Merry Christmas, and sorry for any historical inaccuracies.
...
John glanced down at the scruffy scrap of paper in his hands, then looked back up at the cottage in front of him. Was this the right address? It seemed to be.
The cottage in front of him was picturesque, with ivy and roses scaling the walls, and the grass cut short and neat. It was beautiful, and completely different to what he'd expected to find.
He'd received Nancy's letter a year ago, all the normal news, family, jobs, the horrors of war on the home front. And then, at the end, a quick note to explain that she'd moved. A small cottage had come up for sale in the lakes, and she'd gone ahead and bought it. She was sure he'd understand. He had. With the chaos of war and the problems of raising a child and juggling a job, he understood she'd wanted to be closer to home. In fact, he was surprised she hadn't moved earlier.
He'd been looking forward to seeing it since he got the letter.
But now, standing outside this house, he suddenly felt nervous. The war was finally over, and they'd been victorious. He'd rushed home as quickly as possible, wanting to surprise her. But now, staring at this strange and beautiful place, he wasn't sure he belonged here. What if they'd moved on? He'd been away for so long, it would be understandable.
Still, there was no point delaying. He checked the address one last time. This was the house Nancy had written about. Raising a hand he pushed open the gate. It creaked as he pushed it, and he heard the sound of running footsteps from around the back, and a small brown haired girl appeared at the side of the house. She paused, and for one dreadful moment John was scared she wouldn't recognise him. Then she yelled 'Daddy!' at the top of her voice, running towards him, and threw herself into his arms. Scooping her up, he laughed, overjoyed at being reunited.
"Hello darling, did you miss me?" he whispered in her ear, and she nodded seriously.
"Of course. And I prayed, every day, like Mummy told me, that you'd be home soon. That you'd be alright."
"Well, I guess God was listening," John laughed, and his daughter smiled.
"I knew he would."
Then there came the sound of footsteps from around the back, and Nancy appeared round the corner.
"Elizabeth Mary, who are you talking to? You know what I said about running off…" Her voice trailed off as she realised who it was standing in her front garden.
She was thinner than when he'd left, her face paler and older looking, but her eyes were still bright, if slightly tired, and when she caught sight of him her whole face lit up, and she looked seventeen again. Dropping the trowel she'd been carrying she ran towards him, in the same way her daughter had, and he just had time to put his daughter down, out of harm's way, before Nancy was upon him.
They embraced for some time, until Lizzie began to feel rather left out, and tugged at her father's arm. Then, laughing, he pulled away from his wife, and turned to his daughter.
Nancy, grinning, suddenly remembered that John hadn't seen the inside of the house yet, and asked Lizzie if she would like to show him around. The two disappeared into the house together, and Nancy watched them, a smile on her face. The war was over, John was home, and this might just be the happiest day of her life.
…
It was only far later that night that she remembered the rest of the family were coming over the next day. It had been a way of coping in the war, by making sure that once a month, one person hosted for all the others. Everyone picked up what they could with their rationing cards, and turned up, and they had a sort of picnic style meal in the lounge or garden (depending on the weather). The people there varied, depending on who was around, but it tended to be Mrs Blackett and Mrs Walker, Susan , Titty and Peggy if they could get time off*, Dot and Dick occasionally, Bridget when she wasn't at school, and, more often than not, the GA.
At first Nancy had been wary of having the GA round, but her respect for her great-niece seemed to have grown since her marriage, and Nancy felt more confident in knowing she had every right to kick the GA out of her house should she do or say anything offensive. But she'd been very kind to Elizabeth, seeming nicer, perhaps, than she'd been to Nancy and Peggy, and although she raised her eyebrows and muttered occasionally at Nancy's parenting methods (which involved trying to inspire and imagination and a sense of adventure, and teaching her how to climb and swim from a young age) she never openly protested the way she had to Mrs Blackett about Nancy and Peggy. Nancy wondered if this was because her and Peggy had turned out alright, or whether she just realised there was no point arguing. It was probably the later.
…
The next morning the three worked hard to clear up the house, making sure it was neat and tidy for when the others arrived. Then John, with a grin on his face, suggested they find some way to shock everyone, who had no idea he was home.
"How do you propose to do that? I mean, I'm all for giving them a shock, but what were you planning on doing?"
"I don't know," he grinned, "planning that sort of thing was always your scene. Hide in a cupboard, perhaps, or…"
"No, we'll go for something simpler. You hide in the kitchen. When they arrive, I'll ask who wants tea. Then, I'll come and make it, and you can go in to hand it out. Just stroll in like you've spent your whole life delivering tea. It'll give them the shock of their lives."
He chuckled. "Sounds good. But for it to work… Lizzie! When they arrive you mustn't tell anyone your Daddy is home, okay? We're going to surprise them all."
The little girl looked slightly confused by this, so Nancy quickly explained the plan to her. She laughed and nodded.
"I won't say anything," she promised. Then, "Will Aunty Bridget be here?"
Nancy smiled, "I hope so."
Bridget and Lizzie had hit it off from the first. Bridget had been thrilled at becoming an aunt, and now in her teens, she had vowed to be a best friend and older sister to the young child. Growing up with four older siblings had made a huge difference in her life, and she had determined that this young child would not suffer for not having any older siblings. So Elizabeth had found a sister, playmate, and lifelong friend in her aunt.
…
They were just about ready when the doorbell rang. Nancy quickly ushered John into the kitchen and shut the door, before running to let in the first arrival. It was Mrs Blackett, and she glanced at her daughter's face curiously. Nancy's tired and worn down appearance had not escaped her notice recently, and she knew the worry about John had had a huge influence on her. Now, however, she seemed cheerful and upbeat, and Mrs Blackett wondered what had changed.
"Any news from John?" She asked, already knowing the answer, nothing else could have cheered her daughter up this much.
Nancy grinned. "Yes," she said. They'd agreed it was easier to admit she had heard than try to pretend she didn't know anything. "He says it's practically all over, they've been told they won't be needed much longer, and he hopes to be home soon."
"Oh, Nancy!" Mrs Blackett wrapped her daughter in a hug. "That's brilliant news. I'm so pleased. Does Liz know?"
"Yes, so if she seems a bit hyper, that's probably why. I know I shouldn't have raised her hopes too soon, but I had to tell someone and she noticed I was behaving oddly excited." Nancy felt guilty about lying, but as the act would only need to be kept up for an hour at most, it wasn't too bad.
Then the doorbell rang again, and Nancy rushed to answer it. Mrs Blackett let herself into the lounge and sat down. She could hear Nancy relaying the joyful news to a delighted Susan, who had holiday due from nursing and had taken the day off to join them.
Soon everyone was gathered in the lounge, the large party consisting of Mrs Blackett and Peggy, Mrs Walker, Susan, Titty and Bridget, and the GA. Everyone normal, really, apart from the Ds.
Standing in the doorway and grinning round at everyone Nancy asked
"Tea, anyone", and at once a chorus of yeses arose. She laughed, and amended "Does anyone not want tea?" The silence gave her her answer.
"Do you need a hand?" Her mother asked, and she shook her head.
"I'll be fine, mother. Besides, the kitchen is a mess and too small for several people to work at once. I'll get on better on my own."
Mrs Blackett nodded in acceptance, and then as Nancy left the room, remembered she'd helped out several times before when the kitchen had been in a terrible state. Nancy'd never minded before. What was the girl up to?
A few minutes later footsteps sounded down the hall and the door opened. But to everyone's surprise it was not Nancy who walked through the door carrying tea but a young man with dark brown hair and a wide smile. For a second there was complete silence in the room. Then Bridget shouted 'John!' at the top of her voice and peace was forgotten for almost half an hour.
…
Thanks to Susan's presence of mind the two mugs of tea had been removed from John's hands before they could be dropped on the floor. However, once there was calm it was discovered they were quite cold, and undrinkable.
"Never mind." Nancy laughed. "I only made the two, as I thought this might happen. Shall I go make up the rest now? And how about lunch?"
"Yes please!" Said Bridget, and everyone laughed.
…
There was a knock at the door, and Nancy rose to answer it. Pulling the door open she saw Dick and Dorothea standing on the doorstep, and her face broke into a smile.
"Come in, come in! I wondered when you'd tire of Norfolk and turn up here." Then she caught sight of the tired look around their eyes, the sadness radiating from them, and her cheerful demeanour dropped. "Who is it?" She asked, quietly.
"Tom," Dick answered. "We've been with the family, but…"
"It all got too much." Dot forced a smile. "I miss him, but… well, trying to look after his family and deal with their grief. The war's over, and we've lost so much, but there's so much to celebrate too, and we couldn't, not there."
Nancy nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm pleased you're here. Come on through." She led them into the other room. "The Ds are here! They've lost a close friend, so be gentle, and don't talk about it! We're to cheer them up."
Everyone murmured sympathetically, and then Mrs Blackett turned the conversation to music, and soon Nancy was pleased to see them talking and laughing with the rest. Both still looked strained, but that was natural, she supposed, and they couldn't be expected to be over a childhood friend so easily.
The evening passed merrily, and then those who lived close enough to travel home did so. Those who did not were staying, sleeping in blankets and sleeping bags on sofas and beds and floors. Dick and Dot Nancy had invited to stay as long as they needed. Once everyone was settled she headed upstairs to bed with John.
…
The sun was high the next morning, and everyone rose in good spirits. Even Dick seemed improved, though the loss of a friend still troubled him. But Nancy's eyes several times caught Dot staring vacantly out of the window, and once frantically brushing away a tear. She wondered how close the two had been.
But then Susan suggested a walk, and Dot seemed to perk up at once, and Nancy forgot her wondering in the rush to get ready to go out. They walked for some distance, Lizzie often being carried by John, Nancy, or some other member of the party, because her legs were tired, or just because she was so sweet she seemed to demand constant attention, without ever becoming spoilt because of it. The GA, who had been left behind to read a book, greeted their return with a demand to know if they knew what time it was, and they suddenly realised they had completely missed lunch and it was now time for afternoon tea. So they had that instead. The fresh air and good food had put some colour back into Dot's cheeks, and she laughed along with the rest, but when Nancy met her eye as they cleared the table it seemed hollow, as though she was a shell, not a real person. Putting the plates down Nancy reached across and grabbed her hand.
"Dot, what's happened? Why…?"
Then Dot's eyes filled with tears, and Nancy bundled her into her bedroom with a shout to Dick to not let anyone disturb them, and held her tight while she cried and cried and cried. Dot's whole body was shaking, she seemed to be completely consumed by grief, and suddenly Nancy understood. She held her until her tears had died down and she wasn't shaking so violently, and then asked
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Dot considered trying to claim ignorance, caught Nancy's eye, and thought the better of it.
"I… We… Well…" She took a deep breath and tried again. "What exactly do you want to know."
"You love him?" Dot nodded. "And he loved you?" Dot nodded again, then shuddered.
"Don't, oh please don't refer to him in the past tense."
Nancy smiled softly, her heart breaking for the younger girl. She'd never been particularly close to Dot when they were younger, the age gap meaning that Dot had often spent time with Titty, Roger and Dick rather than her, John, Susan and Peggy. But now she saw her own pain in the girls eyes, the fear she'd felt every day when there hadn't been a letter from John, only it was magnified a hundred thousand times, because it wasn't just fear, anymore. Dot was living a nightmare from which she would not wake up.
"But why did you come here?" This was still bothering Nancy. "Surely the best place to mourn was with his family. Why turn up here and say you want to celebrate?"
"Because I couldn't mourn there, not really. None of them knew, you see. We'd agreed we'd tell them when the war was over, get married to the sound of the victory bells."
"So you had to try and monitor the amount of grief you showed them. Oh, Dot! No wonder you looked so exhausted when you turned up here."
"They expected Dick and I to maintain calm and help support the family. His mother pretty much collapsed you see, and hasn't left bed since. I had to help with cooking and cleaning and comforting his two baby sisters, and I could even cry at night because I was sharing a room with them."
"So what did you do?"
"Woke up about half past four yesterday morning, and realised I would collapse if I had to keep going. I packed mine and Dick's stuff, ordered a taxi to take us to the station, and then woke Dick and told him to get ready. Then I went and told Tom's mother that I felt we could not infringe on her hospitality any longer, and that we felt we ought to come and check you were all still alright here. Then I left before she could protest."
Nancy chuckled. "She probably thinks you terribly rude."
"It doesn't matter anymore what she thinks of me."
"Oh, Dot." Nancy said again, and then the two lapsed into silence. After a while there came a gentle knock at the door, and John peered round.
"We're all going to have something to eat before bed. Are you two going to join us?"
Nancy glanced questioningly at Dot, who hesitated, and then nodded.
"We'll be down in a sec."
Once John had gone, Nancy turned to Dot and smiled gently.
"Come, let's rinse your face, see if we can remove the tear stains before we go down." And she led her to the bathroom.
Once that was done, they headed for the stairs. Nancy suddenly grabbed Dot's hand and said
"If you ever need to talk, you know you can come to me? I understand what it is to lose someone you love. Father died, in the last war, and there were many times in this when post got delayed and I thought maybe John might be lost too."
And Dot smiled, a real smile, and knew coming to Nancy was the best thing she could have done.
…
It was almost a month later that saw everyone gathered again. Roger had come home, and it seemed only right to gather to celebrate. Nancy offered to host this gathering too, seeing as she still seemed to have half the party staying with her, and everyone was crowded into her rather cramped living room. The atmosphere was good, everyone was in happy mood, and laughter rang through the house. Dick was now almost back to normal, and the reunion with Roger had thrown all thoughts sadness from him for the time being. Only Dot felt sad, watching all these people celebrating the return of a loved one and feeling guilty for begrudging them every second. But she was determined not to ruin the day by being sad, and for most of the time she managed it remarkably well. It was only later, just as they gathered round the table for tea, when the talk turned to the war, and the lives lost, and Roger commented on how remarkably lucky they'd been, nobody from their group lost at all, and everyone agreed, and Dot felt her eyes welling up with tears, and Nancy, rising briskly, led her from the room with a command to 'carry on without us ' and to not, 'for any reason, disturb us'.
…
It was about half way through the meal when there was a knock at the door. Susan rose to get it, and came back with a man in tow. About the same age as Peggy, he looked older, his face reflective of so many who'd seen horrors in the war. Dick rose with a gasp, and rushed towards him.
"Tom! But we thought… I mean, there was a telegram. You're supposed to be dead… Not that I'm not pleased to see you but…"
"Where's Dot?" He interrupted, not harshly, but hardly politely either.
"With Nancy. Tom, what happened to you?"
"Never mind me, where's Dot?"
"I told you, with Nancy."
"Where's Nancy?"
"She said not to disturb them."
"Who, Dot?"
"No, Nancy."
"Fuck Nancy." There was a collective gasp from around the table, but Tom seemed completely deaf to the upset he was causing to their meal. "Where is she?"
"Upstairs, first door on the right." John butted in, then, when Tom had run from the room, "sit down, Dick, and finish the meal. We can sort this out later." And Dick, unsure what else he could do, sat down.
…
Nancy looked up when the door opened, ready to tell the intruder to go away. Dot was wrapped in her arms, having just about stopped crying, and she did not want anyone disturbing her now. But when her eyes met those of the man at the door, she realised instantly who he was, and smiled warmly at him. Then she bent her head, and said quietly to Dot,
"There's a visitor here for you. I know you don't feel like talking to anyone at the moment, but this is the one person I think you won't mind seeing." Dot hesitated for a moment, then looked up, let out a strange cry, and flew across the room. Nancy rose slowly from her seat, glanced at them for a moment, then silently let herself out the room. They'd be able to talk to her later.
She headed downstairs with a smile on her face, and joined the others just as they decided the meal was finished. Dick caught sight of her and instantly apologised.
"I'm so sorry Nancy. You said for no one to disturb you but he wouldn't take no for an answer."
"It's alright, Dick. It's quite alright."
"But it's not. I shouldn't have let him upstairs."
"Letting him up was the best thing you could have done."
"But you said…"
"Because the last person I was expecting to turn up was the only person who could help her."
"Please stop talking in riddles, Ruth." The GA exclaimed "Who is that vulgar man? And please tell me you have politely shown him out of the house."
"Aunt Maria! What has he done to you?"
"He… insulted you rather." John met her eyes across the table. "But he didn't mean it, even if it was an incredibly rude word he used."
"You're alright with this?" The GA turned to John. "Even after what he said about your wife? You'll let her be insulted in this way?"
"I'd have done the same, in his position. So no, I'm not okay with it, but I'm ready to forgive because I understand what he felt, and as long as it was a onetime thing everybody deserves a second chance."
"But what did he say?" Nancy was well and truly bemused now.
"It doesn't bear repeating, and certainly not in polite company." Susan ruled, and John mouthed 'tell you later' at her.
…
When the two appeared downstairs some time later, the first thing Tom did was apologise to everyone for what he described as 'a shocking and unforgivable lapse in self control which I can never even try to atone for'. The second thing he did, 'in order to try and explain my abhorrent behaviour, although it can never excuse it', was to announce to everyone his engagement to Dorothea Callum. Nancy promptly led everyone in three cheers, and congratulations, before demanding to hear his full story.
"I was in the army." He said, "we were in Germany when the war was declared over. It seemed ages before we were called home, but I didn't worry, because I knew it would be alright now. I was still alive, and I knew my family were alright, because I'd received a letter from them. It had been delayed by a week, but it said they were all well, and that was good enough. I couldn't wait to get home, to family and friends, and to Dot, but I had to, and so I did. But then, when I got home, instead of the joyous homecoming I'd imagined my family were all in black, and mother certain I was a ghost. It took me a while to convince them all I was real, and a while more until they were certain I was well, and not about to drop dead in front of them. Only then did I feel I could ask about Dot and Dick, and as soon as I heard how they'd used you and then complained when you left I jumped up from the dinner table and demanded to know where you'd gone. I pretty much ran from the house with their annoyed protests ringing out behind me. And I didn't stop till I reached the station and was on a train. I found the house quite easily, and the rest you know."
…
The GA nearly came to blows with Nancy when she was informed that Tom was to stay as a guest in the house, but Nancy pointed out that as it was her house, she could have to stay who she wished, and the GA didn't have to stay if she didn't want to. "Besides," she'd pointed out, "his reaction was understandable. Although I'd rather he hadn't used such language in front of my daughter.
…
It was a lot later, when Nancy was curled up in John's arms for the night, that he asked for the full story. "I've guessed most of it, of course. I worked it out when Tom appeared in the dining room demanding Dot. But I think you knew long before then."
And Nancy, laughing, explained the full story.
…
*During the war: Susan and Peggy were working as a nurses, initially helping out in evacuation centres, and then, as the war progressed, as members of the Joint War Organisation in various auxiliary homes and hospitals. Titty had got a job as a teacher to the evacuees, which enabled her to continue living at home, but feel she was doing something for the war effort. Many if the young children were so young and confused that she felt it was her duty to try and teach them and comfort them. Dick had got himself involved in something top secret and (to Dot's relief) as safe as anything could be with a war on. He was not allowed to tell anyone what he was doing, other than 'it's about codes'. Dot herself was working as a writer, working for a newspaper publishing short stories and reports. Often criticised by other women for not taking an active part in serving her country she argued that she did. Her reports of the terrible bombings, her research in London and other major cities and the moving tales she wrote moved many to offer up their homes and food to help those with nothing. Roger had joined the air force, and with some training was flying abroad. John, of course, was in the Navy, and Nancy had been part of the Wrens, until, with Lizzie growing up and home feeling too far away, she had moved back to the Lake, buying a small cottage. Finding that there were very few jobs available and that as a married woman and young mother she could not even help Titty out because of the rules in the small school, and that there was nowhere to look after Lizzie as she worked anyway, she set up a small nursery, quite by accident. It started with her offering to look after a friend's child while her friend worked. She was stuck at home anyway, and 'digging for Britain' was not as exciting as they made it sound. Then another friend asked if she could possibly take her son, and before long Nancy was looking after eight children, plus Lizzie. To Nancy's surprise she really enjoyed this, children had never really been her thing and she had always been too impatient to deal with them. But now, perhaps because she was a mother herself, she found playing games and messing around with the children (whose ages ranged from 3 to 8) was good fun, and gave her a chance to put her imagination to use and forget, for a short while, that there was a war on and John's life was at risk. Bridget, at a large boarding school in the country, was home for holidays. Mrs Blackett and Mrs Walker, forced together by the close bonds between their children, were very good friends, and Mrs Walker was staying at Beckfoot for the duration of the war, as the Walker's house was too close to the bombing for comfort, and lonely with all the children away. Mr Walker, Captain Flint and Timothy were all away, 'doing their bit'.
Now the war was over: Susan and Peggy had been granted a much needed break from nursing, although they would have to return soon. Titty's job would last as long as there were evacuees. As of yet, no one was sure when they would return to their homes. Roger had not yet been decommissioned, but they had heard that he was safe. The same applied to Mr Walker, Captain Flint and Timothy. The rest are explained in the story (I think. If not, feel free to message me or invent your own story for them!)
...
Hope you enjoyed it. Have a lovely holiday!
