‘I’ll not let you down again, darling, knowing what I do about my health has changed me. From now on I’m going to live every day as if it’s my last, no more nonsense, I’ll be an exemplary husband and a loving father.’

  She looked up at him. ‘Do you love me?’

  ‘I’ve always loved you, Leone, you’re my wife. I’m a man and I have needs that you weren’t prepared to meet after our second daughter was born. I’m not proud of being unfaithful, but I never loved anyone but you, whatever I might have said in the heat of the moment.’

  His false sincerity convinced her. ‘Then, yes, I’d love to have another baby. Are you sure that doing something so energetic won’t trigger a fatal event?’

  ‘Absolutely certain, my love, I explained the circumstances to the doctor and he reassured me. In fact, he advised me to live my life as usual, put this dire news aside, and try and forget about it.’

  ‘I am in the middle of my cycle. You’ve returned at the perfect time if we wish to start another baby.’

  He knew she wasn’t suggesting they tumbled into bed right now but he pretended he’d misunderstood. He swept her up into his arms and strode to the door.

  ‘I love you, my darling Leone, and intend to show you just how much.’

  Making love to his wife wasn’t as exciting as making love to Lucinda but he was sure he did what was necessary and Leone certainly didn’t complain about his efforts.

  He remained by her side for half an hour talking nonsense as that’s what she expected.

  ‘It’s going to be the most wonderful Christmas, Ralph, the girls will be so excited to have their father here. I promised that we could decorate the drawing room this afternoon and do the tree tomorrow.’

  He hid his irritation as the last thing he wanted was to be involved in anything as mundane as decorating the tree or, even worse, the house with hideous paper chains and other gaudy items.

  ‘That’s why I came home today. I want us to be a happy family again. I thought as there are no toys to speak of available even in Harrods that we could find something in the old nursery. I’m sure our girls won’t mind if anything we find is old, especially if we tell them it had once belonged to their grandmother.’

  ‘I’ve managed to acquire a few small things to go in their stockings but your suggestion is quite brilliant. I can’t wait to explore with you – we can do it after the children go to bed and before we dine.’

  Lucinda explained to her cousin what had happened between her and Ralph. ‘I don’t know how I ever thought I loved him. Do you know, Elizabeth, he threatened me with some sort of repercussions for rejecting him?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He said he hoped I wouldn’t regret what I’d done, and it scared me. He comes from a powerful family, remember I told you that his brother is Sir Hugh Castleton, and Ralph’s something important in intelligence.’

  ‘Oh dear, I think you’re right to be concerned. He could make things very difficult for you, possibly prevent you from getting an interview for the ATA.’

  This was hardly encouraging. Lucinda had hoped Elizabeth would reassure her, tell her that she was overreacting.

  ‘He doesn’t know that I’ve applied there, I told him I was hoping to get into the WAAF or the WRNS. Thank God, I never told him that I had a private pilot’s licence. Even then I must have sensed it was something he wouldn’t approve of; he wanted me to be submissive and feminine and flying an aeroplane is neither of those.’ She sat back, her stomach curdling, as things she should have noticed when they were together made sense. She’d been too innocent, besotted, to consider that Ralph’s behaviour wasn’t loving but controlling.

  ‘Clever girl, your instincts were right. By the time he realises he’s putting his energy into the wrong places you might already be part of that wonderful organisation. We can only hope so.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d be kind enough to tell Jonathan what happened, get his advice. When we go to church tomorrow then I’ll certainly be praying but probably not for the things I should be.’

  Lucinda tickled Grace under the chin before heading for the door. ‘Excuse me, I need to help in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure I heard the tramp of heavy boots outside just now so the shipyard workers are on the way home which means Jonathan will be here soon.’

  She joined the children and they greeted her with unusual enthusiasm.

  ‘Emily told us your exciting news about joining the ATA,’ George said. ‘Please will you tell us everything you know about what you might be doing if you get taken on?’

  They proceeded to bombard her with questions that she was happy to answer. Ten minutes later the back door banged, Jonathan was home. Everything stopped when the man of the house arrived, the children rushed to greet him, she heard Elizabeth and the baby coming down the passageway.

  This just reinforced Lucinda’s determination not to be married, not to be at the beck and call of a man and unable to make her own decisions. She smiled; unless she met someone as wonderful as Jonathan.

  12

  Lucinda took Jonathan’s advice and went into Colchester in order to collect application forms for both the Women’s Royal Navy Service and the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force, better known as the WRNS and the WAAF. These could be collected at the library. She went first to the Midland Bank in the High Street with the bank draft and the letter from Jonathan.

  A supercilious man dressed in a navy pinstripe suit accosted her as she walked in. ‘Do you have an appointment, miss?’

  Today Lucinda hadn’t made the mistake of dressing down and almost wished she still had her mink coat as that would really have impressed them.

  ‘I don’t, what I do have is a letter from my guardian and a bank draft for three thousand guineas. I wish to open an account.’

  His expression changed. ‘If you would care to take a seat, I’ll see who’s free to arrange this for you.’

  She could put the money in the Trustee Savings Bank, or into National Savings, but she needed a substantial sum in her post office account so she could withdraw or deposit from this without having to come into Colchester.

  Mentioning the huge amount of money she had to deposit had meant she suddenly became a desirable customer and not a nuisance to be fobbed off. What really annoyed her was that if she was married she’d be considered an adult but would still need her husband’s permission to do anything financial.

  A different, older, less smarmy, suited gentleman came over to her. ‘Mr Peabody should have asked your name. I am Mr Sargent.’

  ‘And I am pleased to meet you. Shall we go into your office?’

  If he was disconcerted by her evasion he didn’t show it. In fact, his eyes twinkled and he smiled. She was conducted to a plush office and he indicated a comfortable chair by the fire, not the upright one in front of his desk.

  ‘I’ve taken the liberty of assuming that you prefer coffee to tea, I also hope that you enjoy a freshly baked pastry.’

  ‘I do, Mr Sargent. When I tell you that my name’s Lucinda Somiton, does that mean something to you?’

  He sat opposite and his expression was serious. ‘I do recall seeing your name in the gossip columns a few weeks ago. However, that has nothing to do with your financial probity. I’ll be delighted to open an account for you.’

  The conversation was temporarily interrupted as a very young woman came in precariously balancing a tray on one arm. Lucinda was about to stand up and assist but Mr Sargent was on his feet first.

  ‘Mabel, let me take that from you before you drop it. Mr Peabody should have been there to open the door for you. I shall have words with him about his poor manners.’

  The girl grinned, nodded at Lucinda, and retreated. He put the laden tray on the coffee table in front of them.

  The pastries were delicious and freshly baked, the coffee hot and strong, and Mr Sargent was, she discovered, the actual bank manager.

  ‘Now, Miss Somiton, shall we get down to business? You have a very substantial amount of money. Do you have your own ideas about how to manage this or would you like me to give you some advice?’

  ‘Mr Roby, my guardian, and I have discussed this at length. I thought to put £1,000 into war bonds, keep £350 in my personal account, and I have other plans which I’ll explain to you later. Would you approve of that?’

  ‘I would have advised more or less the same. I assume that you have a post office book?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Then I’d suggest you have perhaps a hundred pounds in that so you can take out what you need on a day-to-day basis wherever you are. I’ll have the cash withdrawn from your account as soon as it is set up.’

  ‘Thank you, how long will the paperwork take to be organised? I have an errand to run which should take me about twenty minutes – will the paperwork be ready for my signature by then?’

  ‘Absolutely, Miss Somiton. Thank you for choosing my bank, I hope we have a long and satisfactory relationship.’

  Lucinda smiled, stood up and brushed the crumbs from her skirt. The bank manager held her coat whilst she slipped her arms into it and then escorted her to the door.

  ‘Mr Peabody will be waiting to bring you back to my office when you return.’ He smiled. ‘Take as long as you want, Miss Somiton, you are now a valued customer and we are at your disposal.’

  ‘There’s one more thing, Mr Sargent, I’d like to set up a trust fund for the four Roby children. I know you can’t do that today, but that’s what I wish to do with the remaining thousand pounds.’

  She handed him over the necessary information which she’d kept in her pocket. She hadn’t quite decided if she wanted to put everything with this bank but he’d proved to be someone trustworthy so the children’s money would be safe at the Midland.

  Lucinda was smiling as she walked out. What a difference having a large sum of money made to the way one was treated.

  As there was no rush to return to the bank after she’d collected the application forms, she decided to fill them in immediately. Once that was done, she posted them at the main post office, conveniently situated next to the town hall further up the High Street.

  A little over an hour after arriving in Colchester, Lucinda was on a bus back to Wivenhoe. The necessary forms had been signed and she had the cash to pay into her post office account safely in her handbag.

  The bus stop was outside the Greyhound pub, just a few yards from the post office so she’d deposit the cash when she got off. As she’d been walking around with a massive amount of money in a bank draft that anybody could have deposited if they’d stolen it, having a hundred pound in banknotes didn’t bother her at all.

  The post office, like every other shop, closed for lunch but she was there in ample time. She now had a satisfactory amount of change, a ten-shilling note and a pound note, more than enough for her day-to-day expenses.

  Mr Sargent said he would write to her when the trust fund had been arranged which was when he’d require her signature. Until she’d signed, she’d no intention of telling the family what she’d done in case they tried to stop her. The bank manager had promised the papers would be ready early in the New Year. This meant the announcement would have to wait until the family returned from Kent.

  The house was quiet – Jonathan would be at work, Elizabeth was probably at one of her endless women’s meetings, the children were in Rowhedge, but where was Lily? Normally at this time she’d be bustling around the kitchen ready to serve lunch to whoever was home to eat it.

  Lucinda removed her outer garments, hung them up, carefully put her boots into one of the boxes beneath the pegs, and stepped into her slippers. The housekeeper wasn’t downstairs, that was obvious, maybe she was upstairs tidying?

  ‘Lily, Lily, are you there? Is there anything I can do for lunch?’

  Her voice echoed down the empty passageway and got no response. Lunch was eaten just after midday, apart from on a Sunday, so there should be signs that this was ready even if the maker wasn’t around.

  There was a large saucepan of mixed vegetable soup simmering on the range, a tray of homemade rolls waiting to go in the oven, the dishes and cutlery ready to be taken into the dining room so Lily couldn’t be far away.

  She put the rolls in to bake and decided it made sense for the two of them and the baby to eat in the kitchen as it was warmer than the dining room. She was just laying the table when the back door banged and Lily rushed in.

  The soup spoon clattered on the table and she rushed over to Lily. ‘What’s wrong? I was worried when I arrived and you were missing.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I had to rush home as my neighbour came to tell me there was someone from the Ministry of Agriculture banging on my door. How on earth they knew about my chickens I don’t know.’

  ‘Goodness, are you in trouble?’

  ‘No, he wasn’t there to make a fuss but to get me signed up so I can get grain and so on for the chickens more easily. We can’t have the eggs that we’re allowed on the ration now I’ve got chickens, but I don’t have to sell any to them unless I’ve got a surplus.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that. It makes sense to encourage people to keep chickens as well as dig for victory – if you’re giving eggs to your neighbours and using them yourself then there are more for those who don’t have them.’

  ‘Thank you for laying the table in here,’ Lily said. ‘But you’ve put three places and it’s only two of you and the highchair.’

  ‘You eat with us when we’re in here, it’s only when we’re in the dining room you don’t join us.’

  Lucinda retired immediately after lunch, hoping to be able to sleep as she was going to be out all night patrolling the streets. There was a tap on the door far too soon and groggily she pushed herself onto her elbows and answered.

  ‘I’m coming, I’ll be down in a minute, thank you for waking me, whoever it is.’

  ‘It’s Emily, I just wanted to tell you that it’s snowing. I should put several layers on as it’s going to be perishing outside tonight. Our backsides froze to the seat on the ferry when we came back across the river an hour ago.’

  ‘My breath’s steaming in front of me in here. Maybe we’re going to have a white Christmas this year.’

  ‘It certainly seems like it. I have your tea waiting.’

  Jonathan was just coming in as Lucinda arrived in the kitchen. ‘I don’t envy you your patrol this evening, Lucinda, the snow’s heavier.’

  ‘I hope that means the Luftwaffe will stay in France and Belgium and not be bombing us tonight.’

  The boys were slurping down tea and munching broken biscuits – one would have thought they had hollow legs the amount of food they consumed without putting on an ounce. Their cooked meal was after the baby went to bed but they couldn’t survive, according to them, until six o’clock without something to fill the gap.

  ‘The bombers and the fighters can’t fly if it’s below freezing because the wings ice up,’ George said.

  ‘Anyway, they won’t be able to see anything through the snow, it’s a blizzard out there now,’ Sammy added.

  ‘Does that mean I don’t have to do my patrol?’

  ‘Why don’t you pop round to Mr Hatch and ask him?’ Lily suggested as she bustled around the kitchen, putting the final touches to the evening meal before she left.

  ‘I’ll do that, good idea, thank you. Elizabeth, why don’t we abandon the dining room until the weather improves and eat in here?’

  ‘I was about to suggest the same thing, my dear, we did that last winter too. Christmas Day we’ll light the fire and dress the table. Now we’ve got a lovely plump cockerel from Lily and Mr Turner for lunch it’s going to be a splendid meal.’

  Lucinda skidded on the ice as she approached Mr Hatch’s front door and instead of knocking politely she crashed headfirst into it. Moments later, Mrs Hatch opened it.

  ‘Goodness me, Miss Somiton, we thought the Nazis had come. Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, it’s lethal out there. Could I have a quick word with Mr Hatch?’

  ‘If you’re going to ask him whether you should patrol tonight, he said to tell you if you came round that you don’t have to. No bombers on a night like this.’

  ‘That’s the best news I’ve had all day. Thank you, I wasn’t looking forward to spending the night out in this snowstorm. There’s already a couple of inches underfoot and it’s now covering the ice from yesterday.’

  ‘I reckon no one will be out, only three more days until Christmas so let’s hope the blooming Germans stay at home until the New Year and give the poor souls in London and other cities time to enjoy our Lord’s birthday.’ Mrs Hatch spoke in a rush with not even a pause for breath.

  ‘Amen to that. Good night, Mrs Hatch. Be very careful when you come out tomorrow, it’s going to be even worse than it is now.’

  Lucinda skidded and slid home, unsurprised that there were no other pedestrians about in the freezing darkness. It was a miracle she didn’t end up on her derrière as it almost happened twice.

  The welcome warmth of the boot room greeted her as she stepped in through the back door of Harbour House. She paused for a few minutes, inhaling the familiar aroma, understanding that for the first time in her life she had a home, was living with people who loved her, wanted her to be there.

  If Mrs Castleton hadn’t contacted the gossip columnists, then Lucinda wouldn’t be here. That woman had done her a huge favour and if she ever met Mrs Castleton then instead of being angry, she’d thank her.

  Emily and her brothers had helped Penny and the twins decorate their ramshackle house. It had taken all day, the twins were covered in flour and water paste by the end of it, but the tree and the sitting room, as well as the entrance hall and passageway, were now festooned with paper chains and bits and bobs and looked really festive.

  Mummy was putting Grace to bed, Lucinda had just got back from seeing Mr Hatch and discovering that she didn’t have to patrol tonight, and the boys were putting the finishing touch to the kitchen table so they could eat.