Bobby blinked, thoughts of little green men with ray guns popping into her head. ‘Dematerialised? Like in that Flash Gordon serial I took you to?’
Mary turned around, smiling like her usual self again, although her eyes remained rather red. ‘I think she means demobilised, the daft apeth,’ she said, coming forward to kiss the top of Florrie’s ginger curls. ‘And I hope that when your father returns, Florence Parry, he comes back to hair that’s been better brushed than this mop top. Now go finish getting ready for school, the pair of ye.’
Jessie, who looked a little pale, blinked at her from the fireside where she had taken the poorly Hetty on to her lap. ‘Mary, are you sad?’
‘Don’t be foolish, child. Why on earth should I be sad?’
‘Your eyes look like after crying.’
Mary mopped up an escaped tear with her handkerchief. ‘Oh, pay that no mind. I’ve been chopping leeks for dinner, that’s all. They’re as bad as onions for bringing on the waterworks.’
‘I’m going to get Dad’s room ready,’ Florrie announced. ‘It ain’t half so big as the one he had in our old house but we can soon make it nice, can’t we, Jess?’
‘I think so,’ Jessie said uncertainly.
‘You’re going to do no such thing.’ Mary tapped Florrie’s head with a wooden spoon. ‘You’re going to make yourself smart for school. You pair, me and Reg will have a little talk later aboutarrangements for when your dad gets home. He won’t be leaving the Army until April at the earliest.’
‘All right. But I’m going to draw him a picture if there’s wet playtime, and we can put it on the wall for when he gets here. Jess, come on.’
Florrie ran out of the room again, a little ginger whirlwind, and her sister followed more soberly in her wake. Mary gave the smaller child’s shoulder an affectionate press as she went by.
‘Poor love,’ she said quietly to Bobby. ‘Florrie’s all excited, but Jess has seen so little of her dad these past few years that he must seem more like a fond uncle than a father – someone who shows up every once in a while to give her a hug and press a florin into her hand before disappearing. She looked so worried when I said she was to live with him again, bless her heart. But the captain’s a fine man, and she’ll soon remember how to love him.’
‘I had no idea he might be getting his ticket.’ Bobby put an arm around Mary’s waist. ‘That must have been a shock.’
‘Yes, right out of the blue. It’s that wound in his shoulder. It gives him so much pain that he applied for medical discharge. Never said a word about it in case it should be refused, so it came as a big surprise when I opened his letter this morning.’ She swallowed a sob. ‘I knew they were never really mine to keep,’ she said in a choked whisper. ‘But I had hoped God would grant us a while longer.’
‘Oh, Mary. I am sorry.’ Bobby gave her a hug.
‘I’m a soft old baggage,’ Mary murmured. Bobby patted the older woman’s shoulder while she got a fresh batch of tears out of her system.
‘Florrie seems convinced the captain’s going to live here with you,’ she said.
Mary gave a damp laugh. ‘Aye, the foolish child. I’ll set her right gently this evening. It doesn’t occur to her for a minute that this isn’t their real home, but only temporary for the war.’
‘Why would it? They’ve been made so welcome, and been so loved. When you and Reg told them they’d always have a home here, I suppose it seemed only natural in the minds of children that that extended to their father as well.’
‘I’d offer, if we’d only the space – at least until they got on their feet with a home of their own. But we’ve only Charlie’s little box room, and George isn’t going to want to live under another man’s roof for long, I suppose.’ Mary let out another sob as she took his letter from her pocket. ‘He says… says that now the blitzes are less frequent, he’s aiming to take them back to London.’
Bobby took the letter from her.
‘Well, perhaps not,’ she said, skimming it. ‘He only says maybe. I’m sure he’d talk to the girls first. Once he knows how strongly they feel this is their home now, he’ll surely reconsider. He was a tailor as a civilian, wasn’t he? There must be as much work here in textile country as there is down in London – more, even.’
‘Perhaps. But he’s relatives there, and friends – folk who can help him get on his feet. George Parry is a proud man. He’ll not want to be dependent on the charity of a pair of strangers.’
‘You and Reg aren’t strangers. Not to the girls. You’re family.’
She sighed. ‘But will he see it that way? He barely knows us from Adam, for all that the childer have grown fond of us. Besides, he won’t like the idea that anyone else has been filling his place in their lives.’
‘He surely wouldn’t be so petty. I’m certain he’ll just be glad his girls have been well cared for while he’s been gone.’
‘I don’t know, Bobby. It’s natural to get a little jealous when it comes to those we love. Already Jessie feels afraid of going backto a life she only half remembers. It’s three year since she last lived with her dad; that’s a long time in the life of an eight-year-old. How would you feel, if she were yours and you came home to find her clinging to strangers instead of running to her mam?’
‘The captain’s an upright man. He’ll do the right thing.’
‘I’m being daft, I suppose. Crying my silly old eyes out when Florrie’s thrilled to pieces, and quite right she should be. Too many bairns don’t have daddies to come home to them at all these days.’ Mary wiped her eyes and summoned a smile. ‘I’m all right now. Sit down while I bring your egg, and tell me all the news of that young scapegrace Charlie.’
Bobby sat down and poured herself a cup of tea from the pot on the trivet.
