldier got either a bottle of Scotch or a bottle of gin a week – and anything else that might be going that could be sold on the black market. A brisk business was conducted selling items that had found their way out of the stores, and then there were the card schools, and one or two other wheezes.

      Being here in hospital had given Charlie time to think and what he had been thinking was that he might have been a bit rash in letting his mother persuade him into getting engaged to Daphne. Typically for Charlie, it was always someone else who was responsible for those things in his life for which he did not want to take responsibility. He had conveniently forgotten how pleased with himself he had been when it had first occurred to him that proposing to Daphne would be a good way of getting himself into his parents’ good books and getting out of the army.

      Now in Charlie’s memory of events it was his mother who had urged him to propose to Daphne, and his father who had urged him to leave the army, whilst he had simply and good-naturedly allowed himself to be carried along by their enthusiasm.

      Army life was really a bit of a doddle if you knew how to work things in your own favour, which Charlie boasted to himself that he did. He and a few other like-minded lads had scarcely missed a weekend in London the whole time he’d been at the barracks, and even when he had, there had still been some fun to be enjoyed locally, what with the townspeople eager to entertain them and the prettiest girls in the town eager to dance with them.

      Marriage was all very well, and something that a chap naturally had to do at some stage, especially with the country being at war, and a chap’s parents making a fuss, but lying here in hospital with pretty nurses everywhere made a chap think, it really did, and what it had made Charlie think was that he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to get married yet.

      The fact of the matter was that he’d actually been thinking about suggesting that he and Daphne put things off for a while. They could stay engaged, of course, but as he’d planned to remind Daphne, her own mother had originally suggested that they should wait. However, when he’d outlined this plan to his mother a few minutes ago, she’d opposed it immediately, getting herself into one of her states, and protesting that it was far too late for him to talk about delaying the wedding now, and reminding him of how lucky he was to have such a sweet girl to marry as Daphne Wrighton-Bude, and how generous his father had been on account of him marrying her.

      Listening to his mother had suddenly brought home to Charlie just what his life would be like if he did leave the army and come back to Wallasey to work for his father, which was why right now he was actually feeling rather relieved that his discharge had been refused, and that he was to report back to camp as soon as he had been declared medically fit to leave hospital.

      The pretty nurse with the good legs and the knowing smile, with whom he’d already indulged in a bit of harmless verbal flirtation, walked past the end of his bed and, after a quick look to make sure that his mother was still deep in conversation with his cousin Grace, he winked at her and congratulated himself mentally on being one of those people for whom life always had a way of working out well.

      ‘Well, tell your mother that I was asking after her, won’t you?’ Vi reminded Grace, for all the world, Grace thought indignantly, as though her mother was nothing and her auntie Vi was something very special indeed.

      They might be twins but her mother and her auntie Vi were as different as chalk and cheese in nature; you’d never even have thought they were sisters, never mind twins. Privately Grace was glad that her mother’s twin lived in Wallasey and not closer at hand, and that they didn’t have to see much of her or her family. It might have been through her cousin Bella that she had first met Seb, but she and Bella certainly weren’t close and neither were Luke and Charlie, whilst her dad made no secret of the fact that he had no time for Auntie Vi’s husband, Edwin.

      ‘Yes, I’ll tell her that, Auntie Vi,’ Grace agreed politely, proud of the nurses’ training that enabled her to keep her composure and not give her real feelings away.

      ‘I dare say your mother wishes she’d listened to me when I warned her to evacuate into the country, especially now. What are those sisters of yours going to do now that Lewis’s has been bombed?’

      ‘Lewis’s is still going to be doing business, Auntie Vi. They’re moving across into a warehouse.’ Grace smiled serenely but inwardly she was thoroughly irritated by her auntie’s manner.

      What she had said about Lewis’s was true, but it was also true that the twins had been told that the department store would have much less floor space, and that with the combination of the fire and the lack of goods to sell thanks to rationing, Lewis’s wouldn’t be keeping on all of the staff.

      She had, Grace decided, had enough of her aunt. Perhaps she felt more irritated by her than she should, because not only had she been on nights throughout the bombings, she had also had to come back on duty after only five hours’ sleep to fill in for a sick colleague. At least when she finished this shift, since she was starting days again tomorrow she could go straight to bed and get some sleep before the Luftwaffe started dropping their bombs again. She consulted the watch she wore pinned on a chain to the inside of her dress pocket, and then addressed her aunt briskly in her best no-nonsense voice.

      ‘Visiting time’s over now, Auntie, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, otherwise we shall both be in trouble with Sister.’

      ‘What?’ Somehow, before Vi could voice her indignation, her niece was walking her down past Charles’s bed and through the ward doors, and saying calmly to her, ‘I’ll tell Mum that you were asking after her.’

      Really, the modern generation of young women were most disrespectful to their elders and betters. She would certainly have something to say to Jean about her daughter’s behaviour the next time she saw her.

      As she left the hospital Vi pressed a handkerchief to her mouth in an effort to keep out the dust. How foolish some people were walking around without their gas masks. Vi never went anywhere without hers. How dreadful Liverpool looked with its bombed-out buildings and its shabby citizens. Thank heavens she did not live here any more. She couldn’t wait to get back to Wallasey. She just hoped there wouldn’t be any delays with the ferry now that one of them had been sunk by the Germans. Such a nuisance, you’d really have thought that someone would have made sure that the ferry boats were properly protected.

      Poor Charles. He had taken his bad news so well, even being gentlemanly enough to suggest putting off the wedding for a year to give Daphne time to grow accustomed to the idea of being married to a serving soldier. How noble he was. Fortunately she had managed to make him see that Daphne would not want him to make such a sacrifice. She would have to make sure that Daphne’s mother understood just how noble he had wanted to be, of course, when she telephoned her with the sad news that Charles was not after all going to be discharged from the army.

      ‘So what do you think we should do then?’

      Lou and Sasha had just been told that, reluctantly, Lewis’s was going to have to let them