Polly's War Read Free Page B

we?’
    Lucy gave a rueful sigh. ‘It’s me own fault. I was a bit rude to her. I’ve not to come tomorrow, she says.’
    ‘By heck, that’s serious. What’ll I do without you, Lucy? Who else could I get to come every day and face my aunt’s constant carping, yet still do her every bidding with the kind of tongue-biting patience you display.’
    ‘I didn’t bite me tongue hard enough today.’
    He grinned. ‘Let rip did you?’
    ‘She started it,’ Lucy protested, and then flushed with guilt at this childish remark.
    Michael came to sit beside her on the kerb, resting his elbows on his knees. Lucy cast a sideways glance at the strong biceps beneath the rolled up shirt sleeves, the flush of freckles and sheen of golden hair on his fore arms. ‘She doesn’t mean half what she says,’ he explained. ‘It’s only her way of blowing off steam. I reckon she just enjoys the drama of a good row. Livens a dull day.’
    Lucy gave a disbelieving snort. ‘She’s a nasty minded old... sorry but she’s got me all a-fluster. Accused me of having a fancy man. As if I would. What does she take me for? Tom could be home any day now. It’s ages since I’ve heard anything, but they say everyone’ll be home in a month or two.’
    ‘Ah,’ Michael attempted to look sympathetic but his heart squeezed with an odd sort of pain as he watched the way joy and sadness chased across her lovely face, flecks of gold sparkled in the hazel eyes one minute and clouded with uncertainty the next. Brown curls danced as if with a life of their own against the flushed curve of her cheek and he longed to reach out and run his fingers through them, to kiss the rosy mouth, savour the softness of her against him. He knew for a fact that Tom Shackleton had rarely penned a line to his wife for the entire duration. Such a man did not, in Michael’s opinion, deserve to possess a lovely creature like Lucy if he couldn’t be bothered to treat her with more consideration. Pulling himself back under iron control, he glared solemnly at the setts in the road. ‘It won’t be easy for him Lucy, picking up the threads of civilian life again after so long away. He’ll feel a bit at odds for a while. I know I did.’
    Michael had been invalided out of the RAF in 1942, following a crash landing in a Lancaster bomber in which all the crew, bar him, were killed. He’d broken both legs which had left him with a limp, and suffered burns to his arms and chest, injuries which had taken a long time to heal. The guilt of finding himself alive while his mates were dead, never would. Consequently it was a subject he preferred to avoid since it had, at times, caused problems. Some folk could be less than kind when they saw a man walking around in civvies during wartime.
    ‘We’ll be fine and dandy,’ Lucy said, ‘given time, which we’ll have in plenty now this dratted war is over. Once Tom gets home I won’t need to go on me hands and knees scrubbing other folk’s mucky doorsteps.
    Michael managed a weak smile, trying to imagine an existence that didn’t contain the presence of this laughing, precious girl.
    ‘You’ll come to the party this afternoon?’ she asked.
    ‘Happen.’ His eyes on hers were thoughtful.
    ‘But you must. Everyone will be there, the whole street. There’s pies and sandwiches, jellies and all sorts of goodies. Even Mabel Radcliffe has contributed a whole ounce of butter and a plate of home-made sad-cake. What d’you think of that?’
    ‘Miracles will never cease. She’s not known for her generosity isn’t our Mabel.’ His blue eyes were twinkling now, no longer solemn.
    ‘Starts sharp at three.’ And so filled was she with the coming joys of a new life with her husband, that Lucy impulsively kissed him full on the lips, then wagged a finger teasingly in his face. ‘No arguing. Mam will have your guts for garters if you don’t show up.’
    ‘That settles it then,’ he agreed, needing to clear his throat before he could