Chapter One
"Bella! Where are you?"
Molly called up the stairs to her younger sister who had disappeared from sight keen to explore the rambling old house. She stood in the hall, holding the keys in her right hand and William's warm, slightly sticky hand in her left. She looked down at her five year old son and smiled at him.
"Auntie Bella's run off without us!" William stared up at her with curiosity; his chocolate brown eyes the mirror of his father's.
Injecting her voice with enthusiasm she continued, "Shall we go and find her?"
He grinned at her and together they started to climb the old, uneven staircase just as the elderly removal man entered the hall with a tea chest in his arms.
"Where d'you want this, Mrs James?" He called breathlessly.
Molly turned her head towards him.
"Just put it in the room over there, thanks!" She indicated the empty lounge on the left hand side of the hallway.
"Right you are!" He staggered through the door burdened by the load and Molly, not for the first time that day, wondered if he ought to be carrying heavy items at his age. It wasn't until he had arrived at their rented accommodation earlier that morning to load up their furniture and belongings, that she had realised 'Broughton and Sons Removals' consisted mainly of Mr Broughton with some assistance from a lad who appeared to be barely out of school and young enough to be his great-grandson. Charles had already left for the airfield and there was little she could do in her condition. Five months pregnant with their second child, she was beyond offering any assistance in the matter of heavy lifting. In fact it had been Charles' idea to invite Bella to stay with them to help with the strain of the house move and looking after William while he was so busy at the airfield.
Molly and William slowly made their way upstairs and along the landing as the floorboards creaked nosily under their feet. The doors to the four bedrooms stood open and at the far end of the landing they found Bella sitting in a window seat situated directly over the front door and staring out at the wonderful view across the valley. It was mid-summer and there was a heat haze in the distance. She turned her head at the sound of Molly and William approaching and said excitedly.
"Come and look at this, Mols, it's lovely!"
Molly gazed at her seventeen year old sister looking so happy and animated and realised that apart from the fact that Bella was slightly taller than her, there was no mistaking the family likeness. They shared the same dark hair, green eyes and ready wit and anyone looking at them could tell they were sisters. Molly was glad to have Bella here with her after all the years they had spent apart during the war and in the five years since, whilst Charles had been posted to various locations around the country before leaving the RAF eighteen months ago. Bella had been delighted at the invitation to stay. Of all Molly's brothers and sisters, she was the one who had taken to life in the countryside most after being evacuated to a farm near Taunton in 1940. The farmer and his wife had treated her like one of their own and it had been a terrible wrench for Bella when it was time to return home in 1945. She had found it hard to settle again in the East End of London after learning to love the open space and freedom of living in the countryside. Having struggled her way unhappily through a secretarial college course after leaving school at fifteen and two jobs, neither of which had proved very successful, she had been at a loose end and had leapt at the opportunity to spend some time back in the countryside when Molly had informed her that she and Charles were buying a wonderful old house called Greystones.
Charles had first heard about the house quite by chance. He had made an appointment with his solicitor to sign some papers relating to the lease of the airfield from the Air Ministry when Richard Murray had mentioned in passing that by coincidence only two days earlier he had been instructed to handle the sale of a property close by. The house was being sold on behalf of the family of an elderly lady who had died six months previously. Charles had been interested to hear about it particularly as it was only a mile from the airfield and he, Molly and William were currently living in a rented house more than five miles away. Richard, sensing a potential opportunity to conclude matters promptly, offered to show them the property.
Charles and Molly had fallen in love with Greystones almost from the first moment they set eyes upon the place. Molly had gasped on seeing the house for the first time and cried,
"It's just like that house in Suspicion."
Charles had given her a blank look, "What are you talking about Molly?"
"You know, the film with Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine where she thinks he's trying to kill her for her money but he's not really."
Charles had laughed, "That one must have passed me by somehow. Possibly something to do with the war? Anyway," he paused to kiss the top of her head, "You're safe enough with me. You haven't got any money!"
Molly had playfully punched him in the arm as they walked down the path to explore the house and gardens.
Greystones was a twin gabled house dating from the mid-eighteenth century and built from age weathered Cotswold stone. It possessed four bedrooms and sat in half an acre of gardens. It was perched high on the side of a valley with spectacular views at the front and set back from the road with a short gravel driveway and gardens that surrounded the house banking steeply away at the rear giving it the sense of being nestled and protected by the hillside behind.
After Charles and Molly had viewed the house, Richard Murray turned to them both.
"Well, what do you think?"
Charles had looked down at Molly and seeing her excited face knew the answer already.
"I think you've got yourself a sale, Richard, if we can come to a suitable agreement."
It was fortunate for Charles that he had recently inherited a tidy sum of money from his Great Aunt as he wouldn't have considered asking his bank manager for a further loan at the current time. The airfield was doing comfortably both as a base for the flying school with a steadily increasing number of pupils but also as a base for commercial traffic with a small but increasing number of businesses using the airfield for both pleasure fights and transport of freight not to mention a growing number of private pilots adopting it as home for their aircraft. Charles had bought a couple of surplus de Havilland Tiger Moth basic trainer planes and Molly had proved her worth by taking on flight mechanic duties. She had been fortunate to receive instruction from an amiable ground crew colleague of Charles at the flight training school where he had served out his final few months in the RAF before leaving the service in the middle of 1948.
Finding the airfield at Nethercombe Heath, a former maintenance depot in the Cotswolds that the Air Ministry were de-commissioning, had been a lucky break after months of searching for a suitable piece of land to purchase. With a grass runway, two hangars suitable for light aircraft, a control tower and a small collection of buildings and offices it was the ideal place for Charles and Molly to start their venture.
Pursuing their dream hadn't been easy. Post war austerity, food and petrol rationing and the scarcity of aviation fuel had all been a factor in delaying and altering Charles and Molly's plans, particularly Charles decision to leave the RAF at the end of the war. Serving a further three years had meant a rather unsettled life for Molly and William who had followed Charles around to several different postings. Now in the summer of 1950, with petrol rationing finally having ended in May, businesses were increasingly seeing that air travel and transport for commercial purposes would be the way forward.
Charles was an only child and his parents, Mary and Harold, had been prepared to assist him financially in the venture together with a loan from the bank. When he signed a ten year lease on the airfield at Nethercombe Heath in the summer of 1949 he had crossed his fingers and prayed his instincts about the business were right. Now, twelve months later, after a lot of hard work the airfield was starting to make enough money to pay its way and provide Charles and Molly with enough income to manage and consider putting down permanent roots in the area. The legacy from Charles' Great Aunt Louisa would enable them to finally purchase a family home which was even more pressing a need now that Molly was expecting their second child.
The news of Molly's pregnancy had been welcomed by both of them, particularly Molly. She recalled her dismay at discovering she was pregnant with William in 1944 when she had realised that it would mean leaving the WAAF and giving up the work she loved. However, six years later, she was living a life she never would have dreamed possible when she was a young girl in the East End of London. Not only did she have a husband and son, whom she loved with all her heart, but on most days she was still able to spend time working with aircraft engines and she had finally achieved her dream of learning to fly. Charles had been true to his word and Molly had been his first civilian pupil. He had been a patient, if slightly nervous, instructor. His nerves, he admitted much later, were caused primarily by the fact that Molly had proved to be an extraordinarily confident pupil. He had feared that she was over confident but eventually had to concede that she was simply a talented pilot with a natural feel for the aeroplane. The day she had first flown solo had been a proud moment for Charles. For Molly it had been the culmination of all her childhood ambitions. Sometimes she almost had to pinch herself to believe that so much had happened to change the life for which she had once seemed destined. Joining the WAAF had opened the doors to a whole world of possibilities and she had grasped the opportunity given to her with both hands.
Now her attention was once again firmly turned towards her family and creating a home and life for all of them. Having grown up with four younger siblings Molly sometimes felt sorry for Charles having had no one with whom to share his childhood memories. She wanted William to have brothers and sisters and saw herself presiding over a small, noisy, chattering brood of children. William was a bright, energetic five year old, full of questions about everyone and everything. He had already spent an inordinate amount of time at airfields and not surprisingly, 'plane' had been one of his first words. Molly had carried on servicing the Tiger Moths until a couple of weeks ago when Charles had engaged the services of a former RAF flight mechanic, Donald MacKenzie, to take over from her as she was starting to find it uncomfortable to clamber up and down step ladders and reach awkward places in the engine.
"I'm not leaving for good, mind you." She told Charles, sternly, "Don't get any ideas about retiring me."
After six years of marriage he knew better than to try to put a stop to Molly doing anything she had set her heart upon and replied mildly,
"I wouldn't dream of it!"
The view from the landing window at Greystones was spectacular. Being perched high on the side of a valley, they were able to see for miles taking in the green patchwork of fields edged by low Cotswold stone walls, clumps of woods, farms and small hamlets of cottages.
"You 'aint 'alf lucky, Mols!" Bella said wistfully.
Molly nodded, "Yeah, I reckon I am, Bella."
It had taken until early afternoon for all the boxes to make their way from the removal van into the house. Mr Broughton had required frequent stops for liquid refreshment in the form of cups of tea which Bella had been dispatched to make on a regular basis.
"There won't be any bloody tea left in Ceylon at this rate!" She whispered fiercely to Molly after the fifth request.
"Mind your language!" Molly scolded her, "Will's listening."
Bella glanced down at William and holding her finger to her lips said, "Sshh!"
William giggled in response.
"It's not funny, Bella" Molly said to her sister, "Imagine what Charles' mother will say if Will starts effing and blinding next time they visit."
Bella started giggling at the thought and Molly losing patience shooed her out of the kitchen. She reflected that on the whole she and Mary had got along reasonably well considering their very different backgrounds but Molly certainly didn't want to give her any excuse for criticising either herself or the way she was bringing up her grandson.
By the end of the afternoon the major pieces of furniture had been appropriately located in their rooms and all that remained was the unpacking of the small items from the tea chests which Molly assumed would probably take herself and Bella several days to complete but on the whole things were beginning to fall into place and it was starting to look like their home.
It was almost six o'clock when Molly heard the sound of a car pulling up on the gravel outside the front door and glancing out of the lounge window saw a small, black four door Austin Eight saloon driven by Charles. Rosa was no more. It had been a sad day when Charles had sold Rosa to a colleague at the flight training school just before leaving the RAF. She held a lot of memories for both Charles and Molly but reason had seen sense; a two-seater sports car was not a suitable vehicle for a family of three.
Molly went out to the front door and opened it wide as Charles walked towards her. She smiled broadly at him and declared,
"Welcome home."
He laughed and swept her up into his arms before setting her back on her feet and leisurely kissing her. Bella wandered up the hallway from the kitchen and catching sight of Charles and Molly embracing rolled her eyes before coughing pointedly to catch their attention. Molly turned her head towards her sister.
"Something wrong, Bella?"
Bella pulled a face, "Only you two, at it again!"
Charles looked slightly embarrassed but Molly laughed, "We aren't pensioners yet!"
Bella shook her head, "More's the pity. Anyway, dinner's ready and Will's sat at the table waiting." She turned abruptly on her heel and strode back towards the kitchen. Charles smiled ruefully.
"Oh, I do love the Dawes' family charm!"
William was pleased to see his father and Charles bent over him to ruffle his dark, wavy hair,
"Had a good day, scamp?" he asked.
"Auntie Bella took me to see the ducks, Daddy."
Bella piped up immediately, "What noise do they make, Will?"
Molly rolled her eyes, she had already heard these impressions at length this afternoon when Bella and Will had returned from a trip to the village duck pond and said hastily,
"Not now, Will. Eat your dinner and tell Daddy about it later."
Charles smiled gratefully and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. He looked hot and weary and said apologetically,
"Have you by any chance had time to get that old boiler working? I'd love a bath because I spent most of the day helping Donald and I'm a bit grimy!" Adding half-heartedly afterwards, "If not, I'll see what I can do after dinner."
Molly gave him a long look. They both knew that she was far better at these sorts of jobs than he was. She shook her head,
"What would you do without me? 'Course I got it working! You can run a bath later on."
He said nothing but looked grateful and relieved and they all carried on with their meal whilst Molly recounted the events of the day. As they were finishing, Charles said,
"I almost forgot. I called in at the village shop on my way back and Stimpson will send up some groceries with the delivery boy tomorrow, just to help us out until we're organised here."
Bella looked up sharply, "Well I hope he brings some tea. 'Cos that Broughton geezer pretty much drank us dry today!"
As Charles lounged in the Victorian roll-top bath soaking off the sweat and grime of a day spent fiddling with aeroplane engines and some of the other dark, dusty previously unexplored recesses of the hangars, he heard a soft tapping on the bathroom door.
"Who is it?"
"Who d'you think? Can you let me in?" Came the loudly whispered reply.
Charles leaned out of the bath and stretched a long wet arm across to the bathroom door, finding he was just about able to reach to turn the key in the lock. Molly slipped into the bathroom and carefully shut the door behind her. She knelt down next to the bath and Charles reached out a wet soapy hand to touch her face.
"Oi, you're dripping water on me!" she laughed
"Well, you could always join me." He said his eyebrows raised and a hopeful note in his voice.
"Charles!" Molly said so primly, that he stared at her in genuine surprise, "Bella's downstairs and I only just got Will to sleep and anyway," she added with a giggle, "There 'aint room in there for a man and a beached whale!"
Charles gazed at Molly. It was true that she was blooming this time around more so than with William but only Molly could possibly refer to herself as a whale. At twenty six he thought she had never looked more beautiful. He smirked and said softly.
"Well, would you scrub my back for me?"
Molly nodded. As she stood up and reached into the bath for the soap Charles caught her hand beneath the water.
"Sure you don't need a bath?"
Their eyes were level. They both smirked, remembering other occasions but this time Molly shook her head.
"Shame!" he said softly and leaned across to kiss her before releasing her hand. She moved around behind him and began to work the bar of soap up to a lather before spreading her hands across his back and gently working the lather from the base of his spine upwards in firm, circular, even movements, massaging the muscles until she reached his shoulders and neck where she began kneading the tension away with the pressure of her strong, deft, fingers. Charles' dropped his head forwards and closed his eyes.
"Better?" she asked folding her arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.
He smiled, his eyes still closed and reached up to catch her hands in his.
"It feels right here, doesn't it?"
She nodded. "Yes, this is our place now."