Daisy's Secret

Daisy's Secret

Abandoned by her sweetheart and rejected by her family, Daisy feels she has no choice but to agree to being evacuated to the Lakes at the start of the war. Still grieving for the baby boy she was forced to give up for adoption, she resolves that he will be her secret - a precious memory but spoken of to no one. She seeks consolation by taking under her wing two frightened little girls. Together they suffer the hardship and insecurity of poor billets until finally settling at Lane End Farm near Keswick, the home of her Aunt Florrie, where she collects a few other lost souls in need of a sympathetic ear.

When she meets Harry Driscoll, a young airman, Daisy hopes to have a second chance at love; little does she know that her secret is about to come back to haunt her ...

Nothing's fair in love and war

1939
1
Daisy

‘Don’t think for a minute that you can carry on as if nothing has happened. Not after behaving so shamefully. We’re done with you now, Daisy Atkins. You’re no longer any daughter of mine. As for your father, he’s made it abundantly clear that he’ll not have you set foot in the house. Not ever again. We might be poor with not much to call us own, but we have us standards. Make no mistake about that.’
            Daisy looked into her mother’s set face and saw by the pursing of her narrow lips and the twin spots of colour on each hollow cheek, that she meant every hard and unforgiving word. ‘Then what am I to do? Where am I supposed to go?’
            ‘You should’ve thought of that before you - well - before you did what you oughtn’t to have done.’ Rita Atkins sniffed loud disapproval and folded her arms belligerently across her narrow chest. Daisy noticed that she was wearing her best black coat and hat for the visit, the one that she wore for chapel and for all funerals and weddings in the family. It bore a faint sheen of green and smelt strongly of mothballs. ‘I’ll not have it. I won’t. It’s just like your Aunt Florrie all over again.’
            Daisy let out a heavy sigh, feeling a prickle of resentment by the comparison which had been flung at her more times than she cared to remember in these last, agonising weeks.
            Aunt Florrie had brought disgrace to her family by running off with a man almost twice her age to live in the wilds of the Lake District. Daisy had no real memory of her, beyond the odd Christmas card but she’d always rather envied this adventurous, long-lost aunt who had escaped the boring inevitability of life in Marigold Court, Salford. She’d run away from broken windows, strings of washing and the reek of boiled fish and cabbage. And who could blame her? Certainly not Daisy. Whenever she’d ventured to say as much, she’d been slapped down by her mother, which Daisy didn’t understand at all. She thought it would be the most glorious thing in the world to breathe clean, fresh country air and live where the grass stayed green and wasn’t always covered in soot. Hadn’t she long dreamed of just such an escape?
            She’d thought she could achieve it by marrying her sweetheart Percy, who kept a market stall out at Warrington. He’d certainly seemed smitten by her, proclaiming how much he adored her halo of golden brown, corkscrew curls, which Daisy privately loathed, longing as she did for more sophisticated, smooth bangs like Veronica Lake. He’d frequently told her how her soft, brown eyes just made him melt inside, how he adored each sun-kissed freckle and he’d certainly been more than happy to kiss the fragile prettiness of her small, pink mouth.
            He’d talked endlessly about his own hopes and ambitions for the future: how he aimed to have a string of market stalls one day, or better still, a whole row of shops, selling meat and fish as well as vegetables. She would listen to this extravagant fantasy, head tilted attentively to one side, eyes intent on his face, not wishing to miss a word.
            ‘And will I be able to help you in these shops?’ she’d coyly enquire. ‘Or will it be some other girl?’
            ‘Course it’ll be you Daisy,’ he’d say, pulling her close. ‘You’re my girl. Always will be. You can serve behind the counter.’
            ‘Happen I don’t want to be your girl and work on a market stall or behind the counter of a fruit and veg shop. Mebbe I want a big house in the country.’
            ‘Then you shall have one, Daisy girl. I’ll build you the biggest house you ever did see, with a fine garage for the car, and stables for horses. ‘Ere, I could run ‘em in t’Grand National eh? Come on chuck, don’t be mean, give us another kiss,’ and Daisy would sigh with pleasure at the joy of being in love.
            Sadly, these dreams had been dashed by discovering that the one and only occasion she’d foolishly allowed him to go ‘all the way’, she’d got caught. At first, in her innocence, Daisy had felt excited at the prospect of motherhood. They’d intended to get married anyway, she told herself, so it meant only that she could leave home even sooner and escape the claustrophobic restrictions her mother imposed upon her. She would marry Percy and they’d find a pretty cottage in the country and while she minded the children, she’d also keep hens and grow flowers and vegetables which he could sell on his market stall. Oh, life would be just perfect!
            All such foolish daydreams had been swiftly shattered.
            Percy had been struck speechless with shock when she’d proudly announced that he was about to become a father. ‘Nay, Daisy lass, that’s bit of a shaker. I’m not old enough to be a dad, any more than you’re old enough to be anyone’s ma. Tha’s only sixteen and I’m nobbut a couple of years older, fer God’s sake.’
            ‘Don’t you love me?’
            ‘Course I do. I’ll allus love thee, but how would we manage? I’ve hardly any money coming in, nor will have for some long while yet. Can’t we wait for a bit longer?’
            ‘How can we wait? The baby’s coming now.’
            ‘Nay, I can’t see how we’d manage. It’s too soon.’
            She’d argued against this point of view, naturally, attempting to explain how much they would love the baby, once it was born, and carefully outlining her plans for their future. Far from reassuring him, his horror had increased, making all manner of excuses about why this couldn’t possibly work. He couldn’t live anywhere but Salford, he said.   He only knew how to sell fruit and veg, not grow them, and he really wasn’t ready yet to start his own business, particularly in a strange place where he wasn’t known. Again and again he kept repeating that he still loved her but that it was too soon, the timing was all wrong, as if the baby were an unwanted gift that could be sent back. And then one day he’d come to her triumphant.
            ‘There’s going to be a war Daisy, so that settles it. I’ve volunteered to join the Navy. Tha’ll have to get rid of it, or do as thee mam says and have it adopted. Best thing all round I’d say. There’s plenty of time for us to start having babies, later, when the war’s over.’
            Daisy was filled with fear. She knew nothing about war. She’d been far too caught up with being in love, and the youthful exuberance of simply enjoying herself to even care, let alone understand what was going on in the wider world. If she’d noticed any rumblings on the wireless, or overheard worried comments from her parents, Daisy had ignored them, imagining that such things didn’t concern her and certainly would not affect her life in any way. How wrong could she be? The war was taking her sweetheart away from her.

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