A Rose and a Promise, page 32
Jack strode towards her in a no-nonsense manner, and scooped her up into his arms. ‘Sorry miss, but I wouldn’t consider meself to be much of a gent if I left you in this state, with the Luftwaffe droppin’ bombs willy-nilly.’
Ordinarily, Libby would’ve objected to such a chivalrous act, but she knew that he was right. If she didn’t get to a shelter soon, her assailant – wherever he might be – could prove to be the least of her problems. Tears slowly trickling down her cheeks, Libby felt Jack’s arms tighten around her as he quickened his pace.
Ducking through the doorway of one of London’s many public shelters, Jack ignored the ARP Warden who’d given a short exclamation on seeing the two of them, soaked to the skin. He took Libby to the back of the shelter and sat her down on one of the benches that lined the walls. ‘Wait there, miss, whilst I get you a dry blanket.’
‘My name’s Libby,’ mumbled Libby as she hugged her knees close to her chest. Glancing up at him through thick black lashes, she saw that he was smiling kindly at her.
‘Right you are, Libby. I’ll just have a quick word with me dad – he’s the ARP Warden what’s mindin’ the door – but I’ll be right back after that.’
With more people entering the shelter, Libby kept her head down in case any of them turned out to be her attacker. Watching through her downturned lids, she could see that Jack was talking quietly to an older man, who kept throwing her sidelong glances. It was obvious that they were discussing her, and it seemed that Jack was having to reassure his father about her presence. He knows, Libby told herself, he can tell just by lookin’ at me, and that’s what he must be tellin’ Jack, that he doesn’t want someone like me in the shelter. Seeing Jack break away from his father, Libby watched as he took a couple of blankets from under one of the benches and made his way towards her. She thanked him for the blanket and proceeded to wrap it around her, making sure she kept a small peephole so that she could see who was entering the shelter.
Hoping to learn something about the dark-haired beauty whom he had just rescued from the Thames, Jack tried to engage her in conversation. ‘Gordon – that’s me dad – was wonderin’ what you was doin’ in the river in the depths of winter?’ Anxious that he should not appear too nosey, he winked at her, before continuing in a light-hearted fashion. ‘Surely you must’ve realised it’s not safe to go swimmin’ durin’ an air raid?’
She was about to reply when the curtain flap covering the door opened, and the man from whom Libby had been fleeing entered. Her heart in her mouth, Libby watched as the gruff man in his late sixties scanned the room. Trapped like a rat, she turned pleading eyes to Jack. ‘Please don’t let him see me.’
In answer, Jack settled down onto the bench next to her, and slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. ‘Don’t you worry your head none. If he says anythin’, I’ll say you’re with me.’
Libby whispered ‘thank you’ whilst keeping a keen eye on the man who sat heavily onto the bench nearest the door. Scratching his throat, his eyes travelled over the occupants of the shelter, before settling on Libby, and Jack felt her stiffen under his gaze. Sensing her fear, he coughed into his fist before addressing the individual by way of explanation. ‘My girlfriend’s scared of the bombs, and who can blame her?’
The man gave a small grunt as his eyes flickered back to Jack. Apparently losing interest, he drew a watch from his pocket, flipped the case open, then closed it again before pushing it back into his pocket.
Jack’s father, Gordon, took the seat opposite the man. He had no idea why his son was choosing to make up lies, but he knew it must have something to do with the young girl named Libby. Keen to keep the older man’s attention away from Jack and Libby, he broke into conversation. ‘I was hopin’ we’d seen the last of the Jerries for one night.’
The man pulled a disgruntled face. ‘Not with my luck.’
Gordon eyed him inquisitively. ‘Oh?’
The man glanced back in Libby’s direction. ‘I got robbed by some tart, just as the first siren sounded.’
Huddling closer to Jack, Libby whispered. ‘He’s lyin’.’
Keeping his arm firmly around Libby, Jack pulled a disbelieving face. ‘She must’ve been pretty feisty to get the better of a gentleman like yourself! Or did she pick your pocket?’
The man started to shake his head, before changing his mind. ‘Dirty little bilge rat had it away on ’er toes before you could say “knife”!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I chased ’er as far the docks, but lost sight of ’er after that.’
Gordon tore his gaze away from Libby, hoping the older man would do the same. ‘Some things are more important than money; you should be grateful you got in here before they started droppin’ bombs.’
‘I’ll wring ’er flamin’ neck if I get my hands on ’er,’ the older man growled. He turned his attention away from Gordon, back to Libby. ‘Pretendin’ to be all nice, then runnin’ off with my money. There’s a name for women like that.’
Worried as to what might come out of the man’s mouth next, Jack tried to change the course of the conversation. ‘Maybe she was desperate?’
The man spluttered indignantly. ‘What the ’ell do you mean by that?’
Keen to keep things from getting too heated, Gordon cut in swiftly. ‘The lad didn’t mean anythin’ by it. He was only suggestin’ that she nicked your money out of desperation.’
‘I couldn’t give a toss how desperate she was,’ grumbled the older man. ‘You don’t rob someone before…’
Jack stared at him. ‘Before what?’
Having said more than he’d intended, he brought the conversation to a close. ‘What’s important is she took what wasn’t ’ers to take, and if I find the filthy little wretch, I’ll take what I’m owed.’
Libby turned tear-brimmed eyes to Jack. ‘It’s not how it sounds…’
He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze, before hissing. ‘Wait until they sound the clear; you can speak freely then.’
Libby lowered her head. Speaking freely wasn’t going to be easy – not considering everything she’d just been through.
SUMMER PUDDING
A cheap but delicious pudding, which requires very little cooking! What’s not to love?
If you can’t buy fresh fruit, frozen will do just as well, and you can use any mixture of berries.
INGREDIENTS
• 300g strawberries
• 250g blackberries
• 100g redcurrants
• 500g raspberries
• 175g golden caster sugar
• 7 slices day-old white bread (square, medium-cut loaf)
METHOD
1. Line a 1.25 litre basin with cling film, leaving the edges overhanging by around 20 cm – this will help you to turn out the pudding when it’s ready.
2. Wash the fruit and gently dry on kitchen paper, keeping the strawberries separate.
3. Put the sugar and 3 tbsp water into a large pan and heat under a low flame, stirring occasionally until the sugar dissolves. Bring to the boil for one minute, then tip in the remaining fruit (except strawberries). Cook for 3 mins over a low heat, stirring 2– 3 times. When the fruit is softened, but mostly intact, place a sieve over a bowl and tip in the fruit and juice.
4. Slice the crusts off the bread, then cut 4 pieces of bread in half, a little on an angle, to give 2 lopsided rectangles per piece. Cut 2 slices into four triangles each and leave the final piece whole.
5. Dip the whole piece of bread into the juice for a few seconds just to coat. Push this into the bottom of the lined basin. Now dip the wonky rectangular pieces one at a time and press around the basin’s sides so that they fit together neatly, alternating wide and narrow ends up so that they fit together jigsaw-like. If you have any difficulty getting the last piece to fit, don’t worry, simply trim to the right shape, dip in juice and slot in. Now spoon in the softened fruit, adding the strawberries randomly.
6. Dip the bread triangles in juice and place on top, trimming off any overhang with scissors.
7. Keep leftover juice for later. Bring cling film up and loosely seal. Put a side plate on top and weight down with cans. Leave to chill overnight.
8. To serve, open out the cling film then put a serving plate upside down on top and turn over. Enjoy with leftover juice, cream or ice cream!
SIGN UP TO OUR SAGA NEWSLETTER
Welcome to Penny Street, your number one stop for emotional and heartfelt historical reads. Meet casts of characters you'll never forget, memories you'll treasure as your own, and places that will forever stay with you long after the last page.
Join our online community bringing you the latest book deals, competitions and new saga series releases.
You can also find extra content, talk to your favourite authors and share your discoveries with other saga fans on Facebook.
Join today by visiting
www.penguin.co.uk/pennystreet
Follow us on Facebook
www.facebook.com/welcometopennystreet/
If you want to continue to hear from the Flynn family, and to receive the latest news about new Katie Flynn books and competitions, sign up to the Katie Flynn newsletter.
Join today by visiting
www.penguin.co.uk/katieflynnnewsletter
Find Katie Flynn on Facebook
www.facebook.com/katieflynn458
THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING
Find us online and join the conversation
Follow us on Twitter twitter.com/penguinukbooks
Like us on Facebook facebook.com/penguinbooks
Share the love on Instagram instagram.com/penguinukbooks
Watch our authors on YouTube youtube.com/penguinbooks
Pin Penguin books to your Pinterest pinterest.com/penguinukbooks
Listen to audiobook clips at soundcloud.com/penguin-books
Find out more about the author and discover
your next read at penguin.co.uk
PENGUIN BOOKS
UK | USA | Canada | Ireland | Australia
New Zealand | India | South Africa
Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.
First published by Century in 2023
Published in Penguin Books 2023
Copyright © Katie Flynn, 2023
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Cover Photograpy: Larry Rostant. Cover Design: Ceara Elliot
ISBN: 978-1-529-15849-6
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Katie Flynn, A Rose and a Promise
