TROUBLE COMES TO HARBOUR HOUSE

  FENELLA J. MILLER

  This book is for my son, daughter-in-law, grandson, brother and sister-in-law, niece and nephew, great-niece and -nephew plus my adopted niece and great-nieces. I’m so lucky to be surrounded by such loving, wonderful, caring people.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Bibliography

  Author’s Note

  Thank you!

  More from Fenella J. Miller

  About the Author

  Also by Fenella J. Miller

  Sixpence Stories

  About Boldwood Books

  1

  WIVENHOE, DECEMBER 1940

  Emily Roby was staring morosely out of the sitting-room window at the freezing rain, trying to summon up enthusiasm for the end of term and approaching Christmas. This would be the first one for baby Grace, her little sister who was now nine months old, and the family was determined to make it memorable if they could.

  There was little in the way of gifts, decorations, or anything exciting to eat in the shops because of rationing and all the bombs being dropped everywhere, but Lily Turner, their cook–housekeeper, had promised there’d be some edible treats to look forward to.

  ‘Emily, just pop over to the shop, there’s a sweetheart, and buy me some chocolate if they have any.’ Cousin Lucinda lounged in front of the fire reading an expensive magazine.

  ‘I’m not going out in the rain, and anyway you won’t have enough points for any sweets.’ This wasn’t exactly polite but Lucinda’s behaviour and selfishness had made her thoroughly disliked by everyone in the house. Even the cat hissed at this unwanted guest.

  When Emily had first met her cousin a few weeks ago she’d liked Lucinda, had got on well with her. However, when they’d got home she’d realised this new arrival had brought trouble to Harbour House.

  She was tall, elegant, really pretty with glorious golden hair, but had proved to be spoilt and selfish and had upset everyone including the boys.

  ‘Rude child. If you’re not going to do that then go and make me a coffee.’

  Emily turned. ‘I’m not making you anything, you’ve got legs of your own so why don’t you use them? Anyway, the only coffee in the house isn’t for you, it’s for my parents.’

  Emily wished this cousin hadn’t come to stay, Grandma and Grandpa had been so much nicer. Lucinda had been with them since October and so far had done nothing but upset everyone. When Emily had complained to Mummy she’d been told to be more sympathetic, that Lucinda was hiding a broken heart and needed compassion, not criticism.

  As far as she was concerned, someone had to earn compassion and respect and Lucinda was grown up and should have known better. Mummy’s cousin had outstayed her welcome. The boys thought her stuck up and lazy as she didn’t help at all and expected everyone to wait on her. Daddy was at work most of the time at the shipyard and didn’t seem to mind that this cuckoo had fallen into the nest. Harbour House had been a lovely place to live even when her grandparents had been there, even when Grandpa had been a bit confused. Now, just because of Lucinda, everyone was on edge.

  Emily left the room and closed the door loudly behind her. Despite the rain, Mummy had taken Grace out in the pram to either a WI or a WVS meeting. Her brother, George, must’ve heard the door bang as he appeared at the top of the stairs.

  ‘Blimey, we can’t even sit in our own sitting room without being tormented by that fiend. We thought we’d start making some decorations and Christmas cards. Lily said we can use the dining room as long as we put newspaper down on top of the tablecloth.’

  ‘Perfect, we can be quite certain Lucinda won’t want to join in so we’ll not be bothered.’

  Sammy, her other brother, peered over the banisters. ‘It’s blooming freezing in the dining room – do you think we could light the fire if all three of us are in there?’

  ‘I’m not going to ask for permission,’ Emily said firmly. ‘The sitting room’s enemy territory and we need a base for ourselves.’

  Half an hour later, the dining room wasn’t exactly warm, but it was bearable. They’d brought down the box of treasured bits and pieces from the attic and were ready to start making their decorations. There was absolutely nothing new to buy this year and Daddy had told them if they wanted to make the house festive, they would have to use what they already had.

  ‘I’m going to make the flour and water paste,’ Sammy said. ‘How much do you think we need?’

  ‘Well, we’ve already cut up two hundred coloured paper strips to stick together to make a long paper chain. Is there much more we can use in that box, Sammy?’

  ‘I reckon we can make another four hundred strips if we don’t intend to make anything else.’

  ‘Okay, I know how much to do now. I won’t be long.’

  George pulled a face. ‘Mummy has had Lily ironing last year’s wrapping paper. I think we’re lucky to have the bits we’ve got. I heard them talking the other night and we won’t be getting much this Christmas, I doubt we’ll even get a stocking. There won’t even be any oranges to put at the toe as the government think oranges are non-essential.’

  ‘Don’t grumble, there’s a war on. We’re lucky, thousands and thousands of people all over the country have been bombed out and will be facing Christmas with absolutely nothing,’ Emily said.

  This could well develop into one of their regular rows – she and George often argued over the silliest things whereas she and Sammy never had a cross word to say to each other.

  Sammy returned with the bowl of flour and water paste. ‘I know how we can make Grace a gift, do you want to hear what it is or are you two going to fight?’

  George grinned and she smiled.

  ‘Go on then, she’s the one who needs to have at least one decent present as this is her first Christmas ever,’ George said.

  ‘We need some small stones, a national dried milk tin and some string.’

  Emily almost clapped her hands but she was too grown up to do that now. ‘I know what you’re getting at. You’re forgetting that we’ll need some paint as well and some sticky tape.’

  George was looking mystified. ‘What are you two going on about?’

  Sammy beamed and Emily left him to explain. ‘You wash the stones and the tin, then put the stones inside and seal the lid on. Then you paint it all a nice colour and put string round it and add a handle. Then a baby can shake it, roll it or pull it along the floor. I know where there’s an empty milk tin, I’ll ask Lily if we can have it,’ Sammy said and rushed off.

  ‘Mr Turner’s got most of the men making little wooden animals, blocks and other toys from the scraps they’re allowed to keep from the shipyard. Lily said that he’s already made a cat, a dog and a cow for Grace as well as two dozen square blocks.’ Emily had thought this was a lovely idea but then Lily and her husband were lovely people.

  ‘That’s spiffing,’ George said. ‘Grace will be spoilt for choice when it comes to toys. We don’t believe in Father Christmas but we want her to.’

  ‘Lily said there’ll be enough wooden toys for every child in Wivenhoe to at least have two or three things. Isn’t that marvellous?’

  What she didn’t tell him was that Mr Turner had made George a wooden Spitfire and Sammy a wooden Hurricane. They would be overjoyed when they saw those on Christmas morning.

  By lunchtime, the paper chains were complete and draped over every available surface to dry. They’d each made a dried milk tin into a toy for a baby but hadn’t had enough paint to do more than one. Mummy had returned and suggested that they cut up the remaining scraps of paper and stuck them all over the tins and then covered them with the flour and water paste.

  ‘Won’t they be all sticky, Mummy?’ Sammy asked.

  ‘No, the glue dries clear and hard. Like magic really. I’m very impressed with what the three of you have managed to achieve this afternoon. I know Grace will really enjoy playing with one of them. What are you going to do with the others?’

  ‘Lily’s offered to get them added to the toys that are being collected somewhere or other in the village. Mummy, we’ve talked about this, and we really don’t need any gifts this year. As long as Grace gets something then that’s all that matters.’

  Usually, Emily got together with her best friends Penny and Doris who lived in Rowhedge, just a short ferry ride across the River Colne. The horrible weather this weekend had meant she wouldn’t see her friends – obviously she’d see Penny at school but not Doris, who went to a different one.

  The girls who’d been evacuated from her school were returning before the end of term. The governors of the school had decided that Colchester was perfectly safe after all. This would mean the classes would probably go back to how they were and her best friend Penny wouldn’t be in her form any more. This hadn’t been confirmed officially but that was what everyone was saying.


/>   This wouldn’t be so bad if things weren’t difficult at home. She’d ask Daddy when the unwanted and difficult guest was going to leave Harbour House – it would be tricky to ask her mother as Lucinda was her cousin and Emily’s sort of aunt – who she’d never met – had asked if this arrangement could continue until things had been smoothed over in London.

  Emily wasn’t exactly sure what this meant but having Lucinda Somiton staying was going to mean trouble at Harbour House.

  Lucinda heard her cousin Elizabeth return with the baby and decided she’d better make an effort to be sociable, offer to help, pretend that she was enjoying being incarcerated in this dreadful little village in the middle of nowhere.

  She’d been having such a super time in London when things had gone catastrophically wrong for her. After being trapped in a stuffy boarding school all her life, Pa had promised if she did well in her higher certificate then he’d fund a few months in Town. There was an apartment in Knightsbridge which an ancient relative had gifted to her and she had happily moved in.

  Whilst in London, Lucinda had fallen in love with a man called Ralph, who’d told her repeatedly that he loved her, and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But, to her horror, Ralph had turned out to be married and his wife had discovered the affair and raised the most awful stink. Ralph was something very important in the War Office so before scandal overwhelmed his family and hers, she’d been parcelled off to Wivenhoe where she was to remain indefinitely. Heartbreak was proving to be more difficult than she’d ever imagined.

  She’d lived here for almost a month now and was certain that if she found something or someone to become involved with then she wouldn’t be so unpleasant to everybody. But there were no eligible young men within miles – no dashing RAF pilots to flirt with. Even an army officer would be acceptable in the circumstances. Anything to dull the pain of losing Ralph.

  The door to the sitting room was already open when Elizabeth eventually turned up. Lucinda had heard her going upstairs with the baby – she knew nothing about babies but thought Grace was probably going for a late-afternoon nap.

  ‘I’ve got news for you, Lucinda, but I doubt that you’re going to be pleased with it,’ Elizabeth said.

  Surely her cousin wasn’t going to evict her, not so soon before Christmas. Her parents wanted nothing to do with her after what had happened with Ralph and she knew she was fortunate that Elizabeth had agreed to take her in. She’d be homeless and penniless – as her generous allowance had been halted as well – and it would be entirely her own fault for being such an appalling houseguest over the past few weeks.

  At least her father couldn’t take away the inheritance from her grandparents. If she married before she was twenty-one then her trust fund would be released or, if she didn’t, it would be hers when she was twenty-five. Her brother and sister, already adults when she was born, had also been left a substantial amount in trust. Her father had told her if she hadn’t been born then the money would have been divided between her older siblings. This might well be why they so disliked her. Somehow, she had to find a way to support herself until she was a woman of substantial means again.

  ‘From your expression, cousin, I’m assuming it’s bad news for me and good news for you.’

  ‘When I agreed to take you in I assumed it would be for a few weeks, that you would be a happy and helpful member of our family. The reverse has been true. I’m sorry, but you will have to make alternative living arrangements.’

  Lucinda was shocked. She’d nowhere to go. Somehow she must persuade Elizabeth to give her a second chance, allow her to make amends, to be the sort of guest she knew she could be.

  ‘I know you can’t wait to send me away but although I might not seem to be appreciative, I really am. Please allow me to make up for my bad manners.’

  ‘Hmm. If that’s the case, Lucinda, then if you genuinely do wish to live with us you must make an effort to fit in.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ll really do better if you let me stay.’

  Elizabeth smiled. ‘Good girl, I’m sure that underneath the bad-tempered selfish person you appear to be there’s someone lovely hiding.’

  Lucinda was finding this conversation difficult as even though she knew she was entirely in the wrong, hearing it put so bluntly made her even more miserable than she already was. Somehow, she pinned on a smile and changed the subject.

  ‘Cousin Elizabeth, now we’ve got that out of the way, what is it you have to tell me?’

  ‘I think you’d better sit down. This is going to be a shock and possibly not a pleasant one.’

  ‘Has someone died?’ Lucinda’s hands clenched and a sick feeling settled in her stomach whilst she waited for the answer.

  ‘No, absolutely not. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. You’ve gone quite pale, my dear, shall I get you a glass of water?’

  Lucinda shook her head. ‘No, if nobody has died then whatever you’ve got to tell me must be a huge improvement on what I feared.’

  ‘Someone at the WVS meeting told us that there’s about to be an official announcement from the War Office very soon saying that all young women between twenty and thirty are going to be conscripted.’

  ‘When is this going to be enforced?’

  ‘Not until the end of next year, but I thought you needed to know so you can decide for yourself where you want to go and not be sent where the War Office decides you should be.’

  ‘I’m not twenty until February, but I want to do something useful before next December.’

  ‘You will be doing something useful, you’re going to be helping me,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘I certainly am, but that isn’t helping the war. I feel I should be making more of an effort.’

  She frowned as she thought of what the choices she faced could be. ‘I really don’t want to join the army, khaki is a most unflattering colour. I get seasick in a rowing boat so the WRNS won’t do which, I suppose, only leaves the WAAF.’ She smiled and Elizabeth laughed.

  ‘I don’t think either reason is good enough to rule the WRNS or ATS out.’

  ‘I’d like to do something that uses my intellect, I’m not sure being in the women’s army would do that.’

  ‘You’re forgetting about the land army, Lucinda, but I think that would also be a waste of your intelligence. You matriculated with distinction in the summer – maybe the War Office could find you something more interesting than joining one of the services.’

  ‘I have no language skills, apart from basic French, so I don’t see how I could be of help in London.’

  Just then Emily and her brothers emerged from the dining room, laughing whilst carrying arms full of brightly coloured paper chains.

  ‘Can we put these up, Mummy? It is December and only two weeks more or less until Christmas,’ Emily asked.

  ‘I don’t see why not, but the tree shouldn’t go up until Christmas Eve. However, I think you need to ask your father before you start any hanging.’

  ‘We’ll put them in the boys’ room for now, there’s plenty of space under the window.’

  They hadn’t argued, they’d just wandered off chattering and enjoying each other’s company. How Lucinda envied them the easy camaraderie, the obvious love they shared. Lucinda’s parents had had her when they were much older and her siblings were adults and had left home before she was born. Ma and Pa had done their best but, being such older parents, had found her more a nuisance than a pleasure, which was why she’d spent most of her life away at school.

  ‘Now, where were we? I think you can get the necessary documents by writing to the RAF as they handle the applications. But I’d suggest that you go up to London in person. I believe that the recruiting office is somewhere in Knightsbridge.’ Elizabeth smiled brightly. ‘As you lived in that district for a few months I’m sure you can find it.’