The War Widows
When you lose everything you love, you need a friend…Nothing ever happens in sleepy Grimbleton. Until two strangers - both claiming to be the fiancée of a dead soldier - arrive in town.Susan prides herself on her refined 'English' manners - yet her airs and graces hide harrowing memories of her escape from war-torn Burma.Volatile Ana pines for the sunshine of her Greek village - but is forever haunted by her sister's death at the hands of the Nazis'.Enemies at first, Su and Ana soon find themselves united in grief at the loss of Freddie Winstanley - the father of both their children.Freddie's sister Lily takes the women under her wing and soon the circle of friends expands to include Italian Maria, torn between her invalid husband and another man, and uppercrust Diana, whose jolly exterior conceals a secret sorrow.Supported by this new-found sisterhood, Lily dares to dream of spreading her wings away from her domineering family and spineless fiancé.But each woman's courage is soon sorely tested. Can they help each other to find happiness after the heartache of war?
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LEAH FLEMING
The War Widows
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.
AVON
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
Copyright © Leah Fleming 2008
Leah Fleming asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9781847560131
Ebook Edition © 2009 ISBN: 9780007334971 Version: 2018-06-19
For Jan, Madeleine, Menna, Lyneth, April, Kathryn and all the Lichfield Register friends, past and present.
‘We have eaten bread and salt together, sorrows and joys shared…’
Contents
Chapter 3 - An Unexpected Legacy
Chapter 4 - The Leftover Brides
Chapter 5 - The Day War Broke Out Again
Chapter 6 - Farewell to Freddie
Chapter 7 - The Olive Oil Hunt
Chapter 9 - Balancing Books and Entertaining Angels
Chapter 10 - Invitations to a Feast
Chapter 11 - Susan to the Rescue
Chapter 12 - The Olive Oil Club
Chapter 13 - A Dickens of a Christmas
Chapter 14 - Dancing in the Snow
Chapter 16 - The Joys of a Family
Chapter 17 - Cinderellas in Ballgowns
Chapter 19 - Changing the Guard
Chapter 20 - A Bit of Blackpool Air
Chapter 21 - Here Comes The Bride
Chapter 22 - Dancing in the Park
Chapter 24 - A Brief Encounter Moment
August 1947
Her big day was here at last, after all those years of daydreaming how it would be. The bride opened one eye and peered over her bedroom. It felt as if she’d been courting sleep all night and not a wink in her direction. But what sort of girl slept like a top on the eve of her wedding anyway? Except hers was the wakefulness of the wary, not the excitement of a nervous bride.
‘Bless the Bride’ was the popular song that went round and round in her head like a needle stuck on a gramophone record.
Her eyes skimmed across the room to where the outfit was hanging on the back of the door; not the white slub satin, cut on the bias, with beaded sweetheart neck the family would expect, nor the fancy rig-out that Princess Elizabeth would be wearing to parade down the aisle of Westminster Abbey in November. The linen two-piece suit was sensible, fit for the simplicity of Zion Chapel and all the dos thereafter. It would get a lifetime of wear and probably be cut down into cushion covers or a kiddy’s party dress one day. This was 1947, after all, and there were few coupons to lavish on new clothing when there was a home to furnish.
It was just that she didn’t feel like a new bride-or a shop-soiled one either-and pink was not really her normal shade, but it would brighten up a grey Division Street for the few minutes it was on show.
Her ensemble was a modest Grimbleton version of the New Look that was all the rage in Paris, with its tight-fitted jacket and full skirt to her calf.
A year ago, she would never have imagined herself wearing anything so daring.
A year ago, she hadn’t even known the women who’d sewn it up, embroidered the lapels and sorted her matching gloves, hat and shoes with such loving care.
A year ago, they would’ve been just strangers’ faces in a crowded street.
A year ago, she would have chosen Glacier Mint white or caramel cream, not rose pink. What a colour to put on Lily May Winstanley!
She sank back down onto the bed with a deep sigh, burying her head under the eiderdown, not ready to face the morning. Who would she be at the end of this momentous day?
One thing was for certain. She owed everything to the bunch of dolly mixtures chance had thrown her way last November. Their arrival had turned her world upside down. Where would she be now without her Olive Oil sisters? What must she do next? How had it all begun?
November 1946
It was a normal Monday washday rush at 22 Division Street, Grimbleton. First there was a mound of coloureds and whites to be sorted out, young Neville Winstanley’s silk blouses and knitted jumpers separated for hand washing, a pail of his soaking pants to be scrubbed, last week’s overalls from the market stall and Levi’s boiler suit left until last.
