Sweet Memories of You (Beach View Boarding House) by Ellie Dean

should jolly well hope so at his age. Good heavens.’
    ‘I didn’t mean that sort of honourable,’ he blustered. ‘I meant that he’s a well-set-up sort of chap, with a nice house and a good pension. He’s not after Cordelia’s money, if that’s what’s worrying you.’
    It had rather, but she wasn’t going to tell Ted that. She said goodbye and headed home. There was a lot to do before she had to get to the Town Hall for her afternoon shift with the WVS.

5
London
    Doreen gripped Archie’s sturdy arm and tried to keep up with him as they picked their way through the rubble in the blackout. Her mind was full of warm memories of the hours they’d spent in that hotel bedroom, and yet her bubble of happiness slowly deflated as they neared the station, for these would be the last few precious hours they would spend together until he was home on leave again. The week had passed so quickly; it didn’t seem possible that before the night was out his ship would set sail and she would be heading back to Kent.
    ‘I don’t know about you, Doreen, but I’m starving,’ he boomed as they came to an eel and pie shop. He looked down at her, his blue eyes twinkling with merriment as he made no effort to lower his voice. ‘It must be all that exercise we’ve had today.’
    Doreen blushed and giggled as she swiftly glanced round to see if anyone had overheard him. ‘Shh, you. I don’t want half of London to hear what we’ve been up to.’
    He dropped his kitbag and enfolded her in his arms, lifting her from the cracks and potholes in the pavement so he could plant a soft kiss on her lips. ‘I don’t care if the whole world knows how much I love you,’ he murmured before gently setting her back on her feet and lightly smacking her bottom. ‘Come on, girl, time you had a proper East End supper.’
    Doreen reluctantly followed him into the empty café. Blackout covered the window and the glass in the door, but the light was bright inside. Jellied eels were laid out in dishes, pies were being kept warm above the fryer, a great pot of mushy peas was simmering on a gas ring, and the delicious smell of vinegar and fried potato made her mouth water. ‘I’ll just have chips,’ she said.
    He eyed her with amusement, his gaze travelling from her dark, curly hair, over her slender body and down to the sensible shoes, scuffed from walking the streets of the East End. ‘I’ll keep an eye on your figure, never you mind. At least have a pie and peas with the chips. You can’t visit this neck of the woods without giving it a go.’
    ‘What’s in the pie?’
    The woman behind the counter seemed to take offence at this and glared back at her. ‘Spam and spud. There is a war, on yer know.’
    Doreen stuck with chips while Archie ordered just about everything on offer, and the woman winked at him before fishing out a bottle of beer from under the counter. ‘I always keep some by for our boys,’ she said, plonking it on the counter. ‘On the ’ouse, love.’ She tapped the side of her nose with a grubby finger.
    Doreen would have liked a beer, but it seemed she was not to be included in this generosity, so she asked for a cup of tea. When their food was ready, they carried the plates to a nearby table and sat down. She shuddered as she eyed the slimy jellied eel mounded on Archie’s plate next to the suspiciously green mushy peas, the pie and the pile of fat, greasy chips. She honestly didn’t know how he could eat such a very odd concoction.
    He seemed oblivious to her sensibilities and ate his way methodically through his food while she nibbled on her rather soggy chips. He finally wiped the plate clean with a slab of unbuttered wheatmeal bread and sat back. ‘That’s better,’ he sighed. ‘We don’t get food half as good on board ship.’
    ‘We certainly don’t get eel and pie in Halstead,’ she replied, giving up on the unappetising chips.
    ‘That’s because they’re all soft in Kent – don’t have the