Peace In My Heart. Freda Lightfoot

so much happier.

      ‘We’ve still not received any letter from our mother,’ Megan whispered, as she came to help with the washing-up. ‘So can we stay here?’

      ‘I’ve been struggling to decide that too. We need to think what we should do with our lives now this war is over. Once we’ve finished our morning jobs we’ll take a cycle ride to Stanley Park then enjoy a walk around, since it’s a Saturday and you’re not at school today.’

      ‘That would be lovely, sis. It ain’t gonna be an easy decision to make.’

      ‘Don’t worry, we’ll talk things through, love.’

      Breakfast being over, Joanne spent the next hour clearing and collecting cups and dirty plates, bustling back and forth, the two landladies upstairs busily dealing with bedrooms and bathrooms. The small dining room now empty, she gave that a clean too and set the tables in preparation for dinner. Once that was done, she went upstairs to tell Megan she was ready to go and they put on their cardigans and strong shoes then went to fetch their bicycles from the shed in the backyard.

      ‘We’ll cycle along Chapel Street then Hornby Road to the gateway to the park. I’ll just check the tyres.’

      While pumping them up, she saw Bernie, the landladies’ nephew, hovering by the kitchen door. Having only just turned eighteen, he’d thankfully been too young to be called up during the war, but had worked with the local Home Guard. They’d become reasonably good friends over the years but he was a bit boring in Joanne’s opinion, very much a gawky boy with a spotty complexion. Admittedly, his square face was now much smoother, with thick brown hair flopping over his brow, if still a little scrawny in build. There was a neat smartness about the clothes he wore now. They could be quite appealing and at times his grey eyes would hold a hint of shrewdness in their depth. But he was not exactly fun, exciting or good at jokes. Just quiet and conventional with strong ties to his aunts and the work he did for them, often helping with the cooking and various other tasks. Joanne had felt obliged to dance with him after Teddy had disappeared that day. Not something she had any wish to do again, never having viewed him as a possible love of her life. With a start, she realized he had caught her staring at him. Filled with embarrassment, she quickly turned away but not before she had noted how his expression looked most doting, which struck her as extremely odd.

      ‘If you’re off on a cycle ride, can I come with you?’ he asked politely.

      After giving Bernie an indifferent smile, Joanne pointed out they were going off to have a private conversation.

      ‘You aren’t planning to leave us like these refugees and other guests, are you?’ he said, looking dismayed at such a prospect.

      ‘It’s difficult to decide what we should do so we need to talk it through. Speak to you later, Bernie.’

      He watched them ride away with a gloomy expression on his face.

      Stanley Park was filled with a fine mist, swirling about like a bolt of gossamer silk. Not that this blocked the sound of aircraft landing in the aerodrome just beyond what had once been the bowling pitch. After locking up their bikes close to the café, the two girls set off to walk round the lake in order to escape the noise. The cool wind gathered momentum and turned into a dampening shower, the sting of rain on Joanne’s face making her feel this dreadful weather was adding to her sense of agony. Would she ever recover?

      The time she’d spent with Teddy had once seemed so sweet and filled with hope. Now all that had vanished since he still hadn’t written to her. Being young and having behaved most foolishly in trusting him, Joanne thought she might never trust any man ever again, let alone find the happiness she longed for. She felt miserable and sluggish, constantly rushing to the bathroom fearing she could be sick. Fortunately, that hadn’t happened so far, but she had very little appetite and was rapidly losing weight. Each night in bed she would quietly weep from the sadness of her lost love and her parents, which made her feel completely torn apart. Sensing that her heart could break, tears again spurted in her eyes and ran between her fingers as she attempted to wipe them away. Looking shocked, Megan quickly led her to sit on a bench.

      ‘What’s wrong, why are you crying again, sis? What is it that’s worrying you?’

      When her tears were spent Joanne sat for a moment in silence, feeling rather like a small mouse caught up in the rumble of sound from the aerodrome as they sat beneath this ash tree. It was then that she saw a squirrel emerge from a branch above her, its small sleek body glinting as it nibbled insects when the rain stopped and there came a bright glimmer of sun, no nuts anywhere around. It scampered down and dashed off to nearby fields, scavenging for fruit and vegetables, rather like a greedy thief stealing what didn’t rightly belong to him. They both burst into laughter. Thankfully she wasn’t a mouse or a squirrel, although possibly a foolish young girl. Taking a deep breath, Joanne finally confided in her sister the misery she felt in losing her American boyfriend, carefully making no mention of what he did to her.

      ‘Ah, I thought that might be why you weren’t looking good or eating well and keep weeping each night in bed,’ Megan responded fondly. ‘Do try to cheer up, lovey. Mebbe that GI will write to you one day.’

      ‘Oh, I do hope he does, once he’s settled in back home and found himself some employment. It could take a while for him to go through the necessary process he mentioned.’ A long delay was proving to be a strong element of concern, in fact something of a panic, not having had a period this month. If Teddy truly did love her and was doing his best to arrange for her to join him, he would surely write or maybe come looking for her one day, which would probably be here in Blackpool. Another good reason for them to stay on here. Her life then would be so much happier. Right now it could go completely wrong and Joanne had no wish to speak of this problem to her sister. ‘I must learn to be patient and cheer up,’ she said with a smile.

      Giving her another warm hug, Megan went on to speak of her personal delight at being offered a place at a local high school, come September, and her wish to attend. ‘To be honest, I’ve no desire to leave our lovely aunts or lose the offer from that school. Would you be willing to give up this job and return home? I do hope not,’ she stoutly declared. ‘I desperately want to stay here, being the only place I’ve enjoyed throughout the war.’

      A flicker of sadness and sympathy washed over Joanne. At the start of the war, Megan had been petite and shy, rather awkward and unsure of herself, feeling far too young to cope with the trauma of evacuation. Now she was a comely girl with a round, pretty face and a dimpled smile. Really quite bright so did deserve to attend that high school. And it was perfectly understandable that she was happy living with these landladies, feeling very much cared for. Things had been so different for them in the past.

      When they’d first been evacuated out to a bleak part of Keswick back in 1939, they were made to stand and wait at the railway station whilst the local people decided whom they were prepared to offer accommodation to. Being working class and a bit scruffy looking after that long journey, they were the last to be chosen. Her brother Danny, aged only eight at the time, had been selected by a farmer while she and Megan were chosen by another farming couple. Joanne had protested, claiming that being siblings they should stay together, but the billeting officer had ordered her to keep quiet. Having no idea where her brother was sent, she’d written to her mother, hoping Evie could discover that, which she did.

      Joanne and Megan had hated the farm they were originally taken to, being treated like slaves and required to work hard on the land. If they didn’t do as they were told they’d be deprived of the poor food they were granted only twice a day. They’d felt constantly hungry, often being given only bread and dripping for their evening meal. Nor were they ever allowed into the house. They had to sleep in a barn, sharing a small makeshift bed on the dirt floor with no heat or light save for a single candle. There was no toilet or bathroom available, just a potty, which they had to empty every morning. Each day they would rise early and have to walk miles to school, no lift by horse or cart ever offered them. When it was bitterly cold weather they’d frequently fall ill with colds, their hands chilblained. Joanne came to believe they’d been accepted as evacuees simply to provide those greedy people with money paid by