Home is Where the Heart Is
1945. Finally, peace has been declared. Cathie hardly dares believe that Alex, the fiancé she has not seen for nearly two years, is coming home. And, finally, life can begin again for Cathie and the orphaned baby in her care.But the Alex who returns is not the kind, loving man Cathie remembers. He’s cold, selfish, sometimes even frightening. So Cathie has a choice: stand by him, and try to contain his violent temper? Or hold her tiny baby close…and run from the man she has yearned for.Home is Where the Heart Is is a heart-wrenchingly, poignant new saga from Freda Lightfoot, set in the aftermath of World War II.
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Born in Lancashire, FREDA LIGHTFOOT has been a teacher and a bookseller, and in a mad moment even tried her hand at the ‘good life’. A prolific and much-loved saga writer, Freda’s work is inspired by memories of her Lancashire childhood and her passion for history. For more information about Freda, visit her website: www.fredalightfoot.co.uk
Historical Sagas
LAKELAND LILY
THE BOBBIN GIRLS
THE FAVOURITE CHILD
KITTY LITTLE
FOR ALL OUR
TOMORROWS
GRACIE’S SIN
DAISY’S SECRET
RUBY MCBRIDE
DANCING ON
DEANSGATE
WATCH FOR THE
TALLEYMAN
POLLY’S PRIDE
POLLY’S WAR
HOUSE OF ANGELS
ANGELS AT WAR
THE PROMISE
MY LADY DECEIVER
The Luckpenny Series
LUCKYPENNY LAND
WISHING WATER
LARKRIGG FELL
Poorhouse Lane Series
THE GIRL FROM
POORHOUSE LANE
THE WOMAN FROM
HEARTBREAK HOUSE
Champion Street Market Series
PUTTING ON THE STYLE
FOOLS FALL IN LOVE
THAT’LL BE THE DAY
CANDY KISSES
WHO’S SORRY NOW
LONELY TEARDROPS
Women’s Contemporary Fiction
TRAPPED
Historical Romances
MADEIRAN LEGACY
WHISPERING SHADOWS
RHAPSODY CREEK
PROUD ALLIANCE
OUTRAGEOUS
FORTUNE
Biographical Historical
HOSTAGE QUEEN
RELUCTANT QUEEN
THE QUEEN AND THE
COURTESAN
THE DUCHESS OF
DRURY LANE
LADY OF PASSION
Table of Contents
Also by Freda Lightfoot
1945
Cathie gave a squeal of joy as she read the letter that had arrived that morning. ‘Alex is coming home!’ she cried. She’d waited so long for this news she couldn’t quite believe it. It must be nearly two years since she’d last seen her fiancé and now the war was over he’d be home for good, at last. She quickly scanned the letter again to make sure she’d read it correctly. ‘He says he hopes to be home by Christmas.’
There was no one to hear her exciting news except for the baby, bouncing up and down on her chubby little legs in her cot, holding fast to the rail and giving a happy gurgle as if to echo Cathie’s delight.
Gathering the child in her arms, Cathie screwed up her nose and chuckled. ‘I think you need changing, sweetie.’ But even as she smiled into the baby’s soft blue eyes, her own filled with tears. ‘Oh, I do wish your mummy was here, and your daddy, of course. It’s so desperately sad that you’ll never get to know or love them. I shall tell you all about them as you grow, of course. Particularly Sally, my dear sister, who loved you so much, and was very much a part of my life.’
At least a baby did not experience the pain of grief that she had suffered, Cathie thought, as she laid the infant on a towel-covered table to strip off the wet nappy and set about cleaning her plump little bottom.
What a dreadful war it had been. First her sister had lost her beloved husband, who’d gone down with his ship in August 1944 when it had been sunk by a U-boat. Tony had never even learned his wife was pregnant, let alone seen his child. As if that wasn’t bad enough, her mind flew back to that dreadful day, barely a month after the birth of her beautiful daughter, when Sal had gone with her friend Rose to the Gaumont Cinema on Oxford Road to see Judy Garland in Meet Me in St Louis. Cathie might well have accompanied them, but somebody needed to stay home and look after the baby. She’d happily volunteered for the task as she hoped the film might lift her sister’s depression. Still enveloped in grief, Sal had been in desperate need of an afternoon out.
Cathie had been happily sitting feeding little Heather with her bottle when the door had burst open. She’d glanced up with a smile, fully expecting to see her sister now that dusk was falling. Instead, she saw their mother standing rigid, her face as white as a ghost.
‘She’s gone.’
Cathie recalled how something inside her had jolted as she’d stared in shock at Rona. ‘Who has?’
‘Our Sal.’
Her memory became a blur after that, as a cold numbness came over her. Cathie had felt strangely detached. Everything went silent, even the sound of children playing in the street, and the odd passing car or motorcycle. It was as if she was standing outside of herself, watching as she gently set down the baby’s bottle and patted little Heather’s back to settle her tummy while the horror of what Rona was saying slowly penetrated.
It seemed that on their way home the driver had lost control on the icy roads and the bus had tipped into an old bomb crater, killing many on board, including her beloved sister.
Now the pain of her loss resonated afresh as, staring out of the window, Cathie watched two young women walking arm-in-arm past the bomb-damaged houses opposite, laughing and chattering. The pair reminded her so much of how she and Sal used to step out together, whether as young girls trotting off to school, or grown women going shopping or to a dance together. So many treasured memories.
