a mention in the papers and not at all on the wireless.
Olive doubted Ted would have been ready to walk Agnes down the aisle while his mother still had breath in her body to disapprove, and that, Olive thought, was another thing she would keep her own counsel over, knowing Ted’s clingy mother and two young sisters depended upon him for everything.
‘Is Tilly still walking out with Dulcie’s brother, Rick?’
‘Are you training for military intelligence, Nancy?’ Olive asked, and immediately wanted to bite back the tart reply. She knew Nancy lived through the lives of others, maybe because she missed her daughter and two grandchildren more than she ever let on.
‘It was a shame about the American boy going home and not getting in touch again. They looked the ideal couple to me.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ Olive answered. She could feel the heat of guilt creep up her neck and suffuse her face. If she had let Tilly know that ‘the American boy’, as Nancy called Drew, was here in London, her daughter would have been at his side like a shot. Despite the promise she had made to Drew’s father, after seeing the deep sorrow Tilly had suffered Olive wondered if she had done the right thing.
Sally had kept her informed as to his progress at St Barts, where Sally worked, and she knew that Drew didn’t want Tilly to see him confined to a hospital bed. ‘I’d have put good money on those two settling down together,’ Nancy continued, annoying Olive as she busied herself with everybody else’s business.
‘Tilly and Rick are walking out together, yes, and they seem very happy.’ Olive was quite pleased to talk about her daughter, although she must be getting on soon.
‘Is he still blind then?’ Nancy asked without preamble, making Olive wince at such tactlessness. How awful it would be if Rick, or even Dulcie, heard Nancy being so cavalier about Rick’s injuries, sustained while he was serving in North Africa last year.
But, sensing that her bluntness was intended to shock, Olive ignored her initial feelings of astonishment and said patiently, ‘Thankfully Rick has regained his sight, Nancy, and is even talking of going back into the army … but only to a desk job, mind.’
‘That’s a good thing,’ Nancy said, nodding., ‘He was such a good-looking young man. Such a shame …’
‘He’s still good-looking, and he’s on the mend now,’ Olive said with a hint of indignation. ‘He loves being a part of the army and can’t wait to get back.’ She knew Rick and Dulcie hadn’t had much of a home life but they had both found their own way now, especially since the war started. ‘He’s volunteered to go back, hoping to get the all clear from the medics any day now.’ Olive felt slightly peeved on Rick’s behalf.
‘I can’t say it did any damage to that confident personality of his. He was having a fine old time at Dulcie’s wedding last year,’ Nancy sniffed.
‘That can only be a good thing when you’ve lost your sight, don’t you think, Nancy?’
‘Not really. He’s still as cocky – from what I saw the last time he came to visit you all.’
Olive knew her next-door neighbour would love to receive as many visitors as she herself had, and she was still of the opinion that Nancy would be so lucky if only she wasn’t so self-pitying, thinking she was the only one to suffer in this war, although Olive would never say it out loud.
Instead, she said brightly, ‘Dulcie’s coming over later in her motor car. She’s bringing her little daughter, Hope, and her sister Edith’s baby, Anthony, if you’d like to call in and see her.’
‘How come she’s got her sister’s child, then?’ Nancy was not in the least disconcerted to ask such personal questions.
In turn, Olive found herself automatically answering, ‘Edith works is a singer in a West End theatre. She works funny hours and so Dulcie offered to have the little boy …’
‘That’s nice for her,’ Nancy said as her nostrils flared like there was a bad smell under her nose. Olive wasn’t sure who it was nice for, Dulcie or Edith.
‘I’ll see how busy I am,’ Nancy sniffed, but Olive knew she wouldn’t miss Dulcie’s babies, and that her neighbour would be out like a flash when the James-Thompsons’Bentley rolled down the Row.
‘I haven’t seen much of Archie these days either …’ Nancy said, making Olive think that her neighbour wanted to chat all morning. ‘What’s he up to these days?’
‘Nancy, you are like the News of the World; you should have got a job in Fleet Street!’
‘Maybe I could have asked the American chap, Drew, was it?’ Olive knew every well that Nancy remembered the name of Tilly’s sweetheart, and she was irritated as the flush of guilt again ran through her veins and caused a small pain around her heart.
‘Here,’ Nancy said in low, conspiratorial tones, ‘talking of Sunday papers, I read that an airman who lived in Belgravia came home early to surprise his wife and got the surprise of his life when he caught her in fragrance with another man – and guess what he did after throwing her out?’
Olive decided it was easier not to correct her neighbour and tell her she meant in flagrante.
‘What did he do, Nancy?’ Olive was curious to hear what Nancy had to say that she hadn’t invented herself.
‘He only went and gave all her belongings – clothes, jewellery, and fur coats – the lot, to charity.’
‘Nooo,’ Olive said, her eyes wide. ‘Fancy doing that – and what happened then?’ Olive, being naturally curious, didn’t mind the odd bit of gossip, as long as it was about somebody she didn’t know and it wasn’t malicious.
‘I don’t know,’ said Nancy. ‘The paper was wrapped around Mr Black’s chip supper, and they didn’t wrap both pages – to save paper, I expect.’
Olive couldn’t recall the last time she had bought a chip supper, even though it was one of the only foods that were not rationed.
‘Maybe Archie still has the newspaper. I’ll ask him later.’
‘I thought he looked nice and comfortable sitting at your kitchen table the other night, when I called around, Olive.’ Nancy was fishing for information now, Olive could tell, but she wasn’t going to fill her neighbour’s mouth so she could spread it around the district.
‘He comes to pick Barney up after work,’ Olive said noncommittally.
‘In his carpet slippers?’ Nancy’s eyebrows rose so high on her forehead Olive imagined they were in danger of slipping right past her hair line. She felt uncomfortable when her neighbour began to delve into her private business, as Nancy could not keep her opinions, or any knowledge she had expertly winkled from unsuspecting people, to herself.
However, Olive, wise to her wheedling ways, told Nancy as little as possible, especially where Archie was concerned, knowing he liked to keep their private life just that – private! That was fine with Olive, who, as a widow, had never had the benefit of a man’s admiration until now, and she wasn’t going to do anything that would upset her Archie.
She could feel her face flaming in the morning sunshine: ‘her’ Archie; when did she become so bold as to think such a thing? Although, Olive knew she would never say so out loud she felt that Archie felt the same way, even though they had never so much as …
‘Did you hear me, Olive?’ Nancy asked. She had taken great delight in the past in spreading malicious gossip about the police sergeant and widower. Archie was the kindest, most upstanding man Olive knew.
‘Sorry, Nancy, did you say something?’ Olive was momentarily disoriented.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Nancy was obviously put out at her lack of attention. ‘You were miles away.’
‘If only,’ Olive said in a