September : chapter one

"Um..Peggy what should I do with these?" Elspeth held out a bundle of letters, mostly still in their opened envelopes.

At Mrs Blackett's insistence, Elspeth and Bridget were sorting out their bedroom, formerly the domain of the Amazon pirates. Peggy was putting her things away in the spare room, self-consciously setting a good example. Bridget had cheerfully plonked her clothes in the chest of drawers, on top of the lining paper already there. Of course, Elspeth anxious to do things right, would think to re-line the drawers. Peggy could not recall ever having re-lined her drawers. She rather suspected Susan did so regularly.

Colin appeared behind his sister and swiped from the top two letters from the pile, dancing back out of reach.

"Bet they're love letters." He said gleefully. "Shall I read them?"

"Hand them over, I'll write and see what Nancy wants done with them." Peggy said. Elspeth thrust the bundle into Peggy's outstretched hand. Colin moved further out of reach.

"Come on, Colin, those too, please." Years of knowing Roger had taught Peggy not to rise to the bait.

Colin opened one of the envelopes and read, "Dear Nancy, I've almost no news at all to tell you, which is hardly surprising since it's only a couple of hours since we waved you off at the station! Titty has cheered up"

"Beast!" The palm of Bridget's hand made resounding contact with Colin.

"Give those letters to me." Peggy knew if she had to take them – and she could easily- she would have lost something that would be hard to win back.

"That isn't funny. It's just nasty and cheap and for all you know you could be laughing at them and… and they could be…"

"Bridget!" Peggy said. She wasn't quite sure if Bridget was going to cry or not, but the youngest Walker's voice sounded perilously close to it. "Bridget, it is not up to you to slap Colin, however badly he is behaving. Go to your room, close your door and don't come out until I tell you."

The speed with which Bridget obeyed her told its own tale.

"She hit me and she called me nasty and cheap and a beast and"

"Colin, that will do. You can go to your room, shut the door and not come out until I say either."

At least, Peggy thought she had time to think about what she was going to going to do next. She could hand the matter over to Mother. She may as well give up on being a proper adult there and then, if she did that. Elspeth was hovering anxiously.

"I'm really sorry Peggy, I didn't realise that Colin would do that." Elspeth said tentatively.

Oh, but you weren't surprised when he did. Peggy thought to herself, and that tells me something.

Aloud she said, "None of that was your fault, and no-one thinks it is. Better go downstairs and find something else to do, until I decide to let them out."

Peggy had been surprised, she admitted to herself. Not by the secret cache of letters – she'd known about Nancy's not very secret hiding place for years. She's found it when raiding the drawer for handkerchiefs during an especially unpleasant cold. The drawer on Nancy's side of the chest of drawers had seemed so much shallower than her own. It had never occurred to her to unpin the lining paper and read the letters. If it was pirate stuff, Nancy would have told her soon enough. Nancy didn't leave her out of things.

Hiding the letters somewhere else in the house would only cause trouble later. There had been a few girls at school who would have behaved as Colin had done (perhaps more secretively). Writing Edith Beasconsfield has such a terrible nose – I suppose she doesn't realise – she never sees herself from the side poor girl in her diary had been rather fun at the time. Edith had spent a lot of time trying to see her profile in the mirror over the next few days and was duly reprimanded for vanity by matron. Peggy had been tempted to try something more elaborate, but had found the effort of writing the ordinary diary entries to pad it out distinctly dull. By the end of January she had used the diary only to count the days left until their return home.

She was most likely to find what she wanted in Uncle Jim's study. For a few minutes she toyed with the idea of hiding the letters in there – the room after all was forbidden to all the children. She didn't trust Colin to obey that rule. Poacher turned game-keeper, that's what she was, Peggy thought, poking about in cupboards. She and Nancy had, after all, encouraged Dick to burgle the study, had slipped out of the house at night, had been late for innumerable mealtimes. Nancy had set the firecracker off on Uncle Jim's houseboat roof, but Peggy would have willingly done it herself. She would have asserted her right to do so, indeed, had she chanced to be the elder. Ah, a tin with a reasonably well-fitting lid. The inside of the lid was scorched, but it was big enough, which was all that mattered.

No, it wasn't the same. It wasn't quite the same anyway. The Amazons had been wild and sometimes disobedient. They would never have jeered at people's real feelings as Colin had done.

Wild Cat Island was the obvious place to hide the tin with the letters in it. She would have to bury it, though, and the soil was quite shallow in many places. Besides it was too calm for sailing. It would have to be this side of the Lake then. Anywhere close to the house was likely to be dug up and planted with vegetables. They had already made a start on digging up some of the lawn. The dog's home? No, it was all too likely that the children would play there quite a lot over the coming months. Titty had made Bridget promise that she would not tell the "baby Macs" about Peter Duck. Peggy could hide the tin there. She could do with getting out of the house, if she was being honest with herself.

She added a piece of paper with "Private – keep out unless your name is Nancy Blackett" on it on top of the letters in the tin and tied string round the tin securely. She would walk to Swallowdale across the fell but come back by the road. She'd call in on the Swainsons on the way back. It seemed half the Lake had been complaining about their evacuees (The other half had the evacuees complaining about them.) but no news had been received from Mary. It was hard to imagine anyone not liking Mary. Mary could even manage to feel sorry for the great aunt. Peggy had just finished tying a knot in the string when she realised what she had done.

"Galoot." She said to herself since Nancy was not there to say it. "That's what comes of planning and not thinking about what I'm doing now." Nancy was always doing that, which was how she missed so many things that Peggy spotted. Susan did it too.

Peggy had just altered Nancy Blackett to Nancy Walker and tied up the tin for a second time when Mother came into the room.

"Elspeth's moping about."

"I thought she might. Some of it is embarrassment I think. Colin knows perfectly well what he was doing was wrong, I'm sure. I don't think Bridget will see half an hour by herself has too much of a punishment. I thought she was pretty near weeping. Colin would never let it go if she had."

"She could do with it, I think." Mother agreed.

Peggy hugged her Mother. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise how much trouble I was landing you with when I suggested it."

"Compared to some of the problems, it isn't trouble. They haven't got lice; they aren't sewn in to their vests; they do know what a bath is for and they don't bite."

"Most of the problems we've heard about can't be all that common. It's always someone who knows someone who has evacuees like that. Except the bedwetting."

"Some of them are awfully young, Peggy, and they think their homes and families may be bombed by Hitler at any minute. They're bound to be terribly upset."

"I know – I just wish we'd thought to stockpile some of those Mackintosh sheet things to lend out when we were talking about this over a year ago."

Mother chuckled. She always did sound like Nancy when she did that.

"Very Susan-ish." Mother said. "But I came to tell you that Timothy is here. He's in the yard."

"But I thought - He can't possibly be shy of Elspeth and Colin. And he knows Bridget."

"I think three of them do count as a horde as far as our Mr Stedding it concern. But Elspeth hasn't given him much chance. She's busy quizzing him about that motor-bicycle of his. The one I'm not allowed to try."

Peggy hugged her Mother again. "Think of the fix we'd be in if you were laid up."

Mother looked at the knapsack and the tin.

"Hiding them?"

"I was going to take them to Swallowdale."

"Hiding them in the cave? What was it Titty called it?"

"Peter Duck."

"Doesn't Bridget know about it?"

"Bridget does, yes, but Titty said not to tell the others. If Colin's still the sort of little tick who reads other people's letters for fun, no-one should be telling him anything of the sort – and you can't tell Elspeth and expect her not to tell."

Molly shot a swift glance at Peggy.

"Timothy came to say goodbye. You'd better go and speak to him. Do I tell Bridget and Colin they can come out in half an hour, supposing you don't do it yourself?"

"Yes, although I can't see how "goodbye" could take half an hour."

"Were you going somewhere? I didn't mean to hold you up." Timothy said as Peggy came into the yard, ducking under the washing line.

"Just something I need to put somewhere safe." said Peggy. "It isn't all that urgent."

Elspeth shifted uneasily and said, "Goodbye, Mr Stedding and good luck – and thank you so much for the explanation – it was very interesting." She remembered, just, to shake hands before going back into the house at a run.

Timothy grinned wryly. "It's not often I meet someone even shyer than I am myself."

He caught sight of Peggy's expression and laughed properly. "Even I can see the funny side of my shyness. Did you think I didn't?"

Peggy blushed and found herself saying "How did you get on?" as if she had been asking after a trial for a hockey team, which made her blush worse. Timothy didn't seem to mind.

"Royal Engineers," he said, "which was what I wanted."

"Good." said Peggy, "I'm glad. I mean, I'm not glad, exactly, but.."

"But if we have to have a war, you're glad I seem to have had some choice in what I do."

Peggy nodded. It seemed slightly odd that she should be the one lost for words. On the other hand Timothy always was good in a crisis. Peggy thought most of Europe being at war was probably as big as a crisis got.

"I wonder if you'd look after the bike for me? It might yet get commandeered of course." They both looked at the Royal Enfield anxiously at this point. It seemed all too probable.

"Don't let the petrol just evaporate – use it when and while you can. But only you, Peggy, don't let your mother talk you into anything, nor Nancy if she should end up back at Beckfoot."

"I don't think she's likely to get thrown out. She isn't that wild. Neither of us are, whatever Uncle Jim says."

"I know that."

There was a small silence.

Timothy asked "Where were you going? Shall we use up some of the petrol now?"

Peggy suddenly felt much more cheerful. "Swallowdale. I was going to walk across the fell and come back by the road. We could leave the bike with the Swainsons – it's quite a short walk up to Swallowdale along the stream. I'll get my hat."

She put her head around the kitchen door. "I'm just.."

"…..Off for a last ride with Mr Stedding." Cook finished for her. "I'll keep your tea for you – and your supper if needs be."

Peggy settled the red knitted cap on her head thoughtful as she crossed the yard and settled herself behind Timothy. She was quite glad that conversation between pillion passenger and rider was so difficult that it was not really worth the effort.

"I'd better run in and see if it's alright with Mary." Peggy said when they got to Swainson's farm. "You don't have to come in if you'd rather not."

"Oh, I think it would be more polite if I did."

"If you're sure."

You couldn't be shy with the Swainsons, Peggy thought, but ever since Nancy and John had come back from the Baltic last summer, old Mr Swainson seemed to be determined on seeing romance in the most improbably places. He had even become convinced that Roger had a "young lady." It gave Mr Swainson a great deal of pleasure and harmed no-one. The potential for embarrassment today was huge and Timothy seemed just the sort of person who would mind.

Oddly though, he didn't, and it was Peggy who felt like squirming. She exchanged embarrassed grins with Margaret Burchard who was shelling peas at the kitchen table, while keeping an eye on little Mary-Jane and her own small daughter, Edna. Peggy was rather glad when Edna abandoned the rather wobbly tower of wooden bricks and came to stand near her. However hard she concentrated on what Edna was saying, she could not help overhearing some of what Mr Swainson said.

"Have you got a sister?"

"Yes, I've got a big sister."

"I'm going to have a little sister. Mummy says it might be a little brother, but I want a sister. I told Mummy I wanted a big sister, but she said it had to be a little one. I suppose it's because of the war. Mummy says we won't be able to get the usual things while the war's on. It's not fair."

"They grow. I expect you'll get to love your little brother or little sister when they arrive."

You're a lucky fellow with his head screwed on right.

"How do you know?"

"My friend has two little sisters and a little brother and she loves them."

She's the better cook of the two.

"Did she get to choose?"

"No one gets to choose."

Prettier too!

"So who decides then?"

"I think it just happens. It's random."

Not that her sister isn't fine-looking too.

"What's random?"

"When things just happen." Peggy felt herself in deep waters. "Anyway that means you're going to be a big sister."

Married a young man in the navy. Good fellow. Doesn't sing as well as his brother. His brother brought his young lady to meet me.

Why doesn't Timothy do something about getting away? Peggy thought.

"I'll know lots and lots if I'm a big sister won't I?"

"All the big sisters I know think that."

"Peggy and Timothy will want to be getting away for their walk now." Mary said coming in from the dairy.

"Aye," Mr Swainson chuckled, "aye."

Unable to bear it any longer, Peggy said her good-byes and went out. Timothy followed her, seemingly unruffled. Peggy set a fast pace up the path and was soon hot enough to excuse her flaming cheeks. Timothy kept pace easily and had breath to spare for conversation.

"So what's this I'm hearing about Roger and a girlfriend?"

"Roger is a favourite with Mr Swainson. It's the singing you see. Mr Swainson has become convinced that Roger not only has a young lady but has brought her to meet the Swainsons. He can never quite remember the young lady's name."

"But it's always on the tip of his tongue – some outlandish name." Timothy said solemnly.

"That's it." said Peggy.

"I'm sorry if you were embarrassed."

"The Swainsons have been friends a long time."

Peggy felt rather relieved Timothy was not much of a talker as they continued up the path.

They had hidden the tin in Peter Duck and returned to Beckfoot. The Royal Enfield had been ensconced in the old stable and Timothy had stayed for an early supper after all and had said goodbye to everyone else again, he swung his haversack on his shoulder and said. "Walk as far as the bridge with me, Peggy?"

"If you like." She had far rather not. Was it all going to be terribly awkward?

They reached the bridge.

"So long," said Timothy, "I wouldn't be surprised if you do get your chance to do something else sooner than you think. Remember what I said about not letting the petrol evaporate. It's yours until I come back."

And he shook her hand again and went striding off into the dusk so quickly she barely had a chance to say good-bye and good luck.

Molly Blackett had chased the three children upstairs, if not to bed, by the time Peggy got back. Peggy came into the drawing room and flopped down next to her mother on the sofa with a sigh.

"For a day of rest, that wasn't very restful. I'll be glad to be back at work tomorrow for the peace and quiet. Were we really as much work – Nancy and I?"

"Sometimes – but not in the same way. How is Mary Swainson getting on with her evacuees?"

"She's not Mary Swainson anymore, remember – but very well indeed. Little Edna's a bit older than Mary-Jane, but not so much older that they can't play together. I don't think she'll have long to wait for her new brother or sister. Margaret Burchard seemed quiet but friendly."

"There's this girls' school that has moved to the head of the Lake. It only takes eleven to sixteen year olds. It might not be as good as the schools they were at." Molly said doubtfully.

Peggy knew what she meant "Probably not, but they could always shove them up a form if needs be. If we put the seats and handlebars right down on my bike and Nancy's, they can cycle there. Elspeth's a bit short in the leg but I should think she'll be alright."

"Sammy was saying that they're doing local kids in the morning and evacuees in the afternoon, over in "Rio". Do you think they'll take Colin?"

"It's worth taking Colin with you and seeing. The sooner the better I should say." Peggy caught herself yawning. "Speaking of which, do I have to go and do a stern telling-off?"

"I gave them a telling-off but there is nothing to stop you adding your twopennoworth if you like. In one way this is easier."

Peggy lifted an enquiring eyebrow at her mother and waited.

"You're here."

Later, Peggy was brushing her teeth. Bridget had apologised. Colin had not. Still, his real offence had been against Nancy or perhaps John and it was a bit much to expect him to write and confess to them. Peggy thought confessing something like that to John would be much worse. Give it a few months, she promised herself in the mirror, give it a few months and I'll join up. I'll join something. Let everything get settled here first.

Next morning there were three letters. One from Susan, one from Nancy and one in writing she didn't recognise. Peggy opened Nancy's first, and then Susan's skimming them both quickly. Neither contained bad news and other news could wait. Alone for a moment in the post office, Peggy opened the third.

Jim Brading – she had danced with him at Nancy's wedding. A friend of the Walkers. The one who owned Goblin, or his uncle did. She was not quite sure she had remembered correctly. Anyway, he had joined the Navy, not surprising really in a friend of the Walkers.

The senior partners clapped me on the shoulder and gave me their blessing. I kept expecting one of them to say "It's up to you to uphold the honour of Honeyfield, Wragg and Woodley." but neither of them did. It looks as though neither of them will get their retirement for a bit.

I hope I remembered to say it at the time, but thank-you for your part in making John and Nancy's wedding so enjoyable. I'm well aware that bridesmaids, especially chief bridesmaids, do more than just look ornamental. Titty had tried explaining to me how lovely the lake and the hills were, but I still hadn't quite realised. The Walkers did send me a picture postcard a number of years ago, but when I came to pack my kit I couldn't find it.

Peggy glanced over at the postcard rack. They had ten different views, but there had been something of run on postcards already. She picked out one of each view, tucked them in her handbag and put the money in the till. She could send one a fortnight or one a week perhaps. It seemed such a small thing to be able to do for someone.