Always in My Heart by Ellie Dean Page A

collapsed with a grunt of pleasure in front of the fire, Ron pulled off his woolly hat and rubbed his hands through his thick, greyinghair. ‘I suppose the air raid had you out of bed, eh, Peggy?’
    ‘You could say that,’ she replied as she eyed him with deep suspicion. He was up to something, she knew the signs. ‘I thought I heard Jim come in with you?’
    ‘Aye, that he did, Peg, but he’s takin’ a wee rest. You see,’ he said with a hint of a snigger, ‘he’s had a bit of an afternoon, so he has.’
    Peggy rose from the chair and deposited Daisy carefully in the old family pram, covered her with a blanket and then turned to face Ron again. She folded her arms. ‘What have you two been up to?’ she asked darkly. ‘And don’t bother lying to me, Ronan Reilly, I can always tell when you’re hiding something.’
    ‘’Twas not me had the adventure,’ protested Ron. He stuffed the woolly hat into his trouser pockets and reached for the teapot. ‘He’s feeling a wee bit sorry for himself,’ he said, clearly trying not to laugh. ‘Perhaps it would be best if you asked him what’s happened.’
    She frowned as he refused to look at her. ‘Have you both been drinking?’ she asked, her tone ominously even – a warning to anyone who knew her that she was not to be messed with.
    ‘Not at all,’ he replied, his eyes wide and innocent as he looked at her over the teacup.
    Peggy turned on her heel and marched into the hall. ‘I don’t know what you and Ron have been up to, Jim Reilly,’ she said as she reached for the door handle, ‘but I aim to get to the bottom …’
    Words failed her as the door swung open to reveal a naked and rather battered Jim examining his backside in her dressing-table mirror.
    ‘To be sure, Peg, me darling, I’ve burned me arse something terrible. Can you see how bad it is?’
    Peggy shut the door, eyed his blackened face and cuts and bruises, and then examined the reddened buttocks and singed hair. ‘What the hell have you been doing, Jim?’
    He eyed her mournfully and told her about the bomb blowing him off the lavatory seat.
    Peggy tried very hard to keep a straight face as she murmured words of sympathy and took another look at his reddened bottom. ‘Well, you’ll find sitting down a bit painful for a while,’ she managed. ‘I’ll get you some cream to put on it.’ Her voice wavered as the giggles threatened.
    Jim turned away in disgust, grabbed her hand-mirror, and tried to examine his nether regions more closely. ‘To be sure I’d’ve expected some sympathy from me wife,’ he muttered. ‘Why is it that everyone thinks it’s funny when a man’s been almost blown to bits and has a sore arse to prove it?’
    ‘It’s not funny at all,’ she spluttered as she fought to hold back the laughter.
    Jim glowered as he put down the hand-mirror, and then a twinkle came into his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched. ‘It was a hell of a shock,’ he admitted. ‘One minute I was reading me paper and the next I was flying. I came to without a stitch on.’
    He began to chuckle. ‘I felt a right fool – and when I heard the fire engines coming I clambered over the wall and hid.’
    Peggy saw him wince as he pulled on his dressing gown and carefully sat on the bed beside her. Sober now, she reached for his hand. ‘I’m just so relieved you weren’t killed,’ she murmured.
    He put his arm round her and held her close as he kissed the top of her head. ‘I can see the funny side of it now,’ he admitted, ‘and once I’ve had a long soak in the bath I’ll be fine. But you know what this means, don’t you, Peg?’
    She looked back at him and shook her head.
    ‘With the cinema gone and me stash of fags and whisky blown sky high, I’m out of money as well as a job. Unless I can find something worthwhile, the army will soon send me my call-up papers.’
    Peggy snuggled closer to his side, her head on his shoulder as her thoughts whirled and the worries