The Secret Notebook Read online

  Tears rolled down my face, chilled in the cool air. ‘I love you, Jack. I really do love you.’

  He nodded, his smile making a dimple in his cheek. ‘You already know I love you.’

  During that one weekend, Dear Diary, we did so much, squeezing a whole courtship and honeymoon into two days and two nights.

  After our visit to the sand dunes, we caught a tram all the way to Central Blackpool and went to the Tower Ballroom for a couple of hours, danced with one another and then picked up fish and chips and ate them out of newspaper on the way back to our honeymoon hotel.

  We rarely stopped talking, decided we would like to live in or near Blackpool and that as Jack was due to be going abroad, I would stay and work for Enid.

  ‘The good news is that I’ve always saved up, Molly, I’ve enough so we can rent our own place when I’m back home. We can find somewhere together if we need more room when the baby arrives.’

  ‘Dora mentioned they’ve decorated her sister Katherine’s room; she’s living in at Blackpool Hospital now whilst she trains as a nurse. It’s a lovely big room. We could take that on if you fancied?’

  ‘Good idea. You’d be out from under Enid’s roof, but still close to your friends – and work. Probably a good move with our baby on the way.’

  ‘And we could move a bit further north when you come home, just along the coast a bit?’

  We both liked that idea.

  With our chips eaten and our future mapped out, we walked along the prom but decided we would leave paddling in the sea until the weather warmed up a bit. The wind was bitingly cold, and we huddled together whilst walking back to our hotel for the second night of our honeymoon.

  Jack’s train was due to leave mid-morning on the Monday. Time sped up again, as it always does, and way too soon we hurried to the station platform.

  ‘I’ll write,’ I said. I could hear the train approaching as my new husband pulled me tightly against him, the intensity of his farewell kiss conveying love and his sorrow at the short time we’d spent together as man and wife.

  Tears ran across our faces, under my nose, leaving a salty trail. Then the shout of ‘All aboard!’ made it clear time had run out.

  ‘I love you so much.’

  He wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs before climbing onto the train.

  Leaning out of the window, he held my hand, his cigarette smoke floating up and across to join the steam building in the air, I thought my heart would break as a loud toot sounded and the train drew away, our fingers slipping apart.

  ‘Come home soon.’ I felt the strangest flicker of a movement in my stomach and put my palm there, still waving with my other hand. ‘Are you waving to your daddy, too?’ I whispered, feeling so sad.

  So very sad to see him go.

  In my mind I heard Ella Fitzgerald’s ‘Every Time We Say Goodbye’. The song helped to remind me that it wasn’t only me saying goodbye. All along the platform, those left behind faced towards the departing train, until slowly, one by one, each turned away to take a deep breath and get on with their lives.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Molly

  Blackpool, Friday March 17, 1944

  My Dear Diary, Dora is going to ask Matt if there is any way he can get hold of blank sheets of paper for me to trim to size and stitch into my notebook because the shortages now even extend to paper and I’m running out of pages. I’m having to write smaller and smaller. I think I would go crazy if I couldn’t write out my feelings about how much I love Jack, so I can rough out my letters before I copy them out neat.

  It was a relief to move out from under Enid’s roof, my Dear Diary. Somehow, going into work and returning to a room at Dora’s that I will share with Jack, was much better than being at Enid’s constant beck and call by living in at the Bing Lea.

  Best of all, it feels like a fresh start, the start of being married and expecting Jack’s baby. Dora and her dad helped me to move a nice big double bed they had stored in their loft into what used to be Katherine’s room and Dora and I spend many an hour sitting on it, chattering, sharing ideas from magazines about how to make do and mend clothes to give them a new lease of life.

  Jack continues to write regularly, mostly short but reassuring letters, all of which I treasure, read and read again, and then stitch in here so they’ll be kept safe and I can look at them all whenever I need to.

  Blackpool, Tuesday May 9, 1944

  My Dear Molly,

  * * *

  I wish I could write and tell you when I can visit, but sadly, I don’t know when that will be, but I hope it will be soon, even if it’s only for a very brief time. I think about you a lot and hope you’re not working too hard and you and our baby are keeping well. I’ve got to go now, sorry this is so short, I love you and look forward to seeing you and holding you tight again soon.

  * * *

  From your husband,

  * * *

  All my love,

  * * *

  Jack.

  I swing between happiness at being married and anxiety about whether Jack will return safely home. Every time an RAF plane flies overhead, I watch and wonder; is Jack flying in that aircraft? Does he know the flight crew? Is he stationed with them?

  Always, I send a prayer up to the planes, for Jack, for them all.

  How vulnerable they look up there.

  I wrote my response out in here first.

  I re-live our wedding weekend often, and truly cannot wait until you come here again, and this war is over, and we can be together properly.

  * * *

  I should have the photos from Matt this coming weekend, he says. I’m looking forward to seeing them and looking at them with you when you come home.

  * * *

  I need to go now to get ready to go over to Enid’s.

  * * *

  I love you. I will always love you. Please visit soon.

  * * *

  Please take care and keep safe.

  * * *

  Yours always,

  * * *

  Molly.

  Blackpool, Friday May 26, 1944

  ‘I still don’t see why you don’t live here in your old room in the attic.’ Enid spoke whilst giving the breakfast plates a vigorous wash. ‘I’m having to do a lot more at all hours of the day and night now you’re not here.’

  What did she expect me to say? She’d hit the nail on the head as to why I’d wanted to move out!

  Just doing this and just doing that used up hours of precious time – and energy.

  I took the soapy plate from her and dried it, and we carried on washing and drying in silence.

  ‘Something you haven’t told me?’ Enid raised her eyebrows and stared at my stomach.

  ‘Jack and I are expecting.’ I felt myself go on the defensive, expecting her to have a go at me.

  ‘Aye? Well, so long as you can keep working for your keep and paying your way for your digs at Marian’s.’

  I wanted to blurt that Jack was going to take care of all that when I couldn’t work anymore because of the baby. But somehow, I didn’t want to discuss it, or Jack. ‘It’ll be fine.’ I loaded the last of the dried plates into the cupboard.

  ‘Well, don’t hang around gawping, fill the bucket, Molly, and go and give them front windows a shine, they’re full of salt.’

  It was the last thing I wanted to do; I was feeling tired. But at least I’d be away from Enid. I grabbed the bucket and took myself outside to clean the salt off the front windows.

  It was refreshing to be outside after the damp warmth of the kitchen, the never-ending sound of Enid’s voice pecking at my sanity.

  Late hazy May sunshine cast a soft pale light across the front yard; I opened up the ladder and started at the top lights of the windows, washing then giving each window in turn a shine with a piece of crumpled newspaper. I’d grown hot, been at it for a while and almost finished when a voice interrupted my drifting thoughts.

  ‘Well, now that’s a pr
etty sight!’ Deep infectious laughter rumbled, and I gasped in response, twisted around and clapped my hands, dropping my rag, and wobbling precariously at the top of the step ladder.

  ‘Jack!’

  ‘I’ve come to rescue you from the workhouse, Mrs Blackshaw.’

  ‘Jack! I can’t believe you’re here!’

  I felt my silly happy grin take shape.

  Jack reached up to take the bucket from me and rescued the rag from the ground and set them by the door.

  ‘It’s so—’

  I never got to say, ‘Good to see you,’ because right there at the bottom of the ladder in the front yard, Jack’s arms closed around me and he lifted me into his arms. His mouth touched mine briefly at first and then he raised his head just a little and looked into my eyes, murmured my name then kissed me more deeply. His cheek was cool against my nose, the heat from his mouth a sensual contrast.

  I forgot where I was, that I was wearing a splashed, faded pinny, a headscarf, my oldest scruffiest cardigan, and not a scrap of lipstick.

  I could not have been happier.

  I thought to object and say we shouldn’t be kissing here, but I really didn’t care. It had been so long since he had held me and I wrapped my arms more tightly around him to keep him close.

  ‘Jack…’ I was hoarse. ‘We should go indoors. Come and say hello to Enid. Then I can show you our room at Marian’s. I’m due a break.’

  His smile at my words was enough to cause a hitch in my chest, and I just wanted to get closer to him and stay there.

  ‘Mrs Webster,’ Jack acknowledged Enid, who looked surprised to see him.

  ‘Didn’t expect you.’

  ‘It’s a quick visit, I’ve to travel back tomorrow. Any chance you could give Molly time off so we can enjoy a short spell together?’

  I wanted to laugh because Enid looked shocked at Jack’s direct approach. ‘Well, I…’

  ‘I’d really appreciate it, Mrs Webster. We both would.’

  ‘Well…’ She looked at a loss for a moment. ‘If you nip round to Lilian’s digs and ask if she’ll work for you—’

  ‘Will do! Thanks, Mother.’ I didn’t hesitate, just tugged on Jack’s hand so we could leave before she changed her mind.

  ‘And to think I always thought you were the quiet one.’

  He squeezed my hand and smiled that lovely smile down at me.

  ‘I am. Until I really want something.’

  Before going home to Marian and Bill’s, we hurried over to Lilian’s on the next road to ask her if she’d fill in until the following evening.

  ‘I’d be glad to, I’m saving up,’ she said.

  ‘Great.’ Jack pulled a ten bob note from his pocket and shoved it into Lilian’s palm. ‘That’s thanks from me, Lilian, for doing this at such short notice.’

  ‘Crikey, thanks!’

  We hurried home then; Jack having surprised me yet again.

  On our way through the kitchen, we let Marian know what was going on and she clapped her floury hands together. ‘Oh lovely, I’ll make this pie a bit bigger, then! Join us for a spot of tea later on to celebrate?’

  We said we’d love to and then I showed Jack our room.

  ‘This is big.’

  It was. The bay window was huge and let in pale yellow sunlight, and the double bed, wardrobe and dressing table left plenty of room to put a cot when it was needed. There was even a sink in the corner. ‘I love living here, it’s much more relaxed than living with Enid.’

  ‘They’re good folk,’ Jack agreed and said, ‘I’ll nip and settle up with Marian so it’s not playing on my mind.’

  He was only gone a short time, and when Marian’s happy exclamation made it through the open bedroom door, it made me laugh.

  ‘I’ve some photos of our wedding day you haven’t seen.’ I couldn’t wait to show him.

  We lay side by side, propped against the pillows, Jack looking slowly through the small stack of photos. ‘This is like the one you posted to me.’ We were in profile, laughing into one another’s faces.

  ‘Matt got me two copies of it so I could send one to you.’

  After he’d looked through them all, he said, ‘This is my favourite.’ It was the same one I’d posted to him.

  ‘Molly,’ he said, his hand resting on my stomach, ‘did our baby just move?’

  ‘Did you see?’

  ‘I did. Your frock moved.’

  We both laughed.

  ‘Likes to wait until I relax and then starts wriggling about!’

  Jack looked suitably impressed. ‘Incredible to believe there’s a little person in there.’

  The whole day, my Dear Diary, felt like a wonderful bonus. We talked and embraced like the new lovers we were and after tea we went for a walk to the Tower, accompanied by Dora and Matt, to have a dance for a while, to enjoy being out and about; and knowing we’d be going home together was the best part of all.

  I had the sense that I was still getting to know Jack and that everything new I learned about him built on what I was beginning to find out – that Jack was just as much fun as his brother had been, yet he was different with it. He had a quiet confidence about him that was compelling and when he wanted something, he didn’t beat about the bush – he asked for it, or went for it, but quietly. No fanfare.

  The Tower band played a fast number and we went to stand at the side of the dance floor and take a break.

  I heard a low moan in my own throat as none other than Denis strolled up. I felt Jack’s arm close around my waist; it felt as if he was protecting and supporting me all at once.

  ‘Who’s this, then?’ Denis raised his chin, nodded towards Jack. ‘Your glory boy?’

  ‘Denis, this is Jack Blackshaw. My husband.’ Pride welled up in me and I admit to enjoying the jolt of shock on Denis’s belligerent features.

  He nodded whilst this sank in and inclined his head towards Jack, his eyes glittering with spite. ‘Let him get away with all of his philandering then, did you?’

  ‘I saw sense,’ Jack interrupted before I could respond. ‘And I think that’s between me and Molly, pal, nothing to do with you. Right?’

  My eyes opened yet again to another facet of Jack. He wasn’t afraid of standing his ground, even taking responsibility for what his brother had done in playing around, in order to protect our marriage. And our secret.

  ‘A leopard doesn’t change his spots.’ Denis shook his head as if he didn’t believe Jack.

  ‘It’d be a good time for you to leave, buddy. I’ll be tempted to take you outside and knock your spots off if you don’t.’

  ‘Like to see you try.’ Again, Denis cocked his chin at Jack.

  Jack laughed. ‘It can be arranged, but I think you and I have enough on with fighting the huns.’

  Denis stilled; his features morphed to less confrontational. ‘Happen you’re right. But if I see you being unfaithful again, make no mistake, I will tell Molly.’

  ‘Deal.’ Jack extended his hand and surprisingly, Denis reluctantly took it.

  Denis didn’t hang around afterwards.

  ‘How did you do that?’ I shook my head. ‘You amaze me every time you open your mouth!’

  Jack shrugged, unfazed, as if unaware he had done anything much. The music had slowed, and he led me back onto the dance floor.

  My Dear Diary, I have to share that I felt as if I was the luckiest woman alive when he held me and we danced…

  Chapter Sixteen

  Izzie

  Blackpool, Thursday August 10, 2017

  ‘I’ve brought these books round to see if you’d like them?’ Izzie asked Justin’s mum, Linda.

  ‘Oh lovely, come in, Izzie, have you time for a cuppa?’

  ‘Yes please, I’ve hit a brick wall scraping off wallpaper in the hallway. It comes off in stamp-size chunks – and not very quickly.’

  Linda laughed and gestured for her to step indoors. ‘Books, you say?’

  The two of them went into the kitchen and Izzie
set the books on the edge of the table. ‘They were Nan’s from Rufus, if you’d like them?’ She laid her hand atop the hardback books. ‘I’ve got a set at the house in West Hampstead, so it seems daft not to share them.’

  ‘I’m sure Robert will love them, thanks, chick. You know what a bookworm he is.’

  Just then, the new French door on the back of the kitchen flew open and Robert entered, waving a shoe around. ‘All fixed, Lindy, and the glue’s set now.’

  ‘Ah, my master of all trades.’ She reached another cup down from the cupboard, and explained. ‘Izzie’s struggling with all the layers of wallpaper in Molly’s hallway.’

  ‘Hold it right there!’ Robert raised the flat of his hand in the air. ‘I have just the thing!’ Tall and slender, Robert about turned and marched back out of the French door and disappeared to his workshop in the garage.

  He returned with something that resembled a small spaceship. ‘It’s a steamer, gets wallpaper off a treat.’ He explained how to use it, and demonstrated using the wide paddle that fixed on the end of a pipe, by holding it flat against the wall whilst the steam piped to beneath the paddle permeated the layers of paper. ‘Works best if you scuff the paper up a bit first to give the steam chance to get under the paper.’

  ‘Brilliant! Can’t wait to get started!’

  Robert reiterated what Justin had told her, that they had the phone number of a good decorator if she wanted help.