THE FAIRLIGHT SERIES I
JULIA'S WAR
Chapter 1
Slipscombe Sands, North Devon, England
October 1939
‘Mum? Mum! Where are you?’
Perched on the step stool she used to reach the top shelf of the pantry, Julia Nance replaced the tin of evaporated milk and paused to listen. Quite why, at the age of seventeen, her stepdaughter couldn’t take the extra few steps through from the kitchen and talk to her, face-to-face, she would never understand. Constantly having to remind her not to bawl from another room was infuriating.
‘What do you want?’ she called back, nonetheless.
While she listened for Elowen’s reply, she cast her eyes along the shelf. Would four tins of peas last them until next week or should she get some more? She had plenty of broad beans, but her current guests, the Plumley sisters, declined to eat them on the grounds they gave rise to what they termed undesirable side effects.
Rather than risk running out, she reached for her notepad and wrote, 4 x large tins marrowfat peas.
‘He’s out there again.’
‘Who is?’
She didn’t know why she was wasting her breath asking. There was only one person who came over the field and down the path, to loiter, furtively, until she gave in and went out to see what he wanted – and that was Pasco, elder brother of her late husband, Jago. To be fair, since she’d taken him to task over it – again – he had at least stopped strolling in through the back porch whenever he felt like it; he might now tug his forelock every time instead and mutter some nonsense about not wanting to alarm the good lady’s guests, but at least he had the grace to wait outside.
‘Pasco, of course.’
Julia climbed down from her step. ‘That’s Uncle Pasco to you. And for goodness’ sake, if you’ve got something to tell me, stop yelling and come and find me.’ If forced to say who would send her to an early grave first, her brother-in-law or her stepdaughter, it would be a close-run thing. At times, both were too forward for their own good.
‘Uncle Trouble, more like.’ Elowen arrived to lean in the doorway and observe.
Yes, far too forward.
‘Look, love,’ Julia said wearily, ‘I’ve asked you before to show your uncle some respect.’
‘You’re the one always saying what a nuisance he is. I’m only calling him as you do.’
Her step stool folded and stacked neatly in the corner, Julia ushered her stepdaughter back through the door. ‘And as I’m forever telling you, when you’re twenty-one and an adult, you’ll be free to speak as you choose – and stomach the consequences. Until then, a mite less impudence wouldn’t go amiss.’
‘Well, anyway,’ Elowen continued, ‘from the way he was beckoning, I’d say Uncle Pasco wants a word with you.’
Doubtless he did. Doubtless he was after something, too. Much like the rest of the Nance family – apart from Jago, the one noble soul among a family of petty villains – the man was forever on the scrounge and as slippery as an eel.
Remembering the task she’d given Elowen half an hour previously, she said, ‘Have you finished sorting out the shelves in the scullery? And under the kitchen sink?’
‘I have.’
‘Properly?’
‘Of course.’
‘Checked everything against the list I gave you? Brillo pads, Vim, Dettol. Beeswax. Didn’t miss anything?’
Elowen shook her head. ‘I did exactly as you said, even though I can’t see the point. I mean, one minute you’re cursing this war for costing us our guests and yet here we are, this morning, making shopping lists as though it’s the height of summer and we’re packed to the rafters.’
If only that were the case.
‘Look, love.’ While she didn’t want to alarm the girl, neither should she shelter her from the truth. ‘If you’d gone through the last war, as I did, you would understand what it’s like to suffer shortages, to not be able to get your hands on even essential items like soap. So, trust me when I say there’s no harm in us stocking up.’
‘But I thought the government warned everyone against hoarding.’
‘I hardly think the two of us preparing for bookings qualifies as hoarding.’
‘Even when we no longer have any bookings? Even when Mr Chamberlain’s declaration of war has put paid to them all?’
The declaration might indeed have resulted in all but one of their guests cancelling, but she couldn’t let go of the hope that the situation was temporary. In any event, the reason for sorting out the cupboards this morning hadn’t been so much to stock up as to give the two of them something to do – in particular, to prevent her own mind from stewing over circumstances she could do nothing to change.
‘Look, for all we know,’ she said, adopting a brighter tone, ‘our present lack of guests might turn out to be short-lived. People might be back sooner than we think.’
‘Really?’
To Julia’s mind, it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility; if reports in some of the newspapers were to be believed, there was still the chance that all-out war might be avoided – that Germany could yet be persuaded to back down. ‘Well, anyway,’ she said, patting her stepdaughter’s arm as she squeezed past her. ‘We can’t risk being caught short, not when it comes to everyday items, and certainly not while we do still have a couple of guests. Now, while I go and see what your Uncle Pasco wants, how about you make up the fires for me, starting with the drawing room.’
‘If I must.’
Once she had watched to make sure Elowen went to the bother of changing her clean pinny for an old housecoat, Julia forced her bare feet into her lace-ups, pulled her cardigan tightly across her chest and let herself out through the back porch. Outside, she ducked her head into the stiff breeze and crossed to where her brother-in-law was waiting in the lee of the outhouse.
As she went towards him, he rubbed his hands together and grinned. ‘’Ow be, duck?’
‘Fine.’ Sound sufficiently frosty, and he might take the hint.
‘Nasty old nor’wester this morning.’
‘We’re on the coast of north Devon, Pasco. There’s always a nasty north-westerly this time of year. You of all people know that. Anyway, what do you want? Why have you dragged me out here?’
‘Faith, woman. Get out the wrong side of bed this morning, did we?’
Pushing her hair from her eyes – so far today, she hadn’t even got around to pulling a brush through it – Julia responded tartly, ‘Only side there is these days.’
‘Handy, then, my beauty, that you see before you just the feller to remedy that.’ When she spotted his outstretched fingers heading in the direction of her waist, she stepped smartly out of his reach. ‘Time and again I’ve told you, give us a chance and I’ll see to it you start every new morning with a grin so big –’
‘For God’s sake, Pasco, leave off.’
‘‒ you’ll be like the cat that got the cream.’
She was half-minded to go straight back indoors. This morning, she didn’t care for the glint in his eye. But when did she ever? Instead, in the knowledge that the quickest way to be rid of him was usually to hear him out, she said, ‘What can I do for you, Pasco?’
Withdrawing a couple of steps, he returned to leaning against the lime-washed wall of the outhouse. ‘Got a favour to ask.’
‘Go on, then.’ She gestured impatiently. ‘Put me out of my misery.’
‘Well, since lobster season’s done, I’m looking for somewhere to store me pots and whatnot – stuff I can’t afford to lose to pilfering. You know how light-fingered folk are. Have it away with anything not nailed down, they will. And you of all people know there’s slim enough pickings to be had from the pots to start with.’
Especially, Julia thought, if you had other, more lucrative – and distinctly more dubious – lines of business on the go, business that meant you rarely went to the bother of putting out pots in the first place. She knew first-hand that making a living from fishing was hard; there had been days when even Jago would have preferred to stay indoors but, as he’d routinely pointed out, a pot on dry land was never going to catch a lobster.
Recalling her late husband’s rueful grin on the occasions when he’d peered out of the window at the appalling weather but pulled on his oilskins anyway, she let out a sigh and dragged her attention back to his brother. As had been the case with Jago, being continually on the go kept him lean and muscular, while spending every day out of doors gave his face a year-round suntan. But whereas Jago’s eyes had been the rich brown of walnut wood, complete with swirls and speckles, Pasco’s were uniformly mahogany. And when, as now, he wore his dark hair tied at the nape of his neck with a scrap of coloured cloth, she was reminded of a storybook pirate. Indeed, many was the time she’d witnessed the sight of him, loping along the pavement, causing holidaymaking fathers to usher their little ones to the other side of the street. She’d also noticed how those same men’s wives had trouble looking away; Pasco’s youth might be behind him, but his rugged earthiness could still turn heads.
Realizing that he was regarding her expectantly, she forced her thoughts back to his request. ‘So, it’s just lobster pots you want to store. Nothing any law-abiding person would consider . . . shady.’
‘As God is my witness.’ When he raised a finger to cross his heart, part of her wanted to believe him.
Unfortunately, the man’s word meant very little – sworn before God or otherwise. ‘Come on, now, Juley,’ he pressed. ‘Shan’t be no bother. You won’t hear a peep.’
‘For goodness’ sake. If you don’t want to be a bother, try keeping your voice down. I still have the Misses Plumley to think about.’ Thank God.
‘Pah. It’d take a darn sight more’n me coming and going to disturb those two. Nutty as a fruitcake, the pair of ’em – that scrawny little sparrow of a thing trailing along with her notebook while the bigger one strides off ahead, calling out what she’s spotted through them field glasses she won’t go nowhere without –’
‘Look, what my guests choose to go out and do when they’re here is up to them. Either way, I can’t afford to have them upset. Without the little bit they pay me each week, I’d be in even worse straits.’ Damn. Why on earth had she told him that? The less he knew of her difficulties, the better.
‘Lucky for you I’m here, then.’
‘Lucky? Me?’ Why was she even still out there, listening to this nonsense? The Plumleys might be her only remaining guests, but she still had plenty to get on and do.
‘Serious, woman.’ Waving a hand, his palm calloused from decades of hauling lobster pots, he gestured up at the back of the house. ‘I mean, tedn’t as though you need me to point out the perils of a guest house with no guests –’ Trust the man to make this about Fairlight. He knew what it meant to her, knew she would do anything to protect it. ‘But let me put my pots in the cellar, and I’ll make it worth your while.’
And there it was: the baited trap. Exactly as he’d known, he now had her wondering just how much ‘worth her while’ he was prepared to make it – knew full well that, in her present situation, even an extra shilling a week would come in handy. But experience had shown that taking the man’s money wasn’t the answer – that when it came to Pasco, not only were things rarely as they seemed but one thing had the habit of leading to another. Give the man an inch and he took a mile.
‘You’ll need to let me think about it.’ At the very least, she should stall him long enough to properly weigh the risks – she could do without the excise men turning up and going over the place, looking for contraband.
‘Can’t see what there is to trouble your head with, woman. I need the cellar, you need the money. Surely, even you can see the gain to be had from a little arrangement between us. Still, you always were slow to cotton on to an opportunity, even when it was there for the taking, so to speak. Haven’t I always said you’re too stubborn for your own good – never did see where you’d be well off? Too mulish, even now, to accept how you an’ me could rub along real sweet together.’
Inwardly, Julia groaned. Would the man never give up? Could he genuinely not see that she’d rather parade through the village naked than take up with him?
‘Look, Pasco –’
‘Come on, maid,’ he pressed. ‘You an’ me, we’re family. And family helps family.’
To be fair, they were family – at least by law if not by blood. And by honour, too, if you went along with the crooked code of loyalty by which the Nance family lived their lives – no one asking questions, and a nod being as good as a wink. They certainly showed scant respect for the law of the land. That said, she believed him when he said family still meant something. She’d certainly been grateful when he’d stepped in to help after Jago had died. Losing her second husband, less than two years after she’d married him, leaving her not just numb with grief but petrified at the prospect of how she was going to manage – especially with Jago’s infant daughter by his first wife to raise – had meant she’d been relieved beyond words when Pasco had shown up at her door, not only with the rent owing on the cottage, but with a basket of groceries, as well.
Of course, it hadn’t been long before it became clear he considered his good deeds entitled him to first dibs on her newly widowed body. She would never forget the night he’d come hammering on the door of the cottage, only to slobber drunkenly on her neck, push his hand up her skirt and suggest, without the least hint of shame, that he take to sharing her bed. No sense me paying the rent on two places when we could keep each other warm of a winter’s night in just the one now, is there? She still couldn’t believe he’d had the gall, what with her husband – his own brother – barely a month in his grave. She wasn’t even sure such an arrangement was lawful.
Sadly, no matter how often she’d rejected his advances, he’d remained steadfastly undeterred, his persistence dogged to the point that, once or twice, from the depths of her despair, she’d almost given in to him. Even all these years later, recalling how close she’d come could still make her squirm.
Anyway, since coming into an unexpected inheritance had enabled her to buy Fairlight and get it up and running as a guest house, she’d become truly independent, no mean feat for a widow who, at the time, had yet to turn thirty. And that was why she wasn’t about to let this latest war with Germany, let alone what experience suggested was likely to turn into a badly struck bargain with Pasco Nance, bring it all crashing down about her ears.
Brave words, the less principled side of her conscience pointed out, but here is someone offering you money at the very moment when your income has all but dried up. She couldn’t deny the timing was fortuitous. But, if she’d learned anything since being widowed, it was that only someone with a death wish got into bed with Pasco Nance.
With that in mind, she met his stare and, despite knowing that she was simply putting off telling him no, heaved a weary sigh and said, ‘As I told you just now, I’ll think about it.’
‘Then just make good and sure you do, Julia Nance.’ Raising a finger towards her, he went on, ‘And don’t keep me waiting about too long for your answer, neither. My proposal’s a good ’un, and you know it.’
To her astonishment, rather than continue to try and wear her down, he then thrust his hands into the pocket on the front of his overalls, turned stiffly about and, without another word, headed away up the garden path.
What she had to decide, it seemed, as she watched to make sure he went all the way out into the lane, was the extent of her fear for the future of Fairlight and how far she would go to relieve it. Was her desperation becoming sufficiently deep that, troublesome though the man could be, she shouldn’t turn him down? Or was there still hope that a less unsavoury alternative might yet come along to save her? After all, as she’d said to Elowen, there was still a chance this latest war would simply peter out and that, once the better weather came, people would flock back to holiday in Devon as though these last six weeks had never happened. The question was, how long could she afford to wait to find out?
Satisfied that Pasco had left, she turned to go back indoors. A tiny corner of her brain thought herself mad to turn him down, going as far as to point out that, even if she did eventually say no, he would probably still do as he saw fit anyway. And if he was going to do that, then she might as well charge him for the privilege from the start. And yes, every time he asked her for a favour, she did vow that next time he did so, she would turn him down flat. And, one day, she would; one day, she would make him see that when Julia Nance said no, she meant it.
This morning, however, not only was she exhausted with the mounting worry of it all but she felt lost as to what to do for the best. Already in her stomach was the churning sensation that arrived whenever she found herself on the brink of doing something unwise. But the truth of her situation was stark: if she wanted not only to hang on to Fairlight but to keep it going for Elowen to one day take over and run – rather than allow them to be robbed of it by the second war of her lifetime – she was going to need every farthing she could get.
Bending to take off her shoes, she sighed. With any luck, it would be a couple of days before Pasco returned for her answer; a couple of days in which to come up with a less worrisome way to make ends meet – a couple of days to stop herself agreeing to something she would almost certainly live to regret.