‘I’ll miss doing my part to help those poor boys, but when I’ve got my own wounded hero at home, it’s hard to feel too guilty.’ Topsy popped a shortcrust finger in her mouth, as usual eating like someone with no time to waste. ‘I think it will be rather an adventure, don’t you? I wish Maimie didn’t have to go but I’m looking forward to getting started on motherhood.’
Bobby would never cease to be amazed at the breeziness with which her friend considered such matters. Bobby was perpetually worrying herself into knots about how the changes in her life would affect her, but to Topsy, every change was just the next big adventure. Why couldn’t she be that way?
It felt strange, too, how little changed Topsy was. Bobby often felt like a whole other person than that girl who had first come to Silverdale, and Charlie had changed even more. Everyone she knew had changed to some extent, because two years of war did change people. Mary had become more independent, Reg softer, her father happier, Lilian more serious and Tony more responsible. Only Topsy seemed never to alter.
And yet Topsy had altered – a great deal, under the surface. Loving Teddy had taught her softness, and selflessness. Bobby could never have pictured the Topsy Sumner-Walsh she had met on New Year’s Eve 1940 as a mother, a nurse or the wife of a disabled man.
Topsy had matured, but she had managed to retain her colour, her buoyancy of spirit and youthfulness of heart – all the things people loved her for. No amount of war and hardship seemed able to rob her of them. Bobby felt sure her friend would have the same happy disposition all her life, and it gladdened her to think of it.
Chapter 22
‘Are you ready?’ Charlie murmured later that day, when he and Bobby arrived at Moorside for their family dinner. The time had come, finally, to share their big news.
Bobby didn’t know if she was or not. It felt strange that soon, everyone would know about Marmaduke. She was filled with worry about how the family would react when she revealed not only her pregnancy, but the sneaky way in which she had endeavoured to conceal it.
‘I suppose so,’ she whispered back. ‘Let’s go in. We’re a little late.’
In the kitchen, they found everyone already seated around the table: her father; Lil and Tony, with Annie in her high chair between them; Captain Parry and his daughters; and Reg of course, with Mary at the oven checking on the joint. The sound of merry chatter instantly made Bobby feel better. Everyone seemed in good spirits after today’s happy event.
Bobby wondered how they were actually supposed to announce their news. Ought she to bang her fork against her glass, as people did at weddings? She would feel so foolish. Perhaps she should leave it to Charlie.
‘Well, you’re here at last,’ Mary said as they each took a seat. ‘In that case, I can start serving up.’
‘Just a moment. Before we eat, there’s something I’d like to tell you all.’
Bobby glanced at Charlie in surprise. It wasn’t him who had spoken. It was Captain Parry, seeming to snatch the words right from their mouths.
Mary frowned. ‘Everything all right, George?’
The captain looked rather bashful. ‘Um, yes. I only wished all of you to know, before anyone else, that Miss Simpson and I… well, the fact is we’re engaged to be married. She did me the honour of agreeing to be my wife this afternoon.’
This was met by a shocked silence. Of course Bobby had known George was considering a proposal, but she hadn’t expected it to happen quite so soon. He and Miss Simpson had barely been walking out five weeks. Quick engagements weren’t unusual in wartime, but Captain Parry seemed such a sensible, cautious man.
The silence was broken by Lilian.
‘Congratulations, George,’ she said, smiling warmly. ‘She’s a wonderful girl. Every happiness to you both.’
This seemed to break through the collective daze, and a moment later Reg and Rob were slapping George on the back while everyone offered their congratulations.
‘You ought to have said summat, Ginger,’ Reg said. ‘I’d have got a bottle in to toast the happy news.’
Florrie, however, was staring at her father in horror.
‘You’re not really going to marryher, are you?’ she asked in a disgusted tone.
George rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘Now, Florrie, don’t be that way. You’ll like her ever so much when you know her better.’
The child’s lip wobbled.
‘I won’t let you,’ she said. ‘I won’t, so… there.’
Jess, who looked no happier about the situation, nodded in agreement. ‘Nor me either. We’ll… we’ll run away if you marry her. I bet you’ll be sorry then.’
‘I’m afraid it isn’t up to the two of you who I marry,’ their father said sternly. ‘We’ll talk about it at home.’
‘If you loved us then you wouldn’t marry no one without asking us,’ Florrie said, the tremble in her lip becoming more violent. ‘And you wouldn’t want to replace our ma with someonelikeher. That’s cruel, and it’s wrong and… and I’ll hate you forever.’
‘Florence Parry, I know you don’t mean that,’ Mary said, frowning. ‘You mind how you speak to your father.’
