Homecoming Read online

  For all the damage and years of neglect because of the war, Beach View was a happy home in which Peggy Reilly had offered motherly refuge to the many evacuee girls who’d come and gone over the past six years, and provided a loving home for her father-in-law, Ron, her small daughter, Daisy, and the elderly Cordelia Finch.

  Now that the war in Europe was over and the Japanese had surrendered, Peggy’s eldest daughter and young son, Charlie, had returned home with her granddaughters, and now she awaited the longed-for news that her husband, Jim, would soon be demobbed and on his way back from Burma. The girls who called Beach View home were beginning to make their own way in the world certain in the knowledge that their years with Peggy had imbued in them a sense of warmth, love and family which would remain with them for the rest of their lives.

  Sarah Fuller closed her bedroom door to muffle the noise of the other girls and have some privacy while she concentrated on getting ready for the evening ahead. Her younger sister Jane was having a bath, but Danuta, Anne, Rita and Ivy were dashing back and forth between rooms in a fever of excitement while their landlady, Peggy Reilly, was downstairs with Sarah’s great-aunt Cordelia Finch trying to get Anne’s two little girls and her own small Daisy to calm down enough to eat their tea.

  Beach View Boarding House was alive with the sound of chatter, laughter and running feet, for it was the eve of Rita’s wedding, and they were all preparing for the party at the Anchor to celebrate her last night as a single girl. Their menfolk, Martin, Andy, Ron, Rita’s father Jack, and the Australian bridegroom, Peter Ryan, had been tasked with staying behind to look after the three children, and were under the strictest orders to remain sober as they’d already had their bachelor night earlier in the week.

  Sarah’s smile was wry as she contemplated this arrangement, for she and her sister had been living at Beach View since the fall of Singapore, and she knew all too well that if Ron Reilly was left in charge of anything there would be mayhem, regardless of his daughter-in-law Peggy’s direst of threats. Ron was a man who still followed his own path, despite having been recently married to his long-term sweetheart, Rosie, and although he was in his late sixties, he still had the vigour and propensity for mischief of a much younger man.

  Sarah was still smiling as she pulled up the zipper on her favourite cream linen dress and smoothed it over her narrow hips. Brushing out her long fair hair and carefully pinning it into a smooth chignon, she checked the result in the dressing-table mirror and was quite taken aback by her startling resemblance to her mother, Sybil. It was something she’d never realised before as she rarely took much notice of what she looked like unless it was for a special occasion. However, it seemed that the passing years had transformed and refined her, and now, at twenty-three, she had turned into something very different to the young and rather naive girl who’d fled the invading Japanese in Singapore with her sister four years ago.

  This was no bad thing, she realised with some awe. Sybil had been regarded as a beauty by everyone in the ex-pat communities of Malaya and Singapore, and she had certainly shone with her golden hair, dewy complexion and almost effortless sophistication. Sybil had been the consummate hostess and socialite, adored by Sarah and Jane and equally adored and pampered by their father Jock. Sarah knew her mother hadn’t changed much since escaping from Singapore with newly born James to her parents’ sugar cane plantation in northern Queensland, for her letters were full of her hectic social round, and the enclosed snapshots showed the same vibrant, attractive woman Sarah remembered.

  Sarah looked across at the line of precious photographs that were displayed on the narrow mantelpiece above the gas fire. Some she’d managed to bring with her from Singapore, and others were ones her mother had sent. Having studied them closely, she turned back to the mirror to compare those images with her own reflection.

  It was interesting to note that her eyes were the same shape but a paler blue than her mother’s; her cheekbones were less defined and her nose was perhaps a little too snubbed to be regarded as attractive in the way her mother’s was. She was still very slim but had lost the deep tan of her outdoor life in Malaya, and now her skin had taken on the fresh, rather rosy hue of an English girl. But she had certainly inherited her father’s firm jawline, and her hair was not pale gold like Sybil’s, but inclined to darken with streaks of honeyed brown and copper during the English winters. There were vestiges of her mother in her face, but Sarah decided she’d never be as beautiful, and was happy to accept the fact.

  She turned from the mirror and hunted out the pearl studs and single-strand necklace she’d brought with her from Singapore, and once they were in place, she stepped into her shoes and went to stand by the bedroom window, her thoughts far from Beach View and the rather gloomy vista of Cliffehaven’s rooftops and chimneys in the dwindling light of evening.

  The news of the Japanese surrender had wrought mixed emotions for her and Jane, for the long years of war and separation from their loved ones had seemed endless. It was said that home was where the heart lay, and although they’d both been extremely happy here with Peggy Reilly, the yearning for that home in the jungle had become more acute – the need to know what had happened after the fall of Singapore to their father and Sarah’s fiancé Philip ever more urgent. And for Sarah, it meant having to face the reality of keeping her engagement promise to Philip – should he still be alive – despite the fact she was in love with another man.

  She’d met Delaney on the Cliffe estate where she’d been working in the offices of the Women’s Timber Corps. He’d arrived with the other Americans to complete their training before they were sent into the fighting across the Channel. The attraction had been instant and mutual, and although she’d tried desperately not to fall in love with him, it was to no avail. And yet their dream of being together had been shattered by a twist of fate, for she’d been on the brink of accepting Delaney’s proposal when she’d received proof that Philip was still alive, but now a prisoner of war alongside her father in Changi, and holding her to her promise to wait for him.

  Sarah had fought a long and very painful battle with her conscience, but in the end she’d known she’d have to end things with Delaney if she was ever to have peace of mind. She must trust that Philip would survive the Japanese occupation, and fulfil her promise to him, regardless of the cost to her own happiness.

  She determinedly blocked her thoughts of Delaney, for they stirred up too many agonising emotions, and focused instead on the memories of the isolated rubber plantation her father had managed for Philip Tarrant’s wealthy family in Malaya. She and Jane had been raised in the large, tin-roofed wooden bungalow that jutted from the hillside on stilts above the canopy of trees. Even now, she could almost feel the heat and humidity of that fateful tropical night when she’d stood on the wrap-round veranda and peered through the sturdy mosquito screens to the black stillness of the mountains and the jungle that sprawled over them to the very edges of the plantation.

  The Malay servants had lit the oil lamps and the orange flames had flickered in the breeze that still carried the vestiges of the day’s heat in its dank, musty breath, the smell almost smothering the delicate scents of the orchids, jasmine and frangipani that grew in wild abandon amid the trees. She remembered how the moths had battered against the screens as mosquitoes whined, and tiny pinpricks of light from the fireflies had blinked in the darkness as the deep bass hooting of macaque monkeys echoed into the night. The war in Europe had seemed to be a world away – the threat of invasion by the Japanese merely rumours stoked by scaremongers who refused to believe that Singapore was a fortress and impregnable.

  Now Sarah gave a deep sigh and watched the last of the dying sun spark fire in the solitaire diamond ring she’d taken to wearing again as a reminder of where her loyalties lay. She’d been nineteen and Philip twenty-four when she’d accepted his proposal that night, and he’d slipped this ring on her finger.

  In hindsight, Sarah could see now that she had been naively caugh
t up in the heady flush of first love; overwhelmed that such a handsome, wealthy man wanted her as his wife when he was regarded as a real catch by the gossiping, catty cliques of women who had daughters to marry off. She had felt that as the daughter of what was seen as a lowly plantation manager, she’d won an enormous victory over those cats, and with her parents’ approval, their future together had seemed set to follow the customary privileged and pampered lifestyle of all the ex-pats who lived and worked in the Far East. She’d gone to bed that night to fantasize about her wedding day and the eventual move into the gracious white mansion that had been in the Tarrant family for four generations.

  But her dreams had been cruelly shattered by the news that the Japanese had landed on the beaches of north-eastern Malaya, and just before dawn she’d stood with her heavily pregnant mother and younger sister on the veranda to watch the Japanese bombers on their way to attacking the airfields in Singapore.

  Philip and her father, Jock, were members of the local civil defence unit, and had been called to arms, but their main priority had been to get Sybil and the girls on a ship to anywhere that was relatively safe. Sybil had gone into labour during the long, treacherous journey down through Malaya to Singapore, and gave birth to James on the day Sarah and Jane had sailed for England.

  That had been the last time they’d seen Jock and Philip, or their mother. They learned much later that Jock had managed to get Sybil and the baby passage to Australia with only hours to spare before Singapore fell to the Japanese. What had become of their father and Philip after they’d been imprisoned in Changi was still a source of huge worry, for the news coming out of that part of the world was of slave labour, vast prisoner-of-war camps and hundreds of deaths.

  ‘Well, you don’t look very cheerful considering we’re about to go to a party,’ said Jane, coming into the room swathed in towels.

  Sarah’s dark thoughts scattered as she moved from the window. ‘I was remembering the last time we saw Mother, Pops and Philip,’ she replied.

  Jane didn’t reply immediately, but rubbed her cropped hair vigorously with a towel, before running a comb through the tangles. ‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve been thinking the same ever since the Japs surrendered.’

  She pulled on fresh underwear and rolled on her stockings. ‘I doubt we’ll hear anything much until things settle, and the new British governors can organise searches for the camps and their prisoners. The Japs haven’t been known for their record-keeping, so I suspect it could take months to track everyone down.’

  Sarah nodded and bit her lip. ‘Mother’s still convinced they’re alive, but I wish I could be so certain. We’ve heard such awful things about what the POWs have been through, that it would be a miracle if both of them have survived.’

  ‘It’s the not knowing what happened to them after Changi prison that’s been so frustrating,’ said Jane from the folds of the dress she was pulling over her head. ‘And I agree, it would be hugely against the odds if even one of them came through. But there is a way to get to the heart of the matter if you’re game enough.’

  Sarah frowned as Jane straightened the dress and fastened the narrow belt about her slim waist. ‘Game for what?’

  ‘When I was in London with Jeremy yesterday, I went into the Cook’s travel agency to ask about passage to Singapore. According to the chap there, British Overseas Air Corporation are about to restart their flying boat service from Poole. With all the necessary stops to refuel, it will take about four and a half days to get to Singapore – much quicker than going by boat.’

  Sarah’s momentary excitement was quashed by the idea of flying all that way. ‘I dread to think how much that would cost,’ she said. ‘And don’t forget, Jane, the money Pops sent from Singapore was declared invalid the minute the Japs printed their own currency. With everything so expensive here, I haven’t managed to save very much from my wages.’

  She took a breath. ‘Besides,’ she added, ‘neither of us have flown before, and I’m not sure I want to risk it.’

  Jane plumped down on the bed and giggled. ‘I never took you for a scaredy-cat, Sarah. Flying’s much safer than it ever was, and cuts the time of travel right down. Anyway, the money isn’t really a problem,’ she added airily before shooting her sister an impish grin.

  Sarah wondered fretfully what her sister was up to. ‘Since when? I’m sure the MOD didn’t pay you that well.’

  ‘That’s true,’ she admitted cheerfully. ‘But I didn’t have time to spend much of it, so I have quite a little nest egg. And Jeremy promised to help out with the cost on the proviso I came back and married him.’ Jane blushed. ‘Silly, sweet man, he didn’t need to bribe me – I’d have married him anyway – but it does mean we can afford the tickets.’

  She paused to take a breath, her gaze fixed steadily on Sarah. ‘So I went ahead and booked them for the first post-war flight on the third of September – and sent a telegram to Mother telling her our plans,’ she finished in a rush. Her face was alight with excitement. ‘What do you say to that, Sarah?’

  Shocked that her sister had done such a thing, Sarah sank down beside her and tried to absorb this startling revelation. ‘I don’t know what to say, or how to feel about you rushing into things like that without talking it over with me first,’ she murmured.

  Jane took her hand. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t consult you, but I felt I had to strike while the iron was hot. The tickets were already selling fast, and I didn’t want us to miss out – not as we’ve already waited far too long to get back home.’

  ‘I understand your reasoning,’ Sarah said hesitantly. ‘It’s come as a bit of a shock, that’s all, and I’m finding it difficult to take it all in.’ Her gaze drifted to the photographs on the mantelpiece. ‘The dream of returning to Singapore is something I’ve clung to ever since we left, but now we have the chance …’ She paused, her thoughts in turmoil. ‘I’m almost afraid of what we might find there.’

  Jane gripped her hand more tightly. ‘I feel just the same, for it’s bound to have changed after the Japanese occupation, and it will seem strange to be back after all this time – but we need to know what happened to Pops and Philip.’

  Sarah shivered. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of, Jane. If they’re both dead, then I’m not sure I want to know how and where it happened – and I simply can’t be like Mother who is so adamant that they’re still alive despite everything we’ve seen and heard to the contrary.’

  She regarded her sister evenly. ‘I do wish you hadn’t involved her in your madcap plan, Jane, for I really don’t know if I could bear seeing her hopes and dreams destroyed, and have to witness her falling apart.’

  Jane’s expression became thoughtful. ‘I think that beneath her determination to remain positive, she’s actually fully aware of how things really are,’ she said quietly. ‘Mother was always protective of us – especially with me after I had that accident with the horse – and has merely been trying to bolster our spirits with all her wild schemes for their homecoming.’

  Jane regarded Sarah solemnly and put her arm about her waist. ‘I know her wedding plans for you and Philip have caused you huge distress, and I certainly have no wish to go and settle in Australia now there’s a chance of me and Jeremy working in America. But as much as I try to deny it, there is a tiny spark in me which keeps hope alive that they’ll come through.’

  ‘I feel it too,’ Sarah admitted. ‘Although I’m dreading the moment when I have to face Philip knowing I’ve broken my promise to him and betrayed his trust.’

  Jane took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. ‘That, of course, is something I can’t help you with. But you know my feelings on the matter, and my advice has always been to let him down as gently as possible, and then go and find Delaney before it’s too late.’

  She squeezed Sarah’s fingers. ‘If nothing else, Sarah, this war has taught me that life is too short and precarious to waste it in chaining yourself to someone you no longer love out of a misguided sense of loyalty.�
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  ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ reproached Sarah. ‘Your love life is uncomplicated with Jeremy, whereas mine is a complete shambles.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to preach.’

  Sarah could see Jane’s regret was genuine, but she was desperate now to get away from all talk of her marrying Philip. ‘You seem very certain we’ll find the information we need in Singapore. Why is that?’

  Jane seemed relieved at the change of subject, perhaps realising she’d gone too far in offering her unwanted advice. She stood and ran a comb through her drying fair hair, teasing the natural waves into place. ‘Now the British Military Administration is in charge over there, it’s almost certain Singapore will become the central hub for the British POWs coming out of Malaya, Burma, Indonesia and Thailand.’

  ‘But they could have been sent to one of the Japanese islands, or even to the mainland,’ protested Sarah, ‘and could be repatriated in Australia. Remember, Jane, Mother has pestered the authorities over the years with letters demanding they be sent straight to Cairns on their release.’

  ‘If that is the case – which I doubt as they’re not Australian – then we’ll catch another flying boat to Darwin, hire a car and drive across to Cairns.’ Jane squeezed Sarah’s hand again. ‘We’ll find them, Sarah, I promise.’

  Sarah regarded her sister with some awe. Jane had been kicked in the head by a horse when she was young, leaving her childlike and vulnerable, which meant she’d been molly coddled by their parents and carefully guarded against anything that might upset her. Sarah had always suspected she was much more aware of things than she’d been given credit for, and had used the accident as a ploy to gain attention and be spoilt.

  This suspicion had been proved correct during the dangerous crossing to England, for once out of reach of loving but smothering parents, she’d started to blossom. The transformation had been completed during her time at Beach View, and when she’d left to work for the MOD on some secret assignment, she was a fully-fledged, bright young girl ready to take on the world.