Across the Mersey - Annie Groves [78]
‘I’d love to, Teddy, but Mum will be expecting me to help her at home,’ Grace told him regretfully. ‘Here’s my bus,’ she added. ‘I’d better go …’
He caught her off guard when he suddenly put his arm around her and drew her to him, then kissed her on the cheek.
‘It’s all right, I’m not going to take liberties with you,’ he told her gruffly as he released her. ‘Not that I’m saying that I wouldn’t like to kiss you properly, mind,’ cos I would.’
There wasn’t time for her to say anything; all she could do was let him walk her to join the queue already boarding her bus.
TWELVE
‘Roller skates.’
‘No, new gramophone records.’
The twins, giddy with the excitement of it being Christmas Eve, were giggling as they tried to outdo each other with what they hoped to find under the Christmas tree.
‘I wouldn’t mention gramophone records in front of Dad,’ Grace warned them, ‘not after him telling you off last night for all the noise you were making.’
‘Dad doesn’t understand, Grace. You’ve got to play them loudly,’ Sasha explained patiently. ‘Otherwise it doesn’t work, does it, Lou?’
‘Otherwise what doesn’t work?’ Grace asked them, putting her head on one side to study the effect of the candles she had just finished clipping onto the branches of the Christmas tree Dad had brought home from the market earlier in the week.
‘That thing that happens inside your head when you’re dancing that make you forget everything else. You need to have the music really loud.’
‘When you were our age did you ever want to be a singer like Auntie Francine, Grace?’ Lou asked her.
‘No, never,’ she said truthfully. ‘And if I were you two, I’d put that idea right out of my head,’ cos Dad would never agree to you going on the stage.’
The twins exchanged looks whilst Grace sighed over her attempts to decorate the Christmas tree. No matter how careful she was, the weight of the candles in their clip-on holders kept making the branches bow and spoiling the symmetry of what she was trying to achieve.
‘Proper fairy lights would be better,’ Lou told her.
‘Well, yes, but they aren’t as pretty. Anyway, what are you two doing in here? I thought you were supposed to be making paper chains?’
‘We were, but the taste of the gum was making us feel sick. Come on, Gracie, tell us what you’ve bought for us …’ Sasha wheedled.
‘It isn’t slippers, is it?’ Lou asked suspiciously, ‘only it feels very light for such a big box.’
Grace hid a small smile. She had deliberately put the record she had bought them into a box she had packed carefully with paper so as to disguise it.
‘What’s wrong with slippers?’ she teased them, keeping her face straight.
‘Grace, have you got a minute, only I could do with you to give me a hand making the stuffing,’ called her mother from the kitchen.
‘Coming, Mum.’ Grace got up.
The kitchen was full of steam and the familiar delicious smells of Christmas – only this Christmas wasn’t going to be the same as the ones she remembered, Grace acknowledged. Luke wouldn’t be with them, and they were at war, even though as yet nothing had really changed apart from the blackout, which everyone was grumbling had caused more accidents and been more of a nuisance than Hitler.
‘I went and telephoned our Vi this morning from the corner shop,’ Jean told Grace, having instructed her to grate the bread she had dried out in the oven for breadcrumbs for the stuffing. ‘I thought she might have changed her mind about Jack being evacuated and had got him back home with it being Christmas, but she hasn’t.’ Jean gave a small sigh.
She had been worrying about Jack ever since Vi had announced that he was sending him off to the country, but she knew how stubborn her twin could be once her back was up, so she had held off from saying too much, knowing that Vi would tell her that the arrangements she and Edwin made for Jack weren’t anyone else’s business.
‘What, she’s not even having him home for Christmas?’ Grace asked indignantly.
‘She wants him to be safe, love, that’s why she