London Pride by Beryl Kingston

they stopped by the hawthorn hedge where there was a clear view across the valley to Tillingbourne Manor, neat as a doll’s house on the opposite hillside.
    â€˜I look out for you every morning, you know,’ Joan said, squeezing Peggy’s arm.
    â€˜Do you?’
    â€˜Every morning.’
    â€˜Can you see us?’ Peggy said, amazed by the thought.
    â€˜I can see your red beret walking along behind the hedge.’ And every time she saw it she felt weak with homesickness. But she couldn’t tell Peggy that because she was only little and it would upset her.
    â€˜I shall wave tomorrow,’ Peggy promised. ‘An’ every morning after. Right here. By this big tree.’
    â€˜That’s an oak,’ Joan said. ‘Cook’s been teaching me. How are things at home?’
    â€˜All right,’ Peggy said. ‘Mum gets shirty sometimes.’ It was cold in the cottage and uncomfortable and full of tensions she didn’t like and couldn’t understand, but shedidn’t think she ought to say so. Not now that Joan was in service because it might upset her, and that wouldn’t be kind. ‘What’s it like working in a kitchen?’
    â€˜It’s not so bad,’ Joan said, but she had to change that subject quickly too in case talking about it made her cry. Now that she was home again she realized there was rather a lot she couldn’t say. ‘Tell me about school. I bet they don’t learn you much.’
    â€˜There’s a swimming-pool in the field at the back,’ Peggy said, glad to find a topic that wouldn’t upset either of them. ‘You pay a shillin’ when it opens, which is May, I think, an’ they let you go swimming all through the summer. What d’you think a’ that? If we’re still here after Christmas I’m going to run errands with the others and save up for it. Only I don’t suppose we shall still be here, shall we?’ And she looked up hopefully at her big sister.
    â€˜If you ask me we shall still be here the Christmas
after
next,’ Joan said. ‘She don’t mean to move, does she?’
    That was too awful for Peggy to contemplate so she changed the subject. ‘Will they let you home for Christmas?’ she asked.
    â€˜Shouldn’t think so,’ Joan said importantly. ‘The whole Bromwich family’s coming down, the Captain and his wife and Miss Amelia and Master Toby and everybody. We’re cooking a turkey an’ a goose an’ a sirloin a’ beef. I ‘spect they’ll let us off afterwards though. In the New Year.’
    It made Peggy feel sad to think that they would be apart at Christmas time, but she didn’t say anything about that either, because she could see that Joan was putting on a brave face.
    â€˜I shall see you at midnight mass,’ Joan promised. ‘We’re all coming down to the church at Tillingbourne for that.’
    But it wouldn’t be the same, Peggy thought sadly, because they wouldn’t be in the Tower, and they wouldn’t be with Dad. It would be sad like it had been at the procession. And she missed him with the same dreadful lurching sensation she’d felt so terribly when he died. Dear, dear Dad. Christmas would be awful without him. ‘It’s ever so cold,’ she said, shivering.
    â€˜Let’s make tracks,’ Joan said.

CHAPTER 6
    The family pig lived in a sty behind the chicken run. Actually, according to Aunt Maud he was only half theirs because they owned him jointly with Mr and Mrs Matthews next door, which seemed rather odd, but he was an amiable animal however much they owned of him. At first Peggy had been rather wary of him because he had mean little eyes like Grandpa and an enormous chomping mouth and a habit of barging the side of the sty as though he was going to knock it down, but as the days passed, she realized there was no malice in him at all and she became quite fond of