Page 104 of Neighbors at War

‘I do,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know how much longer I can stand this way of life. It only ever seems to get worse.’

Chapter Sixty-Eight

PEGGY

Peggy left Bobby playing in the sunshine, wanting him to make the most of being outside before he was shut away again like a hothouse flower. She watched the little boy rolling on the grass and giggling. At least he has had this freedom for a while, she reasoned, trying to stay upbeat as she went inside to find how Tony was getting on with Helen.

It saddened her to think of everything her friend had gone through already. The last thing Helen needed was to lose her close friend and leave this comfortable home that she and Bobby clearly loved. Now wasn’t the time for sentiment, though; not when their lives were once again at risk. Peggy braced herself to face Helen. They needed to get things done and she couldn’t afford to lose her nerve.

She walked in and saw Helen’s puffy eyes. It didn’t surprise her that she had been crying. Tony gave her a pleading look and Peggy knew what she must do.

‘I’m sorry, Helen, but we need to organise ourselves.’

Helen looked surprised to see her there. ‘Sorry?’

Peggy repeated herself.

‘I’ve…packed a couple of bags…with our necessities.’ Helen pointed to two small bags by the wall to her right.

‘Well done,’ Peggy said encouragingly. ‘Now we need to remove all trace of you and Bobby having been here.’

Helen seemed to become more alert. ‘Yes,’ she said standing. ‘I wasn’t sure what to do.’

‘It’s fine,’ Peggy assured her, trying to think what they needed to do first. ‘If we’re going to leave at dusk then we only have a few hours to do everything. Leave Daphne’s bed made, but yours must be stripped.’

‘We won’t be able to wash the bedding, though.’

Peggy had thought of that. ‘Any dirty linen, towels and clothes of yours that could pass for Daphne’s can be placed in her laundry basket. I presume she has one?’

‘She does, but what about Bobby’s things?’ She sighed sadly. ‘He doesn’t have much but I couldn’t pack everything.’

Peggy wasn’t sure what to suggest.

Tony rubbed his chin. ‘We can wrap them in a sheet and bury them with any toys he has to leave behind.’

‘Bury them?’ Helen and Peggy said in unison.

Tony shrugged. ‘I can’t think of a better suggestion, can you?’

‘No,’ Helen agreed. Seemingly galvanised, she pushed the chair she had been sitting on back under the table. ‘Let’s get started. I don’t want to still be here when they arrive.’ She stopped at the kitchen door and, without turning around, added. ‘We’ll leave Bobby playing outside until the last minute. I want him to have as much freedom as possible.’

Peggy heard the misery in her friend’s voice and caught Tony’s eye. He was finding this as heartbreaking as she was. The sooner they got going the better, she decided.

Once it was dusk, they set off. ‘I think when we reach the bottom of Mont Cochon you two girls should walk ahead and Bobby and I will follow a little way behind,’ Tony said.

‘What? No.’ Helen looked horrified. ‘If he’s not going to be with me, I need to be able to see him at all times. You two walk in front of us, so that I can watch him.’

Tony nodded. ‘Fine, but you follow my lead. If I’m stopped, do what Peggy says. Agreed?’

Helen still seemed unsure for a second, and Peggy was relieved when she finally consented.

‘I also think,’ Tony began, ‘that it’ll look odd if you’re carrying too much. We can share the contents of the bags between us. Bobby can take two of his toys, which will help. He has pockets. We all do. Let’s make the most of them. Then one of you girls can carry the other bag. The smaller one will draw less attention.’

Peggy was relieved when they finally got going. They managed to reach the bottom of the hill without seeing anyone apart from two elderly people who, Peggy noticed, had little energy to walk up the hill. She would have loved to offer them help but instead nodded a greeting and kept walking.

She and Helen pretended to look in the newsagent’s window as Tony took Bobby’s hand and led him further along the road. When they had almost reached The Overseas Trading Corporation frontage, where teas had been blended and packed since the early twenties for export across the world, Peggy linked arms with her friend. She could feel the tension in her.

‘Remember not to look so concerned,’ Peggy whispered. ‘And stop staring at those two so intently, you’re going to make any passersby wonder what’s wrong with them.’