‘Clean handkerchiefs?’
Charlie laughed. ‘All right, you’ve caught me out. I forgot the clean handkerchiefs. Do you feel better now?’
Bobby did feel a little better at finding he hadn’t remembered quite everything. It made her feel useful. She pushed on her slippers and went to fetch some freshly starched handkerchiefs.
‘And don’t forget your stick,’ she begged him as she tucked the hankies into his case. ‘I know it makes you feel self-conscious, but I’d worry half to death if I thought you’d gone all the way to London without it.’
Charlie took her in his arms.
‘I’ll miss having you fuss over me,’ he said softly. ‘Think of me while I’m away, won’t you?’
‘I will.’ Bobby stroked his scarred cheek. ‘How are you feeling about it?’
‘I don’t know if this makes me the most callous man alive, but… in a way, I’m looking forward to it. To seeing the boys, and feeling like I’m part of a gang again. I miss that bit of RAF life. Is that terrible?’
‘No, love.’
‘I’m even looking forward to seeing Hynesy. I know what state he’s going to be in, and yet…’ He paused. ‘It feels like a privilege to be granted a chance to say goodbye. We’ve lost so many pals who just went out one day and never came back. I know it’s going to be emotional, I know he’ll be in terrible pain, but I’mglad to have the opportunity to shake his hand and wish him luck in the next life.’
‘You think about death differently, when you’ve had to live with so much of it,’ Bobby said quietly. ‘I know it isn’t the same for me, but I lost friends in the RAF too. Here.’ She gave him a kiss. ‘You can have that one on account, and I’ll be waiting with more and better when you get back. Hurry home, won’t you?’
‘I will. You take care of yourself, all right? And no running off with Ernie King while I’m away.’ He rested a hand on her stomach. ‘Look after this little one. I love you both very much.’
‘We love you too.’
With a last kiss, he left. Bobby heard him slide his stick from the umbrella stand, then the front door closed behind him.
Bobby didn’t go straight to work. She’d brought the corrected magazine proofs home the day before so she could take them into Settle first thing. There she would drop them off with the printer so they could be turned into the February number ofThe Tyke.
Her thoughts were filled with Charlie as she walked to the bus stop, some two miles from their cottage. It was going to be draining for him, saying goodbye to that poor boy. Bobby could only imagine how emotionally wrung out she would feel if she had a similar deathbed visit to make.
She took out her purse to see how much of her wage was left.
Hmm. Barely three shillings. It wasn’t much to last until Sunday, yet she would have liked to get a few nice things in for Charlie. They had enough points for a can of salmon and some tinned fruit, if she could only spare the money. Bobby knew she oughtn’t to fritter money away on luxuries, but the blackouthours felt so long and dreary in winter that it would be bleak to dine on nothing but vegetable soup and gritty slices of National Loaf every day.
Her gaze fell on the ten-shilling BBC postal order in her purse, and her mouth twitched.
Yes, that’s what she’d do. It was really bonus money, after all. She had earned it herself, entirely unexpectedly, and Charlie deserved a little treat after his emotional journey. She would get the salmon and a tin of pears or peaches, which would go well with some custard powder she had been hoarding, and a jug of beer from the Hart. When her husband came home, they could have a proper beano tea: just the two of them, snuggled in front of the fire.
It was the first time Bobby had thought about the letter from Broadcasting House since the day it had arrived. Other things had pushed it from her mind. She thought about it now, however.
Charlie was right: her employment atThe Tykewould have to end soon. But she still had this, didn’t she?
Perhaps she had been lucky with the two jokes she had sold. Perhaps there would be no further postal orders. Then again, it was Bobby’s brain that had furnished those jokes and who was to say she didn’t have more of the same in there? And tonight she had a whole evening to herself. If Bobby could pen… say, a dozen jokes good enough for Tommy Handley or one of the other radio comics, then that would be three pounds, wouldn’t it? Maybe she was aiming too high, but still, more than a week’s wages for an evening’s work – now that would be something!
The thought of being able to add to the family pot, and even more of having a goal to aim for, cheered Bobby immensely. Giving up work didn’t feel so daunting now she had this. She hummed as she strolled along the narrow road, beaming withmaternal fellow-feeling at some of the pregnant ewes in the fields.
The expectant sheep were just one of the signs of spring starting to appear as January advanced. Showers of white snowdrops stood out against the grass, and although it was cold, with patches of snow on the fells, the winter sun shone as brightly as an afternoon in June. Bobby smiled on it all, pleased to have made a plan and pleased to think she had the resources to do something nice for Charlie.
She spotted Jolka walking towards her from the direction of Sumner House. Bobby pulled her coat around her, conscious of the bump she was still keen to hide. Jolka’s own bump was now clearly visible. She carried her pregnant frame proudly, and a little defiantly. Bobby, however, was only grateful she had spent the previous weekend adjusting her old coat so it billowed out from under her bust rather than her thickening waist.
She might have known Jolka, always stylishly dressed, would notice this.
‘Bobby.’ She beamed when she met her. ‘How glowing you are today! That is a flattering new cut for your coat.’
Bobby was glad it was cold, which would explain any pinkness in her cheeks.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ve become quite the seamstress since this war started. I could barely sew a stitch before without breaking my needle. Have you been to see Topsy?’
