She hadn’t taken the locket off since he’d given it to her. Every night she fell asleep with a hand pressing it against her heart, praying that Billy would never come to harm. She chanted the prayer over and over to ward off the gypsy’s words – You’ll find love and you’ll lose love. Oh how she wished she had never stepped into the old witch’s tent, for those words – that curse – had haunted her ever since!
The last of the mistletoe and ivy that Stanley had fetched for her that morning from Teal’s now used up in decorating the hall, drawing room and dining room, Florence glanced at the grandfather clock. Another forty-five minutes and she would change out of her maid’s uniform to go and meet Billy. Her heart fluttered at the prospect of seeing him again.
In his last letter he’d told her he would tell his mother he was catching a later train than the one he’d actually be on; that way he would be able to see Florence for an hour before his parents expected him. They both knew that if his mother had her way, he wouldn’t be allowed to leave her side for a single minute while he was home.
Florence went and checked that the fire was still burning in the drawing room. Miss Romily would be back soon with Hope and Annelise, and Florence wanted everything to be perfect for her. She had been away in London at her flat for a few days doing her Christmas shopping and catching up with friends, as well as her agent and publisher. She had asked Florence if she wanted to go with her for a change of scene, but Florence had declined. London was part of her old life; she had no interest in going back. This was where her life was now. And anyway, in the run-up to Christmas, there was so much to do here. Mrs Partridge couldn’t manage on her own, and Mrs Bunch was the laziest woman Florence had ever known. She did about an hour’s work and then spent the rest of her time nursing a mug of tea by the range while dishing up the latest round of gossip. She claimed constantly that she was on borrowed time, what with her varicose veins and what she proudly called her dicky ticker. Dicky ticker, my foot! thought Florence every time the annoying woman mentioned it.
‘It be a wonder to me every morning when I wakes and finds the good Lord has spared me for another day,’ Mrs Bunch often said.
No, thought Florence, the wonder was that Miss Romily didn’t get rid of her. But maybe it was a case of keeping her close to be sure of staying up to date with what was going on in the village.
After throwing another log into the grate and giving it a shove with the poker, then rearranging the tinsel on the Christmas tree – Stanley had been a little ham-fisted with it earlier when Florence had asked him to help – she went to see if Mrs Partridge needed anything doing.
‘All in hand,’ the older woman said cheerily. ‘The steak and kidney pudding is made and waiting to be steamed for supper, the mince pies are in the pantry and the trifle is all done. Why don’t you go and get yourself ready? I know you must be fair itching to see that young man of yours.’
Blushing, Florence didn’t need telling twice. She thanked Mrs Partridge and was about to go upstairs to her room and change when she heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by voices.
‘That must be Miss Romily back already with Hope and Annelise,’ she said, surprised.
‘Well, better look lively; I’ll put the kettle on and put a tray together. Doubtless they’ll be ready for a cuppa. The house is going to feel a lot jollier now with a few more people in it.’
‘Look who we came across on the Melstead Road!’ exclaimed Miss Romily, shrugging off her fur coat and throwing it on to a hall chair. ‘Doesn’t he look handsome in his uniform?’
Framed in the open doorway, a blast of freezing cold air rushing in around him, was Billy. And yet it wasn’t Billy. He looked so very different in his uniform, taller and broader, and somehow older. But oh how handsome he was! Florence’s heart thumped so hard in her chest that she struggled to speak.
‘Hello, Flo,’ he said, removing his cap. ‘Cat got your tongue?’
‘You look well,’ she finally managed to say while bending down to Annelise as the child tottered toward her with a wide toothy smile on her face.
‘Flo, Flo,’ the little girl said. ‘Flo, Flo.’
‘Look at that,’ said Hope. ‘All this time since we were last here, and she remembers you!’
‘Course she does,’ said Florence. ‘It’s because she’s such a clever little poppet.’ She picked up the child and hugged her, using her to hide behind. This wasn’t how she’d wanted Billy to see her, not in her uniform and in front of other people. She had planned to put on the new dress she had saved up for and style her hair better. She had planned to throw her arms around him and give him the biggest welcome-home kiss imaginable.
As if sensing her awkwardness, Miss Romily said, ‘Florence, why don’t you take Billy through to the kitchen and find him something to eat and drink while Hope and I sort ourselves out?’
‘First let me help with your luggage,’ Billy said. ‘It’s the least I can do after you giving me a lift, madam.’
‘Thank you, Billy, that’s very kind of you.’
‘I’ll give him a hand,’ Florence said, regaining her composure and lowering Annelise to the floor. ‘Meanwhile why don’t you go on into the drawing room? The fire’s lit, so it’s nice and warm in there. Mrs Partridge is making some tea for you.’
As soon as they were alone, and standing in the shelter of the porch, Billy swept Florence up in his arms. He kissed her long and hard, his cold lips pressed firmly against hers, and any niggling worries she’d had about him viewing her differently vanished. She kissed him back, and then when she began to feel light-headed with love for him, she said breathlessly, ‘You’ll get me sacked carrying on like this. I thought we were meeting at three o’clock?’
He smiled. ‘I managed to get away even earlier. Seemed like a good idea to me. Of course if it’s not convenient, I could always go away and—’
She tapped his chest with a finger. ‘You’re not going anywhere, not until you’ve helped me get the luggage in!’
‘Then what do you plan to do?’
‘Then you can have something to eat and we’ll go for a walk.’
He grinned. ‘Somewhere quiet and secluded, I hope.’
Florence tutted. ‘I hope you haven’t picked up any bad ways while you’ve been away, Billy Minton.’
‘It’s good to be home,’ Romily said with a contented sigh as she warmed herself in front of the fire. ‘It was lovely catching up with everybody in town, even if half the time we couldn’t see where we were going in the blackout and kept falling into the road, and nearly killing ourselves! But all the time I couldn’t wait to get back. London isn’t the same without Jack; it’s here where I feel closest to him.’
