A Christmas Promise
An emotional and heart-warming portrayal of the lives of four women living in wartime London.For the girls living at No.13 Article Row, the war years have never been tougher…Tilly is heartbroken when Drew, the love of her life, returns to America and doesn’t come back. Tilly can’t believe that he would break their solemn promise to love each other for ever. Olive. Tilly’s mother, knows the real reason that he has never been in touch but fears the truth will hurt her daughter even more.For Tilly’s friends, Agnes and Sally, the war has also dealt them a cruel hand and, along with the rest of the country, they have had their share of pain. But they say that it is always darkest just before the dawn, so could it be that this war, and the girl’s fortunes, are finally beginning to turn?
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2013
Copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers 2013
Cover photograph © Colin Thomas (girl); UPPA/Photoshot (background)
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 2013
The Author hereby waives all moral rights in the Work.
Notwithstanding the foregoing, the Publishers undertake to include the Author’s name in all copies of the work.
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Source ISBN: 9780007361557
Ebook Edition © NOVEMBER 2013 ISBN: 9780007464289
Version: 2017-10-09
Contents
Copyright
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Acknowledgements
An Interview with Sheila Riley
About Annie Groves
Also by Annie Groves
About the Publisher
September 1943
‘Forty-eight hours’ embarkation leave.’
Tilly felt a thrill of excitement shoot through her veins. This was it: she had been accepted to do her war work abroad. It was what she had been hoping for since she had volunteered for overseas duties. So much had happened in the last few months that it seemed as if she had been on exercises in Wales for years. Not that she could or would discuss it with anybody, even her mother, but there was a lot going on in Whitehall right now. Her mother would have nightmares if she knew that the War Office was preparing for a second front that would end the conflict, one way or another, once and for all. Nor could she tell her mum about the nature of her foreign duties, which had just been confirmed with a tap on her shoulder by a high-ranking officer. But she had to put that to the back of her mind now.
She was so happy to be going home, especially now, and Rick said he would have leave, too.
‘Your leave starts now,’ said the chief commander. ‘Leave a contact number – but don’t bother about bringing back your bathing costumes. You may not be sent straight away.’
‘How droll,’ Janet said as they left the commander’s office. ‘Sunbathing, indeed! The beaches will be heavily fortified with barbed wire the same as here, no doubt.’
‘I know,’ said Tilly, aware that her leave would be tinged with sadness. She and the other three girls with whom she had trained, Veronica, Pru and Janet, had all volunteered for overseas duty. Every girl who offered to undertake such duties released a man for service elsewhere. The bonus was the excitement of being in some exotic foreign country for the winter instead of being stuck in foggy old London. Tilly and the other girls had been billeted close to Whitehall and her long hours meant that she rarely got home, but now, as the time to leave was drawing close, Tilly wasn’t so sure she had done the right thing, and foggy old London seemed not so bad after all. There was one consolation, however: some of the other ATS girls hadn’t been called up to go overseas for months.
A Few Days Earlier
‘Are you thinking of going back to Liverpool?’ Olive asked Sally as she scraped carrots for the evening meal at the brown, stone sink, before she went out to do her Women’s Voluntary Service work. Sally, her lodger, picked up another carrot and automatically began to do the same.
The two women enjoyed a catch-up in the kitchen when they got a chance, but as they both led busy lives, that hadn’t been often of late. However, Olive could see that Sally, as fidgety as a cat on a hot wall now, had something on her mind.
‘Is something the matter, Sally?’ Olive pressed her, the knife stilled in her hand as she studied the young nurse’s face. Sally looked tired, which was understandable; the whole country was tired – and sick of this war. But Olive could see in Sally’s eyes that it wasn’t just the war and the privations it brought that concerned her especially, nor was it like her to be secretive. Olive had noticed that she had talked a lot about her mother lately, much more than she had done in the past.
