If Life Starts Now

A companion short story to The Lost English Girl

Viv juggled the rock cakes she’d cradled on her lap on the bus from one hand to another and knocked on the door of the address Vanessa had given her. It had been a fight to hold back her ration coupons from Mum’s weekly shop to have enough sugar and eggs to make the sweets. However, when she told her mother that they were for a friend who was poorly and wasn’t Father Monaghan always preaching about charity and goodwill, Mum had finally relented, separating Viv's ration coupons from Dad and her own. Yet that hadn’t stopped Mum from sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea, criticizing Viv as she made the cakes that morning.

Just a little bit longer. That’s what Viv kept telling herself every time Mum cut into her with another barb. If she just held on a little bit longer, and she had a little luck, she might finally have enough money saved in her Post Office savings account to move out by the autumn.

A crash from deep inside Vanessa’s house was followed swiftly on by at least two pairs of pounding feet before the front door was wrenched open and Viv found herself staring down at a little boy and a girl just a little older than Maggie. Both children wore shirts made out of the same plain blue cotton, the girl clad in a brown skirt that matched her brother’s trousers. The children stared up at Viv with the same open curiosity that Maggie always had when she was confronted with someone new.

Viv stared at the children, her mouth dry. Vanessa had told her that she had a big family—seven in all—but Viv had thought that the children were all evacuated to the countryside. She hadn’t expected to see Vanessa’s younger siblings—hadn’t prepared herself— and her heart broke for the hundredth time that day thinking of her daughter who was so far away.

“Who are you?” asked the little boy.

“You can ask people that! That’s rude,” said the little girl with an authority that told Viv she was like the elder of the two siblings.

“Can too,” said the boy, screwing his face up.

“My name is Viv,” she said with a swallow. “I’m your sister’s friend.”

“Which one?” the girl demanded.

“Vanessa,” she said.

“Vanessa,” the little girl bellowed, running down the hallway while wagging her head from side to side.

“What’s in the basket?” asked the little boy with a sly look at her gingham covered basket.

“Rock cakes, but I’m afraid they’re for a friend,” she said with a smile of apology.

“Patrick Antony Sharpe, you leave Miss Byrne alone,” Vanessa called as she clattered down the stairs, fixing an earring to her earlobe. “Hello, Viv. Welcome to the madhouse.”

“I wasn’t expecting to meet your brothers and sisters,” she said, still reeling a little bit.

“Mum decided to bring everyone home. She said that after all of the palaver about evacuations, nothing’s happened and she didn’t want to be away from the Littles any longer. They just came home two weeks ago.”

“You never mentioned.”

If Vanessa noticed that Viv’s voice had fallen to a whisper, she didn’t have a chance to comment on it because there was a great crash from the back of the house followed by the wail of several voices.

“Oh goodness.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “That will be the twins and John.”

Not really knowing what else to do, Viv followed her friend as Vanessa hustled down a corridor that led to the kitchen. Through the door she saw a pair of twin boys of maybe fourteen wrestling on the kitchen floor while a boy, who looked to be about twelve, stood on a chair and cheered them on.

“Harry, Matthew, and John, you stop this instant,” their sister ordered.

Immediately the children split apart and separated into different corners of the room, each of the twins panting.

“What was that all about?” asked Vanessa, hands on her hips.

All three children opened their mouths at the same time to answer.

“He said that the navy won’t take me because I’m too skinny,” said one twin while the other shouted, “What does he know about boats, anyway?”

“Matthew punched Harry!” cried John, the twelve-year-old, in delight over the top of all of them.

“Enough!” shouted Vanessa. But before she could say anything else, they were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and a woman calling out, “I’m home! I’m home! No one panic!”

“That will be Mum,” said Vanessa as the younger children all streamed out of the kitchen and into the corridor to greet their mother, leaving Viv, Vanessa, and the twins in their wake.

Vanessa turned to her brother. “Really, Harry and Matthew? You’re meant to be more responsible than this lot.”

“Sorry, V,” muttered the boys in unison.

“I won’t tell Mum if you help her unload the shopping,” said Vanessa, turning a stern eye on the boys.

At once, the pair sprang into action, sprinting out of the kitchen, pushing and shoving as they went.

“A bunch of idjeets,” said Vanessa with affection. “They’re good boys, but they’re all wound up. They think they should be allowed to go off to war. At fourteen. Can you believe it? I think it kills Mum a little every time they bring it up, especially with everything going on in France. She’s terrified that we’re all about to be invaded by the Germans.

“Right, are you all ready to go visit the fallen woman?”

Viv flinched. “Don’t call her that.”

“Oh, I’m only joking. Peg’s one of us. Besides, her fiancé Jack’s coming home to marry her, isn’t he? Soon as he can get leave,” said Vanessa.

“Lucky Peg,” murmured Viv. Just think, a man who actually welcomed the news that his fiancée was pregnant. Betty had gone to visit Peg as soon as they’d been able to track down her address, and Betty reported back the next day that their friend and fellow postie hadn’t been upset about the news that she was “in trouble” at all. Instead she’d been glowing with pride.

“She did tell me to say sorry to you girls. She hated lying about being engaged to Jack, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to persuade Mr. Rowan to take her on if he knew she was due to be married,” Betty had said.

There was the clattering of footsteps and the kitchen door swung open. A plump, smiling woman shuffled her way in, a string bag hanging off of her right arm and a ten-year-old girl Viv hadn’t met yet following in her wake.

“Hello, you’ll be Our Vanessa’s friend then,” said the woman.

“Mum, this is Viv,” said Vanessa as the girl ran up to her for a hug. “And this is Polly, my shadow.”

“Are you going to the post office today?” asked Polly, blonde ringlets falling down her back as she gazed up at her older sister.

“Not today, sausage. Viv and I are seeing a friend of ours,” said Vanessa.

“You’re bringing her something sweet then?” asked Mrs. Sharpe, nodding to Viv’s basket. “I heard she’s poorly.”

“Just some rock cakes,” she said, peeling back the cloth covering the baked goods.

“There’s nothing ‘just’ about any food these days. You wouldn’t believe the queue at the butcher’s today, and what do you think? When it was my turn at the front of the counter he hardly had anything at all in. This rationing will be the death of me,” said Mrs. Sharpe cheerfully.

“We should be going,” said Vanessa to Viv in a low voice and starting to edge towards the kitchen door before calling out, “That’s us off, Mum. I’ll be back for tea.”

“Right you are. Have fun, girls!” called Mrs. Sharpe.

Even though it was technically summer, there was a fine mist in the air, so Viv watched Vanessa throw her navy mac on, stick a floppy brimmed hat on her head, and then the two of them set off to the bus stop.

“Sorry about all of the commotion,” said Vanessa with her mother’s same cheerful tone. “It’s always a bit of a production getting out the door no matter what day it is, but if Mum goes shopping, it’s a nightmare. All of the Littles always want to join in, and then one of the boys will inevitably punch the other and then you have chaos.”

“I don’t mind at all. It’s a nice change from my own parents’ house,” said Viv.

“What are they like?” asked Vanessa.

Viv considered how to answer this question. Mum would have hated the Sharpe household with its noise and the children racing about. She would have said that it was a zoo and inevitably called the Sharpes “common,” her gravest insult.

“My parents are quiet, particular, and God-fearing. The entire week revolves around church on Sunday, and the most exciting thing that can happen is that Father Monaghan can come for a visit. Mum washes the lounge curtains, the best tea set comes out, and we actually use the lounge for once,” she said.

“Use the lounge?” asked Vanessa in mock horror. “Perish the thought!”

Viv grinned. “I know.”

“Mum used to bring the best tea service out for Father Callahan, but then John threw a teacup at Matthew. Father Callahan caught it—would you believe it? Mum nearly fell over herself apologizing, but he told us used to play cricket at seminary so really it was the best practice he’s had in years.”

“You like Father Callahan then?” she asked.

“I do. He’s a good sort. Gives a good sermon. He’s warmer than the last priest in our parish, Father Bailey. One confession with Father Bailey and you’d wonder if there was any way to redeem your mortal soul,” said Vanessa. “What about Father Monaghan?”

Viv’s lips twisted. “My parents are devoted to him.”

Vanessa raised her brows as though understanding what Viv was not saying and changed the subject, asking, “How many of you are there?”

“Just Mum, Dad, and me now. My sister Kate moved out when she married,” she said.

“And you moved back in when you were widowed? You must be a saint,” said Vanessa.

Guilt tugged at Viv. She wanted to correct her friend that she’d never moved out, but then she would have to explain why there had never been a husband—not in any of the ways that mattered—and she couldn’t do that. Her job depended on her secrecy and her silence.

“I don’t know if I could do it,” said Vanessa as they turned the corner onto a busier road full of people bustling by.

“Do what?” Viv asked.

“Move back home once I’d left. I love my family, but all I’ve ever wanted it to be able to close the door of my own room and have it be quiet. Proper quiet.”

“Then why don’t you do it?” she asked.

Vanessa snorted. “And become a single, unmarried woman living on her own? I think Mum would die on the spot the moment I told her. Nevermind that I have no idea whether anyone would even let me a room.”

“There are boarding houses,” Viv pointed out.

Vanessa grimaced. “Which would be no better than being at home. Here, I think this is Peg’s.”

They walked up a set of three steps to a white front door. The house had been broken into flats at some point, and there was a row of three buzzers to the right of the door.

“Which one do you think it is?” asked Vanessa.

Before Viv could respond, a sash window opened and a woman with a bleached head of curls and a bold red lip stuck her head out. “Who are you looking for, love?”

“Peg O’Sullivan,” shouted Viv.

“Quite the party Peg’s got up there. Top floor. Just push on the door. It’s open,” said the woman before withdrawing and banging the window shut.

“Thank you!” Viv and Vanessa replied in unison before they pushed the door open and clambered up the stairs.

When they reached the top landing, Viv could hear muffled laughter coming from behind the closed door. Vanessa gave three rapid knocks.

“It’s open!” came Peg’s muffled cry.

Inside the flat’s miniscule entryway, Viv and Vanessa discarded their macs and hats and walked into a small but pretty living room. Sarah and Betty were already there, sitting in front of Peg who was on the sofa with her feet up.

“You’re here!” cried Peg. “Oh, aren’t you a welcome sight.”

“We brought you something,” said Viv, leaning down to kiss her friend on the cheek before unwrapping the rock cakes and adding them to the triangles of bread with a scrape of margarine already on the coffee table.

“Viv brought you something. I’m just the moocher,” said Vanessa with a laugh.

“Welcome to my home,” said Peg.

“Cup of tea?” asked Sarah, holding up a teapot. “I’m playing mother today.”

“Yes please,” said Viv.

As Sarah poured, Betty said, “We’re all here now. What happened?”

Peg looked between all of the girls, her expression serious. “Well, when a boy and a girl love each other very much…”

“Not that,” said Betty, tossing a pillow at Peg. “I mean how did Mr. Rowan find out that you’re up the duff?”

“I hate that expression,” said Peg.

“What’s better?” asked Betty. “In the family way?”

“Baking a bun in the oven?” chimed in Vanessa.

“Expecting,” said Viv.

“Up the spout?” said Vanessa to everyone’s groans.

“With child,” offered Sarah.

“That’s the best you can do?” asked Peg with a laugh. “It’s so old-fashioned.”

Sarah shrugged. “I read a lot of novels.”

“Mr. Rowan found out about my condition,” said Peg with a significant look, “because I requested a new uniform. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I haven’t been able to close my jacket or button my skirt properly for a few weeks now.”

“But you don’t look it,” said Sarah.

“Thank you, but trust me when I tell you that it happens faster than you think it will,” said Peg. “Anyway, Mr. Rowan might be a man, but he put two and two together quick enough. When he confronted me about it, I burst into tears. I either seem to be floating on a sunbeam or crying these days. There’s no in-between.

“Well, after that, I was done for. He told me in no uncertain terms that the General Post Office did not employ mothers—and certainly not unmarried ones.”

“That’s terrible,” said Vanessa, clicking her tongue against her teeth.

Peg shrugged. “At least he was kind about it when I explained that my fiancé was coming home on his next leave to marry me. Not that it helps my job at all.”

“I think that’s very poor of him,” said Betty.

“No one would care if you were a man who had a child on the way,” said Vanessa.

“But I’m not a man,” said Peg.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know your fiancé’s name,” said Viv.

“Ed,” said Peg with a dreamy look in her eye. “It’s just him and his dad. They live on the floor below us. We’ve been sweethearts for years and were engaged before he left for training. I think that’s why Mum, Dad, and his Dad didn’t hit the roof when they found out why I’d been sacked. Besides, Mum’s been praying for a grandchild ever since were were engaged. I told her she started asking God a little early!”

Viv smiled softly, glad for her friend. Peg would be married to a man she loved, raising a child whose grandparents wanted her.

“When is Ed coming back?” Viv asked.

“He’s with the Royal Artillery, and he’s been on some specialized training course down south for ages now. He can’t tell me what exactly he’s doing, but—”

There was a knock on the door, and Peg straightened. “That’s odd. Mum and Dad told me they’d be going down to Southport for the day to give us the flat.”

“I’ll go see who it is, if you like,” said Betty, popping up.

“Thanks,” said Peg before turning to the other girls again. “Anyway, that’s my sad story—and it really isn’t sad at all.”

“Can we come to the wedding?” asked Sarah.

“Sarah!” cried Vanessa. “You don’t just invite yourself to other people’s weddings. You wait to be asked.”

“I don’t see why not?” said Sarah with a shrug. “We’re good enough friends that Peg’s told us what happened. Besides, I have the dress for it.”

“I hope it’s a pretty dress,” came a male voice from behind them.

Peg’s face lit up, and then she burst into tears. “Edward Michael Delaney! What are you doing here?”

Viv turned to see a tall man in a khaki Royal Artillery uniform drop a kit bag and open his arms. “I’m here to marry you, Duckie.”

Peg flew up from the sofa and raced across the room into her fiancé’s arms while the other girls cheered.

“You’re home. You’re really home,” murmured Peg into Ed’s uniform.

He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m home on seventy-two hours leave, and I have big plans for you, Duckie.”

“Oh yeah?” asked Peg with a watery smile.

Ed looked around. “Ladies, I haven’t met you, but my Peg here has written all about you in your letters. How would you like to come to our wedding?”

Another cheer went up around the room.

“I told you,” Viv heard Sarah say to Vanessa.

“Oh my goodness, we have a wedding to plan,” said Peg, wiping away her tears.

He shook his head. “No we don’t.”

“What?” asked Peg.

“It’s already planned,” he said.

Again the door to the flat opened, and two older men and a woman all poured in, smiling.

“Mum, Dad, Mr. Delaney?” asked Peg in amazement.

“Oh, Peggy. We’ve been hiding downstairs in Mr. Delaney’s flat for ages now. I was so sure you’d be able to hear us, I didn’t dare say a word,” said Peg’s mother.

“Did we get you, petal?” asked the man Viv guessed was Peg’s father.

“I think we did,” said Mr. Delaney.

“You did,” said Peg, her eyes tearing up again.

“How do you fancy putting on a pretty dress and getting married this afternoon?” asked Ed.

“Ed, I just…”

“I want our life together to start right now,” he said, wrapping his arms around Peg. “All three of our lives together.”

Nodded and then burst into tears. “Yes. Yes, of course!”

“Come on, then,” said Mrs. O’Sullivan. “Let’s get you in your dress.”

Peg turned to her friends. “Girls, will you come help me?”

“Of course we will,” said Viv.

“Try to stop us,” said Vanessa.

“I could just nip home and get my dress…” Sarah started, but Betty cut her off with a pinch on the arm.

“Oh, no you don’t. You have to help with hair,” said Betty.

Sarah hesitated, clearly torn about the idea of not looking her very best at a wedding, but then smiled. “I can put your hair up, Peg.”

“Please,” said Peg with a smile.

“Follow me, girls,” called out Peg’s mum as she lead them through the flat’s living room and into a corridor.

This, Viv thought as they hurried around, preparing for her friend’s impromptu wedding day, is what a wedding should be. She likely wouldn’t ever marry again—no matter how bold she felt contemplating living on her own, she couldn’t imagine bringing herself to divorce Joshua—but this is what she wanted for Maggie’s wedding day. A house full of love, surrounded by people who mattered, with hope dancing in the air.