‘She don’t half look like our Jake at that age, for all that she’s a lass. Funny really, when he’s grown up to be more like the Bancroft side than you and Lil. Don’t reckon you two got owt off your old man but your noses and a store of bloody-mindedness.’
‘And we’re very grateful for both,’ Bobby said with a laugh.
Rob dusted down his uniform. ‘What do you think then, will I pass muster tonight?’
‘Yes, you look very smart. We ought to get a photo of you at the studio in Skipton, Dad. I’m sure your grandchildren will want a keepsake of their grandad in uniform. I mean, in uniform for this war.’
‘Oh, us old lads are only laiking at soldiers. No cause for photographs.’ Still, he looked rather pleased at the suggestion.
Once Tony and Rob had been furnished with sandwiches and a tea-filled Thermos, they left to catch the bus into Settle and Lilian went outside to pump some water. Bobby pressed a kiss to the dozing baby’s soft, dark hair and put her back in her pram. Then she looked around the barn-cottage that had once been her home.
Not much had changed since she had lived here with her father. Lil had purchased new curtains, but everything else remained just as it had been.
The main difference was in the presence of Annie – not only her little self but the many baby items that now littered the house. Two clothes horses filled with terry towelling were standing by the fire, beside the bucket Lilian used for soaking them. Pieces of matinee coat were bundled on the settee waiting to be sewn up. Annie’s tiny tin bath hung on a hook abovethe fireplace, next to the larger one that served the full-grown members of the family. On wandering into the kitchen, Bobby found it filled with glass bottles, rubber teats, tins of Household Milk and other signs of the infant resident around which life in Cow House Cottage now revolved. It must be trying for Lilian, living in such a small space with all this clutter.
It would be difficult for the other residents too – her father particularly. Bobby knew he must feel more keenly than he let on that he was occupying a home he could no longer be the head of.
She wondered how her own home would be transformed when Marmaduke arrived. Her parlour wasn’t so confined as Cow House Cottage’s, but there was only one small bedroom. There wouldn’t be much space for her little family once they had to squeeze in a cot, bath and other baby items.
Still, at least she and Charlie had running water, unlike poor Lilian. Bobby well remembered how she had ached after drawing water from the cow house’s stiff outdoor pump. With two men and a baby to provide for, bottles to sterilise and napkins needing constant soaking, Lilian must have to visit the evil thing several times a day.
Bobby found her eyes drawn to the door that led from the parlour to the extension that had housed Charlie’s veterinary practice. She went to peep inside.
Everything was as it had been when Charlie had left for the RAF: the steel examining table, the metal instruments hanging in their customary places. Lilian had clearly been keeping everything dust-free in there.
Bobby winced to think that her sister, whose days were already long and hard, should have been spending time polishing Charlie’s old instruments. She vowed to have a word with him about it. There was really no need for this room to be kept as it was, when his veterinary days were over. He might aswell sell his equipment, and let Lilian and Tony have the room for a nursery.
How would Charlie feel about gutting his old surgery? Bobby had a suspicion it would be a wrench for him, for all that he accepted it would be impossible now to return to veterinary work.
It reminded her of how she had felt when her dad had talked about selling the house in Bradford. Bobby had no wish to live in the place again, now her home was here. It wasn’t even as if she’d been particularly happy there – or at least, the happy memories were tainted by the recollection of her mother’s illness and death. But it was a part of her past, synonymous with growing up and with family. The idea of another family making it their own…
She could imagine Charlie feeling the same about the surgery, symbolising the job that had been such a big part of his pre-war life. But what else was there to do? It would be foolish to make a shrine of the place.
As she scanned the room, Bobby’s eyes flickered to one of the lockable cupboards. When she had lived here, she had used it to keep the spirits she gave her dad after a nightmare safely locked away. Bobby had handed custody of the key to Lilian when she had moved out.
The spirit was one Bobby’s friend Don Sykes got for her, distilled by a pal of his from potato peelings. Bobby had made sure to stock up the last time Don had been on leave from the army, in case it was a while until he could get more for her.
She wasn’t sure why, but something drew her to the cupboard. She found herself trying the handle.
Strange. It was open. Surely Lil hadn’t been so remiss as to forget to lock it? She said their father hadn’t been drinking, but if a low mood struck, the temptation of an unlocked cupboard full of spirits might prove too much.
Bobby stared when she opened the door. It was empty.
Empty! But she had bought a dozen bottles from Don a few weeks before Christmas. Even in his worst drinking days, her dad hadn’t knocked it back at that rate.
She felt a cold dread settle on her.
‘It isn’t what you think,’ a quiet voice said from the doorway. Bobby looked up to see Lil, baby Annie in her arms.
‘There were twelve bottles in here less than a month ago,’ Bobby whispered. ‘Dad didn’t… he couldn’t have…’
‘No. Not him.’
Bobby stared at her. ‘You didn’t.’
Lilian laughed. ‘Mercy, Bob, is that really what you think of me? I’m not quite on the road to becoming a dope fiend just yet.’
‘Then where is it?’
