Peace In My Heart

‘Yer a nasty wiry worm! Stop bloody attacking me the whole damn time.’

Within seconds they were fighting. Willie thumped Danny much harder and more brutally, being fatter, taller, stronger and nastier than him. ‘Do as I flamin’ well tell you,’ he roared.

Growing taller and stronger, Danny felt the need to defend himself more, following years of bullying. It was only when they saw the camp leader reach the top of the climb that they pulled away from each other. Danny gasped for breath; all too aware he’d probably collected yet more bruises, as had happened to him so often in the past.

‘It was just a joke, what I did. I’ll make sure you regret having hammered me,’ Willie snarled as he stalked off, leaving Danny spitting with fury. How could he believe he’d done the wrong thing when this bastard was constantly harassing him? Willie Mullins had made his life a thousand times more difficult and painful throughout this dratted war. How he longed to be rid of him and ached to be back home with his mam, whom he sorely missed, as well as his sisters. According to the camp leader that wasn’t going to happen until the war in the East also ended, the Government having no wish to risk danger for evacuees.

Unfortunately, Willie too lived in Castlefield, both of them having attended the same school even though he was two years older than him, so when that did happen Danny could but hope he’d manage to stay well clear of him, now he too was almost grown up.

Chapter Three

When Joanne and Megan returned to the boarding house where they happily lived, they found it packed with soldiers. These comprised Polish aircrew, as well as many of their wives and children who had come to visit their husbands, always welcome thanks to these kind landladies. On this occasion everyone was happily engaged in watching a performance of brightly lit puppets before a curtain strung across part of the dining room, the children in particular excitedly laughing and enjoying the show. Joanne guessed the man creating this show would be Tomasz, a dapper young Polish man with fuzzy dark brown hair. He would often sing, play music or perform a mime, acting out a story with no speech but lots of clever movement. He was most gifted and great fun. Soon, he and his Polish colleagues would all be gone, and Joanne could see by the joy in this group how they were all looking forward to returning home. Not something she could expect to happen for herself and her sister.

Striving to block out the fears for their uncertain future, Joanne grabbed an empty tray of plates and carried it briskly to the kitchen. Aunt Annie was busily boiling kettles on the stove to make tea. Aunt Sadie stood at the table, slicing bread to make more sandwiches. This younger sister, in her mid-fifties was a small, round-faced lady with a plump nose, her piercing dark eyes guarded by tiny spectacles, her black hair firmly clipped up. As always, she was tidily dressed in a long dark skirt, a white blouse and a huge apron, her stockinged feet held in a neat pair of strapped flat shoes.

Joanne dashed to help by starting to chop Spam and lay slices onto the bread ‘We’ve had a lovely time today on the promenade and, of course, have enjoyed living here in Blackpool these last few years.’

Giving her a warm smile, Sadie said, ‘I remember the happy day we met you in that centre on Whitegate Drive early in 1942. You were such lovely little girls, if looking rather tired and sad, poor little Megan constantly weeping. How could we resist taking you in?’

‘We greatly appreciated that. Now I can’t get my mind round to leaving here and moving back to Manchester. I would sorely miss this town and you two caring ladies.’

‘Don’t fret, dear. We’ll miss you too when you leave but once that happens you can come and visit us any time you wish. Our work will thankfully calm down soon, although I shall miss spending each afternoon knitting scarves and rugs, soldiers no longer being in need of them, the war now over.’

Quietly piling the sandwiches onto the tray, having little appetite for food herself right now, Joanne gave a tremor of a smile. She was highly appreciative that Aunt Sadie’s efforts to support the troops had been a most important part of this lovely lady’s life, as it was for her sister, Aunt Annie. They were also most supportive and kindly towards herself and Megan, as this conversation highlighted. But she had no wish to reveal the anguish she’d just gone through by losing the GI she adored. ‘My mam always loved knitting too, plus sewing and lacemaking. Not that I’ve seen anything she’s made in years, let alone any sight of her. Who knows if I ever will again.’

‘I’m sure you will, dear.’

Joanne met her sympathetic gaze with speculation in her own. It was then that Megan burst through the kitchen door in a cloud of steam, her cheeks scarlet because of the heat of her surroundings as well as her fury. ‘If that RAF chap won’t keep his hands off tapping my bottom, I’ll land him a smack on his ear.’

Aunt Annie, older and taller with similar coloured hair, eyes and spectacles to her sister, let out a heavy sigh, clearly realizing who she was referring to. ‘He’s probably just a bit drunk on this day of celebration and was only teasing you, lass. Not all men are a problem, although the odd one can sometimes enjoy marlicking about on occasion. Ideally, I should mebbe chuck that fellow out and be in possession of a vacant room come dinnertime. However, he’s a man very much in charge, visiting some of the troops and paid to stay here by the Government so there’s nowt I can do about that.’

‘He’s no right to touch me,’ Megan tartly remarked. ‘I don’t like men at all.’

‘Quite right, love. Go and have a rest up in your room and keep well away from all these drunken chaps. That would be wise. I’ll have a quiet word with that Wing Commander Ramsbotham, silly fool that he is.’

Excusing herself with a spirited smile, Aunt Annie pushed up her sleeves and marched off to the dining room, a fierce look in her eyes as she prepared to do battle with this offender. What a character she was, and very meticulous. She had no intention of waiting hand, foot and finger on other folk’s whims and peccadilloes, appreciating the fruitlessness of such behaviour. Folk in this boarding house had to behave themselves or they were dispatched elsewhere, in spite of these landladies’ care and concern. Joanne knew that this dear lady was of the opinion that the amount the Government paid for the soldiers and other military personnel who occupied rooms here, which didn’t match the amount of money they earned from tourists, at times left them a bit short of cash.

Joanne gave Megan a quick cuddle, aware that she hadn’t found it easy being an evacuee with no mother present to comfort her, and having been constantly moved around because of ill treatment they’d suffered at times. At least they’d been fortunate to happily live here in Blackpool these last three years. She watched with a smile as her sister stamped off upstairs, knowing that she was not required to do any work, being far too young. She’d no doubt happily go and read or draw, as she so loved to do. Joanne didn’t at all mind working for these lovely ladies, really quite enjoying it, but she felt that their lives were in complete turmoil. What on earth would happen to them now?

The next morning, having suffered a sleepless night quietly weeping over her loss, Joanne anxiously worried that Teddy might never write and arrange for her to join him. She felt herself engaged in a world she no longer wished to be a part of. Not that life throughout the war had been at all easy, with bombs falling and sirens screaming and wailing. Now, wiping the tears from her eyes, she got out of bed and found that she’d tossed that new blue dress she’d bought for the special VE Day celebration onto the floor the previous evening. She gazed in dismay at the creased fabric, parts of it torn and marked with brown stains, perhaps because Teddy had pushed her down on the wet sand under the pier. What exactly had he done to her? A part of her shook with fear; not at all clear about that. Could her life be ruined as well as this frock?

‘What’s troubling you, sis? I heard you crying last night. Do tell me what’s wrong,’ Megan whispered, looking deeply distressed.

‘I’ve just damaged my new frock,’ Joanne remarked, not wishing to discuss the truth of her distress. She’d never spoken about her feelings for Teddy, preferring to keep their relationship private.

‘Oh no, what a nuisance and we had such a fun time yesterday.’

How dare she deny that? Panic pulsated through her, making Joanne feel badly in need of Megan’s comfort. Should she tell her more or keep what happened a secret? All possibility of making that decision vanished when Aunt Annie politely opened the door to ask Joanne if she would please start serving breakfast to their guests.

‘Of course,’ she said. After quickly dressing, she tossed the dress aside and dashed off downstairs to take part in her usual morning chores.

Later that afternoon, Annie handed the dress back to her, suitably repaired. ‘Megan told me of your problem. You looked such a pretty girl wearing this frock yesterday, I’ve cleaned and mended it for you, dear.’

‘Oh, thank you, Aunt Annie,’ Joanne said. ‘What a wonderfully kind and helpful lady you are.’ Tears spurted and ran down her cheeks, making her feel desolate and low. She feared that her heart could break having lost the man she loved. He’d told her how pretty she was, making no mention of what he felt for her, something she hadn’t noticed at the time. ‘I do so appreciate your care for us, particularly having lost our mam. Heaven knows whether she’s still alive, let alone any other members of our family. Being unable to find our parents, I do feel in a state of bewilderment, wondering where we could possibly live, were we to return to Manchester.’

Annie put her arms around Joanne, giving her a pat and a hug. ‘Our local billeting officer knows where you are, therefore I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon, lovey.’

How could that happen when their mother had no idea in which town her daughters were now living? Nor had they any idea where she was living either. If they ever did hear from her, Joanne wondered if Megan would be at all interested in going back home? And would she personally find the courage to tell her mam she’d fallen in love with a GI and how she ached to go to America to join him, rather than go home to Manchester? In addition to finding their mam and dad, would she ever find Danny, their brother, whom Joanne believed no longer lived with the farmer who first took him in. Receiving no response from him either when she’d written to say where they’d been moved to, following their departure from that area in Keswick, Joanne wondered whether he’d been sent some place else. What a muddle their lives were in. Where and when would their family ever meet up?

Danny was involved in taking a hike with a small group of friends around Derwentwater, a crystal glass lake. Not a breath of wind stirred in the heat of the day. How he loved this beautiful area of Keswick and the magical panoply of fold upon fold of mountains in a landscape that seemed to stretch into infinity. The ribbon of this dusty track linking the skeins of drystone walls could lure him to venture onward and upward into the unknown, were he free to roam. Far away in the distance were the hills of Scotland and the Solway Firth. Here, as they walked on through a copse of tall trees, he admired the awesome sight of Blencathra, a proud, benevolent mountain.

Many travellers, as well as themselves as youngsters, were urged into climbing these beautiful peaks to celebrate their fitness, including Grisedale Pike, Helvellyn, the highest giant, and the mysterious Castlerigg Stone Circle. The presence of these brooding mountains always enthralled him even when they were loaded with snow, or wet grey clouds. The mountains often appeared sullen but today were filled with a benign merriness of sunny beauty. How happy it made him feel despite often having heard the sound of bombing over by the coast.

The war had started well for him, living and working on that friendly farm close to Blencathra until Willie Mullins had messed things up for him. He now worked part-time for a farmer close to the camp and still enjoyed walking if not climbing, having suffered an attack by Mullins. Thankfully, that selfish lad was too lazy to be interested in joining them today so he was free of yet more pestering. A part of Danny felt he’d like to stay out here in the countryside for ever, while another part of him ached to return to his parents in Manchester.

It was when they returned to camp that he was called to the camp leader’s office, shocked to hear himself accused yet again of stealing fruit and veg from a local farmer. Horrified, he loudly protested. ‘It weren’t me, sir. I never steal nowt. I’m innocent, having happily worked for this farmer for some time. Why would I pinch owt off him and risk losing my part-time job? It were more likely Willie Mullins what stole it. He allus puts the blame on me, as he so likes to do for owt he pinches.’

The camp leader glared at him, sour-faced and disbelieving. ‘What proof do I have of that? I found a box of food close to your bed and Willie confirmed that you’d committed that theft, always complaining you were short of food. That young lad was also marked with bruises, admitting that when he’d challenged you about this crime you’d started a fight.’

‘That’s a lie!’ Danny snapped. ‘He must have hidden it there. I certainly didn’t. We had a fight when he tried to drop me off the cliff we were climbing. He’s the one who eats too much and steals things, not me. I’m not a bloody thief.’

The leader gave a snort of disbelief. ‘I do not approve of bad language or arguments, lad. I appreciate you two do not get on terribly well. No doubt you fight him in order to keep him silent, as you’ve no desire to be charged with this theft. Fortunately, I have no wish to call the police, which would damage our reputation even worse than yours. You must simply apologize to that farmer and politely return this fruit and veg.’

‘I’ll not apologize for summat I didn’t do.’

‘Then you will suffer a suitable punishment,’ he sternly remarked.

To his utter dismay, Danny then found himself locked in the coal cellar below the leader’s office, a stark and dreadful place. Close by the room in which he was confined, he could hear the barking of a bad-tempered bull terrier who lived chained to the wall. In the past Willie would constantly insist that he must be the one to come down here to collect the coal needed for the huts, which Danny had always found pretty scary. That dog would growl and attempt to pounce or bite him, unless he possessed a scrap of food to divert its attention. Now he had nothing to offer and could but pray he’d be kept clear of that dog and be freed soon.

He lay on a cold bed with one blanket for the rest of that day and night, his mind dreaming of his mother, father and sisters. Joanne and Megan had lived quite close to him for a while but then had been moved on, where to or why he’d no idea, never having received a letter from them since he too had been moved. At times he felt very lonely and worried about ever finding them. He did receive the occasional letter from his mother and sometimes a parcel of comics as if he was still a young boy, which he nevertheless quite enjoyed, The Beano and The Dandy being his favourites. There’d not been any word from his father, or any mention of him at all from his mam. How he missed his family.

It was the following morning, when Danny was finally released and provided with a most welcome scrambled egg breakfast, that the camp leader came trotting over to hand him a letter, a smirk of a grin on his face. ‘Good news, laddie. Be aware that once the war in Japan is over, permission will be granted by the Government for you to be taken home to Manchester by train. Willie here, your old classmate, will go too. So make sure you improve your friendship, laddies. Not that I’ll miss either of you when that time comes,’ he said with a chuckle. He patted each of them on the back and walked away to leave them sitting scowling at each other.

This news gave Danny hope he’d be back with his family soon, once this war had finally ended. Or did he wish to stay here in this beautiful countryside? Not right now. He’d completely gone off that idea.

Chapter Four

In the weeks following, Jubilee House became less packed than it used to be. Many of the civil servants, military personnel and refugees had left, some finding jobs or transport to take them back home thanks to the local authorities. Still not having received any letter from Teddy, Joanne badly regretted not being invited to join him in America. He was so far away she sorely missed him, all hope of a future together rapidly fading. She was no longer convinced that he loved her. Perhaps he just enjoyed having sex with women, including that one hanging on to his elbow, so maybe he’d assumed he could have it with her too. Not at all certain what he’d done to her and whether he’d succeeded in seducing her, being fairly innocent on such matters, Joanne deeply worried that she might have a serious problem as a result. It really didn’t bear thinking about.

Gazing through the breakfast-room window as she cleared the tables, puffs of bright clouds bounced over the sea that shivered with white waves, looking beautiful as always. How it reminded her of the time she’d spent walking on the beach with Teddy, constantly kissed and fondled by him. Oh, and her love for that GI was so strong she still ached for him to write and offer to marry her. That would resolve this possible problem she had and make her future so much happier.

‘We’ve still not received any letter from our mother,’ Megan whispered, as she came to help with the washing-up. ‘So can we stay here?’

‘I’ve been struggling to decide that too. We need to think what we should do with our lives now this war is over. Once we’ve finished our morning jobs we’ll take a cycle ride to Stanley Park then enjoy a walk around, since it’s a Saturday and you’re not at school today.’

‘That would be lovely, sis. It ain’t gonna be an easy decision to make.’

‘Don’t worry, we’ll talk things through, love.’

Breakfast being over, Joanne spent the next hour clearing and collecting cups and dirty plates, bustling back and forth, the two landladies upstairs busily dealing with bedrooms and bathrooms. The small dining room now empty, she gave that a clean too and set the tables in preparation for dinner. Once that was done, she went upstairs to tell Megan she was ready to go and they put on their cardigans and strong shoes then went to fetch their bicycles from the shed in the backyard.

‘We’ll cycle along Chapel Street then Hornby Road to the gateway to the park. I’ll just check the tyres.’

While pumping them up, she saw Bernie, the landladies’ nephew, hovering by the kitchen door. Having only just turned eighteen, he’d thankfully been too young to be called up during the war, but had worked with the local Home Guard. They’d become reasonably good friends over the years but he was a bit boring in Joanne’s opinion, very much a gawky boy with a spotty complexion. Admittedly, his square face was now much smoother, with thick brown hair flopping over his brow, if still a little scrawny in build. There was a neat smartness about the clothes he wore now. They could be quite appealing and at times his grey eyes would hold a hint of shrewdness in their depth. But he was not exactly fun, exciting or good at jokes. Just quiet and conventional with strong ties to his aunts and the work he did for them, often helping with the cooking and various other tasks. Joanne had felt obliged to dance with him after Teddy had disappeared that day. Not something she had any wish to do again, never having viewed him as a possible love of her life. With a start, she realized he had caught her staring at him. Filled with embarrassment, she quickly turned away but not before she had noted how his expression looked most doting, which struck her as extremely odd.

‘If you’re off on a cycle ride, can I come with you?’ he asked politely.

After giving Bernie an indifferent smile, Joanne pointed out they were going off to have a private conversation.

‘You aren’t planning to leave us like these refugees and other guests, are you?’ he said, looking dismayed at such a prospect.

‘It’s difficult to decide what we should do so we need to talk it through. Speak to you later, Bernie.’

He watched them ride away with a gloomy expression on his face.

Stanley Park was filled with a fine mist, swirling about like a bolt of gossamer silk. Not that this blocked the sound of aircraft landing in the aerodrome just beyond what had once been the bowling pitch. After locking up their bikes close to the café, the two girls set off to walk round the lake in order to escape the noise. The cool wind gathered momentum and turned into a dampening shower, the sting of rain on Joanne’s face making her feel this dreadful weather was adding to her sense of agony. Would she ever recover?

The time she’d spent with Teddy had once seemed so sweet and filled with hope. Now all that had vanished since he still hadn’t written to her. Being young and having behaved most foolishly in trusting him, Joanne thought she might never trust any man ever again, let alone find the happiness she longed for. She felt miserable and sluggish, constantly rushing to the bathroom fearing she could be sick. Fortunately, that hadn’t happened so far, but she had very little appetite and was rapidly losing weight. Each night in bed she would quietly weep from the sadness of her lost love and her parents, which made her feel completely torn apart. Sensing that her heart could break, tears again spurted in her eyes and ran between her fingers as she attempted to wipe them away. Looking shocked, Megan quickly led her to sit on a bench.

‘What’s wrong, why are you crying again, sis? What is it that’s worrying you?’

When her tears were spent Joanne sat for a moment in silence, feeling rather like a small mouse caught up in the rumble of sound from the aerodrome as they sat beneath this ash tree. It was then that she saw a squirrel emerge from a branch above her, its small sleek body glinting as it nibbled insects when the rain stopped and there came a bright glimmer of sun, no nuts anywhere around. It scampered down and dashed off to nearby fields, scavenging for fruit and vegetables, rather like a greedy thief stealing what didn’t rightly belong to him. They both burst into laughter. Thankfully she wasn’t a mouse or a squirrel, although possibly a foolish young girl. Taking a deep breath, Joanne finally confided in her sister the misery she felt in losing her American boyfriend, carefully making no mention of what he did to her.

‘Ah, I thought that might be why you weren’t looking good or eating well and keep weeping each night in bed,’ Megan responded fondly. ‘Do try to cheer up, lovey. Mebbe that GI will write to you one day.’

‘Oh, I do hope he does, once he’s settled in back home and found himself some employment. It could take a while for him to go through the necessary process he mentioned.’ A long delay was proving to be a strong element of concern, in fact something of a panic, not having had a period this month. If Teddy truly did love her and was doing his best to arrange for her to join him, he would surely write or maybe come looking for her one day, which would probably be here in Blackpool. Another good reason for them to stay on here. Her life then would be so much happier. Right now it could go completely wrong and Joanne had no wish to speak of this problem to her sister. ‘I must learn to be patient and cheer up,’ she said with a smile.

Giving her another warm hug, Megan went on to speak of her personal delight at being offered a place at a local high school, come September, and her wish to attend. ‘To be honest, I’ve no desire to leave our lovely aunts or lose the offer from that school. Would you be willing to give up this job and return home? I do hope not,’ she stoutly declared. ‘I desperately want to stay here, being the only place I’ve enjoyed throughout the war.’

A flicker of sadness and sympathy washed over Joanne. At the start of the war, Megan had been petite and shy, rather awkward and unsure of herself, feeling far too young to cope with the trauma of evacuation. Now she was a comely girl with a round, pretty face and a dimpled smile. Really quite bright so did deserve to attend that high school. And it was perfectly understandable that she was happy living with these landladies, feeling very much cared for. Things had been so different for them in the past.

When they’d first been evacuated out to a bleak part of Keswick back in 1939, they were made to stand and wait at the railway station whilst the local people decided whom they were prepared to offer accommodation to. Being working class and a bit scruffy looking after that long journey, they were the last to be chosen. Her brother Danny, aged only eight at the time, had been selected by a farmer while she and Megan were chosen by another farming couple. Joanne had protested, claiming that being siblings they should stay together, but the billeting officer had ordered her to keep quiet. Having no idea where her brother was sent, she’d written to her mother, hoping Evie could discover that, which she did.

Joanne and Megan had hated the farm they were originally taken to, being treated like slaves and required to work hard on the land. If they didn’t do as they were told they’d be deprived of the poor food they were granted only twice a day. They’d felt constantly hungry, often being given only bread and dripping for their evening meal. Nor were they ever allowed into the house. They had to sleep in a barn, sharing a small makeshift bed on the dirt floor with no heat or light save for a single candle. There was no toilet or bathroom available, just a potty, which they had to empty every morning. Each day they would rise early and have to walk miles to school, no lift by horse or cart ever offered them. When it was bitterly cold weather they’d frequently fall ill with colds, their hands chilblained. Joanne came to believe they’d been accepted as evacuees simply to provide those greedy people with money paid by the Government, as well as the work they required them to do.

‘Do you remember the problems and anguish we suffered at that first place we were billeted?’ Joanne asked.

‘Only vaguely,’ Megan admitted.

‘Well, each month Mam would send us comics and parcels of food, and a warm scarf or jumper she’d knitted for us. I was always excited to see a parcel arrive then felt utterly furious when that couple handed it over to their own children, never to us. I frequently wrote home to explain this horror to Mam, then realized my letters were withheld by that farmer’s wife, which was why I never received a reply. I did finally manage to send her a letter, thanks to our local teacher who gave me an envelope and stamp and posted it for me in town. I told Mam that if we weren’t moved somewhere better, we’d run away.’

Megan gave a frown. ‘I do remember your excitement when you saw Mother standing outside in the yard one day. I found that amazing.’

‘I was filled with joy,’ Joanne said with a loving smile. ‘I dashed straight over; realizing Mam had come to rescue us. I threw our clothes into a suitcase within minutes. She was, of course, engaged in a furious row with our so-called foster parents and then marched us off.’

‘She walked us for miles to find a bus and a train. We then went home but didn’t stay long as we were soon evacuated again,’ Megan said, pulling her face in a glower of disapproval at how their mother had sent them back to Keswick and what happened as a result. Something her beloved sister had no wish to speak of or remember. ‘I agree we’ve been through an absolute nightmare and never seen her since. Thankfully these two kind landladies, Aunt Annie and Aunt Sadie, took us in when we were brought here to Blackpool, and are most kind and welcoming.’

‘They are indeed.’ On certain occasions, whenever she’d felt herself or Megan were badly treated, Joanne had gone to see the local billeting officer and insisted they should be moved. Eventually they’d been billeted here in Blackpool, which had proved to be a good thing. ‘I suspect they gladly took us in because they aren’t married and have no children of their own, just Bernie, their adopted nephew. However, you need to be aware that these landladies may no longer wish us to continue living with them, occasionally mentioning a wish to retire.’

‘Oh, surely that won’t happen.’

‘We should bear in mind that it might.’

They went on to talk at some length, worrying over where they could go and live if that occurred, having no conviction they would ever find their mother. Joanne still missed her badly and felt in need of her support. Making a decision about whether or not they should leave was not proving to be at all easy. And brooding about her own problem would do no good either.

Joanne gave a sad little sigh. ‘The question is, will the billeting officer send us back to Manchester now the war is over? Will he find where Mam is living, assuming she’s still alive, or put us in a state children’s home? Not a prospect I wish to consider. I’ll make some enquiries and see if I can find out where she is. If not, I could pay a visit to Manchester and search for her by calling on various friends who may have an idea where she’s now living or working.’