Peace In My Heart. Freda Lightfoot

when a B-24 Liberator had crashed into the village school and houses killing over fifty people and dozens of children. The many airports had endured some problems throughout the war but the town had still welcomed holidaymakers in need of a little fun, and had generously provided accommodation to thousands of evacuees, including herself and her younger sister. Fortunately, Blackpool had suffered fewer disasters than many other places, certainly much less than Joanne’s hometown of Manchester. Life seemed to be rather like the sea, one moment calm and benevolent, the next cruel and harsh because of the horrors of war. But they’d found it a great place to live.

      Thankfully the war was at last over, so hopefully things would improve. Looking out across the calm blue Irish Sea, the sandy beach was smooth and golden, stretching for some distance. Joanne had brought some sandwiches and cakes to contribute to the party they would all enjoy later. She’d even seen someone bring along a stack of odd-looking yellow pieces of fruit, which were apparently bananas, not something she’d ever tasted, and she greatly looked forward to savouring them.

      ‘God save the King,’ somebody called out. Cheers of joy met this cry, turning it into the national song.

      Joanne glanced at her watch. Half past three. Her afternoon break would generally be almost over at this point. Lunchtime at the boarding house where they lived, the two landladies having cared for them this last three years, had been busy as usual with many wives having come to visit their RAF husbands. Joanne always looked forward to an hour or two of freedom in the middle of the afternoon when she could refresh herself in the sea air and sunshine. Those two dear sisters, Aunt Annie and Aunt Sadie, readily encouraged her to take a break, and today being one of celebration, there was no demand for her to rush back to work. No doubt they too were around somewhere enjoying this celebration. From where she stood on the promenade close to the Tower and the North Pier, Joanne watched her sister Megan happily dancing with Bernie, their landladies’ nephew. He’d first asked Joanne but she’d politely declined, anxious to sit and wait for Teddy to come, knowing in her heart that she could love no man but this GI.

      Oh, but why hadn’t he arrived when he’d promised that he would, knowing she so enjoyed dancing with him? He was a most dapper and exciting GI, billeted in Garstang. Joanne did once visit him there to attend a dance at the village hall. She’d been shown around the camp, tripping along duckboards in her heeled shoes to view the Nissen huts, cookhouse and officers’ mess. It was a bit of a dump, packed with gallon drums, jeeps, fuel; wet clothing hanging on hedges or trees to dry that didn’t look at all proper. He’d taken her to see the tent where he and his mates were accommodated and had given her a cuddle and a kiss. She took care that he did no more than that, not wishing to be taken advantage of. Many girls were happy to lose their virginity with a man who could be killed in the war, something they felt they should not object to. Joanne was far more cautious being only seventeen, very young and innocent.

      Oh, but how she loved him. These GIs were most attractive men and happy to come into Blackpool to visit one of the many pubs on the promenade, or enjoy the dancing at the Tower Ballroom, sometimes dressed as a civvie instead of in their uniform.

      After the dance she and Teddy would often take a drink in a pub and she would sit on his lap for him to kiss and caress her, sending her senses skittering at the thrill of his touch. More often than not there were other girls hovering close by. Joanne paid them no heed, accustomed to the fact that these guys were never short of admirers, being popular men. And she was perfectly certain that Teddy viewed her as his favourite girl. Hadn’t he told her so a million times?

      So why wasn’t he here on this special day? There was so much she felt the need to say to him now the war was over. Joanne gave a sigh and stood up, brushing away the sand that had blown onto her skirt.

      When a hand lightly touched her shoulder she felt a frisson of recognition. He’d arrived at last. Instantly filled with pleasure and excitement, Joanne quickly turned to give him a hug, eager to welcome him while inside she felt in complete turmoil. Did she dare to tell this man how much she dreamed of a happy future together? ‘Oh, Teddy, it’s so wonderful to see you. This day of celebration is such a thrill. I’ve missed seeing you this last couple of weeks,’ she softly told him.

      He gave her a wink. ‘I’ve missed you too, honey. All my mates are revelling in VE Day, so why wouldn’t I do that too?’ he blithely responded. ‘It’s a great cause for us guys who’ve worked hard for you Brits during the war.’

      ‘Thankfully you’ve been spared the trauma that many have suffered. I’m so thrilled you are still fit and willing to join us.’ Joanne felt utterly breathless. His face was mere inches from her own, so irresistibly close that her heart pummelled with anticipation. His sculpted mouth curled into an entrancing smile and she ached to taste it and stroke his soft cheeks. This handsome GI was so intoxicating, such a wonderful and fun man and no doubt a hero as many American troopers were.

      As he stroked away a curl of her fair hair, his blue eyes gleaming with admiration, Joanne twinkled her gaze provocatively up at him, desperately hoping the sight of her in this new blue dress that hugged her figure in a most becoming way would captivate him. She’d clipped some of her blonde hair up on top of her head into rolled bangs and the rest fell neatly over her shoulder. She’d also patted her pale face with a little powder and wore a bright red lipstick, eager to look as attractive as possible.

      As if recognizing this emotion in her he gave a wicked smile and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘You’re such a pretty girl, honey.’ Then licking the soft curve of her upper lip, he slid his hand over her cheek and neck.

      Blushing with delight at this compliment, Joanne found her breathing quicken under the thrill of his caresses. Seconds later she was held in his arms where she’d most longed to be during all these endless days of waiting to see him again. How fortunate she was to receive the attention he was giving her. His hands rested possessively around her back, his cheek lay against hers and he was pressing her hard against his tall, strong body to give her a passionate kiss. Her heart raced and she felt slightly giddy at the quiver of his tongue as it probed her mouth, the enticing warmth of him running through her like fire. Oh, how she adored him.

      It was then that she became aware of a young woman standing close by. Doe-eyed and attractive, she was clinging fast to his arm. Shrugging her casually off, he whispered in Joanne’s ear, ‘Not too impressed with this festivity. Don’t we usually slip away somewhere quiet on our own, which is far more entertaining, huh? Let’s take a walk along the beach, honey.’

      Joanne had always loved the time they’d spent walking barefoot on the beach together, holding hands and enjoying the comforting sounds of the sea. He would talk about his dreams for a new career once the war was over and she would happily listen, hoping to be a part of his plan. He’d also succeeded on numerous occasions to persuade her to join him in some quiet Nissen hut near Squire’s Gate airport, or in his jeep, where they would hug and kiss. She felt completely smitten by his attention to her.

      Today the promenade was packed with hundreds of folk having fun, plus horse-drawn carriages and GI jeeps scuttling around. Glancing across at her sister, who was now dancing with a young boy, she hesitated. Megan was still quite young, about to turn eleven come September. Being only five at the start of the war she had at first badly missed their mother and suffered much in the way of trauma. Mam had used to write to them quite regularly, but then there came a time that whenever she or Megan wrote to her they failed to receive a reply. They’d entirely lost contact with their mother, perhaps because she’d moved or was dead. Megan being something of a shy, awkward girl, greatly in need of care, was convinced their mother had lost interest in them. How could they know? Not certain they would ever find her again, Joanne thought of herself as a surrogate mother, so felt entirely responsible for looking after her sister.

      Bearing all this in mind she should maybe stay close to her right now, but the loud sound of music playing was destroying all hope of her speaking to Teddy, which Joanne felt desperate to do. Walking along the beach would be much more private. Noting his admiring gaze fixed upon her, Joanne found the prospect of spending time alone with him far too irresistible to refuse. Giving him a nod, she said, ‘I am looking forward to dancing with you but we could take a short walk first, although not too far.’